Tag Archive for: Australia

Losing the insight of Australia’s myriad non-government security experts

In Australia, anti-intellectualism has become something of a national pastime. We are champions of the common folk and heartily reject political and academic elitism. Cutting down the tall poppies is standard, and lauded, practice.

But while we have been proudly adopting this attitude as part of the Australian identity, we have also allowed it to undermine the quality of our national security and defence policies. A sufficiently rigorous intellectual basis is difficult to discern in recent decisions that hinder our ability to protect ourselves, even as we know our adversaries prepare for war.

The Defence Strategic Review (DSR) confirmed that Australia no longer has a 10-year warning time for planning and preparedness, yet our most important defence capability responses to the deteriorating strategic situation are somewhere in the future.

Australian decision-makers have succumbed to the tyranny of short strategy by responding only to immediate political pressures while making parsimonious attempts to access the most rigorously tested ideas and understand the interrelationships between means and ends. We choose ordinary decisions over extraordinary ideas. The recent move away from accessing expert external providers and out-of-the-box thinkers and towards trusted in-house expertise confirms this anti-intellectual movement. The development should make us feel more than a little uncomfortable, as it is not just anti-intellectual; it is also anti-democratic.

Centralisation and control of information are in the toolkit of autocratic regimes. During the Cultural Revolution, fear of external ideas led to the widespread persecution of intellectuals within Chinese society, and today the Chinese Communist Party controls information to such an extent that it is used as weapon against the Chinese people.  Concerted efforts to centralise or control knowledge, which seems the trend in Australia now, is at odds with the principles and the mechanics of our democracy. We should remain mindful of this point, whatever the risks that discordant ideas and voices may seem to democratic cohesion.

Certainly, provision of external expertise has recently been blighted in Australia with instances of bad behaviour and dubious offerings. Some have sought profit above service, and at times even at the expense of ethics and legality. And the products churned out by some general consultancies offer little in terms of challenging ideas or even evidence-based analysis, often inhibited by their own strong anti-intellectualism. Moreover, the insularity of many of the public universities risks creating a self-referential intellectual class that is ‘no longer capable of distinguishing the bartering of interests from the jettisoning of principles’. However, the federal government’s efforts to curtail the conduct of the few wrongdoers has resulted in unreasonable constraints on knowledge infrastructures, writ large.

The Varghese Review into federal funding for strategic policy work is an opportunity to reinforce the important role that external experts play in bringing contestability and intellectual capability to the national defence and security discourse. But if the review results in further constraints on the field of defence and security thinking, and further centralises policy-relevant knowledge creation, we cut off any attempt at gaining an intellectual edge on our adversaries. Fostering a broad and diverse fellowship of strategic policy thinkers that can hold government to account for securing the nation is becoming more important. Indeed, it is a vital element in our participatory democracy. We must democratise the fight to protect our democratic system. This is especially if universities continue in their intellectual decline.

What is ignored in this conversation, however, is the need for improved engagement with those who, as a matter of course, work at the intersection of scholarly and everyday knowledge but are not housed in formal strategic policy organisations. Peppered throughout university departments, research houses, small advisory firms, consultancies and elsewhere are highly skilled experts who exercise independent thought and have a clear sense of civic duty as they commit their means to improving policymaking through research and new ideas. They are intellectuals in the most applied sense and committed citizens of our democracy, but they are increasingly prevented by government policy and practices from providing their services to the national cause.

We would do well to heed Friedrich Hayek’s observation that knowledge is dispersed. That to ‘act on the belief that we possess the knowledge and the power which enable us to shape the processes of society entirely to our liking, knowledge which in fact we do not possess, is likely to make us do much harm’. Knowledge, we should remember, ‘never exists in concentrated or integrated form but solely as the dispersed bits of incomplete and frequently contradictory knowledge which all the separate individuals possess’. In that sense bureaucratic organisations, whether public or private, are not ideally suited to effective knowledge-creation.

The benefits of dispersed knowledge are obvious in initiatives like Wikipedia, the logic of which is to create free, open and self-correcting content through the collaborative efforts of a community of users. But dispersed knowledge is also a form of practical collective intelligence. Examples of this include the Coastwatchers program, which relied upon a small band of civilians in remote locations as an early warning network in the Pacific during World War II. More recently, we’ve seen creative use of open-source intelligence in response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Indeed, collective knowledge is especially effective if it can be brought together at these critical moments.

This returns us to the DSR and the National Defence Strategy (NDS), the government’s response to the DSR. The whole-of-nation approach in the NDS requires harnessing all arms of Australia’s national power to achieve an integrated approach to defence and security. Does this include using the diverse intellectual capability that exists beyond government? Moreover, in the DSR, net assessments were championed as a means to improve decision-making in national defence. But are those trying to develop this capability within government coming up against the same sorts of challenges that bureaucratic thinking creates? Net assessment requires out-of-the-box ideas and access to expert research and knowledge far beyond defence and national security circles. The best options often come not from standard defence or security dimensions but from unexpected economic, technological or human skills and capacities—and more often from their innovative combinations.

Knowledge does not thrive when it is centralised or confined. If everyone contributes, a better product is more often made. So, if we are to move beyond the tyranny of short strategy, we must redress our anti-intellectualism and become enthusiasts of diverse knowledge and the marketplace of ideas. Efforts to concentrate knowledge in-house and limit pathways for external knowledge providers will, at best, result in myopia. At worst, they may become a worrying echo of autocratic regimes, where free-thinking and independent ideas are deemed threats to the state. In its dispersed nature, knowledge encourages liberty and is the source of societal and material flourishing. This is the democratic edge. We should be fostering knowledge as a national weapon. Indeed, it may become a potent form of intellectual warfare. History repeatedly shows that ideals and ideas win wars.

Rediscovering Australia’s Asian destiny

Australia differs from most other countries whose governance is based on Western precepts, because the nations that are most central to our external focus have historical, ethnic and religious backgrounds different to our own.

Their level of economic development is in the main much lower than ours.  Most have been subjected to colonialism.

All  these factors colour their outlook and expectations.

This feature of our external environment presents Australia with two sets of tension as determinants of foreign policy—between interests and values, and between geography and history.

At bedrock, our national interests are defined by security interests—our safety, territory, society and way of life—and our economic interests or prosperity.

As for our values, there is no real doubt. They are Western. We don’t need to apologise for that. Indeed, as others have noted, there are things about Australia that Asia would like to emulate.

That said, some of our most tricky regional problems have derived from values-related issues. For example, over the years, the question of capital punishment of Australian citizens has caused ructions in our dealings with Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia.

