By Lt Gen Bruce L. Fister, USAF (Retired)

Much has been written about Operation Just Cause, which in the early planning stages was known as “Blue Spoon.”This paper is written from my vantage point as the sole surviving senior commander of the Joint Special Operations Task Force for the Panama mission. My boss during this time was General Wayne Downing who passed away a few years ago. Wayne was a dear friend and one of the best commanders with whom I had the pleasure of serving.

As I recall, planning for Blue Spoon began in May of 1989. Combat operations were set to begin at 0100 on 20 December 1989. The night before, Gen Jim Lindsay, commander US Special Operation Command, called me at my headquarters and asked if we could call the Panama operation something other than Blue Spoon— a spoon didn’t seem to inspire, even if it was blue. I agreed and we settled on Operation Just Cause.
Prior to the operation, during November, I was deployed with an undercover force to Panama called Nifty Package. We resided in Hanger One at Howard AFB on the south end of the Panama Canal zone. This force included a small contingent of Army special operators, four MH-60 Blackhawks and six A/MH-6 “Little Birds,”two of which were armed with guns and rockets, and two Air Force AC-130H gunships. It was a loose cover and we had two missions if conflict started. First, was to rescue Kurt Muse held in the Panamanian prison, across the street from the Panamanian Army Headquarters. Kurt was an undercover agent in Panama operating among other things, a pirate radio station. Our second mission was to capture Panamanian dictator Manual Noriega.
During the November deployment to Howard AFB, we conducted rehearsals every other night using the Department of Defense elementary school, which was approximately midway up the Canal Zone. The elementary school building had the same planform as the Panamanian prison, so it was perfect for rehearsals and to practice various contingency operations that might occur should things not go exactly as expected. Additionally, every other night we sent an MH-60 from Howard to the Gorgas Army Hospital helicopter pad in Panama City, with directions to extend their flight path over the prison so personnel guarding Kurt Muse grew accustomed to hearing helicopter noise so as to not be alerted if and when we assaulted the prison. This also gave us the opportunity to record videos of the prison and to serve as a morale booster for Kurt.
At the end of November of 1989, the Pentagon directed that we redeploy our force back to the United States. This didn’t last very long. On the 15th of December four American service members were assaulted by members of the Panamanian Defense Force (PDF). One American died of his wounds. Sometime later that evening, a Navy couple in town for dinner were also assaulted by the PDF. These incidents were the final straw and President George H. W. Bush ordered US Forces to invade Panama.
With the President fully engaged, Gen Wayne Downing and his small staff immediately flew to Panama on the 18th of December and set up a joint operations center in Hanger One. Shortly thereafter, President Bush ordered that we execute Operation Just Cause with a D-day, 20 December and H-hour of 0100. As General Downing’s deputy, I worked with General Lindsay to begin movement of forces to Panama. This was a major undertaking which involved Army Special Forces from Ft Bragg, North Carolina, the 82d Airborne Division also from Ft Bragg, Navy SEALs from Dam Neck, Virginia, Army Rangers from both Hunter Army Airfield, South Carolina, and McChord AFB, Washington, KC-135 and KC-10 aerial refueling tankers from McGuire AFB, New Jersey, four additional AC-130H gunships from Hurlburt Field, Florida, two EF-111s from Cannon AFB, New Mexico, additional C-130s from Pope AFB and Hurlburt Field, and C-141s from Charleston AFB, South Carolina. All these forces had to travel through the Yucatan Gap, the part of the Gulf of Mexico between Cuba and Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula and in order not to be detected by the Cubans, all air assets descended to 500 feet while transiting through the area. We also put an F-15 fighter combat air patrol west of the planned route, just off the coast of Mexico in case the Cubans detected the force and tried to intercept it with their fighter aircraft. Finally, there were MH-53 Pave Low and MH-47 special operations helicopters coming from Hurlburt Field, which inflight refueled with HC-130 tankers from nearby Eglin AFB. Finally, four MH-60 Pave Hawks were delivered to Howard AFB in a C-5 Galaxy transport. There were 65 aircraft total in this movement.
