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Policy, Guns and Money: Australia’s strategic challenges, cyber threats and the UK’s Indo-Pacific tilt

To kick off this episode of the ASPI podcast, Alex Bristow speaks to ASPI newcomer Bec Shrimpton, who will head up this year’s Sydney Dialogue. They discuss the strategic threats Australia faces, including the challenges posed by emerging technology, and the Australia–China relationship.

With so much of our data online, and a growing reliance on digital technology in our daily lives, we are left vulnerable to cyberattacks. ASPI’s Karly Winkler speaks to Google’s Shane Huntley about the work of the Google Threat Analysis Group and the current cyber threat landscape.

In the UK’s 2021 integrated review of security, defence, development and foreign policy, the government detailed its vision of Britain’s role in the world over the next two decades, outlining a tilt to the Indo-Pacific. ASPI senior analyst Marcus Hellyer speaks to naval expert Alessio Patalano of King’s College London about the Indo-Pacific tilt, the UK’s naval strategy and defence capability priorities.

The cost of Australia’s defence: hard choices for the new government

In March, shortly before federal election, the Coalition government released a defence budget that continued its record of delivering the funding it promised in the 2016 defence white paper and 2020 defence strategic update.

For 2022–23, the consolidated defence funding line (including both the Department of Defence and the Australian Signals Directorate) is $48.6 billion, which is 2.11% of GDP based on the budget papers’ estimates of GDP. That funding represents a very substantial nominal growth of 7.4% compared with 2021–22. It’s the 10th straight year of real growth, but with inflation running hot, it’s hard to determine a precise percentage. We’ve estimated it at 3.8% based on the budget papers, but if inflation stays around 5%, the real growth figure will be less. That will hurt Defence. Just as inflation eats into Australian families’ budgets, it’s eroding Defence’s buying power.

As I explain in The cost of Defence: ASPI defence budget brief 2022–2023, released today, despite disruptions to supply chains, Defence and its industry partners have achieved significant increases in acquisition spending. While Defence may have fallen short of its acquisition spending target in 2021–22, it still achieved a $2.1 billion increase on the previous year, which was itself a $1.5 billion increase on the prior year. That’s translating into growing local spending, in both absolute and relative terms compared to overseas spending. I’ve written previously that the Australian defence industry will need to eat a very large elephant as Defence’s acquisition and sustainment budgets grow. So far, it’s demonstrating that it has the appetite to do that.

Capability continues to be delivered across all domains. There’s no doubt that the Australian Defence Force is getting better. But we’re seeing the realisation of risks inherent in an acquisition program built around megaprojects. Such projects take years or decades to design and deliver, while spending huge sums for little benefit in the short term. When they encounter problems, those problems are big.

The cancelled Attack-class submarine program has cost more than $4 billion and delivered nothing. The Hunter frigate program continues to experience delays and won’t get a vessel into service for over a decade. The Boxer combat reconnaissance vehicle project has spent close to $2 billion, but only 25 training vehicles have so far been delivered. While the nuclear-powered attack submarine program has the potential to deliver a huge step-up in undersea warfare capability, it’s the mother of all megaprojects and has a risk profile to match.

As the megaprojects ramp up (with more than $20 billion in infantry fighting vehicles potentially added to the list of committed funds), their cashflow requirement will increase, tying the government’s hands at a time of rapidly growing strategic uncertainty and evaporating warning time.

The new government will have some significant issues to address. Perhaps the biggest one is the size of the defence budget. The incoming government has said that it supports the current level of funding. While that continues to grow in real terms, it was originally developed in 2015 and hasn’t changed since then, despite the significant worsening of our strategic circumstances. Russia’s illegal and unjustifiable invasion of Ukraine has reminded us that war has not gone away and remains a tool of authoritarian states. China’s influence in our near region is growing and could result in a permanent Chinese military presence. The US is looking to its allies and partners to do more, as they must.

As always, the government will need to adjudicate between competing priorities for funding. At a time when Australians are dealing with the rising cost of living, spikes in energy prices and the grinding pressure of housing affordability, it may be tempting to reduce defence spending. However, the government should be aware of the results of doing so.

The budget is already full, with no pots of unallocated cash. Any short-term windfall delivered by the cancellation of the Attack-class submarine is already gone—as the cancellation of the SkyGuardian armed uncrewed aerial vehicle to help deliver a $9.9 billion offset for the REDSPICE cyber program reveals. So even holding the defence budget strictly at 2% of GDP will result in substantial, multibillion-dollar reductions to the funding line in the 2020 defence strategic update, inevitably leading to cuts in capability.

It’s not clear that the strategic update’s funding line is even sufficient to deliver the current investment plan. That program includes platforms far larger or more numerous than those they’re replacing as well as entirely new capabilities, all requiring a much larger workforce. Many capabilities have ended up costing more than was originally budgeted for in Defence’s investment plan. The nuclear-powered submarine program will cost significantly more than the Attack class; it’s anybody’s guess how much more. So the first order of business should be for the government to understand the affordability of the current plan.

Then it will need to assure itself that the planned force structure is aligned with what the government thinks the ADF should be doing. It’s easy to make a case for the tactical utility of any capability, but how does it fit into the overall strategy? The government will need to make decisions about which sovereign capabilities it needs to hold and which capabilities it can rely on allies and partners. And the nub of our current security challenge is that the former are growing while the latter are shrinking.

A further challenge that the government will need to consider is Defence’s people problem. The number of contractors in Defence’s external workforce continues to grow at significant cost, but Defence can’t deliver its ambitious capability program without them. Is that growth the best option available to Defence or simply the only one? Moreover, the investment program will require 20,000 more uniformed personnel to operate the capabilities Defence is acquiring. With the ADF averaging net annual growth of only 300 people, is that target attainable? And, if it’s not, is the future force structure viable?

In these testing times, the government needs to seize every opportunity available to it to increase capability rapidly, even if that means overruling Defence’s long-term vision for the future force. That means doing more with what we’re already getting, such as increasing the lethality of the offshore patrol vessels that are soon to enter service.