While there is a wealth of debate about which carries more weight in international dealings—interests or values—both count.

The second major determinant of our external policy direction is the contest between our geography and history.

We understand our geography pretty well. But we look at it through the prism of our history. Australian external policy has historically placed greatest emphasis on close alliances with powerful like-minded friends. Our hallmark is being on the team.

As a country—not just as a government—we think like the team. Our focus is inevitably on the team itself: essentially the United States and others in the West; to some degree on Japan and India; and, on the opposition, China and Russia.

Our own region sees our place on the Western team not just as a vital aspect of Australian foreign policy—and let us agree it should be—but as its paramount feature, which is questionable.

We are also a nation that has crushes on others in our region—Indonesia, India, China—and then allows the romance to fade; and one that mounts mighty studies on our place in the region, then runs out of puff, or changes governments and doesn’t follow through.

You entitled to ask: ‘This is all well and good, but what are we supposed to do?’

First, and this is from a member of a profession supposed to worry about upsetting foreigners, we must not water down for overseas consumption, advocacy of our cardinal national values.

Indeed, we must make clear our aversion to conduct contrary to the norms that most of the world claims it espouses—essentially, those set out in the Universal Declaration on Human Rights.

This is  a different thing to allowing our Western political culture indiscriminately to impact our foreign policy discourse. For example, Paul Keating’s description in 1993 of Malaysian prime minister Mahathir Mohamad as a ‘recalcitrant’ or Tony Abbott’s reference to Australia’s $1billion gift to Indonesia after the 2004 tsunami when seeking to prevent the executions of Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran.

Second, still on values, the shadow of our historical attitudes on race—both on aspects of immigration policy and treatment of indigenous Australians—continues to hover over us.

Particularly when you have form, episodes such as the One Nation saga, the Indian student crisis or the fate of the Voice, reverberate abroad. The colonial experience of most of our neighbours has left some neuralgic on questions of race. We need to get our own house in better order—and keep it that way.

Third, soft power—the ability to persuade and influence without coercion—is one determinant of international outcomes. However, soft power cannot be engendered by government fiat. And we cannot just tell the US and other Western countries to lift their game and behave better.

The deterioration in political mores in the US, and arguably elsewhere in the West, underlines that such Western soft power as still exists will not have the same positive impact in the current Western competition with China and Russia as it did in the Cold War.

Fourth, if, with the diminution of Western soft power, we want to maintain a global order even partly akin to the one that has prevailed over the past 80 years, we and others in the West must realise we are not cutting it with the Global South.

It is in the Global South that competition for global influence will be most pronounced. It is the West’s interest that it addresses the issues that hound the Global South—debt, climate, people movements and so on.

We have a part to play in that global context.

For a start, we could raise our official development assistance to 0.32 percent of gross national income, the average for member states of the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development, from our current level of less than 0.2 percent.

Fifth, we must focus not just more on the Global South but on our own region within it—and not just on those who share our worries about China, but on those who might not.

Australia started late as a serious regional actor, arguably after the fall of Singapore.

My cohort in the foreign service reported to those who had been present at its creation.

Australia engaged the region in a spirit of enquiry and zest and a sense that our destiny lay there.

The Colombo Plan contributed to the development of our neighbours. Our main universities were centres of excellence on the region. And crucially we dismantled the White Australia policy—opening the door to the multicultural country of today.

Despite this, our earlier sense that Australia’s destiny is in the region has dissipated. We must redress this.

This is about re-educating ourselves about the region. It is about all-of-nation heft.

We will always have to deal with a neighbourhood comprising systems different to our own.

In my lifetime we have come a long way. But we have a way to go—in educating ourselves, in economic engagement and the patient and persistent work of diplomacy. We must keep our own house is in order. We must do better—a lot better.

South Korea’s technological prowess could greatly strengthen AUKUS

The members of AUKUS should expand the security pact to include South Korea. If they do, they will deepen and strengthen the partnership, enhance its technological capabilities and make the Indo-Pacific region more secure.

South Korea’s impressive record of indigenous military-technology development shows it would be a valuable addition to AUKUS, which is a technology-focused defence partnership between Australia, the United Kingdom and United States. Adding South Korea would enable the partnership to undertake more and harder development projects.

Inclusion of South Korea, with its strategically crucial location next to North Korea and China, would also help solidify the commitment of the United States to its Western Pacific allies and help present a united front against shared security challenges. And South Korea, in turn, would be bound closer to the AUKUS partners.

The ecosystem of South Korean military-technology development is led by the defence ministry’s Agency for Defense Development and includes skilled industrial partners such as Hanwah Defense, Korea Aerospace Industries and LIG Nex 1 and many capable engineers in the armed services.

Examples of South Korea’s achievements in defence technology are numerous. They reveal a capacity for defence engineering that greatly exceeds the ability of Australia and includes systems that even Britain does not develop.

The Republic of Korea Navy and its shipbuilders have developed a class of indigenous submarines following earlier construction based on German designs. The navy also operates destroyers of the Sejong the Great class that have been designed and built locally and incorporate the US Aegis system for air and missile defence.

A considerable capability that South Korea can bring to a defence partnership is the knowhow for building warships quickly and economically. US Navy Secretary Carlos Del Toro remarked on this in April, saying he was ‘very interested in the skills and capabilities that South Korea brings to bear in shipbuilding’. He praised South Korean shipbuilders’ ability to produce ‘high-quality, mission-capable ships at a remarkable pace and cost.’

South Korea has invested heavily in building a robust cyber defence infrastructure, as shown by its establishment of a National Cyber Security Center and its implementation of comprehensive national cyber exercises. Extensive work is underway on artificial intelligence and robotics. For example, the country has developed the AI-powered surveillance system S-Goalkeeper to protect against cyber threats.

Hanwha Defense is advancing robotic systems, such as the Multi-purpose Unmanned Ground Vehicle for reconnaissance and combat support.

The Korean Air and Missile Defense (KAMD) system—comprising surface-to-air systems such as the KM-SAM, L-SAM and the US Patriot for dealing with threats of various types and at various altitudes—is indigenously designed, showing that South Korea can tackle some of the greatest challenges in military engineering. The country has also developed its own cruise and ballistic missiles.

Military technology development in AUKUS can be expected to have economic benefits, particularly through innovation and spillover effects, such as promoting growth in semiconductor and materials industries. Adding South Korea would increase those benefits. The country is a global leader in semiconductor manufacturing. Also, its extensive manufacturing capability would greatly improve the reliability of AUKUS’s supply chains.

