United States
Stratfor's readers are aware that we have been consistently bullish
on the U.S. economy. Our basic view of the U.S. market remains the
one put forth in our recent decade forecast: "Our expectation is
that the massive growth spurt will continue for the first half of
the decade. Though it would not surprise to see a sudden, very
frightening downturn in the markets or a short, sharp recession,
not dissimilar to 1987, the basic upturn will continue until at
least 2005 and probably for several years hereafter."
[http://www.stratfor.com/services/giu/FORECAST/decadetocome/us2.asp]
Last week we started to see some indications that the "short, sharp
recession" that wouldn't surprise us may be ready to not surprise
us.
Our attention was riveted last week by the behavior of the "yield
curve" on U.S. Treasury instruments. The yield curve is simply the
interest rate that purchasers of these instruments would receive,
depending on the maturity date of the bill or bond. Under normal
circumstances, the yield curve is positive. That means that the
shorter maturities pay lower interest rates, while longer
maturities pay higher ones; the 30-year Treasury Bond pays the
highest. The reason is simple: People who buy longer-term bonds
take greater risks because the government doesn't have to redeem
these bonds for 30 years. If interest rates rise, the value of the
bonds on the secondary market could fall. People buying short-term
bonds can be paid off in months or even days, and they don't risk
their investment principle.
One of the important precursors of recessions is a negative yield
curve, in which short-term rates are higher than long-term ones.
And one of the triggers for a recession is a rise in interest
rates. Higher interest rates cause businesses to try to avoid long-
term borrowing and seek short-term borrowing. The result: Short-
term interest rates rise even higher than increases in long-term
rates. This inversion of the normal yield curve is a classic sign
of impending recession.
What we saw last week was a truly weird yield curve. The three-
month rate closed at about 5.7 percent, and the curve rose steadily
until the one-year yield was at a little more than six percent. The
yield curve was flat through three years, fell a bit at 10 years,
and fell again at 30 years to a yield of about 6.3 percent. There
was a lot of argument during the week about what this meant, with
people arguing that there was simply a lack of demand for the 30-
year bond, and that it therefore didn't mean anything, since there
was no piling on at the short end.
There may be some truth to this argument, but it misses the key
point, which is that the yield curve is getting very flat. A year
ago, the spread between the short-term rate and the long bond was
about 22 percent of the short bond's yield. Last week, it was about
10 percent. As striking is the shift in just one week. Short-term
rates rose about 0.2 percent while the long bond's yield fell a
little more than 0.3 percent. The fact of the matter is that the
short-term and long-term rates behaved as they would prior to a
recession. The mid-term rates did not conform.
And all this took place this week, taking us from a fairly normal
positive curve to a dramatically strange curve - indeed, an
unsustainable one. The question here is whether it will flip back
to positive or proceed to a negative curve. Our bet has to be that
it will move to an inverted, negative curve, because we cannot
explain what happened this week except as part of a transition.
Healthy bond markets do not produce these strange results and then
flop back to normal.
That is particularly the case with the Federal Reserve Bank clearly
following a policy leading to higher interest rates. Since the
Fed's operations have much more control over short-term rates than
long-term ones, we expect that the flight from the long-term last
week - coupled with Fed policy - will push up short-term rates at
the expense of mid-term ones, giving us a classic negative yield
curve fairly quickly. Since that will pull not only borrowers, but
lenders as well, on the short side of the curve, the final outcome
should be a classic inversion - and a classical capital shortage.
The U.S. stock markets were also acting recessionary last week,
with a massive divergence developing between the highly speculative
NASDAQ, which reached new heights last week and the other indices,
which were fairly weak. The S&P 500, for example, crashed below its
50-day moving average and wound up close to the 200-day moving
average. In simple terms, that stinks. And if the S&P were to crash
below the 200-day moving average, by following through on its
decline this week, that would stink big time.
A classic indicator of market tops is a divergence in indices. In
previous markets, people looked for divergence between the Dow
Jones average and the Dow Jones Transportation Index. Today, the
two critical economic sectors are high tech and everything else.
