Tag Archive for: Australia

Australia can be an arsenal of democracy

According to media reporting, the Australian defence company DefendTex will provide Ukraine with 300 of its Drone40 small uncrewed aerial vehicles. The specification sheet for the D40 says it has a range of 20 kilometres and a maximum flight time of 30 to 60 minutes. The D40 has a variant that carries a 40-millimetre grenade and functions as a loitering munition, or ‘kamikaze drone’ in common parlance, but it’s also capable of carrying other payloads such as sensors and electronic warfare options. Its small size means it can be easily carried by dismounted soldiers and can be launched either from a 40-millimetre grenade launcher or simply thrown into the air.

Coming on top of the most recent announcements of further high-tech US military aid, it’s good news for Ukraine. It’s increasingly clear that the war there is a struggle between 20th-century industrial-age warfare and 21st-century digital- and information-age warfare, with Ukraine’s supporters in liberal democracies providing it with the systems needed to successfully conduct the latter. While Russia’s industrial-age model may initially have had the advantage, that was largely due to the legacy of years of industrial production of weapons and munitions, which are now being rapidly consumed on the battlefield. But the technological pendulum is increasingly swinging in Ukraine’s favour in ways that Russia can’t hope to match, particularly while it is suffering from sanctions on high-tech components such as computer chips.

The export success is also good news for DefendTex, an Australian-owned company with a history of innovation in the defence and security sector. But the sale does raise some issues. The first is, when will the Australian Department of Defence acquire the D40 in commercial quantities? The system, developed with funding support from the Defence Innovation Hub, is now mature. It’s been acquired by the British Army and trialled by the US Marine Corps. In fact, after trialling it, British soldiers insisted on taking it with them on their deployment to Mali.

We’ve seen a proliferation of small drones in the war in Ukraine, both military and commercial. Any conflict Australian troops deploy to will be no different. But do we really want to see Australian troops having to improvise solutions on the battlefield—as the Ukrainians have been forced to do, such as by using 3D printers to attach legacy mortar rounds to small consumer drones and turn them into mini-bombers—when Australian industry already has the ability to provide them with world-leading equipment?

Defence’s innovation programs are a microcosm of the broader Australian research and development effort—we create innovative products but can’t seem to commercialise them at home. The D40’s development was funded by Defence grants—but one has to ask why Defence is funding innovative technologies if it’s not going to acquire them once they’re demonstrated to work. It’s a common refrain from Australian small and medium-sized enterprises. In other countries, sales to the local defence force spur exports; here, Defence often won’t buy local products until they’ve been sold overseas, and even then it’s no sure thing.

The bigger issue is what this sale tells us about Australia’s industrial capability. Australian industry can develop precise, lethal capabilities, and it can do it fast. And it doesn’t need overseas intellectual property to do it.

This is relevant in the context of the sovereign guided weapons enterprise announced by the previous government to provide secure supply chains for the munitions that are essential for modern warfighting. But so far, there seem to be two answers to the question of how we make anti-tank missiles here. The first, based on the experience of the Israeli Spike missile, is we don’t. Four years after the government announced Spike missiles would be built in Australia, Defence still hasn’t started, apparently due to certification issues.

The second answer, based on the trajectory of the sovereign guided weapons enterprise over the past two years, is to establish some kind of partnership with a large US prime contractor, then spend years negotiating around the strictures of the US International Traffic in Arms Regulations, overcoming Congress’s qualms about outsourcing US jobs, setting up a production line, sourcing hundreds of components from supply chains around the world and finally, at some point down the track, producing a missile.

However, if we turn the question around and ask how we can quickly develop ways to destroy armoured vehicles, we don’t have to default to the answer being ‘Build anti-tank missiles.’ If we leverage the innovation and technologies of the commercial sector it can be done quickly. In short, it’s a lot easier to precisely move high explosives from one point to another 10 kilometres away using existing commercial technologies such as small rotary-wing motors than it is to design and build rocket motors and put missiles around them. DefendTex has demonstrated that, but there are other small Australian companies that have adopted that approach to deliver the ‘small, the smart and the many’ in the form of cheap but precise loitering munitions.

By all means, let’s build US missiles here, but we also need to pursue other lines effort as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, if we have to wait for Defence to certify everything using its existing processes and standards, it seems we’ll be waiting a long time for capability. Of course, the Ukrainians don’t seem to be too concerned about certification of the weapons they’re pressing into service.

The basic fact is that Defence is an artificially protected monopoly. Monopolies simply can’t innovate rapidly. The reason our electricity sector has managed to move down the path of renewables as far as it has despite the stonewalling of the previous federal government and the incumbent major players is that many other players have gained entry, creating competition and driving innovation. There are ways in which Defence should enjoy a natural monopoly; we don’t advocate for mercenaries. But when Defence is both a monopoly provider of security services to the government and a monopsony consumer of security goods and services from industry, it is a recipe for stagnation. Sometimes Defence needs firm external direction—it’s the role of the new government and the defence strategic review to provide that.

Developing Australian companies’ ability to produce small guided weapons at scale won’t just benefit our defence force. We’ve recently seen the prospects for conflict over Taiwan intensify, provoking greater debate in Australia about what we would do if Beijing ordered an assault. Providing Taiwan with tens of thousands of small kamikaze drones that can sinking landing craft and destroy armoured vehicles will make a tangible difference to its prospects of resisting invasion—perhaps even more of a difference than sending a small number of high-value Australian Defence Force assets and their crews.

By leveraging the benefits of Industry 4.0, Australia can become a key part of the arsenal of democracy.

Parliament and the Australian way of war

The way Australia goes to war needs new conventions to give parliament a greater role in the weightiest choice any nation can make.

Creating parliamentary customs or conventions is the only realistic way to touch the prime minister’s almost unfettered power to launch war.

The parties of government—Labor and Liberal—will not give parliament any legal hold over the prime minister’s profound prerogative for war. Convention will have to be created, instead. Much history—both military and political—informs this understanding.

Since federation, war has been a defining element of Australia’s identity and the way we approach the world. In a span of nearly 90 years—from 1914 to 2003—Australia chose to go to war nine times.

The political truth is that prime ministers and governments—creatures of the House of Representatives—are usually fighting the Senate, where the government of the day seldom commands a clear majority. The parties of government will not give the Senate any more power, especially over the war powers.

The Senate experience means that politics pushes against the logic of putting into law the proposal in 2010 from a former Australian Army chief, Peter Leahy, that a resolution of each house of parliament should authorise overseas service. Leahy’s recommendation for parliamentary ratification for military deployments reads:

Both Houses of Parliament should be required to authorise by resolution any decision to commit the Australian Defence Force to warlike operations or potential hostilities within sixty days of the decision to commit forces. Given that the contemporary kinds of conflict tend to run for many years, ADF deployments should then be reconsidered by the Parliament on an annual basis.