South Korea is too strong a force in military-technology development for AUKUS to overlook. Adding it to the security partnership would also bolster stability in East Asia.

Pasifika-led development through sport in the Pacific

Australia should work more closely with Pacific Islanders and Australia’s Pasifika diaspora to refresh our development assistance in the region, help build stronger and better-connected communities, protect victims of gender-based violence, and create real change on the ground.

Pacific islanders and members of the Pasifika diaspora bring culturally specific knowledge and approaches that are crucial to achieving success. Government should capitalise on these connections and increase support to programs and initiatives led by Pasifika people. In doing so it may also need to embrace new approaches to development efforts, such as integrating community-based sports programs as a culturally relevant way to connect with in-region communities, promote development outcomes, and score quick wins.

The utility of this approach can be seen in Papua New Guinea. In 2024, PNG is at a pivotal point grappling with the aftermath of social upheaval, economic instability and the intricacies of international relations. On 10 January, PNG suffered severe riots sparked by a bureaucratic blunder but rooted in deeper communal disquiet. That resulted in at least 22 deaths and an estimated 1 billion kina ($400 million) in damage.

Australia is PNG’s traditional development aid partner, committing $637.4 million in 2024–25. But our aid hasn’t always resulted in change on the ground. There’s room for improvement, particularly in tackling family violence and violence against women – which is severe and widespread across PNG.

Complex contributing factors for this violence include poor economic conditions, youth disengagement and a lack of community and social infrastructure. It’s also affected by its colonial history, disruption of cultural norms and consequent breakdown of social structures, customs and rituals. There’s evidence that PNG women today are more marginalised than in traditional social structures, which afforded both sexes leadership positions. Historically, resource exploitation has further exacerbated social dislocation and inequality.

Understanding those and other cultural factors is important for those seeking to address gender-based violence in PNG. There’s a pressing need to restore communities and social bonds and to address deep-rooted social issues. That will be best achieved by Papua New Guineans who understand local contexts, backgrounds and beliefs and who can more readily relate with target groups. Australia’s support will remain important, but we’ll better achieve our objectives by working as prominent auxiliaries with local people.

Sports-based approaches promise a popular and indirect method to strengthen communities, improve education and health outcomes and protect against gender-based violence. The Team Up program of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, focused on assisting development through sport, operates across six Pacific countries and has repeatedly demonstrated the success of this approach. Team Up supports access to sport as well as in-region workshops on recognising and combating gender-based violence and providing access to leadership.

The department is updating its Sports Diplomacy to 2030 strategy. The original strategy laid the foundations for an approach that better engages Pacific island countries, including building linkages with Australia’s neighbours and strengthening communities in the Indo-Pacific.

The Grass Skirts Project, an NGO based in Port Moresby, and its Gymbox initiative provide a strong example of the type of community organisations and initiatives that Australian overseas development aid should prioritise and expand. Its executive team works across PNG and northern Australia.

The Grass Skirts Project leverages sports to drive social change, promote health and foster gender equality in PNG. Launched in 2019, it operates a combined gym and community hub, also called ‘Gymbox’, using a repurposed yellow 20ft shipping container in Hanubada, Port Moresby.

In addition to functioning as a gym, Gymbox provides community health and dietary information sessions and works to address the critical issues of youth unemployment and male violence against women. Done right, sport is a potent and cost-effective catalyst for societal transformation and gender equality.

The Grass Skirts Project also successfully ran the 10 Million Strong Leadership program focused on youth intervention to address violence in communities. A novel merger of new research and best practices with a culturally specific context, the program was developed in conjunction with Shannon Spriggs Murdoch and Joshua Jasper from the University of Texas Sports and Social Justice Center. It was co-designed with community people to address gender-based violence.

Australian development aid for initiatives such as Gymbox can be simple and straightforward, increasing the resources and networks available to successful initiatives to expand their impact. This approach would support local community figures and social organisations and allow Australian aid funding to create change while supporting influential local community figures. Social organisations and NGOs can further integrate with schools, churches and other institutions to facilitate a range of educational and community objectives.

As the Australian government looks to work with Papua New Guineans and our Pasifika diaspora, it should also look to northern Australia. Due to its proximity, northern Australia has significant economic, institutional and social linkages with the region and large Pasifika diaspora communities, particularly in Cairns and far north Queensland.

Australia is deepening its engagement with PNG and the Pacific while heading towards a golden sporting era, including the Rugby World Cup 2027 and the Brisbane 2032 Olympic Games. Translating those events into regional influence should be high on our agenda, but we will increase and extend that impact if we go beyond athletics and work closely with communities and support gender equality in the Pacific.

Marles should discuss beauty contests at the NATO summit in Washington

The leaders assembled in Washington for the NATO summit this week cannot avoid talking about the ghost at the feast, Donald Trump, who looks increasingly set to win the US presidential election in November.

Allies have arguably already begun virtue-signalling towards Trump, including passing the message that their defence spending meets, or will rise to meet, the threshold for membership in Trump’s ‘two-percenter’ club.

This is welcome and overdue where it leads to greater collective burden-sharing. But there is a danger that allies will begin to focus overly on courting Trump’s attention through bilateral transactions, rather than within the multilateral alliance architecture. Such an approach would favour strongmen—such as Hungary’s President Viktor Orban—who also enjoy hobnobbing with Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping.

If alliance dynamics start to revolve around Trump’s ego, then future NATO summits could become unseemly beauty contests for US attention and resources. European allies might compete against Indo-Pacific allies as the anchor for the United States’ strategic focus. Even within Europe, older allies in the west might scrap with newer allies in the east to play host to US tripwire forces and nuclear weapons.

Such contests could degrade deterrence everywhere by exposing disunity and damaging the credibility of collective defence, raising the potential of further aggression by Russia and China. Australia must play its part to avoid such beauty contests taking hold.

Unfortunately, Australia’s voice at the 9 to 11 July NATO summit has been diminished by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s decision not to attend. His absence is more conspicuous because the leaders of Japan, South Korea and New Zealand are attending, leaving Australia as the only NATO Indo-Pacific partner (IP4) to downgrade participation. As Albanese also sent a surrogate to the Ukraine peace summit in Switzerland in June, some of those gathering in Washington will be questioning Canberra’s priorities. Deputy Prime Minister and Defence Minister Richard Marles, who will stand in for Albanese in Washington, has his work cut out.

Marles needs to use his meetings in Washington to affirm that Euro-Atlantic and Indo-Pacific security are inseparable, which would help lay the groundwork for a more integrated approach to deterrence and mitigate the risk that allies encourage Trump to concentrate on one region at the expense of the other. So far, the Albanese government has shied away, both in word and deed, from making this strategic link as unambiguously as some of NATO’s frontline countries, such as Lithuania. Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida has also been clearer than Australian ministers on this point.

