Navies of South-East Asia : A Comparative Study [1 ed.] 9781136206634, 9780415809429

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Navies of South-­East Asia

This book provides a comprehensive survey of the development and operations of the navies of South-­East Asia since the end of the Second World War. The navies of South-­East Asia have rarely been the subject of systematic attention but, as the maritime strategic balance within Asia becomes more complex and open to challenge through the rise of China, they will play increasingly significant roles. While most have had only limited strength in the past, the majority are acquiring new capabilities, notably submarines, which will profoundly alter their ability to influence events. This volume outlines the difficulties that each navy has faced in developing capability in competition, not only with local armies and air forces, but with other national requirements. The authors analyse the way in which each has been shaped by history and by changing maritime strategic concepts, particularly through developments such as the 1982 Law of the Sea Convention. Drawing upon this contextual information, the book goes on to examine how the navies are likely to develop in the future, what new challenges they will face and the nature of the roles they will play within a region of increasing global strategic significance. This book will be of much interest to students of naval policy, South-­ East Asian politics, regional security, strategic studies and IR in general. James Goldrick retired from the Royal Australian Navy in 2012 as a two-­ star Rear-­Admiral. His previous books include studies of the opening months of the First World War at sea (The King’s Ships Were at Sea, USNI, 1984) and of the development of South Asian navies (No Easy Answers, Lancer, 1997). Jack McCaffrie retired from the RAN as a Commodore (one-­star) in 2003. He currently works with the RAN Sea Power Centre where he is writing the second edition of the RAN’s Australian Maritime Operations doctrine publication. He also works with the Centre for Ocean Resources and Security at Wollongong University.

Cass Series: Naval Policy and History Series Editor: Geoffrey Till ISSN 1366–9478

This series consists primarily of original manuscripts by research scholars in the general area of naval policy and history, without national or chronological limitations. It will from time to time also include collections of important articles as well as reprints of classic works.   1 Austro-­Hungarian Naval Policy, 1904–1914 Milan N. Vego

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22 Royal Navy Strategy in the Far East, 1919–1939 Planning for a War against Japan Andrew Field 23 Seapower A Guide for the Twenty-­first Century Geoffrey Till 24 Britain’s Economic Blockade of Germany, 1914–1919 Eric W. Osborne 25 A Life of Admiral of the Fleet Andrew Cunningham A Twentieth-­Century Naval Leader Michael Simpson 26 Navies in Northern Waters, 1721–2000 Edited by Rolf Hobson and Tom Kristiansen 27 German Naval Strategy, 1856–1888 Forerunners to Tirpitz David Olivier 28 British Naval Strategy East of Suez, 1900–2000 Influences and Actions Edited by Greg Kennedy 29 The Rise and Fall of the Soviet Navy in the Baltic, 1921–1940 Gunnar Aselius 30 The Royal Navy, 1930–1990 Innovation and Defence Edited by Richard Harding 31 The Royal Navy and Maritime Power in the Twentieth Century Edited by Ian Speller

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41 Naval Coalition Warfare From the Napoleonic War to Operation Iraqi Freedom Edited by Bruce A. Elleman and S.C.M. Paine 42 Operational Warfare at Sea Theory and Practice Milan Vego 43 Naval Peacekeeping and Humanitarian Operations Stability from the Sea Edited by James J. Wirtz and Jeffrey A. Larsen 44 Indian Naval Strategy in the 21st Century James R. Holmes, Andrew C. Winner and Toshi Yoshihara 45 Seapower A Guide for the Twenty-­First Century (Second Edition) Geoffrey Till 46 Naval Power and Expeditionary Warfare Peripheral Campaigns and New Theatres of Naval Warfare Edited by Bruce Elleman and S.C.M. Paine 47 Sea Power and the Asia-­Pacific The Triumph of Neptune Edited by Geoffrey Till and Patrick Bratton 48 Maritime Private Security Market Responses to Piracy, Terrorism and Waterborne Security Risks in the 21st Century Edited by Claude Berube and Patrick Cullen

49 Twenty-­First Century Seapower Cooperation and Conflict at Sea Edited by Peter Dutton, Robert S. Ross and Øystein Tunsjø

50 Navies of South-­East Asia A Comparative Study James Goldrick and Jack McCaffrie

Navies of South-­East Asia A comparative study

James Goldrick and Jack McCaffrie

First published 2013 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2013 James Goldrick and Jack McCaffrie The right of James Goldrick and Jack McCaffrie to be identified as authors of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-Publication Data Goldrick, James. Navies of South-East Asia : a comparative study / James Goldrick and Jack McCaffrie. p. cm. – (Naval policy and history, ISSN 1366–9478 ; v 50) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Navies–Southeast Asia–History–20th century. 2. Navies– Southeast Asia–History–21st century. 3. Southeast Asia–History, Naval–20th century. 4. Southeast Asia–History, Naval–21st century. 5. Southeast Asia–Strategic aspects. I. McCaffrie, Jack, 1948– II. Title. VA620.G65 2013 359.00959–dc23 2012012869 ISBN: 978-0-415-80942-9 (hbk) ISBN: 978-0-203-09437-2 (ebk) Typeset in Baskerville by Wearset Ltd, Boldon, Tyne and Wear

Contents



List of tables Acknowledgements List of abbreviations

  1 Introduction

x xi xiii 1

  2 The Royal Brunei Navy

14

  3 Burma’s Navy

23

  4 The Royal Cambodian Navy

43

  5 The Indonesian Navy

61

  6 The Royal Malaysian Navy

92

  7 The Republic of the Philippines Navy

117

  8 The Republic of Singapore Navy

136

  9 The Royal Thai Navy

154

10 The South Vietnamese Navy

177

11 The People’s Army of Vietnam Navy

193

12 Postscript: navies and the future

212



222 273 282

Notes Bibliography Index

Tables

  2.1   3.1   4.1   5.1   6.1   7.1   8.1   9.1 11.1 12.1

Royal Brunei Navy force levels Burmese Navy force levels Royal Cambodian Navy force levels Indonesian Navy force levels Royal Malaysian Navy force levels Republic of the Philippines Navy force levels Republic of Singapore Navy force levels Royal Thai Navy force levels Vietnamese Navy force levels Hierarchy of South-­East Asian navies

22 39 58 89 115 134 151 175 210 220

Acknowledgements

This book began in 1991 when James Goldrick undertook a study of the development of South and South-­East Asian navies as a research scholar at the United States Naval War College, Newport. The study was completed at the end of 1992 and issued as a working document entitled ‘Navies in Asia’. In 1996, the South Asian component, revised, extended and brought up to date, was published in India by Lancer as No Easy Answers: The Development of the Navies of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka 1945–1996. In 2009, Jack McCaffrie proposed that the remainder of the study be used as the basis for a second book, covering South-­East Asia. This required not only significant updating of the existing country chapters, but the addition of material covering Burma, Cambodia and Vietnam, given the logic of including all the maritime members of the Association of South East Asian Nations. This book is the product of that collaborative effort. The authors are very grateful to a number of other people. For James Goldrick, this especially includes Professor John Hattendorf and Commander John Kennedy of the War College, as well as the staff of the College Library and the computer support desk. Dr Dean Allard, then head of the US Naval Historical Center, and his staff were extremely helpful, as were the late David Brown, head of the UK Naval Historical Branch, Lieutenant Commander Jock Gardner and all the team there. In Australia, Commodore Sam Bateman was instrumental in supporting the original project, while succeeding Directors and staff of what is now the Sea Power Centre, particularly Dr David Stevens, have been the source of much assistance. In addition, the library of the Australian Defence Force Academy has been a key help, as have all the staff. A special mention to one of a splendid team must go to Chris Dawkins, the military specialist librarian, whose enthusiasm and readiness to help are legendary in the Australian military history and strategic studies communities. The authors also wish to thank the many officers of the various navies of this study, whether at Newport or elsewhere, who have helped with their frank comments and insights over the many years in which the work has been in gestation. Any judgements or assertions in this book are very

xii   Acknowledgements much the responsibility of the authors and reflect their personal views alone, but our ideas have benefited substantially from the perspectives that only the members of the navies of our study could give. Finally, both authors wish to thank their families for their forbearance and support over the months and years in which this book has been in development, not only in terms of accepting the long hours that we have been shut away in studies and libraries, but also the inevitable mental disconnections that occur during the process of writing. We are especially grateful to Jack’s wife, Chris, who proofread drafts of most chapters for us.

Abbreviations

ABRI

Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia (Indonesian Armed Forces ACDC Air and Coastal Defence Command (Thailand) ACTOV Accelerated Turnover to the Vietnamese AEW&C airborne early warning and control AFPFL Anti-­Fascist People’s Freedom League AIP air independent propulsion ALRI Angkatan Laut Republik Indonesia (Indonesian Navy) ARF ASEAN Regional Forum ASEAN Association of Southeast Asian Nations ASG Abu Sayyaf Group (Philippines) ASSeTS Accompanying Sea Security Teams ASW anti-­submarine warfare BAKORKAMLA Indonesia Maritime Security Coordinating Board BRP Barko Republika Pilipinas C2 Command and Control CARAT Cooperation Afloat Readiness And Training C-­in-C Commander-­in-Chief CNO Chief of Naval Operations CSI Container Security Initiative DCP Defence Cooperation Program DE destroyer escort DERA Defence Evaluation and Research Agency EEZ Exclusive Economic Zone EU European Union FAC fast attack craft FAC-­M fast attack craft-­missile FARK Forces Armées Royales Khmères (Royal Cambodian Armed Forces) FNEO Forces Navales d’Extreme Orient (French Naval Forces Far East) FOIC Flag Officer(s) in Command FPDA Five Power Defence Arrangements

xiv   Abbreviations FUNCINPEC GDP HDML HMS Huk INS JUSMAG KD KDB KKO KODAM KOSTRAD KOTI KOWLIHAN KPRAF KRI LCA LCI LCM LCT LCU LCVP LDC LOSC LPD LPH LSI LSIL LSL LSM LSSL LST MAAG MAG MCM MCMV MLMS MMEA MNF MNK MOU MPA MRK MRNVR

Front for an Independent, Neutral, Peaceful and Cooperative Cambodia gross domestic product harbour defence motor launch His/Her Majesty’s Ship Hukbalahap (Philippine rebels) Indian Naval Ship Joint United States Military Advisory Group Kapal Diraja (Royal Ship – Malay) Kapal Di-­Raja Brunei (Royal Ship – Brunei) Korps Kommando (Indonesian Marines) Territorial Military Command (Indonesia) Army Strategic Reserve (Indonesia) Supreme Command for the Liberation of West Irian Armed Forces Regional Commands (Indonesia) Kampuchean People’s Revolutionary Armed Forces Kapal di Republik Indonesia (Indonesian Navy Ship) landing craft assault landing craft infantry landing craft medium landing craft tank landing craft utility landing craft vehicle and personnel lesser developed country Law of the Sea Convention landing platform dock landing platform helicopter landing craft infantry landing ship infantry – large landing ship – logistics landing ship medium landing support ship – large landing ship – tank Military Assistance Advisory Group Military Assistance Group mine countermeasures mine countermeasures vessels minesweeping launch Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency Malayan Naval Force Marine National Khmer (Cambodian Navy) Memorandum of Understanding maritime patrol aircraft Marine Royal Khmer (Royal Cambodian Navy) Malay Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve

Abbreviations   xv MSC MSF MSI MTB/G NATO NLD nm OPV OSP PAF PAVN PCE PKI PLA-­N PN PNP PRC PSC PSI RAF RAG RAID RAN RBAF RBN RCAF ReCAAP RFA RID RMAF RMN RMNVR RMSI RN RNLN RN (MS) RNVR RPG RSAF RSN RSS RTAF RTN SAF

mine sweeper coastal mine sweeper fleet mine sweeper inshore motor torpedo boat/gun North Atlantic Treaty Organization National League for Democracy nautical mile offshore patrol vessel Offshore Patrol (Philippines) Philippines Air Force People’s Army of Vietnam Navy escort patrol ship Communist Party in Indonesia People’s Liberation Army-­Navy Philippines Navy Philippines Naval Patrol People’s Republic of China Penang Shipbuilding and Construction Proliferation Security Initiative Royal Air Force river assault group Riverine Assault Interdiction Divisions Royal Australian Navy Royal Brunei Armed Forces Royal Brunei Navy Royal Cambodian Armed Forces Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery Against Ships in Asia Royal Fleet Auxiliary River Interdiction Divisions Royal Malaysian Air Force Royal Malayan/Malaysian Navy Royal Malayan Naval Volunteer Reserve Regional Maritime Security Initiative Royal Navy Royal Netherlands Navy Royal Navy (Malay Section) Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve river patrol group Republic of Singapore Air Force Republic of Singapore Navy Republic of Singapore Ship Royal Thai Air Force Royal Thai Navy Singapore Armed Forces

xvi   Abbreviations SAR SDML SEALORDS SEATO SIGINT SLOC SLORC SNVF SPDC SSM SSRNVR STOVL SUA SWANS t TNI-­AL UBN UMS UK UN US USCG USN USS USSR VFA WPNS

search and rescue seaward defence motor launch Southeast Asia Lake, Ocean, River and Delta Strategy Southeast Asian Treaty Organization signals intelligence sea lines of communication State Law and Order Restoration Council Singapore Naval Volunteer Force State Peace and Development Council surface-­to-surface missile Straits Settlement Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve short take off and vertical landing Suppression of Unlawful Acts Against the Safety of Maritime Navigation – Convention Singapore Women’s Auxiliary Naval Service tonne(s) Tentera Nasional Indonesia – Angkatan Laut (Indonesian Navy) Union of Burma Navy Union of Myanmar Ship United Kingdom United Nations United States (of America) United States Coast Guard United States Navy United States Ship Union of Soviet Socialist Republics Visiting Forces Agreement Western Pacific Naval Symposium

1 Introduction

Navies of South-­East Asia aims to provide a comprehensive survey of the development and operations of the navies of South-­East Asia since the end of the Second World War. These services have rarely been the subject of systematic attention by either strategists or academics but, as their parent nations develop and as the maritime strategic balance within East Asia becomes more complex and open to challenge through the rise of China, the various navies are likely to play an increasingly significant role. While most have had only limited military capability in the past, the majority are acquiring new capabilities, most notably submarines, which will profoundly alter their ability to influence events and the way in which they are regarded by their neighbours – and by the great powers.

Methodology This study sets the navies within their national context and explains the difficulties that each one has faced in developing naval capability in competition with not only local armies and air forces but other national requirements. It explains the nature of each navy’s threat assessments and the way in which it has developed its force structure. It shows the way in which each has been shaped by history and by changing maritime strategic concepts, particularly through developments such as the 1982 Law of the Sea Convention (LOSC) and the extension of national sovereignty and interests over large parts of what had before been the high seas. The study is particularly concerned to explain the restraints of limited resources, financial, technological and human, and the ways in which these have been overcome or minimized – sometimes by very different approaches to those adopted by Western navies. It seeks to understand how the navies are likely to develop in the future, what new challenges they will face and what role they will play within a region of profound and increasing global strategic significance in which great power rivalries as well as local conflicts may be at play. Achieving that understanding is not a simple matter and the considerations which relate to armies and even air forces, with their similar technological imperatives, are not those which apply to navies. It is thus

2   Introduction necessary to consider the context within which maritime forces must operate. Some problems and challenges can be considered as inherent to the naval service, no matter what its size or location, while others relate to its place in the nation and the roles which it must execute.

Context – economic Navies are institutions which function as part of the external security mechanisms of national government. It is a truism that, once brought into being, a navy must be supported. By existing, it creates its own structure of self-­interest which in turn means that attempts at reduction or abolition must carry a political price. That price assumes greater proportions as non-­military infrastructure is brought into being to support naval activities. Indonesia and Malaysia are both examples of attempts to create indigenous shipbuilding capacity which have produced shipbuilders who are only too eager to ensure that their allocation of naval work continues, even if sometimes independent of contemporary national strategic judgements and financial considerations. It is also an empirical truth, short of extraordinary changes in a country’s security position, that the proportion of resources devoted from the public purse to the upkeep of a navy will remain approximately constant. As a nation prospers and the gross domestic product (GDP) grows, so can the allocations to defence without hard arguments amongst the budget planners of government. It is even possible, as Singapore has demonstrated, to enjoy such growth rates that the proportion devoted to defence can undergo modest reduction at the same time as the real levels of spending on the armed forces are increased. Even when the economic situation is dubious and the apparent utility of a naval service in the eyes of other national interest groups equally so, it is possible, as with the Philippines, for the navy to display remarkable institutional resilience which is not wholly the result of simple inertia. The economic argument also applies to the methods of financing a navy. It is practically impossible to create or maintain a small navy in a small country without continued access to hard currency for overseas purchases, or else a continuing and sympathetic relationship with a great maritime power. Most navies in South-­East Asia would not have come into practical existence, or survived their early years, without support from overseas. Every navy in this study which existed in the period following the end of the Second World War was more or less outfitted from scratch with ships from other nations. Thus, Britain supplied Malaysia, the United States (US) supplied Thailand and the Philippines, and the US and France both provided for South Vietnam. Similarly, the Netherlands and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) were the sources of ships for Indonesia. The bulk of this outfitting was done as outright gift or at much depreciated value.

Introduction   3 After this era of ‘cargo cult’ force structure planning ended, it was the extraordinary pace of economic development throughout most of South-­ East Asia which allowed navies such as those of Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand and Singapore access to the resources they needed to operate and expand. This effect is beginning to be manifest in Vietnam. Where such development was not so marked and where there is no immediate external threat, navies have tended to stagnate, a situation faced by Thailand in particular for a period after the 1997 financial crisis and still experienced by the Philippines Navy (PN). Despite the pace of economic growth throughout most of the region, the resources which can be devoted to naval defence are not limitless. Every increase in capability, every new ship or system carries a premium in both purchase price and infrastructure costs. Both Malaysia and Thailand considered the possibility of buying submarines for well over a decade. While Malaysia now has a submarine force, the Thai Navy has yet to commit itself finally to such a purchase, largely because there has been little hope of acquiring them without the need to divert money from other arms of the service which were more fundamental to basic maritime security requirements.

Context – technological It is another truism that capability is both time-­related and type-­ dependent. A navy which operated frigates in 1952 possessed ships with medium-­range guns, anti-­submarine weapons with ranges in the order of 1,000 yards or less, a simple weapon and sensor control suite and no ability to operate embarked aircraft. Unless deliberate efforts are made to eschew a standard design feature, the frigate of 2012 will carry a helicopter, over the horizon surface-­to-surface missiles, capable point defence and electronic warfare systems and anti-­submarine weapons and sensors whose performance is orders of magnitude ahead of those of 40 years earlier. Simply by maintaining sea-­going capability, which necessitates the renewal of hulls at 20 to 30 year intervals, in an era of rapid technological change, navies can experience enormous increases in their own military capability. This is particularly apparent in maritime South-­East Asia because development – up to a certain point – has tended to favour smaller services with sea denial missions ahead of larger ones whose task is sea control. The mine, the missile, the torpedo, the fast attack craft and the submarine are all weapons of a weaker power. The technological factor appears elsewhere. Between 1945 and 1970, warships reached a peak of complexity of operation through their possession of highly complicated, maintenance intensive and user unfriendly weapons, sensors and machinery. Between the analog technology of 1950s and 1960s radars, fire control systems and sonars and the unforgiving nature of very high pressure steam machinery, a generation of ships was

4   Introduction created which were challenge enough for the sophisticated navies of industrialized nations, but impossible in their original forms for anyone else. In this particular case there were language, cultural and political difficulties involved as well, but the scale of the problem was demonstrated in spectacular fashion by the Indonesian Navy between 1958 and 1965 when dozens of Soviet ships were taken on strength but very few ever achieved, still less sustained any degree of operational capability. By accident or design, few other countries invested greatly in ships of this period. The occasional purchases made by other countries in the 1960s showed that experiments with contemporary technology could be less than happy. Both the Malaysian Rahmat and the Thai Makut Rajakumarn frigates soon had their short-­range Seacat surface-­to-air missiles removed in favour of simpler anti-­aircraft guns. After 1970, the proliferation of solid state, user and maintainer friendly weapon and sensor systems and the progressive introduction of gas turbines and more reliable high performance diesels actually meant that new construction ships were both more sophisticated and easier to operate than their predecessors. This revolution in naval operations coincided with the beginning of the self directed expansion of many of the navies in this study and they have derived considerable benefit from it.

Context – national development Because they are technologically intensive, navies require a considerable supporting infrastructure which can, in the absence of considerable outside help, only be maintained if there is both an industrial base and a reservoir of technically literate manpower. The absence of these features was a factor in retarding improvements in efficiency in most South-­East Asian services well into the 1960s. In any nation, a navy is itself an important producer of trained technical personnel, but it should not be expected to produce such technicians wholly on its own and it certainly cannot do so in the absence of a sound state education system and a high rate of national literacy. The Royal Thai Navy’s (RTN) training problems between 1950 and 1965 are a clear example of this problem, but it was also experienced by navies such as those of Indonesia and the Philippines. The remarkable progress of many of these nations in recent years has thus created conditions within which the various navies can operate more efficiently, independent of any formal changes in state or service policy. National growth can, however, create new problems in that the competition for skilled workers can become increasingly intense. The inducements to technical experts which expanding domestic industry can offer are sometimes beyond the capacity of governments and navies to match. Similarly, the creation of an industrial base often resembles the problem of the chicken and the egg. National development is a powerful argument for attempting to build ships and manufacture equipment in

Introduction   5 country, to the point that it can unlock resources for new construction which would not be made available for an overseas purchase. But there are hidden costs and difficulties. Sub-­contractors require encouragement and subsidy if the building process is not to be one simply of assembling foreign components. The ‘learning’ process associated with doing anything for the first time results in considerable increases in real costs, some of which have to be borne, whether directly or indirectly, by the navy concerned, as the Royal Malaysian Navy (RMN) discovered with the national Offshore Patrol Vessel (OPV) project. There is also a time cost. With the exception of Singapore, licensed ship construction within South-­East Asian yards has tended to take between 30 per cent and 80 per cent longer than the parent (usually European) yard to produce a completed ship. If the process goes awry, the time penalty can be even greater. Once in place, it is not always easy to keep a shipyard fully employed, since few of the navies in South-­East Asia are large enough to provide the continuity of orders. Singapore succeeded in creating a highly efficient small shipbuilding facility which could match any other yard for price, timeliness and quality, but the absence of naval orders in the 1980s found it struggling for a time to convert to non-­military work. However great the effort, the yard concerned might not be up to military requirements. The Indonesian Navy (TNI-­AL) was satisfied enough with the 57 m craft produced by PT PAL at Surabaya, but the ability to build frigates to time or to cost remains uncertain. Since overseas orders for new construction were for a long period formally illegal and politically unacceptable, this over many years resulted in a series of alternative measures to provide the ships required, including the mass purchase of ships from the former East German Navy in the early 1990s.

Context – origin Perhaps the most important ‘hidden’ factor in assessing the nature of any of the navies of South-­East Asia is that of their origin. Many of the services in this study were directly established by or with the support of the old colonial powers. Two, those of Indonesia and North Vietnam, came into existence as ‘revolutionary’ navies which had been closely involved in their countries’ efforts for independence. Indonesia enjoyed only a brief partnership with the Royal Netherlands Navy (RNLN) while North Vietnam had ambivalent relationships with the USSR and China. It is arguable that the navy of Thailand, oldest of all the navies of the study, was the only one to come into being as the result of natural internal national development, perhaps because it was the only nation not to be subject to a colonial power. As described earlier, all the navies were subject to external influence of one sort or another, but what has proved profoundly important has been the nature of that influence, in particular the methods adopted by the old

6   Introduction colonial power in creating local forces. There have been two main approaches: that of the British and that of the Americans and Russians. The former may be loosely described as being directed towards creating a naval ethos and organization, the latter was much more concerned with ships and systems. The British way was to create navies which were directly modeled on the Royal Navy (RN) with relatively little modification for national characteristics. Training, particularly officer training, was conducted according to RN methods and very often in the United Kingdom (UK). Such training included not only access to the initial entry establishments and advanced schools, but sea time in British ships. What occurred was a process of ‘immersion’ in which the national personnel concerned were very strongly imbued with a naval ethos and naval values over a period of several years. The presumption was that these personnel would take back to their own countries the best of the RN and apply it to their own service. In many ways, this is what occurred. The various services have succeeded in ‘nationalizing’ themselves while continuing to depend greatly upon their distillation of RN procedures and attitudes. In a formal sense, the British creation of administrative and command structures and support infrastructure also meant that each new navy could avoid many of the potential pitfalls of making its own way as it acquired new ships and capabilities. There was always a ‘British model’ for any arm of the service and though this might have been imperfect and not wholly suited to local needs, it was generally very much better than starting from scratch. Similarly, the British provided access to intellectual property in the form of procedures, doctrine, technical publications, logistic supply systems, communications systems, confidential books and registered publications. All of these not only ‘short circuited’ many of the processes of natural development for the navies concerned but saved them much spirit and coin which would otherwise have been expended in the processes of production anew. Much of the British facility at this process of ‘navy creation’ reflected existing experience with old Commonwealth navies, which had come into being between 1910 and 1941 and indeed, in the case of both Malaysia and Singapore, the longer independent nations of the Commonwealth such as Australia and New Zealand played their part. It was certainly a lode of expertise at dealing with national sensibilities and the realities of restricted resources which the United States Navy (USN) did not enjoy in its attempts to help with South Vietnam, the Philippines and Thailand. There was a disadvantage to the British approach. The products of the RN could imbibe great power attitudes to naval roles and naval expansion which were not appropriate to local conditions. It was easy for force structures to be defined according to British concepts rather than individual local needs. The national services could be seen by external observers as being too slavishly ‘British’ and not sufficiently national in their behaviour. There is a certain amount of truth in such suggestions but it is also true that the

Introduction   7 same external observers have mistaken some of the attitudes and methods required for efficiency within a navy with Anglicisms. One of the most distinctive legacies of the British was a super-­national attitude to naval affairs, which seemed incongruous to developing nations preoccupied with internal security problems or external land threats but which, in the context of the twenty-­first century, is increasingly relevant. The British derived services have tended to be leaders in their appreciation of the implications of the Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), increasing seaborne commerce and the need for increased inter-­navy cooperation, whether bi-­lateral or multi-­lateral. The American experience of naval assistance was not so happy and clearly, in terms of the resources devoted compared with results achieved, less successful. Although the Americans gave much equipment, set up Military Assistance Groups (MAG) in the countries they helped and opened their schools for selected training, the quality of ‘immersion’ in an ethos was relatively lacking. In consequence, the gains that were made in operational efficiency and in capability tended to be related to specific ships or equipment and to specific crews or individuals rather than the service as a whole. Consequently, it proved difficult to ensure that such progress was sustained or exploited. Despite very close relations, for example, the Philippines Navy (PN) never thought of itself as a nationalized version of the United States Navy (USN), as was the case with the RMN and the RN. While the British approach would not have been wholly appropriate to either the Indonesian or Thai condition (although both navies sought assistance with training in the 1950s), the American aid programmes were not nearly so profound in their effect on both services. The Russian approach, which neglected the infrastructure element almost totally and imposed an overt ideological slant on almost all the limited training which was conducted, proved simply disastrous in Indonesia, as was obvious to both countries, as well as to external observers. Notably, in South Asia, when India came to purchase Soviet equipment in later years, the relationship was much more businesslike and, in a material sense, much more successful, but this still took much effort on the part of the Indians.

Balancing resources: how much is good enough? what is good enough? At some point, all navies are forced to consider what levels of capability are sufficient to meet their requirements. The processes in South-­East Asia by which such judgements are made differ somewhat from those of the larger countries of the West because the financial factor is now generally more critical and the technological less so. It is certainly necessary to possess a proportion of systems which equal or exceed the quality of those possessed by other nations in the region, but not all units need be sophisticated, nor need the numbers of ‘high’ capability combatants be large, since the potential opposition may well be limited in scale itself.

8   Introduction This bears upon another point, the utility of limited power. It is generally more important that a smaller navy be capable of doing at least something than doing it particularly well. This approach exists more generally within the region for deterrent value. Indonesia’s possession of a small submarine force gives at least some credibility to the Navy’s mission of preventing external threats to the Indonesian archipelago. That for many years the submarine squadron has remained limited to two Type 209s is the result of continuing financial restrictions. There are obvious inefficiencies in the maintenance of the support infrastructure required for so small a force, as well as risks inherent in the inability to maintain continuous operational availability. But the mere existence of such vessels and the knowledge that they can operate within the archipelago creates an ‘uncertainty factor’ which no devotion of equivalent resources to other naval systems could match in deterrent effect. The problem for all the navies of this study lies in achieving the right balance. Malaysia struggled with the dilemma of devoting resources to submarines or to surveillance and surface presence forces, and eventually settled on a small submarine force. But this was preceded by a long period in which the Malaysian Navy’s judgement was that forces capable of useful operation within low-­level contingencies were more likely to be needed than the ‘ultimate solution’ of submarines.

The strategic factors The contextual factors which can be described as structural and which have helped create the conditions under which naval expansion can take place have been described above. But there are strategic concerns, in addition to expanding economies and rapid internal development, behind the progress achieved by most of the navies in this study over the last 30 years. These can be thought of as falling within two areas. First, there is for the immediate future a decreasing chance of serious conflicts between the majority of neighbours in South-­East Asia, but, at the same time, most nations within the region are uncertain as to the form which the future balance of power will take. Significantly, when fears are raised as to the prospects of a new regional hegemon arising in the wake of an American departure or drawdown, the form in which such domination will be manifested is usually discussed in naval terms. Thus, within the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) the requirement to field naval forces sufficiently sophisticated to deter a would-­be hegemon remains a subtext to much naval development and certainly provides a primary justification for continuing expenditure on equipment suitable for these purposes. The second group of factors working towards naval development is more directly concerned with economics. It includes the rising importance of the maritime sphere for economic exploitation, coupled with evolving concepts

Introduction   9 of international law and maritime jurisdiction, the continuing development of sea communications as the principal mechanism for international trade, the increasing ‘permeability’ of the sea as a national border and the vulner­ ability of littoral zones to environmental damage. In some ways, these could generally be described as coast guard rather than naval concerns, but that distinction is an American one which cannot simply be applied to this region. It ignores the fact that most ‘coast guard’ roles, particularly those concerned with the protection of sovereignty in any form, are classical ‘naval’ roles in most parts of the world. The first permanent squadron of the British Royal Navy was that employed for fishery protection. There are also obvious defence dimensions. Fishermen have always been hostages to fortune in the event of a conflict in which one maritime nation is attempting to put pressure on another. Most nations within the region now have oil rigs and other petroleum facilities deep in their EEZs which are, in several cases, of critical economic importance and which certainly require protection. Brunei depends absolutely upon its production of oil and gas: Indonesia – amongst others – relies very heavily upon its facilities. The future of the energy industry suggests that exploitation of offshore fields will increase, rather than decrease, as will the mining of the seabed and the sea itself as the means for such work are perfected. The effort devoted to fisheries continues to expand in a similar fashion, albeit with more mixed success. These activities point towards another source of concern for conflict within the region, the question of jurisdiction and mutual boundaries. The highly complex and much confused question of the Spratly Islands not only epitomizes the problems associated with the development of the Law of the Sea but is in fact the major boundary issue involving, more or less directly, all the navies of this study. There is not only a mess of conflicting claims but the claimants have occupied and more-­or-less garrisoned and fortified various of the islets, atolls and rocks as declarations, however legally dubious, of their sovereignty. That there are clear internal conflicts in the policies of several of the nations involved in the Spratlys is little surprise. The Philippines has occupied several islands but has a very limited capability to defend or support its garrisons. Malaysia can deal with most of its local rivals but could not face China, while Brunei has contented itself with diplomatic action. But the requirement to be able to assert such a presence is a prime factor in Brunei’s recent expansion and in the naval ambitions of the Philippines, while it has also appeared consistently within Malaysian force structure calculations, as well as those of Vietnam. One of the other actors in the South China Sea, Singapore, takes the Spratlys into account in assessing its requirement to provide for the defence of sea communications into and out of the country. The great bulk of Singapore’s northern trade must pass through the archipelago and the interruption of traffic as a result of conflict there would have immediate repercussions on Singapore’s well being. Thus, much of the Singapore

10   Introduction Navy’s recent development has focused on this problem and it is receiving attention in Malaysia and Indonesia, with respect to the passage of shipping through the other choke points in the region. The sea as a permeable border has affected the great majority of the navies of this study over their entire lifetimes, first through smuggling and piracy and more recently through the need for refugee control. As seaways have become progressively more crowded and the means to hand for illegal activity more sophisticated, so the pressure on local navies has increased. Although some nations have created specific coast guards or allocated some functions to marine police, the limitations on national resources inevitably bring about naval involvement in support of these services. The environment is the final consideration and it has been a moving force behind much of the impetus in South-­East Asia to assert local jurisdiction over the Malacca Strait and other busy shipping lanes. This has so far been largely a ‘police’ function, in that the primary requirements have been the protection of merchant shipping against armed robbery at sea, as well as avoidance of oil spills through collision or dumping. There could, however, be a defence dimension if neutral powers adjacent to a conflict determine that their interests would best be served by preventing the protagonists from attacking ships or facilities which carry the risk of damage to the environment. The Iran–Iraq War of the 1980s and the 1991 Gulf War showed very clearly the ease with which such damage can be wrought and must remain food for thought amongst nations which border on traffic lanes or offshore oil fields.

Providing a framework Even when the external complexity of the naval context has been accepted, an attempt to draw comparisons in the development of navies brings the immediate temptation to adopt a statistical approach, matching force levels, personnel numbers and budgets. This must be resisted, for two reasons particularly apt in the Asian context. First, even the most straightforward data are not often of a quality to allow valid comparisons. Countries construct their budgets in widely differing ways. Not all costs are admitted publicly or, if acknowledged, they are often placed under different heads. The authors of The Military Balance of the International Institute of Strategic Studies annually draw attention to the difficulties encountered in assembling their estimates and the caution with which their resulting conclusions should be taken. Their complaint is understated, for the data available from open sources is limited, confusing and often contradictory. Some of the navies of this study are typical. The Thai Armed Forces for many years were formally allocated ‘secret’ funds, the disposition of which is an internal matter. When announced, the value of international arms sales changes with each individual case, even when it does not vary wildly between vendors. Assets are transferred from friendly great powers without

Introduction   11 charge, or at prices which are ‘written down’ in proportion to the value placed upon the international relationship concerned. There are sometimes other interest groups involved in forcing a particular procurement decision on a less than willing navy. Personnel numbers might be actual or they might be authorized; they may include only effectives or they may be bloated by those who have been retained on full pay as the best alternative to an inadequate pension. When questioned in 1958 about the inordinately large number of Admirals on the active list of the RTN, the then Commander-­in-Chief (C-­in-C) remarked simply, ‘They have to eat’. All of these points highlight the second objection to an over-­reliance on statistics. Navies are profoundly complex organizations which have been and are amongst the most sophisticated expressions of the societies from which they derive. A navy functions only because of collective activity on a grand scale and with highly complex interconnections and dependencies. Because of this, navies might not defy analysis but, by their nature, they do challenge it. The apparently straightforward comparison of the force levels of two countries draws forth immediate questions which are not readily answered by tables drawn from open sources. What infrastructure exists to support sea-­going forces? Are there adequate repair facilities with sufficient expert personnel? Have purchases of ships and equipment been made with enough provision for spare parts? Is there ammunition to provide a working reserve for practice firings? What is the annual fuel allocation? How many days a year does each ship spend at sea? How many of these are in company with other ships? How many are spent conducting exercises and of what nature? What targets are available? What aircraft and submarines are there for fleet training? What proportion of personnel in each ship are qualified for their individual billets? What is the turnover of personnel within each unit and the retention rate within the service? Most of these questions can fully be answered only with the benefit of knowledge from within a particular navy – and a navy which is itself capable of collecting and collating this sort of information from its own resources. The point, however, is that tabulated data as available from open sources is valuable when assembled over time in determining the direction in which an individual service is moving, but it is of dubious utility as a comparative tool. Force levels matter; more important in making assessments is an appreciation of what each navy claims that it is capable of and what it wants to be capable of. This approach has its limitations, yet it makes possible both the identification of trends and the suggestion of comparisons in a way that is more firmly founded on fact than other approaches.

Capability and force development Nevertheless there are tools available to achieve identification and understanding of relative capabilities and this study will draw upon them

12   Introduction to bring together an understanding of naval development in South-­East Asia. The last quarter century has seen a series of increasingly sophisticated attempts to catalogue and classify the capabilities and functions of modern navies. Because these analyses focus on capability only in the general sense – ships and major weapons – the systems which Michael Morris and other authorities propose do provide a useful tool to describe Asian navies and to draw conclusions as to their roles.1 Eric Grove’s book The Future of Sea Power2 remains one of the most sophisticated efforts to date, developing previous work to propose a series of categories of progressive capability to which different navies can be allocated. With some modification, this system is applicable to South-­East Asia. Building on Morris’ work, Grove divides navies into nine ranks, of which ranks 5 to 8 are applicable to this study. The nine ranks are:

Morris/Grove Hierarchy of Navies Rank 1:  Major Global Force Projection Navy – Complete. This is a Navy considered to be capable of carrying out naval operations on a global scale. (Only the USN meets the requirements.) Rank 2:  Major Global Force Projection Navy – Partial. This is a Navy considered to be capable of carrying out less demanding operations (such as sea denial) on a substantial scale around the globe. (The USSR once met the requirements but no Navy currently does.) Rank 3:  Medium Global Force Projection Navy. (Britain and France are both capable in a limited way of global force projection, although recent reductions in British defence expenditure have endangered this status for the RN.) Rank 4:  Medium Regional Force Projection Navy. (India, Japan and China all meet the requirements of this category, with China being in the process of moving to Rank 3.) Rank 5:  Adjacent Force Projection Navy. This Navy is assessed as possessing the capability to project force offshore. Rank 6:  Offshore Territorial Defence Navy. Navies within this category are assessed as being capable of defence of their EEZs. Rank 7:  Inshore Territorial Defence Navy. Such navies should be capable of coastal defence against a sophisticated aggressor. Rank 8:  Constabulary Navy. Theses navies are capable of police functions only and could not deal with a naval threat of any sophistication. Rank 9:  Token Navy. Navies in this category possess some limited organization and a few small craft but struggle even to conduct constabulary tasks on a limited scale.

Introduction   13

A hierarchy of South-­East Asian navies One key modification is in order to make this hierarchy as relevant as possible to South-­East Asian circumstances and this is to compensate for the over emphasis within these categories on ‘force projection’ at the expense of ‘shipping protection’ which is a much greater concern for regional services. Above ‘offshore territorial defence’ there is a definite group of navies which possesses forces that are not, in general, equipped with greater endurance than is implied by the term ‘offshore’, but which do have a capacity to protect commerce from threats above and below water and at some distance from their own maritime zones. Several of the ASEAN navies have clearly moved in this direction as their key priority. For South-­ East Asia, then, the following hierarchy will be proposed, based on the analysis of this study:

Revised Hierarchy of Navies – South-­East Asia Rank 1:  Adjacent Shipping Protection: Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand b Rank 2:  Offshore Territorial Defence: Indonesia, Vietnam c Rank 3:  Inshore Territorial Defence: Brunei, Burma d Rank 4:  Constabulary: Philippines, Cambodia a

For each chapter a table will be provided which outlines the major categories and the ships and systems which are applicable to each. It will indicate what equipment has been obtained since 1945 and in which categories particular navies have experienced no activity. In the concluding chapter of Navies of South-­East Asia this hierarchical approach will be tempered with the judgements of the analysis of each navy to provide a credible effort to suggest the likely shape of the future development of the maritime forces of the region.

2 The Royal Brunei Navy

An oil rich enclave in Borneo, Brunei has the distinction of being the smallest nation in South-­East Asia and one of the richest. It possesses considerable gas and petroleum deposits, which have allowed an otherwise unviable state to prosper independently of larger neighbours, such as Malaysia and the Philippines. Nevertheless, Brunei’s small population has always meant that it has struggled to maintain viable defences, however well provided its budget.

Early development Brunei was a protectorate of the UK from 1888 until 1984 and began developing defence capabilities only in the late 1950s, initially to guarantee internal security.1 An abortive revolt in 1962–1963, which required the intervention of British and Malayan forces to sustain the position of the ruling Sultan,2 accelerated development of local forces. While Brunei remained outside the Federation of Malaysia established in 1963,3 Britain initially provided sufficient guarantee of defence against external threat for development to concentrate on counter-­insurgency land forces. The Royal Brunei Malay Regiment was established in 1961, with British assistance, as the core of future expansion.4 The pace of development soon quickened with the start of Confrontation with Indonesia, in which Brunei was, through its co-­location with Sabah and Sarawak and its association with the British, a primary target of the Indonesians.5 This provoked the first steps towards a maritime defence capability through an indigenous patrol and intervention force for Brunei’s territorial waters. A fast patrol boat, Pahlawan, was ordered from Britain in 1965 and commissioned into the Regiment in 1967.6 Continuing reliance on Britain ensured that there were no immediate follow-­on orders to the Pahlawan, but the British decision in 1966 to withdraw from the Far East and the subsequent acceleration of that process in 1967–19687 meant the prospective loss of great power protection for Brunei. Britain would retain absolute control, in theory, over Brunei’s external defence, even after a 1959 protectorate agreement was

Brunei   15 8

renegotiated in 1971 but, more to the point, the UK’s capability to defend Brunei against a serious threat was now doubtful, particularly as reinforcement of the Gurkha Regiment in country would have to be conducted through Malaysia, which might well have another agenda for Brunei. The development of offshore oil fields in the mid-­1960s9 as the primary source of Brunei’s petroleum production and thus its national income, created a highly vulnerable maritime target through which pressure could be exerted on Brunei. The little nation was not covered by the Five Power Defence Arrangements (FPDA) and therefore could not rely on Australian or New Zealand assistance, which cut the maritime assets available for reinforcement to two RN frigates.10 Furthermore, by 1975 that presence had ended, leaving only a small squadron of patrol craft in Hong Kong.

Planning for external security These realities combined to ensure the creation of air and naval components within the newly designated Royal Brunei Armed Forces (RBAF ) as the Regiment formally assumed responsibility for external defence. A strike against the oil rigs was one of the less probable but more feasible means by which an aggressor could put pressure on Brunei, pointing to the need for maritime combat forces.11 The resulting Flotilla developed on two levels. Acquisition of French SS-­12 surface-­to-surface missiles (SSM) for the Pahlawan in 1972 created an embryo surface warfare capability. This reflected Malaysian efforts to create their own missile craft force. A second phase improved coastal surveillance and the inshore and riverine transport elements of the Armed Forces, through the purchase of coastal patrol craft in Singapore and small landing craft from the UK. While Brunei’s naval development was not constrained financially, there were several other restraints in the early 1970s. First, although Brunei and Malaysia were in dispute over land and maritime territorial boundaries, rapid expansion of the RBAF could have had an unsettling effect on the situation. Second, Brunei’s small population limited the manpower available for the Armed Forces. There were many British loan and contract personnel within the RBAF, but the Brunei government naturally wished to avoid Brunei military units having too great an expatriate component. Third, the British officers involved were a conservative influence, being unwilling to recommend equipment outside the practical capacity of the RBAF.

The Flotilla takes shape In 1976 orders were placed in Singapore for three missile-­armed fast attack craft (FAC) and in France for 36 Exocet missiles.12 Because each unit could carry only two Exocets, this large missile order represented a much more

16   Brunei realistic estimate of the needs of maintenance and practice firings than the purchases of many new missile navies. The three Waspada class, with a trio of smaller Perwira class coastal patrol craft, would constitute the core of the flotilla for 20 years to come. Comprehensive support facilities, including a synchrolift, were constructed at Muara in time for the arrival of the three Waspadas from Singapore in 1979. A Special Combat Squadron was created and its personnel trained in close combat on the oil rigs, while the inshore and riverine task fell to a separate River Division. As the RBAF grew, Brunei began to acquire a credible defence posture in the wake of the final separation from Britain. Manpower pressure was relieved by the UK-­Brunei agreement to retain a Gurkha battalion in country after 1983.13 Equally important for Brunei’s security was the fact that relations with both Indonesia and Malaysia improved markedly after 1981. Malaysia had maintained fitful pressure on Brunei during the 1970s in an attempt to persuade the Sultan to join the Federation, but had come to accept Brunei’s special status.14 The Flotilla’s operational concepts still focused on oil rig protection. The force had to prevent strikes against the rigs by hostile surface forces and any attempts to insert armed parties by sea. Although limited for operations elsewhere within Brunei’s EEZ after its declaration in 1983, this approach matched the capabilities of the small force of missile and patrol craft and their restricted command and control (C2) facilities. Even with many RN and British contract personnel working both at sea and ashore, the Flotilla had to develop an adequate experience base amongst its personnel before considering more ambitious operational requirements.

Regional cooperation The Flotilla did not work in isolation. The British connection was sustained through regular visits by patrol craft from the RN Hong Kong squadron for joint exercises, and bilateral activities were undertaken with most of Brunei’s neighbours and friends in the region. By the mid-­1980s, regular bilateral exercises were being conducted with Singapore and Malaysia15 and with Indonesia and Australia. Apart from the exposure to other navies, these exercises were particularly useful in allowing the Flotilla to practise against ‘aggressors’ within its own intended theatre of operations. The relationship with Singapore became particularly close, with the construction of the majority of the Flotilla in Singaporean yards, and because of the parallels in the two nations’ situations as enclaves in South-­East Asia.16

Nationalization Staff and operational billets within the Flotilla were progressively nationalized through the 1980s, although a strong British component supported

Brunei   17 the technical elements. Recruiting for both officers and sailors became a perennial problem. The availability of many easier jobs for Brunei nationals outside the armed services made it difficult to recruit sufficient suitable entrants. Furthermore, the RBAF at 4,000 men consumed approximately 13 per cent of the total national manpower pool, which was estimated to be the highest proportion of any volunteer national defence force in the world.17 By 1991, the Flotilla numbered only 50 officers and 530 men, including those allocated to the Special Combat Squadron and the River Division.18 The nationalization process also had implications for operational efficiency, since it was difficult to ensure that personnel had sufficient expertise for newly opened up billets. Personnel thus constituted the major stumbling block to logical expansion of the Flotilla. Brunei’s EEZ claims involved boundary disagreements with Malaysia, both close to the coast and near the much disputed Spratly Islands, which were also the subject of Chinese claims. Unless Brunei acquired a much improved surveillance and presence capability, it risked being ignored in international discussions of demarcation issues. The surveillance requirement could be met partly through a small maritime air wing which was established in 1989 with an order for three CN-­235 aircraft from Indonesia. The choice was very much a goodwill gesture to Indonesia, to encourage that country’s nascent aircraft industries. Brunei had reservations about an aircraft that was not ideal for long-­range surveillance,19 but was simple and of moderate size. This suited the Air Force, which faced the daunting prospect of acquiring a fighter force with a trained personnel base as limited as that of the Flotilla.20

Towards an offshore capability Planning for a corvette force started in the late 1980s. The RBAF wanted three ships of about 1,000 t, with high speed and able to operate a helicopter. The RBAF did not seek an anti-­submarine capability and even indicated that it was content with an SSM equivalent to the relatively short-­ranged MM38 Exocet.21 The emphasis was on increasing the Flotilla’s reach and its command and control capabilities rather than acquiring new weapons systems; thus the proposed ships were frequently designated as OPVs rather than corvettes. Since it was intended to keep at least the Waspada class in operation with the new OPVs, the Flotilla would need considerable personnel expansion. Even with minimum manning in the OPVs, the sea-­going numbers would triple, with an accompanying increase in shore-­based and support personnel.22 As expected, the initial order for three Vigilance class corvettes went to Vosper Thorneycroft, a UK firm, in October 1989.23 The Waspada class meanwhile began modernization to extend their service lives and provide improved fire control and electronic surveillance systems. However, the contract for the corvettes was never signed and in September 1990

18   Brunei the competition was reopened at a more leisurely pace.24 Internal politics aside, this at least gave the Flotilla time in which to prepare itself. Had the Vosper Thorneycroft order been carried out, the RBAF would have commissioned the new ships in 1993–1994, an impossibility without the effective deactivation of the remainder of the flotilla. The manpower problem remained.

To the new century The Flotilla, redesignated the Royal Brunei Navy (RBN) in 1991, continued to be dogged by the crewing issue. Brunei could afford the ships and the supporting infrastructure it needed, but the Sultanate insisted that RBN units be manned almost exclusively by nationals. Consequently, any commitment to a particular OPV design had to include extensive training in association with the Navy of the shipbuilding nation and with other friendly services. Within the RBAF there needed to be a shift in priorities towards strengthening the maritime element. Much of the force structure had been determined when internal security and border requirements were more pressing than they were in 1992. Even so, as the new ships were inducted, there would be an unavoidable hiatus in the RBN’s operational status if the required EEZ surveillance capabilities were to be achieved. Consistent with the efforts of other ASEAN maritime forces at the time, the RBN began a new capability upgrade programme in 1994. Increased areas of maritime jurisdiction, maritime sovereignty disputes and a desire for more national security self-­reliance were among the reasons proffered for increasing defence spending.25 These issues were also a reason for acquiring larger vessels.26 Thus, tenders were called for an unspecified number of 20 m patrol craft, possibly as replacements for the ageing Perwira class.27 Additionally, on 28 April a request for tenders was issued to British, German and US shipyards for three corvettes displacing up to 1,500 t and up to 85 m in length. These were to be capable ships, armed with a 76 mm gun, surface-­to-surface and surface-­to-air missiles,28 a close in weapons system, torpedoes and with space for one medium weight helicopter.29 They were also to incorporate comprehensive sensor and communications suites. In a move that may have concerned potential tenderers, Brunei indicated that it might appoint a British prime contractor to manage the programme, under a joint defence equipment and infrastructure Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) signed with the British Government in December 1994.30 Ultimately, Brunei awarded the US$935 million contract to the British company, Yarrow Shipbuilders Ltd.31 Construction was to begin in 1997, with the first ship to be delivered in January 2000. Predictably, there were reports of unhappiness among the unsuccessful bidders.32 There also appears to have been unease in Brunei over

Brunei   19 subsequent British pressure to buy a British combat system for the OPVs.33 Ultimately, a primarily British equipment fit was selected for the ships, including the GEC-­Marconi Nautis combat system. Delays in finalizing the equipment selection prevented signing of the prime contract with Yarrows until 16 January 1998.34 While the future of the OPVs was being determined, the RBN made other modest force structure gains, notably the addition of two landing craft. Kapal Di-­Raja Brunei (KDB) Serasa and KDB Teraban, utility landing craft (LCU) built by Transfield in Western Australia and commissioned on 8 November 1996.35 The RBN also decided again to upgrade its three Waspada class FAC with new radar, electro-­optical tracking and fire control systems and integrated tactical displays.36 By this point, it was accepted that the Waspadas would be replaced by the new OPVs in a move common throughout South-­East Asia, as smaller FAC were making way for more capable ocean-­going combatants.37 This was also recognition of the RBN’s manpower limitations and the missile boats’ increasing age.

International cooperation Despite its size, the RBN maintained impressive relationships with foreign navies and defence forces. Prime among these was its continuing relationship with the RN, demonstrated in 1997 in Exercise Setia Kawan II, a major combined joint exercise involving the RN, Royal Air Force (RAF ), Royal Marines, Gurkhas and RBAF.38 The RBN also took part in the PN centennial fleet review in Manila Bay on 22 May 1997. These relationships continued into the new century with five RBN units joining the PN in Exercise Sea Gull 01–03 in April 2003, one of a biennial series of Sea Gull exercises. The RBN established the annual CARAT (Cooperation Afloat Readiness and Training) exercises with the USN in 1995.39 Brunei also maintained a strong defence cooperation relationship with Australia, based on an agreement signed in 1985. Personnel exchanges and training as well as biennial naval exercises were conducted within the cooperation agreement.40 An even closer relationship was maintained with Singapore, with the 27th exercise in the bilateral Exercise Pelican series conducted off the Brunei coast in April 2006.41 Six RBN vessels participated in this event.

New century-­old problems Brunei’s offshore oil and gas reserves and the potential for disputes over associated maritime boundaries continued to be a major factor in Brunei’s defence planning. Indicative of the related stresses was the September 2000 meeting in China involving Brunei, Malaysia, the Philippines and Vietnam, to develop a code of conduct among the rival claimants to the Spratly Islands in the South China Sea.42 Subsequently, Brunei produced its first Defence White Paper in July 2004, ending a six year process

20   Brunei assisted by Australia.43 Major force development implications included improved ground-­based air defence, more maritime patrol aircraft and possibly the introduction of fixed-­wing combat aircraft. The White Paper focused on maritime operations in the EEZ and acknowledged a need to improve coastal and offshore surveillance.44 It also claimed an improved personnel situation, with a significant and still growing proportion of positions being filled by locals in place of seconded British personnel, but events were to prove this judgement over-­optimistic. Brunei’s most ambitious force structure development occurred with the completion of the three OPVs. The first and second of the three Nakhoda Ragam class 1,940 t offshore patrol vessels, Nakhoda Ragam and Bendahara Sakam were launched at Scotstoun in January and June 2001 and the third, Jerambak, followed in June 2002.45 These events drew attention to the still difficult personnel situation. Numbers had to be boosted relatively quickly if the RBN was to be able to take advantage of the new ships. Consequently, in mid-­2001 – leaving matters rather late – the Navy announced plans to increase its manpower numbers by 50 per cent to 1200.46 While the raw numbers did not appear to be large, in Brunei’s circumstances they were highly significant. The country had only some 60,000 men fit for service between the ages of 15 and 49. The RBN had little room for error and there was speculation that foreign contractors would be needed to crew the ships.47 Yet the project continued apace, with the first unit beginning contractor’s sea trials early in 2002. In September 2002 reports indicated that the first pair were performing well and achieving speeds of over 30 knots.48 Handover was scheduled between September 2003 and March 2005. Crew training was arranged through a US$10 million contract with Flagship Training in the UK and final sea trials were to be with the RN’s Flag Officer Sea Training.49 Nakhoda Ragam was to sail to Devonport for these final trials in early 2004 and leave for Brunei in March that year.50 By April 2005 major difficulties had emerged, with the Brunei government refusing to accept the three corvettes because they did not meet specifications.51 BAE Systems insisted that the ships did meet the required performance levels and the matter was referred to the International Court of Arbitration. Some commentators argued that Brunei’s refusal had more to do with the RBN’s difficulty in establishing the personnel and support infrastructure needed for the ships.52 This was subsequently denied by Brunei, which claimed any personnel shortages could have been resolved by engaging experienced foreign sailors.53 While the dispute continued, the three ships remained in care and maintenance at Scotstoun, before being moved to Barrow. Later reports lent more credibility to the suggestion that personnel difficulties were behind the decision to reject the OPVs.54 Following adjudication of the case between Brunei and BAE, the decision expected by the end of 2006 was set aside to allow further negotiation. Apparently BAE and the Brunei government did reach an ‘amicable

Brunei   21 55

conclusion’ to the matter. Essentially, although the RBN did not intend putting the corvettes into service, they were accepted, for the purpose of on-­selling them. A later report suggested that Brunei ultimately paid the full price for the OPVs.56 Continuing the unusual nature of the entire project, the German shipbuilder Lürssen Werft, was selected to dispose of the ships.

Breaking the mould Brunei issued an update to its Defence White Paper in mid-­2007 which confirmed that the RBN still needed ‘several patrol vessels’ which would be up to 80 m in length.57 The update also reflected the growing need to provide replacement fast patrol boats. Beyond that, the update retained the earlier focus on information management, networked forces and additional maritime patrol aircraft. Although the defence budget was being reduced slightly, these ambitions remained feasible because major equipment acquisition was separately funded.58 In what was a remarkable turnaround, the RBN accepted the first two of three Darussalam class corvettes at the Lürssen shipyard in Bremen on 7 January 2011.59 Furthermore, the third of the trio was launched just a day before. Darussalam and Darulehsan were delivered to Brunei, arriving in May 2011, crewed fully by RBN officers and sailors.60 The third ship, Darulaman, was accepted into service in Brunei on 12 December 2011.61 The new corvettes are 80 m in length, armed with a 57 mm Bofors gun and Exocet MM40 anti-­ship missiles, and undoubtedly will provide the RBN with its long awaited ocean-­going capability. Given the protracted difficulties associated with the BAE-­sourced OPVs, Brunei’s ability to achieve such a satisfactory outcome in an apparently short time is welcome. Yet the procurement process was strangely opaque. The new corvettes were sighted but not definitively identified in Germany in mid-­2009, as neither Lürssen nor the RBN would comment on rumours that the ships were being constructed for Brunei.62 Reports also suggested that two classes of vessel were being built – smaller patrol craft as well as the larger vessels.63 The puzzle was resolved with the publication of photographs of a corvette after the launch of the first of class in March 201064 and identification of the 41 m craft, Ijhtihad (Class name) and Berkat as operational in March 2010. Two more, Syafaat and Afiat entered service in August 2010.65 A final component of the plan became clear with the commissioning of a German designed, but Singapore built 27 m fast patrol craft, Musta’ed, in November 2011.66 Although all these units may have been simpler than the OPVs of the abortive BAE project, they represented a substantial increase in the capability but also the manpower requirements of the Navy. It was thus logical that two of the still serviceable Waspadas were transferred to the Indonesian Navy in 2011,67 with the third likely to follow.

22   Brunei Table 2.1  Royal Brunei Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy 2 2 3 3 4 N/A

Corvettes Missile craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Patrol craft Landing craft

1972

1982

1992

2002

2012

– 1 – –

– 3 – –

– 3 – –

– 3 – –

3 1 – –

– –

3 2

3 + 8** 2

3 + 10** 4

4 + 10** 4

Sources: Jane’s Fighting Ships; The Military Balance. Notes **  Starred figure covers patrol craft greater than 14 metres operated by the Police.

Conclusions The problems which any small navy experiences in altering its force structure are magnified by the tiny size of the RBN and the complex personnel issues involved. Yet Brunei’s continuing South China Sea EEZ claims dictate that its maritime capabilities must be improved, however difficult their execution. These claims will almost certainly determine Brunei’s economic future, noting that the country’s proven oil reserves could be exhausted by 2020, creating increasing dependence on gas.68 Seismic studies have already indicated ‘vast untapped crude oil reserves’ in deeper areas of the EEZ – areas that are contested by neighbouring countries.69 There has been no indication, thus far, that the contending sovereignty and sovereign rights claims in the South China Sea will soon be resolved. In a region in which the Republic of Singapore Navy (RSN) has come to epitomize the concept of the ‘small navy’ – very well equipped, crewed and supported – the RBN remains a minor enigma. Its ambitions and plans are well funded and are for now fairly well realized. Yet, tensions remain. The demands of sovereignty and resource zone protection will continue as long as the Sultanate has natural resources which generate income. To this point money has not been an object but the availability of suitable personnel has. Now, despite predictions to the contrary, associated with the failed British OPV attempt, the RBN has apparently been able to man the new corvettes and patrol craft largely from the local workforce. This is a significant result for Brunei and one which the Sultanate will no doubt wish to repeat in the future. The demands associated with any significant increases in naval capability, however, are such that Brunei may not be able to do so. If this proves to be the case, the RBN will face the choice of utilizing foreign loan and contract personnel, with the issues inherent, or relying on support from reliable neighbours. In this case, the RBN’s relationship with the RSN is likely to become even closer and more important.

3 Burma’s Navy

Independence and uncertainty Burma came to independence in the wake of the Second World War, amidst confusion and dispute between elements who had supported the Japanese and those who had remained loyal to the British. There was also furious dissent within a number of subsidiary states and ethnic groups which would be incorporated unwillingly into the 1947 Union of Burma through the British agreement with the Burmese nationalist elements under Aung San.1 The nation’s difficult beginnings would dominate its later history. Many of the country’s structures and administration systems had to be rebuilt from the ground up, and this applied equally to commerce and industry. Underdeveloped, with a fragile political system and in danger of losing much of its periphery and even its heartland to insurgents, nothing would be easy. Nonetheless, the country was under the leadership of elements determined to assert Burmese independence and make their own national way. Rebellions soon started as muslim and communist groups derided the ‘sham independence’. Communists threatened the capital, Rangoon, in July 1948 and Karens and Kachins captured Mandalay in March 1949. By April 1949 rebels controlled most of the countryside and even parts of Rangoon.2 Although the government eventually restored its position, the problem of minority group-­led insurgency would remain a feature of Burmese life. In spite of these challenges, however, parliamentary demo­ cracy and its associated freedoms were largely respected in Burma until 1958.3 During this first decade of independence much of the economy was nationalized, including transport, industry and land.4

The beginnings of Burma’s Navy Despite early instability in the Army, its leaders were determined to support the government and fashion a unified and orderly socialist nation.5 The continuing insurgencies made the priorities for the new

24   Burma national armed forces very clear and there was no doubt, at least from the Army’s perspective, that its focus would be on restoration of internal control and suppression of insurgency. That focus very soon determined the path of development for the Union of Burma Navy (UBN). The naval component of the new Burmese armed forces originated in the Burma Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve (RNVR), which had been created in 19406 and participated in operations against the Japanese. It was never very big, and the UBN formed in 1947 with just 700 men.7 Nevertheless, a start was soon made. In 1945 Burma’s RNVR had in service one 76 foot motor launch which had come from the Straits Settlements Patrol Service. It was armed and capable of minesweeping.8 With the formation of the UBN came additional craft from the British, including two more 76 foot launches, plus 13 smaller harbour defence motor launches (HDML), two motor minesweepers, six motor fishing vessels and 23 harbour and river craft.9 Four ex-­British gun armed landing craft were also acquired for use as river gunboats.10 The UBN’s limited offshore combat capability would rest in the ex-­Royal Navy River class frigate Fal, renamed Mayu and transferred in 1947. The Navy was to receive relatively little early funding. Burma itself remained poor and the government had access only to a limited tax base. The ongoing insurgencies meant that defence soon consumed some 30 per cent of overall government spending, but this was largely to support current operations. Second, the insurgencies gave the Army priority; and, third, Burma was reluctant to accept foreign military aid except on its own terms.11 All this meant that, like the Air Force, in practice the Navy would work primarily in support of the Army.12 Initially, the UBN protected river convoys, carried supplies, ferried troops and provided fire support to the Army.13 In 1948 it was also instrumental in retaking the port city of Moulmein from Karen rebels. Otherwise, the Navy’s efforts were largely directed to controlling the inland waterways,14 for the most part unopposed, although one armed river craft did defect to the Karen.15

Early development By 1953 the UBN had at least grown in vessel numbers. Despite the forced retirement of 23 harbour and river craft, additional units came from British loans and from the US under the Mutual Defense Assistance Program.16 They included five motor launches, four tugs and ten ex-­US Coast Guard (USCG) cutters. These latter were shallow draft craft converted to river gunboats, primarily for counter-­insurgency work in the Irrawaddy delta.17 Other additions included a boom defence vessel chartered from the RN, while the requirements of the inland waterways brought about the purchase of a 108 t vessel for river surveying.18 Despite its limited resources, the Burma Navy was to maintain a surveying capability from this time on. The hydrography department was based at

Burma   25 Monkey Point in Rangoon and soon produced its own charts. It would keep busy both on the coast and inland, particularly in resurveying rivers subject to frequent flooding and silting.19 The UBN continued to enjoy quiet support from the British. Although much of its focus continued to be on expanding the river gunboat force with the beginnings of a local building programme, the withdrawal of a number of HDML and other small craft was matched in 1956–1958 by the acquisition of five fast motor torpedo/gunboats20 (MTB/G) and a large minesweeper from the UK. Aid from the United States was more fitful, but the surviving ex-­USCG craft were replaced by ten larger vessels.21 By the mid-­1950s the Burma Navy had bases in Rangoon, Akyab and Mergui. In 1960, the Navy commissioned two Nawarat class 400 t river gunboats (later designated corvettes) which had been built in the government dockyard near Rangoon.22 This local activity was one facet of long-­term Burmese efforts to reduce dependence on the West. Another came in the form of ten Y-­301 class river patrol boats, built in Yugoslavia and delivered in January and February 1960.23 The ‘non-­aligned’ link between Yugoslavia and Burma would be sustained in the years ahead. Logistics for all services were handled by the Quartermaster General’s Department, although major purchases were made by the Procurement Department.24 Supply was affected by a lack of funding and by poor transport infrastructure. The military training regime was formalized with the establishment in 1955 of the Defence Services Academy which offered four-­year degree courses for cadets of each service. Between 150 and 200 places were offered each year to the 3,000 applicants. Graduating cadets were allocated to the services on the basis of service need.25 There was also an Officers Training School which ran four-­month courses for university graduates and selected enlisted men. Enlisted personnel were selected by service and undertook basic training courses that lasted from three to nine months. Burma also established a National Defence College to provide advanced professional training for senior officers.26 From the early 1950s the Burmese military sought foreign training courses for its senior officers, beyond the one place Britain had been supplying since 1949.27 Australia allocated a place on the Army Staff College course from 1953,28 and provided training for Burmese Army and Air Force personnel in technical and other courses in the mid-­1950s. Intriguingly, the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) resisted providing training to Burmese Navy personnel,29 most likely because of a lack of capacity.

The military takes over By 1960, the Burma Navy was still primarily a riverine patrol force equipped to support operations against the ongoing insurgencies. The sea-­going capability, which resided in one frigate and one minesweeper,

26   Burma remained nominal and the focus was very firmly on domestic security. This was justified. Insurrections had continued throughout the 1950s, notably in Shan State. Rural instability also followed the split of the Anti-­Fascist People’s Freedom League (AFPFL) in 1956, which left Prime Minister U Nu leading a minority government.30 General Ne Win accepted his offer to lead a caretaker government and promised elections within six months – but only if conditions allowed. The general’s priorities included restoring order to government administration. He put senior military officers into government departments and gave control of state enterprises to the Defence Services Institute.31 In February 1960, Ne Win began handing power back to the civilian government. The military, however, were now deeply involved in domestic policy and the effects were soon apparent. The economy continued to deteriorate and was failing to regain even pre-­war activity levels.32 By 1962, the private sector was being encouraged by the government in an effort to accelerate growth, but this was against the wishes of many in the Army. On 2 March 1962 General Ne Win seized power, claiming a faltering economy, animosities over Buddhism being declared the state religion and a lack of government commitment to socialism.33 The newly formed Revolutionary Council attempted to create a centrally planned socialist economy and the military took control of every level of administration.34 The military, soon renamed the People’s Armed Forces, now embraced two functions: defending national security and developing a socialist state. Over the nine years from 1963 the economy was nationalized and the government funded an industrialization process – to the detriment of the rural sector. Although some military aid from the West continued in the 1960s, Burma intensified its policy of shunning alliances and became increasingly xenophobic and isolationist, reflecting Ne Win’s own personality.35 Burma was prepared to seek help from countries like Israel and Yugoslavia and multilateral bodies such as the United Nations and the Colombo Plan, but very much on its own terms. Similarly, Burma, as a prime mover in establishing the Non Aligned Movement (it was to withdraw in 1979, citing too much eastern bloc influence36) attracted large diplomatic missions from the US, USSR and People’s Republic of China (PRC),37 which could to some extent be played off against each other. This internal focus and exaggerated desire for self-­reliance created tensions for the Navy, which required continuing foreign support, not only for equipment but to maintain the necessary technical and operational expertise that was so difficult to develop in a small and resource starved service. Such foreign involvement would be increasingly regarded as alien by a dominant Army. The Navy’s recourse was to distribute personnel under training to other, smaller and (ideally) non-­aligned countries, as well as retaining limited access to British and American naval schools,38 but it would have had difficulty in assessing the merits of and applying the knowledge gained from such diverse sources. Matters were not improved

Burma   27 by the requirement for all three services to undertake civic action programmes associated with establishing and maintaining a socialist state,39 activities unlikely to assist in the professionalization of the Navy. In the short term, however, changes within the Burma Navy force structure during the early and mid-­1960s were still largely transfers from overseas, particularly from the United States. Notably, some of the ships involved were capable of offshore operations. Thus, although they represented no significant naval combat force, they suggested at least partial acknowledgement by Burma’s government that its external maritime interests needed attention. The first, in June 1965, was of a former escort patrol ship (PCE) USS Farmington, which became Yan Taing Aung in Burmese service.40 Any anti-­submarine sensors and weapons fitted to this unit were unlikely to have been effective, since anti-­submarine warfare (ASW) skills are the most difficult maritime warfare skills to acquire and maintain. There is no evidence that Burma’s Navy could have done so. Nevertheless, both Yan Taing Aung and the very similar fleet minesweeper (MSF ), Creddock, transferred in March 1967, as the Yan Ghi Aung,41 were weatherly craft of good endurance, well suited to the work of offshore patrol, their real priority. The US transfers were completed with the provision of a utility landing craft (LCU) in 1967 and a number of small patrol gunboats, suitable for coastal work. Inshore and riverine operations retained their importance, however, and in 1965 the Navy acquired an additional 25 Michao class river patrol boats from Yugoslavia. Local shipyards continued to produce small craft, including in 1969 two improved versions of the Y-­301, built at Sinmalaik, upriver from Rangoon. The riverine capability was strengthened, at least temporarily, by the formation of naval infantry battalions of 800 men in 1964 and 1967. Both were deployed to Arakan, Tenasserim and the Irrawaddy delta for counter-­insurgency and other operations.42 The battalions were short-­lived, being disbanded for unknown reasons in 1968 – but perhaps because elements in the Army feared a less than reliable Navy possessing forces which might give it influence in internal politics. It would be some years before a naval infantry force was revived. In 1967 the Navy acquired a light forces support ship of 520 t from Japan. Additional hydrographic survey capability came in 1965, through a Yugoslav-­built ocean survey ship displacing 1,059 t, which was capable of operating a light helicopter.43 Subsequently, a Singaporean fisheries research ship arrested in 1974 was taken into Burma Navy service in 1981 as a survey vessel.44 Yet another hydrographic survey ship was sourced from the Netherlands.

Into the 1970s By Burma Navy standards the 1960s were reasonably good years, the 1970s less so. The Navy had trouble preventing the deterioration of its older

28   Burma vessels and was overdue for recapitalization. Ships that had to pay off from the Navy included the five MTB/G procured from Britain in the late 1950s, a transport ship in service since the late 1960s and one of the gun-­ armed medium landing craft. Defence spending remained at about 30 per cent of total government outlays, but was still very constrained. Equipment replacement, modernizations and spares were rarely funded and current spending accounted for about 90 per cent of the defence budget, with most of the remainder buying spares for imported equipment. The situation mirrored that of the nation as a whole. In April 1972, ostensibly to enable the transition to ‘socialist democracy’, Ne Win and 20 other senior officers resigned their commissions, but Ne Win stayed on as Prime Minister. A new constitution was approved by referendum in December 197345 and Ne Win became President of the Socialist Republic of the Union of Burma in March 1974. With acceptance of the new constitution the military had reduced visibility but retained influence over the government. Command of the Burmese military now rested in the State Council chaired by the President and operated through the Council of Ministers to the Ministry of Defence, which was the joint integrated headquarters. The most senior military officer, a full General, was the Minister and also Chief of Staff of the services.46 The Minister exercised operational command of the three services. He was assisted by an advisory National Security Council and three Vice Chiefs of Staff, who were the heads of the individual services as well as Deputy Ministers of Defence. All were based in Rangoon at the Ministry of Defence. The service chiefs were responsible for infrastructure management and administration of their services. Nine regional military commands were headed by Army officers, usually Brigadiers. The Burma Socialist Programme Party supervised party activities in each of the services and paralleled the military organization down to platoon, or equivalent, level.47 Furthermore, the Minister kept six army divisions and all naval and air force units at his disposal. In practice, these arrangements maintained the domination of the Army within the armed forces, a situation confirmed in 1981, when the Vice Chief of Staff (Army) position was upgraded to Lieutenant General, while the other service chiefs remained at Major General rank.48 Burma’s insurgencies continued apace, some backed by China. Unrest was endemic and national unity remained elusive, with strikes and riots over pay, prices and food shortages. Reflecting the extent of the discontent, even Buddhist monks called for the overthrow of the one-­party system.49 The economy began to improve only after the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank in 1976 approved additional loans to Burma and recommended reform of the country’s economic system. From 1977 to 1981, with the benefit of these measures, the Gross Domestic Product grew at more than 6 per cent per annum.50 Defence spending rose from kyat 722 million in 1974 to kyat 1.4 billion in 1981 but, as a proportion of

Burma   29 51

total government spending, dropped to 19.5 per cent in 1981. Nonetheless, the improved economic conditions enabled more military purchases, with the priority for equipment late in the decade favouring aviation.52 Through the 1970s the military gained some ascendancy over insurgents, especially in the north-­east. Matters were helped by China’s decision to stop aiding the Burmese Communist Party, which still had its own ­People’s Army of up to 15,000 troops. Coincidentally, drugs became a bigger problem and authorities came to believe that most remaining anti-­ government groups engaged in black market and drug trading.53 Opium production flourished despite a major eradication programme in 1975, with some 500 tonnes being grown each year. The problem had a maritime dimension as the Andaman Sea was a drug export route.54 By the end of the decade, Burma’s Government was also showing interest in offshore patrolling and the protection of offshore resources and the consequent need to renew naval capability.55 Major Navy commitments included countering fish poaching, smuggling, insurgent movements and piracy in Burma’s 148,000 km² maritime zone, and it had great difficulty in meeting them. Through the 1980s operations were sometimes intensive in the Tenasserim Division, as the many islands and inlets and the proximity of the Mergui Archipelago to Thailand and Malaysia encouraged illegal activities.56 Activities in the Andaman Sea and Bay of Bengal were less common because of the few ships with adequate sea-­keeping capacity and because of logistic difficulties. The same issues meant that foreign port calls by Burmese naval vessels were infrequent. In 1981 Burma signed an accord with the US to review military aid and, in December, received the first high-­level US military delegation for over 30 years. This thaw in relations resulted in a few officers receiving military training in the US between 1981 and 1983 and an expectation that the government would order ammunition and spares for US supplied equipment.57 With the increased financial room for manoeuvre, as well as renewed international support, other acquisitions began, with six Carpentaria class inshore patrol craft procured from Australia in 1979–1980. These were small, lightly armed craft.58 They were followed by three Swift class coastal patrol craft from Singapore, which were also lightly armed but had a range of 1,800 nm. Burma itself built three 128 t patrol craft; the design being heavily influenced by that of the USN-­provided patrol gunboats of 20 years before. A planned fourth of class was not built.59 Then, between 1980 and 1982, Burma bought three Osprey class offshore patrol vessels from Denmark. These were the biggest of the acquisitions and were large enough and with sufficient endurance60 to restore some offshore capability. All formally operated under the People’s Pearl and Fishery Corporation, but effectively served as extensions of the Navy.61 They were not the same as properly equipped warships, however, and the fact remained, with the old frigate Mayu already disposed of, that the Burma Navy’s three major units were 1940s vintage vessels,62 with little operational life remaining.

30   Burma Rangoon continued to provide the operational and logistics support focus for the Navy and the Naval Training Centre was located at nearby Syriam. The fleet itself was assigned to regional commands at Sittwe, Bassein, Rangoon and Moulmein.63 Normally about one-­third of the force was dedicated to the ‘Strategic Naval Flotilla’ supporting Army counter-­ insurgency operations. This involved reconnaissance, fire support, landing troops and maintaining static defences around strategic towns.64 Thus, most major centres in the Irrawaddy delta had at least one armed landing craft assigned to them. The Navy still provided logistics support to the Army. In an underdeveloped country, moving stores by river and sea was often the most cost-­effective, if not the only practicable method. The Navy also maintained a modest underwater repair and combat capability, using both scuba and hard-­hat diving equipment. The diving school was located at Kyaukpyu on the Arakan coast, with the main diving tender, the Yan Lon Aung, operating as both a diving base and a floating workshop.65 Although the Navy struggled to maintain its technical standards, deliberately recruiting largely from the better educated urban areas, the manpower situation was not unfavourable. Military service was a desirable and respectable occupation, with pay and conditions better than in much of the civilian sector. Conditions of service included free medical and dental for serving personnel and their families, rations, accommodation and transport for relocation.66 Personnel enjoyed 30 days leave each year and retired on pensions of up to 75 per cent of active duty pay.

The 1980s – progress halted There was further deterioration in Burma’s economic circumstances through the 1980s, caused partly by doctrinaire policies and a lack of professional expertise. The armed forces remained badly undercapitalized and foreign assistance would have been needed for any significant improvement.67 In 1987 Burma formally became a ‘lesser developed country’ (LDC). Only the country’s natural riches and the thriving black market enabled most people to survive.68 As 1988 began, Burma faced severe problems and the government still did not control significant border areas. Student unrest had emerged in 1987 in response to the worsening economic situation.69 Matters worsened in early 1988 and agitation for an end to one-­party rule was violently suppressed.70 The appointment of a civilian head of government, Dr Maung Maung, saw troops return to their barracks and an outbreak of broadly based public opposition to government policies. This opposition was accompanied by unsuccessful and bloody attempts to establish an interim civilian government, which ended with the military coup of 18 September 1988.71 The coup established the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC)72 and, in 1989, the military discarded the ‘Burmese Road to Socialism’ and began to encourage foreign investment and a more market

Burma   31 73

oriented economic outlook. The SLORC also adjusted the military command structure, appointing Commanders-­in-Chief to each of the services and raising the Army Commander-­in-Chief position to full General rank. The incumbents of this position acted also as Deputy Commander-­ in-Chief of the Defence Services.74 The SLORC subsequently rejected the win by the opposition National League for Democracy (NLD) in the 1990 elections, and in April 1992 General Tan Shwe became Prime Minister, Chairman of the SLORC and Minister of Defence.75 Further repression ensued and the country’s problems were made worse by the imposition of international sanctions in 1988.76

The Navy in the early SLORC era At the time the SLORC took power, the Navy was still a force narrowly focused on coastal and riverine security operations.77 The service numbered about 8,000 personnel, having recovered from a drop to 7,000 earlier in the decade. Additionally, 250 men from the People’s Pearl and Fisheries Corporation crewed patrol craft. The reduced personnel numbers had resulted from paying off Mayu and the minesweeper Yan Myo Aung as well as a simple lack of money. Their replacements such as the Carpentaria and Osprey classes had much smaller crews,78 but, even so, few vessels carried full complements at all times. Despite many organizational changes and the passage of time, the Burma Navy still reflected its RN origins. The Navy rank structure and uniforms followed the British convention.79 Doctrine appeared to be largely based on that of previous eras of the RN, although it was also increasingly drawn from other countries and from Burmese operational experience. The lack of access to up-­to-date classified information from more sophisticated services meant that Burma’s practices would have been based on increasingly outmoded ideas, supplemented by the lessons gained from its own experience. This was not an issue for riverine operations, since the related doctrine would have been constantly renewed in the light of local experience. In the case of coastal and offshore operations, however, the Navy was less well placed. The handful of sea-­going ships was controlled by what was now designated as the Strategic Naval Command in the Ministry of Defence in Rangoon. The remainder of the fleet – the inshore and riverine vessels – was assigned by the Naval Vice Chief of Staff to three regional naval commands, each led by a captain. These were: •

Irrawaddy Naval Region, with Headquarters at Monkey Point in Rangoon. Most kinds of ship repair were possible at Rangoon and virtually all naval stores were located there. Other maintenance facilities were located at Seikkyi, near the mouth of the Rangoon River and at Sinmalaik, upstream from Monkey Point.80

32   Burma • •

Arakan Naval Region, with Headquarters at Sittwe. This region covered the coast from the Bangladesh border to the Irrawaddy delta. Tenasserim Naval Region with Headquarters at Moulmein.

Some naval units worked under the operational control of the nine Military Region Commanders, all of whom were still Army officers. There were other naval bases, functionally separate and each with a commander as commanding officer. These were at Yadanabon (in Rangoon), Bassein, Sittwe and Moulmein.81 The main training centre was in Syriam (now known as Thanlyin) a major port on the Rangoon (now Yangon) River. There were smaller naval facilities at Great Coco Island, and in the Mergui archipelago including Mali Island, Zadetkyi Island. Some may have been only sheltered anchorages.82 The Navy relied on the Burma Air Force for both fixed-­wing and helicopter maritime surveillance and other support. Sioux, Husky and Alouette helicopters occasionally embarked in the larger units, including the Ospreys and the survey ship. None of the helicopters was armed or fitted with sensors, although the Alouettes may have carried door-­mounted machine guns. Consequently only visual surveillance would have been possible over very limited ranges from the parent ships because of the rudimentary navigation aids available. Some fixed-­wing surveillance was provided by unarmed Fokker F-­27 or Fairchild-­Hiller FH-­227 aircraft83 which had basic surveillance equipment, including a weather radar and wing-­tip searchlight.

China’s growing influence There were other factors bringing Burma and its naval capabilities into the limelight. A key element was the increasing Chinese influence, particularly following international sanctions and arms embargoes imposed against Burma by the US and aligned countries after 1988.84 A closer relationship began with the visit of a SLORC delegation to Beijing in October 1989, to buy around US$1 billion of weapons.85 From this point, supported by Chinese equipment,86 the military (Tatmadaw) began to grow significantly. In 1993, China’s Foreign Minister advised that China would support Burma’s entry to ASEAN87 and the expansion of the country’s military from 300,000 to 400,000 personnel.88 Simultaneously, China revealed that it was building three roads from its border provinces through Burma to the Irrawaddy delta and in return, sought access to the Indian Ocean.89 Given that countries like the US, Japan, Australia and the European Union had cut off aid to the Burmese regime, this quid pro quo was attractive to the SLORC. Nevertheless, there was both speculation and concern as to the nature and extent of China’s military involvement in Burma. The concern was heightened by reports that China had helped build a signals intelligence

Burma   33 (SIGINT) station on Great Coco Island, along with some smaller maritime surveillance facilities along the Burmese coast.90 The latter programme gave Burma the beginnings of a comprehensive coastal surveillance capacity.91 Some of their neighbours were keenly following this and other capability improvements in Burma’s Navy. Thai naval officers expressed perhaps self-­serving concern, while India was more worried by the fact of Chinese involvement than Burmese gains as such.92 India feared the potential for the upgraded bases to support operations by the People’s Liberation Army-­Navy (PLA-­N) to secure its shipping routes from the Persian Gulf. India also suspected that the bases could support Chinese nuclear submarine operations targeting the Indian Navy.93 In the absence of definitive information, Chinese denials of military intent did little to allay such fears, although doubts remained as to how much Burma would accommodate Chinese requests for access to Burmese facilities.94 More specifically, few reports of Chinese presence or influence could be verified independently.95 What was clear was that, by 1993, China was dominating Burma economically and was its largest arms supplier – although Singapore contributed in both fields as well.96 Yet, the country was still suffering from ‘. . . a decaying infrastructure, a weak financial system incapable of mobilizing funds, inflation fed by shortages and fiscal deficits, an overvalued exchange rate, an inefficient and corrupt public sector, modest foreign investment flows and the withdrawal of foreign aid.’97 Despite the problems, and reflecting the nature of the regime – as well as the readiness of China to provide military assistance – defence spending almost doubled from 1990 to 1991 and rose significantly again in 1992.98 The Navy was a significant beneficiary. The potential for growing Chinese influence in Burma also led to a level of engagement with Burma by regional states that might otherwise not have occurred as the latter attempted to re balance the situation. By the end of the 1990s, Burma itself was attempting to cool its relationship with China, with a marked drop in cross-­border trade and failure to proceed with a scheme to open a trade route from Yunnan in China, through Burma along the Irrawaddy River to the Bay of Bengal. The scheme would have involved building a container port on the river near the Chinese border and would have provided China with a significant outlet to the Indian Ocean.99 Significantly, an explanation of the regime’s foreign policy and defence goals, published in 1999 as the Brief History of the Myanmar Army, stated that Burma had no security cooperation agreements with any country.100

Burma’s Navy under the SLORC By 1988, Burma’s Navy was barely able to perform its primary functions. The fleet remained a mix of obsolete, lightly armed and protected craft, with little offensive or defensive capability.101 As the SLORC consolidated

34   Burma its hold on power, however, the focus began to change102 and the Navy could seek a greater priority for funding. Maritime boundary claims were causing difficulties as a result of imprecise agreements and poorly demarcated boundaries. Furthermore, some of Burma’s maritime claims outran the 1982 LOSC, including a demand that foreign warships gain permission from Rangoon before entering the contiguous zone (out to 24 nm) and territorial sea (out to 12 nm).103 The internal problems had, furthermore, not gone away. Naval and air forces reportedly attacked villages in the Irrawaddy delta towards the end of 1991, to remove Karen insurgents, the first fighting in that area for 20 years.104 From 1991 the Navy began taking delivery of ‘Hainan’ class105 coastal patrol craft, Houxin class FAC, minesweepers and small gunboats from China – provided at ‘friendship’ prices.106,107 Even at such ‘friendship’ prices, China delivered some US$1.5 billion of arms to Burma from 1988 to the end of 1992.108 The ten Hainan class patrol boats were 59 m long, with a maximum speed of 30 knots.109 By Burmese standards they were relatively capable craft and would have created some technical challenges. Burma’s Navy had experience with mines and mine warfare and the loss of capability attending the paying off in 1982 of its escort minesweeper had been a blow.110 The introduction of the Hainan class patrol boats with a mining capability suggested a re-­introduction of some capacity. This was reinforced by reports of the possible purchase of two ocean minesweepers.111 The six new Houxin class missile-­armed fast attack craft were delivered in pairs in late 1995, mid-­1996 and late 1997 and were based at Monkey Point. They provided a substantial lift in combat power, with four C-­801 (Eagle Strike) surface-­to-surface missiles112 providing the Navy with its first anti-­ship missile capability.113 By late 1996 about 25 of the Eagle Strike missiles had been delivered and Chinese instructors were in country providing operator and maintainer training for them and the related systems.114 Three smaller and less capable PB 90 class patrol craft were acquired in December 1990. They were a Yugoslavian design, originally intended for an African country.115 More modern vessels also meant more complex sensors and weapons.116 Equipment of such comparative sophistication created a significant training load, much of it conducted overseas. Sourcing equipment from such a variety of countries also created support problems, especially in purchasing and maintaining different spares holdings and expanding training needs. In 1989 crews were sent to China for training on the Hainan class and lengthy training was also provided in China for the Houxins.117 Crews were sent to Yugoslavia in 1990 for training on the PB-­90 class and other personnel may have been sent to Pakistan for training in ‘submarine warfare’. It is not clear whether this training was related to future submarine operations or to anti-­submarine warfare. The lack of prior Burmese experience with complex systems, especially missiles, almost certainly

Burma   35 118

made the long-­term Chinese training presence essential. Similarly, Burmese naval operating doctrine may have begun to incorporate Yugoslav influence in addition to the earlier British and local influences. Chinese procedures would certainly have begun to permeate the service with so much of the force now being of Chinese origin.119 The Navy was changing fast. Local construction also added to the strength. An increasingly sophisticated production line clearly benefited from the Chinese connection and the first of an extended programme of 13 Myanmar class patrol boats began construction at the Central Naval Engineering Depot in Rangoon in 1991.120 After some delays, the first four entered service by 2000 and the remainder were reported to have been commissioned by 2008. The craft came in three batches, one of which included the fit of C-­802 anti-­ship missiles.121 The patrol boat programme was the precursor of a more ambitious effort. A key aim of the Navy upgrade was to enable more effective enforcement of Burma’s offshore territorial claims and resource zones.122 During the early 1990s the Swift and Carpentaria class patrol craft operated by the People’s Pearl and Fishery Board were absorbed into the Navy. The three Osprey class patrol boats remained with the Board but operated very much as naval vessels.123 The Navy now wanted to purchase new frigates to replace the long-­obsolete PCE-­827, Admirable and Nawarat class corvettes. The PCE-­827 and Admirable class ships had been retired in 1994 but kept in reserve for several years. The Nawarats had some armament removed in 1989 and were eventually decommissioned by 2000.124 The need for capable offshore vessels was emphasized by the growing illegal activities in Burma’s waters. About 1000 vessels were reported to be fishing illegally in Burma’s EEZ at any one time in 1995.125 By that year, there was the prospect of Burma securing up to three Jianghu Class frigates and two additional Hainan Class patrol craft from China. Acquisition of the Jianghu Class would have been significant for the genuine blue water capability and combat capability which these much larger ships could provide.126 Burma, however, was unable to afford frigates, even at ‘friendship’ prices and other prospective suppliers, such as Russia and Ukraine, insisted on hard currency payment, which was also unachievable.127 The compromise solution involved buying three smaller Chinese hulls and fitting them out in the Sinmalaik shipyard. The first of the class, Anawhrata, was commissioned in 2001 and the remaining pair followed in 2003 and 2005. The initial armament and sensor fit was minimal, the ships being armed with one 76 mm Oto Melara gun, which may have been made available by Italy, through a third party, and counter to the European Union (EU) arms embargo against Burma,128 and one twin 40 mm mounting. In later years, Chinese C-­802 anti-­ship missiles129 were fitted, together with electro-­optic fire control systems and other sensors, possibly from Israel. This was a protracted process but the

36   Burma Navy had much to learn in operating these larger (1,100 t) combatants and still very limited resources available. Even then, the corvettes were apparently accompanied by ten officers and 60 sailors of the PLA-­N to provide training to their Burmese counterparts.130 At the beginning of 1993, personnel strength was assessed as 12,000, including an 800 strong naval infantry force. The main bases were still at Bassein, Mergui, Moulmein, Seikyi, Rangoon131 (Monkey Point) and Sittwe.132 Improvements were appearing through a major infrastructure upgrade. The Navy built a new base on Hainggyi Island at the mouth of the Bassein River and improved the bases at Sittwe and Mergui.133 Indian concerns over Chinese involvement not only with naval facilities but in a reconnaissance facility on Great Coco Island were countered by Burmese claims that the base improvements were a response to an increased level of Thai fish poaching.134,135 Another report over a year later added some credence to the claims of Chinese interest in a surveillance facility on Great Coco Island.136 Opposition groups claimed construction of, or plans for, naval facilities at Heinze, Maungmakan, and Launglon Bok islands – all off Tavoy-­Kadan Island, Pyinzabu Island and Letsutaw Island in the Mergui archipelago and at Kawthaung on the Kra Isthmus.137 There were reports, too, of a major new base to be built, with Chinese help, at Heinle near Tavoy to allow for the transfer of the Mawyawaddy Naval Region Command from Moulmein. Although none of these activities was confirmed at the time, there did seem to be efforts to deepen access channels, improve dockside and navigational facilities, upgrade base accommodation and increase fuel storage.138

Burma’s Navy under the SPDC On 15 November 1997 the SLORC was replaced by the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC) with General Than Shwe as chairman. The SPDC was composed entirely of military officers and the bureaucracy was still dominated by serving and retired military personnel.139 For example, the Commanders-­in-Chief of the Navy and Air Force were appointed Deputy Prime Ministers. During 1997 Burma also became the ninth member of ASEAN. The period was one of consolidation for the Navy. Understandably, there had been problems in absorbing the new equipment. By 2000, reported personnel strength had reached 16,000 officers and sailors140 but, despite the increased numbers, Burma’s Navy experienced difficulty in crewing all of its new ships. Some of the new patrol craft proved to be unsuitable and there were continuing financial problems as well as maintenance issues.141 The Burmese military had also begun to attend to the need for joint operations and for the joint training that would make them possible – adding a degree of complexity to the operational requirement.