There are encouraging signs that Defence is engaging more actively with ‘the small, the smart and the many’; that is, cheaper, disposable, highly autonomous systems that can be produced rapidly by Australian industry. Investing more heavily in such systems is a crucial hedging strategy against the risk inherent in the megaprojects; plus, such systems will figure heavily in future warfare, whatever may become of the megaprojects.

Similarly, the new AUKUS partnership’s advanced technologies programs and the sovereign guided weapons enterprise offer the prospect of delivering meaningful capabilities soon. Yet we’re two years into the guided weapons enterprise and still have heard nothing about which weapons will be produced and how it will be done. We can’t apply the kinds of timelines and processes that have been features of the megaprojects to these lines of effort.

Overall, the government has its work cut out for it. Whatever path it chooses, it will need to bring the Australian public along on the journey. To do that, the government will need to reset the conversation about the defence budget and how it’s spent. That will require a commitment to transparency, accountability and sharing information. That means accepting the risk that bad news will get out along with the good, but an informed public is fundamental to democracy.

Albanese’s trip to Jakarta a chance to strengthen Australia–Indonesia ties

By going to Jakarta so early in his prime ministership, Anthony Albanese is practising what he preached during the election campaign about the importance he intends attaching to Indonesia. He’s right to position Indonesia in this way, even if rushing to its capital so soon after his election—something no Indonesian president is ever likely to reciprocate—tends to underscore the asymmetry in the relationship. Only the United States and China matter more to Australia’s future strategic interests.

Albanese starts with several advantages. Indonesian observers have often perceived Labor as understanding Indonesia better than the Coalition, or at least wanting to. As one Indonesian academic in international affairs recently put it: ‘Historically, Labor has had a greater regard for Indonesia’. Many recall the Hawke-Keating era as the high point in the relationship.

Albanese is no stranger to Indonesia, having visited the country both as a minister during the last Labor governments and as opposition leader in 2019. He also met Indonesian President Joko Widodo during Jokowi’s last visit to Canberra in 2020. As a result, the two leaders already know and seemingly respect each other. And few things are as important as exhibiting that respect when it comes to engaging Indonesia.

Another advantage for Albanese is the two leaders’ shared experiences of struggle from humble socio-economic origins to national leadership, journeys that left similar, though not identical, impressions on their personas. Albanese’s personal story and easygoing, unostentatious personality will likely resonate with any average Indonesian curious enough to pay attention to his visit. They will chime with the narrative that helped take Jokowi to the presidential palace.

Another is their shared passion for nation building through infrastructure, and their conviction that access to quality education advances both individuals and nations, as their own lives testify. Both subjects are bound to be high on their meeting’s agenda and the conversation will be easy and enthusiastic. A side-trip to Monash University’s pioneering campus in Indonesia, the only foreign university with such a presence, should be on Albanese’s program if it isn’t already.

Yet another advantage is their shared compassion on some aspects of social policy. Jokowi has declared a special interest in supporting people with disabilities. Albanese can share Australia’s experience with the National Disability Insurance Scheme .

In these areas, the two leaders will have grounds to build on whatever rapport they have already struck. While that’s a necessary condition for the sort of partnership the two nations need, it is far from sufficient, especially for Jokowi. Returning from his first-ever overseas trip as president in November 2014, he stressed that while befriending all countries was fine, he intended paying most attention to those that provided ‘the most benefits to the [Indonesian] people’, adding that he wasn’t interested in those that provided none.

Jokowi’s view of international affairs may have matured somewhat since then, but his transactional character has almost certainly not changed. He will value anything Albanese can offer Indonesia by way of practical support for its development priorities. The more Australia can work with like-minded partners such as the US and Japan to improve the quality and governance of Indonesia’s infrastructure development, and the more that Australia’s modestly beefed-up aid for Southeast Asia can help Indonesia address such pressing issues as food security and pandemic and climate change resilience, the more resonant Albanese’s message to Indonesia’s leadership will be.

One initiative Albanese might consider proposing is a joint research program like that which Australia already has with India, perhaps with a heavier focus on such fields as agriculture, biomedical technologies, clean energy, food and water security, and marine science. This would appeal to Jokowi, whose recent efforts to woo Tesla and SpaceX chief Elon Musk to Indonesia highlight his interest in fostering scientific cooperation and ambitions for his nation’s technological advancement.

Other economic and trade subjects will be fundamental to the visit. Global economic uncertainties and problems, and their impacts on both economies, necessitate this. And subject to the risks climate change and other factors pose to its growth trajectory, Indonesia’s rise to becoming an economic powerhouse has never been lost on Australian governments of both persuasions. The Indonesia–Australia Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement reflects the aspirations for closer commercial ties that both countries have identified as a result. But IA-CEPA remains largely aspirational, principally because of the limited complementarities of the nations’ economies and Indonesia’s often unattractive investment environment. Giving too much prominence to this aspect of the relationship risks raising expectations that aren’t likely to be met soon.

For all they have in common, the two leaders diverge in important ways. Jokowi is no social democrat on economic policy. He is Indonesia’s first president from a business background, and it shows. The more his presidency has progressed, the more his agenda has aligned with the interests of business and the less with those of the common folk who voted for him. Inequality has risen markedly. Plutocrats, including in Jokowi’s cabinet, have flourished. The central plank in his economic reforms, the jobs creation law, sparked major and sustained protests from unions, environmental groups and other civil society organisations over the many provisions privileging business interests over those of labour and the environment.

Nor is Jokowi a liberal democrat. During his tenure, democratic norms and practices have regressed. Liberal values, never dominant in socially conservative Indonesian society, have waned. Critics have claimed, with some reason, that his singular focus on economic development has often come at the expense of human rights and good governance. Indonesia’s national anti-corruption body has been neutered. Minorities, notably the LGBTQ community, are coming under growing pressure from conservative religious bodies and could face worse persecution under flagged new laws. Jokowi has done little if anything to counter these developments, some of which his own vice president and ministers have pushed.

