Whatever the CCP says, regimes don’t have the rights of nations

All nation states have a right to defend themselves. But do regimes enjoy an equal right to self-defence? Is the security of a particular party-in-power a fundamental right of nations? The Chinese government is asking us to answer in the affirmative. Australians need to say no.

As a governing regime, the Chinese Communist Party claims many of the prerogatives of a nation state. This includes a monopoly over the legitimate use of physical force—Max Weber’s classic definition of a state.

As the world adjusts to the rise of China, its leaders want us to make way for the CCP’s triumphal arrival as the regime that made it all possible. This includes recognition of the party’s right to self-preservation on par with the rights of nations.

The United Nations Charter affirms the sovereign equality of member states, including their right to preserve their territorial integrity and political independence, free from force or coercion, and to resist external interference in their domestic jurisdictions.

Nothing in the UN Charter or associated documents, however, commits member nations to recognising the same rights for regimes. This places authoritarian regimes such as the CCP at a geopolitical disadvantage in seeking international recognition commensurate with their wealth, power and prestige.

Regime competition runs on a different track to international geopolitical competition, Yale scholar Nicholas Bequelin recently observed in Foreign Policy. The liberal rules-based order of the postwar period lends greater legitimacy to democratic states than to autocratic ones. This hampers the CCP’s search for recognition as a particularistic regime with security interests that serve not only the country but the party and its desire for self-preservation. The motives driving China’s adversarial relationship with the United States, Bequelin concludes, ‘are to be found in the imperatives of regime competition rather than in pure geopolitical calculations.’

The quest for regime security does not end with a geopolitical victory here or there. No authoritarian regime can rest easy until the world beyond itself is rendered safe for the pre-emptive defence of regime security. So current great-power competition is not just a matter of ideological competition within a stable geopolitical system; it involves reframing the system to treat regime security and national security with equal legitimacy.

CCP leaders are moving to reduce their relative disadvantage by altering the terms of international engagement. One of Beijing’s goals in its commitment to new international groupings is to insert commitments to the equal rights of regimes into public declarations. For example, the BRICS security agenda is taking shape around CCP General Secretary Xi Jinping’s Global Security Initiative (GSI), which equates regime security with national security. The 16th BRICS summit concluded on 24 October last year with the release of its Kazan Declaration a security document that had strong similarities the GSI, which was first spelled out by Xi at the 2022 Boao Forum.

Key phrases in the Kazan Declaration clearly align with the principles of the GSI. One of these is the acknowledgement of the equality of the ‘legitimate and reasonable security concerns’ of all countries. The phrase appears anodyne, but it is lifted directly from Xi’s GSI, where its significance is clear from context.

Beijing initially deployed this phrase to justify Russian President Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, based on the allegedly ‘legitimate and reasonable security concern’ that an independent Ukraine posed a security threat to Russia. China could offer similar justifications for its claims over Taiwan and adjacent Japanese territories or its contested maritime claims in the South China Sea.

That’s just the start. In current Chinese usage, the term ‘legitimate and reasonable security concerns’ refers not only to conventional security issues to do with territory and sovereignty, nor even to non-traditional security concerns around climate, energy, water, pandemics and the like. It also includes the CCP’s concerns around its own security, which it equates with the national and international security interests of China. What is to be preserved here is the power and standing of the party.

Concern for regime security has long featured in CCP foreign policy thinking, but the international implications of this concern have only fully emerged under Xi. This began with a heightened focus on regime security at home. Starting in 2014, Xi transformed Beijing’s approach to internal security by drafting a National Security Framework which, as analyst Sheena Chestnut Greitens points out, is China’s first-ever national security strategy.

The Xi administration also introduced tough new security laws, systematically purging and restructuring the national security system and working to perfect a massive ‘sentinel state’ apparatus capable of preserving the power and status of the party indefinitely. Now, Greitens argues, Xi is applying China’s domestic security framework to foreign policy with a view to reshaping the regional and global security order, ensuring the party’s domestic grip remains as secure abroad as it is on home soil.

It follows that ‘legitimate and reasonable security concerns’ refers, among other things, to the security interests of the CCP regime and the overlapping cluster of security initiatives that flow from party concerns. These initiatives include silencing dissent outside its borders through transnational repression and forcing national governments into line through economic coercion.

This security setting led the party’s official representatives to issue guidelines to Australia’s federal government—the Fourteen Grievances—about what can and cannot be said about the CCP in Australian media and by think tanks and government. Even after relations stabilised, party authorities tracked individuals and communities in Australia by activating surveillance systems initially designed to secure the party’s grip on China.

Recognising regime security as a right of nations would essentially legitimise economic coercion, transnational repression, censorship and covert interference of this kind.

As rights of authoritarian parties are unrecognised in international norms and institutions, elevating the security concerns of a Leninist political party to the level of nation states is no easy matter. But, as Xi reminds us, prevailing norms and institutions are up for grabs in times of ‘great changes unseen in a century.’ Democratic states need to preserve the equal sovereignty of nations, as distinct from regimes.

Strengthening South Korea’s national security by adopting the cloud

To improve its national security, South Korea must improve its ICT infrastructure. Knowing this, the government has begun to move towards cloud computing.

The public and private sectors are now taking a holistic national-security approach that includes the country’s military capability and cybersecurity. Success in this approach will require an improved competitive edge across emerging technologies to project and defend national power.