Burma   37 142

Exercises held in the mid-­1990s involved up to 30 ships. That they were taken seriously can be seen in the response to the poor performance of the Burma Navy in an exercise involving new Chinese-­supplied ships, leading to the removal of the Navy Chief, most likely Vice Admiral Than Nyunt.143 Yet the Navy was progressing in other respects. The number of regional commands had risen to five, consistent with expanded operational responsibilities. The new headquarters arrangements included the Ayeyarwady Naval Region Command at Rangoon, the Danyawady Naval Region Command at Sittwe, the Panmawady Naval Region Command at Hainggyi Island, the Mawrawady Naval Region Command at Moulmein and the Thaninthayi Naval Region Command at Mergui.144 Each of these regions was commanded by a Commodore, as was the Naval Shipyard Headquarters. Additionally, a Naval Training Command was established at Seikkyi.145 Whether or not it was acting in support of Burma’s claims, China continued to assist with infrastructure development. There were reports of a radar station installed by Chinese engineers on St. Luke’s Island (Zadetkale Island) at the southern tip of Taninthayi Division (formerly Tenasserim). The site was close to a sovereignty dispute between Burma and Thailand146 and work was said to have been completed in early 2001.147 Further reports in early 2003 indicated that China was committed to helping expand the Burmese naval signals intelligence facilities on Great Coco Island. Specifically, China provided assistance in the building of a new jetty on the island.148 The scope of operations expanded greatly under the leadership of Vice Admiral Kyi Min from 2001, with the new and more capable ships and patrol craft providing a limited blue water capacity for the first time in many years.149 The main reason for the improvement in naval capability remained the need to protect the resources of the EEZ. The government had long wanted to enforce its jurisdiction in the Andaman Sea and the Bay of Bengal, but had lacked the capacity. One new focus of operations would have been better protection of oil and gas infrastructure, on which the regime was banking for future economic growth.150 A secondary reason for the improvements in naval and general military capabilities was the regime’s need to retain the loyalty of military personnel, many of whom had been sympathetic to the aims of the pro-­democracy movement. There was justification for the interest in maritime zone protection. Border tensions with Thailand flared sporadically and led to exchanges of fire. In January 1997, Burma protested against two alleged intrusions of RTN ships, just one week after an RTN warship had clashed with two Burmese Hainan class patrol craft. The Thai warship had fired on a Burmese vessel chasing two Thai trawlers off Ranong. Three Burmese sailors were believed to have been killed in the incident and both the Thai trawlers were damaged.151 The dispute was related to three limestone outcrops in the Andaman Sea and was probably not helped by Burma’s use of

38   Burma British charts while Thailand relied on French ones.152 Subsequent discussions led to a ‘hot line’, joint patrols and the attachment of a Burmese Navy officer to the Thai-­Burma Border Fisheries Coordination Centre at Ranong.153 This situation supported the Burma Navy’s arguments that coastal surveillance, fisheries patrols and the protection of offshore resource platforms should have a higher priority.154 The possibility of higher intensity conflict was also contemplated. Regime fears of an attack by the US surfaced several times through the 1990s and caused a search for some air defence capabilities. There was associated speculation that, as a result, the new corvettes might incorporate an air defence capability.155 North Korea became a potential supplier of weapons to Burma’s Navy when talks apparently began in 2002 for the purchase of one or two Sang-­O class small coastal submarines.156 Negotiations were abandoned early in the following year, probably because of financial and technical difficulties.157 The connection was retained and in July 2003 there were reports of 15 to 20 North Korean technicians at the Monkey Point Naval Base in Rangoon.158 In this period there was an attempt to buy naval equipment from India, but the Bharatiya Janata Party government at the time rejected the approach. A subsequent visit to India in 2000 by General Maung Aye, however, led to better defence relationships.159 In due course, India did become a provider of military equipment to Burma, partly to counter the Chinese influence,160 attention not unwelcome to the Burmese regime. The first significant naval transfer was arranged in January 2006 and involved the provision of a number of Britten-­Norman BN-­2 Defender maritime surveillance aircraft (to be operated by the Air Force), some deck-­mounted air defence weapons and training programmes.161 The relationship with India received a further fillip with the despatch of Union of Myanmar Ship (UMS) Anawrahta to the Indian Navy sponsored multilateral Exercise Milan 2006 in the Andaman Islands on 11 January 2006. This was the first deployment to a multilateral exercise in more than 40 years.162 It was followed in 2010 by participation, with 12 other navies, in that year’s Exercise Milan.163 These activities reflected other changes. The Navy built on its experience with the three Anawrahta class corvettes to produce a much larger, missile armed frigate, the Aung Zeya, which ran trials in 2008. Although it was likely that the Burmese had received considerable technical assistance from China, this was a logical, albeit ambitious, step for the Navy and the core of a new capability for offshore operations.164 On 4 May 2008 Cyclone Nargis devastated large areas of South-­East Asia including Burma. Amongst Burma’s many casualties of that storm was the Navy, which reportedly lost up to 280 people, some 25 vessels and suffered damage to several bases.165 A significant opportunity for renewed international engagement and the tentative redevelopment of working links between navies was lost through Burma’s suspicions as to the motives of the international community. After 15 separate and unsuccessful attempts

Table 3.1  Burmese Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

Type

1952

1962*

1972*

1982*

1992*

2002*

2012*

1 1 2 2 3 3 3 4

Frigates MPA Corvettes Missile craft Torpedo craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Patrol craft/gunboats***

 1 – – – –  4  2 43

 1 – –** –  5  6  1 52

 1 –  2 –  5  6  1 58

– –  2 – –  5 (1) 84

–   2 (?)+ (2) – –  8 – 81

–   2 (?)+   1 (2)  4 – 10 – 81

 1   4 (?)+  3 10 – 21 – 70 (2)

Sources: Jane’s Fighting Ships; Combat Fleets of the World; Conway’s All the World’s Warships 1947–1982; The Military Balance. Notes Key: 2 = EFFECTIVE; (2) = INEFFECTIVE * Operational status difficult to determine with accuracy. ** Does not include Nawarat class vessels designated as corvettes but actually large river gunboats. *** Patrol craft/gunboat numbers estimates only. + Very basic capability only.

40   Burma to convince authorities of their intent, the USN task force which had been despatched to help departed without landing the bulk of its humanitarian aid. Apparently the military junta feared an American invasion.166

Conclusion: Burma’s Navy – the future Burma’s Navy has endured six difficult decades since independence. In 2012, it remains a relatively minor part of the military organization and still struggles to fund much needed capability improvement. Like several other South-­East Asian navies, it has had to, or has chosen to, source its equipment from several different countries, with all the logistic and other challenges this implies. In its early years the Navy primarily supported Army operations to counter the almost constant insurgencies. This gave its activities a very substantial riverine and coastal focus. More recently, the Navy has begun to pay greater attention to its offshore security responsibilities. Policing the EEZ and protecting oil, gas and fish stocks have become its primary work. It has improved its capacity to pursue these tasks with the introduction of some genuinely sea-­going corvettes. This renaissance since 1988 has given the Navy a much improved combat capability and restored a real if modest ocean-­going capability. But the naval expansion has been essentially limited. There is very little sea control capability in Burma’s Navy against any sophisticated opponent. It is now reasonably well equipped for surface warfare and some aspects of anti-­submarine warfare. It is still very weak in its air warfare capability and any new surface combatants will need equipment which addresses this issue. Predictably, the Navy, like several others in South-­East Asia, has manifested a desire to introduce submarines, although there has been no real progress since the 2003 decision to abandon efforts to purchase mini-­submarines from North Korea.167 Apparently the requirement for submarines remains, but Burma will find such ambitions challenging to fulfill. Improvements in naval infrastructure and associated command functions have seen critical maintenance and support functions decentralized.168 These improvements have been made possible by increased defence spending, but finance, technology and skilled manpower remain major hurdles. How capable the Navy is depends also on the quality of logistics support and maintenance, as well as the level and frequency of training available to crews. Burma’s penchant for avoiding relationships with other countries has limited the Navy’s capacity to learn from and to gauge its capabilities against those of others – and China is not necessarily the best guide. More fundamentally, there have been reports that the quality of the equipment itself has sometimes left much to be desired. For example, the propulsion systems of the Yugoslavian PB-­90 patrol boats and some Chinese equipment, including the Hainan class patrol boats, were said to have been substandard.169

Burma   41 Whatever its constraints, Burma’s Navy is now better situated than ever before for inshore and riverine policing and even for protecting its EEZ. The latter task continues to grow in importance with the threat to fishing stocks from foreign fishing fleets and with the economic importance of the offshore gas fields. The new frigate, corvettes and larger patrol boats permit more extensive offshore patrols. Furthermore, although the insurgencies have reduced in number and intensity, there are still tensions that require naval patrols, in southern waters, for example, to prevent insurgent resupply from Thailand.170 These significant improvements for the Navy have all occurred in a system in which the Army remains absolutely dominant. Despite Burma Navy senior officers having held some senior SLORC positions and now holding one position in the SPDC, there remains an element of tokenism.171 The Navy has endured mistrust from the Army, motivated primarily by the Navy’s strong British roots, the high proportion of Anglo-­Burmans and ethnic minorities in it and the exposure of many of its officers to overseas training.172 Such issues, the propensity for the Navy to attract better educated personnel and the participation of some naval officers and men in the 1988 pro-­democracy demonstrations have encouraged suspicion of the Navy’s political reliability.173 The Army’s misgivings would have been confirmed by the reaction to the abrupt dismissal in August 2000 of the Navy Commander-­in-Chief. The presumed reason was the poor performance of Chinese-­supplied ships in an exercise at which Chinese observers were present.174 The sacking sparked a strong protest from other naval officers, some of whom resigned and nearly 20 of whom were also dismissed. The dispute highlighted the Navy’s resentment at its treatment by the Army and provided evidence of strong tensions between naval personnel and those of the other services.175 Nevertheless, the Navy continues to do its job and that job has changed perceptibly in recent years. As the insurgencies have lost some of their force, the Navy has been able to focus more on coastal surveillance, illegal fishing operations and the protection of offshore resource platforms.176 What lies ahead is less clear. Thus far, the introverted nature of the regime and the concentration on internal security, have prevented the Navy from interacting with its neighbours to any appreciable extent. Consequently, it has not had the imperative to introduce the kinds of blue water forces now common among South-­East Asian navies. Whether it can sustain this path in the face of growing maritime capability on the part of its immediate neighbours remains to be seen. One key factor will be the developing relationship with China. That nation’s interest in the Indian Ocean has not dissipated. A Burma Navy survey conducted near the Andaman Islands was claimed by Indian sources to be a China sponsored operation to map the Andaman Sea and study the movement of big merchant ships.177 Continuing reports of Chinese involvement in bases and facilities in the Coco Islands generate

42   Burma great interest in India, whose Andaman Islands abut the Coco Islands. But Chinese influence in Burma may not be all that it seems. China has clearly provided substantial help to Burma’s Navy in its development of surveillance and other naval facilities and will probably continue to provide technical assistance. However, it is unlikely that this would ever result in a Burmese Navy that was anything other than an independent national force. This is recognized by others. The Indian Chief of Naval Staff stated publicly in 2005 that there was no major Chinese SIGINT station on Great Coco Island and that there were no Chinese naval bases in Burma.178 Access to Burmese ports and facilities by the PLA-­N will continue to be subject to agreement by the Burmese government of the day179 and the Burmese Navy will continue to develop very much to protect Burmese national interests. In recent times the pace of reform in Burma has quickened. While it is far too early to predict either the form of Burma’s government in the future or the extent to which the military will maintain its influence, the requirement for credible maritime forces continues to grow and it may be that the Navy will benefit most of all the Services from a more democratic, outward looking regime. There is a growing appreciation of the importance of the offshore domain and of the need to protect Burma’s rights and interests in it. The fleet has almost doubled in size within the last 20 years and further plans are already afoot to improve infrastructure and ocean surveillance capabilities.180 The region will await developments with great interest.

4 The Royal Cambodian Navy

Cambodia does not have the maritime focus or range of maritime interests of many other South-­East Asian countries. It has a sparsely inhabited coastline of only 435 km on the Gulf of Thailand and has two significant river systems: the Mekong and the Bassac, a tributary of the Mekong. There are 62 offshore islands – mostly close inshore – at least six of which are inhabited. Cambodia’s history, its fitful development and shortage of resources, as well as a natural preoccupation with threats from inland and internal sources, have tended to limit the capability and roles of the naval forces that it has maintained since independence. This remains the situation in 2012. Nevertheless, Cambodia does have some significant – and increasing – maritime interests and a need to focus more closely on its situation. Limited as Cambodia’s coastal waters are, the country’s maritime claims have long overlapped those of neighbouring Thailand and Vietnam and these overlaps have led to considerable friction,1 dating back well before the 1982 LOSC. While the best way ahead for Cambodia and its neighbours must be through negotiated settlements, Cambodia’s maritime forces need to be able to sustain a presence within both its extensive inland waterways and its offshore maritime zones if they are to meet the nation’s security needs. They are a long way from achieving this.

The beginnings of Cambodia’s Navy As the Second World War drew to a close the Japanese occupiers of Cambodia dissolved the French colonial administration and urged the country to declare independence.2 On 13 March 1945 the King of Cambodia, Sihanouk, did so, but he soon had to contend with France’s determination to recover Indo-­China. The period of independence for Cambodia, however welcome, lasted only seven months before the French returned.3 It was enough for the Cambodians to conduct elections and develop a constitution4 and force the French to accord Cambodia some autonomy. In the second half of 1945, with French concurrence, a Cambodian Army was formed, with the aim of countering increasing internal disorder

44   Cambodia and guerilla movements in the border areas.5 French advisers were placed in the Ministry of Defence and France retained overall responsibility for maintaining order. A further agreement in November 1946 established the organization of the Cambodian armed forces (Forces Armées Royales Khmères (FARK)), its missions being upholding the sovereignty of the king, preserving internal security and defending the country’s frontiers.6 In these years of partial independence, the focus remained on the Army and there was as yet no question of establishing a naval force. Nevertheless, in an increasingly complex situation and with France under great pressure in Vietnam, King Sihanouk sought both greater personal control over the country’s government and increased autonomy. Towards the end of 1949, the King agreed to a treaty with France which gave Cambodia control over most administrative functions and allowed the Cambodian armed forces limited freedom to act within a designated autonomous zone. France, however, still retained a large measure of control over foreign policy,7 the legal system, finances and customs.8 In particular, it also retained control of military operations outside the auto­ nomous zone. Despite this progress, elements within the country still sought full independence. Furthermore, although the US and other Western states gave diplomatic recognition to Cambodia in 1950, only Thailand among its neighbours did so. Then in June 1952, as the strategic situation in Indo-­ China continued to deteriorate, the King dismissed his cabinet, suspended the constitution and took control of the government as prime minister. Sihanouk had become increasingly concerned about the mood within the country. His government was thought to control no more than one-­third of it, because of the activities of guerrilla groups. Later he dissolved the National Assembly and proclaimed martial law in January 1953.9,10 After some effort, and with much of Indo-­China confronting Communist insurgent activity, Sihanouk convinced the French to grant full independence to Cambodia on 3 July 1953.11 French acquiescence to Cambodian independence reflected the tenuousness of their hold on Indo-­China. The end of French dominion, though not wholly of their influence, came the following year with the Geneva Conference and the independence of the former colonies. Amongst the consequences of Cambodia’s transition to full sovereignty was the requirement to organize the maritime defences that had hitherto been provided by France. The Marine Royale Khmer (Royal Cambodian Navy) (MRK) was established on 1 March 1954. At the outset the Navy was a small force of 1,200 people, together with a marine corps of about 150. The ‘fleet’ comprised a mix of patrol craft and amphibious craft, several having been transferred from the USN to the French before finding their way to Cambodia’s Navy.12 The mainstays of the force were two ex-­USN 325 t patrol craft (submarine chasers in USN service) and an ex-­USN infantry landing ship of 230 t, together with two tank landing craft.13 There

Cambodia   45 were also 46 smaller medium and vehicle/personnel landing craft (LCM and LCVP), as well as 13 other patrol craft and auxiliaries. The first Chief of Naval Operations was Commander (Capitaine de Frégate) Pierre Coedés, seconded from France. Formation of the MRK was part of a wider expansion of Cambodia’s military, one justified by the increasing threat. By March 1954, conscription had been introduced as part of the effort to counter insurgent attacks being launched from Vietnam. But Cambodia was not without friends. France continued to provide support and the US and Cambodia signed an agreement providing for security assistance and the establishment of a 30-person Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG). While Cambodia formally adopted a neutral foreign policy at about this time, the vacillating policies of King Sihanouk ensured that the military did not develop as an effective organization.14 Although France and the US continued to provide what support they could, he was suspicious as to their motives, believing that the Americans, Thais and South Vietnamese were assisting at least one insurgency movement.15 Developing nepotism associated with the King’s personal rule16 also limited many initiatives and progressively discredited the government. The Navy itself did not get much beyond a riverine and inshore capability. This was understandable, given continuing internal security problems and the developing war in Vietnam, but it did mean that Cambodia was not well positioned to stand up to its neighbours in squabbles over territorial sea claims. The main change to the force structure in the early years was the addition in the late 1950s of two LCU and three seaward patrol craft. Like the earlier vessels, the LCU had served in the USN before transfer to the French Navy and ultimately to Cambodia. The seaward patrol craft had been transferred from the Royal Navy to France in 1944 before they too were handed over to Cambodia.17 Other significant force structure changes included the acquisition of a motor gunboat (PGM 70 type) under the US military aid programme in 1964 and two torpedo boats presented by Yugoslavia in 1965. These served as inshore patrol vessels.18 Additionally, the number of utility landing craft doubled to four with the transfer of two more from the US in May 1962. By the end of its first decade of operations the Cambodian Navy was a fairly eclectic collection of coastal and inshore patrol and landing craft, useful enough in the waterways of the country. With one or two exceptions, however, the fleet comprised vessels that would soon need replacement and the force was also still very limited in its combat power, with no real anti-­submarine or air warfare capacity, let alone much ability to operate offshore. That the need to do so was increasing was demonstrated by Cambodia’s declaration of its territorial waters in 1964 as being five nautical miles with a contiguous zone of a further seven miles. Any likelihood of the Navy achieving the required capability advances soon disappeared. Border incursions by both North and South Vietnamese

46   Cambodia forces in the late 1950s caused Sihanouk to establish relations with China and move further away from the US. The assistance programme was discontinued in 1963 at Cambodian request and eventually, in 1965, Sihanouk severed relations outright with the US.19 The French training mission was to remain in Cambodia until 1971,20 but it had neither the numbers nor the funding to progress further development of the Navy. The best that the French could do was support operations at their existing levels and continue to train a cadre of national personnel. The French head of service, Captain Pierre Coedés, was replaced in the late 1960s by the Cambodian Lieutenant General Nhiek Tioulong. In 1970 a naval officer, Commander Vong Sarendy, took over with the title of Chief of Staff of the MRK.21 He was soon promoted Commodore.22 The new friend, China, could not be much help with the force structure. It did provide three inshore patrol craft in January 196823 but, before the end of the decade, deletions had started, notably the two tank landing craft and two of the three seaward patrol craft.24 By 1970 there was evidence of further decommissionings. The 13 medium landing craft and 39 vehicle and personnel landing craft, as well as ten smaller patrol and auxiliary vessels, were listed as withdrawn from service.25 While they may all have been paid off simultaneously, or nearly so, it is more likely that they were withdrawn over a protracted period but not reported as such. In any event, the numerical strength of the fleet declined from 69 to 16 relatively quickly. By 1970, the MRK was clearly not in good shape and in no condition to operate effectively, even on the internal waterways. The Navy’s increasingly parlous condition mirrored that of the nation as a whole. As the second Indo-­China War intensified, Sihanouk allied himself secretly with North Vietnam26 and granted it access to the port of Sihanoukville, which became a major conduit of supplies from China and the Soviet Union.27 He did this in the belief that North Vietnam would eventually win and that this would help keep Cambodia out of the war. But the terms of the agreement allowed North Vietnamese troops to enter Cambodia, something which Sihanouk could neither publicly acknowledge nor prevent becoming public knowledge. Internally, in early 1968 the organization that was to became known as the Khmer Rouge began insurgent operations against the Cambodian government, but with little early success or popular support. Other security problems continued to grow. In 1969 the US began bombing North Vietnamese and Viet Cong targets in Cambodian territory, driving troops of both groups deeper into Cambodia.28 This brought them into greater conflict with Cambodian military forces and led Sihanouk to deny the port of Sihanoukville to North Vietnam. In fact, in June 1969 the King declared that Cambodia and North Vietnam were at war. After leaving the country for medical treatment in January 1970, Sihanouk was overthrown by the Prime Minister, Lon Nol, supported by the military29 and the National Assembly.30 His overthrow was, in the end,

Cambodia   47 the result of economic destabilization caused by the Vietnam War.31 An early outcome of the coup was the massacre of unarmed Vietnamese civilians near Phnom Penh and a directive (which was ignored) that all Vietnamese Communist forces leave the country.32 Many Cambodians were killed in the ensuing fighting and it took a joint US–South Vietnamese operation to move the North Vietnamese away to the west. This operation probably spelled the effective end of Cambodia, at least for the time, as a sovereign state.33 After becoming the Khmer Republic in October 1970, Cambodia survived for the next four unhappy years, mainly through US military and economic assistance and bombing.34 The Navy itself was designated the Marine National Khmer (MNK) on 9 October 1970.35 The Americans did what they could to rebuild Cambodian maritime capacity. Six Swift class coastal patrol craft were transferred in 1972.36 At this point, the MNK comprised vessels primarily of US origin, with a small number from Yugoslavia and China. In the following years other significant transfers were also made by the US. They included more Swift class patrol craft, bringing the total to 20, and 65 ex-­US PBR Mk I and II patrol craft. Both classes were small inshore and riverine patrol craft and were lightly armed.37 Their transfer reflected the reality that the bulk of the MNK’s work was to maintain what levels of security it could on the internal waterways and on the coast. Offshore operations remained beyond the Navy’s capacity. By the end of 1972 the Khmer Republic controlled Phnom Penh and not much else of the country and the Communists were gaining strength. Heavy bombing by the US in 1973 delayed but did not prevent the fall of Cambodia to the Khmer Rouge. The subsequent takeover was bloody indeed, ending in early 1975 when the Khmer Rouge mined the riverine approaches to Phnom Penh and prevented rice and ammunition from reaching the city.38 On 17 April 1975 Communist troops entered the almost empty Cambodian capital – just two weeks before their counterparts overran Saigon.39

The period of the Khmer Rouge With the takeover of Cambodia by the Khmer Rouge, information as to the state of the Navy (and many other things) became virtually impossible to get. At the time of the takeover, one patrol craft escaped to Thailand, while a second and two light infantry landing craft went to the Philippines.40 The remaining small craft were taken over by the new government. Cambodia’s naval capabilities soon came into new prominence with the ‘Mayaguez incident’. On 12 May 1975 the SS Mayaguez, which was supporting US forces in South-­East Asia, was sailing in a regular shipping lane about 60 miles off the Cambodian coast, but only about eight miles from Poulo Wai (Kao Wai), an island claimed by Cambodia, Thailand and Vietnam.41 Without warning, a group of Swift class patrol craft approached from Poulo Wai and fired shots across the bow of the Mayaguez before

48   Cambodia taking control of the ship. The Swift boats had just fallen into Khmer Rouge hands and had already interfered similarly with South Korean, Panamanian and South Vietnamese shipping.42 US forces subsequently recaptured the ship (after losing 18 servicemen and several helicopters in a poorly coordinated operation) and the 39 man crew was released unharmed.43 Cambodia’s Navy lost two boats, sunk by US aircraft – in one case after refusing to respond to warning fire from the air.44 There is some conjecture whether the two Cambodian patrol craft concerned were Swift boats or the larger Yugoslavian Type 101s,45 but the result of the intervention was certainly to force the rump of the Cambodian Navy back into the waterways and estuaries and its active numbers rapidly diminished.46

Ruin and reconstitution The Communist regime in Cambodia lasted from April 1975 until January 1979 and fomented a bloodthirsty repression.47 Early indications of what the revolution would bring came in the Revolutionary Army of Kampuchea’s almost immediate execution of former Cambodian Armed Forces officers and their families and in the mass forced evacuations of cities and towns.48 This, of course, effectively removed whatever expertise remained to support naval operations. Even before the takeover there had been clashes between the Khmer Rouge and North Vietnamese forces near the border and they began again later in 1975, continuing after failed border negotiations.49 Some of the disputes involved maritime boundaries, notably the island of Phu Quoc, which the Hanoi government accused the Khmer Rouge of trying to seize. More may have come of these offshore issues if Cambodia had any real maritime capability. But, apart from the losses in the Mayaguez incident,50 the devastation wreaked amongst Cambodia’s small population of experienced and technically qualified personnel made the remaining force largely moribund. Meanwhile, conflict along the land border escalated, to the level of pitched battles by the second half of 1978 and with the emergence of a Vietnamese-­backed force opposing and calling for the ousting of the China-­supported Khmer Rouge.51 On 25 December 1978, Vietnam invaded Cambodia with a force of around 100,000 troops, a proportion of whom were dissident Cambodians. Phnom Penh fell to the Vietnamese forces on 7 January 1979 but fighting continued on the Thai border until April, with the fallen government and other groups spawning anti-­Vietnam insurgent movements.52 These insurgents remained active throughout the 1980s, generating continuing instability in the country. Hun Sen, who had fled to Vietnam in 1977, emerged as the Premier of the Vietnam-­backed People’s Republic of Kampuchea in 1985. He has remained in control of Cambodia for all but two years since.53

Cambodia   49 At first, most Cambodians welcomed the Vietnamese – or at least the removal of the Khmer Rouge. Yet insurgency continued, involving three main groups which were seriously fractious in their relationships with each other.54 By the late 1980s a stalemate had developed, with the rebels lacking the capacity to eject the Vietnamese occupying force and the combined Vietnamese and Cambodian forces incapable of eliminating the guerrillas.55 The most effective of the insurgent groups was that related to the Khmer Rouge, which continued to rely on China for material and other support.56 As this insurgency continued there were fears that, if aid from China were prevented from entering Cambodia across land borders, it would be landed along Cambodia’s irregular and unprotected coastline. This created a requirement for the revival of some form of maritime security capability from the ruins of the MNK. During this period the Kampuchean People’s Revolutionary Armed Forces (KPRAF ) were responsible to the Minister of National Defence and the General Staff, headed by a Chief of the General Staff supported by four deputies.57 This General Staff exercised control over the three components of the Armed Forces, ground, air and the coastal and riverine naval force. Predictably, the Army was by far the dominant service, the other two services being relatively newly formed, weak numerically and lacking both infrastructure and technical skills. The military organizational structure was paralleled by a superimposed political party network which extended downwards to units at all levels58 and probably did little for military efficiency. The missions of the KPRAF included defending the nation from foreign aggression, safeguarding the gains of the Marxist revolution in Cambodia and ensuring domestic security against insurgents and other domestic foes.59 Its military doctrine was based on the total mobilization of the population, with compulsory service for males between the ages of 18 and 35,60 and total dedication of national resources to meet military objectives. This lent itself to a very wide definition of ‘military objectives’. As has been the case with the armed forces of several South-­East Asian states, the KPRAF suffered from budget shortfalls and had to rely on other ways of generating income – predominantly by involvement in primary industry. For the first few years, the Navy remained a small force with responsibility for patrolling the Tonle Sap (Great Lake) and the associated river, the Tonle Sab, as well as coastal areas designated as Naval Zone Five. Within limits and as some expertise was slowly regained, some rebuilding of naval capability was eventually attempted, largely with Soviet aid. Many of the long serving craft were removed from service in this period, including most of the Swift and PBR class and the three Chinese Yulin class small patrol craft. Fleet additions in lieu included two ex-­Soviet Turya class hydrofoil fast attack craft, four ex-­Soviet Stenka class fast attack craft and four ex-­Soviet Shmel class river patrol craft. The Turyas were delivered in 1984 and 1985, along with two of the Stenkas. The remaining Stenkas arrived in 1986,61 while four T4 class LCVP were delivered in January 1985.62

50   Cambodia The Turyas and Stenkas provided the Cambodian Navy with its first real offshore maritime combat capability in many years – albeit a limited one. The Turyas were armed with two aft-­mounted 57 mm and two 25 mm guns,63 while the Stenkas were armed with four 30 mm guns and had a similar radar and fire control suite to the Turyas. Both types were designed to take torpedo tubes and sonars, but the export variants provided to Cambodia had neither system.64 At least one maritime issue was settled during this period of Cambodian­Vietnamese rapprochement. On 7 July 1982, the governments signed an Agreement on Historic Waters of Vietnam and Kampuchea on an area of disputed sea reaching as much as 60 nm offshore. It included commitments to future joint surveillance and patrolling and for a continuation of local fishing activities and the exploitation of natural resources through ‘common agreement’.65 Several states, including Thailand and the US protested the validity of the settlement, but it at least provided a solution for the contending parties over the offshore islands in the Gulf of Thailand. The Poulo Wei islands came under Cambodian jurisdiction and Phu Quoc and the Poulo Panjang islands went to Vietnam.66 By contrast, maritime relations with Thailand remained testy, at best. At the end of 1981, Thai Navy vessels sank a Cambodian gunboat (a converted wooden fishing vessel) and killed eight crew in an area adjoining the Cambodian border with Thailand. Thailand disputed the Cambodian claim that the gunboat was in Cambodian waters.67 Cambodia was in no position to respond to the much more capable Thai presence and had to accept the sinking as a fait accompli.

Into the 1990s By September 1989, Vietnam was withdrawing the last of its troops from Cambodia, largely because the crisis overtaking the Soviet Union had reduced aid to Vietnam and thus its capacity for action.68 The embattled Cambodian government, however, was unable to make up for the loss of economic support associated with the political changes occurring in Eastern Europe and consequently great hope for the country’s future was placed in the United Nations (UN) sponsored Paris Conference of October 1991.69 From this conference emerged an all-­faction temporary Cambodian government headed by the apparently irrepressible Sihanouk. Subsequently, the UN established a multinational protectorate over Cambodia to enable disarmament of factional troops, repatriation of refugees from Thailand and the holding of national elections. Unfortunately, the UN Transitional Authority in Cambodia was slow to establish itself and some factions refused to disarm and be monitored by the UN force.70 National elections resulted in Hun Sen insisting that his Cambodian ­People’s Party form a coalition with the winning party, Prince Norodom Rannaridh’s National United Front for an Independent, Neutral, Peaceful

Cambodia   51 and Cooperative Cambodia (FUNCINPEC). Sihanouk once again became King of Cambodia and the Khmer Rouge was formally outlawed. One important outcome of the political settlement was the establishment of a legitimate national armed force, the Royal Cambodian Armed Forces (RCAF ).71 Yet in the early 1990s Cambodia still had very little interest in things maritime, with its major focus being transition from UN control to its independent status as the Kingdom of Cambodia. By now the Navy had decayed again. It reached a new low point in terms of fleet and personnel strength – the latter had shrunk to about 1,000 at the beginning of the decade.72 The Turya class attack craft were said to have deteriorated to the extent that they were used largely as floating barracks, although they remained available for river operations.73 The UN Transitional Authority did what it could to rebuild the force. It helped provide large numbers of small craft and restored ‘the riverine navy to some semblance of operational effectiveness’. Several of the larger Soviet origin craft were brought back into service. With the benefit of maintenance and logistic support from the foreign forces in country, all the operational vessels were put into the white UN livery and employed on patrol work by the Authority. They reverted to their original colours at the end of 1993 after the departure of the UN.74 But this effort was not enough. By the mid-­1990s one of the Stenkas was being used for spares, while only the remaining three vessels appeared operational. The four Shmels remained in service for a time, although they were reported as being in poor condition by 1993 – and no longer operational by 1996. By contrast, the two Zhuk class river patrol craft were serviceable and heavily used. In all, the little force was in a parlous state and this represented an increasing problem for Cambodia, which faced significant maritime challenges in the form of illegal fishing as well as continuing boundary disputes. The country had become a transit point for drug and people trafficking, kidnapping and money laundering. At the time, the Minister for Finance assessed that Cambodia was losing between US$10 million and US$15 million per year to illegal fishing.75 It was probably much more. Cambodia still faced overlapping maritime claims with both Thailand and Vietnam76 and its limited capacity to deal with their challenges was highlighted by the obvious inability of the Navy to control the nation’s maritime borders.77 The availability of some foreign aid brought about a limited renaissance. As part of Australia’s Defence Cooperation Program (DCP) the Royal Australian Navy provided six technical personnel to establish an engineering and electrical workshop at the Cambodian Navy’s Ream base in 1996. The workshop was to be jointly manned for a period and operate as both a training and maintenance facility.78 At the same time, two of the Stenkas were modernized in the Hong Leong Shipyard in Malaysia. This work included new Caterpillar diesel engines, guns and radar.79 A

52   Cambodia contemporary report suggested that the modernization also included downgrading of some operational capabilities, to make the vessels more suitable for coastal patrol.80 What is more to the point is that any ‘downgrading’ reflected Cambodia’s inability to operate and maintain sophisticated equipment and the need for the little service to focus on patrol, surveillance and response. The Stenkas were returned to Cambodian service in April 1996.81 Personnel numbers began to recover, increasing to 2,800 (including marines). Of this number, 781 were reported to be officers.82 Cambodia also ordered two 23 m Kaoh class river patrol boats in 1995. These were built to a German design by Hong Leong.83 Formal handover took place on 17 January 1997, in the presence of Cambodian Navy Commander Rear Admiral Ung Kim Khan and the boats remained in Malaysia for two weeks work-­up training with the Royal Malaysian Navy before their delivery voyage.84 Undoubtedly, the Cambodian Navy had difficulty in supporting its various patrol craft, because of personnel and skills shortages and because of spares supply problems – as well as a continuing lack of money. In fact, Captain Oum Sang Onn (one of the three Deputy Chiefs of Naval Staff ) noted in 1996 that it would take a decade of building technical and professional skills before the Cambodian Navy could take on traditional naval tasks.85 Until then it would continue to focus on guarding against economic threats to the country. Captain Oum indicated that his Navy’s four immediate tasks were: counter-­insurgency operations, reorganization and retraining, maintaining serviceability, and aiding national reconstruction.86 In early 1997 only eight of the Cambodian Navy’s 14 patrol craft and four of 17 Soviet-­supplied river patrol craft were operational.87 Fleet strength reached its nadir at the turn of the century with the removal from service of all but two of the Stenka fast patrol craft and the two Kaoh class river patrol craft.88 Personnel strength, however, did not seem to have been affected by the substantial reduction in vessel numbers and the status of the Navy Commander was raised with the appointment of Vice Admiral Ung San Khann.89 National politics were far from settled, yet, despite some violent interludes, Hun Sen and Rannaridh remained in uneasy coalition after the 1998 election. Cambodian authorities at this time (around 1998) appreciated the need to modernize each of the military services. Equally they recognized the impossibility of doing so in the existing budgetary situation. In an interview with the Asian Defence Journal, General Tea Banh, the Minister for National Defence, even admitted that the defence budget would be reduced by about US$1 million and that priority would be given to creating a professional army, with its associated training and education needs.90 General Tea noted the difficulties of achieving even that modest objective while simultaneously demobilizing thousands of soldiers. The

Cambodia   53 extent of these difficulties was highlighted in a later report indicating that the 1997–1998 defence budget was only US$83 million and that the Ministry could not afford to pay its personnel in June or July 1998.91 Matters were not helped by the proliferation of other small and under-­ resourced maritime agencies within the government. The first was the National Maritime Police, sometimes referred to as a Coast Guard and controlled by the Border Police, within the Ministry of the Interior. Based at Sihanoukville, the Police possessed a few small patrol craft.92 Their major priorities were countering drug and other smuggling activities in the coastal zone and offshore islands, while they were also responsible for coastal environmental protection, prevention and prosecution of illegal logging, pollution control, search and rescue, disaster relief and community support.93 There was, however, little maritime expertise within the Interior Ministry to guide the development or operational employment of the Marine Police and it suffered the same problems as the Navy, with inadequately trained staff and insufficient surveillance resources. Those deficiencies were also shared by the Department of Fisheries,94 which had among its responsibilities the conduct of surveillance and enforcement of Cambodia’s fisheries laws, including the prevention and prosecution of illegal fishing. The Department set up a fisheries inspection unit in Sihanoukville and eventually assembled three vessels: two steel-­hulled converted trawlers and one wooden-­hulled converted fishing boat. Despite the unit’s clear limitations, it did conduct regular patrols and apparently secured significant fines against those engaged in illegal activities. Its patrol craft were, however, unsuited for operations offshore in the exclusive economic zone and were certainly incapable of standing up to Thai or Vietnamese forces in the event of a dispute. The material state of the Navy and the corruption within it (and throughout the country) demanded a major reform and training programme as a precursor to equipment upgrades. This was acknowledged by the Cambodian military authorities, who in the beginning of 1999 indicated that Navy personnel would be given ‘every opportunity to gain technical and other skills, including the English language’.95 Several countries had offered support, including Iran, whose gesture was treated with some circumspection because of the potential impact acceptance could have had on other possible donors.96 In fact several potential donors, including Australia, France, Indonesia and the US were demanding military reform as a condition of any substantial defence aid. Both reform and the much-­ needed aid were hamstrung in part by a continuing political deadlock between the royalist FUNCINPEC party and Hun Sen’s Cambodian ­People’s Party.97 Despite its internal problems, Cambodia made some efforts to resolve its maritime disputes and began to negotiate new boundaries with Thailand in the early 1990s. While Thailand apparently pressed for delimitation of boundaries, Cambodia consistently favoured the joint development

54   Cambodia approach.98 The need for settlement was increasingly urgent as more pressure came on the fisheries grounds. In 1996, for example, there was a report that more than ten Thai fishing craft were intruding into Cambodian waters each day and that the two Stenka class patrol boats had been fitted with more powerful engines specifically to enable them to conduct more effective sea boundary enforcement.99 Some progress was noted in 1998 when Prime Minister Hun Sen secured a controversial agreement with Thailand. He then urged that there be no further offshore resource exploration operations by Thailand and Vietnam until Cambodia and Vietnam also reached a boundary agreement. The Thais were apparently happy to host a tripartite meeting to help resolve the matter.100 In a related development the Cambodian and Thai Navies agreed to begin joint patrols of ‘common territorial waters’ to deal with maritime crimes and intrusions.101 Thai authorities hailed the agreement, following several previously unsuccessful attempts, but noted that Cambodia still declined to agree to demarcate the territorial waters.102 However, an MOU was finally signed with Thailand in 2001 and this was seen by both countries as a significant achievement, allowing as it did for joint development of resources in the most promising areas.

Into the twenty-­first century A little progress was made inside Cambodia. The higher level command structure was significantly revised in 1999 with the arrival of the Second Term Government, which included only one Prime Minister who relinquished his title as Commander-­in-Chief of the Armed Forces. The Ministry also adjusted its structure, introducing three General Departments, each controlling subordinate Departments, and retaining control over logistics and finance.103 The General Staff was completely dismantled at this time and all three services came under the direct command of the C-­in-C of the Armed Forces, with a new Joint Staff responsible for coordination among the services. The Chief of the Joint Staff was also a Deputy C-­in-C of the Armed Forces, overseeing all staff within the High Command Headquarters and automatically becoming Acting Commander in the absence of the C-­in-C.104 At the operational level, command was devolved to the Military Regions, which would be responsible for operations and for national development tasks, as well as developing effective links with local communities. One aspect of reform championed by Australia was the development of policy documents which would encourage intellectual rigour in the process of establishing security interests and priorities. The result was the release of Defence White Papers in 2000 and 2006 and a Strategic Review in 2002. While acknowledging Cambodia’s military weaknesses and calling for the demobilization of some 55,000 troops, the 2000 White Paper, Defending the Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, laid out key military objectives for succeeding years. For

Cambodia   55 the Navy these included ‘protecting the nation’s borders against transnational crimes such as the unauthorized movement of people, drugs, criminal activity, firearms and other goods that may be detrimental to national security’.105 The White Paper admitted that Cambodia was currently unable to assure the security of its borders and noted that the Cambodian Navy could not guarantee a completely effective response against terrorism, because of the state of its resources and technology.106 A key Navy objective was the gradual development of an enhanced capacity to protect Cambodia’s interests in surrounding maritime areas. This would involve either refurbishment of existing patrol craft or acquisition of new ones for patrol and transport.107 Offshore patrols would be added once these initial steps had been taken and they would also be supplemented by coastal surveillance radar as well as improved cooperation with neighbours.108 The 2000 White Paper also admitted that the Cambodian Armed Forces were incapable of joining any international military exercises or of providing forces for any UN peacekeeping operation.109 Foreign financial assistance was certainly needed for any significant re-­equipment of Cambodia’s armed forces. Defence was still taking up some 40 per cent of government spending, but this was largely to support the army of 100,000, which included some 500 generals.110 At least Cambodia was at peace; it had been admitted to ASEAN and in the first five years of the new century the economy was to grow strongly. China offered a broad range of assistance for Cambodia’s national development. Specific military help included provision of training in strategic, tactical, technical and medical fields.111 Australia was active on a similarly broad front and through its DCP offered assistance in professional military education and training, English language training and military medical assistance. Subsequently, the Strategic Review 2002 emphasized strongly the need for additional foreign support – especially military assistance. The Review also went on to point out that in the prevailing economic climate the Ministry of Defense needed to allocate funds for the maintenance of major assets such as naval vessels,112 particularly to enable more effective patrolling of national waters.113 It had a point – the 2002 defence budget was reported to be US$100 million, but much of it was spent in an uncontrolled and unplanned way.114 Cambodian hopes for the source of the solution to their funding versus capability conundrum were emphasized by the Review’s record of offers of military assistance from India, France, Thailand, Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, Singapore, Vietnam, South Korea, Australia and the US.115 Most, however, related to training and infrastructure development, rather than to combat capability. The absence of major procurement activity since the mid-­1990s was adding to difficulties with availability. By 2004 the sea-­going elements of the Navy were virtually non-­operational, although some riverine missions were still conducted.116 The activities covered by these operations included

56   Cambodia smuggling, piracy and illegal immigration, but there were suspicions that the Navy itself was involved in smuggling, especially of drugs.117 The poor condition of the Navy was now a major concern for the government because the country had no way of maintaining sovereignty over territorial waters or of maintaining its claims over disputed maritime zones. Similarly Cambodia was unable to prevent the plundering of its fish stocks by foreign (primarily Vietnamese) fishing vessels or the smuggling of drugs and other goods. In mid-­decade, naval modernization was thus beginning to have a higher priority, with acknowledged needs for more gun-­armed patrol craft and the refitting of existing vessels to enable them to meet current piracy and terrorist threats, but there was a very long way to go. Maintenance remained constrained both by a lack of funds and shortages of skilled personnel. The only slipway was in Sihanoukville and, while the funding needed for the most basic repairs had been assessed as a modest US$0.37 million per year, it simply had not been available.118 In the absence of any real funding from the government, the main naval base even had to run its own farm to supply fresh food. The need for better maritime security capabilities was pressing. Offshore oil exploration had begun in 2000, dominated by the US firm Chevron-­Texaco. By 2006 significant finds had been announced. Estimates at the time suggested that Cambodia would be generating revenue of about US$1 billion by about 2010 from offshore oil and gas.119 The potential value of this revenue to the struggling economy underscored the need to protect the offshore platforms and pipelines, something that Cambodia would be hard-­pressed to do. The Navy’s shopping list included provision of a training school, base library, pier, water systems for offshore islands, medical facilities, development of its personnel and patrol boat maintenance.120 Given Cambodia’s problems, it was inevitable that assistance would have to come from outside, and it came from China. Six patrol craft were transferred, to the Cambodian Marine Police, on 9 January 2005.121 They were possibly Shanghai III class gun-­armed patrol boats122 and were most likely to be operated by the Navy on behalf of the Police.123 A further seven patrol craft and a landing craft were delivered to the Navy in November 2007. They are said to include four 46 m and three 20 m craft.124 A 60 m floating dock was also reported to be in the package.125 The Chinese contribution, valued at US$60 million, had been initiated in 2004 through a preferential loan which ‘embodied the traditional friendship and deep feeling between the two countries and peoples’.126 Additionally, and probably as an attempt to balance Chinese influence, Vietnam provided two patrol craft to the Cambodian Navy on 11 January 2006.127 Indicative of change in the international environment, the USN conducted a low-­level exercise with the Cambodian Navy in September 2005. The exercise, Fusion Canoe 05–2, provided Cambodian naval personnel with training in equipment and weapons maintenance and represented

Cambodia   57 the first non-­humanitarian contact between the US military and Cambodian Armed Forces in 30 years.128 Such training would have to be maintained over the long term to make a significant difference to the state of the Cambodian Navy. Australian and Chinese Navy ships also began visiting Cambodia. The Australian Townsville spent four days in Sihanoukville in April 2006, while the Chinese Navy ship Zhenghe129 had nine days in the port in November 2006 on what was the first ever visit to Cambodia by China’s Navy.130

Into the future: the challenge remains In 2006, the Cambodian Navy was headed by a Rear Admiral (Maritime Commander), supported by a Deputy Commander (Commodore) and a Deputy Chief of Staff (Commander). It possessed 11 ostensibly ‘operational’ units which included five Island Protection Units, a Fast Patrol Boat Unit, Coastal Patrol Boat Unit, Artillery Coast Protection Unit and a Radar Unit. There were also workshops and a security guard amounting to one company of troops.131 A growing appreciation of the need for greater maritime security cap­ ability in Cambodia was emerging, although it had yet to be backed with hard cash. The 2006 White Paper dealt with maritime security more expansively than either of the earlier planning documents. While the White Paper admitted that funding shortfalls had meant that there were continuing problems in supporting ageing equipment it did also allocate a high priority to the restoration of military equipment ‘especially naval vessels’.132 It identified the ongoing maritime threats to Cambodia and extended the vision somewhat by considering the growing importance to the nation of Cambodia’s maritime interests. Further, the White Paper assigned lead responsibility for maritime security and protection to the Navy.133 In doing so it identified five primary missions for the Navy: • • • • •

safeguarding territorial waters and protecting resources in the exclusive economic zone; maintaining peace and cooperation in the region in respect of national borders; protecting maritime trade access and shipping to facilitate economic development; preventing all illegal maritime activities and contributing to regional maritime security; and providing disaster relief.134

To be able to conduct these missions the Navy was required to: • •

project military force at sea; conduct surveillance and patrol operations;

58   Cambodia • • • • •

interdict and board vessels at sea; conduct search and rescue tasks; transport and support armed forces and civil government authorities; conduct diving and ordnance disposal operations; and train and operate with regional naval forces.135

In an admission of the problems in revitalizing naval capabilities, however, the 2006 White Paper noted that virtually every operational element of the Navy was lacking. Little progress had been made in raising the level of maintenance support or in providing technical and other training, despite some help from friendly countries.136 Perhaps more in hope than anything else the White Paper wished for maritime surveillance aircraft and indicated that the Navy could expect new patrol craft, radars (presumably shore-­based surveillance radars) and a new workshop.137 Similarly, at a maritime security seminar held in Phnom Penh in November 2007, Prime Minister Hun Sen expressed the view that, with the help of cooperative neighbours, Cambodia now had the capacity to ‘combat all those terrorists and cross-­border criminals and improve our sea environment protection’.138 This statement represented aspiration more than reality, unless Hun Sen was especially buoyed by the presence in Sihanoukville at the time of the United States Ship (USS) Essex, an amphibious assault ship, visiting Cambodia to conduct medical, military and civil engineering missions. One supposedly corrective measure taken in 2007 was the transfer of a brigade of soldiers from the Army to the Navy to assist in providing security for newly discovered offshore oil fields.139 They lacked, however, a reliable means (airborne or seaborne) of getting the troops to the rigs. Small steps were made. In December 2008 the Cambodian and Vietnamese Navies conducted three joint patrols in the Gulf of Thailand, during which rescue training and cultural and sporting exchanges took place.140 There were also hopes that similar patrols would begin with

Table 4.1  Royal Cambodian Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy 3 3 4 4 N/A

Motor torpedo boats Gun craft Large patrol craft Small patrol craft Landing craft

1962

1972

1982

1992

2002

2012

–

2

2 3 5

3 6 3 (2)

– – – 6 (9) –

– – – 2 (2) 2

– 2 (1) – 2 –

– 2 (1) 4** 5** 1

Sources: Jane’s Fighting Ships; The Military Balance. Notes **  Starred figure includes patrol craft greater than 14 metres operated by Police.

Cambodia   59 Thailand. Nevertheless, even with a 33 per cent rise in the defence budget for financial year 2009 (to US$160 million) the funding priority remained with the Army141 and there was no sign of any further acquisitions to follow the Chinese transfers.

Conclusion In 2012, despite the increasing importance of the maritime domain for the country, the future of the Cambodian Navy remains uncertain. In part, this is because of the continuing lack of a strategic framework and a clear delineation of Cambodia’s maritime priorities. It is true that Cambodia’s recent history of political upheaval and invasion has made it difficult for the country to manage its maritime security interests, but one outcome has been its failure, or at least inability to participate in many of the large number of international arrangements and agreements pertaining to maritime security and the resulting confusion has been reflected in demarcation issues and unconcealed rivalries between the various national maritime agencies. Its maritime authorities have no clear understanding of where sovereignty or sovereign rights can be claimed or enforced142 and no very clear idea of where responsibilities should lie. It is significant that current attempts to improve maritime security by government departments and port authorities have not been receiving support from the Navy or the Maritime Police.143 Cambodia has been a member of the International Maritime Organization since 1966 but is not a signatory to the LOSC. Neither is Cambodia a signatory to the Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts Against the Safety of Maritime Navigation, 1988 (the SUA Convention) nor the Proliferation Security (PSI) and Container Security Initiatives (CSI). On one hand, Cambodia’s maritime interests would warrant involvement in these conventions and agreements, but, on the other hand, Cambodia has not had the capacity to cope with their demands, particularly those relating to offshore claims.144 All this leads to intermittent conflict with Vietnamese and Thai authorities. It also deters investment in maritime industries and this creates a vicious circle, because the continuing absence of economic development means that Cambodia cannot provide the resources for the maritime security effort which would provide the favourable environment necessary for that development to prosper. The reality is that despite expressions of support and a growing understanding of the part it can play in national security, the Navy has continued to languish in the absence of sufficient funding. Most of its patrol craft are old and difficult to maintain, while weapons systems are obsolete and mostly non-­functional.145 Only a few vessels are capable of going to sea and even then only for limited periods and the Armed Forces’ demobilization has taken away skilled and experienced personnel. Operational cap­ ability is also very much limited by inadequate communications equipment.

60   Cambodia The Cambodian Navy’s needs are many, but include both adequate funding and a more coordinated and professional approach within both the Navy and the other maritime departments. Given the very limited capacity of the state to conduct maritime security, even with the benefit of foreign aid, the Navy itself should take the lead in aligning its efforts and its infrastructure with the National Maritime Police. This kind of cooperative approach could also help make best use of the resources available to Cambodia’s maritime sector. Nevertheless, in the present political climate, perhaps the best the Cambodian Navy can hope for is the maintenance of present operational capability and skills and the ongoing help of friendly neighbours in making incremental improvements to them.

5 The Indonesian Navy

Introduction Unique amongst the naval services of the former European possessions in South-­East Asia, the Indonesian Navy has never enjoyed a sympathetic client relationship with a major navy. Consequently, it has been forced to create wholly indigenous concepts of naval organization and operation with unique results, and has paid a price in making its own way. Nevertheless, a history of interrupted development and limited operational standards should not disguise the fact that the Indonesian Navy has made substantial contributions towards the survival and internal stability of the nation and that it has developed sophisticated, if not completely fulfilled concepts of its national role. As the region becomes increasingly complex and as Indonesia becomes more prosperous, the Navy will have much to do.1

Beginnings The Indonesian Navy emerged from the seaborne units which were part of the anti-­Dutch independence movement in 1945. Under the loose command of Rear Admiral Nazir, who was formally designated as C-­in-C (‘Panglima’) in 1946,2 these units were essentially an unsophisticated transport capability. Using fishing vessels and other small craft they moved revolutionary forces around the islands and smuggled arms and other material from sympathetic countries such as Thailand.3 These small craft did, however, accustom the independence movement to the concept of a navy as an integral part of national defence. Thus, when the Dutch– Indonesian ‘Round Table’ discussions took place in 1949 to achieve a ­settlement, they included an agreement to assist with the establishment of an Indonesian naval service through the transfer of ships, facilities and equipment at reduced prices, together with training support from a naval mission. This initial scheme was sensibly conceived. The Dutch transferred minesweepers, seaward defence boats and landing craft in 1949 and 1950 and

62   Indonesia set up a building programme of coastal patrol craft. They even promised a destroyer, which arrived in 1951 and was commissioned into the Angkatan Laut Republik Indonesia (ALRI) as the Gadjah Mada in March 1951.4 But the ALRI had a difficult start. It lacked a core of trained personnel; most of the officers available were from the independence movements and had received very little formal training. Dutch unwillingness to commission Indonesians into the RNLN before the war meant that Lieutenant Subijakto was the only officer with formal training and sea-­going experience.5 There was a pool of enlisted personnel with merchant marine experience, but their technical expertise was low. Relations with the Dutch were not good. Although the commander of the insurgent naval forces, Rear Admiral Nazir, stood down for Subijakto in 1948, to allow the professional Dutch-­trained officer to put the Navy on a firm basis, no effective staff organization then existed and the Dutch were unwilling to substitute for it. The Dutch Naval Mission insisted that the ALRI present it with a coherent programme for development and refused to take responsibility for training at sea.6 Since the Naval Mission was in country only until 1955, the time lost in negotiating such matters had a profound impact on the ALRI. The Dutch–Indonesian Round Table agreement also hindered the ALRI’s early development. Although the Dutch were willing to reduce the valuations of the material they supplied the ALRI by more than 20 per cent,7 the transaction was a sale and not a gift. Indonesia’s financial resources were meagre, so the ALRI could not expect much from the central government. Perhaps deliberately, the Dutch were very moderate in their transfer of ammunition and munitions shortages plagued the ALRI for the next decade, inhibiting its training because of the lack of live firing opportunities for its ships.8 That ammunition would also be needed for the real thing was demonstrated in December 1950, when the ALRI assembled its four minesweepers and its landing craft for the suppression of a rebellion in Ambon in the Moluccas. The operation succeeded, despite damage to one of the minesweepers.9 It foreshadowed the internal security role which would be the ALRI’s principal occupation throughout the 1950s. Consequently, induction of the first recruits for the new Marine Corps (Korps Komando (KKO)) began in January 1951. The KKO’s rapid development to battalion and then brigade strength gave the Navy its own assault and security forces without having to rely upon the Army.

First force structure plans Despite the distractions of an increasingly confused political situation, Subijakto produced a preliminary plan for naval development by 1952. This set a target date of 1960 for a 10,000 man ALRI centred on a light cruiser10 and a small submarine force. A former submariner himself,

Indonesia   63 Subijakto long nursed hopes of acquiring such units for the ALRI. The light cruiser probably owed something to the visit of Indian Naval Ship (INS) Delhi with Indian Prime Minister Nehru embarked, in June 1950. Both the possession of such a large warship and the obvious continuing links with the British ‘caused a minor sensation in Indonesian circles’ and the ALRI was envious of the support which the Indians were receiving from the RN.11 Meanwhile, a Naval Academy was established at Surabaya with limited assistance from the Dutch and a small number of personnel went to the Netherlands to train with the RNLN. The ALRI attempted small-­scale exercises in 1951, which were partially successful.12 For the Navy to prosper, much more external assistance was needed than the Dutch were willing or able to provide after the withdrawal of the Naval Mission in 1955. The ALRI’s difficulty was that Indonesia’s non-­alignment made it politically unacceptable to ask for naval missions from either the US or the UK. Assistance was sought in Australia and in West Germany, but these countries were either unable or unwilling to devote resources on the scale which the ALRI required. Subijakto decided to despatch his best officers to the UK and the US for training, hoping that they would gain sufficient expertise to act as instructors on their return to Indonesia.13 This was, at best, a makeshift solution, particularly as the ALRI suffered from recurrent shortages of foreign currency which resulted in the frequent deferment or cancellation of postings. The ALRI’s primary concerns were anti-­smuggling operations and patrolling the outlying islands to ensure their loyalty. A renewed rebellion in the Celebes demonstrated that the central government’s control over much of the archipelago was tenuous and that an armed presence would be essential if independence movements were to be prevented. The Navy played little part in the political disturbances which wracked Indonesia in 1952. Although it sympathized with the desire of the Army Chief of Staff, General Nasution, to minimize political control of the military in favour of a ‘professional’ ethos, ALRI and KKO units were not involved in the ‘semi-­ coup’ in October when Nasution’s supporters attempted to force President Sukarno to dissolve parliament.14 The ALRI’s loyalty was rewarded by the fact that its leadership remained unchanged when Nasution was forced to resign at the end of 1952. Equally to the point, Sukarno was attracted to the international prestige associated with possession of a sophisticated navy and was sympathetic to the ALRI’s schemes for new construction. In 1954, the Navy was granted a foreign currency credit which allowed it to call for tenders from Europe for the construction of two light frigates and two corvettes. After some murky negotiations, the Italian firm of Ansaldos triumphed over its French rivals,15 but the building process was not entirely smooth. Delays in the Indonesian payments meant that none of the ships was laid down until 1956 and the Italians were unhappy about the presence of German ‘advisers’ retained by the Indonesians to monitor progress.

64   Indonesia

The Sukarno factor President Sukarno was eager for more naval expansion, not least to support increasing pressure on the Dutch to surrender West New Guinea. The Netherlands’ refusal to accept that its last East Indies territory should become part of Indonesia raised the possibility of a military solution, in which naval forces would be critical.16 Subijakto was enthusiastic about the potential of the ALRI in such a case and began to seek more help from around the world. In general, he continued to secure training assistance from the US and the UK, while attempting to place orders for new construction with non-­aligned nations. The training policy had the result of creating a cadre of officers who, despite very limited practical experience, were thoroughly trained and possessed a shrewd idea of the complexities involved in creating an effective navy. Foremost amongst this group, which became increasingly impatient with Subijakto’s over-­centralization and continuing failure to create an effective naval staff, was Lieutenant Colonel Raden Edi Martadinata. Subijakto’s efforts to secure help from the non-­aligned world produced mixed results. Countries such as Sweden, which could build sophisticated warships, would not assist without guarantees that Indonesia could pay. Where help was available, such as Yugoslavia (which would transfer submarine chasers in 1958), it was not of the scale or quality required to face the Dutch. Western Europe was not much more use. West Germany could build only minesweepers and fast torpedo boats, and the French refused to provide submarines.17 More encouraging was progress with a Fleet Air Arm. The Americans provided some basic flight and maintenance personnel, as well as a number of small patrol amphibians and Indonesia signed an agreement with Britain to buy Gannet ASW aircraft. These gave the ALRI a modest anti-­submarine and surveillance capability, along with training for aircrew and other squadron personnel.18 Sukarno’s determination to create a sophisticated army and navy demanded modification of the non-­alignment policy. Indonesia sought help wherever it could be found. By early August 1956 the President was in Moscow to lay the groundwork for arms transfers on a massive scale.19 In February 1957, Subijakto visited the US and sounded out the Americans on the possibility of purchasing a range of vessels, including a light cruiser. The USN considered the sudden acquisition of no less than 75 large and small craft to be ‘quite unrealistic since the number of ships is far more than can be effectively integrated into the navy in the immediate future’.20 They were willing to consider handing over some submarine chasers and auxiliaries, but no more. Yet the turn to the Soviets was not inevitable, nor – as far as the ALRI was concerned – would it ever be complete. Relations between the ALRI and the USN remained cordial and Indonesian personnel continued to train in the United States.

Indonesia   65 Subijakto made one more attempt to secure new ships from the West. Negotiations were opened with Ansaldos for construction of a cruiser and frigates in Italy. As Ansaldos had eventually received payment for the four ships they had already built for the ALRI, they would have been interested in the possibility of a renewed order. The break down in discussions is likely to have been caused by a combination of Dutch and Australian pressure. Both countries were alarmed by developments over West New Guinea and had little cause to relish the prospect of a modern and highly capable Indonesian fleet.21

The archipelagic claim In December 1957, Indonesia took its concept of an island country unified by water to a logical conclusion. Indonesia’s claimed territorial waters were extended from three to 12 miles and the intervening seas were declared to be ‘parts of the internal or national waters which are under the exclusive sovereignty of the Indonesian state’.22 The declaration had been timed to prepare the country’s position at the forthcoming United Nations’ Conference on the Law of the Sea. That it was ‘in advance of the development of a capability to control access by naval powers’23 was rapidly demonstrated. In January 1958, the US despatched Destroyer Division 31 to assert its rights of passage through the Lombok and Mahassai Straits; the ALRI did not attempt to interfere.24 Nevertheless, the concept of archipelagic sovereignty would become a centrepiece of the Indonesian approach to the law of the sea throughout the international negotiations of the next three decades and of the Indonesian Navy’s conception of its key responsibilities. It would never be abandoned.

Rebellion and expansion Events of 1957 and 1958 renewed emphasis on the ALRI. Following the nationalization of all Dutch assets in December 1957, a rightist anti-­Sukarno rebellion broke out in Sumatra and the Celebes in February 1958. This uprising, which was led by local army officers, proved almost beyond the capabilities of the Indonesian armed forces to suppress. The insurgents were not driven out of the populated centres of the islands until the middle of 1958. In the course of supporting operations ashore, the ALRI lost a Bathurst class minesweeper, Hang Tuah, to air attack in April off Balikpapan,25 while one of the two new Italian built corvettes, hastily pressed into service, went aground and was badly damaged.26 If the ALRI was to have any chance against the Dutch in West New Guinea – and Sukarno was creating his own timetable for action – it needed extra ships quickly.27 Poland acted as intermediary for the USSR for the first transfers, which were four Skory class destroyers, two Whiskey class submarines and eight submarine chasers. Although the major combatants came from Polish

66   Indonesia service, the submarine chasers were new construction direct from the Soviets. Indonesia gained this additional strength through highly favourable credit terms: 5 per cent cash payment and ‘soft currency’ and commodity payments of the remainder by instalments over the next decade.28 Sukarno and Subijakto were delighted with the acquisitions. The feelings of the ALRI’s junior officers were mixed. The ships represented a profound technological challenge in themselves, but the addition of the obvious problems of expanding the ALRI’s manpower, training capacity and creating support facilities despite a real language barrier made the task almost insuperable. Some 1,000 personnel were sent to Poland to collect the destroyers and submarines and be trained in their operation. Because the ALRI feared that the Soviets would use the opportunity to indoctrinate naval personnel into communism, officers and senior ratings were wary of this from the outset.

The Soviet experience The Soviet designed units were a mixed success. Neither the destroyers nor the submarines had been tropicalized and the submarines in particular suffered from heat accumulation and battery problems, which drastically limited their submerged endurance.29 Internal temperatures, which had been 20°C in Russian waters, shot up to 52°C in the tropics.30 Induction of the Skorys did at least allow the disposal of the now decrepit Gadjah Mada, conversion into a training ship having proved impracticable. All the new units required extensive crew training and modification to fit them for Indonesian service. The Soviets did their limited best to help with refits in country, thereby achieving some improvement. The lack of solid sea-­going expertise in the ALRI was shown spectacularly in November 1959, when the destroyer Sawunggaling passed at high speed on the wrong side of a buoy in the approaches to Surabaya and impaled herself on a wreck from which she could not be removed for several weeks.31 Sawunggaling’s Captain, Sudomo, was found guilty of hazarding his ship but his achievement of flag rank within two years suggests that the accident was chalked up as necessary experience. Subijakto’s poor personnel management continued, culminating in a mutiny amongst the aircrew training in the UK, which spread to fleet units in Indonesia. Ostensibly protests at the selection of a poorly qualified officer to lead the Fleet Air Arm, the mutinies were effectively an indictment of Subijakto’s policies of the previous decade. The Admiral had few friends in the Army, which was becoming ever more powerful after the return to office of General Nasution and the replacement of parliamentary government by the Nasution-­Sukarno concept of guided democracy. Thus, Colonel Martadinata and his colleagues were able to engineer Subijakto’s removal and his replacement in 1959 by Martadinata, soon promoted Commodore and then Rear Admiral, with Commodore Jos Sudarso as his deputy.

Indonesia   67 The new C-­in-C proved to be a capable chief. Increasing tension with the Netherlands meant that there was no abatement in the naval expansion programme. Despite Martadinata’s ambiguous attitude to it, he attempted to secure better materiel support from the Soviets. Martadinata also used improvements in US–Indonesian relations to renew links with the USN. The Americans were keener to avoid a Communist Indonesia than they were to support the Dutch and were happy to transfer ships and equipment which reflected the reasonable needs of the ALRI. Sukarno was only too pleased to have the Americans and Russians vying for influence through the transfer of military equipment. Thus, Martadinata was able to obtain two submarine chasers and ten tank landing ships (LST) – a type with obvious utility in the archipelago – from the Americans in 1960 and 1961,32 as well as receiving training assistance.33

West New Guinea – Irian Jaya The development of the fleet and Indonesia’s rhetoric over West New Guinea alarmed both Australia and the Netherlands. In 1959 Australia’s Department of Defence submitted a strategic basis paper to Cabinet, which argued that the country had to be prepared to defend its north-­ western approaches without the help of a great power.34 Already deploying destroyers and submarines to West New Guinea, in April 1960 the Dutch government announced the despatch of a small task group based on the light carrier Karel Doorman as a show of strength. The Indonesians were unimpressed by the deployment, which could not be continuous, and Sukarno continued to pressure the Netherlands for a settlement. The Dutch became progressively more isolated in 1961 after the new Kennedy administration in the US indicated sympathy for the Indonesian cause. Without the United States, Australia would not move and Britain had other concerns.35 Sukarno stepped up his campaign in December 1961 with the establishment of KOTI (Supreme Command for the Liberation of West Irian) under the local command of Major General Suharto, with Colonel Sudomo as his naval deputy. KOTI immediately began a campaign of infiltration and harassment in West New Guinea. The results were mixed. While KOTI was politically significant, it achieved little and, in January 1962, the ALRI suffered an embarrassing setback. Three Jaguar class MTBs were intercepted by a Dutch Neptune patrol aircraft off the south coast of West New Guinea. The little force had Commodore Jos Sudarso embarked and carried some 150 troops to establish an Indonesian bridgehead in the Dutch controlled territory. The real intention of the landing was to provide Sukarno with evidence of Indonesia’s steady progress in ‘West Irian’ for his next major speech. Significantly, the area of the coast selected had no military value and was thinly garrisoned. The Dutch aircraft called in two frigates while it monitored the Indonesians’ progress. The ALRI units did not realize that they had been detected

68   Indonesia and continued as the frigates closed them. Not until early evening did the Indonesians spot the patrol aircraft and, when the latter began dropping flares to illuminate the MTBs for the frigates, one of the Jaguars opened fire. This hostile act breached Sudomo’s instructions and it gave the Dutch their excuse to open fire. Having landed their torpedoes to carry troops and rubber boats, the Jaguars were helpless. Matjan Tumul was soon overwhelmed and sunk and the remaining pair chased back into Indonesian waters. Although the Dutch were able to find 52 survivors, who were soon repatriated to a heroes’ welcome, Commodore Sudarso was not amongst them, having been killed when a shell struck the bridge. The episode was a textbook case of confusing political intent with military action and had been ill-­conceived and poorly executed. Sukarno relieved the commander of the Air Force because of the apparent lack of air support given to the MTBs, but neither the Air Force nor any service headquarters in Jakarta had been informed of the plan. Sudarso’s role remains uncertain, although he was probably a prime mover in its planning. The first that the Indonesian central government knew of the encounter was apparently through an Indian journalist who had heard the news on Dutch radio. The incident provided the ALRI with food for thought. Apart from the loss of its energetic and influential Deputy Chief of Naval Staff, the Navy now had some experience of facing a determined and competent opponent at sea. This had a restraining effect on the ALRI’s part in further West New Guinea operations and it may well have contributed to the cautious attitude which the Navy adopted during the period of ‘Konfrontasi’ (Confrontation) over Malaysia. In fact, the ALRI could avoid further action because Sukarno’s tactics on West New Guinea proved masterly. The US desire to see a peaceful settlement brought about negotiations in Washington in March 1962. The Dutch were determined, at least on the question of future self-­determination by the people of the territory, but Indonesia remained intransigent and, in July 1962, began preparing for a full-­scale invasion.36 Dutch naval and air forces in the region were strong enough to repel an assault with heavy losses, despite the warships and aircraft available to Indonesia. The ALRI was more successful with its submarines than it had been with the MTBs and several insertions of small special forces units were achieved.37 The Indonesian threats achieved the desired result. Some further compromises on both sides led to a settlement on 15 August 1962, which promised effective Indonesian control of what was now termed West Irian, by May 1963.

More Soviet ships Martadinata had worked out a ten year plan which was ambitious, but combined Sukarno’s desires for naval expansion with a logical force structure. By the end of the decade, the ALRI numbered some 50,000 personnel, with a further 10,000 in the KKO. Martadinata intended to create a

Indonesia   69 sea-­going fleet in addition to separate local defence forces under regional commands. The sea-­going, or ‘Main’ Fleet was intended to comprise a submarine force, an ASW task group centred on a carrier and a surface action group centred on a cruiser. By mid-­1961, cadre personnel for the cruiser and additional submarines were training in the USSR. The rate and scale of the transfers could not be concealed and the Western powers were watching developments in the ALRI. The Air Force, too, was receiving much Soviet equipment. By November at least eight Tu-­16 (Badger) bombers were in Indonesia, with indications that more were on the way.38 These aircraft carried air-­tosurface missiles.39 A rash of naval arrivals appeared in 1962, including at least six Whiskey class submarines, another Skory class destroyer and, in October, the Sverdlov class cruiser Ordzhonikidze and two Riga class frigates. The cruiser, renamed Irian, to commemorate the recent humiliation of the Dutch, was greeted with great ceremony. The ALRI used the occasion to boast of its progress, publicly announcing that the Navy would acquire surface-­to-surface missile firing units and that a second Sverdlov would transfer from the USSR ‘by 1964’. The scale of Indonesian ambitions was further indicated by the declaration that the ALRI had achieved only 40 per cent of the strength planned for the Navy40 and that surface-­toair missile firers would be the next step.41 Yet the relationship with the Soviets was proving to be difficult. The ALRI suspected the Soviets’ political intent, which had been clearly demonstrated by the Soviet Navy’s heavy-­handed approach during a task group visit including the cruiser Admiral Senyavin in November 1959.42 Inevitably, the complicated new ships needed Soviet cadres as advisers and for base technical assistance while the Indonesians familiarized themselves. But the ALRI firmly opposed proposals for the permanent stationing of advisory personnel or the deployment of Soviet warships to Indonesia for other than courtesy visits.43 The Indonesians isolated Russian technicians when they could and monitored their activities closely. Even in better circumstances, the difficulties would have remained almost insuperable. The sheer volume of documentation to be translated from Russian to Indonesian overwhelmed the limited number of interpreters. The Soviets had little experience in distant logistic support, or of tropical conditions, and the stores and spares problems became so acute that two of the submarines were transferred specifically for cannibalization. Yet the political agenda remained, now focused on destroying the federation of Malaysia. Throughout 1963 the transfers continued, with missile-­armed Komar class FAC and two more Riga class frigates. Unsurprisingly, the latter units, simple and robust, soon became the backbone of the operational fleet and some remained in service long after the cruiser and destroyers had gone. Martadinata, however, slowed down the rate of transfers, and altered it in favour of units destined for cannibalization.44 Talk of a second cruiser and even of a third hull which the Russians

70   Indonesia would convert to an aircraft carrier evaporated in the face of the extreme difficulties encountered with operating the Irian. Martadinata had other reasons for reducing the pace of expansion. Although the Soviet ships had been paid for by special capital funding, the ALRI was not receiving the additional operating budget which it needed to run the fleet. Indonesia’s economic situation was deteriorating and the armed forces were forced to limit their spending. The Army was determined that it should not suffer disproportionately and began to agitate against further ship purchases.45 Martadinata was faced in 1963 with the prospect of 60 per cent cuts in the ALRI’s budget. The Navy, in the crisis atmosphere which Sukarno was encouraging in his campaign against Malaysia, was able to limit the reductions but anticipated that pressure would be renewed in 1964 and 1965.

Confrontation Apart from the relief it afforded from the prospects of retrenchment, neither the Army nor Navy shared Sukarno’s enthusiasm for confrontation with Malaysia. Although the ALRI was prepared to deploy submarines and surface ships around Malaysian waters,46 it could not face the rapidly increasing forces of the UK and its allies.47 The ALRI’s limited capability was again demonstrated when one of the Riga class frigates ‘ran aground on one of the Bintan islands, almost within sight of Singapore’.48 Martadinata agreed with the Army general staff ’s attitude to the prospect of war. Thus, he limited the participation of regular forces within the organizations which Sukarno devised to prosecute his campaign. Although ALRI patrol vessels maintained a presence outside Malaysian waters, sometimes aggressively, insertions of personnel into Malaysian territory were generally conducted by air or by disguised small boats or fishing vessels. The Navy’s amphibious units were not attached to the supposed invasion force which was to be assembled in Sumatra. Without such assets, any large-­scale activity was impossible.49 As the months passed, the ALRI suffered from the dislocations occasioned by Indonesia’s increasing economic and political difficulties. The aggression against Malaysia saw the suspension of aid and loans promised from the West. The campaign to ‘Crush Malaysia’ appeared to advantage the increasingly powerful Communist Party in Indonesia (PKI). Lack of funds and continuing training deficiencies kept the fleet alongside for much of the time and most of its limited sea-­going was confined to the Surabaya exercise areas. Of the 12 submarines bought for operational service, no more than six were available. The Komars experienced continual difficulties with their SS-­N-2 missiles and the Irian could barely steam.50 Martadinata was leading a service increasingly internally divided. The KKO under the energetic Major General Hartono pursued a leftist pro-­Sukarno line at odds with the Army, while junior officers within the ALRI became

Indonesia   71 dissatisfied with the state of the Navy and the apparent lack of priority given to improving operational efficiency. Indonesia’s continuing difficulties in achieving recognition of its maritime claims were reinforced in August 1964, when a British task group led by the carrier Victorious passed through the Lombok Strait, to emphasize the Western claims to rights of passage through the archipelago. Had Victorious not had a defective rudder, the transit would have been conducted through the Sunda Strait, humiliatingly close to Jakarta.51 The submarine Alugoro observed the passage of the carrier on the surface,52 but the ALRI did not attempt to interfere. The uncertainty of Martadinata’s situation was demonstrated in a protest by the ‘Progressive-­Revolutionary Officers’ Movement’ in February 1965, whose members complained to Sukarno about Martadinata’s inadequacies. The President temporized, advising the protesters to resolve their differences with the Admiral directly. This resulted in a mutiny of junior officers in Surabaya early in March. Even this was insufficient to force Sukarno to dismiss Martadinata. The latter enjoyed the support of the Army commanders and the President declared that Martadinata was ‘fully entrusted’ with resolution of the difficulties. Since many of the junior officers’ complaints were professional, not political, Martadinata moved carefully. Although some 145 officers were removed from the active ALRI, they were transferred to the Department of Maritime Affairs.53 The affair damaged both the ALRI’s morale and its long-­term efficiency; many of the mutineers had been amongst the most capable of the Navy’s junior officers.

The 1965 Indo-­Pakistan War Indonesian adventurism in the late Sukarno period and the ALRI’s involvement, were best demonstrated by the response to Pakistan’s pleas for assistance during the brief war with India in September 1965. Sukarno promised ‘all possible assistance’ and the Air Force agreed to transfer both MIG-­15s and 19s. Martadinata went further, despatching two submarines, two Komars and two Jaguar class torpedo boats to Pakistan. He even suggested that Indonesia invade the Andamans to put pressure on India’s eastern flank. This idea led only to demonstration flights over the islands but, combined with Sukarno’s declared ideas of an ‘Indonesian Ocean’, caused justifiable alarm in India. The Indonesian warships arrived in Pakistani waters after the cease-­ fire but they visited several Pakistani ports and stayed ‘until such time as the chances of recurrence of hostilities had receded’.54

Coup and counter The leftist ‘30 September’ movement, which allegedly attempted a coup against the Army on 1 October 1965, had relatively little direct ALRI involvement. The ‘counter-­coup’ operations, under the direction of the

72   Indonesia commander of the Army Strategic Reserve (KOSTRAD) Major General Suharto, had initially only cautious naval support. Nevertheless, Martadinata soon accepted Suharto’s effective leadership in the measures taken against the ‘30 September conspirators’ and against the PKI. The Navy’s long-­term political position was, however, more complicated. The ALRI feared the prospect of a dominant Army and retained much sympathy for Sukarno as the ‘Father’ of the nation.55 Consequently, when Sukarno reasserted his authority with a Cabinet reshuffle that involved Martadinata’s removal from command of the Navy, there was no resistance. To replace him, Sukarno eventually selected Rear Admiral Muljadi, who was a Sukarnoist. Martadinata, perhaps appropriately, was appointed as Ambassador to Pakistan, but died some months later in a helicopter crash while visiting Java. The President took the unusual step of including General Hartono within the Cabinet as ‘Deputy Navy Minister’ – he continued to command the KKO – which had no parallel in the other services. It was an attempt at packing the government which offended the Army.56 Nevertheless, while the Navy and the other services continued to support Sukarno, they were unwilling to move against the Army except in desperation. The feeling was mutual, since Suharto had no desire to push Indonesia into a civil war. Thus, although there were arrests of Sukarnoist ministers and sympathizers in March 1966, which meant the de facto end of Sukarno’s regime, the facade of presidential authority was continued.

The New Order Suharto continued to consolidate power gradually while the Navy and the KKO maintained their ostensible support of President Sukarno in the hope that the Army would not dominate the government outright.57 Suharto was patient. Purging the leftist Air Force was more important than dealing with the ALRI or KKO and, in any case, the change in the external political climate dictated new approaches to defence policy. Confrontation was quietly ended and the almost constant atmosphere of crisis gave way to an acknowledgement that Indonesia was not subject to direct external threat and that its first concerns must be domestic. The Army outlined its new national security policies at seminars in August and November 1966. These gatherings outlined the concept of the Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia (ABRI) as a military and social force, with its primary duty the internal security and development of the nation. External threats were secondary to this and the military’s resources were allocated accordingly. This cut across the Navy’s emerging conception of Indonesia as a maritime nation under threat, with the ALRI as its prime defender, and removed the case for highly capable but expensive naval forces. Navy displeasure was reflected in the steady reduction in the numbers of its officers attending the November seminar sessions. But such passive resistance and public criticism of the Army’s purges expressed through

Indonesia   73 58

Navy-­supervised newspapers meant little when the Sukarnoist elements elsewhere were progressively deferring to Suharto’s supporters. Furthermore, the Army now controlled government finances and the progressive reduction in the Navy’s vote combined with the departure of the Soviets to immobilize the bulk of the fleet. Transferring transports to merchant charter and allowing landing craft to ‘moonlight’ for the Navy in inter-­ island trade generated some funds, but they could not make up the deficiencies. The Navy lost status in 1967 with the abolition of the separate service ministries and loss of cabinet rank by the individual service commanders. Following the partial amalgamation of the cadet academies in the previous year, the Army was clearly bent on creating – even if largely Army oriented – a cohesive joint organization.59 By early 1967, Muljadi was planning to reduce the active fleet by at least half and concentrate resources upon a small unit of submarines and escorts. Refit work on the destroyers and the Irian continued, while gravely restricted by a chronic lack of funds. Muljadi received short shrift from the Soviets when he visited Moscow in late 1967, being informed when he enquired about spares that ‘supplies would be made available only on a cash basis’.60 The KKO under General Hartono engaged in sporadic resistance to the Army but, by 1969, its position and the Navy’s had weakened such that Suharto appointed both General Hartono and Admiral Muljadi to ambassadorships and installed his protege, Rear Admiral Sudomo, as the new commander of the Navy. This posting came hard on the important structural changes of October 1969 which abolished the individual services commands-­in-chief and created a joint service command. The heads of the single services were now chiefs of staff and they surrendered most of their operational authority to the C-­in-C of the Armed Forces or to the six regional commands (KOWILHAN) which subsumed the local forces. Apart from the loss of formal authority by the smaller services, the Army’s stranglehold on senior posts within the new organization confirmed its domination of policy. The budget arrangements reflected the new reality of the Renstra Hakam (Defence-­Security Strategic Plan). Resources allocated to the military would reflect the needs of national development and would be adjusted ‘likewise, utilising sound economic principles, in order to guarantee the continuation of the development effort’.61 Government spending was allocated according to Five Year Plans (Repelita), the first of which ran until 1973/1974. It emphasized reorganization to create unified armed forces, leaving little for technical services or equipment procurement. The next five years for the Navy, renamed in 1970 the TNI-­AL, would necessarily be lean. The new Naval Chief of Staff had a mandate to bring the Navy into line with the Suharto regime and he enacted personnel reforms energetically. Sudomo was a trusted associate of the new Acting President, dating from

74   Indonesia his service as the naval component commander for the 1961 West Irian operations. Within weeks, a dozen senior officers had been dismissed or arrested62 and Sudomo purged the junior ranks ‘with such single-­ mindedness and despatch that it had become something of a joke amongst those in the Suharto group that, if Sudomo did not stop soon, the Indonesian Navy might be left with a number of ships but no officers to command them’. Sudomo later admitted to removing some 1,500 officers from the TNI-­AL and KKO in the course of his reforms.63 These personnel losses, combined with the effects of budgetary reductions and the loss of Soviet support, meant that the fleet was moribund by 1970. Sudomo desperately concentrated his very limited resources, after provision for patrol and transport work amongst the islands, on a small task group centred on a headquarters ship and two Rigas, but with limited success. Revival of the submarine force proved impossible without foreign assistance and attempts at missile firings from the Komars were so unsuccessful that the capability was abandoned.

The turn to the West Rapprochement with the United States and Australia provided some of the assistance which the TNI-­AL desperately needed. Continued funding restrictions prevented any large-­scale acquisitions, but the USN transferred six coastal minesweepers in 1971, which immediately began patrol operations. In fact, the Navy put them to such ‘constant usage’ that their wooden hulls had deteriorated past economic repair when the initial five year loan expired in 1976.64 Australia followed the American example with two Attack class patrol boats in 1973 and 1974, but the rebirth of the TNI-­AL as a sea-­going force really began with the transfer of the first of four Claude Jones class destroyer escorts from the US at the end of 1973. These diesel-­powered ‘mass production’ ASW escorts, too small and slow for American service, represented the reliable sea-­going capability which the TNI-­AL so desperately needed. These transfers were accompanied by the wholesale scrapping of non-­effective Soviet-­built ships between 1972 and 1974. By 1975, apart from small craft, the only Soviet combatants left in the TNI-­AL were four Riga class frigates and two Whiskey class submarines, with a third as an alongside trainer. Slightly improved funding under the second five year plan and the second-­hand ships, provided a basis for improving training standards. The TNI-­AL conducted passage exercises with the RN, USN and the RAN, and began regular exercises with ASEAN navies. The TNI-­AL exercised with Malaysia regularly from 1971 onwards, with the Philippines from 1972 and separately with the Thais and Singaporeans annually from 1974.65 It even managed a successful deployment in 1974 to southern Australian waters. In the same year, the active fleet was divided into Eastern and Western units, both based on Surabaya.

Indonesia   75 This period of limited but real TNI-­AL progress, within a relatively benign strategic environment, was interrupted by two developments which emphasized the need for effective maritime defence. The first was the collapse of South Vietnam in 1975. While Indonesia had always felt empathy for the cause of the Vietcong and North Vietnam, the possibilities of United States disengagement from the region implicit in the Guam doctrine and America’s rapprochement with China – itself becoming more active in the South China Sea – created deep uncertainties for Jakarta.66 A package of measures, designed to improve Indonesia’s security position, was added as a supplement to the 1975/1976 component of the second five year plan. It provided additional capital expenditure for the Air Force and Navy.67 The second development was Indonesia’s invasion of the former Portugese colony, East Timor. After considerable debate, Indonesia, fearing the effect of an independent Marxist-­aligned and unstable state on the archipelago, invaded in December 1975. The TNI-­AL contributed about 30 landing ships and escorts and conducted bombardments in support of troops ashore. While the Navy’s part proceeded relatively smoothly, the presence of a Portuguese warship to protest the Indonesian intervention, was a reminder that the TNI-­AL should be able to defend itself against other warships.68 Well aware of its limitations, the Navy did not suffer the shocks felt by the Army from the poor training and equipment which became rapidly apparent, but sympathized fully with the reform process which resulted from lessons learned in East Timor.69 The first fruits for the TNI-­AL were an order for three Exocet-­equipped light frigates from the Netherlands, thereby at last restoring a credible surface warfare capability. A Dutch engineer summed up the new approach to acquisition, ‘There won’t be any repeat of the past. This time they have got the equipment they need and a very comprehensive maintenance programme. . . . They are taking it all very seriously.’70 Next was an order from South Korea for four missile armed FAC. Selection of the Korean design over a more costly (despite US Foreign Military Sales credits) American competitor introduced what was to be a consistent TNI-­AL policy over the next 30 years, of securing the cheapest suitable type.71 Restoration of the submarine force began in 1977 with an order for two Type 209 submarines from West Germany, with a similar stores and training package to the light frigates. The TNI-­AL tried to downplay the purchase of these units, noting that the primary interest was to remain abreast of technological change,72 but their 1981 entry into service gave the Navy some capacity to deny movement through the archipelago to sophisticated opposition. This new credibility was important because the forthcoming 1982 Law of the Sea Convention would largely recognize Indonesia’s concepts of archipelagic rights. This was something for which the Indonesian armed forces had long laboured, occasionally pre-­empting .

76   Indonesia the responsibilities of the Foreign Ministry.73 So confident was the government of a successful conclusion to the concept that it advanced the schedule, proclaiming a 200 mile EEZ in 1980.74 ‘Land and Water’ remained an integral element of national policy and defence doctrine. President Suharto formally acknowledged the reconstruction programme in January 1978, by declaring that ‘the growing financial capacity of the state allowed a reorientation of defence expenditures to better respond to foreign threats’.75 Further purchases of a training frigate from Yugoslavia and landing ships from South Korea followed before the end of the decade. Despite the range of equipment involved, the TNI-­AL was generally satisfied with the acquisitions and planned further expansion.76 This was formally announced in 1980 with the declaration of a 20 year plan for naval development. The minimum force was to be based on four fast frigates and six submarines, with a range of fast attack and patrol craft and auxiliaries. Funds permitting, three more frigates and another six submarines would be added to the force.77 In 1980, too, reflecting the progress achieved in all the armed forces, an archipelago-­wide joint exercise involving ‘upwards of thirty thousand men’ was conducted. Results were mixed but the potential was obvious.78

Interrupted progress Despite TNI-­AL optimism, economic problems once more intervened to stifle development. Dramatic falls in oil prices in the early 1980s, the devaluation of the rupiah and increasing foreign debt badly affected expensive new construction programmes. A second Yugoslavian frigate was cancelled outright, no more Dutch light frigates were purchased and submarine force expansion was delayed indefinitely. Although the German boats had proved reasonably successful, they were expensive to maintain and their ‘deep’ maintenance was beyond Indonesian capabilities. The TNI-­AL still required new warships but it would have to look elsewhere. A second complication for force development was the desire to create an indigenous shipbuilding industry. A Maritime Industry Centre, PT PAL Indonesia, had been established in 1980 using the naval dockyard at Surabaya as its foundation. Enjoying the support of Dr Bacharuddin Habibie, the influential Minister for Research and Technology, PT PAL had the aim of achieving a capability ‘to build, repair and maintain naval ships for the enhancement of the nation’s defence and security capability’.79 The intent was laudable, but the learning process would be lengthy. The TNI-­AL dilemma was that the armed forces’ concepts of supporting national economic development dictated that PT PAL should receive the Navy’s support, a situation confirmed by the enactment of regulations to prevent overseas orders unless special circumstances existed.80 New construction projects with foreign builders could not be justified if PT PAL said that it could do the job and, furthermore, development of

Indonesia   77 the shipyard was likely to draw off any available capital. This was clarified with an order for PT PAL, combined with the German firm, Lürssens, to build eight 57 m fast patrol craft in various configurations. The first unit, built in West Germany and shipped incomplete to Indonesia for fitting out, did not commission until 1988. The class proved very successful in service, but an eight year building period was more than twice the time that a wholly overseas order would have taken.81 PT PAL intended to follow the 57 m project with the construction of up to 23 light frigates, but the time taken building the smaller vessels was discouraging. Notwithstanding much discussion during the 1980s and formal government approval,82 the project did not develop further. Meanwhile, the TNI-­AL needed replacement frigates which it had to obtain with limited funding and without political ramifications. This meant entering the second-­hand market, which Indonesia did in 1984, purchasing three 20-year-­old Tribal class frigates from the UK. Apart from refits to restore equipment to operational condition, none of these ships received any modernization. This purchase was followed in 1986 by an agreement with the Netherlands for the transfer of two modified Leander (Van Speijk) class frigates, with an option on a second pair – soon taken up. The TNI-­AL completed a clean sweep of the Van Speijks in 1989, when it bought the last pair in Dutch service.83 More reforms came in the defence command structure during 1984. All the service area commands were abolished and incorporated into ten joint service regions or territorial military commands (KODAM). Each KODAM commander was given operational control of all service units within his area.84 The major units in the active fleet were divided into Eastern and Western Commands based on Surabaya and Teluk Ratai in South Sumatra. This allowed effective ‘strike’ forces to operate against any large-­scale incursions into the archipelago while creating a series of discrete ‘strong points’ (the ten KODAM) which would force any aggressor to adopt an ‘island by island’ strategy.85 To support the Western Fleet, the TNI-­AL proposed large-­scale development of Teluk Ratai on the southern tip of Sumatra, facing Sunda Strait, a naval base project which would require considerable capital.86

Concepts for the 1980s The TNI-­AL’s development plans in the 1980s generally reflected the increasing priority for maritime forces demanded by the developing strategic situation. Naval planners spoke of the Navy’s over-­extension, noting that ‘their needs for their vast coastline are in the area of 150 frigates and destroyers, but they have to make do with 40 [sic]’.87 Importantly, however, the bulk of these remarkable numbers was derived from the TNI-­AL’s perception of the archipelago’s internal requirements for what were essentially police or coast guard functions, rather than

78   Indonesia sophisticated naval combat operations. Consequently, the TNI-­AL was relatively content with fundamentally unsophisticated ships such as the Tribal class, if a core of capable units existed for a ‘strike’ force. The Van Speijks with their modern weapons and sensors (the Dutch had ‘half-­lifed’ the class between 1976 and 1982) provided a very welcome supplement to the Dutch-­built light frigates and took some of the urgency from the TNI-­AL’s need to commit itself to the risks of PT PAL’s building programme. Development of the base at Teluk Ratai indicated the TNI-­AL’s attitude to external strategy. Construction was delayed for years because of high costs88 and low priority. Facilities in Sumatra would improve the Navy’s access to the Strait of Malacca and to the South China Sea at a time when other regional powers were undertaking significant naval developments. However, even the Indian build-­up of naval combatants and its construction of facilities in the Andamans were regarded with equanimity. Indian ‘intentions’ were what counted89 and only in 1989 did the Indonesian Chief of Naval Staff formally express concern about India’s naval activities during an official visit to New Delhi.90 The South China Sea was watched more closely, since Indonesia had extensive territorial claims in the area, but its approach was to seek peaceful solutions to conflicting interests.91 By contrast, Indonesia was provocative in continually asserting its archipelagic ‘rights’. The 1982 LOSC differed from the Indonesian conception in one important respect – other nations’ ships were allowed to make expeditious passage through the straits of the archipelago and Indonesia had no right to interrupt them. Indonesia was prepared to accept such doctrine for the Malacca Strait but it regarded the deep water Lombok and Sunda Straits differently. In September 1988, the TNI-­AL announced that both straits would be closed temporarily while naval weapons firing exercises were held. The controversy which followed was apparently confined to the diplomatic arena, but it was a significant indication of Indonesia’s continuing view of its ‘rights’ and the TNI-­AL’s espousal of the cause.92 Operationally, the TNI-­AL engaged in an exercise programme that was slowly becoming more sophisticated. While Indonesia continued to avoid multi-­lateral defence activities, the number and level of bilateral passage and routine exercises grew. Indonesia and Brunei engaged in the Pelican series of exercises and links with Singapore and Malaysia also increased. The military relationship with the United States was low key but cordial, and that with Australia, while often subject to disruption over other issues, improved further in the early 1990s. The TNI-­AL combined operational gain with a boost for PT PAL in 1990, when it took two newly completed PB-­57 class fast patrol vessels on a sales and exercise tour of Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei. With Singapore, this culminated in the most sophisticated joint training hitherto conducted by the two countries.93

Indonesia   79

A future force structure? Still the most difficult question for the TNI-­AL was the shape of its future force structure. Although the intention to opt for a 23 ship light frigate programme had been publicly reaffirmed in 1989, doubts remained over its viability. By 1990 it was clear that at least the lead unit would have to be built overseas and the programme was reduced to 19 units.94 Debate over the next two years brought no firm result. Similar uncertainties affected the other key element of the TNI-­AL, the submarine force. The Type 209s had been subjected to thorough, but expensive and lengthy half-­life modernizations in Germany between 1986 and 1989.95 Although their success was publicly demonstrated in the destruction of the old frigate Lambung Mangkurat by a SUT torpedo fired from Cakra on 3 August 1989,96 the TNI-­AL hesitated to order more. The troubled Indian experience with indigenous Type 209 construction was a clear warning for PT PAL. Nevertheless, the desire remained for a stronger submarine capability. The mine countermeasures force was also struggling to exist on a sustainable scale. Two Tripartite type minehunters had been bought from the Netherlands in 1985 and commissioned in 1988, but plans for ten more to be built in Indonesia were stalled indefinitely through ‘lack of funds’.97 Much against its will, the TNI-­AL was forced to buy no fewer than 39 units of the old East German Navy. These included 16 corvettes, 12 landing ships, two combat support ships and nine coastal minesweepers.98 The scheme was the brainchild of Dr Habibie and not the Navy. President Suharto had approved it, significantly, without any consultation with the military99 and, apparently, not much with other elements of government. All did not go as planned with the purchase, which was also to have included construction of the long delayed deep-­water naval base at Teluk Ratai. The Finance Minister refused to fund the programme fully, so most of the capital works did not proceed and the refits were sharply curtailed. TNI-­AL unhappiness with these units was magnified by the realization that their refit and modernization would be so limited. All had nonetheless to be ‘tropicalized’, and their standards of construction and sophistication would have been remarkably familiar to the older personnel of the TNI-­ AL.100 Apparently India offered to service the ex-­East German vessels at the Mazagon Dockyard.101 Financial restrictions and an understandable preference to have any work done in country told against the proposal.102 Nevertheless, the relatively new ex-­East German hulls allowed a cleanout of the oldest TNI-­AL units, employed on inter-­island patrol duties, while giving PT PAL a necessary breathing space for the start of the frigate programme. Another second-­hand acquisition at about this time was the underway replenishment ship Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) Green Rover, which was bought and refurbished in the UK before delivery in September 1992. Although already 23 years old, this ship represented the only real underway replenishment capability in the TNI-­AL103 and became a fleet workhorse.

