On 4 January, three officials from Maldives’ Ministry of Youth Empowerment, Information and Arts criticised India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to India’s smallest union territory, Lakshadweep.

They labelled Modi a ‘puppet of Israel’, a ‘terrorist’  and a ‘clown’, prompting a public backlash in India and calls to boycott Maldives as a tourist destination. Hashtag #BoycottMaldives quickly trended online and the social media frenzy soon escalated into a diplomatic row between the two nations.

Maldivian president, Mohamed Muizzu, known for his pro-China sentiments, further aggravated tensions by snubbing India and making his first state visit to China after an official trip to Turkey. While the Maldives’ government suspended the loose-lipped officials, Muizzu’s shift towards more China-friendly foreign policies raises concerns about the balance of international relations in the region.

If the Maldives government drifts closer to China, and if its relationship with India remains strained, there may well be strategic and economic consequences for both India and the Maldives in the Indian Ocean Region (IOR).

India and Maldives have a complex historical relationship, primarily influenced by Maldives political leadership. Despite historical ebbs and flows, India has often been the first to respond to crises in Maldives including intervening in the 1988 coup against President Abdul Gayoom, and recently providing $250 million in financial assistance.

In 2009, Maldivian President Mohammad Nashid strengthened ties with India, signing a comprehensive security agreement allowing an Indian military presence in Maldives. Indian forces conducted search and rescue missions and joint patrols. They also monitored Chinese illegal fishing in the Indian Ocean in response to an increase in incidents from 372  in 2020 to 392 in 2021.

India-Maldives relations were strained between 2013-2018 by President Abdulla Yameen’s ‘India Out’ campaign aligning Maldives with China to lessen India’s influence over his country’s security. Chinese investments through the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) and general trade flourished with Chinese tourist numbers rising from 60,000 in 2009 to 360,000 in 2015. Yameen’s China-friendly policies led to high indebtedness and then the leasing of 17 islands to China.

Maldives foreign policy shifted again in 2018 with President Ibu Solih’s ‘India First’ campaign, which restored India’s strategic position as the primary security provider to the IOR.

President Mohamed Muizzu’s election in September 2023 brought back Yameen’s ‘India Out’ campaign which was likely supported by political disinformation and online amplification. A report by the European Election Observation Mission (EU EOM) revealed that Muizzu’s ruling coalition of the Progressive Party of Maldives (PPM) and People’s National Congress (PNC), ran disinformation campaigns across social media platforms, including Facebook and Twitter, to influence public opinion and manipulate election results. The report states that their campaign included anti-Indian sentiments, based on fears of Indian influences and anxiety regarding a presence of Indian military personnel inside the country.

Since coming to office, President Muizzu has dramatically reset Maldives’ international relations. He broke tradition by visiting China before India. He requested the withdrawal of Indian troops by 15 March 2024 and signed a USD$37 million deal with Turkey for reconnaissance  drones to replace the gap to be left by the withdrawal of Indian security. To decrease reliance on India, Maldives plans to import staple foods from Turkey and explore alternative sources of pharmaceuticals. During Muizzu ‘s recent five-day visit to China in January 2024, he and Xi Jinping signed 20 agreements spanning disaster risk reduction, fisheries, increased digital economy investment, joint acceleration of the BRI, and tourism among others.

So, why might the Maldives’ rapprochement with China be of concern to both Maldives and India?

If Muizzu merely switched Maldives’ economic dependency from India to China, he would drag his country further into the debt trap. Maldives’ share of Indian tourism increased from 6% in 2018 to over 14% in 2022. By turning away from India, Muizzu  risks losing a major chunk of tourism revenue (accounting for 28% of Maldivian GDP in 2023) generated by Indian travellers to the islands. Recognising that 90% of the Maldivian economy is dependent on tourism-related activities, Muizzu has now urged China to ‘intensify efforts’  to send more of its tourists to Maldives. Increasing Maldives economic reliance on China will only further Beijing’s goals in the region.

And Turkish drones alone cannot match the vital role played by Indian troops in Maldives’ security. India, a long-standing ally since the 1988 coup, not only assisted in various operations but also provided crucial aid during the 2004 tsunami and 2014 water crisis in Male. Despite President Yameen’s attempts to engage with China and Pakistan, India continued to fulfill 70% of Maldives’ defence training needs.

