Tag Archive for: China

Turning the spotlight on China’s global effort to recruit scientists

Attention on the Chinese government’s recruitment of overseas scientists reached a crescendo when renowned Harvard nanotechnology expert Charles Lieber was arrested and charged with hiding his participation in China’s Thousand Talents Plan in January.

As ASPI’s new report, Hunting the phoenix: The Chinese Communist Party’s search for technology and talent, explains, he is likely only one among more than 60,000 scientists recruited through over 200 talent recruitment programs run by the Chinese government in an effort to gain technology and talent from abroad since 2008.

The scale of these recruitment activities appears to be immense, as are the security risks for targeted countries. For example, uncontrolled technology transfers to China could end up in weapon programs and enable human rights abuses. The economic costs are also high, as valuable intellectual property bleeds out of taxpayer-funded universities and into China, potentially costing revenue and jobs. Yet countries and institutions outside of the United States are only now beginning to forge responses to this problem.

But rather than focusing on the individuals who have joined talent-recruitment programs, Hunting the phoenix describes their structure and recruitment mechanisms, which until now have been poorly understood. These programs are much broader than the Thousand Talents Plan. For example, more than 80% of talent-recruitment programs are run at the subnational level and may attract as many as seven times more scientists than the national programs.

One of the key findings is that the Chinese government has established more than 600 ‘talent-recruitment stations’ around the world. These stations are essentially contractual arrangements between parts of the Chinese government and overseas organisations and companies. The overseas organisations receive up to A$30,000 for general operating costs each year, and large bonuses for each individual they recruit. And numbers are growing. The report identifies 146 in the United States, 57 each in Germany and Australia, and more than 40 each in the UK, Canada, Japan and France.

All countries seek to attract talent from abroad, but there are important and concerning features of how the Chinese state does so. The recruitment programs aim to make deals with individual researchers rather than institutions, which makes it easier for partnerships to fly under the radar. The programs also allow researchers to keep their original job while taking up a second job in China, which can contravene the employment and IP regulations of target universities unless properly managed. Taken together with the quick path China can offer to commercialising research, the incentives for academics are clear.

It’s important to note that many who join the Chinese government’s talent recruitment programs don’t break any rules. They sign a contract to work at a university in China, leave their job and move to China. The flow of talent between countries is a normal feature of the international research community.

However, cases like that of Charles Lieber and others analysed in the report highlight how some recruits are attempting to juggle their original job with multiple positions in China.

Large numbers of recruits may be failing to accurately disclose conflicts of interest and external employment, raising concerns about potential foreign interference and misuse of public funds. In the United States, 54 scientists lost their jobs after the National Institutes of Health raised concerns about potential failures to disclose foreign funding. China was the source of funding in nearly all cases. An investigation by Texas A&M University found that more than 100 of its staff or visiting scholars were linked to Chinese government recruitment programs and only five had disclosed those ties. More than 20 scientists have been charged by the US government for crimes related to talent-recruitment activity, including visa fraud, grant fraud and economic espionage. Entrepreneurship is also an important component of China’s talent-recruitment efforts, and some participants seek to commercialise research in China without disclosing it.

Hunting the phoenix shows that misconduct and hidden technology transfers are a feature of Chinese government recruitment efforts, rather than a problem it’s trying to stamp out. Chinese government agencies that oversee talent recruitment, such as the State Administration of Foreign Experts Affairs, have themselves been implicated in espionage. The recruitment programs incentivise and enable economic espionage. In one case, Chinese intelligence officers used a Thousand Talents Plan scholar to steal aviation technology from the United States.

The Chinese government has failed to acknowledge the concerning activities associated with its talent programs. In fact, its recruitment programs have only become more secretive and covert in recent years.

The Chinese government’s talent-recruitment efforts are global, raising similar concerns in all developed nations. It’s likely that thousands of scientists and engineers have been recruited from the UK, Germany, Singapore, Canada, Japan, France and Australia since 2008. The lack of public prosecutions or misconduct cases linked to talent-recruitment activity in those countries is likely due to the early stage of their awareness of the implications of these recruitment programs.

The good news is that the host-country risks for China’s recruitment programs can often be addressed by better enforcement of existing regulations, backed up by stronger analytical capabilities. Much of the misconduct associated with talent-recruitment programs that has been uncovered to date breaches existing laws, contracts and institutional policies.

But the fact that it still occurs at high levels points to a failure of compliance and enforcement mechanisms across research institutions and relevant government agencies. Governments and research institutions must work together to build both awareness of CCP talent-recruitment work and the capabilities to investigate and respond to it.

The report recommends measures such as increasing resourcing to agencies responsible for compliance and enforcement, integrating public disclosure requirements for foreign funding into all research grant and funding processes, and setting up national research integrity offices to link the efforts of the government and tertiary sectors.

This kind of institutional transparency building is critical to disrupting uncontrolled technology transfers to China and to helping science and technology researchers understand the national-security risks that can lie beneath the surface of China’s talent-recruitment programs.

Xinjiang provides a window on Hong Kong’s future

The arrest of Hong Kong media figure Jimmy Lai on 10 August and the subsequent police raid of the offices of his Apple Daily news company sent a clear signal of how Beijing intends to use the new national security law to bend the population of Hong Kong to its will.

It’s unsurprising that Chinese authorities have Hong Kong’s independent media at the top of their list of targets for the new legislation. Local media coverage of protests in Hong Kong since 2019 not only played a role in sustaining the pro-democracy movement through saturation coverage, but also acted as a constraining influence on the actions of local security services.

If Lai’s arrest proves to be the first step in a campaign by Beijing to throw a shroud over events in Hong Kong—by using the new law’s ambiguously worded offences—then the environment in Hong Kong will change fundamentally.

