If a strategy for peace is to be as widely implemented as possible, its scope must be broad, the more so as the obstacles to achieving a lasting peace have themselves grown so formidable. The world's population has gone from around one billion to around five billion in the two hundred years since Kant wrote, adding to the pressures for resources and territory, and may double again in the next fifty years. The toll from war and famine has likewise multiplied. Although international organizations are playing a growing role in our century, they have no means, as yet, for bringing an end to the many wars that continue to plague so many regions, or for coping with the risks from modern weapons.

      Without more extensive scope for a strategy for peace, these obstacles may deflect all efforts at fundamental change, given the prevailing climate of distrust among nations. To provide greater scope, I would like to suggest the need for emphasizing and combining two modern developments of strategic thinking, increasingly recognized by Eastern as well as Western nations. The first development extends the concept of "strategy" to encompass all that a nation does that affects its relations with other nations. The second is that of "confidence-building measures'' agreed upon by governments in order to reduce the risk of surprise attacks or confrontations arising out of miscalculation.

      The first approach, now common to many nations, takes strategy to have far greater reach than in the past. This is in part because war, in the twentieth century, has come to be waged not merely through military but also through political, diplomatic, psychological, and economic action. The tactics of war and peace are now less clearly separated than in the past; strategy therefore includes many activities beyond the strictly military and extends to periods of peace as well as of war. Accordingly, "strategy" is defined by the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff, as

the art and science of developing and using political, economic, psychological and military forces as necessary during peace and war, to afford the maximum support to policies, in order to increase the probabilities and favorable consequences of victory and to lessen the changes of defeat.

      All that a nation does, not only with a view to surviving but to thriving economically and politically, is explicitly part of strategy thus conceived. Some governments conduct economic warfare by every means short of military occupation, including blockade, large-scale technological theft, dumping, and economic penetration. Similarly, operations of psychological warfare may go all the way from the mildest propaganda to forgery, disinformation, and vilification campaigns. And when leaders sponsor guerilla wars against nations with which they are nominally at peace, the lines between wartime and peacetime activities are hard to draw.

      With two obvious qualifications, the strategy for peace that I propose can accept and indeed embrace the broad definition offered by the Joint Chiefs of Staff:

--strategy ought to partake of "art" as well as of "science";
--it ought to use "political, economic, psychological and military forces" and do so "during peace and war";
--and its purpose should be "to increase the probabilities and favorable consequences of victory and to lessen the chances of defeat."

      The vital qualifications that we must add have to do with the end--victory--and the means of such an expanded strategy. The necessary victory is no longer only over adversaries in particular conflicts but over the threat of large-scale war itself. And in order to reduce that threat and bring peace to regions now at war, the means employed must respect a framework of moral constraints--not merely in wartime but, most urgently, before actual war breaks out.

      The second contemporary approach to strategy, that of "confidence-building measures," accords with such a framework of constraints; but it lacks, as yet, a sufficiently broad perspective. An agreement signed at a thirty-five-nation conference on September 22, 1986, in Stockholm, contains a number of clauses meant to reduce the risk of needless provocation and accidental war. In particular, the signatories pledged that any state planning to carry out military exercises in Europe or to undertake troop movements in ways that might appear threatening would announce such plans in advance and accept mandatory on-site inspection.

      All parties stand to gain from signing such a treaty. It threatens no one; and no nation wants to be drawn into war because of an avoidable failure to account for military movements. The agreement breaks new ground, however, in allowing openness in these matters between nations and in recognizing that building trust in such ways reduces the tensions that can lead to war. It presupposes not only openness in certain limited and carefully specified ways but also full observance, in these respects, of the other three constraints that are part of the framework I have proposed: nonviolence, veracity, and respect for treaties and commitments.

      If, however, any nation signs such an agreement only to ignore it by breaching its provisions, it will increase rather than decrease the burden of distrust in international relations. Treaty-breaking is, here as always, of special importance in its corrosive effect on trust. Agreeing to give notice of troop movements, for example, only to proceed not to do so, will arouse greater distrust than would a refusal to give such notice in the first place. A nation that acts thus with respect to confidence-building measures will be less trusted in other negotiations as well. As a result, the framework of moral constraints, and especially the constraints on deception, breaches of faith, and secrecy, can be of use only if they are taken seriously by all parties to such a treaty from the beginning.

      To the extent that nations realize that their self-interest requires them to adhere to the Stockholm treaty, therefore, they will have made a good beginning. But the treaty is still no more than a beginning. It has addressed a few issues clearly of interest to all parties in the East-West conflict and thus in the interest of all nations now at risk through that conflict. But it has focused only on the European theater and, even in that limited context, only on a few types of military maneuvers.

