Tag Archive for: China

Nothing Found

Sorry, no posts matched your criteria

Tag Archive for: China

Under Anwar, Malaysia is moving away from the West

Anwar Ibrahim would not be the first political dissident who has struggled with the transition from opposition to incumbency. In office, his grasp of complex policy issues, such as the South China Sea, has sometimes lacked depth, while his rhetoric often appears overblown.

Since he became prime minister, in November 2022, Anwar has recast Malaysia’s non-aligned, hedged foreign policy with his repeated embrace of neutrality as his preferred setting for Malaysia, his reluctance to say anything but positive things about China and his visceral reactions to the Israel–Hamas conflict.

This matters to Australia because Malaysia is one of its longest-standing traditional security partners in Southeast Asia and facilitates Australian Defence Force access into the sub-region. Anwar’s apparent anti-Western and pro-China leanings will very probably make Malaysia harder to work with while he is in office. The country may be unreliable if there is a major regional security crisis involving China.

So far, Anwar has not changed Malaysia’s official defence and security settings. And members of Malaysia’s armed forces generally prize their inter-personal and training ties with Western counterparts, including Australia.

Also, outsiders had qualms about some of Malaysia’s foreign policy proclivities under Anwar’s predecessors. During former prime minister Mahathir Mohamad’s long tenure (1981 to 2003, and 2018 to 2020), Malaysia often supported pan-Asianist and pan-Islamic initiatives and sentiments, while also sharply criticising the policies of Western governments. Still, Kuala Lumpur maintained close, if low-profile military links to the United States while also husbanding its residual Commonwealth security ties, including its position in the Five Power Defence Arrangements (FPDA) with Australia, New Zealand, Singapore and Britain.

There is a further domestic political context to some of Anwar’s foreign policy positioning. Nevertheless, doubts about Malaysia’s trajectory have notably risen under his leadership.

One obvious change factor is that the war in the Middle East has galvanised Anwar’s heartfelt attachment to the Palestinian cause, leading him to lionise leaders of Hamas as ‘freedom fighters’ and to mourn its political leader, Ismail Haniyeh, as a ‘dear friend’ after his assassination by Israel. This intemperate tone, and Anwar’s vitriolic outbursts against US support for Israel, will make it difficult for him to move closer to Washington for the remainder of his time in office, regardless of who wins the US presidential election in November.

Another hallmark of Malaysia’s foreign policy under Anwar has been the prevalence of pro-China sentiments voiced by him and his cabinet, including on Taiwan and the South China Sea. Beijing’s openly aggressive treatment of the Philippines and the near-permanent Chinese physical presence in Malaysia’s exclusive economic zone are overlooked.

On 19 June, during a visit of Chinese Premier Li Qiang to Malaysia, a joint statement by the two countries said, ‘Malaysia recognizes that Taiwan is an inalienable territory of the People’s Republic of China, in order for China to achieve national reunification and thus will not support any call for the independence of Taiwan.’ This unambiguous siding with Beijing prompted a protest by Taipei’s foreign ministry.

Anwar said in June that Malaysia had applied through Russia (in its current capacity as chair) to join the BRICS grouping, another signal of Kuala Lumpur’s willingness to align with China and Russia on the international stage. China’s state media has unsurprisingly welcomed the application. BRICS has notably failed to attract prominent new members, such as Argentina or Indonesia, and is now widely seen as a moribund forum, which even India, a founder member, has downgraded in its foreign policy.

Malaysian Foreign Minister Mohamad Hasan’s statement at the July ASEAN meeting of foreign ministers in Laos was a concerning precursor to what might be coming next year as Kuala Lumpur takes the reins as ASEAN’s rotating chair. In what was widely seen as a rebuke of the Philippines’ diplomatic efforts to enlist international support for its stand against China’s encroachment in the South China Sea, Hasan said, ‘If any ASEAN member … attempts to bring in external influence to solve its problems, it will lead to uncertainty in the Southeast Asian region.’

Malaysia’s desire to exclude other countries, such as Australia, Japan and the United States, from South China Sea disputes aligns with China’s preferences. It also helps China’s behind-the-scenes efforts to influence negotiations with ASEAN on a code of conduct for the South China Sea. It is particularly concerning that Anwar’s foreign minister explicitly equated the exclusion of countries apart from ASEAN members and China with the concept of ASEAN centrality.

Malaysia’s foreign policy tilt under Anwar naturally raises questions about its long-term value as a bilateral and multilateral security partner to Australia. Along with other ambivalent signals from ASEAN capitals, it should prompt an honest reappraisal of the Australian government’s determination to accord Southeast Asia a general priority within foreign policy. The Philippines and Vietnam aside, it’s not clear that beyond the ritual airing of ASEAN-centric bromides there is a collective vision or prize on offer to justify the ongoing level of diplomatic investment.

Deconflicting activities in new frontiers: the Moon versus Antarctica

If China sets up the first permanent Moon base, it could easily upend the US-sponsored Artemis Accords on lunar colonisation and take control of part of the Moon. Its behaviour in Antarctica already shows how.

In 2020, the United States, together with its key partners in space exploration, drew up the Artemis Accords to expand on the provisions of the 1967 Outer Space Treaty. The goal was to create principles that would facilitate the colonisation of the Moon. One of the key provisions of the accords is a licence for lunar operators to establish ‘safety zones’ around their activities ‘to avoid harmful interference.’ While 43 countries have signed the Artemis Accords, China and Russia rejected them and are building alternative frameworks for the Moon race.

But the stalemate under the Antarctic Treaty over China’s 2013 request for an Antarctic Specially Managed Area (ASMA) around its Kunlun Station on Dome A should inform the Artemis Accords. ASMAs are Antarctica’s equivalent of lunar safety zones. The denial of China’s request for an ASMA is now reducing the effectiveness of decision-making in several areas of the Antarctica Treaty System (ATS). Even the simplest of measures to protect the emperor penguin are becoming impossible to achieve.