And, given that events in Hong Kong over the past year have arguably threatened Beijing’s authority, one only has to look at what’s been happening in Xinjiang to predict how the situation might unfold in Hong Kong over the next decade.

Comparisons between Xinjiang and Hong Kong have already been drawn by long-time China watchers, who see Xinjiang as the proverbial canary in the coal mine. Clearly, Hong Kong is not Xinjiang, not the least because of the profile of Hong Kong on the international stage. The influence of Hong Kong’s diaspora communities far exceeds the influence or voice of the global Uyghur diaspora. There’s also a deeply ingrained anti-Muslim sentiment and potentially racism at the heart of Beijing’s treatment of its Uyghurs that isn’t a factor in Hong Kong. And not even the most foolhardy of commentators would suggest that Beijing intends to roll out a Xinjiang-style program of mass internment of Hong Kong’s population.

Nevertheless, comparisons of Hong Kong and Xinjiang are valid because both regions are viewed by Beijing as threats to its authority. In this context, the experiences of the Uyghurs and other Turkic Muslim minorities in Xinjiang provide a cogent case study on how Beijing deals with perceived security threats that might help us understand the potential future of Hong Kong.

In the case of Xinjiang, Beijing has arguably not faced a genuine separatist threat there since the People’s Republic of China absorbed the Second East Turkestan Republic in 1949. Yet, since 2016 it has used the pretext of Uyghur separatism and terrorism to conduct an escalating campaign of persecution that has mutated into a program of genocide involving mass incarceration, forced labour, forced sterilisation of Uyghur women and organ harvesting from detainees.

The protests in Hong Kong over the past year, on the other hand, have rocked the foundations of Beijing’s authority, and the relative moderation of Beijing’s response so far stands in stark contrast to the brutality of its treatment of Muslim minorities in Xinjiang. But Hong Kong is now seeing the start of a more oppressive and brutal response from Beijing.

Importantly, a number of ingredients that were critical to Beijing’s ambitions in Xinjiang are present, or becoming apparent, in Hong Kong.

First, Beijing benefited from pervasive electronic surveillance infrastructure and the ability to deploy an overwhelming physical security presence across Xinjiang. Much of the technical infrastructure required for pervasive electronic surveillance is already in place in Hong Kong. And since the introduction of the new security law, Beijing has also started augmenting its police and security intelligence presence in Hong Kong.

Second, Beijing was able to almost completely curtail the media’s ability to directly chronicle the events unfolding in Xinjiang. Our understanding of the situation in Xinjiang has relied on rare first-hand accounts of witnesses, occasional disclosures of official documents outlining the details of Beijing’s anti-Uyghur program, scrutiny of government contracts and procurement, and satellite imagery.

The paucity of information has enabled Beijing to counter reports of human rights abuses with claims that the reports are fabricated or merely anti-Chinese propaganda, and mount personal attacks against some of the more prominent commentators on the plight of Xinjiang’s Muslims. If the arrest of Lai is the first step in a campaign to extinguish free media in Hong Kong, it won’t be long until Beijing is able to dictate the media narrative in Hong Kong in the same way it does in Xinjiang. To paraphrase the Washington Post’s masthead, human rights die in darkness.

Third, Beijing has been allowed to act in Xinjiang with relative impunity. While some commentators were encouraged by Washington’s decision in early July to target Chinese officials responsible for human rights abuses in Xinjiang with sanctions under the Magnitsky Act, there was no real cause for optimism. The symbolism of these sanctions was largely lost in the noise surrounding Washington’s increasingly toxic relationship with Beijing and ultimately their impact will likely be so inconsequential as to be meaningless.

And even when 22 countries issued a statement condemning Beijing’s treatment of its Uyghur minorities in mid-2019, almost twice as many countries were prepared to commit their names to a register of shame praising Beijing’s ‘remarkable achievements in the field of human rights’.

Chinese investment bought the silence and complicity of a large number of states with regard to the human rights abuses it is perpetrating in Xinjiang. And, despite the strength of the Hong Kong diaspora and Hong Kong’s status as a technologically advanced global financial hub, it’s possible that Chinese money will also buy the silence of other countries if Beijing embarks on a brutal campaign to bring the Hong Kong populace to heel. Already, 53 countries have voiced their support for Hong Kong’s national security law, eerily echoing earlier support for Beijing’s campaign in Xinjiang.

But there is a further aspect to Hong Kong that differentiates it from Xinjiang, and which may prove to be the primary determinant of its future. Hong Kong’s vibrant, innovative and cosmopolitan population has a long tradition of active political and social participation, public mobilisation and debate on issues affecting Hong Kong society.

Hong Kong, along with Taiwan, is a model of Chinese society that is free, vibrant, engaged and wealthy. By its very existence, Hong Kong stands as a direct rebuke to the hyper-intolerant, oppressive and totalitarian regime in Beijing.

Hongkongers, then, present a much more fundamental threat to the enduring authority of Beijing than the Uyghurs of Xinjiang ever have, and will likely be treated accordingly.

Huawei could pose a challenge for Australia in Papua New Guinea

The presence of Chinese telecommunications giant Huawei has not been challenged in Papua New Guinea as it has been in Australia, the United States, the United Kingdom and other countries.

Despite a recent embarrassing setback, reported on by the Australian Financial Review, Huawei has positioned itself well to benefit from the likely full or partial privatisation by the PNG government of a number of underperforming state-owned enterprises.

With a loan from Exim Bank of China, PNG commissioned Huawei to build a national data centre in Port Moresby at a total cost of around A$75 million.

PNG Communications Minister Timothy Masiu told the AFR that his government should not have to repay the loan because the data centre is a failed investment, barely works and may have to be shut down.