A resolution of parliament within 60 days of war or deployment draws on a similar period in the US War Powers Act. Skip by the question of how much the US Congress has checked the president’s war powers to consider Leahy’s equally important call for clear public statements of national interests and strategy. Here his wording shifts from parliamentary resolution to government statement:

For each military deployment, the Australian Government should provide and routinely update a clear statement of national interests and strategy. The strategy statement should include the elements of power to be used, the end state to be achieved, an indication of the exit strategy and likely time frame for the commitment of force.

The many parallels between Australia’s entry into the Vietnam and Iraq wars offer the history for seeking benchmarks the parliament can apply to the executive’s profound prerogative. If not aspiring to legal checks, let’s at least have a good checklist.

Former Australian ambassador Garry Woodard’s examination of how the prerogative worked in deciding to commit in Vietnam and Iraq showed ‘the dominance of the Prime Minister, decisions made in secret by a small group of ministers obedient to him, minds closed against area expertise, preference for party political advantage over bipartisanship, and willing subservience to and some credulity about an ally, the United States’.

As usual, Woodard shows his deep understanding of the Canberra system. The caution also offered by history, though, is that greater parliamentary involvement would not have stopped Australia going to Vietnam, Afghanistan or Iraq. Parliament can give greater transparency about Australia’s march to war and set benchmarks for judging the course of war. But parliament might not curb the war habit.

Wedging Labor on the Vietnam commitment in 1965, the Coalition government rode initial voter enthusiasm for the war to increase its majority in the 1966 election, arguing that Labor’s opposition to Vietnam showed it was weak on the US alliance. Both sides of Australian politics supported the 2001 invasion of Afghanistan and any greater parliamentary involvement would have been an expression of that unanimity.

Iraq divided the parliament just as it split Australia from the very start. John Howard used his prerogative as prime minister with the precision of a master politician. He held his cabinet and party together (Labor was again wedged), and Australia joined the Iraq invasion—lots of alliance loyalty but few smarts in committing early with few questions.

The idea of more smarts and more questions is where a bigger role for parliament comes in.

Australian researcher Peter Mulherin pursues this in ‘War-power reform in Australia: (re)considering the options’, arguing for a new war-powers convention as a small step towards democratising the decision of going to war: ‘While not legally binding, this constitutional convention would represent an agreement by the major parties that overseas combat operations will be properly debated in Parliament.’

Beef up the informal rules that guide the parliament so it can impose informal constraints on the executive’s power. Express what parliament and the people are owed, perhaps codified in a non-binding resolution. Strengthening parliamentary convention would be an improvement on the status quo, Mulherin concludes:

Despite some arguing that legislative reform is preferable, it may also be impossible, given the reluctance of the Coalition and ALP to change the law. Therefore, a new constitutional convention would be an important step towards strengthening debate when Australia goes to war.

In ‘Going to war democratically: lessons for Australia from Canada and the UK’, Mulherin argues that Canada and the UK have taken steps this century to ‘parliamentarise’ their war powers, while in Australia the prerogative remains absolute.

Citing Canada and the UK as comparable parliamentary democracies with close alliance and historical ties, Mulherin lays out a three-step argument about what Canberra can learn from London and Ottawa: ‘(1) a more democratic foreign policy formation is a normative “good”; (2) war-power reform is one way to democratise foreign policy formation; and (3) lessons drawn from the examples of Canada and the United Kingdom may help Australia reform its war-power arrangements’.

So, no law, but stronger conventions in the House of Representatives offering more detailed benchmarks for the powers of review held by the Senate.

Over the past two decades, prime ministers as diverse as Howard, Tony Abbott and Julia Gillard have offered small footholds on which parliament could build. My next column will draw wordage from those footholds to do some convention drafting.

Marles’s strategic review presents an exploding suitcase of challenges

The Labor government’s defence strategic review will explore how the Australian military is positioned and enabled to operate in our region as the security environment requires.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese announced the review on 3 August and it’s to report by March 2023. That’s so that the government can make decisions at the same time as it decides on the path to give Australia eight nuclear-powered submarines within an AUKUS partnership that makes them safe and effective.

The independent heads of the review, former foreign and defence minister Stephen Smith and former Australian Defence Force chief Angus Houston, have an enormous amount to do and almost no time to do it.

Before they even get to thinking about what their task requires—‘to ensure Defence has the right capabilities to meet our growing strategic needs’—Smith and Houston will need to confront the ugly fact that Defence’s current plans are already unaffordable despite the large and growing defence budget the Albanese government has committed to.

Nasty choices and suboptimal trade-offs are needed before any new ideas that take money are even put forward; and the only megaproject not yet agreed that can provide potential savings is the $20–27 billion army plan to buy an additional 450 heavily armoured vehicles for purposes that aren’t clearly connected to Australia’s needs in our region. These purposes must now be made clear if this project is to proceed, in whatever form.

But even that multibillion-dollar megaproject is a distraction to the real work. As my new Strategic Insight paper says, the review must give Deputy Prime Minister Richard Marles what he needs to provide practical, urgent direction to Defence in four big areas:

  • climate change and the ADF’s inescapable, but unwanted, role
  • China’s direct security challenge in Australia’s near region—which makes our strategic environment uncomfortably clear, not complex as we like to tell ourselves
  • new ways to increase Australian military capability quickly—because no taxpayer is going to give Defence more funding if it can’t show it has different, faster ways to increase the ADF’s military power
  • the danger of prioritising ‘integration’ in all things in pursuit of the military nirvana of ‘every sensor a shooter and every shooter a sensor’—because that highly aspirational goal is the enemy of getting capabilities into the hands of our military fast.

Since 2016, and even since the Morrison government’s 2020 defence strategic update, we’ve experienced a rolling maul of confronting developments for our security and for the collective security of our close allies and partners.

They include the return of war to Europe with Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, the nasty realisation that the strategic partnership between Putin’s Russia and Xi Jinping’s China is only strengthening as that war proceeds, and the demonstration of Xi’s willingness to use China’s military in increasingly belligerent and aggressive ways in the South China Sea, around Taiwan and near Japan.

Add in the now present effects of climate change domestically and in our region and the disasters and dislocation that it’s already causing. Then there’s the shattering of confidence in the reliability of what, in the world of Covid-19, coercive trade measures and the fracturing effects of Putin’s war, seem now to be quaintly called ‘global supply chains’ and global markets. That matters to Australia, and in particular to our defence organisation, because global—or at least extended international—supply chains are the basis for most of Defence’s support arrangements.

