As Australia’s naval focus moves north, so must missile reloading facilities

/in

The Royal Australian Navy needs missile reloading facilities in the north of the country, most obviously at Darwin and Cairns. The southern ports where Australian warships now take on munitions are too far from where the fleet is most likely to fight, though their reloading capabilities must also be retained.

The rising threat from China is shifting the geopolitical focus northwards, to chokepoints between archipelagic islands and to flashpoints in the Western Pacific. Australia must ensure its naval support infrastructure responds.

The lack of northern reloading facilities diminishes the navy’s combat capability by throttling its operational tempo.

Warships in action can quickly empty their magazines of air-defence or strike missiles. They might take three days to sail from an operations area north of Australia to Darwin, if they could replenish there; to reach HMAS Stirling, near Perth, they might need seven days. Then just as much time is spent in returning to the area of operations.

Similar calculations apply for operating in the Southwest Pacific. For that theatre, Cairns would be a far closer location for reloading than Eden, the New South Wales port where the process is currently done for ships using Fleet Base East in Sydney.

Intense, high-tempo operations in the north are just not possible when tied to the more southerly facilities.

Darwin and Cairns are prime candidates for northern missile reloading facilities because each has a deep port and is already equipped with substantial defence infrastructure. To the extent that they must already be protected against air and missile attack, there would be no further burden in protecting new facilities.

Both cities also play key roles in Australia’s strategic partnerships, particularly with the United States, which regularly conducts joint operations and training in the region. So building missile reloading facilities at these locations would enhance interoperability with allied forces, particularly under the AUKUS framework.

Indeed, it is quite likely that the US Navy would want to use northern Australian missile reloading facilities in the event of war, if Australia had any.

Australia should also keep its southern installations, however, because the ships are mainly based in the south. In war, the southern facilities would offer redundancy in case of damage or destruction of the better-placed northern ones.

The specific infrastructure needed for reloading at Darwin and Cairns would mainly be the specialised storage buildings that are needed for missiles. For security, those buildings would be at nearby defence base, not alongside wharves.

Sending munitions north by truck or train when they’re needed is not a suitable alternative. The process could impose delays, and roads and rail lines can be vulnerable.

Developing missile loading installations in the north would significantly improve Australia’s deterrence posture and enhance operational flexibility.

The Australian government must take immediate action to address this pressing need. It should look at whether a quick enhancement of current facilities can provide a stop-gap solution.

Then Defence must secure funding to fast-track construction of permanent facilities in the north. Because of the value to the US Navy of missile reloading in northern Australia, the government must involve it in the effort. For example, the US Navy may have special requirements.

This collaboration will not only enhance our operational capabilities but also strengthen our alliance.

Game-planning national security and the PNG NRL team

/in

Papua New Guinea’s entrance into the National Rugby League (NRL) is officially confirmed. Already, sports writers are excitedly pulling out their whiteboards to draw up potential rosters for the team’s inaugural season in 2028. But before the team kicks off, a clear national security gameplan is needed to support it.

Australian national security requires a close relationship with a stable PNG. Increasing strategic competition in the Indo-Pacific is also pushing Australia to quickly secure its role in the Pacific.

The Port Moresby-based team is the result of two years of political collaboration. It aims to refresh and deepen the strong foundation of the PNG-Australia relationship while also delivering domestic opportunities.

The team aspires to be a national symbol for PNG and a unifying force in a large, diverse and sometimes divided nation. It also brings significant economic and tourism opportunities.

Despite shared history, most Australians know little of PNG. A PNG team in the NRL may remedy this, building familiarity as it plays regularly on Australian screens. As highlighted by PNG Prime Minister James Marape, the team will foster the crucial people-to-people connection needed for our bilateral relationship.

Creating the team is a rare foreign policy opportunity for public and political diplomacy, as well as improved national stability, justifying its admittedly hefty $600 million, 10-year cost to the Australian government.

The squad is also already scoring national security points. Australia has negotiated an agreement under which PNG will not sign new security agreements with China. This ensures that Australia won’t be blindsided, as it was by the Solomon Islands-China security agreement in 2022.

But for this policy to succeed, Australia needs to carefully manage security risks. The team is a unique initiative and will face high levels of media scrutiny, with stories on team performance or player misconduct potentially loaded with political criticism and geopolitical commentary.

Chinese interference presents the highest-profile risk. The team will be an important part of Australia’s bilateral engagement with PNG and will block a China-PNG security relationship. China cannot directly replicate this type of sports diplomacy, but capital, industry and regional banking presence offer it ways to influence or interfere.

In the team’s first 10 years, the Australian government will strongly influence ownership and sponsorship of the squad. This will inhibit interference and safeguard two core objectives: the team being clearly Papua New Guinean, and it being recognised as a product of the PNG-Australia partnership. Both require protecting the team from other international influences.

But not all risks are geopolitical. Serious criminal risks may emerge, considering the team’s high profile and high value, its athletes being young and highly paid, and its connections to the PNG and Australian economies.

Sport Integrity Australia and Australian law enforcement will need to closely collaborate with the PNG government to protect the team from organised crime. According to the Global Organized Crime Index, PNG suffers from pervasive corruption and a reasonably complex organised crime ecosystem.

Money laundering, fraud and bribery are prevalent and commonly facilitated by Australian professionals. Law enforcement will need to look both ways to keep Australian and PNG criminal entities away from the team and make sure it stays in the public’s good books.

Managing geopolitical and criminal risks will require close attention to team ownership, finances, sponsorship and the conduct of the team’s executive leadership.

Comprehensive vetting and protections are needed from the start and will still be needed beyond the team’s first decade. It is unclear what measures will be in place after this period. If Australia has no direct oversight or input, it must establish regulatory bodies. Viable options include a PNG mechanism, similar to Australia’s Foreign Investment Review Board, capable of blocking foreign investment where it is contrary to the national interest, or an investment review mechanism co-managed by the PNG government, the NRL and the team itself.