Papua threatens to become an exemplar of Jokowi’s governance shortcomings and tendency to see development as a panacea for longstanding indigenous grievance. Unrest is rising. His administration’s unpopular plans to subdivide the region into additional provinces look set only to worsen matters. Nothing in the relationship poses more risks of distrust and bilateral disharmony than how Jakarta handles this restive territory and how sections of the Australian community, including within the parliament, respond to its actions.

In these areas of Jokowi’s administration, it is hard to imagine trends less in sync with what the Albanese government promises for Australians, or less likely to appeal to a parliament set for a likely 12 Greens senators and four Greens members of the House of Representatives.

Already some Indonesian observers are expecting a Labor government to put a greater onus on human rights and social issues in discussions with Indonesia than a Coalition government would. Albanese would be on sure ground in affirming his government’s determination to support international human rights instruments (to which Indonesia itself is a signatory), especially in any discussion about the rise of authoritarianism around the world. On Papua specifically, Jokowi will expect the usual reiteration of Australia’s support for Indonesia’s sovereignty, and he’ll get it. Albanese will need to tread carefully beyond this if his message is to get traction, but he could stress that Australia shares Indonesia’s interest in the region being prosperous, peaceful and governed in accordance with the principles of its special autonomy.

Albanese will no doubt arrive well briefed on the fundamental differences between Indonesia and Australia on international affairs, including tensions in the Indo-Pacific arising from China’s increasing assertiveness. Jakarta is not blind to China’s threat. It’s seen it firsthand in its northern waters. Its concerns about Canberra’s position partly reflect the gap between Australia’s focus on military deterrence as a key element in countering China’s ambitions and Indonesia’s prioritising of dialogue and cooperation to this end. Albanese’s participation in the Quad meeting and remarks on China will have confirmed Jakarta’s view that Australia remains set on a different course to its own. No amount of rapport among leaders will alter this reality.

This year’s G20 leaders’ summit in Bali risks bringing differences on Ukraine to a head. For doctrinal and pragmatic reasons, Jakarta refuses to hold Vladimir Putin culpable for a war whose economic impacts have reached Indonesia. Determined to use the event to showcase Indonesia, Jokowi will insist on Albanese’s attendance regardless of Putin’s presence and his offences against international law that Indonesia claims to hold dear. Much could happen in the interim to engineer an acceptable compromise that would see the summit proceed, however effectively, with its full membership. Albanese’s default position should be to commit Australia’s support for finding and supporting that compromise, in conjunction with like-minded partners such as Japan.

AUKUS, specifically Australia’s plans to acquire nuclear-propelled submarines, will not have faded from Indonesian minds simply with the election of a different Australian government. For some Indonesians, the AUKUS launch revived memories of the Howard-era ‘deputy sheriff’ tag and evoked the image of a conservative Australia desperately clinging to the Anglosphere and turning its back on its region. Jakarta’s official line depicted AUKUS as a catalyst for a regional arms race, a narrative Beijing was also quick to promote.

The salient issue here is the impact of the submarines on the nuclear non-proliferation regime should their power source be weapons-grade uranium. It would be tin-eared to dismiss Indonesia’s concerns out of hand, however hyperbolic its rhetoric on this has been. Albanese can respond that Australia and the US and UK have committed to an approach to the submarines that strengthens non-proliferation benchmarks and prevents diversion of highly enriched uranium for any other purpose. He could also reassure Jokowi that Australia is in discussions with the International Atomic Energy Agency to find a safeguards solution and might propose ongoing consultation to assuage Indonesia’s concerns. This would underscore a shared commitment to non-proliferation.

Albanese’s domestic agenda on gender, indigenous affairs and a strong anti-corruption watchdog will strike an attractive chord to any younger, liberal Indonesians paying attention to developments in Australia. His trip might serve as a prologue for further efforts his government could make on public diplomacy and towards enhancing Australia’s ‘soft power’ in Indonesia.

Albanese’s visit therefore offers scope for recapturing Indonesian attention invariably drawn northwards because of the economic heft of China, Japan and Korea, and the diplomatic and security imperatives linked to both ASEAN and China’s behaviour in the South China Sea. But building the sort of relationship fit for our nations’ shared strategic purposes will require sustained engagement and mutually supportive cooperation across many areas, notwithstanding our inevitable differences. By presenting himself as the personable, trustworthy leader of a significant regional power intent on always treating Indonesia as a valued partner in its own right, Albanese can reaffirm the more positive Indonesian perceptions of its southern neighbour.

The Quad and AUKUS strengthen Australia’s hand in a contested Indo-Pacific

With Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s attendance at the Quad summit in Tokyo hot on the heels of an in-flight phone conversation with UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson regarding AUKUS, it appears that small-group configurations—‘minilaterals’—have acquired a central place in Australia’s approach to regional security. The new PM’s race to the Quad leaders’ summit only hours after his election victory demonstrates the paramount importance he, like his predecessor Scott Morrison, attaches to such cooperative mechanisms.

The terms ‘Quad’ and ‘AUKUS’ are now highly familiar to any follower of international affairs.

Defining ‘minilaterals’ defies a single or simple answer. To reduce them to their essence: they are small-group (typically 3-6 members) configurations that bring together ‘like-minded’ partners in alignment to work on practical solutions to shared policy challenges.

Exclusive minilateral groups typically unite around a common purpose that brings their members into alignment. This distinguishes them from much larger pan-regional multilateral forums aimed at simply bringing states into dialogue (such as the East Asian Summit or ASEAN Regional Forum). The latter are more inclusive, but encompass too many states to form easy consensus, and often contain antagonistic parties.

Minilaterals may be functionally specific, designed to focus on one issue area such as economics or security, or may adopt a more multi-faceted and comprehensive common agenda.

Even security-orientated minilaterals are no longer confined to ‘traditional’ security issues but increasingly focus on ‘security’ writ large to facilitate collaboration on economic, environmental and health (pandemic) and other non-traditional security challenges.