That will not have gone down well in Huawei’s headquarters, or in the very large and influential Chinese embassy in Port Moresby.

It’s a setback for Huawei, but it remains to been seen whether it will have an impact in PNG beyond one unhappy minister.

The company is well entrenched in the communications sector of Australia’s closest neighbour. It works closely with the state-owned Telikom PNG, an underperforming operation that will probably be first in line for full or partial sale if the cash-strapped government proceeds down that path. Huawei also provides mobile phones and other equipment to operators in the rapidly growing PNG marketplace.

Two years ago, Huawei had another setback in PNG when the Australian government stepped in to block a plan, initiated by Solomon Islands, for the company to build a submarine cable connecting the Solomons, PNG and Australia.

Australia funded the cable’s construction at a cost of around $150 million—a wise investment given the access such a project might provide.

But Huawei was not prevented from building the domestic cable network delivering internet and other telecommunications services to provincial centres around PNG.

That involved another Chinese loan that will have to be repaid. PNG Telikom is believed to have incurred massive debts to China and its capacity to repay them in a very difficult economic environment is just about zero.

In fact, the debt-trap diplomacy strategy pursued by China in developing countries is going to hit PNG hard at a time when its ability to repay Exim Bank of China and other lenders is severely restricted.

Prime Minister James Marape’s government has not yet reached an agreement with an International Monetary Fund–led consortium (which includes Australia) to cover the cost of this year’s budget shortfall. Because the economy is in dire straits, state revenue has collapsed and it’s highly likely that deficit financing for 2020, and probably for 2021 and beyond, will mean substantial cuts to basic services and the public-sector workforce.

It will almost certainly be necessary for the national government to begin the often talked about, but never delivered, sale of state-owned businesses. If that happens, Telikom PNG will be high on the list.

Huawei appears to have a long-term strategy in PNG and the data centre debacle is likely to be but a temporary setback.

The company remains well connected at the highest levels of the PNG government. There’s absolutely no debate in government, parliament or the media about the wisdom of its growing communications presence. Even in PNG’s robust social media environment, debate about its role is limited.

If Telikom PNG is privatised, Huawei will be well placed to join the race to buy it. The dilemma for Huawei might be that the larger communications provider, Digicel, which has a strong presence across the South Pacific and in PNG, might be up for sale as well.

If PNG started a serious sale of its state enterprises, the Australian government would need to watch it closely, and almost certainly get engaged. The most obvious way it could do so would be to provide financial support for Australian companies to buy strategic and viable assets in PNG, and PNG Telikom would have to be one of them.

Another important asset is Air Niugini, but given the state of international travel, buying into airlines might be a hazardous option.

The path towards any asset sales won’t be straightforward, but it might be inevitable despite limited political and community support.

If the sales do proceed, the PNG government will have to secure the highest possible prices and paying top dollar might prove a problem for Chinese entities.

Australia is going to have to play a significant role in any debt financing and structural adjustment program for PNG, though it would be led by the IMF and the World Bank.

Any PNG agreement with the IMF must include a transparent process for asset sales that flow from such a deal. Australia needs to insist on nothing less.

But we will have to be prepared to look seriously at supporting Australian companies’ bids for strategic assets—and that means providing concessional finance. Communications assets must be a priority.

Iran and China set to hasten slowly on stalled strategic partnership

Iran is considering an offer from Beijing to revive an agreement which, combined with an enhanced security and military relationship, could give China a new strategic foothold in the Middle East.

In early July, Iranian Foreign Minister Javad Zarif told Iranian MPs that an Iran–China 25-year strategic cooperation agreement was ‘under consideration’. This is not a new initiative but the renewal and update of a ‘comprehensive strategic partnership’ document signed by Iranian President Hassan Rouhani and Chinese Premier Xi Jinping in Tehran in January 2016.

Few details about the 2016 partnership and the 17 accords which Xi also signed then were ever disclosed. Reportedly, the document was a roadmap for upgrading the bilateral relationship and involved some US$600 billion in two-way trade and investment over the following 10 years. Iranian exports to China were identified as primarily oil, gas and other petrochemical products. China is Iran’s major trading partner and oil is Iran’s primary export to China. Chinese investment in Iran would focus on energy, manufacturing and transportation with road, rail and port projects linked to China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI).

The implementation of the partnership and related investment was dependent on the lifting of global sanctions against Iran and was timed to occur shortly after the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) took effect on 16 January 2016.

China appears to have put much of the 2016 agreement on hold after signing. Its principal reason would have been the need to work through the complexities of its relationship with the US, especially after Donald Trump’s election as president and given his hostility to the JCPOA. That became even more complex after the withdrawal of the US from the agreement in May 2018 and its imposition of unilateral sanctions.

Zarif has so far disclosed little detail about the renewed agreement. From information available so far, in addition to trade and investment, it also includes security, military and intelligence cooperation. Two-way trade and investment is valued at US$400 billion, with China investing some US$280 billion in Iran’s energy sector and US$120 billion in transport, telecommunications and manufacturing. A major mutual benefit is China’s guarantee to buy Iranian oil for 25 years, reportedly at a discount price, and Iran’s guarantee to supply it—assuming there’s sufficient long-term stability in the Middle East to allow that to happen.

For Iran, the renewed partnership would provide a significant and desperately needed economic lifeline that it would hope would circumvent crippling US sanctions. Bilateral offset financial arrangements would enable the trading of Iran’s major export resource, oil, without involving the international banking and financial system. Iran’s economy would also benefit significantly from upgraded and new industries, and the jobs they’d create.