But, on top of all that, the most disturbing and dangerous development for Australia’s security is China’s now open strategic intent to play a direct and growing role in our near region, made concrete by the security pact Solomon Islands Prime Minister Manasseh Sogavare signed with Beijing earlier this year.

In the light of these changes, it’s now obvious that, whatever security assistance Australia will get from the US and other partners in times of crisis, like Ukraine, we’ll need our own means to act in our own defence as a precondition for assistance from others.

That’s true whether it’s our key ally, the US, our other trusted partners such as the Quad’s Japan and India, or our other AUKUS partner, the UK. So, the defence strategic review must set out the decisions for the government to make that will put real substance on the notion of ‘self-reliance within an alliance construct’. That hasn’t been done seriously since the Dibb review in the late 1980s.

Debates about whether or not to spend 2% of GDP on defence are already overtaken by events. The defence budget line committed to by the new government has the budget growing to well over 2% by 2030. That was calculated using much rosier predictions for Australia’s rate of economic growth between now and 2030 than look likely in the darker international economic times we’re already in. It was also calculated using much lower inflationary expectations than we’re experiencing now.

So, just to mark time and maintain real purchasing power, the defence budget needs to be increased.

But Defence can’t expect public support for an increased budget without showing that it will use new ways to increase the power of the ADF fast enough to matter.

And the reviewers themselves have some rethinking to do. Each had his most intense exposure to the strategic situation, and to the arcane issues in our defence organisation, around the late 2000s and early 2010s. That’s when the force structure plans that Defence is still implementing and still deeply attached to were made. That was also a time when China’s aggressive trajectory was much less obvious, and before the fragility of global supply chains was revealed.

Escaping from some of what they think they know from that earlier time is possible—and essential if the review is to help the government and Defence make the changes our strategic environment demands. It’s a case of channelling that line attributed to Winston Churchill when he was accused of hypocrisy: ‘When the facts change, I change my mind.’

Repacking the exploding suitcase that is the defence budget and wrapping all this up by March 2023 means the review is time poor. On this, the review reflects Australia’s security situation: time is a precious resource to be used wisely in ways that rapidly increase our security and help to deter others from thinking that conflict is a smart choice.

Ten rules of the Australian way of war

‘For a century, Australian leaders have been engaged in the war game. And just as a game has rules, there are rules for effectively playing the war leadership game.’

— David Horner, The war game: Australian war leadership from Gallipoli to Iraq

Examining how Australia decided to go to war nine times in a span of nearly 90 years—from 1914 to 2003—the military historian David Horner distils 10 rules.

The rules are short and sharp.

Yet like the Bible’s Ten Commandments, Horner’s rules are simple only in their expression. What is asked for is the ultimate test of leaders and it’s devilish in what it demands of the nation. Failure in this game is deadly.

Embracing the ‘cautious recommendations’ of Horner’s The war game, the former Labor leader and defence minister Kim Beazley observes: ‘This is a book of lessons for Australian political leaders on managing wars. An analysis of actual performance against those lessons is humbling.’

After analysing Australian war leadership in the wars from Gallipoli to Iraq, Horner offers these rules.

1. The war leader’s most important decision is whether to commit the nation to war. In the First and Second World Wars, Horner writes, ‘this decision was taken out of the hands of the Australian government’. But in all the wars that followed, from Korea to Iraq, the decision to commit forces ‘became increasingly controversial, raising questions about the process, and whether legislation should be introduced to ensure these decisions are taken by the parliament rather than the executive government’.

In an ASPI interview (audio below), Horner judges:

I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps there should be some limit on the power of the prime minister and the government to make these decisions. Because, as I said, these are the most important decisions. They result in deaths to Australians. Tragedy for the families. The financial cost to Australia. The cost to Australia’s reputation.

If there was an emergency, the government has to have the capacity to react, straight away. But for so many of the commitments that we have made since the Second World War, it was not absolutely vital that we go into operations straight away, tomorrow. No. There was always a period of time. Maybe there’s a political imperative with our allies to make an announcement. On the other hand, if we had delayed in so many of those commitments, would it have made the difference?

That leads to the consideration, with these decisions being extremely important and far-reaching, whether there should be some mechanism by which the government has to put the decision to the people of Australia through the parliament.

2. War leaders determine the level and nature of the commitment. In the First World War, Horner writes, the decision was taken before the formal outbreak of the war. Robert Menzies’s government was more cautious about this in 1939, while the decisions in Vietnam were incremental. During all the wars from Korea to Iraq, Horner observes, Australia has ‘tried to keep the commitment as small as possible’ while reaping the alliance benefits.

3. The prime minister is not the source of all wisdom. ‘Obviously, expert military advice is important, but so too is the advice of senior ministers with their specific responsibilities.’

4. The government must have confidence in its military commanders. In a democracy, Horner writes, ‘war leadership involves the interaction between the political leaders and their top military advisers’. And, he judges, there’s ‘no perfect model for the civil–military relationship’. The outstanding war leader Winston Churchill ‘drove his military advisers to distraction, but in the end was loath to overrule them’.

5. Ensure that operations are conducted in accordance with government policy. ‘A fundamental of effective war leadership is to ensure that the government’s wishes are followed on the battlefield.’

6. Get access to allied strategic decision-making. ‘Menzies and [John] Curtin struggled with this issue in the Second World War, and it persisted in the later wars. In the invasion of Iraq, the Australians detected that the plans for the subsequent post-invasion phase were deficient, but were unable to change them. The lesson for Australia is to remain constantly vigilant, and a prime task for war leaders is to manage Australia’s role in the alliance.’

7. Australia must gather its own intelligence. Don’t rely on the big alliance partner for all the facts, interpretation and understanding. The message for Australia’s leaders, Horner writes, ‘is not just the need to have effective diplomatic and intelligence agencies, but also for the government to listen to them’.

8. Manage the politics. The power of Australia’s prime minister to wage war depends on their power in parliament. Billy Hughes split Labor over conscription in World War I. In World War II, Menzies fell as prime minister because he ‘failed to manage the politics of his own party in 1941,’ Horner writes. ‘It is just as important to deal with the politics within the party as to deal with the Opposition. [Bob] Hawke understood this as he sought to deal with his party critics in the Gulf War. [John] Howard managed the Coalition’s politicians superbly and gave the Opposition little capacity to manoeuvre in the lead-up to the invasion of Iraq.’

9. Manage the media. Tough censorship and tight control of newspapers worked during the two world wars. Since then, speaking to the voters depends on versions of media ‘management’.

10. War leadership will always take place in an environment of uncertainty. In this game, the other side plays as it wants, and can make its own rules. ‘Intelligence assessments can usually determine an enemy’s or potential enemy’s capabilities, but they are less certain about actual intentions.’