Allocating $37 million for Turkish drones from a strained budget raises concerns about the project’s viability in a growing debt crisis. The money will buy Maldives at most five or six Bayraktar TB2 drones. While Maldives is aiming for a more sovereign foreign policy and does not intend replacing Indian troops with forces from other nations, it may still struggle to monitor the exclusive economic zone around its archipelagos with a limited number of drones and a small military.

From India’s perspective, China’s engagement with the Maldives adds to the pressure New Delhi faces in protecting its interests in the Indian Ocean. In this era of geopolitical contestation, having increased Chinese influence in its backyard is not welcome given that Sri Lanka is already enmeshed in debt-trap diplomacy and Pakistan’s dependence on China has increased through the BRI initiative.

Islamic radicalism in Maldives poses a security threat to India and other neighbouring countries. Maldives provided the highest number of foreign fighters per capita to the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) terror group. That reached its peak during Yameen’s presidency from 2013-18. The political leadership has been accused by some analysts of turning a blind eye  to the extremist recruitment to secure votes. Extremist gangs organising out of Maldives lured young men into their gangs in the name of religion, promising them a better future, a sense of purpose, and material wealth. As an example, the 2022 attack on Indians during an International Yoga Day event organised by the Indian High Commission in Maldives highlighted the threat which persists despite efforts by international partners such as Japan which granted 500 million yen (US$4.5 million) to Maldives to boost its counter-terrorism capabilities. Despite some attempts to reintegrate families of extremists, the rise of anti-India sentiments in 2024, coupled with Muizzu ‘s emphasis on Islamic values, raises India’s concerns about heightened terrorism.

A push to shift the focus of tourism from Maldives to India’s Lakshadweep islands may have unintended environmental consequences. Indian investors have already made plans to set up 50 luxury tents and more permanent resorts, and the hashtag #ChaloLakshadweep (‘Let’s go to Lakshadweep’) is trending on social media.

The Lakshadweep islands are undoubtedly beautiful, but they are smaller, unexplored, and underdeveloped in terms of infrastructure, internet connectivity and manpower compared to Maldives. While one could argue that a boost in tourism might drive economic development, environmentalists have raised concerns that large-scale human interference would strain existing capacities, generate waste and exacerbate climate change, endangering the island’s fragile marine ecosystem and threatening livelihoods. It urges prioritisation of environmental risk assessments and sustainable infrastructural plans to head off a development frenzy driven by the social media feud over the Maldivian officials’ comments about India’s prime minister.

Considering that Maldives is a geopolitical hotspot, and India seeks to maintain strategic influence in the IOR, it is important that both nations recalibrate their actions and responses to better tackle the existing situation and reinforce mutually beneficial ties.

China’s recent decision to expand the pilot planting of genetically modified soybeans has the potential to reshape the global soybean trade.

Soybeans, crucial in animal feed, human food and industrial products, are immensely important in China. Although the country is a major soybean producer soybean production at 20 million tonnes, China is remains the world’s largest importer, accounting for more than 60% of global demand.

The imported soybeans are genetically modified and mainly used to produce cooking oil and animal feed, while locally produced non-GM soybeans are used primarily for direct human consumption such as in tofu and soy sauce.

With more than 88% of soybean consumption as food relying on imports, China is vulnerable to global market fluctuations. In 2021 alone, China imported more than 100 million tonnes of soybeans, mainly from Brazil, the US and Argentina. This was a 13.3% year-on-year increase from 2020. In 2022, China imported an estimated 91 million tonnes.

Systemic competition between the US and China and the ongoing Ukraine–Russia conflict are affecting China’s soybean policy. Beijing is looking to boost domestic soybean production to address concerns about reliance on foreign soybeans exposed during the Trump-era trade war.

Mutual mistrust in US–China relations and the possibility of Donald Trump returning for a second term make questions about the relationship’s trajectory urgent. While China recently bought American soybeans, ostensibly as a gesture of goodwill, it remains to be seen whether the US will maintain its role as a major soybean supplier to China.

This provides Brazil with an opportunity to strengthen its trade with Beijing. A leading soybean exporter and fellow BRICS economic group member, Brazil already sends more than 70% of its soybean exports to China. With new bilateral agreements in place that address agricultural cooperation, Beijing may look to buy more Brazilian soybeans in place of American imports.