Cloud-based ICT infrastructure provides scalable computing capacity by managing vast quantities of data and adapting to varying workloads. From a defence perspective, flexible computing capacity enables rapid scaling during different mission phases.

Beyond modernising internal ICT infrastructure and military readiness, increasing South Korea’s cloud uptake could improve the country’s military interoperability with regional partners by facilitating real-time sharing of data at lower levels of classification and sensitivity.

Such information sharing is particularly important considering the international growth of South Korea’s defence industrial base, which includes Hanwha’s facility in Australia and Korea Aerospace Industries’ ongoing support to the Philippine Air Force to enhance its air combat capabilities. Furthermore, if South Korea participates in specific AUKUS Pillar 2 projects, a common federated cloud-based platform could foster secure information-sharing, advancing collaborative development of advanced technological capabilities.

The South Korean government has introduced initiatives and policies to catch up on cloud adoption, including the 2015 Act on the Development of Cloud Computing and Protection of its Users, the 2022 Digital Strategy and a series of plans in 2024. But to improve cloud uptake in line with these policies and strengthen national security, the South Korean government must overcome several barriers.

The first of these barriers relates to the Cloud Security Assurance Program, a certification that cloud service providers (CSPs) must receive before working with South Korean government agencies. Despite a reformation in 2022, the certification process remains complex and lengthy. Australia’s Certified Cloud Services List program faced similar criticism for its complexity, and was terminated in June 2020 following an independent review by the Australian Signals Directorate.

ASD’s review into Australia’s cloud services list outlined a need for greater industry engagement, for example through co-designed cloud security guidelines and the establishment of industry consultative mechanisms. In South Korea, regulatory reform processes—sparked by uptake challenges in the public sector—must engage CSPs to better meet provider needs.

This will require a careful balancing act. Although international CSPs can now serve government agencies, their ability to support public systems managing sensitive or private data—labelled as mid-risk and high-risk tier segments—is limited. Conversely, domestic CSPs have argued that the entry of international CSPs into the government market threatens their survival.

While market competition is healthy, the concerns of domestic CSPs mustn’t be understated—the government plays an important role in the success of domestic tech companies, such as Samsung and Naver, which are now points of national pride.

To meet the commercial interests of both international and domestic CSPs, international-domestic collaborations must continue to be brokered in South Korea. One recent example is between KT Corporation and Microsoft Corporation, which involves the development of a sovereign cloud solution to drive cloud and AI innovation in the public sector and regulated industries.

The second barrier to cloud uptake is the country’s relatively low level of necessary expertise. Cloud-specific skills are required for organisations to assess the benefits of implementing cloud services. Despite the country’s technologically advanced status, a 2021 OECD report stated that less than 15 percent of South Korean small and medium enterprises provided general ICT education to employees.

The third barrier, also linked to inadequate cloud expertise, is perceived security concerns. South Korean enterprises are conscious of the risks that cyberattacks pose, such as those that North Korea’s Lazarus group has been conducting since 2009.

Many leading CSPs offer cyber protections through mitigation as well as response and recovery at scale, which would become particularly important in major combat operations near the Korean Peninsula, such in the South China Sea. However, organisations with limited cloud expertise often stick to existing systems due to misconceptions around cloud security and the perceived burden of data protection under the shared responsibility model.

To overcome these final two barriers, ICT professionals must upskill. Beyond government-led initiatives, such as a 2021 plan to nurture a talent pool of 10,000 cloud-trained professionals, CSPs are taking the lead. For example, Amazon Web Services Korea offers free cloud-computing education to South Korean jobseekers.

South Korea’s slow adoption of cloud computing presents a gap in its national security and technological competitiveness. The government has recognised cloud infrastructure as essential to strengthening national power and interoperability with allies and partners—ultimately supporting defence, economic growth and emerging technologies. This has pushed South Korea to develop uptake strategies, but regulatory hurdles, low digital literacy and security concerns are persistent challenges. Encouraging collaboration between CSPs and improving digital literacy will only become more important as cloud technology becomes central to South Korean security.

Reset Pax Americana: the West needs a grand accord

The world is trying to make sense of the Trump tariffs. Is there a grand design and strategy, or is it all instinct and improvisation? But much more important is the question of what will now happen, as new possibilities emerge from the shock effect of the tariff announcements and from subsequent moves and counter-moves.

For many, the United States is behaving erratically and imprudently, not least by lashing out at its allies and partners and by confusing financial markets. It’s risking its credibility by engaging in what appear to be irrational and self-harming actions that have already generated systemic financial shocks. Confidence in US leadership and economic rationality is being shaken.

To judge what might happen next, one must see the through-line—namely, Trump’s long-held grievance about what he sees as unfair global economic arrangements and widespread freeriding on the US, and his willingness to deploy all instruments of power to set this right. For Trump, the functioning of the global financial and trading system has seen the US incur the costs of entrenched trade deficits, hollowing out of the US industrial base and overvaluation of its currency, a consequence of the reserve status of the US dollar and US Treasury bonds.

At the same time, the cost of underpinning global security since 1945, through the so-called Pax Americana, has been borne disproportionately by the US taxpayer, who now carries US$36 trillion in federal debt. For the first time in its history, the US is spending more on debt interest than on defence. Meanwhile, allies and partners, with few exceptions, have minimised their defence spending wherever possible.

It is clear that Trump will no longer tolerate a situation where other countries gladly consume the security that the US produces, at significant cost to US taxpayers, without contributing materially to that security and while enjoying the prosperity it brings.