The 10 rules of Australia’s way of war act as guide, not law. Here’s my interview with David Horner on the rules.

The Australian way of war

In a span of nearly 90 years—from 1914 to 2003—Australia chose to go to war nine times.

In the 100 years from 1914, Australian military personnel were on active service for nearly half the time—47 years.

Finding that frequency ‘startling’, one of the greats of Australian military history, David Horner, an emeritus professor in the Strategic and Defence Studies Centre at the Australian National University, has penned a book on how and why Australia keeps going to war.

The war game: Australian war leadership from Gallipoli to Iraq starts with a quote from Jonathan Swift: ‘War! That mad game the world so loves to play.’ Then Horner examines the deadly way Australia plays: ‘Warfare certainly has elements of a game: there are two, sometimes several opponents; there are rules, although these are sometimes broken; there are winners and losers; and it becomes addictive.’

What explains the addiction? Why did a nation with its own continent—‘largely remote from countries that might pose a major threat’—go out to fight?

Horner seeks the themes in the nine conflicts: the First and Second World Wars, the Korean War, the Malayan Emergency, the Indonesian Confrontation (when Indonesia sought to prevent the formation of the new nation of Malaysia), the Vietnam War, the Gulf War, the Afghanistan War and the Iraq War.

He offers this judgement about the constants that connect the fights:

Australia has always gone to war as a junior partner in an allied coalition. Its leaders have had little scope to influence allied strategy and their decisions have been unlikely to affect the outcome of the war. The main decisions of Australia’s leaders have been whether Australia should go to war, and the level of commitment to the war.

One big change after World War II is that Australia fights not to decide a war, but to buttress an alliance.

The purpose is to get credit without too many casualties. In the seven conflicts since 1945, Australia’s eyes were on political ends. Our weight was not decisive, since the level of our military commitment was not critical to victory.

Alliance politics shape and drive Australian strategy. The war decision is a culmination, not the start. What Australia did in Vietnam echoes in Iraq and Afghanistan.

‘Like the commitment in Vietnam,’ Horner notes, ‘Australia’s military involvement in the Middle East had grown over the previous dozen years to a point that made it difficult to avoid continuing once the Americans sought further assistance.’

The lesson to draw from Iraq, he writes, is that ‘the US process for going to war was deeply flawed and Australia would be wise to treat any US plan for war with deep suspicion; and Australia should not smugly assume that it might not engage in the same faulty process in the future’.

The calculations in Australia’s war game involve a ruthless realism.

Our leaders sent the military off to what became the failures of Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq. Australia’s military performed well, as failure took a long time to arrive. The alliance prospered.

The voters of Australia have often blessed the alliance politics of their leaders. The commitments are embraced. The failures are regretted and the losses mourned, but the game is repeated.

Here’s my interview with David Horner on Australia’s way of war.

China and Russia driving big changes in Japanese strategic thinking

Pressure from an increasingly aggressive China and the example of Russia’s war on Ukraine have driven rapid changes in the views of Japan’s people on defence and military cooperation with nations such as Australia.

Launching a new ASPI report, Japan’s security strategy, Ambassador Shingo Yamagami said attitudes in his country had shifted very significantly in recent years.

That view was reflected strongly by the report’s author, ASPI senior fellow Thomas Wilkins.

The two were joined at the launch by Australian National University professor Rikki Kersten, an expert on modern Japanese history who has focused extensively on foreign policy, security policy, the US–Japan alliance and Australia–Japan relations.

Yamagami said that as a diplomat and a national security professional he’d spent the best part of his career examining how Japan could better defend itself against external and internal challenges. ‘Japan has witnessed an increasingly severe security situation, partly as a result of the emergence of a new and more belligerent regional power, coupled with events in Europe.’

Aware of their longstanding defence and security relationship with the United States, many Japanese people spent decades in what the ambassador called ‘a relatively benign state of awareness’ about their nation’s security and the threats from beyond its borders. That allowed Japan to concentrate primarily on economic recovery and growth following the devastation of World War II, while providing the US with bases for the defence of Japan and the peace and security of the region.

In time, Japan’s economy gathered strength to the point where it supported the economic development of many countries, including Australia and China.

‘Yet the legacy of the war years, which led to the loss of 3.1 million Japanese lives, still lingered deep within the national psyche of the Japanese,’ Yamagami said. Having been brought to the edge of the abyss, there was a strong, almost a visceral reluctance to become engaged in any activity that might resemble a proactive defence stance.

Only after lengthy constitutional legal arguments were Japan’s first peacekeepers deployed in 1990 to Cambodia where they worked in tandem with the Australian Defence Force, he said. Members of the Japan Self-Defense Forces were deployed to the Middle East after the first Gulf War in 1991.

Over a decade later, challenges to Japan’s sovereignty and territorial integrity by an increasingly assertive China, North Korea’s nuclear and missile programs and the attempts of China and Russia to undermine the rule of law accelerated a shift in Japan’s collective mindset towards an active, dynamic national security doctrine, Yamagami said.

‘Some might say that what was once considered a glacial change in mindset, as in negative terms, jumped to light speed in the wake of Russia’s egregious and brutal invasion of Ukraine.’

That was borne out by public opinion polls supporting the provision of non-lethal defence equipment to Ukraine and adopting more proactive activities abroad. In May, a majority of respondents to an NHK poll said they agreed with Japan possessing counter-strike capabilities and increasing its defence spending. This remarkable change in mindset was reflected in Prime Minister Fumio Kishida’s government agreeing to a substantial increase in the defence budget and fundamentally reinforcing defence capabilities.

‘What has happened to Ukraine has come as a stark reminder of how deterrence must be used to defend the national interest and uphold territorial integrity, sovereignty and the rule of law,’ Yamagami said. Such changes meant that Japan’s forces could now legally help protect Australian and US naval vessels in a conflict.

Yet, said Yamagami, Japan also knew it could not ensure its security by force of arms alone. ‘It has presented an ambitious vision of a free and open Indo-Pacific in which each and every member enjoys security and prosperity.’

Japan revived and had been a driving force in promoting the Quad arrangement with Australia, the US and India, with new initiatives in maritime domain awareness, climate change, disaster relief, cyberspace and infrastructure announced.

‘Japan has been blessed by the strong support Australia has shown in building defence ties with us over the past decade, which recently culminated in the reciprocal access agreement. This is the first such agreement that Japan has signed with any country and is a mark of the respect and trust in which we hold our special strategic partner Australia.’

There was an expectation that the bilateral defence relationship would become a lot more active with much more exercise activity.

The ambassador said that with changes in Japan’s strategic thinking, it was making a much larger, much more dynamic and much more ambitious contribution to regional and global security than at any time since World War II, and ‘when change comes, it is permanent and irreversible’.