80   Indonesia PT PAL in Surabaya had another opportunity to work with the Type 209 class submarines. KRI Cakra, first of the two, underwent a substantial refit in the mid-­1990s, involving replacement of the main batteries, refurbishment of the periscopes and overhaul of the Signaal Sinbad fire control system.104 Cakra did not, however, meet the planned return to operational service date of late 1995. Towards the end of 1996, the TNI-­AL was confident of acquiring a third Type 209,105 but continuing restrictions on funding prevented this.106 There were suggestions at the time that both submarines were effectively non-­operational.107 The TNI-­AL eventually got its boats back to sea and maintained the small force with further refits in later years. The Navy never abandoned the submarine capability outright, but the costs and the lack of critical mass created significant difficulties in sustaining it. The East German purchase was disappointing in another respect. Despite the inclusion of nine much needed minesweepers and the TNI-­ AL’s acknowledgement that it was poorly placed to counter a mine threat within the archipelago,108 the Kondor II class minesweepers were used primarily as general patrol craft.109 The lack of funds and the needs of internal security combined to prevent the systematic employment of mine warfare vessels as mine countermeasure units. In any event, the TNI-­AL clung to its long-­term plans for acquiring at least 20 frigates and for improving its maritime surveillance capacity.110 Four more PB-­57 large patrol craft with much improved combat data systems were ordered from PT PAL in 1993, bringing the total of these craft to 12.111 Any significant increase in force strength and in the size of its surface combatants would necessitate expansion of the TNI-­AL’s shore infrastructure, given that there were few ports in the archipelago capable of supporting sophisticated warships,112 and some thought was being given to the provision of additional bases, including at Natuna Island, Sibolga in West Sumatra and the Aru Islands.113 The TNI-­AL relied on Australian-­built Nomad Searchmasters and locally built CN-­235 Air Force aircraft for airborne maritime surveillance, while it operated Wasp helicopters from seven of its frigates. Maritime aviation received a boost in 1996 with the ordering of additional CN-­235 maritime patrol aircraft. The Naval Air Arm itself was further strengthened with 20 ex-­Australian Nomad aircraft, adding to the 16 already in TNI-­AL service. They proved very suitable for patrol of Indonesia’s archipelagic waters.114 Of note, at least six of the Nomads were to be assigned to the Natuna Islands and the western approaches of the Malacca Strait. The purchase of six Lynx helicopters was also planned but not carried through. By the mid-­1990s, Indonesia’s Navy comprised 42,000 personnel, including the very professional 14,000 strong Marine Corps, of two brigades.115 The surface fleet had 17 surface combatants, of which the six Dutch-­built Van Speijk class frigates and the three Fatahillah class frigates were combat capable.116 There were also about 100 patrol craft – far too few to maintain

Indonesia   81 security in the vast archipelago. On the other hand, the TNI-­AL maintained a substantial and hard working sealift capability for inter-­island civil and commercial communications, and for moving military forces and supplies. The fixation on internal security and development was an inevitable consequence of the continuing ‘dual function’ role of the Indonesian military, and a bleak reality. Significant areas within the Indonesian archipelago remained undeveloped and depended on mainly naval support for their links to the outside world, while a number of separatist movements festered. Of these, the ‘Free Aceh’ movement became a progressively more serious maritime threat in the vital sea lane of the Malacca Strait, through the systematic hijacking and looting of ships.

Piracy and other issues The ‘Free Aceh’ pirates were not the only challenge. The rapidly growing Asia-­Pacific economies highlighted the importance of the Malacca Strait and other straits in the Indonesian and Philippine archipelagoes as vital conduits for regional and global trade. Thus in the early 1990s, the rise of piracy and robbery in South-­East Asian waters, especially in the Strait of Malacca claimed the attention of maritime security authorities. Some feared that local naval forces were implicated. Regional cooperation was complicated by the fact that South-­East Asia was the subject of several maritime territorial disputes. Several involved Indonesia and its neighbours, and some naval expansion and capability improvement was being justified by these issues.117 The scale of the illegal maritime activity and the limited capacity of the local navies to deal with it were encapsulated in the Malaysian Prime Minister’s question at the time: ‘Is it really too much to ask that those who use the passages, and the maritime nations, contribute towards the cost of keeping them free and safe?’118 Experience showed, however, that there were local limits to the contributions that would be accepted. Subsequently, in June 1992, Singapore and Indonesia settled on cooperative arrangements to combat piracy. These included the right of hot pursuit in each other’s waters.119 Multilateral cooperation began in early 1993, when Indonesian, Malaysian and Singaporean authorities met to examine security issues in the Malacca Strait and the potential for improving surveillance and response.120 This provided the foundation for the sometimes fitful development of increasingly comprehensive cooperative mechanisms by the three navies and other security forces of each nation. Protection of maritime resources became increasingly important, especially in the context of Indonesia’s long-­term assessment of China as a potential threat. Consequently, Beijing’s 1993 declaration of territorial sea status for the South China Sea, including a claim over part of the EEZ around Indonesia’s Natuna Islands, raised anxieties in Jakarta.121 Indonesia was then beginning to exploit the extensive and potentially very important gas deposits in the islands. An indication of their significance came

82   Indonesia with the deployment of several TNI-­AL units there in 1996, just a few months after a major joint exercise in the area.122 Similar concerns for the security of oil and gas resources led to coordinated air and sea patrols of the Timor Gap by Indonesian and Australian forces during the 1990s.123

Unrest and East Timor Indonesia’s occupation of East Timor was never approved by the United Nations, but was recognized by all of Indonesia’s neighbours, including Australia. Unrest in East Timor in the early 1990s was quelled, but subsequently there were signs of political instability and separatism in Aceh, South Sulawesi and Kalimantan. Indonesia–Australia relations moved to a new level with the December 1996 conclusion of a security pact, the only one Indonesia had with another country. The agreement emphasized consultation and cooperation and was a major step for both nations. It was to be tested very quickly.

Reform in Indonesia and the challenge of East Timor The Asian financial crisis, beginning in mid-­1997, led to the almost immediate halt of all military acquisition programmes. In the Indonesian Navy’s case, plans to expand the submarine force through the purchase of five surplus German Navy Type 206 submarines were abandoned in 1998. Cancellation occurred only after two of the submarines had been taken over and named, Kapal di Republic Indonesia (KRI) Naga Rangsong and KRI Naga Banda, in September 1997,124 indicating the severity of the financial situation that the TNI-­AL and the country faced. More significantly, the crisis created great unrest in Indonesia and huge student-­led demonstrations eventually led to the ousting of President Suharto in May 1998, and to a change in the intrusive socio-­political ‘dual function’ role of the military services.125 Suharto’s replacement, Dr Habibie, together with General Wiranto, the Minister of Defence and Security and Commander-­in-Chief of the Military, attempted to reform the armed forces. The process included cutting military representation in the House of Representatives from 75 to 38 and forcing thousands of officers to choose between civil government jobs or military careers.126 Nevertheless, the Army in particular attempted to maintain its tight control over society, notably in the peripheral provinces. Some elements of the Army were accused of stoking ethnic and religious tensions throughout the country, especially in East Timor, prior to the August 1999 referendum on the status of the province.127 There was little or no direct naval involvement and some impatience within the TNI-­AL at the Army’s overall handling of East Timor since the 1975 occupation. The referendum result in East Timor and a corruption scandal resulted in Habibie losing his position and being replaced by Abdurrahman Wahid (better known as Gus

Indonesia   83 Dur) as president. Further reforms then emerged, including naming a civilian as Minister of Defence and Admiral Widodo Adi Sutjipto as C-­in-C of the military – the first non-­Army officer to fill that position.128 Despite growing military unrest, especially following General Wiranto’s dismissal, the President continued with his reforms, including the cessation of all military representation in parliament by 2004. The Australian-­led multi-­national intervention into East Timor under United Nations’ mandate and the subsequent independence of the little country were traumatic for Indonesia’s armed forces. Notwithstanding how East Timor had been incorporated into the Republic, it was the first territory to be lost and the event struck at the core of the Indonesian military’s self-­perception as the nation’s guardians. Indonesian naval forces deployed to monitor the intervention but, despite the strength of feeling, they did not interfere with the vastly superior forces supporting the operation. The interruption of military relationships, however temporary, with the United States in particular was a more serious problem for the TNI-­ AL, since it meant the loss of some key sources of weapons and spare parts as well as training. Predictably, Indonesia abrogated the security pact with Australia. While distancing the military from politics, President Wahid also worked at making the services more professional and at strengthening the Navy and Air Force. Neither of these services had been as much part of Suharto’s ‘New Order’ as the Army and their relatively constrained funding had been one result.129 The new President wanted to improve maritime security, especially relating to resource protection. This included dealing with large-­scale illegal fishing and securing the Natuna Islands gas fields. Significant work and investment were involved, as only about 20 per cent of the Navy’s vessels were operational. The combination of the increasing average age of the units in service and the lack of funds was pressing hard on the TNI-­AL. Consequently, plans were announced for new patrol vessels and transport ships, as well as a growth in naval manpower from 52,000 to 70,000 and an increase in the Marine Corps from 13,000 to an eventual 24,000.130 This maritime and air focus was also evident in the US overtures to the Indonesian military in 2000. The noticeably early post-­East Timor rehabilitation by the US was aimed at the Navy, Marines and Air Force and excluded the Army from exercises.131 Initially, however, little or nothing came of President Wahid’s hopes for the TNI-­AL, primarily because of a continuing lack of funds. Rumoured plans for the creation of a third fleet for the extreme eastern provinces did not materialize and the expansion of the Marine Corps stalled.132 ­Nevertheless, re-­engining of the 16 Parchim class corvettes and six Ahmad Yani class (Van Speijk) class frigates did proceed.133 The ongoing failure to provide funds for new capability led Chief of Naval Staff Admiral Bernard Kent Sondakh in 2003 to focus the Navy’s efforts on coastal interdiction, primarily to ensure that the Navy retained

84   Indonesia the coastal protection role, rather than lose it with the formation of a coast guard. The Admiral also believed that this was the best way for the Navy to attract funding in the future.134 Consequently, the Navy announced the planned acquisition of locally built small patrol craft for coastal and straits patrolling in late 2003. Showing that long-­standing ambitions to upgrade combat capability remained alive, however, in October 2003 Admiral Sondakh announced the acquisition of two and possibly four, submarines from South Korea. They would each cost about US$270 million and be delivered in 2008.135 This selection and its accompanying timetable proved overly ambitious. Probably, the expense of the submarine project and the hard currency requirements proved too much for successive Indonesian administrations, notwithstanding the Navy’s continuing enthusiasm for the capability. The TNI-­AL staff tried later to explore other ways of funding the purchase, including talks with South Korea in 2008 aimed at an exchange of eight CN-­235 maritime patrol aircraft for two South Korean Type 209/1200 class submarines.136 They had little success, but the Navy was at least able to secure funding for refits of Cakra in South Korea between 2004 and 2006137 and for Nanggala at the same yard from 2009.138 Negotiations dragged on through the first decade of the new century, with several false starts. Indonesian media reported in October 2006 that the TNI-­AL intended to buy four Kilo class and two Amur class boats from Russia. Soon after, news emerged of a US$1 billion agreement covering the purchase of two of the submarines – most likely Kilos.139 This culminated in an expectation that the September 2007 visit to Indonesia of the Russian President, Vladimir Putin, would confirm an order for two Kilo class submarines with the prospect of more to follow,140 but nothing emerged. Despite high hopes in early 2009 of either a South Korean (probably the preferred option) or Russian purchase, by October that year the Chief of Naval Staff had been forced to accept a further delay in any order until at least 2011. There was simply not enough money available and other demands, particularly for maritime sealift, had higher government priorities.141 The long running saga appeared finally to have culminated with the December 2011 announcement that three Type 209 submarines will be bought from Daewoo of South Korea for a cost of US$1.1 billion.142 Two of the boats were to be built in South Korea and the third by PT PAL in Surabaya, with the first delivery expected to be in 2018. Through the first decade of the twenty-­first century, however, the TNI-­ AL’s efforts brought other successes. Apart from focusing on coastal protection, Admiral Sondakh rationalized the operational command structure, merging the two fleets into one entity, headquartered in Surabaya. Marine Corps numbers also began to grow, slowly, with the troop numbers expected to reach 22,000 by 2009.143 Other capability improvements included the 2004 order for four South Korean designed landing platform docks (LPD)144 and one for two Dutch-­built Sigma class corvettes in 2003.145,146 Additional patrol craft were being built locally and new

Indonesia   85 designs were also being evolved. More maritime patrol aircraft were acquired, including five extra Australian-­built Nomads.

The Indonesian Navy and Bakorkamla Admiral Sondakh had good reason to focus development efforts on the coastal protection role in 2003, because there was a growing demand for a more effective response to Indonesia’s domestic maritime security needs.147 Indonesia continued to face a uniquely difficult maritime security task, encompassing its vast 17,000 island archipelago and relying on inadequate naval and marine law enforcement assets. As noted by one authority, ‘The country has strong laws that cover coastal and marine resource management but they are poorly enforced.’148 A significant contribution to such poor enforcement of maritime laws was inadequate coordination of the responsible authorities, itself a result of unclear delineation of duties and responsibilities and consequent overlapping of activities.149 This problem was addressed in 1972, with the establishment of the Indonesia Maritime Security Coordinating Board (Bakorkamla) and a joint decree involving the Ministers for Defence and Security Affairs, Finance, Transportation and Judicial Affairs, Attorney General and Commander in Chief of the Army.150 Failure to achieve the desired results led to a restructuring of Bakor­ kamla in 2007.151 Nevertheless, in February 2009 the Minister for Maritime Affairs and Fisheries, Freddy Numberi, still had to tell a seminar that, ‘We have many maritime laws. However, they are disorganized and tend to overlap one another’.152 At the same seminar the Chief of the Navy, Admiral Tedjo Edhy Purdijanto noted that there were several ‘conflicting security forces, all dealing with their own separate issues’.153 The Admiral indicated that the Navy shared these responsibilities with marine units from the Police, Ministry of Fisheries, Bakorkamla – and others. Perhaps reflecting some exasperation with the long-­standing failure to manage maritime security effectively, Admiral Tedjo suggested the formation of a unified maritime security force or coast guard.154 This was a significant public comment, because, perhaps for the first time, it suggested an emerging preference within the TNI-­AL for the Navy to be outside the complex civil maritime security arrangements. A maritime border incident with Malaysia on 13 August 2010 exposed again the inadequacy of Indonesian maritime law enforcement. Malaysian Marine Police detained three Indonesian Marine and Fisheries Officers, who themselves were escorting a detained Malaysian fishing boat, apparently in Indonesian waters.155 In this case, there was again criticism of Bakorkamla’s inability to ‘safeguard the country’s coasts and marine territory’.156 Nevertheless, it remained unclear whether such incidents and the strong reaction to them could generate the degree of coordination and development of sea-­going forces needed to ensure Indonesian maritime

86   Indonesia sovereignty. There was evidence of political activity in 2010, with the President expected to sign a regulation for the merging of the civilian Sea and Coast Guard Unit of the Transportation Ministry with Bakorkamla,157 reducing the existing 13 authorities with some responsibility nominally to 12 – this would not be not a great change, but one that would indicate some progress.

A new realism in force development or more ambitions unfulfilled? Admiral Sondakh’s successor as Chief of the Indonesian Navy, Admiral Slamet Soebijanto, developed a plan in 2005 for a significant restructuring of the Navy, intended to build on the earlier work,158 but which took a different path to Sondakh’s. The existing force was to become three fleets, with overall command (the Panglima Armada) located in Surabaya. The individual fleets would be the Central Fleet based in Makassar, South Sulawesi, the Western Fleet, with headquarters relocated from Jakarta to Tanjung Pinang in Riau, and the Eastern Fleet, with its headquarters moved from Surabaya to Sorong in Papua. Plans for developing the Sorong base had existed since 2000 and it was expected to house up to 3,000 personnel.159 The restructuring was intended to make the Navy more flexible and responsive in protecting the nation’s archipelagic waters and its vital sea lanes.160 To this end, Admiral Soebijanto aimed to make the TNI-­AL an effective ‘green water’ navy by 2020. As the new plan was announced, the Indonesian Navy took delivery of some small and relatively unsophisticated maritime patrol aircraft including Polish P-­28s and Spanish designed NC-­ 212s. These aircraft were suitable for basic coastal patrolling and supplemented the small patrol boats in which the TNI-­AL continued to invest. Confirming that the Navy’s force structure was receiving some attention in other respects, two more Sigma class corvettes were ordered in 2006.161 Admiral Soebijanto’s long-­term plans for the TNI-­AL were ambitious. The number of bases was to expand from 25 to 59 (including 11 main bases) by 2024. More significantly, the force structure plan proposed an increase in the number of combat vessels to 274 as well as a naval aviation force of 137 aircraft; a mix of strike, patrol and support types. Additionally, the Marine Corps was to grow substantially by 2024.162 Initially at least, funding grew in support of the plans. The Navy budget increased from US$146.2 million in 2004 to US$296.9 million in 2005 and was to be US$473 million for 2006163 – heady times indeed, even if the overall funding remained small by comparison with neighbouring nations and the task which the TNI-­AL faced. Signs of a reversion to times past and over-­ambitious force planning came with suggestions that the Indonesian Navy would acquire a Sovremenny class guided missile destroyer from Russia, together with other smaller surface combatants and six Kilo or possibly Amur class

Indonesia   87 164

submarines. The prospect of increased funding also led to plans for new surface-­to-surface missiles including the CSS-­N-8 (C-­802), MM40 Exocet Block II, RGM/UGM-­84 Harpoon and SS-­N-26 BrahMos, to replace earlier versions of the Exocet. Two C-­802 ASMs were reportedly fitted to one of the PB-­57 class patrol craft in early 2008. This was a relatively inexpensive feasibility trial, with Western anti-­shipping missiles preferred for fleet-­wide fitting.165 Such an eclectic approach to equipment continued to bedevil the Indonesian Navy, creating logistics and training problems and inevitably adding to procurement and operating costs. In 2004, PT PAL announced a programme for indigenous corvette construction, which would depend on an overseas partner for the design and technical support.166 Several shipbuilders soon showed interest, but little progress was made. There were significant costs to such a scheme and, on PT PAL’s previous performance, a high level of risk, particularly as the yard’s limited resources were already committed to the construction of two of the South Korean designed LPDs. Plans were announced in April 2008 for the local construction of two additional corvettes, to supplement the Sigmas. This scheme was, of course, subject to the provision of funds and nothing more was heard for the next two years. Yet, increasingly capable patrol boats were now in series production in smaller Indonesian yards and beginning to replace some elderly craft. Simultaneously, future plans for the Marine Corps continued to demonstrate optimism, if not realism. A third brigade was formed; there were plans for a fourth and 32 new infantry combat vehicles were ordered. By 2024 the Corps was planned to comprise three groups, two independent brigades and a training command spread among five bases.167 As part of the expansion, an eighth and ninth battalion were formed in early 2004. Predictably, there was some nervousness within the Army over the Marine Corps’ expansion.168 These schemes were not matched by the necessary level of funding and Admiral Soebijanto made a plea in late 2007 for the additional vessels needed by the Navy for its national defence tasks. The Admiral declared that the Navy needed another 262 vessels of all types, beyond the 114 then in service. His claim was reinforced by two fatal accidents in late 2007 and early 2008, attributed at least in part to aged equipment. These incidents prompted the Chief of the Armed Forces, General Djoko Santoso to call for the withdrawal from service of major equipment more than 30 years old.169 Nevertheless, Defence Minister Juwono Sudarsono clarified his priorities in May 2008, emphasizing the need for additional transport capability so that the military could respond effectively to natural disasters.170 Thus, the third of four 11,400 t LPD amphibious transports was launched at PT PAL in August 2008 and commissioned in October 2009. Yet, official defence spending was still less than 1 per cent of GDP. With the Army and Air Force also making their claims, the TNI-­AL’s budgetary dilemma had yet to be solved.

88   Indonesia

Operations in the twenty-­first century The new millennium brought no profound changes in TNI-­AL employment, despite the reduction of the armed forces’ direct roles in government. The Navy remained preoccupied with internal security, including the continuing troubles in Aceh. A succession of natural disasters, notably the tsunami of December 2004, hit Indonesia hard and demanded significant effort by TNI-­AL maritime transport units. The efforts to modernize the amphibious and coastal patrol forces seemed all the more sensible in these circumstances. By 2002, the countries bordering the Malacca Strait were cooperating in, or at least coordinating anti-­piracy activities more effectively. The majority of such cooperation was still bilateral.171 One difficulty in managing relationships was that the littoral states had different threat perceptions. While Singapore was primarily worried about piracy, both Indonesia and Malaysia were more concerned with arms, drugs and people trafficking, and resource and environmental protection.172 Indonesia’s situation was also complicated by the continuing involvement of the ‘Free Aceh’ Movement in the hijacking of ships and the wider political implications of any formal response. Nevertheless, in July 2004, the Malsindo Malacca Strait Coordinated Patrols were set up with the Singaporean and Malaysian Navies and with the TNI-­AL actively involved. These patrols arguably contributed to reduced piracy and sea robbery in the region, along with the deaths of ‘Free Aceh’ elements in the 2004 Tsunami, and the later settlement reached with the Aceh insurgent movement. Coordinated Singapore and Indonesian naval patrols continued in the Singapore Strait. Military relations with the US were re-­established by the Bush administration relatively quickly. Most notably, after the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks and the declaration of the ‘War on Terror’, there was an imperative to gain Indonesian cooperation. In May 2002 the USN and Indonesian navies conducted a CARAT exercise in Indonesian waters.173 Like Malaysia, however, Indonesia was concerned with the possibility that Straits user states were promoting the piracy and terrorism threats to justify their long-­term presence in the region.174 Undoubtedly, this contributed to the very negative reaction to the American Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI) in 2004. International pressure, however, built for local action to reduce piracy in the Straits and adjacent seas. Lloyds’ Joint War Committee’s decision in 2005 to upgrade the insurance risk for the area was a further catalyst for coordinated if not cooperative patrolling in the Straits by the littoral states.175 Subsequently, Indonesia extended its participation in regional organizations with a focus on piracy, notably the trilateral Singapore–Malaysia– Indonesia ‘Eyes in the Sky’ air patrols since 2005, as well as the 16 member Regional Co-­operation Agreement on Anti-­Piracy in Asia.176 The focus of

Table 5.1  Indonesian Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

Type

1952

1962*

1972*

1982

1992

2002

2012

1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 N/A

Cruisers Destroyers Frigates Replenishment MPA AEW&C Submarines Corvettes Missile craft Torpedo craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Large patrol craft Small patrol craft Landing ships

–  1 – – – – –  4 – – – – 10 (8) 15 (10) –

 1  5  4  2

– (1) – (3)   4 (5)   1 (1)

– –  6  1

  6 (2)  2 – 21 – 14 18 20 11

–   1 (9)   1 (1) – (12)   6 (15) – 15 (7) 15 (14) 10 (15)  9

– – 10 (4)  2  4

  3 (1)   3 (1)  4 –(2)   8 (2)  4   4 + 74**   8 + 60** 14

 2  3  4 –  9  4 17 + 72** 18 + 63** 14

– – 11  3  5 –  2 19  4 – 10 12   8 + 78** 10 + 71** 26

– –  6  3  3 –  2 23  6 – 10  9 33 + 68**   0 + 71** 23 (8)

Sources: US Office of Naval Intelligence Review; Jane’s Fighting Ships; Combat Fleets of the World; Conway’s All the World’s Warships 1947–1982; The Military Balance. Notes Key: 2 = EFFECTIVE; (2) = INEFFECTIVE * Operational status for 1962–1972 period particularly difficult to determine with accuracy. ** Second figure refers to other maritime agencies (except police). Approximate estimates only in these categories.

90   Indonesia other regional arrangements in which Indonesia participated, such as the Western Pacific Naval Symposium (WPNS), was not simply piracy, but the whole range of current maritime security threats. Indonesia’s efforts to improve its contribution to regional maritime security included a network of coastal surveillance stations along the Makassar Strait, with the associated radar and communications equipment and much improved information exchange arrangements with both Singapore and Malaysia. Delivery of the US-­sourced equipment was scheduled to begin in 2008.177 Nevertheless, such developing relationships could be threatened by the flare up of unresolved maritime border problems. One dispute emerged between Malaysia and Indonesia in March 2005 over oil exploration licenses off the east coast of Borneo. The navies of both countries deployed warships to the area (seven in Indonesia’s case) and Indonesia also moved four F-­16 fighters to Balikpapan.178 Talks between the leaders of both countries averted conflict, but were tested by a minor collision between Indonesia’s Tedung Nada and the Malaysian Navy’s Renchong.179 Similarly, foreign illegal fishing remained an activity with the potential to cause tensions. In September 2005, a TNI-­AL unit fired on a Chinese vessel fishing illegally in the Arafura Sea, after the fishing boat refused to stop for inspection. One Chinese sailor was killed and two others wounded in the chase.180

Conclusion Indonesia’s Navy has rarely enjoyed smooth sailing in its relatively short life. It got much less assistance from its former colonial power than, for example, India received from the Royal Navy. Neither were its subsequent relationships with the major powers, nor even its neighbours, trouble free. Furthermore, its often over-­ambitious plans have been frequently stymied by the conflicting demands of providing internal security and a war-­ fighting force, further complicated by ever-­present funding shortfalls. Operating in the shadow of the dominant Army has also been a constant challenge, especially when combined with the longstanding national failure to acknowledge the uniquely maritime nature of the country and its internal and external security environment. A significant implication of unreliable funding was that it prevented the consistent acquisition of advanced technology and its benefits. It also limited the support available for whatever equipment was purchased and consequently impacted on the availability of training for both operators and maintainers. Ultimately, the funding problems prevented the Navy from getting the best out of its equipment – or even keeping it operational in some cases. During Suharto’s rule, both the Navy and the Air Force suffered with respect to the Army in the battle for defence funding. The TNI-­AL in the twenty-­first century has every prospect of being a much more important

Indonesia   91 part of the Indonesian military. Despite the continuing restrictions on funding, governments since the end of President Suharto’s rule have accorded the Navy a significantly higher priority for development than was the case before. This reflects the growing appreciation of the importance of its maritime resources to Indonesia, and the need to secure them. It also indicates the continuing government concern to ensure security within Indonesian waters against a range of threats including piracy and other illegal activities and natural disasters. Government policy in this regard has been focused by the need for the international trading community to have secure passage of shipping through Indonesian waters and the Malacca Strait in particular. This issue, together with continuing difficulties over maritime borders, has encouraged a more external outlook by the Indonesian Navy and an unprecedented, if still limited, degree of cooperation with neighbouring navies. Several comprehensive TNI-­AL development plans have been articulated in recent years. They have continued to reflect the underlying tension between the Navy’s aim to develop a more combat-­credible force, in line with regional aspirations and the accepted need to meet national internal security demands. The critical issue for the TNI-­AL in the immediate future will be whether it retains the major role in the internal security – good order at sea – role. Any move by the Navy to relinquish its primacy in this role would represent both an acceptance that some other organization (such as Bakorkamla) may be better placed to do so and a growing confidence that its main warfighting role will sustain it in the contest for resources within the Indonesian military. The TNI-­AL will continue to be hindered by these pressures and by the apparently endless repetition of funding crises confronting Indonesia’s military. Nevertheless, the plans in place, the priority accorded to the TNI-­AL by government and the entrenchment of democracy and better governance do suggest that the Indonesian Navy will play an even more important part in the nation’s future security than it has thus far.

6 The Royal Malaysian Navy

The RMN is a service under strain. While it has developed an increasingly comprehensive view of its roles, it has long struggled with a mismatch between resources and tasking. The Navy has sought to combine sub-­ surface, surface and helicopter forces into a force structure designed for its maritime environment but, presence and surveillance being the priority, the RMN had to accept for many years that a sub-­surface capability was outside its capacity. A long-­standing conflict between the Navy’s war fighting role and the need to patrol a large EEZ ended, at least theoretically, with the late 2005 establishment of the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency (MMEA), but the RMN still finds itself allocating warships to security tasks. However, with the perception of a much-­reduced threat ‘down the Malay peninsula’, but continuing tensions on other borders, Malaysian defence planning is slowly acquiring a maritime focus and the submarine deficiency has recently been remedied, with the purchase of two units from France. This is only a start and the RMN will have to manage in a way that permits sustained development, rather than the fitful expansions evident in the past

Beginnings The RMN originated in the Straits Settlements Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve (SSRNVR) established on 27 April 1934 to assist the RN with the defence of Singapore. The years before 1939 saw the SSRNVR expand to more than 800 personnel, comprising Malay and Chinese ratings with British officers.1 With the diversion of Britain’s resources to face Germany, the SSRNVR offered obvious local potential, recognized on 4 September 1939 in the establishment of the Royal Navy (Malay Section) (RN(MS)) using a nucleus of volunteers from the SSRNVR. Simultaneously, the reserve force roles were expanded to include protection of the entire peninsula. A second unit was established in Penang and the SSRNVR renamed the Malay Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve (MRNVR).2 The RN(MS) and MRNVR personnel fought gallantly against the Japanese, suffering more than 200 casualties. Although many remained in

Malaysia   93 country after the fall of Singapore (some in resistance and ‘clandestine’ units), about 150 officers and men escaped to Ceylon and served in the Indian Ocean until the Japanese surrender in 1945. Shortsighted economic measures forced the disbandment of both RN(MS) and MRNVR in April 1947, despite more than 600 personnel reporting back after the Japanese surrender,3 but, within 12 months, British authorities reactivated a naval organization. This was to allow Singapore to contribute to the defence of the peninsula without arousing Malay sensitivities through the creation of large non-­Malay ground forces.4 The new navy comprised two separate but interdependent units, the Malayan Naval Force (MNF ) and the MRNVR. The MNF Barracks were established at Woodlands in Singapore and the RN provided a small force comprising landing craft, a small minelayer and seven seaward defence motor launches (SDML). The latter became the backbone of the service’s patrol forces for the next decade. Its first commander, Captain H.E.H. Nicholls RN, planned for a navy of 3,000 rather than for the initial target of 750 people. His approach would be justified by the rapid expansion needed in the 1960s.5 Recruiting began in 1949; by 1953 the first two Malayan officers were commissioned and in 1954 cadets began training in Britain.6 By this time, the MNF had been redesignated the RMN. A modest local building programme began in 1954 with a modified Ford class seaward defence vessel, completed in 1956. Named Panglima, this ship served as an ASW and seamanship training platform for many years.7 A women’s division, the Singapore Women’s Auxiliary Naval Service (SWANS), was formed in 1956.8 RMN small craft supplemented the British and Commonwealth naval forces during the Emergency operations against Communist insurgents. For cross-­training, officers and ratings were lent to major British, Australian and New Zealand units during local operations and major exercises. Thus, RMN personnel became at least superficially accustomed to larger ships than the force then possessed. The Admiralty intended that the RMN become the naval service of the federation of the states of Malaya, which was then under consideration, and which would be dominated socially and politically by the majority Malays. However, although the Malays had developed considerable pride in the all-­Malay, Royal Malay Regiment, the RMN was seen as wholly Singaporean and was thus viewed with suspicion. Alarmingly for the British, the Prime Minister of Malaya, Tunku Abdul Rahman, indicated that the new nation would not support the RMN, preferring to form its own service based at Port Swettenham (Port Klang). The implied inefficiencies and divisiveness were clear and the locally based British senior officers fought successfully to ensure that ‘this splendid little force’ would form the nucleus of any future ‘Malaysian’ service.9

94   Malaysia

The Royal Malayan Navy On 12 July 1958 the personnel and assets of the RMN transferred to Malaya. The latter assumed full financial control on 1 January 1959. The British provided a grant in aid of £4 million, including a modern coastal minesweeper (MSC) and four inshore minesweepers (MSI), permitting the retirement of some of the old SDMLs. Furthermore, British and Australian naval officers and technical personnel helped provide the RMN a core of expertise until its own people were selected and trained.10 Until 1967 command of the RMN was vested in either an officer from the RN (the first) or the RAN (his three successors). Administrative arrangements were initially simple. The Commander of the RMN, redesignated ‘Captain of the RMN’ in 1960 with the arrival of Captain W.J. Dovers, RAN, also functioned as Deputy Chief of Staff (Navy) within the Malaysian Defence Establishment. Captain Dovers ceased exercising command from Woodlands and joined the existing nucleus staff in the capital, Kuala Lumpur.11 This facilitated the Navy’s long-­range planning and liaison with the government. The Singapore connection was kept by MRNVR maintaining a separate local division, a force which was to assume new importance after the later separation of Singapore from the Federation of Malaysia. The RMN’s future roles and structure were examined closely as the likelihood of a successful federation of the various extra-­peninsular states increased. The long coastline, and the difficulties with land communications, dictated that the RMN would concentrate initially on coastal defence, anti-­ smuggling and anti-­insurgent operations. The considerable British naval presence obviated any need for larger ships, and government thinking initially reflected this. Even in 1964, during Confrontation, the then Minister of Defence, Tun Abdul Razak, declared that the defence task was ‘to help our Police in the maintenance of law and order inside our country and inside our territorial waters and to undertake close defence of our country should there be any minor [italics in original] aggression against us.’12 The prospect of adding Singapore, Sabah and Sarawak to the armed forces’ responsibilities meant that the RMN had to become more ambitious. Apart from the doubled coastal defence requirement, there was now the need to protect sea communications between the dispersed states. Tun Razak’s belief that the new Federation should possess the forces to deal with minor aggression increased the possibility of the Navy acquiring an offshore trade defence capability. Thus, with Federation on 16 September 1963, the new political entity required not only a change in the name of the RMN to the ‘Royal Malaysian Navy’ but redefinition of its future.

Federation and confrontation From 1960 to 1962, Captain Dovers produced Plan Maiden, which was rapidly overtaken by events when Indonesia declared its opposition to

Malaysia   95 13

federation and intent to ‘Crush Malaysia’ by armed action. Maiden envisaged progressive expansion of the RMN to a force of 1,500 men and a fleet comprising two squadrons of fast patrol boats, a squadron of fast attack craft (FAC) and extra minesweepers. Execution was in two phases, with the patrol craft to be acquired first. The RMN intended to acquire a light frigate later.14 The plan assumed that ‘Malayanization’ should take place as soon as possible, with the minimum use of expatriate personnel, and an RMN officer in command of the Navy by 1970. Under the pressure of Confrontation, Maiden mutated into Plan Dynamo, completed in 1963 and itself revised in 1964 and 1965.15 These revisions sped up the planned expansion in small craft and added amphibious vessels for cooperation with the Army. Larger units were still to be acquired only for training purposes.16 The RMN received a Loch class frigate from the RN in 1964.17 Renamed Hang Tuah, the ship was fitted with a helicopter deck and accommodation for use by the King of Malaysia and the Cabinet. Its real purpose was to provide training for the RMN, but the Hang Tuah and her facilities had an undeniable appeal to the government. Tun Razak remarked that a frigate was necessary ‘for the sake of dignity and also for the sake of our country’.18 Purchasing new ships had a lower priority, particularly as contemporary RN frigates were too large and expensive for the RMN. Meanwhile, the RMN’s heavy commitment to Confrontation patrols resulted in further transfers of coastal minesweepers in 1964 and in successive buys of fast patrol craft. Six Kedah class boats were ordered in September 1961 and, in 1963, as they were entering service, four more were ordered. Until this point, RMN acquisitions had been confined to vessels configured for surveillance but, in November 1964, four FAC were ordered from the UK.19 Since these very fast vessels could carry torpedoes or mines (and some personnel for clandestine operations) they marked the beginning of an offensive capability.

The separation of Singapore Singapore proved to be the wildcard within the Federation. Political relations between the Malays and the Singaporean Chinese soon deteriorated so much that their leaders agreed to the secession of the island from the Federation. Separation was not simple for the RMN. Apart from the need to allot ships, personnel and facilities to the newly independent state, the RMN faced losing its major operational base. Both governments, however, agreed that Woodlands would remain an enclave within Singapore, with Malaysia paying a nominal rent. Although the Singapore division of the Reserve was immediately incorporated into Singapore’s embryo defence forces, the RMN was naturally reluctant to release active personnel and patrol vessels until Confrontation had ended. The separation of naval forces was finally complete in May 1967, with the transfer of the patrol vessel Panglima.20

96   Malaysia

Further expansion The Kedah class fast patrol boats proved so useful in Confrontation operations and in general work that the RMN ordered 14 more, slightly improved Kris class units in 1965.21 Two additional Ton class coastal minesweepers and two Ham class inshore minesweepers arrived in 1966 to offset the disposal of the original four Hams, whose wooden hulls had deteriorated beyond economical repair. Less satisfactory progress was achieved with larger ships. The RMN proposed a force of three frigates, configured for anti-­surface ship operations, for the defence of sea communications between east and west Malaysia. Despite the naval staff ’s ‘strongest representations’,22 the Government allowed only the order for one 1,600 t frigate from the United Kingdom in 1966. This was a relatively advanced Yarrows design for a small general purpose frigate, incorporating modern weapon systems such as the Seacat missile and combined diesel and gas propulsion. At £4 million, the new Hang Jebat seemed the answer to the RMN’s requirements and limited budget. The venture was, however, beset by problems. Hang Jebat was the first of her kind: Yarrows had no previous experience with the design and neither the shipbuilder nor the RMN could rely upon RN expertise in problem solving. Construction should have taken little more than two and a half years, yet the ship was not completed until the middle of 1971. By then her name had been altered to Rahmat in an attempt to change her luck. The affair was the cause ‘of many harsh words and bitter relations’ and coloured the RMN’s attitude to Britain as a source of new ships for some years.23

After Confrontation The end of the conflict with Indonesia in August 1966 provided much needed respite for the RMN. Continuing problems with Communist insurgents in northern peninsular Malaya and unrest elsewhere within the Federation imposed a steady patrol requirement, but the RMN could now plan for a navy not completely committed to anti-­infiltration work. The Malaysian government did not seriously expect a large-­scale British presence to continue for more than a decade after the end of Confrontation,24 but the sudden British announcement of complete withdrawal in July 1967 was a shock. The complex negotiations that followed between Malaysia and Singapore and the British, Australians and New Zealanders finally produced the 1971 FPDA, and confirmed that the RMN would need to be much more active in external defence. Appropriately, the first Malaysian Chief of Naval Staff, Commodore Karalasingam Thanabalasingam took office on 1 January 1967. His appointment had been hastened by the awkwardness, during the difficulties with Singapore, of having an Australian head of Service, who was ‘often

Malaysia   97 excluded from the decision making processes’. The government initially looked to the Army for the first chief, but the senior officers concerned had the good sense to duck the nomination. Although young and relatively inexperienced, Thanabalasingham was undoubtedly the right choice.25 Thanabalasingam appreciated the RMN’s limited capacity for expansion. Furthermore, continuing internal security problems made the Army the first priority, while the RMN would be required to maintain a substantial inshore and riverine patrol capability.26 Thanabalasingam realized, however, that Malaysia’s operational environment favoured small craft and that developments in surface-­to-surface missile technology could allow the RMN to create a cheap but capable force of missile craft as a ‘coastal defence’ capability.27 In 1971, initial entry officer training, which had largely been conducted in the UK, was patriated. Officer and sailor training was combined in the Cadet and Recruit Training Establishment and commissioned as Kapal Diraja (KD) Pelandok in August 1971. The RMN needed a new fleet base, separate from Singapore, and capable of supporting future expansion of the Navy. The facilities problem was partially solved with a shipyard capable of building and repairing warships. A joint venture was begun near Penang at Butterworth, involving the West German firm, Lürssen. Despite an uncertain start, the RMN committed to the facility for the long term and, in 1972, ordered six fast patrol craft. The location of the fleet base itself had not yet been decided. The RMN wanted a site on the west coast of Malaya at Lumut, but there was political pressure favouring a base on the Johore Straits. Apart from its proximity to Singapore, a base there would have left the Malaysians with no case for retaining Woodlands. Thus, it made more sense to create a wholly separate facility. Thanabalasingam’s initial plans were largely overtaken by the government’s reaction to the serious internal disturbances which took place in May 1969.28 Malaysia began a major expansion of its armed forces. To his surprise, Thanabalasingam was directed to increase the strength of the RMN by 30 per cent over the next three to four years,29 including, most significantly, the purchase of missile armed attack craft. The RMN had been closely interested in the development of the French Exocet missile and it adopted a two-­stage approach. Six Exocet armed La Combattante IID missile armed fast attack craft (FAC-­M) were ordered in August 1970 and the four Perkasa class FAC fitted with the SS-­12 missile in the interim.30 The RMN began practising anti-­surface ship tactics and did so in the sophisticated environment of the massive FPDA exercise Bersatu Padu in June 1970.31 The future fleet base location was resolved in 1971 by commissioning a West German firm to produce an independent study, which found firmly in favour of Lumut. Detailed planning began in 1972 and construction started in 1973.32 The 1,800 acre development was planned as a total

98   Malaysia package for the RMN, combining fleet base, training establishments and naval dockyard. Work was sufficiently advanced for the schools to open at Lumut in 1979. They were followed by the Fleet Command and the Fleet Operations Centre in 1983 and the entire facility was operational by 1986.33 An advanced base to cover the South China Sea was completed at Kuantan in 1981.

Towards a concept of regional defence The next decade saw two related developments. First, closer military relations were developed with some of Malaysia’s neighbours. Seven RMN units commanded by (now) Rear Admiral Thanabalasingam visited Indonesia in 1970. In 1971, the Indonesian Chief of Naval Staff proposed ‘a joint naval exercise in the Malacca Strait to foster better relations and co-­operation’.34 The first of what became the annual Malindo series of exercises occurred in 1972, enabling the progressive development of joint procedures. Indonesia and Malaysia negotiated arrangements for cooperative anti-­piracy and anti-­smuggling patrols, which notably included provision for the hot pursuit of suspect vessels into each other’s territorial waters.35 Although relationships with the RTN took longer to mature (the first formal bilateral exercise was held in 1979)36 they were nonetheless cordial. The exception was the Philippines. Incidents in 1968 and Filipino claims on Sabah created ongoing tensions between the two countries.37 Progress with Indonesia was driven by the perception of the two countries’ mutual interests in the Malacca Strait. The increasingly busy waterway was assuming greater strategic significance. This was recognized by the establishment of the Malacca Strait Council in 1968, comprising the littoral states and Japan. In 1969, Malaysia extended its territorial sea from three to 12 miles. Its small hydrographic service also received a consider­ able boost with the purchase of a Ton class minesweeper adapted for surveying. Surveys were conducted in the Malacca Strait and the Navy’s control of Malaysian hydrography and oceanography was formally recognized by the Cabinet in 1972.38 A second, larger survey vessel was ordered in early 1975 from Hong Leong Lürssen in Butterworth.

Further expansion – more demands The RMN by the mid 1970s had achieved considerable but qualified progress. After further disputes between the RMN and the shipbuilders, the frigate Rahmat finally arrived in country in 1972. Recruiting and retaining sufficiently skilled technical personnel remained a constant difficulty. Rahmat’s late arrival had affected the Navy’s practical training and expertise in offshore operations remained low. There was also block obsolescence. Both Hang Tuah and the Ton class minesweepers required

Malaysia   99 replacement, an expensive process, particularly for mine countermeasures vessels (MCMV). Simultaneously, operational demands were increasing. After the reunification of Vietnam in 1975, refugees streamed south from Indo-­China. Having to monitor their passage, render assistance and, above all, prevent fishing craft from turning into ‘pirates of opportunity’ ‘placed a heavy burden’ on the RMN.39 The long-­term consequence was the delayed reduction of the patrol boat force in favour of the larger combatants and patrol vessels which the RMN now required. Some acquisitions proved possible. Two LSTs were transferred from the US in 1974 to support light forces. A further four Exocet-­armed FAC were ordered in 1976, from Sweden. The purchase was controversial, largely because the ordering process was allegedly shrouded in secrecy, but the government dealt harshly with such criticism. The Leader of the Opposition was tried and convicted under the Official Secrets Act in 1978 for ‘the receipt and communication of information about the official specifications’ of the four ships.40 In 1977, the UK offered Malaysia a small frigate, originally built for Ghana. This very simple ship added little to the fleet’s combatant capabilities, but became a useful training platform, taking the name of the old Hang Tuah which was scrapped.

Uncertainty in South-­East Asia South Vietnam’s defeat was among several disturbing developments of the mid-­1970s, including China’s assertion of claims in the South China Sea. Such willingness to employ force in territorial issues worried Malaysia, which was determined to protect its claims in the Spratly Islands. Although the Malaysians were the first in ASEAN to recognize the ­People’s Republic in 1974, China would remain a factor in Malaysia’s threat assessments. In December 1978 a new element was added with the Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia. This raised the prospect of Vietnam as a regional hegemon and Malaysia feared that Thailand would be the next to fall, before an overland invasion of the Malayan peninsula.41 In 1981, such concerns, as well as the adventurism being displayed by the USSR in South Asia brought, partially through Australian efforts, revitalization of the FPDA for regional defence. The Starfish series of exercises began that year, generally involving all the FPDA states. Starfish progressively increased in size and sophistication and soon became important for all participants.42 In 1979, the Deputy Defence Minister announced long-­term plan Perista for the expansion of the armed forces, to be incorporated in the regular national Five Year Plans, the fourth of which began in 1981. Perista gave obvious priority to the Army for the defence of Malaya but recognized maritime interests and developments in the law of the sea. The Malaysian Armed Forces were to acquire capabilities which would include:

100   Malaysia • •

a nucleus conventional capability to defeat limited external aggression and be a holding force against major aggression until external assistance could be obtained; and the capacity to conduct simultaneous operations in Malaya, Sabah and Sarawak; secure the lines of communications between the states of Malaysia; and protect Malaysia’s offshore interests.43

New capabilities for the Navy This declaration of capabilities confirmed the new approach of Thanabalasingam’s successor as Chief of the Navy, Rear Admiral Mohammed Zain bin Mohammed Saleh. In 1980 he declared that ‘the Navy must change its present operational concept from that of coastal patrolling to . . . ocean surveillance.’44 Zain’s concept of an oceanic RMN centred on the acquisition of two logistics support ships, four corvettes, new mine countermeasure vessels to replace the aged Ton class and, in the long term, submarines.45 Orders for the support ships were placed in 1979 and 1981. In February 1981, the RMN arranged for the construction of two corvettes in Germany and four minehunters in Italy. All three projects proceeded smoothly, with the Kasturi class (FS 1500) corvettes entering service in 1984 and the Mahamiru class (modified Lerici) minehunters in 1985. In 1980, Malaysia formally declared a 200 mile EEZ, which encompassed much of the disputed Spratlys and covered a zone of nearly 600,000 square kilometres.46 The RMN assumed responsibility for law enforcement outside the 12 nm territorial sea and vetoed the creation of a separate coast guard, despite the existence of capable and growing Police and Customs forces.47 The rationale was simple. Many RMN units would have to be transferred with crews and support infrastructure to any new service, markedly reducing the Navy’s strength. Despite the advantages of losing the demanding and resource intensive surveillance role,48 such a reduction of personnel and assets could be traumatic, affecting the RMN’s capacity to expand.

Arrested development? The RMN found, however, that further implementation of Perista proved impossible because of an economic recession in the 1980s, which worsened later in the decade.49 There were insufficient funds to purchase the planned additional corvettes or more MCMV. The RMN diverted lead items ordered for the cancelled corvettes to a pair of much cheaper OPV, easing the shortage of ocean-­going surveillance units. But these two units proved to be the only new construction ordered until 1992. The result was increasing block obsolescence. Other arms of the RMN were also ageing. A half-­life programme for the fast patrol craft could not disguise their increasing age or the need for their replacement, a problem highlighted when KD Sri Perak foundered in a storm in January 1985, with the loss of three sailors.50

Malaysia   101 This issue determined the direction which the RMN eventually took. Most regional maritime powers were modernizing their navies and the RMN appreciated that its maritime warfare capabilities were fundamentally ‘one legged’.51 The Naval Staff generated two requirements, first for a submarine force of eight units, initially to be based at Labuan, with access to the South China Sea. The second was for a two squadron force of medium ASW helicopters.52 But both requirements had to fit within very limited budgets in an improving strategic situation. Malaysia’s first concerns were internal security and development, and the government sharply restricted the armed forces’ growth within the 1986–1990 Five Year Plan. The RMN itself was hit by swingeing cutbacks in 198653 which further limited its options.

The South China Sea factor Nevertheless, the Chief of the Navy from 1986, Vice Admiral Abdul Wahab bin Haji Nawi, pressed the need to prepare for contingencies within the South China Sea, formulating a concept of ‘forward defence’ which relied on a submarine force ‘since surface ships will find it difficult to survive in the face of enemy air superiority’.54 The RMN’s case was strengthened by the situation in the Spratlys becoming more uncertain. Malaysia itself had begun to garrison islands within its claim in 1983 (Layang Layang Reef ) and followed this with amphibious exercises.55 Further units were placed on other islands in 1986 (Ubi and Mantanani Reefs).56 Progressive rapprochement between China and the USSR raised the prospect of China diverting resources to its Navy to secure its southern waters.57 Through the 1980s, more evidence of this emerged in Chinese rhetoric and PLA-­N activities.58 In February and March 1988 Chinese and Vietnamese ships exchanged fire near the Spratlys.59 Malaysia ‘announced that it would intensify patrols’ in response60 and soon after was involved in its own diplomatic dispute with the Philippines over fishing rights. These exchanges came when Malaysia was facing the prospects of a US draw-­ down in the Western Pacific and the consequent removal of the de facto maritime security umbrella which had been provided by the American Seventh Fleet. The maritime balance was changing, not necessarily in Malaysia’s favour.61 To the west, India was pursuing a more active security role; this posed no direct threat to Malaysia but it added uncertainty. Simultaneously, the South China Sea was growing in importance as a primary trade route for Malaysia and many other countries.

Fighting for a submarine force China’s large-­scale but unsophisticated forces made the high technology solution of a small deterrent force of submarines attractive to a Navy which could never match Chinese numbers. The RMN planned second-­hand

102   Malaysia transfers from friendly powers to build submarine capability, as a prelude to buying new. The merits were obvious: it would avoid prohibitive capital expenditure and ‘ensure that we will have trained personnel to operate new ones to be purchased in the future, and also to train technical and base staff to provide support services’.62 Furthermore, any under-­water capability would be better than none. So eager was the RMN to start the process that it was ‘willing to trade any number of future surface combatants for just one submarine . . . a submarine arm will introduce a strategic dimension to the RMN’s role. The deterrent effect of just one torpedo-­armed submarine is incalculable and far exceeds that of highly-­visible surface combatants’.63 Nevertheless, while willingness to forego surface ship acquisition was a powerful factor in impressing the Navy’s desire for submarines on the government, if no submarines were purchased, the RMN might receive nothing at all. Second, ‘friendly powers’ such as Britain or France, which could provide rehabilitated submarines and aircraft and their associated support packages, were likely to do so only if Malaysia were also fully committed to new construction. Finding sufficient funds for this remained the RMN’s difficulty. The acquisition of helicopters to establish a Fleet Air Arm occurred in the atmosphere of a 1988 MOU between Malaysia and the UK, which postulated a large-­scale purchase of arms, notably the Tornado fighter ground attack aircraft.64 The transfer of six ‘used’ Wasp helicopters, with an option for six more, was cheap in relation to the other orders being arranged. The RMN was also expected to select the British Lynx helicopter, funds permitting, when the limited life of the Wasps expired. The submarine project proved more awkward. Packages involving the transfer of one or two rehabilitated boats as training units with follow on new construction of up to eight hulls (‘up to four . . . were more generally spoken of as the likely buy’)65 were offered by the British, the French, the Germans, the Dutch and the Swedes. Both the British and the Swedes almost agreed to contracts with Malaysia. Malaysia’s hesitation was highlighted in July 1989 by the Chief of Defence Force, who emphasized that Malaysia ‘cannot rush into making a decision now. We will make it at the appropriate time.’66 Clearly, creating a submarine force would be very expensive and would have to be done within the provenance of the Sixth Five Year Plan (1991–1995) considering the other services’ requirements.67 Despite this caution, the RMN enacted a 20-year Expansion and Modernization Program (1990–2010) aimed at doubling the Navy’s size. A commitment to submarines would have to be balanced against other requirements. The two old frigates and the patrol boats now needed urgent replacement. Within the programme, provision was made for the surface combatant, patrol and submarine forces68 and negotiations began with the British for the purchase of light frigates under the MOU arrangements.69 There were also plans for a naval base at Kota Kinabalu in Sabah.70

Malaysia   103

The surface Navy returns Malaysia finally admitted in 1991 that a submarine force was unaffordable. The Minister for Defence noted in August that ‘We cannot afford submarines at present’71 and that such a buy was ‘some 15 years away’, which meant deferral until at least the Ninth (2006–2010) Five Year Plan.72 This still allowed the Navy to purchase two light frigates from Britain to replace Rahmat and Hang Tuah, and begin an OPV building programme in Malaysia. Six OPVs were to be built within every Five Year Plan, for a total of 18 by 2005 – with the probability of six more units to follow. Significantly, the OPV commitment effectively acknowledged the RMN’s progressive withdrawal from the coastal and inshore patrol function, a logical step in view of the increasing size and expertise of the Royal Malaysian Police and the Customs and Excise Force. The reconstruction of the RMN as a balanced force needed other elements in the Five Year Plans. Up to ‘34 fast attack craft’ were acknowledged as necessary elements of the future fleet73 but were not provided for, despite the age of the existing force. Nor had commitment yet been made to additional mine countermeasure vessels or to the medium helicopters which would be so important to any surface combatant force and which could replace the Wasps.

Malaysia’s OPVs – how to make a project last Earlier support for the OPVs was reinforced in February 1994 by claims that 27 were needed for protection of shipping. Responses to the pre-­ qualification tender were sought from interested shipbuilders by 3 February 1995. The ships were to be built in four batches over 20 years, with the first to enter service around 1998.74 The Australian Government agreed to fund half of the project design phase for Transfield Shipbuilding, because the RAN would soon need replacements for its Fremantle class patrol boats.75 This followed earlier inconclusive Malaysian interest in a joint Malaysia-­Australia design for the OPV.76 The six short-­listed bidders expected requests for proposals for the second phase of the project by mid-­1996.77 There was considerable speculation as to likely weapons fits, including systems such as vertical launch surface-­to-air missiles which could make the ships unaffordable.78 Delays marked the project, however, and by mid-­1997 the potential shipbuilders were increasingly doubtful as to whether the OPVs would ever be built.79 Ultimately, the German Naval Group, led by Blohm and Voss, was selected in October 1997 to design and build locally (with a Malaysian partner) an initial batch of six MEKO 100 corvette variants.80 Reflecting its strong desire for national development Malaysia sought significant local participation in its naval projects.81 For the OPV, 30 per cent of the work was to be carried out by Malaysian companies and 70 per cent

104   Malaysia of the programme value was to be invested by foreign vendors in the Malaysian economy. Technology transfer was sought across all aspects of the project from systems integration to trials and testing.82 The contract signing was delayed beyond July 1998, and slow progress in preparing the Lumut shipyard for local production of hulls three to six did not help.83 Thus, hulls one and two were expected to be delayed beyond the original 2003 delivery schedule, confirmed when the build contract, signed on 5 September 1998,84 was eventually agreed in November 2000, signaling delivery of the first OPV in late 2004.85 Steel was finally cut on 7 June 2001.

Other surface ship sagas With submarines once more firmly in the background, the RMN allocated a high priority to its surface combatant force. It continued, however, a long-­standing but disruptive pattern of sourcing vessels from several countries. To ships and patrol craft designed in France, Sweden, South Korea and Italy, the RMN added the German-­designed OPVs and frigates and the two new Lekiu class frigates being built in the UK.86 The first of these was launched in Scotland in December 1994.87 Combat system integration problems, in this case the result of limited development time and narrow technical specifications,88 delayed delivery of the Lekius and by May 1997 Malaysian Defence Minister Syed Hamid Albar had considered claiming compensation. Ultimately, KD Lekiu, the first of class, was commissioned on 7 October 1999 and sailed for home later that month.89 The second ship, KD Jebat followed soon after. Completing the picture, the RMN announced in September 1997 that the two FS 1500 Kasturi class frigates would get mid-­life upgrades.90 In October 1995, the RMN agreed to the opportunity purchase of two Assad class missile corvettes (Laksamana class in RMN service), built in Italy for the Iraqi Navy but never delivered. They were commissioned in July 1997 and the RMN later took a second pair; the last being delivered in August 1999.91 All four carried sensors and weapons not already common to the RMN.92 Consequently, the RMN faced either extensive and potentially prolonged upgrading of the ships, or the complications of additional supply chains and training courses. The process by which the quartet was acquired may have owed much more to political influence and business interests than to the Navy’s operational requirements. Other elements were also receiving attention, consistent with the more outward looking focus of Malaysian security. In 1994 the RMN bought a second-­hand USN Newport County class LST for US$18.3 million. Sri Inderapura was already 24 years old, but apparently guaranteed to provide a further 15 years service without a major overhaul.93 Sri Inderapura significantly boosted RMN amphibious lift capacity, but as the RMN was to discover, her material condition was not as good as had been expected.

Malaysia   105 Thus, as it prepared for the twenty-­first century, the RMN was accumulating a relatively capable and numerically significant surface force. Yet the Navy’s inability to source its warships more narrowly meant that it had also introduced interoperability, logistics and training challenges which would strain the capacity not just of the RMN, but of the country as a whole.

Malaysian naval aviation – a modest start Malaysian naval aviation began with the six ex-­RN Westland Wasp HAS 1 ASW helicopters acquired in 1988, and later supplemented by six more for spare parts. Malaysia also bought four Beechcraft B 200T medium-­ range maritime patrol aircraft for the Royal Malaysian Air Force (RMAF ). Although intended to allow PC-­130 aircraft, modified for maritime patrol, to revert to their troop transport roles, the limited range of the Beech B 200Ts demanded the continuing use of the PC-­130s94 and the installation of maritime surveillance radars in these aircraft.95 The RMN recognized the need for more capable helicopters to operate from all of its larger surface combatants. By the mid-­1990s, the Super Lynx and SH-­2G Seasprite were contenders. On 3 September 1999 the RMN contracted to buy six Westland Super Lynx 300 helicopters to replace the remaining Wasps.96 Additional Aerospatiale Fennec helicopters were ordered in 2001, primarily for training, but also for over-­the-horizon targeting. All were delivered by 2004.

Submarines and a changing outlook Despite earlier disappointments, the RMN never lost sight of its long-­ standing objective to acquire submarines. The programme gained new life late in the 1990s; not least because Singapore had decided to develop a submarine arm, Thailand was believed to have similar plans, and Indonesia was considering upgrading its own force.97 Once again, however, the RMN’s hopes were crushed in the Asian economic crisis which curtailed Thai and Indonesian plans as well as Malaysia’s.98 The setback was not permanent. The RMN’s ambitions were helped by the region’s recovery from the 1997–1998 financial crisis; defence spending declined by about 20 per cent from 1997, but slow growth resumed in 2000. The RMN remained determined to raise a submarine force and achieving this was becoming a more realistic prospect. Underscoring that determination, it was still sending people overseas for training. Pakistan, Turkey, India and Australia all contributed to the building of submarine operating knowledge within the RMN.99 Early in 2000 there were yet more reports suggesting that the Eighth Malaysia Plan could include provision for submarine acquisition. A growing national desire for a more capable navy reflected economic growth, a desire for greater control over offshore zones and the rise of

106   Malaysia other regional maritime powers.100 The changing security outlook included awareness of the need to be able to defend disputed islands and their waters, in the South China Sea and elsewhere, because of their natural resources potential.101 This led to the establishment by Malaysia and the Philippines of a joint commission in July 1993,102 which dealt inter alia with maritime security cooperation. A similarly tasked joint commission was established by Malaysia and Brunei at about the same time.103 Yet, despite such arrangements, ongoing failure to resolve competing claims showed the potential for conflict. For example, the Philippines protested Malaysian activity on Investigator Shoal in the South China Sea during 1999.104 Similarly, maritime disputes with Indonesia and Thailand led occasionally to violent incidents.105 The new focus also reflected strong growth in ASEAN flag merchant shipping and energy-­dependent economic development in East and South-­East Asia. These trends increased the importance of the Straits of Malacca and Singapore for global shipping and emphasized the need to ensure the safety and security of Malaysia’s sea lines of communications and of international shipping passing through Malaysia’s waters.106 In 1993 Malaysia established surveillance and command and control facilities on Bukit Pengerang, overlooking the Singapore Strait.107 Malaysia and Indonesia also agreed to establish a joint team to coordinate non-­defence activities in their maritime border areas.108 This agreement included a schedule for the Malindo coordinated patrol in the Strait of Malacca.109 More substantial measures followed with the recovery from the economic crisis and as local piracy began to threaten shipping. Nevertheless, Malaysia remained wary of any direct involvement by external nations in providing sea lanes security, rejecting a Japanese offer towards the end of 2000.110 Growing enthusiasm among local navies for bilateral and even multilateral cooperation resulted in a web of exercises with the other FPDA partners,111 as well as other South-­East Asian navies.112 One example was the Malapura series with the RSN, the eighth of which was conducted in July 1993.113 In early 1995, for the first time, the RMN committed two sea lift ships, KD Mahawangsa and KD Sri Inderapura, to the UN Special Naval Task Force in Somalia.114 The RMN also proposed an avoidance of incidents at sea pact with neighbouring states, beginning with Indonesia, to which the latter agreed in January 2001.115 Furthermore, Malaysia worked on improving navy-­to-navy relations with China, conscious of the need to resolve amicably the contending claims in the South China Sea.116

Infrastructure – the other Navy At the turn of the century the RMN comprised five major commands: Fleet Operations, Naval Support, Naval Education and Training, Naval Reserve and the National Hydrography Centre.117 As the Navy’s sea-­going capabilities grew, it needed more shore infrastructure and sought funding

Malaysia   107 in the Seventh Malaysian Plan to provide new training facilities.118 Having to replace the schools located for many years at Woodlands in Singapore was an additional burden. Ultimately, sharply rising rents forced Malaysia’s exit in 1998.119 The replacement facility at Tanjung Pengelih in Johor state was delayed because of substandard construction work but was eventually commissioned at the end of 1999. Other developments included the new major naval base at Teluk Sepanggar, on Sandakan Bay near Kota Kinabalu in Sabah, anticipated to cost US$400 million.120 This base was to become the RMN’s second biggest and reflected the focus on the South China Sea and the maritime borders of East Malaysia.121 Confirmation of the resilience of the RMN’s submarine ambitions came in reports in May 2000 that if a purchase did eventuate, new facilities would be built in Teluk Sepanggar.122 Plans were also announced for bases at Langkawi and Sejingkat as well as a new National Hydrography Centre.123

Malaysia’s OPVs – the saga continues Fabrication work on the first two OPVs progressed well in Germany; the first leaving for Malaysia in a heavy lift ship in April 2003, followed by the second in October.124 Both ships were to be fitted out at the Penang Shipbuilding and Construction (PSC) Naval Dockyard at Lumut, under German supervision. Two years later, the bad news emerged. PSC had overspent on the project without completing the work. In September 2005 the government took control of the dockyard and declared that the first OPV would be delivered in January 2006 –subject to the provision of additional funding.125 Subsequently, with the dockyard now belonging to Boustead Holdings,126 the first OPV (KD Kedah) was provisionally accepted on 3 April 2006. The second, Pahang, was commissioned on 3 August 2006 but problems remained. The Dockyard claimed that the third OPV (the first locally built) would be delivered in 2007, while the Malaysian Public Accounts Committee was calling for resolution of financial and other related project issues. Apparently, the government had already spent US$1.46 billion on the programme but had yet to decide to allocate additional funds to complete OPVs three to six.127 Nevertheless, KD Kedah and Pahang were both deployed to Teluk Sepanggar. Matters were resolved by the end of 2006 and Boustead stated publicly in December that the remaining four OPVs would be delivered within three years. This was confirmed by a government announcement that US$143.2 million had been allocated for their completion. Just one year later, however, the first two OPVs reportedly continued to suffer defects and breakdowns. This was not unusual for a new class of warships, yet it reflected a deeper problem. In September 2006 the Malaysian Auditor General criticized the Ministries of Defence and Finance for releasing progress payments even though required conditions had not been

108   Malaysia fulfilled. Equally seriously, the Auditor General’s report found that the Dockyard had no prior experience in building ships larger than small tugboats and police craft.128 Malaysia was paying the price for developing domestic industry at a pace that was challenging the country’s capacity. Nevertheless, the third OPV was launched in November 2007. Boustead remained confident that the additional 21 ships would be built, while others suggested that the problems with the first batch and competing priorities might well prevent this ever happening.129 Boustead gained some certainty with the 24 November 2008 government announcement, coinciding with the naming of the fifth OPV, Kelantan,130 that the second batch of six would be built. Nevertheless, the RMN Chief of Naval Staff began 2009 by criticizing the failure of the first two OPVs to maintain a high level of operational readiness. The sixth unit, KD Selangor, was launched on 23 July 2009 and on the following day, the Prime Minister announced that the RMN would get 18 OPVs, with the remaining 12 ships being built during the next two five year plans.131

Consolidating the surface fleet While the OPV project progressed slowly the RMN tried to improve the capability of its existing fleet. In April 2002 the Navy awarded a contract to AMS – a joint venture between BAE Systems and Finmeccanica – for a combat system upgrade for two of the four Laksamana class corvettes. This was timely, as both ships were almost 20 years old, but it left the other two Laksamanas unmodified. Meanwhile, the Mahamiru class mine hunters received upgraded tactical data systems sourced from South Africa. All four were scheduled to undergo life extension later in the decade. Consolidation of the frigate force included a commitment to procure two more Lekiu class ships, with much of the build to be carried out in Malaysia by Labuan Shipbuilding and Engineering. A letter of intent for the two ships was issued in July 2006 and the contract, for US$911 million, was expected to be confirmed by early 2007, thus completing lengthy negotiations.132 One of the contentious issues was the need to upgrade the Labuan Shipbuilding yard before construction work could begin. As in the past, contract negotiations dragged on. Pricing and the Malaysian builder’s share of the work caused problems. BAE was concerned about increasing project risk if more of the work were to be done in Malaysia and was mindful of the OPV experience.133 The new Lekius would be considerably more technically advanced than their earlier counterparts, with the Evolved Sea Sparrow Missile favoured for point air defence. Expectations of signing towards the end of 2007, or early in 2008, were not met and eventually, in August 2009, BAE announced that Malaysian government cost-­cutting had caused the project to be cancelled.134 The challenges confronting Malaysia in producing a skilled technically competent workforce and supporting infrastructure remained.

Malaysia   109 135

The RMN’s 1994 purchase of the ex-­USN LST had confirmed its interest in developing a substantial sea lift and amphibious landing cap­ ability, although some years passed before any further steps were taken. In March 2007 South Korea’s Hanjin Heavy Industries and Construction was identified as one of several international companies in preliminary discussions on the sale of a helicopter landing platform (LPH) to the RMN.136 Malaysian officials cited humanitarian operations as one of the reasons for interest in the LPH. By 2008 the Chief of Malaysia’s Armed Forces had raised the requirement to three multirole support ships for sealift, disaster relief, command and control and amphibious assault tasks and indicated that the ships would be bought in ‘the next three or four years’.137 Two of the ships were to be capable of lifting an entire Rapid Deployment Force Battalion and could include an extensive or even full-­length flight deck. Even greater ambitions in this area were also reflected in frequent ruminations about an aircraft carrier. Senior RMN officers asserted their need for a carrier similar to the Thai Navy’s Chakri Nareubet, and for similar roles – command and control in both civil and military tasks and with the capacity to operate short-­takeoff and vertical landing (STOVL) aircraft and helicopters.138 Given the difficulty the RMN had in fulfilling much more modest force structure plans, an aircraft carrier was likely to remain just a dream well into the future. Almost inevitably, even the amphibious lift project was beset by financial pressures, with a delay until the period 2011–2015 announced in January 2009.139 This became far more significant when the Sri Inderapura was destroyed by fire on 8 October 2009. The Defence Minister’s commitment to replacing the ship promised only that it would be within two to five years.140 The RMN took a more realistic approach to aviation with a proposal to purchase at least six ASW capable helicopters, also most likely within the Tenth Malaysian Plan, by 2015.141 In addition to the existing Super-­Lynx, ASW helicopters would give the RMN a small but capable anti-­surface and anti-­submarine helicopter force to complement its growing surface fleet. They would also provide a useful foundation for any further expansion of the RMN’s aviation force.

Submarines for Malaysia – finally Although not as certain as death and taxes, there was an element of inevitability about the RMN acquiring submarines, which did not extend to the identity of the likely provider. One report suggested that the Navy was negotiating with RDM Submarines of the Netherlands for the transfer of two ex-­Dutch Zwaardvis class boats, to be shipped from Rotterdam by the end of October 2000 and then receive a two year reactivation at Lumut, under RDM supervision.142 For the long-­term solution the Dutch proposed their new Moray design.143 By May 2001 DCN International of

110   Malaysia France and HDW of Germany were competing for the contract. Each also proposed a package of reconditioned boats for training with a follow on of new construction units. The Dutch sought an advantage by shipping, at their own cost, the two Zwaardvis class boats to Malaysia late in 2000. Despite this activity, there remained doubts that finance would materialize, but, in April 2002 the Malaysian Government agreed to negotiate a US$1 billion contract with DCN for the RMN’s initial submarine capability. The agreement included the supply of an Agosta 70 class submarine for training RMN personnel in France for four years, before being transferred to Malaysia. The operational capability was to be two Scorpene class boats.144 With none of the lengthy delay that has characterized so many of the RMN’s contract dealings, the contract was signed in Kuala Lumpur on 5 June 2002. The submarines would be built jointly by DCN (in Cherbourg) and Izar (now Navantia) in Cartagena, Spain to enter service in 2007 and 2008. Events continued apace, with the first of 156 RMN trainees arriving in Brest in January 2005. The first group of 23 qualified in December 2005, confirming the RMN’s personnel selection process and marking a significant step towards achieving an operational submarine capability. At the time, the RMN Chief of Naval Staff, Admiral Datuk Ilyas Hj Din, noted the RMN’s long interest in acquiring the submarine capability, planning having begun 30 years before and submarine familiarization and training having been undertaken since 1985.145 The RMN Chief also acknowledged that the submarines were introducing a new level of technology to the Navy and the nation. The RMN had recognized the complexities of operating submarines by procuring a simulator for training and seeking help from both the Australian and US Navies for safety and rescue expertise.146 The first RMN Scorpene, KD Tunku Abdul Rahman, began deep diving trials early in 2008, with sea trials from October 2008 to January 2009. KD Tun Razak, the second boat, was launched at Cartagena on 8 October 2008.147 Subsequently, the first submarine crew became operational on 25 January 2009, and the RMN announced the formation of a submarine command to be headed by a commodore, reporting directly to the Chief of the Navy.148 Not everything ran smoothly, however, and the delivery voyage of Tunku Abdul Rahman was delayed by manufacturing defects and still incomplete facilities at the new Sepanggar submarine base.149 Malaysia’s king, prime minister and defence minister met the Tunku Abdul Rahman and its crew when the submarine arrived in Port Klang on 3 September 2009. This was a great moment for the RMN, but there was soon further evidence of the hard work needed to generate a credible operational capability. Further defects delayed Tunku Abdul Rahman’s tropical trials until well into 2010 and forced the manufacturer to extend the warranty period.150

Malaysia   111

A new century – the strategic environment and operational challenges As the RMN sailed into the twenty-­first century it faced a range of challenges. While Malaysia had been building up its armed forces, relations with neighbouring countries were still sometimes strained by disputed boundaries. In early 2005, for example, Malaysia and Indonesia deployed warships and combat aircraft in response to allegations of sovereignty violations. The dispute involved the allocation of oil exploration licenses in Ambalat in the Sulawesi Sea by both Malaysia and Indonesia, in areas of ocean claimed by the other.151 It was also partly based on the previous International Court of Justice ruling in 2002 that the nearby islands of Sipadan and Ligitan belonged to Malaysia. While accepting the judgement, Indonesia had not accepted that the islands generated an EEZ. Bellicose statements by political leaders on both sides accompanied some aggressive posturing by ships of both navies, with at least one minor collision. Ultimately, this collision resulted in both parties, then engaged in high-­level talks, agreeing to exercise restraint.152 There was a further minor flare-­up in the Ambalat area in mid-­2009, again involving both navies.153 Malaysia’s long-­standing dispute with Singapore over the island of Batu Puteh (Pedra Branca to Singapore) was resolved in Singapore’s favour on 23 May 2008 by the International Court of Justice.154 The decision awarded the associated Middle Rocks to Malaysia while leaving the ownership of South Ledge undecided. In 2012, disputes remain with Brunei, Thailand and the Philippines over maritime boundaries. While none seemed likely to lead to serious conflict, a possible exception remained the Malaysian claims in the Spratly Islands. To counter maritime security problems in other parts of its waters, Malaysia began installing a chain of nine US-­provided maritime surveillance radars along the east coast of Sabah. The radars were to be operated by the Malaysian Armed Forces Joint Force Headquarters and used to counter piracy and terrorist activity in the Sulu and Sulawesi Seas.155 A marked reduction in piracy in South-­East Asian waters in the wake of the 2004 Tsunami came too late to prevent Lloyd’s Market Association Joint War Council applying a war risk rating to the Malacca Strait in 2005. Lloyds’ failure to withdraw the rating in mid-­2006, when piracy in the area was declining, drew sharp criticism from the RMN’s Chief.156 The original decision in 2005 did, however, lead to improved cooperation among the three main littoral states, Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore, including coordinated sea patrols and the ‘eyes in the sky’ air patrols, all begun in 2005.157 Ironically, the lull in the Strait was matched by an increasing piracy in the Gulf of Aden and off Somalia. A month after Malaysian merchant vessels joined the victims in August 2008, the Government authorized a deployment to support the international campaign. The frigate KD Lekiu,

112   Malaysia landing ship KD Sri Inderapura and training vessel KD Hang Tuah, with an Air Force S-­61A helicopter and commandos embarked for support, deployed to Somali waters for an extended period.158 Hang Tuah was a substitute for the OPV Pahang which had suffered serious defects, highlighting further the ongoing difficulties with the OPVs. A deployment of this kind should have been a major fillip for the RMN, but created unwanted problems. The failure of KD Pahang to deploy and the cost of the operation, together with wear and tear on the ships, caused the RMN to seek alternative solutions. Thus, a Malaysia International Shipping Corporation container ship, the Bunga Mas Lima, was modified as a naval auxiliary for counter-­piracy work with a flight deck, light weapons mounts and a medical centre. It also embarked a Super Lynx helicopter. The deployment crew was a mix of RMN and Army special operations personnel, as well as civilian crew who had been inducted into the RMN Volunteer Reserve.159 The Bunga Mas Lima deployed in June 2009 for an initial three months, replacing Sri Inderapura.160 While the resort to using a merchant ship for counter-­piracy operations off the Horn of Africa did suggest some fragility in the Navy’s ability to sustain operations, the expedient proved effective and probably a much better match of capability to operational requirement. In January 2011, during a later deployment and after other successes, Bunga Mas Lima’s teams retook the merchant ship Bunga Laurel and captured seven pirates. Praising those involved, the RMN’s Chief commented that leasing a second anti-­piracy auxiliary was under consideration.161

The Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency Lateral thinking in the maritime security domain was also shown on a much larger scale. At the start of the century, the RMN was facing considerable strain in matching its wartime roles – destruction of enemy forces at sea, the defence of sea lines of communication, protection of shipping and defence of offshore resource platforms162 – with those of peacetime – resource protection, hydrographic survey, EEZ protection and humanitarian operations.163 Many RMN officers were now increasingly concerned at the impact of coast guard-­type operations on the Navy.164 While there remained tensions at the prospect of the loss of ships and personnel that would come with the establishment of a new agency, it was also likely that the latter would soon go its own way, reducing calls on the RMN’s very limited funding as well as its time. The Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency was formed in March 2005 as an amalgam of elements of the RMN, Police, Customs, Fisheries, Marine and Immigration departments. It planned to have 72 surface vessels by mid-­2006 (18 of them from the RMN) and was also looking for maritime patrol aircraft – both fixed and rotary wing.165 Normally directly responsible to the Prime Minister’s department, in wartime the MMEA

Malaysia   113 would operate under command of the armed forces. Its headquarters were in the Lumut naval base, supported by regional bases in Langkawi, Johor Bahru, Kuantan, Kota Kinabalu and Kuching.166 Beginning in November 2005 the MMEA concentrated its operations from the shoreline to 50 nm, while sharing responsibility out to 12 nm (the territorial sea boundary) with the Marine Police. Under this arrangement, the RMN retained responsibility for law enforcement within the EEZ beyond 50 nm from the shoreline167 but was still relieved of much of the law enforcement task. As so often had been the case, reality overcame ambition and the MMEA force build up was much slower than planned. By late 2007 one report had the MMEA strength at 22 patrol craft and two Dauphin helicopters.168 Personnel growth also lagged; by mid-­2009, there were only 2,000169 of the 4,000 planned. In late 2008, the MMEA was having trouble finding pilots to fly the two helicopters.170 As of late 2009, the RMN was frequently still deploying in support of the MMEA and was therefore not enjoying the expected opportunity to concentrate on combat-­related training and operations.

Supporting a growing Navy Divesting the RMN of many of its maritime security functions was part of a wider endeavour. Malaysia’s evolving strategic situation and the advance of technology had combined to enable and indeed encourage transition of the entire Malaysian Armed Forces to a balanced conventional force with a more joint approach between the services171 and greater cooperation with other agencies. Yet the process had not been simple and in 2012 still had a long way to go. Although there were plans early in the new century for a more joint approach to operations, incorporating a Joint Forces Command, expectations that the new organization would be in place by September 2005 were not met. The Services shared concerns about their potential loss of authority and failed to fund the necessary staff positions.172 Yet the need for such a command was highlighted by reports that the RMN had to stage a trial exercise with the RMAF in August 2006 simply to prove interoperability, before both services took part in a tri-­ service exercise later in the year. The Joint Forces Command was finally established early in 2008.173 Second, financial constraints remained major and sometimes unpredictable factors in RMN planning. The global financial crisis saw the 2008 defence budget cut by US$92 million to pay for the increasing domestic cost of subsidizing oil. Subsequently, in March 2009 the government had to allocate an additional US$35 million to defence, US$7 million to defray the fuel costs of RMN anti-­piracy deployments to the Gulf of Aden.174 The Malaysian economy entered recession in the first half of 2009. There was an expectation of defence budget cuts again in 2010,175 but the budgetary situation became one largely of ‘holding the line’. The armed forces did

114   Malaysia not suffer dramatic reductions, but major projects continued to be delayed or formally deferred. The restructuring of the Army required as part of any systematic move to a networked and mobile Joint force remained fitful and incomplete. In this environment, the RMN struggled to improve its operational capability, personnel strength and infrastructure. Teluk Sepanggar was opened in July 2006 and a contract for US$10.4 million was awarded to TRC Synergy in February 2007 for construction of submarine facilities there,176 but the project experienced delays, as the contracted firm was unable to find a suitably qualified foreign partner. This reluctance on the part of international companies may have stemmed from the OPV programme experience,177 highlighting continuing tension between Malaysia’s industrial ambitions and its rate of development. In 2012, this remained a key issue as the RMN was relying on overseas industry for ship and systems maintenance. Malaysian companies MTU Services and D’Aquarian were awarded a five year US$147 million contract early in 2009, for naval engineering services, while a subsidiary of Boustead Heavy Industries and the French company DCN established a joint venture to provide submarine maintenance. The companies were expected to sign a contract worth US$170 million in mid-­2009,178 but pricing negotiations were apparently still underway in late 2009.179 Bringing together all the pieces of the submarine capability was not proving easy. Matters became somewhat better for the surface force at the end of 2011, when the Ministry of Defence finally committed to six French designed offshore patrol vessels, to be built by Boustead. The Navy intended that these vessels to have much more combat capability than the earlier and slightly smaller Kedah class, but, even at the time of this initial announcement, there were reports of disagreements between the RMN and the prime contractors over the weapon and sensor fit.180 It appeared as though what the Navy really wanted were frigates, with all the inherent capabilities of the type, but was having to content itself with something smaller and cheaper. While the political environment may have forced this approach on the RMN, it remained to be seen whether the required quarts could be squeezed into OPV pint-­pots.

And what of the future? If the RMN has faced many crises in the past, it is arguable that it is entering a new era of complexity and difficulty. The Navy has expanded significantly, but much of that expansion has been in patrol forces and in surface warfare capabilities. Air defence and ASW remain limited and will restrict the RMN’s ability to deal with any sophisticated threat to Malaysia’s maritime interests. The introduction of the Scorpene class submarines boosts the ASW capability, but it also highlights an ongoing challenge facing the RMN.

Table 6.1  Royal Malaysian Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

Type

1952

1962

1972

1982

1992

2002

2012

1 1 1 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 N/A

Frigates Replenishment MPA AEW&C Submarines Corvettes Missile craft Torpedo craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Large patrol craft Small patrol craft Landing ships

– – – – – – – – – 1 – 7 –

– – – – – – – – – 6 0 3 –

 2 – – – – –  5 – –  6  0 22 + 24**  1

 2 –   2+ – – –  8 –  6 (2)   0 + 15** 22 + 43**  2

 2  2   3+ – –  4  8 –  6  4   0 + 15** 21 + 74**  2

 4  2   4+ – –  8  8 –  6  4   0 + 14** 18 + 82**  1

 3  2   4+ –  2 12 + 2**  8 –  6  4   0 + 15** 19 + 88** –

Sources: Jane’s Fighting Ships; Combat Fleets of the World; Conway’s All the World’s Warships 1947–1982; The Military Balance. Notes Key: 2 = EFFECTIVE; (2) = INEFFECTIVE + Basic capabilities only. ** Second figure refers to other maritime agencies. Approximate estimates only in these categories.

116   Malaysia Submarine and anti-­submarine operations are amongst the most technically demanding in the entire spectrum of warfare and require constant attention. In recent decades, the RMN has experienced substantial problems in coping with the demands of technological developments – a reflection of the rapid advances being attempted by the country as a whole and the challenges in providing suitably educated and experienced people to support that advancement. This problem is not unique to Malaysia, nor to the RMN, but it will need to be managed, if not overcome, for the RMN to take full advantage of the operational capabilities available to it. Coping with rapidly advancing technology has also been made more difficult than it might have been by Malaysia’s penchant for opportunistic purchasing of its ships from a variety of countries. Bargains may well have been gained through cheaper up-­front costs, but long-­term problems and costs have been incurred by the need to introduce different logistics support chains and more complex and extensive training regimes. The future shape of the fleet is of course another important consideration. While the RMN has overcome many hurdles in building a competent and relatively capable blue-­water navy, it may well have to repeat the performance. Additional air defence and ASW capabilities may be desirable, but there will also be a need to maintain at least current levels of capability in other aspects of warfare. This will be no small challenge. The RMN currently has five ship classes which have been in service for 24 years or more: the Kasturi class frigates, the La Combattante and Handalan class patrol craft, the Mustyari class OPVs and the Mahamiru class minehunters. Additionally, while the Laksamana class corvettes were commissioned only 10–13 years ago, they were launched 26 years past. Clearly, most of the RMN surface forces will need to be replaced in the relatively near future. As a challenge, this will in no way be insuperable, but it will probably demand more predictable as well as more substantial funding than has been available to the RMN in recent decades. Such modernization and expansion can only be undertaken as part of systematic improvements in all elements of Malaysia’s Armed Force and it will also demand much more discipline in acquisition management than has been evident in the past, together with access to a technically well educated workforce and comprehensive maintenance and logistic support programmes. None of this the RMN can undertake alone.

7 The Republic of the Philippines Navy

Introduction The Republic of the Philippines Navy (PN) is one of the weakest and least capitalized navies in South-­East Asia. Despite US assistance after the Second World War, it has long suffered from Philippine government complacency, based on the defence umbrella provided by the American presence between 1902 and 1992. The government has done little since to compensate for the loss of that umbrella, mainly because of its preoccupation with internal insurgency. Consequently, the PN has not developed the capabilities to meet its considerable surveillance and presence responsibilities. It has yet to acquire the weapons and sensors or the command, control and surveillance systems common to many of its neighbours, while many major units are approaching 70 years of service.1 Post-­Marcos governments promised to support PN modernization but there is yet to be significant practical action. The Navy has been forced to publicize its plight, but the persistence of the domestic insurgency and the lack of substantial funding commitments have prevented the realization of most of its plans. Despite a recent injection of second-­hand units from the USCG, the PN faces the prospect of losing much of its presently marginal ocean-­going capability, even as resource protection and sovereignty issues are gaining prominence. As with so many of the country’s problems, promises of action have rarely been followed up. Time will tell whether the present favourable domestic economic situation, the international focus on terrorism and the contest for resources in local waters will lead to the kind of re-­equipment that the PN sorely needs.

Background A Philippines naval service was established in June 1898 by the revolutionary government of Emilio Aguinaldo. Comprising captured Spanish vessels and requisitioned light craft, the service supported Filipino operations against the Spanish until it was suppressed by the United States in October

118   Philippines 1898. Since this force had provided most of the logistic support for Aguinaldo’s troops, its seizure by the USN was a death blow to Filipino attempts to resist American rule. Not until 1939 was any kind of Philippines naval force re-­established. The initial Defence Act of the Commonwealth of the Philippines provided for a Marine Division of the Army, which was designated the Offshore Patrol (OSP) on formation in February 1939. It was equipped with three motor torpedo boats. Although the OSP was practically eliminated during the 1941–1942 campaign against the Japanese, its personnel established a reputation for bravery. In March 1945 the reactivated Patrol included a number of survivors as a core of expertise for future expansion.