As relatively informal institutions, they are aimed at retaining flexibility and adaptability, and generally lack a developed organisational apparatus and/or infrastructure. Nor are they bound by mutual defence treaties, as found in military alliances.

Minilaterals are set apart from larger multilateral security institutions like ASEAN-plus but exist in a state of dynamic tension with them. For example, the Quad pays due deference to ASEAN ‘centrality’ in is official statements, including linkage with the ASEAN outlook on the Indo-Pacific, while—so far—AUKUS has not referenced ASEAN, and is viewed with scepticism by the Southeast Asian grouping.

Minilaterals are open-ended groupings in that they are potentially amenable to deepening or widening the field of cooperation or expanding their membership—provided the candidate state shares the core mission and values of the minilateral. Ill-considered admission of new members, or too many new members, would undermine these, effectively transforming them into multilaterals.

There are, of course, caveats to this general formula, and every minilateral will be unique. For example, the former six-party talks (2003-2009) did bring together the US, Japan and South Korea with North Korea, China and Russia for the (nominally) common purpose of denuclearising the peninsula, but the divergent interests of the assembled parties were ultimately irreconcilable, finally leading to North Korea’s withdrawal.

Australia’s deep investment in minilateral formations is relatively easy to account for. The country’s formidable array of defence networks includes its pivotal alliance with the US and its special strategic partnership with Japan, and extends to trilateral and quadrilateral cooperation, and beyond. As a geostrategically located ‘middle power’ Australia is deeply affected by the swirling currents of competition in the Indo-Pacific but lacks the indigenous resource base and capabilities to provide for its security independently. Allies, partners and minilateral alignments are therefore a strategic necessity to safeguard Australian national interests (often in tandem with its values). Several minilaterals such as the Quad, AUKUS and others are also ‘networked’ into the US ‘hub-and spokes’ alliance system in the Indo-Pacific; the greater edifice upon which Australia depends to ensure its national security and uphold the regional rules-based order.

Despite being overshadowed by the larger powers of the US, Japan, India and the UK, Australia’s contributions to the Quad and AUKUS are viewed positively by its partners. It brings assets such as its geostrategic location (training grounds and facilities, especially in the Northern Territory), diplomatic influence (especially in the increasingly crucial South Pacific), a small but capable military, (with ambitious plans for modernisation) and a ‘can-do’ attitude. In return it intensifies its interaction with these major powers, gains access to advanced defence technologies and acquires a more influential voice in shaping the regional security environment. This becomes a ‘virtuous circle’ as the major powers assist Australia develop its engagement and capabilities, the country’s appeal as a valued partner increases commensurately.

Though the Quad and AUKUS have dominated discussion of Australia’s minilateral activities, the practise of minilateralism to supplement (and reinforce) the US alliance and the broader ASEAN-led regional architecture did not begin or end with these two examples. Several other minilateral configurations remain important to Australian strategic policy.

In particular, the Trilateral Strategic Dialogue (TSD) process with the US and Japan, initiated in 2001, holds high potential and is overdue for a renewal, having last met in 2019. The TSD unites Australia and Japan as the two most proactive of America’s allies—and ‘special strategic partners’—into a closely knit and potentially highly effective mechanism, especially when it comes to addressing more traditional military threats. With shared adhesion to Washington’s’ Indo-Pacific strategy, the military forces of the three powers are complementary and interoperable, and, unlike the Quad, are less subject to equivocations over strategic signalling, as witnessed recently though India’s divergent response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

Likewise, the 1971 Five Power Defence Arrangements involving Australia, the UK, New Zealand, Malaysia and Singapore, is an often overlooked relationship, yet it remains an important facilitator of defence cooperation in peninsular Southeast Asia, creating synergies with AUKUS and Britain’s Indo-Pacific ‘tilt’ policy.

The list goes on. One could mention the Australia–India–Japan trilateral, but this would seem of relatively less utility than the Quad itself, or the Australia–India–France trilateral, again of lesser import and utility, and recently tainted by the diplomatic travails between Canberra and Paris over AUKUS. Not all minilaterals acquire the profile and relevance of the Quad or AUKUS.

Of course, the diplomatic landscape is littered with defunct or otherwise moribund minilaterals such as the six-party talks, the Korean Peninsula Energy Development Organization, the Trilateral Cooperation and Oversight Group and the Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat. Each and any minilateral is subject to dissolution, but certain configurations appear to be going from strength to strength with both political endorsement and strategic analyses taking optimistic views on the Quad and AUKUS.

There is good reason for Canberra to support greater integration within its most prominent minilateral mechanisms as they provide valuable intersections with—or alternatives to—both the US alliance and the multilateral regional architecture. In this respect they add another powerful instrument to Canberra’s diplomatic and strategic toolkit as Australia faces unprecedented challenges to its national security.

Australia’s voice and the China duel in the South Pacific

Australia and the South Pacific need to talk.

The immediate conversation is about the duelling trips to the islands by China’s foreign minister, Wang Yi, and Australia’s new foreign minister, Penny Wong.

Starting with Fiji, Wong has pledged a series of island visits to recover Australia’s status as the partner of choice in the Pacific.

Wong has a strong hand. Australia would have to play this hand incredibly badly to lose its primary role.

What we share with the islands is a potent combination of interests, institutions and values, framed by geography. Yet Australia and China have moved beyond en garde. The diplomatic duel is launched. The foreign ministers probe, parry and promise. China thrusts with strategic intent.

In the quest to recover stuff we’ve mislaid or undervalued, Australia’s polity slowly awakes to the need to remake and rebuild our media voice in the South Pacific.

We haven’t ‘lost’ the islands, but in the past decade we did lose much of our broadcasting voice. The China duel didn’t cause the voice fade. We lost a lot of ground because we just vacated the ground, by the absent-minded trashing of Australia’s international broadcasting.