Physical security concerns also loom. Major sporting events can trigger public unrest or result in personal injury to the public or the players. Port Moresby’s January 2024 riots, resulting in an estimated 1 billion kina ($400 million) of damage, highlight the need for precautions. Australian-PNG law enforcement collaboration will be crucial to protecting against violence, with incidents potentially undermining public safety, team legitimacy and social licence, and business operations. Security is also key to boosting tourism and giving Australians confidence to travel to games in Port Moresby.

Effectively managing any of these risks will depend on clear communication from both governments and the NRL. Pressures may mount in coming years, contesting the logic behind creating this team, with cynics or hostile actors attempting to spin issues into major challenges. Preparation and clarity of messaging will be key, as will transparency on the team’s foreign policy and national security role.

This initiative’s success relies on a team effort now and going forward.

Keeping Chinese embassies out: Taiwanese president’s tour of the Pacific

/in

Taiwanese President Lai Ching-te’s visit last week to three independent Pacific island states was more important than it looked. The visited countries have diplomatic relations with Taipei instead of Beijing, and it’s deeply in the interest of Taiwan and its friends to keep it that way, in part by such efforts as presidential visits.

Establishment of Chinese embassies in the three countries—The Marshall Islands, Palau and Tuvalu—would follow any diplomatic switch. Those embassies would become official centres of power in counties that, being small, are highly vulnerable to influence. Also, Taiwan’s little allies amplify Taiwan’s voice in international forums from which China keeps it excluded.

One of the most important levers in Taiwan’s diplomatic toolkit is the presidential visit. Trips to the United States get most attention, and Lai did visit Hawaii and Guam, but the most valuable tool is visits to the few countries that recognise Taiwan diplomatically. These countries experience constant pressure from China to switch recognition. China can offer these countries tens of millions of dollars in foreign aid; Taiwan’s financial and political constraints limit it from making the same offers.

The three Pacific Island countries stick with Taiwan due to shared political and cultural values. Many states stuck with recognition of the government in Taiwan (formally, the Republic of China) out of opposition to the communist political system of the People’s Republic of China. In the Pacific, these ties are even stronger due to their shared Austronesian descent with Taiwanese indigenous people. These intangible values are often unseen in day-to-day governance. Taiwan needs to actively promote those values through people-to-people ties up to and especially at the presidential level.

Maintaining relations with Taiwan is also important for good governance and freedom in the Pacific island countries that recognise it. Recognising Taiwan prevents an official Chinese presence from moving in. While China can and does act through unofficial envoys, such as business leaders and gangsters, their ability to influence cannot be compared with the fortresses of official influence that China has erected across the Pacific. Upon establishing a diplomatic presence, China floods a host country with diplomats and other officials to further its interests.

Embassies are sources of not only licit but also illegal and malign Chinese influence. In a letter to domestic political leaders, a former president of the Federated States of Micronesia, David Panuelo, highlighted that China’s coercive political activity ran through the embassy. Examples included harassing calls from the ambassador, bribing of legislators and other broad efforts to undermine political institutions.

Moreover, the malign activity of Chinese embassies spreads beyond their host countries. Panuelo notes being followed by men stationed in the China’s embassy in Fiji while he was in Suva. In another instance, the Chinese embassy in Fiji published a video essay to discredit a report on China’s policing and organised crime activity in the country.

Beyond blocking the spread of China’s malign influence, Taiwan’s Pacific allies also give it a voice on the international stage, highlighting its achievements and advocating its presence in international organisations. In remarks at the 2024 UN General Assembly, Palau and the Marshall Islands both voiced support for Taiwan’s participation in the UN. At the COP28 climate talks last year, Palau and Paraguay, which also recognises Taiwan, spruiked Taiwan’s climate accomplishments and inclusion. Countries that recognise Taiwan also vocally support its accession to the World Health Organization, Interpol and other international institutions. This advocacy is particularly important in the Pacific Islands Forum where China has sought to revoke Taiwan’s dialogue partner status—Palau will host the forum leaders meeting in 2026.

Just look at the lights: Assad’s territory was growing poorer as opposition’s economy advanced

/in

Explanation is in illumination. To understand why the regime of Bashar al-Assad fell so suddenly in Syria in the past week, just note how night-time lights faded in cities it controlled.

Lighting is an indicator of prosperity, and in the years before the collapse it progressively dimmed in the regime’s cities and brightened in those controlled by the opposition. The opposition governed better, so its people were better off and could afford to turn on the lights.

A population shift is further evidence of the economic imbalance that helps explain the opposition’s success, alongside the important factor of loss of foreign air support.

After five years of relative stagnation, the battle lines in Syria saw seismic shifts, upending the entire history of the revolution and war. Within two weeks of a surprise offensive, Damascus had fallen, Bashar al-Assad had fled, and Russian bases along the country’s Mediterranean coast were hurriedly withdrawing. Over 20,000 days of continuous Assad totalitarian rule came crashing down in barely more than 10.

 

The situation across northern Syria on 6 December. Damascus fell to the opposition on the morning of 8 December.

 

The groups mounting this offensive would hardly have considered this level of success. The offensive was initially launched to push back regime lines from civilian areas, where a concerted and systematic campaign of attacks on civilians by artillery and drones had created an unbearable burden of violence on many of the frontline communities. Instead, the regime retreated and didn’t stop. The 12 million Syrians who had been displaced from their homes by violence and fighting are now welcome to return home.

The crucial question is why and how did the regime’s lines collapse so quickly? Why was its command and control so poor? Why did it cede so much territory, captured during more than a decade and at the cost of tens of thousands of soldiers’ lives, to opposition forces within days without a fight?