The pressure of testy US–China relations has made it imperative for China’s policymakers to increase local soybean production, including through GM seeds. Soybeans play a crucial role in China’s economy and Beijing consistently emphasises the need for increased local production in its policy measures, targets and five-year plans. Recent efforts, like draft rules on registration requirements for herbicides used on GM crops and the 14th Five-Year Plan on Bioeconomy (2021-2025), have highlighted the government’s commitment to exploring agricultural biotechnology for human consumption at scale.

Despite its vast population, China grapples with limited water and arable land, compounded by soil quality issues and the escalating effects of climate change. Although plans to commercialise GM crops as food remain implicit, they align with China’s broader food security strategy.

China’s push into GM soybeans will face obstacles. Public perception is a significant challenge. Despite being an early adopter of GM crops for human consumption, commercialisation in China has stalled partly due to public opposition.

Strong scepticism among consumers has combined with suspicion of Western threats to the country’s food security to create a negative perception of GM foods in China’s population. Recent surveys indicate that 55% of Chinese consumers are opposed to eating GM foods, with nearly 60% lacking trust in scientists studying the issue. Another survey, from 2018, found that only 12% of Chinese consumers viewed GM food positively.

Adding to this public relations battle is a struggle with the effects of social media. Concerns are consistently spread online about GM foods, including that eating them could cause serious illness. This is hindering Beijing’s commercialisation of GM soybeans and other crops, but with 40% of Chinese respondents willing to accept GM-labelled foods, there is still hope that this is enough demand to get things off the ground.

Still, addressing public opinion will be critical to China achieving better food security through GM agriculture. Responding to public concerns, China’s Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs dismissed these claims and asserted the safety of approved genetically modified products.

Having acknowledged the need for better public understanding of biotechnology, Beijing is using state media to try and dispel some scepticism. Articles published in 2022 by Xinhua and China Daily, for instance, showcased the successful outcomes of a GM food environmental and food safety assessment.

The Chinese central government is showing that it’s aware of China’s complex food security challenge. To achieve a higher usage of GM technology in agriculture it has commenced GM pilot programs to gradually introduce domestically-produced GM soybeans and other crops into the market for human consumption.

It has also sought to diversify soybean import sources to ensure a stable supply, and prioritised agricultural trade relationships with ‘China-friendly’ countries like Brazil and others with significant Belt and Road projects.

Importantly for Australia, this could have flow-on effects that reshape global and regional trade flows. A reduced dependence in China on imported non-GM soybeans could result in greater supply, lowering prices and affecting the bottom line for other exporting countries. It may also provide opportunities for other countries to import China’s surplus soybeans, influencing global market dynamics. And amid escalating global food insecurity concerns, it could also pave the way for greater Sino-Brazilian bilateral trade in other areas and trigger closer food cooperation among BRICS members.

While not itself a major soybean exporter, Australia could benefit from indirect changes to China’s soybean and edible oil consumption. Additionally, Australia could harness China’s interest in yield-increasing technologies to export agricultural expertise and equipment.

In the longer term, the likely commercialisation of GM crops that extend to major Australian exports like barley are the most concerning and cast uncertainty over the future of these commodities in the Chinese market.

With more resilient local food supplies, China could reshape agricultural exports more generally, affecting Australia across the sector. Aside from Australia potentially having to find alternative markets for its products, a well-fed China could also export more of its own agricultural products in competition with Australian exporters. Whatever the exact impacts of China’s GM food push, a more food-secure China is always worth watching by Australian policymakers.

China’s demand for Australia’s iron ore is the gift which keeps on giving. It took off in the second half of 2005 and has helped to deliver the Australian economy an amazing $1.2 trillion since then.

After 18 years, the long boom in iron ore prices is still yielding about $32 billion in export revenue every three months according to the Department of Industry.

While governments in the United States and Europe wrestle with how to stop Chinese competition undermining their manufacturing industries, Australia has been enjoying a seemingly endless bonanza. It is a difference that cannot fail to inform our foreign policy towards China.

The iron ore market price last week reached its highest point since March, surpassing US$130 a tonne. Some analysts expect it to rise further as the Chinese government endeavours to lift growth with stimulus measures.

The Australian miners’ cash costs are about $20 a tonne so the profits, federal company tax revenue and state royalties have been enormous. The super profits are effectively a transfer of wealth from China to Australia.

Department of Industry data on the volume and value of Australia’s iron ore exports show the average received price rose above $50 a tonne in the September quarter of 2005, which was more than double the long-term average. It has never dropped below $50 over a quarter since.