Deconflicting lunar activities is central to the Artemis Accords because most space exploration programs are targeting the Moon’s south pole, where scientists believe craters could be an excellent water source. With major uncertainties surrounding the distribution of water reserves across the Moon, disputes between rival space powers over colonisation sites is likely. In fact, in 2022 the National Aeronautics and Space Administration published a list of 13 candidate sites for Moon landings by the Artemis program, all near the south pole, and some reports suggest that China is considering some of the same areas.

Under the Outer Space Treaty, no country can reserve or make a territorial claim on the Moon or any other celestial body, but the Artemis Accords’ ‘safety zones’ are the closest any legal agreement has come to establishing some degree of sovereignty or at least autonomy on parts of the Moon. The accords obligate parties to notify and coordinate their activities with the holder of the safety zone.

But, as Michelle Hanlon, director of the Center for Air and Space Law at the University of Mississippi, rightly asks, what if China were to beat the US to the Moon? ‘Then China might say: “You had a great idea of safety zones and we’re here on the south pole where all the water is. We need a 40 km safety zone.” ’

Back on Earth, that is indeed the story of China’s Kunlun Station, which in 2009 became the first station to be placed on Antarctica’s Dome A. That’s the highest ice dome on the Antarctic Plateau and the coldest point on Earth, and it offers the clearest view from our planet of stars in our galaxy. In 2013, China requested the creation of an ASMA to encompass its Kunlun Station as well as its research and monitoring sites. The goal was to give China a greater say in the management of the area. The ATS states that ‘any area, including any marine area, where activities are being conducted or may in the future be conducted, may be designated as an Antarctic Specially Managed Area to assist in the planning and …  coordination of activities, avoid possible conflicts, improve co-operation between Parties or minimise environmental impacts.’

The Chinese proposal has been systematically rejected by the consultative parties to the ATS on the grounds that no other activities are taking place in the vicinity and that the deconfliction question does not arise. China’s response has essentially been to argue that nothing under the ATS rules out a precautionary approach.

The dismissal of its request has been a major source of disappointment for Beijing, since the conquest of Dome A had been viewed with great pride in China. At the time, China’s official Xinhua news agency wrote that while Americans built Amundsen–Scott Station in the South Pole, [and] Russians established Vostok Station in the southern Pole of Cold, China now operates Chinese Kunlun in the highest point of the Antarctic Ice Sheet.’

In the face of repeated objections, China proposed replacing the ASMA with a Code of Conduct for Exploration and Research—a compromise—but consultative parties have been quick to point out that China can regulate only the conduct of its own researchers and that it has no jurisdiction over other Antarctic programs. Since then, China has repeatedly obstructed various unrelated decisions under the ATS.

In total, only seven ASMAs have been designated under the ATS, reflecting the controversy that surrounds them since they are seen as conferring some degree of sovereignty in a continent where all territorial claims have been frozen.

If the Antarctic experience is anything to go by, lunar deconfliction will not be achieved by legal provisions alone. Diplomacy will have to remain central to the management of new frontiers.

Beware mesmerisation by China’s spell

In the lexicon of Japan’s diplomacy, there is a phrase, ‘China magic’.

Both Japan and Australia seem to be absorbed by this magical power and obsessed with making efforts not to displease their Chinese counterparts. If they are not careful, Beijing will exploit this excessive enthusiasm for good relations, as it has in the past.

When the Quad foreign ministers meet on 29 July in Tokyo, the public agenda and remarks are likely to be largely positive—but don’t let that distract from the reality that the private talks will be largely dominated by China.

Just one example of Beijing’s recent undiplomatic and provocative statements came in May when the Chinese Ambassador to Japan, Wu Jianghao, said, in front of Japanese politicians and media, that ‘the Japanese people would be brought into fire’ if Japan should support the independence of Taiwan.

‘Fire’ means the use of force by China, which it doesn’t rule out using to achieve its proclaimed objective of ‘reunification with Taiwan’. So the remarks, taken literally, meant that the Peoples’ Liberation Army of China would not hesitate to kill Japanese citizens if Japan adopted a particular political position.

This is a preposterous statement to be made by a diplomat, who is expected to work hard to keep peace and improve the bilateral relationship between Japan and China.

What puzzled many Japanese people even more was the rather timid reaction by the Japanese government against such inflammatory language. This was the second time the ambassador had made such a provocative statement, yet Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) made only a muted protest, delivered by telephone and not in the traditional and formal way of summoning the ambassador to the ministry.

This reminds many observers of the weak and meek protests made by the then vice minister of foreign affairs after China launched five ballistic missiles into Japan’s exclusive economic zone in response to the visit to Taipei by US House Speaker Nancy Pelosi in 2021.

Australian analysts might see some parallels here. The recent visit to Australia by Chinese Premiere Li Qiang ended with smiles all round despite the reality that China’s economic coercion against Australia is yet to be fully lifted and Australian navy and air force personnel have been subjected to unprofessional, reckless and dangerous behavior by Chinese counterparts.

Why so? One commonality between Tokyo and Canberra seems to be the urge on the part of their political leaders to proclaim that they are doing better than their predecessors in dealing with China.

Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida is eager to claim his improvement on China relations over predecessors Shinzo Abe and Yoshihide Suga. For their part, Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and Foreign Minister Penny Wong are promoting their approach of ‘stabilising’ the relationship and claiming superior diplomatic management compared with the previous Coalition government.

This is not the way diplomacy should be conducted. Consistency and continuity ought to be a guiding principle.

Many seasoned diplomats and clear-eyed observers would agree that the recent charm offensive by China would not have been possible without a solid and steadfast resistance by Australia against the massive economic coercion for the past few years.