Bargains regarding prosperity and security are often intertwined. The 1944 Bretton Woods agreement was negotiated at a time when the postwar security order was being shaped. The deal ended in August 1971, when President Richard Nixon suspended the US dollar’s convertibility to gold and introduced a 10 percent import tax to compensate for ‘unfair exchange rates’—overvaluation of the US dollar. In September 1985 in what became known as the Plaza Accord, the US agreed with leading western economies that the US dollar would be devalued in a managed fashion to tackle a mounting US trade deficit. All the while, the US kept up its end of the bargain in protecting allies and partners.

We should not be surprised that from time to time, the US might deploy its enormous strategic and financial power to reset the terms of global prosperity and security. Whether by design or otherwise, we appear to be in another such moment.

Through the shock of the Trump tariffs, the US has created for itself an extraordinary opportunity to restructure the global trading and financial system, with two twin objectives in mind. These are to increase the relative gains from that system for Americans and to reallocate the costs of Pax Americana, so that they are borne more by allies and partners and less by US taxpayers.

To this end, the US should pursue a new global agreement, which might be called the Pax Americana Accord. It should bring all issues to the table in the process, so we are not dealing later with other, related shocks—say, with US currency or debt issues—or with doubts over US alliance commitments.

The best way to do this, in a way that would take maximum advantage of the opening that the tariff shock has created, would be for Trump to call an urgent meeting of what might be termed the ‘G7+’. This would not be a meeting whose objective would be to craft and issue a worthy but forgettable communique. Terms would be set out and agreed in outline, under the threat of total trade war. The details could then be hammered out over the remaining balance of the 90-day pause period.

The G7+ would consist of the US, Germany, Japan, Britain, France, Italy and Canada (as G7 members), along with India, Brazil, South Korea, Australia, Mexico, Indonesia (representing itself and the rest of Southeast Asia) and the European Union (in its own right and also representing the 24 non-G7 EU members). The G7+ would represent 67 percent of global GDP. Others, such as Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Switzerland, Argentina, the United Arab Emirates and Israel, could sign on to the new accord at a later date, as might Taiwan.

The meeting would agree the broad outlines of a Pax Americana accord, which would ultimately address and, as necessary, resolve the following issues:

—US chronic trade deficits and US complaints about tariff and non-tariff barriers to its exports;

—China’s deliberate manufacturing overcapacity, which is creating global trade and financial imbalances, unacceptable supply chain dependencies and a dangerous capacity for rapid war production, all endangering the security and economic resilience of the US and its allies and partners;

—China’s re-exports to the US by way of countries such as Mexico, Vietnam and Indonesia, which would have to be blocked, lest China evade what will be crippling US tariffs and other trade barriers (if a US-China deal cannot be separately done);

—Technological de-risking in relation to Chinese goods and services, to prevent China from gaining security advantages by passing high-risk technology into foreign economies;

—The enduring role of the US dollar as the world’s reserve currency, a global public good that the US provides;

—Long-term funding of the US Treasury, whereby US debt underpins global security (by paying for US military capabilities, another global public good) but where others who consume that security also enjoy income returns as debtholders and are not liable for the recapitalisation of those capabilities;

—US concerns about its industrial base, the strength of which also underpins global security and so represents another global public good;

—Defence spending of US allies and partners, most of which will need to build greater capacity to defend themselves without having to rely on US forces, at least in the early stages of a war;

—Potential for co-production of defence capability, in which allies and partners make larger contributions to US development programs; and

—Strategic reservation of critical minerals and other tangible assets by US allies and partners and the granting to the US of concessional access to these assets.

This is an ambitious agenda. A Pax Americana accord would address US trade grievances but more importantly would better spread the costs and risks of global security. It would reset the terms of Pax Americana such that it could be sustained. The US would be reassured about its strategic solvency, and allies and partners would take an active stake.

This would require negotiation of complex deals and arrangements. Achieving it would mean treading a narrow path. Careful and precise execution would be required, especially to reassure financial markets, which are always inclined to lose their minds during periods of uncertainty. If only we had a modern-day James Baker, the driving force behind the 1985 Plaza Accord. With the mandate of Reagan, who set the direction without managing the details, Baker deployed US power through velvety diplomacy in pursuit of US interests, knowing that US allies and partners would always prefer to deal with America, even when it was having a bad day. Has their attitude changed from Baker’s time? We are likely to find out over the next 90 days.

China will have to brought into any accord at some point. The underlying problems that have led us to this point are largely a consequence of Beijing’s strategy of concentrating industrial power in China. This has stunted development of a services-based economy in China, distorted global trade and supply chains, hollowed out Western industrial bases, delayed the industrialisation of the Global South and created national security and economic resilience risks for the US, its allies, partners and others.

Through a concerted strategy, as sketched out here, global trade could be rebalanced such that China would have to divest itself of overcapacity, including to the benefit of less developed countries.

By reallocating the costs of Pax Americana, the US would gain more financial and strategic resources to deal with the risk of China’s growing power and its strategic ambitions. It would be sustainably solvent, sitting at the centre of a reformed global system of prosperity and security. That would be worth the volatility of recent days. Whether we have arrived here through great cunning or as a consequence of instinct and improvisation does not matter much. What matters is the art of getting the deal done.