As mentioned, the mission of this military operation was to first rescue Kurt Muse, then capture Manuel Noriega, while also protecting American citizens, and ensure the security of the Panama Canal. The Joint Special Operations Task Force was assigned 27 targets for the operation. By the 19th of December our forces were in place to begin the operation and 15 C-141s were enroute to air drop the Rangers on Torrijos-Tocumen Airfield (Panama’s large international airport) and 15 C-130s were enroute to air drop Rangers on Rio Hato Airfield, located toward the western boundary of Panama. This was a complicated air plan and Colonel Mark Race directed the planning and execution of the air operation. I deployed aboard the C-130 Airborne Command, Control, and Communications aircraft (ABCCC) from Pope AFB, departing just before an ice storm precluded us from flying.
As the 0100, 20 December H-hour approached, General Downing had reason to believe that the operation was compromised and he directed that H-hour be advanced 15 minutes to 0045, 20 December. This change in the H-hour went smoothly, but that successful adjustment had a back story from five years earlier.
Back in February 1985 the Joint Task Force was involved in an exercise off Guam, where the target was an abandoned airfield on Tinian Island. During this exercise, I recommended to Gen Carl Stiner, the task force commander at the time, that we move H-hour forward 15 minutes because there was no opposition force observed on the Tinian runway. Unfortunately, our procedures for moving a time forward had never been practiced and there were problems with communications all of which resulted in a major aircraft accident; an MC-130E landed on top of an MH-60 helicopter that was hovering in the touchdown zone. There were some serious injuries, but fortunately there were no fatalities. After this accident, I was determined that our task force be able to move H-hour either forward or backwards and we practiced that during subsequent exercises. So on 20 December, when General Downing directed that H-hour be moved forward 15 minutes, it went off without a hitch.
At 0045, 20 December four MH-6 Little Birds landed on top of the Panamanian prison infiltrating several special operators while two Little Bird gunships eliminated PDF .50 caliber machine gun positions located on two high rise apartments, each looking down on the prison. Simultaneously, two AC-130H gunships destroyed the eight buildings within the PDF headquarters compound across the street from the prison in less than eight minutes. A Special Forces shooter fast roped down the side of the prison and shot the PDF guard, who was directed to kill Kurt Muse in the event there was a rescue attempt. The special operators entered the prison, flex cuffed all the guards, and freed Kurt from his cell. They took Muse up to the roof and put him on the side of an MH-6 Little Bird and began to escape from the prison. Unfortunately, the Little Bird received enemy fire and a round hit the engine and the helicopter fluttered off the side of the prison wall. The pilot maintained control and air-taxied two blocks, turned left a block and then crashed. The five operators took Kurt and formed a defensive position to wait for an M-113 armored personal carrier to pick him up and take him to the rendezvous location in an elementary school yard in Panama City. We had practiced this contingency event multiple times at the elementary school in the Canal Zone, as I mentioned earlier. Kurt Muse was later flown out of Panama and reunited with his wife, Ann, in Virginia. (For those interested, I recommend Kurt Muse’s book Six Minutes to Freedom.)
I remained airborne in the ABCCC on the 20th for the duration of initial operations and finally returned to Ft Bragg after 22 hours in the air. Two days later I was back in Hanger One at Howard as we ran stability operations across Panama and captured the leaders of the PDF and further dissolved the PDF. One of our most successful tactics was the “Ma Bell” maneuver where we would put an AC-130H above a PDF cantonment, called them on the telephone, told them to stack arms, and then we would take them prisoner. Another was to put operators in M-113s, send them to suspect PDF hideouts throughout the city, knock on the door, and invite them aboard and take them to a makeshift cantonment area in the Canal Zone as guests of the United States. Prisoners remained there until their names could be cleared, or they could further be imprisoned.
During these several days, our forces tracked Noriega, but were always two hours behind. They checked all his suspected hideouts, but finally cornered him in the Papal Nunica in Panama City; a property we could not violate. I kept an AC-130 over the Papal Nunciature 24 hours a day and General Downing kept his cot at the end of the causeway that connected the Papal Nunciature and the adjacent parking garage. Then over a couple of days and a lot of loud rock music, Noriega finally surfaced. A few days later, I was in our joint operations center when we put him on an MC-130E Combat Talon and made him a guest of the United States via the FBI in Miami, Florida.
This ended the operation for us special operators. The 7th Infantry Division came to Panama to conduct stability operations and put the government into the hands of the rightfully elected Panamanian leaders. It was off to the next exercise or operation which happened to be Desert Shield/Desert Storm in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iraq in August 1990. All in a day’s work and for me, off to Hurlburt Field to become the second commander of the new Air Force Special Operations Command.