The world, he said, stood at a precipice and faced choices between protecting the rule of law or submitting to the law of the jungle. ‘Japan is actively working to keep the beast at bay with the help of like-minded and law-abiding residents of the global village.’

Wilkins outlined the three key elements of Japan’s security strategy covered in detail in his report— diplomacy through the vision of a free and open Indo-Pacific, domestic mobilisation of its security apparatus and defence forces, and the strengthening of alliances and partnerships. ‘The Japan–Australia partnership is a valuable joint mechanism for diplomatic, security, defence, economic and military coordination to the benefit of both parties,’ he said.

The ideal of a free and open Indo-Pacific had been adopted or engaged with by the US, Australia and Asian nations, and stood out as a successful example of Tokyo’s new entrepreneurship in regional order building.

Tokyo recognised that to support this vision in tandem with allies, partners and other willing states, as well as to safeguard its own national security, it must do more.

‘Though Japan remains committed to an exclusively defensive military posture, it has sought to meet intensified regional challenges through the creation of a multi-domain defence force.’

Japan had steadily worked to craft a purposeful and multi-layered security strategy that would permit Tokyo to shape the regional order in line with its values and interests, enhance national and regional deterrence, and allow better responses to regional contingencies, Wilkins said.

‘Much of the credit for this significant achievement should be accorded to the late prime minister [Shinzo] Abe.’

Kersten acknowledged the changes in Japanese policy development but suggested that the nation still embraced a culture of self-constraint. ‘Even former prime minister Abe, with his incredible policy ambition, had to buckle to reality and resort to the self-imposed constraint that attaches to every single Japanese security policy.’

There clearly remained in Japan a gap between policy ambition and public opinion, Kersten said.

Yamagami responded by repeating that public opinion in Japan—’what Japan stands for’—was shifting in response to what was happening in the East China Sea and Ukraine.

Wilkins made the point that Japan had made very sensible and incremental rational responses to a rapidly changing environment. By taking those steps with other nations, Tokyo had provided reassurance that Japan was not just going out there on its own in a very radical or unpredictable direction.

Yamagami said he expected to see a greater exchange of military personnel between Japan and Australia. ‘We would like to welcome more ADF personnel to Japanese bases and we would like to see more Japan Self-Defense Forces personnel coming down to Australia. This will certainly serve as a strong deterrent.’

Kersten said ‘the most astonishing thing’ about the positive trajectory of the Australia–Japan security partnership was that it was trust-based. ‘It’s not utilitarian. We don’t have a strong trading partner who we’re trying to keep happy with a nice little security ribbon tied on top. The relationship had overcome a wartime past that was tough to overcome. It’s not just about trade, it’s not just about security; it’s political, it’s cultural and all these other things are enmeshed together.’

Kersten said Japan and Australia were increasingly collaborative in regional multilateral settings. ‘They came to the table with joint principles and values and objectives and worked together to achieve a jointly desired outcome.’

In terms of where the Japan–Australia relationship could go, Yamagami emphasised the importance of involving the private sector in areas such as biometrics, artificial intelligence and cyber technology—areas where Japanese companies are world-leading and always on the lookout for opportunities in Australia, also involving the US.

Kersten said a renewed joint security declaration should include a clear statement of intent to involve relevant private-sector entities in the joint enterprise of security. ‘This would mark out the new joint declaration as more than just a feel-good anniversary event. It would actually mean something then.’

Wilkins said Japan had much to offer in developing standoff and strike capabilities. ‘That might be something to think about given the shortage of stockpiles that we all face.’

The US in the Pacific: delivering on commitments or déjà vu?

On 13 July, US Vice President Kamala Harris addressed the 51st Pacific Islands Forum leaders’ meeting by video link. Harris’s speech was unexpected and unprecedented, since the US is a forum dialogue partner rather than a member. Pacific leaders had opted this year not to hold the traditional post-forum partners’ dialogue, at which partner states (including the US and China) meet with forum leaders after their leaders’ meeting. Pacific leaders wanted to ensure that there was ‘space’ to resolve issues and determine priorities without having to manage the demands and expectations of external partners.

The decision not to hold the post-forum dialogue was in part due to Pacific leaders’ frustration about strategic competition overshadowing and undermining Pacific priorities and agendas. Last month it emerged that China had invited the 10 Pacific island states it has diplomatic relations with to a virtual meeting with Foreign Minister Wang Yi on 14 July, coinciding with the leaders’ retreat.

By having Harris deliver her speech at the forum, the US disturbed the equilibrium that Pacific leaders had achieved on geopolitical matters. But for at least some Pacific leaders, that disturbance was convenient: it sent a pointed message both to China and to those Pacific countries that have recently moved closer to it.

During her speech, Harris declared: ‘We recognise that in recent years, the Pacific islands may not have received the diplomatic attention and support that you deserve. So today I am here to tell you directly: we are going to change that.’ She announced seven commitments to ‘strengthen the US partnership with the Pacific islands’ including two ‘firsts’—the appointment of a US envoy to the Pacific Islands Forum and the adoption of a US national strategy on the Pacific islands nested under its Indo-Pacific strategy.

Several of the US initiatives are bound in caveats. The US$600 million over 10 years for economic development and ocean governance is dependent on annual congressional approval, and the opening of embassies in Kiribati and Tonga and the USAID hub in Fiji are dependent on congressional notification. The return of the Peace Corps to the Pacific is not a new initiative.

The declared commitments follow a speech by Kurt Campbell, the US National Security Council’s coordinator for the Indo-Pacific, at the Center for Strategic and International Studies on 23 June. In that speech, Campbell emphasised the need for American ‘humility’ and repeated the mantra, ‘nothing in the Pacific without the Pacific’.

On 24 June, the Partners in the Blue Pacific (PBP) initiative, involving the Australia, Japan, New Zealand, the UK and the US, was launched. This informal mechanism is intended to ‘support prosperity, resilience, and security in the Pacific’ with the aims of delivering results more effectively and efficiently, bolstering ‘Pacific regionalism’ and expanding opportunities for cooperation between the Pacific and the rest of the world.

But there are questions about what is driving America’s renewed attention to the Pacific islands and the ways it is seeking to engage. The islands have undergone significant change over the past two decades. As a ‘great power’, the US has much to learn about how to engage much smaller Pacific states and to navigate Pacific statecraft.

Harris’s emphasis on ‘partnership, friendship and respect’ and Campbell’s calls for the US to be ‘humble’ were well intentioned and appealing to Pacific audiences, and they were well received. Following the vice president’s speech, Bainimarama declared that the US was to ‘become a Pacific partner like never before’ and Pacific Islands Forum Secretary-General Henry Puna said the US announcement showed the ‘deep substance’ underpinning its commitment to the region.