Over almost two decades, it has averaged $102 a tonne, rising to an average of $155 over the last three years. The actual spot prices (quoted in US dollars) in traded markets are a lot more volatile, but quarterly receipts provide a comparison with costs and guide to tax payments.

The Australian Tax Office’s latest corporate tax transparency report, released earlier this month, shows the resources sector delivered half all company tax revenue in 2020-21. In 2017-18 the resource sector was paying $16 billion in company tax revenue. Four years later, the resource sector’s company tax payments had risen three-fold to $42 billion.

West Australia’s iron ore royalties have captured an average of $10 billion a year over the last three years and have pumped $66 billion into the state over the last decade, according to state budget documents.

Since 2005, Australia’s total iron ore export income has risen from $8 billion a year to $124 billion, while the volume shipped has risen from 230 million tonnes to just under 900 million tonnes.

China and Australia are bound together on iron ore in a mutual dependency. China takes 85% of Australia’s iron ore exports, and Australia accounts for 61% of China’s iron ore imports. Australia’s iron ore exports to China are three times the size of those from next-ranked Brazil. The Chinese price for Australian iron ore sets the world market.

Iron ore was notably exempted from the Chinese government’s three-year campaign of economic coercion against Australia because the Chinese steel industry cannot do without it.

China does not like being so bound to Australia and does not like handing super profits to the big iron ore companies: BHP, Rio Tinto, Fortescue and Hancock Mining. However, since 2010, when BHP and Rio Tinto effectively forced the Chinese steel mills to abandon the annual contract price fixing negotiations over which the Chinese state tried vainly to exercise some control, the mills have had to pay the price set by the market.

The market price stays high mostly because China’s steel industry depends on its own domestic iron ore mines for about 20% of their supplies. They are high-cost operations and high prices are required to keep them in business. In a competitive commodity market, prices for everyone are set by the highest cost marginal producer.

China’s central economic body, the National Development and Reform Commission, is blaming ‘speculation’ and ‘hoarding’ of iron ore stocks for the latest price surge and is promising tighter supervision of futures markets, however such measures are unlikely to have any more effect now than they have in the past.

Beijing’s efforts to reduce dependence on Australia include supporting the expansion of its domestic iron ore mining, increasing its use of scrap steel and investments in Africa. These efforts have been underway for the past decade during which its dependence on Australia has actually increased.

The Simandou project in Guinea is the most significant new iron ore development globally. It faces formidable technical, logistical and political challenges, but the project is moving ahead. For political reasons, the rail route must be open to general rail traffic through central Ghana. Shipping more than 1 million tonnes of iron ore a week along a rail line used for passengers and general cargo will be a logistical nightmare.

More non-Australian supply will emerge over coming years but any significant fall in the iron ore price is more likely to result from weaker Chinese demand. Many expected that the downturn in its housing sector, which has historically been the source of about 40% of China’s steel usage, would bring the miners’ super-profits to an end. However, there has been enough growth in industrial and infrastructure activity to offset the weakness in residential construction, even in the absence of the massive stimulus programs used to fight past downturns.

The China-powered iron ore markets are contributing to Australia’s unexpected federal budget surpluses. Australia’s Treasury has, in each of its last 10 budgets, predicted that iron ore prices would drop back from market prices usually well above US$100 a tonne to US$55 or (in its latest budget) $US60. Every US$10 in the iron ore price that Treasury gets wrong translates to a A$500 million error in its annual budget balance.

Treasury will eventually be right, but in the meantime Australian living standards will continue to be supported by China’s need for our iron ore.

US Secretary of State Antony Blinken’s visit to Beijing in June exposed the scarcity of military-to-military dialogue between China’s People’s Liberation Army and the US military. Stabilising US–China relations to manage competition and avoid conflict was the main goal of Blinken’s visit.

Despite echoing these aims in its propaganda, Beijing has closed military-to-military channels at the same time that the PLA is ramping up assertive manoeuvres against US assets in the Indo-Pacific, raising the risk of potentially fatal miscalculations and accidents. These channels could mean the difference between peace and war.

The PLA is the Chinese Communist Party’s military arm. Article 29 of the Chinese constitution states that the armed services ‘belong to the people’, yet CCP Secretary General and Chinese President Xi Jinping reiterated to the 20th Party National Congress the importance of ‘absolute leadership of the party over the people’s army’. As chair of the Central Military Commission, Xi is paramount commander of the PLA—itself a branch of the party, not the Chinese state.