For China, the  multiple benefits would include the long-term guaranteed supply of oil at a discounted price, the use of Iran as a hub to progress the BRI land transportation corridor between Western China and Turkey, and marketing and manufacturing opportunities for Chinese goods. That would happen, in many cases, at the expense of the Europeans, who are severely constrained or intimidated by the US sanctions.  This would demonstrate that, despite its tensions with the US, China is still able both to successfully pursue its geopolitical and economic interests and to secure this new strategic foothold.

The timing of Zarif’s announcement, presumably agreed to by the Chinese, was undoubtedly calculated to rattle the US cage, and especially to unsettle Trump this close to the November presidential elections. One major message from Iran is that it can survive, despite Trump’s ‘maximum pressure’ campaign to force regime change.

Responding to Zarif’s announcement, US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo said in an interview on 2 August that China’s action would ‘destabilise the Middle East’. He said arms and money from China would enable Iran to continue as ‘the world’s largest state sponsor of terror’ and, particularly, to put Israel, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates at risk. These three countries were singled out because of their growing relationships with China, and the pressure they could put on China to limit the scope of its agreement with Iran.

China and Iran may hasten slowly to implement the agreement. Both are likely to hold back on many detailed aspects until the outcome of the US presidential election is known. Critical considerations for Iran will be whether the US rejoins the JCPOA, and, if so, under what conditions, and whether US sanctions will be lifted.

Iran also will reject any aspect of an agreement with China that suggests any ceding of sovereignty of land or major national resources, or any potential debt trap, as has occurred with other countries. Strict boundaries of sovereignty are enshrined in Iran’s constitution. Iran also will insist that any new infrastructure projects employ Iranian labour and are not, as occurs elsewhere, outsourced to imported Chinese labour.

China’s political, economic and strategic interests in the Middle East are very much regional, and Beijing will be careful not to alienate others and prejudice its broader interests through its dealings with Iran. It will heed representations by Saudi Arabia, the UAE, other Gulf states and Israel, and seek to strike an acceptable balance of respective interests.

On 6 August, Al Jazeera cited Indian media reports that India’s relationship with Iran may be a casualty of the renewed agreement with China. The report claimed that Iran had dropped plans for India to build a railway line between the port city of Chabahar and Zahedan, near the Afghan border. When completed, the project would have provided India with a trade route to Afghanistan and Central Asia. It would also have competed with China’s proposed trade to these countries along BRI-upgraded routes through Pakistan.

Pending clarification of the Indian reports, it seems unlikely that Iran would sacrifice its longstanding relationship with India. As for China, it will seek to balance its interests.

It’s time to take an alliance-based approach to securing rare-earths supplies

China has dominated the world’s supply of rare-earth elements for decades. Over the past year, however, there has been a growing recognition among the US and its allies (including Australia, South Korea, Japan and India) that sources of critical minerals outside of China need to be secured and that solutions need to be driven by governments rather than market forces, particularly since demand for these materials will skyrocket in the near future.

Recent tensions in the Australia–China relationship have made the need to diversify rare-earths production even more pressing. China currently produces 90% of the world’s rare earths, so its dominance won’t be shifted overnight. This underscores the urgency for Australia and its allies to minimise the risks of over-reliance.

One of the greatest challenges for rare-earths projects, particularly compared to other key Australian exports such as iron ore and coal, is getting upfront financing. Investment is spread thin among a plethora of small investors, creating barriers to market entry for substantial projects. This creates risks that are prohibitive for single investors in the absence of government backing. The scale of the investment problem suggests that allied governments need to work together on providing financing for exploration, mining and processing if they are to develop adequate new supply chains.

There have been promising developments on the domestic front. Defence Minister Linda Reynolds signalled the possibility of increased government support to get rare-earths projects off the ground, considering the immense value they hold for defence applications. Each of Australia’s F-35 fighter jets, for example, contains 417 kilograms of rare-earth elements; most technology applications require only a minute amount. China recently sanctioned Lockheed Martin, restricting its access to the rare-earths supplies needed to produce key parts. Actions like this accelerate the need to take an alliance-based approach.

Elsewhere in government, the Department of Industry, Science, Energy and Resources released a critical minerals strategy last year and established the Critical Minerals Facilitation Office. These are steps in the right direction, particularly if there’s close collaboration with the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade as well as Austrade to tap into their wealth of knowledge on promoting trade opportunities and acting as a facilitator. But in the face of the increasing supply-chain risk, there needs to be more decisive action.

A roadblock to greater allied cooperation right now is the political situation in the US. There have been rumblings among some Republican members of Congress that government funding and support should be given only to US companies. For a commodity like rare earths, this is not a viable or appropriate path to take. China’s strength in rare earths comes from its grip on both upstream and downstream processes. While one ally may not be able to assume all the risks of funding and establishing rare-earths projects, they can mitigate these risks by working together.

Rather than just focusing on securing supply locally, the US should move towards incorporating its local fabrication into a broader international strategy of close cooperation. When Japan’s supply of rare-earth minerals was cut off by China in 2010 as bilateral relations deteriorated, it pursued a strategy of international cooperation to deal with the crisis. We are not at crisis point yet, but we shouldn’t allow it to get to that stage before pursuing a similar strategy and consolidating a joint allied approach.

Some of this cooperation is already happening. Lynas, an Australian-owned company that runs one of the most significant rare-earths mining projects outside of China, has received support from international counterparts, including an initial investment of US$250 million from Japan in 2010. More recently, Lynas has partnered with US company Blue Line to build the first facility for processing heavy rare earths outside of China, located in Texas. This is a sign that roadblocks in the US political system aren’t going to be as hard to overcome as originally thought.