About the Author: Lt Gen Bruce Fister served as an Air Force officer and pilot for over 32 years accumulating 7,000 hours flying time in multiple aircraft with 1,000 combat hours flying the C-123 during the Vietnam conflict. During his career, General Fister commanded at multiple levels and had leadership roles in Operation Urgent Fury in Grenada in 1983 and Operation Just Cause in Panama in 1989. He became the wing commander at Rhein Main AB in Germany days after the headquarters was bombed by the Bader Meinhof gang in 1985 and led the wing through the recovery and further defense against terrorist attacks. General Fister served as the second commander of Air Force Special Operations Command (1991-1994) followed by commanding the 15th Air Force before retiring. After retiring from the Air Force, he was the Executive Director of a Christian nonprofit organization for 10 years. General Fister has written two books: Growing and Building Faith, Prayer, and Leadership and Growing and Building Revised for you the Leader. He is also co-author of Lead to Serve, Serve to Lead. Leading Well in Turbulent Times with retired Brigadier General, Gwyn Armfield.

By Joe Tomczak, Lt Col, USAF

Separated by nearly fifty years, two Airmen, Edward Lansdale and Donald Wurster, led irregular warfare efforts in the Philippines. What can the next generation of AFSOF Airmen learn from their stories?

Editor’s note: The following article is adapted from the full-length monograph “Parallel Lives in the Indo-Pacific: Edward Lansdale, Donald Wurster, and the Irregular Warfare Mindset.” Air University Press, Kenney Papers on Indo-Pacific Security Studies, no. 5 (May 2023).

With more than two decades of counterinsurgency in the rear-view mirror and a renewed focus on deterring peer adversaries, articulating SOF’s role within the context of great-power competition is more important than ever. History has shown that strategic competition often manifests as brushfire conflicts, below the threshold of war, and in remote, austere locations. During the Cold War, this was where SOF thrived. In 2020, the Irregular Warfare Annex to the National Defense Strategy challenged the DoD to “embrace” and “make permanent the mindset” of irregular warfare—a task becoming more urgent as the collective memory and combat experience from 20 years of counterinsurgency exits the services. Given the attention on the “irregular warfare mindset,” what are its desirable attributes, and what contributions have Airmen made to these characteristics?
The parallel stories of two prominent Americans help further the discourse on the irregular warfare mindset. Two Airmen, Maj Gen Edward G. Lansdale and Lt Gen Donald C. Wurster, successfully navigated the intricacies of supporting a partner nation to achieve joint Filipino and American political objectives during two different eras in that country’s history. While Lansdale is better known for his controversial exploits in Vietnam, and Wurster is renowned for his time in command of AFSOC, the parallel stories of how these two officers employed irregular warfare strategies with remarkable symmetry present a compelling case study in special operations leadership. An examination of Lansdale and Wurster’s stories revealed five common traits: the ability to communicate a vision, build relationships, listen, question assumptions, and seek understanding before taking action. This article will explore those traits.
Then-Lt Col Edward Lansdale was a former marketing professional from California who set aside his career during World War II to work for the Office of Strategic Services (OSS). After the war, he was assigned to the Philippines as an Air Force intelligence officer. Between 1946 and 1953 Lansdale helped the government of the Republic of the Philippines suppress a revolt by a communist-aligned insurgent group during the Hukbalahap Insurrection. As the US navigated the first years of the Cold War, Lansdale led a small team of unconventional warfare (UW) specialists who advised Ramón Magsaysay, the Philippine Secretary of Defense. Together they developed and executed a counterinsurgency strategy to defeat the Huk leader, Luis Taruc. Lansdale built trust and consensus among stakeholders, sought out the enemy’s motivations, and prioritized the indirect application of military force.
A half-century later, then-Brig Gen Donald Wurster led Joint Task Force-510 (JTF-510) during the initial US effort to counter a violent extremist organization known as the Abu Sayyaf Group (ASG) on the island of Basilan in the southern Philippines from 2001 to 2002. Wurster was a pragmatic helicopter pilot whose time in rescue and special operations units imbued him with a leadership style that valued trust, discipline, and communication based on mission-type orders. Wurster was commanding Special Operations Command Pacific in the summer of 2001 when three Americans were taken hostage by ASG. JTF-510 was established to provide personnel and resources to support the Philippines in a counterinsurgency effort against ASG. In the early, uncertain days of the Global War on Terror, while much of the world’s attention was on Afghanistan, Wurster and his JTF successfully developed a counterinsurgency strategy, managed an array of political and military stakeholders, and communicated his vision for a light-footprint approach while honoring the realities of local politics. JTF-510’s advise, train, and assist mission culminated in an operation to rescue the American hostages held by ASG and a separate direct action where Philippines forces eliminated the terrorist group’s leader, Abu Sabaya.
