Records, by Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Fisher

by Baron John Arbuthnot Fisher Fisher

At any rate successive Boards of Admiralty have for something like 20 years acted on the assumption—which has hitherto been justified—that their policy would be accepted by the public as based on a fully considered estimate of the requirements of national defence, and, if criticised (as it was bound to be from time to time), criticised on other than partisan grounds. Between the date of the Naval Defence Act and 1904 the Navy Estimates were approximately trebled. The increase was continuous under four successive First Lords, and under both Liberal and Conservative Governments. In 1904 the maximum of the curve of expenditure was reached, and the Navy Estimates began to decline, at first rapidly, under a Conservative Government, then more slowly, and in part subject to certain provisos, under the present Liberal Government. And this, it appears, is the moment chosen for the first considerable outbreak of political rancour in naval affairs since the modern Navy came into existence!

It is, however, of such supreme importance to the Navy that the Admiralty Board should not be suspected of being governed in its decisions on matters of national defence by partisan considerations that it may be well to set out again, and very explicitly, what are the reasons which have led the Board to adopt the policy now impugned.

Here we have to go back to first principles. It has become too much the fashion to employ the phrase “a two-Power standard” as a mere shibboleth. The principle this phrase embodies has been of the utmost value in the past, and is likely to be so in the future; but if used unintelligently at the present moment it merely gives the enemy cause to blaspheme. Great Britain must, it is agreed, maintain at all costs the command of the sea. Therefore we must be decisively stronger than any possible enemy. Who then is the possible enemy? Ten years ago, or even less, we should probably have answered, France and Russia in alliance. As they were then respectively the second and third naval Powers, the two-Power standard had an actuality which it has since lost. The United States and Germany are competing for the second place which France has already almost yielded. Russia’s fleet has practically disappeared. Japan’s has sprung to the front rank. Of the four Powers which are primarily in question, Japan is our ally, France is our close friend, America is a kindred State with whom we may indeed have evanescent quarrels, but with whom, it is scarcely too much to say, we shall never have a parricidal war. The other considerable naval Powers are Italy and Austria, of whom we are the secular friends, and whose treaty obligations are in the highest degree unlikely to force them into a rupture with us which could in no possible way serve their own interests.

There remains Germany. Undoubtedly she is a possible enemy.[4] While there is no specific cause of dispute there is a general commercial and—on the German side—political rivalry which has unfortunately but indisputably caused bad blood between the two countries. For the moment, it would be safe to build against Germany only. But we cannot build for the moment: the Board of Admiralty are the trustees of future generations of their countrymen, who may not enjoy the same comparatively serene sky as ourselves. The ships we lay down this year may have their influence on the international situation twenty years hence, when Germany—or whoever our most likely antagonist may then be—may have the opportunity of the co-operation (even if only temporary) of another great naval Power. Hence a two-Power standard, rationally interpreted, is by no means out of date. But it is not a rational interpretation to say that we must instantly lay down as many ships as any other two Powers are at this moment laying down. We must take long views; we must be sure what other Powers are doing; we must take the average of their efforts, and average our own efforts in response.

Now this matter of averaging the shipbuilding, of equalising the programme over a number of years, deserves further consideration. Some Powers, notably Germany, attempt to achieve this end by creating long statutory programmes. The British Admiralty has abandoned the idea since the Naval Defence Act. For us, in fact, it would be a thoroughly vicious system. For a Power which is trying to “set the pace,” and which is glad to avoid annual discussion of the financial aspect of the question, it, no doubt, has its advantages. But Great Britain does not build to a naval strength that can be determined a priori; she builds simply and solely to maintain the command of the sea against other Powers. For this end the Admiralty must have its hands free to determine from year to year what the shipbuilding requirements are. But, again, this does not mean that our efforts must be spasmodic, that because foreign Powers lay down six ships one year and none the next, therefore we must do the same. For administrative reasons, which should be obvious, and which in any case this is not the place to dilate upon, it is very necessary that shipbuilding should approximate year by year, so far as practicable, to some normal figure, and that increases or decreases, when they become necessary, should be made gradually. This double principle, of determining the programme from year to year, and yet averaging the number of ships built over a number of years, has to be firmly grasped by anyone who desires to understand the Admiralty shipbuilding policy.