Let’s hope that Marles grabs an opportunity to set the record straight in a meeting with Josep Borrell, the EU high representative for foreign affairs and security.

One argument against the strategic coupling of regions is that Trump has already made up his mind to focus on China, which is Australia’s primary concern. Some of those tipped to have prominent roles in a Trump administration, such as Elbridge Colby, argue that the United States must marshal its strength for full-spectrum competition with Beijing, forcing Europe to stop free-riding and to confront the Russian threat. This is not an isolationist perspective but one that identifies China, not Russia, as the pacing challenge. From this viewpoint, the beauty contest is rigged, so why waste time fighting the result?

Colby’s view has gained some acceptance in Europe. France’s President Emmanuel Macron has tapped Gaullist veins to argue that Europe should develop greater strategic autonomy, backed by military structures that do not depend on NATO. Britain’s new defence secretary, John Healey, has warned that Europe must step into gaps vacated by the United States as it shifts its attention to China.

Europe stepping up on defence is beneficial for its relationship with the United States and for global security. But a clear division of labour, in which the United States and its Indo-Pacific allies faced China while Europe confronted Russia, would be impracticable and counterproductive.

In the military domain, the credibility of US extended nuclear deterrence in Europe cannot be readily decoupled from the presence of US conventional forces. Furthermore, the democracies must simultaneously meet the challenge posed by deepening cooperation between Xi, Putin and other revisionist powers across a range of fronts. The response includes de-risking economies, securing supply chains and competing on critical technologies. That requires developing synergies in the industrial base and building a shared innovation ecosystem across the West. Failure in any domain of competition risks losing everywhere.

It’s also not clear yet whether the Asia-first viewpoint of Colby and other advisers that Trump came to rely on in his first term, such as Robert O’Brien and Matt Pottinger, would hold sway during a second Trump term. As in all administrations, there would be a diversity of perspectives across the National Security Council, Pentagon and State Department. There may unfortunately be no equivalent of Trump’s former defense secretary James Mattis to tactfully nuance and implement presidential memos. But others who have remained close to Trump, such as former Central Intelligence Agency director and former secretary of state Mike Pompeo, are clear-eyed on China and Russia. Regardless of their differences, all these advisers would try to dissuade Trump from cutting a deal with Xi, Putin or Kim Jong Un that sold out US allies.

The best hedges against Trump’s mercurialism are broad and cross-bracing alliances across Europe and the Indo-Pacific. If allies pander to Trump for favours, they encourage his transactionalism. But if Trump hears a consistent message of solidarity from his allies, couched in terms of burden sharing and arresting the falsehoods of Western decline, then he may be inclined to rein in some of his worst tendencies towards US unilateralism.

Therefore, Marles should work with the IP4 in Washington to explore a deeper relationship with NATO, including looking for ways to overcome the impediments that France and others have put in the way of opening a liaison office in Tokyo. A new official-level deterrence dialogue between NATO and the IP4 could also be valuable, both for signalling and technical coordination. In the longer term, NATO’s Indo-Pacific horizons need to expand to include exchanges with India, Indonesia and the Philippines.

NATO should be part of the solution, but it also has its limits in Australia’s region. There is no prospect of revising the North Atlantic Treaty to extend its geographic scope, so the Indo-Pacific will remain under a separate alliance system. At the same time, the EU has comprehensive power in such fields as economic and technological security and the setting of norms and legal standards, and it is already partnering with ASPI on a capacity-building project to counter hybrid threats in the Indo-Pacific.

Luis Simon at the Brussels-based Centre for Security, Diplomacy and Strategy frames this balance as ‘NATO with rather than in the Indo-Pacific’. ASPI is glad to be working with Simon and other partner think tanks on a series of recommendations for NATO’s approach to the Indo-Pacific, which will be delivered at NATO headquarters later this year.

One way to nudge the dial without overhauling architecture is to build agile coalitions of cross-regional partners to solve specific problems, such as the drone coalition led by Latvia and Britain, which Australia has joined. In general, Canberra will find the most fertile ground for this type of practical coalition-building among the Nordic countries and NATO’s eastern flank, including in Poland, Czechia and the Baltic states, which recognise that Putin’s unbounded ambition relies on support from China.

As ASPI’s Danielle Cave has pointed out, Canberra’s preparations for Trump must include investing in deeper networks in Europe. The best way to avert the sorry spectacle of a beauty contest is by having a more modern and exciting alternative pre-programmed.

With its risks understood and managed, SSN-AUKUS is our best bet

This is no time to be thinking of jumping from the plan to build nuclear-powered attack submarines (SSNs) with Britain and into a doubtful alternative of constructing US Virginia-class boats in Australia.

Doing so would be to move from a plan with definite but understood risk to one that would have risks that haven’t been examined. Moreover, Britain’s commitment to developing the SSN-AUKUS design and building submarines of the class should not be doubted.

James Curran’s ‘Questioning AUKUS’ series in The Australian Financial Review launches a broadside against the $368 billion project amid claims that the ambitious plan ‘is a mess and risks leaving Australia with no submarine capability’. It reviews domestic construction of Virginias as a Plan B.

But the series of articles fails to present a catastrophic failing of the Optimal Pathway, the course of action which we’re following and which was identified as best by the three AUKUS countries.

There is risk, but managing risk is a key element of any complicated defence project and has been acknowledged upfront by the current and former governments, alongside Defence.

Two points in the Australian Financial Review series warrant immediate challenge. The first is the characterisation of the United Kingdom’s ability to support AUKUS and the second is the proposal of the so-called Plan B.

AUKUS is a critical project for the UK, and Australia needs the UK’s support for it to succeed. Curran is right to highlight the stresses on the UK submarine industrial base, and UK officials have consistently highlighted that the production of the country’s replacement ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) is its priority, followed by AUKUS.

Currently, the UK operates four SSBNs commissioned during the 1990s. These submarines are critical to its defence strategy, as they are the sole arm of its strategic nuclear deterrent.

The UK’s ageing Vanguard-class submarines are being replaced by four Dreadnought-class vessels. The construction of three of the four is under way, and the first is expected to be operational in the early 2030s. Despite Curran’s assertion that the delivery timeframe has not been updated in six years and might have slipped, the 2022–23 UK Ministry of Defence annual report lists the Dreadnought program as on track for delivery in the early 2030s.