Both Japan and Australia must be prepared for an urgent policy response in the event that China takes some kind of dramatic, escalatory action, such as firing on their their military aircraft or warships in an act of miscalculation. It is no use pretending that this is not a credible contingency for both our countries.

Even pro-Beijing commentators should know that China’s switch from ‘wolf warrior diplomacy’ to the new charm offensive needs to be taken with a grain of salt. As a case in point, the behaviour of the Chinese armed forces in the South China Sea and East China Sea has not improved tangibly whatsoever.

While it might not sound pleasant to some Australians, China’s recent approach could be taken as a sign that it sees Australia as the weakest link among Quad members.

History should be kind enough to remember that Australia has stood tall and dignified under the unprecedented waves of trade measures that disrupted and blocked the flow of many Australian exports to Chinese markets. In facing such adversity, far-sighted leadership galvanised the nation and refused to make unprincipled concessions for the sake of immediate economic gains.

Australia was most innovative in coming up with the brilliant initiative of AUKUS. For that, it has won international admiration and respect. Our mates in Australia must fully understand the importance of cherishing such a reputation and credentials.

Now is not the time to talk partisan politics, but rather to strengthen our two countries’ stances across their respective political divides against any possible attempt by our adversaries to drive a wedge between parties and weaken our position to deal with an authoritarian state.

Japan has some bitter memories. When the international community came up with strong sanctions in the wake of the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, China thought Japan was the weak link among democratic nations. Then Chinese Foreign Minister Qian Qichen boasted in his memoir that China succeeded in using Japan to weaken the international sanctions regime. He even admitted that Beijing took full advantage of the Japanese emperor’s visit to China at the time for just that purpose.

Australia’s modern leaders need to be wary that excessive exuberance while receiving Chinese leaders such as Premier Li—either in private or public—might leave Beijing with the impression they might use Australia in future just as they did Japan back then.

Living off the land: the silent cyber threat to critical infrastructure

Cyber defences can be alert to malware. It’s much harder to be alert to intruders who use the targeted system’s own resources against the owner.

In cybersecurity, such attack methods are called ‘living off the land’ (LOTL), and they’re practiced by the Chinese group APT40, the subject of a 9 July cybersecurity advisory from eight countries, including Australia.

Countermeasures to LOTL are available, but they’re not used widely enough. The main one is looking not for inserted code, since there isn’t any, but monitoring the system for signs that its own features are doing abnormal things.

The advisory mirrored one issued in February 2024 regarding the Volt Typhoon group. Although both groups use complex attack methods, their objectives are distinct: APT40 focuses on espionage, whereas Volt Typhoon appears to be targeting critical infrastructure with little to no espionage value, apparently to sabotage or to prepare to do so in case of conflict. A key similarity between these groups is their use of LOTL techniques to breach large, defended infrastructure, potentially years ago, then quietly lurk on the network.

‘Living off the land’ refers to using built-in command-line tools, programs, processes, trusted network protocols and other native functionalities within a victim’s environment to conduct malicious activities, as opposed to deploying known malware tools or noisy commercial products. LOTL operators such as APT40 and Volt Typhoon exploit tools such as PowerShell, Windows Management Instrumentation and remote desktop services to gain and maintain access to targeted systems. In many cases, tools and network communications have been whitelisted, or are used so often by trusted users that they are not locked down or audited as other tools might be.

Additionally, LOTL requires a hands-on approach, in which attackers manually breach defences and conduct their operations. It must be an approach that’s crafted specifically for the targeted system and uses what’s found within the system. By using capabilities and tools built into the target, attackers can avoid triggering security systems such as intrusion-detection systems that typically rely on matching against known signatures or known behaviours when malware is transferred or executed.

This approach presents significant challenges to defenders and detection, as it enables the attackers to mask their activities within the noise of normal operations.

As APT40’s primary mission is espionage, the group infiltrates networks to steal sensitive data. But Volt Typhoon’s focus on critical infrastructure poses a different kind of threat: by targeting water and power utilities, transportation systems and other essential services, it aims to sabotage and disrupt operations. The use of LOTL techniques in these scenarios exacerbates the challenge, as it allows attackers to lurk undetected within critical systems, possibly for years, poised to strike at any moment.

This underscores the need for advanced defensive strategies. Traditional security tools relying on signature-based detections are insufficient against LOTL-type threats. Instead, organisations should use a multifaceted approach that includes advanced anomaly-detection systems.

Those systems analyse patterns of normal behaviour and flag any deviations that may indicate malicious activity, even when traditional malware is not present. Anomaly detection can be done at multiple levels, from simple network communications, such as a new asset, to a new protocol in use. More specialised solutions can parse the network protocols, inspect them and look for anomalies in usage, such as seeing an approved protocol that’s taking a different action or different direction.

Even more granular is advanced anomaly detection, which looks at how the values, parameters and set points used within those protocols are used. It can thereby determine whether, for example, the speed of a motor is set abnormally high, or a furnace is set to an abnormally hot temperature.

When LOTL attackers bypass security defences without hauling in detectable code, anomaly detection is the next best hope for survival after an incident. In the early phase of attacks, their reconnaissance activities should set off anomaly-detection solutions, regardless of what tool the attackers use.

Second, all subsequent hacking operation activities would trigger anomalies, as the normal activity of regular users usually doesn’t include the same operations that the attackers are doing.

Finally, although it might be a last resort, knowing when the actual critical process, such as a furnace temperature or motor speed, is being tampered with is also within the realm of anomaly detection. In the past, anomaly detection was difficult to deploy in IT systems, but, leveraging artificial intelligence and focusing on industrial control systems, it’s come of age.