The Pacific Response Group is making pleasing progress but needs more buy-in

The Pacific Response Group (PRG), a new disaster coordination organisation, has operated through its first high-risk weather season. But as representatives from each Pacific military leave Brisbane to return to their home countries for the winter, there is still plenty of work to do.

The PRG should focus on two key priorities. Firstly, it should engage all members of the Pacific Islands Forum to highlight how the PRG can benefit them as it grows and expands. Secondly, it should consult with regional partners and organisations on the development of operating frameworks to facilitate the group’s deployment.

In October, members of the South Pacific Defence Ministers’ Meeting endorsed the establishment of the PRG. The novel multinational military initiative aims to deepen cooperation to improve Pacific military support for humanitarian assistance and disaster relief (HADR). Aiming to be of immediate use to the region, the first step in establishing the PRG was to co-locate an advisory capability in Brisbane available for rapid deployment (originally referred to as the Pacific Special Advisory Team in official announcements).

The PRG is composed of 19 people from across its six member countries—Australia, Fiji, France, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea and Tonga. It deployed to its first disaster just before Christmas, when a planning team of six arrived in Vanuatu to offer advice and support after the devastating earthquake in Port Vila. Since Port Vila’s recovery could be handled by civilian heavy machinery and by urban search and rescue, the PRG planning team quickly determined that a greater military response was not required.

It probably wasn’t what the PRG was expecting for its first call-out: to deploy to a country that lacked a military and deal with a disaster that didn’t require military support. But it was an important and successful exercise in responding fast and exiting in a timely and appropriate manner. There is valuable experience to be gained in practising deployment and communication in the early days of a disaster response.

As we exit the high-risk weather season, October to March, PRG members will return to their home countries, and their deployment response time will rise from 48 to 72 hours. While cyclones are far less likely, the low-risk weather season does not actually bring a much lower disaster risk for most countries. The PRG will stay active and seek to get involved where possible in Pacific national disaster planning exercises, including regional exercises such as Longreach and the French-led Croix du Sud.

But the PRG is still trying to develop its image and brand. Not all national disaster management offices are fully aware of the group, its mission, its capabilities and its plans. Greater engagement is needed across the region, not only from PRG personnel but from officials in-country who regularly engage with government and non-government disaster management organisations.

As the current host of the PRG and the country with the largest regional footprint, Australia should take the lead in promoting the group through diplomatic channels and encourage other partners to do so where possible. The PRG should also develop its online presence to provide the public with more information about the group and its aims and activities.

The PRG should also prioritise establishing appropriate legal mechanisms for the group to enter Pacific countries when requested. Because of the multinational nature of the PRG, it does not neatly fall under any bilateral agreements, such as status of force agreements, that Australia and other military countries may have in the region that enable their forces to enter efficiently upon request.

In March, Pacific security leaders convened at the annual Joint Heads of Pacific Security meeting in Port Moresby, where PRG operations were discussed as part of a regional operations deployment framework. The framework would ‘close a gap in existing regional security architecture by providing a common mechanism to support Pacific-led responses to Pacific security challenges’, according to the meeting’s joint communique.

This would be an efficient way to support PRG operations in the region, in addition to other initiatives such as the Pacific Police Support Group (a multinational deployable police capability). But a complicated regional framework would require endorsement by Pacific leaders and could take years to negotiate and finalise.

In the meantime, the PRG should still consider how it will grow to better meet the needs of the region in coming years. Our October report, Stepping up military support to humanitarian assistance in the Pacific, provides further targeted recommendations for Australia and other PRG members to consider as the group continues to take shape.

Indonesia’s cyber soldiers: armed without a compass

The Indonesian military has a new role in cybersecurity but, worryingly, no clear doctrine on what to do with it nor safeguards against human rights abuses.

Assignment of cyber responsibility to the military is part of controversial amendments to the Armed Forces Law which the parliament passed in March and which significantly broadened the armed forces’ role in civilian governance.

The government says these amendments are crucial for strengthening Indonesia’s capabilities in information operations, with the military playing a pivotal role in safeguarding national interests in cyberspace. Military officials have also said the military’s cyber capabilities will not be used to police digital spaces or restrict freedom of expression. They point to the establishment of the Singaporean armed forces’ cyber force in 2022 as a precedent and to cyber operations in the Russia-Ukraine war as developments the amendments aim to address.

However, cyber defence without a guiding doctrine is akin to navigating a battlefield without a compass. The Indonesian military lacks a published cyber strategy, so its mandate in cyberspace is unclear. The most recent strategic document, the Guidelines on Non-Military Defence, issued by the Defence Ministry in 2016, does not specifically address cyber operations and is now outdated. More recent policies, such as the 2020–2024 National Defence Implementation Policy and the 2023 State Defence Doctrine, mention cyberattacks and hybrid warfare but fail to clearly define the military’s role or response.

Important questions remain unanswered: What constitutes a cyber threat? Who are the adversaries? What measures are deemed appropriate responses?

Without clear answers, the military’s involvement in cybersecurity risks allowing actions that may infringe on civil liberties.

Historically, Indonesia’s security apparatus has prioritised conventional threats: separatism, terrorism and political instability. This traditional focus has shaped a strategic culture that is poorly equipped for the complexities of the digital realm. Since the establishment of its Cyber Unit in 2017, the Indonesian military has struggled to meet personnel requirements, filling only around 40 percent of planned positions.