With the NASDAQ representing high tech, we see a tremendous
divergence now developing between the two sectors. Worse, the
NASDAQ seems caught in a classic buying climax that can't be
sustained for very long. Either the rest of the market resumes its
trend upward, or the NASDAQ is going to be highly vulnerable.
One of the factors propping up the markets for the past half-decade
has been the lack of alternative places to park money. With
commodities at historically low prices and short-term interest
rates unattractive, buying stocks has seemed the only prudent
course. With short-term government interest rates moving toward six
percent and corporate paper even higher, the safety of money funds
is no longer quite so unattractive.
Even more interesting, of course, is the fact that commodities,
long languishing, are now booming, with gold leading the pack last
week. Higher commodity prices are also a precursor to recession,
since they raise the cost of production. Indeed, surging global
production has helped raise commodity prices, in a self-correcting
process. Virtually all commodities, with the exception of oil,
moved higher last week. Apart from being a recessionary sign in
itself, the dramatic moves in commodity prices give speculative
money an alternative arena in which to play, other than the stock
markets.
If our thinking is correct, then we expect this to trigger a market
sell-off in the near future. The market is a leading indicator to
the economy, tending to move three to six months before the economy
as a whole. Thus, if we are to begin to see a substantial downturn
in the market in the next month or so, we could reasonably expect a
recession to hit during the summer and fall of 2000.
There are certainly indicators that argue against a market decline.
First, net free reserves, the measure of how much liquidity there
is in the banking system, remain heavily positive. That means that
the Fed, regardless of its management of interest rates, has not
yet dramatically tightened banking liquidity. Second, for all the
talk of speculative fever, the price-to-earnings ratio of the S&P
500 is no higher than it was last year, and is in fact somewhat
lower, reflecting solid profits. By that measure, there is no
reason for a correction. Finally, in Stratfor's absolutely
unscientific survey, everyone is convinced that the boom cannot go
on much longer. There is such absolute conviction that the good
times must end, that we tend to think they won't.
Nevertheless, there is one good argument in favor of a short-term
recession: We are way overdue for one. Certainly there have been
major structural changes in the economy that have made the current
expansion possible. But the laws of the business cycle have not
been abolished; they've only been stretched. Tremendous
inefficiency has crept into the very sector that has driven the
boom - small businesses. These businesses are experiencing severe
structural shortages, from skilled labor to office space, that
limit the ability to expand. Consider how the shortage of
programmers inhibits the ability of the software industry to
expand, multiply it over other industries, and you begin to see the
limiting factor. It is time for a pause.
Regardless of what the covers of Time and Newsweek may say in a few
months, it is not the end of the world, nor even the end of
capitalism - nor the end of prosperity. If what we think is
happening is indeed happening, then this is merely a downturn in an
economic expansion that began in 1982, and it will resume after a
few rough quarters. We do believe there is more serious trouble
looming later in the decade, but to paraphrase Redd Foxx, "This
ain't the big one."
However, this does open a very interesting political vista: the
2000 presidential election being fought out in the context of a
recession. Recall how a minor downturn in 1991-92 cost George Bush
the presidency and delivered Bill Clinton to the White House. One
of the mainstays of the Democrats' polling numbers is the fact that
the economy has performed splendidly during Clinton's presidency.
It is not clear that his policies made this possible, but nothing
he did prevented it. Voters have short memories. A recession, no
matter how mild, would make a Republican victory almost certain.
It would also awaken other sleeping issues, such as the trade
deficit. The deficit is massive, but tolerable in the context of a
booming economy. If the United States does go into recession later
this year, with rising unemployment and increasing business
failures, the question of foreign competition would certainly move
to the fore. This would dramatically increase tensions with Asia. A
recession would also close the door on any serious support for
Russia's economy, assuming that door is not already closed.