Further, organisations should consider enhancing their incident-response capabilities. This should include regular training for IT staff to recognise and respond to potential LOTL activities, as well as implementing robust monitoring and logging practices. By maintaining comprehensive system activities logs, trained organisations can retrospectively identify and analyse suspicious behaviour that may have gone unnoticed in real time.

Most large organisations are dealing daily with breaches, and many security operations centres are busy with daily tickets and incidents. Organisations are in a constant state of recovery. Knowing this, being prepared for a targeted attack from a highly capable nation-state threat is sure to include testing and influencing incident-response and disaster-recovery plans. Tabletop exercises can also expose some of the areas for improvement and expose incorrect assumptions, such as ‘backups are reliable’, or ‘the furnace can safely shut down’.

India is deluding itself: there’s no multipolar world

Despite India’s ardent wish, the world is nowhere close to becoming a multipolar system with India as one of the poles, or centres of power. Instead, today’s global system is best described as partially unipolar and nearing bipolar, with US influence waning and China arriving.

India’s best bet lies in embracing this bipolar competition and cultivating deeper ties with the US.

At a meeting of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) this month, Indian External Affairs Minister S Jaishankar reiterated that the world was moving closer to ‘real multipolarity’. But this is an unrealistic proposition. Organisations put in place by non-Western countries to constrain US power and encourage multipolarity are weakening as rifts among member states widen. Examples include the SCO and the BRICS mechanism for cooperation by Brazil, Russia, India, China, South African and, more recently, other countries.

Indian policymakers believe multipolarity could serve their country’s interests better, but they are wrong.

The US and China are the poles in the international system, as leading states that hold a disproportionate share of economic strength and military capabilities. The US economy was worth US$27 trillion in 2022, while China’s reached US$18 trillion. In third place, far behind those two, was Germany, with US$4.5 trillion. India’s economy had the fifth spot, with US$3.5 trillion.

In 2022, military spending was US$877 billion in the US and US$292 billion in China. The next 38 states spent around US$923 billion combined. While India’s defence budget was the fourth largest, at US$81.4 billion, just below Russia’s US$86.4 billion, it hardly compared with the leading two.

In other areas too, no other state has capabilities comparable to the United States’ or China’s. Both are technologically strong, and Washington has a huge alliance network.

India’s proclivity for multipolarity intensified after the dissolution of the USSR in the 1990s. In 1998, then Russian foreign minister Yevgeny Primakov proposed the Russia-India-China (RIC) alignment to constrain US hegemony. Relations were to be strengthened between emerging centres of power. India followed this proposal.

Then in 2006, dissatisfaction with US unilateralism in global governance paved the way for the formation of BRICS. The BRICS states used their distinctiveness and coalition building to construct a soft balancing mechanism for facilitating the rise of emerging powers (mostly themselves) and restricting US dominance. In 2017, India also became a formal member of SCO, a non-Western regional security grouping in Central Asia.

Success of these arrangements depended on rifts between members not getting in the way. But they are getting in the way, especially for India.

Beijing’s New Asian Security concept, unveiled in 2014, contradicts the underlying objective of these groupings not just to shift the power balance away from Washington but to distribute it more evenly. Instead, China intends to be a peer competitor to the US and covets Asian hegemony. This harms India’s regional primacy in South Asia and Russia’s assumption of sharing great power status with China.

India faces a severe Chinese threat along its borders. Its long-term friendship with Russia is weakening due to the latter’s shifting allegiance to China. Beijing has become a more valuable partner to Moscow in circumventing the West’s support for Ukraine. Moscow taking India’s side in a future contest over the border with China is now wishful thinking. Indeed, the likelihood of Russia positively backing China may be rising.

Ruptures in India’s bilateral relationships are threatening multilateral cohesion. Prime Minister Narendra Modi skipped this year’s SCO summit in Kazakhstan. Instead, Jaishankar attended and met Chinese Foreign MInister Wang Yi on the sidelines to form mechanisms to end the border stalemate. At last year’s summit, when India was the host, Modi expressed his waning interest in SCO by convening the meeting online rather than in person.

Previously, SCO meetings presided over by Russia facilitated gatherings of defence and foreign ministers from India and China after fighting broke out on their disputed border in 2020. But more recent Russian attempts through SCO and BRICS to mitigate bilateral tensions have been futile. Tensions thawed at the 2019 BRICS and RIC meetings after a 2017 Himalayan stand-off between India and China, but recurring border tension since then suggests the rupture between the two countries is irrepairable.

The assumption that BRICS countries differ markedly with the United States on global governance is also eroding. Research has found that, out of 47 cooperation areas between them, BRICS members differed from US preferences in only four: cross-border financial transaction, de-dollarisation, conventions on counter-terrorism, and energy security. This alignment indicates that it may be possible to reconcile India’s interests with America’s, as Russia’s influence wanes and China becomes more adversarial.

India needs to accept that the world is dominated by competition between the US and China. And India’s desire to become one of several poles cannot be fulfilled if China’s bid for hegemony in Asia succeeds, so it needs US support. As the US has similar concerns regarding China, India must leverage this to cultivate deeper military and technological ties with America. That is how it can strengthen its position on the world stage.

Australia needs a plan for a Chinese navy presence in the Indian Ocean

Australia’s defence planners should carefully weigh the risks posed to its vital maritime trade connections by a persistent Chinese naval presence in the Indian Ocean. Some precautions must be taken now, as the need to deter harassment of Australia’s critical sea lines of communication (SLOCs) in the Indian Ocean isn’t very improbable or far off.

Leaving aside arguments for greater Australian capability to attack enemy ships and submarines, a higher allocation of defence resources to the region may be justified.

So far, China has had limited success in acquiring shore-based replenishment capability to support its warships operating east of Somalia. But it could succeed suddenly by gaining access to key logistic bases and dual-use commercial ports in Africa, the Middle East, Southeast Asia and Indian Ocean island countries.

