The U.S. has a range of options for dealing with Yemen’s Houthis, none of them good. But a long campaign of naval strikes and interception against them, as is now being floated by the Biden Administration and outside experts, is certainly the worst response of all. That’s because it means the U.S. Navy continuing to sink into Middle East sand for an unachievable goal all while losing ground in the far-more important Pacific.
Houthi attacks on Red Sea shipping have summoned Tomahawk cruise missiles and Top Gun pilots from the deck of the USS Eisenhower. The newly-renamed Operation Poseidon Archer is just two weeks old, and the Biden Administration is already drawing up plans for a longer effort, despite admitting that defeating the Houthis is not viable. There is a risk of escalation in the Middle East, especially with the death of three U.S. soldiers after a drone strike in Jordan. But the effects on the U.S. Navy will be predictable, because they have all happened before: overworked ships and sailors, expenditure of precious precision munitions, and a continued punt on the pivot to the Pacific.
The nuclear-powered aircraft carrier is the crown jewel of American military might. Its 5,000 sailors and 90 jet-strike aircraft can guarantee sustained ship-to-shore pummeling of adversaries and the purported deterrence this provides—in effect modern gunboat diplomacy. In any geopolitical crisis, it’s said the U.S. President will demand to know where the carriers are. For the past two decades, throughout the “Global War on Terror” (GWOT), the answer has usually been the Middle East. From 2001 to 2015, United States Central Command (CENTCOM), which includes North Africa, the Middle East, and Central Asia, had at least one carrier assigned at all times. As late as 2020, the Middle East drew almost as much carrier presence as the entire Pacific.
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Because of this relentless demand, carriers often have their deployments extended or are “double-pumped,” conducting back-to-back deployments without a major maintenance period in between. The last three carriers deployed in the Mediterranean were all extended: the USS Gerald R. Ford was at sea for 239 days, the USS Harry S. Truman for 285, and the USS George H. W. Bush for 257. This overwork has consequences. After the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower did two sets of double pumps, its subsequent 14-month maintenance period ballooned to 23 months because of wear and tear.
The utility and survivability of carriers in a major war are also in question. In 1982, the legendary Admiral Hyman Rickover stunned Congress by testifying that in a war with the Soviet Union, U.S. aircraft carriers would survive for “48 hours.” In the four decades since, the carrier’s vulnerability has dramatically increased. Anti-ship missiles have become far more accurate and long-ranged since Rickover’s testimony, as the unrefueled range of an aircraft carrier’s air wing has shrunk from well over 1,000 nautical miles to barely 600 now. This leaves carrier commanders with two unpalatable options: stay out of enemy range but become operationally irrelevant or sail close enough but put a $13 billion vessel and its 5,000 sailors at risk. The narrow waters of the Persian Gulf and chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz and Yemen’s Bab-el Mandeb only magnify this dilemma.
Yet the overworked carrier fleet and questions about its utility in a major war are only part of the larger problem of U.S. naval overstretch. Since the September 11, 2001 attacks, the U.S. Navy has become addicted to global “presence” as a demonstration of its value to the nation.
Over the past two decades, the Army and Marine Corps could point to their efforts, successful or not, on the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan. To maintain its status and budget, the Navy also needed to contribute, at sea and ashore. With the all-volunteer military stretched to the breaking point, the…
This article was originally published by a time.com . Read the Original article here. .