Australia degraded a key foreign policy instrument, comfortable in our South Pacific pre-eminence. The trouble with having such a strong hand in the islands is taking too much for granted—what Canberra wise owl Nick Warner laments as ‘Australia’s long Pacific stupor’. The budget of our Indo-Pacific media voice has been cut by two-thirds.

Domestic politics has damaged what the Australian Broadcasting Corporation should deliver internationally for Australia. ‘All Governments Loathe the ABC Equally, but Some Loathe It More Equally than Others,’ Mathew Ricketson and Patrick Mullins state (their capitalisation) in Who needs the ABC?

Of course, governments loathe the ABC. So they should. Aunty is a unique and powerful voice, defined by its independence. The reality the polity gropes towards is to peer beyond the domestic fights to see the foreign policy needs wonderfully served by the ABC, to understand hard news and free media as the sharp edge of Australia’s soft power.

The new Labor government is starting the job with its Indo-Pacific broadcasting strategy, promising the ABC an extra $8 million a year for international programs, plus a review of whether shortwave radio broadcasts should be restored.

The need to cast aside the domestic argy-bargy about Aunty, to empower our international voice, is the underlying consensus of Strengthening Australia’s relationships in the Pacific, the report by the Joint Standing Committee on Foreign Affairs, Defence and Trade, presented in the final days of the previous parliament.

The bipartisan report calls for an expansion of our ‘media and broadcasting footprint’ in a more contested South Pacific to ‘retain our role as a trusted and accessible source of information for these countries’, and for the consideration of:

  • expanding Australian public and commercial television and digital content across the Pacific;
  • reinvigorating Radio Australia;
  • creating an Australian International Media Corporation to formulate and oversee the strategic direction of Australia’s international media presence in the Pacific.

The AIMC was suggested in my submission to the inquiry. The aim is to resolve the domestic–international tensions at the heart of the ABC’s charter, by setting up a separate corporation under the ABC’s act. The AIMC would be a foreign policy instrument with its own identity, not subject to the domestic fuss and furies that must ever be the ABC’s lot.

In creating a purpose-built international voice for the digital age, draw three principles from the strange up-and-down experiences (mostly down) of Radio Australia and the myriad versions of ABC international TV. A 25-year span starts with the 1997 Mansfield report which recommended the closure of Radio Australia because ‘the requirement for the ABC to broadcast programs to audiences outside Australia should cease’.  Canberra knocked back Mansfield’s idea. But, equally as significant, the polity has yet to come up with a definitive view of what international media should do for Australia’s foreign policy (a huge gap in the soft power discussion in the 2017 foreign policy white paper). The three principles are:

1. Value independence. The things governments loathe about the ABC make it a strong and valuable foreign policy instrument. An AIMC must have exactly the same strength.

Independent public service broadcasters have far more credibility than state broadcasters which serve only as the mouthpiece and megaphone of a government. Trust built by honest information and strong journalism is part of the secret sauce of democracy; it’s called ‘soft power’ but the key word is ‘power’.

In dealing with other governments, smart Australian politicians and diplomats always value the ‘deniability’ of the ABC, offering an angry foreign leader a version of, ‘Yes, Mr/Madam president, we hate it too, but it’s independent of government. That’s the Australian way.’

2. Step beyond the domestic wars. The sorry saga of the last 25 years is how often our international voice has been harmed by those wanting to attack Aunty for domestic reasons.

The ABC’s charter calls for it to do both domestic and international duty. The proper domestic priority means the international need is starved or ignored. Resolve the tension between the two demands. The AIMC must embody Aunty’s values as it gives total attention to meeting the international requirements of the ABC charter.  

3. Create a foreign policy instrument. Don’t expect the ABC to deliver Australia’s foreign policy on the cheap.

Nobody wants to pay for good foreign policy, but everybody pays for bad foreign policy. Australia must fund an international instrument for international purposes, to serve our interests, influence and values. Give the AIMC its own line of funding, its own board and its own identity. Grow Radio Australia and the international television service, ABC Australia

In Australia’s duel with China, we need to speak loudly and clearly.

It’s time for new thinking in what we say and how we say it, in the vital conversations to come with the South Pacific.

China’s Pacific plan jeopardises regional privacy and sovereignty

China is seeking a security, policing and communications cooperation deal with 10 Pacific island countries, according to documents seen by Reuters. Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi’s whirlwind tour of the Pacific beginning today in Solomon Islands will reach its peak at a 30 May foreign ministers’ meeting in Fiji.

China has pushed a draft communique to the 10 Pacific island countries involved in advance of the meeting. Almost immediately, Federated States of Micronesia President David Panuelo expressed concern about the Chinese Communist Party’s intent.

This pushback is vital for regional stability and the cynicism over China’s intent or motivation is key—why is China doing this and why now? As ASPI’s Executive Director, Justin Bassi recently wrote, China’s ‘end game is to push out US and allied interests, achieve regional hegemony, create vassal states, control access to supply chains and improve its ability to take Taiwan with minimal costs’.

Panuelo also recently wrote to Solomon Islands Prime Minister Manasseh Sogavare urging him to reconsider the potential regional security impacts of a Chinese military presence in Solomon Islands. Panuelo fears this new, broader agreement could increase tensions and spark a new Cold War between China and the West.

According to Reuters, Panuelo pointed out that this was a ‘pre-determined joint communique’. The CCP would like all Pacific island countries to blindly follow the script, but Panuelo is unlikely to be the only Pacific leader to have issues with the agreement.

The challenge for Australia and the region is that we are competing with China’s ‘predatory mercantilism’ which undermines the international rules-based system and directly threatens our interests. Australia, the US, New Zealand and others should back in the Pacific islands, which means pouring sunlight on China’s actions and intent. The draft regional agreement and Wang’s visit are clearly part of a scaled-up effort towards Chinese regional hegemony and influence in critical economic and security sectors.

Some Pacific countries have existing bilateral policing relationships with China, with Fiji’s being the most developed, but a regional agreement such as this would likely aim to take engagement to new heights.