With this preamble we are in a position to discuss the actual situation. And first we have to consider what is the existing relative strength of Great Britain and the other naval Powers. About this there is really no difference of opinion—British naval supremacy was never better assured than at the present moment. Even admitting the combination of two of the three next naval Powers (France, Germany, and the United States) to be conceivable, it is certain that any two of them would hesitate to attack us, and it is more than probable that if they did they would be defeated, even without the assistance of our Japanese allies. The alleged alarm as to our naval strength is therefore admittedly in regard to the future, not in regard to the present. And here (to digress for a moment) we may remark that agitations have occurred in earlier years when it was supposed that some foreign Power or combination of Powers was actually in a position to sweep us off the Channel, but never before have we been invited to panic by prophecy. Is there not something slightly absurd in alarm—not calculation, for that is justifiable enough, but alarm—about our position in 1920? At any rate, it is clear that it is the future which we are called on to consider.

In this connection two facts have to be remembered: first, that we start in a position of security, and need therefore be in no undue haste to build more ships; secondly, that we are on the threshold of a new era in naval construction, and can therefore not rest content with the advantage which we secured in an era which is passing away. The problem need not be complicated by a somewhat futile attempt to bring the existing and the new ships of our own and foreign navies to a common denominator; we must build new ships to meet new ships, always, however, remembering that until the new ships are in commission we have got plenty of the old ones to fight with.

But here it is really impossible to avoid commenting on the gross insincerity of some recent attacks on the Admiralty. It was no doubt only to be expected that the four ships of the Cawdor memorandum, which were explicitly stated to be a maximum, should always be quoted as a minimum by anyone who wishes to belabour the present Board. But there is a further point which the convenient shortness of the journalistic memory has suffered to be overlooked. When the Cawdor memorandum was issued, it was generally (though wrongly) assumed that only two of the four ships would be battleships, and two “armoured cruisers.” And at that time the public had certainly no idea what the “Invincible” Fast Battle Cruiser type was like, with its 6 knots superiority of speed to everything afloat, and the biggest guns alive. The “Invincibles” are, as a matter of fact, perfectly fit to be in line of battle with the battle fleet, and could more correctly be described as battleships which, thanks to their speed, can drive anything afloat off the seas. But this was not known, and the calculations generally made in the Press added only two units per annum to our battle fleet. Yet there was no outcry; that was reserved to a later date, when it was beginning to be understood that the “Invincibles” could be reckoned side by side with the “Dreadnought,” and it had been announced that three new “Dreadnoughts,” instead of two, were to be laid down this winter. Surely the ways of the party journalist are past finding out.

In this connection it may be well also to make some observations on the diminution by the authority of the Board of programmes of shipbuilding already approved by Parliament. The allegation that there is anything unconstitutional in the procedure may be left to the constitutional lawyer to pulverise. Probably all that is usually meant by the statement is that it is desirable to let Parliament know of the change in the programme as soon as convenient after it has been decided, and to this there would usually be no possible objection. But the idea that, because Parliament has voted a certain sum of money for the current year’s programme, and certain commitments for future years (a much more important matter), therefore the Board is bound to build ships it really does not want, is not only pernicious, but also ridiculous in the extreme. The only legitimate ground for complaint, if any, would be that the Board had misled Parliament in the first instance by overestimating the requirements. The Board are faced each summer with the necessity of saying what they expect to have to lay down 18 months later. This, of course, is prophecy. Generally it is found to be pretty accurate, but the advent of the new era in shipbuilding (which is principally due to the lessons of the only big naval war of modern times) has made prophecy more than usually difficult. Moreover, if the matter is at all in doubt, the prophet has special inducements to select the higher rather than the lower figure. Increase of a programme during a given year will involve a supplementary estimate with all its accompanying inconveniences. If on the other hand it is found that the original programme was unnecessarily extensive, it is a comparatively simple matter to cut it down. It is best of course to have the right number of new ships in the Navy Estimates; but it is next best to have a number in excess of that ultimately required, which can be pruned as requisite.

Let us repeat: sufficient unto the year is the shipbuilding thereof. Panic at the present time is stupid. The Board of Admiralty is not to be frightened by paper programmes. They will cautiously do all that they judge necessary to secure the existing naval supremacy of this country: the moment that is threatened they will throw caution to the winds and outbuild our rivals at all costs.