War From Cyberspace

War From Cyberspace

Mini Teaser: As Obama appoints Howard A. Schmidt to a new cybersecurity post, former cyberczar Richard Clarke shows America is the most vulnerable country in the world.

by Author(s): Richard Clarke

(c) GettyON OCTOBER 1, just beyond the Beltway inside Fort Meade, a four-star general became the first head of America's new Cyber Command. Subordinate to General Keith Alexander are the Tenth Fleet and the Twenty-Fourth Air Force. The fleet has no ships, and the air-force unit has neither aircraft nor missiles. Their weapons are ones and zeroes. Their battlefield is cyberspace.

The mission of Cyber Command is to protect the U.S. military's networks and to be ready to launch offensive cyber attacks on a potential enemy. Those offensive cyber attacks have the potential to reach out from cyberspace into the physical dimension, causing giant electrical generators to shred themselves, trains to derail, high-tension power-transmission lines to burn, gas pipelines to explode, aircraft to crash, weapons to malfunction, funds to disappear and enemy units to walk into ambushes. Welcome to warfare in the twenty-first century.

We have become accustomed to the pilots of Predator and Reaper drones driving a few miles to their homes in Virginia and dinner with their kids after having "flown" aircraft all day on the other side of the globe, firing deadly Hellfire missiles into houses of terrorists in Pakistan. That looks like war as PlayStation: death by joystick, no risk of being shot down, no chance of capture. Now, with cyber war, we have another means of launching attacks on the other side of the world, this time with only a keyboard. In Vietnam and Iraq, U.S. pilots were shot down while attempting to bomb enemy air-defense missiles. Now, a cyber warrior might simply shut off an air-defense network or cause missiles to explode on their launch rails, not by using a laser-guided missile, but by activating a logic bomb. Cyber war could well mean fewer casualties, less physical destruction. Surely then, it is a good idea.


PERHAPS NOT. Much like sixty years ago when we first began to deal with strategic nuclear weapons, we have neither outlined a clear strategy nor had an open debate about how best to deal with this new capability and this new threat. As former-Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara discovered, without a real strategy for the use of strategic nuclear weapons, we risked annihilation of both ourselves and our enemies. The Strategic Air Command (SAC) had a simple plan: the United States would perceive when the Soviet Union was getting ready to attack us and then SAC would go first, launching all of its weapons against all of its possible targets in the Soviet Union, China and the Warsaw Pact nations of Eastern Europe. Horrified by that idea, McNamara commissioned work that developed a strategy of deterrence, including withholding attacks on cities, controlling escalation, minimizing crisis instability and initiating nuclear-arms control. Much of the development of that strategy was done in public, in speeches by then-President John F. Kennedy and McNamara, and in books by academics such as Herman Kahn, founder of the Hudson Institute, and MIT professor William Kaufmann. This is exactly the kind of discussion we need to have today. For it is not an overstatement to say that the body of work on atomic strategy initiated in the Kennedy administration probably prevented a nuclear war in which hundreds of millions may have died.

We sit at a similar historical moment. War fighting is forever changed. Though it will never produce the kind of death toll of nuclear weapons, we can see echoes of these same risks and challenges in today's newest cyber-war battlefield. We've developed a plethora of gee-whiz technological capabilities in the past few years, but cyber war is a wholly new form of combat, the implications of which we do not yet fully understand. Its inherent nature rewards countries that act swiftly and encourages escalation.


AS IN the 1960s, the speed of war is rapidly accelerating. Then, long-range missiles could launch from the prairie of Wyoming and hit Moscow in only thirty-five minutes. Strikes in cyber war move at a rate approaching the speed of light. And this speed favors a strategy of preemption, which means the chances that people can become trigger-happy are high. This, in turn, makes cyber war all the more likely. If a cyber-war commander does not attack quickly, his network may be destroyed first. If a commander does not preempt an enemy, he may find that the target nation has suddenly raised new defenses or even disconnected from the worldwide Internet. There seems to be a premium in cyber war to making the first move.