 

Ratios of captured and destroyed military vehicles and equipment, comparing Russia in the Ukraine War and the Syrian Army in Syria in the first week of the opposition’s offensive.

 

 

One crucial element is a distinct lack of support by foreign backers—Russia, Iran and Hezbollah—each of which was embroiled in its own fight and unable to offer the high level of support that proved critical to the regime over the previous 10 years. Another element has been establishment of good governance by the Syrian Salvation Government and the Islamist Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), which maintains firm control over much of this area. Here, establishment of a responsive, civilian-led technocratic government has allowed for material improvements in the lives of civilians living in opposition-controlled areas. This is especially prominent following broad ceasefires that froze the front lines in Syria since 2020 and gave space for civilian institutions to re-emerge and grow despite regular attacks by regime forces.

That allowed the military factions of the opposition to rapidly professionalise, consolidate command structures and make major strides in developing new tactics and weapons (the role of drones and night-vision in the first week of this offensive was crucial in preventing Assad’s forces from regrouping and mounting counterattacks).

Those two factors explain why the regime lacked the overwhelming firepower it was once able to bring to the battlefield with allies’ help; they also explain how the opposition could seize the initiative and continue to push beyond their initial goals. However, they don’t address one critical issue that has proven decisive in battles since the offensive began: Why was the regime so unwilling to fight?

 

A schematic showing the key factors for the regime’s lack of combat effectiveness over the past 10 days

 

Detailed analysis of satellite imagery captured over the past decade begins to answer this question. Areas under regime control, despite the massive burden on loyalist communities to re-establish government control over much of Syria, have languished economically over the past six years. Demographic effects of more than a decade of war and the disproportionate degree of manpower coming from traditionally loyalist and Alawite communities have sucked opportunity from those areas. Widespread economic mismanagement and lingering effects of aggressive sanctions have forced the economy in regime areas to contract.

In short, for loyalist communities around Syria, 14 years of deep sacrifice and burden has only resulted in their communities going backwards. As HTS and allied militias began to shatter the thin veil of stability and security built up over the previous five years when the battle lines had been largely frozen, loyalist communities decided that the sacrifice was no longer worthwhile—especially in maintaining firm control over the large, Sunni-majority regions of Syria. The implicit social contract in which loyalist sacrifices were rewarded with patronage and preferential development had languished and then shattered under the pressure of an armed assault.

 

 

Urban illumination is widely considered to be a proxy for economic activity. Since 2018, the level of night-time illumination in major regime-controlled cities across Syria has roughly halved whereas key towns in opposition-controlled territory have increased their night-time lights by a factor of 10. This demonstrates that, despite an unending campaign of aerial bombing and economic pressure, opposition-controlled territories, since around 2018, were able to begin to reverse the years of acute destruction and see meaningful reconstruction and revitalisation.

Meanwhile, regime-controlled communities followed a different path. Reconstruction was essentially non-existent, neighbourhoods that revolted were demolished rather than rebuilt, and even loyalist communities saw drastic reductions in livelihoods and economic opportunities.

Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) territory grew at a similar rate to opposition areas following the defeat of ISIS before stagnating under Turkish airstrikes, which systematically targeted power infrastructure.

 

The observed trend in night-time light intensity between 2020 and 2024, with blue showing increases and red showing decreases.

 

The contrast is also clear in population estimates. The percentage of Syrians in Syria living in opposition-governed territory grew between 2020 and 2023, according to analysis by the Jusoor Center for Studies, from 24 percent to 26 percent, despite systematic bombardment and violence by the Assad regime.

Likewise, the effects of economic mismanagement and sanctions in government-controlled Syrian territory are clear in shortages of basic goods over the past four years, sweeping cutting of government subsidies and dramatic devaluation of the Syrian pound. For example, since 2020 there have been acute fuel shortages across government-held territory, which have worsened in recent months. Over that same period, the value of the Syrian pound has fallen from 2000 per US dollar to less than 15,000 per US dollar. The price of bread and other staple goods has drastically risen. Meanwhile, key figures within the regime were living lavishly: the Washington Post writes that, in recent years, they ran the country as their own ‘personal piggy bank’.

The battlefield effects of those dynamics were clear as soon as this shock offensive was launched. Frontline units melted away; for example, the fortified but undermanned 46th Regiment headquarters fell to opposition fighters in the first day of the offensive. As early as 28 November, there were widespread reports of soldiers from the loyalist coastal communities deserting the Aleppo, Idlib and Hama front lines to go home.

As the opposition offensive swept through Aleppo and kept pushing south, fighters came up against the Hama ‘minority-wall’. This is a collection of Christian and Alawite villages in Hama and Homs that had previously been mobilised by the Syrian Army to effectively defend the front lines in that area from opposition assaults. While some of those villages—with help from Syrian Army reinforcements—fiercely defended particular localities to the north of Hama, most of the villages were captured without fighting and often with local agreements. Such agreements saw the non-violent capture of both the Ismaili city of Salamiyah and the Christian town of Muhrahda on the outskirts of Hama by the opposition. That experience contrasts sharply with previous attempts at opposition outreach in those areas. It demonstrates both the increased local confidence in opposition governance and the languishing conditions in regime territory—not to mention the changing reality of the war. This has now occurred even in Assad’s home town.

In the days following the fall of Assad’s government, there was an outpouring of grievances and complaints about the final years of his rule, even from outright regime cheerleaders, who now felt comfortable discussing deep problems of Assad’s rule. Bashar al-Assad’s sister-in-law posted a picture of the revolutionary Syrian flag on Instagram.