If we knew what the stock market was going to do we wouldn't be
working for a living, would we? And the stock market isn't the
economy. Nevertheless, when we lay all the accumulating facts side
by side, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that some serious
problems are developing. Obviously, the yield curve could correct
itself next week, and all this could go away. But with the Fed
policy being what it is, we find it hard to see how that curve can
regain a healthy upward angle. The more we look at it, the more it
appears that it may be time for a recession.
On Dec. 15, Richard Bush, managing director of the American
Institute in Taiwan, sent a very clear message to the frontrunners
in the upcoming March elections. "If the new Taiwan
administration's policies converge with our own interests, then
there will be no problem. If they do not, then we will discuss the
differences in a spirit of friendship," Bush said. Bush added that
the United States will adhere to the one-China policy, which views
Taiwan as a Chinese province.
Bush's statement was a friendly warning from Washington's
diplomatic arm into Taipei. Bush was clearly warning Taiwan's
presidential candidates: If they antagonize China during their
upcoming campaigns, they risk U.S. support for Taiwan. The
statement revealed two important elements in the U.S. position.
First, Washington's interests demand continued peace in the Taiwan
Strait. Second, Washington sees China as increasingly cantankerous
and unstable, ready to pounce if provoked.
The United States has many reasons to anticipate an escalation of
tensions during the run-up to Taiwan's March 18 elections. The most
compelling may be historical precedent. Just before Taiwan's 1996
elections, China launched missiles into its Taiwan's coastal
waters, prompting the United States to speed two carrier battle
groups into the region to defuse the crisis.
In recent months, President Lee Teng-hui has revived antagonism by
declaring that Taiwan has "special state-to-state" relations with
China; China promptly took this as an affront to its official one-
China policy. The president's statement has re-popularized the
notion of autonomy for Taiwan. Now all three presidential
contenders have at least stated that Taipei needs to negotiate with
Beijing on equal footing.
[ http://www.stratfor.com/asia/commentary/m9912062245.htm ]
Bush's statements make clear that the United States is reluctant to
see cross-straits tension escalate. Both domestic and international
factors determine this stance. First, 2000 is an election year in
the United States as well, and China has already become a hot topic
because of espionage and campaign finance scandals. If the United
States is involved in a military confrontation with China, China
will be the determinant issue in the American presidential
campaign.
In economic terms as well, the United States does not want tension
to burn the bridges that connect U.S. business interests to the
mainland. Only weeks ago, Washington's 13-year diplomatic
initiative to open China's markets to the world culminated in the
signing of a bilateral trade agreement which will help China become
a member of the World Trade Organization. The United States doesn't
want a conflict in the strait to trip up the agreement before
investors reap the economic benefits of access to China.
The United States has yet another reason to want peace in the
Taiwan Strait. The waters between China and Taiwan are the most
important shipping route in the region; cross-straits tension could
halt the flow of trade through the region, potentially endangering
Asia's faltering export-driven economic recovery. During the 1996
imbroglio, shipping was disturbed for over two weeks. Japan was
forced to divert one-third of its ships from the area.
But it appears Washington senses that China is on edge. Beijing
could very easily respond to provocation with hostility. There are
some obvious reasons for this concern. Later this month, China will
regain control over Macau, freeing China to focus efforts on
Taiwan, its last unresolved territorial issue. Chinese President
Jiang Zemin pointed this out himself after his Dec. 10 summit with
Russian President Boris Yelstin.
Washington may finally be sensing as well that confrontation with
Taiwan could be a handy release valve for the pressures building up
within China. A nationalistic campaign to recover what is viewed as
a renegade province could successfully distract the Chinese people
from the economic malaise and dissatisfaction that have triggered
over 60,000 protests this year. China's instability has become
increasingly apparent during the past year. The government has lead
a crackdown on Falun Gong and other organized "threats" to
stability, while methodically sealing off its borders.
In a full-blown crisis, the United States would probably not
abandon Taiwan outright. Strategically, the island is too essential
to U.S. policy in the region, which centers on containing China.