But will the US be able to deliver? The gaps between announcements of US initiatives and their actual implementation are notorious in the Pacific, with many prior funding announcements failing to get through Congress. When Secretary of State Hillary Clinton attended the forum in 2012, she also made a raft of promises—many of which were not delivered.

This highlights the pattern of inconsistency in US policy towards the Pacific islands since the Cold War and raises the question of whether the region can rely on the renewed US focus lasting beyond a change of government (potentially in two years’ time). The window to embed policies that bring about long-term engagement could be narrow.

If American engagement in the Pacific does ramp up significantly, how many island states and territories will have the capacity to absorb the new expenditure and programs? Most Pacific bureaucracies are small, and even hosting the increasing number of government officials visiting from the US and other partner countries imposes a serious burden. There’s a risk that ineffective engagement will squander resources and relationships.

Coordinating the new US programs and activities with other partners will be key. While the PBP initiative includes this as a priority, past form suggests that even the closest allies, such as the US and Australia, can have difficulty moving beyond bilateralism. While the PBP initiative may expand, it is also notable that France was not included in the initial list of participants, despite possessing several territories in the region and being a treaty ally, or partner, of the US and other members.

Pacific leaders have long called for improved donor coordination. The Cairns Compact that Pacific Islands Forum leaders adopted in 2009 seeks to do just that. The US, Australia and other partners (although notably not China) signed up to the compact, but the PBP makes no reference to it. This raises the questions of how the PBP initiative will align with the existing regional architecture and whether new mechanisms are needed when existing Pacific-created ones are underutilised.

Concerns have already been expressed that the PBP initiative co-opts the language of the ‘Blue Pacific’, which forum leaders use to describe the interconnectedness and collaborative approach of the region. But beyond rhetorical emphasis on forum centrality and Pacific priorities, the PBP initiative appears to sideline the forum in practical terms. Indeed, the US intends to convene the PBP partners’ foreign ministers at the end of the year to review ‘our progress’. Why are forum members not being asked to measure the effectiveness of the PBP, or at least to participate in that meeting?

This contains echoes of a longstanding dynamic of US engagement in the Pacific islands: asking Australians and New Zealanders to speak for the Pacific in Washington. Indeed, Campbell stressed that the US would listen to Australia and New Zealand, its two partners with the most significant engagement in the Pacific islands. Allies and partners can make important soft-power and practical contributions to alliance burdens beyond military power but, while Australia and New Zealand have much expertise and experience to offer, their advice should always be secondary to what Pacific states are themselves saying.

Deep knowledge and understanding of the Pacific, built on enduring relationships with Pacific leaders, officials and civil society, is critical to ensuring that US initiatives are appropriately designed and targeted.

It’s promising that Harris and Campbell emphasised listening to Pacific leaders about their priorities. But that will require some logistical investments. Proximity matters in Washington, and few Pacific island states can afford to maintain a diplomatic presence both in Washington and at the United Nations in New York. Most favour the latter. Facilitating their travel to Washington for regular consultations would be a big help.

And Pacific knowledge in Washington is scant. There are hubs of Pacific experts in Hawaii and Guam, as well as a large Pacific diaspora in the US, yet they appear to be given few opportunities to inform US government policy. There’s an opportunity for Washington-based think tanks to deepen their networks by drawing on Pacific experts and scholars beyond the beltway.

Indeed, Campbell’s comment at CSIS that the US ‘can’t really get away with saying we’re part of the Pacific, but we kind of are’ reveals a blind spot in the American strategic imagination. While Hawaii is a US state and Guam, American Samoa and the Northern Mariana Islands are US territories, the ‘freely associated states’ of Micronesia, Palau and Marshall Islands are ‘managed’ by the US Department of the Interior. Overlooking US relationships with these Pacific territories and states might stem in part from the fact that the US hasn’t yet come to terms with its history in the region. The scars of US colonialism, militarism and nuclear testing remain visible—as do the long-term health, environmental, economic and social effects.

While Harris’s speech was warmly received by several forum leaders, Pacific buy-in to the US’s efforts and the PBP initiative cannot be taken for granted. Pacific island states have long demonstrated their agency in dealing with more powerful partners and are well aware of the challenges they face and the best ways to tackle them. Unless they are equal partners in any negotiations related to how the US and its partners conduct their activities in the region, the island states are unlikely to support these overtures—and China’s presence means that they have other options.

The US will therefore need to ensure that its enhanced engagement with the Pacific islands is framed as being driven by genuine and sustained interest in the region. The new emphasis on building an American presence—diplomats, aid workers and the Peace Corps—is overdue. But the US will quickly learn that presence doesn’t necessarily equate to partnership—let alone influence. Instead, building relationships and trust takes time, patience and, yes, humility.

Marles says ADF must quickly develop greater range and lethality

Deputy Prime Minister and Defence Minister Richard Marles has prioritised the need to bridge the divide between the 2020 strategic update’s warning that Australia could face a major conflict within 10 years and current plans to strengthen the Australian Defence Force over several decades.

In his first speech in the United States since taking office, Marles said the fresh force posture review he’d commissioned was to be delivered early next year in tandem with the report of the nuclear-powered submarine taskforce to identify the optimal pathway to obtaining eight potent submarines for the Royal Australian Navy.

He told the Centre for Strategic and International Studies in Washington that the two comprehensive reports would help determine how best to equip and structure the ADF and how to enable it to integrate and operate more closely with the US and other key partners.

Marles said the new government would make the investment necessary to increase the ADF’s range and lethality so that it could hold potential adversary forces and infrastructure at risk further from Australia. This would include longer-range strike weapons, cyber capabilities and area-denial systems tailored to a broader range of threats, including preventing coercive or grey-zone activities from escalating into conventional conflict.

‘We will invest in the logistics, sustainment and depth required for high-intensity warfighting, including guided munitions. This will in turn require deeper engagement with industry to accelerate capability development and strengthen our supply chains.’

He said his priority would be the ‘game-changing’ AUKUS trilateral partnership with the US and the UK that included delivery of the nuclear submarines. ‘For a three-ocean nation, the heart of deterrence is undersea capability,’ Marles said. ‘AUKUS will not only make Australia safer; it will make Australia a more potent and capable partner.’

In planning the submarine acquisition, the government was acutely aware of the obligations of nuclear stewardship, he said. ‘We are focused on the whole enterprise: safely stewarding sensitive technology, building the workforce and industrial capacity to support the capability, and ensuring this initiative sets the strongest possible non-proliferation standards.’

Noting that AUKUS was much more than just a capability program for the submarines, Marles said that good progress had been made on advanced capabilities under AUKUS and that he intended to keep that momentum going. The goal was to supplement and strengthen US industry and supply chains, not to compete with them.