Separated by five decades, Lansdale and Wurster employed effective information operations, civic actions, and partner force capacity building to achieve their military objectives and further joint Filipino and American interests in the Indo-Pacific region. Although the motivations and the nature of the enemies differed, each officer used the military and information resources at their disposal to further American foreign policy objectives while navigating the wider sensitive relationship between the US and the Philippines. As a secular evangelist for democracy, Lansdale demonstrated that a small group of Americans could help build the legitimacy of the Philippine government and undermine a communist insurgency without a large deployment of troops. Lansdale advocated for an approach based on influence and capacity-building to decision-makers in Washington desperate for solutions that did not require a substantial commitment of American troops. In the same vein, Wurster keenly assessed both the political sensitivities of operating in the Philippines as well as Washington’s desire to respond globally to Islamic extremism—offering an approach that carefully straddled the two overarching dynamics at play.
The following five common attributes in these two stories stand out. Each of these attributes alone is not unique to irregular warfare, but collectively they are well beyond the expectations of military leaders conducting conventional operations in traditional warfare. While not intended to be all-encompassing or a definitive definition of the irregular warfare mindset, Lansdale and Wurster’s common attributes help explain why they succeeded in accomplishing their missions in a complex and unstructured environment.

Trait 1: The Ability to Communicate a Vision and Control a Narrative
British author Emile Simpson asserts that “strategic narrative is the explanation of actions” that interprets events for a target audience through a lens of policy objectives. He further notes that “the key to counterinsurgency is to match actions and words so as to influence target audiences to subscribe to a given narrative.” Both Lansdale and Wurster understood the importance of providing the Philippine population with a convincing counter-narrative that undermined the insurgency. Equally as important to developing a counter-narrative was ensuring that the Philippine government had the capacity to follow through on what they were promising their people. Simpson draws an apt comparison to advertising when he notes, “The application of counter-insurgency doctrine can be compared to that of a sales technique. One may be the best salesman and apply the technique, but if the product is poor, one will still struggle to make the technique work.” Lansdale understood that the people of Luzon had to experience the military reforms Ramón Magsaysay touted publicly to choose the government over the Huks. Likewise, Wurster knew that his message of working shoulder to shoulder with the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) on Basilan would not resonate with the population unless they actually witnessed US troops supporting the AFP and improving life on the island in a way that ASG could not.
Both officers understood that their messaging had to, as Simpson put it, “align the rational and the emotional.” Lansdale and Wurster were fluent in the dialects of heart and mind, infusing emotion into their narrative to the Philippine public while communicating a national interest-based argument to stakeholders in Washington. After identifying potential in Ramón Magsaysay after a chance encounter at a dinner in Washington, DC, in 1950, Lansdale lobbied leaders in Washington to pressure Philippine President Elpido Quirino to install Magsaysay as Secretary of Defense. Likewise, Wurster not only continually reassured Philippine government officials that JTF-510 would work through and not around the AFP, but he also effectively persuaded influential US senators to fund humanitarian construction on Basilan by articulating why civic action could help JTF-510 expel ASG from the island.
The performance of these two officers in the Philippines shows it is not simply enough to create a strategic narrative. Leaders in unstructured environments must also communicate it effectively though deeds. Both officers faced similar challenges in communicating their strategic messages, and each came to appreciate the role the press could play in narrative shaping. Lansdale and Wurster were both initially inclined to avoid public relations, as evidenced by Lansdale’s assertion of military public affairs being the “lowest form of life” and Wurster’s claim that he would “rather eat glass” than talk to the press. Despite these sentiments at the outset, both officers quickly evolved to harness the power of media to communicate their respective narratives.