That might sound similar to the principle of civilian control over the military familiar in the West, including the US president’s role as commander-in-chief, but these parallels are misleading. Xi commands without the checks and balances central to constitutional democracy. The CCP extends its control over the PLA at every level of command through the ‘military and political dual-command structure’ (军政双首长制).

Quoting Mao Zedong at the PLA’s 90th anniversary celebration in 2017, Xi reminded the armed forces that ‘our principle is that the party commands the gun, but the gun is never allowed to command the party’. The CCP uses political organisations to avoid corruption, revolution and dissension in the PLA, and officials have noted the importance of the dual-command structure in ‘fully implementing and embodying the fundamental principle of the absolute leadership of the party over the people’s army’.

While a dual-command structure will be unfamiliar to most associated with Western-style militaries, it is imperative to understanding China’s ‘people’s army’. So what is it? And why does the CCP think it is  the PLA’s ‘greatest characteristic and advantage’ compared to the West’s single-command structure (一长制)?

Essentially, the PLA reports to the rest of the CCP at every level of command. The party uses a handful of political organisations in the PLA, additional to the military’s command structure, to keep it under control. The political commissar at one of China’s top defence universities has said that these organisations—namely, the party committee system (党委制), the political commissar system (政治委员制) and the political organ system (政治机关制)—represent the CCP‘s ‘painstaking exploration and development and gradual finalisation in the process of ideologically building the party and politically building the army’. These are the three foundational political structures at the heart of the dual-command structure.

The party committee system is the ‘fundamental system of the party’s leadership of the people’s army’. Party committees lead and guide the work of the party at every military level; they also function outside the PLA in all aspects of society. The CCP sees committees as crucial to a ‘unified system of division of responsibility among heads under the unified collective leadership of the party committee’ (党委统一的集体领导下的首长分工负责制). While a mouthful, the phrase strikes on the CCP idea of ‘collective leadership’ (集体领导) that’s at the core of the dual-command structure securing the rest of the party’s control of the PLA.

The second pillar of the dual-command structure is the political commissar system. A PLA political commissar (政治委员) acts as the ‘head of his unit along with the military commander at the same level and is jointly responsible for the work of the troops to which he belongs under the leadership of the party committee at the same level’. The commissars lead and organise the political work of units, including education. Since they act at the same level with similar authority as their corresponding military commanders, they are integral to the dual-command structure of the PLA.

Political commissars also play a role managing discipline, morale and welfare, a function usually filled by higher-ranking enlisted soldiers in Western militaries. Political commissars’ specific roles can vary—at lower levels they are designated as directors and instructors—but they have similar responsibilities.

The third pillar, the political organ system, comprises ‘administrative and functional’ departments that host political work at each level of the military. While little is known about exactly how they function, the role of the political organs is hold the PLA accountable to political objectives through inspection and punishments. (The word ‘organ’ is the Chinese ji’guan (机关), which can also be translated as ‘institution’ or ‘agency’.)

Using these systems, the dual-command structure provides political command that sits alongside the operational command of military personnel. Since the PLA’s official creation on 1 August 1927, there was only one short period in the late 1930s when it didn’t have a dual-command structure. After an almost immediate increase in disloyalty, Mao quickly reversed the decision and reinstated PLA political organisations.

From the Western perspective, a collective leadership system like this would seem to weaken the PLA’s ability to make good decisions quickly. Its advantage, however, is complete political alignment and, ideally, prevention of corruption. The dual-command structure can secure party loyalty with little room for error, but at some point the party is making a trade-off, be it for speed of communication, innovation or intent. The Western military mind is immediately drawn to the limitations of collective leadership, but without a real test we will never know for sure where those limitations might lie, or how restrictive they might be.

While understanding the PLA’s dual-command structure is a great start, viewing the PLA as one might view a Western military is the wrong approach. When considering the PLA’s structure, Western leaders must keep in mind what it is—the armed wing of the CCP. It is a civil-war-born military that exists to hold political power for the party. The dual-command structure is not just a quirk of command-and-control tactics; it’s integral to the PLA’s purpose.

In the CCP’s eyes, the PLA’s dual-command structure is just as efficient and powerful as a Western military’s command system, if not better. Above all, if strategists cannot prevent themselves from projecting their Western-style military perspectives onto the PLA, they risk severely misunderstanding the CCP’s lethal arm, and will pay the price for it.