‘A good example is Australia’s guided weapons and explosive ordnance enterprise. This project will not only build Australia’s guided weapons stores; it will establish a trusted second source of critical munitions supply to the US. But doing this efficiently and quickly will require the alliance to work across both government and industry. In tandem with other initiatives and other partners—such as our Loyal Wingman program, hypersonics cooperation, and through AUKUS—we have the ability to build a technological coalition that can maintain our competitive edge.’

Marles said that Australia’s inclusion in the US’s national technology and industrial base was a vital first step towards integration but implementing it would require change. He would propose measures both sides could adopt to streamline processes and overcome barriers to procurement, investment, information- and data-sharing systems, and export requirements. Integration could not come at the expense of robust security to protect sensitive information and technology.

In the years ahead, the US and Australia alliance would need to operate in a much more challenging strategic environment in the Indo-Pacific while contributing to a more effective balance of military power aimed at avoiding a catastrophic failure of deterrence, he said. ‘Events in Europe underline the risk we face when one country’s determined military build-up convinced its leader that the potential benefit of conflict was worth the risk.’

In addition to AUKUS, he said, Australia needed to continue the ambitious trajectory of its force posture cooperation, drawing on its strategic geography and industrial base to maximise deterrence and reduce the risk of conflict. That meant engaging in increasingly sophisticated exercises, bilaterally and with regional partners.

‘We will move beyond interoperability to interchangeability. And we will ensure we have all the enablers in place to operate seamlessly together, at speed.’

The US–Australia alliance was formed in the crucible of war, Marles said, but since the ANZUS Treaty was signed in 1951, the alliance had far surpassed its origins. Driven by the two nations’ geopolitical interests and by their profound commitment to democracy, open economies and free and just societies, it had become a cornerstone of Australia’s foreign and security policy.

Marles said he’d always felt that realists had never quite understood that the treaty was less a piece of paper than it was a network of people—politicians, policy officers, intelligence officials and soldiers: ‘Professionals who grow up working together, serve in each other’s institutions, deploy to combat zones, and come to each other’s aid. Professionals whose commitment to each other depend less on a treaty’s text than on a set of shared convictions.’

Australia and the US had to prepare for a tougher strategic environment with a military build-up occurring at a rate unseen since World War II, he said. That included the development and deployment of new weapons that challenged the nation’s military capability edge, the expansion of cyber and grey-zone capabilities that blurred the line between peace and conflict, and the intensification of major-power competition in ways that both concentrate and transcend geographical confines.

Marles said these trends compelled an even greater Australian focus on the Indo-Pacific. ‘For the first time in decades, we are thinking hard about the security of our strategic geography, the viability of our trade and supply routes, and above all the preservation of an inclusive regional order founded on rules agreed by all, not the coercive capabilities of a few. In particular, we worry about the use of force or coercion to advance territorial claims, as is occurring in the South China Sea, and its implications for any number of places in the Indo-Pacific where borders or sovereignty is disputed.’

Australia knew its security and prosperity could not be achieved through a geographical focus alone, Marles said. ‘Geography can’t deliver resilient supply chains or stop cyberattacks, it won’t halt deglobalisation and the worrying reversals of trade and investment liberalisation, and it can’t arrest the dangerous erosion of the global rules-based order,’ he said.

‘For all its imperfections—and the cynicism that often greets this phrase—this order was put in place after the world’s greatest calamity precisely so states would have a mechanism to resolve disputes via dialogue rather than conflict. That’s something that benefits us all, big states and small, and we accept its weakening at our own peril.’

Marles said it was clear that the threat of climate change was a national security issue and the new government would make dealing with it a pillar of the alliance. ‘It’s a threat from which no one and no country is immune. And it is a threat that demands action,’ he said.

‘When you stand on the shores of our Pacific neighbours, as I have, you understand the intense vulnerability felt by those living on small islands. The Pacific Islands Forum, of which Australia is a member, has been consistent in declaring climate change as the single greatest threat to livelihoods in our neighbourhood—it is an existential threat.

‘Given this reality, the Pacific is the part of the world where the US rightly looks to Australia to lead. And we will.’

Australia would not take that role for granted, he said. ‘Pacific island countries have choices about their partners. And we will work to earn their trust. The Pacific has been clear in saying that geopolitical competition is of lesser concern to them than the threat of rising sea levels, economic insecurity and transnational crime. Australia respects and understands this position. And we are listening. And while we will not ask our partners to pick a side, I am confident that an Australia which collaborates and invests in shared priorities with the Pacific is an Australia which will be the natural partner of choice for the Pacific.’

Marles said the global nature of security explained why Australia was standing with Europe at this crucial time. ‘Russia’s war against Ukraine is not just a brutal attempt to subjugate a sovereign state. It’s a calculated application of violence, intended to roll back the post-Soviet order from one founded on sovereignty and self-determination to one governed by the rule of might and force. Where only great powers are truly sovereign and where the choice of smaller states is to be either a vassal or an enemy. This can’t be allowed to succeed. Only by ensuring such tactics fail can we deter their future employment, in Europe, the Indo-Pacific or elsewhere.’

That was why Prime Minister Anthony Albanese visited Kyiv this month to honour the extraordinary valour of the Ukrainian people and to nail Australia’s flag to a European and global order of sovereign states and free peoples, he said. ‘In this I want to commend the leadership of President [Joe] Biden. Once again, the United States is proving the pivotal power.’

Marles said critics of alliances needed to answer why countries like Australia would be better served going it alone. The alliance with the US afforded Australia capability, technology and intelligence advantages it could not acquire or develop on its own, he said.

‘I want to acknowledge the comments of my counterpart, [US Defense] Secretary Lloyd Austin, who has underlined that it’s not just the fact of our alliances that gives us an advantage; it’s our ability to operationalise them in ways that transcend sovereign boundaries that’s truly unique. In a more contested world, those countries that are able to pool their resources and combine their strengths will not only have a competitive advantage; they will be less vulnerable to coercive statecraft.’

Wong leads new era of engagement with Pacific island states

Pacific island countries may halt the use of Australian-donated patrol boats with defects including cracking in the coupling between the engine and the gearbox, and a fault in the vessels’ exhaust system. It’s a blow to the $2.1 billion maritime program that’s the centrepiece of our security assistance to the region. In fairness, all vessels have teething issues. It would be remarkable if there weren’t any problems with the Guardian-class boats.

Despite this setback, we judge that there’s now more grounds for optimism that Australia can at least slow China’s expansion in our near abroad. The new foreign minister, Penny Wong, deserves much of the credit; in just four weeks she has visited Fiji, Tonga, Samoa and Solomon Islands. Australia has recently joined with the US, UK, New Zealand and Japan to create Partners in the Blue Pacific to provide assistance to the small islands and step up coordinated efforts to counter Chinese initiatives.