Lansdale’s advertising background meant that he could set aside his reservations and recognize the importance of building a positive affiliation with the press in Manila. Similarly, Wurster used close ties with the press to shape the narrative that JTF-510’s operations in the Sulu archipelago were a continuation of the Balikatan series of joint military exercises. He was conscious that the symmetry of effort on the parts of the American and Philippine forces had to be visually represented and continually reinforced with messaging. At regular press conferences, Wurster sat side by side with Philippine Defense Secretary Angelo Reyes and AFP Marine General Emmanuel Teodosio to reassure the public that the US was treating the AFP as an equal partner and not a little brother, as had been the perception during the colonial era. This shaping of public opinion was critical to the Philippine government’s ability to endorse the operation and mitigate public outcry regarding the presence of American troops in the country.

Trait 2: The Ability to Build Relationships and Network for Effect
Inherent to the irregular warfare mindset is a distinct emphasis on the importance of relationships with key stakeholders who can enable mission success. Lansdale cultivated his most important relationship with Magsaysay, first by introducing him to decision-makers in Washington, then by inviting Magsaysay to live in Lansdale’s own quarters in Manila during a shortage of available housing. There is little doubt the US would have faced a nearly insurmountable challenge in encouraging the military reforms needed to bolster the Philippine government’s credibility without the mutually beneficial nature of this relationship. Lansdale observed that “the most endearing quality to the Filipino was that the American trusted him… when trust is bestowed, wisely, the result is the strongest bond.” Like Lansdale, Wurster created buy-in from the important players in the Philippines from the outset. He was able to proceed because he understood what Philippine politicians valued the most—that the AFP would be in the lead. Wurster forged relationships with top military and civilian officials in Manila despite an initially contentious dynamic that Secretary Reyes adopted with Wurster in front of the media.
These relationships and the networks both Lansdale and Wurster built, enabled both officers to articulate the value of counterinsurgency and building partner capacity to their allies in the Philippines and leaders in Washington. Compared to traditional warfare, progress in irregular warfare is comparatively difficult to measure. Gaining reliable intelligence on insurgents and building the credibility of partner forces takes considerable time and effort. Therefore, leaders in irregular warfare must work to build trust and influence among stakeholders both in the partner nation and their own government so that they can articulate the value of protracted efforts.
Trait 3: Strategic Listening, Empathy, and Respect
Max Boot, one of Landsdale’s biographers, described his unique style of patience and attentiveness as “strategic listening,” whereby he would absorb what others had to say before offering his own thoughts. Lansdale’s ability to listen and form meaningful connections with others was a rare gift, noted during his earlier work with the OSS. This skill was exceptionally useful during Lansdale’s tours in Manila, where informal coffee klatsches at his home evolved into caffeine-fueled incubators for fresh counterinsurgency ideas. Lansdale’s tolerant, unassuming sensibility made it easy for him to bring disparate players into a conversation, be they Philippine military officials or power brokers in Washington. It was common for Lansdale to listen intently, resist the urge to fill natural lulls in the conversation, then summarize the speaker’s points and offer his own interpretation on the matter. In this way, Lansdale ensured that Magsaysay and other Philippine officers listening fully owned the decisions made during the conversations. Lansdale railed against the narrow-mindedness and “seeming pragmatism” of Americans who attempted to make short-term gains without realizing the long-term consequences. In the same sense, Wurster’s attentiveness to AFP leadership made him sensitive to the fact that placing Americans in the lead during operations would be detrimental to the credibility and capability of the AFP. Seeing the situation from the AFP’s perspective, Wurster knew that Filipino military leaders and soldiers had to own their fight if they were to achieve lasting progress against the insurgency.
While Lansdale’s upbringing forged his particular listening abilities, Wurster’s emerged from key flying experiences. Wurster’s background in piloting rescue helicopters in remote locations instilled a great respect for the expertise of those closest to a given problem. In Wurster’s view, the Air Force culture of decentralized execution imprinted on Airmen a high degree of trust in the disparate units and forces that make up airpower. This trust and respect for others’ expertise are reflected in the leadership style of a commander who listens to an array of voices. This attribute was on display when, as the commander of the JTF, Wurster listened to his staff and the Army Special Forces officers such as then-Col David Fridovich who had practical experience in building partner capacity. Wurster’s non-parochial style of leadership enabled a wide array of voices to be heard and ideas to be discussed. For example, anyone on the JTF staff, from military lawyers to psychological operations officers, was free to offer ideas on how to solve the task force’s operational dilemmas. These personnel felt comfortable raising suggestions because they knew the command climate allowed their ideas to be entertained on their own merits. Lansdale’s coffee klatsches and Wurster’s informal band of innovative staff officers enabled the most creative ideas to percolate to the top.