The draft communique reportedly pledges cooperation on data networks, cybersecurity and smart customs systems. This would provide the CCP with opportunities to collect biodata and conduct mass surveillance. Some of this may be used for policing, but it will also serve other purposes for the CCP. Increased transparency, including leaks, of China’s human rights abuses of religious minorities in Xinjiang and the harsh crackdowns of entire cities during the Covid-19 pandemic should be a deep concern to all in our region.

In the lead up to the APEC leaders’ summit in Port Moresby in 2018, Papua New Guinea accepted about 200 gifted surveillance cameras and a Chinese EXIM bank loan for a Huawei-built data centre. Although proving too costly to maintain, this data centre was later revealed to be highly vulnerable to remote access and the information it collected would have been readily accessible by the CCP.

China’s proposed action plan also reportedly includes the provision of forensic laboratories. China has previously gifted digital forensic labs across Southeast Asia, including to Vietnam. ASPI’s Mapping China’s Tech Giants project shows that these labs were developed in cooperation with Meiya Pico—a CCP-affiliated digital forensics and information-security company that has been linked to the surveillance software MFSocket scandal.

The CCP could use some of this surveillance data for other malign purposes that do not serve the interests of Pacific island countries. The risks that mass surveillance and monitoring technologies can pose to developing countries have already been highlighted in numerous cases across Africa.

China’s extraditions in Fiji in 2017 and Vanuatu in 2019 should also serve as a reminder that Pacific sovereignty isn’t one of Beijing’s concerns when tackling crime abroad. Both events raised concerns over China’s policing and extradition practices and questioned Fiji’s and Vanuatu’s abilities to uphold the law in their own countries.

Preventing the opportunity for surveillance activities like those identified above is part of the reason Australia has already invested enormous amounts of money into outbidding China and blocking its access to critical digital infrastructure in the region.

Mass surveillance is against Australia’s values and interests, at home and abroad. Australia’s new Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has made it clear that ‘Australia should always stand up for [its] values’.

These agreements and the potential for a Chinese military presence are not just against Australia’s interests but the entire Pacific’s, so more leaders need to make their voices heard. They also need to know they will have Australia’s ongoing support to meet their development, security and training needs.

Australia’s new government couldn’t be clearer with its intentions to listen to the Pacific and build even further on the already significant Pacific step-up investment.

Foreign Minister Penny Wong said on her first day in her new role that Australia wants to ‘help build a stronger Pacific family’ and ‘bring new energy and more resources to the Pacific’.

This includes plans to establish a new Australia Pacific defence school that will increase training programs for select Pacific countries’ defence and security forces.

Focusing on our Pacific relationships first and foremost is essential through practical support and investment in critical sectors that will drive development and security. But more money is not the silver bullet. To outcompete China without using its tactics of bribery, bullying and breaching of sovereignty, Australia needs to push back, and hard, against actions that are not in our interest and support the Pacific voices that share our concerns. This requires resources backed in by influence and power in the region, ensuring transparency of malign behaviour and a mobilisation of like-minded partnerships and alliances.

Australia’s reset with China has already happened

The Albanese government is barely one day old and already China’s Premier Li Keqiang is calling for Labor to make ‘the right choice’ to overcome strained bilateral relations and commentators are asking whether Australia can engineer a ‘reset’. This is the wrong question.

The better question is how the new government can constructively manage the tension that inevitably arises from setting boundaries and defending Australia’s values and interests. This is why it was so vital that Anthony Albanese made clear that the relationship ‘will remain a difficult one’ as he attended the Quad leaders’ meeting in Tokyo, just one day after being sworn in as prime minister. ‘It is China that has changed, not Australia, and Australia should always stand up for our values, and we will do so in a government that I lead,’ he said.

It’s almost exactly five years since Australia initiated its strategic realignment with China.

In June 2017, Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull told the Shangri-La Dialogue that preserving the rules that had ensured Australian and regional stability ‘means competing within the framework of international law not winning through corruption, interference or coercion’. He said ‘we need to make the choices that are necessary not only to keep the peace but also preserve the freedom to be ourselves’. This was the real ‘reset’ – an initiative to build long-term national resilience by resetting the terms of engagement with our biggest trading partner.

Six months later, the Turnbull government introduced the Western world’s first counter-foreign-interference legislation, with bipartisan support. In August 2018 Australia banned Chinese telecommunications company Huawei from participating in Australia’s 5G network. In September 2019, the Quad met at the foreign ministers’ level and was elevated to leaders’ level in early 2021. In September 2021, Australia established the trilateral AUKUS security partnership with the US and UK. In December, Australia joined the Global Magnitsky movement.

None of these strategic decisions were forced upon Australia by crisis events. All of them were opposed by commentators and interest groups at the time. But they were advanced—with bipartisan support—because they were in the long-term national interest.

The policies, laws and global networks that were rolled out over the past five years have given Australia solid foundations for the geostrategic competition which is now playing out openly all around us.

Along the way, Australia, and our allies, have had missteps and setbacks—from the Northern Territory government’s lease of Darwin Port to the US withdrawal from the Trans-Pacific Partnership and the UK choosing Huawei to help build its 5G network.

Like most of our democratic partners, we have at times combined complacency with defeatism, both resulting in inaction. There is a streak in the Australian foreign policy community that consistently argues that there is no threat and, if there is, there is nothing we can do about it.

The foreign policy establishment’s elevation of engagement as an end in itself resulted in a ‘soft power’ with a lack of stomach for tensions in international relations and a lack of stamina when things go wrong. The impulse of inaction runs deep. This is why—until recently—China had grown to treat Australia as its intelligence playground, with ASIO Director-General Mike Burgess confirming this year that ‘espionage and foreign interference has supplanted terrorism as our principal security concern’.

The China–Solomon Islands security agreement is the latest striking manifestation of inaction over decades. It is a symptom of China’s elite capture. The end game is to push out US and allied interests, achieve regional hegemony, create vassal states, control access to supply chains and improve its ability to take Taiwan with minimal costs.