Post-­1945 reconstruction The Philippines soon realized that it would have to rely upon extensive US assistance for the reconstruction of its armed forces and made formal application to the Americans following the Japanese war. The consequent Military Assistance to the Philippines Act, passed by the US Congress in June 1946, proposed a five year aid programme, including the establishment of a military advisory group. The Filipino application included a request for eight patrol and landing vessels for coast guard duties, because the country had suffered greatly from the Japanese occupation and the returning government lacked control over smuggling or illegal fisheries. The easy availability of large amounts of explosives had made dynamiting prevalent, to the point of threatening the future of the country’s fish stocks.2 Furthermore, the loyalty of many of the islands within the Philippines archipelago was doubtful and a strong military presence was required to re-­assert the government’s authority. The Americans were sympathetic to the Philippines’ requirements, particularly since they intended to remain in the archipelago at the naval facility at Subic Bay, and with substantial air and ground forces. By October 1947 some 95 ships (to the value of US$62 million) had been transferred and the reactivated OSP became the Philippine Naval Patrol (PNP).3 Support for the nascent PNP was provided by the Joint United States Military Advisory Group (JUSMAG) which was formed after the Philippines and the US signed Military Bases and Military Assistance Agreements in 1947. Two factors defined the future shape of the PNP. The first was the relationship with the US. Both the developing defence arrangement with America and its military presence made the US the effective guarantor of Philippines integrity against an external threat. Thus, the armed forces – particularly naval and air forces – did not require sophisticated capabilities. The arrangement was confirmed by the Mutual Defence Treaty, signed by the two nations in August 1951 and ratified the following year. While lacking specific commitments, it acknowledged that ‘an armed

Philippines   119 attack’ on either state in the Pacific would be recognized as endangering peace and safety and that both would ‘act to meet the common danger’.4 The second factor was that the rapid post-­war emergence of anti-­ government movements, notably the Hukbalahap (Huk) rebellion centred on Luzon,5 required the armed forces to concentrate on counter-­ insurgency operations. The PNP provided direct support for the army, through transport and patrol work. This had immediate ramifications. Playing an active role in internal security strengthened the PNP’s position to the point where, in the general armed forces’ reorganization, it assumed a separate existence as the Republic of the Philippines Navy on 23 December 1950.6 Notably, however, the Army remained dominant within the headquarters which was created to coordinate the activities of the armed services and the police.7 This was reflected in the PN’s ambiguous mission statement, which was to operate ‘naval forces in support of the missions of the Armed Forces of the Philippines’.8 The PN formed a Marine battalion, with a core of volunteers from other arms of the Navy. In 1951, the Navy conducted its first gunfire support operations against Huk insurgents9 and mounted a large-­scale campaign against smugglers in the Sulu Sea.10 The PN’s difficulty was that these operations consumed still very limited resources, to the point that they prevented any real advances in operational efficiency.11 Not all the ships handed over by the US could be manned and some quickly deteriorated in unmaintained reserve to become beyond economical repair. With essential USN assistance, some progress was made in improving technical and operational standards from 1952 onwards but, while the Philippine Army could despatch a battalion to fight in the Korean War, the Philippine Navy, unlike Thailand’s, did not become involved.12

Standing still The Navy’s situation was not much improved by developments in the Philippines’ security arrangements as the decade progressed. Although the country was prominent in the formation of the South East Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) in 1954, it wanted to establish a common front against Communism – including internal subversion – and further bind the US to the defence of the Philippines against an external threat.13 While the Philippine Armed Forces achieved some integration of their defence planning effort with the Americans, the achievements in terms of the PN’s ‘hot war’ roles were limited. The obvious duties of the Navy would be ASW and mine countermeasures (MCM) in local waters, but even these apparently limited tasks required much more investment than the government would allow. President Ramon Magsaysay, a former general, believed that the military should concentrate on internal security and assist with economic development and civil affairs.14 This established a

120   Philippines consistent policy of limited military expenditure for the next two decades. Consequently, while the PN was regularly involved in multilateral exercises from 1956 onwards, through SEATO, and in bilateral exercises with the US,15 it suffered from continued budgetary restrictions, which forced the Navy to rely upon American assistance and prevented it from increasing its operational forces. USN transfers tended to be matched with deletions of units in poor condition which the PN could not afford to repair.16 There were other limited contributions, including seaward defence vessels from Australia and new support ships (including a presidential yacht) as reparations from Japan. Major operational activities focused strongly on countering smuggling during this period.17

Looking to SEATO The PN certainly had grander ambitions, particularly after exposure to American MCM and amphibious exercises. Planning in the late 1950s centred on the establishment of a network of naval bases around the archipelago, with local forces of patrol boats and torpedo-­armed FAC. To provide some ocean-­going capability, particularly for northern waters, the PN pressed the USN for the transfer of two destroyer escorts (DE), which the PN was eager to label destroyers. This project also meant prestige, both domestically and in relation to the Philippines’ contribution to SEATO.18 Finally, the PN proposed to create an amphibious force through expansion of the Marine Corps and the acquisition of additional landing ships.19 The USN was less sanguine about the PN’s prospects and would not transfer equipment which it believed the Philippines government would not support. Eventually, in 1961 a DE, converted into a high-­speed transport, was transferred to act as a command ship. This soon fulfilled some of the gloomier American predictions, sinking after being caught by a typhoon in dockyard hands when unable to sail.20 She was raised and scrapped a few years later, and, after some debate, replaced in 1967. The unfortunate Rajah Soliman was not the only typhoon casualty of the era. The hazards of the region – and the importance of high maintenance and training standards – were only confirmed by the loss of the patrol vessel Negros Oriental in November 1962.21

Law of the sea and territorial claims Ironically, the PN was experiencing these difficulties as the government was much more actively pursuing sovereignty and international law. In 1955 the Philippines first enunciated its archipelagic doctrine, by which the country’s islands were enclosed by baselines within which the adjoining waters were claimed as internal seas. The Philippines based its claim on complex historical justifications, but the motives were clearly ‘economic, and in part strategic, based upon an assertion of the need for

Philippines   121 22

security and control over these internal sea areas’. Philippine interest in the Spratly Islands also dated from this period, with claims of Philippine discoveries of about 50 new islands, some 230 nm off its Palawan coast, in a group that came to be called Kalayaan (Freedom Land).23,24,25 In 1961, the Philippines enacted its archipelagic concept into law, drawing protests from several western states.26 In 1962 the Philippines claimed against the UK for the Crown Colony of North Borneo, based on it once having been part of the Sultanate of Sulu, now one of the Philippines’ provinces.27 The question was raised when the federation of the British colonies into the new nation of Malaysia was occurring. It was pursued for some years after 1963, when Malaysia came into being and North Borneo was incorporated as the state of Sabah. Notably, however, the Philippines maintained a diplomatic offensive rather than an overt military effort, although there was an increased but temporary presence of Philippines Armed Forces units including PN ships in the south of the country. Military action concentrated more upon the covert insertion of infiltrators into Sabah until the dispute dropped from public view. The Philippines applied a similar diplomatic approach in 1968, when it contended that foreign warships could be excluded from what it defined as its internal waters (those within the archipelago).28 The PN did not try to prevent such passage; rather, the government confined itself to formal declarations and negotiations with the other powers affected. More important for the PN in the long term, in 1968 the Philippines claimed mineral rights on the sea bed within its ‘internal waters’. Unsurprisingly, a Coast Guard was established under naval auspices in October 1967.29 The government was willing to take overt military action in the Spratly Islands. Although the Philippines claims had yet to be formally enacted – pending a 1978 Presidential Decree – three islands were occupied by Marines in 1968. This marked the beginning of a policy of reinforcement and fortification of the islands, which took the numbers in the garrisons to battalion strength by the end of the 1970s.30

The need to look inwards Nevertheless, the military continued to be more concerned with internal security, which was consuming resources which would otherwise have been available to improve external defences. Violence in Mindanao increased from the mid-­1960s, as hostility between local Muslims and Christians spilled over into terrorism and anti-­government insurgency. A crisis over the execution of Moro soldiers in 1968 brought matters to a head, with the declaration of a Mindanao Independence Movement. For the next decade, the war would leave ‘50,000 dead, [tie] down over one-­ half the Philippine combat forces, and [drive] over 100,000 Moros to Sabah’.31

122   Philippines The declaration of martial law by President Marcos in 1972 reinforced the turning inwards of the Armed Forces. Although funding and personnel increases had preceded the declaration and continued for some years afterwards, they primarily benefited the Army and the internal security elements of the other Services – ‘the resources that were ploughed into military budgets . . . largely secured the interests of the regime authorities and not those of the nation’.32 Furthermore, martial law resulted in a heightening of the conflict in Mindanao, created trouble elsewhere within the Philippines, and engaged the energies of many senior personnel who managed it. President Marcos imposed immediate cuts in the PN’s budget in favour of the Army,33 leaving the PN with little expectation of significant increases in its share of future budgets. Any possible acquisitions would involve continuing US military aid – after the Army’s needs had been met. Inevitably, the limited transfers comprised further patrol craft and landing ships, with only the single destroyer escort in 1967. The internal security and transport roles remained paramount and the only PN component to enjoy consistent expansion was the Marine Corps, which was deeply involved in counter-­ insurgency operations.

After Vietnam The first fundamental change in the Philippines’ security situation came with the fall of Vietnam. The country had been less directly affected by the American withdrawal from Indo-­China and the implications of the 1969 Guam Doctrine than other Asian states, because of the presence of the American military bases and the continuing US security commitment. But a united Vietnam created a new equation for the South China Sea and thus for the Philippines’ western waters. Apart from Vietnam’s own role, there was now the prospect of a significant Soviet presence in Cam Ranh Bay, but if the Philippines wished to assert its claims in the Spratlys, it would do so without any prospect of US support. At this time, the Amer­ icans had graver concerns than territorial squabbles in the South China Sea. The effects on the PN were mixed. In 1976 the Navy benefited from the transfer of warships which had escaped from Vietnam and Cambodia to Subic Bay the previous year. These included several former seaplane tenders, serving as frigates, a destroyer escort and many landing ships and landing craft.34 Two more DEs were transferred from Japan and rehabilitated in South Korea, while the latter country provided some of its old ex-­US ships for spare parts. The frigates and DEs gave the PN its long desired oceanic capability, but at a price. Although the ships came at scrap value, they were expensive to crew. Not all were in good condition (some never entered service) and their introduction inevitably put a hold on new construction.

Philippines   123 The PN wanted new ships. Following South Vietnam’s collapse, the Philippines Armed Forces began to depart from the holding strategy under which they had hitherto operated, by which the Armed Forces expected to delay an opponent only until the US intervened, towards an emphasis on self-­reliance. The primary threat was still internal subversion and insurgency, but the partial cease-­fire agreed with the Moros in 1976–1977 indicated progress in domestic security.35 In 1979 the Philippines declared a 200 mile EEZ.36 The near half million square miles involved overlapped with the zones of most of the Philippines’ neighbours and peaceful delimitation was not a certainty in all cases. In these circumstances, the Armed Forces would need to consider reconfiguring against external threats.

Still no progress Yet they did not. The Moro cease-­fire lasted little more than a year and domestic politics continued to impede the Navy’s replacement of its elderly ships. Practically the only navy in the region without surface-­tosurface missiles, the PN’s attempt to order three FAC from South Korea foundered through lack of funding, as did plans to acquire the Otomat missile. The Philippines Air Force (PAF ) improved its maritime surveillance capabilities with three Fokker F27 maritime patrol aircraft in 1981. But they were not enough and their integration with the PN and its tiny air arm remained questionable.37 An indigenous shipbuilding capability, begun in the 1970s, failed to produce units larger than small patrol craft.38 The state of the operational PN was graphically demonstrated in 1981 when the frigate Datu Kalantiaw was forced ashore during a typhoon and became a total loss. This followed a similar incident in 1978 when the escort Leyte ran aground in heavy weather and could not be salvaged. The PN had hoped to gain from the renegotiation of the basing arrangements with the US in 1983. The US administration promised a five year aid package, including US$425 million for military purposes. From it, the PN intended to acquire two small frigates under Foreign Military Sales arrangements and convert a Marine battalion to a quick reaction force. There was even public discussion of acquiring one or two submarines from France.39 The FAC project was also revived. Unfortunately, the US Congress expressed its increasing dissatisfaction with the Marcos regime by cutting the military aid component in favour of economic assistance.40 Without direct US aid, the PN could not afford new construction of this nature and nothing more was heard of the projects, even after partial funding was restored. As the Philippines political situation deteriorated,41 the Navy remained in suspended animation, with ageing ships and continuing heavy demands for patrol and logistics work to counter insurgency and smuggling activities.

124   Philippines

Reform begins The PN’s position did not greatly improve after the supersession of the Chief of the Armed Forces Staff, General Fabian Ver, by General Fidel Ramos in October 1984. Ramos’ reform programme focused on internal discipline and the reorganization of the Army and Constabulary, rather than on spending increases. The Armed Forces’ budgets had actually declined by over 20 per cent in real terms between 1979 and 1984, but the country’s laggardly economic growth did not permit new increases. As for the Americans, they were more concerned with directing aid towards the reconstruction of the internal security elements of the Philippines Armed Forces than rebuilding the PN.42 The Navy’s penury continued through the anti-­Marcos revolution and the first years of the Aquino presidency. Although the PN was the service least closely associated with the old regime, it shared the turmoil, having four Flag Officers in Command (FOIC) between December 1985 and September 1986.43 The political change did, however, create an atmosphere in which the PN reformed itself. In 1987, the operational command organization was revised, six naval districts replacing the three task forces, with a seventh created in 1991. Many of the most decrepit ships were paid off and had been sold for scrap by 1990. Retention by the PN of the associated funds allowed limited repairs and modernization of the remaining ships. Construction resumed on a 44 m patrol boat which had been launched at Cavite in 1984 but never completed.44

The Dumancas Programme The PN had reason to believe that its arguments for a much more ambitious modernization programme would receive a far more favourable political response than previously. The increasing prospect of the departure of the US military from the Philippines implied a need for better external defences. The South China Sea and Spratly Islands remained unsettling issues, while the Philippines was becoming increasingly conscious of poaching by foreign fishing vessels in its EEZ.45 The Navy started plans for FAC from Spain, fast patrol craft from Australia and a logistics support vessel from China, to begin the replacement of the old LSTs.46 It was, however, to be disappointed yet again. The Modernization Act, sent to the Philippines Senate in 1991, proposed 1,800 t frigates, 1,000 t corvettes and a range of other units for the PN in a ten year programme to the year 2000.47 With the Government slow to provide direct funding or negotiate ‘soft’ packages with vendor countries, the PN increased the pressure in March 1992, by inviting politicians and journalists to a ten ship exercise. The breakdowns and other deficiencies revealed were blamed firmly on the government, since it had ‘long neglected the needs for the Navy to buy new ships’.48 In November 1992,

Philippines   125 the Philippines forced the withdrawal of the US from Subic Bay and its other military bases. The consequent loss of access to USN repair and maintenance facilities in the country came as a severe blow to the PN and the material state of the fleet soon deteriorated further.49 Disappointingly, the Congress authorized expenditure of only one-­sixth of the funds requested.50 The installation of a new FOIC, Rear Admiral Dumancas, late in 1992 saw the PN formally request between 60 and 100 ships, and up to 120 coastal and inshore patrol craft over a period of 20 years. Dumancas devised a three stage reconstruction of the Navy’s capabilities. The first stage involved restoring the capability to control inshore and internal waters, the second covered territorial seas and contiguous zones and the third involved control of the EEZ.51 Deletion of the oldest ships continued, whether or not they were replaced. By 1995, half of the Second World War vintage construction had been scrapped.52 The Navy needed reconstruction or faced reversion to an inshore force with no ocean-­going and little coastal capability. Last ditch measures, such as the reactivation of the frigate Rajah Humabon in 1995 could not substitute for modern combatants.

Towards 2000 The PN’s ultimatum to the administration and the Congress was reason­ able in the circumstances. The umbilical cord to the US had gone and the ending of the associated security arrangements left the Philippines with a huge security burden, only exacerbated by the loss of military aid.53 The naval might of the Seventh Fleet was no longer in Philippines waters, yet the Philippines continued to assert its claims in the Spratly Islands. The lack of a maritime war-­fighting capability was now even more inconsistent with the nation’s active role in regional affairs and with its forward presence in the South China Sea54 which was practically unsupportable by the PN. This became clear in February 1995, when the Philippines confirmed that China had built structures, including what appeared to be a guard tower, on Mischief Reef (Panganiban Reef ) part of the Spratly Islands group, within the 200 nm EEZ claimed by the Philippines and was operating armed vessels in the vicinity.55 Although the Philippines dispatched fighter aircraft over the area in a show of force, the very poor state of the PN and PAF had allowed China to build the structures unobserved and uninterrupted. By March 1995 the PN had deployed several patrol craft to the Mischief Reef area and in May there was a minor confrontation with the PLA-­N. When the PN LST Benguet launched a helicopter carrying journalists to photograph the Mischief Reef buildings two Chinese ships cut across its bows.56 One report suggests that the Philippines subsequently blew up Chinese territorial markers and the Mischief Reef structures and arrested

126   Philippines 65 Chinese fishers not far from Mischief Reef.57 Despite warships of both navies being present, the incident did not escalate further. In building on Mischief Reef, China had made clear its claim and intention to sustain it and may have deliberately targeted the Philippines as the weakest of the other claimants in the Spratlys. Philippines’ difficulties with China related also to piracy. In October 1994 the PN stopped a Chinese ship suspected of firing on other ships in Subic Bay. The Chinese crew included five persons in People’s Armed Police uniforms.58 In the first of two other significant incidents in January and February 1996, a PN ship exchanged fire for 90 minutes with two Chinese flag vessels that were raiding merchant ships plying between China and Manila.59 In the second incident, a PN warship seized a Chinese vessel that tried to ram it near Subic Bay. Any suggestion that Chinese pirates were acting with official approval must be balanced against the fact that both Philippine Coast Guard and Indonesian Navy personnel had also been arrested for piracy.60 Conversely, although the official Philippines’ response to these incidents was low key, there was a determination to respond to piratical acts, because of their growing brazenness and the ongoing Chinese activities in the South China Sea. The PN had to overcome the dual challenges created by previous reliance on the American presence and the counter-­insurgency problem. Despite much posturing, the Philippines government had not yet grasped the implications of self-­reliance. PN commanders knew that reconstruction would take ‘10 or so years’61 and that the time was lengthening with government procrastination. The central PN dilemma was no longer just finding a credible role, but of maintaining sufficient physical capability to conduct any tasks at all. Despite some hopeful signs, as the twentieth century ended, that dilemma looked no closer to resolution for the PN. Most promising was newly elected President Fidel Ramos’s commitment to ensure that the Armed Forces could ‘attain a level of capability to safeguard territorial integrity, particularly against intrusion of borders’.62 His commitment was backed with the presentation to the Congress of the Armed Forces Modernization Bill (Senate Bill 896), which became law on 23 February 1995, almost three years later. The bill’s modernization plan focused primarily on the obsolete equipment so prevalent in the Navy and Air Force.63 The plan reflected a newly expressed priority on external security, driven partly by Chinese activity in the Spratly Islands64 and the reality of the new relationship with the Americans. A new naval base was planned for Cebu, to support southern operations.65 This was to be only the PN’s second base, the main facility being at Cavite in Manila Bay. The PN modernization plan provided 140.9 billion pesos (US$5.5 billion) over 15 years, with almost 130 billion pesos for acquisitions and the remainder for upgrades and infrastructure.66 But only 19 billion pesos were allocated for the first five year period beginning in 1996 – insufficient

Philippines   127 to regenerate an ailing force. Nevertheless, the PN expected that by the year 2000 the programme should have produced upgrades of four patrol craft, four transport ships, one repair ship, one multi-­mission vessel, 14 aircraft and two floating docks.67 The upgrades were to include propulsion and weapons systems as well as structural improvements. The PN also planned to buy new ships: three offshore patrol vessels, two guided missile corvettes, eight missile-­armed patrol boats, one mine warfare vessel and two search and rescue vessels.68 Even more ambitious schemes were in place for later stages of the programme, all of which relied on optimistic and ultimately unachievable levels of defence funding. The one ray of light was the acquisition of three British Peacock class patrol vessels, designed for the RN’s Hong Kong squadron, but surplus in the wake of the colony’s return to China. The three Peacock class, rated as corvettes, were commissioned into the PN as the Jacinto class on 4 August 1997,69 the culmination of an acquisition which seemed to surprise the Navy’s leadership.70 Launched in 1982 and 1983 and armed with a 76 mm gun, these ships represented a significant capability leap for the PN, even if only for offshore patrol and sovereignty protection. There were plans to fit surface-­to-surface and surface-­to-air missiles,71 but they never came to fruition.

Making up for the lost protector The Philippines, particularly the PN itself, worked hard to gain some substitute, however pale, for the US presence. The first success was the signing of an MOU with South Korea in May 1994. The memorandum reflected the potential for navy and air force cooperation and for the transfer of ships and aircraft.72 In 1996 the PN took part in its first exercise (Sea Lion) with the RSN in what was meant to become an annual affair. The four ship PN deployment made port calls in Malaysia and Brunei afterwards. Attempts were made to entice the US to return, although on terms much different to those it had previously enjoyed. The situation was compounded by the US resentment at the manner of its departure and this was underlined by its lack of help, even in intelligence, to the Philippines during the South China Sea stand-­offs that began in 1995. By 1996 the USN had returned to visit and exercise with the PN,73 but the rapprochement was relatively short lived. The US suspended all port calls after a Philippines Congress decision regarding the legal status of US service personnel in the Philippines.74 Matters improved after a new visiting forces agreement (VFA) was negotiated in February 1998. Philippines’ legislators hoped that the VFA and potential US presence would deter Chinese adventurism in the Spratlys. Yet recent history indicated that freedom of navigation was the only real US interest in the South China Sea.75

128   Philippines Any PN optimism in other matters was short lived. The Asian financial crisis, beginning in July 1997, caused the government to tighten general expenditure. Thus, the PN had to reduce its operating expenses by 25 per cent for 1998.76 It already faced potential personnel cuts of 5 per cent, down to 25,000 personnel over the decade from 1997.77 The PN hoped to weather the storm by reducing its orders, but without actually cancelling outright any planned acquisition. With the crisis worsening, no major purchases were made before the Ramos government left office in June 1998.78 The new president, Joseph Estrada, was more interested in domestic social issues and postponed modernization.79 By November 1998 there were new pressures to resuscitate the programme as the military nature of Chinese construction on Mischief Reef was revealed. The Philippines also had Spratly Islands troubles with Malaysia, which in April 1998 tried to install communications facilities on Investigator Shoal, which was claimed by both countries. The attempt was curtailed by the appearance of Philippine forces.80 Malaysia returned to occupy both Investigator Shoal and Erica Reef the following year.81 China remained in the Spratlys too, with four ships seen anchored off the Philippines’ claimed Scarborough Shoal in August 1998. Perhaps in desperation, in November 1998, President Estrada ordered what the Philippine media reported as a blockade of Mischief Reef. This could have been construed as an act of war and was subsequently clarified as increased surveillance. Chinese protestations of dispute resolution through international law did not prevent it from continuing to expand its presence in the Spratlys. Defence Secretary Orlando Mercado’s description of China’s attitude as ‘talk and take’82 aptly described the reality from the Filipino perspective. The potential for escalation became clear on 19 July 1999, when a Chinese ship sank after colliding with a PN patrol boat in Spratly Islands waters.83 This was the second such sinking of a Chinese fishing boat in two months.84 In late October 1999, PAF reconnaissance aircraft found seven Chinese ships, including two armed naval auxiliaries, near Mischief Reef and noted that construction work was continuing there.85 Predictably, the Philippine response was muted: light strike aircraft deployed to Palawan Island and naval patrols increased in the area. That the PN was under some strain was confirmed by the grounding of two LSTs during resupply operations. Only the Benquet could be refloated, while the Sierra Madre remained fast on Ayungin Reef, functioning as a de facto accommodation ship for deployed troops.86 Clearly, the PN had to have a credible presence in the South China Sea and Philippine senators called for the release of 7.8 billion pesos, earlier earmarked for the Armed Forces. The money was determined to have been ‘misplaced’ and thus no action was possible. The externally driven pressure resulted in some 5.5 billion pesos being made available by April 1999.87 While this may have signaled renewed commitment, it allowed no

Philippines   129 substantial equipment acquisitions. The gap between ambition and reality was demonstrated once again by the plans published in June 1999. They called for surface combatants, coastal patrol craft, mine countermeasures vessels, anti-­submarine capable ships and aircraft, and amphibious ships.88 Philippines Congress Representative Roilo Golez suggested that surplus USN Knox and Perry class frigates could be made available to the PN, through a resolution then being examined in the US Congress.89 Towards the end of the year, the Navy announced that Britain’s Defence Evaluation and Research Agency (DERA) had been contracted to study potential upgrade options for the Jacinto class, as part of a wider modernization study of the Philippine Armed Forces. Efforts to renew and refocus the Navy also involved separating the Coast Guard element from the PN in 1998. The Coast Guard comprised 3,500 personnel supported by about 4,000 auxiliaries. To establish itself, ultimately within the Department of Transport and Communications, the new organization inherited all of the PN’s patrol craft of less than 20 m in length,90 as well as a number of buoy tenders. One motivation for the reorganization appears to have been an expectation that donor countries, such as Japan, would more readily provide patrol craft for an essentially non-­ military service. The PN expected to remain committed to maritime law enforcement work as the Coast Guard was limited to inshore operations. President Estrada knew the Philippine economy could not sustain the proposed modernization programme and sought help from the US during a visit in July 2000. His shopping list included new and used naval ships. The American suggestion that US$5 million – a tiny fraction of the previous provisions – would be an appropriate amount91 must have confirmed continuing US sensitivity at its departure from the Philippines.92 In fact, the USCG had already transferred a 30-year-­old Point class cutter to the PN in November 1999 and followed this with a second in March 2001. These 25 m craft added little to the PN’s operational capability, and their transfer suggested that America’s enthusiasm for military aid at this point was very limited indeed. By 2001 the PN had made little progress. Funding difficulties, political infighting and bureaucracy continued to frustrate.93 There was also continuing tension between the demands for internal and external security. The very limited available funding was still allocated primarily for Army priorities. All the PN could expect was upgrading some of the smaller coastal patrol boats, as the Marines still took much of the Navy’s money.94 Ironically, the new Coast Guard enjoyed more success than the PN. Australia’s Tenix delivered two 56 m San Juan class offshore patrol vessels in 2000 and two more in 2003. These were unarmed and primarily suited to search and rescue (SAR) and other humanitarian tasks. Four smaller high speed SAR craft followed in 2003 and 2004.95,96

130   Philippines

Modernization in the new century The controversial replacement of President Estrada by Gloria Macapagal-­ Arroyo brought renewed commitment to repairing the Armed Forces, but the pressure in the South China Sea remained. A deployment by Chinese fishing boats to Scarborough Shoal in January 2001 provided further evidence of China’s determined line on the South China Sea and was also seen as a test of the newly installed President. Following a prolonged confrontation with PN patrol craft, China protested formally over the Navy’s actions.97 The signing in 2002 of the Declaration on the Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea, although not legally binding, seemed to have brought temporary stability to the area, without having resolved any of the disputes.98 By now, even the most optimistic Philippine naval officer must have wondered if anything would ever change. An indication of the new President’s resolve, however, was her 2002 defence budget request to Congress of 59.65 billion pesos (US$1.17 billion), a 16.5 per cent increase over the 2001 allocation. The request included a supplementary amount of ten billion pesos, as the first of five annual instalments of the long standing but never funded modernization programme. The funds would be allocated, in the Navy’s case, on upgrading of the Jacinto class corvettes.99 President Arroyo’s good intent changed little for the Navy. In April 2003, the PN sought a special budgetary allocation for emergency overhaul of its ships. This followed the Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces, General Dionisio Santiago’s declaration that the PN was ‘basically non-­ existent’, because of the lack of upgrade funding.100 Once again, there was some cause for hope, with the May 2003 declaration of the Philippines as a major non-­North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) ally of the US, because of the growing focus on countering terrorism. The US had already recommenced the Balikatan series of exercises in 2002. Suggesting better times for the relationship, the US troop contingent of 2,700 was the largest in 21 years.101 Carat exercises involving the USN and PN also took place in 2002 with a significant Philippine commitment of ships and personnel.102 Talon Vision in November 2003 involved some 900 US Marine Corps personnel operating with their Philippines counterparts.103 Not surprisingly, these activities and the declaration brought an expectation of increased military assistance funding from the US, even if it was to be concentrated on counter-­terrorism.104 There was no indication, however, that the PN would benefit in any measurable way. There was some progress in terms of other international interaction. The first in what was intended to be a series of PN exercises with the RBN, Seagull 01–03, took place in April 2003. Australia’s Navy conducted its first ever bilateral exercise with the PN and the Coast Guard in October 2006.105 Exercise Lumbas concentrated on low-­level interoperability and constabulary operations, rather than on war-­fighting. The interest in

Philippines   131 counter-­terrorism carried across all of South-­East Asia, such that in August 2008 the PN joined the navies of Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Brunei, Thailand and the USN in the South-­East Asia Cooperation Against Terrorism (Seacat) exercises in Singaporean waters.106 Budgetary reality continued to be harsh for the Armed Forces generally and the PN in particular. The proposal for 2004, of US$792 million, was some 6 per cent higher than the previous year. The Army was to be allocated 47 per cent, the Air Force 15 per cent and the PN 18 per cent. Only 0.09 per cent of the overall budget was devoted to procurement, although a separate amount of US$91 million was allocated for modernization.107 These sums were tiny against the equipment needs of the three services. Nevertheless, claims were made in March 2004 that the programme was ‘back on track’.108 About US$49 million had been spent. For the PN this meant that the Jacinto class were being upgraded at a cost of US$17.7 million.109 The first phase included an upgraded 76 mm gun, addition of a 25 mm gun, a new fire control system and new navigation and communications suites. Later phases were to include new propulsion systems, training and through life support.110 Although a real fillip for the PN, this brought the Navy no closer to having a credible maritime war-­fighting capacity and reflected the ‘renewed emphasis on internal security’.111 This limitation was also evident in the 2004 transfer from the USN of one Cyclone class coastal patrol craft, armed only with 25 mm and smaller weapons and effectively capable only of surveillance and law enforcement operations. To be fair, the situation did demand such a focus, at least in part. Although the PN had very limited capacity to respond to Chinese incursions and to piracy, its problems were compounded by occasional acts of maritime terrorism. On 27 May 2001, the Abu Sayyaf Group (ASG) kidnapped 20 people from a resort on Palawan Island. Even though the PAF sighted the ASG boat involved, the PN had no assets in the area with which to respond.112 Generally, the Navy was hamstrung by having too few inadequately equipped patrol craft and the ASG was able to outrun the PN at sea.113 The ASG’s ability to conduct maritime terrorism on a large scale was exemplified by its bombing of the Superferry 14, in Manila Bay in February 2004, with the death of 116 people. Eventually, the government established Taskforce Stingray, as an anti-­ kidnapping and counter-­terrorism force in October 2004.114 The force comprised fast patrol craft and two larger offshore patrol vessels, an Islander maritime patrol aircraft, two naval special forces units and a signals intelligence unit.115 Indicating a comprehensive approach to the matter, the PN began training courses for the special warfare forces in early 2005, a programme assisted by a US$30 million US government grant for counter-­terrorism activities. For the PN it also enabled the purchase of much needed equipment, such as boats, radios and ammunition.116 This grant was supplemented by a further US$15.5 million in 2009 to help

132   Philippines provide maritime security against terrorism in the southern Philippines. The focus this time was on high-­frequency radio communications.117 Apart from piracy and terrorism, the PN had a major task in protecting its own fishermen from harassment by neighbouring nations, and its fish stocks from illegal foreign fishers.118 In the early 1990s the main harassment problem came from Malaysia in southern Mindanao waters and the predominant illegal fishers were Taiwanese. As always, the PN was limited by its lack of modern equipment. The cost to the nation was significant, however, with up to US$2 billion being lost annually to illegal fishing.119

More lost years The gap between the PN’s potential internal and external security demands and its capacity to respond remained huge and frequent changes in their relative priorities must have been unhelpful. While the modernization programme was intended to allow the PN to develop its external security capacity, by 2005 internal security was again the priority and the 2005 budget request contained no real increase in funds and allocated less than 1 per cent for equipment procurement.120 For the PN this meant its development focus now had to be on the support of ground forces, such as sea lift.121 Yet, by early 2006 the talk was of missile-­armed patrol boats, offshore patrol vessels, helicopters and reconnaissance aircraft.122 The unrealism of this thinking was underlined by the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute assessment that Philippines defence spending had declined from US$805 million in 1995 to US$756 million in 2004.123 Compounding the funding problems, an investigation in 2003 had found ‘very substantial problems’ of corruption in the procurement process.124 Perhaps it was just as well that so little was spent. Ironically, almost nothing went to the amphibious force, despite its utility for internal security and transportation within the archipelago. From a fleet of 27 ex-­USN LSTs of the 512–1152 class, built originally between 1943 and 1945, at the end of the 1970s, the force had declined progressively to five after deletions and losses. In 2004, yet another LST, Lanao del Norte, grounded while attempting to resupply Philippines’ forces in the Spratlys and became a total loss.125 Two 83 m landing craft were built by Moss Marine of the US and commissioned in 1993 and 1994,126 but there had been no follow-­on. At the beginning of 2005 the PN announced its intention to build locally another LST together with LCUs,127 but nothing came of either proposal. Philippines government actions in the South China Sea reflected its continuing political and military weakness with respect to China. In agreeing unilaterally to a joint seismic exploration with China,128 the Philippines included parts of its continental shelf not claimed by either Vietnam or China. Second, in March 2009, President Arroyo signed the Philippine Archipelagic Baseline Law which excluded the disputed Kalayaan Island

Philippines   133 Group and Scarborough Shoal from the archipelagic baseline.129 While China protested against the ‘sovereignty claim’ the Philippine government had avoided including the areas within the archipelagic baseline because of Chinese government pressure.130 Despite the problems, some progress was evident in the arrival of two fast patrol craft from the Republic of Korea. Like some of its neighbours, the Philippines had begun to acquire equipment from several countries, with all the attendant problems. To be fair, the PN was more constrained in its options than any other regional navy and diversity of equipment sources was just another hurdle in the long struggle to update the Navy. More progress was evident in the defence budget for 2008, which at 56.5 billion pesos (US$1.65 billion) was 20 per cent higher than in 2007,131 yet still nominally less than the sum allocated in 2002. It also contained five billion pesos for the modernization programme. Fast missile-­armed patrol craft remained a PN priority for this budget, even though the national focus remained on counter-­insurgency. This was clearly reflected in the Army’s share, 54 per cent, compared to the PN’s 19 per cent. Even such limited advances continued to be uneven, with the 2009 defence budget failing to keep pace with inflation. Given the impact of the global financial crisis, the Armed Forces of the Philippines escaped reasonably lightly, helped by a surprisingly resilient economy. Defying the global trend GDP grew at 7.2 per cent in 2007 and 4.6 per cent in 2008.132 This enabled President Arroyo to achieve a 13 per cent increase in the defence budget for 2010, to 76.9 billion pesos (US$1.6 billion).133 Yet none of these recent budgets proposed any major equipment procurement for the PN, reflecting the reality that the national security focus was still squarely on counter-­insurgency.

And so to the future . . . The Philippines is a widespread archipelago of over 7,000 islands and relies on shipping for much of its internal transport, as well as for most of its international trade. Furthermore, the Philippines has maritime border difficulties with several neighbours, including China and Vietnam134 and has ongoing insurgencies with maritime dimensions. Moreover, piracy remains a sporadic problem. As recently as November 2005, the PN was conducting anti-­piracy exercises (Pagsasama 05) near General Santos City in the south, because of pirate attacks in the area. Thus, there are very sound reasons for having a capable Philippine Navy. Considering recent history, however, the PN cannot look to the immediate future with confidence. The Navy is still based on a semi-­moribund – despite the best efforts of many devoted people – force of 13 corvettes and frigates, all but four of which are about 65 years old. This situation is being improved marginally by the transfer from the USCG of Hamilton class cutters. These frigate sized ships will bring a new level of capability to the

Table 7.1  Republic of the Philippines Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

TYPE

1952

1962

1972

1982

1992

2002

2012

1 1 1 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 N/A

Frigates Replenishment MPA Corvettes Missile craft Torpedo craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Large patrol craft Small patrol craft Landing ships

– – – 7 – – – – 8 8 5

 1  2 –  7 – – –  2  7 34  7

 1 – –  7 – – –  4  4 37 + 2** 11

 7 –   2+ 10 – – – –  7 80 + 14** 20 (12)

  2 (1) –   5+ 10 – – – –   1 + 2** 11 + 30**  8

 1 –   7+ 13 – –  6 –   5 + 4** 32 + 41**  7

  1 (1) –   5 (2) 11 – –  8 –   4 + 10** 28 + 39**  7

Sources: US Office of Naval Intelligence Review; Jane’s Fighting Ships; Combat Fleets of the World; Conway’s All the World’s Warships 1947–1982; The Military Balance. Notes Key: 2 = EFFECTIVE; (2) = INEFFECTIVE ** Second figure refers to other maritime agencies. Approximate estimates only in these categories. + Basic capabilities only.

Philippines   135 PN. The first was transferred in May 2011 and, after refits in both the US and the Philippines, commissioned as the Barco Republika Pilipinas (BRP) Gregorio del Pilar on 14 December 2011. The second and a possible third unit have yet to be transferred,135 although the US Congress approved the second ship (the ex-­US Coast Guard Cutter Dallas) in early 2012.136 Such ships are, however, more than 40 years old and no matter how well they have been maintained, cannot be expected to have long or trouble-­free lives in the PN. The Navy also has a force of large and small patrol craft, over a third of which are over 30 years old.137 Many of the sea lift and support ships are 60 or more years old. The immediate future does not look any brighter, as there is little prospect of new ships before the 2012 to 2018 period of the capability upgrade programme, for which US$1.2 billion is supposedly to be made available for Navy and Air Force modernization.138 No-­one with any experience of previously announced plans or commitments would be expecting these funds to materialize as planned. If they do not, then the PN will continue to lose operational capability and any ability to protect Philippine sovereignty and interests. Although the US has begun to re-­engage with the Philippines in recent years, there is no indication it is prepared to provide the levels of military aid that would make the PN operationally effective. Only better economic performance, together with a change in approach by the Philippines government can bring relief to a Navy that continues to confront its security challenges with a largely antique fleet. For the PN to become credible and effective, the Philippines government will also have to commit, as never before, to personnel and infrastructure development on a significant scale to accompany equipment acquisition. The latest public declarations of government intent included a statement by the President on the occasion of Gregorio del Pilar’s arrival in country that the priorities for the Navy included strategic sea-­lift vessels, off-­shore patrol vessels, naval helicopters, coast watch stations, and similar weather-­heavy endurance cutters.139 This was at least realistic, as was the caution displayed by both the President and the Navy’s Chief, Vice Admiral Pama, on the prospect of submarines. The strategic utility of such vessels was one thing, the ability of the PN to acquire and operate them another. But it is high time, from the PN’s perspective, that political rhetoric is converted to material reality. If the future is kind, the Philippine Navy should look first to building an offshore-­capable constabulary force, capable of securing the country’s borders. Beyond that, whatever maritime warfighting capability is sought should be concentrated initially on surface and anti-­air warfare, capabilities likely to be of most use in any skirmishes relating to maritime claims in the South China Sea or elsewhere.

8 The Republic of Singapore Navy

Singapore’s Navy started as the ‘third man’ in the defensive measures planned by the newly formed Republic between 1965 and 1967, to ensure the tiny island state’s integrity. Its growth since 1980 has, however, reflected Singapore’s increasing concern for protection of the shipping flowing in and out of the country and through maritime South-­East Asia as a whole. From a purely coast defence and sovereignty protection service, the RSN has moved on to claim a trade protection role, which it is becoming increasingly capable of executing. The process has not been without cost. Apart from the budgetary element, Singapore has to balance its perceived military requirements against the concerns of neighbours, particularly Malaysia, which might object to an overly strong Singaporean navy. Clearly, however, the RSN is taking the lead in setting the directions in which the navies of South-­East Asia are likely to move. Particular emphasis is placed on security of its maritime domain, ASW and submarine warfare, MCM, command and control and on integration with the Republic of Singapore Air Force (RSAF ) and with other government agencies.

Background With the Royal Malaysian Navy, the RSN originated from the 1934 SSRNVR which was to assist the RN with the local defence of Singapore. Volunteers from the SSRNVR were used to form the RN (MS) in 1939, while the SSRNVR was expanded and renamed the MRNVR.1 Both these volunteer forces existed through the Second World War, with a nucleus of personnel operating from Ceylon between 1942 and 1945. Others remained in Singapore, many working with resistance units.2 Despite the record of the two naval forces, colonial government economies forced the disbandment of both in April 1947. But the beginning of communist insurgency and declaration of the Malayan Emergency in June 1948 rapidly changed British Colonial Office policy. Within a large-­scale programme to mobilize Singapore and the newly formed Federation of Malaya against the communists, plans were developed for the creation of military forces. Singapore was viewed as the best prospect for a new naval

Singapore   137 service. Apart from the core of trained personnel available and the obvious local maritime security requirements, Malay susceptibilities to the prospect of large-­scale arming of Singaporean (and thus not ethnic Malay) ground troops were a consideration. A Singaporean naval force would contribute to peninsula defence without rousing concerns within the Federation.3 Again, two organizations were formed: the MNF and a revived MRNVR. The former was the permanent force intended as the nucleus of a future Malayan Navy, with the latter providing the reserve component. As the MNF got under way at Woodlands in Singapore, the RN gave the MRNVR an old Japanese escort which was renamed Laburnum and fitted out as a headquarters ship. Small craft including a seaward defence boat were handed over for sea training. The MRNVR maintained close ties with the RN, through training conducted by personnel seconded from Her Majesty’s Ship (HMS) Terror, the British depot for Singapore, and through regular attachments to ships of the Far East Fleet.4 Since the Singapore Division of the MRNVR was locally manned, it retained an inherently ‘Singaporean’ character, while the MNF included an increasing proportion of Malays. Nevertheless, there was considerable cooperation between the two organizations and many Singaporeans served in the MNF. In 1954, a small building programme began with the seaward defence vessel, Panglima, which undertook training and patrol duties.5 In 1956 the SWANS came into being.6 The MNF was redesignated the RMN in 1952 and, in July 1958, the State of Singapore transferred the personnel and assets of the force to Malaya. The latter assumed full financial control on 1 January 1959. The status of the Singapore Division of the MRNVR was not altered until 16 September 1963 when Singapore became a member state of the Federation of Malaysia. Then, the Division became part of the Royal Malaysian Naval Volunteer Reserve (RMNVR) and was soon active in Confrontation operations. Panglima was transferred to the RMN and, on 1 April 1964, 170 officers and ratings, including SWANS, were mobilized for full time service.7 Personnel who remained with the RMNVR on part-­time service undertook local patrols using the remaining seaward defence vessel.

Independence for Singapore The federation of Singapore with Malaysia was not successful and Singapore became independent on 9 August 1965. With independence, Singapore faced vast economic and human problems and a considerable defence challenge. Including all trained and partly trained personnel, the new Republic could field two battalions of infantry, a half-­regiment of artillery and man two small naval craft. There was no air force. While a considerable Commonwealth military and naval presence remained in Singapore, there was no guarantee that it would be available to protect the small nation in the event of disputes with Malaysia. Indeed, the nation’s Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew pursued an openly independent line from the

138   Singapore British. Singapore not only reminded the latter that its independence cancelled previous treaties guaranteeing the UK bases on the island,8 but promised Indonesia in 1966 that the British would be gone within ten years.9 Defence links with Malaysia were progressively eroded as deployed units and their personnel returned to their own country. By the middle of 1966, Singapore had left the Joint Defence Council and the Combined Operations Committee in which it had been associated with Malaysia.10 Lee Kuan Yew’s remarks to the UK were negotiating ploys. When the British announced their withdrawal from the Far East within less than ten years, a timetable which was soon advanced by half a decade, Singapore confronted alarming prospects. Confrontation with Indonesia was winding down and relations were improving after the fall of the Sukarno regime, but the island state now had to provide all its own defences, when it was losing one of its key sources of jobs and income – the British presence. It did, however, have sufficient time for rational planning and the deferment of expenditure until coherent doctrines were evolved. Large-­scale implementation of these policies would need to begin only in 1967.11 Singapore’s Navy emerged from the redesignation of the Singapore Division of the RMNVR as the Singapore Naval Volunteer Force (SNVF ) in January 1966, while the Government’s initial priority was to create a National Service system and the core of an effective Army. Conscription was seen as a useful element in the process of nation building and in creating common values and ideals across the range of ethnic groups within the island.12 Furthermore, Singapore wanted to avoid creating a too-­large professional military elite within the country, even while convincing a population with strong anti-­military traditions that uniformed service would be a worthwhile career for their sons.13

Early roles Since the Armed Forces were too small to allow for separate services, the Government created an Integrated Command under the Ministry of Interior and Defence. The SNVF ’s roles were designated as ‘patrols in Singapore Strait on smuggling duties and the protection of fishing vessels and other small craft’14 and the force was commissioned on 5 May 1967. By then, personnel mobilized into the RMN had returned from Malaysia and the government had determined that long-­term plans could be effected. Singapore sought assistance from Britain in creating an air force, from New Zealand for the navy and from Israel for the army. Israel was the main source of Singapore’s general approach to defence.15 Their strategic problems were essentially similar, particularly in the lack of strategic depth. There was thus considerable Israeli influence in Singapore’s evolution of a ‘poisonous shrimp’ doctrine which involved building the country’s defences on such a scale that no potential aggressor would think it worthwhile to attack.16 Territorial survival was the paramount requirement

Singapore   139 17

in this early defence thinking. Thus, the Government focused upon creating a rapid reaction army and an integrated air defence system which was soon the most capable in the region. Although the naval service had the lowest capability development priority, coastal defence assets were needed together with a much improved patrol force. Clearly, Singapore was moving towards a three dimensional defence concept, in which combatant units on land and sea and in the air would be fully integrated in their operations. In September 1967 the SNVF was designated the Sea Defence Command and moved from its old base in Telok Ayer Basin to a site at Pulau Belakang Mati (now Sentosa) which had formerly been used by the British Army. The location was not ideal, since there was no berthing for any of the Command’s ships, which had to lie off at buoys or at anchor, but it did allow the establishment of a School of Maritime Training in November 1967 with the assistance of a cadre of New Zealand naval personnel. Officer training was managed with foreign assistance. The first cadets proceeded overseas in 1968, having received their basic training in Singapore.

A Navy of attack craft The force structure programme was initially two pronged, emphasizing the requirement for Singapore to develop its own warship building capacity. This was consistent with a general policy to encourage defence self-­ reliance to maintain Singapore’s freedom of action.18 In June 1968 three fast patrol craft and three more heavily gun-­armed FAC were ordered; one of each class to be built in the UK and two of each in Singapore. Later the same year, teams were despatched overseas to examine designs for missile craft and surface-­to-surface missiles, the potential of which had been demonstrated in 1967 by the sinking of the Israeli destroyer Eilath by Russian-­ built Egyptian craft. The Israeli missile and boat programme was the most advanced in the West and Singapore took the same basic design of missile boat from Germany and the new Israeli Gabriel missile. Once more, lead units (two) were to be built in West Germany, while four more were ordered in Singapore. The expertise thus gained in indigenous shipbuilding was later used to good effect, with the construction of three coastal patrol craft and three FAC for Brunei between 1973 and 197919 as well as 45 m missile boats for Thailand.20 Nevertheless, the concept of a national warship building industry suffered from the inability of the small Singaporean armed forces to support continuous production. Consequently, orders such as those from Brunei and Thailand were needed to sustain expertise and the shortage of projects after the mid-­1970s generated considerable difficulty for Singapore’s warship building industry.21 Meanwhile, the missile craft squadron (185) became operational in 1974 with the first at-­sea firing of Gabriel by the lead unit, Republic of Singapore Ship (RSS) Sea Wolf.22

140   Singapore

Overseas assistance The second approach towards force structure was foreign assistance, particularly from the US, to acquire amphibious and mine countermeasures vessels, which would otherwise be too expensive for the still limited defence budget. The US transferred an LST in 1971 and two coastal minesweepers and five more landing ships in 1975. The latter, of Second World War vintage, were practically rebuilt after arriving in Singapore. Their principal role was support of ground forces in the training expeditions which were mounted overseas in the absence of sufficiently large-­scale facilities within Singapore. In 1974, the modernized LST Endurance conducted the first midshipmen training deployment, a cruise of more than two months incorporating port calls in South Yemen, Sri Lanka and Thailand. The two coastal minesweepers did not constitute a credible mine countermeasure capability but the Sea Defence Command did not as yet possess either the expertise or the funds to support mine warfare on a larger scale. In the interim, Jupiter and Mercury provided platforms from which to accumulate expertise. Pulau Brani in Keppel Harbour became the site for a new naval base in 1971. Over the next three years, 122 hectares were cleared and wharves, maintenance shops, schools and accommodation buildings were erected. The base was officially opened on 26 January 1974.23 Its operational status and the access which the Command now enjoyed to the old British naval station HMS Terror,24 allowed the establishment of a technical training school and an officers’ training school, as well as expansion of the School of Maritime Training, newly renamed the School of Naval Training. By this time, the Singapore Armed Forces (SAF ) were well embarked upon their attempts to patriate all training to Singapore and do without foreign advisers.25 Singapore’s increasing military capabilities were recognized by the establishment of the three service arms as distinct identities on 1 April 1975, when the RSN was established ‘as an independent armed service’.

The refugee question While the new RSN required time to consolidate hitherto rapid expansion and to develop concepts of operation for its missile craft and gun boats, it was hampered by the increasing flow of refugees from Indo-­China. Apart from specific major interception and relief operations which were designated Operation Thunderstorm, the ‘job of monitoring the flow of refugees and helping them on their way with water, food, fuel and medicine fell largely to the RSN’.26 This protracted commitment put a heavy strain on the Navy and consumed resources and time intended for developing operational techniques. It delayed the RSN’s progress and affected both readiness and morale. Moreover, the employment of missile and FAC in essentially coastal and inshore surveillance and interception duties was

Singapore   141 clearly inappropriate and smaller units were more suited to the job. Twelve 22.7 m fast patrol boats were ordered in 1979. Although they were essentially large police boats, the RSN fitted the class ‘for but not with’ two Gabriel missiles, thus potentially increasing its number of missile boats at short notice.27 The refugee control operations also showed up the need for much improved command and control and a clearer picture of activities in the Singapore Strait.28

The strategic requirement widens Following the setback of Thunderstorm the RSN suffered another disappointment, when a plan for three additional missile gunboats under the designation of Project Albatross was set aside in favour of additional fighter aircraft for the Air Force. This forced the Navy to return to first principles and to examine its operational requirements in the light of Singapore’s development, consequent dependence upon seaborne trade and the increasing uncertainty of South-­East Asia’s strategic situation. The Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia and the Soviet presence in Cam Ranh Bay brought the danger of conflict spreading out of Indo-­China. Singapore encouraged a continuing US military presence,29 but it appreciated that its own Armed Forces required more capability. Additionally, the Air Force and Navy needed more ‘reach’ to defend the country’s interests, particularly in view of Singapore’s utter dependence upon seaborne trade.30 The SAF had also to consider that, of the other ASEAN states, only Malaysia yet possessed any kind of sophisticated maritime forces and that Singapore might have to play a crucial role in regional maritime defence. As the Soviet presence expanded, the SAF tended ‘to acquire hardware and to evolve air and naval exercises which emphasize[d] readiness to engage not minor but major naval adversaries should such a requirement prove necessary’.31 The emphasis of Singaporean defence was shifting away from territorial integrity to contributing to regional defence against external threats.32 Some of Singapore’s concerns were allayed by improving military cooperation with its neighbours and within the FPDA, particularly after the 1980 Australian initiative to revive the Arrangements with increasingly ambitious exercises.33 In 1979, after the commissioning of the new missile boats for Brunei, regular bilateral Pelican exercises began with that country. Exercises with Indonesia had been conducted regularly since 1974. In 1983 the RSN began to operate with the RTN (Thai-­Sing) and in 1984 – indicating the slowly maturing relationship – with Malaysia (Malapura).34 There were two elements to the Navy’s future. One was the RSN argument that it had effectively become the second line of national defence after the RSAF and thus warranted a higher priority in defence budget allocations. A certain amount of opposition had to be overcome in this

142   Singapore process, as the Defence Ministry was inclined to favour aircraft.35 Second, larger and more sophisticated ships meant order of magnitude capability increases for the RSN and much extended operating ranges.

Protection of shipping – the SLOC role The ‘Sea Lines of Communications’ (SLOC) strategy became increasingly important within RSN planning over the next decade. The area of direct RSN interest covered the length of the Strait of Malacca and out to 500 miles from Singapore in other directions. Of particular and increasing concern was the prospect of conflict in the South China Sea. While Singapore was not party to the web of conflicting claims there, the direct routes to many of the country’s trading partners, particularly Japan, lay through it. The SLOC role was extremely ambitious and undeniably, the RSN had yet to possess the requisite capabilities. The priorities were for larger craft, with more endurance and better sea keeping than the Sea Wolf class, improved command and control and, in particular, an ASW capability. Consequently, an order for six 62 m craft was approved in 1983. The RSN probably considered even larger units, either instead of these soon to be designated Victory class corvettes, or as follow-­ons. Sensibly, the Navy decided in 1986 that, for the time being, the costs and other disadvantages of larger units outweighed their possible benefits.36 The manpower issue was most critical, because frigates of this period would have required considerably larger crews than the 62 m boats, while the operational expertise of the Navy was still, collectively, very much a ‘work in progress’. The associated expansion of the RSN could only have come at the expense of the Army or Air Force,37 at a time when Singapore’s defence effort was competing with the commercial sector for limited financial and human (especially technical) resources.38 The next three years were spent developing the details of the class, which was based on a Lürssen hull from Germany, with a combat system designed to Singaporean specifications. A batch of six units was ordered in 1986, with the lead unit again being built in Germany and the remainder in Singapore.39 A second element in the modernization of the Singapore Armed Forces was the upgrade and progressive rearmament of the Sea Wolf class with Harpoon missiles in addition to their Gabriels. Most important was the acquisition of four E-­2C Hawkeye airborne early warning and control (AEW&C) aircraft from the US in 1983. These aircraft could not substitute for much needed maritime patrol aircraft (MPA), but they provided a command and control foundation for devising coordinated tactics for the Air Force and Navy in long-­range maritime strike. An interim, if barely adequate, maritime surveillance capability was introduced through the RSAF ’s 121 Squadron of Skyvan aircraft which carried naval observers.40

Singapore   143 The RSAF also began to configure attack aircraft specifically for maritime strike operations.41 Introduction of the Victory class corvettes proved a considerable challenge for the RSN, largely because the complicated combat system software had to be written from scratch and required lengthy ‘debugging’. Nevertheless, the first three units were commissioned in August 1990, with the remaining trio being accepted in the following year.42 The corvettes experience was matched by difficulties encountered in setting up the E-­2C Hawkeye aircraft to direct aircraft which were not data link equipped.43 Small services which attempt independent system development must expect setbacks in the resolution of what are highly complicated technical challenges. Although the corvettes consumed the bulk of the RSN’s budget in the late 1980s, plans were made for MCM units, new multi-­purpose patrol vessels and, with the RSAF, light MPA44 to round out the RSN’s capabilities for both SLOC protection and seaward defence. Interoperability with the Air Force became key to the integrated strategy which the RSN produced for its operations, locally and into the Malacca Strait and South China Sea. Thus, six Dutch Fokker 50 maritime patrol aircraft, entered RSAF service in 1994, manned by the Air Force and flown under naval operational control.45 Overcrowding on Pulau Brani forced construction of a second facility at Tuas in Jurong between 1990 and 1993. With some 1,800 m of berthing space it had twice the capacity of the Brani base.46 Initial planning also began for a complete new fleet base on reclaimed land at Changi.47 Selection of a Swedish minehunter design was made in 1991, with the construction of four Landsort class being approved, with the possibility of a further pair (which never eventuated).48 A coastal design was selected ahead of an inshore type, indicating the RSN’s intent to protect not only the Singapore Strait but ‘the Malacca Straits SLOCs and the South China Sea’.49 The first minehunter, RSS Bedok, was constructed in Sweden, while the remaining three were built in Singapore. The second, RSS Kallang, was launched in January 1994.50 Later that same year, the RSN upgraded its sealift capacity with the commissioning of the ex-­British Sir Lancelot class landing ship logistics (LSL), RSS Perseverance on 5 May.51 Other capability improvements included the Mistral surface-­to-air missile, added to the missile gunboats and LCTs, beginning in mid-­1994.52 Mistral was also included in the weapons fit of the new locally designed and built Fearless class patrol vessels. Other systems included a 76 mm gun and, for six of the class, hull mounted sonar as part of an ASW suite. The first of 12 of these 500 t ships, RSS Fearless, was launched on 18 February 1995.53 The ASW capability and other attributes of the corvettes and patrol vessels allowed a new emphasis on bilateral and multilateral exercises, particularly with non-­ASEAN countries. The RSN had also progressed development of the extensive support infrastructure, particularly for tactical

144   Singapore training and combat simulation54 that was essential in sustaining such an independent approach to maritime operations. This also enabled better exploitation of live training opportunities. The RSN, having always welcomed the opportunity to exercise against sophisticated opposition, now required submarines as sonar targets and these were provided through interaction with the USN and the RAN.55 This matched well the Government’s efforts to ensure continuing US military engagement within the region after the loss of the Philippine bases. Singapore, while eager to maintain strong military links within ASEAN declared firmly that ‘there is much to be gained from involving interested and like-­minded extra-­ regional powers who are committed to preserving stability and security in the region’.56 This catholic approach to international engagement extended to regional powers such as India, through the ‘Lion King’ (from 2005, Simbex) series of exercises, which started in 1994, and also to Sweden, whose operation of the same type of minehunters as the RSN provided the impetus from 1996 for an annual bilateral MCM exercise, designated ‘Lejon Singa’.57 The RSN’s flurry of acquisitions and Singapore’s obvious determination to create a credible trade protection force raised questions as to the long-­ term intentions of the naval development programme. Much commentary was motivated by the interest of Singapore’s neighbours, particularly Malaysia, in acquiring submarines and the expectation that Singapore would respond. The Ministry of Defence was quick to decry such suggestions,58 as a submarine force would require a reordering of defence procurement priorities. Apart from the fact that the local operational environment was challenging for submarines, such vessels also risked sending the wrong signals about Singaporean intentions to the neighbours, something about which the Government was increasingly sensitive.59 The RSN preferred, for the moment, to concentrate on developing ASW capabilities, in addition to its existing emphasis upon air- and sea-­ borne anti-­ship warfare. The Navy also, however, retained options for acquiring a submarine force and sent junior officers to Germany to undertake basic submarine training.60 In reality, the RSN was already committed to considerable expenditures even if it simply replaced its combatants one for one. The six large modernized fast patrol and attack craft were approaching 20 years of service. The Sea Wolf class was almost as old and the much refitted landing ships were nearing their half century.61 At this stage, the RSN intended to maintain the Sea Wolves ‘into the early part of the next century’62 while replacing the older boats with the same number of larger 57 m units with a new combat system.63 While the RSN continued to eschew frigates publicly, however, the acquisition of bigger ships, possibly large enough to include a flight deck, was becoming increasingly likely. One clear deficiency in the RSN’s capacity to assume the SLOC role, with or without maritime patrol aircraft, was a lack of embarked helicopters.

Singapore   145 At least temporarily, rapid growth ended for the RSN in favour of a period of consolidation of capabilities and skills. By the late 1990s, the RSN comprised four primary elements: Fleet, Coastal, Naval Logistics and Training Commands. The Fleet itself comprised two flotillas, the First Flotilla of strike craft and the Third Flotilla of support ships.64 The basic structure of the service was established, with a mix of highly sophisticated corvettes and missile craft as the ‘high’ combatant element and a less sophisticated but numerous patrol force as the ‘low’ element for local surveillance and sovereignty protection functions. The latter functions were conducted increasingly in coordination with other agencies. Some ships, notably the Fearless class patrol vessels, spanned this ‘high/low’ division to some degree, but the maritime security task was consuming an increasing proportion of these ships’ availability and the longer range SLOC role was clearly passing to the bigger units.

Singapore Armed Forces 2000 – towards the new century The ‘SAF 2000’ study which emerged from a 1988 structural review65 provided a significant modernization programme, for each of the Services. A major focus of the study was to ensure the smooth development of the Services, with the activities of no one Service impacting on development of the others. Within that context, its aim was to ensure that the Navy and other services could meet the likely threats as Singapore approached the twenty-­first century. Among the naval outcomes of ‘SAF 2000’ were the decisions to continue expansion to create a more versatile and longer range naval force and to build the new naval base at Changi, to replace that at Brani by the turn of the century.66 Reclamation work started by 1995. Even projects that were intended to substitute for existing units involved significant gains in operational capability and reach. In 1994 Singapore announced a programme to acquire four LSTs to replace the ageing County class ships. The first two of these much larger and more flexible ships, RSS Endurance and Resolution were launched in March and August 1998,67 while the last of the class, RSS Endeavour, was launched on 12 February 2000.68 Their organic helicopter facilities, embarked landing craft and docking wells made them much more flexible and capable than their predecessors. Most significantly, in September 1995 the RSN announced the acquisition of an ex-­Swedish Navy Type A 12 Sjöormen class submarine, to provide familiarization prior to building to a future submarine force of up to six boats. In April 1996 the crew began training in Sweden and in July 1997, Singapore announced the purchase of three more of the submarines. The first of the four arrived in Singapore in May 2000.69 Delivery took place after a comprehensive programme of reconditioning and adapting for tropical conditions.70 Several other South-­East Asian navies had long-­standing ambitions of operating submarines, but had been stymied by the cost and complexity

146   Singapore involved. Singapore’s becoming the first to do so was notable for being an exception to its usual caution in introducing new technologies to the region71 and confirmed its economic strength, even as the Asian financial crisis unfolded around it. The introduction of the submarine arm confronted the Singapore Navy with several challenges, many of them personnel related, with implications for other aspects of its intended expansion. Like many navies, the RSN had difficulty in retaining technically qualified people, while it also had career patterns that propelled the most talented to senior rank at comparatively early ages. This advancement policy ensured a dynamic and youthful leadership which could move on, after military service, into key national leadership and management roles, but it also strained the RSN’s ability to maintain high professional standards and an adequate experience base. The transition from a small, largely derivative inshore and coastal service into a multi-­role deep water navy demanded close attention to the creation of a much larger and more highly skilled cadre of expert operators and maintainers. The Navy recognized this need and emphasized training and development and the continued investing in shore facilities to support the effort. The change in the nature of naval operations created other new pressures. In particular, the Navy had to replace a culture in which 72 hours was ‘a long deployment’72 in a defence force and a small nation, with one in which lengthy periods away from home might have to become accepted as the norm rather than the exception. On the other hand, for the submarine force, Sweden, without the limitations inherent in NATO membership, provided the RSN with a comprehensive training package incorporating doctrine, operations and tactics.73 This allowed the RSN to bring the renovated submarines successfully into service. The drive to ensure that operational standards were adequate from the first was matched by careful attention to the supporting infrastructure. Singapore’s determination to exert naval influence beyond its immediate waters was also evident in the decision to introduce into service a force of ocean-­going corvettes. This programme for a class of up to six ‘stealthy’ corvettes progressed with Singapore’s customary shyness, perhaps conscious that the new class represented an advance in the RSN’s capability equivalent in its own way to that of the submarines. Little was revealed at first beyond the sense that the ships would be considerably bigger and more capable than the Victory class corvettes and that they were expected to enter service by 2005.74 It would soon be clear that Singapore was acquiring something more than corvettes.

Threat perceptions The RSN’s development was based upon Singapore’s highly tuned and increasingly sophisticated understanding of its strategic environment and the potential threats to the country. As a tiny nation state, it was both the

Singapore   147 beneficiary of geography and a potential victim. While Singapore’s armed forces could combine their efforts and share resources, the country would always lack strategic depth.75 As a key hub for transshipment, Singapore depended heavily on international trade, estimated in 1995 to be worth more than three times the national GDP.76 Singaporean national strategy placed great importance on security of SLOCs, especially in and around the Straits of Malacca and Singapore. The reality was that the SLOCs were inseparable from the local security of Singapore’s minuscule maritime domain, and from that of the much larger coastal zones of its immediate neighbours. As early as 1983, Singapore recognized that this was not only a naval issue, and instituted an inter-­agency maritime security exercise, codenamed Apex77 followed in 1988 with the formation of the RSN’s Coastal Command, with its responsibility for territorial and inshore defence.78 RSN development was matched by growing capacity within agencies such as the police and customs and a progressive sharing of the patrol and surveillance task. This was reflected in the transfer of the 12 Swift class to the Police Coast Guard between 1993 and 1996.79 Over the next decade, inter-­agency integration progressively increased.

Cooperative activities During this period there was also a trend towards international security cooperation. Maritime commerce was endangered by a resurgence of piracy or sea robbery from around 1990. The close proximity of Malaysian, Indonesian and Singaporean maritime boundaries and the numerous islands in these waters complicated law enforcement efforts and the limited cooperation among the three maritime forces up to this time served to make the counter-­piracy task more difficult. Nevertheless, through the 1990s attempts were made to improve cooperation, with, for example, Exercise Eagle 12/92 involving the navies of Singapore and Indonesia, in Singapore and in local waters in December 1992.80 This followed an agreement in July the same year, in which Indonesia and Singapore had signed an Indonesia-­Singapore Coordinated Patrols Agreement to cover the Singapore Strait and Phillip Channel. This arrangement included the two navies, the Singapore Police and the Indonesian Marine Police. In early 1993, Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia convened a conference on Malacca Strait security and the upgrading of surveillance systems for the area.81 Piracy remained a significant threat until the middle of the next decade82 but the continuing evolution and improvement of multilateral arrangements had progressively greater effects, particularly in Singapore’s immediate vicinity. Despite some tensions among neighbours in South-­East Asia, there were continuing, if sometimes halting attempts to build cooperative regimes for other naval operations in the region. Singapore was very much involved in this activity,83 with the RSN conducting 24 exercises with 15

148   Singapore navies in 1996.84 Many cooperative activities were low key, including basic training manoeuvres and the development of common procedures, but the RSN still sought to increase sophistication wherever it could. The development of the annual exercise with the Indian Navy from 1994 reflected this evolution. Exercise Lion King involved ASW operations from the first,85 thus indicating an increasing desire by both nations for more complex activities. Lion King became more complex over time to the point that units were conducting weapon firings against ‘padded’ submarines86 and, in 2008 there was a combined firing of the Barak anti-­air missile.

Into the new century Undoubtedly the most significant force structure change for the RSN in the early twenty-­first century was the introduction of the six modified French Lafayette class frigates (Formidable class in RSN service). The ships had significant stealth features, but it was their size and endurance which marked the real change in the RSN approach. The first of the class, RSS Formidable, was commissioned in France in June 2005. The new ship arrived in Singapore in July and undertook a two year programme of trials and work-­up, while construction proceeded on the remaining five at the Singapore Shipbuilding and Marine yard. The construction of all but the lead unit of this class in country marked a significant development in Singapore’s indigenous warship building capacity, as well as its technology base, and relied on close collaboration with the Defence Science and Technology Agency among other organizations. The RSN was acutely conscious that the 3,200 t ships marked a much greater advance on the Victory class than the latter had been over their predecessors, and would take several years to bring up to their ultimate level of capability. In addition to air defence and embarked helicopters, the Formidables had much improved command and control systems,87 as well as markedly greater endurance and much better sea keeping. The RSN minimum manning concepts determined a crew of only 71 – fewer than any comparable service for a unit of such capabilities – providing yet another challenge. The RSN progressed quickly in exploiting the capabilities of the new class, advancing to the first successful firing of the Aster anti-­aircraft missile in the French instrumented range off Toulon in 2008. An equally significant indication of the achievement of initial operational capability by the Formidable class – and the RSN’s confidence in them – was the group decommissioning of the six now elderly Sea Wolf class missile boats in May the same year. The next step was integration of the six Sikorsky S-­70B Seahawk helicopters, which had been ordered in 2005. Another very significant advance was the continued development of the RSN’s submarine capability. The Sjöormen class limitations had been acknowledged from the outset, with the boats being considered only a

Singapore   149 transitional type. Plans for newer and more capable submarines showed that Singapore did not intend to overreach itself by acquiring an entirely new and even unique design. This caution probably reflected the heavy demands being placed upon the national industrial infrastructure in producing the Formidable class frigates. In November 2005, the Defence Ministry revealed that two ex-­Royal Swedish Navy Västergötland class boats would be purchased, entering service from 2010.88 Both boats were to be modernized and equipped with air independent propulsion (AIP) systems before transferring to the Singapore Navy.89 The first, Archer, was formally commissioned at Changi on 2 December 2011, having arrived in country in August. The second submarine, Swordsman, was expected to enter service later in 2012.90 Although the modernization required extensive modifications to the original design, including tropicalization, an equivalent refit incorporating AIP had already been conducted in the remaining pair of the class in Swedish hands and the lead Swedish unit was at sea. Singapore therefore was avoiding many of the risks associated with parent navy status by continuing its close relationship with the Swedish Navy. Although it already possessed a submarine rescue capability based on two chartered vessels, the RSN decided to procure a dedicated submarine rescue system, comprising mother ship and rescue vehicle. The decision was announced in March 2007 and the system entered service during early 2009.91 The increases in force levels and capability were not achieved without strain. In January 2003 the patrol vessel Courageous was so badly damaged in collision with a merchant ship that she was a constructive total loss. Notwithstanding its emphasis on training, the RSN came under criticism as to the level of professional standards amongst its sea-­going personnel. Amongst measures to improve skill levels, a small but permanent sea riding team was established later in 2003 to provide regular efficiency assessment of the sea-­going fleet and to ensure consistency through sharing lessons learned.

Expanding horizons RSN capability improvement led to an ever more expansive approach to operations and engagement with other navies. In 1999 the RSN contributed amphibious capability to the UN peace-­making operation in East Timor. This deployment was soon followed by the RSN’s first global circumnavigation, conducted in 2000, by the new landing ship Endurance. More substantial efforts followed this primarily symbolic voyage, including seaborne logistic support to Singaporean peacekeeping forces in East Timor in 2002. Singapore also became an active member of the WPNS, a forum to encourage naval cooperation. The WPNS, formed in 1988, held its first ever at sea exercise in Singapore during June 2001 – the Western Pacific Mine Countermeasures Exercise and Diving Exercise. Seventeen

150   Singapore ships from 14 regional countries participated in what was the first of a series of such exercises.92 In May 2007 Singapore hosted a WPNS tactical exercise in which most of the 18 member navies took part. Significantly, the RSN’s portable situational awareness and email tool (ReMIX) provided the common operating picture to all units.93 The RSN hosted the first Western Pacific submarine rescue exercise in October 2000, involving Japanese, Korean and US submarine rescue systems and observers from several other submarine operating countries.94 The Singapore Navy’s response to the tsunami on 26 December 2004 confirmed its significant humanitarian aid capability. Within seven days one of the RSN’s LSTs, RSS Endurance, was off the West Sumatra coast and within a short time had landed heavy equipment and helicopters to assist with disaster relief. The Endurance was subsequently joined by two other LSTs, Persistence and Endeavour after the scale of the disaster had become clearer.95 Earlier evidence of the Navy’s growing capacity was shown in the deployment of the Endurance to the Northern Persian Gulf in late 2003. The deployment, to assist with and provide support, including command and control, to the operations protecting Iraqi oil terminals, was followed up by Resolution in March 200596 and became a regular commitment by the RSN.

Security operations The terrorist attacks against the US on 11 September 2001 brought a new focus on local security and counter-­terrorism. This was partly driven by Singapore’s policy of providing berthing for USN aircraft carriers at the new Changi Naval Base.97 USS Kittyhawk had used the facility for the first time on 22 March 2001.98 But the nation was clearly vulnerable in other ways and new efforts were made to improve both international cooperation and internal security arrangements. In July 2004, the ‘Malsindo’ Malacca Strait Coordinated Patrols were established with the Malaysian and Indonesian Navies. They helped to reduce piracy and sea robbery in the region and were supplemented by the continuing coordinated Singapore and Indonesian naval patrols in the Singapore Strait. These patrol regimes were coordinated, not fully cooperative, and were small steps in developing a truly systematic approach to shared maritime security. A further and highly significant measure in September 2005 involved the beginning of coordinated Malacca Strait air patrols; the so called ‘eyes in the sky’ flights involving Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia, in which aircraft from each nation carried observers from the other member states and shared the results of the sorties. These and other activities, apart from their operational successes,99 provided the basis for other advances. In September 2006 the Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia (ReCAAP) was signed by sixteen nations and immediately came into force. The associated Information Sharing Centre was established in Singapore.

Singapore   151 The drive to improve national arrangements for maritime security saw the restructuring of Coastal Command in 2004–2005. In January 2005 the Fearless class patrol vessels were transferred to the Command and a dual crewing regime introduced for these ships and the smaller inshore patrol craft, to allow greater utilization. Later that year the two squadrons were merged. In addition, 180 Squadron was established to provide shipping data analysis and situation monitoring from ashore and Accompanying Sea Security Teams (ASSeTs), which would be placed on selected merchant ships if the threat required.100 Development of an Information Fusion Centre was a high priority for Singapore. An interim facility became operational at Tuas in March 2008, before the mature solution, which was part of a new C2 Centre which opened at Changi in April 2009. This C2 Centre also included both the inter-­agency Singapore Maritime Security Centre and a Multinational Operations and Exercise Centre. The combination provided a comprehensive capability for maritime domain awareness and the conduct of surveillance and response operations. This leap in capacity had already been recognized in February 2009 by the further evolution of Coastal Command into the Maritime Security Task Force. Operationally responsible to the Chief of Defence Force, the Task Force had the ability to call on other agencies, including the Police Coast Guard, Maritime Port Authority, Immigration and Customs departments for information and assets.101

A focus on technology – towards the future At the end of the first decade of the new century, the RSN has evolved into a well balanced Navy, able to ‘project force well offshore’.102 As well as the Table 8.1  Republic of Singapore Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

Type

1972

1982

1992

2002

2012

1 1 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 N/A

Frigates MPA AEW&C Submarines Corvettes Missile craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Patrol craft Landing ships

– – – – – 2 6 – 2 1

– – – – –  6  6  2 14  6

–  4  4 –  6  6  6  2 24  5

–  5  4  3  6  6 12  4 12 + 74**  5

 6  5  4  3  6 – 11  4 57**  4

Sources: Jane’s Fighting Ships; The Military Balance. Notes ** All patrol craft progressively shifted to Police Coast Guard. Those listed greater than 14 metres in length.

152   Singapore frigates and submarines, the force comprises missile armed corvettes, patrol vessels, a capable minewarfare force and significant amphibious lift capability – able to lift the equivalent of 88 main battle tanks and over 2,000 troops over open ocean and several thousand more troops over protected waters.103 Underpinning the RSN’s force development success has been long-­standing and substantial investment by the Singapore government, fuelled by strong and sustained (until 2008) economic growth. In 2006, defence accounted for nearly 33 per cent of government spending and in 2008 the planned defence expenditure was US$10.8 billion.104 The onset of the global financial downturn in 2007–2008 coincided with the winding down of what had been a long-­running major modernization of the Singapore Armed Forces.105 While Singapore recovered relatively rapidly from the severe impact of the crisis on its economic growth rate, defence spending is unlikely to enjoy significant real increases in the immediate future and the path for the RSN, as well as the Armed Forces as a whole, is likely to be one of consolidation. The RSN’s continuing focus on command and control and information fusion reflects a determination to be at the forefront of technological development. The approach is probably best described by the then Chief of the Singapore Navy, Rear Admiral Lui Tuck Yew in comments to a Technology Seminar in May 2001, when he noted that: For a navy with a strength of only 4,500, it is especially important that we constantly provide our warfighters with platforms and weapon systems that that are consistent with the latest technologies so as to multiply the combat potential of every individual.106 The acquisition of the Lafayette class and the contribution of indigenous development to the weapons, sensor and computer fit of the frigates is a tangible expression of that ambition. Research into anti-­ship missiles, anti-­ missile missiles, unmanned aerial vehicles, the multidimensional information net, the mobile offshore base, submersible surface ships and high performance computers indicate future intent.107 The RSN concentration on high technology and especially information technology, indicates a keen desire for the Navy to be able to operate as and within an integrated force and to encourage the opportunities for force transformation and new operating concepts that emergent technologies enable.108 Limited personnel numbers and this focus on technology also demand a technically competent workforce and a functional support organization. The RSN and the Singapore Armed Forces overall, maintain a lean administrative and support structure, an endeavour substantially assisted by the close proximity of every element within the organization to every other. Nevertheless, the steady development and evolution of training, technology, maintenance and logistic elements has seemed almost inevitable and will need to continue if the RSN in particular is to achieve its ambitions.

Singapore   153 One indication of its recognition of the need to cope with an ever more complex environment has been the recent creation of a career structure for technical experts, as part of measures to improve retention. The retirement age has also been extended to 60 and the balance between national service and permanent personnel continues to move in the direction of the long service element. While the defence of Singapore and its maritime approaches will remain its paramount role, the future RSN is likely to have an ever more significant part to play in the region, whether as part of multinational and bilateral maritime security efforts in Singapore’s immediate vicinity or as a key element of any multinational task forces in a high intensity contingency. Even with limited numbers, Singapore’s Navy constitutes the most capable naval force in South-­East Asia, a position for which the nation’s Government has long aimed and which it will be unlikely to relinquish, however effective the modernization programmes of its neighbours.

9 The Royal Thai Navy

The RTN* shares with the Indonesian Navy the regional peculiarity of being a service developed without much outside influence. Thai culture and politics mean that the RTN is much more closely involved with and influential in domestic affairs than the navies of most other Asian states. It is a difficult organization to analyse. Planning processes bear little resemblance to Western methods, the budgetary system is a labyrinth to the outsider and threat perceptions are skewed more towards internal security than is generally the case for navies. Nevertheless, the RTN is developing and may be improving in many areas, particularly logistics and maintenance, in which historically it has been weak.

Background: 1865–1932 The modern RTN began with the purchase of a corvette and four gunboats from France in 1865.1 These first RTN steam powered warships enjoyed long, if somewhat erratic careers. The Thai approach to modernization accepted European advisers, but kept actual control of the Navy firmly in Thai hands.2 The lack of technically trained nationals severely restricted the service’s pace of development but, at a time when Thailand was under considerable pressure from the colonizing Western powers, political reliability was more important than sophisticated skills. Notably, even in the late nineteenth century, Thailand selected the smaller ‘non-­ imperial’ European states such as Denmark and Sweden for assistance rather than the UK or France.3 Although Thailand purchased more modern surplus warships from the UK in the 1920s, including orders for two small coast defence vessels in 1924 and 1928, the RTN did not begin any coordinated modernization until after the revolution of 1932. This ‘constitutional’ coup was motivated by military officers and civil servants who sought to replace the centralization of power in the King and royal families with a constitutional monarchy and limited parliamentary government. Many of the best intentions of those behind the 1932 coup foundered in the bitter factionalism and political conflicts of the next two decades, which also saw the Royal Thai Army

Thailand   155 and the RTN play greater roles in government, reflecting increasingly conflicting political stances by the two services. This rivalry would come to a head after the Second World War.

Modernization in the 1930s Meanwhile, the RTN funded a considerable expansion between 1934 and 1938. Purchases from Italy and Japan included two large coast defence vessels, nine large torpedo boats, four sloops and minelayers and four submarines.4 Construction of a new naval base was started at Sattahip, south-­ south east of Bangkok on the Gulf of Siam (now the Gulf of Thailand) in 1937.5 This was significant in acknowledging that the RTN sought a true sea-­going fleet to protect the eastern seaboard. While the operational capacity of many of the new ships remained limited by shortages of trained personnel and operating funds, by 1939 the RTN possessed a credible coastal defence force and had greater ambitions. Two small cruisers were ordered from Italy and a naval air arm, primarily for reconnaissance and gunnery spotting, was established with Japanese assistance. These capability improvements reflected Thai policy at the outset of the Second World War. Although Japan was never wholly trusted, the increasing weakness of Britain and France encouraged efforts to regain the territories which had been ceded to the Western powers over the preceding 90 years. Thai attempts to annex provinces from French Indo-­China brought about sporadic fighting in late 1940 and RTN forces were deployed to protect the eastern coasts. These ships maintained a defensive posture, remaining in anchorages at Sattahip and Ko Chang, but the French became increasingly concerned. On 17 January 1941, a French task group comprising the light cruiser Lamotte-­Picquet and four sloops descended on Ko Chang. The action was a tactical success for the French, who despite sustaining some damage, sank two torpedo boats, forced the coast defence ship Sri Ayuthia ashore and so damaged her sister ship Dhonburi that she eventually capsized while under tow. Thailand, however, gained the strategic victory. Japan intervened to order a truce and soon settled the dispute largely in favour of the Thai claims.6 In such an atmosphere, Thailand inevitably entered the war on Japan’s side after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Japan helped the RTN in salvaging both Sri Ayuthia and Dhonburi, although the latter was never again fully operational. But the war very quickly affected the Navy’s efficiency. The Italian Government requisitioned both the cruisers under construction in 1941, by which time the flow of spare parts from Italy had already ceased. Similar problems soon emerged with Japan. A project for four additional coastal submarines was cancelled and the informal assistance programmes which had developed between the RTN and the Imperial Japanese Navy halted. The low priority which Thailand received for increasingly scarce oil supplies further

156   Thailand restricted the activities of the RTN such that, by early 1944, it had become moribund. Despite their inactivity, Thai forces were not spared from the air attacks mounted against the Japanese in South-­East Asia in late 1944 and 1945. The sloop Tachin became a constructive total loss after an Allied air strike against Bangkok on 1 June 1945 and other units were damaged.

Recovering from the war Thus, in late 1945, the RTN was in poor condition and faced an uncertain future. Thailand’s prospects for rehabilitation with the Western powers were unclear; there was little or no foreign exchange and the Allies were unlikely to support any attempts to modernize the Thai armed forces. Neither Italy nor Japan was capable of supplying parts for the RTN’s ships, even if they could be paid for. The national credit of the Navy was low; some political factions openly lamented the fact that Allied forces had not destroyed the entire fleet to save the cost of its upkeep.7 Nevertheless, the RTN soon opened cautious negotiations with the British for replacement ships. The visit to Bangkok in January 1946 of the Supreme Allied Commander, Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten, indicated British acceptance of legitimate, if restricted, Thai defensive requirements and gave some prospect of assistance. The RTN’s goals were considerably more moderate than in 1938. The Navy wanted to sustain a submarine force but small escorts and light craft suitable for riverine and inshore work were a higher priority. Thus, when the British, concerned by both the financial implications and the possibility of giving ‘the Americans an opportunity of saying we were substantially re-­arming the Siamese’, chose to ignore the initial Thai request for two ‘S’ class submarines, the RTN quickly took the hint.8 After some haggling over terms, an Algerine class minesweeper and two ex-­Indian Navy Flower class corvettes were transferred in April 1947. These quite limited ships allowed the RTN to resume occasional sorties into the Gulf of Thailand. The parlous state to which the Navy had been reduced was made clear when the C-­in-C ordered the Fleet to leave Bangkok in early 1947, to avoid being embroiled in the capital’s political situation. Only 12 ships – less than half the effective strength – were able to get under way in what was the first group movement since the war.9 US links with the anti-­Japanese movement, which had developed in Thailand during the war, were already strong10 and meant a surprisingly relaxed attitude towards arms transfers from Britain. The US was certainly more comfortable associating with an independent South-­East Asian state than it was with the local colonial powers. Although the Americans had yet to develop their anti-­communist agenda, by late 1946 limited amounts of military and economic aid began to flow. Military assistance, for the next 20 years, was directed principally at the Army and the Royal Thai Air Force (RTAF ), but the RTN initially secured the transfer of several landing craft.

Thailand   157 This was followed from March 1947 onwards by three coastal minesweepers and the first of 11 submarine chasers for the patrol force. These vessels allowed the RTN to fulfil its coastal and riverine patrol and transport tasks – which would become the Navy’s main contributions to internal security. As the situation in China and in Indo-­China deteriorated, Thailand’s defence concerns turned inland, taking with them the RTN’s priorities. Without a naval threat, pressing requirements for both riverine and inshore forces to assist the Army pushed aside arguments for expenditure on sea-­going units. The corvettes and minesweeper could be maintained in reasonable condition but it was 1950 before the RTN attempted to conduct group training on any scale, with a five ship cruise in the Gulf of Thailand.11 There was something of a renaissance for the RTN in 1949–1950. Increasing prosperity and the government’s need to placate the military meant bigger budgetary allocations. The naval air wing was regenerated, first through the purchase of ten Firefly FR1 reconnaissance fighters and two trainers from the UK, and then by the transfer of Helldiver bombers from the US.12 The RTN seriously contemplated refitting the four old submarines with new batteries, principally for training, but also with a view to retaining some expertise until Thailand could afford new construction.13 The RTN also found itself embroiled in an increasingly bitter dispute with the Police, who coveted the Navy’s coast guard role and the control it conferred over smuggling and illegal immigration. Attempts to secure the RTN’s coastal operations budget, by transferring it to the Ministry of the Interior in November 1950, failed after strenuous resistance by the Navy, but the Police achieved a compromise, gaining responsibility for inshore and coastal anti-­smuggling work while the RTN was confined to deep water operations. This was clearly unsatisfactory and it led to further conflict with the Police and their increasingly influential commander, General Phao Siyanon.

The RTN in politics The coast guard dispute reflected the instability of the Thai government between 1948 and 1951. Coup was followed by attempted counter-­coup, and the RTN and the Marine Corps sided with the conservative Democrat Party Group, which had been ousted by elements of the Army in April 1948. The Marines were deeply involved in a revolt in Bangkok in February 1949 and both they and the RTN suffered in the subsequent purge, although the Navy managed to limit the effects. Later, the probability of a renewed showdown between the RTN and the government of Field Marshal Phibunsongkram increased steadily.14 The Navy’s concerns were not wholly domestic, seeing the potential for a wider role in the increasing Western alliance emphasis on naval cooperation against the emerging Soviet threat. Thailand’s eagerness to support

158   Thailand the anti-­communist policies of the United States led it to provide forces for the UN ‘police action’ in Korea in 1950, following the signing of a military accord with the United States earlier that year. The RTN quickly sent both Flower class corvettes and a support ship to the theatre of operations. The Americans appreciated the ‘magnitude’ of the Thai contribution but soon realized that the corvettes required refit, re-­armament (the 100 rounds of four inch ammunition in each ship represented the entire RTN reserve of that type of shell) and training before they could deploy.15 Conditions in Korea posed a considerable challenge to the Thai ships and their crews. On 7 January 1951, Prasae became separated from her task unit in a snowstorm and went aground on the Korean coast, just north of the 38th parallel, in hostile territory. Heroic efforts to refloat her failed and Prasae had to be destroyed by Allied forces on 13 January after evacuating the crew by helicopters.16 Both the RTN and the US wanted to retain the Thai presence in Korea, so negotiations were immediately opened for the transfer of more modern and better equipped escorts. These discussions were still progressing when, on 29 June 1951, elements of the RTN and the Marines abducted the Prime Minister, Marshal Phibunsongkram, and imprisoned him in the fleet flagship, Sri Ayuthia. The conspirators intended to install the Democrat Party of Khuang Aphiawong as the government, but the Army, Police and RTAF reacted drastically and decisively. The combination overran the Marines ashore and, on 30 June, combined air attacks and shelling sank the Sri Ayuthia and the patrol vessel Khamronsin at their moorings and damaged two torpedo boats. With the escape of the Prime Minister from the sinking Sri Ayuthia, the rebellion collapsed and all resistance had ended by the following day.17

The RTN in retreat The other services determined to break the power of the RTN and the Marines, and without the commitment to Korea, the Navy might have ceased to exist. Most of the surviving surface ships were disarmed by removing their breech blocks; the RTN’s budget was cut drastically and the officer corps was purged of all elements not known to be loyal to the ruling regime. The remaining RTN senior officers were supplemented by the appointment of loyal civil servants or army officers. The authorized RTN strength was reduced dramatically through the discharge of two-­ thirds of the enlisted personnel and the halting of recruitment.18 The naval air wing was handed over to the RTAF and the submarines were placed in unmaintained reserve, since the RTN’s future roles were to be confined to coastal defence, minesweeping and anti-­submarine warfare. The Police consolidated control of operations against smuggling and illegal immigration and immediately established their own marine wing.19 The Marine Corps was reduced to a security battalion of only 1,000 men,

Thailand   159 reincorporated as a ‘naval’ rather than a marine unit and moved from the capital to the naval base at Sattahip.20 Only in 1952 were the breech blocks returned to the RTN and sailors’ recruitment recommenced.21 The long-­term consequences for the RTN were profound. The Navy lost most of its political influence, although individual naval officers would occasionally achieve high government rank in the future. The RTN only really began to regain ground from the Army and the RTAF in the 1980s, as a new generation of ‘post-­1951’ officers achieved high rank. Furthermore, the RTN’s funding remained tightly restricted. This limited operations and acquisitions and forced the Navy to rely more openly on commercial operations for financial support, particularly in salaries.22 Such institutional ‘moonlighting’ was common in Thailand and increasingly involved the other services. In the early 1950s, it was a matter of survival for the RTN. Ostracism also strengthened the Navy’s links with the Americans and reinforced RTN enthusiasm for the Western alliance, not least so that the RTN could find credible roles and access cheap equipment. Significantly, the post-­coup suppression did not interfere with the negotiations with the USN for escorts to operate off Korea or for the continuing transfers of smaller craft. Conditional on the RTN continuing deployments to Korea, two Tacoma class frigates were transferred in October 1951 and commissioned as Prasae and Tachin. This allowed the remaining corvette, Bangpakong, to return to Thailand.23

The Navy and the Maritime Western Alliance Thailand itself wanted closer association with the United States. Initial concerns over the advent of the Communist regime in China were heightened by China’s active role in Korea and its support of insurgency in Vietnam. Thailand had always feared the prospect of a united and expansionist China. With communist activity in Malaya, the implication that the Chinese community in Thailand might act as a ‘fifth column’ and the deteriorating situation in Indo-­China, Thailand felt that it needed friends. After the French withdrawal and the partition of Vietnam, Thailand signed the Manila Pact in September 1954, which initiated SEATO as a collective security arrangement between the western powers and the anti-­communist independent South-­East Asian states.24 Thailand’s principal aim in acceding to SEATO was to guarantee its territorial integrity, but the maritime nature of the alliance and of South-­East Asian geography dictated some naval focus, spurred by the increasing western fears of a growing Soviet submarine fleet and a resurgent Communist Chinese Navy. Thus, the RTN was able to make up for some of the losses of 1951. The service began building to its full authorized strength and resumed group exercises in the Gulf of Thailand. The Marine Corps was reactivated in 1954, with Royal approval following in February 1955. The Navy required

160   Thailand the Corps for riverine work and to provide an amphibious capability within the Gulf. The Army, increasingly concerned with the external threat to Thailand, did not contest the proposal to reform the force with six battalions.25 That the Navy was gaining favour became clear in November 1954, with a successful Fleet Review before the King and a demonstration amphibious assault by the existing marine battalion. Notably both events, for the first time, included significant contributions from other services.26 From 1956, the RTN exercised regularly in SEATO and bilaterally with the USN, which provided submarines for ASW training and continued to station a MAG in country.27 Nevertheless, the RTN did not expand as it wanted in the 1950s. Most of its limited share of US military assistance provided small patrol craft, landing craft and river gunboats for the Mekong River and other internal or inshore work. Repeated efforts to have the Italian-­built torpedo boats and the old submarines refitted for ASW training foundered through a lack of foreign exchange and their poor condition. The RTN even briefly considered refitting Dhonburi and the old Tachin in Japan, despite their age and decrepitude and the damage sustained during the war. The Navy was hamstrung by inadequate infrastructure and hideous logistics and compatibility problems, which resulted inevitably from its multiple sources of ships and retention on the active list of clearly obsolete vessels. These issues remained (and remain) emblematic of the RTN for many years. The RTN’s quandary was its residual belief in the need for a fully sea-­ going fleet for national defence, when there was neither the domestic support for nor the domestic capability to maintain such an organization Furthermore, the US, the major source of Thai military assistance, did not perceive this need as a priority. The small RTN commitments to SEATO naval exercises were warmly welcomed for their political value, but there were greater threats to Thai security than those from the sea. Additions to the RTN in the late 1950s and during the Vietnam War reflected this judgement. The escort force, whose contributions to SEATO activities were hampered by the age and obsolescence of its ships, gained some relief through the transfer of a single destroyer escort from the USN, commissioned as the Pin Klao in 1959.28 Through the 1960s, the Americans preferred to supplement the mine warfare, river patrol and amphibious forces because of their obvious utility in the Indo-­China conflict. Thus, four coastal minesweepers were transferred between 1962 and 1965 and large numbers of small patrol vessels and landing craft from 1962 onwards.29 The RTN resuscitated its naval air wing, with the transfer of ten S-­2 Tracker ASW aircraft by the US in 1967–1968, but there was no doubt that their maritime surface surveillance capabilities were a key factor behind the American gift. They were all needed by the heavily committed Thai armed forces. In addition to Chinese and Vietnamese backed insurgency in the east and north, there was an active rebel movement near the Malay–Thai border, a

Thailand   161 legacy of the ‘Emergency’ in Malaya, combined with local Muslims’ enthusiasm for separation from Buddhist dominated Thailand. Inevitably, border and river patrol occupied much of the RTN’s energies during the Vietnam War and this generated progressive increases in the strength of the Marine Corps, from six battalions to six regimental units, and in the numbers of naval personnel employed inland. In May 1966, the RTN also matched the Royal Thai Army’s deployment of troops to Vietnam with the despatch of two landing vessels.30

Realignment and the ‘Guam Doctrine’ The implications of American withdrawal from Indo-­China became clear with the enunciation of the Nixon Doctrine in 1969 and brought immediate results for the RTN. The Thais could not be sanguine about the long-­ term survival of the anti-­Communist regime in South Vietnam. This raised the prospect of a united Vietnam and the resumption of historical Thai– Viet rivalries, as well a redoubled Communist insurgent effort against Thailand itself. With Laos and Cambodia also in Communist hands, the northern and eastern borders would be completely exposed.31 Thailand sought peaceful coexistence with its neighbours, but strong armed forces would be essential in ensuring the country’s sovereignty.32 The RTN’s first priority was to strengthen the riverine effort with American transfers of equipment and small craft, largely coming from US forces leaving Vietnam. But Thailand had also to look to the Gulf of Thailand, which would no longer be dominated by the American Seventh Fleet. The sea-­going force received modest support, initially with American help through refits of the older frigates and orders in 1969 and 1971 for US-­ built light frigates. Improved financial conditions allowed the RTN to look elsewhere for equipment and to order a new construction frigate from the UK in August 1969. Makut Rajakumarn would mark the beginning of a credible Thai surface warfare capability. The need for such a capability became more obvious through the 1970s. Thailand’s maritime security came under pressure from several directions. The fall of South Vietnam in 1975 led to an outflow of refugees by land and sea. These refugees required close supervision, to prevent disruption within Thailand itself and to protect the seaborne escapers. The overcrowded and unprotected refugee boats proved easy targets for ‘pirates of opportunity’ within the Gulf of Thailand. When raids on refugees spilled over into attacks on Thai fishermen, policing these waters rapidly became a primary task of the Navy.