      How might the concept of confidence-building measures be enlarged? I suggest that we view it provisionally from the expansive perspective on strategy discussed earlier and aim to extend the measures gradually beyond the Stockholm agreement in five ways:

      1. Over time, similar agreements should be negotiated for measures that apply not only to Europe but to every region in the world. All nations facing actual or potential conflicts would benefit from measures to reduce the likelihood of war resulting from excessive or misplaced distrust. All could benefit from a "hot line" to facilitate communication at times of crises; all could use the services of a "risk reduction center" such as was inaugurated in 1988 with respect to the risk of nuclear confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union. However great the hostility between two camps, neither one can be well served by being drawn into war through miscalculation. Thus both India and Pakistan could have made use of an agreement to honor confidence-building measures during the crisis in January and February 1987, when each side claimed that it was massing troops at its borders in response to what the other was doing, and war became a distinct possibility.

      2. Over time, such agreements should also be extended to cover not just particular measures such as troop movements in an area but larger military policies concerning such matters as arms sales, budgeting, involvement in regional wars, and the testing, manufacture, and deployment of weapons. Already, information concerning many such matters is openly available; much of it has become so hard to conceal that it is widely known even against the wishes of the governments most concerned. Efforts at maintaining secrecy will continue to be called for in matters clearly relevant to national security. But government officials should be required to justify publicly each policy of secrecy they take to be indispensable. As is demonstrated by the crises over secret and at times unlawful arms sales to Iran and Iraq by countries as diverse as China, Sweden, France, Israel, the Soviet Union, and the United States, such schemes often damage national security and breed more distrust domestically and abroad than any benefits associated with them could possibly warrant. Likewise, casualty figures offered by each side in conflicts such as those of Vietnam and Afghanistan are regularly at variance; again, the resulting loss of confidence outweighs any short-term gain in deceiving the domestic or international public.

      3. Confidence-building measures and policies considered in such contexts should gradually be extended to include all that is embraced in the definition of "strategy" mentioned above: not only military but also diplomatic, intelligence, commercial, cultural, and other activities that affect the level of distrust in such a way that mutual change could build confidence without impairing security. So far, the confidence-building measures adopted in the East-West arena or still at the proposal stage are of a primarily military nature. Many other practices are overdue for change; far from being confidence-building, they are confidence-destroying, and they injure participating nations as much as they damage international relations. Among them are violations of law such as the mining of international waterways, the use of poison gas, and the employing, subsidizing, or training of terrorist forces. Some of the needed changes, such as those affecting intelligence-gathering and covert action, may require negotiation and mutual agreement. Just as nations bargain about arms control, so they can do much more to negotiate changes in the practices that stand in its way.

      In addition, there are many circumstances in which a government takes little or no risk in giving up confidence-destroying practices unilaterally. Given the harm they do to a nation's reputation both abroad and domestically, it is important to take full advantage of such opportunities. Unilateral action is preferable whenever a nation sees a clear advantage in abandoning a harmful and counterproductive policy, such as the French policy that resulted in the Greenpeace sabotage. Likewise, policies of disinformation, once they become known, are so damaging to a nation's reputation and self-image that it is preferable to give them up immediately rather than enter into negotiation about activities so clandestine and so hard to pin down.

      4. Confidence-building measures should include, moreover, not just what is done between nations but their domestic policies insofar as they build or erode confidence. Censorship, economic exploitation, and denials of religious or political freedom not only breach fundamental moral constraints in their own right but also add considerably to the distrust a nation and its leaders inspire--abroad as well as at home. Governments that show no respect for fundamental moral constraints in their treatment of opposition forces at home inspire little confidence that they will do so abroad.

      The difficulties in the way of agreements about such matters are great, since most governments reject outside interference in internal affairs, no matter how high the level of mismanagement and repression. But it is increasingly difficult to try to keep domestic and international affairs in watertight compartments. (1) Banking and stock market activities now cross all frontiers, so that what is done in one nation can have powerful effects across the world; the same is true of government policies that affect human rights. As a result of the reach of today's communications media, Kant's words about the world community are increasingly apt: "it has developed to the point where a violation of rights in one part of the world is felt everywhere." And when, as with the human rights provisions of the Helsinki accords, human rights become matters of international agreement, then violations increase distrust still more sharply.

      It is important, in this respect, to take a strong stand against excessive official secrecy in all states. The policies of secrecy and censorship available to modern governments form a web that conceals many violations of moral constraints. Secrecy shields the violence, the deceit, and the betrayal that cannot tolerate the light of day. It is indispensable to the control that repressive governments exercise over their people; and it represents the greatest possible internal threat to democracies, since it renders citizens powerless to the extent that it keeps from them the information they need to influence policy.

      Such official secrecy in any one state protects policies that can be directed against foreigners and fellow citizens alike, and the distrust that it engenders tempts officials in other states to work for greater secrecy as well. It is therefore the legitimate concern, not just of the citizens of the state where such secrecy prevails, but of all others to support efforts to cut it back. Guarding against the encroachments of secrecy is of fundamental importance to a strategy for peace. The task is far from hopeless, for the pervasive secrecy that many governments could exercise in the past is under attack. In the era of computers and video cassettes, officials find it increasingly difficult to keep the web of secrecy intact. And to the extent that they keep citizens from access to computers and information technology, from free travel, and from open international exchange of information, they stifle the creativity and the technological understanding needed to keep up with other nations.