Meanwhile, upgrades to the Chinese naval fleet make it increasingly suited to distant operations.  Larger, multirole combatants with advanced anti-ship, anti-air and anti-submarine weapons and sensors have replaced obsolescent, generally single-purpose ships. According to a 2020 China Maritime Studies Institute report, China has more than 100 warships and submarines that can operate in the Indian Ocean. This figure is likely to rise as the Chinese navy expands its surface combatant fleet to 435 ships by 2030. The US Navy plans to operate 290 warships by the end of the decade.

If relations with the United States keep declining and if the US-Indian security relationship continues to improve, China will worry about its SLOCs. It could respond by deploying many ships to the Indian Ocean. The same deployment would threaten Australia’s SLOCs.

In an escalated low-level contingency, Australia would have to show its readiness to conduct strike and anti-submarine operations. It would need more reconnaissance of its northern and western approaches and more protection of offshore resources and port and naval infrastructure, including against covert mining. Failure to show resolve would cede the initiative to potential adversary forces and undermine deterrence.

Closer defence cooperation with selected Indian Ocean island countries could check Chinese efforts to gain access to overseas ports and logistic support. The government of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has pledged to increase Australian Defence Force deployments, training and exercises with the Maldives as well as Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. These are welcome developments upon which the Australian government and Department of Defence could easily build.

Some ways of strengthening Australia’s Indian Ocean defence cooperation can be inexpensive, as suggested by Asia-Pacific Development, Diplomacy and Defence Dialogue’s options paper published in April. Opportunities include the placement of more defence attaches in missions in the region—including the Australian high commission in the Republic of Maldives—and establishing relationships between ADF Reserve units and small island states. The US State Partnership Program, which facilitates cooperation on civil-military affairs, could act as a model to inform the structure, shape and role of an Australian initiative.

Australian military leaders and defence planners should also look to improve proficiency in shipping protection and, if the work hasn’t been done already, develop a suite of maritime trade routing plans. They can look to successful strategies in Australian history, as discussed during the 2019 Goldrick Seminar on Maritime Trade and its Implications for Australia’s Defence. One example given then was Australia’s experience instituting a convoying regimen during World War II to protect Australian merchant shipping against German surface, air and sub-surface (including mining) attack. Another was the comprehensive operational analysis capability of the performance  of the Royal Australian Navy exercise system developed by the RAN Research Laboratory (later incorporated into what is now the Defence Science and Technology Group). In the absence of an overarching maritime security strategy, further work along these lines would help reinforce and make credible Australia’s deterrence by denial strategy.

Australia won’t have to meet potential mid-Indian Ocean security concerns alone, thanks to increasing security cooperation with India and Britain and the alliance with the United States. Moreover, the current plan to expand the surface combatant fleet to 26 major warships from 11 (at the time of the February announcement) will see Australia operate its largest navy since World War II. Australian maritime doctrine and tactics will need updating accordingly. This will be essential to ensure our sailors can deter meaningful threats to merchant shipping and maritime trade if needed.

These measures should form part of a whole-of-nation approach to Australia’s evolving defence policy and planning in the Indian Ocean region. The Chinese navy will no doubt continue to expand its presence and reach in this important geopolitical arena. Australia is taking important first steps to achieving an effective deterrence strategy, but more is needed.

Cyber security means sticking with trusted, not any, providers

The Crowdstrike software outage disrupted airlines, banks, supermarkets and other major services—causing significant inconvenience for millions of people worldwide.  

It has prompted many to marvel that so many global operations and organisations rely on so few cybersecurity companies—and hence a bungle at a single firm means blue screens, grounded flights and frozen financial transactions across the world. 

Yet the well-meaning calls to have a wider range of cybersecurity providers to avoid single points of failure overlook the fact that there aren’t a lot of truly trusted firms out there.  

Much like the 5G dilemma in the late 2010s—in which two Scandinavian firms were considered the only safe options—once you search beyond the big, mostly United States-based cyber security companies, many of the alternatives are unpalatable or even unthinkable, such as big Chinese providers. Diversification of cybersecurity services to spread the risk around isn’t so easy, at least immediately. 

Yes, more trusted providers would be ideal. But the emphasis must be on trust, not simply availability. Australia should continue to entrust our critical infrastructure, technology and services only to proven providers that don’t pose long-term and deeper risks than occasional mistakes causing outages. 

There is no perfect system or product. All require regular maintenance and will therefore have vulnerabilities. The risks are twofold: the first is unforced errors either through human failure or technical glitches, and the second is the threat from malign actors and malicious software. There are ways to mitigate both—but not to eliminate them altogether.  

A temporary outage should be seen as a known risk of our digital world, just as we accept that floods and fires are realities in the natural world. Inconvenience isn’t the same as catastrophe. 

Malign threats ultimately pose the bigger problem, and the best way to safeguard against those is to stick with trusted providers. To turn hastily to providers from high-risk countries–whether China or Russia given the shadowy connections of the US-banned Kaspersky–would amount to solving the reliability issue by creating an even worse security weakness.

In 2018, allowing Chinese companies to supply Australia’s 5G infrastructure would have brought a degree of immediate convenience. But we, followed by many Western and partner nations, resolved that only Nokia and Ericsson could ensure long-term security and sovereignty. 

That episode was a wake-up call that, over time, we need industry policies, involving collaboration with friendly nations, to ensure we have resilient sectors across critical technologies and won’t ever be left with our only choice being Chinese or other high-risk vendors. 

And that goes for cybersecurity as well. Greater choice of trusted providers would of course be in the national interest, but that is a longer-term challenge.  

Trust is everything. This doesn’t just mean trust that nothing will go wrong–it means trust when something does go wrong. At no stage was there a security problem with Crowdstrike. There are, of course, flow-on safety effects, with criminals seeking to take advantage of people who are trying to get back online as quickly as possible.  