As much as the replacement of its nuclear deterrent is rightly the top priority for the UK, the AUKUS SSN is also crucial to the British nuclear strategy. To have a submarine-based nuclear deterrent capability, you need SSNs to protect it.

Not only is the UK’s AUKUS SSN, given its SSBN protection role, at the core of the country’s defence strategy, but also the partnership with the UK and Australia will alleviate some of the pressures on the British submarine industrial base. The significance here is that the UK is a deeply invested party to AUKUS Pillar 1, because that part of AUKUS is also at the core of the British defence strategy.

It is tempting to jump to the counterargument that there is nothing in this for Australia, and that it is being used to prop up the submarine industrial base of the UK. Not true. The UK is essential to Australia’s acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines for several reasons.

The UK was critical in convincing the US to allow the technology to be transferred, and its remains a critical balance to any changing US political whims. A bilateral arrangement for the transfer of nuclear-powered submarines is more easily abandoned than a trilateral one that includes an invested partner such as the UK. And let’s not forget that the UK’s nuclear deterrent is also a critical part of NATO’s deterrence strategy. The UK’s involvement in AUKUS complicates any potential future exit strategy by the US. Think of it as insurance.

Curran’s investigation series appears to promote a nuclear-powered submarine pathway Plan B. The point that is ignored in the platforming of a Plan B is that the Plan B carries with it greater risk than the Optimal Pathway. The Optimal Pathway has involved heavy consultation and has been agreed upon at the highest levels of government and defence in all three AUKUS partners. Its endorsement by all three partners is an important risk-reduction measure in itself.

The so-called Plan B, which relies on Australia being supported to build the United States’ close-hold Virginia class submarines in Australia within the next decade is untested and—based on Australia’s difficult journey of attempting to obtain a licence to produce US missiles under its Guided Weapons Enterprise—is simply unlikely to gain agreement and support in the near to medium term.

More importantly, although the Optimal Pathway is complex and hence unlikely to run exactly to plan, there is no evidence to date of a catastrophic failing of the pathway, nor the development of a level of extreme risk that cannot be managed.

That is not to say this won’t manifest in future. None of us has a crystal ball, but there is no such indication to date. Without a catastrophic failure of an element of the Optimal Pathway or the generation of an unmanageable risk level, any knee-jerk reaction of Australia to change the pathway within two years of its announcement would disastrously undermine confidence in its commitment to AUKUS Pillar 1 and probably drive its AUKUS partners to question its ability to support the ambitious project.

It is simply nonsensical to abandon without a reason or catalyst an agreed plan with known risk that is being treated and instead go for a plan that so far has not gone through a consultation process and would have significant risk.

Debate on AUKUS is important. Australia’s acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines will not go exactly to plan; you simply cannot predict the next 34 years. But right now, the risk is known, it appears that it is being managed, and all three partners have demonstrated their commitment to the process.

The measure of success here is not whether the Optimal Pathway hits every milestone exactly on time; rather, it is whether, 10 years from now, Australia is operating a nuclear-powered submarine capability. At present, there is no strong reason to believe this won’t be the case.

The AUKUS goal: balancing power in the region

Hugh White’s February essay in Australian Foreign Affairs dismissing the AUKUS pact as a mistake takes the reader on a journey through everything that can go wrong and all the reasons we should never have been so ambitious. Unfortunately, it’s a journey to nowhere, carefully bypassing the actual strategic vision of AUKUS, while concealing White’s own central assumption that China will inevitably dominate the region, whatever Australia or any other country does.

White argues that Australia should do all we can to shape the region’s future without ever describing what we should shape it into. This is a pattern for White, whose strategic argument tends to drop away at the critical moment.

Thoughtful AUKUS advocates, by contrast, are quite clear about the strategy Australia is pursuing and how AUKUS fits into it. The goal is to shape a region in which power is balanced, rules and norms are observed or enforced, and China cannot wield untrammelled power to get what it wants, expanding its present malign behaviour, such as its aggression against other South China Sea claim-ants, its cyberattacks and its economic coercion.

White portrays this goal as an effort simply to preserve US dominance, even at the cost of a catastrophic war with China in which Australia would become entangled. Australia, he argues, is backing the wrong horse and should place its bets elsewhere.

But he is misrepresenting the end state that AUKUS supporters seek: not war for the United States but deterrence for an evolving and diverse region. White refuses to recognise that, as a regional power, Australia has agency and must contribute to a balance of the region that necessarily includes the United States—whose continued engagement should be encouraged through clear signals that others are prepared to step up.

The region is not defined by a simple contest between the United States and China. It is comprised of strong democracies such as Japan, India and South Korea, as well as Southeast Asian nations like the Philippines that reject Beijing’s bullying and are putting their security interests ahead of economic convenience.

Certainly, AUKUS faces challenges, which White dissects in detail. The submarine delivery and production schedules will be tough and the capability costs of slippage—always hard to avoid on such complex projects—could be high. Crewing will be difficult and some US lawmakers are airing concerns about their own submarine production capacity.

I can’t address each of White’s criticisms here, but largely his argument is that strengthening through partnerships is too hard and we should therefore submit. His fatalism doesn’t allow for the fact that security cooperation between countries on something as significant as winning the global technology race needs a huge effort.

He is far too dismissive of AUKUS’s Pillar Two, under which the three partners are working together on advanced military capabilities in areas such as artificial intelligence, quantum, cyber and hypersonics. Technological superiority confers military and strategic advantage; cooperation among like-minded democracies could make our capability development through advanced technologies greater than the sum of our parts. The gains can be increased by expanding Pillar Two to other nations, including Japan.

His cynical view that the United Kingdom is simply reviving its faded glory and chasing money from submarine construction ignores the demonstrably deeper cooperation that our two countries are pursuing, including through the British Royal Navy’s increased regional presence and the treaty-level Defence and Security Cooperation Agreement announced by Australia and the United Kingdom in March 2024.

White acknowledges that nuclear-powered submarines are much faster and therefore better for operations beyond simply protecting Australia’s northern approaches like crocodiles in a moat. A nuclear submarine can protect Australia but can also hunt enemy vessels in a sea battle north of the equator. That’s a better warfighting capability, and therefore a better deterrent.

Despite White’s dismissive attitude towards deterrence, sharper Australian teeth will help support the stability we need as our region evolves and we find ways to manage competition without conflict—or, if necessary, to be prepared for conflict. His alternative—buying more cheaper conventional boats for the sole purpose of placing them to our north to defend our landmass—only makes sense if you agree with his strategy of letting the crisis come to us. That would mean accepting China as the dominant regional power—although he cloaks this by referring to ‘Asian great powers’—and then looking to merely survive, largely alone, what would no doubt be a grim period for our region. No United States, no AUKUS, no Quad, no Five Eyes, no hope.