While the rest of the world saw Syria as a frozen conflict, Assad and his regime’s poor governance were hollowing out state capacity and institutions and building resentment, and the lives of its people were only getting materially worse. Under the threat of a competent and concerted opposition offensive and without the support of foreign militaries to help the regime fight back more easily, Syrians pushed through that shell and emerged under a revolutionary flag.

Instability in Pacific politics? Yes, but it’s stable instability

/in

Political instability in the Pacific isn’t significantly increasing. It just feels like it—with the recent dissolution of parliament in Vanuatu and motions of no confidence in Papua New Guinea, Tonga and Solomon Islands.

Although the past two years show a spike in leadership challenges, these are due to specific countries—Vanuatu in 2023 and PNG in 2024—and not widespread circumstances. A review of the political history of selected Pacific island countries since 2010 shows no distinct upward trend in the frequency of attempts to change government. Moreover, the reasons for the attempts have not changed significantly.

In other words, Pacific instability is more or less stable.

Pacific island governments are taking steps to try to reduce instability, but those measures are likely to take time to have much impact.

Since 2010, there have been at least 49 attempts to change or remove the prime minister in four Pacific island countries: Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Vanuatu and Tonga. Those countries aren’t the only ones in the region that have faced such challenges, but their high frequency of political turnover makes them most useful for analysis.

 

Note: Leadership challenges can result in various outcomes, including motions of no confidence that lead to votes of confidence, leadership resignation, motion withdrawals and dissolution of parliament through other means.

 

While no-confidence motions submitted by opposition members are most common, in each of these countries leadership challenges or changes can take place in other ways. Resignations can pre-empt votes for removal—as just happened in Tonga—and in Tonga and Vanuatu the king or president, respectively, can decide to dissolve the legislative assembly under the certain conditions.

More often than not, such attempts fail to achieve a change of leadership: only 11 attempts successfully toppled the prime minister or triggered a dissolution that ultimately resulted in a new leader in the 14 years for which we assembled data. Regardless, the motion itself often triggers a shake-up in ministerial roles to guarantee numbers and shore up coalitions. While that has less impact than a change in leadership, it can still impair the government’s effectiveness.

For example, in Vanuatu, which had the highest recorded number of leadership challenges, many motions were withdrawn once the opposition realised it didn’t have the numbers. But the motions continued to occupy sitting time or triggered a distracting extraordinary session of parliament.

In PNG, the government has previously adjourned parliament to avoid a no-confidence vote. In 2021, the hiatus lasted four months, meaning the government didn’t meet as often as it could have during the Covid-19 pandemic. In 2016 then prime minister Peter O’Neill adjourned parliament to avoid such a vote amid student protests against government corruption.

Even when things appear calm, leaders spend a lot of time and effort in keeping parliamentarians happy. Between 2016 and 2020, then Vanuatu prime minister Charlot Salwai survived a total of six no-confidence motions to become the first Vanuatu prime minister to last a full four-year term in more than 20 years. He was eventually charged with perjury at the end of his term for misinforming the public and the courts about his decision to appoint additional parliamentary secretaries to maintain stability. In 2021 Salwai received a suspended jail sentence of more than two years, which forced him out of his seat. Later that year, he received a presidential pardon, allowing him to again stand for public office.

In Solomon Islands, attempts to remove the prime minister have been less frequent than in some other Pacific nations, but no-confidence motions against provincial premiers occur more often. They aren’t limited to Malaita, where an ongoing battle over the diplomatic recognition of Taiwan versus Beijing has contributed to recent political instability, but also occur in other provinces.

It’s not unusual for foreign partnerships to feature in leadership challenges, but, in this dataset, partnerships with China, Taiwan, the US or Australia were mentioned only occasionally. Currently, it’s more common for geopolitics to be part of the conversation in Vanuatu and Solomon Islands.

In Vanuatu last year, those attempting to remove then prime minister Ishmael Kalsakau questioned whether deeper security engagements with the West that the government was considering would undermine Vanuatu’s proud non-aligned position.

In 2011, Solomon Islands prime minister Danny Philip resigned after his coalition disbanded, citing concerns over corrupt use of Taiwanese discretionary funding. Deepening relationships with China were a factor in political instability and riots in Honiara in 2006 and 2021, and Chinese businesses were targeted in the 2006 Nuku’alofa riots.

Historically, undesired closeness to foreign powers has been cited on occasion and has probably been a smaller or non-public factor in other attempts at changes of government. Most challenges come down to domestic power jostles and concerns over government mismanagement and corruption.

Many Pacific countries have sought to introduce legislation to reduce political instability within their systems, but the effect of such changes varies or is still emerging.

In 2010, Tonga introduced time constraints on votes of no confidence. Such motions may not be within 18 months after or six months before an election, nor 12 months after the last such motion. And yet, it has still seen at least one such motion per term.

In PNG, in addition to grace periods of 18 months after an election and 12 months before one, no-confidence motions require the approval of the Private Business Committee of parliament, which decides whether a motion should proceed to a parliamentary vote. However, motions rebuffed by the committee are repeatedly resubmitted, as in 2015 and 2016, when four motions against Peter O’Neill were moved before the final one failed. The PNG government had also attempted to extend the grace period to 30 months, as well as to triple the notice period for motions to 21 days in 2012 and 2013, but the Supreme Court overruled those constitutional amendments in 2015.

Vanuatu has also pursued greater political stability. It held its first referendum since independence with the aim of reducing political instability by forcing independents to affiliate with a party and ruling that members would have their seat vacated if they were expelled from their party. Unfortunately, the resulting laws were not gazetted by the government before the dissolution occurred. Even if they had been, it would have taken time for such changes to have any effect.

In looking at all this, Australia shouldn’t be one to judge. Since 2010, Australian prime ministers have faced eight leadership challenges, four of which were successful. Those challenges also led to process changes at the party level, which at the very least have reduced challenges to the prime minister in recent years. In time, we may see the Pacific’s changes having a similar effect.