Maritime boundaries Developments in the law of the sea created new boundary disputes for Thailand, even as overfishing within the Gulf became an increasing

162   Thailand concern. Both Cambodia and Burma declared 200 mile EEZs which were not agreed by Thailand and which affected traditional and recent Thai fishing areas.33 Thai fishermen were themselves ranging further afield as fisheries became an increasingly important export industry. Simultaneously, the Gulf of Thailand was showing considerable commercial natural gas potential, and by the late 1970s, the World Bank had been approached for a loan to cover the costs of development.34 Apart from adding another dimension to the delineation of Thailand’s own EEZ, the prospect of commercial gas facilities within the Gulf also raised the requirement for their physical protection. Furthermore, the Vietnamese Navy was being progressively strengthened by the Soviets, as the latter began to operate from Cam Ranh Bay. While little useful naval equipment had been left by the South Vietnamese regime, the RTN was now facing the reality of a developing Vietnamese naval capability numerically and technologically superior to itself. The RTN turned to FAC-­M and ordered three, armed with the Israeli Gabriel missile, from Singapore in 1973 for delivery in 1976–1977.35 The Government, however, prevented further capital expenditure until after the fall of Saigon in April 1975. Then, funds were made available to take over the American facilities at Sattahip and, as part of a general Armed Forces’ development, the Government sought baht 20 billion in foreign loans for new equipment. Just under a quarter of these funds would be allocated to the Navy.36 The major immediate benefit for the RTN was the order for three more missile craft, this time Italian and armed with the longer ranged Exocet missile.37 With the commissioning of Makut Rajakumarn in 1973, the RTN was developing the nucleus of a capable surface action group. To some extent, the Navy was enjoying the ‘benefits’ of an improved domestic political position and the emergence of a real external threat. In 1977, when another military coup was in train, its leaders (including the next Prime Minister, General Kriangsak Chomanan) sought to broaden their power base by allowing services other than the Army a share in senior positions.38 This helped the RTN to attempt to extend its horizons and matched the new government’s intentions to modernize the armed forces and improve military ‘self reliance’.39 The critical element in military policy development in this period was that the Services were ‘compelled for the first time in the twentieth century to take [their] external defence role seriously’.40 Any coherent defence policy for Thailand needed a maritime element, which greatly strengthened the Navy’s position, at least in principle. In 1977, a five year programme to develop a naval base at Phang Nga on the West Coast began, partly with the assistance of US funds. This allowed the RTN to patrol Thailand’s disputed maritime boundaries with Burma and the entrance to the Malacca Straits.41 The following year, the RTN decided to expand its ship repair facilities and develop its warship

Thailand   163 building capacity. Ship construction had been intermittent since the 1950s, but had largely concentrated on patrol craft, without sophisticated sensors or weapons systems. The first step in this new direction was an order for a mine countermeasures support ship from Bangkok Dock.

The threat from Vietnam This staged expansion programme was overtaken by the events of 1978 and 1979. Vietnam’s invasion of Cambodia and subsequent massing of troops at the Thai border constituted an urgent threat. There were armed clashes between the Thais and the Vietnamese in June 1980, and the Soviets heightened the tension by passing the Minsk aircraft carrier battle group through the Gulf of Thailand in October–November 1980.42 The Navy’s immediate response was limited. The nature of the threat determined that most funds, particularly from US emergency assistance, were directed to the reorganization of the Army towards fighting large-­scale conventional land battles rather than the counter-­insurgency operations with which it had been primarily concerned over the preceding three decades.43 Significantly, Thailand’s first joint military planning efforts in a civil-­ military environment were made at this time under the National Economic and Social Development Board, which set up a permanent sub-­committee for Economic and Security Co-­ordination at the end of 1980. This sub-­committee developed a ‘worst case’ threat appreciation of an attack on Thailand by Vietnam, with limited support from Laos and Cambodia. The air and naval elements of such an offensive included ‘300 combat aircraft, 6 frigates and some 50 attack naval craft’.44 While Thailand would have needed external help to deal with such a threat, the assessment underscored the growing strength of maritime forces within the region and the need for Thailand to respond to this. The RTN produced an increasingly sophisticated and ambitious programme for the ‘defence in depth’ of the Gulf of Thailand in light of the increasing commitment to natural gas production and other marine activities. Planning began for a submarine force, expansion of the naval air wing to include more modern maritime patrol and fighter/strike aircraft, doubling the number of effective surface combatants and equipping them with more sophisticated weaponry and the production of indigenous amphibious ships to replace the elderly US-­built units. The RTN’s infrastructure and antiquated logistics system were to be modernized, and more money allocated to improving local ship construction facilities. The ‘Eastward look’ of the defence in depth concept reflected the RTN’s greater concerns with the Gulf of Thailand and the South China Sea than with the Indian Ocean and the Malacca Strait. The Navy had cause for this fixation. The 1982 LOSC confirmed the EEZ concept and, while Thailand benefited by gaining an EEZ of nearly 95,000 square miles,

164   Thailand it also lost direct access to the high seas to the east and the west. The LOSC magnified the existing problems of fisheries; the increasingly active Thai industry found itself the source of tension between Thailand and other littoral states in the Gulf ‘and was the foremost bilateral problem with Malaysia’.45 Such difficulties were never likely to escalate to outright hostilities, but they required much greater presence and surveillance activity to protect Thai interests.

The limits on expansion This ambitious – perhaps over-­ambitious – programme was interrupted several times over the next decade, largely through increasing costs and funding restrictions. The RTAF did not support the Navy expanding its naval air wing to include fighters, despite the Air Force’s reluctance to operate such aircraft over water. Within the Navy, factions sought to gain priority for one or other component of the expansion plan.46 Together with the limited funding and the annual Thai armed forces commanders’ reshuffle, commitments were delayed. The Navy’s political and planning limits were demonstrated by the progress of its expansion efforts between 1982 and 1984. Projects to purchase a Spanish Descubierta class light frigate and South Korean missile craft were abandoned in favour of two US-­sourced large and highly sophisticated missile corvettes. Apart from Harpoon missiles from the US, the RTN acquired highly capable (and very expensive) light-­weight torpedoes from the United Kingdom for these ships and for its three Fokker F27 maritime patrol aircraft, purchased from the Netherlands in 1984.47 In 1984, two mine hunters were ordered from West Germany, with an option for up to four more of the same class, possibly to be built in Thailand.48 The RTN also ordered a 3,500 t landing ship for construction in Thailand, while the large and small patrol craft building programmes continued. The indigenous orders represented an investment in Thai development in the face of far cheaper (and probably timelier) foreign construction.49 However, in what would become a recurrent theme with RTN projects, nothing came of the additional mine hunters, and the pair – which had significant issues with their mine hunting systems ­– remained ‘orphans’. After SEATO lapsed in the early 1970s, the RTN pursued closer links with other regional navies, thereby gaining an important opportunity to compare its standards with navies other than the USN, with which bilateral Sea Cobra exercises continued. Thus, between 1980 and 1983, exercises began with the RMN (Thalay) and the RSN (Thai-­Sing) and increased in frequency with the TNI-­AL (Sea Garuda).50 Even the PN, which did not exercise with other ASEAN navies, occasionally operated with the RTN in Exercise Sea Philtha.51 There were regular passage exercises with visiting ships of the RAN. Cooperation began cautiously with Malaysia over the continuing piracy problem within the Gulf of Thailand and both countries

Thailand   165 attempted a joint approach to the refugees who continued to leave Indo-­ China by sea. The Training Squadron was despatched on cruises as far afield as Australia. While it included aged and obsolete units (such as the Maeklong, 47 years old in 1984), the squadron gave a clear indication of the RTN’s ambitions.52 These activities were progress indeed, but they required unprecedented spending by the RTN. Consequently, the Navy would soon be hard-­pressed to provide the additional resources needed operate and maintain the new systems. Thus, the announcement in 1983 of the RTN’s intention to buy two patrol submarines ‘by 1985 at a projected cost of US$95 million each and that thereafter Thailand would build its own submarines, was greeted with considerable scepticism and disbelief ’.53 The submarine project conflicted with the RTAF ’s intent to purchase F16 fighter aircraft from the US, a project that enjoyed greater political support within Thailand. It was also being pressed as the Thai government began to realize that ‘parity’ with Vietnam in armaments was impossible and that defence spending for the ‘strategic defence’ element, that is the active Armed Forces, had to be restrained in favour of economic development. Following Indonesia’s lead, the Thai government declared that ‘national stability’ was the first priority of its security doctrine.54

Easing tensions Vietnam’s difficulties within Cambodia also eased fears of outright invasion of Thailand. Border security problems remained, but Thailand’s progressive rapprochement with China was a counterweight to Vietnam and ended active Chinese support for Communist insurgency within Thailand. Combined with continuing and strong US support and the generally more active role of ASEAN in regional affairs, Thailand’s relationship with China allowed it to view the future more confidently. Furthermore, the relationship allowed the government to limit defence spending, there being little real growth for three years after 1985.55 The Thai Armed Forces argued in 1988 that they had suffered, in reality, a drop in spending.56 The RTN received just over 20 per cent of the defence vote,57 providing very little flexibility in light of its existing commitments. Apart from a second Thai-­built landing ship, there was a three year holiday from new orders. When the 1988 budget foreshadowed a small increase, the Naval C-­in-C admitted that ‘The allocation for weapons and equipment will remain unchanged as the increase will be used to provide welfare such as housing for personnel . . . the Navy now has to decide between a submarine and other equipment’.58 That choice came in September 1987 when the RTN opted for three Khamrosin class 62 m ASW corvettes to be built locally with Vosper Thorneycroft help. Apart from improving the surface combatant force capability, these ships were much more within the capability of existing Thai

166   Thailand shipbuilding facilities than submarines of any kind. The Police eventually followed the RTN’s example with an order for a simplified version of the class in 1989.59 The RTN began to sense other solutions to achieving the required force levels on a limited budget, even as the ‘defence in depth’ concept advanced a step further. The Navy argued that it should assume entire responsibility for protection of the eastern seaboard from seaborne attack and sought foreign assistance to develop an integrated defence system. Given the reduced insurgency problem, this would provide a new and challenging role for the Marine Corps in both fixed defence and amphibious warfare and would justify the fighter/strike force which the Navy still wanted. Cabinet gave agreement in principle in April 1988, but without approval for any expenditure.60

High-­low The RTN viewed the scheme as the ‘high’ element of what was coming to be a ‘high-­low’ approach to force structure planning. The key to the ‘low’ component would be China. With Thailand’s economy booming, the Armed Forces, hitherto relatively restrained in their spending in the national interest, were determined to secure their share. The Thai Army had already turned to China as a source of cheap arms and both the RTN and RTAF were now examining the possibilities. The Air Force, accustomed to Western equipment, was not attracted, but China’s offer of cheap frigates – at something like a sixth of the cost of Western combatants – enabled the RTN to secure enough patrol and training frigates to replace the aged Japanese and American-­built units remaining in service.61 The RTN probably envisaged these four ships as the first of many purchases from China. Dissatisfaction with the German-­built mine hunters had created interest in Chinese minesweepers,62 while there were Romeo class submarines which the Chinese may have been prepared to sell.63 However, the very basic state of Chinese naval technology militated against such acquisitions. Even in the case of the frigates, the RTN would have preferred to equip them with Western weapons and sensors, but the Chinese insisted on a full fit-­out of Chinese equipment. In 1989 the RTN ordered two more, larger frigates for construction in China, but this time the Thais were successful in their insistence on Western equipment to be fitted in Thailand.64 Perhaps there was a reason for the Chinese frigates being cheaper than their European counterparts, with problems including dissimilar metals corrosion, inadequate damage control capability and wiring discrepancies.65 This forced the RTN to dock the four Chao Phraya class vessels on arrival to bring them up to a reasonable material standard and made the Thais much more cautious – and prepared to insist on European technical assistance – in the building of the two much more capable Naresuan class frigates.

Thailand   167 Between 1989 and 1991, the RTN proposed several other ambitious projects, most connected with the coastal defence plan. An experimental Coast Guard Squadron was set up in April 1989 and allocated a frigate, some smaller patrol vessels and surveillance aircraft. Unable to update its small fleet of S-­2 Tracker maritime patrol aircraft because of their age, the RTN sought P-­3 Orion aircraft from the US.66 As ever, funding was problematic. This also affected the plan for integrated defences on the eastern seaboard67 which was now competing directly with an equally ambitious RTAF programme for an integrated air defence system in the south.68

Uncertain priorities Some confusion became evident in the RTN and its planning processes, the result of continuing factionalism. While the submarine project remained a vague long-­term commitment,69 the Navy strove to create a fighter wing based on up to 30 A-­7 Corsair II aircraft70 and enquired about securing surplus frigates and guided missile destroyers from the USN. Other proposals included three enlarged Thai-­built corvettes, as well as destroyer or frigate construction in country. The cost and personnel implications of all these schemes remained unstated. Furthermore, the eastern seaboard programme included a large component of Marines’ equipment, such as light tanks and mobile artillery, for the integration of their existing regimental organization into an all-­arms division.71 Creating greater concern was another project for an amphibious unit which mutated by stages from a helicopter-­capable LPD, to a German helicopter support ship of 7,800 t72 and thence to a Spanish 12,000 t straight deck helicopter carrier, capable of operating STOVL aircraft.73 By 1992 this project had assumed the highest priority within the Navy, but the RTN’s justification for the ship was tenuous. It had outgrown the initial conception of an amphibious vessel for Marine Corps operations – smaller units would be operationally more flexible –and the suggestions that it would be useful for disaster relief operations in Thailand’s south. These arguments had some merit in the wake of a 1989 typhoon74 in the area, but the same arguments of scale applied. The existence of another agenda was indicated by repeated comments about the need for tactical naval aircraft, obvious interest in the Harrier and the size of the design finally settled upon.75 Apart from the RTAF ’s unhappiness at the prospect of the Navy acquiring embarked fixed wing aircraft – at unit prices which rivalled those of their own F-­16 – other nations in the region were concerned at Thailand’s acquisition of the first maritime power projection ship to be operated by a member of ASEAN since Indonesia’s cruiser in the early 1960s. It was difficult to place the carrier in a sensible operational context for either the east or west coast.

168   Thailand

Progress of a kind Despite the perceptions of undisciplined planning, the RTN grew to a force of 56,000 people by late 1994, including 24,000 Marines, 8,000 members of the Air and Coastal Defence Command (ACDC)76 and 2,000 in the Naval Aviation Division.77 These numbers reflected the growth in RTN force structure as well as its plans for the future, which stressed offshore operations. The numbers, however, did not reflect accurately the RTN’s operational capability. In 1999, some 27,000 of its personnel were 24 month conscripts, representing both a significant training load and a continuous loss of at least some experience.78 Furthermore, most ships were crewed up to 35 per cent below complement, necessitating topping up from other ships for those deploying to sea.79 The combat forces themselves were divided into three numbered Royal Thai Fleets; the First based in Sattahip, the Second in Songkhla and the Third in Phang Nga.80 While the Marines had a base in Sattahip, their primary operating areas were along the Thai–Cambodian border and in the south of the country. They had a credible amphibious assault capability, supported by 155 mm towed artillery and, in 1996, the Navy Chief, Admiral Prajet Siridej, approved plans for the acquisition of armour in the form of a tank company.81 The end of the Cold War and the withdrawal of Vietnamese troops from Cambodia reduced the land-­based threat to Thailand and ensured a higher priority for maritime security needs.82 Oil and gas exploitation and fisheries continued to gain economic importance83 and Thailand expected that issues arising from maritime boundaries and the maritime domain could cause future conflict.84 Thus, the RTN tried to develop a real two-­ ocean capability, to match the extent of Thai maritime interests, including a good deal of seaborne trade,85 95 per cent of which passed through the Gulf of Thailand.86 The growing emphasis on maritime security was also reflected in the 1995 decision to build the RTN’s third regional base at Phuket, to support Andaman Sea operations.87 Furthermore, Prime Minister, Chavalit Yongchaiyudh, in mid-­1997 committed to provide additional funds to help the RTN counter oil smuggling. Some 50,000 barrels were allegedly being smuggled into the country each day and in 1996 it was said to have cost the government baht nine million in lost revenue.88 Other evidence for this thinking emerged from an exchange of fire between Thai and Vietnamese patrol craft in the Gulf of Thailand after Vietnamese attempted to seize Thai fishing boats in May 1995.89 The incident occurred despite both countries having previously committed to resolving maritime border disputes. Joint Thai and Vietnamese Navy patrols and intelligence sharing activities were eventually agreed90 in a memorandum of understanding signed by the chiefs of both navies in Vietnam in June 1999.91 Similar difficulties existed with both Burma and Cambodia over unresolved maritime borders and, in early 1996, both the Burmese and the Malaysians seized Thai fishing vessels.92

Thailand   169

More force structure issues Confirming the shift to offshore operations the RTN ordered a 22,000 t replenishment ship from China to support the carrier and its escorts.93 While some neighbouring countries appeared nonplussed by Thailand’s significant naval developments, the RTN argued that they were a reasonable response to the introduction of EEZs and the growing need to protect international and domestic maritime trade. Furthermore, the RTN still expected to establish a submarine force at some point and to rejuvenate its mine warfare capability. The RTN also declared that its operational focus remained primarily in a traditional area of operations, the Gulf of Thailand, but with a growing interest in the Andaman Sea.94 Underscoring RTN plans, Thailand’s 1996 Defence White Paper, The Defence of Thailand 1996, set a defence spending target of not less than 2 per cent of GDP per year.95 It also sought the provision of two submarines. The RTN’s eclectic approach to procurement remained evident, however, in the 1996 request for a surplus USN Knox class frigate, together with additional Harpoon surface-­to-surface missiles.96 The ship was transferred on lease and arrived in Thailand in November 199897 to join a unit of the same class transferred earlier.98 Two Italian Gaeta class mine warfare vessels were ordered in September 1996.99 Then, even more diversity of suppliers was provided by the purchase of three patrol craft and three LCU from a consortium including the Australian Submarine Corporation in the late 1990s.100 The RTN’s plans for naval aviation caught the most attention, externally because of the unique regional capability they represented and internally for their cost and demands on the Navy. Confirming that the aircraft carrier was intended for roles beyond disaster relief, there was interest in embarked tactical naval aircraft. Spain (with US government approval) offered to sell the RTN surplus Matador (AV-­8 and TAV-­8) STOVL close support and reconnaissance aircraft.101 The RTN also ordered six Sikorsky SH-­60B Seahawk ASW and surveillance helicopters for embarked operations.102 Additionally, three P-­3B Orions, including one airframe for utility tasks, joined the existing force of Fokker F-­27 Maritime, GAF Searchmaster (Nomad), Dornier 228 and Canadair CL-­215 maritime patrol aircraft. This combination of existing and new ships and aircraft from a variety of countries would have been enough to stress the training and logistics support functions of virtually any navy and must have posed substantial challenges to the RTN. In fact, they were likely to remain the source of most of the RTN’s problems.103 The carrier, Chakri Nareubet, was launched in Spain on 20 January 1996 and, for her size, was a very capable ship indeed. She could operate a maximum of 15 Sea King size helicopters or 12 Harrier-­type STOVL jet aircraft.104 The ship incorporated a long-­range search radar and a Spanish-­ designed command and control system,105 and had provision for an eight

170   Thailand cell vertical launch system (presumably for NATO Sea Sparrow surface-­toair missiles), up to four close-­in weapons systems (probably Phalanx), two fire control directors, electronic support measures and a bow mounted sonar.106 These systems were to be fitted in Thailand, as budgets allowed. By the end of 1998, the RTN had fitted three Sadral sextuple launchers for Mistral short-­range surface-­to-air missile systems107 but little more would follow.

Progress interrupted again The regional financial crisis that began in Thailand in mid-­1997 and spread throughout South-­East Asia impacted severely on the country, particularly on the military.108 The Cabinet made three large cuts in the 1998 national budget, after approving it in August 1997. Consequently, defence funding was reduced by 23 per cent. The situation was compounded by the 60 per cent devaluation of the Thai baht after the currency was floated in July 1997.109 The crisis stymied procurement plans, and caused reductions in operations by the Thai military forces, including withdrawal of the Chakri Nareubet from the annual Cobra Gold exercise. Exercises with neighbours also suffered, those with the RMN resuming only in late 1999.110 Not only was the new carrier’s sea time limited, but the Matador STOVL aircraft were grounded for part of 1999 for lack of spare parts.111 This led the Deputy Defence Minister to wonder publicly about the wisdom of buying apparently ‘cheap’ ‘used weapons of dubious quality’.112 It also resulted in the US providing 20 Rolls Royce Pegasus engines for the Matadors during Exercise CARAT 99.113 Financial difficulties had already been the major factor in delaying the re-­introduction of a submarine capability by the Navy. At the beginning of 1995, the Thai Cabinet had approved a US$800 million programme to buy three advanced submarines.114 Potential suppliers included Germany’s HDW with the Type 209, Sweden’s Kockums with a version of the A 19 Gotland class, RDM of the Netherlands with a smaller derivative of the Walrus class and Russia’s Rosvoorouzhenie with a Kilo class variant.115 Although some submarine officer training had already been undertaken, by June 1995 there were suggestions that the programme would be delayed116 and, even before the regional financial crisis, Thailand’s current account deficit caused the submarine programme to be halted for at least one year.117 It would be some time before there were again serious prospects for such an acquisition.

The Royal Thai Navy in the twenty-­first century In the first decade of the twenty-­first century, the RTN worked hard to overcome the effects of the late 1990s financial problems, despite growing political instability. Significantly, the national strategic focus had shifted

Thailand   171 away from conventional military issues. The main security threats were by this time either internal or of a non-­traditional kind. Unrest in southern provinces adjoining Malaysia escalated to a low-­level insurgency in 2004. The RTN had only a limited role in countering the problem, although the Marine Corps was heavily involved in drug interdiction and refugee control along the Cambodian border. Thailand’s domestic security difficulties encouraged cooperation with neighbouring countries. The Thai and Indian Navies considered joint Andaman Sea patrols, to interdict smuggling and illegal arms trans-­ shipment from southern Thailand to Sri Lanka.118 while the RTN participated in the second WPNS mine warfare exercise, involving 15 members in April and May 2004, in Indonesian and Singaporean waters.119 Limited exercises were conducted with the PLA-­N, reflecting both growing Chinese influence in South-­East Asia and recent RTN equipment purchases. Cooperation also remained quite strong with the US military, with the closeness of the relationship being reflected in President Bush’s nomination of Thailand as a major non-­NATO ally in October 2003.120 This status entitled Thailand to priority access to defence equipment and increased intelligence sharing, but it was subject to the political uncertainty in Thailand. Indicating the need for a range of such relationships, the RTN signed an MOU (on behalf of the Thai military) with South Korea’s Defence Acquisition Program Administration in August 2008. There was an expectation of technology transfer to Thailand and the return purchase of Korean ships and other equipment.121 Most noteworthy, in December 2005 Thailand joined the other three Malacca Strait littoral countries (Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore) in establishing standard operating procedures to deal with piracy in local waters. Joint coordinated patrols had already been put in place by the other three countries the year before. The new agreement included provision for hot pursuit into neighbouring territorial waters.122 Intriguingly, however, and indicative of the constraints on operational funding, the RTN was a relatively infrequent contributor to international peace support operations, with one landing craft carrying rice to the UN mission in Somalia in 1993 and participation in the UN peace enforcement operation in East Timor in 1999.

A lack of funding certainty Although Thailand’s military modernization plans were determined mainly by domestic security concerns and the need to recover plans delayed by the 1997 financial crisis, they could not escape the strictures of limited and sometimes volatile defence budgets. The ambition for a capable blue water force, including submarines, remained a strong focus of the Navy’s efforts, but there remained disconnects between the available budget and the Navy’s ambitions, as well as the balance between

172   Thailand equipment and support. The improved economic situation enabled the Thai defence budget announced in September 2003 to provide a funding increase of 15 per cent, most of which was expected to go to the Army and Air Force. The additional money would not necessarily do much good, however, particularly for the Navy. Military reforms agreed in 1999 to reduce costs simply had not worked by 2002, when 60 per cent of funds went to personnel costs. Consequently, a Navy proposal in 2003 to spend baht 1.4 billion on the aircraft carrier, helicopter sonars, eight patrol boats and repair of six Harrier aircraft, was rejected initially.123 Still, RTN ambitions continued to include a future submarine force, two frigates from the UK and new sensors and weapon systems for Chakri Nareubet.124 The next major purchases, however, included a multipurpose hydrographic survey ship of a Netherlands design to be built in Thailand. Ordered in December 2005, this continued the RTN’s unfocused approach to equipment procurement125 and to indigenous industry. Coincidentally, the RTN contracted a Chinese firm to deliver two 95 m OPVs at a cost of about US$98 million.126 They were commissioned in Thailand in December 2005 and April 2006. The RTN’s ‘open source’ approach to the acquisition of ships clearly also applied to helicopters. The RTN had planned to buy four helicopters for operations from its frigates, but funding irregularities in the previous programme caused the government to cancel that plan.127 Actually purchased were two Agusta Westland Super Lynx 300 multirole helicopters, which entered service in February 2005. They joined 203 Squadron at Utapao Naval Air Station and were expected to serve there and embark in the Naresuan class frigates, in the ASW and anti-­surface warfare roles.128 A little more than a year later there were reports of a possible sale of six MH-­60S utility helicopters through the US Defense Department’s Foreign Military Sales arrangement.129 The Super Lynx multi-­role helicopters were typical of the problem, partly self-­created, that the RTN faced. With no additional units being purchased, this was yet another capability falling far short of any pretence at achieving critical mass and sustained operational availability. By March 2001 the submarine programme had recovered to the point that the RTN was considering leasing two units from Germany – although other countries remained as possible suppliers. There was, however, caution within the Navy and the Government over commitment to such a demanding new capability, as well as considerable resistance to the proposal within the Thai community. While there was an announcement over interest in two Israeli-­type boats,130 little more was heard for the next few years. There was also a report in January 2007 which seemed to confirm that two long wished-­for British-­built frigates would be ordered from BAE Systems;131 in fact, much less would come of this in the form of a Thai-­built OPV. Completing the procurement plans for the first half of the new

Thailand   173 decade, the RTN built three Tor-­991 class patrol boats at the Bangkok Naval Dockyard between 2004 and 2006. All three of these 39 m craft were commissioned between April and December 2007. Future ambition was represented by a newly expressed need for two LPDs, amphibious ships of up to 9,000 t, to be acquired between 2006 and 2010.132 The extent of the country’s financial difficulties became evident in the Thai government determination in late 2005 to use barter trade to finance military procurement.133 Nevertheless, the Thaksin Shinawatra government established a nine year development plan for the period 2006–2014, which was to include two frigates and two LPD beginning in 2006, four OPV beginning in 2009 and two submarines, beginning in 2012. This plan was, of course, affected by the military coup on 19 September 2006, of which the RTN had been largely an observer, until its leadership gave their cautious support to the new regime. The new military sponsored government attempted to compensate for the post-­1997 stringencies with large increases in the 2007 and 2008 defence budgets.134 Yet, there were serious doubts that the funding increases would lead to sensible equipment purchases, without major reform of the Thai military structure.135 The 2009 defence budget, approved in September 2008, confirmed the recent trend of significant funding increases, reaching baht 175.3 billion (over US$5 billion). Although the ongoing unrest in the southern provinces was a primary cause for the funding increases, there was also an attempt to counter the effects of a loss of value of the baht.136 Importantly, the additional funding allowed the acquisition of one of the mooted LPDs to progress. The contract for the ship and associated watercraft, was let late in 2008 and the LPD, Anthong, was launched on 21 March 2011 in Singapore.137 Although the desire for a submarine force was heightened by the Singaporean and Malaysian acquisitions, funding remained the major obstacle. By late 2007, there was some optimism within the Navy that, after the December election, the new government would fund a purchase of two second-­hand boats.138 Even so, there were fears as to whether the RTN would be able to support submarines in service and even the King of Thailand expressed concern in his speech from the throne. The 2008 Defence White Paper was more positive, noting that submarines would be ‘efficient deterrent weapons’ and pointed specifically to the need to balance the RTN’s capabilities against those of ‘neighbouring states’.139 Nevertheless, planning continued to be marked by confusion and delay, despite increasingly strident declarations by the RTN’s leaders. The announcement in March 2011 that the Thai Prime Minister had agreed to the purchase of six second-­hand Type 206 submarines from Germany was not the last word in the saga.140 Within months there were suggestions that the buy would actually be of four units, with two more for spares, while an alternative proposal for a newly built pair of boats from South Korea was floated. Reports later in 2011 that the Cabinet had approved a buy were soon

174   Thailand denied141 and the RTN had to be content with a Prime Ministerial assurance in December 2011 that the project was still alive, but that it had not yet even been considered by Cabinet.142 That considerable domestic opposition existed towards the commitment was undeniable, as was the suggestion that the RTN could not afford to acquire another largely token capability.143 At the start of 2012, it was clear that the Thai government expected the RTN to do more to justify the capability and the expenditure.144 By late March the government’s doubts had been confirmed and the proposal was allowed to lapse.145 Both Thailand’s capacity to pay for capability and the RTN’s real priorities were more accurately reflected in the launching of the new British designed offshore patrol vessel of 90 m, Krabi, from a Thai shipyard in December 2011.146

The Royal Thai Navy – prospects At the end of the first decade of the twenty-­first century, the RTN retains its ambitions for regional blue water naval force status, but remains hamstrung by recurring financial problems, ongoing political instability and limitations of organization and infrastructure. Although the two most recent military budgets have resulted in significant increases in funding, history suggests that not all of the additional earmarked funds will necessarily equate to equipment acquisition147 or to the associated logistic and training support. The RTN may be attempting to do too much, relative to what the service is capable of in the short and medium term and in what are seen by others as less than legitimate roles. The order for a 12,000 t aircraft carrier was a major controversy, being widely felt to be beyond the needs and the capabilities of the RTN. A ship able to operate STOVL aircraft was a departure for ASEAN navies welcomed by few in the region and only the fact that the RTN’s use of the ship has been so limited has prevented the ship being a source of irritation. Coincidentally, the RTN’s aerial patrol and surveillance capabilities remain less than adequate, as does the mixed force of organic helicopters. The RTN’s plans may also be affected by the failure to complete a programme to make the Thai military an all-­volunteer force by 2009. Internal opposition means that the organization will remain characterized by the conscript-­dominated Army rather than evolving into a more technologically capable force. This, the lack of a clear external maritime threat and the cost of naval capability are likely to conspire to limit the realization of RTN ambitions.148 To be fair, the RTN has recently conducted two successful deployments to the western Indian Ocean to support multinational anti-­piracy ­operations. Each, conducted in September–December 2010 and in July– November 2011, has involved the replenishment ship Similan and one of the new OPVs.149 Both deployments were successful, but to stage them the RTN required additional funding from the Cabinet and it is significant that the selected units included the only capable support vessel, as well as

Table 9.1  Royal Thai Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

Type

1952

1962

1972

1982

1992

2002

2012

1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 N/A

Small carriers Destroyers Frigates Replenishment MPA AEW&C Submarines Coast defence ships Corvettes Missile craft Torpedo craft Gun craft Mine warfare vessels Large patrol craft Small patrol craft Landing ships

(1)  3 – – – (4)   2 (1)   4 (3) – (5) –  6   8 (3) 10 –

–  4 – – – –   1 (1)   4 (3) – – –  8   9 (2)  8  5

–  4 – – – – –   3 (4) – – –   4 (2)   7 (3) 34  8

–   4 (1) –  8 – – –   2 (1)  6 –  1  5   6 + 2** 32 + 8** 11

–  8 – 11 (6) – – –   5 + 1**  6 –  3  6   9 + 3** 46 + 33** 11

 1 – 10  1  7 – – – 10 + 1**  6 –  3   5 (2)   6 + 5** 49 + 38**   8 (2)

 1 –   9 (1)  2  7 – – –   9 + 1**  6 –  3   5 (2)   6 + 5** 51 + 40**  7

Sources: US Office of Naval Intelligence Review; Jane’s Fighting Ships; Combat Fleets of the World; Conway’s All the World’s Warships 1947–1982; The Military Balance. Notes Key: 2 = EFFECTIVE; (2) = INEFFECTIVE ** Second figure refers to other maritime agencies. Approximate estimates only in these categories. + Basic capabilities only.

176   Thailand the newest surface combatants. It is probably not too much to suggest that annual deployments on such a scale represent the present limits of the RTN’s capacity. Consequently, for the immediate future, the Navy will continue to focus on protection of offshore oil and gas platforms in the Gulf of Thailand and the support of fisheries in the Gulf and in the Andaman Sea. It will also continue to monitor disputed maritime borders and nearby SLOCs,150 for which tasks patrol craft and land-­based aircraft will generally suffice. Certainly, the aircraft carrier and its very limited air wing contribute little if anything to them. Only two AV-­8S aircraft are thought to be operational and the Seahawk helicopters probably operate only from shore bases.151 In the current climate, carrier aviation is unlikely to receive the funding boost needed to make it a credible operational force. The other elements of the naval air arm will continue to exist as a fleet of small numbers of diverse types, mainly focused on ASW and maritime patrol.152 The surface combatant force comprises nine frigates and nine corvettes or OPVs.153 Six of these ships were commissioned before 1990 and the 17 originate from four different countries. They are supported operationally by an extensive and excessively diverse force of patrol craft of 15 classes.154 A small number of these patrol craft (and several aircraft) are rotated monthly through the still evolving Coast Guard. Almost 50 of these craft have been in service for more than 25 years and are, by any measure, due for replacement.155 Other support forces include a small coastal and riverine mine warfare group and an amphibious force of over 60 mostly small and old landing craft, but soon to be boosted by the LPD. There are also several auxiliaries, but only two sea-­going underway replenishment ships, indicating a limited capacity for surface force deployment and sustainment. Many of the smaller ships and patrol craft may not be replaced when they finally wear out, or will be replaced piecemeal, thus perpetuating the long-­standing mix of forces. Although the RTN does not yet appear to have suffered unduly as a result of the current global economic crisis, there is no indication that it will receive the kind of funding needed to ensure a rational approach to force development in the near term. For the foreseeable future then, the RTN will continue to harbour blue-­water ambitions, but will remain limited in its capacity to realize those ambitions and, despite its recent deployments in the Indian Ocean, to project naval force to any great extent and at any distance.

10 The South Vietnamese Navy

Introduction The origins of local naval forces in Vietnam after the end of the Second World War reflected the confusion and developing conflict between Vietnamese factions seeking independence, as the Japanese departed and a French regime bent on restoring control over its colonies. From the declaration of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam on 2 September 19451 by the Indo-­Chinese Communist Party under Ho Chi Minh, many believed that France would never regain the colonial grip that it had possessed before 1940. The Viet Minh approach was ‘long-­term resistance war, self-­ reliance, and the appropriate fighting principle: guerrilla warfare and eventually advancing to mobile warfare’,2 a strategy which culminated in the humiliating French defeat at Dien Bien Phu in 1954. Efforts to establish non-­Communist Vietnamese forces were stymied by the dubious legitimacy of the successive French-­endorsed local governments. Apart from the fragmented and often corrupt administrations which frequently proved incapable of coherent governance, factors such as French reluctance to allow military capabilities not under their direct control, or which might compete for the limited pool of literate manpower also contributed. Thus, although conflict rapidly escalated between the French and the Communist Viet Minh, development of local pro-­ French forces was fitful and protracted. Ironically, for naval capabilities, this occurred despite the intensifying war having a significant waterborne dimension from the outset. The French Navy had contributed much to French reoccupation efforts,3 took riverine operations seriously from the beginning, and criticized the French Army for not using the rivers more effectively.4 Inland waterways had long been important in Vietnam – a landward extension of sea power.5 The two major river basins, the Red and Mekong, were heavily travelled, and even in peacetime most traffic in the north was riverine.6 For example, the Red River was navigable all the way to the Chinese border. Initial French activity involved locally available river craft, either Vietnamese or ex-­Japanese, modified with armour and some armament. Some ex-­British vessels,

178   South Vietnam including infantry landing craft (LCI), assault landing craft (LCA) and LCT were also used. By 1946, the French Navy had organized river flotillas.7 Each could transport and land about a battalion group and its equipment. This relatively successful concept was later copied by the US.8

The beginnings of a Vietnamese Navy A Vietnamese Navy did not appear formally until the Franco-­Vietnamese Agreement of 30 December 1949, which gave further independence to the Vietnamese non-­Communist government. The Agreement called, amongst other things, for the French to provide the cadre and training for a Vietnamese Navy.9 The French were uncertain how to do this, with the Army even opposing the thought of a separate Navy at all.10 Naval authorities in Indo-­China initially considered an exclusively riverine force with secondary sea-­going capabilities. The local French command feared that manning a Vietnamese Navy would impact on providing Vietnamese recruits for the French Navy.11 Matters were also complicated by the Vietnamese Chief of State, Bao Dai seeking assistance directly from the US.12 On 23 March 1950 he asked Washington for ten gunboats, six dispatch boats and several destroyers.13 The French strongly opposed direct support of this kind since they believed that the Vietnamese could not use it.14 In Paris, the Naval Ministry understood the need for a long-­term approach15 and grew increasingly impatient with the lack of progress.16 The French plan for the new Navy, completed in April 1951, called for two naval dinassaut17 (river assault group) divisions in 1951, a recruit training centre in 1952, several river flotillas in 1953, four ‘district motor’ or YMS-­type minesweepers in 1954 and for a seaplane squadron in 1955.18 The French Naval Ministry added a corvette, two escort ships and four minesweepers for offshore work – the first to be made available in 1952.19

The Vietnamese Navy comes into being On 6 March 1952, Bao Dai signed Imperial Ordinance No. 2, officially establishing the Vietnamese Navy.20,21 In May, the French Military Mission in Vietnam reorganized to include a department charged with ‘commanding, administering, and managing the units of the Vietnamese Navy and directing its development’.22 A modified plan for the Navy proposed that the two dinassauts be delayed until 1953, along with a flotilla of 30 river boats and three minesweepers.23 Additionally, the Vietnamese Naval Staff was to stand up in 1954 and a coastal patrol flotilla was to be created by integrating Customs service boats with the Navy. The first Vietnamese Navy unit, formed on 10 April 1953, was a dinassaut comprising five machine gun-­armed landing craft. It operated in the Mekong Delta and was based at the junction of the Bassac and Can Tho rivers. The still brittle nature of the new Navy was emphasized by the unit being manned

South Vietnam   179 by and commanded by the French, while flying the Vietnamese flag.24 The second group formed in June 1953 and was based at Vinh Long. The French Mission’s Navy Department wanted a firm development plan for the Vietnamese Navy. The French naval advisors proposed additional recruiting to bring personnel strength up to 2,700.25 The task was hindered by the growing number of agencies involved, and by diverging views in Paris and Saigon. Naval authorities in Paris eventually confirmed the first phase of the 1952 Plan and proposed a second for 1955–1959 which would see the induction of patrol ships and escorts, as well as amphibian aircraft.26 Progress and growth were very slow, as the Navy was very low in overall Vietnamese military priorities.27 The Navy was effectively dominated by the Army, as it was subordinate to the mainly Army-­manned Armed Forces Joint General Staff,28 which controlled the budget for all Vietnamese military forces. The 1,500 men that the new Vietnamese Navy contributed to the so-­called ‘delta war’ remained under French tutelage and command29 and the dinassauts were actually under Army control. Only the tiny sea force was under Navy command and even then the coastal surveillance mission was shared with a paramilitary junk force.30 However, people were the major internal challenge confronting the new service. Some 400 Vietnamese had been recruited into the French Navy for local service. They were not an ideal foundation,31 because of illiteracy and a lack of technical education.32 These difficulties were exacerbated by an understandable French reluctance to divert hard-­pressed resources into training. Only in November 1951 had construction begun on the Vietnamese Navy Recruit Training Centre, located alongside Nha Trang’s deepwater bay.33 Its first class of 150 apprentice seamen and 25 Petty Officer candidates started in June 1952.34 From 1952, former merchant service officers received six months instruction in French Navy ships before assignment to French combat units for experience before commissioning the first Vietnamese Navy vessels.35 By the end of January 1953 there were also some 25 officer cadets enrolled in two-­year courses in French Naval Schools in France itself. The Navy was attempting a different – and more ambitious – naval programme than its French mentors, and thereby suffered from a weakened and divided effort.36 A petty example was disagreement as to whether the Vietnamese Navy would fly its own flag or the French one. France suspended the transfer of sea-­going vessels until the matter was resolved early in 1954 – in favour of the Vietnamese.37 In February 1953, however, Vietnamese and French authorities decided jointly on a supplemental programme for three additional river flotillas.38 This followed a separate decision to enlarge the Vietnamese Army to enable more offensive operations.39 For the first time, discussions considered whether the Army or the Navy should control the river flotillas.40 Nevertheless, the programme remained dormant for the remainder of the year.

180   South Vietnam Subsequently, French Admiral Auboyneau, Commander of the Forces Navales d’Extreme Orient (FNEO) proposed a further development, a complete riverine amphibious capability for the new Navy, incorporating naval infantry units, and a Vietnamese Marine Corps which was established on 13 October 195441,42 as a brigade of four infantry battalions each 1,100 men strong, an artillery battalion and an amphibious support battalion.43 Lack of certainty still affected Navy progress but eventually, on 15 February 1954, the Franco-­Vietnamese High Committee adopted a five year development plan. Thus, by 1958 the Navy would include four dinassauts, nine minesweepers, six escort ships, four medium landing ships (LSM), four large landing support ships (LSSL), 16 coastal patrol boats and sundry other support craft. The Committee determined that Vietnamese Navy personnel should be designated as Fleet for manning sea-­going ships, large river craft, and service units, and as Marine Corps to man the river craft and dinassauts, and for a landing force.44 From this point, the Vietnamese Navy continued to build slowly, despite the setbacks to the French cause as a whole. In February 1954 the French transferred three minesweepers, while the third dinassaut was formed in March 1954 and the fourth in August.

The United States becomes involved The little Navy was soon the victim of greater events. Assistance to the French Navy certainly helped to prosecute the war at sea and in the rivers, but these were not key theatres of operations.45 The Viet Minh continued to pressure the French on land and a critical phase of the war began on 13 March 1954 with the battle for Dien Bien Phu. Communist China and the Soviet Union had called for a negotiated settlement in Vietnam in mid-­ 1953, leading to growing domestic pressure on the French to comply. Dien Bien Phu fell on 7 May 1954 and the Geneva Conference began the next day. On 20 July the French and Viet Minh concluded separate agreements to conclude hostilities in Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. The Vietnamese Agreement also provided for the division of the country at the 17th parallel.46 It allowed for destroyed and damaged military equipment to be replaced, but prohibited the import of new military equipment.47 The Agreement permitted civilians residing in either of the two zones to migrate to the other, resulting in direct American engagement. The USN provided transport and, by 18 May 1955, American ships had moved more than 300,000 people to the South.48

After the Geneva accords This began a long-­term US involvement in South Vietnam. The US MAAG, which had been in country since August 1950, and now numbered 342,

South Vietnam   181 took advantage in the south of Ho Chi Minh’s preoccupation with establishing control in North Vietnam.49 Towards the end of 1954, the MAAG and the French Mission combined as an Advisory and Training Mission. Its tiny naval component comprised three US and two French officers and was headed by a French Navy Captain who also commanded the South Vietnamese Navy.50 The Navy’s personnel strength on 30 October 1954 was only 131 officers and midshipmen and 1,353 sailors, of whom 86 midshipmen and 233 sailors were under training in Vietnam and in France. French officers still filled most key positions and the Navy had contributed relatively little to the conflict.51,52 There was much to do. Development plans soon included establishment of a communications receiving station in Saigon and bases at My Tho, Can Tho, Vinh Long, Hoi An, Tam Ky and Quang Nhai.53 A Marine Corps, initially comprising a headquarters unit, four river com­ panies for duty with the dinassauts and one battalion-­strength landing force was also included.54 In January 1955, the US reaffirmed its backing for the emerging anti-­ communist elements under the French-­appointed Prime Minister, Ngo Dinh Diem and directed American military aid to the southern State of Vietnam. Reflecting the changing situation, in February 1955 the French announced the transfer of command of Vietnamese armed forces to Diem.55 Civil war followed and, in May, Bao Dai was deposed. Diem finally declared the Republic of Vietnam, with himself as President on 26 October 1955. In the same month, the South Vietnamese Ministry of Defence approved plans for an eventual 3,460 man South Vietnamese Navy and 3,820 man Marine Corps.56 May 1955 also saw the senior Vietnamese Navy officer, Lieutenant Commander Le Quang My, take command of the four dinassauts, ready for limited riverine work.57 In June, My’s forces operated successfully in the Mekong Delta, near Can Tho.58 In the latter part of 1955, LCMs escorted all shipping on the Long Tau and Soirap rivers to counter sporadic attacks. In September, Diem launched a major Army-­Navy offensive against the insurgents creating this problem. All four dinassauts were involved and, according to USN observers, performed well.59 Diem appointed Brigadier General Tran Van Dong (the Army Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations) also to be Commander in Chief of the Vietnamese Navy, following the final transfer of French naval command in July 1955. This was the result of differences between the French and Vietnamese over the appointment of Lieutenant Commander My.60 The French had threatened to remove all support, believing that My had misappropriated funds and otherwise behaved badly. However, as soon as possible, on 20 August 1955, Diem made My Deputy Chief of Staff (Navy) and C-­in-C of the Vietnamese Navy. The new C-­in-C promptly replaced all French officers in command positions with Vietnamese personnel, ending with those in the training schools in November 1955.

182   South Vietnam As the French departed, they proposed a reorganization for the development of the South Vietnamese Navy into Coastal Patrol, Riverine, Transport and Marine Forces, together with a Navy Headquarters. The centrepiece was to be a sea-­going force of patrol vessels and minesweepers, with an expanded riverine capability and a two battalion Marine Corps.61 The plan was approved on 7 December 1955 by the South Vietnamese Armed Forces Chief of Staff, General Le Van Ty.62 A further two year development scheme sought expansion of the Navy to 9,000 men by the end of 1957. It included provision of a transport force to lift an Army regiment, or provide for amphibious operations, while the Marine Corps was to be increased to a three battalion regiment.63 The minimum force level needed was assessed as being four destroyer escorts, ten patrol craft and 27 motor patrol boats for the coastal patrol force, as well as five dinassauts. There were also to be four LSTs and LSMs for the transport force and a squadron of amphibian patrol aircraft. General Ty agreed in principle and was prepared to cut Army numbers to permit the Navy’s expansion. This plan was the last major French contribution to the South Vietnamese Navy’s evolution.64 Its intent aligned with USN thinking65 and was realistic – if time would allow.66

Early development and operations The South Vietnamese Navy soon took shape as three operational divisions: River Force, Sea Force and Marine Force. An accelerated training programme was attempted, to overcome a major weakness.67 The three minesweepers were also attached to Nha Trang for training purposes. USN support was increasing with cadre training staff installed at at Nha Trang, but this facility could not meet the demand and its courses remained weak in maintenance, tactics and supply procedures.68 Further, the USN established a small unit in Saigon which took on shipborne training for the South Vietnamese Navy. Unsurprisingly, language difficulties emerged.69 Despite the acute need, at the end of 1955 naval strength was a mere 1,735, only 219 above the September 1954 figure. Access to the French training schools ceased as they withdrew and, by mid-­1956, Vietnamese personnel were being sent to USN establishments. Maintenance was also an issue. The USN provided refits in Subic Bay to substitute for the inadequate and costly French run dockyard in Saigon.70 Even after Vietnam gained control of it in September 1956, lack of manpower and technical expertise limited its output. Despite local recruiting and the import of some Japanese experts, Vietnamese supervised refit work did not start until August 1957. Meanwhile, South Vietnamese Navy operations continued in response to resistance against Diem. On 17 November 1955 a joint Army–Navy campaign was launched against the Ba Cut faction near Rach Già on the Gulf

South Vietnam   183 of Thailand. Two of the dinassauts took part. In December the Navy began patrolling the Mekong River from the Cambodian border to the sea and coastal waters from Cape Vung Tau to Hà Tiên.71 By the end of January 1956 a second front had been opened against the Hoa Hao insurgents in the Plain of Reeds. Four dinassauts operated on the Mekong and other waterways southwest of Saigon. The Navy also helped in the capture of Ba Cut in April 1956 when the Hoa Hao resistance collapsed.72 The Navy was surprisingly effective given its personnel state. It still had no officers older than 30 and French help was much reduced because of the ill-­feeling over My. The Navy’s junior status in the Vietnamese military was also a factor. My remained a Lieutenant Commander, while his Marine counterpart (and subordinate) was a Lieutenant Colonel – and the Navy still had no control over its funding.73

Naval development 1956–1965 Early in 1956 five sea zones were established from the 17th parallel to the Cambodian border and units, many merely converted junks, were organized into eight flotillas operating from Da Nang, Nha Trang, Vung Tàu, Con Son Island and later from Qui Nhon. The South Vietnamese Navy now inherited a large number of craft from the French, with the disbanding of the FNEO on 26 April 1956; the US having requested that their war aid equipment be left behind.74 The Americans provided 350 logistics experts to help the Vietnamese deal with this materiel. American assistance was still characterized by uncertainty as to what was needed and what could be absorbed by the Vietnamese, and the Vietnamese and the Amer­ icans differed over these issues. Nevertheless, to form the basis for US assistance, three missions were developed for the South Vietnamese Navy: • • •

maintain control and security of the inland waterways of South Vietnam; provide naval support to the other South Vietnamese Armed Forces; and maintain naval security of the coastal waters of South Vietnam, including the offshore islands within those waters.75

These were significant tasks and the Navy was far from being able to satisfy them all. Nevertheless, there were soon signs of a wider focus. The South Vietnamese Navy embarked on a well received goodwill deployment to Manila, Singapore and Bangkok. In early July 1956, the Navy sent a patrol craft, an LSM and two LSIL to the Paracel Islands and landed a Territorial Company in response to feared Chinese landings. It was to support operations in the Paracels until 1974. In August 1956, the patrol craft Tuy Dong stopped at Spratly Island while returning from refit in Subic Bay. Crew members hauled down the Taiwanese flag and hoisted South Vietnam’s in

184   South Vietnam symbolic occupation of the island group. Similar sovereignty protection (or advancement) activities were conducted in southern coastal waters and in the Gulf of Thailand. These included amphibious landings conducted ostensibly for training purposes.76 By 1957, the South Vietnamese Navy had grown to 4,800 men and River Force craft numbers had increased by about 50 per cent. At this stage, the River Force had six dinassauts, based at My Tho, Cat Lo, Vinh Long, Cat Lai, Can Tho and Long Xuyên. The Marine Force had a river company for each dinassaut and a battalion landing team.77 Throughout the year the Navy patrolled in the north from a new base at Dong Ha, repatriated Vietnamese expelled from Cambodia, exercised in the Gulf of Thailand and investigated alleged Cambodian seizure of Vietnamese fishing craft. It also resupplied Army units along the coast and waterways. There was great pride in the Sea Force, which was coming to symbolize South Vietnam as a nation and which now included five large coastal patrol vessels and a small survey ship. The Navy itself had ambitions of conducting blockade operations and conducting amphibious assaults, which the US thought unattain­ able, for the key weakness of lack of technical expertise at all ranks remained.78 Navy leadership became a problem again. The now Captain My was still head of the Navy but had a rival in Lieutenant Commander Ho Tan Quyen, who had backing within the Army and in the bureaucracy.79 My was criticized for wanting a Navy bigger than was believed necessary. Eventually, in November 1957, he was sent to the US Naval Postgraduate School for ‘training’ and Quyen became the Chief in his stead.80 The MAAG had helped Quyen to formulate a new organizational plan, which was approved by President Diem. It established a Naval Deputy commanding a naval staff, a shore facilities command and the three operating commands, and brought the supply function under naval control. All other logistics activities, including the Saigon shipyard, remained with a Director of Naval Technical Service who was responsible to the General Staff and the civilian bureaucracy.81 By 1959, what had been low-­level conflict changed character as guerrilla activities in the south once again approached a state of insurgency.82 The South Vietnamese Navy, in response, grew from 5,000 officers and men in 1959 to 8,162 personnel in late 1964 and doubled to a force of 44 sea-­ going ships and over 200 landing craft and other vessels.83 The additional ships, including patrol vessels, provided by the USN gave the Sea Force greater capacity to meet its responsibilities, while the inland elements were also steadily expanded.84 Despite this, key issues remained which cut to the heart of the service’s capabilities. The Navy suffered from personal rivalries, corruption and maladministration within the officer corps. Inexperienced and risk averse officers could not provide the level of leadership needed and sailors endured poor pay, austere living conditions, badly maintained and

South Vietnam   185 85

supported equipment and inadequate training. US support increased, but there were language difficulties and cultural problems for the advisers – as well as some unwillingness to look at issues from the Vietnamese perspective.86 By 1960, the USN assessed the Vietnamese Navy overall as a mediocre operational force. Similar assessments were made in both 1961 and 196487 and, in retrospect, they were accurate. Matters were not helped by continuing political turmoil, both within the Navy and in South Vietnam generally. Captain Quyen was murdered after the coup which ousted Diem in November 1963,88 beginning a period of instability which lasted until 1966 and which hamstrung professional development.89 It was marked by increasing factionalism among the officer corps, the exiling of many senior officers and inept leadership.

The River Force: 1956–1965 To be fair, the Navy was committed to operations on an ever-­increasing scale. The River Force was its primary combat arm and operated with the Army in the vital Mekong Delta.90 Specially configured American landing craft enabled the establishment of two 19 boat, 250 man river assault groups (RAG) in Saigon.91 Other RAGs were based in My Tho, Vinh Long, Can Tho and Long Xuyên. Special transport and escort groups were formed from late 1960 for the protection of cargoes and troops. A River Force Transport Group was established to provide logistics support for the River Force. Based in Saigon, this Group was made up mostly of LCUs capable of carrying up to 150 tons of cargo. A River Escort Group provided security to convoys of sampans sailing from the lower Ca Mau peninsula to Saigon. It comprised several LCMs as monitors, several armoured LCVPs and almost 20 old ex-­French patrol boats. The Group succeeded in curbing the Viet Cong’s capacity to tax local producers and to manipulate commodity prices in Saigon.92 The only territorial command of the Vietnamese Navy during the war was the Rung Sat special zone which covered the main shipping channel joining Saigon and the open sea.93 The RAGs normally operated with the Army and Air Force under the operational command of the local Division Tactical Area Commander or Province Chief.94 The Force’s activities, through the assault groups, forced the Viet Cong to extraordinary counter-­efforts. The preferred Viet Cong approach involved waterway barriers in the larger canals and rivers. However, the Force had its limitations. Inadequate technical expertise and poor maintenance practices impacted on capability. Additionally, the Navy and Army rarely launched amphibious assaults against the Viet Cong.95 Many craft were used in static or other defensive roles by the Army and, despite the evident courage and sacrifice of River Force sailors, their efforts were not fully rewarded.96

186   South Vietnam

The Coastal Force In 1956, the junks already in patrol service were augmented by 50 civilian manned junks for inshore work immediately below the 17th parallel.97 More junks were added in 1960, together with some modest repair facilities. A ‘mixed force’ of 84 command junks, 140 motorized junks and 320 sail-­powered junks was established in 1963.98 The Americans enthusiastically supported the initiative with both advisors and equipment and promoted some standardization in design and a significant updating of production methods.99 In 1964, efficiency was improved by the arrival of a new US and Japanese provided motorized junk, the Yabuta class. Later, in July 1965, to ease personnel problems, all junks were fully integrated with the South Vietnamese Navy and included within what was designated the Coastal Force. Despite this amalgamation, personnel difficulties continued – along with problems in providing repair facilities and base defence. By the mid-­1960s the Coastal Force comprised 28 coastal groups of nine to 24 junks, operating from 22 bases. Four of the bases accommodated two or three groups to assist with base defence.100 From its inception, the Coastal Force’s primary mission was curtailing seaborne infiltration, especially through night operations.101 Its effectiveness was limited by the lack of any real operational cooperation between the US and South Vietnamese navies, largely the result of incompatible communications and language difficulties.102 Still, although less than half of the force was ever on station at any one time and combat patrols were sometimes nominal, the Coastal Force searched hundreds of thousands of coastal craft and destroyed a number of junks, sampans and other small craft carrying munitions and personnel.

Offshore operations From December 1961, the US Seventh Fleet and South Vietnamese Navy conducted joint patrols along the 17th parallel from the coast east to the Paracel Islands.103 These patrols helped to train the Vietnamese in open sea operations and to determine the extent of waterborne infiltration from the North. A similar effort was mounted in the Gulf of Thailand to interdict infiltration from Cambodia. The shallowness of the water there limited the extent of direct cooperation and little evidence of infiltration was uncovered.104 In October 1963, with USN advice, the South Vietnamese Navy established four naval zone commands: from the First Zone in the north to the Fourth Zone in the Gulf of Siam. Operations in any zone were controlled by an overall commander whose area of responsibility corresponded with that of an Army corps commander.105 In February 1964 under Operational Plan 34A, South Vietnamese naval frogmen and boat crews, using USN patrol craft, conducted sabotage operations in the North.106

South Vietnam   187

Feeling the heat The South Vietnamese Navy was a force of 8,242 men, 44 ships and 200 other craft in early 1965, but it was not in good order. Officers and men in operational units paid little attention to maintenance requirements.107 Their indifference was compounded by the inability of repair facilities to manage a growing backlog of work flowing from the increased operational tempo and growth of the Navy, particularly with the arrival of bigger ships such as LSTs and coastal escorts between 1961 and 1963. Notwithstanding the work of the previous few years, operational performance was suspect. One example was the discovery of a North Vietnamese trawler unloading munitions on a beach in South Vietnam’s Vung Ro Bay on 16 February 1965. Despite urging by US advisors, the South Vietnamese were reluctant to remove the substantial arms cache found in the area near the trawler, being more interested in looting the medical supplies also discovered there. This minor action confirmed for US authorities that substantial arms shipments were moving by sea and that the South Vietnamese Navy would be unlikely to stop them.108 The Navy’s deficiencies reflected wider American concern at the prospect of the complete failure of the South Vietnamese state under pressure from North Vietnam and the Viet Cong.109 Within the much greater US efforts to build up the South Vietnamese military behind a shield of American military power and forces, support for the Navy progressively increased, but with the result that American influence became predominant. To shore up the flagging organization, the USN Advisory Group assigned advisors to each large South Vietnamese naval vessel, each Coastal and River Force group, and to the headquarters, repair facilities, and supply and training facilities. The Advisory Group, about half of whom were officers, increased from 235 to 540 between early 1965 and mid-­ 1968.110 The group achieved some improvements, but many of the deficiencies in training,111 administration and finance were never really fixed. Base facilities remained underfunded and underdeveloped.112 Local naval repair facilities continually lost expert staff to better paying jobs and the draft.113 The overall maintenance problem could be eased, but was never fully cured by the use of USN technicians in Saigon, the introduction of improved management processes by US advisors and the use of the Guam Ship Repair Facility for major refits. Some command and administrative changes were made. The South Vietnamese Marine Corps became a separate service in April 1965 and, on 1 January 1966, the Sea Force was renamed Fleet Command and reorganized along functional lines into two flotillas, with combatant craft in Flotilla 1 and amphibious and logistic units in Flotilla 2.114 However, with the exception of the ships operating outside territorial waters, all of the Navy’s combat forces remained under Army direction, with only administrative responsibility held by the South Vietnamese CNO.115

188   South Vietnam Despite American efforts, real change within the Navy began only after Captain Tran Van Chon became the CNO on 31 October 1966. Chon had most recently been Commander, Regional Force Boat Group, which fell outside the operational command of the Navy. Consequently, he had avoided taking sides in the political battles within the officer corps.116 A dynamic personality, Chon insisted that his officers avoid political involvement. He corrected many long-­standing deficiencies and helped much of the factionalism disappear.

Operation Market Time Operation Market Time began in 1965 as a major American initiated combined operation, intended to complete the cordon being drawn around South Vietnam.117 It comprised inshore operations amongst the thousands of craft plying the coastal waters and offshore operations to intercept trawlers and other larger vessels. It took place from the 17th parallel to the Cambodian border, out to 40 nm. Major USN units patrolled an outer surface barrier and both South Vietnamese Navy and USN patrol boats and South Vietnamese Coastal Force junks maintained a shallow water barrier.118 Initially very few interceptions were made and the operation’s effectiveness was difficult to assess. In September 1965 the coastal and riverine elements were strengthened and their activity levels raised. The USN Task Force 116, ‘Game Warden’, in which Vietnamese Navy officers served in liaison positions, was subsequently established.119 From January 1966 to mid-­1967 Market Time patrols destroyed or captured many enemy craft or forced them to abort missions. Much of the success resulted from most of the available American and South Vietnamese patrol craft being deployed and functioning relatively efficiently.120 In May 1967, South Vietnamese Navy Fleet Command units began taking over some of the outer sectors from the USN. By the end of 1967 it also had vessels stationed in each of the coastal zones. Meanwhile, the USN was operating in great force, both at sea and in the rivers, largely overshadowing South Vietnamese efforts. From mid-­1967 to the end of the year no enemy trawlers were detected, but activity intensified again in February 1968 because of the Tet Offensive. Five North Vietnamese ships were sent south. Two aborted the mission and the remaining three were captured or sunk. This proved to be the last such attempt at infiltration until August 1969.

The Coastal Force The Coastal Force was becoming increasingly effective, but faced stiff opposition. Most operations involved amphibious raids, inlet and river

South Vietnam   189 patrols, troop lift and blocking support for allied ground sweeps. The Coastal Force logistics flotilla also resupplied South Vietnamese Navy bases.121 These operations inevitably resulted in losses. In late 1966, Viet Cong mines destroyed one LSSL and damaged an LSIL and LCU. Mine attacks reduced the minesweeping launch (MLMS) fleet which worked to keep open the shipping channel to Saigon. In August 1966 and January 1967, MLMSs were sunk by mines in the Rung Sat special zone.122 Coastal Force bases were also subject to Viet Cong attack and while two were overrun, many withstood repeated assaults.123

Tet and afterwards Events in 1968 changed the course of the Vietnam War. The Tet offensive led the US government to believe that the military action was going badly. One outcome was the realization that the interdiction of people and goods coming from the North had failed – Market Time efforts were not enough. The events also extended domestic American opposition to the War.124 A gradual withdrawal of US forces from Vietnam began, together with talks in Paris to find a negotiated settlement. The withdrawal was accompanied by a plan to enlarge and further improve the South Vietnamese Armed Forces – ‘Vietnamization’ of the War.125 The naval element of the programme was termed the ‘accelerated turnover to the Vietnamese’ (ACTOV). It began in October 1968 and was intended to complete the transfer of virtually all USN operational responsibilities and associated equipment by 30 June 1970.126 All support functions and bases were to be turned over by the end of the 1972 financial year. The programme focused on the river and coastal combatant fleets but also encompassed training for the operation, maintenance and repair of American equipment and for the supply system, which had defied all efforts to make it function.127 The Coastal Force was, for example, beset by serviceability problems. By mid-­1968, vessel deterioration and the disposal of inefficient sailing junks had halved vessel numbers. Of the remainder, almost one third were unavailable.128 The USN Advisory Group recognized the need to concentrate on developing leadership skills and building morale.129 The South Vietnamese Navy would need an additional 10,000 trained personnel – with accompanying improvements in both the scale and quality of training.130 This would be difficult, as the shore training system still lacked facilities and instructors, and afloat training depended almost entirely on the whims of individual commanding officers. There was no system capable of ensuring that mandated standards were met.131 The very poor state of family support and security measures in place and their consequent drain on morale also affected the programme. Meanwhile, there was still a war to be fought.

190   South Vietnam

The American offensives Operation SEALORDS (South-­East Asia Lake, Ocean, River and Delta Strategy) designed to put pressure on the Viet Cong’s supplies, began in October 1968. It concentrated on cutting supply lines from Cambodia and disrupting operations in enemy base areas deep in the Mekong Delta. Intelligence had repeatedly confirmed that enemy war material entered Cambodia by sea, primarily through the port of Sihanoukville.132 SEALORDS aimed to intercept that material in Vietnam’s internal waterways and the South Vietnamese Navy provided much of the waterborne force.133 To support SEALORDS, other operations were scaled back and their resources diverted towards it. The first phase involved patrol barriers along the waterways paralleling the Cambodian border.134 This phase ended in January 1969, with the establishment of a patrolled waterway barrier almost the whole way from Tay Ninh, northwest of Saigon, to the Gulf of Siam. The operation reduced the size of shipments sent south, prevented the enemy from sustaining significant offensive action and saw accumulation of material in the north.135 The next phase extended into mid-­1969. Working with Vietnamese and US ground forces, naval units of both nations conducted harassing raids and attempted to assert a more secure permanent South Vietnamese government presence in some areas.136 Ultimately, however, inadequate ground support prevented the operation from having permanent results. The US and South Vietnamese push into Cambodia in early 1970 involved the SEALORDS forces. On the morning of 9 May a Vietnamese– American naval task force steamed up the Mekong in an attempt to take control of the waterway. By the end of the day, Vietnamese naval units had reached Phnom Penh. Concurrently, ground forces, which had been in action for ten days, were attacking Neak Luong, a strategic ferry crossing on the river to the south of the Cambodian capital. After the US forces left Cambodia at the end of June, Vietnamese forces remained, to guard the Mekong and to evacuate some 82,000 ethnic Vietnamese endangered by the conflict.137 Following this satisfying performance by the South Vietnamese Navy, several other operations took place. They included Blue Shark, a seven month effort against Viet Cong command, communications and logistics networks throughout the Mekong River system to the Cambodian border.138

‘Vietnamization’ continues Gradually, South Vietnamese personnel took over from USN sailors and officers and entire units came under Vietnamese command, with USN personnel being replaced one at a time by mainly ‘on the job’ trained Vietnamese.139 The first turnover of USN boats and equipment occurred on

South Vietnam   191 1 February 1969, when South Vietnamese Navy River Assault and Interdiction Divisions 70 and 71 were formed.140 Control of the various SEALORDS operations also transferred to Vietnamese officers. In March 1970 the Cambodian border barrier patrol was turned over to the South Vietnamese Navy, partly in recognition of its good performance. By the end of 1970 the final handover of river craft had taken place, enabling the South Vietnamese Navy to control operations in the Mekong Delta.141 By this time the Navy had grown to a force of 32,000 people. It had to reorganize in line with its new responsibilities and expansion. Assault craft were grouped in riverine assault interdiction divisions (RAID), while riverine patrol boats were formed into river interdiction divisions (RID) and river patrol groups (RPG). The existing riverine assault groups and coastal groups were also augmented. The latter had been consolidated into 20 units because of a shortage of patrol junks.142 Most ambitious of all, the Market Time effort was ‘Vietnamized’. This included the transfer of seven former large coast guard cutters (frigates which were originally seaplane tenders) and two destroyer escorts – larger combatants than anything South Vietnam had ever operated143 and which represented a formidable challenge for the Navy. During 1970 and 1971, South Vietnam was given control of the inshore barrier, then the high seas patrol and finally a coastal radar network which was intended to replace American air surveillance.144 ‘Vietnamization’ activities continued until the final US withdrawal in March 1973. By then the South Vietnamese Navy had grown to 42,000 personnel with 1,500 ships and other craft.145 Much work was done to establish a comprehensive support system. There was some evidence of increasing capacity to stand alone,146 but the long-­existent problems of poor leadership, low morale and a widespread lack of dedication still ­troubled the Service.147 Unsurprisingly therefore, US forces provided very substantial help throughout a major North Vietnamese offensive that began late in March 1972. This included naval shore bombardment which contributed to the successful defence of Hue, as well as support to South Vietnamese amphibious operations.148

The end of the war Following extensive bombing of North Vietnam, negotiations resumed in Paris, leading to a ceasefire agreement on 27 January 1973. Although this gave the US the pretext for final withdrawal, South Vietnam gained little breathing space. For the beleaguered anti-­Communists matters were not helped by the progressive reduction in American aid in the months that followed. This impacted significantly on South Vietnamese military cap­ ability. Although the Navy was in principle a powerful force when the US forces left, by 1975 it had been forced to cut operations by 50 per cent and 600 river and harbour craft and 22 ships were laid up to conserve ammunition and fuel.149

192   South Vietnam In January 1974, the South Vietnamese Navy clashed with Chinese forces in the Paracel Islands. China was probably taking advantage of the progressive weakening of South Vietnam’s military capabilities and the PLA-­N was ruthless in its response to South Vietnamese efforts to eject the troops that it had deposited on the islands. Although the South Vietnamese had three 5 inch gun frigates and a patrol vessel, their encounter on 19 January with inferior Chinese surface forces went very badly and indicated that training and maintenance standards remained low. The patrol vessel Nhut Tao was sunk and the frigate Ly Thoung Kiet was badly damaged by ‘friendly fire’ from Tran Binh Trong. With the US unwilling to support the South Vietnamese, the latter recognized that the situation was untenable, particularly with Chinese reinforcements on the way, and the remaining ships withdrew. Twenty-­three survivors were rescued by a passing Dutch merchant ship. The South Vietnamese garrison was turned out of the islands150 and the embattled Saigon government was forced to accept a fait accompli, doing what it could to use China’s aggression to encourage patriotism amongst the population of the South.151 Hanoi protested the action after reunification, but received no satisfaction from China, then or later. By March 1975 the end was near for South Vietnam. Following significant defeats of ground forces, many ports were abandoned to the enemy advance. Although the Navy rescued thousands of troops, their efforts were compromised by weather and growing confusion. Civil order broke down rapidly under the stress of the North Vietnamese military advance152 and the final days before the collapse were chaotic. Much USN and South Vietnamese Navy effort was devoted to evacuation of US personnel and of Vietnamese who might suffer under the North Vietnamese, because of association with the Americans. Other elements of the population fled in junks and any other available vessels.153 In one such operation, 26 South Vietnamese Navy vessels with 30,000 sailors, their families and other civilians on board concentrated off Son Island southwest of Vung Tau. On 2 May 1975, two days after the fall of the Saigon government, this group, in company with the USN Task Force 76, sailed for refugee reception centres in the Philippines and in Guam. It was the last operation of the South Vietnamese Navy.

11 The People’s Army of Vietnam Navy

Introduction The People’s Army of Vietnam Navy (PAVN) is a relatively small force, still largely reliant on Russia for its equipment and, until very recently, hamstrung by competing national economic priorities. While the Vietnamese Government has repeatedly committed publicly to modernization of the Navy, plans have not always borne fruit, despite the growing economic importance of its maritime zones and the potential for conflict over maritime boundaries in the South China Sea. To meet Vietnam’s maritime security needs, the Navy must expand and improve its operational capacity in all aspects of maritime warfare. Recent developments, such as a project for six Russian built submarines and plans for Dutch offshore patrol vessels, suggest that the PAVN may be about to break the shackles that have bound it since its formation after the Second World War.

The North Vietnamese Navy The Navy of the new Vietnam would be based not on that of the old South, but on the Socialist Republic of Vietnam Navy, officially created as the People’s Army of Vietnam, Riverine and Maritime Force on 7 May 1955 and becoming a separate entity called the Coastal Defence Force on 12 October 1959.1 On the same date, with Chinese help, the People’s Armed Forces Navy Headquarters was formally established. During the war against France the Navy operated a so-­called mosquito fleet of ‘infiltration trawlers’ provided by China for supply duties. The Viet Minh showed no desire for maritime operations, preferring to ambush dinassauts with mortar fire from ashore.2 Consequently, the North Vietnamese Navy remained a tiny force and had very little influence on the war. In the late 1950s the naval force was regularized and given additional tasks, including coast guard work and patrol of fishing grounds. The first true combat vessels were four Swatow class gunboats supplied by China in 1958. Some East German MTBs were also transferred about this time.3 In the 1960s another 24

194   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam Swatow class and four Shanghai class gunboats were acquired. They were complemented by four Komar class missile-­armed FAC and additional torpedo boats (PT-­4 and PT-­6 classes) from the Soviet Union. The North Vietnamese Navy claimed significant involvement in the war against the US and the South. It ‘fought thousands of battles with the US-­ puppet navy, air force and infantry, sank 353 warships, boats and military cargo ships’.4 These claims are partly fanciful, but the North Vietnamese Navy was active. Torpedo boat operations in the Gulf of Tonkin in August 1964 displayed an aggressive approach and were the Navy’s most significant activity during the conflict. Groups of what were identified as P-­4 torpedo boats attacked USS Maddox on the afternoon of 2 August and then allegedly Maddox and USS Turner Joy two nights later. On 2 August, the P-­4s pressed their attacks despite heavy fire from USN ships and aircraft and suffered substantial losses although they inflicted no damage with either torpedoes or gunfire.5 There is, however, serious doubt as to whether the second (night) attack actually took place.6 This view is supported by recent revelations that the reports of the second clash may have been the result of initially mistaken translations of communications intercepts, subsequently altered to disguise the initial mistakes.7 Most importantly, the incidents led to the US Congress passing the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution on 7 August 1964. This authorized the President to dispatch armed forces to defend the non-­ Communist nations of South-­East Asia.8 The North Vietnamese Navy conducted a further torpedo boat attack against American naval forces on 1 July 1966. A USN F-­4B pilot on combat air patrol sighted three North Vietnamese torpedo boats approaching the destroyers USS Coontz and Rogers. Other F-­4 aircraft from the US Ships Constellation and Hancock attacked and sank the three craft, after they had launched ineffective torpedo attacks against the destroyers.9 In August 1967 in an extension of the interdiction operations, USN aircraft attacked the North Vietnamese naval base at Van Hoa, causing extensive damage. The North Vietnamese continued to use the sea for resupply of Viet Cong forces in the South, with units such as the North Vietnamese Naval Transportation Group 125, which employed steel-­hulled 100 t trawlers and sea-­going junks.10 Inadequate patrolling and intermittent seizures of these vessels made it difficult to determine how regularly they were used. There were, however, several episodes in May, June and December of 1966 in which North Vietnamese trawlers were sunk or captured and cargoes of munitions intercepted.11 While the provision of logistics support to North Vietnamese forces in the South continued, there is little evidence of other North Vietnamese naval – or maritime – activity, apart from the 1968 Tet offensive, at least until 1973. From 28 January that year, however, USN forces cleared mines in the approaches to Haiphong and a number of other lesser ports and associated inland waterways. As part of this operation

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   195 USN instructors trained 50 North Vietnamese personnel to conduct inshore mine clearance.12

Re-­unification and some difficult times: 1975–1991 With the end of the war with the US, the PAVN now faced very different tasks. The economic and political circumstances of Vietnam would profoundly influence its development from 1975. Tough socialist policies were enacted.13 Life became very difficult for many in the south; some hundreds of officials were executed and an exodus of refugees began.14 The Vietnamese military was slow to evolve from the long internal struggle for independence and re-­unification and to adopt conventional military and diplomatic thinking. As these processes began, Soviet influence became widespread. Air and naval capability development was underwritten by the Soviets, as was much of the Vietnamese military budget.15 Even before the end of the war against the US, conflict broke out with Cambodia, which tried to acquire control of potentially rich oil deposits in the Gulf of Thailand. In May 1975, Cambodian forces attacked the island of Phu Quoc, the first of many raids aimed at occupation and driving away Vietnamese fishermen.16 After a respite, there were border incursions by Cambodia and heavy fighting was reported by mid-­1977. The maritime dimension of the conflict emerged in Cambodian radio broadcasts listing islands claimed by the country.17 Vietnam invaded Cambodia and occupied Phnom Penh. China supported Cambodia in the conflict and by mid-­1978 had stopped its military and economic aid programme to Vietnam.18 Relations with China had already soured, however, over the Spratly and Paracel islands and, by August 1978, China had reportedly positioned 15 army divisions on its border with Vietnam.19 There was heavy fighting when China launched a costly attack in February 1979.

Soviet assistance and Cam Ranh Bay The border war with China was brief, but the conflict with Cambodia continued for some years, at great cost to Vietnam. By the early 1980s the economy was in a very poor state. Vietnam gained some relief through aid from the Soviet Union, much of which arrived by sea after the rail link was cut.20 The country came to rely heavily on the Soviets, and estimates of total assistance ran at up to US$2.1 billion per year.21 One of the consequences of US involvement in the war that ended in 1975 was that Vietnam inherited some excellent military facilities. Soviet use of Cam Ranh Bay would be repayment for their support,22 as was agreement to allow the Soviets to explore for and exploit oil deposits off the south coast of Vietnam.23 Soviet access followed the signing of a Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation in Moscow on 3 November 1978.24 By

196   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam March 1980, the US believed that the Soviets had full access to the naval base at Cam Ranh Bay and to the airfield at Da Nang and had evidence of long-­term submarine basing at Cam Ranh Bay.25 On 27 March three Soviet warships were anchored in the bay and two weeks later, two Tu-­95 (Bear) bombers were thought to have flown to Vietnam.26 Even so, the Soviets continued to deny that they had permanent basing. Furthermore, Vietnamese authorities were apparently reluctant to allow their facilities to become de facto or de jure Soviet bases.27 But, by the beginning of 1985, the Soviet Navy was making substantial use of Cam Ranh Bay, with up to 20 surface warships and three or four submarines to be found there, along with deployed Tu-­95 and Tu-­16 (Badger) bombers.28 As the Soviet presence in Vietnam grew, regional neighbours became fearful of the potential combination of Vietnamese land power and Soviet naval capabilities. China labelled Vietnam as ‘the Cuba of the Orient’.29 Extensive construction work was carried out at the airfield and at the submarine base at Cam Ranh Bay. By the end of 1987, the facilities had apparently ‘quadrupled’ since the departure of the US forces.30 Late in the 1980s, however, the global strategic environment began to change, with Soviet attempts to relieve domestic economic pressures by reducing competition with the West. In early 1990 there were reports of a pullout from Vietnam.31 At the July 1991 ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF ) Foreign Ministers’ meeting, the Soviet representatives indicated that they would be reducing the Cam Ranh Bay presence.32 The ultimate disintegration of the Soviet Union between 1989 and 1991 had major impacts on the Vietnamese economy and military. Vietnam was already conscious of the dire state of its finances and had introduced a policy of ‘Doi Moi’ at the end of 1986. This presaged a more outward looking approach to economic development and some political reform. It also led to major force reductions,33 although, even with 70 per cent of the defence budget allocated to personnel costs, the Vietnamese government could not afford to pension off excess military personnel.34 Soviet aid had in fact provided most of Vietnam’s new military hardware and spares.35 After 1990, the Soviet Union demanded payment from Vietnam in hard currency, causing problems for the maintenance of naval units in particular.36 Significantly, in September 1990, China offered to replace all of the Soviet Union’s aid if Vietnam would develop closer ties, a deal finally agreed in November 1991.37 Indicative of the extent of the changes occurring was Vietnam’s proposal in November 1990, that the US be able to use Cam Ranh Bay if it lifted its trade embargo.38

The development of the People’s Army of Vietnam Navy The Navy of a united Vietnam inherited a very mixed legacy. In addition to military facilities the collapse of the Southern regime had also left behind American-­sourced military equipment worth about US$5 billion,

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   197 although a good deal was already obsolete and lacked spares support.39 The naval component included some 950 vessels, mostly small craft but also some ocean-­going units. Apart from this questionable windfall, the PAVN comprised a mix of ex-­Soviet corvettes and patrol vessels, ex-­ Chinese patrol craft and a number of motor launches and utility craft. The PAVN’s limited offensive capability resided in the ex-­Soviet Komar class missile craft and the P-­6 and P-­4 class torpedo boats. Personnel numbers were limited to about 3,000. This situation was consistent with the way in which the Navy had operated before reunification, suggesting that naval affairs were not a high military priority for the nation. Nevertheless, the PAVN must have been involved in taking possession of the island of Puolo Wai, nearly 100 miles south-­south-west of Phu Quoc in June 1975,40 thereby demonstrating some offshore capability. Cambodian Navy opposition was minimal, as much of its strength had been lost to US attacks during the operation to release the captured ship Mayaguez. PAVN development was not helped by the complex command and control structures and the interconnection of the Communist Party organization with other government bodies. The Chief of the Navy reported to the Military Staff Directorate in Hanoi and had, at the same rank level, a political commissar to manage Party affairs.41 Both were relatively low within the structure, although the Chief was a member of the influential Party Committee within the Military High Command,42 and had to contend with several layers of control in what has been described as a vastly over-­organized system.43 Very political, even in its military elements, and inwardly focused,44 this was certainly not an organization that would be at ease with maritime issues. In 1978 the USSR transferred two Petya III class frigates.45 This was a start, and further evidence of growing Soviet assistance to Vietnam was seen in the transfer of eight Osa class (SS-­N-2) missile armed FAC-­M.46 Together with the Petya IIIs, the Osas were thought to present a naval threat to South-­East Asia and some analysts began to emphasize and even exaggerate Vietnam’s naval capabilities.47 While regional concerns were understandable, the Vietnamese Navy was probably both unable and lacking the intent to conduct any kind of offensive operations then. It would remain a service with very restricted capability for many years. Apart from the Petya IIIs, its only ocean-­going warships were two old frigates and two equally elderly corvettes, all relics from South Vietnam.48 At least one regional analyst suspected that the transfer of the Soviet Petyas was partly designed to help Vietnam counter Chinese submarines49 but, even with its new ships, the Vietnamese Navy would still have been no match for the PLA-­N. The most likely reason for the transfer is that the Petyas were the most suitable available Soviet sea-­going ships for a small and unsophisticated navy like Vietnam’s.

198   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam Transfers continued through the early 1980s, including Shershen class torpedo boats and Polnocny class amphibious ships. Three Petya IIs were also added, personnel numbers grew to 4,000 and a squadron of Soviet sourced SAR helicopters (MiL-­4 Hound) was acquired. On the other hand, many of the older coastal patrol and riverine craft and amphibious vessels became non-­operational – probably permanently.50 The PAVN had other troubles, and occasionally its units displayed poor judgement. On the night of 22 June 1982 the American destroyer Lynde McCormick, in company with her sisters Turner Joy and Benjamin Stoddert, was fired on while operating about 70 nm from the southern tip of Vietnam. The attacking gunboats were believed to be Vietnamese,51 and the American ships displayed considerable restraint. In mid-­1981 Thailand denied a Vietnamese claim that one of its gunboats violated Cambodian territorial waters and counter-­claimed that three armed Cambodian fishing craft had violated Thai waters.52 This kind of low-­level antagonism was in part a result of Vietnam’s strong desire to secure its coastline and offshore possessions. Small patrol craft and gunboats were used off Cambodia, both to keep Thai fishing craft away and to support Vietnamese territorial claims.53 Such was the region’s strategic climate that, by the mid-­1980s, South-­ East Asia was becoming a focus for maritime competition. The South China Sea predominated because of the promise of resource finds, the important international sea lines of communication and overlapping sovereignty claims.54 The Vietnamese Navy needed to operate in and around the Spratly Islands, with its potential for confrontation with the navies of other states.55 Although there were statements acknowledging a higher priority for the Navy, the national budget allowed only limited additional funding, so progress was slow and highly dependent on the Soviets. By 1983, the Vietnamese had the largest fleet in South-­East Asia, but most craft were riverine56 and there were relatively few real combatant vessels. The PAVN struggled to keep operational even a small proportion of the large number of vessels in its inventory and developed some ingenious, albeit makeshift solutions, including the fit of SS-­N-2 missiles to HQ 01, an old ex-­US Barnegat class frigate.57 The number of Petyas had grown to five and the number of Shershen class to 16 by 1987.58 The Osa II missile craft force was held at eight through the 1980s59 but the old Komar class and the elderly MTBs were replaced from 1984 onwards by Turya class hydrofoil torpedo craft. At this time the Navy was capable of gathering substantial numbers of FAC and could mount raids at short notice, but little more. China’s Navy remained dominant in the South China Sea.60 Estimates of Vietnamese strength were not to be taken at face value and the government tended to focus on other than maritime issues. In 1987, for example, Vietnam adopted a new and inwardly focused national security doctrine through Politburo Resolution No. 2, ‘On Strengthening National Defence in the New Revolutionary Stage’.61

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   199 In 1987, the Navy’s operational surface forces centred on a small frigate force, multiple FAC, a small amphibious lift force, mainly to supply offshore garrisons and coastal patrol craft for anti-­smuggling and anti-­ infiltration work.62 Aviation was playing a larger part in operations. The small squadron of SAR helicopters was supplemented by between 15 and 20 Hormone-­A helicopters for ASW, coastal patrol and utility tasks,63 together with a few Beriev-­12 amphibian maritime patrol aircraft.64 The Soviets may have been providing assistance with ASW,65 but Vietnamese capabilities were probably still very limited. The mine countermeasure force did receive a significant boost in the last years of the Soviet relationship, with four of the relatively sophisticated Sonya class hunter/sweepers transferred between 1987 and 1990.66 Naval contacts also began to develop with other nations, including visits from the Indian Navy in 1983 and 1988, and expressions of Vietnamese interest in Indonesia’s shipbuilding industry – as a means of gaining technical assistance.67 There were other signs of changing focus. Although Vietnam’s increasing economic problems caused major reductions in Army personnel numbers between mid-­1987 and late 1990, naval strength was largely unaffected.68 By 1990, on the 35th anniversary of the founding of the (North) Vietnamese Navy, its then Commander, Admiral Giap Van Cuong, asserted that the build-­up of the Navy had to be consistent with the overall needs of the state.69 His statement further acknowledged that the PAVN’s capabilities needed improvement to manage the confrontations associated with its maritime jurisdiction claims. The 1991 Gulf War, dominated by high-­technology weapons, highlighted to Vietnamese military authorities the obsolescence of their own equipment. Priority for military development (or catch up) was also influenced by the withdrawal from Cambodia, the consequent diminished importance of land forces and the emergence of maritime issues. The parlous economic state of the country, however, limited what could be done quickly. The military overall gained some relief from its involvement in business activities which, in the late 1980s, earned some US$600 million per year, some of which remained with the Services. The Navy was the most profitable in this respect.70 Unfortunately, this encouraged corruption amongst senior personnel, a tendency from which the Navy was not immune.71

South China Sea activities The key maritime security issue for Vietnam was the South China Sea and the continuing disputes over sovereignty claims.72 That with China was the most serious and the most prone to confrontation and violence. Despite the constraints it faced, Vietnam was rarely passive. In April 1984, to underline its claims, the PAVN, supported by the Soviet Navy, conducted amphibious manoeuvres around Vietnamese occupied Spratly Islands.73 In

200   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam May 1987 China accused Vietnam of invading some of its islands and reserved the right to recover Bojaio Island in the Spratlys.74 Vietnam was said to occupy six of the Spratly Islands, some of which were fortified.75 Possibly coincidentally, in 1987 the Vietnamese Navy’s coastal defence role was extended to include support for garrisons in the Spratlys, for oil platforms in the Gulf of Tonkin and more generally in the South China Sea. This extended role included a limited force projection task, but not the resources needed for it. In late February 1988, Vietnam accused China of landing troops on two disputed islands in the Spratlys. A far more serious action took place soon after when the PLA-­N seriously damaged three Vietnamese transport ships, sinking two, which they claimed were carrying supplies to garrisons in the Spratlys. Vietnam also accused China of preventing the rescue of 76 crewmen and up to 70 sailors may have died.76,77 Each nation, predictably, blamed the other for the confrontation. Subsequently, China rejected Vietnam’s call for talks as ‘hypocrisy’ and advised Vietnam to leave the Spratlys or accept the consequences.78 As the 1990s began there was no sign of tensions diminishing.79 Difficulties also emerged with Indonesia, over claims to the Natunas Islands in the southern part of the South China Sea. In 1979 Vietnam protested Indonesia granting exploration rights to American companies in the area.80 Despite talks between the two countries in July 1981, Indonesia built a jet aircraft capable airfield in the Natunas.81 Vietnam also had disputes with Malaysia, two relating to continental shelf claims and one to the Spratlys.82 In September 1983 Vietnam protested against the presence of Malaysian troops in Layang-­Layang (an island some 180 miles from Kota Kinabalu).83 Vietnam had several more territorial disputes with the Philippines in the South China Sea, which similarly went unresolved.84 Overlapping claims in the Gulf of Thailand were also a concern during the 1980s. The long-­standing Brévie Line had not proven to be a satisfactory maritime boundary for Vietnam and Cambodia. Fortunately, both countries decided during the 1980s to treat the disputed area as common (historic) waters while negotiating delimitation.85

Coming in from the Cold War Vietnam faced the 1990s with some major hurdles. Its level of technological development was low, management was ineffective, it lacked capital investment, the bureaucracy was cumbersome, and one-­third of state enterprises were facing bankruptcy.86 The country still had difficulty in paying its military personnel.87 Nevertheless, defence budget increases were provided in both 1992 and 1993, recognizing Vietnam’s need to defend its South China Sea interests.88 The first public release of Vietnam’s defence spending figures came in December 1993, which showed that the defence budget for that year had been dong 3.2 trillion, some 8.4

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   201 per cent of the overall national budget.89 Notwithstanding the new transparency, external assessors estimated actual military spending at a level several times greater than this.90 These developments were accompanied by an acknowledgement that national modernization was needed to make up for the loss of Soviet patronage. Formal military cooperation with the Soviets ended in May 1992 – at least on paper. The latter also began to move out of Cam Ranh Bay but soon indicated a desire to remain until 2004, when the existing agreement would expire.91 Two issues contributed to a likelihood of ongoing Russian interest: the base rental payment being offset against Vietnamese debt to the former Soviet Union and continuing Russian strategic ambitions.92 By September 1994, Russia and Vietnam had agreed at least temporarily on revised terms for the ongoing Russian use of Cam Ranh Bay.93 Russian interest was confirmed by a visit in February 1996 by the Commander of the Russian Pacific Fleet, who stated that Russia should both retain and develop the Cam Ranh Bay base.94 In October 1998, Vietnam signed an umbrella agreement for the future supply of arms. Russia still had much to offer and Vietnam had great needs – if not the money to satisfy them in the short term. In September 2000 President Putin moved to improve relations with Vietnam by cancelling 85 per cent of its ten billion rouble debt, with the remainder to be repaid through barter trade over 23 years.95 Putin visited Vietnam in March 2001 and agreed to a strengthening of military cooperation while negotiations over Cam Ranh Bay continued. In June that year, the Vietnamese Foreign Ministry declared that, after 2004, Cam Ranh Bay would become a commercial facility.96 By this time, the only significant remaining activity was a signals intelligence station.97 Ultimately, Russia departed completely by May 2002, but with the expectation of making future port visits.98 The Vietnamese government decided not to offer any new lease to a foreign power and that the base would be retained for the Vietnamese military and for commercial activities. Vietnam had been relatively quick to accept China’s offer of aid to replace that provided by the USSR and relations were firmed by a visit to Vietnam by Chinese General Chi Haotian in May 1993. More bilateral talks followed, as Vietnam also reached out to others, attempting to balance the Chinese influence.99 Following talks with Thailand, the C-­in-C of the Thai Army visited Vietnam in January 1992. Relations were still strained and the General’s request to visit Cam Ranh Bay was refused. He also got little reaction to his request for a joint fishing venture in disputed waters.100 Nevertheless, the exchange of military attachés began in 1993.101 Vietnam also began to receive attention from other countries. France re-­engaged in 1992, with the posting of a military attaché and a visit by a frigate in November. August 1993 saw the first visit by the RMN.102

202   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam Vietnam’s most significant step in opening to the world was becoming the seventh member of ASEAN on 28 July 1995.103 This followed its accession to the ASEAN Treaty of Amity and Cooperation in July 1992 and founding membership of the ARF in July 1994. Another significant political event was the lifting in February 1994 of the US trade embargo. The work to improve regional relationships continued with the visit of two RTN ships to Ho Chi Minh City in June 1997 – the first by either navy to the other. This time the visit included discussions on joint patrols in disputed waters.104 Later in 1997 agreement was reached on delimitation of the maritime boundary in the Gulf of Thailand. There was renewed commitment to joint fisheries surveys and naval patrols in the Gulf,105 and agreement between the navies to begin joint patrols from November 1998.106 This included establishment of joint standard operating procedures. After some difficulties, the patrols did materialize and recommenced in November 2003 after a one year break.107 Vietnam also proposed fisheries cooperation with the Philippines in the Spratlys, including environmental protection and scientific research. In March 2000, Mr William Cohen became the first US Secretary of Defense to visit Vietnam since the end of the war in 1975. Further, in early May 2000, Vietnam agreed to engage in regular security dialogue with Japan108 and discussed the potential for cooperation on civilian SAR operations in the South China Sea.109 In 2003, Admiral Toru Ishikawa, Chairman of Japan’s Joint Staff Council, met with senior Vietnamese officials in another attempt to increase cooperation.110 In 2000 Vietnam signed a military agreement with India.111 This was to include cooperation in the eradication of piracy in South-­East Asian waters – possibly including Indian Navy patrols in the area.112 There was also consideration of India supplying military equipment to Vietnam – especially for the Air Force and Navy.113 During a visit to Vietnam the Indian Defence Minister, George Fernandes, noted the Vietnamese assessment that their major security threat would most likely come from the sea. Consequently, India proposed to award modernization of the Vietnamese Navy first ­priority in any cooperative programme. It cited Indian experience with Soviet and Russian equipment as evidence of its capacity to help and suggested a visit to Indian naval shipyards by Vietnamese personnel before the end of 2000.114 The two navies conducted their first ever manoeuvres together in the South China Sea in October 2000.115 They followed this with the signing of another agreement in March 2001, through which India agreed to help rebuild Vietnam’s military forces and cooperate on anti-­piracy work. Much of India’s interest in Vietnam was the result of its even greater concerns over China and there were suggestions of India’s desire to gain access to Cam Ranh Bay.116 Practical assistance came in the form of spare parts from India’s recently decommissioned Soviet-­built Osa class attack craft, which

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   203 Vietnam still operated. Although the package of material was a gift, the Indians were surprised by the scale and intensity of the Vietnamese demands – a situation that the Russians would have viewed with some irony. Vietnam opened a similarly focused dialogue with Ukraine, which was capable of supplying arms and had the distinct advantage of being aligned with none of the major powers. They signed an agreement on the supply of equipment which also focused on technical assistance, shipbuilding and modernizing Vietnam’s Navy.117 China was included in Vietnam’s new approach to the world. The first visit to Vietnam by the Chinese Navy was made by the guided missile frigate Yulin in November 2001. The Vice Commander of the Vietnamese Navy, Tran Quang Khue, suggested at the end of the visit that it had reflected the ‘smoothly developing’ relationship between the two countries.118 Further evidence of Vietnam’s decreasing suspicion of others came in its sending observers for the first time to the Cobra Gold 2002 exercise that took place in Thailand.119 It was followed by the presence of Vietnamese observers at the 2004 five nation Pacific Reach submarine rescue exercise in South Korea. This greater openness – and its limits – had been highlighted in the publication in 1998 of Vietnam’s first Defence White Paper. The document concentrated on policy matters and provided scant information on defence spending or current military strength.120 Offshore security including border demarcation was one of the issues emphasized as being important. The White Paper noted that the Vietnamese Navy ‘is organized into many combat groups . . . which has (sic) provided it with favourable conditions for quick deployment, movement and high concentration of troops to deal effectively with critical events’.121 These developments were accompanied by gradually improving economic conditions. Defence spending increased from US$1.1 billion in 1992 to just over US$2 billion in 1997 – around 8.5 per cent of GDP,122 although figures remained (and remain) notoriously difficult to confirm. Less than a decade later, Vietnam’s 2004 Defence White Paper claimed that the defence budget represented 2.5 per cent of GDP for 2004, or some US$1.15 billion.123 By contrast, the International Institute for Strategic Studies assessed 2004 and 2005 Vietnamese defence expenditure as US$3.17 billion and US$3.47 billion.124 Publication in 2004 of Vietnam’s second Defence White Paper allowed it to confirm its defence policies. The document reiterated the earlier position that Vietnam would join no alliances and confirmed that the country needed a strong defence force, but did not want an arms race in the region. Additionally, the White Paper restated Vietnam’s hard line on the South China Sea, while acknowledging that it wanted a peaceful resolution of the boundary and territorial issues.125

204   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam

Offshore security and China Greater openness did not lead to a lessening of local maritime security concerns. Contention over the South China Sea intensified with the promise of major oil and gas deposits beneath it. By the mid-­1990s Vietnam was exporting nearly US$1 billion of oil annually from its offshore fields – some 27 per cent of all exports.126 There was some evidence of a change in approach after a November 1991 meeting in Beijing, called to normalize relations, in which there was agreement to negotiate the unsettled borders. A similar meeting in Hanoi the following month discussed long-­disputed Indonesian and Vietnamese South China Sea claims. In 1992, however, China’s Central Military Commission claimed the Spratly Islands as an integral part of Chinese territory and thereby justified its expansive claim to virtually the entire South China Sea.127 Vietnam remained unambiguous in its claims to both the Paracels and the Spratlys as ‘an integral part of the nation’.128 China further clarified its position by enacting legislation in late February 1992, which affirmed sovereignty over the two island groups. It also sanctioned the use of force to expel intruders,129 and awarded an oil drilling contract to the US Crestone Corporation in May 1992.130 Vietnam received help from two Russian ships in surveying the Spratly Islands and other contested parts of the South China Sea over the summers of 1993 and 1994131 and apparently built its first lighthouse in the Spratlys, on South West Cay.132 Amidst calls for greater consultation there was continuing contention. In mid-­1994 China complained officially against the Blue Dragon field being developed by Vietnam.133 In July the PLA-­N reportedly blockaded a Vietnamese drilling ship. Such antagonism was doubtless exacerbated by Hanoi’s announcement, in September 1995, of a large natural gas field in waters disputed with China – the first such large find.134 In December 1996, an armed Chinese ship allegedly captured two Vietnamese patrol boats off the northern islands of Co To.135 A focus on China’s South China Sea claims became evident in Vietnamese Navy force distribution. Brigades formerly stationed in the north were relocated to Da Nang, Cam Ranh Bay and Vung Tau to concentrate on operations in the Spratlys, especially those related to the important Bach Ho and Dai Hung oilfields. This relocation included the operational command for the Spratlys, which moved from Haiphong to Da Nang.136 More positively, China and Vietnam did discuss South China Sea security issues, notably in August 1996, during Hanoi talks on Gulf of Tonkin matters. Subsequent discussions were said to have produced ‘concrete and conclusive results’,137 but they were not conclusive. Vietnam called a meeting with China in Hanoi in April 1997 to discuss China’s placement of an oil exploration rig in the Gulf of Tonkin. Following an intervention by ASEAN, which took Vietnam’s part, the rig was removed, representing a rare concession by China.138 By 1998 Vietnam occupied most of the

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   205 habitable islands in the southern part of the South China Sea, while China occupied the Paracels and one reef in the southern part of the South China Sea.139 A tenth set of talks with China on the Gulf of Tonkin boundaries ended without any breakthrough in March 1998. A further round of talks planned for late in the year maintained optimism.140 But with the thirteenth set of Sino-­Vietnamese talks on South China Sea maritime disputes in May 2000 failing to make progress, the problems were beginning to appear intractable. Both sides were concerned at the slow pace, especially because an informal deadline of the end of 2000 had been set for agreement on the least contentious section of the Gulf of Tonkin boundary.141 Relations continued to simmer. In February 2001 Vietnam announced plans to establish a local government in the South China Sea islands, similar to other Vietnamese regional arrangements.142 In October 2003, the Vietnamese government announced that it was considering running tourist visits to the Spratlys and in August of that year China imposed a ban on fishing in the South China Sea. In September, Vietnam detained a Chinese fishing boat and its crew for five days.143 A ray of light came in the March 2005 agreement of China, the Philippines and Vietnam ‘to undertake a joint research of petroleum resource potential in an area of the South China Sea’.144 Light was also evident in the report of a proposal for a formal mechanism to enable cooperation between the navies of Vietnam and Malaysia – a ‘naval hotline’. The proposal, through an MOU, was announced by Malaysia’s Defence Minister, Najib Razak on 9 March 2006.145 The prospects of greater cooperation, particularly with China, soon diminished, however, and confrontations continued, some possibly indicating over-­zealous local commanders, but others reflected decision making at the highest levels. May 2011 brought a new crisis, with Chinese ships cutting the cables of Vietnam sponsored seismic survey ships in the Spratlys. Anti-­Chinese demonstrations in Hanoi and naval exercises by the PAVN indicated increasing Vietnamese determination to stand up to China, which replied with much larger exercises and weapons firings in the disputed areas. While China formally denied its intent to use force to resolve matters in the South China Sea, it clearly remained determined to maintain its claims and to resist any efforts to ‘internationalize’ negotiations.146

Further developments in the PAVN At the beginning of the so-­called Post-­Cold War era, Vietnam’s Navy remained a coastal defence force, comprising seven frigates and 64 attack and patrol craft.147 The Navy still had a collection of ex-­USN and Soviet amphibious ships and a small mine warfare squadron. Rounding out the operational force was a substantial number of river patrol craft.