      5. Finally, actions to build confidence and to undo or delay its erosion should be understood to be the business not just of governments but of public and private groups as well as individuals. Governments are undoubtedly the most powerful agents in influencing the climate that favors or undermines the possibility of a lasting peace. But while only they can conclude the treaties and allocate the resources that make such a peace possible, they are too often locked into longstanding modes of partisan response to conflict and are trapped in loyalties to vested interests. Without the prodding, the support, and the wealth of ideas from many quarters that a strategy for peace calls for and can draw upon, governments may never bestir themselves vigorously enough to bring about decisive change, or be able to keep up the momentum, having once begun.

      Many international networks and organizations have sprung up in recent decades, and still more are needed to facilitate the implementation of a strategy for peace. The central role will nevertheless still be played by the various agencies of the United Nations. True, many member nations have used the UN for parochial purposes with no regard for the common good. But it does provide a forum for negotiation and continued debate that would be hard to replace, and its agencies carry out invaluable work in such fields as health, agriculture, literacy, refugee aid, peacekeeping, and social and cultural life. An important part of the strategy for peace must therefore be to support the UN's constructive work; to help keep its debates from derailing into partisan rhetoric and the merchandising of votes; and to stress standards for nonviolence, accuracy, and fidelity in speech no less than in action.

      Just as countless industries, groups, and individuals contribute to polluting the earth's atmosphere and waters, so the climate of trust and distrust is affected by innumerable policies, large and small. Everybody, as a result, can have a part in improving that climate. Business, labor, the media, professional organizations, political parties, and religious bodies can play a leading role in this respect, both by refraining from adding to the damage through their own policies and by joining with others to bring about change. The same is true for individuals in their own lives, whether at home, at work, or in community and political activities.

      While there is opportunity for all to help restore the atmosphere of minimal trust needed for human cooperation and to keep from degrading it further, the forces working in the opposite direction are formidable. Often, those who resort to deceit, violence, and lawlessness take no account of the effect of their action on the climate of trust, either in their own nation or internationally. They are strictly concerned to achieve some short-range goal or personal benefit. The same is true of industries polluting the oceans or adding to the damage from acid rain and of governments stalling joint efforts to protect the environment. They are all, in this respect, free riders when it comes to the social good at issue, willing to benefit from improvements brought about by others but unwilling to help in this regard or even to put a stop to policies adding to further deterioration.

      An extended scope for a strategy for peace calls for working at many levels to cut back on such policies of free riding. It matters as much to do so with respect to the social good of trust as with resources such as air or water. Such efforts, reaching beyond what is routinely thought of as related to peace, can connect a myriad of undertakings, large and small. They provide opportunities for practical steps that people can take immediately, instead of merely mouthing worn-out rhetoric about war and peace and carrying on with the symbolic gestures that have all too often seemed the only ways to express concern. All those who strive, whether individually or jointly, to reduce the sway of violence and deceit, betrayal and secrecy, are doing practical work for peace. They may be working in cities and villages torn by religious or racial conflict, or as negotiators or reporters, human rights activists, or scholars. The more they come to see that others are joined with them in such efforts, however seemingly disconnected, and the more they recognize a shared perspective and framework of fundamental constraints, the more consciously they will be part of such an expansive strategy for peace.

      But the strategy is restrictive as well, in that it offers structure and guidelines. For all the many forms of action that fit in the categories I have mentioned, it is the perspective and the framework of moral constraints that structure choice. Otherwise, the risks for those working for peace are as real as for their opponents: of being co-opted into serving as mouthpieces for partisan political positions, of becoming too narrowly focused on arms policies, or of letting worthy ends justify unacceptable means. Thus, aggressive schemes to promote peace--sabotaging munitions factories, say, or spreading false rumors about militaristic government leaders--run counter to the strategy as much as do government policies of oppression at home or abroad. The same is true of disinformation and terrorism, whether undertaken by a group or a government, no matter how noble the goals they invoke to defend their actions.

      A final objection arises, however, for all who wish to combine the thoroughly practical approach of Clausewitz with a strategy for peace that takes moral constraints seriously. Won't the stress on morality in international relations, no matter how understandable in principle, lead in practice either to self-righteous abuses in the name of morality or to a debilitating weakness in the face of the present crisis, instead of to the boldness it requires?

To be sure, most people would agree that this would not be so in an ideal world. But might it not be true in real life, where ignorance, partisanship, and sheer foolishness skew and corrupt all recourse to morality? Both Machiavelli and Clausewitz assert that morality does play such a counterproductive role, although they take this view to be so self-evident that they give it but the scantiest anecdotal support. The question was increasingly debated in the latter half of the nineteenth century, during decades of heightened nationalism and armaments buildup that, in turn, gave rise to a growing longing for peace, to broad peace movements, and to one peace congress after another. After the First World War--the most searing conflict the world had ever known up to that time, and one that abounded with calls for a new morality--the question of whether morality does more harm than good was raised more articulately than ever, in the name of the need for a return to realism.