Although recruitment criteria have been adjusted to attract more civilian talent, the shortened military education for these recruits has raised concerns among officials about their integration into military units, particularly regarding their understanding of the chain of command and commitment to military service. Rather than fostering a comprehensive cyber strategy, the recent amendments appear reactive, potentially leading to overreach and the suppression of dissent under the guise of national security.

Expanding the military’s role into cybersecurity also raises concerns about the militarisation of civilian spaces. Cybersecurity inherently intersects with civilian life, covering such issues as privacy, freedom of expression and access to information. Entrusting the military with significant authority in this domain, without stringent oversight and accountability, risks undermining democratic principles and human rights.

The military’s history of information operations complicates things. Traditionally, the Indonesian military has conducted psychological operations aimed at shaping public perception and behaviour. It has often portrayed online criticism as information warfare, sometimes framing it as part of a proxy war involving foreign entities attempting to erode public trust in the military.

This narrative is particularly evident in operations in Papua, where critics frequently highlight the military’s harsh treatment of civilians, its role in protecting government-approved businesses, and incidents involving the killing of non-combatants. Integrating such operations into the cyber realm without clear boundaries and oversight presents risks of enabling the manipulation of information, the dissemination of propaganda, and the suppression of dissenting voices under the pretext of maintaining national security.

Moreover, the process behind the amendments has drawn criticism for its lack of transparency and public consultation. Deliberations were reportedly fast-tracked and conducted behind closed doors and civil society was sidelined. This potentially risks unchecked military influence in civilian governance.

The digital age undoubtedly requires robust cybersecurity measures, but these must be underpinned by clear strategies and respect for values such as privacy and freedom of expression. Without a well-defined doctrine and appropriate safeguards, the military’s expanded role in cyberspace risks becoming a tool for repression rather than protection.

The new stipulation offers no substantial change from the military’s existing responsibilities to counter espionage and sabotage that target military networks and critical government infrastructure. It is therefore unclear which specific threats the new law seeks to address, especially given that an academic paper published by the parliament does not mention cyber threats even once.

To navigate this complex terrain responsibly, Indonesia must develop a comprehensive cyber strategy that clearly delineates military and civilian roles, establishes robust oversight mechanisms and upholds the democratic values that the nation has worked hard to build since the fall of authoritarian rule. Without such a framework, Indonesia’s cyber soldiers remain armed without a compass—operating on a complex digital battlefield without clear direction, to the potential detriment of the very freedoms they are meant to protect.

The US harms its image in the Pacific with aid cuts and tariffs

USAID cuts and tariffs will harm the United States’ reputation in the Pacific more than they will harm the region itself.

The resilient region will adjust to the economic challenges and other partners will fill gaps, but what will last is the memory of being a non-factor in the Trump administration’s foreign policy. The sentiment might not last forever, but the US must pursue reputational damage control. In the meantime, Australia needs to ensure that it’s not the only partner covering the US’s absence.

The Pacific is not even an afterthought in the stream of announcements and changes that have come under the new Trump presidency in the US. With sweeping cuts to USAID and tariffs threatening global supply chains, there are plenty of challenges on the horizon.

Some may argue that the US wasn’t doing much in the Pacific outside of Micronesia to begin with, and in many ways that is true. But even if it could have been much larger and more effective, the support from the US has had value. Its withdrawal is a hard pill to swallow for those it will directly affect.

The decision to freeze funding to USAID came in February, with more than 80 percent of USAID programs (worth more than US$50 billion) to be cut. Climate, refugee and sexual health programs were high on the hit list.

According to the Lowy Institute’s Pacific Aid Map, the US has been the fifth-biggest funder of the Pacific—behind Australia, China, Japan and New Zealand—providing around 7 percent of all development funding in the past decade.

Some have claimed that most USAID money to the Pacific goes through Australian NGOs. But of USAID’s recent US$249 million annual contribution, $75 million (around 30 percent) was in partnership with Australian NGOs—far below a majority. USAID has provided tangible support in pivotal programs that will be sorely missed.

Uncertainty around the future of USAID-funded projects for HIV/TB and Malaria is already affecting Pacific communities. Programs improving accessibility to climate financing for Pacific island countries are at a tipping point, and key gender-based violence initiatives that provide workshops on domestic violence, women’s empowerment and mental health are in limbo.

In response, Australia has redirected some of its aid from multilaterals to more direct action. But Australia does not have the capacity or resources to simply take over where the US left off, nor should it. Australia must find a way to get other partners to help fill the gap, whether through new minilateral partnerships or increasing its effort in multilateral initiatives.

Donald Trump’s Liberation Day tariffs have made things worse for the US. Most Pacific island countries received the baseline tariff of 10 percent, but Fiji, Vanuatu and Nauru all received higher tariffs. The US has suspended the higher tariff rates as it seeks to bring parties to the negotiation table, but for Vanuatu and Nauru, the amount of goods exported to the US is small anyway.

OECD data shows that in 2023 the US received 3.29 percent and 0.57 percent of Vanuatu and Nauru’s exports respectively, amounting to a few million dollars. Fiji would be hit the hardest: the US is its top export destination, receiving 31.8 percent of Fijian exports. The value in 2023 was more than US$366 million. On ABC Radio, Fijian Deputy Prime Minister Biman Prasad slammed the tariffs, calling them ‘unfair and disproportionate’.

In making these tariff decisions, the US hasn’t considered its partnership with Pacific island countries or accounted for potential implications. The tariffs may not directly spell doom for many, given the availability of other export destinations. But countries are concerned that the flow on effects to global supply chains will affect tourism and increase import costs.