Both Lansdale and Wurster prided themselves on their ability to view the situation from the perspective of the local population. In Lansdale’s case, his tours of Huk-controlled Luzon and the dialogue those visits generated fostered an empathy that informed his policy suggestions to Magsaysay. Similarly, Wurster met with college students in Mindanao to develop a sense of what was important to them and how they thought about the problems in the southern Philippines. An understanding of the local population’s priorities gave Wurster confidence that his approach would work. Civic actions would improve lives and bolster the credibility of the government, while a small footprint of disciplined, respectful US troops would not trigger negative emotional responses rooted in local political sensitivities. Wurster would later describe his approach this way, “The bottom line is whether, in the end, our forces contribute to improvements that make lives better. I tell my people that we’ve got to figure out how to not lose while we are creating the opportunity to win.” For Wurster, creating the opportunity to win meant maintaining high standards of discipline and respect within the ranks of his command.
Trait 4: Willingness to Question Assumptions and Reevaluate Approaches
Lansdale and Wurster continually questioned assumptions both in their personal careers and in the efforts they led. Both officers had surprisingly non-linear career trajectories—Lansdale entered into intelligence and military work in his mid-thirties after Pearl Harbor, and Wurster even briefly separated from active duty to teach high school before being inspired to rejoin the Air Force after the failed hostage rescue attempt in Iran. Their non-standard career paths demonstrate that both men maintained identities separate from their military service. This dynamic informed their abilities to employ out-of-the-box thinking when confronted with challenges later in their careers. Both had little use for existing orders of unspoken hierarchy, especially when that hierarchy impeded mission accomplishment. They also both valued open-mindedness and encouraged the participation of members of their teams regardless of an individual’s specialty.
The fact that Lansdale was not a career military officer and had both corporate and intelligence experience to draw from meant that he was able to identify and propose indirect and innovative solutions to the Huk Insurrection. A military officer of a more conventional background may have witnessed the ineffective and brutal tactics used by the Philippine Constabulary and doubled down by simply employing more combat power against the insurgents—a predictable military response to poor battlefield performance. In the same sense, Wurster’s identity as an Airman operating in a joint environment meant that he was eager to entertain unconventional approaches to problem-solving when confronted with the dual challenges of capacity building and counterinsurgency.
Trait 5: Bias for Understanding
Instead of a predisposition for action, both Lansdale and Wurster displayed a bias for understanding. Before they pursued action against the adversary, each man sought to understand the environment and the people involved. While understanding the enemy is important in any form of warfare, it is complicated in irregular warfare by the “identification problem”—where insurgents cannot be reduced to a single identity and the population is often reluctant to identify those in the insurgent ranks. Where Lansdale used his excursions into Central Luzon with Magsaysay to build his knowledge of the Huks, Wurster relied on proxies under his command, such as Special Forces soldiers conducting assessments of local villages and collecting intelligence during civic actions delivering medical and dental care. The information resulting from both Lansdale and Wurster’s efforts shaped how they approached their respective missions.
Lansdale privately acknowledged that Huks were largely comprised of poor resistance fighters with socio-economic grievances. When reporting back to Washington, though, he emphasized their communist ties so as to hold the attention of political leaders. His description of the Huks generally lacked nuance but ultimately succeeded in ensuring that Magsaysay received the required resources and political support from Washington. Lansdale’s use of hyperbole and black-and-white characterization of the enemy for decision-makers in Washington was unquestionably a cognitive blind spot.
Wurster, conversely, maintained a clear-eyed perception of ASG throughout JTF-510’s operations. He accurately saw ASG as a band of criminals who had been reduced to kidnapping after they fell out of favor with global Islamic extremist groups in the late 1990s. What changed the equation, in Wurster’s understanding, was that ASG posed a direct threat to US interests in the Sulu archipelago. Furthermore, his review of the assessments done by his Special Forces soldiers informed his selection of a COIN model that would bring structure to an ill-defined problem. Wurster remained steadfast in his understanding of the adversary, so much so that after the recovery of the hostages and the raid against Abu Sabaya, he resisted efforts by the Philippine government and US Pacific Command to expand the American mission to a direct combat role on the neighboring island of Jolo. Wurster carefully distinguished between ASG and other violent Islamist groups in the region and determined a combat role on Jolo would mark an unnecessary shift in the approach to COIN in the Philippines.