Australian rare-earths miner Arafura Resources is piloting a project that will see its minerals processed in Colorado in a partnership with US company USA Rare Earths. Arafura is ready to supply significant amounts of key rare-earth elements, including neodymium and praseodymium, which are used in magnets and aircraft engines, but needs greater visibility and investment to do so. Other projects in Australia face similar hurdles.

These partnerships should be encouraged through advocacy by Australian government officials in strategic locations. Australia’s ambassador to the US, Arthur Sinodinos, indicated that he has been advancing the Lynas case with the US Congress and the White House. This support needs to be broadened and include a push against US-only policies on rare earths, which do not serve the wider agenda of minimising over-reliance on supplies from China.

For its part, the Australian government should look towards becoming an investor in this sector if it is serious about developing a rare-earths supply chain independent of China. Looking even deeper into the future, investment should be made in exploring more sustainable ways of processing rare earths so the country that’s hosting processing facilities doesn’t bear the environmentally destructive impacts of processing.

Australia and close allies on this issue are at a critical juncture. The aftermath of Covid-19 will have far-reaching impacts on the global economic situation but also offers the opportunity to remake vital supply chains. Securing the rare-earths supply chain through investment featured prominently in the recent joint AUSMIN statement, signalling its importance to the US–Australia relationship. But more robust advocacy is needed, and Australia should now take the lead in convening a high-level meeting with key allies to kickstart viable alternatives for rare-earths supplies.

Dino Patti Djalal: Indonesia wants restraint in the South China Sea

Indonesia appreciated being comprehensively briefed on Australia’s recent defence strategic update before it was announced, says seasoned diplomat and politician Dr Dino Patti Djalal.

The former deputy foreign minister, who now heads the Foreign Policy Community of Indonesia think tank, told ASPI’s online ‘Strategic Vision 2020’ conference that the world was living in ‘a hot peace environment’ with relations among the major powers deteriorating and many potential flashpoints.

Interviewed by journalist Stan Grant, Djalal said he was very pleased that Australia explained its plans to Indonesia. He said that contrasted dramatically with the 2011 announcement that Australia would host US marines in Darwin.

He remembered well being with President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono in Hawaii when journalists asked them what they thought about the US sending marines to Darwin. ‘He looked at me and I had the stupidest look on my face. We did not know about this. We were not told and consulted by the Americans or by the Australians. That was a big lesson.’

Djalal said it was important that the update contained no suggestion that Indonesia was a threat to Australia, ‘Because that was always there in the past. Somehow, Indonesia is seen as some kind of a threat.

‘But I think this document makes it clear that Indonesia is a strong partner for Australia in addressing security issues in the region.’

He said Indonesians were not comfortable seeing defence spending rising around them, as with record levels in the US. ‘We don’t like to see hot peace combined with some sense of an arms race.’

Indonesia favoured soft power and diplomacy. Australia and Indonesia could cooperate on peacekeeping, Djalal said.

Indonesia did not intend to spend more on defence, especially with the pandemic. ‘We are going to need a lot of resources for economic and cultural development’, Djalal said.

Military development had to be accompanied by confidence-building measures, and that was not happening.

On Indonesians’ view of Australia, Djalal observed, ‘I’m out of government, so I can say this, but there’s still some wild conspiracy theories about Australia within the Indonesian body politic.’ Many Indonesians blamed Australia for promoting East Timorese independence. Some felt the deployment of US troops to Darwin was part of some bad strategic design towards Indonesia ‘which obviously is not the case’.

Indonesians loved conspiracy theories, Djalal said. ‘There’s still a bit of that, but the important thing is that the overall structure of the relationship now has changed. The feel between the leaders, the relations between the institutions, the degree of strategic trust between the two sides, this is unlike anything that we have ever seen before in terms of Indonesia–Australia relations.’

That could be affected by issues, he said, as when he discovered via Wikileaks that he and his president were among Indonesians being spied on by an Australian security agency.

At the same time, many Australians were unaware that Indonesia was a thriving democracy.

Now, he said, there was a ‘psyche of partnership’ between Indonesia and Australia. Of all Western countries, Australia knew Indonesia best and had the most invested in having good relations with it.

Indonesian and Australian diplomats worked well together, Djalal said. When he was ambassador to Washington, his best partner was Kim Beazley. ‘Indonesian and Australian diplomats always call each other. Always go to coffees and discuss issues and how to work together.’

This year, Djalal was asked which country Indonesia had grown closer to in the past five years and he responded, ‘China.’

He explained that while relations between Indonesia and China ‘froze’ decades ago, they had improved to the point where China was now Indonesia’s largest trading partner and export market. ‘Chinese diplomats are very active in Indonesia’, he said. Many Chinese tourists visited Indonesia each year and there were now more Indonesian students studying in China than in the US. ‘The number one is still Australia, but China is second after that.’

Ministerial consultations were routine and frequent, Dijlal said. ‘So, I think relations with China have dramatically and significantly intensified, particularly in the last five years or so.’

Dijlal said the driver was economic. China moved very fast on trade, he said. ‘Two decades ago, they were nowhere to be seen, but now they’re one of the biggest investors in Indonesia.’

The relationship was multidimensional and had varying levels of intensity. ‘But if you look at the metrics economically and politically, these are two different things. The Chinese have some difficulties in terms of public reception in Indonesia—the Chinese workers, for example. And then politically on the Natuna issue.’

Indonesia has named the area around its Natuna Islands the ‘North Natuna Sea’. This body of water embraces the southernmost part of the South China Sea and lies within the ‘nine-dash line’ which Beijing says marks out its territory.

Djalal said China’s claim over those waters had raised serious discomfort in Indonesia.

Grant noted that an Indonesian naval vessel had, in 2016, fired warning shots to drive Chinese fishing vessels away from the islands. Djalal responded that this was something new in the last five years. ‘But before that, the Chinese tended to be shy’, he said.