Without our present partnerships—particularly the US alliance and the access it provides to intelligence and capabilities—the cost of defending Australia would become prohibitive. We would be weaker and have negligible regional influence. Those who value AUKUS recognise that Australia can thrive with our sovereignty, strategic choices and economic freedom intact, but only if we remain ambitious.

AUKUS is a challenge—I have no argument there. But as an assertion of military power, it’s a tangible contribution, along with other partnerships, to upholding a favourable power balance and stability in our region. That will help create a safer neighbourhood, and will head off future crises, rather than waiting for them to come to our door while refusing the security of the best capability and best of friends.

Australia needs a one-of-a-kind strategy to prepare for a second Trump presidency

The Presidential debate last week was tough viewing. In the aftermath of President Joe Biden’s faltering performance, and the Supreme Court’s favourable ruling on Donald Trump’s immunity claim, Australia needs to supercharge its planning, because the odds of a second Trump presidency have seemingly shortened.

Australia, like many countries, has been preparing for a possible second Trump administration. Ambassador Kevin Rudd’s Twitter account provides insights into how hard he and our embassy in Washington are working. But as we get closer to the election, there needs to be an approach that goes well beyond the embassy and traditional diplomacy. 

Australia needs a laser-focused strategy that is ambitious, well-resourced and co-ordinated across all arms of government.

Our ability to navigate another Trump presidency depends on the creation and implementation of a one-of-a-kind strategic plan that considers every risk, predicts curve balls, and foreshadows decisions that affect us. This is difficult, but not impossible. 

During the first Trump presidency, there was some conservative commonality between the ruling parties in both countries, which won’t be the case this time—noting Australia is set to have its own election within the next 11 months. This adds an extra dimension to the complexities that would need to be managed.

Scenarios should be workshopped and tested, including with well-connected people from business and civil society. Options should be developed that would help deter policy directions that are not in Australia’s interests or those of our broader region. No doubt a lot of work is already going into future-proofing AUKUS, for example—a job that will have to ramp up significantly if Trump is re-elected. Trump might change direction on the partnership. He could decide to stay committed to just one of the two pillars, or seek to renegotiate the terms of the arrangement.

In addition to defence issues, Australia’s strategy will also need to cover economic security, trade and industrial policy, societal impacts, international affairs and security.

The strategy must also have an offensive element and prepare Australia to capitalise on opportunities, including by making plans to support partners and allies during times of great difficulty, or worse, crisis. Australia fared well during the first Trump presidency and, along with partners such as Japan and India, has lessons it can share that could strengthen our partners’ hands. 

What follows are six priorities the Australian Government should pursue immediately. Where initiatives are already underway, it is vital that they are sufficiently resourced—more is more in this unique situation. They must be led by our strongest performing officials and deeply integrated with related functions across government.

  1. Keep Australians with strong US contacts close and in the tent 

Our embassy would already have identified the Australians with relevant and senior networks—or valuable convening platforms—in Washington and across the US, with a focus on those who are linked to Trump, his close associates and likely future advisors. In that grouping will be businesspeople, former politicians and officials—including retired military officers—and think tank experts. They will be talking to members of the Trump camp, other influential Republicans and key Democrats—who will still be a counterbalance and crucial contributors on a range of issues. Our diplomats, security and intelligence officials, political advisors and politicians must keep this network of contacts focused on supporting Australia’s interests. 

Canberra has learnt some lessons from Trump’s first term when the Coalition was in power. Former Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s recent trip to DC—and his meeting with Trump to discuss AUKUS—shows this is likely already part of a broader strategy. Beyond the embassy, these efforts must be supported by a constant hustle back in Australia and from across Australia’s entire diplomatic footprint. 

There are a handful of serving department and agency heads and politicians from both parties with deep, relevant US networks—although, frankly, not enough. The government needs to ensure these people are put in positions, and sent on trips, that allow them to support Australia’s interests by tapping their valuable networks.

  1. Boost diplomatic representation in key economic and security powers, especially in North Asia and Europe

One assumes our embassy in DC has already requested, and been granted, the extra staff they need for the hard months, and possibly years, that are likely to come. Burnout at busy embassies happens quickly, and the government can’t afford it in Washington. 

Beyond the US, some of the most important diplomatic investments the government should be making now are global ones. Many of our partners and allies—who have long been anxious about the US election—will find dealing with a second Trump presidency confusing, chaotic and difficult. Even if they strike a solid tempo of engagement as some did last time, the administration is likely to withdraw from, or dial down on, trade agreements, multilateral initiatives and important partnerships. 

Trump’s off-the-cuff style of leadership will have unintended consequences, some of which will catch our partners off guard.

All of this will create risks; but also opportunities for Australia. Many countries will seek out other close partners with shared interests. They will want advice, to share insights and to deepen bilateral and minilateral partnerships, especially in areas affected by a US vacuum.

Australia has spent recent years building up our relationships in Southeast Asia and the Pacific, which was needed for a variety of reasons. But now it is time to focus also on influential economic and security powers that will be pivotal in a second Trump administration or belong to groupings that will be. Australia should give priority to boosting embassy resourcing in diplomacy, intelligence, trade and defence in Europe—for example in Brussels, Berlin and Vienna—Japan, the United Kingdom, India, South Korea and Singapore. 

Australia and Japan, which have aligned interests across so many sectors, will become even more important to each other. There may be opportunities, for example, for Japan and Australia to work with key European partners to influence stakeholders in the US, while helping to strengthen links between the Indo-Pacific and Euro-Atlantic regions.

  1. Supercharge our global intelligence relationships, prepare for a changed US intelligence community and prioritise new ideas that bring partners together

The Australian intelligence community has a lot going on. It’s just hosted US Director of National Intelligence Avril Haines; it is working to deliver complex and top secret technology and is grappling with the challenges and opportunities of artificial intelligence and its impacts on everything from tradecraft to social cohesion. That’s in addition to preparing for the findings of a periodic independent intelligence review. 

Nonetheless, now is the time to enhance and bed down intelligence relationships, many of which have been growing over the past decade as Australia’s intelligence community has shifted from a group of agencies—largely collectors and analysts—to a more integrated community that is expected to deliver whole-of-government and global outcomes.

If Trump is re-elected, our intelligence partnerships—and how we leverage them—will become far more vital but also more complicated. Trump has signalled he would replace intelligence leaders with loyalists to a degree unseen in previous administrations. Australia’s close relationships with existing officials—in both intelligence and across government—will likely cease to be nearly as useful in a Trump administration, and very unfortunately could even become detrimental if the purge becomes a witch hunt.