However, the Solomons pact does not mark the end of Australia’s influence in the Pacific. To the contrary, it is another opportunity for Australia to galvanise and build on the advances of the last five years.

The good news is that Australia and our partners have consistently placed long-term interests above the short-term seduction of money and inaction (even if it has sometimes taken a while). The strategic stumbles referred to above led directly to stronger foreign investment laws, the resurrection of the TPP and the reversal of the UK’s 5G decision.

Five years of strategic bipartisanship from Albanese, Foreign Minister Penny Wong and former opposition leader Bill Shorten means we are well placed to counter current and emerging threats and respond to inevitable setbacks along the way.

And history teaches us that strategic decision-making requires us to speak up and act when we can—not only when we are forced to.

US President Woodrow Wilson did not help his country or the world by waiting three years before coming to the realisation in April 1917 that ‘neutrality is no longer feasible or desirable’.

Neutrality serves the authoritarian. The imperative of preventing war in the Indo-Pacific requires that we continue our ‘reset’ away from the default of inaction—a learned helplessness driven by complacency and a fear of upsetting China—to a doctrine of actively embracing competition and contestation.

A new Labor government, and the Liberals face an identity crisis

Australia has a new government and the climate war draws to a close.

The voters have delivered a realignment of politics as well as power.

Labor has crept back into office with a historically low primary vote. Only one third of electors made the party their first choice.

The ALP is triumphant but this is more tough win than triumph. Still, a ‘win is a win’, a pragmatic phrase for a close election that’s changed much.

Anthony Albanese is Australia’s 31st prime minister. He joins Gough Whitlam (1972), Bob Hawke (1983), and Kevin Rudd (2007), to become the fourth Labor leader to take the party from opposition to government since World War II.

After nine years in office, the Liberal Party is pushed into purgatory, losing House of Representatives seats to Labor, the Greens and independents.

Electorally, the heart has been ripped from the Libs; they’ve lost a swathe of heartland suburban seats that have defined the party. They’ve toppled from their base, symbolised by the loss of Kooyong by the deputy leader, Treasurer Josh Frydenberg. Kooyong isn’t just heartland, it’s the heart—the seat held by Robert Menzies, the founder of the Liberal Party. The  identity crisis arrives as a heart attack.

The colour imagery of the ‘teal’ independents gets it exactly—the teals merge the Liberal blue with the climate imperatives of the Greens. Thus, the teals attacked from the Liberal centre in those heartland seats as the base rose up.

In claiming victory, Albanese declared, ‘Together we can end the climate wars.’ Victory for the teals, as much as for Labor, defines the result of the war.

The Liberal history of denialism crashed into an electorate that’s decided the science is settled. The ABC’s Election Compass found climate change was the top election issue nominated by 25% of respondents.

Prime Minister Scott Morrison strained mightily to drag the Libs closer to the science side of the fight, but he becomes another political casualty of climate. On the roll of those who fell on the front line, Morrison joins Malcolm Turnbull, Tony Abbott, Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd—five prime ministers whose careers were deeply wounded and then truncated by the conflict.

The five prime ministerial casualties reflect the intensity of the climate war that has run for 15 years. Following a decade of skirmishing, date the start of major hostilities from 2007, when John Howard lost office. Howard took some wounds in the climate debate, but it wasn’t the defining issue in the defeat of his government.

Indeed, if we’d implemented the 2007 climate policies of either John Howard or Kevin Rudd (and they had much in common) we’d be much further down the road to where Australia needs to be. The climate war has sent us wandering through no-man’s land for 15 years, and the teal women have declared that we’re finished with that no-man’s stuff.

Today’s identity crisis for the Liberal Party shows how international issues have shaped and remade Australian political parties during our 120 years of federation.

Labor split three times during the 20th century—in World War I, the Great Depression, and over the challenge of communism (in Bob Carr’s vivid phrase, ‘Labor blew its brains out’). Nothing so dramatic for the conservative temperament. Instead, the anti-Labor parties spent the first half of the 20th century fusing and rebranding themselves under half a dozen party banners.

The Menzies genius—calling politics ‘both a fine art and an inexact science’—was to create a Liberal brand that’s endured for 75 years and constantly delivered power. Now the Libs must refashion their identity to save the brand.

Savour the brutal efficiency of an Australian election. Counting started as the polls closed at 6pm on Saturday. Just after 10pm, Morrison rang Albanese to concede defeat. By 10.50pm, Morrison was speaking to Australia, announcing he’d step down as Liberal leader. Fifteen minutes before midnight, to chants of ‘Albo’, the man who will serve as the 31st  prime minister fronted the cameras.

The electoral efficiency is delivered by the sturdy structures of Australian democracy—the political and policy agreements of a successful country that has much that it can agree on. That truth was reflected in the Labor–Liberal consensus in defence and foreign policy and the shared refusal to surrender to China’s trade coercion.

Almost as soon as Albanese is sworn in as prime minister today, he’ll board the plane for the Quad summit in Japan. That’s continuity in action. The Quad message to Beijing from Albanese is that China has to do the reset: we can talk after you take your hands off our throat.

Labor has embraced the AUKUS agreement Morrison created with the UK and US. AUKUS is Morrison’s defence legacy. If the nuclear submarines surface, then AUKUS becomes his monument in the same way Menzies holds ANZUS.

History should give Morrison a better score than Turnbull and Abbott in judging nine years of Liberal government. Abbott took the Libs back to office, but the party cut him down as unsuitable after only two years. Turnbull bears the scars of a leader deposed twice by his colleagues, both in government and in opposition.

Morrison confronted Covid-19, climate change and China and the new era of strategic competition.

On climate, he dragged the Libs to the point where he was talking about ‘decarbonisation’ as a positive rather than a negative, stepping beyond his performance as treasurer, when Morrison brandished a lump of coal in parliament. His achievement as prime minister was to disarm the Liberal denialism on net-zero emissions. As political performance inside the party, ScoMo nailed a political pirouette, doing bomb disposal while zooming down the mountain on one ski.