China edges closer to intervention in Myanmar

/in

Military intervention by China in Myanmar’s civil war is more likely than generally thought. While attention is fixed on Beijing’s expansionist activities in the South China Sea and aggressive intentions towards Taiwan, China’s more immediately consequential move in Southeast Asia could come via an overland vector.

Speculation that China may step up its involvement in Myanmar’s civil war has been brewing for some time. However, discussion has been mostly limited to Myanmar watchers, receiving little mainstream attention in comparison with Beijing’s well-publicised behaviour in the South China Sea.

According to media reporting, China recently proposed establishing a ‘joint security company’ with Myanmar. While there is no agreement on what this will consist of and how it will be established, the presence of armed Chinese personnel operating within Myanmar’s territory would shorten the odds on Beijing’s direct intervention in the civil war, with a high risk of mission creep.

Beijing has various motivations to step up its security role in Myanmar. Protecting China’s investments under the China-Myanmar Economic Corridor is one obvious interest. The apparent trigger for China’s proposal was the bombing of its Mandalay consulate on 18 October. The threat to Chinese assets and personnel has intensified over the past year as Naypyidaw’s military capacity has declined, to the point that its ability to maintain basic security is no longer assured.

Elsewhere, Beijing has relied on private military companies to maintain security for Belt and Road projects. However, Myanmar’s civil war has escalated to the point of threatening the junta’s hold on power. China’s interests in Myanmar are deep and complex, given the porosity of a long border and Beijing’s record of support for both regime and non-regime forces. Beijing still has many levers to influence the warring parties in Myanmar short of direct military intervention. But its overriding interest now is to prevent a rebel takeover that could imperil its investments across the country. Beijing has invested heavily because Myanmar offers access to the Indian Ocean across the shortest distance from China’s borders, including for energy supplies. Pakistan’s largely inactive Gwadar port is not a serious alternative.

Much hinges on such details of the proposed joint entity as command arrangements, its rules of engagement and whether it includes personnel from the Chinese armed forces or paramilitary. Would it operate only in the border region, or wherever Chinese assets are located? Would its remit be tied to the static protection of Chinese-owned assets, or allow Chinese forces to undertake hot pursuit against anti-regime forces? Notwithstanding these uncertainties, the creation of a joint security company with the junta would basically recast Beijing in the role of Naypyidaw’s security patron.

Beijing is unlikely to lightly contemplate direct intervention in Myanmar’s civil war and could ultimately stop short of that. Engaging in military operations against anti-regime insurgents would attract international criticism. At some level, China must be aware of the risk that an open-ended security commitment to a weakened regime could draw it into a quagmire.

While border security, asset protection and preventing regime collapse are the obvious ‘defensive’ motivations for China to intervene in Myanmar, potentially there is a more offensive driver in play: practice and precedent for the People’s Liberation Army.

For many years, the conventional wisdom has been that China is reluctant to use armed force beyond its borders. The PLA has not engaged in major combat operations since the 1979 cross-border conflict with Vietnam, which resulted in tactical defeat. Even the all-out PLA combat commitment during the Korean War was officially described as a volunteer force. But history may be a poor guide to the future in this respect.

The PLA has moved on by leaps and bounds, testing its modernised war-fighting capabilities in large and increasingly complex exercises, including within Taiwan’s environs. Yet there is still no substitute for combat experience, of which the PLA has so little, to test basic morale and fighting effectiveness. China’s senior military leaders could view Myanmar as a potential crucible for learning, in the same way that Russia approached the Syrian civil war last decade. Special forces operations, joint operations and command and control would have some transferability to Taiwan scenarios. The fact that Russia and North Korea are jointly honing their combat skills in Ukraine, while the PLA remains untested, will not be lost on Xi Jinping, who heads the Central Military Commission.

Xi must also weigh the international consequences of intervention. The election of Donald Trump is favourable to Beijing in this respect, as he is likely to see Myanmar as falling squarely within China’s sphere of influence. India does not want an enhanced Chinese security presence in Myanmar, but it could do little to stop it, and Delhi is more concerned to preserve the current stability along its own disputed frontier with China. Further afield, Chinese intervention in Myanmar might even be welcomed if it tempers China’s aggressive ambitions across the Taiwan Strait.

Reactions in Southeast Asia would probably not pose a serious threat to relations with China, despite Myanmar being member of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. Some countries would be concerned if China moved to protect what it calls ‘overseas Chinese’ in Myanmar, given Southeast Asia’s sizeable ethnic-Chinese population. But, overall, ASEAN would be pragmatically disposed to accept a Chinese intervention in Myanmar provided it were characterised as limited and stabilising. After all, ASEAN’s efforts to improve the situation since full-scale civil war erupted in 2020 have proved ineffectual and sapped the organisation’s dwindling diplomatic credibility.

In some respects, Myanmar’s situation is reminiscent of South Vietnam in 1964–65, when the United States was drawn into a direct combat role in order to prop up a corrupt and unpopular military government, in danger of losing a domestic insurgency. The parallel is imperfect, but China could become militarily involved not because it wants to, but because it feels compelled to act. Intervention in a civil war is always high risk, even if the protagonist convinces itself that its goals are limited and achievable. History attests that the entrance is easier to locate than the exit.

Tech cooperation between Australia and South Korea will bolster regional stability

/in

Greater alignment between Australia and South Korea in critical technologies would produce significant strategic benefit to both countries and the Indo-Pacific. Overlapping and complex regional challenges, such as climate change, economic shocks and pandemics, underscore the need for international cooperation in critical technologies

Although these technologies have a range of beneficial social, economic and security outcomes, they are increasingly being deployed by regional adversaries for malign purposes, including espionage, cyberattacks and spreading disinformation. This is particularly alarming for many countries in the region amid intensified geostrategic competition.