‘But then after 2014 onward, the Chinese seem to be pushing it to our face that, “Hey, we got some claims, they may be overlapping within the nine-dash line”.

‘Our position is very clear that there’s no need to negotiate. There’s no dispute because we don’t recognise the Chinese claims. We don’t recognise the nine-dash line.’

Indonesia did not believe China’s claims were consistent with international law. ‘The one thing that’s different is that the Chinese seem to be more assertive and pushing that issue into our diplomatic relations, but we’re holding tight to our position that we do not recognise that there is an overlap’, Djalal said.

‘With regard also to the rest of the South China Sea, there is a pathway to its resolution or its management through the discussion on the ASEAN–China code of conduct, which is now going on.

‘We don’t support any claims by the claimants and we want peaceful negotiations among them. We want them to exercise self-restraint, not just China but also the other ASEAN claimants, and we want to finalise the code of conduct negotiations.’

Djalal said Indonesia, like other ASEAN nations, had a lot invested in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea because its national territorial structure was embedded in that convention.

‘But this has added urgency now that you have more maritime disputes. And with China, again, pushing the nine-dash line strongly and more assertive behaviour, there needs to be a basis of understanding on how to move forward with this.’

The UN convention provided very clear rules and China had agreed to them, so that was the best basis on which to move forward, he said.

Asked about rising tension between the US and China, Djalal responded that as a Southeast Asian, he was not comfortable with Washington’s tone on China. President Donald Trump was very harsh on China. ‘We have our differences with China, but I think the tone from the US, I’m not comfortable with. I think many Southeast Asians find it disagreeable as well, even though we don’t say it out loud.’

Australia’s position on China had also become harsher, Djalal said. ‘I think there’s a tendency at China bashing in certain quarters in the Western world. This is qualitatively different from how Southeast Asians see China. So, I think that needs to be recognised.’ He said greater finesse was needed in dealing with China.

Djalal said that if Joe Biden won the US election, he would be tough on China but his administration would not play such a strong blame game and its approach would be more sophisticated.

Policy, Guns and Money: internet security, tech firms in Hong Kong and global trust in China

In this episode, Tom Uren of ASPI’s International Cyber Policy Centre speaks to Sean Duca from cybersecurity company Palo Alto Networks about Tom’s report examining how internet service providers can defend the undefendable. They discuss how ISPs can do more to protect users from online threats.

Louisa Bochner and Elise Thomas from our cyber team then discuss what the future might look like for multinational tech companies operating in Hong Kong and the challenges they face as China’s Great Firewall descends on HK.

And The Strategist’s Brendan Nicholson speaks to the head of ASPI’s defence, strategy and national security program, Michael Shoebridge, about the increasing value being placed on trust globally, and the deficit in China’s trust account with the world.

Trump versus his Uyghur policy

Last month, US President Donald Trump signed into law a bill allowing him to impose sanctions on Chinese officials involved in the mass incarceration of more than one million Uyghurs and members of other largely Muslim minorities in the western Chinese region of Xinjiang. The bipartisan Uyghur Human Rights Policy Act of 2020 (UHRPA) condemned the abuses and called on the Chinese authorities to close their ‘vocational education’ centres in the region immediately, ensure respect for human rights, and allow people living in China to re-establish contact with family, friends and associates outside the country.

In theory, Trump could show genuine global leadership by implementing the act vigorously. Researchers in many countries have reported that, in addition to detention, Uyghurs are being subjected to torture, forced labour and sterilisation. And two Uyghur groups have accused the Chinese authorities of physical and cultural genocide in a complaint filed with the International Criminal Court.

Anne Applebaum has compared Western indifference to what is happening in Xinjiang today with the wilful determination of European governments and the Vatican to ignore the famine Joseph Stalin engineered in Ukraine in 1932–33, and the Nazi concentration camps a decade later. One might add more recent examples to the list. Viewed against this background, the United States’ willingness to condemn China’s behaviour and impose costs for it, even if only with individual sanctions, is a step in the right direction.

Moreover, this step might well gain the attention of Muslims in countries like Pakistan, Indonesia and Turkey. The Pakistani and Indonesian governments are willing to play by Chinese rules in order to secure investment; Pakistan signed a letter last year defending China’s treatment of Uyghurs, while the Indonesian government says that it ‘will not meddle in the internal affairs of China’. Turkey initially offered Uyghurs asylum in the 1950s when Chinese communists took over Xinjiang. Today, Turkish police are reportedly arresting Uyghur activists and sending them without explanation to deportation centres, sometimes for months.

In this context, a broad US-led effort to hold the Chinese government even partly to international account for its treatment of Uyghurs—particularly at a time when America is having to reckon with its own current and past racist crimes—could mark an important turning point. At the very least, it would remind China that the world is watching.

Sadly, Trump’s actions will likely convince Muslims only of the depths of his hypocrisy. Trump signed the UHRPA on the same day that allegations contained in his former national security adviser John Bolton’s new book were flooding the airwaves. According to Bolton, Trump was not merely indifferent towards Uyghurs’ human rights, but actively encouraged Chinese President Xi Jinping to build concentration camps to hold them.

Then there are Trump’s own Muslim travel bans. The initial ban, issued in January 2017, barred all refugees and immigrants from several predominantly Muslim countries from entering the US; the measure was struck down by the courts and then revised several times until it passed constitutional muster. Since then, numerous stories have emerged demonstrating the devastating and potentially life-threatening impact of these restrictions on refugees, Muslims and non-Muslims living in the designated countries.