While the consequences of these tariffs are hard to predict, we can be confident of one lasting effect: the memory of a careless and inconsiderate US.

So far, many leaders see these decisions as the actions of an individual, rather than a state, but trust has still suffered. The US has previously clawed its way back into relevance, but even if it can do so again, the lesson will not be forgotten: the US could, at any time, step away from the region.

For Australia, a little distance from the US wouldn’t hurt, particularly as China will likely tar the two countries with the same Western brush, as it has been doing for years. Australia must also look to partners such as Japan, India, South Korea and the European Union to test their appetite for stepping up regional support. Though sometimes overlooked, these actors have all contributed to the Pacific and sought to deepen engagement in the past decade. Their value should not be underestimated.

At the end of the day, the US is doing greater harm to their reputation than to Pacific nations. While we should be wary of an unpredictable US administration, we should not underestimate the resilience of Pacific island nations.

The threat spectrum

Democracy watch

Indonesia’s parliament passed revisions to the country’s military law, which pro-democracy and human rights groups view as a threat to the country’s democracy. One of the revisions seeks to expand the number of civilian agencies accessible to military personnel from 10 to 15, encompassing roles within the Coordinating Ministry for Political, Legal and Security Affairs, the Attorney General’s Office and the Supreme Court. The move is seen as blurring the line between military and civilian authority, effectively reviving the dual-function doctrine, under which the military had a role in both security and socio-political affairs.

ASEAN Parliamentarians for Human Rights warned that expanding the military’s role in domestic security could lead to suppression of peaceful protests and civil society activities. It also cautioned that Indonesia’s move could normalise military involvement in civilian affairs across the ASEAN region, reflecting similar patterns of democratic backsliding in countries like Thailand and Myanmar.

A Strategist article highlights that the revision should raise concerns for Australia, the United States and other democratic nations that backed Indonesia’s political and military reforms during the Reformasi period.

Planet A

According to the CSIRO, sea surface temperatures in Australia’s marine jurisdiction have risen by 1.08 degrees C since 1900, with the past decade being the warmest period on record. Sea surface temperatures around Australia have reached new records in the past five months, and oceans are expected to stay unusually warm throughout autumn.

Rising ocean temperature, salinity and acidity can alter how sound travels and, therefore, affect submarine detection. A 2024 study found that submarine detection ranges are decreasing due to changing conditions in strategic regions, such as the North Atlantic and Western Pacific.

Info ops

Misleading posts are circulating on Chinese social media platform Rednote, with some experts fearing that the content could interfere in Australian domestic affairs. The posts include AI-generated deepfake videos claiming that the Australian government plans to expel Chinese Australians and revoke their citizenships—a claim that officials have strongly denied. Researchers note that the app has a unique algorithm that makes it easy for misinformation to spread.

According to experts, the misleading content could be part of a broader political disinformation campaign aimed at sowing fear and distrust within migrant communities. A federal election will be held on 3 May. The Australian Electoral Commission has said it is not actively monitoring the platform.

Follow the money

Critical minerals are primed as bargaining chips in trade negotiations. A range of minerals central to high-tech supply chains, such as graphite and rare earth metals, were exempt from the tariffs that the United States imposed last week.

The Australian government has begun leveraging Australia’s rich mineral reserves in negotiations with the US. On 4 April, it announced plans for a ‘strategic critical minerals reserve’. But details are scant so far. It’s unclear whether the government intends to hold back a certain volume from export for use as leverage or to move more refining and processing onshore. The Minerals Council of Australia has treated the whole idea with caution.

Terror byte

The Trump administration has withdrawn funding for counterterrorism research, including a grant of nearly $1 million for a project led by the Australian National University.

The grant in question was provided by the US Department of Homeland Security to investigate the prevalence and nature of grievance-fuelled violence and acts of terrorism within the US. The department says the project was terminated as it ‘no longer effectuates department priorities’.

Experts warn that these cuts will weaken intelligence and law enforcement capabilities, particularly around far-right extremism.

Australia needs a civilian cyber reserve. State emergency services are the model

Australia should follow international examples and develop a civilian cyber reserve as part of a whole-of-society approach to national defence.

By setting up such a reserve, the federal government can overcome a shortage of expertise in cybersecurity and increase national resilience to cyber threats. It could be modelled along the lines of state emergency services.

In doing so, the government should consider the way state emergency services are formed and mobilised when needed. Legal safeguards will also be needed to protect the recruits and also organisations that would receive assistance from the reserve when subject to cyberattack.

Malicious cyber activities are a persistent threat faced by nation states globally—from cyber operations against critical infrastructure, to cyber-enabled disinformation operations seeking to undermine social cohesion.

As noted by the director-general of the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, Mike Burgess, the cyber threats faced by Australia include those from nation states seeking to pre-position themselves in Australia’s critical infrastructure, allowing them to carry out more disruptive and destructive attacks in the future. At the same time, a global skills shortage in the cybersecurity workforce undermines the capacity to defend against these threats.

In response to these issues, several countries are seeking to harness volunteers in cybersecurity and defence. Funded by the Department of Defence’s Strategic Policy Grants Program, we are currently carrying out research mapping out some of the key initiatives around the world.