The latest data from ASPI’s Critical Technology Tracker highlights challenges posed by technological advancements by emphasising the shift in technology leadership from the US to China over the past two decades. The tracker shows that China is now the leading country for high-impact research on critical technologies.

Enhanced collaboration between likeminded Indo-Pacific partners can counter China’s edge in technological research. ASPI’s new report recommends coordination and cooperation between Australia and South Korea in critical technologies, as the two regional powers have complementary technologies and are committed to upholding the US-led rules-based order.

In this report, we examine bilateral technological collaboration through the framework of four stages common to technological life cycles (innovation, research and development; building blocks for manufacturing; testing and application; standards and norms) and four corresponding critical technologies of joint strategic interest to both Australia and South Korea (biotechnologies, electric batteries, satellites and artificial intelligence).

Using this framework, we provide policy recommendations for Australian and South Korean government, research and industry stakeholders. We outline how they can build cooperation in the areas of biotechnology-related research and development, battery materials manufacturing, satellite launches and artificial intelligence (AI) standards-setting.

First, long-term exchanges between key R&D institutions will facilitate knowledge-sharing in the field of biotechnologies, a field relevant to both countries’ goals to become regional clinical trial hubs. We suggest that the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation and the Korea Research Institute of Bioscience and Biotechnology lead this initiative.

Second, due to Australia’s abundance of critical minerals and South Korea’s desire to elevate its capacity to manufacture electric batteries, battery material manufacturers from both countries should collaborate in the joint production of such battery materials as lithium hydroxide and precursor cathode active materials. Although the POSCO-Pilbara Minerals plant is an existing example of a joint factory operating South Korea, we highlight the strategic benefit of building future factories on Australian soil to take advantage of a secure supply of critical minerals.

Third, a streamlined government-to-government agreement will help South Korean companies to take advantage of Australia’s geography for joint satellite launches. This could emulate an agreement between Australia and the US for joint satellite launches. It would make it easier for both Australia and South Korea to collate satellite data for civilian and defence purposes.

Finally, Australian and South Korean stakeholders involved in international standards-setting bodies should align their approaches to ensure that the development and implementation of AI technologies is consistent with both countries’ respective interests. ISO/IEC JTC 1/SC 42, a joint subcommittee on AI standards shared by the International Organization for Standardization and the International Electrotechnical Commission, is one recommended mechanism for coordinating the approaches of key Australian and South Korean stakeholders in AI standards.

The current political situation in South Korea may sow doubt in the mind of regional counterparts about its domestic stability and suitability as a partner. However, the quick overturning of martial law showed the robustness of South Korea’s democratic institutions. There may be short-term challenges to bolstering bilateral technological initiatives as the domestic situation continues to evolve, but the long-term trajectory for technological cooperation remains optimistic.

Aside from the economic, innovation and technology pillar of the bilateral Comprehensive Strategic Partnership and the Memorandum of Understanding on Cyber and Critical Technology Cooperation, the two countries are also active in furthering multilateral dialogue relating to critical technologies. Particularly, each country is internationally engaged in for a including the 3rd Generational Partnership Project, International Electrotechnical Commission and Minerals Security Partnership.

Technological cooperation between Australia and South Korea has can be leveraged to address regional challenges. This report serves as a starting point for furthering this cooperation. To ensure that the Indo-Pacific remains safe, secure and stable in the coming decades, now is the time for industry, research and government stakeholders in Australia and South Korea to jointly adopt a much greater and meaningful strategic role in regional technological collaboration.

How Assad’s fall hurts Russia and Iran

/in

It’s access to Syrian territory that Russia and Iran will miss most after the fall of their friend Bashar al-Assad, the president ousted on Sunday by rebels whom both of those outside powers had fought against.

Russia may lose use of an air base in Syria and, most importantly, a naval base there, limiting its ability to project force in the Middle East and Africa. Iran meanwhile has presumably lost an important ally as Israel increases the pressure on Hezbollah and other Iran-linked forces across the Middle East.

These losses will constrain Russian and Iranian ambitions beyond Syria.

On Sunday, as rebels took control in Damascus, Russian news agencies cited a Kremlin source as saying a deal guaranteeing the ‘safety’ of the bases had been agreed. It’s unclear whether that means they have any future in Russian hands.

The naval base is at Tartus on the Syrian coast near Lebanon. It’s Russia’s only warm-weather port, inherited from the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union used the base from 1971 for force projection at the height of the Cold War—notably, during the nuclear weapons scare of the Yom Kippur War.

More recently, Tartus has been instrumental in Russia’s naval operations, used for intervention in the Syrian civil war, for force projection into Africa and for sanctions evasion. Russia easily resupplied the private military company Wagner Group (now called Africa Corps) through Tartus.

Still supported through the base, the mercenary organisation helps prop up juntas in Africa and siphon resources for the Kremlin. Without the naval base in Tartus, supporting mercenaries in Africa would become increasingly hard and expensive.

The diplomatic prestige of Russian ships operating in the Mediterranean also depends on use of Tartus.

Turkey has closed the Bosphorus to naval warships and seldom allows Russian military aircraft across its airspace. Russia’s major ports outside the Black Sea are Vladivostok on the Pacific and Kaliningrad on the Baltic. Putin reportedly has plans for a new naval base in Libya, so Russia may shift its focus to interference in that country.

In 2020, Yuri Borisov, Russia’s deputy prime minister said the Kremlin would invest $500 million in grain facilities at the port. Assad’s fall will now make it harder to Russia to export grain to African junta allies.

The Hmeimim air base, 50 km up the coast from Tartus, was another asset of force projection for Moscow. Hmeimim is a large airfield that can support operations by heavy military cargo planes, such as the IL-76.