The waters around Taiwan are the gateway into the South China Sea,
an important shipping route and the link to the Koreas and Japan.
If China were to control these waters, it could effectively control
the region. But Washington is clearly going to do what it can to
dampen the sentiments that favor autonomy or independence for
Taiwan.
Last week, the United States launched a missile from Vandenberg Air
Force Base in California toward Kwajalein Atoll, several thousand
miles away in the Pacific. A few minutes later, an interceptor
missile was launched from the island. Its mission was to destroy
the incoming intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) in a test of
a new anti-ballistic missile (ABM) system. The interceptor missed.
The test failed.
The responses were predictable. Opponents of an ABM system claimed
that the failure proved the inherent unreliability of a missile
defense system. Whatever the virtues of an ABM system, the claim
that this test proved its non-viability is absurd. Early tests of
any system are expected to fail. That's why they are called tests.
You only have to think about the failures of missiles early in the
space program to realize that. This failure tells us nothing. Which
is not to say that an ABM system of this sort is a good idea. It
just means that this failure should not influence anyone's opinion,
one way or another.
Let's consider how we got to this position. In 1972, the United
States and Soviet Union signed an agreement banning the creation of
an ABM system. The treaty was meaningless; no one really knew how
to build such a system. The Soviets deployed some hardware around
Moscow, but calling it an anti-missile system would have been
charitable. The 1972 treaty, therefore, was a classic in diplomatic
irrelevance, banning what was effectively impossible.
By the 1980s, missile defense capabilities appeared to have evolved
to the point that a serious defense was possible. Ronald Reagan's
Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), or Star Wars, was a project
intended to reconsider the question of whether an effective defense
against missiles was possible under new technology. Opponents of
SDI argued (a) that it would not work and (b) that it would de-
stabilize the balance achieved by Mutual Assured Destruction, the
doctrine that deterrence rested on assurance that an attack by one
side would result in an annihilating attack by the other side. Now,
If (a) were true, then (b) would not be. Nonetheless, the same
people who criticized SDI for being ineffective were frequently the
ones arguing that it was destabilizing.
The defenders of SDI managed to get as tangled in logic as the
opponents. The primary criticism of a missile-based ABM system was
that it was like hitting a bullet with a bullet. A secondary
criticism was that the interception would likely take place inside
the atmosphere, with results as nasty as if they weren't
intercepted. Finally, since each ground-based interceptor would
have a very limited range, the number of interceptors needed to
protect the United States from incoming missiles was mind-boggling.
All of these were good arguments.
SDI therefore focused on a new class of weapons. These weapons were
to be based in space rather than on earth, so that they could
intercept launches as they left the atmosphere or in mid-flight,
rather than on the last seconds of their trajectory. More
important, these weapons would consist of laser beams, particle
beams, X-rays and other speed-of-light weapons. These speed-of-
light weapons would take care of the problem of hitting a bullet
with a bullet. A missile moving at seven miles per second was
virtually standing still. Space-based, speed-of- light weapons
would be able to handle any missile.
That was probably true, yet the SDI initiate failed to generate an
effective missile defense. In the 1980s, no one knew how to build
weapons able to generate sufficient energy to fry an ICBM thousands
of miles away. The generation, storage and release of huge amounts
of energy was theoretically possible, but no one knew how to do it
with sufficient speed so that thousands of missiles could be dealt
with between the time they left the atmosphere and the time they
reentered. Ideas like using giant mirrors to focus the light of the
sun were floated, but the fact was that this was a great idea with
a single defect. No one knew how to build it. Other ideas, like
Brilliant Pebbles, in which thousands of little rockets with
sensors would be deployed, were floated. But by now, the time for
exotic technologies has passed.
SDI hit its technological stonewall, serendipitously, it spawned a
range of technologies that generated a revolution at the
operational level of warfare.
The old idea of a ground-based missile defense system resurfaced.