The United States, for example, is carrying out a pilot project establishing a Civilian Cybersecurity Reserve. This was in response to recommendations made by the US National Commission on Military, National, and Public Service which in 2020 argued that a federal civilian cybersecurity reserve would allow US agencies to obtain additional cybersecurity capacity from cyber experts when needed. These recommendations were echoed in the 2020 final report of the US Cyberspace Solarium Commission which argued that a cyber reserve would play a key role in mobilising surge capacity using existing links between the private sector and the government.

The developments in the US follow similar developments elsewhere. Ukraine’s IT Army made headlines in 2022 when it called on hackers from around the world to join Ukraine’s defence against Russian aggression.

Estonia’s Cyber Defence Unit, within its Defence League, was established already in 2011 following large scale distributed denial of service attacks against Estonia a few years prior. Another example is the Cyber Peace Builders NGO which helps connect corporate volunteers with not-for-profit organisations to improve their cybersecurity.

The proposed US federal-level cyber reserve also follows from developments in several US states that already have similar structures in place. These began with the Michigan Civilian Cyber Corps, established in 2013; a growing number of states including Ohio, California and Texas have followed suit. These civilian cyber reserves engage in a variety of activities, ranging from education in schools and public organisations, cybersecurity audits, and incident response. They can provide high-level training and certifications for their members for free and organise cyber war games exercises for participants.

Often compared to volunteer firefighters or other volunteer-based emergency services, cyber reserve organisations provide an opportunity for cyber experts to give back to society and help increase cybersecurity awareness, resilience and preparedness. For example, in March 2025 the Ohio Cyber Reserve responded to a cyber incident affecting the municipal court of the city of Cleveland, and it also deployed in 2024 when the city of Cleveland was subject to a ransomware attack by Russia-affiliated actors.

Australia should follow and create a civilian cyber reserve. However, several considerations must be addressed for it to be effective. These include the appropriate structure, membership, criteria for organisations to be eligible for support, and relevant legal safeguards.

In terms of structure, it could be modelled on existing organisations such as state emergency services which operate at the state level and are designed to help communities both prepare and respond to natural disasters. Initial members could be recruited from those with a high level of cybersecurity expertise, but gradually the membership base can be built through training and upskilling of volunteers with general cybersecurity skills or other relevant subject matter knowledge.

The identification of eligible organisations should start with public organisations at the state and local levels, including schools and hospitals. Finally, appropriate legal structures will need to be explored to protect volunteers, as well as to protect the confidentiality of organisations seeking support.

Creating a civilian cyber reserve can promote a culture of cybersecurity and be an avenue through which volunteers can use their expertise to help others and give back to the community. Having a structure like this in place in peacetime also provides a potential capability that can be harnessed in times of crisis or conflict.

Joint naval exercises with Russia undermine Indonesia’s commitment to international law

Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto has repeatedly asserted the country’s commitment to a non-aligned foreign policy. But can Indonesia still credibly claim neutrality while tacitly engaging with Russia?

Holding an unprecedented bilateral naval drills with Moscow in Indonesian waters while Russia wages a full-scale war against Ukraine is a strategic misstep. The move risks undermining Indonesia’s own stated commitment to upholding international law. It also creates a perception of inconsistency in its foreign policy and weakens its moral standing on the global stage.

In November 2024, Indonesia and Russia held their first-ever bilateral naval exercise, Orruda Joint Training, in the Java Sea near Surabaya. While Russia had previously participated in regional maritime drills with the Association of Southeast Asian Nations in 2021, this was the first time Jakarta engaged in naval exercises solely with Moscow. The move was deemed controversial, as it took place amid widespread condemnation of Russia for its serious breaches of international law.

Shortly after the drills with Russia, Indonesia also conducted its largest-ever combined military exercise with Australia, Keris Woomera. Taking place from 13 to 16 November under the Indonesia-Australia Defence Cooperation Agreement, the exercise involved around 2000 personnel from both nations’ navies, armies and air forces. Similarly, from 25 August to 6 September 2024, Indonesia hosted its annual Super Garuda Shield exercise with the United States in East Java. Twenty-three nations participated in the drills, with 11 countries actively involved in the exercises.

By conducting drills with both Russian and Western militaries, Indonesia emphasised its non-aligned stance. Analysts state that Jakarta was sending a signal to the world, particularly the Indo-Pacific region, that Indonesia will not take sides and intends to continue building relations with all major powers and regional players.

This position is often cited as part of Jakarta’s ‘free and active’ foreign policy, which reflects its desire to befriend all nations, regardless their political orientation. As Prabowo has stated on multiple occasions, ‘A thousand friends are too few, and one enemy is too many’.

Yet Indonesia’s decision to proceed with naval drills alongside Russia amid that country’s ongoing war in Ukraine is questionable.

Many legal experts have stated that Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine violates the UN Charter and constitutes one of the gravest breaches of international law: the crime of aggression.

On 27 February 2022, Indonesia joined 140 other countries in a UN General Assembly resolution that condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, reaffirming its support for Ukraine’s sovereignty, independence unity, and territorial integrity. The resolution further ‘[deplored] in the strongest terms the aggression by the Russian Federation against Ukraine in violation of Article 2 (4) of the Charter’. This signals Indonesia’s apparent stance against Russian aggression—a signal that contradicts its justifications for the joint military exercises.

On 17 March 2023, the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants against Russia’s President Vladimir Putin and Maria Lvova-Belova, the Commissioner for Children’s Rights. This was followed by warrants on 5 March 2024 against Lieutenant General Sergei Kobylash and Admiral Viktor Sokolov for war crimes and crimes against humanity. On 24 June 2024, further warrants were issued for Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov on similar charges.

