Having said this, one significant discontinuity and change can be observed in the 2014 version. For the first time the doctrine included in its section on domestic military dangers the notion of external threats to ‘the information space and the internal sphere’. Specifically, it referred to the danger of ‘the informational influence over the population… aimed at undermining spiritual and patriotic traditions’. The doctrine repeatedly affirmed the need to strengthen state policies aimed at countering such outside influence into Russia’s domestic affairs (Sinovets and Renz 2015: 2). Concerns over the security implications of outside political influence and the country’s ‘information security’ are not new to Russia. ‘Information management’ aimed at shielding the population from outside influences was, of course, central to the domestic politics of the Soviet Union. Even during the 1990s, at a time of relative media freedom in Russia, there were fears, as Thomas noted, that ‘in an unstable public-political and socio-economic situation, the entire population could serve as the target of influence for an enemy campaign’. Management of information was seen as essential to the maintenance of stability in the country (1996: 31). As is well known, the control of information in Russia has become increasingly tight since Putin’s rise to political power. Already in 2000 a document entitled the ‘Information Security Doctrine of the Russian Federation’ was adopted. This included subjects such as the moral content of the media, and clearly indicated the prioritization of the information sphere as a matter of national security (Bacon et al. 2006: 89–91). Until 2014, however, this issue was never explicitly addressed in the military doctrine.
The inclusion of outside information influence over the population in the 2014 military doctrine clearly confirms the Kremlin’s increasing concern over internal order and regime stability as also discussed in chapters 3 and 4. This is where the influence of certain strategic thinkers on military policy is clearly evident. The above-mentioned emphasis by strategists like Gerasimov on the growing potency of non-military tools in contemporary war and conflict needs to be understood within this context. Rather than outlining a Russian approach or doctrine of ‘hybrid warfare’, a concept that is never mentioned in such a context either by Gerasimov or by other strategists, his discussion is concerned with the potency and danger of non-military tools, such as political/ information influences on the Russian population, pursued by the West. As Bartles stated, rather than outlining Russia’s future approach to warfare, Gerasimov’s article highlighted his view of ‘the primary threats to Russian sovereignty as stemming from US-funded social and political movements, such as color revolutions, the Arab Spring, and the Maidan movement’ (Bartles 2016: 36). This yet again confirms that Russian military power is as much about internal stability as it is about the actual fighting of wars with external enemies.
‘Hybrid warfare’ – what’s in the label?
Some policy makers and analysts in the West interpreted the ease of Russian victory in Crimea as evidence of a new Russian approach to warfare that posed a serious threat to its neighbours and to the West. A UK House of Commons Defence Committee report in 2014 cautioned that the use of Russian ‘asymmetric tactics (sometimes described as unconventional, ambiguous or non-linear warfare)… represents the most immediate threat to NATO neighbours and other NATO member states’ (House of Commons Defence Committee 2014b). According to Thornton, this new approach appeared to be particularly difficult for Western powers to stand up against, as it allowed Russia to overcome shortcomings in its conventional military power and ‘to negate the significant advantage held by the US and its NATO allies in terms of their conventional military force, mostly in the technological realm’ (2015: 44). ‘Hybrid warfare’ does not originate in Russian military thinking. Although it has now also entered the parlance of strategic thinkers and military leaders in Russia, it is never referred to as a Russian approach, but, as discussed above, as a method used by the West against Russia (Thomas 2016: 557).
The ‘hybrid warfare’ concept originated in the US and was first conceptualized in depth during the mid-2000s by Frank Hoffman, a former officer in the US marines. In his view, the idea of ‘hybrid warfare’ usefully encapsulated important changes pertaining to the utility and application of military force in the twenty-first century and could explain in particular the success achieved by comparatively weak opponents against technologically advanced and superior militaries, such as the Taliban or Al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Iraq (2007). What makes an approach to warfare ‘hybrid’ is the coordinated use of tactics combining military force with non-physical or unconventional modes of warfare, such as terrorist acts, criminal disorder, the use of proxy forces, psychological and information operations. In the aftermath of Russia’s swift and almost bloodless campaign resulting in the annexation of Crimea in 2014, the ‘hybrid warfare’ concept gained widespread popularity in the West, because it appeared to be an accurate description of Russia’s approach in this operation, where non-military tools and the use of information played a central role.
One problem with this interpretation is that it is based on the assumption that there is such a thing as a war-winning strategy that will work irrespective of the circumstances specific to each war. As the history of strategic thought shows, ‘hybrid warfare’ is not the first concept that seemed to promise universal military success. Traditionally, any such concept failed to deliver decisive results in subsequent applications and it is doubtful whether Russia has finally found the elusive silver bullet. A prominent example of a presumed war-winning formula is the above-mentioned RMA. Although the intellectual roots of the concept originated in Soviet thinking on the implications of technological innovation on the nature of war, it became prominent in US strategic thought in the wake of the 1991 Gulf War (Adamsky 2008). Some strategists extrapolated from this example that the US had found an approach to war that would allow it to overcome the ‘fog of war’ in any future conflict. The air campaign over Kosovo, in the eyes of the concept’s proponents, vindicated this idea (Adamsky 2010: 3). As is well known, the RMA did not turn out to be a panacea and US technological superiority did not deliver success in the subsequent conflicts in Afghanistan or in Iraq in 2003.
Although technological superiority undoubtedly presented the US coalition with a serious advantage during the first Gulf War, it is also clear that victory in this case was enabled by exceptionally favourable conditions for the US coalition. As Tim Benbow summed it up, these included a united international opinion against Iraq. The latter had invaded another sovereign state and thus presented a clearly defined strategic objective to the coalition. This was the liberation of Kuwait, which suited the conventional advantages of the coalition and could be achieved by conventional military means. The terrain and weather made the theatre of operations particularly conducive for the successful conduct of the air campaign and the coalition had a long build-up period to prepare for the operation. It also enjoyed host nation support in the region and the opponent it faced was a regular military that operated with similar tactics, but was far inferior in terms of technology and manpower (Benbow 2004: 56–8). Less favourable circumstances meant that technological superiority did not translate into easy military victory in Afghanistan and Iraq in 2003. Mountainous terrain and a geopolitical location unsuitable for easy logistical support complicated the situation in Afghanistan. Patchy international support for the 2003 Iraq War was a problem. Arguably, however, the ambiguous and fluid strategic endpoints in both cases made the swift achievement of objectives unlikely from the outset. Unlike the liberation of an occupied country as in 1991, the goals of fighting global terrorism, achieving regime change and effecting stabilization were not suited to the military advantages aiding US victory in 1991. Coalition forces got bogged down in protracted campaigns where, once the existing regime had been defeated, insurgent groups were able to ensure that a lasting US strategic victory could not be achieved. The chances of success of any war-fighting approach are never universal, but always depend on context and circumstances.