Britain and France vie for supremacy in European defence

The French newspapers are full of pictures of the mighty aircraft carrier Charles de Gaulle, pride of “La Royale,” as the Marine Nationale prefers to think of itself, with due disregard for the Revolution.

And it is indeed a fine ship. Nuclear-powered, weighing in at 42,500 tonnes and carrying a variety of aircraft, including the latest naval version of the Dassault Rafale, it will shortly complete what is likely to prove its last major refit, allowing it once more to prowl the word’s oceans as France’s most visible symbol of military strength.

But as the General himself demonstrated, not even Le Charles de Gaulle can go on forever. The ship, called originally Le Richelieu, entered service in 2001 and is expected to be decommissioned by 2040 at the latest.

In the meantime, following an announcement by the Defence Minister Florence Parly that a replacement carrier is probably on the cards, argument is raging over what form it should take. Should it be bigger than Le Grand Charles? Should it be nuclear-powered? Should it have the latest form of catapult, patented in the U.S., or should it embark instead vertical-launch aircraft, such as the American F35b? As for cost, the budget for the study period alone comes to €40m (£35m). 

One element in the debate that the French don’t like to mention, but which is inescapable, is the fact that the British are about to commission not one, but two super-carriers, HMS Queen Elizabeth, now completing trials, and its sister ship, The Prince of Wales. As Jean Guisnel, one of France’s leading commentators on defence matters, put it, the Charles de Gaulle has performed superbly, but as one ship can only do so much: “Elsewhere, the Royal Navy, in deploying two modern aircraft carriers, has made no such mistake. And France must do with less? Shocking!” 

As we know, Britain has its own naval problems. For a start, no one seems to know how many F35s the Navy’s two carriers will be allowed. They each have space for 36, plus helicopters, but it is likely, at least in the short term, that they will have to get along with just a third of that number. There are also concerns over the ships’ survivability in the event of a missile attack. Russia has described them as “sitting targets”. The type 45 destroyer is supposed to be their first line of defence, but all eight of these are presently in port awaiting the arrival of new engines to replace the ones that don’t work properly in warm waters. And while the admirality awaits a final decision on how many of the new type 26 frigates will be built, more than half of the 13 existing type 23 frigates are tied up in Portsmouth and Devonport, awaiting repairs or the arrival of sufficient trained crews.

Nelson would not have been impressed.

In addition to its nuclear carrier, France also boasts three amphibious assault ships, each of 22,000 tonnes, plus 14 full-functioning destroyers and frigates, as well as four ballistic missile submarines and six nuclear-powered attack submarines. Britain may move ahead in, say, 2025, but between now and then France has the edge.

The French airforce currently deploys some 247 combat aircraft, the majority of them ageing, but still extremely capable, Dassault Mirage 2000s, or Rafales – the latter generally judged to be one of the best designed and most adaptable attack aircraft of recent years. Mirage ground assault jets have been successfully used in anti-terrorist actions in Chad and other trouble spots across what was French Africa. Joint actions have also been carried out with the RAF and USAF in Libya and Syria.

This month the first of 36 Rafales were delivered to the Indian Air Force, causing consternation in New Delhi, where MPs are demanding to know why just 36, and not the 126 originally intended. As ever, budget restraint turns out to be the reason for the reduced “emergency purchase”. Four years ago, it was reported that the cost of the deal had escalated to €26 billion, with each aircraft costing €105 million.

French special forces have been deployed almost continuously in recent years, most obviously in the Middle East and North Africa, and the Special Operations Command (COS) is actively recruiting with a view to placing more troops in more locations. But the main army of the Republic has been active as well. It currently has 110,000 full-time soldiers and 15,000 reservists, plus the 100,000-strong Gendarmerie Nationale, which is officially part of the armed forces rather than the police and comes under the joint command of the interior ministry and the ministry of defence.

The UK, by contrast, has reduced its army to just 81,500, plus 27,000 part-timers, now known as the Army Reserve rather than the Territorials. There is even talk of a further reduction to around 74,000 full-timers, leading to outraged comments by retired generals, who complain that Britain may shortly not be in a position to properly defend itself against attack.

Both the French and British armies are in need of re-equipment. Their main battle tanks are expected to become obsolete in the next few years as revolutionary new models are developed in Russia and the U.S. At sea, the French nuclear deterrent (La Force Dissuasion) is carried on submarines that, at a cost of €9bn apiece, are reckoned the most expensive ever built. Recently updated, the four dissuaders are expected to remain in service for many years to come. The British nuclear deterrent, however, will soon be past its sail-by date, with the replacement Dreadnought boats expected to cost between £30bn and £40bn, spread over 17 years. 

Only in the air does Britain enjoy an obvious superiority – or at least it will when the one hundred or so F35a fleet finally arrives, along with replacement tanker and early-warning aircraft, to join the existing 160 Typhoon multi-role fighters. 

Defence budgets are the most fought-over in the world, and Britain and France are no exception to the rule. One of the first controversies involving President Emmanuel Macron of France concerned his effective dismissal of his army chief of staff General Pierre de Villiers after he complained publicly about the impact of proposed cuts in military spending. In the event of such a clash, said Macron, there could be only one winner. 

But the departure of the General did not mean an end to the demands of the armed forces for more money. Florence Parry has to make some tough decisions over the next 12 months, including whether or not to proceed with a replacement for the Charles de Gaulle.

 In the UK, serving officers are not allowed to speak out in public, though they certainly bitch in private. It is left to the recently retired top brass to make the services’ case, which they do on an almost monthly basis, to the embarrassment of ministers in Whitehall.

 But not all military controversies are about budgets. President Macron this week refused to commit himself on the issue of whether or not to suspend arms sales to Saudi Arabia in the wake of the murder of the U.S.-based journalist Jamal Khashoggi. Last year alone, newly-agreed defence contracts with the Kingdom had a potential value for France of nearly €15bn. 

Britain faces the exact same dilemma. As a former defence minister Lord Heseltine remarked this week, a balance has always to be struck between sales, jobs and influence on the one hand and morality on the other. The assumption is that words will speak louder than actions. In Germany, Angela Merkel, widely reckoned to be on her way out as Chancellor, was the first world leader to state unequivocally that she was halting arms sales to Saudi until the Khashoggi crisis has been resolved. 

In Russia, Vladimir Putin must be laughing. He knows that by posing a realistic threat to Europe, he can keep the U.S., France, Britain and their other allies tied up in knots for years to come. Every time he shows off a new tank or new missile, or issues a further scarcely-veiled threat to the Baltic states, billions are added on to the West’s defence budget.

The rivalry between Britain and France may have its entertaining aspect, but there is no doubting the seriousness of purpose that underlies the rhetoric.