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The calendar isn't any kinder to dreams of a missile shield. The Clinton program--a ground-based system--is the nearest to being fielded, and it flunked two of its first three tests. The only other possible national system on the drawing board--an orbiting network of killer satellites--won't be ready until at least 2020. That's why the Pentagon is scurrying to modify two systems now in development. The Navy's ship-based missiles and the Air Force's plane-based lasers were originally designed to take out shorter-range missiles. But the military is grooming them to play major roles in a national missile-defense system aimed at ocean-crossing ICBMs.
So what's Don Rumsfeld to do? Given the constraints imposed by physics, fiscal reality and foreign policy, the man who served as co-chair of Bob Dole's failed 1996 campaign will have to use Bill Clinton's system as his base. Pentagon officials say Bush's system will have to begin with Clinton's ground-based system--a handful of missiles deployed as early as 2004--followed by more research into ship- and plane-based interceptors. Ultimately, missile-defense advocates want the space-based lasers, ready to destroy missiles fired from anywhere at any time, bound for any place.
Significantly, Bush didn't mention space-based missile defense as a possible solution. But Rumsfeld did, alarming those who fear turning outer space into a battlefield. More defensive layers mean fewer missiles can leak through. The downside? A layered system will cost more money, take more time and generate more opposition from allies, foes and arms-control advocates. But adding space to the missile-defense recipe is part of Rumsfeld's brash style, one that has led some Pentagon officials to dub him "the lean, mean, in-fighting machine." Rumsfeld, a former Navy pilot and Princeton wrestling champ, relishes such skirmishes. He took command of the Pentagon with his own boarding party, a quiet team of trusted aides, and has begun cloaking his plans to remake the military behind heavy drapes of secrecy.
Rummy and his posse have set up more than a dozen panels to quietly review the Pentagon from top to bottom. The uniformed military, not surprisingly, is unhappy with the secrecy. "He's breeding an atmosphere of distrust by not including the military in his deliberations," an admiral gripes privately. "He's playing things too close to the vest, and that's leading to errors." Case in point, says the officer, is last week's China flip-flop: Rummy's Pentagon had announced an end to U.S. military contacts with the Chinese armed forces--and then reversed itself in a matter of hours, promising to review contacts on a case-by-case basis. The White House quickly said a Pentagon aide had misspoken, despite Rumsfeld's reputation for running a disciplined operation.
Rumsfeld rejects such bellyaching. "Not everybody's involved in everything that goes on," he said last week. His famous, copyrighted "Rumsfeld's Rules," some 150 maxims for surviving in Washington are a mix of Peter Drucker and Yogi Berra, puts it succinctly: "If you are not criticized, you may not be doing much."