One of those affected is Afkab Hussein, a former Somali refugee now living in Columbus, Ohio. Afkab has been waiting since 2015 for his wife and young children to join him in the US, but Trump’s bans have prevented them from doing so. Trump’s support for a law that calls on the Chinese authorities to permit re-establishment of contact between people in China and outside the country therefore rings hollow.

The UHRPA also accuses the Chinese government of ‘using wide-scale, internationally-linked threats of terrorism as a pretext to justify pervasive restrictions on and serious human rights violations’ against Uyghurs and others in Xinjiang. But Trump’s executive orders seeking to bar Muslims from entering the US included similar clauses.

His first executive order cited the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks on the US as a justification for banning refugees and immigrants from Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria and Yemen, despite the absence of evidence that citizens of any of these countries, much less refugees, carried out the attacks. Subsequent iterations of the ban continued to cite terrorism as a rationale. In practice, however, the Trump administration has merely blocked family members from joining loved ones in the US, and reduced admissions of vulnerable refugees to historically low levels.

The tension between Trump’s belated embrace of Uyghur rights and his all-too-evident dislike of Muslims (unless they are Saudi princes) raises the deeper question of who the ultimate audience is for America’s—or any country’s—foreign policy. Ordinary Muslims can have no doubt about how Trump feels about them, no matter what he might say to their governments. They only have to follow his Twitter feed or watch his press conferences.

Trump is the first US president to disdain normal processes for crafting and vetting official statements, preferring instead to engage directly with US voters and citizens of other countries via social media. But although he has mobilised a large constituency, he has also succeeded in alienating large segments of the public in America and elsewhere. His denigration of entire populations—such as calling Mexicans rapists or Muslims terrorists—resonate louder and longer than any official statements issued by the White House or the US State Department.

It remains to be seen whether those impressions will outlast Trump’s presidency. The US House of Representatives just passed the ‘No Ban Act’, which would repeal the Muslim travel ban and prevent the use of religious discrimination to bar immigrants. And if a new US administration succeeds Trump following November’s presidential election, it will have to address other countries’ governments and citizens with one voice—and without the glaring hypocrisy to which they have grown accustomed.

China’s five-finger punch

As the world struggles to cope with the Covid-19 pandemic, which first emerged in China, Chinese President Xi Jinping is pursuing his quest for regional dominance more aggressively than ever. From the Himalayas to Hong Kong and Tibet to the South and East China Seas, Xi seems to be picking up where Mao Zedong left off, with little fear of international retribution.

The parallels between Xi and the despots of the past are obvious. He has overseen a brutal crackdown on dissent, engineered the effective demise of the ‘one country, two systems’ arrangement with Hong Kong, filled concentration camps and detention centres with Uyghurs and other Muslims in Xinjiang and laid the groundwork to remain president for life.

According to US National Security Adviser Robert O’Brien, ‘Xi sees himself as Josef Stalin’s successor’. Many others have compared Xi to Adolf Hitler, even coining the nickname ‘Xitler’. But it is Mao—the founding father of the people’s republic and the 20th century’s most prolific butcher—to whom Xi bears the closest resemblance.

For starters, Xi has cultivated a Mao-style personality cult. In 2017, the Chinese Communist Party enshrined in its constitution a new political doctrine: ‘Xi Jinping thought on socialism with Chinese characteristics for a new era’. The ideology is inspired by Lenin, Stalin and Mao, but its inclusion in the CCP’s constitution makes Xi the third Chinese leader—after Mao and the architect of China’s modernisation, Deng Xiaoping—to be mentioned in the document. In December, the CCP also conferred upon Xi a new title: renmin lingxiu, or ‘people’s leader’, a label associated with Mao.

Now, Xi is working to complete Mao’s expansionist vision. Mao’s China annexed Xinjiang and Tibet, more than doubling the country’s territory and making it the world’s fourth largest by area. Its annexation of resource-rich Tibet, in particular, represented one of the most far-reaching geopolitical developments in post-World War II history, not least because it gave China common borders with India, Nepal, Bhutan and northernmost Myanmar.

In fact, Mao considered Tibet to be China’s right-hand palm, with five fingers—Nepal, Bhutan and the three Indian territories of Ladakh, Sikkim and Arunachal Pradesh—that China was also meant to ‘liberate’. Mao’s 1962 war against India helped China gain more territory in Ladakh, after it earlier grabbed a Switzerland-sized chunk, the Aksai Chin region.

In April and May, Xi had the People’s Liberation Army carry out a series of well-coordinated incursions into Ladakh, with the intruding forces setting up heavily fortified encampments. He then deployed tens of thousands of troops along the disputed Line of Actual Control with Ladakh, Sikkim and Arunachal Pradesh.

This ‘incredibly aggressive action’, as US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo called it, led to bloody clashes in Ladakh on 15 June, leaving 20 Indian soldiers and an unknown number of Chinese troops dead. (US intelligence agencies believe China suffered more casualties than India, but whereas India has honoured its fallen as martyrs, China has refused to divulge its losses.) Despite continuing bilateral efforts to disengage rival forces, the spectre of further clashes or a war still looms.

The CCP has not forgotten about the other two fingers, Bhutan and Nepal. Just as China and India began withdrawing troops from the site of the 15 June clashes, Beijing opened another front in its bid for territorial expansion, asserting a new claim in Bhutan.

In 2017, China occupied the Doklam Plateau—at the intersection of Tibet, Sikkim and Bhutan, and claimed by the latter—following a 73-day military standoff with India, the de facto guarantor of Bhutanese security. Now, China is laying claim to another 11% of the tiny kingdom’s territory, in an area that can be accessed only through Arunachal Pradesh (which Chinese maps already show as part of China). This move advances Xi’s efforts against two of the five fingers simultaneously.