206   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam The maritime air wing focused largely on ASW. It was now made up of four Beriev-­12 (Mail) amphibian long-­range patrol aircraft and a mix of 15 Kamov Ka 27/Ka 29 (Helix A) and Kamov Ka-­25 (Hormone) helicopters. It also included six Mil Mi-­4 (Hound) helicopters, used mainly in the support and assault roles.148 Helicopter numbers were to dwindle gradually in the following years – probably because of supportability problems. The Navy needed modernization. It was suffering increasing logistic support difficulties with its ageing Soviet origin craft as the break up of the USSR had disrupted supply chains and necessitated a search for new sources. Accordingly, in 1993 an approach was made to Australian Defence Industries to construct missile armed cutter-­sized ships at the Ba Son shipyard. The approach was quietly rejected, while desires for Malaysian patrol craft also remained unmet, this time because of cost.149 Late in 1994 an approach was also made to buy three fast patrol craft from Hyundai in the Republic of Korea. Eventually, hopeful that Russia’s military industry reforms were beginning to restore the capabilities of the previous era – and with very favour­ able pricing – the Navy ordered two Tarantul class missile corvettes from Russia, for delivery in 1996. They were to replace the 50-year-­old ex-­US Admirable class vessels.150 They were joined in 1999 by two more of the class.151 In 1996, citing concerns over China and the South China Sea, the Defence Minister, General Doan Khue said that Vietnam needed a modern navy to defend its territorial waters, to deploy military forces and to develop the marine economy.152 His call to arms may have resulted from the Vietnamese Military strengthening its position within the Communist Party and thereby being able to attract a bigger defence budget.153 However, it did recognize both strategic and force structure realities. At the time, all the Navy’s surface combatants were badly maintained and lacking spare parts.154 Although its amphibious forces were said to be capable of landing an assault force of about 2,800 troops, the ships were old and in poor condition.155 One contemporary report suggested that the Navy had to cannibalize up to 50 per cent of its vessels to maintain some kind of operational capability.156 Half of the Shershen class FAC had been used for spares157 and a similar fate may have befallen the SO-­1 patrol craft, the in-­service numbers of which halved in 1996–1997. Indicating both the Defence Minister’s intent and the limits of the budget, the Navy announced in 1996 that it would build locally two corvettes of the Russian BPS 500 design, with the first to be completed in 1997.158 Russia supplied the kits and the two were assembled in the Ba Son Shipyard in Ho Chi Minh City – a noteworthy development, as this meant not only the revival of military technological work in the South but the start of an indigenous warship building capability. The first entered service during late 2001 and the second some time later.159 Other limited force

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   207 improvement measures included the procurement of additional Zhuk class patrol craft and the purchase from Australia of four Stolkraft patrol boats, for Customs work. There was also a prospect of more of these craft being built locally.160 By the late 1990s Vietnam was spending more on its military, but much remained to be done. The PAVN had great difficulty in assembling the Navy component of a joint Navy-­Air Force formation to protect national interests in the Spratlys and Paracels. This force comprised the Petya frigates, Shershen, Osa and Turya patrol craft, supported by Su 22 and Su 27 aircraft.161 A Vietnamese Coast Guard was formed on 1 September 1998, subordinate to the Navy and very probably responsible for customs tasks.162 It assumed responsibility for much of the maritime enforcement mission.163 Not much is known of the organization’s capabilities, but it was to have received patrol boats from the PAVN, including some new construction units. The Coast Guard also procured aircraft from Poland, under an agreement signed in October 2003.164 The deal included up to ten PZL M28 Skytrucks. These aircraft were to be configured for maritime surveillance and border control, with radar and data links, but the first two, which were delivered in 2005, were fitted out purely for transport work and were operated by the Air Force.165 No more appeared and the project was apparently abandoned in favour of other acquisitions. The Coast Guard developments were accompanied by the installation of a network of up to 12 short-­range coastal radars, together with the purchase of other equipment from the Czech Republic and Russia.166 The Navy maintained a long-­standing interest in developing a submarine force to give it strategic weight, particularly with China. Crews were trained by the Russians at one point but budgetary limitations prevented plans advancing any further.167 Nevertheless, the PAVN took delivery of two midget submarines from North Korea in 1997. The boats were said to have been delivered in poor condition and were refurbished at Cam Ranh Bay. In Vietnamese service they were expected to be used primarily for diver-­related operations,168 and they provided at least a start in acquiring expertise in the complex underwater domain. Vietnamese interest in submarines was strengthened by Russian offers in 1998 to sell second-­hand Kilo class boats, with payment to be 20 per cent in cash and the remainder through barter arrangements.169 A report at the end of 2001 asserted that Vietnam would buy a Kilo from Russia,170 but this proved premature. Further indication of Vietnam’s growing interest in a submarine capability came with a report in October 2002 that it was seeking submarine training from India.171 The likelihood was that discussions with the Russians continued intermittently over this period, given the complexities of the Cam Ranh Bay issue, Vietnam’s financial liabilities and the major technical and personnel challenges involved. At the beginning of 2000 the Vietnamese Defence Minister declared that the armed forces needed a complete restructure and more money

208   Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam spent on high technology weapons systems. He also indicated that the Vietnamese Navy was being expanded and modernized, as far as the national economy would allow. The Navy’s C-­in-C was in no doubt as to the importance of his service, stating that the ‘Vietnamese People’s Navy is the key force now capable of responding to different threats in defence of national resources’.172 He maintained that coastal defence and protection of oil fields and platforms were important tasks in deterring China’s ‘creeping invasion’ of the South China Sea, but acknowledged the parlous state of his fleet and indicated a desire to buy submarines, new landing craft and missile gunboats capable of countering the Chinese Navy.173 Force development proceeded as the budgetary situation improved. In 1999 Poland proposed jointly to produce patrol boats suitable for naval or coast guard use in Vietnam, but Vietnam was already building Russian-­ designed craft.174 The Navy was keen to replace the Petyas and held discussions with Russia about acquiring two second-­hand Parchim class frigates, armed with the SS-­N-25 anti-­shipping missile, even though the modified Gepard class was the preferred ship. The local building effort had encountered difficulties and in 2005 Vietnam abandoned, at least temporarily, its efforts to produce corvettes in country. The Navy would have to be content with a local programme for missile boats. A contract was signed in March 2004, for Tarantul V class missile patrol craft, armed with the SS-­N-25 (Uran) anti-­ship missile. Two would be built in Russia and another six, with an option for an additional quartet, in Vietnam.175 This followed on the purchase of two Svetlyak patrol craft in 2001. Their rapid construction and acceptance into service showed that the Russians were once more capable of producing effective new build units in good time. The PAVN also expressed a strong interest in purchasing four second-­hand but relatively new Polish Tarantul I class patrol craft in 2005,176 as well as a range of other Polish units,177 but none was to enter service with Vietnam. Despite being more open to the world and in its approach to economic development, Vietnam still could not afford to fund much needed broad-­ based military modernization.178 Life was made more difficult through a January 2007 decision, by the fourth plenum of the Communist Party’s Central Committee that the military was to divest itself of all of its commercial enterprises – and forfeit the associated income.179 Although there was an expectation that modernization priorities would lie with maritime requirements and the projection of air power, the Army remained dominant and not particularly sympathetic to the expensive demands of the Navy or Air Force. The Navy faced other challenges. Its personnel strength in 2005 had not grown beyond 9,000 officers and sailors, together with the 27,000 naval infantry.180 Like other regional navies, it had difficulty in attracting suitable officer candidates and retaining expert staff. Most naval

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   209 personnel had served for an initial engagement of four years,181 but, in July 2005, after a change in the Military Service Law, the term of naval service (and of that of technicians in the other services) was reduced to two years,182 not long enough for those concerned to be able to contribute significantly. This change was even more significant because the PAVN eventually succeeded in securing the lion’s share of new funding in the form of an agreement with Russia in 2009 for the construction of six modified Kilo class (Type 636) submarines, for delivery from 2013 onwards. This was the most important single development in the Navy’s history and one that represented a profound challenge – for more than just the PAVN. The Vietnamese submarine project meant that within a few years China would face a very different threat in the South China Sea and one which the PLA-­N might not find easy to counter. Vietnam itself faced a number of uncomfortable realities. There would need to be substantial and lasting assistance from the Russians (and probably the Indians with their warm water experience of Russian equipment) to bring the submarines into service, let alone maintain them. In one stroke the Vietnamese government had completely altered the required balance of resources between its armed services, as well as the scale of the national technological and industrial commitment to naval capability. The importance of the submarine project within Vietnam’s defence planning was emphasized repeatedly by the leadership – as was the message that the new equipment was for the defence ‘of Vietnam’s sovereignty’.183 It remained to be seen whether the necessary measures would be put in place to actually make the new capability work. At the end of 2011, Vietnam was negotiating with the Dutch firm, Damen Schelde Naval Shipbuilding, for a programme of four Sigma class corvettes, two to be built in the Netherlands and two in Vietnam with Dutch assistance.184 This was particularly significant, because it marked a turn away from Russia as a supplier and the potential – funds allowing – for much greater access to western sensor and weapon systems. This could be another way of developing an edge over the still relatively unsophisticated, if massive PLA-­N. The truth was that Vietnam still had to cut its coat according to very tight budgetary cloth. A minimalist solution had to be adopted for the naval air arm, with an order for six amphibious Twin Otter aircraft in 2010; three being configured for maritime patrol.185 In reality, greater capability would come with the three Airbus C212–400 aircraft that the Coast Guard had ordered, the first of which entered service in July 2011.186 What was still lacking, despite some development in the Air Force, was a sophisticated over-­water anti-­shipping and air defence capability, without which the PAVN would be hard pressed to survive in any high intensity conflict in the South China Sea.

Table 11.1  Vietnamese Navy force levels Level of naval hierarchy

Type

1956 South

1956* North

1962 South

1962* North

1972 South

1972* North

1982*

1992*

2002*

2012*

1 1 2 2 3 3 3 3

Frigates MPA Corvettes Missile craft Torpedo craft Gun craft Midget submarines Mine warfare vessels Amphibious vessels** Patrol craft/gunboats***

– – – – –  7 –  3 11 50–60

– – – – – – – – – 20

– –  5 – –  4 –  5 18 52

– – – – 16  3 – –  6 40

 9 –  8 – –  1 –  2 24 46

– – –  3 18  7 –

  3 (1) –   1 (1)  8 10  5 –   3 (2)   9 (5) 40 (40)

  6 (1)  4 (2)  8 21 10 (7) –  4   5 (1) 34

  5 (1)   3 (1)   3 (1)  8   9 (4)   6 (4)  2  7   3 (3) 20

 7   2 (4)+  9   4 (4)   3 (3)  6 (2)  8   2 (4) 28

4

 8 56

Sources: Jane’s Fighting Ships; Combat Fleets of the World; Conway’s All the World’s Warships 1947–1982; The Military Balance. Notes Key: 2 = EFFECTIVE; (2) = INEFFECTIVE * Operational status and exact numbers difficult to determine with accuracy. ** Does not include minor landing craft (LCU and below). *** Patrol craft/gunboat numbers estimates only. Does not include very large numbers of armed junks in 1960–75 period or purely riverine craft. + Very basic capability only.

Democratic People’s Republic of Vietnam   211

The PAVN and the future In 2012, the PAVN faced many challenges in matching its capabilities with an ever-­present and arguably increasing maritime threat. There were no signs of any easing in the Chinese position and equal determination on the part of the Vietnamese to assert their claims and benefit from the resources of the disputed zones. Consequently, there were substantial risks that the conflict could escalate to something much more serious than the intermittent and relatively low-­level encounters that have occurred at intervals over the last few decades. In such circumstances, the PAVN has a strong case that, within limits, the more capable and flexible its forces, the less likely that the Chinese government would seek to use the PLA-­N to crush the Vietnamese presence in the Spratlys. Nevertheless, and despite the signs of increasing understanding within the Vietnamese government of this issue, the PAVN has a long way to go before it can be in such a position. Although the submarine project is well under way, improvements in other aspects of maritime warfare have yet to reach concrete form, even in their beginning.187 There is little evidence that the overall funding of the PAVN will be up to the task of achieving such improvements – even if the Navy succeeds in accessing the necessary expertise, as well as the systems and equipment involved. Indeed, just getting the submarines into effective service will be a huge task for a service of the size and capacity of the PAVN, even with extensive Russian – and Indian – assistance. The PAVN lives in interesting times.

12 Postscript Navies and the future

How the Navies got here South-­East Asia’s navies have developed unevenly in the almost seven decades since the end of the Second World War. This is understandable. Most have had some benefit from previous colonial masters, but all have had to fight for the resources necessary to generate and sustain their operational capability. Few to this point – Singapore being the outstanding exception – have enjoyed the levels of sustained and systematic support that they have needed. This has resulted in a more diversified sourcing of ships and other material than most navies would have preferred, as well as the continuation in service of a good deal of obsolescent equipment. It has also created fundamental problems in both logistics and training, as well as limiting operational availability. Development plans for several services have also been complicated by the need – constant or periodic – to contribute to internal security, and devote much effort to riverine and shallow water operations, even when there have been substantial contemporary challenges in the offshore domain. Concepts of sea control and even sea denial have often had to give way to the need to support domestic stability. In short, the various navies have, more often than not, been confined within circumstances that have forced them to make do with what they could get, rather than fully responding to national circumstances and needs. Thus, the navies of Burma, Cambodia and the Philippines in particular have developed only very limited maritime combat capabilities, despite the pressures that they face offshore. At the other end of the spectrum, the navies of Singapore, and Malaysia and Thailand, to a lesser extent, attempted to build balanced forces, with at least some combat capability in the surface, air and undersea domains. The Singapore Navy has been the region’s exemplar, executing a deliberate and long-­term development plan which has seen it emerge as the region’s most advanced, capable and balanced navy, well integrated with the maritime elements of Singapore’s Air Force and part of an increasingly sophisticated whole of government maritime security system. The Republic’s Navy has evolved from a small

Postscript   213 sea denial force to one which now fields significant sea control capabilities across the spectrum of operations and may soon aspire to limited power projection. Although they have both made substantial progress in recent years, Malaysian and Thai naval planning has been by no means as disciplined as that of Singapore. The result is that capability development has not had the same degree of consistency and there remain significant deficiencies in their force structures and, particularly for Thailand, in operational and training standards. Indonesia and Vietnam, both of which have had to labour under much greater constraints of finance and capacity than several of their ASEAN colleagues, are in a similar position. On a much smaller scale, and after perhaps unnecessary setbacks, Brunei has renewed its combat and patrol forces in a way that reflects reasonably well the need for balance between operational requirements and national capacity to provide for its offshore defence.

The immediate way ahead Despite the very different nature of the nine navies of this study, it is therefore clear that certain common trends can be identified, particularly in relation to force structure, and the future lines of development identified. First, for most (although not all) South-­East Asian navies, internal security has already become less important as a force structure determinant, just as external security demands have continued to grow. Thus, the region’s navies are developing along more conventional combat lines – the recent submarine force decisions by Malaysia, Vietnam and Indonesia reflect this. Surface combatant forces will also continue to build slowly, although not all services will be able to replace current (often very old) ships on a one for one basis. Indeed, many acquisitions will be as much to replace existing units as to add new capability and need to be considered in this light. Naval aviation will also make modest gains and the navies introducing capable surface combatants will, in time, acquire combat capable helicopters for them. Numbers, however, will remain limited. This presents real challenges in relation to the focus on ASW which will be required to counter the investment being made in submarines throughout the region. Unlike the trend elsewhere within Asia-­Pacific towards the development of amphibious forces, it is unlikely that there will be significant such accessions within South-­East Asia. Several navies already have modest amphibious and sea lift capacity, notably the Indonesian and Philippine navies, but both have significant geographically imposed internal sealift demands, arguably for national as much as for purely military purposes. Both may well add incrementally to their existing forces, but this does not mean that employment in the sea lift role will change in favour of more sophisticated combined arms amphibious operations – at least for the foreseeable future. Similarly, there are unlikely to be substantial increases in the

214   Postscript strength of support forces, although hydrographic survey and mine warfare forces may well be exceptions to that judgement, in both cases because of the growth of regional submarine forces.

The security environment and force structure Submarines aside, the prospect of future South-­East Asian naval development being largely incremental is a realistic one. There are, however, strategic pressures which may accelerate naval development over the longer term. Over the period of this study, no regional navy has predominated and, for most of the time, the USN has been the undisputed naval power in Asia-­Pacific. Whether admitted or not, the American umbrella has been one under which the nations of the region have been allowed to pursue their internal ambitions largely unthreatened and, with unfettered access to the global commons and maritime trade system, the majority have enjoyed significant economic development. But the emerging regional security environment means that the future for South-­East Asian nations is unlikely to be stable or uncomplicated, at least so far as the maritime domain is concerned. This will have important implications for navies and for armed forces and maritime security elements as a whole. Geographically, the Straits of Malacca and Singapore, the South China Sea and the Indonesian archipelago will continue to dominate South-­East Asian maritime security. Politically, the growing strength of both the Chinese and Indian navies, together with the presence of US military forces, and the USN in particular, will increasingly influence the development and operational activities of regional navies and preoccupy their commanders and planners. Security of the SLOCs will have a major bearing because of the fundamental importance to the global economy of the trade routes between East Asia, the Persian Gulf and Europe. East Asian imports of oil, gas and other raw materials together with exports of manufactured goods, all in staggering quantities, make the Straits of Malacca and Singapore and the South China Sea especially crucial arteries of that trade. Almost as important are the passages of the Indonesian archipelago, notably the Lombok and Sunda Straits, which are preferred by international deep draught ships. Piracy is showing signs of resurgence, while the potential for maritime terrorism, with activity thus far limited to Philippine waters, remains considerable. Both terrorism and piracy have the capacity to impact on SLOCs, as well as on maritime security in general. Consequently, most South-­East Asian navies will in future have SLOC security very much in mind as they prepare their force development plans, with the task of adjacent shipping protection from conventional and other threats as a priority. Thus, there will be a focus not only on capable surface combatants, helicopters and maritime patrol aircraft, but also responsive patrol and small craft to deal with the challenge of unconventional attack.

Postscript   215 Singapore’s Navy, and to some extent those of Malaysia and Thailand, will be best placed to manage such threats, but there will be increasing demand for the various navies to act more cooperatively than has been evident thus far. Focusing on SLOC security is also likely to be an important line of development for the Indonesian Navy, whose claims to a shipping protection capability remain tenuous, but whose interests in a secure maritime trading system are undeniable. The quest for offshore oil, gas and possibly other minerals, together with the ever growing regional and global demand for fish and seafood, will also remain important for the region’s navies – and the main priority for the smaller and less developed services. The importance of the quest will be highlighted by the contention over maritime boundaries in South-­ East Asia. Every South-­East Asian state except Laos (which has no coastline) still has maritime boundary disputes with at least one other nation.1 Not all disputes are serious, but those relating to the South China Sea in particular are growing in importance, because of the expectation of finding further substantial oil and gas fields there and their present and potential importance, particularly to developing economies. They are also more significant because of the growing assertiveness of China and the still uncertain basis of her claims of ‘indisputable sovereignty’. While many compromises and shared benefits have been agreed in disputed maritime zones in other parts of the world, there can be no confidence of such moderation in the South China Sea. The regional naval response to these issues will include the continued strengthening of defensive naval capabilities, as is already being demonstrated by Vietnam and, to a lesser extent, by Indonesia, Burma and Brunei. The second tier of the South-­East Asian hierarchy of offshore territorial defence and the capabilities that it encompasses will therefore remain a key preoccupation of many of the region’s navies, even those with aspirations to the protection of shipping. Arguably, this is the primary justification for submarines as a force multiplier, since such a capability creates formidable problems for any would-­be aggressor. The regional naval response will also include the development – or redevelopment – of relationships with major powers such as the US. The PN has begun to interact more closely with the USN and not only because of the hope that American aid will substitute for domestic funding in its long overdue and often touted naval modernization. Other regional navies are also engaging with the USN to a greater extent than hitherto, with at least the partial intent of balancing against the Chinese influence. For its part, Vietnam continues to play an additional card through its relationship with India. While the nations bordering on the Indian Ocean are likely to remain more ambivalent about India as another player in the maritime domain (and, in Burma’s case, happy to use China to balance India), there is no such constraint for Vietnam and this relationship may well be strengthened in the years ahead.

216   Postscript In all this, the complication for some navies – ironically, the ones likely to remain most resource constrained – is that domestic security could resurface at any time as an issue. The navies of Indonesia, Burma and the Philippines, in particular, still carry a burden of balancing internal and external security demands and will continue to have difficulty in meeting both in full, particularly if domestic situations deteriorate.

Naval budgets and resourcing An important factor in the uncertain and episodic development of South-­East Asia’s navies has long been inadequate funding, coupled with sometimes questionable use of the money that has been allocated. Such resource constraints have been caused by several factors, including the limits on national budgets in what in many cases were newly emerging nations, such as Indonesia and Malaysia. In some cases, too, the problems created by the priority for national development were exacerbated by the existence of internal security threats. These usually meant that defence funding supported land force operations, to the detriment of navies and air forces. Whether because of such demands or otherwise, many of the region’s armies also came to dominate their military establishments and, rightly or otherwise, have thereby been able to direct funding to themselves. Given the immaturity of joint organizations and planning in most of the countries of this study – with the notable exception of Singapore – achieving a rational rebalancing of allocated monies within national defence machinery will be a protracted and probably fitful process, even when the strategic imperatives appear obvious. While it is fair to some degree to claim insufficient resources as a cause of slow or uneven development, it also might be more accurate to suggest that funding has not matched force development ambitions, which themselves have not always been realistic. Several South-­East Asian navies have had long-­standing ambitions to introduce submarine forces, but the navies concerned have not necessarily had the capacity to support such units, whether from the perspective of the individual capability itself or from that of the potential effect of other force elements through the draw-­away of funding. The Indonesian Navy, for example, has had two 209 class boats for many years, but has not been able, thus far, to add to them so as to produce an operationally credible force. Similarly, the Malaysian Navy had to wait many more years than it wished because other priorities demanded attention, priorities which were not only legitimate in themselves but which arguably ranked higher in any assessment of national strategic need and consequent maritime requirements. The RTN has yet to introduce its long-­desired submarine force, for much the same reasons. Given the difficulties which the Thais have had with their small carrier, this at least suggests a greater degree of caution and of understanding (and control) of

Postscript   217 the capability management implications than was the case in the past – if not on the part of the Navy, then certainly of the Thai government. Much has been made in this book of the eclectic force development approach taken by many of the region’s navies and of the lack of continuity and consistency in many acquisitions. It is easy to be critical of ship and aircraft purchases from a wide selection of supplying countries and of the logistics and personnel difficulties they invariably cause. In the case of several South-­East Asian navies, however, the sometimes apparently opportunistic acquisitions may result from judgements that an opportunity foregone may not appear again. It is fair to say that there has been a degree of realism in this. In some cases too, limited funding has driven acquisition decisions along non-­preferred paths, selecting what has been available for the price rather than what has been needed for the task – it is likely that the recent Malaysian OPV order is an example of this. Furthermore, matters other than the needs of navies have resulted in purchases that have not been in the best interests of the navies concerned. The Indonesian government purchase of some 39 former East German Navy ships exemplified this problem. While there were some reasonable political and perhaps industrial reasons for the decision, it burdened the Navy with ageing ships, many of which were unsuited to the required tasking and for the tropical environment in which they would operate. Malaysia had a similar experience with the Iraqi corvettes. Good enough, however, can be a legitimate enemy of the best and, as one of the authors has noted elsewhere in a study of South Asian navies,2 bedeviled by similar problems, it is sometimes better to be able to do something badly than not to be able to do it at all. Vietnam, for example, has clearly selected the Russian Kilo class submarines because the type not only came from a known supplier with strong existing links to the Vietnamese military, but also since this was the only class that could be afforded in sufficient numbers to create a serious capability. Naval budgets have also, in some cases, been affected by a lack of transparency in the way that they have been allocated and managed. An inability to locate programmed funds for Philippine Navy modernization and over-­spending on the construction programme for the Malaysian Navy OPVs are two examples, and there are others in which doubts exist as to whether the management of funds has been entirely above board. This is a key issue for the navies involved, particularly in the evolving democracies. The effective maintenance of naval capability in the absence of extraordinary levels of foreign assistance requires a long-­term, stable and sustained commitment by government. This sort of commitment requires that those who are paying the bills can be confident that their money is being well spent. On the other hand, there is an equal responsibility for governments and bureaucracies to be similarly responsible in their allocation and management of budgets.

218   Postscript For the future, funding for the region’s navies may become more generous as external security issues gain more dominance and economies become stronger. Nevertheless, larger budgets may not overcome some or all of the challenges that have led to less than optimum acquisition spending in the past. Whether governance arrangements improve significantly in the region is to a large degree not in the hands of navies, but it will be very much in the interest of those services to ensure that they do get best value for the money spent, not just for its own sake, but to assist in the provision of further funding.

Navies and their people There is an associated issue for the majority of the region’s navies. The competing demands of industry and commerce for skilled and able people will create increasing pressure on retention, as well as recruitment. Effective naval forces depend not just on capable ships. The quality of their people has always been a determining factor in success. Both the need to ensure that the right officers and sailors can be recruited, trained and retained and the further requirement to ensure that they are sufficiently well-­off not to be tempted into dubious contracts and acquisitions mean that money must be found for pay and conditions. Furthermore, such people will demand the self-­respect of professional credibility, which means – even without other drivers – that other funds will need to be found for sustainment, training and operations. In other words, while the increasingly complex strategic situation will create demands for greater capability, both on paper and in reality, so too will the needs of the navies’ personnel. In increasingly sophisticated, dynamic and forward looking economies, harbour bound and token services will not survive. This challenge has already proved burdensome for many of the region’s navies, as they compete with other sectors of expanding economies for talent which is all too scarce. The problem is in no way limited to developing nations, with Australia’s Navy experiencing the same problem, as a booming mining sector has caused a severe loss of skilled technical staff, especially from the submarine arm. Dependence on expert personnel will become ever more apparent as ships, submarines and aircraft become more technologically advanced. With substantial populations from which to draw, most of South-­East Asia’s navies will not lack access to enough people. Yet, to ensure that they build capable forces, able to sustain operations over protracted periods and to get the most from the weapons systems they do purchase, the region’s navies will need to devote more attention to training, especially technical training, to logistics support and in providing access to advanced maintenance facilities – in country, if not within the navies themselves. Some South-­East Asian navies have a history of allowing ships and other systems to deteriorate through inadequate logistics support and maintenance effort. To avoid repeating the

Postscript   219 pattern there will need to be government-­wide dedicated effort, including the establishment of priorities for national development and the part that the respective navies are expected to play in it. Once again, the Singapore model has much to offer, although it would not necessarily suit all other countries in the region – at least in its totality. One means by which the extent of this problem may be reduced is adoption of more rational acquisition strategies. Any reduction in the number of different supply chains associated with equipment purchases from a range of different countries would have significant benefits. Apart from reducing costs, it would simplify training regimes, both for operators and for maintenance personnel and potentially reduce the demand for trained staff as a whole.

Cooperation or confrontation South-­East Asian navies are growing and becoming more capable, and maritime security issues are assuming an ever more dominant profile in the region. This is happening even as, and to an extent because, China’s Navy is expanding rapidly and the US has indicated its strong interest in maintaining its place in the region. One result of these developments is that South-­ East Asian waters are becoming a more intense operating environment, with the main concentrations of activity continuing to be the South China Sea, Straits of Malacca and Singapore and the Indonesian archipelago. With several maritime boundaries still to be delimited and growing demand for offshore resources, there is a potential for clashes at sea between the region’s navies. Indeed there have already been standoffs, such as those between the Malaysian and Indonesian Navies and others involving China’s Navy with forces of Vietnam, the Philippines and the USN. There is also only a limited history of cooperation among the region’s navies, despite decades of effort to build trust and confidence. There is a sense that cooperation occurs (as in the MALSINDO patrols) only when there is a demonstrated need for it. In the case of MALSINDO the catalyst appears to have been the regional maritime security initiative (RMSI) announced in 2004 by the USN and the associated fear that external powers would become directly involved in local counter-­piracy operations. Until recently the focus of confidence building measures has been, by default, on the operations of essentially surface navies. The introduction and expansion of submarine forces in South-­East Asian navies adds another dimension to the challenge – a dimension which itself will be expanded by the growing interest of other navies in the region and the probability that their submarines will also seek to operate in South-­East Asian waters. Further complicating this picture, submarines will inevitably be drawn to ocean areas of common interest, including choke points such as the entries and exits from the Straits and the South China Sea.

220   Postscript There is therefore a need for a more serious approach to maritime confidence and security building among the navies of South-­East Asia and among other navies likely to be operating in South-­East Asian waters. Commentators have begun suggesting a form of incidents at sea regime, together with some form of coordination of submarine operating areas. There have also been moves to implement fully the 2002 Declaration on the Conduct of the Parties in the South China Sea. Such initiatives would provide some confidence that unintended confrontations might be avoided or managed sensibly. Whether the level of trust necessary for such measures to work effectively can be generated is questionable. History suggests that the measures are most likely to appear only in the wake of some otherwise avoidable incident at sea.

The hierarchy of navies Given the complex challenges faced by South-­East Asian navies, it is difficult to make exact predictions as to their future capability levels and overall force structures, even in the short term. This is further complicated by the fact that technological change and evolving threats mean that navies must modernize even to remain at a given level of capability and at a rank within the hierarchy. Nevertheless, the trends and the likely access that the various navies will have to funding, do allow an estimate of capacity for a decade in the future and this is shown in Table 12.1. What will be most clearly apparent from the table is that there will be very few changes in the hierarchy and in the relative capabilities of any of the navies. Even the suggestion that Singapore may advance to a force projection role is tentative, for the RSN, as much as any other navy, will need to ‘paddle like fury’ just to remain in the same position. Indonesia’s potential improvement is similarly uncertain and will depend largely upon Table 12.1  Hierarchy of South-East Asian navies Rank

2012

2022

1

A Limited Force Projection

1

Adjacent Shipping Protection

Singapore Malaysia Thailand

Malaysia Thailand Indonesia

2

Offshore Territorial Defence

Indonesia Vietnam

Vietnam Brunei Burma

3

Inshore Territorial Defence

Brunei Burma

Philippines

4

Constabulary

Philippines Cambodia

Cambodia

Singapore

Postscript   221 c­ ontinuing national stability and economic development. This has long been the nature of naval capability, but the continuing pace of technological change and the ever greater complexity of the maritime environment mean that the imperative to improve and advance will remain, whether or not the domestic environment is favourable and the resource base adequate.

Bringing it together All this means that the navies of South-­East Asia face both challenges and opportunities as the twenty-­first century draws onward. In some ways, they can be considered as reflecting in microcosm the challenges and opportunities faced by their parent nations. Organizational, financial, technological and human challenges will need to be identified and met at the same time as the complex problems of an evolving maritime security environment demand attention. The very different circumstances in which the nine navies of this study are placed mean that collective judgements and predictions are difficult to make. Nevertheless, some themes can be suggested. The first is that of the need for effective governance and sustained financial commitments which are aligned to what nations expect their navies to do. The day of token fleets has passed. Even the most basic investment in modern naval capability is on a scale that demands an effective return to tax payers. The second is that both inter-­service and inter-­agency requirements must be worked into both force structures and operational concepts. This must not be at the expense of either combat capability or wider maritime domain needs and navies and naval staffs need to be able to argue the ‘naval case’ with an appropriate degree of sophistication and a perspective of what is required across the full spectrum of operations. This understanding must also extend into the operations conducted by navies and the way in which even individual ships execute their missions. Much has been said in the West about the ‘strategic corporal’ but in South-­East Asia, the critical element in the future is as likely to be the ‘strategic patrol boat’. Third, and related to the previous point, South-­East Asian navies need to pursue cooperation with their neighbours and encourage their nations to settle as many of the irritating boundary disputes as possible. While the elephant in the regional room will remain the South China Sea, removal of the battery of unresolved issues elsewhere within the maritime domain can only assist in improving the environment for resolution there. Clearly, no matter what the major developments will be in South-­East Asian maritime security, each of the navies of this study will have a significant role to play within its sphere of influence. And if there is one judgement that is absolutely consistent for all nine services, it is that each nation needs to pay more attention to its navy and to the maritime domain, not less.

Notes

1  Introduction 1 See Michael A. Morris, The Expansion of Third World Navies, Macmillan, London, 1987, and S.W. Haines ‘Third World navies: Myths and realities’, Naval Forces, April 1988. 2 Eric Grove, The Future of Sea Power, US Naval Institute, Annapolis, Maryland, 1990, pp. 236–241. 2  The Royal Brunei Navy   1 Tim Huxley, ‘Brunei: Defending a mini-­state,’ Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1987, p. 227.   2 Chin Kin Wah, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore: The Transformation of a Security System 1957–1971, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1983, pp. 62–63.   3 D.S. Ranjit Singh, Brunei 1839–1983: The Problems of Political Survival, Oxford University Press, Singapore, 1984, pp. 187–197.   4 David Leake, Jr., Brunei: The Modern Southeast-­Asian Islamic Sultanate, McFarland, Jefferson, North Carolina, 1989, p. 142.   5 Chin Kin Wah, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore, pp. 66–69.   6 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1968–69, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1968, p. 28.   7 Eric J. Grove, From Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War II, US Naval Institute, Annapolis, MD, 1987, pp. 285–295.   8 D.S. Ranjit Singh, Brunei 1839–1983, p. 211.   9 Leake, Brunei, p. 114. 10 Grove, From Vanguard to Trident, p. 307. 11 Huxley, ‘Brunei: Defending a mini-­state’, p. 228. 12 Huxley, ‘Brunei: Defending a mini-­state’, p. 230. 13 Leake, Brunei, pp. 61–62. 14 K. Das, ‘Welcome to the Club’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 26 March 1982, p. 16. 15 Amitav Acharya, A Survey of Military Co-­operation among ASEAN States: Bilateralism or Alliance? Occasional Paper No. 14, Centre for Strategic and International Studies, York University, Toronto, 1990, Appendix 1. 16 Bilveer Singh, ‘Vulnerable allies: Singapore-­Brunei defence bilateralism’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/92, May 1992, p. 12. 17 Zakaria Haji Ahmad, ‘The military and development in Malaysia and Brunei, with a short survey on Singapore’, J. Soedjati Djiwandono and Yong Mun Cheong, eds, Soldiers and Stability in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1988, p. 247.

Notes   223 18 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, Jane’s, Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1991, p. 68. 19 Charles van der Donckt, The Changing Naval Environment in Southeast Asia, Extra-­Mural Paper No. 56, Operational Research and Analysis Establishment, Department of National Defence, Ottawa, Canada, November 1991, pp. 72–73. 20 ‘ASEAN Special Report: Options for defence’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 17(8), 22 February 1992, pp. 293–294. 21 ‘Brunei patrol vessel contest starts’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 10, No. 14, 8 October 1988, p. 862. 22 Shuhud Saaid, ‘The Royal Brunei armed forces: Money cannot buy men’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/88, January 1988, p. 19. 23 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, p. 68. 24 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Vosper dropped in Brunei contest’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 14, No. 9, 1 September 1990, p. 305. 25 Sam Bateman, ‘Features: ASEAN’s tiger navies’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 102, No. 003, 1 April 1997, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 26 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Features, Fast attack craft staying afloat in a sea of change’, Jane’s International Defence Review, 1 October 1998, Vol. 031, No. 010, p.  1. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 27 Robert Karniol, ‘Brunei seeks patrol craft’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 022(022), 3 December 1994. http://search.janes.com (10 June 2009). 28 Brunei apparently reqested the supply of 48 Harpoon missiles from the US Navy through a Foreign Military Sales contract. See ‘International Defence Digest, Brunei requests Harpoon’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 029, No. 008, 1 August 1996. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009). 29 ‘Brunei considers prime options’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 100, No. 004, 1 August 1995. http://search.janes.com (on 11 June 2009). 30 ‘Brunei considers prime options’, Jane’s Navy International. 31 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Brunei awards patrol vessel project’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/96, August 1996, p. 52. 32 ‘Exhibition: LIMA ‘95, Yarrow wins Brunei OPV deal’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 101, No. 001, 1 January 1996. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009). 33 ‘The UK presses Brunei on buy’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 025, No. 015, 10 April 1996. http://search.janes.com (on 11 June 2009). 34 Richard Scott, ‘Headline News: UK package is selected for Brunei’s New OPVs’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 027, No. 010, 12 March 1997. http://search.janes.com (10 June 2009). 35 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1998–99, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1998, p. 73. 36 ‘Contract News, Royal Brunei Navy to upgrade its FAC fleet’, Jane’s Defence Contracts, 1 September 1997, http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 37 Lok, ‘Features: Fast attack craft staying afloat in a sea of change’, Jane’s International Defence Review. 38 Mike Wells, ‘Analysis: Blazing the trail in Brunei’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 102, No. 006, 1 August 1997. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 39 ‘ASEAN: Brunei, US conduct naval exercise’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/2002, June 2002, p. 49. 40 ‘External affairs, Brunei’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment – Southeast Asia, 7 July 2008. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 41 ‘ASEAN: Brunei and Singapore conduct naval exercise’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/99, May 1999, p. 60. 42 ‘South China Sea: tension rises’, Jane’s Intelligence Digest, 6 September 2000. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009).

224   Notes 43 Robert Karniol, ‘Brunei poised to release first Defence White Paper’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 5 May 2004. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 44 Robert Karniol, ‘Pehin Datu Singamanteri Colonel (L) Dato Paduka Haji Mohammad Yasmin Bin Haji Umar – Brunei Permanent Secretary of Defence (Policy and Administration)’ Jane’s Defence Weekly, 1 September 2004. http:// search.janes.com (10 June 2009). 45 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon Surrey, 2005, p. 78. 46 Robert Karniol, ‘Brunei navy plans boost in personnel’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 30 May 2001. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 47 Karniol, ‘Brunei navy plans boost in personnel’, Jane’s Defence Weekly. 48 Nick Brown, ‘Royal Brunei Navy OPV programme progresses’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 September 2002. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 49 ‘In Brief: Brunei awards contract to Flagship’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 23 October 2002. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009). 50 Richard Scott and Nick Brown, ‘Brunei’s OPV programme approaches critical phase’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 May 2003, p.  1. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 51 Richard Scott, ‘Brunei and BAE Systems in dispute over acceptance of three ships’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 13 April 2005. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 52 Scott, ‘Brunei and BAE Systems in dispute over acceptance of three ships’. 53 Nick Brown, ‘Brunei refutes claims around non-­acceptance of corvettes’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 November 2006. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009). 54 ‘Brunei navy ships leave the Clyde’, Shipping and Shipbuilding News, 3 August 2007. 55 Richard Scott, ‘Brunei considers offloading OPVs as BAE dispute ends’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 July 2007. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 56 Richard Scott, ‘Brunei considers disposal options as OPVs move to lay-­up berths’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 29 August 2007. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009). 57 Robert Karniol, ‘Brunei keeps up pledge with release of updated White Paper’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 4 July 2007, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (10 June 2009). 58 Jon Grevatt, ‘Brunei announces defence-­spending cuts’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 11 March 2008. http://search.janes.com (11 June 2009). 59 ‘MinDef accepts 2 Darussalam-­class offshore patrol vessels’. security-­maritime@ yahoogroups.com (10 January 2011). 60 ‘Brunei’, Jane’s World Navies, 18 January 2011. http://jwna.janes.com (8 March 2011). 61 ‘Royal Brunei Navy’s newest patrol boat commissioning ceremony’, 12 December 2011. www.pmo.gov.bn (3 March 2012). 62 Michael Nitz, ‘Mystery patrol craft starts trials out of Lürssen Werft yard’, Jane’s Navy International, 19 May 2009. http://www4.janes.com (8 March 2011). 63 Richard Scott and Michael Nitz, ‘New photos lift veil of secrecy over Brunei OPVs’, Jane’s Navy International, 14 April 2010, http://www4.janes.com (8 March 2011). 64 Scott and Nitz, ‘New photos lift veil of secrecy over Brunei OPVs’. 65 ‘MinDef accepts 2 Darussalam-­class offshore patrol vessels’. 66 ‘Brunei inducts interceptor’, Jane’s Navy International, January/February 2012, p. 8. 67 ‘Brunei’, Jane’s World Navies. 68 Robert Karniol, ‘Brunei armed forces reform: Striking out for change’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 22 December 2004, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (9 June 2009). 69 Karniol, ‘Brunei armed forces reform’.

Notes   225 3  Burma’s Navy    1 Donald M. Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, Frederica M. Bunge, Burma: A Country Study, American University (for the Department of the Army), Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1983, pp. 39–40.    2 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 47.    3 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 47.    4 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 51.    5 Melinda W. Cooke, ‘National security’, Frederica M. Bunge, Burma: A Country Study, American University (for the Department of the Army), Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1983, pp. 244–245.    6 Andrew Selth, The Burma Navy, Working Paper No. 313, Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University, Canberra, 1997, p. 1.    7 Selth, The Burma Navy, p. 1.    8 Francis McMurtrie, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1944/5, reprint, David and Charles Reprints, Newton Abbot, Devon, 1971, p. 127a.    9 Francis McMurtrie, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1947–48, Samson Low, Marston, London, 1948, p. 102.   10 Andrew Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces: Power without Glory, EastBridge Books, Norwalk, CT, 2002, p. 185.   11 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 245.   12 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 245.   13 William Ashton, ‘The Burmese Navy’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 6, No. 1, 1 January 1994, p. 36.   14 Burma has 3,200 km of navigable waters, including about 1,000 km along the Irrawaddy River, to within 50 km of the Chinese border. Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 5.   15 Ashton, ‘The Burmese Navy’, p. 37.   16 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1950–51, Samson Low, Marston, London, 1951, pp. 139–140.   17 Blackman, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1950–51, pp. 136–137.   18 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   19 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 189.   20 Raymond V. B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1957–58, Samson Low, Marston, p. 135.   21 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1961–62, Samson Low, Marston, London, 1961, p. 27.   22 Andrew Selth, ‘Burma’s maritime strategy’, Jürgen Schwarz, Wilfred A. Herman and Hans-­Frank Seller, Maritime Strategies in Asia, White Lotus, Bangkok, 2002, p. 295.   23 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 185.   24 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 253.   25 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 253.   26 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 253.   27 Andrew Selth, ‘Australian defence contacts with Burma, 1945–1987’, Modern Asian Studies, Vol. 26, No. 3, July 1992, p. 456.   28 Selth, ‘Australian defence contacts with Burma, 1945–1987’, p. 457.   29 Selth, ‘Australian defence contacts with Burma, 1945–1987’, pp. 458–9.   30 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 56.   31 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 56.   32 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 52.   33 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 58.   34 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, pp. 58–59.   35 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 12.

226   Notes   36 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 15.   37 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 15.   38 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 189.   39 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 218.   40 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1967–68, Samson Low, Marston, London, 1967, p. 30.   41 Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1967–68, p. 31.   42 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 187.   43 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   44 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p.  186. There is no confirmation of this acquisition in contemporary Jane’s Fighting Ships.   45 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 67.   46 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 252.   47 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 252.   48 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 50.   49 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 68.   50 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 69.   51 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 251.   52 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 246.   53 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 226.   54 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 229.   55 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   56 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 188.   57 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 258.   58 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   59 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   60 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   61 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 186.   62 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 255.   63 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 255.   64 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 188.   65 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 189.   66 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 256.   67 Cooke, ‘National security’, p. 246.   68 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 12.   69 Christina Fink, Living Silence: Burma under Military Rule, Zed Books, London, 2001, p. 51.   70 Fink, Living Silence, pp. 53–55.   71 Fink, Living Silence, pp. 61–62.   72 Dr Bilveer Singh, ‘Myanmar: Southeast Asia’s problem state’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/92, April 1992, p. 30.   73 Micool Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/2001, July 2001, p. 7.   74 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 55.   75 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 7.   76 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Chinese naval base – many rumors, few facts’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XIX/XX, No. 12/1, June–July 1993, p. 25.   77 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 191.   78 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 187.   79 The Burma Navy Commander who was a student with one of the authors at the US Naval War College in Newport RI, in 1985–1986, still proudly wore the winter uniform with which he had been issued as a Midshipman at Britannia Royal Naval College, Dartmouth, some 20 years previously.   80 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 189.

Notes   227   81 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 189.   82 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 189.   83 This was an American license-­built version of the Fokker F-­27.   84 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 15.   85 Micool Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s armed forces and their ongoing campaigns’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/99, March 1999, p. 10. These were said to include the Hainan Class patrol craft, maritime surveillance systems and electronic warfare systems.   86 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 7.   87 Formal application to join ASEAN had been made in August 1986. ‘ASEAN and Indo-­China: Myanmar hands over formal application’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/86, October 1986, p. 71.   88 Norliza Dali (compiler), ‘South Asia: MYANMAR – Chinese seeks [sic] naval power through aid for Myanmar’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/93, March 1993, pp. 95–96.   89 Norliza Dali, ‘South Asia: MYANMAR – Chinese seeks [sic] naval power through aid for Myanmar’, pp. 95–96.   90 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s armed forces and their ongoing campaigns’, p.  11. Desmond Ball is quite definite as to the Chinese involvement in this project. Desmond Ball, ‘Asia: SIGINT strengths form a vital part of Burma’s military muscle’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 010, No. 003, 1 March 1998. http:// intranet.defence.gov.au/jrl/janes/ (21 September 2005).   91 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 196.   92 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 197.   93 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 197.   94 Kay Merrill, ‘Myanmar’s China connection’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter: Annual Reference Edition 1998, Vol. XXIV, No. 1, p. 20.   95 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 17.   96 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 11.   97 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Cynical ploys disguise continuing repression’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter: 1993 Annual Reference Edition, December 1992– January 1993, Vol. XIX, No. 6/7, p. 58.   98 Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Cynical ploys disguise continuing repression’, p. 58.   99 Anthony Davis, ‘Asia: Burma casts wary eye on China’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 011, No. 006, 1 June 1999, p. 3. http://intranet.defence.gov.au (24 April 2006). 100 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 32. 101 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar: The armed forces expand,’ Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter: Annual Reference Edition, 1997, p. 33. 102 Micool Brooke, ‘The armed forces of Myanmar’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/98, January 1998, p. 16. 103 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 4. 104 Rozalina Mohd Radzi, ‘South Asia: Naval, air forces bomb Irrawaddy Delta’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/91, November 1991, p. 121. 105 According to Andrew Selth, ten Hainan class patrol craft were bought in 1989. Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 191. 106 Norliza Dali (compiler), ‘South Asia: Myanmar – Junta takes delivery of Polish choppers’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/92, September 1992, p. 108. 107 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 11. 108 Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Cynical ploys disguise continuing repression’, p. 59. 109 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships, 2002–03, Jane’s Information Group, Surrey, 2002, p. 82. 110 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 193. 111 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 193.

228   Notes 112 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar Navy acquires SSM capability’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter: Annual Reference Edition 1999, Vol. XXV, No. 1, p. 24. 113 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2005. p.  498. This is a considerably longer range than that quoted by Selth in Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 19. 114 Saunders, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, p. 498. 115 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1997–98, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon Surrey, 2002, p. 80. 116 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 195. 117 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 195. 118 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 196. 119 ‘Navy, Myanmar’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 9 February 2005, p. 1. http://www4.janes.com.htm (2 March 2006). 120 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 194. 121 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2011–2012, IHS Jane’s, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2011, p. 543. 122 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Another good year for the SLORC’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter: Annual Reference Edition 1996, Vol. XXII, No. 1/2, January/ February 1996, p. 25. 123 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 194. 124 The Nawarats are listed in Jane’s Fighting Ships 1999–2000 but are not in Jane’s Fighting Ships 2000–2001. 125 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 192. 126 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar: “Charm offensive” working’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter: Annual Reference Edition, 1995, Vol. XXI, No. 6/7, December 1994/ January 1995, p. 42. 127 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 192. 128 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 193. 129 Saunders, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, p. 498. 130 ‘ASEAN: Myanmar’s ordered warships’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/2002, March 2002, p. 55. 131 Rangoon is called Yangon by the military regime. 132 Major (Rtd) R. Sachi, Miss Ellisha Nasruddin and Benjamin Machmud, ‘Asia-­ Pacific, the year in review: Military balance Asia-­Pacific’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 110. 133 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 196. 134 Norliza Dali (compiler), ‘South Asia: Myanmar – jitters over naval build-­up’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 165. 135 Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Chinese naval base – many rumors, few facts’, p. 25. 136 ‘Newsletter’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXI, No. 4/5, October–November 1994, p. 25. 137 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 196. 138 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 196. 139 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 7. 140 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 79. 141 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 12. 142 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 93. 143 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 12. 144 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 191. See also, ‘Myanmar’, Jane’s World Navies, 6 October 2010. http://search.janes.com (15 November 2010). 145 Of interest, a Google Earth search of the Seikkyi area on 23 May 2008 revealed no evidence of that Training HQ. Furthermore, another source in 2005 suggests that the move was still in the planning stage at that time. ‘Navy,

Notes   229 Myanmar’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 9 February 2005, p. 1. www4.janes.com.htm (2 March 2006). 146 Bruce Hawke, ‘Myanmar installs new naval radar’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 21 February 2001. www4.janes.com.htm (30 March 2006). 147 Hawke, ‘Myanmar installs new naval radar’. 148 Robert Karniol, ‘Myanmar bolsters Coco Island naval facilities’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 8 January 2003. http://intranet.defence.gov.au/jrl/janes (4 April 2006). While Google Earth may not be a definitive source, it shows no jetty on Coco Island. There does appear to be access through the reef to a landing area at the northern end of the island, adjacent to the runway. 149 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 12. 150 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 36. 151 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s armed forces and their ongoing campaigns’, p. 11. 152 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s armed forces and their ongoing campaigns’, p. 11. 153 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s armed forces and their ongoing campaigns’, p. 11. 154 ‘ASEAN: Myanmar ordered warships’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/2002, March 2002, p. 7. 155 William Ashton, ‘Myanmar: Invasion fears prompt search for air defences’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. 27, No. 2, March 2001, pp. 32 and 34. 156 Frank Downs, ‘Myanmar and North Korea: Birds of a feather’? Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. 29, No. 7, October 2003, p.  38. This report may also explain an earlier one suggesting that Burma Navy personnel were undergoing submariner training in Pakistan. William Ashton, ‘Myanmar junta forges secret defence ties’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXVI, No. 4, June/July 2000, p. 16. Note that the Volume number should have been XXVII to retain the sequence. 157 Robert Karniol, ‘Myanmar ditches submarine deal’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 June 2003. http://intranet.defence.gov.au/jrl/janes (3 April 2006). This report notes that cost and doubts as to the Navy’s capacity to develop an effective operational capability were major factors. 158 Downs, ‘Myanmar and North Korea: Birds of a feather?’, p. 38. 159 Brooke, ‘Myanmar’s security challenges for the 21st century’, p. 11. 160 ‘Burma’s Navy chief in India’, The Irrawaddy, 14 March 2010. www.irrawaddy. org/article.php?art_id=17874 (12 March 2010). 161 Rahul Bedi, ‘India finalises transfers to Myanmar’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 January 2006. http://intranet.defence.gov.au/jrl/janes (18 April 2006). 162 ‘Myanmar joins multilateral naval exercise to court India’s favour’, Jane’s Intelligence Watch Report: Daily Update, 11 January 2006. www4.janes.com.htm (17 March 2006). 163 ‘Myanmar’, Jane’s World Navies, 6 October 2010. http://search.janes.com (15 November 2010). 164 Saunders, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2011–2012, p. 542. 165 ‘Myanmar’, Jane’s World Navies, 6 October 2010. 166 ‘Unable to help Myanmar relief efforts, U.S. Navy vessels sailing away’, 4 June 2008. www.burmalivechat.com 10 February 2011. 167 ‘Myanmar’, Jane’s World Navies, 6 October 2010. 168 William Ashton, ‘ASIA: Burma’s armed forces – preparing for the 21st century’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 010, No. 011, 1 November 1998. http:// www4.janes.com.htm (18 April 2006). 169 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 199. 170 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, pp. 198–199. 171 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 199. 172 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 199. 173 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 199.

230   Notes 174 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 200. 175 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 200. 176 ‘Myanmar’, Jane’s World Navies, 6 October 2010. 177 Sudha Ramachandran, ‘Myanmar plays off India and China’, Asia Times Online, 17 August 2005, p. 1. www.atimes.com/atimes/South_Asia/GH17Df01. html (18 August 2005). 178 Andrew Selth, ‘Burma, China and the myth of Chinese military bases’, Asian Security, Vol. 3, No. 3, 2007, p. 279. 179 Selth, ‘Burma, China and the myth of Chinese military bases’, p. 279. 180 Selth, Burma’s Armed Forces, p. 200. 4  The Royal Cambodian Navy    1 Chris Curtis, Commander RAN, Maritime Security Cambodia, unofficial paper prepared within the International Policy Division of the Australian Department of Defence, April 2006, p. 16.    2 Donald M. Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, Russell R. Ross, ed., Cambodia: A Country Study, Library of Congress for the Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1990, p. 22.    3 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 22.    4 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 24.    5 Frank Tatu, ‘National security’, Russell R. Ross, ed., Cambodia: A Country Study, Library of Congress for the Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1990, p. 247.    6 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 248.    7 David Chandler, A History of Cambodia, Westview Press, Boulder CO, 4th edn, 2008, p. 216.    8 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 24.    9 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 25.   10 Russell R. Ross, ed., Cambodia: A Country Study, Library of Congress for the Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1990, p. 225.   11 Seekins, ‘Historical setting’, p. 26. Vietnam and Laos were also granted independence on the same day. For Cambodia, 9 November 1953 was celebrated as Independence Day.   12 Raymond V. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1957–58, Sampson, Low Marston, London, 1957, p. 133.   13 Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1957–58, p. 133.   14 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 251.   15 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 252.   16 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 232.   17 Raymond V. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1960–61, Sampson, Low Marston, London, 1960, p. 111.   18 Raymond V. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1967–68, Sampson, Low Marston, London, 1967, p. 32.   19 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 253.   20 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 250.   21 Raymond V. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1970–71, Sampson, Low Marston, London, 1970, p. 39.   22 Raymond V. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1972–73, Sampson, Low Marston, London, 1972, p. 41.   23 Raymond V. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1969–70, Sampson, Low Marston, London, 1969, p. 37.   24 Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1969–70, p. 37.   25 Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1970–71, p. 39.

Notes   231   26 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 236.   27 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 254.   28 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 255.   29 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 255.   30 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 250.   31 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 236.   32 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 251.   33 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 251.   34 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 252.   35 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1992, p. 76.   36 Captain John E. Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1975–76, Macdonald and Jane’s, London, 1975, p. 223.   37 Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1975–76, p. 223.   38 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 253.   39 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 254.   40 Captain John E. Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1976–77, Macdonald and Jane’s, London, 1976, p. 296.   41 Capture and Release of SS Mayagüez by Khmer Rouge forces in May 1975, p. 1. www. usmm.org/mayaguez.html (10 December 2008).   42 Capture and Release of SS Mayagüez by Khmer Rouge forces in May 1975, p. 2.   43 Capture and Release of SS Mayagüez by Khmer Rouge forces in May 1975, p. 6.   44 Mayagüez incident, p. 1. http://en.wikepedia.org/wiki/Mayag%C3%BCez_incident (10 December 2008).   45 Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1976–77, p. 296.   46 Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1976–77, p.  296. Captain John E. Moore., ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1983–84, Jane’s Publishing Company, London, 1983, p. 297.   47 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 255.   48 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 262. Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 256.   49 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 262.   50 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 263.   51 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 264.   52 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 266.   53 Hun Sen was not leader of Cambodia during the time of the UN interregnum in 1992–1993. Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 272.   54 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 268.   55 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 268.   56 Tatu, ‘National security’, pp. 271–272.   57 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 280.   58 Tatu, ‘National security’, pp. 280–281.   59 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 284.   60 Tatu, ‘National security’, p. 291.   61 Captain John E. Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1988–89, Jane’s Publishing Company, London, 1988, p. 332.   62 Captain John E. Moore, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1987–88, Jane’s Publishing Company, London, 1987, p. 328.   63 Moore, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1987–88, p. 327.   64 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1989–90, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1989, p. 342.   65 Clive Schofield, ‘Unlocking the seabed resources of the Gulf of Thailand’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 29, No. 2, August 2007, pp. 293–294.   66 Schofield, ‘Unlocking the seabed resources of the Gulf of Thailand’, p. 296.   67 ‘Around the world: Thais report sinking a Cambodian gunboat’, New York Times, 1 January 1982. http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html (20 May 2006).

232   Notes   68 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 285.   69 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 286.   70 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 287.   71 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000: Security and Development, Royal Government of Cambodia, 2000, p. 6. www.mond.gov.kh/index/whitepapers.asp (6 January 2009).   72 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1990–91, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1990, p. 74.   73 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1993–94, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1993, p. 83.   74 Captain Richard Sharpe, ‘Maritime strategies: Regional navies growing’, Asia-­ Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXI, No. 2/3, August/September 1994, p. 30.   75 ‘Asia-­Pacific, Cambodia bolstering its patrol boat fleet’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 24, No. 11, 16 September 1995, p.  16. www4.janes.com (30 December 2008).   76 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000: Security and Development, pp. 16–18.   77 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000: Security and Development, p. 12.   78 ‘ASEAN and Indo-­China: Cambodian navy workshop from Australia’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/96, June 1996, p. 121.   79 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1993–94, p. 83.   80 ‘Naval forces update: The Cambodian Navy aims for bluer waters’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 026, No. 024, 11 December 1996. http://jdw.janes.com, p. 2 (30 December 2008)   81 ‘HLL Shipyard delivers two fast boats to Royal Cambodian Navy’, New Straits Times, 18 January 1997. http://global.factiva.com.ezproxy.uow.edu.au (29 December 2008).   82 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1994–95, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1994, p. 82.   83 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1998–99, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1998, p. 85.   84 ‘ASEAN and Indo-­China: Malaysia – Malaysia hands over warships to Cambodia’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/97, February 1997, pp. 53–54.   85 ‘Naval forces update: The Cambodian Navy aims for bluer waters’.   86 ‘Naval forces update: The Cambodian Navy aims for bluer waters’.   87 ‘ASEAN and Indo-­China: Malaysia – Malaysia hands over warships to Cambodia’, p. 54.   88 Commodore Stephen Saunders, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2001–02, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2001, pp. 84–85.   89 Saunders, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2001–02, p. 84.   90 Micool Brooke, ‘Exclusive interview with Gen. Tea Banh, Minister for National Defence, Cambodia’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/98, June 1998, p. 13.   91 ‘ASEAN: Cambodia – Australia helps RCAF pen Defence White Paper’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/98, October 1998, p. 61.   92 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 40.   93 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 42.   94 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 42.   95 ‘Cambodia: Navy to reward its officers – six men upgraded in new exercise’, Business News Review, 20 January 1999. http://global.factiva.comezproxy.ouw. edu.au (29 December 2008).   96 ‘Navy: Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 26 July 2004, p.  1. www4.janes.com.htm (10 October 2005). Jane’s Defence Weekly also recorded a similar offer a few years earlier. Peter Sainsbury, ‘Asia-­Pacific, Cambodia coy about Iran deal’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 32, No. 1, p.  15, 7 July 1999.

Notes   233   97 ‘Procurement: Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 26 July 2004, p. 1. www4.janes.com.htm (10 October 2005).   98 Schofield, ‘Unlocking the seabed resources of the Gulf of Thailand’, p. 302.   99 ‘ASEAN and Indo-­China: ADJ news analysis – Thailand . . . troubles on the border’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/96, April 1996, p. 220. 100 ‘ASEAN: Cambodia – Hun Sen earns point in maritime dispute’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/98, June 1998, p. 43. 101 ‘Thai, Khmer navies agree on joint territorial patrol’, Bangkok Post, 15 July 1998. http://hartford-­hwp.com/archives/54/187.html (20 May 2006). 102 ‘Thai, Khmer navies agree on joint territorial patrol’. 103 Defending the Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, p. 31. 104 Defending the Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, p. 32. 105 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, p. 29. 106 ‘Cambodia ill-­equipped to guard against terror: Defense Ministry’, Cambodia Human Rights, taken from the Tehran Times, 30 November 2002. http://cambodia.ahrchk.net/mainfile.php/news200211/519/ (20 May 2006). 107 Defending the Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, pp. 23, 45 and 58. 108 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, p. 37. 109 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, p. 27. 110 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 291. 111 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2000, p. 21. 112 Strategic Review 2002, Royal Government of Cambodia, Phnom Penh, 2002, p. 14. www.mond.gov.kh/index/whitepapers.asp (6 January 2009). 113 Strategic Review 2002, p. 8. 114 ‘Procurement: Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 26 July 2004, p. 1. 115 Strategic Review 2002, pp. 4–6. 116 ‘Navy: Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 26 July 2004, p. 1. 117 ‘Navy: Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 26 July 2004, p. 1. 118 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 37. 119 Chandler, A History of Cambodia, p. 295. 120 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 37. 121 ‘China gives Navy patrol boats to Cambodia’, DefenseNews.com, 9 January 2005. http://defensenews.com/story.php?F=1072761&C=navwar (20 May 2006). 122 The Shanghai class boats are about 39 m long, have a top speed of 30 kn and a crew of 38. They are armed with a mix of 37 mm and 25 mm guns and can carry depth charges. They have been provided to several countries over a number of years. Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1997–98, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1997, p. 127. 123 ‘Navy: Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 27 October 2005. http://www4.janes.com.htm (2 March 2006). 124 Jane’s Fighting Ships, http: //www4.janes.com.htm (22 December 2008). 125 A Xinhua news release also noted that there was a landing craft included in the package. ‘Chinese ship-­building company delivers marine equipments to Cambodia’, Xinhua News Agency, 7 November 2007. http://proquest.umi. com.ezproxy.uow.edu.au (30 December 2008). 126 ‘Chinese ship-­building company delivers marine equipments to Cambodia’. 127 ‘Vietnam’s Navy presents patrol boats to Cambodia’, VietNamNet Bridge, 14 January 2006. http://english.vietnamnet.vn/politics/2006/01/532387/ (20 May 2006).

234   Notes 128 ‘Remarks by Ambassador Joseph Mussomeli at closing ceremony for Exercise FUSION CANOE 05–2 on 28 September 2005’. http://phnompenh.usembassy.gov/fusion_canoe.html (20 May 2006). 129 Zhenghe is a training ship attached to the Northern Sea Fleet. Commodore Stephen Saunders, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2002–03, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2002, p. 137. 130 ‘Chinese warship arrives in Cambodia on goodwill visit’, BBC Monitoring Asia Pacific, 7 November 2008. http://global.factiva.com.ezproxy.uow.edu.au (29 December 2008). 131 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 36. 132 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2006, pp. 12 and 39. 133 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2006, pp. 47–48. 134 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2006, pp. 49–50. 135 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 39. 136 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2006, pp. 50–51. 137 Defending The Kingdom of Cambodia 2006, p. 51. 138 ‘Cambodia beefs up maritime security against terrorists, cross-­border criminals’, Xinhua, 28 November 2007. http://global.factiva.com.ezproxy.uow.edu. au (29 December 2008). 139 ‘Asia-­Pacific: Cambodia – naval boost’, The Advertiser, 11 August 2007. http:// global.factiva.com.ezproxy.uow.edu.au (29 December 2008). 140 ‘Cambodia/Vietnam: Vietnamese, Cambodian navies on joint patrol’, Thai News Service, 1 December 2008. http://global.factiva.com.ezproxy.uow.edu.au (29 December 2008). 141 ‘Defence budget, Cambodia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 10 December 2008. http://www4.janes.com (30 December 2008). 142 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 34. 143 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 27. 144 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 30. 145 Curtis, Maritime Security Cambodia, p. 39. 5  The Indonesian Navy    1 See, for example, Commodore I. Gede Artjana (Deputy Assistant Chief of Naval Staff for Planning and Budgets) ‘The maritime priorities of Indonesia’, Ross Babbage and Sam Bateman, eds, Maritime Change: Issues for Asia, Allen and Unwin, St. Leonards, NSW, 1993, pp. 110–116.    2 David Jenkins, Suharto and his Generals 1975–1983, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY, 1984, p. 103.    3 Indonesian Navy Office of Naval History, Concise History of the Indonesian Navy, Jakarta, 1976, para 7.    4 Raymond Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1952–53, Samson Low, Marston, London, 1952, pp. 220–221.    5 ‘A Report on the Gadja Mada’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 8, No. 6, June 1953, p. 299.    6 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 6, No. 5, May 1951, p. 206.    7 Agreement of 14 October 1950, Central Archives, Ministry of Defence (Navy), The Hague, 1947–1985, No. 231087.    8 ‘Report on the Gadja Mada’, p. 298.    9 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 6, No. 4, April 1951.   10 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 9, September 1952, p. 378.   11 Sir James Cable letter to James Goldrick, dated 17 February 1992. See also Admiral R.D. Katari, A Sailor Remembers, Lancer, New Delhi, 1979.

Notes   235   12 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 9, p. 378.   13 ‘Report on Indonesia’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 10, No. 10, October 1955, p. 522.   14 Frederica M. Bunge, Indonesia: A Country Study, American University, Washington D.C., 1983, p. 227.   15 Erminio Bagnasco and Achille Rastelli, Le Construzione Navali Italiani per L’Estero: Centrotrenta Anni di Prestigiosa Presenza nel Mondo, Rivista Marittima, 1991, p. 83.   16 Michael Leifer, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, Royal Institute for International Affairs, George Allen and Unwin, London, 1983, pp. 60–61.   17 ‘Report on Indonesia’, p. 523.   18 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 14, No. 3, March 1959, p. 129. See also Admiralty Public Record Office File 116/5358.   19 Ganis Hursano, edited by C.L.M. Prenders and B. Hering, Recollections of an Indonesian Diplomat in the Sukarno Era, University of Queensland, St Lucia, 1977, p. 150.   20 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 13, No. 4, April 1958, p.  182. The 75 ships were: one light cruiser, six frigates, a coastal minelayer, six corvettes, eight submarine chasers, six coastal minesweepers, 25 small submarine chasers and 24 motor torpedo boats.   21 Discussions between James Goldrick and Mrs Frances McGuire, naval historian and wife of the Australian Minister in Italy (Paul McGuire, formerly a naval intelligence officer in the Second World War) in the late 1950s. Adelaide, 2 January 1991.   22 Leifer, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, p. 48.   23 Leifer, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, p. 143.   24 Sir James Cable, Gunboat Diplomacy 1919–1979: Political Applications of Limited Naval Force, Macmillan and IISS, London, 1981, 2nd edn, p. 234.   25 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1964–65, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1964, p. 128.   26 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 13, No. 11, November 1958, p. 509.   27 Leifer, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, p. 62.   28 ‘Sino-­Soviet military aide programs’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 14, No. 9, September 1959, p. 406.   29 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 15, No. 10, October 1960, p. 452.   30 Indroyono Soesilo Budiman, Kapal Selam Indonesia, Penerbit Buku Ilmiah Populer, Bogor, Indonesia, 2008, p. 155.   31 ‘The Indonesian Navy’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 17, No. 3, March 1962, p. 83.   32 Blackman, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1964–65, pp. 129–130.   33 ‘The Indonesian Navy’, p. 79.   34 Commodore H.J. Donohue, ‘The evolution of Australian strategic defense thinking’, Dora Alves, ed., Evolving Pacific Basin Strategies: The 1989 Pacific Symposium, National Defense University, Washington D.C., 1990, p. 286.   35 Leifer, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, pp. 63–65.   36 Adam Malik, In the Service of the Republic, Gunung Agung, Singapore, 1980, p. 240ff.   37 Indroyono Soesilo Budiman, Kapal Selam Indonesia, p. 205.   38 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 16, No. 8, August 1961, p. 370; Vol. 16, No. 9, September 1961, p.  403; Vol. 16, No. 11, November 1961, p. 485.   39 The Navy, Vol. 26, No. 5, November 1963, p. 326.

236   Notes   40 The Navy, Vol. 25, No. 8, January 1963, p. 36. See also, ‘Indonesia will receive a second cruiser’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, January 1963, p. 160.   41 ‘Indonesia’s armoury’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 1 November 1962, p. 284.   42 ‘The Soviet Navy visits Djakarta’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 15, No. 2, February 1960, p. 55ff.   43 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 16, No. 11, November 1961, p. 485.   44 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 18, No. 1, January 1963, p. 32.   45 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 17, No. 11, November 1962, p. 503.   46 The Navy, Vol. 26, No. 7, p. 348.   47 Eric J. Grove, Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War II, US Naval Institute, Annapolis, MD, 1987, p. 267.   48 Captain J.E. Moore, RN, letter to James Goldrick, dated 27 November 1991.   49 Harold Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY, rev. edn, 1988, pp. 72–73.   50 Moore, letter to James Goldrick, dated 27 November 1991.   51 See Michael Apps, Send Her Victorious, William Kimber, London, 1976, pp. 203–205 and Grove, Vanguard to Trident, p. 266.   52 Indroyono Soesilo Budiman, Kapal Selam Indonesia, p. 206.   53 Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, p. 85.   54 See Air Marshal Asghar Khan, The First Round: Indo-­Pakistan War 1965, Islamic Information Service, London, 1979, pp. 31–33. See also Pakistan Navy History Section, Story of the Pakistan Navy 1947–1972, Pakistan Naval Headquarters, Islamabad, 1991, pp. 227–230.   55 Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, p. 161.   56 Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, p. 175.   57 Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, p. 237.   58 Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, p. 239.   59 Donald K. Emmerson, ‘The military and development in Indonesia’, in J. Soedjati Djiwandono and Yong Mun Cheong, eds, Soldiers and Stability in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1988, p. 117.   60 Emmerson, ‘The military and development in Indonesia’, p. 239.   61 Dorodjatun Kuntoro-­Jakti and T.A.M. Simatupang, ‘Indonesia: Defence expenditures in the period of the New Order, 1967–85’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1987, p. 115.   62 Justus M. van der Kroef, Indonesia Since Sukarno, Asia Pacific Press, Singapore, 1971, pp. 121 and 123.   63 Jenkins, Suharto and His Generals 1975–1983, p. 147.   64 Jean Labayle Couhat, ed., translated by A.D. Baker III, Combat Fleets of the World 1980–81, US Naval Institute, Annapolis, 1980, p. 267.   65 Indonesian Navy Office of Naval History, Concise History of the Indonesian Navy, para. 17.   66 Leifer, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, p. 154.   67 Dorodjatun Kuntoro-­Jakti and Simatupang, ‘Indonesia: Defence expenditures in the period of the New Order, 1967–85’, p. 121.   68 Cable, Gunboat Diplomacy 1919–1979, p. 22.   69 Donald E. Weatherbee, ‘The United States and Indonesia’, Strategic Review, Vol. VIII, No. 4, Fall 1980, p. 59.   70 David Jenkins, ‘Launching a new navy’, Far Eastern Economic Review, Vol. 104, No. 14, 6 April 1979, p. 32.   71 Jenkins, ‘Launching a new navy’, p. 31.   72 Captain Joseph Morgan, USN (Ret), and Donald W. Fryer, ‘Enough navy for the job?’, US Naval Institute Proceedings, Vol. 110/3/973, March 1984, p. 112.

Notes   237   73 Harold W. Maynard, ‘The role of the Indonesian armed forces’, Edward E Olsen and Stephen Jurika, eds, The Armed Forces in Contemporary Asian Societies, Westview Press, Boulder, CO, 1986, p. 208.   74 Susumu Awanohara and Rodney Tasker, ‘Indonesia’s Golden Pond’, Far Eastern Economic Review, Vol. 119, No. 1, 6 January 1983, p. 12.   75 Susumu Awanohara and Tasker, ‘Indonesia’s Golden Pond’, p. 193.   76 Khalid Abdullah ‘[Indonesian] Nation’s Armed Forces Examined’, Asian Defense Journal, 5/1982, May 1982, p. 42.   77 Captain John E. Moore, ‘Indonesia’s Navy’, Defense and Foreign Affairs, February 1989, p. 38.   78 Weatherbee, The United States and Indonesia, p. 59.   79 A. Hasnan Habib, ‘Indonesia’s defence industry: Its role, mission, and set-­up’, Chandran Jeshurun, ed., Arms and Defence in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1989, p. 88.   80 R. Supartha, ‘Indonesia’s Navy: Balancing strategy and introspection’, International Defence Review, Vol. 3, 1991, p. 196.   81 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1992, p. 287.   82 ‘ASEAN: Six more frigates to beef up the Navy’, Asian Defense Journal, 3/1987, March 1987, p. 130.   83 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, p. 284.   84 Moore, ‘Indonesia’s Navy’, p. 40.   85 General Rudini (Chief of Staff of the Indonesian Army), cited in New Straits Times, 3 May 1983.   86 Staff Writer, ‘The Indonesian armed forces: At a crossroad?’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/89 June 1989, p. 26.   87 Sanjiv Prakash, ‘Suharto’s Indonesia: In the spirit of Garuda’, Defense and Foreign Affairs, February 1989, p. 12.   88 John Haseman, ‘Country features: Indonesia’s forces shift emphasis’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 026, No. 020, 13 November 1996, p. 2. http://search.janes. com (27 January 2009).   89 Sanjiv Prakash, ‘Suharto’s Indonesia’, p. 11.   90 G.C.V. Naidu, ‘The Indian Navy and Southeast Asia’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 13, No. 1, June 1991, p. 81.   91 This is evidenced by the convening in Indonesia of ‘workshops’ on the Spratlys, to which the various protagonists were invited.   92 Michael Leifer, ‘Indonesia waives the rule’, Far Eastern Economic Review, Vol. 143, No. 1, 5 January 1989, p. 17.   93 ‘Indonesian Navy goes through its paces for Passex’, Straits Times, 25 May 1990.   94 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, p. 282.   95 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, p. 283.   96 Indroyono Soesilo Budiman, Kapal Selam Indonesia, pp. 119–123.   97 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, p. 289.   98 ‘Kampfschiffe für Indonesien’, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 24 July 1992, p. 6. Translated for the authors by Dr Milan Vego.   99 Mark Lawson, ‘Indonesian Navy plans in disarray’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 027, No. 008, 1 August 1994. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 100 Discussion between Dr Norman Friedman and James Goldrick, 17 July 1992. 101 ‘India looks to Indonesia for support contracts’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 022, No. 006, 13 August 1994. http://search.janes.com (27 January 2009). 102 Mark Lawson, ‘Budget cut foils Indonesian naval upgrade’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 007, No. 006, 1 November 1994. http://search.janes.com (27 January 2009).

238   Notes 103 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed. Jane’s Fighting Ships 1996–97, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1996, p. 317. 104 David Foxwell and Helmoed-­Romer Heitman, ‘Upgrade Update, Submarine Modernisation’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 008, No. 007, 1 July 1995, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 105 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Indonesia to buy another Type-­209’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/96, November 1996, p. 57. 106 In the mid-­1990s, defence spending was about 1.4 per cent of GDP. Brian Cloughley, ‘Armed forces briefing: Indonesia fights domestic diversity’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 030, No. 009, 1 September 1997, p. 1. http:// search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 107 Tim Huxley, ‘Asia, Indonesia’s armed forces face up to new threats’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 009, No. 001, 1 January 1997, p. 2. http://search.janes. com (24 January 2009). 108 Peter Lewis Young, ‘Asia, mining the straits of Southeast Asia,’ Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 008, No. 002, 1 February 1996, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 109 Young, ‘Asia, mining the straits of Southeast Asia’, p. 4. 110 Brian Cloughley, ‘Feature: ASEAN at arms – a defence profile’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 028, No. 012, 1 December 1995, p. 3. http://search. janes.com (24 January 2009). 111 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1997–98, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1997, pp. 308–309. 112 Cloughley, ‘Feature: ASEAN at arms – a defence profile’, p. 2. 113 ‘Defending Indonesia, fifty years on’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/95, October 1995, p. 10. 114 John B. Haseman, ‘Asia: Indonesia’, Jane’s Intelligence Review – Pointer, Vol. 004, No. 010, 1 October 1997, p. 1. http://search.janes.com (27 January 2009). 115 Haseman, ‘Country features: Indonesia’s forces shift emphasis’, p. 2. 116 Cloughley, ‘Armed forces briefing: Indonesia fights domestic diversity’, p. 4. 117 ‘Special report: Maritime risks and threats in the Western Pacific’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 August 1995, p. 1. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 118 ‘Special report: Maritime risks and threats in the Western Pacific’, p. 4. 119 Jose Fernandez, ed., ‘ASEAN: Jakarta, Singapore reach landmark agreement’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/92, September 1992, p. 102. 120 Jose Fernandez, ‘ASEAN: KL, Singapore, Jakarta study surveillance system in Strait’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/93, April 1993, p. 80. 121 Huxley, ‘Asia: Indonesia’s armed forces face up to new threats’, p. 2. 122 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Missile carrying warships guard Natuna oil fields’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/96, November 1996, pp. 57–58. 123 Shalani Devi, ed., ‘Indonesia, Australia patrol Timor Gap’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/95, February 1995, p. 84. 124 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, Jane’s Information group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2005, p. 333. 125 Tim Huxley, ‘Indonesia’s security forces under reform’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 August 2000, p. 1. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 126 Huxley, ‘Indonesia’s security forces under reform’, p. 2. 127 Huxley, ‘Indonesia’s security forces under reform’, p. 3. 128 Some argue, however, that Widodo was part of Wiranto’s inner group, before switching loyalty to the President. Damien Kingsbury, ‘The reform of the Indonesian armed forces’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 22, No. 2, August 2000, p. 306. 129 Huxley, ‘Indonesia’s security forces under reform’, p. 6. 130 Huxley, ‘Indonesia’s security forces under reform’, p. 6.

Notes   239 131 John Haseman, ‘USA brings Indonesian Navy back into fold’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 16 August 2000. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 132 Robert Karniol and John Haseman, ‘Test of endurance’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 29 August 2001, p. 5. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 133 ‘Indonesia’, Jane’s Naval Construction and Retrofit Markets, 11 March 2008. http://search.janes.com (2 February 2009). 134 John B. Haseman, ‘Indonesia expands arms purchasing’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 December 2003. http://search.janes.com (27 January 2009). 135 Haseman, ‘Indonesia expands arms purchasing’. 136 Jon Grevatt and Tim Fish, ‘Indonesia set to swap aircraft for South Korean subs’, Jane’s Navy International, 7 July 2008. http://search.janes.com (27 January 2009). 137 ‘Submarine forces (Indonesia), Jane’s Underwater Warfare Systems, 23 November 2009. www.janes.com (10 March 2011). 138 ‘Submarine forces (Indonesia)’. 139 ‘Submarine forces’, Jane’s Underwater Warfare Systems, 23 November 2007. http://search.janes.com (3 February 2009). 140 ‘Indonesia defence upgrade a concern: experts’, Geoff Thompson, ‘AM’, ABC Radio, 5 September 2007. www.abc.net.au/am/content/2007/s2024427.htm. 141 Markus Junianto Sihaloho, ‘Indonesian Navy on board with pan to shelve submarine purchases till 2011’. http://thejakartaglobe.com/.../indonesian-­ navy-on...submarine.../333774 (5 October 2009). 142 ‘Daewoo wins Indonesian submarine deal’, United Press International, 23 December 2011. www.upi.com/Business (26 December 2011). 143 Robert Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Indonesia – interior designs’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 7 April 2004, pp. 4–5. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 144 The lead ship, Makassar, was delivered in August 2007. ‘Indonesian Navy’, Jane’s Naval Construction and Retrofit Markets, 20 March 2008, p.  3. http:// search.janes.com (24 January 2009). See also Robert Karniol, ‘Indonesia finalises additional LPD capability’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 12 January 2005. http:// search.janes.com (26 March 2009). 145 Karniol, ‘Country Briefing: Indonesia – interior designs’, pp. 4–5. 146 The first two Sigma class corvettes were delivered in July and November 2007. ‘Indonesian Navy’, Jane’s Naval Construction and Retrofit Markets, p. 1. 147 ‘Indonesian navy seeks modern patrol boats’, Singapore Institute for International Affairs, 15 February 2005. www.siiaonline.org (28 August 2010). 148 ‘Coast Guard, one option for marine security’, The Jakarta Post, 26 July 2006. www.bakorkamla.go.id (27 September 2010). 149 ‘Coast Guard, one option for marine security’. 150 ‘Revitalization of Indonesian maritime security coordination’, 9 February 2007. www.bakorkamla.go.id (27 September 2010). 151 ‘Revitalization of Indonesian maritime security coordination’. 152 ‘RI still underestimates marine potential’, The Jakarta Post, 26 February 2009. www.thejakartapost.com/print/201091 (27 September 2009). 153 ‘RI still underestimates marine potential’. 154 ‘RI still underestimates marine potential’. 155 ‘Govt criticized for being too soft in handling border incident’, Antara News, 23 August 2010. www.antaranews.com (27 September 2010). 156 ‘Govt criticized for being too soft in handling border incident’. 157 Erwida Maulia, ‘Hopes for a more “sea-­oriented” Indonesia’, The Jakarta Post, 16 September 2010. www.thejakartapost.com (27 September 2010). 158 Riefqi Muna, ‘Indonesia aims for “green water navy” capability’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 29 June 2005. http://search.janes.com (27 January 2009).

240   Notes 159 ‘ASEAN: Indonesia – new navy base in Irian Jaya’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/2000, July 2000, p. 51. 160 Riefqi Muna, ‘Indonesia aims for “green water navy” capability’. 161 ‘Indonesian Navy orders second series of Netherlands corvettes’, International Defence Review, 1 April 2006. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 162 Robert Karniol, ‘Indonesian Navy to undergo major restructure’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 20 September 2006. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 163 Robert Karniol, ‘Indonesia – Reforming Forces’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 15 November 2005, pp. 4–5. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 164 Karniol, ‘Indonesia – Reforming Forces’, p. 5. 165 Jon Grevatt, ‘Indonesia fits Chinese ASM but with an eye to the West’, Jane’s Navy International, 22 April 2008. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 166 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2010–2011, IHS Jane’s, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2010, p. 354. 167 Robert Karniol, ‘Indonesia – Reforming Forces’, p. 5. 168 Robert Karniol, ‘Indonesia reinforces marines’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 18 February 2004. http://search.janes.com (26 March 2009). 169 Jon Grevatt and Trefor Moss, ‘Indonesia calls halt to use of “ageing” military equipment’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 13 February 2008. http://search.janes.com (2 February 2009). 170 Jon Grevatt, ‘Indonesian Navy orders three additional transport aircraft’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 4 July 2008. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 171 Richard Scott, ‘Safeguarding the Singapore Straits’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 May 2002. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 172 Sam Bateman, ‘Naval balance in Southeast Asia – search for stability’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 May 2005, p. 2. http://www4.janes.com (30 December 2008). 173 ‘ASEAN: Indonesia, US Navy sea drills’, Asian Defence Journal, 7 and 8/2002, July and August 2002, p. 48. 174 Bateman, ‘Naval balance in Southeast Asia – search for stability’, p. 2. 175 Denise Hammick, ‘Turning the tide: Maritime security in Southeast Asia’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 28 November 2007, p.  1. http://search.janes.com (24 January 2009). 176 Hammick, ‘Turning the tide: Maritime security in Southeast Asia’, p. 3. 177 Jon Grevatt, ‘Indonesia boosts radar capability’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 6 February 2006. http://search.janes.com (3 February 2009). 178 ‘Indonesia and Malaysia spar over offshore oil concessions’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 June 2005, pp. 1–2. http://search.janes.com (20 January 2009). 179 ‘ASEAN: Malaysia denies provocation led to warship collision’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/2005, May 2005, p. 60. 180 Jane’s Country Risk Report, Vol. 12, No. 188, 22 September 2005. http://search. janes.com (24 January 2009). 6  The Royal Malaysian Navy    1 Guide to the International Royal Fleet Review, Penang 1990, Royal Malaysian Navy, 1990, p. 18.    2 ‘History of the Royal Malayan Navy’, Malaya in History, Vol. VII, No. 1, 1961, Malayan Historical Society, Kuala Lumpur, pp. 3–7.    3 ‘History of the Royal Malayan Navy’, p. 3.    4 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 4, No. 3, March 1949, p. 32.    5 Captain J.F.R. Weir, RN, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy’, United States Naval Institute Proceedings, No. 782, Vol. 94, No. 4, April 1968, p. 124.