And much as in the nuclear era, there is a real risk of escalation with cyber war. Nuclear war was generally believed to be something that might quickly grow out of conventional combat, perhaps initiated with tanks firing at each other in a divided Berlin. The speed of new technologies created enormous risks for crisis instability and miscalculation. Today, the risks of miscalculation are even higher, enhancing the chances that what begins as a battle of computer programs ends in a shooting war. Cyber war, with its low risks to the cyber warriors, may be seen by a decision maker as a way of sending a signal, making a point without actually shooting. An attacker would likely think of a cyber offensive that knocked out an electric-power grid and even destroyed some of the grid's key components (keeping the system down for weeks), as a somewhat antiseptic move; a way to keep tensions as low as possible. But for the millions of people thrown into the dark and perhaps the cold, unable to get food, without access to cash and dealing with social disorder, it would be in many ways the same as if bombs had been dropped on their cities. Thus, the nation attacked might well respond with "kinetic activity."

Responding, however, assumes that you know who attacked you. And, one of the major differences between cyber war and conventional war-one that makes the battlefield more perilous-is what cyber warriors call "the attribution problem." Put more simply, it is a matter of whodunit. In cyberspace, attackers can hide their identity, cover their tracks. Worse, they may be able to mislead, placing blame on others by spoofing the source.

In 2007, the Russian government denied that it had engaged in primitive cyber war against Estonia that took out such things as the financial-services sector, and in 2009 claimed it was not responsible for largely identical activity against Georgia; though Russia did concede that some of its citizens, outraged over the conflict in Abkhazia, might have launched the denial-of-service attacks.

In July of this year, cyber attacks were launched against commercial and government websites in the United States and South Korea. The targets included the White House and Washington Post homepages. South Korean intelligence officials blamed the North. The attacks, however, seemed to originate inside South Korea.

For years, masses of data have been stolen from sensitive U.S. government and defense-contractor computers in attacks that investigators have code-named "Moonlight Maze" and "Titan Rain." Which nation-or nonstate actor-has repeatedly performed the brazen cyber espionage has never been clearly established. What is clear is that cyber warfare poses new risks that we have yet to fully grasp.


THE UNITED States thinks that its cyber warriors are the best at offense, with the capability of shutting down enemy air defenses, electric-power grids, rail systems and telephony. The United States has probably already penetrated many such networks and laced them with trap doors (ways to get back in easily) and logic bombs (software that would wipe out everything on a network).

Such offensive prowess does nothing to defend our own networks from similar attacks, however, and the current U.S. defense systems protect only parts of the federal government, and not civilian or private-sector infrastructure. No nation is as dependent on cyber systems and networks for the operation of its infrastructure, economy and military as the United States. Yet, few national governments have less control over what goes on in its cyberspace than Washington. And these major lapses in our defense present a threat we ignore at extremely high cost.

The possibility of an electric-power grid being hit by a cyber attack is less far-fetched than one might think. A CIA official has admitted that at least one blackout outside the United States was already caused by a cyber attack. An Energy Department laboratory determined that a cyber attack from the Internet could weave its way into the digital control system of a generator and cause the device to self-destruct. Officials have privately confirmed media accounts that logic bombs have already been placed in America's power-grid control systems, presumably by foreign cyber warriors.

And this problem goes deeper still. The "critical infrastructure" of the transportation, finance, energy and communications sectors are owned and operated by nongovernmental entities, corporations that have proven highly resistant to regulation. The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) issued new cybersecurity guidelines to U.S. power companies in January 2008, requiring greater separation of the operations systems from the public Internet. But it took two years for these rules to go into effect (they start in January 2010), and many critics do not believe that the FERC has the ability to audit compliance. The leaders of those corporations, when asked about cybersecurity, almost uniformly believe that they should fund as much corporate cybersecurity as is necessary to maintain profitability and no more. They will defend themselves against cyber crime. Defending them against a cyber war, they all concur, is the job of the government.

Image: Pullquote: War as PlayStation: death by joystick, no risk of being shot down, no chance of capture.Essay Types: Essay