At think tank gatherings over the past few months in Washington, I asked foreign and security policy analysts about their thoughts on AUKUS. In the ensuing exchanges, US analysts raised three consistent sources of uncertainty that demonstrate how important it is to hear conversations across the US states that will take the lead on delivering AUKUS.

State and local politics, mixed with tax, economics and incentives, will affect the efficacy of the AUKUS agreement between Washington, London and Canberra. After all, Australia’s Virginia-class nuclear-powered attack submarines will be built in American states, not the District of Columbia, and will involve a vast network of defence suppliers, manufacturers and technologies. Engaging these stakeholders early and often is imperative for the pact’s success.

For the Americans, AUKUS is a natural extension of the ANZUS alliance and the Five Eyes intelligence-sharing network. Australia’s distinction of fighting alongside the US in every major conflict over the past century is not lost on them, and the assumption that Canberra would commit the Australian Defence Force to a potential war with China over Taiwan is common. In some discussions, Australia’s sovereignty was acknowledged, but it is not considered sacrosanct.

The question of sovereignty, then, was the first area of uncertainty. Because of the power imbalance between the US and Australia, some American analysts view Australia’s sovereignty as ‘relative and negotiable’ when it comes to safeguarding American strategic interests in the Indo-Pacific. Although the American-built Virginia-class submarines will fly the Royal Australian Navy flag and be under Canberra’s command, American analysts tend to believe that Washington would have sway, if not a veto, over the Australian government’s use of them. Understood that way, AUKUS could erode Australia’s manoeuvrability and sovereignty if the alliance doesn’t establish strong guardrails to protect them.

While these sentiments aren’t usually explicit, Australia needs to be aware of the strong expectation that it would join the US if a conflict broke out. This position was captured in a statement in July 2022 by the chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Mark Milley, who expressed full confidence that ‘if something occurred in the future, then Australia and the United States would still be shoulder to shoulder.’

The second area of uncertainty was the ability of AUKUS to achieve the strategy’s stated purpose of deterring China. Exactly how AUKUS will deter China is a work in progress and an unknown. It will be at least 10 years before Australia’s first Virginia-class boat hits the water, and at least 20 before the new class of AUKUS submarines is launched.

While they’re lethal today, it’s hard to know how effective nuclear attack submarines will be in 20 years. Can AUKUS’s submarine element stay ahead of the technological curve? There’s no clear answer to that question. The AUKUS partners must simply innovate, incorporate and deploy the best capabilities they can while maintaining the hope that their relative technological lead holds for long enough to become a robust military posture that deters China. Canberra, London and Washington must provide a reasoned calculus of how AUKUS would stabilise the region and deter China without leading to greater instability or militarisation.

The third concern was the hefty price tag. Australian Treasurer Jim Chalmers said the AUKUS decision was a ‘game-changing investment,’ and the government has assured the public that aside from nuclear weapons, AUKUS is the only way to maintain Australia’s non-proliferation commitments while safeguarding its vast size and maritime domain. But with the submarines costing up to $368 billion, it’s unclear whether, and for how long, future Australian governments will continue funding an unfinished capability. Defence deals are notorious for cost blowouts, so Australian taxpayers should be prepared to fund AUKUS beyond the quarter-trillion-dollar mark, and renegotiations and cancellations are common.

Yes, AUKUS will enable Australia to inflict costs on an adversary much farther from its shores, and AUKUS’s Pillar 2—which involves cooperation on advanced capabilities such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, hypersonic weapons, cybersecurity—is likely to come online sooner and help deter China until Pillar 1 (the submarines) can be finished. But Australia must acknowledge that despite being the smallest AUKUS partner, it’s expected to have the deepest pockets since it is arguably also its biggest beneficiary. Australia is geographically nearer China, relies on the US for its extended nuclear deterrence, and will suffer a capability gap when its fleet of conventionally powered Collins-class submarines is phased out.

We won’t know for some time whether AUKUS can achieve its stated objective of deterring China. After all, deterrence is successful until it isn’t. But as China asserts itself more and more, it may become more confident that it will get its way. The status quo in the Indo-Pacific will come under increasing stress. AUKUS is designed to balance against this and protect the region’s US-led security architecture. Every member of the agreement must be acutely aware of that, because it carries with it the immutable expectation of Washington that its allies in the Indo-Pacific will deliver.