But the transparency Crowdstrike showed has helped mitigate these risks. We knew within minutes what the problem was, Crowdstrike produced a fix in under 80 minutes and its CEO posted a public apology for the disruption within hours.  

We couldn’t possibly expect such transparency from operators in countries like China.  

Compare the situation with the COVID outbreak; imagine the digital equivalent of Beijing’s cover up of the origins of the virus—even if it was a technical error and not a malicious action. 

Compare also the Crowdstrike disruption with another major event this year that exposed the world’s dependence on software—the XZ attack uncovered in late March. The China-based hacker who privately claimed responsibility spent two years infiltrating and infecting Linux compression tool XZ—software that is used by organisations globally, including by Australia’s intelligence agencies.  

The malicious infection would have spread across the world had it not been for a US-based engineer who, working in his private time, noticed that software relying on XZ was operating about half a second more slowly than it should, and reported the anomaly. His post meant the Five Eyes intelligence agencies were able to prevent the attack. Of course, the added irony is that if the public-spirited engineer had lived in China, he could never have made such a disclosure. 

While Crowdstrike was criticised for taking almost six hours to apologise for a fault, the XZ hijacker was only sorry that his plot to covertly infect hundreds of millions of computers was disrupted. 

Cybersecurity firms need to enjoy a special type of trust because they require privileged access to our computer networks to be effective. We let them in so they can protect us.  

Imagine if a cybersecurity company was controlled by a foreign state and could be compelled to insert or spread a malicious update. 

Beijing passed a law in 2021 that requires any business operating in China to report any coding flaws to a government agency before patching the vulnerability or revealing its existence publicly. A report from the Atlantic Council makes clear that the information about the bug is then shared with China’s state-sponsored hackers, who exploit them. 

Consistent with this, our own Australian Signals Directorate just this month led a group of allied intelligence agencies in declaring that China’s Ministry of State Security was behind major cyber attacks on Australian networks. 

Granted, it is hard to imagine a major Australian bank, airline or other critical infrastructure operator turning to a Chinese cybersecurity firm. But, as with 5G, many countries might see it as an acceptable alternative. 

For Australia, the lesson is that we must accept, for now, the risk of occasional widespread outages due to our reliance on a few trusted firms. Longer term, resilience can come from incentives to build and strengthen our own cybersecurity sectors. Facing a bushfire season, we would never turn to firebugs just because they know a thing or two about pyrology. Likewise, we mustn’t learn the wrong lessons from the Crowdstrike blackout.

Third plenum exits show trust still an issue for Xi

The Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party has accepted the resignation of one of its own most highly ranked members, former foreign minister Qin Gang, highlighting Xi Jinping’s continuing lack of trust in some of his own hand-picked officials.

Qin’s exit, along with that of other senior officials dismissed from office in the past year, was confirmed on 18 July at a key Central Committee meeting held every five years, known as the third plenum.

Xi’s loss of trust in these senior officials, and allegations of corruption that underlie some of them, sit uncomfortably close to the centre of power in China. It is a situation that likely makes him doubt information and advice he receives on the issues he cares about most. Some, such as military preparedness, leave little room for miscalculation.

Qin mysteriously disappeared from public view in June 2023, was removed from his post at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the following month and was stripped of his title as state councillor in October. His fall from grace prompted intense speculation about how someone who was once known as a close aid of Xi and who had risen so quickly in the foreign affairs system could seemingly disappear just as quickly and without explanation. No known charges have been lodged against him, he has not been expelled from the party, and, with his final resignation, in the end he has been let off gently. That leaves room for different interpretations of what has happened.

With a long career in the foreign ministry, Qin was appointed China’s ambassador to the United States in December 2022. Just 17 months later, he became foreign minister. The speed of his promotion appeared to be intended to help ease tensions between the US and China. His disappearance came after he had been in the job for seven months and had reportedly had an extra-marital affair while in the US that resulted in a secret child born with American citizenship.

But Qin is only one of a growing list of senior officials removed from office in the past year, some explicitly for corruption, others without public explanation. There was speculation that the third plenum had been delayed due to the corruption investigations of Central Committee members. The most prominent of those being investigated include defence minister Li Shangfu, whose expulsion from the party and its Central Committee was announced in June (and confirmed by the plenum this week). Others are former science and technology minister Wang Zhigang and former finance minister Liu Kun, whose removal from his ministerial position was announced at the same time as Qin’s dismissal as a state councillor. This table lists the most significant dismissals of the past year:

Several of these people had policy roles that were important to achieving by mid-century Xi’s vision of the ‘national rejuvenation of the Chinese nation’, meaning to make China the world’s leading economic power and the most influential political actor in global politics.

In addition to the removal of the defence minister and the commander of the People’s Liberation Army Rocket Force, nine other military officials were also purged last year—in part due to corruption that led to missiles being filled with water instead of fuel, according to US intelligence assessments. Such incidents have likely eroded Xi’s confidence in the armed forces’ capabilities and set back his military modernisation mission.

If Xi wants the party to achieve his vision for China, he needs to know he can trust his officials to give him accurate assessments and faithfully carry out his orders. The question of whom he can trust is clearly on his mind: in recent months, he has said he wants officials to ensure his orders are carried out ‘smoothly’ and that the PLA must always remain steadfastly ‘loyal and reliable’ to the party and therefore to Xi personally.

Since his appointment as party leader in 2012, Xi has made fighting corruption within it a central feature of his rule, removing both high and low ranked officials in ministries, military branches, and state-owned enterprises. Millions have been prosecuted.

Xi began his third term as leader at the 20th party congress in October 2022 by filling the upper echelon of the party with personal allies and loyalists, some of whom had been with him for decades. These were all men (there were no women) whom he thought he could trust to do as he said and even tell him what he needed to hear. Within less than a year, he was having to cut some of his own proteges loose.