It is particularly significant that Wurster acted as a moderating force in 2002 when the US political climate was more hospitable to large-scale military commitments. Where Lansdale’s Cold War-era faith in what the full range of US national power could achieve only increased as his time in the Philippines wore on, Wurster demonstrated an uncommon restraint when confronted with an expanding mission that had no immediate connection to broader American interests.
Risks Inherent to the Irregular
Warfare Mindset
The comparison of Lansdale and Wurster’s stories revealed another key area of divergence—the way in which both men managed (or failed to manage, in Lansdale’s case) the inherent risks and pitfalls of conducting irregular warfare. Irregular warfare practitioners frequently operate at the seams between peace and war. In places where SOF may not have the same amount of oversight as conventional forces, there exists an ever-present risk of overstepping moral and ethical boundaries. When undisciplined forces are allowed to operate with too much latitude, lapses in judgment have the potential to undermine the trust between Americans and their partner forces—or even compromise hard-won access and placement. Further still, actions by SOF that are inconsistent with political objectives and strategic messaging might spark unwanted escalation between competing powers.
Occasionally, innovative ideas accelerate ahead of policy objectives and can take on minds all their own. Disaggregated units with leaders who enjoy wide latitude and authorities must always be cognizant of the power they wield and the unintended consequences that may incur in the strategic environment. Lansdale in particular was susceptible to this pitfall. Even though he initially touted the impact that economic programs, military reforms, and non-kinetic operations would have in defeating the Huks, by the end of his second tour in the Philippines he and his team were employing ruthless psychological operations with questionable military necessity and openly lobbying his superiors for the transfer of napalm weapons to the Philippine Army. In dealing with a brutal war, irregular warfare practitioners can become brutal themselves.
Wurster effectively insulated his command from the risks inherent in irregular warfare. Though his units were disaggregated and operated with wide latitude, Wurster’s emphasis on discipline and honoring political sensitivities prevented American misbehavior or brutality that would have undoubtedly been on full display in the Philippine press. In this way, high standards of discipline, as a way to set conditions for achieving objectives, ensured JTF-510 did not lose the hard-won access and placement achieved through diplomatic efforts. One of the most important lessons from JTF-510 is that discipline can mitigate the risks and pitfalls associated with irregular warfare.
Conclusion
When assessed side-by-side, what is perhaps most remarkable about the two officers is that they operated during a nadir of expertise in irregular warfare within the US military. In Lansdale’s case, there was little institutional competency in irregular warfare following the conventional victories of World War II. In Wurster’s era, only small pockets of established memory remained from the lessons learned in Vietnam, and the Army’s counterinsurgency field manual would not be published until 2006 in response to Iraq and Afghanistan. That left both leaders to rely heavily on their own judgment, curiosity, and intellect as they listened to teams of experts and built the understanding needed for effective action. SOF have an imperative to break what the Irregular Warfare Annex labels the boom and bust cycle of institutional knowledge by seeking the best practices found in the community’s history. In the Philippines, both Lansdale and Wurster exhibited the attributes of communicating their vision, building relationships, listening, questioning assumptions, and seeking to understand before taking action.
Importantly, both Lansdale and Wurster led efforts on the periphery of larger American political and military campaigns. Landsdale operated against the backdrop of the Cold War, and Wurster commanded JTF-510 while the main efforts of the Global War on Terror occurred in the Middle East and Central Asia. In the present era of renewed great power competition, SOF will again be expected to operate on the edge—where communication, relationships, and discipline can enable leaders to harness the truly creative essence of special operators while avoiding potential hazards.
By seeking first to understand the enemy and the environment, Lansdale and Wurster successfully navigated an array of political, cultural, and economic factors. Their approaches to complex problems reveal common traits that further the discourse on institutionalizing the irregular warfare mindset for future generations of special operators.

About the author: Lt Col Joe Tomczak is a special operations pilot serving at the Pentagon. His career has included multiple deployments and more than 320 combat missions in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria. In 2019, he commanded the 4th ESOS during the final AC-130U gunship deployment of the war in Afghanistan. He is a term member of the Council on Foreign Relations.