Assad’s major counteroffensives began thanks in part to availability of air power at Hmeimim, from which  the Russian air force pounded Assad’s enemies with Su-35, Su-25 and Su-24 aircraft.

Helpfully for Russia, it had access to the air base free of charge.

Loss of the bases would at least temporarily end half a century of Russian military presence in the Middle East.

The fall of Assad is a blow to Iran’s attempts at promoting Shiite theocracy in Sunni-majority Syria. During the Iranian intervention, the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps sent Shiite militiamen from Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen and Lebanon to Syria to supplement Assad’s war-battered forces. The Revolutionary Guards encouraged them and their families to settle in Syria.

Also, militias affiliated with the Revolutionary Guards mustered near the Israeli border.

Loss of Assad also means loss of land supply to Hezbollah, Iran’s proxy in Lebanon. Iran could formerly send weapons, ammunition and other supplies across Iraq and then Syria by truck. That was already risky, having been at times noticed and bombed by Israeli intelligence. But it’s presumably impossible now that Syria is not controlled by Iran-friendly forces.

Hezbollah, already battered by escalated fighting with Israel from September to November, is thus weakened and, with it, so is Iran’s influence in Lebanon.

Hezbollah will now come under more pressure to disarm by the Lebanese army, which will have the backing of the United States, France, and the United Nations.

We must understand why youth are radicalised. It’s not just manipulation

/in

Youth radicalisation and its connection to political violence and terrorism is an urgent concern. Despite consistent warnings from intelligence and law enforcement agencies in Australia and globally, public discussion around this issue often falls short. We need to understand why it persists and how to disrupt it before it escalates.

Australian Security Intelligence Organisation said on 6 December that about 20 percent of its priority counterterrorism cases involved minors. Since 2017, ASIO and the AFP has investigated 35 young Australians for violent extremism, some as young as 12.

Young adults are also a risk factor, as illustrated this month by the apparently ideologically motivated killing of a healthcare CEO in the US. To address their radicalisation, policymakers must grapple with agency: radicalised people are not just vulnerable and manipulated; political violence can be their response to both real and perceived grievances.

A Five Eyes report issued this month highlights disturbing case studies of youth involvement in violent extremism across Australia, Britain, Canada, New Zealand and the United States. These case studies offer valuable insights but focus on social media. While digital environments are important, we risk overshadowing the deeper psychological, societal and cultural factors that underlie youth radicalisation.

We must determine what differentiates those merely exposed to extremist content and those who are radicalised by it. Online interactions may exacerbate radicalisation but are not the sole factor.

Multi-faceted vulnerabilities are part of the answer. For example, individuals who feel alienated, unsupported or marginalised may find a sense of belonging or purpose in extremist ideologies. Understanding complex factors, and their role in the cycle of radicalisation, is necessary to disrupt the cycle.

We must focus on understanding why certain individuals, particularly young people, are drawn to extremist ideologies in the first place. This includes understanding the uncomfortable issue of youth agency in radicalisation.

Agency is absent from the Five Eyes report and much of public discussion. We cannot view radicalised young people only as vulnerable victims. We must consider their conscious participation as an attempt to resolve real or perceived grievances. While agency is tricky to assess in the case of radicalised minors, it is particularly relevant in assessing cases of adult young persons, aged 18 to 25. This demographic is more likely to be politically aware and may be motivated to violent extremism due to a radical ideology or political grievance.

The 4 December killing of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson in New York highlights this issue. The lead suspect, a 26-year-old man, allegedly carried a three-page manifesto criticising corporate America and had engaged with violent extremist literature critiquing wealth inequality. While he was active online, he does not neatly fit the mould of a socially isolated or mentally unwell offender. Nor is it clear whether a specific online group radicalised him.

But the killer’s identity is not the most important issue. After the murder, many young people were quick to understand, even praise, the violence online and vilify the healthcare industry. The lack of universal condemnation of the killing is disturbing—but also reveals political dissatisfaction. Agency is critical to understanding this killing: it was likely motivated by personal and political grievances stemming from social and economic insecurity, either real or perceived, which unfortunately resonate with many young people—including Australians.

Addressing broader causes of youth radicalisation will require a shift in policy. Resolving vulnerabilities will take a whole-of-society strategy that goes beyond the traditional roles of law enforcement and intelligence agencies and engages other sectors, such as education, mental health services and community groups.

Early intervention is key to pre-empting radicalisation. This necessitates better understanding of vulnerabilities that fuel radicalisation, and creation of a supportive environment that offers young people help before they turn to violent ideologies.

Research into the psychological, social and environmental factors that make young people susceptible to extremism is crucial. This research must inform policies and interventions to support and guide at-risk youth. Early interventions, such as mental health support, programs to prevent social isolation and initiatives to foster stronger community connections, can protect against radicalisation. This approach requires a shift in focus from reactive law enforcement to proactive support.

Schools and families must be empowered to play a more proactive role in identifying and supporting at-risk youth. We must show schools and families how to recognise early signs of radicalisation and intervene. This will require identification of specific vulnerability factors and making strategies and support available before issues escalate.

The above solutions will address vulnerabilities. To address agency, the government must also better engage young people, understand their grievances and implement policy in response. Disenfranchised young people contribute to a range of social risk factors, including increased criminality, growth in extremist political movements, and even violent extremism.

We must also continue to recognise the legal distinction between radicalisation and violent extremism. Extremist political views may repel repellent many, but they are legal in democratic societies. We must prevent violence, not free expression, and preserve our democratic values and freedoms.

The government must shift towards a whole-of-society approach addressing vulnerabilities and agency, as well exacerbating factors such as social media, to effectively implement policies to fight youth radicalisation.