Indonesia’s non-alignment provides the flexibility to engage in military training with any nation. However, conducting exercises with a state that is in flagrant violation of international law is highly imprudent, especially while the conflict is ongoing.

Moreover, if Jakarta intends to justify its position under the banner of non-alignment, it must revisit the principles set forth at the 1955 Bandung Conference, which served as the bedrock for the formal founding of the Non-Aligned Movement in 1961. Chief among these principles is mutual respect for sovereignty and non-aggression. Engaging in military training with an aggressor directly contradicts the very essence of non-alignment.

Seabed sensors and mapping: what China’s survey ship could be up to

Civilian exploration may be the official mission of a Chinese deep-sea research ship that sailed clockwise around Australia over the past week and is now loitering west of the continent. But maybe it’s also attending to naval duties.

These could have included laying or servicing seabed acoustic sensors and possibly detailed mapping of parts of the ocean floor to support future submarine operations.

Open-source tracking data enables such educated guesses to be made, without discounting the possibilities of economic and scientific data-gathering.

The ship, Tansuo Yi Hao (Exploration 1) took a similar route around Australia in January 2023, investigating 1100km of the Diamantina Trench over 34 days. China’s state media later said this was the first time the bottom of the trench had been reached. The ship carries a crewed submersible, the Fendouzhe (Striver), capable of long-duration forays to the seabed in depths exceeding 10,000 metres.

As in 2023, rather than proceeding directly home from New Zealand, where it was conducting joint activities with a partner institution, the ship has again undertaken a long deviation around Australia. Its transitory presence in the Bass Strait and inside Australia’s 200 nautical mile exclusive economic zone (EEZ) was nonetheless permissible under international law, as long as the ship undertook no commercial survey activity and maintained continuous passage, showing ‘due regard’ to the coastal state.

However, speculation quickly grew that Tansuo Yi Hao could be gathering intelligence on Australia’s seabed cables. When questioned by media about its presence, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said he ‘would prefer that it wasn’t there’.

Tansuo Yi Hao subsequently stayed mostly outside of the EEZ as it traversed the Great Australian Bight. Nor did it appear to loiter before reaching the Diamantina Trench, about 1100km off the Western Australian coast and well beyond Australia’s maritime jurisdiction.

Given the inherently dual-use nature of China’s marine scientific research assets, it would be prudent to assume that Tansuo Yi Hao and the submersible are subject to some level of military tasking. They belong to China’s Institute of Acoustics, which according to its own website has ties to the armed forces, dating back decades.

Sending a survey ship around Australia is less obviously coercive than similarly deploying a naval task group, as Beijing did in February and March, and China’s survey vessels are more common near Australia than generally known. But the passage is a further demonstration of China’s growing strategic reach and interest in operating beyond the first island chain.

According to automatic information system data from Starboard Maritime Intelligence, Tansuo Yi Hao has paused daily for 12 to 17 hours over the Diamantina Trench since 6 April. This is consistent with the reported underwater endurance of Fendouzhe of up to 15 hours. During that time, Fendouzhe could have deployed new devices or serviced acoustic arrays already on the seabed near the trench. The sensors could gather valuable military intelligence about signatures of ships that pass them.

The Diamantina Trench is too far away to be of obvious use for monitoring the approaches to HMAS Stirling, Australia’s sole submarine base and the main hub for future combined Australian, British and US submarine operations under AUKUS. It is also too deep for submarine operations. However, China reportedly has developed deep-sea surveillance networks that can operate in the extreme pressures of ocean trenches and use acoustic characteristics of the trenches to detect sounds from as far away as 1000km, including from passing ships and submarines. Listening devices are said to be attached to a seabed cable that is connected to a small buoy that in turn serves as a battery power source and relay for satellite communications. Around a decade ago, two arrays were reportedly laid in deep sea trenches near Guam and near Yap, an island in the Federated States of Micronesia. Since then, China’s sensing technology has continued to advance at an impressive pace.

The survey ship’s return visit to the Diamantina Trench after two years could be associated with a need to service or replace equipment and collect data gathered since 2023. Unfortunately, Australia has very limited capabilities for monitoring the seabed beyond its continental shelf, so it would likely be none the wiser if Tansuo Yi Hao deployed seabed devices during its current visit—or two years ago, for that matter.

To be sure, China’s deep-sea survey expeditions have economic and prestige motivations, which may even be preponderant. However, it would be foolhardy to discount the possibility that Tansuo Yi Hao and other specialised survey vessels are also used to support China’s naval ambitions.

China’s navy is probably interested in seabed mapping for its own future submarine operations, and while submersibles are able to map only limited areas, with emerging technologies they can do so in impressive detail.

In the public domain at least, it remains unclear whether Chinese submarines have previously operated south of Australia. But Tansuo Yi Hao’s two recent survey expeditions, taken together with China’s recent warship transit south about Australia, suggests Beijing’s strategic interest in Australia’s southern seaboard is rising. This is no surprise given the growing strategic importance of HMAS Stirling.

Australia must understand that China is paying it greater attention, in strategic terms, as a result of the AUKUS initiative and the developing footprint of the US force posture here. This is likely to motivate a more regular Chinese maritime presence in our vicinity, comprising not only military assets but dual-use capabilities such as survey ships. Assuming otherwise would be akin to burying our heads in the sand.