Notes   241    6 Royal Malaysian Navy, Serving the Nation: Royal Malaysian Navy, Ministry of Defence, Kuala Lumpur, 2004, p. 16.    7 Lieutenant D.M. Paglar, RSN (Ret.), letter to James Goldrick, dated 3 August 1992.    8 Major R.V. Simon, RSN (Ret.), letter to James Goldrick, dated 27 July 1992.    9 Admiral Sir Alan Scott-­Moncrieff (C-­in-C Far East), letter to Admiral the Earl Mountbatten of Burma (First Sea Lord), dated 17 July 1956, Mountbatten Papers, Hartley Library, University of Southampton.   10 ‘The Royal Malayan Navy’, United States Office of Naval Intelligence ONI Review, Vol. 14, No. 12, December 1959, p. 538.   11 Rear Admiral W.A.G. Dovers RAN, letter to James Goldrick, dated 10 October 1992.   12 Tun Abdul Razak speaking in the Malaysian Parliament, 12 December 1964, in Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy: A Study in Parliamentary Attitudes 1963–1973, Penerbit Universiti Malaya, Kuala Lumpur, 1980, p. 114.   13 David Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore: From AMDA to ANZUK, RUSI, London, 1972, p. 23.   14 Dovers, letter dated 10 October 1992.   15 Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy, p. 118.   16 Admiral Sir Anthony Synnot, letter to James Goldrick, dated 11 September 1992.   17 The Navy, March 1964, p. 76.   18 Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy, p. 18.   19 The Navy, p. 380.   20 Simon, letter dated 6 June 1992.   21 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1970–71 Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1970, p. 220.   22 Commodore A.N. Dollard, RAN, letter to James Goldrick, dated 25 October 1992.   23 Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore, p. 61.   24 Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore, pp. 27 and 29.   25 Royal Malaysian Navy, Serving the Nation, pp. 24–25.   26 See Richard Stubbs, ‘Malaysian defence policy: Strategy versus structure’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 13, No. 1, June 1991, for a description of the overall priorities of Malaysian defence policy in this era.   27 J.N. Mak, ‘Malaysia’s naval and strategic priorities: Charting a new course’, Ross Babbage and Sam Bateman, eds, Maritime Change: Issues for Asia, Allen and Unwin, St. Leonards, NSW, 1993, p. 118.   28 Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy, p. 38.   29 Financial Times, London, 19 January 1970.   30 Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy, p. 40.   31 John Marriott, ‘Exercise Bersatu Padu: Long range reinforcement on trial’, International Defence Review, Vol. 3, No. 3, September 1970, pp. 289–290.   32 A.B.R.M. Nathan, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy: On the threshold of great changes’, Navy International, Vol. 85, No. 2, February 1980, p. 77.   33 H.M.F. Howarth, ‘The Malaysian Armed Forces’, International Defence Review, 9/83, September 1983, p. 1229.   34 Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy, pp. 95–97.   35 Nathan, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy’, p. 77.   36 Harold Crouch, ‘Time to consolidate on a new front line’, Far Eastern Economic Review, Vol. 122, No. 42, 20 October 1983, p. 49.   37 Muthiah Alagappa, ‘Malaysia: From the Commonwealth umbrella to self-­ reliance’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1987, p. 180.

242   Notes   38 Nathan, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy’, p. 76.   39 Nathan, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy’, p. 76.   40 Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy, p. xxiv, note 16.   41 J.N. Mak, The Indian Navy: Kuala Lumpur’s Friend or Foe?, paper prepared at Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, The Australian National University, 1992, publication details not known, p. 9.   42 David Jenkins, ‘Why the Navy has little room to move’, The Sydney Morning Herald, 6 July 1992, p. 15.   43 Muthiah Alagappa, ‘Malaysia: From the Commonwealth umbrella to self-­ reliance’, pp. 183–184.   44 Cited in Nathan, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy’, pp. 75–76.   45 Mak, ‘Malaysia’s naval and strategic priorities’, p. 119ff.   46 Prasan Sengupta, ‘The Malaysian Navy in transition’, Military Technology, 4/92, p. 70.   47 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1989, pp. 389–390.   48 Mak, ‘Malaysia’s Naval and Strategic Priorities’, p. 119ff.   49 Muthiah Alagappa, ‘Malaysia: From the Commonwealth umbrella to self-­ reliance’, p. 186.   50 Royal Malaysian Navy, Serving the Nation, pp. 190–191.   51 ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy: Gearing up for the 1990s’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/86, August 1986, p. 7.   52 Prasan Sengupta, ‘The Malaysian Navy in transition’, p. 77.   53 ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy: Gearing up for the 1990s’, p. 6.   54 J. N. Mak, citing 11 April 1990 interview with Admiral Wahab, in ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy in a changing maritime world: The challenges ahead’, Naval Forces, Vol. XI, No. III, 1990, p. 73.   55 Shuhud Saaid, ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy: Towards a credible and balanced force, Part II’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/86, January 1986, p. 6.   56 ‘A matter for contention: The Spratly Islands’, Military Technology 4/92, April 1992, p. 75.   57 Richard Stubbs, ‘Subregional security co-­operation in ASEAN: Miltary and economic imperatives and political obstacles’, Asian Survey, Vol. XXXII, No. 5, May 1992, p. 400.   58 You Ji and You Xu, ‘In search of blue water power: The PLA-­Navy’s maritime strategy in the 1990s’, The Pacific Review, Vol. 4, No. 2, 1991, pp. 137–138.   59 Ji Guoxing, ‘China’s modernisation and security policy’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/88, October 1988, p. 56.   60 ‘A matter for contention: The Spratly Islands’, p. 75.   61 Mak, The Indian Navy: Kuala Lumpur’s Friend or Foe?, p. 9.   62 Admiral Dato Abdul Wahab bin Haji Nawi (Chief of the Royal Malaysian Navy), cited in Jane’s Defence Weekly, 6 August 1988, p. 201.   63 An RMN planner, cited in ‘The Royal Malaysian Navy: Gearing up for the 1990s’, p. 10.   64 ‘The Week: UK rounds up arms deal with Malaysia’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 8 October 1988, p. 845.   65 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 22 July 1989, p. 105.   66 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 29 July 1989, p. 159.   67 To give an example of costings, the Swedish project for one operational boat, an alongside trainer and six new boats by the end of the century was estimated at £1.7 billion sterling (US$3.3 billion). Even with preferential credit terms over ten years delaying the third to fifth boats to the Seventh Plan (1996–2000), this would require at least $500 million in the 1991–1996 period alone. See NAVINT, 18 January 1991, p. 3.

Notes   243   68 ‘ASEAN: Navy to acquire new equipment’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/89, August 1989, p. 98.   69 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 7 October 1989, p. 681.   70 Naval Forces, IV/90, p. 86.   71 Michael Richardson, ‘Interview with the Malaysian Defence Minister Dato Sri Mohamed Najib bin Tun Haji Abdul Razak’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XVIII, No. 2, August 1991, p. 19.   72 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 6 July 1991, p. 7.   73 Prasan Sengupta, ‘The Malaysian Navy in transition’, p. 71.   74 ‘Signals, Malaysia invites RMN PV bids’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 100, No. 001, 1 January 1995. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   75 ‘Australia to part-­fund Malaysian boat design’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 021, No. 014, 9 April 1994. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   76 David Foxwell, ‘Fleet review, downturn ties up RMN ambitions’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 103, No. 003, 1 April 1998. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009).   77 Richard Scott, ‘Contract news, six line up to bid for RMN patrol vessel’, Jane’s Defence Contracts, 1 May 1996, http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   78 Steve Ryan, ‘Malaysia’s new generation patrol vessel’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/95, August 1995, p. 13.   79 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Asia Pacific, Malaysia to consider re-­engining of Rahmat’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 027, No. 021, 28 May 1997. http://search.janes.com (28 October 2009).   80 ‘Signals, Malaysia-­German partner selected for RMN patrol vessel’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 102, No. 009, 1 November 1997. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   81 ‘Interview with Malaysia’s Defence Minister, Dato Syed Hamid Albar’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/95, August 1995, p. 26.   82 Kathryn Shaw and Richard Scott, ‘MEKO makes its mark in Malaysia’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 December 2001. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009).   83 Haji Syed Hussain, ‘An exclusive interview with Malaysia’s Defence Secretary General,’ Asian Defence Journal, 8/92, August 1992, p. 10. The Secretary General, in August 1992, indicated that Lumut Dockyard would be capable of the build, but needed upgraded facilities.   84 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘Malaysia’s force modernisation plans back on stream’, Asian Defence Journal, 12/99, December 1999, p. 16.   85 Rüdiger Moniac, ‘Malaysia’s OPV gets green light’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 22 November 2000, http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   86 Anthony Preston, ‘Asia-­Pacific Navies to the end of the decade’, in Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 63.   87 ‘Frigate launch heralds Malaysian fleet expansion’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 002, No. 001, 1 January 1995. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   88 ‘Signals, Malaysia mulls claim for Yarrow frigate delay’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 102, No. 004, 1 May 1997. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   89 Richard Scott, ‘Signals, Malaysian frigate 2000 in home waters’, in Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 104, No. 10, 1 December 1999. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   90 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Asia Pacific, Malaysia grants frigates new lease of combat life’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 028, No. 009, 3 September 1997. http://search.janes. com (27 October 2009).   91 ‘Asia Pacific: In brief – last two corvettes delivered to Malaysia’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 032, No. 006, 11 August 1999. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).

244   Notes   92 Steve Ryan, ‘Targets of opportunity: Upgrades likely for new Malaysian frigates,’ Asian Defence Journal, 8/95, August 1995, p. 66.   93 ‘Amphibious lift for Malaysian ships’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 November 1994. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   94 Aidah Husin, ed., ‘RMAF to take delivery of four Beechcraft B 200T’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/94, May 1994, p. 98.   95 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘Malaysia’s force modernisation plans back on stream’, p. 14.   96 ‘Shipborne aircraft, Malaysia’, Jane’s Fighting Ships, 6 January 2009. http:// search.janes.com (20 November 2009).   97 ‘Malaysia modernisation, Navy modernisation gathers momentum’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 028, No. 021, 26 November 1997. http://search.janes.com (26 October 2009).   98 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Submarine markets, regional submarine programme stalled’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 029, No. 007, 18 February 1998. http:// search.janes.com (27 October 2009).   99 David Foxwell, ‘Fleet review, downturn ties up RMN ambitions’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 103, No. 003, 1 April 1998. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 100 Sam Bateman, ‘Feature, sea change in Asia-­Pacific’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 101, No. 008, 1 October 1996, p. 24. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 101 Foxwell, ‘Fleet Review, Downturn Ties up RMN Ambitions’, p. 40. 102 Romeo Reyes, ‘ASEAN: Joint Commission between KL, Manila established’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/93, August 1993, p. 94. 103 Romeo Reyes, ‘Brunei, Malaysia strengthening future ties’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/93, September 1993, p. 32. 104 Trevor Hollingsbee, ‘News in brief, Spratlys rivalry as Philippines faces Malaysia’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 11, No. 12, 1 December 1999. http://search. janes.com (27 October 2009). The Philippines also protested activity by both Vietnam and China at about the same time. 105 Foxwell, ‘Fleet review, downturn ties up RMN ambitions’. 106 Sam Bateman, ‘Features, ASEANs tiger navies’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 102, No. 003, 1 April 1997. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 107 ‘WW2 battery to re-­enter service’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 020, No. 107, 23 October 1993. http://search.janes.com (28 October 2009). 108 Jose Fernandez, ‘ASEAN: Indons agree to maritime task force’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 155. 109 Aidah Husin, ‘ASEAN: Jakarta – KL to beef up patrols in Straits of Malacca’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/94, September 1994, p. 86. 110 ‘ASEAN: Malaysia rejects Japanese offer of joint anti-­piracy patrols’, Asian Defence Journal, 12/2000, December 2000, p. 50. 111 This included exercises such as STARDEX 99, a 12-day maritime and air exercise hosted by Malaysia in August/September 1999. ‘ASEAN: Exercise STARDEX 99’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/99, September 1999, p. 70. 112 Foxwell, ‘Fleet review, downturn ties up RMN ambitions’. 113 Romeo Reyes, ed., ‘Malaysia and Singapore begin a 9-day Joint Navy Exercise’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/93, September 1993, p. 35. 114 Shalani Devi, ‘Two Navy ships for UN Duty’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/95, February 1995, p. 86. 115 Kwa Chong Guan, ‘ASEAN’s next challenge: Preventing incidents at sea’, RSIS Commentaries, 30 June 2009, p. 2. 116 ‘ASEAN: Bilateral ties between Malaysian and Chinese Navies crucial’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/2000, August 2000, p. 53.

Notes   245 117 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘Royal Malaysian Navy at 66’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/2000, May 2000, p. 18. 118 Shalani Devi, ‘ASEAN: Upgrading the RMN’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/95, June 1995, p. 68. 119 Jose Fernandez, ‘RMN to close Woodlands Naval Base’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 158. 120 Edmond Dantes, ‘RMN: Upgrading of a coastal force’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/93, June 1993, p. 32. 121 Robert Karniol, ‘AsiaPacific, Malaysians boost naval power in the South China Sea’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 026, No. 015, 9 October 1996. http://search. janes.com (28 October 2009). 122 Robert Karniol, ‘Malaysian Navy plans new base’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 17 May 2000. http://search.janes.com (28 October 2009). 123 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘Royal Malaysian Navy at 66’, p. 19. 124 Michael Nitz, ‘First Malaysian patrol vessel shipped’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 9 April 2003, and Richard Scott, ‘Second RMN patrol vessel enroute’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 November 2003. http://search.janes.com (28 October 2009). 125 Robert Karniol, ‘Country Briefing: Malaysia – the big push’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 30 November 2005. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 126 This firm is apparently 70 per cent owned by the Armed Forces Provident Fund. Jon Grevatt, ‘BN Shipyard aims to complete Malaysian Kedah class’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 December 2006. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 127 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Malaysia’s OPV programme hangs in the balance’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 9 August 2006. http://search.janes.com (28 October 2009). 128 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Training the tiger: Malaysian industry tries to balance domestic and overseas ambitions’, International Defence Review, 1 December 2007. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 129 Dzirhan Mahadzir, Alex Pape and Craig Caffrey, ‘Facing the future: Malaysian armed forces’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 7 April 2008. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 130 Jon Grevatt, ‘Malaysia approves construction of second batch of OPVs’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 25 November 2008. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 131 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Boustead seeks orders following launch of Kedah-­class corvette’, Jane’s Navy International, 4 August 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 132 Richard Scott, ‘Malaysia seeks frigate purchase’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 26 July 2006. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 133 Jon Grevatt and Richard Scott, ‘LSE seeks larger share of Jebat-­class frigate build’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 18 July 2007. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 134 David Robertson, ‘BAE Systems secures £1.75bn of deals’, Times Online, 11 August 2009. http://business.timesonline.co.uk (4 December 2009). 135 Isaak Zulkarnen, ‘ASEAN: Malaysia to buy US landing ship tank (LST)’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/94, November 1994, pp. 94–95. 136 Jon Grevatt, ‘Malaysia considers South Korean LPH ship buy’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 April 2007. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 137 Jon Grevatt, ‘Malaysia plans support ships acquisition project’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 January 2008. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 138 ‘Procurement Malaysia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 11 September 2009, p. 10. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 139 ‘Procurement Malaysia’, p. 11.

246   Notes 140 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Fire destroys Malaysian landing ship’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 12 October 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 141 Jon Grevatt, ‘Malaysian Navy closes in on ASW helicopter procurement’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 15 April 2008. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 142 Menno Steketee and Richard Scott, ‘Malaysia to lease submarines from the Netherlands’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 18 October 2000. http://search.janes.com (28 October 2009). 143 Richard Scott, ‘Three-­way bid for Malaysian submarine deal’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 16 May 2001. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 144 J.A.C. Lewis, ‘France confirms Malaysian submarine contract’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 24 April 2002. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 145 Katy Glassborow, ‘Malaysian submariners complete training’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 January 2006. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 146 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Malaysia seeks support for sub development’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 4 October 2006. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 147 Denise Hammick, ‘Second Malaysian Scorpene poised for trials stage’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 10 October 2008. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 148 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Rookie submariners near milestone for Malaysian Navy’, Jane’s Navy International, 20 January 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 149 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Malaysia faces two-­month wait for first submarine homecoming’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 July 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 150 ‘Defect found on Royal Malaysian Navy sub’, Malay Mail, 10 February 2010, www.mmail.co.my. 151 ‘Indonesia and Malaysia spar over offshore oil concessions’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 June 2005. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 152 ‘Indonesia and Malaysia spar over offshore oil concessions’. 153 ‘Security, Malaysia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 5 October 2009, p. 5. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 154 ‘Singapore gets Pedra Branca: What’s next?’, The Jakarta Post, 24 June 2008. www.thejakartapost.com/news/2008/06/24/singapore-­gets-pedra-­brancawhat039s-next.html (4 January 2010). 155 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘US delivers maritime radars to Malaysian armed forces’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 23 February 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 156 Michael Thell, ‘Malaysian navy hits out at piracy assessment’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 September 2006. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 157 Denise Hammick, ‘Turning the tide: Maritime security in Southeast Asia’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 28 November 2007. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 158 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Somali piracy attacks prompt Malaysian naval intervention’, Jane’s Navy International, 9 September 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 159 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Malaysia co-­opts container ship for anti-­piracy role’, Jane’s Navy International, 3 June 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 160 ‘World navies, Malaysia,’ Jane’s World Navies, 11 September 2009, p. 4. http:// search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 161 ‘royal-­malaysian-navy-­plans-to-­add-ship’. http://defense-­studies.blogspot.com/ 2011/04 929, April 2011 (14 February 2012). 162 ‘Amphibious and special forces, Malaysia: Sea Lift’, Jane’s Amphibious and Special Forces, 9 December 2008. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 163 ‘Amphibious and special forces, Malaysia: Sea Lift’.

Notes   247 164 Sam Bateman, ‘Naval balance in Southeast Asia: Search for stability’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 May 2005. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 165 ‘Top brass interview with Datuk Abu Talib Harun, Director-­general MMEA’, Asian Defence Journal, 12/2005, December 2005, p. 16. 166 ‘Navy, Malaysia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment, 14 July 2009. http://search. janes.com (9 October 2009). 167 Robert Karniol and Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Country Briefing: Malaysia – the big push’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 30 November 2005. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 168 ‘Turning the tide: Maritime security in Southeast Asia’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 28 November 2007. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 169 ‘Coast guard (Maritime Enforcement Agency), Malaysia’, Jane’s Fighting Ships, 7 August 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 170 ‘Turning the tide: Maritime security in Southeast Asia’. 171 Karniol and Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Country Briefing: Malaysia – the big push’. 172 Karniol and Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Country Briefing: Malaysia – the big push’. 173 Alex Pape and Craig Caffrey, ‘Facing the future: Malaysian armed forces’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 7 April 2008. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 174 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Malaysia approves supplementary funding bill’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 27 March 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 175 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘Malaysia’s first submarine completes 54-day delivery voyage’, Jane’s Navy International, 7 September 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 176 Jon Grevatt, ‘Companies prepare to sign Malaysian submarine-­base deal’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 September 2007. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 177 ‘Navy, Malaysia’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 14 July 2009. http://search.janes.com (9 October 2009). 178 Jon Grevatt, ‘Malaysia’s BHIC poised for $170m Scorpene deal’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 5 June 2009. http://search.janes.com (27 October 2009). 179 ‘Lima to benefit BHIC, says AmResearch’, The Edge, 19 November 2009. www. theedgemalaysia.com/mobile/article.php?id=153994 (4 January 2010). 180 Dzirhan Mahadzir, ‘BNS to build Malaysian patrol ships’, Jane’s Navy International, January/February 2012, p. 5. 7  The Republic of the Philippines Navy    1 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1992, pp. 445–448.    2 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 2, No. 6, June 1947, p. 45.    3 W. Dino Viray, ‘The Philippine Navy’, United States Naval Institute Proceedings, No. 669, November 1958, p. 94.    4 U.S. Treaties and Other International Agreements, Vol. 3, Part 3, No. 2529, US Government, Washington, D.C. See Article IV of the Treaty.    5 See B.J. Kerkvliet, The Huk Rebellion: A Study of Peasant Revolt in the Philippines, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1977.    6 Viray, ‘The Philippine Navy’, p. 94.    7 Frederica M. Bunge, ed., Philippines: A Country Study, US Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 1984, p. 262.    8 Viray, ‘The Philippine Navy’, p. 94.    9 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 6, No. 12, December 1951, p. 528.   10 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 7, July 1952, p. 301.

248   Notes   11 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 5, No. 9, September 1950, p. 372.   12 The PN’s LSTs did, however, ferry Philippine troops to and from Korea. Regino ‘Dodds’ Giagonia, The Philippine Navy (1896–1996), The Philippine Navy, Manila, 1996, p. 249.   13 Roger M. Smith, Two Papers on Philippine Foreign Policy, Data Paper No. 38, Southeast Asia Program, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, 1959, p. 18.   14 Richard J. Kessler, ‘Development and the military: Role of the Philippine military in development’, J. Soedjati Djiwando and Yong Mun Cheong, eds, Soldiers and Stability in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1988, p. 216.   15 Viray, ‘The Philippine Navy’, p. 61. The average seems to have been two major exercises each year, one with SEATO and one with the USN.   16 ‘Foreign Navies in 1956’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 12, No. 3, March 1957, p. 92.   17 Giagonia, The Philippine Navy (1896–1996), p. 260.   18 Captain F.A. Nusom, USN (Former Naval Attache in Manila), ‘A report from the Philippines’, US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 13, No. 2, February 1958, p. 65.   19 US Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 13, No. 8, August 1958, p. 371.   20 Robert Gardiner, ed., Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1947–1982, Conway Maritime Press, London, 1983, p.  355. Sources conflicted as to whether the sinking occurred in 1962 or 1964. Raymond Blackman, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1966–67, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1966, p. 212, said June 1964, but the 1972–73 edition corrected this to June 1962 (p. 259).   21 Gardiner, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1947–1982, p. 355.   22 Derek W. Bowett, The Legal Regime of Islands in International Law, Oceana Publications, New York, NY, 1979, p. 95.   23 Bunge, Philippines: A Country Study, p. 222.   24 Robert Karniol, ‘This week, Spratlys tension helps push forces upgrade’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 023, No. 008, 25 February 1995. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   25 Ian Storey, ‘Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 011, No. 008, 1 August 1999. http://search.janes.com (11 November 2009).   26 D.P. O’Connell, The International Law of the Sea, Vol. I., edited by I.A. Shearer, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1982, p. 248.   27 M.O. Ariff, The Philippines’ Claim to Sabah: Its Historical, Legal and Political Implications, Oxford University Press, Singapore, 1970, p. 2.   28 O’Connell, The International Law of the Sea, Vol. I., p. 248.   29 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1970–71, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1970, p. 256.   30 Bunge, Philippines: A Country Study, p. 254.   31 Bunge, Philippines: A Country Study, p. 76.   32 Felipe B. Miranda and Ruben F. Ciron, ‘The Philippines: Defence expenditures, threat perceptions and the role of the United States’, Chin Kin Wah (ed.) Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1987, p. 251.   33 John McBeth, ‘A fighting chance’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 19 July 1990, p. 20.   34 See Captain John Moore, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1977–78, Jane’s, London, 1977 and subsequent editions.   35 Bunge, Philippines: A Country Study, pp. 252–253.   36 Bunge, Philippines: A Country Study, p. 224.

Notes   249   37 Captain John Moore, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1983–84, Jane’s Publishing, London, 1983, pp. 379–381.   38 Carolina G. Hernandez, ‘Arms procurement and production policies in the Philippines’, Chandran Jeshurun, ed., Arms and Defence in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1989, p. 138.   39 Announcements of these plans were made in June 1983. See Jean Labayle Couhat, ed., Combat Fleets of the World 1984–85, translated by A.D. Baker III, US Naval Institute, Annapolis, 1984, p. 344.   40 Michael Richardson, ‘Reforms in the armed forces of the Philippines; but will they work?’, Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XI, No. 9, March 1985, p. 35.   41 Dr. Larry A. Nicksch, ‘The armed forces of the Asia-­Pacific region. No. 8: The Philippines: Uncertainties after the Aquino assassination’, Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. X, No. 8, February 1984, p. 30.   42 Richardson, ‘Reforms in the Armed Forces of the Philippines’, pp. 35–37.   43 Philippines Navy Official, Philippine Navy: 94th Anniversary, June 1992, p. 32.   44 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, Jane’s, London, 1991, p. 446.   45 Rear Admiral Mariano J. Dumancas, Jr, ‘The maritime priorities of the Philippines’, Ross Babbage and Sam Bateman, eds, Maritime Change: Issues for Asia, Allen and Unwin, St. Leonards, NSW, 1993, p. 138.   46 ‘News: New life for Phillipines [sic] Navy’, Military Technology, 10/90, November 1990, p. 184.   47 Philippines Navy Official, Philippine Navy: 94th Anniversary, pp. 9–11.   48 ‘War exercise bares Navy’s vulnerability’, Mabuhay, 17–23 June 1992, p. 5.   49 ‘World navies: Philippines’, Jane’s World Navies, 12 October 2009. http:// search.janes.com (11 November 2009).   50 Edmond Dantes, ‘Naval build-­up to continue. Part II’, Asian Defence Journal 5/92, May 1992, p. 54.   51 Dumancas, ‘The maritime priorities of the Philippines’, p. 139.   52 ‘At least 17 “antiques” to be sold as scrap’, Mabuhay, 17–23 June 1992, p. 5.   53 Karniol, ‘This week, Spratlys tension helps push forces upgrade’.   54 Charles van der Donct, The Changing Naval Environment in Southeast Asia, Extra-­Mural Paper No. 56, Operational Research and Analysis Establishment, Department of National Defence, Ottawa, Canada, 1991, p. 17.   55 Karniol, ‘This week, Spratlys tension helps push forces upgrade’.   56 ‘International defence digest: Naval confrontation in Spratly Islands’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 028, No. 007, 1 July 1995. http://search.janes. com (15 December 2009).   57 Peter Lewis Young, ‘The potential for conflict in the South China Sea’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/95, November 1995, p. 22.   58 Tammy Arbuckle, ‘Strategic and security issues: Scourge of piracy returns to Southeast Asia’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 029, No. 008, 1 August 1996. http://search.janes.com (4 December 2009).   59 Arbuckle, ‘Strategic and security issues: Scourge of piracy returns to Southeast Asia’.   60 Arbuckle, ‘Strategic and security issues: Scourge of piracy returns to Southeast Asia’.   61 Dumancas, ‘The maritime priorities of the Philippines’, p. 139.   62 Robert Karniol, ‘Flying out of the Philippine clouds,’ Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 019, No. 009, 27 February 1993. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   63 Karniol, ‘This week, Spratlys tension helps push forces upgrade’.   64 Shalani Devi, ed., ‘ASEAN: Philippines to upgrade military’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/95, April 1995, pp. 79–80. President Ramos disputed this being the

250   Notes reason for passing of the bill, noting that it simply put in place the means by which a suitable level of defence preparedness could be achieved.   65 Romeo Reyes, ed. ‘ASEAN: Philippine Navy to build new base in Cebu’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/93, August 1993, p. 93.   66 Robert Karniol, ‘Naval forces update: Philippine Navy lines up for 1996 changes’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 024, No. 010, 9 September 1995. http:// search.janes.com (11 November 2009).   67 Karniol, ‘Naval forces update: Philippine Navy lines up for 1996 changes’.   68 Tim Huxley, ‘Rearming the Philippine armed forces’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/96, August 1996, p. 9.   69 Captain Richard Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2000–2001, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, 2000, p. 517.   70 Robert Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific: Philippine Navy takes ex-­UK patrol vessels’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 028, No. 007, 20 August 1997. http://search.janes. com (22 December 2009).   71 ‘Missiles for Philippine patrol boats’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/95, August 1995, p. 66.   72 ‘Philippines, South Korea sign accord’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 021, No. 024, 18 June 1994. http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009).   73 ‘Asia Pacific: US-­Philippines exercise’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 025, No. 019, 8 May 1996. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   74 Ian Storey, ‘Asia: Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 011, No. 008, 1 August 1999. http://search.janes.com (11 November 2009).   75 Storey, ‘Asia: Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’.   76 ‘Asia Pacific: Slump hits Philippine defence,’ Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 029, No. 004, 28 January 1998. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   77 ‘Asia Pacific: Philippine force cuts’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 027, No. 006, 12 February 1997. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   78 Storey, ‘Asia: Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’.   79 Storey, ‘Asia: Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’.   80 ‘Philippines: Military intelligence’, Jane’s Intelligence Watch Report: Daily Update, Vol. 5, No. 072, 16 April 1998. http://search.janes.com (4 December 2009).   81 J.N. Mak, Sovereignty in ASEAN and the Problem of Maritime Cooperation in the South China Sea, S. Rajanatnam School of International Studies, Singapore, 23 April 2008, p. 6.   82 Storey, ‘Asia: Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’.   83 ‘Asia Pacific: In brief – Philippines sink Chinese fishing boat’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 032, No. 004, 28 July 1999. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   84 ‘Asia Pacific: In brief – Philippines sink Chinese fishing boat’.   85 Trevor Hollingsbee, ‘News in brief: China moves in on Mischief Reef ’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 011, No. 001, 1 January 1999. http://search.janes. com (22 December 2009).   86 Sources are confused on the actual events, but a photograph of the grounded Sierra Madre can be accessed at www.timawa.net/forum or through Google Images.   87 Storey, ‘Asia: Manila looks to USA for help over Spratlys’.   88 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘AFP: Force modernisation aims and plans’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/99, June 1999, p. 18.   89 ‘ASEAN: The Philippines – frigates from the US’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/99, July 1999, p. 62.

Notes   251   90 Robert Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific: Philippine Navy to lose Coast Guard element’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 029, No. 016, 22 April 1998. http://search.janes.com (11 November 2009).   91 E.M. Frost, ‘Philippines seeks more military aid from USA’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 17 June 2000, http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   92 Jose Fernandez, ed., ‘ASEAN: Aquino decries sharp cuts in US military aid’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/92, March 1992, p. 86. From 1991 to 1992 US military aid to the Philippines dropped from US$200 million to US$4 million per year.   93 Robert Karniol, ‘Modernisation muddle’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 16 August 2000. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009).   94 Karniol, ‘Modernisation muddle’.   95 ‘Philippine contract encourages Tenix in Australia bid’, Jane’s Navy International, 13 December 2001, http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009).   96 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2005, p. 567.   97 ‘Tension rising in the South China Sea’, Jane’s Intelligence Digest, 21 February 2001. http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009).   98 Barry Wain, ‘Manila’s bungle in the South China Sea’, Far Eastern Economic Review, Jan/Feb 2008, p. 45.   99 Robert Karniol, ‘Philippines seeks additional defence funding’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 5 September 2001. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 100 David C. Isby, ‘Philippines: Emergency upgrade funding sought’, Jane’s International Defence Review, 16 April 2003. http://search.janes.com (10 December 2009). 101 ‘ASEAN: New exercise formally engaged’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/2002, June 2002, p. 50. 102 ‘ASEAN: Philippines, US naval action’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/2002, September 2002, p. 46. 103 Damian Kemp, ‘US and Philippines join for “Talon Vision” ’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 February 2004. http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009). 104 Anthony Davis, ‘US outlines package to bolster Philippine forces’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 28 May 2003. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 105 Raymond Quilop, ‘Australia teams with Philippines for exercise ‘LUMBAS’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 December 2006. 106 ‘Southeast Asian countries launch anti-­terrorism exercises’, Jane’s Terrorism Watch Report: Daily Update, 21 August 2008. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 107 Raymund Quilop, ‘Philippines proposes increased defence budget’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 17 September 2003. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 108 Raymund Quilop, ‘Modernization of Philippine armed forces progresses’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 24 March 2004. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 109 Richard Scott, ‘QinetiQ to lead Philippine patrol craft upgrade’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 February 2004. http://search.janes.com (10 December 2009). 110 Robert Karniol, ‘Philippines: Jacinto upgrade approved’, Jane’s International Defence Review, 16 October 2002. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 111 Karniol, ‘Philippines: Jacinto upgrade approved’. 112 Rohan Gunaratna, ‘The evolution and tactics of the Abu Sayyaf Group’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 July 2001. http://search.janes.com (7 December 2009). 113 Anthony Davis, ‘Resilient Abu Sayyaf resists military pressure’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 12 August 2003. http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009).

252   Notes 114 Raymund Jose G. Quilop, ‘Philippine Navy organises counter-­terrorist task force’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 25 October 2004. http://search.janes.com (4 December 2009). 115 Jaser A. Marasegan, ‘DOT allays fears of tourists and resort owners’, 28 October 2004. www.travelsmart.net/article/105593 (26 January 2010). 116 Raymond Quilop, ‘Philippine Navy starts counter-­terror training’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 26 January 2005. http://search.janes.com (11 November 2009). 117 ‘World Navies: Philippines’, Jane’s World Navies, 12 October 2009. http:// search.janes.com (11 November 2009). 118 Edmund Dantes, ‘Naval build-­up to continue unabated. Part II’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/92, May 1992, p. 54. 119 Edmund Dantes, ‘Naval build-­up to continue unabated. Part II’, p. 54. 120 Raymund J. Quilop, ‘Philippine budget remains static’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 15 September 2004. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 121 Robert Karniol, ‘Back to basics: The Philippines – internal security concerns’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 19 January 2005. http://search.janes.com (4 December 2009). 122 Guy Anderson, ‘Philippines approves funds for military modernization’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 February 2006. http://search.janes.com (10 December 2009). 123 Anderson, ‘Philippines approves funds for military modernization’. 124 Anderson, ‘Philippines approves funds for military modernization’. 125 See the relevant thread and 2011 photograph on the www.timawa.net site. (22 January 2012). 126 Saunders, Jane’s Fighting Ships 2005–06, p. 565. 127 Karniol, ‘Back to basics: The Philippines – internal security concerns’. 128 The agreement was subsequently expanded to include Vietnam and was signed in March 2005. Wain, ‘Manila’s bungle in the South China Sea’, p. 48. 129 Tessa Jamandre, ‘Baseline law signed: China protests’, 11 March 2009. http:// verafiles.org/baseline-­law-signed-­china-protests (27 January 2010). 130 Jamandre, ‘Baseline law signed: China protests’. 131 Jon Grevatt, ‘Philippines’ military set for funding boost’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 23 January 2008. http://search.janes.com (22 December 2009). 132 Jon Grevatt, ‘Philippines pushes ahead with military modernization’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 24 December 2008. http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009). 133 Jon Grevatt, ‘Philippines approves 13% defence budget rise’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 10 November 2009. http://search.janes.com (15 December 2009). 134 Mak, Sovereignty in ASEAN and the Problem of Maritime Cooperation in the South China Sea, p. 2. 135 Alexis Romero, ‘Navy to commission 1st Hamilton-­class ship on 14 December’, 1 December 2011. www.PhilSTAR.com (2 January 2012). 136 Alexis Romero, ‘US formally offers 2nd ship to AFP’, The Philippine Star, 20 February 2012. www.philstar.com (3 March 2012). 137 ‘World navies: Philippines’. 138 ‘World navies: Philippines’. 139 Alexis Romero, ‘Submarine for Navy’, The Philippine Star, 24 August 2011. www.philstar.com (22 January 2012). 8  The Republic of Singapore Navy    1 Guide to the International Royal Fleet Review, Penang 1990, Royal Malaysian Navy, 1990, p. 18.    2 ‘History of the Royal Malayan Navy’, Malaya in History, Vol. VII, No. 1, 1961, Malayan Historical Society, Kuala Lumpur, p. 3.

Notes   253    3 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 4, No. 3, March 1949, p. 32.    4 Lieutenant D.M. Paglar, RSN (Rtd), letter to James Goldrick, dated 24 June 1992.    5 Paglar letter, dated 3 August 1992.    6 Major R.V. Simon, RSN (Rtd), letter to James Goldrick, dated 27 July 1992.    7 Major R.V. Simon, RSN (Rtd), letter to James Goldrick dated 6 June 1992.    8 David Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore: From AMDA to ANZUK, Royal United Services Institute for Defence Studies, London, 1972, p. 27.    9 Singapore 1966 Year Book of the Republic of Singapore, Government Printing Office, Singapore, 1966, p. 12.   10 Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore, p. 53.   11 Chin Kin Wah, ‘Singapore: Threat perception and defence spending in a city-­ state’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1987, p. 205.   12 Chin Kin Wah, ‘Singapore’, p. 62.   13 See Chandran Jeshurun, Malaysian Defence Policy: A Study in Parliamentary Attitudes 1963–1973, Penerbit Universiti Malaya, Kuala Lumpur, 1980. This includes a number of excerpts from speeches by Lee Kuan Yew in the Malaysian Parliament between 1963 and 1965 which illustrate his attitudes to national defence issues.   14 The Republic of Singapore Navy, Naval Archives, Singapore Government, 1988, p. 6.   15 Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore, p. 53.   16 See Yuan Li-­Wu, ‘Planning security for a small nation: Lessons from Singapore’, Pacific Community, July 1972.   17 Zakaria Haji Ahmad, ‘The military and development in Malaysia and Brunei, with a short survey on Singapore’, J. Soedjati Djiwandono and Yong Mun Cheong, eds, Soldiers and Stability in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1988, p. 244.   18 Bilveer Singh and Kwa Chong Guan, ‘The Singapore defence industries: Motivations, organisation and impact’, Chandran Jeshurun, ed., Arms and Defence in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1989, p. 104.   19 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, Jane’s, Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1991, pp. 68–69.   20 Barbara Leitch LePoer, Singapore: A Country Study, US Department of the Army, Washington D.C., 1991, p. 248.   21 Bilveer Singh and Kwa Chong Guan, ‘The Singapore defence industries’, p. 111.   22 Edmond Dantes, ‘Naval build up to continue unabated. Part II’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/92, May 1992, p. 54.   23 Navy: The Vital Force, Republic of Singapore Navy Official, Singapore, May 1992, pp. 32–34.   24 Hawkins, The Defence of Malaysia and Singapore, p. 62.   25 Navy: The Vital Force, p. 34.   26 Navy: The Vital Force, p. 37.   27 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, p. 484.   28 Republic of Singapore Navy, Onwards and Upwards: Celebrating 40 Years of the Navy, SNP International Publishing, Singapore, 2007, p. 30.   29 Derek da Cunha, ‘Major Asian powers and the development of the Singaporean and Malaysian armed forces’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 13, No. 1, June 1991, p. 60.   30 Republic of Singapore Navy, Onwards and Upwards, p. 32.   31 da Cunha, ‘Major Asian powers and the development of the Singaporean and Malaysian armed forces’, p. 61.

254   Notes   32 Patrick Smith and Philip Bowling, ‘The Citizen Soldier’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 13 January 1983, p. 29.   33 ‘Cooperation is the new name of the game’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 13 January 1983, p. 30.   34 LePoer, Singapore, pp. 250–251.   35 Chin Kin Wah, ‘Singapore’, pp. 209–210.   36 Dantes, ‘Naval build-­Up to continue unabated. Part II’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/92, May 1992, p. 54.   37 Tai Ming Cheung, ‘Staying smart’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 5 December 1991, p. 18.   38 Chin Kin Wah, ‘Singapore’, pp. 211–212.   39 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, p. 483.   40 Navy: The Vital Force, pp. 74–77.   41 da Cunha, ‘Major Asian powers and the development of the Singaporean and Malaysian armed forces’, pp. 63–64.   42 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, p. 483.   43 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 8 April 1989, p. 588.   44 Brian Cloughley, ‘Briefing: Singapore fortifies defence stance’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 27 August 1988, p. 368.   45 Dantes, ‘Naval build-­up to continue unabated’, p. 55.   46 Jose Fernandez, ‘ASEAN: High-­tech naval base’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 160.   47 Anthony Preston, ‘The Republic of Singapore Navy’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/90, June 1990, p. 55.   48 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 20 April 1991, p.  623. See also ‘Kockums MCMVs Ordered’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/92, February 1992, pp. 122–123.   49 ‘Naval Forces talks to the Chief of the Singapore Navy’, Naval Forces, Vol. XIII, No. 1, 1992.   50 Aidah Husin, ed., ‘First locally launched minehunter’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/94, March 1994, pp. 82–83.   51 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1995–96, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1995, p. 640.   52 Aidah Husin, ed., ‘ASEAN’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/94, August 1994, p. 87.   53 ‘Industry profile: RSS Fearless – The first of its class for Singapore’s Navy’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/95, April 1995, p. 69.   54 Navy: The Vital Force, p. 67.   55 ‘Naval Forces talks to the Chief of the Singapore Navy’.   56 Interview with Commodore Teo Chee Hean, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 9 November 1991, p. 920.   57 RSN, Navy News, 3 April 1989 and 12 Jun 1989.   58 ‘An exclusive interview with Dr Yeo Ning Hong, Singapore’s Defence Minister’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/92, February 1992, p. 11.   59 Tai Ming Cheung, ‘Staying smart’, p. 20.   60 RSN, Navy News, 8/2007, p. 9.   61 Interview with Commodore Teo Chee Hean, p. 920.   62 ‘Naval Forces talks to the Chief of the Singapore Navy’.   63 ‘Singapore eyes new strike craft and SES’, International Defence Review, 7/1992, July 1992, p. 693.   64 Staff writer, ‘Singapore and her Navy’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/97, May 1997, pp. 11–12.   65 David Boey, ‘Armed forces briefing: Singapore’s fleet gets boost from Navy 2000’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 028, No. 012, 1 December 1995, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (2 April 2009).   66 Dantes, ‘Naval build-­up to continue unabated, Part II’, p. 55.

Notes   255   67 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘The Republic of Singapore Navy today’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/99, May 1999, p. 18.   68 ‘ASEAN: The RSN launches her fourth landing ship tank’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/2000, March 2000, p. 52.   69 Richard Scott, ‘Southeast Asian navies: Slowly surfacing’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 27 March 2002, p. 5. http://search.janes.com (20 April 2009).   70 Isaak Zulkarnaen, ‘Singapore’s Navy takes shape’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/2003, May 2003, p. 10.   71 Robert Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Singapore, diplomacy teams up with deterrence’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 027, No. 017, 30 April 1997, p.  2. http:// search.janes.com (22 April 2009).   72 Mark Farrer, ‘An instant capability? Singapore buys a submarine squadron’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXIV, No. 2, February/March 1998, p. 8.   73 Farrer, ‘An instant capability?’, p. 8.   74 Richard Scott, ‘Signals: Singapore’s Navy steps up its search for stealth advantage’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 104, No. 006, 1 July 1999, p.  1. http:// search.janes.com (4 April 2009).   75 ‘Singapore forces shape up’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 022, No. 020, 19 November 1994, p. 1. http://search.janes.com (22 April 2009).   76 Boey, ‘Armed forces briefing: Singapore’s fleet gets boost from Navy 2000’, p. 1.   77 Singapore Navy News, 23 February 2009.   78 Prasun K. Sengupta, ‘The Republic of Singapore Navy today’, p. 18.   79 Captain Richard Sharpe RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1999–2000, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1999, p. 629.   80 Jose Fernandez, ‘ASEAN: Bilateral naval exercise with Indons’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/93, February 1993, p. 84.   81 Jose Fernandez, ‘ASEAN: KL, Singapore, Jakarta study surveillance system in Strait’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/93, April 1993, p. 80.   82 Tammy Arbuckle, ‘Strategic and security issues: Scourge of piracy returns to Southeast Asia’, Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 029, No. 008, 1 August 1996, p. 4. http://search.janes.com (22 April 2009).   83 Richard Scott, ‘Fleet Review safeguarding the seaward lifeline’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 102, No. 006, 1 August 1997, p. 1. http://search.janes.com (2 April 2009).   84 S. Arunasalam, ‘Top brass interview: Singapore’s Chief of Navy Rear Admiral Richard Lim’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/97, May 1997, p. 14.   85 Republic of Singapore Navy, Onwards and Upwards, p.  108. See also ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Singapore and Indian Navies in anti-­submarine warfare exercise’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/96, April 1996, p. 216.   86 Republic of Singapore Navy, Onwards and Upwards, p. 108.   87 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2004–05, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2004, p. 657.   88 Robert Karniol and Tony Skinner, ‘Making the conection: Singapore Country Briefing’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 24 October 2007, p. 6. http://search.janes.com (2 April 2009).   89 Richard Scott, ‘Singapore mulls Swedish submarine purchase’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 12 October 2005. http://search.janes.com (30 April 2009).   90 ‘Singapore commissions sub’, Jane’s Navy International, January/February 2012, p. 8.   91 Alex Pape, ‘Singapore Navy strikes submarine rescue system deal’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 April 2007. http://search.janes.com (4 April 2009).   92 John Mortimer, ‘Singapore hosts first Western Pacific MCM exercises’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 September 2001, p. 1. http://search.janes.com (22 April 2009).

256   Notes   93 Denise Hammick, ‘Turning the tide: Maritime security in Southeast Asia’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 28 November 2007, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (4 April 2009).   94 ‘ASEAN: RSN hosts first multilateral submarine rescue exercise in the Western Pacific Region’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/2000, p. 48.   95 M. Ghazemy Mahmud, ‘Interview with Rear Admiral Ronnie Tay, Chief of Navy, Singapore’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/2005, May 2005, p. 24.   96 Richard Scott, ‘Out of little acorns grow’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 May 2005, p. 5. http://search.janes.com (2 April 2009).   97 Scott, ‘Out of little acorns grow’, p. 2.   98 Virtual Information Center, Republic of Singapore Primer, 29 March 2001, updated 1 February 2002, p. 50.   99 Hammick, ‘Turning the tide’, p. 2. 100 RSN, Navy News, 02/2005. 101 RSN, Navy News, 27 Apr 2009. 102 Scott, ‘Out of little acorns grow’, p. 2. 103 ‘Amphibious and special forces, Singapore’, Jane’s Amphibious and Special Forces, 9 May 2008, p. 3. http://search.janes.com (22 April 2009). 104 ‘Singapore: Defence industry’, Jane’s World Defence Industry, 19 May 2008, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (4 April 2009). 105 ‘Singapore: Defence industry’, p. 4. 106 RADM Lui Tuck Yew, Speech at the Opening of the Naval Platform Technology Seminar, 10 May 2001. www.mindef.gov.sg/mindef/resources/speeches (12 January 2012). 107 Richard Scott, ‘Singapore seeks solutions through technology’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 December 2001, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (4 April 2009). 108 ‘Republic of Singapore Navy: Chief of Navy Rear Admiral Ronnie Tay’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 2 May 2007, p. 2. http://search.janes.com (2 April 2009). 9  The Royal Thai Navy    * Although Siam was the old name for the nation, Thailand will be used throughout this chapter.    1 Dr Stephen S. Roberts, ‘The Thai Navy’, Warship International, No. 3, 1986, p. 217.    2 With the single exception of a European appointed as C-­in-C, 1900–1901.    3 ‘Visit of USS Petrel to Bangkok, February 1892’, US National Archives, Office of Naval Intelligence, RG 38 Entry 98, Box 1274 – Register 6765.    4 Roger Chesnau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1922–1946, Conway Maritime Press, London, 1980, pp. 410–411.    5 Roberts, ‘The Thai Navy’, p. 238.    6 J.L. Christian, and Nibutaka Ike, ‘Thailand in Japan’s foreign relations’, Pacific Affairs, Vol. XV, 1942, pp. 195–221. It surveys Thailand’s relations with Japan during the build up to the war in Asia.    7 Mountbatten Diary Entry of 20 January 1946. Philip Ziegler, ed., Personal Diary of Admiral The Lord Louis Mountbatten, Supreme Allied Commander South-­East Asia 1943–46, Collins, London, 1988, p. 284.    8 See ADM 116/5557 in the UK National Archives, Kew, for the lengthy discussions in 1946–1947 on transfers to Thailand.    9 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 2, No. 7, July 1947, p. 46.   10 F.C. Darling, ‘American Policy in Thailand’, Western Political Quarterly, Volume XV, March 1962, pp. 96–97.

Notes   257   11 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 5, No. 7, July 1950, p. 296.   12 The Navy, December 1960, p. 382.   13 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 6, No. 4, April 1951, p. 159.   14 David A. Wilson, Politics in Thailand, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, New York, 1962, pp. 25–26.   15 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 9, August 1952, p. 319.   16 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1952–53, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1952, p. 342.   17 Roberts, ‘The Thai Navy’, pp. 244–246.   18 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 8, No. 1, January 1953, pp. 259–260.   19 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 3, April 1952, p. 139.   20 ‘The Royal Thai Marine Corps’, United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 17, No. 10, October 1962, p. 448.   21 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 6, June 1952, pp. 259–260.   22 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 11, November 1952, p. 460.   23 United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 7, No. 8, August 1952, p. 319.   24 Frederica M. Bunge, ed., Thailand: A Country Study, Foreign Area Studies, The American University, Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 1981, pp. 205–206.   25 ‘The Royal Thai Marine Corps’, p. 448.   26 ‘Thai Navy Day Exercises, 1954’, United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 10, No. 4, April 1955, pp. 189–191.   27 ‘Foreign Navies in 1956’, United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Review, Vol. 12, No. 3, March 1951, p. 92.   28 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1964–65, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1964, p. 249.   29 Robert Gardiner, ed., Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1947–1982, Conway Maritime Press, London, 1987, p. 368.   30 D.A. van Horssen, ‘The Royal Thai Navy’, United States Naval Institute Proceedings, No. 760, June 1966, p. 83.   31 See J.D. Caswell, ‘The changing Thai–United States alliance: Implications for the Nixon doctrine in Asia’, United States Naval War College Review, October 1971, pp. 75.   32 ‘A change of spots’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 12 June 1969, p. 609.   33 Barbara Leitch LePoer, ed., Thailand: A Country Study, Department of the Army, United States Government, Washington D.C., 1989, pp. 161–162.   34 LePoer, Thailand, p. 179.   35 Thailand reportedly ordered 15 Gabriel missiles. See Foreign Military Markets, South America/Australasia, Defence Market Service Intelligence Report, Greenwich, 1979.   36 Foreign Military Markets, South America/Australasia, p. 238.   37 The order was for 12 Exocets. Foreign Military Markets, South America/Australasia, p. 238.   38 As in the appointment of Admiral Sanghad Chaloryoo to be leader of the Revolutionary Council instead of a soldier. See Chai-­Anan Samudavanija, The Thai Young Turks, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1982, p. 40.

258   Notes   39 ‘Military policy of the Ministry of Defence, Buddhist Era 2520’, (ad 1977); cited in Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1987, pp. 84–85.   40 Muthiah Alagappa, The National Security of Developing States: Lessons from Thailand, Institute of Strategic and International Studies (ISIS) Malaysia, Auburn House Publishing, Dover, Massachusetts, 1987, p. 119.   41 There were accusations that this base was intended more as a US naval facility for the Indian Ocean than for Thai use, although this ignores the obvious Thai requirement for a West Coast presence. See Malcolm Caldwell, ‘Foreword’, David Elliott, Thailand: Origins of Military Rule, Zed Press, London, 1978.   42 Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, p. 79.   43 Muthiah Alagappa, The National Security of Developing States, see especially pp. 106–108.   44 Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, p. 87.   45 Charles van der Donckt, The Changing Naval Environment in Southeast Asia, Extra-­Mural Paper No. 56, Operational Research and Analysis Establishment, Ottawa, November 1991, p. 19.   46 Stuart Slade, ‘Thailand’s push to blue water’, Naval Forces, June 1990, p. 76.   47 Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, p. 79.   48 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1989–90, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1989, p. 652.   49 G. Jacobs, ‘Thailand’s armed forces. Part 2: The Air Force and Navy’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/85, May 1985, p. 23.   50 Amitav Archaya, A Survey of Military Co-­operation among ASEAN States: Bilateralism or Alliance? Occasional Paper No. 14, Centre for Strategic and International Studies, York University, Toronto, 1990, Appendix 1.   51 G. Jacobs ‘Thailand’s armed forces: Part 2: The Air Force and Navy’, p. 23.   52 The Training Squadron visited Fremantle in Western Australia in 1984.   53 G. Jacobs, ‘Thailand’s armed forces: Part 2: The Air Force and Navy’, p. 20.   54 Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, p. 89.   55 International Institute for Strategic Studies, The Military Balance, London, see 1986, 1987 and 1988 editions. Note, however, that the nature of the Thai budgetary process and the existence of ‘Secret’ funds make it difficult to assess such figures correctly.   56 ‘Defence Ministry wants $480 million’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/88, April 1988, p. 98.   57 Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, p. 101.   58 Admiral Tada Ditthabanchong interview in June 1987. Cited in ‘Anti-­sub corvette joins Navy’s fleet’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/87, August 1987, p. 103.   59 Captain Richard, Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1992, pp. 648 and 656.   60 Jose Fernandez, ‘Defence plans for Eastern seaboard’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/91 September 1991, p. 87.   61 International Defence Review, 8/88, August 1988, p. 1013.   62 International Defence Review, 7/88, July 1988, p. 856.   63 International Defence Review, 8/88, p. 1013.   64 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 30 September 1989, p. 629.

Notes   259   65 Edmond Dantes, ‘Naval build-­up to continue unabated, Part II’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/92, May 1992, p. 58.   66 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 23 December 1989 and 27 January 1990.   67 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 20 January 1990, p. 101.   68 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 9 February 1991, p. 176.   69 Fernandez, ‘Defence plans for Eastern seaboard’, p. 88.   70 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 3 August 1991, p. 192.   71 Slade, ‘Thailand’s push to blue water’, p. 78.   72 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1991–92, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1991, p.  550. See also Jane’s Defence Weekly, 2 February 1991, p. 142. For earlier reports see Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 November 1989 and Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, September 1990, p. 29.   73 Jane’s Defence Weekly, 4 April 1992, p. 551.   74 Rodney Tasker, ‘Reaching for the sky’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 22 February 1990, p. 22.   75 Rodney Tasker, ‘Order arms’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 4 October 1990, p. 20.   76 The ACDC is a formation created for the static defence of land installations. Robert Karniol, ‘The RTN’s two-­ocean ambition’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 3 December 1994, Vol. 022, No. 022, http://search.janes.com (1 September 2009).   77 Karniol, ‘The RTN’s two-­ocean ambition’.   78 Mark Farrer, ‘The Royal Thai Navy: Progress or stagnation’? Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXV, No. 5, August/September 1999, p. 12.   79 Farrer, ‘The Royal Thai Navy’, p. 12.   80 Micool Brooke and Wassana Nanuam, ‘The military in Thailand’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/96, July 1996, p. 13.   81 Micool Brooke and Wassana Nanuam, ‘The military in Thailand: Royal Thai Navy – Southeast Asia’s first helicopter carrier’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/96, July 1996, p. 31.   82 Jose Fernandez, ‘ASEAN: Bigger role for the RTN’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 161.   83 Mark Rolls, ‘Thailand’s defence and security: Transformation for a new era’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/95, September 1995, p. 18.   84 Rolls, ‘Thailand’s defence and security: Transformation for a new era’, p. 19.   85 Micool Brooke, ‘Thailand’s New Policy for ASEAN?’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/96, February 1996, p. 104.   86 Brooke and Wassana Nanuam, ‘The military in Thailand: Royal Thai Navy – Southeast Asia’s first helicopter carrier’, p. 28.   87 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Phuket base for Thai Navy’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/95, September 1995, p. 102.   88 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: PM throws support behind Navy’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/97, May 1997, p. 74.   89 Rolls, ‘Thailand’s defence and security: Transformation for a new era’, p. 19.   90 ‘ASEAN: Navy keen to start joint patrols with Vietnam’, Asian Defence Journal, 1 and 2/97, January and February 1997, p. 56.   91 ‘ASEAN: Vietnam – joint patrols with the RTN’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/99, July 1999, p. 62.   92 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Problems between Thailand, Myanmar and Malaysia over fishing’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/96, February 1996, p. 117.   93 Karniol, ‘The RTN’s two-­ocean ambition’.   94 Karniol, ‘The RTN’s two-­ocean ambition’.   95 Paul Beaver, ‘Asia: Security threats redirect goals’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 May 1996, http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009).

260   Notes   96 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: RTN seeks to buy US fast frigate’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/96, September 1996, p. 77.   97 Captain Richard Sharpe, RN, ed. Jane’s Fighting Ships 2000–01, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2000, p. 692.   98 Aidah Husin, ed., ‘ASEAN,’ Asian Defence Journal, 7/94, July 1994, p.  85. In mid-­1994, the Thai Cabinet approved funds for the purchase of the two ex-­USN Knox class frigates.   99 Robert Karniol, ‘Headline news: Thailand orders Italian minehunters for $120m’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 026, No. 017, 23 October 1996. http:// search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 100 ‘Asia Pacific: Partners win second Thai deal’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 028, No. 017, 29 October 1997. http://search.janes.com (14 July 2009). 101 Robert Karniol, ‘Thais seek Harriers for carrier’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 020, No. 018, 30 October 1993. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 102 Karniol, ‘Thais seek Harriers for carrier’. 103 Farrer, ‘The Royal Thai Navy: Progress or stagnation?’, p. 12. 104 The normal air group was expected to comprise a mix of Sea Hawk helicopters and AV-­8S Matadors. 105 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Features: Thailand takes East Asia into the Carrier Age’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 025, No. 005, 31 January 1996. http://search.janes. com (28 June 2009). 106 Lok, ‘Features: Thailand takes East Asia into the Carrier Age’. 107 Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Signals: Royal Thai Navy upgrades new carrier combat system’, Jane’s Navy International, Vol. 103, No. 010, 1 December 1998. http:// search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 108 Robert Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific: Thai defence prepares for further cutbacks’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 028, No. 023, 10 December 1997. http://search.janes. com (9 July 2009). 109 Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific: Thai defence prepares for further cutbacks’. 110 ‘ASEAN: Malaysia – exercises to resume’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/99, August 1999, p. 54. 111 ‘Asia-­Pacific, In Brief: Thailand grounds Harrier Squadron’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 031, No. 023, 9 June 1999. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 112 ‘ASEAN: Thailand – wary of second-­hand hardware’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/99, July 1999, p. 61. 113 Micool Brooke, ‘Royal Thai armed forces’, Asian Defence Review, 11/99, November 1999, p. 12. 114 Robert Karniol and Joris Janssen Lok, ‘Headline news: Thai Cabinet approves submarine acquisition’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 023, No. 002, 14 January 1995. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 115 Karniol and Lok, ‘Headline news, Thai Cabinet approves submarine acquisition’. 116 Shalani, Devi, ‘ASEAN: Setback in Navy’s plan’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/95, June 1995, p. 71. 117 Robert Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific: Cuts force Thailand to freeze patrol submarine buy’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 025, No. 020, 15 May 1996, http://search.janes. com (8 July 2009). 118 Anthony Davis, ‘Thailand and India bid to curb arms smuggling’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 June 2003. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 119 Guy Toremans, ‘Asia-­Pacific MCM assets put to the test’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 26 May 2004. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 120 ‘Executive Summary, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 8 August 2008. http://search.janes.com (28 June 2009).

Notes   261 121 Jon Grevatt, ‘South Korea and Thailand sign industrial co-­operation deal’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 19 August 2008. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 122 ‘Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand: Strait of Mallaca [sic] states agree to maritime security co-­operation’, Jane’s Country Risk Daily Report, 12 December 2005. http://search.janes.com (13 July 2009). 123 ‘The market: Australasia and East Asia, Thailand’, Jane’s Naval Construction and Retrofit Markets, 29 January 2007. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 124 Sam Bateman, ‘Naval balance in Southeast Asia – search for stability’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 11 May 2005. http://search.janes.com (28 June 2009). 125 ‘Thailand, Sweden order new vessels’, International Defence Review, 1 February 2006. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 126 Robert Karniol, ‘China unveils new patrol vessel design for Thailand’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 24 December 2003. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 127 ‘ASEAN: Helicopter plan axed’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/2000, November 2000, p. 49. 128 Damian Kemp, ‘Thailand accepts Super Lynx 300 multirole helicopters’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 16 February 2005. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 129 James Murphy, ‘Congress receives notice of possible FMS of MH-­60S to Thailand’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 May 2006. http://search.janes.com (9 July 2009). 130 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2003–2004, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2003, p. 711. 131 ‘The Market: Australasia and East Asia, Thailand’. 132 ‘The Market: Australasia and East Asia, Thailand’. 133 James Murphy, ‘Thailand proposes barter trade to find future defence upgrades’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 January 2006. http://search.janes.com (28 June 2009). 134 Jon Grevatt, ‘Thailand’s military urged to reform if it wants equipment cash’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 August 2007. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 135 Grevatt, ‘Thailand’s military urged to reform if it wants equipment cash’. 136 Jon Grevatt, ‘Thailand pumps funds into defence budget to counter currency fall’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 11 September 2008. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 137 Jon Grevatt, ‘ST Marine wins contract for Thai amphibious vessels’, Jane’s Navy International, 17 November 2008. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). ‘Royal Thai Navy’, http://en.wikepedia.org (30 January 2012). 138 Jon Grevatt, ‘RTN hopes for submarine procurement backing following change of government’, Jane’s Defence Industry, 1 September 2007. http:// search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 139 Defence of Thailand 2008, cited in Defense of Japan 2010, Ministry of Defense, Japan, 2010, p. 125. 140 ‘Thai navy in line for first subs fleet’, Bangkok Post, 28 March 2011. www.bangkokpost.com (30 January 2012). 141 Saksith Saiyasombut, ‘Subs or choppers? Thailand’s military build-­up hits a snag’, 4 October 2011. www.asiancorrespondent.com (04 February 2012). 142 ‘PM hedges on submarine proposal’, Bangkok Post, 15 December 2011. www. bangkokpost.com (4 February 2012). 143 Gavin M. Greenwood, ‘Thailand in market for German subs’, Asia Sentinel, 4 April 2011. www.asiasentinel.com (4 February 2012). 144 ‘Submarine purchase plan to be refloated’, Bangkok Post, 25 January 2012. www.bangkokpost.com (4 February 2012). 145 ‘Navy torpedoes Bt7.6-billion submarine project’, The Nation, 14 March 2012. www.nationmultimedia.com/national/Navy-­torpedoes-Bt7–6-billion-­ submarine-project (4 March 2012).

262   Notes 146 ‘Thailand launches OPV’, Jane’s Navy International, January/February 2012, p. 8. 147 ‘Defence budget, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 30 April 2009. http://search.janes.com (8 July 2009). 148 ‘Defence budget, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia. 149 ‘Royal Thai Navy flotilla embarks on anti-­piracy operation’, Pattaya Daily News, 12 September 2010. www.pattayadailynews.com (4 February 2012). ‘Thai Navy anti-­piracy fleet heads to Somalia’, The Nation, 12 July 2011. www.nationmultimedia.com (04 February 2012). 150 ‘Navy, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 30 April 2009. http://search.janes.com (28 June 2009). 151 ‘Navy, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia. 152 ‘Navy, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia. 153 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2009–10, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2009, pp. 802–807. 154 ‘Navy, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia. 155 ‘Navy, Thailand’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia. 10  The South Vietnamese Navy    1 Greg Lockhard, Nation at Arms: The Origin of the People’s Army of Vietnam, Allen and Unwin, North Sydney, 1989, p. 8.    2 Vo Nguyen Giap, People’s War: People’s Army, Foreign Languages Publishing House, Hanoi, 1961, p. 98.    3 Charles W. Koburger, Jr, Naval Expeditions: The French Return to Indochina, 1945–1946, Praeger, Westport, CT, 1997, p. 106.    4 Edwin Hooper, Dean Allard and Oscar Fitzgerald, The USN and the Vietnam Conflict: The Setting of the Stage to 1959, Vol. 1, Naval History Division, Department of the Navy, Washington, D.C., 1976, p. 128.    5 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 4.    6 Barry Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, Patrick Stevens, Wellingborough, 1988, p. 7.    7 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 7.    8 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 8.    9 Charles W. Koburger, Jr, The French Navy in Indo-­China: Riverine and Coastal Forces 1945–1954, Praeger, New York, 1991, p. 101.   10 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 101.   11 Colonel Victor J. Croizat, USMC (Rtd), ‘Vietnamese naval forces: Origin of the species’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Vol. 99, No. 2/840, February 1973, p. 51.   12 Bao Dai had been brought back as titular head of a French sponsored regime on 8 June 1948. Stanley Karnow, Vietnam: A History, Penguin, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1983, pp. 173–174.   13 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 174.   14 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 174.   15 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 50.   16 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 101.   17 These were the ‘divisions navales d’assaut’ or naval assault divisions, favoured by the French for their riverine operations in Vietnam. ‘Dinassaut: Riverine warfare in Indochina, 1945–1954’. http://indochine54.free.fr/cefeo/dinassau.html (13 October 2007).   18 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 197.   19 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 197.   20 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 102.

Notes   263   21 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 52.   22 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 198.   23 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 52.   24 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 103.   25 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 53.   26 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 53.   27 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 34.   28 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 103.   29 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 63.   30 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 34.   31 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 102.   32 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 102.   33 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 102.   34 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 102.   35 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 200. Croizat claims that the nine officer trainees were taken not from the merchant service, but from the Hydrography School in Saigon. Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 52.   36 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 103.   37 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 228.   38 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 103.   39 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 53.   40 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 53.   41 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 103.   42 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 227.   43 Lieutenant R.P.W. Murphy, USNR and Colonel Edwin F. Black, USA, ‘The South Vietnamese Navy’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Vol. 90, No. 1, January 1964, p. 56.   44 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, pp. 53–54.   45 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 183.   46 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 265.   47 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 266.   48 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 299.   49 Dean C. Allard, By Sea, Air and Land: An Illustrated History of the U.S. Navy and the War in Southeast Asia, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C., 1994, p. 10.   50 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 55.   51 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 307.   52 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 54.   53 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 307.   54 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 307.   55 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 321.   56 Croizat notes that at about this time there was a decision to reduce the Marine Corps in ‘a crippling cut’ to 1,000 men; something not cited in other sources. Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 56.   57 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 323.   58 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 324.   59 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, pp. 326–327.   60 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 324.   61 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 57.   62 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 329.   63 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 58.   64 Croizat, ‘Vietnamese Naval Forces’, p. 58.   65 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 105.   66 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 104.

264   Notes   67 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 329.   68 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 329.   69 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, pp. 317–318.   70 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, pp. 338–339.   71 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 330.   72 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 331.   73 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 332.   74 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 104.   75 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 338.   76 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, pp. 340–341.   77 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 313.   78 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 344.   79 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 374.   80 Murphy and Black, ‘The South Vietnamese Navy’, p. 53.   81 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 374.   82 Hooper et al., The USN and the Vietnam Conflict, p. 344.   83 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 20.   84 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 22.   85 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 27.   86 Koburger, The French Navy in Vietnam, p. 105.   87 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 27.   88 Commander R.L. Schreadley, USN, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings Naval Review 1971, Vol. 97, No. 819, May 1971, p. 186.   89 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 215.   90 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 226.   91 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 22.   92 Murphy and Black, ‘The South Vietnamese Navy’, p. 54.   93 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 9.   94 Murphy and Black, ‘The South Vietnamese Navy’, p. 54.   95 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 226.   96 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 226.   97 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 34.   98 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 34.   99 Murphy and Black, ‘The South Vietnamese Navy’, p. 58. 100 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 35. 101 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, pp. 36–37. 102 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 38. 103 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 11. 104 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 36. 105 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 25. 106 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 12. 107 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 221. 108 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 188. 109 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 63. 110 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 215. 111 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 221. 112 Lieutenant Commander Richard L. Madouse, USN, ‘The Vietnamese Naval Academy’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, No. 3, Vol. 95, No. 793, March 1969, pp. 55–56. 113 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 224. 114 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 38. 115 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 37. Prior to this, the 3,500 strong coastal force had been a paramilitary organization. 116 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 38.

Notes   265 117 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 65. 118 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 16. 119 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 192. 120 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 151. 121 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 39. 122 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 39. 123 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 225. 124 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 263. 125 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 263. 126 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 205. 127 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 205. 128 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, pp. 224–225. 129 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 285. 130 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 206. 131 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 206. 132 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 199. 133 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 127. 134 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 269. 135 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 199. 136 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 276. 137 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 287. 138 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 289. 139 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 206. 140 Schreadley, ‘The naval war in Vietnam’, p. 206. 141 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 289. 142 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 290. 143 Raymond V.B. Blackman, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1972–1973, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1972, p. 665. 144 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 318. 145 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 323. 146 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 323. 147 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 323. 148 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 327. 149 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 355. 150 Gerhard Will, ‘Vietnam’s Navy and naval strategy’, Jürgen Schwarz, Wilfried A. Herrmann and Hanns-­Frank Seller, Maritime Strategies in Asia, White Lotus Press, Bangkok, 2002, p. 427. 151 The best summary of the encounter in English is in fact the Wikpedia entry ‘Battle of the Paracel Islands’ (12 January 2012), which includes extensive source citations, including a first-­hand account by the senior officer afloat. This makes depressing reading, despite his efforts to cast the best light on the dismal performance of the South Vietnamese force. 152 Will, ‘Vietnam’s Navy and naval strategy’, p. 357. 153 Will, ‘Vietnam’s Navy and naval strategy’, p. 368. 11  The People’s Army of Vietnam Navy    1 Douglas Pike, PAVN: People’s Army of Vietnam, Presidio Press: Novato, CA, 1986, p. 110. The writer also notes, however, that the anniversary or ‘tradition day’ has been moved to 5 August 1964, the date of the Tonkin Gulf Incident.    2 Barry Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, Patrick Stevens, Wellingborough, 1988, p. 46.    3 Pike, PAVN, p. 110.    4 Pike, PAVN, p. 111.

266   Notes    5 Edward J. Marolda and Oscar P. Fitzgerald, The United States Navy and the Vietnam Conflict. Vol. II: From Military Assistance to Combat 1959–1965, Washington, D.C: Naval Historical Center, 1986, pp. 414–417 and 426–434.    6 Dean C. Allard, By Sea, Air and Land: An Illustrated History of the U.S. Navy and the War in Southeast Asia, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C., 1994, p. 53.    7 Scott Shane, ‘Doubts cast on Vietnam incident, but secret study stays classified’, New York Times, 31 October 2005, p.  1. (U.S. Department of Defense EARLYBIRD Current News Service) (8 November 2005).    8 Gregory, Vietnam Coastal and Riverine Forces Handbook, p. 13.    9 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 96.   10 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 143.   11 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 151.   12 Allard, By Sea, Air and Land, p. 350.   13 ‘Consolidation in Indo China’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1977–78, PY Logistics and Holdings, Church Point, NSW, 1978, p. 58.   14 ‘The Year in Perspective’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1978–79, PY Logistics and Holdings, Church Point, NSW, 1979, p. 19.   15 Pike, PAVN, pp. 256–257.   16 ‘The Third Indo China War’, in Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1978–9, PY Logistics and Holdings, Church Point, NSW, 1979, p. 110.   17 ‘Consolidation in Indo China’, p. 63.   18 ‘The Year in Perspective’, p. 13.   19 ‘The Third Indo China War’, p. 116.   20 ‘Vietnam and Mainland South East Asia’, Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1980, PY Logistics and Holdings, Church Point, NSW, 1979, p. 81.   21 Denis Warner, ‘The regional scene’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1982, Peter Isaacson Publications, Prahran, Vic., 1982, p. 31.   22 P. Lewis Young, ‘The Soviet naval base at Cam Ranh Bay: An investigation’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/87, September 1987, p. 46.   23 ‘1980 and beyond’, Pacific Defence Reporter Annual Reference Edition 1980–81, Peter Isaacson Publications, Prahran, Vic., 1980, p. 13.   24 Tai Sung An, ‘Soviet access to Cam Ranh Bay: Political and military implications’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, September 1979, p. 112.   25 Lewis Young, ‘The Soviet Naval Base at Cam Ranh Bay’, p. 46.   26 ‘The Year in Perspective’, p. 12.   27 Warner, ‘The regional scene’, p. 31.   28 F.A. Mediansky, ‘The superpowers and Southeast Asia’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/85, January 1985, p. 11.   29 Lim Joo-­jock, ‘How Singapore sees the Vietnam threat’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1982, Peter Isaacson Publications, Prahran, Vic., 1982, p. 56.   30 Denis Warner, ‘Inauspicious start for Year of the Dragon’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter, 1988 Annual Reference Edition, Vol. XIV, No. 6/7, December 1987/January 1988, Peter Isaacson Publications, Prahran, Vic., 1988, p. 4.   31 Shahnaz Sulaiman, ‘Indochina: Russia may be packing up at Cam Ranh Bay’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/90, February 1990, p.  150. By March 1990 the Vietnamese Government was claiming that all MiG 23 and Tu 16 aircraft had left and that only one squadron of Soviet aircraft remained at Cam Ranh Bay. ‘Jottings’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/90, March 1990, p. 146.   32 Frank Frost, Vietnam’s Foreign Relations: Dynamics of Change, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1994, p. 28.

Notes   267   33 Carlyle A. Thayer, The Vietnamese People’s Army under Doi Moi, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1994, p. 14.   34 Thayer, The Vietnamese People’s Army under Doi Moi, pp. 34 and 37.   35 Thayer, The Vietnamese People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 21.   36 Frost, Vietnam’s Foreign Relations, p. 27.   37 Thayer, The Vietnamese People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 68.   38 Anjum Razvi, ‘Indochina: Vietnam – naval base offer to US’, Asian Defence Journal, 12/90, December 1990, pp. 118–119.   39 ‘Consolidation in Indo-­China’, p. 59.   40 ‘The Third Indo China War’, p. 110.   41 Information provided by the Australian Defence Attaché to Hanoi, Capt. John Griffith, RAN, in October 2007.   42 Douglas Pike, ‘Vietnam: A modern Sparta’, Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. IX, No. 10, April 1983, p. 37.   43 Pike, ‘Vietnam: A Modern Sparta’, p. 36.   44 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 4.   45 Capt. John Moore, RN., ed. Jane’s Fighting Ships 1979–80, MacDonald and Jane’s, London, 1979, p. 770.   46 Capt. John Moore, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1981–82, MacDonald and Jane’s. London, 1981, p. 719.   47 A.W. Grazebrook, ‘Maritime warfare in Southeast Asia’, Pacific Defence Reporter, March 1980, Vol. VI, No. 9, pp. 13–14.   48 Moore, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1979–80, pp. 770–771.   49 Lim Joo-­jock, ‘How Singapore sees the Vietnam threat’, p. 53.   50 Moore, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1981–82, pp. 791–792.   51 ‘ASEAN defence news’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/82, August 1982, p. 7.   52 ‘ASEAN defence news: Thailand denies charge by Hanoi’, Asian Defence Journal, 8/81, August 1981, p. 54.   53 G. Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s threat potential to ASEAN’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/82, May 1982, p. 16.   54 Bradley Hahn, ‘South-­East Asia’s miniature naval arms race’, Pacific Defence Reporter, September 1985, p. 22.   55 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 8.   56 Pike, PAVN, p. 113.   57 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s threat potential to ASEAN’, p. 16.   58 Captain Richard Sharpe, OBE, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1992, p. 815.   59 Moore, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1981–82, pp. 808–809.   60 Gordon Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s changing naval forces’, Navy International, March 1986, p. 172.   61 Carlyle A. Thayer, ‘Strategic outlook in Indochina’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter Annual Reference Edition 1996, Vol. XXII, No. 1/2, January/February 1996, p. 12.   62 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s changing naval forces’, p. 173.   63 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s changing naval forces’, p. 173.   64 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s threat potential to ASEAN’, p. 17.   65 Desmond Wettern, ‘Soviet submarines for Vietnam, but whither Admiral Gorshkov?’ Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XI, No. 9, March 1985, p. 14.   66 Commodore Stephen Saunders, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2002–2003, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2002, p. 880.   67 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s changing naval forces’, pp. 71–72.   68 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 23.   69 Bradley Hahn, ‘The wind of change’, Australia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, September 1991, p. 9.

268   Notes   70 Gerhard Will, ‘Vietnam’s Navy and naval strategy’, Jürgen Schwarz, Wilfried A. Herrmann and Hanns-­Frank Seller, Maritime Strategies in Asia, White Lotus Press, Bangkok, 2002, p. 439.   71 ‘Jottings’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/87, October 1987, p. 113.   72 Ramses Amer, ‘Vietnam and its neighbours: The border dispute dimension’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 17, No. 3, December 1995, p. 302.   73 P. Lewis Young, ‘China and the South China Sea’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/86, July 1986, p. 30.   74 R.S. Sassheen, ‘Protest by China’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/87, May 1987, p. 119.   75 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s threat potential to ASEAN’, p. 16.   76 R.S. Sassheen, ‘Vietnam, China clash: Three ships sunk’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/88, April 1988, p. 101.   77 P. Lewis Young, ‘Territorial disputes in the South China and Timor Seas’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/88, October 1988, p. 44.   78 ‘Jottings: China has again accused Vietnam of armed provocations against Chinese vessels’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/88, April 1988, p. 90.   79 Anjum Razui, ‘Indochina: Beijing orders Hanoi to withdraw from the Spratlys’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/91, February 1991, p. 85.   80 ‘ASEAN defence news’, Asian Defence Journal, 3/80, May–June 1980, p. 28.   81 ‘ASEAN defence news’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/81, July 1981, p. 10.   82 Ramses Amer, ‘Vietnam and its Neighbours’, p. 305.   83 ‘Indochina: The Spratlys and Paracels – a bone of contention’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/84, February 1984, p. 7.   84 Ramses Amer, ‘Vietnam and its Neighbours’, pp. 304–305.   85 Ramses Amer, ‘Vietnam and its Neighbours’, p. 301.   86 Hahn, ‘The wind of change’, p. 9.   87 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 35.   88 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 41.   89 Carlyle A. Thayer, ‘Force modernization: The case of the Vietnam People’s Army’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, Vol. 19, No. 1, June 1997, p. 7.   90 Thayer, ‘Force Modernization’, p. 7.   91 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 64.   92 Micool Brooke, ‘India courts Vietnam with arms and nuclear technology’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, August/September 2000, Vol. XXVII, No. 5, p. 20.   93 Aidah Husin, ‘Indochina update – Vietnam: Hanoi, Moscow sign new friendship agreement’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/94, September 1994, p. 93.   94 Thayer, ‘Force Modernization’, p. 14.   95 ‘Russia’s history at Cam Ranh Bay’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 December 2001. http://www4.janes.com/htm (24 April 2006).   96 ‘Russia’s history at Cam Ranh Bay’.   97 ‘Russia’s history at Cam Ranh Bay’.   98 ‘Russia to transfer Cam Ranh navy base to Vietnam by 6 May’, BBC Monitoring, 11 April 2002. www.cdi.org/russia/201.txt (20 September 2005).   99 Anjum Razvi, ‘Indochina – Vietnam: Hanoi pushed to seek closer ASEAN ties’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/92, September 1992, pp. 104–105. 100 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 70. 101 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, pp. 70–71. 102 Thayer, The Vietnam People’s Army under Doi Moi, p. 71. 103 Udai Bhanu Singh, ‘Vietnam’s Security Perspectives’, Strategic Analysis, Vol. XXIII, No. 9, December 1999. www.ciaonet.org/olj.sa/sa_99siu01.html (17 May 2007). 104 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Thailand – RTN ships call in Vietnam port in new maritime cooperation’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/97, July 1997, p. 50.

Notes   269 105 ‘ASEAN and Vietnam: Maritime border deal completed’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/97, September 1997, p. 68. 106 ‘Asia Pacific, In brief: Thailand, Vietnam to launch patrols’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 029, No. 023, 10 June 1998. http://www4.janes.com/htm (21 September 2005). 107 ‘ASEAN: Thai, Vietnam Navies to resume joint sea patrols’, Asian Defence Journal, 12/03, December 2003, p. 40. 108 ‘Asia Pacific, Japan, Vietnam in security dialogue’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 033, No. 012, 22 March 2000. http://www4.janes.com/htm (29 March 2006). 109 ‘Japan–Vietnam–India ties’, Jane’s Foreign Report, 1 June 2000. http://www4. janes.com/htm (2 March 2006). 110 ‘In brief: Japan, Vietnam to boost co-­operation’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 23 July 2003. http://www4.janes.com/htm (3 April 2006). 111 Brooke, ‘India courts Vietnam with arms and nuclear technology’, p. 20. 112 ‘SW Asia and Middle East, India and Vietnam’, Foreign Report, No. 2590, 4 May 2000. http://www4.janes.com/htm (2 March 2006). 113 Brooke, ‘India courts Vietnam with arms and nuclear technology’, p. 20. 114 Brooke, ‘India courts Vietnam with arms and nuclear technology’, p. 21. 115 Micool Brooke, ‘Vietnam battles internal politico-­economic and external threats’, Asian Defence Journal, 9/01, September 2001, p. 14. 116 Sam Bateman, ‘Dangerous waters ahead’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 28 March 2001. http://www4.janes.com/htm (30 March 2006). 117 Brooke, ‘India courts Vietnam with arms and nuclear technology’, p. 21. 118 ‘PLA Navy vessel concluded visit to Vietnam’, People’s Daily Online, 22 November 2001. http://english.people.com.cn/200111/22/print20011122_85116. html (20 September 2005). 119 Robert Karniol, ‘Vietnam to observe “Cobra Gold 2002” ’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 8 May 2002. http://www4.janes.com/htm (1 April 2006). Cobra Gold is a major U.S. sponsored exercise with Thailand and recently also including Singapore. Begun in 1982, it was at the time the largest exercise in Asia involving US forces. 120 Robert Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific, Vietnam poised to publish first defence White Paper’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 030, No. 004, 29 July 1998. http://www4. janes.com/htm (21 September 2005). 121 Micool Brooke, ‘Vietnam’s White Paper aims to win “Hearts and Minds” of ASEAN neighbours’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/98, October 1998, p. 25. 122 Dr Gary Klintworth, ‘Vietnam’s offshore capabilities get a boost’, A.W. Grazebrook, ed., Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXV, No. 1, December 1998– January 1999, p. 6. 123 Robert Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Vietnam off the ground’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 4 January 2006. http://www4.janes.com/htm (2 March 2006). 124 Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Vietnam off the ground’. 125 ‘Regional digest: Southeast Asia – Vietnam reiterates its military policies’, Asian Defence and Diplomacy, Vol. 12, No. 1, January 2005, p. 7. 126 Adam Schwarz, ‘Where oil and water mix’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 16 March 1995, p. 54. 127 Ho Limpeng, ‘The Spratly Islands: Asian flashpoint’, Navy International, September/October 1994, p. 257. 128 Udai Bhanu Singh, ‘Vietnam’s Security Perspectives’, p. 5. 129 Dominic Faulder, ‘New fuel on old fires’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter Annual Reference Edition, December 1992/January 1993, Vol. XIX, No. 6/7, p. 39. 130 M. Richardson, ‘Spratlys increasing cause for concern’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, October/November 1992, Vol. XIX, No. 4/5, p. 36.

270   Notes 131 Shalani Devi, ‘ASEAN – Vietnam: Survey on Spratlys’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/95, February 1995, p. 87. 132 Aidah Husin, ‘Indochina update: Vietnam builds first lighthouse in Spratlys’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/93, November 1993, p. 55. 133 Aidah Husin, ‘Indochina update – Vietnam: China’s claim heightens row with Vietnam’, Asian Defence Journal, 7/94, July 1994, p. 88. 134 Michael Richardson, ‘South China Sea: Strategic signpost for Asia’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter Annual Reference Edition 1995, Vol. XXI, No. 6/7, December 1994/January 1995, p. 49. 135 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Hanoi awaits China’s reply on fate of patrol boats’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/97, February 1997, p. 57. 136 Mark Farrer, ‘Stresses in the South China Sea: Vietnam and China’, Asia-­ Pacific Defence Reporter, January 2000, Vol. XXVI, No. 1, p. 14. 137 ‘ASEAN and Indochina: Vietnam – China and Vietnam make progress in border talks’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/96, November 1996, p. 61. 138 ‘ASEAN backs Vietnam in new spat with China’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/97, May 1997, p. 1. 139 Gary Klintworth, ‘Vietnam’s offshore capabilities get a boost’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, December 1998/January 1999, Vol. XXIV, No. 7, p. 6. 140 ‘ASEAN: Vietnam – no breakthroughs in Sino-­Vietnamese maritime talks’, Asian Defence Journal, 5/98, May 1998, p. 58. 141 ‘ASEAN: Vietnam – sea border talks: no progress’, Asian Defence Journal, 6/2000, June 2000, p. 53. 142 Bateman, ‘Dangerous waters ahead’. 143 ‘ASEAN: Tours to disputed islands’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/03, November 2003, p. 54. 144 Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Vietnam off the ground’. 145 ‘In brief – Malaysia, Vietnam discuss hotline’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 15 March 2006. 146 D.S. Rajan, ‘China-­Vietnam row on Spratlys in South China Sea: Lessons for India – Analysis’, 24 June 2011. www.eurasiareview.com/240611 (15 January 2012). 147 Major (Rtd) R. Sachi, Miss Ellisha Nasruddin and Benjamin Machmud, ‘Asia-­ Pacific – the year in review: Military balance Asia-­Pacific’, Asian Defence Journal, 1/93, January 1993, p. 121. 148 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1992–93, pp. 815–818. 149 Thayer, ‘Force modernization’, p. 18. 150 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1999–2000, Jane’s Information Group: Coulsdon, Surrey, 1999, p. 869. 151 Nikolai Novichkov, ‘Asia Pacific, Vietnam to boost corvette fleet’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 031, No. 004, 27 January 1999. http://www4.janes.com/htm (27 March 2006). 152 Micool Brooke, ‘The armed forces of Vietnam’, Asian Defence Journal, 11/97, November 1997, p. 11. 153 Carlyle A. Thayer, ‘Vietnam: Developments of a military nature’, Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter, Vol. XXIII, No. 1, January 1997, p. 14. 154 ‘ASEAN and Indochina – Vietnamese Minister calls for more ships’, Asian Defence Journal, 4/96, April 1996, p. 218. 155 Thayer, ‘Force modernization’, p. 17. 156 Brooke, ‘The armed forces of Vietnam’, p. 12. 157 Captain Richard Sharpe, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1997–1998, Jane’s Information Group: Coulsdon, Surrey, 1997, p. 870. 158 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1997–1998, p. 870.

Notes   271 159 ‘BPS 500 (Project 12418) class FSGM’, Commodore Stephen Saunders, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2011–2012, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2011, p. 985. 160 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1999–2000, p. 870. 161 Micool Brooke, ‘Vietnam: Responding to the winds of change’, Asian Defence Journal, 2/2000, February 2000, p. 12. 162 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1999–2000, p. 867. 163 Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Vietnam off the ground’. 164 Grzegorz Holdanowicz, ‘Vietnam fulfils maritime patrol requirement at last’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 3 December 2003. http://www4.janes.com/htm (3 April 2006). 165 Grzegorz Holdanowicz, ‘Vietnam receives M28 maritime patrol aircraft’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 12 January 2005. http://www4.janes.com/htm (20 October 2005). 166 Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Vietnam off the ground’. 167 Joris Jansen Lok, ‘Submarine markets: Regional submarine program stalled’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 029, No. 007, 18 February 1998. http://www4.janes. com/htm (20 March 2006). 168 Sharpe, Jane’s Fighting Ships 1999–2000, p. 867. 169 ‘ASEAN: Vietnam – Navy interested in Kilo class submarines’, Asian Defence Journal, 10/98, October 1998, p. 65. 170 Ian Storey and Carlyle A.Thayer, ‘Scramble for Cam Ranh Bay as Russia prepares to leave’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, 1 December 2001. http://www4.janes. com/htm (24 April 2006). 171 Robert Karniol, ‘Vietnam looks to India for submarine training’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, 30 October 2002. http://www4.janes.com/htm (30 March 2006). 172 Brooke, ‘Vietnam: Responding to the winds of change’, p. 11. 173 Brooke, ‘Vietnam: Responding to the winds of change’, p. 11. 174 Robert Karniol, ‘Asia Pacific, Vietnam, Poland in hardware talks’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 031, No. 018, 5 May 1999. http://www4.janes.com/htm (23 March 2006). 175 ‘Tarantul class (Project 1241) 9FSGM’, Jane’s Fighting Ships, 12 April 2007. http://www4.janes.com/htm (5 November 2007). 176 Grzegorz Holdanowicz, ‘Vietnam shows interest in retired Polish corvettes’, Jane’s Navy International, 1 September 2005. http://http://www4.janes.com/ htm (20 September 2005). 177 Karniol, ‘Country briefing: Vietnam off the ground’. 178 ‘Procurement: Vietnam’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 2 February 2006. http://http://www4.janes.com/htm (2 March 2006). 179 Information provided by the Australian Defence Attaché to Hanoi, Capt John Griffith, RAN, in October 2007. 180 ‘Navy: Vietnam’, Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment: Southeast Asia, 6 June 2005. http://www4.janes.com/htm (10 October 2005). 181 Jacobs, ‘Vietnam’s changing naval forces’, p. 172. 182 Information provided by the Australian Defence Attaché to Hanoi, Capt John Griffith, RAN, in October 2007. 183 ‘Vietnam to have modern submarine brigade’, Vietnamnet, 4 August 2011. www.english.vietnamnet.vn/en/politics/11527 (12 January 2012). 184 Wendell Minnick, ‘Vietnam in talks to buy 4 SIGMA-­class corvettes’, Defense News, 10 November 2011. www.defensenews.com/story.php?i=8207359 (11 January 2012). 185 ‘Vietnamese navy selects Viking Series 400 Twin Otter for First Air Wing’, 5 April 2010. www.vikingair.com/content (12 January 2012).

272   Notes 186 ‘Vietnam takes delivery of its first Airbus C212–400’, Aviationnews.eu, 1 August 2011. www.aviationnews.eu/2011/08/01 (12 January 2012). 187 ‘Procurement: Vietnam’. 12  Postscript: navies and the future 1 Stuart Kaye, Maritime Claims in the Indian and Pacific Oceans, Sea Power Centre-­ Australia, Canberra, 2011. The book lists the disputed claims by country. 2 James Goldrick, No Easy Answers: The Development of the Navies of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, Lancer, New Delhi, 1997, p. 202.

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276   Bibliography Karnow, Stanley, Vietnam: A History, Penguin, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1983. Katari, Admiral R.D., A Sailor Remembers, Lancer, New Delhi, 1979. Kaye, Stuart, Maritime Claims in the Indian and Pacific Oceans, Sea Power Centre-­ Australia, Canberra, 2011. Kerkvliet, B.J., The Huk Rebellion: A Study of Peasant Revolt in the Philippines, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1977. Kessler, Richard J., ‘Development and the military: Role of the Philippine military in development’, J. Soedjati Djiwando and Yong Mun Cheong, eds, Soldiers and Stability in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1988. Koburger, Charles W. Jr, Naval Expeditions: The French Return to Indochina, 1945–1946, Praeger, Westport, CT, 1997. Koburger, Charles W. Jr, The French Navy in Indo-­China: Riverine and Coastal Forces 1945–1954, Praeger, New York, 1991. Leake, David Jr, Brunei: The Modern Southeast-­Asian Islamic Sultanate, McFarland, ­Jefferson, North Carolina, 1989. Leifer, Michael, Indonesia’s Foreign Policy, Royal Institute for International Affairs, George Allen and Unwin, London, 1983. LePoer, Barbara Leitch, Singapore: A Country Study, US Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 1991. LePoer, Barbara Leitch, Thailand: A Country Study, Department of the Army, United States Government, Washington, D.C., 1989. Lim Joo-­jock, ‘How Singapore sees the Vietnam threat’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1982, Peter Isaacson, Prahran, Vic., 1982. Lockhard, Greg, Nation at Arms: The Origin of the People’s Army of Vietnam, Allen and Unwin, North Sydney, 1989. Mak, J.N., ‘Malaysia’s naval and strategic priorities: Charting a new course’, Ross Babbage and Sam Bateman, eds, Maritime Change: Issues for Asia, Allen and Unwin, St. Leonards, NSW, 1993. Mak, J.N., Sovereignty in ASEAN and the Problem of Maritime Cooperation in the South China Sea, S. Rajanatnam School of International Studies, Singapore, 23 April 2008. Mak, J.N., The Indian Navy: Kuala Lumpur’s Friend or Foe? Publication details unknown. Malik, Adam, In the Service of the Republic, Gunung Agung, Singapore, 1980. Marolda, Edward J. and Oscar P. Fitzgerald, The United States Navy and the Vietnam Conflict. Vol. II: From Military Assistance to Combat 1959–1965, Washington, D.C., Naval Historical Center, 1986. Maynard, Harold W., ‘The role of the Indonesian armed forces’, Edward E. Olsen and Stephen Jurika, eds, The Armed Forces in Contemporary Asian Societies, Westview Press, Boulder, CO, 1986. McMurtrie, Francis E., ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1944/5, reprint, David and Charles Reprints, Newton Abbot, Devon, 1971. McMurtrie, Francis E., ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1947–48, Sampson Low, Marston, London, 1948. Miranda, Felipe B. and Ruben F. Ciron, ‘The Philippines: Defence expenditures, threat perceptions and the role of the United States’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1987. Moore, Captain John, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1973–74, Sampson, Low, Marston, London, 1973.