The fall of the House of Assad

/in

The swift collapse, after 54 years, of Syria’s al-Assad dynasty has just transformed the Middle East’s geopolitical landscape. The lightning offensive by the Islamist Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) militia took all of Syria’s neighbours—and everyone else—by surprise. The news that president Bashar al-Assad had fled to Russia confirms the one binding truth about wars: unintended consequences can extend far beyond the theatre of battle.

The October 7, 2023, attack that Hamas carried out against Israeli civilian communities bordering Gaza triggered earthquakes across the Middle East. Israel’s ruthless offensive to destroy Hamas in Gaza, and in Lebanon against Hezbollah, practically obliterated Iran’s ‘axis of resistance’, while the United States and Britain pummelled the Iran-backed Houthis in Yemen in response to Houthi attacks on international shipping.

Syria’s civil war began in 2011 when the Assad regime crushed peaceful Arab Spring protests. But the fighting largely subsided after 2015, when Russia’s intervention, together with assistance from Iran and Hezbollah, turned the war in Assad’s favour. Today, with Iran’s proxies destroyed and Russia’s war-fighting capabilities drained by its Ukraine quagmire, the rebels saw their chance.

With Turkish assistance, and apparently Qatar’s as well, the rebels easily overran the regime’s surprisingly thin defences, and Assad’s army capitulated without a battle. After Assad’s Iranian and Russian patrons hastily evacuated their forces and left him to his fate, a regime built on torture and mass slaughter no longer inspired fear.

The end of Iran’s alliance with Syria, its main stronghold in the Arab world, will reshape the regional balance of power. As Mohammad Ali Abtahi, a former Iranian vice president, put it two days before Assad fled, the Syrian government’s fall ‘would be one of the most significant events in the history of the Middle East. … Resistance in the region would be left without support. Israel would become the dominant force.’

The name Hayat Tahrir al-Sham stands for the liberation of the Levant, which in the early Caliphate’s political lexicon comprises Syria, Lebanon, Jordan and Palestine. But Abu Mohammad al-Jolani, the HTS leader, has tried to project an image of a new kind of Islamist. He seems to have drawn the necessary lessons from the failures of al-Qaeda and the Islamic State (ISIS) and now sees himself as a pragmatist who aspires only to bring about the ‘liberation of Syria from its oppressive regime.’

A sign of this new pragmatism is Jolani’s instructions to his men to allow Syria’s prime minister, Mohammad Ghazi al-Jalali, to continue to run public institutions until they are formally handed over. ISIS would have carried out mass executions of soldiers and officials.

Still, al-Jolani leads a hard-line Islamist organisation. Those who expect that Turkey may temper HTS’s extremism assume that Jolani would be an obedient soldier of Turkey.

In any case, al-Jolani faces powerful political constraints. He must reckon with myriad rival militias that united just to topple Assad, and also with the Kurdish forces who rushed to take control of more parts of eastern Syria, while under attack from Turkish forces in the north.

To Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the ambitions of Syria’s Kurds threaten to spur nationalist subversion within Turkey’s own Kurdish communities. In 2019, Erdogan sent his army to establish a 30-kilometer-wide ‘security zone’ in northern Syria and push Kurdish fighters away from the Turkish border, an area where the Kurds had seized the opportunity of the civil war to consolidate an autonomous enclave.

Jolani now must work hard to find a compromise between the Kurds’ desire to maintain their autonomy and Turkey’s ambitions to keep them away from the border area. Will Erdogan tolerate Kurdish territorial gains that he sees as a threat to Turkey’s national security? Will Jolani, who aspires to nationwide support, allow Turkey to wage war against the Kurds while he tries to form a governing coalition with them and uphold Syria’s territorial sovereignty?

Notwithstanding his chronic conflict with Syria’s Kurds, Erdogan views Assad’s fall as a grand achievement. He was ecstatic in following the rebel forces’ advance. ‘Idlib, Hama, Homs, and the target, of course, is Damascus. … Our wish is that this march in Syria continues without incident’, he said after last Friday’s prayers in Istanbul.

For years, Erdogan and his Qatari allies have been supporting Islamist groups throughout the Middle East. He saw himself in competition with the Iranians on what model of Islamic democracy should prevail in Muslim lands: the Shia fundamentalist brand or Turkey’s more moderate form. Now he believes he has won the opportunity to shape such a model close to home.

Although Syria’s rebels have much to thank Israel for in creating the conditions for their success, Israel harbours no illusions about its new neighbours. Al-Jolani was born in Syria’s Golan Heights (hence the name Jolani), which Israel captured in the 1967 war, and whose annexation and sovereignty was recognised by US President Donald Trump in 2019.

With the rebel march on Damascus, Israel lost no time in deploying combat units along the Syrian border. Israel is concerned about potential spillovers of armed groups into the Golan Heights and attempts to attack Druze villages on the Syrian side of the border, whose residents have relatives in villages on the Israeli side. With the memory of October 7 still raw everywhere in Israel, there is no complacency about weapons stockpiles in the hands of Islamists on the border.

But Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s hubris should not be underestimated. If the Syrian tyranny collapsed, why not try to topple Iran’s as well? Already, Netanyahu could not resist the temptation of going beyond mere defensive measures: arguing that the 1974 agreement that regulated the separation of forces between Israel and Syria had collapsed, he ordered Israeli troops to seize control of the Syrian part of Mount Hermon, as well as the buffer zone in Syria’s sovereign territory and the dominant positions adjacent to it.

Key US allies in the region are similarly worried. They, too, would have liked to see Assad remain in power, fearing that an Islamist-controlled Syria could become a haven for terrorism. In their view, Assad was a known quantity—and better than an Islamist rebel-led government, however moderate it claims to be.

But now Assad is gone. The Middle East is again in a state of dramatic flux that calls for everybody, winners and losers alike, to recalibrate their policies.