This resurrection coincided with a transformation in geopolitical
realities. A ground-based system would be impotent in the face of a
Soviet attack. But by the time the idea of ground-based system was
reborn, the Soviets were on their last legs. As important, during
Desert Storm, the single most feared weapon in the Iraqi arsenal
was the Scud missile, a fairly primitive, relatively short-range
missile - that killed more American soldiers than any other single
system when it hit Saudi Arabia.
Attention turned to two missions. Defending a theater of operations
against incoming missiles was one. The other was defending the
United States against ICBMs launched one or two at a time by lesser
powers like Iraq, Iran, Libya or Syria. With the collapse of the
Soviet Union, the primary objection to ground-based missile defense
systems evaporated. The United States no longer had to defend
against 5,000 incoming warheads. It only had to defend against a
handful. The developing technologies could also be used to defend
against shorter-range systems within a theater, like the Persian
Gulf or the Balkans.
Enter the current series of tests. Consider that the primary
argument for the current system is that it will defend against
"rogue" states that might launch a missile attack against the
United States. The list is short of nations with motive to attack
the United States and with the potential ability to build both
atomic weapons and ICBMs: Iraq, Iran, Libya, North Korea and Syria.
It is far from clear that any of these nations have nuclear
technology that can be married to an effective ICBM. More
important, contrary to popular myth, none of these nations is ruled
by lunatics. Quite the contrary, when we look at the leadership of
Iraq, Libya or North Korea we see people who are in the business of
surviving. Iraqi President Saddam Hussein took a calculated risk
with a big potential payoff in 1990. The gamble failed, but it
wasn't a reckless act, just a bad bet. He didn't know the United
States would intervene. He left himself room for retreat, hung on
and survived. He may be a brute, but he is not a moron. Saddam
knows that if he launches two or three ICBMs at the United States,
his country would be turned into radioactive glass, and he would be
playing a leading role in a Geiger counter.
The primary motive for these nations to build nuclear-capable
missiles would be the same as that of the great powers: deterrence.
The United States would certainly think twice before bombing an
Iraq with several survivable, nuclear-tipped ICBMs. But as with all
deterrence, the value is lost at the moment of launch. Moreover, if
the United States genuinely believed that someone was planning to
launch an ICBM at the United States, U.S. satellite intelligence
would pick up the construction of the site months or even years
before it was intact. The low-cost response would be to destroy the
launch site, the missile factory and the nuclear facility with
preemptive, preferably conventional, air strikes. If necessary, the
State Department could claim that it had discovered a secret plan
for genocide. That would be the low-cost missile defense, both more
effective and immediately available.
There is a much more serious problem. We are now in the year 2000.
The assumption that the primary threat facing the United States
comes from a handful of rogue countries is simply no longer true.
Russia and China are both major nuclear powers whose relations with
the United States are rapidly deteriorating. We do not expect a
nuclear exchange, but we do not think that the only challenges
facing the United States come from a handful of isolated countries.
The strategic environment changes daily. The real issue facing the
United States is its ability to maintain a presence in Eurasia in
the face of Russian and Chinese animosity. In the future,
interventions against countries like Serbia will likely occur in
the context of their receiving backing, political and material,
from other great powers. It is no longer reasonable to expect that
- as has been the case in Haiti, Iraq, Panama, Serbia, Somalia and
others - the defenders will be strategically isolated.
This means two things. First, Western interventions will become
much less frequent, as risks rise. Therefore, the concept of the
isolated, rogue state is going to be replaced by coalitions grouped
around great powers. The probability of one or two missiles
launched by a rogue power decreases from its already low
probability. One of the consequences of coalitions is that the
great power at the center not only supports the lesser power, but
also imposes discipline. Serbia, allied with Russia in two years,
will be more difficult to attack but more predictable in its
response.
Second, the ongoing debate over national missile defense
consistently draws focus away from the real battlefield necessity:
space strategy's role in supporting conventional forces. U.S.
conventional forces have become dependent on space-based systems
for communications and intelligence, as illustrated by the 1999
NATO conflict with Yugoslavia. The Joint Direct Attack Munition
(JDAM) dropped by B-2 bombers depended on guidance from U.S. Global
Position System satellites (GPS). Targeters relied on
reconnaissance satellites for target selection. Orders inside the
theater, as well as between the theater and Washington and
Brussels, depended upon satellites. Even weather forecasting was
managed by satellites.