The fifth ‘finger’, Nepal, has been drifting away from India and towards China since it came under communist rule two and a half years ago. China aided the Nepalese communists’ victory, including by unifying rival factions and funding their election campaign. Since then, China has openly meddled in the country’s fractious politics in order to keep the ruling party intact, with its ambassador acting as if she were Nepal’s matriarch.

But being in China’s strategic orbit has done nothing to protect Nepal from the CCP’s territorial predation. Last month, a leaked Nepalese agricultural department report warned that China’s massive road projects have expanded China’s boundary into northern territories of Nepal and changed the course of rivers.

Of course, altering Asia’s water map is nothing new for China. Tibet is the starting point of Asia’s 10 major river systems. This has facilitated China’s rise as a hydro-hegemon with no modern historical parallel. Today, Chinese-built mega-dams near the borders of the Tibetan Plateau give the country leverage over downstream countries.

As the hand metaphor indicates, Tibet is the key to China’s territorial claims in the Himalayan region—and not only because of geography. China cannot claim the five fingers on the basis of any Han ethnic connection. Instead, it points to alleged Tibetan ecclesial or tutelary links, even though Tibet was part of China only when China itself had been conquered by outsiders like the Mongols and the Manchus. China’s current claims are nothing more than a power (and resource) grab.

In other words, the five-fingers strategy, coupled with Chinese expansionism elsewhere, is all about upholding the world’s longest-running autocracy. As long as the CCP—and especially the revisionist Xi—holds a monopoly on power, none of China’s neighbours will be safe.

Jindalee extension will put a constant Australian eye on Melanesia

Hopes and fears about the South Pacific drive Australia’s policy ‘step-up’—along with the great needs of Papua New Guinea and the islands.

The hopes and needs get talked up while the fears quietly shape policy.

See that mix in the defence strategic update announcement that the Jindalee operational radar network (JORN), an over-the-horizon radar, will be extended ‘to provide wide area surveillance of Australia’s eastern approaches’.

‘Eastern approaches’ is a polite way of saying ‘Melanesia’.

Australia wants a constant view of every ship and plane operating in our South Pacific arc. What JORN does today for Australia’s northern and western approaches is to be extended to the east.

The Jindalee network is a wonder of Oz science and engineering, based on research started in the 1950s that became a core project in 1970. If it were suddenly invented tomorrow we’d be agog at the achievement: the perfect all-seeing answer for a nation with its own continent ‘girt by sea’.

Bouncing signals off the earth’s ionosphere, JORN does wide-area surveillance. A high-frequency radio signal is beamed skywards from a transmitter and refracted down from the ionosphere to illuminate a target. The echo from the target travels back to a separate receiver site and data is ‘processed into real-time tracking information’.

In Jindalee’s development phase, milestone moments were when the first ship was detected in January 1983, and an aircraft was automatically tracked in February 1984.

The air force says Jindalee’s range is from 1,000 to 3,000 kilometres, depending on atmospheric conditions.

With favourable conditions in the ionosphere (when the signal keeps bouncing) Jindalee can see a helluva long way. Several decades back, what’s known in my trade as a senior government source told me that Jindalee could sometimes track the Russian Backfire bombers taking off from the airbase at Vietnam’s Cam Ranh Bay. Take that as a boast neither confirmed nor denied, merely underlining that Jindalee is amazing kit.

As Defence Science and Technology puts it: ‘The JORN network is Australia’s first comprehensive land and air early warning system. It not only provides a 24-hour military surveillance of the northern and western approaches to Australia, but also serves a civilian purpose in assisting in detecting illegal entry, smuggling and unlicensed fishing.’

The air force says JORN can detect air targets the size of a Hawk-127 training fighter or larger, and objects on the surface of the water the same size as an Armidale-class patrol boat (56.8 metres long) or larger. Detecting wooden fishing boats is harder, or, in the RAAF’s words, ‘highly unlikely’.

The strategic update announced that the JORN site at Longreach in central Queensland will be expanded to look east as well as north. At the moment, the Longreach transmission station can cover most of Papua New Guinea and further north to the Bismarck Sea.

A new eastern array will be able to sweep around from PNG to cover Solomon Islands, Vanuatu and New Caledonia, probably reaching out as far as Fiji.

The timeline for the build is vague. The update allocates $700 million to $1 billion to ‘Operational Radar Network Expansion’, in the period to 2030. Much of that will be for Jindalee to look towards Melanesia.

Australia wants to turn a constant eye on a South Pacific that is, in a phrase du jour, more crowded and contested. See an islands element in the strategic update’s discussion of an era of state fragility, marked by coercion, competition, grey-zone activities and increased potential for conflict.

A driver for the Jindalee decision is found in an understated sentence in the Pacific chapter of Malcolm Turnbull’s memoir: ‘In recent years, China has been reported as taking an interest in establishing a naval base in variously PNG, Vanuatu and Solomon Islands.’

Those ‘reports’ express what Canberra thinks is a grave new fact: our strategic interests in the South Pacific are directly challenged by China. That galvanising fact casts a deeply different light on Australia’s desire to be the preferred security partner of the islands. It’s a thought about China at the heart of the third paragraph of chapter 1 of the strategic update:

Since 2016, major powers have become more assertive in advancing their strategic preferences and seeking to exert influence, including China’s active pursuit of greater influence in the Indo-Pacific. Australia is concerned by the potential for actions, such as the establishment of military bases, which could undermine stability in the Indo-Pacific and our immediate region.

Link the concerned thoughts in that sentence about ‘establishment of military bases’ and ‘our immediate region’ to express this judgement: Australia thinks China wants a base in Melanesia.

If that fear becomes a reality, Australia will have a constant eye for every ship and plane.