It’s not easy being number one, particularly one who has become so central to all aspects of governing China and who is now even more reluctant to delegate than before. Each one of Xi’s decisions affects every facet of China’s society, prospects and international standing. Xi will likely always need to have one eye looking over his shoulder for the next Qin Gang to appear. And in the end, he is completely alone with it all.

Australia’s inaction as Chinese companies enable Russia’s aggression

There’s no end in sight to the nightmare of Russia’s assault on Ukraine. Scores were left dead and injured across Ukraine last week when Russian missiles struck Kyiv and other cities. One even tore through the country’s largest children’s hospital.

Minister for Foreign Affairs Penny Wong called the attack abhorrent and condemned the ‘targeting of civilian infrastructure, including hospitals.’

It’s a laudable sentiment, but Wong’s fine words can’t conceal the massive China-shaped hole in Australia’s response to Russia’s brutality.

The Albanese government has said that ‘those who provide material support to Russia’s illegal and immoral war will face consequences.’ Australia has accordingly sanctioned a range of North Korean and Iranian entities and individuals supplying the Russian military.

Yet Canberra hasn’t fully followed through with its pledge to punish those who materially aid and abet Moscow. More than two years after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Beijing continues to support Moscow diplomatically by amplifying Kremlin-friendly messages and undermining Kyiv’s negotiating position. China has also offered an economic lifeline to Russia in the form of surging bilateral trade.

But worse than all of that, China has backed Russia on the battlefield. Although China might not be sending lethal military assistance, its technology exports are critical to Russia’s ability to wage war against Ukraine and its people. According to analysis from Nathaniel Sher at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, every month China supplies ‘over [US]$300 million worth of dual-use products identified … as “high priority” items necessary for Russia’s weapons production.’

These essential Chinese inputs to Russia’s defence industry include machine tools, microprocessors, navigation devices, optical equipment and other items. Chinese companies have also acted as intermediaries by transhipping foreign-made dual-use goods to Russia. Many of the Russian missiles, drones and tanks targeting Ukraine and its citizens depend on Chinese technology and supply chains to kill and maim.

It’s possible that Chinese companies even had a hand in the manufacture of the missile that slammed into the children’s hospital in Kyiv last week.

Despite the recent announcement of more Australian military assistance, Canberra could still be doing more to directly support Ukraine. Among other things, the Albanese government could reestablish the Australian embassy in Kyiv, deepen intelligence sharing with Ukraine and elevate the Ukrainian struggle in Australia’s regional diplomacy.

But the hard truth is that efforts to defend Ukraine and its people will be hamstrung without also tackling China’s support for Russia’s belligerence. As NATO’s Washington Summit Declaration plainly stated: China ‘has become a decisive enabler of Russia’s war against Ukraine through its so-called “no limits” partnership and its large-scale support for Russia’s defence industrial base.’

Some of Australia’s closest allies and partners have already acted to meet this challenge. The US, EU, Britain and Japan have all levelled sanctions against Chinese companies exporting dual-use products to Russia.

Although the Albanese government has been a prolific user of sanctions against Russia, Myanmar, North Korea, Iran and others, it still hasn’t moved against the Chinese companies supplying Russian defence industry.

Imposing such sanctions on Chinese companies wouldn’t be entirely risk free for Australia. Beijing could delay the expected removal of the final trade restrictions on live lobster and red meat if Canberra threw the hammer down on Chinese companies. China might even threaten to impose new coercive measures on other Australian exports or freeze some forms of diplomatic contact with Canberra.

But if China’s so-far fairly boilerplate rhetorical response to Japan’s recent sanctions is a reliable guide, then there’s every chance Beijing won’t retaliate.

And as unhappy as Beijing might be with Canberra for imposing such sanctions, China would still have many compelling reasons to keep ties with Australia broadly stable. China likely doesn’t want to reverse the last few years of ongoing relationship repair with Australia and again suffer the costs of excluding valuable Australian commodities from its market.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that sanctions will persuade China to stop supplying Russia with dual-use technology. The US, EU, British and Japanese sanctions on Chinese companies haven’t yet staunched the flow of the technological inputs that Russia’s defence industry needs. And the long history of sanctions points to their patchy record of changing targeted countries’ behaviour.

But if Australia really is ‘resolute in [its] support for Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity,’ then it’s hard to see how the Albanese government can avoid imposing such sanctions.

To give China extra reason to wind back its support for Russia, Australia could also quietly encourage regional allies and partners like New Zealand, South Korea and Singapore to take similar measures. Beijing might not be swayed even if Canberra could build a coalition of regional capitals willing to act against the Chinese companies supplying Russia’s war machine. And yet such an approach still stands a better chance of changing China’s calculus than the verbal objections that the Albanese government has offered to date.

Speaking last month at the Summit on Peace in Ukraine, Minister for the National Disability Insurance Scheme Bill Shorten called for a world ‘where no country dominates and no country is dominated.’

This is a noble goal. But Australia can’t hope to build that kind of world if it isn’t willing to take concrete action against China’s material support for Russia’s invasion and occupation of Ukraine.

Keep Britain east of Suez, Mr Healey

John Healey, the secretary of state for defence in Britain’s new Labour government, could be forgiven for not putting the country’s geostrategic presence in the Indo-Pacific at the top of his to-do list. Russia’s aggression against Ukraine and the capability shortfalls that the conflict has indirectly highlighted in Britain’s armed forces will be absorbing most of his attention, as well as Labour’s wider interest in repairing relations with the European Union.

In opposition, Healey questioned the wisdom of deploying British forces to the Indo-Pacific as part of the Conservative government’s tilt to the region. But Labour winding back a recently revived British military presence east of Suez would not be in the national interest.