US intelligence partners, and US agencies for that matter, will also have to navigate the challenges of working with a President and staff who have previously mishandled or ‘lost’ binders of classified intelligence.

The US is an intelligence superpower with enormous global reach and advanced technological and tradecraft capability. But a Trump presidency could threaten that advantage, including the advantage it provides to partners, especially the other members of the Five Eyes group.

The US-Australia intelligence relationship has long helped strengthen and deepen the alliance, so navigating any thorny new risks will be crucial—and drawing on individual relationships will be a necessary aspect to this. Australia should therefore deepen intelligence diplomacy functions and prioritise strategic initiatives and new, big ideas that bring partners together. This is the perfect time to propose, for example, a low-classified open-source intelligence centre through which trusted countries beyond just the Five Eyes can focus on high priority, shared regional challenges. Areas could include, for example, analysis of China, economic security, technological developments and climate security. This is the time to find new and unique ways to build rapport and deepen both traditional and emerging relationships.

  1. Our prime minister, and his department, will need to step up 

World leaders are usually strong performers either on domestic or international issues; but rarely on both. Australia will need Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and any successor to be that rare exception. His office and the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet will need to spend more time on global issues if Trump is re-elected.

Trump is an unscripted leader and, as former Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull has written, he doesn’t always delegate. He rarely sticks to talking points and agreed outcomes, so leader-to-leader relationships become more important. The best way to manage an unscripted Trump is to be as prepared and scripted as possible. Leaders’ interactions should be carefully planned to circumscribe the areas in which the notoriously transactional Trump can demand trade-offs that are antithetical to Australia’s interest.

Time with any US president is rare, and exchanges with Trump are unpredictable. This means the relationships built with staff around Trump—the White House Chief of Staff, Secretary of State, Secretary of Defence, Secretary of Commerce, Director of National Intelligence and National Security Advisor, their teams and others—will be even more important than usual. The Prime Minister and his staff will need to work very closely with the Foreign Minister, our Ambassador, and other key Australian ministers, to ensure they keep their finger on the pulse of how such relationships are developing. They need to be ready to identify and troubleshoot difficulties quickly, remembering that Trump, and many of those he surrounds himself with, emerged from working environments very dissimilar to a government bureaucracy. Traditional norms won’t always apply.

The Prime Minister’s office and department will need their own dedicated strategy to help build a relationship between the Prime Minister and a returned President Trump. There have been stumbles over the past year that have been noticed across Canberra and overseas. These include the oddly celebratory welcome home of Julian Assange, the bungled treatment of arbitrarily detained journalist Cheng Lei during Chinese Premier Li Qiang’s visit to Australia and the removal of ASIO and ASIS from the National Security Committee of Cabinet. Greater strategic focus is needed to deal with the challenges ahead. The Prime Minister, his office and department should assess their resourcing dedicated to the US relationship. Any restructuring within the department, or commitment of additional staff to areas such as foreign affairs, international security, international economy and defence, should happen before the US election. 

  1. Appoint a dedicated National Security Advisor  

This is a no brainer. Australia is one of the few developed countries that does not have a dedicated National Security Advisor (NSA) position. This means we are not present at the world’s regular, closed-door NSA meetings and dialogues, where important international decisions are discussed. Before and during a second Trump term, those meetings will become even more frequent, especially during heightened tensions and crises. Is Australia seriously content to continue missing these chances to influence such vital discussions, even with the added uncertainty that a Trump administration would bring?

The Prime Minister needs to create a dedicated and autonomous secretary-level NSA position in his office, supported by a small and high-performing staff. That person needs to be on a plane by the end of August, focused on forming and deepening relationships with key NSA counterparts and other high-level officials so that Australia is as well-prepared as it can be for the outcome on 5 November. 

  1. Australia needs a unique taskforce that is built to last

Australia needs a strong, central point of control in Canberra to deal with the series of interlocking and complex challenges that arise from a Trump administration—challenges that will be both bilateral and international but all of which could affect our economy, society and national security.

We need more than the geographical desks in the relevant departments and the existing ad hoc interdepartmental committees, in recognition of the breadth of impact that a Trump presidency would have. We will need a permanent and well-resourced taskforce, staffed by exceptional public servants with a range of skills. This taskforce, of course, needs to work very closely with our embassy in Washington, and other key stakeholders.

This taskforce needs to react quickly, help solve problems creatively, develop new ideas and be ready to capitalise on global opportunities. The head of this committee needs to be a proven and innovative strategic thinker—someone who can work across and outside government, think outside the box and deliver results in unique circumstances.

The urgency has now increased for Australia to lay down the foundations of a Trump 2.0 blueprint. It must be ambitious and must assume that it will absorb more resources, more bandwidth and more creativity than we have previously planned for. As part of that, Australia must embrace its importance as a regional power that is even more accessible and available to our partners and allies than we have been previously.

Former President Trump has been here before. He’s had time to plan his return and, if elected, will hit the ground running to implement what he wants to achieve. Australia needs to ensure we hit the ground running too.

The ADF should recruit in PNG, and here’s how to do it

We should look to Papua New Guinea as we open up Australian Defence Force recruitment to foreign citizens, and we may be able to learn from Britain on how to get the process right.

Opening recruitment to the Pacific, as well as to the Five Eyes, makes sense given Australia’s historic ties to the region and our geographic proximity. In particular, PNG offers significant advantages given it forms both a bridge and buffer to Southeast Asia in its position as a diplomatic ally and a major trading and development partner.

However, successfully bolstering the ADF’s ranks in this manner means getting the recruitment process right. In this, Australia can take advantage of the experience of Britain, which has a long history of successful foreign service with the Gurkhas. These Nepalese recruits have served in the British Army for more than 200 years, while it also has about 2000 Fijian soldiers.

In looking to recruit from PNG, we should model our process on Gurkha selection. Specifically, each PNG province would have its own selection centre, with final selection in Port Moresby. Participation would be voluntary and open to those with or without defence experience. Testing would be rigorous, with successful candidates proving not just their strength and intelligence but their acceptance of ADF rules and regulations and their commitment to its goals and the security of the greater region.

Where and how new recruits would then serve has been the subject of much discussion. Forming a Pacific battalion, in which recruits from the Pacific would be concentrated, does not look like the right initial approach. A better starting point may be the model that Britain uses for Fijian recruits, dispersing them across a range of units to learn and work among other soldiers. By doing so, Australia could fill gaps more broadly and more quickly. In the longer term, the method would equip PNG recruits with a greater breadth of experience, contacts, knowledge and skills.