Bibliography   277 Moore, Captain John, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1975–76 to 1981–82, Macdonald and Jane’s, London, 1975–1981. Moore, Captain John, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1983–84 and 1987–88, Jane’s Publishing Company, London, 1983 and 1987. Morris, Michael A., The Expansion of Third World Navies, Macmillan, London, 1987. Muthiah Alagappa, ‘Malaysia: From the Commonwealth umbrella to self-­reliance’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1987. Muthiah Alagappa, The National Security of Developing States: Lessons from Thailand, Institute of Strategic and International Studies (ISIS) Malaysia, Auburn House Publishing, Dover, Massachusetts, 1987. Navy: The Vital Force, Republic of Singapore Navy Official, Singapore, May 1992. O’Connell, D.P., The International Law of the Sea. Vol. I, edited by I.A. Shearer, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1982. Olsen, Edward E. and Stephen Jurika, eds, The Armed Forces in Contemporary Asian Societies, Westview Press, Boulder, CO, 1986. Pacific Defence Reporter Annual Reference Edition 1980–81, Peter Isaacson Publications, Prahran, Vic. 1980. Pakistan Navy History Section, Story of the Pakistan Navy 1947–1972, Pakistan Naval Headquarters, Islamabad, 1991. Philippines Navy Official, Philippine Navy: 94th Anniversary, June 1992. Pike, Douglas, PAVN: People’s Army of Vietnam, Presidio Press, Novato, CA, 1986. Republic of Singapore Navy, Onwards and Upwards: Celebrating 40 Years of the Navy, SNP International Publishing, Singapore, 2007. Ross, Russell R., ed., Cambodia: A Country Study, Library of Congress for the Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1990. Royal Malaysian Navy, Brown to Blue: 75 years of sacrifice, Royal Malaysian Navy, Kuala Lumpur, 2009. Royal Malaysian Navy, Serving the Nation: Royal Malaysian Navy, Ministry of Defence, Kuala Lumpur, 2004. Saunders, Commodore Stephen, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 2001–02 to 2010–11, (IHS) Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 2001–2010. Schofield, Clive and May Tan-­Mullins, ‘Maritime claims, conflicts and cooperation in the Gulf of Thailand’, Aldo Chircop, Scott Coffen-­Smout and Moira McConnell, eds, Ocean Yearbook 22, Martinus Nijhoff, Leiden, The Netherlands, 2008. Seekins, Donald M., ‘Historical setting’, Frederica M. Bunge, Burma: A Country Study, American University (for the Department of the Army), Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1983. Seekins, Donald M., ‘Historical setting’, Russell R. Ross, ed., Cambodia: A Country Study, Library of Congress for the Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1990. Selth, Andrew, The Burma Navy, Working Paper No. 313, Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University, Canberra, 1997. Selth, Andrew, Burma’s Armed Forces: Power without Glory, EastBridge Books, Norwalk, CT, 2002. Selth, Andrew, ‘Burma’s maritime strategy’, Jürgen Schwarz, Wilfred A. Herman and Hans-­Frank Seller, Maritime Strategies in Asia, White Lotus, Bangkok, 2002. Schwarz, Jürgen, Wilfred A Herman, and Hans-­Frank Seller, Maritime Strategies in Asia, White Lotus, Bangkok, 2002.

278   Bibliography Scott-­Moncrieff, Admiral Sir Alan (C-­in-C Far East), letter to Admiral the Earl Mountbatten of Burma (First Sea Lord), dated 17 July 1956, Mountbatten Papers, Hartley Library, University of Southampton. Sharpe, Captain Richard, RN, ed., Jane’s Fighting Ships 1989–90 to 2000–01, Jane’s Information Group, Coulsdon, Surrey, 1989–2000. Singapore 1966 Year Book of the Republic of Singapore, Government Printing Office, Singapore, 1966. Smith, Roger M., ‘Two papers on Philippine foreign policy’, Roger M. Smith and Mary F. Somers, Two Papers on Philippine Foreign Policy, Data Paper No. 38, Southeast Asia Program, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, 1959. Strategic Review 2002, Royal Government of Cambodia, Phnom Penh, 2002. Sukumbhand Paribatra, ‘Thailand: Defence spending and threat perceptions’, Chin Kin Wah, ed., Defence Spending in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1987. The Republic of Singapore Navy, Naval Archives, Singapore Government, 1988. Tatu, Frank, ‘National Security’, in Russell R. Ross, ed., Cambodia: A Country Study, Library of Congress for the Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 3rd edn, 1990. Thayer, Carlyle A., The Vietnamese People’s Army under Doi Moi, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 1994. ‘The Third Indo China War’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1978–9, PY Logistics and Holdings, Church Point, NSW, 1979. ‘The Year in Perspective’, Denis Warner, ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1978–79, PY Logistics and Holdings: Church Point, NSW, 1979. U.S. Treaties and Other International Agreements, Vol. 3, Part 3, No. 2529, US Government, Washington, D.C. van der Donckt, Charles, The Changing Naval Environment in Southeast Asia, Extra-­ Mural Paper No. 56, Operational Research and Analysis Establishment, Department of National Defence, Ottawa, Canada, November 1991. van der Kroef, Justus M., Indonesia since Sukarno, Asia Pacific Press, Singapore, 1971. ‘Vietnam and mainland South East Asia’, Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1980, Peter Isaacson Publications, Prahran, Vic., 1980. Virtual Information Center, Republic of Singapore Primer, 29 March 2001, updated 1 February 2002. ‘Visit of USS Petrel to Bangkok, February 1892’, US National Archives, Office of Naval Intelligence, RG 38 Entry 98, Box 1274 – Register 6765. Vo Nguyen Giap, People’s War: People’s Army, Foreign Languages Publishing House, Hanoi, 1961. Warner, Denis ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1977–78 and 1978–79, PY Logistics and Holdings: Church Point, NSW, 1978 and 1979. Warner, Denis ed., Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1982, Peter Isaacson, Prahran, Vic., 1982. Warner, Denis and Peter Young, eds, Pacific Defence Reporter Year Book 1980, Peter Isaacson, Prahran, Vic., 1980. Weatherbee, Donald E., ‘The United States and Indonesia’, Strategic Review, Vol. VIII, No. 4, Fall 1980. Will, Gerhard, ‘Vietnam’s Navy and naval strategy’, Jürgen Schwarz, Wilfried A. Herrmann and Hanns-­Frank Seller, Maritime Strategies in Asia, White Lotus Press, Bangkok, 2002.

Bibliography   279 Wilson, David A., Politics in Thailand, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, New York, 1962. Zakaria Haji Ahmad, ‘The military and development in Malaysia and Brunei, with a short survey on Singapore’, J. Soedjati Djiwandono and Yong Mun Cheong, eds, Soldiers and Stability in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1988. Ziegler, Philip, ed., Personal Diary of Admiral The Lord Louis Mountbatten, Supreme Allied Commander South-­East Asia 1943–46, Collins, London, 1988.

Journals Asian Defence and Diplomacy Asian Defence Journal Asian Defence Review Asian Security Asian Survey Asia-­Pacific Defence Reporter and Annual Reference Edition Contemporary Southeast Asia Defense & Foreign Affairs Far Eastern Economic Review International Defence Review Jane’s Amphibious and Special Forces Jane’s Country Risk Report Jane’s Defence Contracts Jane’s Defence Industry Jane’s Defence Weekly Jane’s Foreign Report Jane’s Helicopter Markets and Systems Jane’s Intelligence Digest Jane’s Intelligence Review Jane’s International Defence Review Jane’s Naval Construction and Retrofit Markets Jane’s Navy International Jane’s Sentinel Security Assessment–Southeast Asia Jane’s Underwater Warfare Systems Jane’s World Defence Industry Jane’s World Navies Malaya in History Military Technology Modern Asian Studies Naval Forces NAVINT Navy International Pacific Affairs Pacific Community Pacific Defence Reporter and Annual Reference Edition RSIS Commentaries RSN Navy News Shipping and Shipbuilding News Strategic Analysis

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Index

Entries in bold refer to key themes aircraft carrier 216; air forces 1; amphibious forces 213 armies 1; dominance 216 Asian Defence Journal 52; Asian Development bank loans to Burma 28; Asian financial crisis 3, 82, 105, 128, 146, 170 ASEAN 32, 36, 55, 74, 99, 141, 167, 174; merchant shipping 106, 141, 143, 144, 164, 165, 167, 174, 196, 202, 204, 213, 222n15, 223n20, n25, n31, n39, n41, 227n87, 228n130, 229n154, 232n78, n84, n87, n91,233n99, n100 ASW 3, 213; sensors 3; sonar 3; weapons 3 Australia 6 ,15 ,16 ,19; DCP aid to Cambodia 51, 54, 232n91; strategic basis paper 67 Army Staff College places for Burma 25; Fremantle class patrol boat 103; Navy aid to Burma 25; Navy technical aid to Cambodia 51 BAE Systems 20, 108, 172, 224n51, n52, 245n134; Bassac River 43, 178 Brunei 9, 13, 14, 78, 106, 111, 127, 131, 139, 141, 213, 215, 220, 244n103, 253n17; armed forces, Air Force 21, CN-235 patrol aircraft 17, fighter force 17, maritime air wing 17; Gurkha Regiment 15, 16; RBAF 15 economy: budgets 14, 21 external security: Defence White Paper 19, 21, 224n43; FPDA 15 foreign relations: Australia 15, 16, 19, 20 Britain 14, 16; protectorate 14; MOU 18; separation from 16; UK–Brunei

Agreement 16; China 19; France 15; Germany 21; Indonesia 16, 17, 21; confrontation 15; Malaysia 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 222n2, n5, n17; Sabah and Sarawak 14; New Zealand 15; Philippines 14, 19; Singapore 15, 16, 19, 21, 22, 222n2, n5, n16, n17, 223n41; US 9, 19, 223n28, n39; FMS 223n28 internal security 14, 18; counterinsurgency operations 14 maritime security EEZ 16, 17, 18, 20, 22; jurisdiction 18; offshore gas and oil 9, 14, 15, 19, 22; South China Sea 19, 22, 223n42; Spratly Islands 17, 19; territorial waters 14 personnel: pool 17, 20; loan 15; population 14 Brunei Navy 13; activities with other navies 16, 19; bilateral exercises 16 combat forces 15, 213; corvettes 17, 18, 20, 21, 22, 224n53; Darussalam class 21; Vigilance class 17; FAC 15, 223n26, n37; fast patrol craft 21; frigates 15; helicopters 18; landing craft 15, 19, 22; OPV 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 223n32, n34, 224n48, n50, n55, n56, n63, n64; patrol craft: Ijhtihad class 21, 224n62; Perwira class 16, 18; Waspada class 16, 17, 19; modernization 17; transfer to Indonesia 21 Special Combat Squadron 16 force structure and development 18, 19, 20, 22, 213, 215; force levels table 22; Hong Kong squadron 16; modernization 17, 213

Index   283 foreign relations: Malaysian Federation 14, 16; RSN 22 joint service 16, 18, 19 maritime operations: counterinsurgency 14; inshore 15, 16 operational capability 213, 223n19; ocean-going 19, 21; riverine transport 15, 16 organization Flotilla 15, 17; formation 18; River Division 16; reform 224n68, n69 personnel 15, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 224n46, n47; contractors 16, 20, 22; recruiting 17; strength 16; training 16, 17, 18, 20 shore infrastructure 18, 20; Muara base 16 technical matters 17 weapons: close-in-weapon system 18; surface to air missiles 18; surface-tosurface missiles 15, 18; Exocet 15, 17, 21; torpedoes 18 Burma, armed forces: Air Force: Britten Norman Islander 38; embarked helicopters 32; FH-227 patrol aircraft 32; arms embargo 32 Army 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 40, 41; dominance 28, 41; Military Region Commanders 32; Navy support 24; Defence Minister 28; Defence Services Academy 25; Defence Services Institute 26; military coup 30; Officers Training School 25; National Defence College 25; National Security Council 28; People’s Armed Forces 26 domestic politics: Anti-Fascist People’s Freedom League 26; Communist Party 23, 29; democracy 23; EU arms embargo 35; independence 23, 40; National League for Democracy 31; popular unrest 30; pro-democracy movement 37, 41 socialist state 27; SLORC 30, 31, 32, 33, 36, 41; socialism 26; SPDC 36, 41; Chairman Than Shwe 36; military dominated 36, 41 economy 23, 26, 28; budgets 28, Colombo Plan 26, corruption 33, defence spending 24, 28–9, 30; deterioration 26, 30, 31; growth 28; lesser developed country 30; nationalization 23; World Bank loans 28

external security: fears of US attack 38, 40 foreign relations: ASEAN membership 36; Australia 25, 29, 32; Britain 25, 28; China 26, 28, 29, 32, 33, 34, 35, 37, 38, 40, 41, 42, 215, 227n94, n99, 230n177, n178; India 33, 36, 38, 41, 42, 215, 229n160, n161, n162, 230n177; international sanctions 31; Israel 26; Japan 23, 24, 27, 32; Malaysia 29; Pakistan 34, 229n156; Singapore 27, 29, 33; Soviet Union 26; Thailand 29, 37, 38, 41; withdrawal of international aid 32 historical: support for Japan in WW2 23 humanitarian aid 40; Indian Ocean 32, 33, 41 internal security 41; counter-insurgency operations 24, 27, 30; Cyclone Nargis 38; drug trade 29; insurgency 23, 25, 26, 28, 29, 34, 41; isolationism 26 maritime security: Andaman Islands 38, 41; Andaman Sea 29, 37, 42; claims 34, 37; EEZ 35, 37, 40, 41; illegal fishing 41; offshore oil and gas platforms 38, 29, 37, 38, 40, 41; People’s Pearl and Fishery Corporation 31, 35; piracy 29; smuggling 29 President Ne Win 26, 28 prime ministers: Aung San 23; Maung Maung 30; Tan Shwe 31; U Nu 26 Burma Navy 212; activities with other navies 37, 38 combat forces: corvettes 25, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 41; Admirable class 35; Anawratha class 38; PCE 827 class 35; FAC and FAC-M 34: Houxin class 34; Frigates 24, 25, 29, 35, 38, 39, 41; Jianghu class 35; HDML 24, 25; helicopters 32; landing craft 24, 27, 28, 30; minesweepers 24, 25, 27, 31, 34; MTB/G 25; naval infantry 27; Nawarat class river gunboat 25, 35, 39; patrol craft: Carpentaria class 29, 31, 35; Hainan class 34, 35, 37, 40, 227n85, n105; Michao class 27; Myanmar class 35; Osprey class 25, 27, 29, 31, 34, 35, 40, 41; PB 90 class 34; Swift class 29, 35; Y-301 class river patrol craft 25, 27; submarines 27, 33, 34, 38, 40 Commanders-in-Chief: Vice Admiral Kyi Min 37; Vice Admiral Than Nyunt 37, 41

284   Index external and internal security demands 216 force structure and development 27, 39, 215; force levels table 39; losses in Cyclone Nargis 38; modernization 28; ships paying off 28 foreign support 24, Australia 225n6, n27, n28, n29; China 34, 35; India 28; US 24, 25, 26, 27, 29, 32, 40, 227n83; North Korea submarines 38; PLA-N 33, 36, 42; RN influence 31; RTN 37; Yugoslavia 25, 26, 27, 34, 40 funding allocation and problems 24, 25, 26, 28, 31, 33, 34, 36 historical: Burma Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve 24; Straits Settlements Patrol Service 24 joint service 28, 36, 38; logistic support deficiencies 28, 30, 36 maritime operations: counterinsurgency 24, 27, 30; counter piracy and illegal fishing 29; countersmuggling 29; hydrographic survey 24, 27, inshore and riverine 24, 25, 27, 31, 40, 41 maritime security: excessive Burmese claims 34; Indian Ocean 32, 33, 41 operational capability: ASW 27; development 31, 37, 40, 229n157; doctrine 35; from Yugoslavia 34; limitations 27, 34; maritime surveillance 32; minewarfare 24, 25, 27, 31, 34; ocean-going 40; seakeeping limitations 29 organization: naval regions: Arakan 32; Ayeyarwady (Rangoon) 37; Bassein 30; Danyawady (Sittwe) 37; Irrawaddy 31; Moulmein 30; Panmawady (Hainggyi Is) 37; Tenasserim 32; Strategic Naval Flotilla 30 personnel 25, 30, 31, 36, 37, 40, 41, 229n196; skills 26, 40; strength 31, 32, 36 training 25, 26, 34, 40, 41, 228n128, 229n156; warfare training in Pakistan 40 shore infrastructure 25, 28, 33, 36, 37, 40, 42; bases 25, 32, 33, 36, 38, 41, 42, 230n178, n179, Bassein 32, 36; Great Coco Island SIGINT Station 32-3, 36, 36, 37, 42; Hainggyi Island 36; Mergui 36; Monkey Point (Rangoon) 24, 31, 34, 36; Moulmein 32, 36; Seikkyi 31, 36; Sinmalaik 31; Sittwe 32, 36; Thanlyin training centre 32; upgrades 37; diving

school 30; training command Seikkyi 37 technical matters 25, 26, 30, 34, 38, 40, 42 weapons: mines 34; surface to surface missiles: C-801 34; C-802 35 Cambodia: approaches to Phnom Penh mined 47 armed forces: Army 43, 44, 48, 49, 52, 55, 58, 59; conscription 45, 49; KPRAF 49; military coup 46-7; military doctrine 49; military reforms 55; military reorganization 54; MNK 47; RCAF: relations with government 51 domestic politics: Cambodian People’s Party 53; FARK 44; FUNCINPEC 50-1, 53; independence 43, 44, 230n11; Khmer Republic 47; King Sihanouk 43, 44, 45, 46, 50, 51 economy 50, 55, 56; budgets 49, 52, 53, 55, 59, 234n141; corruption 53; defence budget 52, 55, 57; money laundering 51; need for financial assistance 55 external security: Defence White Papers 54, 232n91; Defending the Kingdom of Cambodia 2000 54; Defending the Kingdom of Cambodia 2006 57; incursions and invasion by Vietnam 46, 47, 48, 141; Strategic Review 2002 55, 233n112, n113, n115 foreign relations: Australia 53, 57; China 46, 47, 48, 49, 55, 56, 57, 233n121; disputes with Vietnam and Thailand 53, 54; France 43, 44, 45, 53, 55; India 55; Indonesia 53, 55; Iran 53, 232n96, Japan 43; Malaysia 51, 52, 55, 232n84, n87 North Vietnam: alliance 46; UN protectorate 50; UNTAC 50; Viet Cong 46 Philippines 47, 53; Singapore 55; South Korea 48, 55; South Vietnam 45, 47, 48; Soviet Union 46, 49, 50, 51, 52; US 53, 55, 56-7, 58; bombing 47; MAAG 45 Thailand 43, 44, 47, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 58, 59, 231n65, n66, 233n98, n99; MOU for joint resource development 54; Vietnam 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58, 59, 230n11, 233n127, 234n140; Agreement on Historic Waters of Vietnam and Kampuchea 50; Yugoslavia 45, 47, 48

Index   285 internal security 44, 45; Communist insurgency 44, 47, 48; counterinsurgency operations 52; drug and people trafficking 53, 56; illegal immigration 157; insurgency 45, 49; Khmer Rouge 46, 47, 48, 49, 51, 231n41, n42, n43; martial law 44; massacre of Vietnamese civilians 47; refugees 50; terrorism 55, 56, 58; waterways 43 limited administrative capacity 59 maritime security 43, 45, 53, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59; coastal surveillance radar 55; CSI 59; delimitation of boundary with Thailand 53; Department of Fisheries 53; Gulf of Thailand 43, 50, 58, 231n65, n66, 233n98; illegal fishing 51, 53, 54, 56; IMO 59; marine police 53, 56; oil exploration and platforms 54, 57, 58; piracy and Poulo Panjang to Vietnam 50; Phu Quoc to Vietnam 48, 50; Poulo Wei 50 PSI 59; SUA Convention 59; territorial waters 45, 54, 56, 57 Minister for National Defence GEN Tea Banh 52; Paris Conference 1991 50; Phnom Penh 47, 48, 58, 190; Prime Ministers: Hun Sen 48, 50, 52, 53, 54, 58, 231n53; King Sihanouk 44, Lon Nol 46, Prince Norodom Rannaridh 50, 52 operational capability limitations 55 Sihanoukville 46, 53, 56, 57, 58, 190; Tonle Sap 49 Cambodia Navy 13, 43, 44, 212; activities with other navies 55 Chevron-Texaco 56 Chief of Naval Operations or Commander: CDRE Vong Sarendy 46,CDR Pierre Coedés 45, 46; LTGEN Nhiek Tioulong 46; RADM Ung Kim Khan 52; VADM Ung San Khann 52 combat forces: corvettes 47; FAC 49; Stenka class 49, 50, 51, 52, 54; Turya class 49, 50, 51; fast patrol craft 52; helicopters 48; landing craft 44, 45, 46, 47, 56, 58, 233n125; T4 class 49; marine corps 44; patrol craft 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58, 59, 233n121, n127; Chinese 56, 233n121, n126; Kaoh class 52; PBR 47, 49; PGM 70 45; Shanghai class 56, 233n122; Shmel class 49, 51; Swift class 47, 48, 49; Type 101 48; Yulin class 49; Zhuk class 51; submarine chasers 44

torpedo boats 45, 58; MTB 58 Deputy Chief of Staff 57; escape of ships from Khmer Rouge 47 fisheries inspection vessels 53 force structure and development 45, 46, 59, 60; force level table 58; modernization 52, 56 foreign support: Australia 51, 53, 54, 55, 57, 230n1, 232n78, n91; Malaysia 52; ship visits 56, 57; Soviet Union 46, 49, 50, 51, 52; US 44, 45, 46, 47, 53, 55, 56, 57, 58; Vietnam 56; Yugoslavia 45, 47, 48 funding allocation and problems 46, 55, 56, 57, 59, 60; funds criticality 7 joint service 47, 50, 51, 54, 58, 233n101, n102, 234n140 logistic support 51 maritime operations: counterinsurgency 52 counter-smuggling 53, 55, 56, 63; employment 52, 53, 55, 57; inshore and riverine operations 45, 47, 49, 51, 55; Mayaguez incident 47, 48, 197, 231n41, n42, n43, n44; sinking of gunboat 50, 231n67; surveillance and response 52 maritime security 49, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 230n1, 232n92, n93, n94, 233n118, n120, 234n131, 135, n138, n142, n143, n144, n145 operational capability 45, 50, 51, 52, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60; amphibious 44, 58 organization 44, 45 personnel 51, 53; strength 51, 52, 56, 46, 48, 53, 56, 59, 234n129; reform 53, 54; shore infrastructure 49, 55, 60 technical capacity and challenges 40, 48, 49, 51, 52, 53, 55, 58 China 5, 9; access to Burmese ports 42; access to Indian Ocean 32; activities in the South China Sea 128, 131, 205; arms supplies to Burma 32, 33, 34; bans fishing in South China Sea 205; claims to South China Sea 81, 125, 204, 215; complaint at Vietnamese Blue Dragon development 204; contract to Crestone Corporation 204; defence infrastructure in Burma 32, 33, 37; diplomatic presence in Burma 26; end of support for Burma insurgency 29; Indian concern over Burma 33; influence in Burma 32, 33. 38, 41-2; military assistance to Cambodia 55; military involvement

286   Index in Burma 32, 34; nuclear submarines in Indian Ocean 33; PLA-N 12; regional strength 214; radar station in Burma 37; SIGINT Station in Burma 32–3 coast guard 9; roles 9 coastal defence 12; coastal surveillance 15 confrontation at sea 219; China, Vietnam, the Philippines, the US 219; Indonesia and Malaysia 219 cooperation at sea: limited history 219; MALSINDO 219, 221 defence budgets 2, 10, 216, 217, 218; defence of sea communication 9; diversified equipment sourcing 212 East Asia trade routes 214; East Germany 5, 217; economic development 214, 218 electronic warfare 3; Europe trade routes 214; EEZ 7, 9, 12, 16, 20; oil and gas platforms 9, 16 exercises: Apex 147; Balikatan 130; Bersatu Padu 97; CARAT 19, 88, 130, 170; Cobra Gold 170, 203, 269n119; Eagle 12/92 147; Fusion Canoe 05-2 56, 234n128; Lejon Simba 144; Lion King later Simbex 144, 148; Lumbas 130, 251n105; Malapura 106, 141; Malindo 98, 106, Milan 2006, 2010 38; Pacific Reach 203; Pagsasama 05 133; Pelican 19, 78, 141, Sea Gull 01-03 19; Setia Kawan II 19; Seacat 131; Sea Cobra 164; Sea Garuda 164; Seagull 01-03 130; Sealion 127; Sea Philtha 164; Starfish 99; Talon Vision 130, 251n103; Thai-Sing 141, 164; Thalay 164 external threats 8, 213, 218, ‘eyes in the sky’ air patrols 88, 111, 150 FAC 3; fire control systems 3; FPDA 15; force structure and development 7-8, 214, 220; ambitions and capacity 216; balance 8; force mix 7; France 2, 12; joint operations demands 221; lack of consistency 217; logistics and personnel problems 217; Malaysia 9; navy 12, opportunistic acquisition 217; rational acquisition 219; Vietnam 9, 213 force projection 13 frigates 3, 4, 5

funding priorities and problems 212, 215, 216, 217, 218, 220, 221; transparency 217 Great Britain 2, 6, 7, 12, 14; MOU with Brunei 18; Burma 23 GDP 2 Grove, Eric: The Future of Sea Power 12 Gulf of Thailand 43, 50, 58; Gulf War 1991 10 hegemon 8; hierarchy of South-East Asian navies 220; helicopters 214; Hong Kong 15; hydrographic survey 214 incidents at sea regimes 220 independence movements 5; Burma 23, 40; Cambodia 43, 44; East Timor 83; Philippines, Mindanao 121; Singapore 137, 138; Vietnam 177, 195, 230n11 India 1, 2, 7, 12, 214, 215, 272n1, n2; concern at China activity in Burma 33; offer of assistance to TNI-AL 79 Indian Navy 13; build-up 78, 214; on China’s role in Burma 42; possible patrols in South China Sea 202; submarine training for Malaysia 105 Indian Ocean 10, 215 Indonesia 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 219, 220 armed forces: ABRI 72; dual function of the military 81, 82; military coup 63, 71; Progressive-Revolutionary Officers’ Movement 71 Air Force 75; Army 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 70, 71, 72, 73, 75, 82, 83, 85, 87, 90, 236n49, n53, n55, n56, n57, n58, 237n85; KODAM territorial military commands 77; KOSTRAD 72; regional commands 73; Supreme Command for the Liberation of West Irian 67 Admiral Widodo Ali Sujipto 83, 238n128 Celebes 63, 65; Confrontation 68, 70, 72; Dutch-Indonesia round table 61, 62 domestic politics: Communist Party 67, 70, 72; independence 61, 62, 63, 68 economy 70, 221; Asian financial crisis 82; budgets 70, 73, 74, 86, 87, 234n1, 237n102; Five Year Plans, Repelita 73, 74, 75; FMS 75; foreign debt 76; rupiah devaluation 76

Index   287 external security 72, East Timor 75, 82, 83; Guam doctrine 75; Indo-Pakistan War 1965 65, 71, 236n54; Renstra Hakam Defence-Security Strategic Plan 73 foreign relations: Australia 63, 65, 67, 74, 78, 80, 82, 83, 85, 235n21, n34, 238n123; Britain 64, 67; Brunei 16, 78; Cambodia 53, 55; China 75, 81, 238n105; Germany 63, 64, 75, 77, 79; India 63, 68, 71, 78, 79, 80, 237n90, n101; Malaysia 68, 69, 70, 74, 78, 81, 85, 88, 90, 240n178, n179; Malaysian Federation 69; Netherlands 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 67, 68, 69, 75, 76, 77, 80, 84; Pakistan 71, 72, 236n54; the Philippines 74; Singapore 70, 74, 78, 81, 88, 90, 235n36, 238n119, n120, 240n171; South Korea 75, 76, 84, 87, 239n136; South Vietnam 99; Soviet Union 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 73, 64, 235n28, 236n42; Sweden 64; US 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 74, 75, 83, 84, 86, 88, 90 General Nasution 63, 66; General Wiranto 82, 83, 238n128 historical: rebellion 62, 63, 65 internal security 62, 72, 80, 81, 88, 90, 91, ‘Free Aceh’ movement 81, 88; infiltration 67; separatism 82; terrorism 88 law of the sea convention 65, 75; archipelagic claims and waters 65, 71, 75, 78, 80, 86, 214, 219; closure of Sunda and Lombok Straits 78; EEZ 76, 81; hot pursuit 81; Lombok Strait 65, 71, 78; territorial waters 65 maritime security: Andaman Islands 71; Andaman Sea 78; claims and disputes 71, 78, 81; illegal fishing 83, 90; invasion force 70; Lombok and Sunda Straits 71, 77, 78, 214; offshore oil and gas 9, 81, 83; piracy 81, 88, 90, 91; multilateral cooperation 81; Natuna Islands 80, 81, 83, 238n122; nonalignment 63, 64; RMSI 88, 219; South China Sea 75, 78, 81; Spratly Islands 237n91; Strait of Malacca 78, 81 Presidents: Abdurrahman Wahid 82, 83; Habibie 76, 79, 82; Suharto 67, 72, 73, 74, 76, 79, 82, 83, 90, 91, 234n2, 236n63, 237n87, n89; Sukarno 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 138, 235n19, 236n62 Surabaya 63, 66, 70, 71, 74, 76, 77, 80, 84, 86

West New Guinea or Irian Jaya 64, 65, 67, 68 Indonesian Navy 4, 13, 154; academy 63; activities with other navies 63, 74, 78, 83; air support 68; ALRI renamed TNI-AL 73 combat forces: aircraft carrier 67, 69, 70, 71; Claude Jones class destroyer escorts 74, 80, 84; corvettes 63, 65, 79, 83, 84, 86, 87, 89, 235n20, 239n146, 240n161; Parchim class 83; cruiser 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 69, 89, 167, 235n20, 236n40; Sverdlov class 69; East German ships 79, 80, 217; FAC 75; fast patrol craft 77; frigates 63, 65, 67, 68, 69, 70, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 83, 89, 235n20, 237n82; Fatahillah class 80; Riga class 69, 70, 74; Tribal class 77, 78; Van Speijk or Achmad Yani class 77, 78, 80, 83; Jaguar class MTB 67, 68; KKO 62, 63, 68, 70, 72, 73, 74, 80, 87; Komar class FAC 69, 71, 74; landing craft 61, 62, 73; landing ships 67, 75, 76, 79, 89; LST 67; mine countermeasures forces 61, 62, 64, 74, 79, 80, 235n20; Tripartite minehunters 79; minelayer 235n20; minesweepers: Bathurst class 65; coastal 74, 79, 235n20; Kondor II class 80; patrol boats: PB-57 74, 78, 80, 86, 87, 239n147; Attack class 74; seaward defence vessels 61; Skory class destroyers 65, 66, 69 submarines 8, 62, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 73, 74, 75, 76, 79, 80, 82, 84, 87, 89, 105, 235n20, 238n104, 239n137, n138, n139, n141, n142; Type 206 82; Type 209 75, 79, 80, 84, 216, 238n105; Whiskey class 65, 69, 74; submarine chasers 64, 65, 66, 67, 235n20; support ships 79; torpedo boats 64, 71, 235n20 Commanders in Chief and Chiefs of Staff: Admiral Bernard Kent Sondakh 83; Rear Admiral Muljadi 72, 73; loss of cabinet rank 73, Rear Admiral Nazir 61, 62; Subijacto 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, Rear Admiral Sudomo 66, 67, 68, 73, 74; Lieutenant Colonel Martadinata 64, 66, 67, 69, 70, 71, 72 Commodore Jos Sudarso deputy commander 66, 67; concern at Indian Navy activities 78 deployment to Natuna Islands 82; external and internal security demands 216

288   Index Fleet Air Arm 64; CN-235 maritime patrol aircraft 80, 84; Gannet ASW aircraft 64; helicopters 80; Lynx 80; Wasp 80; Nomad maritime patrol aircraft 80, 85; Tu-16 Badger bomber 69 force structure and development 62, 68, 79, 83, 86, 215, 220; development plan 1980 76; fleet reductions 73; force level table 89; modernization 77, 79; surface combatant needs 77 foreign support: Australia 63, 74, 80, 82, 85; Germany 63, 64, 75, 77, 79; Poland 65, 66; RTN 87; Soviet Union 4, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 73, 74, 235n28, 236n42; USN 64, 67, 74, 88, 236n72; Yugoslavia 64, 76 funding allocation and problems 70, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 83, 84, 86, 87, 90, 91; invasion of East Timor 75, 71; joint service 73, 76, 77, 78, 82 logistic support 69; munitions shortages 62; tropicalization of equipment 66, 91 Major General Hartono 70, 72, 73 maritime operations: Timor Gap patrols 82, 238n123 maritime security 81, 83, 85, 88, 90, 239n150, n151, 240n175, n176; accusation of piracy 126; anti-piracy operations 88; arms smuggling 61; coastal protection 84, 85; countersmuggling 63; SLOC security 215 mutiny 66, 71; officer purges 72, 74 operational capability 83, 213; amphibious operations 70, 87, 88, 213; ASW 64, 69, 74; sealift capability 81, 84; surveillance and response 81; underway replenishment 79 Panglima 61, 86 Personnel 66, 69, 73, 74, 79; strength 68, 80, 83, 86; training 7, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 69, 70, 74, 75, 76, 78, 83, 87 shore infrastructure 80; bases 80, 86, 87; Surabaya 74, 84, 86; Teluk Ratai 77, 78, 79 support for Sukarno 72; technological development and challenges 66, 90; training uncertainty factor 8, 79; western fleet 77, 86 weapons: air to surface missiles 69; surface-to-air missiles 69; Exocet 75, 87, SS-N-2 70, 87; torpedoes 68 industrial base 4; infrastructure 2, 4, 6,

7, 8, 11; inshore and riverine operations 12, 13, 212, 220; internal security 1, 212, 213, 216; international law 9; maritime jurisdiction 9; international trade: sea communications 9; Iran–Iraq War 10; Iraqi Navy 104; Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force 12 Joint operations immaturity of, 216 Kra isthmus 36 Language 4; LOSC i, 1, 9, 34, 78, 163, 164; maritime boundaries 9 logistics 11, 212, 218; maintenance facilities 218 Lombok Strait 214 Malacca Strait 10 Malaysia 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 13, 212, 213, 215, 216, 217, 219, 220, 14 armed forces: Army 95, 97, 99, 112, 114; Rapid Deployment Force Battalion 109 RMAF 105, 113, 244n94; maritime patrol aircraft: Beechcraft B 200T 105, 244n94; PC-130 105; Tornado fighter ground attack aircraft 102 Boustead Holdings 107, 114 economy 100, 104, 105, 113; budgets 96, 101, 105, 113; Five Year Plans 99, 101, 102, 103, 108; global financial crisis 113, ; Seventh Malaysian Plan 107,Tenth Malaysian Plan 109 external security: Confrontation with Indonesia 94, 95, 96; fear of Thailand falling 99; forward defence 101; FPDA 96, 97, 99, 106 force structure and development: Auditor General and the OPV project 107, 108; contract for submarines with DCN 110, 112; Plan Perista 99, 100; Public Accounts Committee and OPV project 107 foreign relations: Australia 93, 96, 99, 103; Britain 92, 93, 96, 102, 103; Brunei 16, 106, 111, 244n103; China 99, 101, 106, 242n59, 244n104; France 92, 102, 104, 110, 246n144; Germany 92, 100, 102, 107, 110; India 101, 105, 242n41, n61; Indonesia 94, 96, 98, 105, 106, 111, 246n151, n152; Japan 92, 93, 98,

Index   289 106, 244n110; Netherlands 102; New Zealand 93, 96; Pakistan 105; Philippines 98, 101, 106, 111, 244n104; Singapore 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 105, 107, 111, 241n13, n23, n24, 244n113, 246n154; South Korea 104, 109, 245n136; South Vietnam 99; Soviet Union 99, 101, Sweden 99, 102, 104; US 101, 111 humanitarian operations 109, 112; Indian Ocean 93 internal security 97, 101; British withdrawal 96; Communist insurgency 93, 94, 96, 136; infiltration 96; Official Secrets Act 1978 99; refugees 99; Royal Malaysian Police 103 joint activities 113, 114; Joint Force Command and Headquarters 111, 113, Malaysia–Australia OPV design 103; Malaysia–Brunei maritime security commission 106; Malaysia–Philippines maritime security commission 106, 244n102; multilateral cooperation 106 law of the sea 99; EEZ 92, 100, 111, 112, 113; hot pursuit 98; territorial waters 94, 98, 113 Malaysian Federation 93, 94, 95, 96 maritime security: Ambalat offshore resource disputes 111; Bukit Pengerang surveillance facility 106; coast guard 100, 112; Customs and Excise Force 103; defence of sea communications 94, 96, 100, 103, 106; Investigator Shoal 106; Layang Layang Reef 101; disputes: with Indonesia and Thailand 106, 111; with Brunei and the Philippines 111; fishing rights 101; Gulf of Aden anti-piracy patrols 111, 113; illegal fishing 101; International Court of Justice rulings: Batu Puteh or Pedra Branca, Middle Rocks and South Ledge 111; Sipadan and Ligitan 111; Lloyds Joint War Council 88, 111; Mantanani Reef 101; multilateral meeting on South China Sea claims 19; offshore resource protection 106, 112, 117; piracy 98, 99, 106, 111, 112, 113; Sabah coastal surveillance radars 111; smuggling 94, 98; South China Sea 98, 99, 101, 106, 107, 245n121; Spratly Islands 99, 100, 101, 111, 242n56, n60, 244n104; Strait of Malacca 106, 111; Singapore Strait 106 Port Klang 93, 110, 137; Port Swettenham 93, 137

Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman 93, 137 Sabah 94, 98, 100, 102, 107; Sarawak 94, 100 Syed Hamid Albar Minister for Defence 104, 243n81; Sulu Sea 119; technically skilled workforce 108; technology transfer 104; Tun Abdul Razak Minister for Defence 94, 95; Tunku Abdul Rahman Prime Minister 93; Ubi reef 101; UN Special Naval Task Force in Somalia 106, Malaysia Navy 3, 5, 7, 13, 212; activities with other navies 93, 98, 99, 106, 244n111,AMS joint venture of BAE Systems and Finmeccanica 108, combat forces: corvettes 100, 103, 104, 108, 115, 116, 243n91, 245n131; Kasturi class FS 1500 100, 104, 116; Laksamana class 104, 108, 116, 217; MEKO 100 class 103; FAC and FAC-M 95, 97, 99, 103; La Combattante class 97, 116; Perkasa class 97; Ford class seaward defence vessels 93; frigates 95, 96, 98, 99, 102, 103, 104, 108, 111, 114, 115, 116, 243n87, n88, n89, n90, 244n92, 245n132, n133; Jebat class 245n133; Lekiu class 104, 108, 111; cancellation 108; Loch class 95 landing craft 93; landing ships 115; LPH 109, 245n136; LST 99, 104, 109, 245n135; Newport County class 104; mine countermeasures forces 94, 95, 96, 98, 99, 100, 103, 109, minesweepers 93, 94, 95, 96, 98; coastal 95; Ham class 96; Mustyari class 94; MSI 93; Ton class 96, 98, 100; minehunters 100, 116; Mahamiru class 100, 108, 116; minelayer 93; missile craft 15; MTB 235n20; patrol boats 95, 102, 103 OPV 100, 103, 104, 107, 108, 112, 114, 116, 217, 243n85, 245n127, n130; Kedah class 107, 114, 245n126, n131; patrol craft: Handalan class patrol craft 116; fast patrol craft 93, 95, 97, 100; Kedah class 95, 96, 114; Kris class 96 SDML 93, 94; submarines 92, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 107, 109, 110, 114, 115, 116, 216, 244n98, 246n142, n143, n144, n145, n146, n147, n148 n149, n150, 247n175; Agosta 70 class submarine 110; Moray class 109 Scorpene class 110, 114, 246n147, 247n178; Tunku Abdul Rahman defects

290   Index 110; simulator 110; Zvaardvis class 109, 110; support ships 100, 109, 245n137 Commanders and Chiefs of Staff 108, 111; Admiral Datuk Ilyas Hj Din 110; Captain H.E.H. Nicholls RN 93; Captain W.J Dovers RAN 94, 241n11, n14; Commodore Karalasingam Thanabalasingam 96, 98, 100; Rear Admiral Mohammed Zain bin Mohammed Saleh 100; Vice Admiral Abdul Wahab bin Haji Nawi 101, 242n62 external security: clandestine operations 93, 95; low level contingencies 8 Fleet Air Arm 102; aircraft carrier 109; Helicopters 101, 102, 103, 105, 109, 113; Aerospatiale Fennec helicopters 105; Lynx 102, 105, 109, 112; Wasp 102, 103, 105; Super Lynx 300 105, 109, 112; STOVL aircraft 109 force structure and development 92, 94, 97, 109, 213; Expansion and Modernization Program 102; force levels table 115; modernization 102, 116; obsolescence 98, 100; operational concept 100; operational requirements 104; plans: Dynamo 95; Maiden 94, 95 foreign relations: Australia 94, 96, 103, 105, 110, 243n75; Britain RN 93, 94, 95, 96, 105; France 92, 102, 104, 110, 246n144; Germany 92, 100, 107, 110; PLA-N 101, 242n58; reliance on foreign industry 114; RSN 106; RTN 98; South Africa 108; US 101, 104, 109, 110; Turkish Navy submarine training 105 funding allocation and problems 92, 100, 102, 107, 109, 112, 113, 114, 116, 217, 247n174 historical: MNF 93; MRNVR 92, 93, 94; RN(MS) 92, 93; SSRNVR 92; SWANS 93 joint service 98, 103, 105, 111, 113, 114, 244n110, n113, 113, 96 logistic support 104, 105, 116, 243n85; Boustead and DCN joint venture for submarine maintenance 114; MTU Services and D’Acquarian ship maintenance contract 114 internal security: anti-insurgency 94; counter-terrorism 214; Malayan Emergency 93 maritime operations: anti-piracy operations 98, 111, 112, 113, 244n110, 246n159; Bunga Mas Lima anti-piracy deployment to Somalia 112,

maritime security 92, 100, 101, 105, 106, 111, 112, 113, 246n157, 247n168, n170; anti-smuggling 94, 98; coastal defence 94, 97; exchange of fire with PLA-N 101; freeing of Bunga Laurel 112; incidents at sea pact with Indonesia 106; inshore and riverine operations 97, 103 MMEA 92, 112, 113, 247n165; formation 112; personnel strength 113; regional bases at Langkawi, Johor Bahru, Kuantan, Kota Kinabalu and Kuching 113; ships and aircraft strength 112, 113; operational responsibility 112-13 operational capability 101; air warfare 114, 116; amphibious 95, 101, 104, 109, 244n93, 246n162, n163; anti-surface warfare 96, 97, 109; ASW 93, 101, 105, 109, 114, 116, 119, 246n141; hydrographic survey 98, 112; oceangoing capability 100; sealift 109 organization: Deputy Chief of Staff (Navy) 94; Fleet Operations Centre 98; Fleet Operations Command 106; National Hydrography Centre 106, 107; Naval Education and Training Command 106; Naval Reserve Command 106; Naval Support Command 106 personnel 93, 94, 95, 112; strength 95, 98, 100, 113, 114; training 93, 94, 97, 98, 102, 104, 105, 110, 116 shore infrastructure 106, 108; bases 107, 113; KD Pelandok Recruit Training Establishment 97; Kota Kinabalu 102, 107; Kuantan 98, 113; Labuan 101, 108; Lumut fleet base 97, 98, 104, 107, 109, 113; proposed bases at Langkawi and Sejingcat 107, 113; Tanjung Pengelih training base 107 Teluk Sepanggar naval base Sandakan Bay 107, 110, 114; submarine facilities 114; Woodlands 93, 94, 95, 97, 107, 235n119 technological development and challenges 97, 101, 104, 110, 113, 116 weapons: Evolved Sea Sparrow missile 108; Exocet 97, 99; mines 95; Seacat surface-to-air missile 96, 103; surface-tosurface missiles 97; torpedoes 95 manpower 4; marine police 10; maritime boundaries and claims 215, 219, 272n1

Index   291 maritime combat capability 212; maritime confidence and security building 220 maritime environment oil spills 10; maritime patrol aircraft 214; maritime security 3, 212, 214, 219, 221; maritime terrorism 214, 215; Mekong River 43, 160, 177, 178, 181, 183, 185, 190, 191; MAAG 7; military coup 216; mine warfare forces 214; Morris, Michael 12 national development 5; Singapore model 219; naval aviation 213; combat-capable helicopters 213; navies: super-national approach 7; cooperation 7; classification 12–13; need for sustained support 212; Netherlands 2; Navy (RNLN) 5; New Zealand 6; Non-Aligned Movement: Burma’s role in establishing 26; North Vietnam Navy 5 obsolescence 212; operational capability 212, 221; OPV 5, 217; offshore resources 215, 219; organizational challenges 221, Panglima 61, 86, 93, 95, 137; Pakistan xi, 272n1; Navy submarine training for Malaysia 105; patrol craft 214; the ‘strategic patrol boat’ 221; Persian Gulf 214 personnel: conditions of service 218; demand 219; numbers 11, 16, 17, 19, 20, 22; expertise 11; quality 218; retention challenges 11, 218, 221; piracy 214; power projection 213 Philippines 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 13, 212, 216, 219, 220; armed forces 119, 120, 123, 124, 125, 128, 131; Air Force: Fokker F27 maritime patrol aircraft 123; Islander maritime patrol aircraft 131; Armed Forces Modernization Bill 126; reorganization 124; Army 118, 119, 122, 124, 129, 131, 133; bases 118, 120, 122, 125; martial law 122; signals intelligence unit 131; special forces 131 Chiefs of the Armed Forces Staff General Dionisio Santiago 130; General Fabian Ver 124; General Fidel Ramos 124

Congress Representative Roilo Golez 129; Department of Transport and Communications 129 economy 117, 119, 124, 129, 133; Asian financial crisis 128; budgets 120, 122, 124, 130, 131, 132, 133, 251n107, 252n120, n133; corruption in equipment procurement 132; FMS 123; global financial crisis 133 Emilio Aguinaldo revolutionary leader 117 external security 119, 123, 126, 129, 132, 216; claim over North Borneo 121; fall of South Vietnam 122, 123; Guam doctrine 122; non-NATO ally status 130; Presidential decree on Spratly Islands 1978 121; SEATO 119, 120, 248n15 foreign relations: Australia 130; Britain 129, 135; Brunei 127, 131; China 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 130, 132, 133, 250n85, 252n129, n130, 251n95, n105, France 123; Indonesia 98, 126, 131; Japan 118, 120, 122, 129; Malaysia 106, 121, 127, 128, 131, 132; Sabah 98, 121, 248n27; Singapore 127, 131; South Korea 122, 123, 127, 250n72; Soviet presence in Cam Ranh Bay 122; Vietnam 123, 133; Taiwan 132 US 117, 118, 123, 127, 130, 135; defence umbrella 117, 122; JUSMAG 118; Military Assistance to the Philippines Act 118; Military Bases and Military Assistance Agreements 118, 123; Mutual Defence Treaty 118; Subic Bay naval base 118, 122, 125, 126; VFA 127; withdrawal 125, 144; Soviet Union 122 Malacca Straits Council 98; Malaysian Federation 121; South Korea 127 General Santos City 133; government complacency 117; humanitarian operations 129 internal security 119, 121, 122, 124, 129, 131, 132, 216, 252n121, n127; Abu Sayyaf Group 131; bombing of Superferry 14 131; civil affairs 119; counterinsurgency operations 119, 122, 126, 133; counter-terrorism 130, 131, 214; Hukbalahap rebellion 119, 247n5; insurgency 117, 119, 121, 123, 126, 133; internal subversion 119, 123; Mindanao Independence Movement 121; Moros 121, 123; Muslims 121; Task Force

292   Index Stingray 131; terrorism 117, 121, 130, 131, 132 Kalayaan Island 121, 132, 132-3 maritime security 129, 131, 132, 135; Archipelagic Baseline Law 132; archipelagic claims 120, 121, 132, 133; claims 135; Coast Guard 121, 126, 129, 130; accusation of piracy 126; Declaration on the Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea 130; EEZ 123, 124, 125; Erica Reef occupation by Malaysia 128; illegal fishing 118, 124, 125–6, 132; internal waters 121, 125; Investigator Shoal 128; law of the sea 120, 248n26, n28; Mischief or Panganiban Reef 125, 126, 128, 250n85; multilateral meeting on South China Sea claims 19; offshore resource protection 117, 127; Palawan island 121, 128, 131; piracy 126, 131, 132, 133, 249n58, n59, n60; Scarborough Shoal 128, 130, 132–3; seabed mineral rights 121; seismic exploration with China 132; smuggling 118, 119, 120, 123; South China Sea 122, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 130, 132, 135, 249n57, 250n81, 251n97, n98, 252n128, n134; sovereignty protection 117, 126, 127; Spratly Islands 121, 122, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 132, 248n24, n25, 249n53,n55, n56, n63, 250n74, n75, n78, n79, n82, n87; Sulu Sea 119, 121; surveillance capability 123; Mindanao 121, 122, 132, Orlando Mercado Secretary of Defence 128 Presidents Corazon Aquino 124, 251n92; Ferdinand Marcos 117, 122, 123, 124; Fidel Ramos 124, 126, 128, 249n64; Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo 130, 132, 133; Joseph Estrada 128, 129, 130; Ramon Magsaysay 119 self-reliance 123, 126; Senator Benigno Aquino 251n92; SIPRI 132 Philippines Navy 3, 7, 9, 14, 119, 212 activities with other navies 120, 127, 130, 131, 248n15; South-East Asia Cooperation Against Terrorism exercise 131 bases 120; Cavite 124, 126; Cebu 126, 250n65 collisions with and sinking of Chinese vessels 128 combat forces: ASW ships and aircraft

119, 129; command ship 120; corvettes 124, 127, 130, 133, 134; Jacinto classPeacock class in RN service 127, 129, 130, 131, 251n110, n111; missile-armed corvettes 127; DE 120, 122; FAC 120, 123, 124; frigates 122, 123, 124, 125, 129, 133, 134, 250n89; Hamilton class cutters 133; landing craft 118, 122, 132; landing ships 120, 122, 134; LCU 132; LST 512–1152 class 124, 125, 128, 132, 248n12; Marine Corps 119, 121, 122, 123, 129; mine countermeasures forces 119, 120, 127, 129; MTBs 118; patrol craft 118, 120, 122, 123, 124, 127, 129, 132, 135, 250n71; Cyclone class 131; San Juan class 129; fast patrol craft 124, 131, 133; missile-armed 127, 132, 133; Point class cutters 129, 130; SAR craft 127, 129; seaplane tenders 122; seaward defence vessels 120; submarines 123, 135; support ships 120, 124, 135; surface combatants 129; torpedo boats 118 Fleet Review 19 force structure and development: age of major units 117, 123, 124, 133; captured Spanish vessels 117; DERA upgrade study for Jacinto class 129; development problems 3, 125, 129; OPV 127, 131, 132, 135; equipment needs and procurement 126, 129, 131, 132, 133, 135; force levels 134; Jacinto class upgrades 131; Knox and Perry class frigates availability for transfer 129; loss of Datu Kalantiaw and Leyte 123; modernization 117, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 135, 215, 251n108, 252n122, n123, n124, n132; Modernization Act 124; transfer of USN ships 118, 122 foreign support: Australia 120, 124, 129; China 124; France 123; Japan 122; RSN 127; South Korea 122, 133; Spain 123, 124 US 117, 118, 119, 120, 122, 124, 126, 129; USCG 117, 129, 133; USMC 130; USN 117, 118, 119, 120, 125, 127, 129, 130, 131, 132, 215, 248n15 Flag Officers in Command Rear Admiral Mariano Dumancas 124, 125, 249n45, n51, n61; Vice-Admiral Pama 135, funding allocation and problems 117, 120, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126-7, 127, 128,

Index   293 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 135, 217, 251n90, n100, 252n122, n123, n124 internal security: counter-insurgency 119, 122, 123, 126, 133; joint service 118; interoperability 130 logistic support 118; floating docks 127 maritime operations: grounding of Lanao del Norte 132; grounding of LSTs on Ayungin Reef 128; inshore and riverine operations 125, 129 maritime security: anti-piracy operations 126, 133; anti-smuggling 118, 120, 123; coast guard duties 118, 129; confrontation with PLA-N 125; confrontation with Chinese-flagged ships 126, 130; fortification of Spratly Islands 121; South China Sea operations 125, 126, 128, 130, 132 naval air arm 123; helicopters 132, 135; maritime patrol aircraft 132 operational capability 117, 119, 123, 125, 126, 131, 132, 135; amphibious 120, 129, 132, 213; anti-air warfare 135; deterioration 123, 124, 125, 130, 133, 135; ocean-going capability 117, 120, 122, 125; sealift 122, 132, 135; surface warfare 135; surveillance 117 organization: FOIC 124, 125; naval districts 124; OSP 118; PNP 118, 119 personnel: strength 119, 122, 128; training 131 support operations 123; technical proficiency 119; training problems 4 weapons: surface-to-air missiles 127 surface-to-surface missiles 123, 127; Otomat 123 piracy 10 radar 3 RAN 25, 74, 94, 103, 144, 164, 230n1, 241n11, n22, 267n41, 271n179, n182; first bilateral exercise with PN and Coast Guard 130; personnel challenges 218; submarine training for Malaysia 105, refugees 10; relations with major powers 215; Royal Navy (Britain) 6, 13, 15; fishery protection 9; Flag Officer Sea Training 20; Hong Kong Squadron 127 Royal Netherlands Navy 5, 62, 63 Sabah 14; Sarawak 14; Seacat surface-to-

air missile 4; sea control 3, 212, 213; sea denial 3, 212; SLOC security 10, 13, 214, 215; Second World War 1; Seventh Fleet 125 Shipbuilding 2; ADI Australia 206; Ansaldos, Italy 63, 65; Ba Son Shipyard 206, 208; Blohm and Voss 103; Boustead 107, 114, 118, 245n131; Burma 35 China, 166; quality control 166; Damen Schelde Naval Shipbuilding 209; DCN International 109–10, 114; Hanjin Heavy Industries and Construction 109; Hong Leong, Malaysia 51, 52, 98; HDW 110; Hyundai 206; Italy 104; Kockums 170; PSC Naval Dockyard Lumut 104, 107, 108, 109; Labuan Shipbuilding and Engineering 108; Lürssen Werft 21, 77, 97, 98, 142, 274n62; Moss Marine 132; Navantia–formerly Izar 110; PT PAL, Indonesia 5, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 84, 87, 199; Philippines 123, 124; RDM Submarines 109, 170; Rosvoorouzhenie 170; Singapore Shipbuilding and Marine 5, 15, 139, 143, 148, 162, 173; Sinmalaik Burma 27, 35; slowness 5; Tenix 129 Thailand 163, 164, 165, 166, 172, 174; Bangkok Dock 162, 172 Transfield, Australia 19, 103; Ukraine 203; Vosper Thorneycroft , UK 18, 165; Yarrow UK 18, 96 Ships by name: Admiral Senyavin Soviet 69; Afiat RBN 21; Alugoro TNI-AL 71; Anawhrata UBN 35, 38; Archer RSN 149; Anthong 173; Aung Zeya UBN 38; Bangpakong RTN 159; Bedok RSN 143; Bendahara Sakam RBN 20; Benguet PN 125, 128; Benjamin Stoddert USN 198; Berkat RBN 21; Bunga Laurel 112; Bunga Mas Lima RMN 112; Cakra TNI-AL 79, 80, 84; Chakri Nareubet 109, 169, 170, 172; Constellation USN 194; Coontz USN 194; Courageous RSN 149; Dallas ex-USCG to PN 135; Darulaman RBN 21; Darulehsan RBN 21; Darussalam RBN 21; Datu Kalantiaw PN 123; Delhi IN 63; Dhonburi RTN 155, 160; Eilath Israel 139; Endeavour RSN 145, 150; Endurance RSN 140, 142, 145, 149, 150; Essex USN 58, 29, 31; Fearless

294   Index RSN 143; Formidable (RSN) 148; Gadja Mada TNI-AL 62, 66; Green Rover to TNI-AL 79; Gregorio del Pilar PN 135; Hang Jebat RMN renamed Rahmat 96, 98, 103, 243n79; Hancock USN 194; Hang Tuah RMN 95, 98, 99, 103, 112; Hang Tuah TNI-AL 65; Hang Tuah RMN 95, 98, 99, 103, 112; HQ-01–ex USN to PAVN 198; Ijhtihad RBN 21; Irian TNI-AL-ex Ordzhonikidze Soviet 69, 70, 73; Jebat RMN 104; Jerambak RBN 20; Jupiter RSN 140; Kallang RSN 143; Karel Doorman RNLN 67; Kedah RMN 107; Kelantan RMN 108; Khamronsin RTN 158; Kittyhawk USN 150; Krabi RTN 174; Laburnum RSN 137; Lambung Mangkurat TNI-AL 79; Lamotte-Piquet FN 155; Lanao del Norte PN 132; Lekiu RMN 104, 111; Leyte PN 123; Lynde McCormick USN 198; Ly Thoung Kiet SVN 192; Maddox USN 194; Maeklong RTN 165; Mahawangsa RMN 106; Makut Rajakumarn RTN 4, 162; Matjan Tumul TNI-AL 68; Mayaguez US 47, 48, 197, 231n41, n42, n43, n44; Mayu UBN – Mayu–ex Fal RN 24, 24; Mercury RSN 140; Minsk USSR 163; Musta’ed RBN 21; Naga Banda to TNI-AL 82; Naga Rangsong to TNI-AL 82; Nakhoda Ragam RBN 20; Negros Oriental PN 120; Nhut Tao SVN 192; Pahang RMN 107, 112; Pahlawan RBN 14, 15; Panglima RMN 93, 95, 137; Perseverance RSN 143; Persistence RSN 150; Pinklao RTN 160; Prasae RTN 158, 159; Rahmat (RMN) 4, 98, 103; Rajah Humabon PN 125; Rajah Soliman PN 120; Rakut Rajakumarn RTN 161; Resolution RSN 145, 150; Rogers USN 194; Sawunggaling TNIAL 66; Sea Wolf RSN 139; Selangor RMN 108; Serasa (RBN) 19; Sierra Madre PN 128; Similan RTN 174; Sri Ayuthia RTN 155, 158; Sri Inderapura RMN 104, 106; destroyed by fire 109, 112; Sri Perak RMN 100; Superferry 14 131; Swordsman RSN 149; Syafaat RBN 21; Tachin RTN 156, 159, 160; Teraban RBN 19; Townsville RAN 57; Tran Binh Trong SVN 192; Tunku Abdul Rahman RMN 110; Tun Razak RMN 110; Turner Joy USN 194, 198; Tuy Dong SVN 183; Victorious RN 71;

Yan Ghi Aung (ex USS Creddock) UBN 27; Yan Lon Aung, UBN 30; Yan Myo Aung UBN 31; Yan Taing Aung UBN 27–ex Farmington USN; Yulin PLA-N 203; Zhenghe PLA-N 57, 234n129 Singapore 2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 13, 15, 16, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 219, 220 armed forces: conscription 138, 153, ‘poisonous shrimp’ doctrine 138; research and development 152; SAF 140, 141; SAF 2000 Study 145; unmanned aerial vehicles 152; Air Force 136, 138, 141, 143, 121 Squadron 142; E-2C Hawkeye AEW&C aircraft 142, 143; integrated air defence system 139 maritime patrol aircraft: Fokker 50 143; Skyvan 142; Army 138, 139, 142; rapid reaction force 139 defence self-reliance 139, 141 economy: Asian financial crisis 146; strength 145, 152; budgets 136, 140, 141, 143; defence spending 2; global financial crisis 152 external security: British withdrawal 138; Confrontation with Indonesia 137, 138; lack of strategic depth 138, 147; NATO 146; South China Sea 142, 143; Soviet presence in Cam Ranh Bay 141; threats 141, 146 foreign relations: arms supply to Burma 33; ASEAN military links 144,Australia 141; Britain 137, 138; Brunei 139, 141, 253n17; China 140; France 148; FPDA 141; Germany 139, 142, 144; India 144, 148, 255n85; Indonesia 137, 138, 141, 147, 150; international security cooperation 147, 150, 153; Israel 138; Japan 137, 142, 150; Malaysia 136, 137, 138, 141, 144, 147, 150, 253n8, n10, n13, n15, n17, n24, n29, n31, 254n41; New Zealand 136, 139; Sweden 143, 144, 145, 146; USN aircraft carriers 150 historical: British Colonial Office 136; Combined Operations Committee 138; independence 137, 138; Malayan Emergency 136; Malaysian Federation 136, 137 humanitarian operations 150 internal security 150; counter-terrorism 150; insurgency 136; terrorist attacks: in the US 150; capacity to respond 215

Index   295 infrastructure 143; international trade 147 maritime security: boundaries 147, ‘eyes in the sky’ air patrols 150; IndoChinese refugees 140; Indonesia– Singapore Coordinated Patrols Agreement 147, 150; inter-agency maritime security exercise Apex 147; Malsindo Malacca Strait Coordinated Patrols 150; maritime domain awareness 151; Maritime Port Authority 151; Maritime Security Task Force 151; piracy 147, 150, 255n82; Police Coast Guard 147, 151; protection of shipping 136, 141, 144, 145, 147; ReCAAP Information Sharing Centre 150; refugees 140; Singapore Maritime Security Centre 151; smuggling 138; Strait of Malacca security conference 147 organization: Defence Science and Technology Agency 148; Joint Defence Council 138; Ministry of Interior and Defence Integrated Command 138; Multinational Operations and Exercise Centre 151 Phillip Channel 147; Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew 137, 138 Strait of Malacca 142, 143, 147, 150; warship building capacity 139, 142, 148 Singapore Navy 14, 212, 220; ASW 136, 137, 142, 143, 144, 148; activities with other navies 141, 143, 144, 147, 148, 149, 150, 255n92; WPNS 149, 150; WPNS MCM exercise 149 Chief of Navy Rear Admiral Lui Tuck Yew 152 combat forces: corvettes 142, 143, 145, 146, 151, 152; Victory class 142, 143, 146 embarked helicopters 144, 145, 148, 150; S-70B Seahawk 148; FAC and FAC-M 139, 140; Sea Wolf class FAC-M 141, 144, 148; frigates 142, 144, 148, 149, 151, 152, 250n89; Formidable class 148; Lafayette class 148, 152; guided missile destroyers 167; gunboats 140; landing craft 145; LCT 143; landing ships 140, 144, 151; LST 140, 145, 150; Sir Lancelot class LSL 143; mine countermeasures forces: coastal minesweepers 140; minehunters 144; Landsort class 143; missile-armed craft

139, 140, 143, 145, 152; patrol craft 139, 141, 143, 145; Fearless class 143, 145, 151; Swift class 147; fast patrol craft 139, 141; seaward defence vessels 137, 143 submarines 144, 149, 151; adaptation for tropical service 145, 148, 149; air independent propulsion 149; Sjöormen class 145, 148; submarine rescue system 149, 150; submarine training 144, 146; submarine warfare 136; Västergötland class 149; support ships 145; force structure and development 139, 140, 148; capability development 144, 145, 152; combat systems development 143; force levels table 151; modernization 142, 145, 149, 152, 153; most advanced regional navy 212; new operational concepts 152; Project Albatross for missile gunboats 141; upgrades 142, foreign support: Australia 137, 144; Britain 137; France 148; Germany 139, 142, 144; Indian Navy 148; Israel 139; Japan 150; New Zealand 137, 138, 139; RMN 136, 137, 138; RTN 141; South Korea 150; Soviet Union 141; Sweden 143, 144, 145, 146, 149; US 140, 144, 150 funding 136, 140, 141, 144, 152 historical: disbandment of naval forces 136; MNF 137; MRNVR 136, 137; RMNVR 137; RN base Terror 137, 140; RN Far East Fleet 137; RN (MS) 136; SNVF 138; SSRNVR 136; SWANS 137 internal security: communist insurgency 136; sovereignty protection 136, 145 interoperability 143; logistic support 149, 152; Malayan Emergency 136, 137 maritime operations: Courageous collision with merchant ship 149; deployments: East Timor 149; Persian Gulf 150; Iraqi oil terminal protection 150; South Yemen, Sri Lanka, Thailand 140; extended deployments 146, 150; first global circumnavigation 149; inshore and riverine operations 140, 146, 147; tsunamyi response 150, maritime security 137, 145, 147, 150, 151, 153, 256n93; ASSeTs 151; countersmuggling 138; illegal fishing 138; Operation Thunderstorm 140, 141; Singapore Strait 138, 141, 143, 147, 150; shipping data analysis 151; SLOC

296   Index strategy 141, 143, 147; surveillance and response 145, 147, 151 operational capability: amphibious 140, 141, 143, 145, 149, 152, 256n103; antisurface warfare 144; area air defence 148; coastal defence 136, 139; hullmounted sonar 143; maritime strike 142, 143; mine countermeasures forces 136, 140, 143, 144, 149, 152; oceangoing capability 146; sealift 143; support of ground forces 140 organization 180 Squadron formation 151; Coastal Command 147, 151 command and control 136, 141, 142, 148, 150, 152; Changi command and control centre 151; Commands 145; First Flotilla 145; Information Fusion Centre 151; ReMIX situational awareness tool 150; School of Maritime Training 139, 140; School of Naval Training 140; Sea Defence Command 139, 140; sea riding team 149; Third Flotilla 145 personnel: challenges 145, 153; minimum-manning 148; strength 137, 142, 152; training 137, 139, 140, 143-4, 145, 146, 149, 152; seamanship 137; technical 140, 152, 153 shore infrastructure 146, 152; bases 138, 140, 144; berthing for USN carriers 150; Changi 143, 145, 150; Keppel Harbour 140; Pulau Belakang Mati now Sentosa 139, Pulau Brani 140, 143, 145; Telok Ayer Basin 139; Tuas 143, 151; Woodlands 137 technological development and challenges 142, 146, 148, 151, 152, 220, 256n107 weapons: surface-to-air missiles Aster 148; Barak 148; Mistral 143; surface-tosurface missiles 139; Gabriel 139, 140; Harpoon 142 Smuggling 10; South China Sea 9, 214, 215, 219, 220, 221; Declaration on the Conduct of the Parties 220; Soviet Union 2, 4, 5, 7, 12; in Cam Ranh Bay 141 Spratly Islands 9; Sunda Strait 214; Surface combatant forces 213, 214 surface to air missiles: Seacat 4; surface to surface missiles 3; C-801 34; C-802 35; Exocet 4, 15; SS-12 15, 97; SS-N-2 70, 87, 197, 198; statistics limitations

11; Straits of Malacca and Singapore 214, 219; submarines 1, 3, 8, 213, 214, 215; associated challenges 216; coordination of operating areas 220; operating environment 219, Surabaya 5 technically skilled workforce 4; technical matters 3, 4, 6, 221; complexity 3-4 terrorism 214 Thailand 2, 3, 5, 6, 13; armed forces 10; Air Force 156, 158, 164, 166, 167; F-16 fighter 165, 167; integrated air defence system 167; military coup 154, 157, 159, 162, 173; surface and air units 167, 176; Army 154, 156, 157, 158, 160, 161, 162, 163, 166, 172, 174; East Timor 171 domestic politics: anti-Communism 156; constitutional coup 154, 157; concern over Communist China 159; conscription 168, 174; constitutional monarchy 154; Democrat Party Group 157, 158; government instability 157, 174; Khuang Aphiawong 158; parliamentary government 154; revolt 157, 158 economy 156, 157, 160, 165, 166, 173; budgets 154, 157, 158, 165, 166, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 258n55, 261n136, 262n147, n148; Economic and Security sub-committee 163; FMS 172, 261n129; National Economic and Social Development Board 162; secret funds 10 external security 160, 162, 163, 168, 174; defence in depth 163, 166; Defence White Papers 169, 173; French Indo-China 155; Guam or Nixon doctrine 161; Indo-China conflict 160, 161; invasion fears 165; Malayan Emergency 160, 161; Manila Pact 159; SEATO 159, 160, 164; self-reliance 162; Soviets in Cam Ranh Bay 162; Soviet submarines 159; tensions with neighbours 164; Thai-Vietnamese rivalry 161, 162, 163; Vietnamese invasion of and withdrawal from Cambodia 162, 165, 168 foreign relations: Australia 165, 258n52; Britain 155, 156; Burma 162; ThaiBurma Border Fisheries Coordination Centre 38; Cambodia 161, 162;

Index   297 recognition of independence 44; China 157, 159, 165, 166, 169, 171, 261n126; France 154, 155; Germany 164, 170, 172; India 156, 163, 171, 174, 176, 258n41, 260n118; Indonesia 154, 165, 167, 171, 261n122, 173; Italy 155, 156, 162; Japan 155, 156, 160, 166, 256n6, 261n139; Laos 161; Malaysia 164, 168, 171, 173, 258n40, 259n92, 260n110, 261n122; Singapore 162, 171, 173, 258n39, 261n122; South Korea 164, 171, 173, 261n121; South Vietnam 161, 162; Soviet Union 157, 159, 162, 163; Sri Lanka 171; Sweden 154, 170, 261n125; US 156, 158, 160, 164, 171; MAG 160; major US non-NATO ally status 171 General Phao Siyanon 157 historical: anti-Japanese movement 156; Lord Louis Mountbatten 156; Second World War 155; support for Korean War 158, 159 industrial capacity 160 internal security 154, 157; counterinsurgency operations 163; insurgency 159, 160, 161, 165, 166, 171; Malay– Thai border 160, 173; loyalty of Chinese community 159; Ministry of the Interior 157; Muslim separatists 161; national stability doctrine 165 Police 157, 158; marine wing 158, 166 territorial integrity 159, 161 law of the sea 161, 163; hot pursuit 171; territorial waters 171 maritime security: Andaman Sea 168, 169, 171, 176, 158, 159, 161, 165; arms smuggling to Indonesia 61, 260n118; boundary disputes 161, 162, 168, 176; EEZ 162, 163, 169; coast guard 157; fishing industry 162, 164, 168; Gulf of Siam now Thailand 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 168, 169, 176; illegal immigration 157, 158; Indian Ocean 163, 174, 176, 258n41; Mekong River 160 offshore oil and gas: development 162, 168; protection 162, 163, 176; piracy 161, 164, 171, 174, 262n149; refugees 161, 165; seizure of fishing vessels by Burma and Malaysia 168; SLOCs 176; smuggling and anti-smuggling 157, 158, 168, 171, 260n118; Strait of Malacca 162, 163; coordinated patrols 171; Thai–Vietnamese patrol craft exchange of fire 168

naval aviation wing: Fokker F 27 maritime patrol aircraft 164 Prime Ministers: Chavalit Yongchaiyudh 168; Field Marshal Phibunsongkram 157, 158; General Kriangsak Chomanan 162 ship repair and building capacity 162; South China Sea 163; technology transfer 171 Thai Navy 3, 4, 11, 13, 212, 216; activities with other navies 160, 164, 170, 171; WPNS minewarfare exercise 171 Chief of Navy Admiral Prajet Siridej 168 combat forces: A-7 Corsair II attack aircraft 167; aircraft carrier 163, 167, 169, 170, 172, 174, 175, 176, 216, 259n81, n86, 260n101, n102, n105, n106, n107; coastal defence vessels 154, 155; corvettes 154, 156, 157, 158, 159, 164, 165, 167, 175, 176, 258n58; Flower class 156, 158; local build 167; Khamrosin class local build 165 cruiser 155, 167; destroyer escort 160; destroyers local build 167; escorts 156, 159; FAC-M 162; frigates 159, 161, 163, 164, 166, 167, 169, 172, 173, 175, 176, 260n96, n98; Descubierta class 164; Chao Phraya class 166; Naresuan class 166, 172; Tacoma class 159; gunboats 154; hydrographic survey ship 172; Kilo class submarines 170; landing craft 156, 160, 161, 171, 176; landing ships 164, 165, 175; LPD helicopter capable 167, 173, 176; Marine Corps 157, 158, 159, 161, 166, 167, 171, 257n20, n25; armour 168; mine countermeasures forces 157, 160, 162, 163, 166, 176; minehunters 164, 166, 269n99; minesweepers 156, 157, 158, 160, 166; Algerine class 156; coastal 157, 160; minelayers 155, 158; missile-armed craft 164 patrol boats 160, 161, 164, 172, 173, 176, 180; Tor-991 class 173; river gunboats 160; sloops 155; submarines 3, 105, 155, 156, 157, 158, 160, 163, 165, 167, 170, 171, 172, 173, 216; A-19 Gotland class 170; domestic opposition to 174; local build 165, 166; Romeo class 166; training 170; Type 206 173; Type 209 170; Walrus class 170

298   Index submarine chasers 157; support ships 158, 176; surface combatants 163, 165, 176 domestic politics 154, 155, 156, 158, 159, 162; abduction of Marshal Phibunsongkram 158; purge of officers 157, 158; rehabilitation of the Navy 159; ships disarmed 158 external security 157; Malayan Emergency 161; Vietnamese naval development 162 force structure and development 154, 155, 156, 159, 164, 166, 167, 168, 169, 174, 213, 213; force levels table 175; modernization 154, 155, 171; obsolescence 160 foreign relations: Australia 169; Britain 156; China 166; Denmark 154; European technical assistance 166; France 148, 154; Germany 164, 170, 172, 173; India 156, 202; international naval cooperation 157; Italy 155, 160; Japan 155, 166; Netherlands 164; PLA-N 171; PN 164; RAN 164; RMN 164, 170; RSN 164; Soviet Union 157, 158, ; Sweden 154; TNI-AL 164; UK 154, 164; US 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 166, 256n10, 257n24; USN 159, 160, 164, 167, 169, 170, 260n98; Vietnam 168 funding allocation and problems 155, 157, 158, 159, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 167, 168, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 176, 258n55, 260n98, 261n136; commercial activities 159; financial complexity 154, 171 historical: French Navy attack on Ko Chang 155; grounding of Prasae in Korea 158; Helldiver bomber aircraft 157; Imperial Japanese Navy 155; Ko Chang anchorage 155; losses in action against the French Navy 155; loss to Allied air strike 156; loss of support from Japan 155; torpedo boats 155, 158, 160 internal security 154; counterinsurgency 163; counter-terrorism 214 joint service activity 163, 168, 160, 171; support for the Army 157; Thai-Indian naval patrols 171; Thai–Vietnamese naval patrols 168 logistic support 154, 160, 163, 170, 172, 174; maintenance 154 maritime operations: anti-piracy operations 171, 174, 262n149; clashes

with Burma Navy 37; countersmuggling 157, 158, 168, 171; deployments: East Timor 171; Indian Ocean anti-piracy 174; deployment to Somalia 171; Training Squadron 165; Vietnam 161; disaster relief 167; Fleet Review 160; inshore and riverine 156, 157, 160, 161, 176; Marine Corps operations Thai–Cambodian border 168 maritime security 161, 168, 261n122; arms smuggling 260n118; coastal defence 155, 158, 167, 168; loss of responsibility for inshore antismuggling 157; protection of eastern seaboard 155, 156, 166, 167, 258n60, 259n69; seaborne trade 168 naval air wing 155, 157, 158, 160, 163, 164; Naval Aviation Division 167; fighter and strike aircraft 163, 164, 166, 167; Firefly FR 1 fighter-reconnaissance aircraft 157; helicopters 158, 169, 172, 174, 176, 260n104, 261n128; Lynx 172, 261n128; MH-60S 172; Seahawk 176; Westland Super Lynx 300 172, 261n128; sonar 172 maritime patrol aircraft 163, 176; Fokker F 27 164; Nomad 169; P-3 Orion 167; S-2 Tracker 160, 167; STOVL aircraft 167, 169, 170, 174; Harrier – Matador in RTN service 167, 169, 170, 172, 176, 260n109 operational capability: amphibious 160, 163, 166, 167, 168, 176, 261n137; antisurface ship warfare 172; ASW 158, 160, 165, 169, 172, 176, 257n31; limitations 156, 158, 159, 168, 170, 174, 176; OPV 172, 173, 174, 176, 213, 262n146 maritime power projection 167; reconnaissance 155; seagoing capability 155, 157, 160; sensors 166; surface warfare 161, 162, 165; surveillance 160, 164, 174; technological development and challenges 154, 166, 171; underway replenishment 176 organization 203 Squadron 172; Air and Coastal Defence Command 168; C-in-C 11, 165; First Fleet at Sattahip 168; Second Fleet at Songkhla 168; Third Fleet at Phang Nha 168; twoocean force 168 personnel 165, 168, 172; personnel strength and shortages 155, 158, 159, 161, 167; training 4, 7, 168, 174, 213; operational 157

Index   299 shore infrastructure 160, 163, 174; bases 176; Phang Nha 162; Phuket 168; Sattahip 155, 159, 162, 168; Utapao Naval Air Station 172 weapons: lightweight torpedoes 164; Phalanx close-in-weapon system 170 surface-to-air missiles: Mistral 170; NATO Sea Sparrow 170; surface-tosurface missiles 169; Exocet 162, 257n37; Gabriel 162; Harpoon 164; torpedoes 164, 261n145 The Military Balance 10 South Vietnam 2, 6; Armed Forces: Air Force 185; Chief of Staff General Le Van Ty 182; Joint General Staff 179; military coup 185; Army 177, 178, 179, 181, 182, 184, 185, 186, 187, 262n1, n2; Bassac River 178; Can Tho River 178 domestic politics: civil war 181; Communist Party 177, 180, 181, 191; government legitimacy 177; independence 177, 178; Indo-Chinese Communist Party 177; political instability 185 economy: budgets 179; corruption 177; defence budget 179 external security: clashes with Chinese forces 192, ‘delta war’ 179; Dien Bien Phu 177, 180; evacuation of US and Vietnamese 192; guerrilla warfare 177; Hoa Hao insurgents 183, 184; Ho Chi Minh 177, 181; infiltration 186, 188; insurgency 184; limits on arms 180, mass migration 180; mobile warfare 177; Tet Offensive 188, 189; Viet Cong 185, 187, 189, 190, 191; Viet Minh 177, 180; Vietnamese Agreement, division of the country 180; Vietnamization of the War 189, 191 foreign relations: Cambodia 180, 183, 184, 186, 188, 190, 191; China 180, 183, 192, 266n13; Democratic Republic of Vietnam 177, 181, 187, 192; France: re-occupation 177; Franco-Vietnamese Agreement and High Committee 177, 180, 181; Paris ceasefire agreement 191; Geneva Conference 180; Japan 177, 182, 186; Philippines 192; Singapore 83; Soviet Union 180; US 180; ACTOV 189; loss of US support 192; MAAG 180, 181, 184, 187, 189; Subic Bay naval base 182, 183; US and French Advisory

Training Mission 181; USN Seventh Fleet 186, withdrawal from Vietnam 189, 191; Taiwan 183 Heads of Government: Bao Dai 178; President and Prime Minister Ngo Dinh Diem 181, ousted 185 maritime security: Gulf of Siam now Thailand 184, 186, 190; Paracel Islands 183, 186, Red and Mekong Rivers 177; Spratly Island occupation 183; territorial waters 187 Second World War 177 South Vietnamese Navy: Army domination 179, 183 combat forces: armoured river craft ex-French and Japanese 177; coast guard cutters from the US 191; corvettes 178; destroyers 178; destroyer escorts 182, 191; dinassaut 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184, 262n17; gunboats 178; escorts 178, 179, 180, 187; frigates 191, 192, 197, 198; hydrographic survey ship 184; junks 186, 188, 189, 191, 192; landing craft 178, 184, 185; landing ships 180; LCM 185; LCU 185, 189; LCM 181; LCVP 185; LSIL 183, 189; LSSL 180, 189; LSM 180, 182, 183; LST 182, 187; Marine Corps 180, 181, 182, 187, 263n56; maritime patrol aircraft 182 minesweepers 178, 180, 181, 182; coastal 160; MLMS 189; YMS-Type 178, naval infantry 180; RAG 185, 191; RAID assault craft 191; seaplanes 178, 179; support craft 180; support ships 180; Yabuta class motorized junks 186 Commanders in Chief or Chiefs of Naval Operations 187, Brigadier General Tran Van Dong 181; Captain Tran Van Chon 188; Lieutenant Commander Ho Tan Quyen 184, murder 185; Lieutenant Commander Le Quang My 181; deployments 183 external security: opposition to Vietnamese Navy 178 foreign relations: France 178, 179, 180; FN 177, 178; Admiral Auboyneau, Commander FNEO 180; ex-British LCA, LCI, LCT 178, river flotillas 178; opposed to US aid 178, directing Vietnamese Navy development 178, 182, transfer of equipment 183; Japan 182; US 178, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184,

300   Index 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 262n4, n5, n13, n14, n18, n19, 263n22, n35, n37, n38; language difficulties 182, 185, 186 force structure and development plans 179, 180, 181, 182 funding allocation and problems 181, 183, 187, 191; corruption 184 internal security: sabotage operations 186 joint service operations 179, 182, 186 leadership 184, 185, 189, 191; factions 185, 188; Lieutenant Commander Ho Tan Quyen 184; Lieutenant Commander Le Quang My 181 logistic support 183; maintenance problems 182, 185, 186, 187, 189, 192 maritime operations: blockade 184; counter-infiltration operations 186, 187, 188, 189; inshore and riverine 186, 188, 191; Mekong Delta operations 178, 181, 183, 185, 190, 191; missions 183, 185; open ocean operations 186; Market Time 188, 189, 191; SEALORDS 190, 191; Task Force 116 ‘Game Warden’ 188; withdrawal with refugees to Philippines and Guam 192 maritime security: seizure of fishing craft 184 operational capability: amphibious 180, 181, 182, 184, 185, 187, 188, 191; coastal radar network 191; coastal surveillance 179; communications 186; effectiveness 183, 185, 187, 188, 191; losses in clash with Chinese forces 192; riverine 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 188, 191, 262n6, n7, n8, n9; sea-going 178, 181 paramilitary junk force 179,patrol boats 179, 180, 181, 182, 185, 188, 191; PLA-N 192; personal rivalries 184 personnel 178; conditions of service 184, 189; French combat unit experience 179; morale 189, 191; strength 177, 181, 182, 184, 186, 187, 189, 191; technical education and skills 179, 182, 185, 187; training 178, 179, 182, 187, 189, 192 organization 182, 184, 186; Army control of naval combat forces 179, 187; Coastal Force 186, 187, 188, 189, 191, 264n115; coastal patrol flotilla 178; Customs integration with Navy 178; Deputy Chief of Staff (Navy) 181;

Deputy Chief of Staff (Operations) 181; naval zone commands 186; RID 191; River Escort Group 185; River Force 185, 187, 189; River Force Transport Group 185; RPG 191; Rung Sat special zone 185, 189; Sea Force 184, renamed Fleet Command 187, 188; sea zones 183 separate service 187 shore infrastructure bases 181, 186, 189; Can Tho 181, 184, 185; Cat Lai 184; Cat Lo 184; Con Son Island 183; Da Nang 183; Dong Ha 184; Hoi An 181; Long Xuyên 184, 185; My Tho 181, 184, 185; Nha Trang 179, 182, 183; Quang Nhai 181; Qui Nhon 183; Saigon 185; Tam Ky 181; Vinh Long 179, 181, 184, 185; Vung Tau 183 Recruit Training Centre 179; Saigon dockyard 182, 184 weapons: mines 189, 194 Soviet Union 2, 4, 5; ideological approach 7; Indonesia 7; Indian relations 7; Navy 12 the sea: exploitation 9; environmental damage 9; fishermen 9; seabed mining 9 torpedoes 3; ammunition 11, challenges 212; in-company time 11; sea time 11; submarine 8; technical 218; training, Britain 6; Type 209 UK 6; United Nations 26, US 2, 6, 50; balance for Chinese influence 215; defence of Hue 191; domestic opposition to Vietnam War 189; drawdown 8; freedom of navigation in the South China Sea 127 USN 2, 6, 7, 12; engagement by regional navies 215; presence 214, 215, 219; RMSI 219 Vietnam Democratic People’s Republic 9, 19; administrative capacity 200 Armed forces: Air Force: Su22 and Su 27 207; Army 193, 195, 196, 199, 201, 208, 265n1, 267n33, n34, n35, n37, n44, n55, n68, 268n87, n88, n89, n91, n100, n101, n102; Military Staff Directorate 197; Military High Command 197 Coast Guard: Airbus C212–400

Index   301 maritime patrol aircraft 209; coastal radar network 207; formation 207; patrol boats from PAVN 207; PZL-28 maritime patrol aircraft 207 domestic politics: Communist Party 193, 194, 197, 206, 208; conflict with China 195; corruption 199, ‘Cuba of the Orient’ 196; Da Nang airfield Soviet access 196; defence force reductions 196; Defence White Papers 203, 269n120, ‘Doi Moi’ policy 196; independence 195; political reform 196; post-war recriminations in the South 195 economy 193, 195, 196, 199, 200, 203, 206, 208, budgets 195, 196, 198, 200, 201, 203, 206, 207, 208, 209; defence budget 195, 200, 201, 207, 209; military business activities 199, 208; Navy profitability 199 external security 269n115; Cambodia, conflict, invasion and withdrawal 99, 195, 199; Gulf War 1991 implications 199; potential threat to the region 197 foreign relations: ARF 196, 202; ASEAN 269n105; intervention over Chinese oil rig 204; membership 202; Treaty of Amity and Cooperation 202 Cam Ranh Bay 195, 207: potential US access 196; Russian withdrawal 201, 268n98; Soviet access 196, 201; Soviet development 196, 266n22, n24; Soviet submarine and surface warship basing 196, 267n65; Soviet reduced presence 196, 201, 266n31; signals intelligence station 201; to become a commercial facility 201; Tu-16 Badger andTu-95 Bear aircraft 196; China 193, 194, 195, 196, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 211, 266n13, 267n61, 268n73, n74, n76, n78, 270n133, n136, n137, n138, n146; Czech Republic 207; France 193, 201; India 199, 202, 203, 207, 209, 211, 215, 268n92, 269n109, n110, n111, n112, n113, n114, n117, 270n146, 271n171; Indonesia 199, 200, 204; Japan 202, 269n108, n109, n110; Malaysia 200, 205, 206, 270n145; Philippines 200, 202, 205; Singapore 266n29, 267n49, 269n119; South Korea 203; South Vietnam 197; Soviet Union and Russia 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 199, 201, 202, 204, 205, 206, 207, 266n22, n24,

n25, n31, 267n65; Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation with Soviet Union 195; Thailand 198, 201, 202, 267n52; Ukraine 203 US 202; mine clearance in Haiphong 194 historical: Gulf of Tonkin resolution 194, 266n7; Tet Offensive 194; Viet Cong 194; Viet Minh 193 internal security: infiltration 193, 199; refugees 195 joint activities: patrols 202, 269n106, n107; petroleum exploration surveys with China and the Philippines 205 maritime security 193, 199, 204; boundary claims and disputes 193, 198, 199, 200, 204, 205, 211; Brévie Line 200; Bojaio Island 200; Layang Layang Reef 200; Paracel Islands 195; Phu Quoc attacked by Cambodia 195; Gulf of Thailand 195, 200, 202 Natuna Islands 200; Indonesian development 200; offshore oil and gas resources 195, 198, 200, 203, 204; piracy 202; smuggling 199; South China Sea 193, 198, 203; conflict with China 200, Paracel Islands 204; sea lines of communication 198, 199, 200, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 208, 209, 268n73, 270n134, n136, n146; seismic ship cables cut by Chinese ships 205; Spratly Islands 195, 198, 199, 200, 202, 204, 205, 207, 211, 268n79, n83, 269n127, n130, 270n131, n132, n146; talks with China 204, 205; territorial waters 198, 206 technological development 200 Vietnam Democratic People’s Republic Navy 13, 199, 206; access to western technology 209 activities with other navies 202; visits by foreign navies 199, 201, 202, 203 combat forces; attack craft 205; corvettes: Admirable class 206; ASW 197, 206, 208, 209, 210, 270n151, 271n176, n184; BPS 500 206; Sigma class 209; fast patrol craft 206; frigates 197, 199, 201, 203, 205, 207, 208, 210; Gepard class 208; Parchim class 208; Petya III class 197, 198, 207, 208; junks 194; landing craft 208 mine countermeasures forces 199, 205; Sonya class minehunters and

302   Index minesweepers 199; missile-armed combatants 206, 208; FAC-M 97, 199; Komar class 194, 197, 198; Osa class 197, 198, 202, 207; Tarantul class missile corvettes 206, 208; motor launches 197; OPV 193; patrol craft 197, 205, 207, 208, 270n135; Shanghai class 194; SO-1 class 206; Stolkraft 207; Svetlyak class 208; Zhuk class 207; Polnocny class landing ships 198; submarines 193, 208, 211; crew training 207; industrial demands 209; threat to China 209; midget submarines from DPRK 207; Kilo class from Russia 207, 209, 217; technical and personnel challenges 207 Swatow class gunboats 194; torpedo boats 194, 197, 198; PT-4 and PT-6 class 194, 197; Shershen class 198, 206, 207; trawlers 194; Turya class fast attack craft 198, 207 Commander: Admiral Giap Van Cuong 199 external security: hotline with RMN 205 force structure and development 195, 197, 199, 206, 213, 215; force levels table 210; legacy of ex-US equipment 197; low priority for development 198; modernization 193, 201, 202, 205, 206, 208, 268n89, n90, n94, 270n149, n153; obsolescence 199; technological development and challenges 208, 213, 268n92, 269n111, n113, n114, n117 foreign relations: Australia 206, 207; China 193; East Germany 194; France 177, 179, 181, 193, 201; Malaysia 200, 205, 206, 270n145; Netherlands 193; PLA-N 197, 200, 204, 209, 211; Poland 207, 208, 271n174; RMN 201, 204; Russia and the Soviet Union 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 201, 202, 205, 206, 266n22, n24, n25, n31, 267n65; RTN 202, 268n104; TNI-AL 199; US 194, 196, 198, 200, funding allocation and problems 198, 206, 207, 208, 209, 211 historical: dinassaut 193; MTBs 194, 198; North Vietnamese Naval Transportation Group 125 194; supply

of forces in the South 194; Tet Offensive 194; war against South Vietnam 194 internal security: infiltration 193 joint service 201, 202, 207, 259n90, n91, 269n107; operations in Spratly Islands 207 logistic support 206, 206; maintenance problems 196, 206, 210 maritime operations: anti-infiltration 199; anti-piracy 202; anti-smuggling 199; attacks against US forces 194, 198; Cambodian Navy opposition 197; coast guard 193; concentration of forces in South China Sea 204; defence of Bach Ho and Dai Hung oilfields 204,detention of Chinese fishing boats 205; fisheries patrols 193; Gulf of Tonkin 194, 200; inshore and riverine 193, 195, 198, 210; mine clearance 195; offshore supply and support operations 199, 200, 208; patrol boats captured by Chinese 204; Puolo Wai occupation 197 maritime security 193, 199, 203, 204; coastal defence 193, 200, 205, 208 maritime air wing: Beriev-12 maritime patrol amphibians 199, 206 helicopters 198, 199, 206; Kamov Ka 27/Ka 29 (Helix A) 206; Hormone-A ASW 199; MIL-4 SAR and assault 198, 206; Twin Otter maritime patrol aircraft 209 operational capability 193, 197, 198, 206; amphibious 198, 199, 294, 205, 206, 209, 210; anti-shipping and air defence 209; ASW 199; communications intercepts 194; oceangoing 197 organization: Coastal Defence Force 193; creation of the PAVN 193; political control 197 personnel 196, 197, 198, 199, 208 shore infrastructure: bases 196; Phu Quoc 195, 197; Van Hoa 194 warship building capability 206, 209 weapons: surface-to-surface missiles SS-N-2 197, 198; SS-N-25 208; torpedoes 194