The new parliament will define the terms of the settlement in the climate war, delivering benefits that will be both domestic and international.

Join that thought about Australia’s national need and international standing to Albanese’s pledge to hold a referendum to write our First Nations peoples into the constitution, to honour ‘the oldest living continuous culture in the world’.

Change the government, change the country.

Policy, Guns and Money: Quad leaders’ summit preview

With the leaders of the Quad set to meet in Tokyo on Tuesday, this episode focuses on the security and foreign policies of Australia’s Quad partners, India and Japan.

ASPI Executive Director Justin Bassi speaks to India expert Tanvi Madan about India’s perspectives on issues including the China–Russia partnership and regional security challenges in South Asia. They examine opportunities for the Quad to ensure stability and security in the region.

Shifting focus to Japan, ASPI’s Malcolm Davis speaks to Stephen Nagy of the International Christian University in Tokyo about Japan’s foreign and security policies. They focus on its relationship with China, the importance of multilateralism and the potential for increased technology cooperation.

Making Australia fit for AUKUS

The early days in any great undertaking can be chaotic. The AUKUS partnership between Australia, the United Kingdom and the United States was announced last September, and it may be a little premature to worry about progress after only a matter of months.

Yet, while AUKUS rests on a bedrock of past practice and cooperative behaviour, there are worrying signs that all is not progressing swimmingly. And when there are indicators of deeper issues, it’s better to intervene earlier rather than later.

Let’s look at the ambitions behind AUKUS: deepening defence ties with a focus on technology for joint operations and capability, including the development of nuclear-powered submarines for Australia, all to support the rules-based order and shared ideals.

There remains very much a sense that the US sees AUKUS as a way to provide Australia with a much-needed capability uplift, no less than to ensure the UK remains engaged in the world post-Brexit. There’s a lot of white space in the AUKUS statement—white space that officials are now working busily to fill.

In the defence and intelligence community, understandably, the focus is on what they know. And to be fair, the links between Australia and the US—and, more broadly, among the members of the Five Eyes intelligence-sharing group—are deeper than ever.

But statecraft and strategic capability are about much more than defence and intelligence. And when deep in the well, it’s hard for that narrow community to see what’s at the periphery, let alone what’s needed further afield. That’s especially true given the assumptions implicit about national capacity.

So, what are the indicators that things are tracking poorly with AUKUS?

First, and most recently, there’s the security agreement that Solomon Islands signed with China, which has raised alarm bells in Australia, the US and elsewhere. For decades, Washington, with Canberra’s encouragement, has regarded the South Pacific as Australia’s responsibility to manage.

That doesn’t mean hectoring Pacific island nations. It means providing smart, sensitive stewardship for regional stability; supporting the island nations and their concerns and aspirations; and making the arguments for and showing the benefits of free, open, liberal democracies as the best future for regional nations.

That the US found it necessary not simply to send, at short notice, Kurt Campbell, its point man on the Indo-Pacific, but to fast-track the re-establishment of its Solomons embassy reflects strong concerns that Australia has fallen short.

Last year, there was the naval procurement ‘dumpster fire’ sparked by Australia’s cancellation of its contract with French company Naval Group to build 12 conventional submarines. It wasn’t simply that the French submarine option was a concern; it was the switch to the nuclear option and relations with the French that were handled poorly.

Both these issues reflect a loss of capability and capacity in Australia’s foreign service, as well as a lack of respect and trust in the foreign service by Australian ministers. Australia’s foreign representation has been eroded for decades, leaving coverage of its own ‘backyard’ thin and ill-equipped to report on, let alone respond to, a much better funded, well-resourced Chinese posture.

And Australian defence capability and procurement processes are similarly dated, risking the need to prepare for a future that is ever foreshortened and an environment that is increasingly disrupted.

It’s not simply that ministers are frustrated; ministerial frustration is both a symptom of and a contributing factor to the growing incoherence of the process.

Rather, it reflects an inability on the part of the Australian government to build national capacity and depth. Technology, whether in the form of military capability or digital systems, is still seen as magic fairy dust. And there is mistaking expenditure for investment, without governance or stewardship—generally a result of political entitlement and a corrupted process.

As the ‘southern anchor’ of a Western alliance structure, Australia risks losing gravitas and strength. That’s to the detriment of all—not least our democracy and the future of every citizen in our nation.

For all that these indicators raise issues for AUKUS, it remains key to reversing an increasingly parlous situation for Australia and for the West. It is not too late for AUKUS to realise its ambition. But it needs better purchase and stronger foundations on the broad elements of statecraft.

That means, first and foremost, a truly bipartisan approach to uplifting national capability. It is too important to be used for partisan populist politics—an admittedly tough call during an election campaign, but that’s exactly when restraint is needed.

Second, civilian capability needs to be considerably uplifted across the board, including in central agencies. It cannot be subordinated to defence.

DFAT needs not simply rebuilding but development into a capability fit for the demands of a disrupted, technology-driven environment characterised by hybrid activity, with deep knowledge of its host nations. Scaling DFAT up to meet those demands won’t be easy and nor can the thinking, skills or capacity simply be outsourced to consultancies.

Third, a clear vision of Australia as a technologically enabled and creative state is necessary to realise the intent of AUKUS. The government needs better scaffolding for how research is funded, how the research endeavour works, and how technologies are realised.

Again, this is not a solely defence matter. Building a technologically adept nation is more than national security and the STEM fields of science, technology, engineering and mathematics. Australia needs the depth of engineering capabilities found in the US national labs and an open, freewheeling approach that encourages creativity.

AUKUS can assist with each of these, helping Australia to be better placed to deliver on its part of the agreement.

But admitting that we need to do much more heavy lifting at a national level is the necessary first step and will help us get the enablers we need. There’s little point winning the technological contests of the 2040s if we lose the geopolitical contests of the 2020s.