There are certainly risks and complexities in recruiting from PNG—or any of the Pacific islands. No two of these countries are the same, nor are their needs, political ideals or existing military ties. Cultural requirements, pastoral care and wellbeing, and appropriate education and training are just some of the integration considerations to be addressed. Meanwhile, potential offers of family residency or fast-tracked citizenship would need to be balanced against the return of skills to recruits’ home countries.

Our allies’ foreign recruitment success, and the fact that we’ve managed to navigate many of the above issues over several years of the Pacific-Australia Labour Mobility (PALM) scheme in Australia, prove that partnering with the Pacific to solve our ADF recruitment problem holds much promise. However, there’s more to do in terms of boosting recruitment, with the ADF needing to grow by 30 percent by 2040 to meet Australia’s defence needs.

An April ASPI report by Bec Shrimpton and Zach Lambert cited views from several Australian and Pacific island leaders, ranging from pro-Pacific recruitment to anti-foreign enlistment altogether. But recruiting foreigners is a necessary, logical step.

Some also argue that Britain’s recruitment success is incomparable, since commitments from Nepal and Fiji were cemented long ago, over many years, and in desperate and volatile circumstances. But the ties between Australia and the Pacific islands also stretch back over time. We are close not just geographically, but through long-established cultural ties, particularly in terms of diplomacy and defence, including on the battlefield. Consider, for example, the 3500 Papuans and New Guineans who fought alongside Australia in World War II.

Born in Britain,  I had the privilege after graduating from Sandhurst of serving as an officer with the Queen’s Gurkha Engineers. I have seen first-hand how foreign recruitment has been broadly successful in Britain.

I now work with PNG provinces in employing agriculture and food processing workers via the PALM scheme. Leaders there are keen to explore all Australian opportunities for their people, including in defence.

One of the arguments against Pacific recruitment points to the gap that would be left in recruits’ home countries when they joined the ADF. However, like workers in any of the PALM scheme industries, what recruits can expect by way of compensation goes beyond much-needed income. They would also obtain training and skills that would benefit their communities and economies upon their return.

Recruiting from PNG—which has a limited defence force of its own, with around 4000 people—and forming a collective security approach that’s respectful of the country’s independence and sovereignty could enhance regional security while adding to PNG’s future capability.

The role of AUKUS in Australia’s deterrence strategy

Elevated to a military science during the Cold War, deterrence is a relatively new task for the Australian Defence Force.

Traditionally, Australia’s armed forces have lacked the mass, range, lethality and ability to project force to deter a significant military power, except as part of coalition operations. But the Defence Strategic Review of 2023 recommended tasking the ADF with a deterrent role.

Thomas Schelling, a leading thinker on deterrence, defined it in Arms and Influence as being ‘about intentions—not just estimating enemy intentions but influencing them’, which he called the hardest part. The signalling of a credible ‘if x, then y’ statement, in the hope that threatening x ensures y action never has to be taken, is the essence of deterrence. Washington’s deployment of two aircraft carrier strike groups to the Eastern Mediterranean in late 2023 was a textbook deterrent message to any external actor contemplating intervening in the Israel–Hamas war: ‘Don’t, or else.’

As history warns, deterrent messages must always be backed by credible threats. Australia should refrain from issuing hollow threats it does not have the stomach and capacity to act on, lest it shatter the credibility of its future threats and sound as British prime minister Neville Chamberlain did on 31 March 1939 when, haunted by the ghosts of Czechoslovakia and Austria, he made what Hitler interpreted as a panicked and unenforceable vow to defend Poland. Far from deterring the dictator, Chamberlain’s words were ’the precipitating cause’ of his invasion. Nazi Germany was immune to British and French deterrence signals not because Germany was undeterrable but because Hitler accurately dismissed the threat of an allied offensive across the Siegfried Line as a bluff.

Just as a non-credible threat only advertises its own bankruptcy, so a poorly communicated threat can invite dangerous misperception, even if it is backed by real capability and intent. The history of the 5th century BC Peloponnesian War by Thucydides offers a classic example of how a failure of deterrence unleashed one of the most cataclysmic wars of antiquity. At the height of the crisis, a vaguely worded Spartan ultimatum fatally underplayed that continental juggernaut’s unshakeable will to go to war. The Spartan king Archidamus II’s credible threat was tragically garbled, causing the Athenian leader Pericles to underestimate his adversary’s resolve. A hubristic pro-war speech by Pericles framed the Spartans as too weak to fight a naval war, one the Spartans won by destroying the Athenian fleet.

The lessons for Australia’s own deterrence efforts are enduring. Chief among them is that to credibly deter adversaries, Australia must impress on them both its capability and intent to ‘act to meet the common danger’, as the ANZUS Treaty succinctly puts it. And what that means, as uncomfortable as it may seem, is that Australia must be willing to threaten and win the war it earnestly hopes to prevent. AUKUS gives Australia the capability to make the targets of its deterrence campaign take the signals seriously, while it is the task of a broader Australian statecraft effort to ensure that its deterrent message—the ‘or else’—is believed.

Since Australia lacks the United States’ formidable military capabilities and the capacity to project them across oceans, Canberra’s deterrent language will lack much of the range and resonance of Cold War-era practice. This means that the red lines Australia draws and guards with deterrent threats will have to be defined exceedingly cautiously. Building an independent Australian deterrent—a sovereign line of effort separate from its crucial joint deterrence measures with the United States—will demand that Canberra be more clear-headed and disciplined than it has ever been in prioritising our nation’s military strategy.

Given the long timescale of the AUKUS project, an Australian doctrine of deterrence cannot assume a fixed, inter-generational threat as US planners could from the time of George Kennan’s Long Telegram in 1946 to the crumbling of the Berlin Wall. Leaders come and go. Economies boom and bust. Governments rise and fall. Strategic tensions wax and wane. By the time Australia operates its full fleet of nuclear-powered submarines, their first war-time deployment may be in circumstances completely unthinkable today.

That is why critics of AUKUS take the bait of foreign propagandists when they assume that it targets one specific country—call it ‘Musoria’, as I did alongside generations of Australian soldiers fighting that fictitious enemy out bush—in answer to one contingency. It simply does not. Nuclear-powered submarines are a country-agnostic capability that can respond along a broad spectrum of contingencies ranging from great-power war to insidious grey-zone threats. Australia has no fixed enemies, only permanent interests. While military planning must be granular and enemy-specific, the overarching strategy of deterrence needs the flexibility to adapt to multiple shooters.

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