The previous government largely left engagement with the region to a junior minister. That was a source of irritation, especially in the most powerful regional countries, Papua New Guinea and Fiji. It’s not insignificant that the lion’s share of China’s engagement with the Pacific is undertaken by its foreign minister, Wang Yi.

It’s inevitable that Wong will allocate some of her responsibility for regional engagement to Pacific and International Development Minister Pat Conroy. But it won’t have escaped her notice, or that of the prime minister, that she’s been extremely well received by Pacific island leaders. She’s shown them a level of respect that wasn’t evident in recent years.

The Albanese government is now developing a series of policies that should appeal to our Pacific neighbours; the focus appears to be shifting more to working with the region to shape global discussions on climate change and greater people engagement.

One area that offers opportunities to greatly enhance our people engagement in a way that China can’t hope to match is sport. It’s true that China is active in building sporting infrastructure in the region, most prominently Solomon Islands’ 2023 Pacific Games stadium. But we should be investing more heavily to strengthen existing programs in elite sporting partnerships and community sport in the Pacific.

Another area to develop, largely neglected by the former government, is engaging with the Christian churches in the region. Christian church membership in Australia is in serious decline. But Christianity is flourishing in most island countries, especially the Pentecostal churches. Most of our regional neighbours lack serious capacity in healthcare, school education and vocational training. A number of Australian churches already have a strong presence in these sectors in the region. But with Australian government support they could do much more.

There needs to be a higher priority given to Australian business through support to industry groups such as the Australia–Papua New Guinea Business Council. China has capitalised very effectively on the decline in Australian business activity in the Pacific in some key sectors.

With Australian banks withdrawing or downsizing in the Pacific, Chinese banks and financial institutions are doing the very opposite, including through significant loan support for the island states’ small-business sectors. Many Pacific island countries are successfully growing small business in both urban and rural communities. But they’re going to need greater access to finance and training, and Australia is better placed than China to provide both.

Finally, Australia’s defence investment program will require 20,000 more uniformed personnel to operate the capabilities being acquired. With the Australian Defence Force averaging net annual growth of only 300 people, the ADF has just put out an urgent call to recruit young Australians. We should be inviting Pacific islanders into our military for a three- to four-year period. The concept would be hugely popular in the islands and develop powerful people-to-people links with our military that would last a lifetime.

There’s no greater bonding exper­ience than a recruit course ­followed by active military service. Citizenship might even be offer­ed on completion of service. Having Pacific islanders being part of the delivery of Australian programs to the island states, whether training, aid or disaster relief, will make that engagement much more effective for us all. Military service is a unique offer we can make that China can’t and won’t.

What would a First Nations foreign policy look like?

During her recent trip to Malaysia, Foreign Minister Penny Wong said she wanted Australia’s full diversity to be reflected in the Albanese government’s approach to diplomacy.

Not only does that mean better engaging with our migrant story—a timely statement given the recently released census data revealed more than half of all Australians are first- or second-generation migrants—but also incorporating a First Nations perspective in our approach to international relations.

Speaking in the capital, Kuala Lumpur, Wong echoed her election statements about building on the knowledge and experience of First Nations Australia: ‘The time has come for Australia’s full story to be told: our modern diversity and the rich heritage of First Nations peoples.’

Developing a First Nations foreign policy is arguably the biggest development in Indigenous relations in decades. NAIDOC week is an opportune time to ask—what is a First Nations foreign policy, and how does it differ from Australia’s approach in the past?

Much can be gleaned from the highly detailed Indigenous Diplomacy Agenda, launched by the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade last year.

The Indigenous Diplomacy Agenda is about shaping the international system by understanding how states distribute power to Indigenous groups, how Australia’s diplomatic network can shape the international system to benefit Indigenous peoples economically and politically, and how Indigenous knowledge and ways of relating with others can be incorporated into Australia’s relations with other nations.

On the last point, this could mean ceasing to view international relations in zero-sum terms, instead moving towards concepts of reciprocity, co-development and mutual respect.

The agenda positions Indigenous affairs at the heart of Australia’s foreign policy, but it is important not to romanticise what this means.

Australia has a complicated and brutal postcolonial story and reckoning with this—demonstrating that we are learning, growing and strengthening democratic values—is a point of shared truth with other colonial nations. Forming a shared truth with our neighbours is a way for Australia to build trust, demonstrate shared values and exercise influence.

Shared truth is important when autocratic regimes are seeking to shift the conversation about human rights. Alongside China, Belarus, North Korea and Venezuela have raised Australia’s human rights record in international forums in an effort to muddy the waters of Beijing’s treatment of Uyghurs and other ethnic minorities.

Coupled with a First Nations foreign policy, Labor’s broader commitments to Indigenous affairs—including constitutional recognition and an Indigenous voice to parliament—have implications for national security, economic trade, development and government corporate policy.

In a national security context these commitments say that Australia cannot rely on influence, particularly in the Indo-Pacific, without demonstrating its commitment to Indigenous rights at home and abroad.

In economic relations these commitments say Australia cannot advance its trade agenda without also elevating Indigenous peoples here and elsewhere.

Australia also cannot promote sustainable development unless Indigenous peoples benefit.

It’s important to note that within the Commonwealth public service, these commitments will not move forward without more comprehensive recruitment and retention of Indigenous diplomats.

How Australia creates a joint narrative with its neighbours might help to solidify the basis for joint action on some of our common security threats, particularly climate security across the Pacific and in Southeast Asia.

Australia excels at capacity building in the Indo-Pacific, which will be key to implementing digital-economy and green-technology initiatives outlined in both the US-driven Indo-Pacific Economic Framework and the European Indo-Pacific Strategy.

An early sign of how Indigenous interests can play a role in strengthening regional ties can be seen in the New Zealand-led Indigenous Peoples Economic and Trade Cooperation Arrangement involving Taiwan, Canada and Australia.

This was an effort to build common economic goals between Indigenous groups but also an attempt to draw Taiwan in from diplomatic isolation. All but 15 countries have cut ties with the island and it is barraged daily with cyberattacks and intrusions into its air defence zone. Taiwanese Indigenous communities are the island’s international relations lifeline—they are Taiwan’s sole representatives to the UN.

This agreement shows, in clear-cut terms, the new posture in embryonic form: repositioning Australia’s relations with our Commonwealth partners—Canada and NZ—based on a central connection with Indigenous pasts and forging new economic and political ties with a nation—Taiwan—that shares a common ideal to advance the rules-based order. What will, and should, follow is cementing this posture in our agreement-making with other Pacific partners.