There is no suggestion that Labour is about to weaken Britain’s commitment to industrial and technological collaboration with Indo-Pacific partners under the distinct AUKUS and Global Combat Air Programme tripartite initiatives. Still, Healey may feel his scepticism about the value of long-range British military deployments was warranted, now that he has been briefed on the fiscal realities confronting the new government. Labour is likely to feel an additional political imperative to distance itself from the Indo-Pacific tilt as a Brexit-era initiative and from any perceived associations with post-imperial nostalgia in its framing by the Conservative government.

Yet the strategic trend is that Europe and Asia’s security storm clouds are undeniably merging, not least due to Russia’s deepening partnership with China and North Korea since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. China and North Korea are both backing Russia’s revanchist bid to buckle the European security order. This offers them a potential precedent for, and a useful distraction from, their own revisionist ambitions in the Indo-Pacific.

For now, Beijing’s support for Moscow’s war effort is less overt than Pyongyang’s. But China has steadily amped up its material and diplomatic assistance for the Kremlin, while cultivating common cause with Europe’s spoilers Hungary and Serbia. The Chinese armed forces recently conducted joint exercises with Belarus close to the Polish border. The authoritarian regimes of China, North Korea, Russia and Iran are a disparate bloc, but they are now sufficiently aligned and emboldened to be treated as a trans-regional threat of global proportions. China and Russia want to carve out spheres of influence in Europe and Asia and to impose a defensive and static strategic mindset in both regions.

Given Moscow’s ongoing invasion of Ukraine, Britain’s Labour government has little alternative but to continue prioritising NATO and Euro-Atlantic security, as did its predecessor. But it must be careful not to draw in its strategic horizons too tightly or to make Europe the centrepiece of its defence efforts for political reasons. Britain still has genuine global interests and responsibilities as a permanent member of the UN Security Council. It should continue to adjust its strategic outlook and posture to a world where the epicentre of economic and military power has migrated permanently from the Euro-Atlantic to the Indo-Pacific. Russia’s aggression against Ukraine has done nothing to change this. If anything, it has accelerated the power shift eastwards.

Labour should therefore commit to maintaining a British presence across the Indo-Pacific that is not only diplomatic or commercial in nature but also military—not as a go-it-alone quixotic tilt, but as an integral and essential tool in Britain’s statecraft.

Defence engagement with the Indo-Pacific is not only about countering threats. It is also about Britain pursuing a share in the rewards that the region has to offer and giving something back. Economic opportunity and strategic risk are considered opposite sides of the same coin in the Indo-Pacific in ways that are still unfamiliar to Europe, despite the continent’s rude geopolitical reawakening since February 2022. One of the most commendable features of the Integrated Review under the previous British government was its appreciation of the subtle interplay between prosperity and security in statecraft. That trade follows the flag once more was apparent in Britain’s accession to the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership, in 2023.

To be credible in the eyes of allies, trading partners and potential adversaries alike, British statecraft in the Indo-Pacific should incorporate military facets, to bolster its diplomacy and balance its economic ambition. Otherwise, Britain risks looking more like a mercantilist interloper than a durable partner with an active stake in the region’s stability. Doubling down on industrial and technological cooperation alone is unlikely to cut it as a British contribution to supporting the free and open international order in the world’s most important region. Britain needs to put skin in the game.

As a priority, Labour should honour the commitment under AUKUS to have a British submarine operating regularly from Western Australia later this decade. AUKUS is more than just a capability initiative. The forward deployment of American and British submarines to Australia directly supports collective deterrence in the Indo-Pacific.

Fielding a persistent British security presence in the Indo-Pacific is not only about counter-balancing China or pleasing the Americans. Independent demand signals for more British defence engagement are strong across the region, from Australia to Japan, including island nations in the Pacific such as Fiji and traditional defence partners in Southeast Asia, such as Brunei and Singapore. There are also fledgeling relationships—for example, with Cambodia and the Philippines. Britain’s regional defence relationships are already paying off far beyond the frugal sums involved. Dialling them back would disappoint many, spiking the country’s reputation as a reliable partner.

The forward deployment of two roving patrol ships to the Indo-Pacific since 2021 has been a novel innovation in naval diplomacy on a shoestring. Forward immersion and the embedding of small units with niche competences within the region has helped to lift partners’ capacity, but also enabled His Majesty’s Government and its armed services to reconstitute their granular knowledge of the Indo-Pacific’s diverse defence environment. Labour could expand on this momentum by committing to replace the patrol ships with frigates later this decade.

Britain’s deployments of aircraft carrier and amphibious groups are more resource intensive. But expeditionary capabilities are a more obvious fit for this predominantly maritime theatre than for European waters. They also generate opportunities to work with European partners outside of NATO’s confines and comfort zones, facilitating a multinational and better coordinated European defence presence in the Indo-Pacific. Britain’s ability to project force over long distances is limited but still confers convening power—by necessity.

The chastening reality is that Britain’s threadbare armed forces have no option but to make up for missing capabilities from allies and partners. That depends on the good will of European and Indo-Pacific countries to collaborate and to provide the necessary support. But if these habits of cooperation can be sustained and are not taken for granted, the result will be a net benefit for Britain’s interests and regional security.

In weighing his options, Healey faces an echo of the dilemma confronted by his forerunner and namesake, Denis Healey, who took the helm as Harold Wilson’s defence secretary 60 years ago. After the sterling crisis, the earlier Healey opted to cut back Britain’s strategic cloth east of Suez to fit a shrunken economic base (and to respond to Soviet pressures in Europe). As a drawing down of imperial-era commitments, it was the correct call for the times. By contrast, Labour’s new defence secretary should recognise that to keep pace with and manoeuvre in a fast-changing world, Britain cannot afford to be militarily absent from the Indo-Pacific.