Any serious opponent of the United States knows that it cannot win
a conventional war while these satellite systems function. An
opponent also knows that if that satellite system is destroyed, the
United States will be left deaf, dumb and disoriented. Destroying
just a handful of the 24 GPS satellites currently in orbit could
leave infantry patrols lost and munitions undeliverable.
The fundamental issue in missile defense is not defending U.S.
cities against ICBMs launched by North Korea. The launch sites can
be destroyed in a week, and there is nothing North Korea could do
about it. That is a side issue. The central issue is defending U.S.
satellites against enemy missile, laser and other attacks. The
problem with the current program is that it is fighting yesterday's
war. It is focused on random missile attacks on the United States
from isolated powers. The real issue is going to be fighting
conventional wars at the lowest possible cost. That means that U.S.
space-based systems are indispensable.
Obviously, we have no idea what defensive capabilities have been
added to U.S. satellites. We assume that critical reconnaissance
satellites can maneuver to avoid anti-satellite systems and are
hardened against ground-based laser systems. One would assume that
serious thought and investment has gone into both the defense of
satellites and redundancy in the event of attrition. At the same
time, no one knows what surprises a clever enemy can devise to get
around defenses. Such surprises can be catastrophic to units as far
down the chain as the infantry squad on patrol.
Defending American cities against rogue states seems the wrong
mission at the wrong time. Preemptive strikes and the promise of
nuclear annihilation is a sufficient defense. The new mission is
sustaining and operating forces in the back yards of enemies with
sufficient sophistication and capabilities to pose a real threat.
These forces will strike at U.S. satellites in order to massively
reduce the capabilities of conventional forces. Defending U.S.
space-based assets is critical for U.S. geopolitical interests.
Ample reports exist of Chinese, Russian and other nations
developing ground-based lasers designed to destroy satellites.
Undoubtedly, anyone thinking about conflict with the United States
is spending a great deal of time contemplating the vulnerabilities
of U.S. communications, navigation and intelligence satellites.
They undoubtedly are forming their battle plans. These plans have
to include space-based attacks on U.S. systems. That means that
there has to be space-based defenses for satellite systems. A
purely defensive posture on the most valuable and scarce military
resources cannot work. Anti-satellite systems can only be countered
actively.
Which brings us back to SDI. The revolution in sensor technology
had a great deal to do with SDI. Now, SDI may be re-applicable to
its original mission. SDI failed because speed-of-light
technologies were not available to complement its sensor
technologies. Over the coming decade, speed of light may well come
into its own. Certainly it will be used as an anti-satellite
system. It can be used to defend satellites. By extension, it may
now be applicable to a working anti-missile system.
In the 1980s, SDI was premature and was focused on an unlikely
threat. Now, the threat against U.S. satellites is far from
unlikely and is potentially crippling. As important, many of the
technologies being contemplated in the early 1980s are not as
farfetched a generation later. From energy weapons to Brilliant
Pebbles, concepts that could not be operationalized in 1985 may be
possible by 2005. Within this context, an effective space-based
anti-ICBM system might well be feasible. The failed test over the
Pacific gives us an opportunity to reconsider what is possible and
necessary in the next generation. Decisions made in the wake of the
collapse of the Soviet Union and Desert Storm need to be rethought
under any circumstances.
The real issue is not defense against rogue nations, but a general
reconsideration of U.S. space strategy in an age of increasingly
great power tension and the likelihood of ongoing conventional
operations far from the United States. The dollars spent on
defending against the threats of the 1990s might be better spent in
preparation for the wars of 2010 and 2020. If planners simply think
through how U.S. capabilities would be affected if space-based
systems suddenly were destroyed, the importance of a practical
space control strategy would become apparent.