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Most discussions of ‘near-peer’ conflicts in the modern context include some reference to both a ‘resurgent Russia’ and a ‘rising China’. We thought it’d be interesting to compare the navies of the two nations as a case study of broader trends in their defence modernisation efforts. Similar analyses could be conducted for other military branches, but an abundance of open-source data on naval assets and the maritime nature of the Asia–Pacific theatre make navies a sensible place to start.
Figure 1 charts the age of the vessels currently in service with the Russian Navy, separated by category. The ‘large surface combatant’ category includes Russia’s sole aircraft carrier, the Admiral Kuznetsov, and the ‘missile submarine’ category includes both nuclear-armed SSBNs and conventionally-armed SSGNs. (We omitted three ‘special purpose’ submarines.)
Figure 1: Age of the Russian Navy
It’s immediately clear that most vessels in service were built in the waning days of the Cold War; roughly two-thirds of Russia’s current surface combatants and submarines were commissioned between 1985 and 1994. There’s been a recent flurry of activity, but at well below Cold War levels.
Of 21 surface combatants delivered since 2000, 17 are corvettes and four are frigates. Further frigate construction efforts have been hampered since 2014, when Ukraine ceased exporting naval turbines to Russia in retaliation against Moscow’s role in the Crimean crisis. The Russian Navy will be lucky to receive another four frigates by the end of the decade.
Retaining large surface combatants in the fleet has depended on efforts to upgrade and sustain old Soviet-era ships. And Russia’s ambitions for the construction of a new large surface combatant (Leader-class) in the 2020s may never be realised, especially if economic conditions don’t improve.
Russia has commissioned just seven diesel–electric submarines (SSKs) since the end of the Cold War. Problems in the first Lada-class boat (Sankt Peterburg, 2010) resulted in production being suspended after just one launch. The remaining two are expected for completion by 2019, after which a new class is planned. To fill the SSK gap, the Russian Navy accepted six ‘Improved Kilo’ submarines between 2014 and 2016. Foreign sales of the Improved Kilo have provided steady work for shipbuilders: 18 boats have been delivered to foreign navies since the late 1990s.
Nuclear-powered attack submarine (SSN) production has been more troubled: since the last of 10 Akula-class SSNs was commissioned in 2000, only one new SSN has entered service: the Severodvinsk (Yasen class). The new submarine was so plagued by problems that the second boat in the class is designated as a new sub-class (Yasen M), and is expected to cost twice as much as the first. The new Borei-class SSBNs have been very successful by comparison: three were delivered in 2013–14, and another six are planned for completion by 2020.
As noted on The Strategist back in November, Russia’s trying to reconcile its plans for significant military modernisation with the harsh economic realities of low oil prices and continuing sanctions. Figure 1 paints a picture of a country that’s struggling to restore its naval industry to even a shadow of its Soviet-era glory.
China stands in stark contrast to Russia’s shipbuilding struggles. Spurred on by its economic growth and a growing maritime consciousness, China’s been building ships at a frenetic pace. Figure 2 shows the pace and scale of the growth of the People’s Liberation Army – Navy (PLAN).
Figure 2: Age of the Chinese Navy
Most of China’s recent builds are surface vessels of various sizes. Since 2000, China has built 19 large surface combatants (destroyers and aircraft carriers) and 63 small surface combatants (frigates and corvettes). Of the 124 surface vessels currently in service, 53% have been built since 2010, at an average of almost nine surface vessels commissioned per year. The PLAN has invested heavily in corvettes to replace its fleet of ageing coastal patrol craft, as well as larger air warfare vessels to enhance its ability to counter airborne threats—an area in which the PLAN has been deficient for decades.
Interestingly, the PLAN’s submarine fleet is adding vessels at a much slower pace. The bulk of its SSKs were built in the 1990s and 2000s, while its SSN and SSBN boats are coming back online after a production pause. While the exact cause or causes of the pause are unclear, it’s likely that they were to either implement new features into the design (the likely addition of a vertical launch system to the Type 093A), or to remedy known defects (China’s nuclear propulsion systems are notoriously underpowered). What’s clear is that China isn’t putting all its eggs in the nuclear-powered basket, as it’s continuing to build SSKs along with SSNs and SSBNs.
The data shows that China is modernising at an incredible rate, and that trend doesn’t appear to be slowing much. Reports suggest that a further eight Type 052D destroyers are to be built by 2020, along with the completion of China’s next aircraft carrier and the continuation of the Type 056/056A corvette line. That’s probably just a taste of what’s to come, although shipyard overcapacity (and subsequent consolidation) mean that it’s unlikely that PLAN shipbuilding will reach the heights seen in the 2010–2014 period.
ASEAN is ever beset by existential angst. The ‘A’ in ASEAN stands for Angst as well as Association. Regard this as more description than criticism. The Angst-Association of South East Asian Nations always has lots to worry about. Angst and anxiety are rational responses.
The questions are constant: can the association hold together? Can it actually do anything? Will ASEAN be crushed as it’s courted by the bigger beasts of Asia? Celebrating its 50th birthday in August, ASEAN pumps out celebration. And, simultaneously, ASEAN engages in one of the things it does best—agonises over tough times and hard choices.
The public tone of the summit of the 10 ASEAN leaders in Manila was set by a quintessentially ASEAN theme: ‘Partnering for Change, Engaging the World’. The not-so-private measure of difficult choices was what the leaders could agree to say about the South China Sea.
ASEAN confronts China’s terraforming: using great walls of sand to create sand castles on rocks and reefs. As usual, ASEAN consensus decreed that the Association speak softly. The torturous travail of the chairman’s statement is the new measure of ASEAN angst, from the low point in 2012 when no statement could be agreed on. In Manila, the statement emerged 12 hours after the summit ended. Dropped from the latest communiqué were references to land reclamation and militarisation from last year’s statement that had been included in earlier drafts of this year’s text. ASEAN’s ‘serious concern’ in 2016 this year dropped to ‘concern’.
For the pundits, it’s just a matter of dusting off the usual headlines about ‘ASEAN in crisis’ or ‘ASEAN’s failure’. As an example, here’s Huong Le Thu with an acid take on ASEAN’s ‘weak unity and low effectiveness in responding to China’s pressure’, on its embrace of ‘de facto appeasement’.
An interesting twist, though, is that ASEAN thinks it’s going to get something from China in return for playing nice and going soft on the Manila communiqué language. The chairman’s statement claims a negotiating win is only months away: ‘We took note of the improving cooperation between ASEAN and China. We welcomed the progress to complete a framework of the Code of Conduct in the South China Sea (COC) by the middle of this year, in order to facilitate the early conclusion of an effective COC.’ China promises a 50th birthday gift.
Give ASEAN a capital letter mark—‘F’ for Framework rather than Fail. ASEAN thinks it’s about to get something Formal from China. Back in November 2002, ASEAN and China agreed on the Declaration on the Code of Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea. After 15 years of negotiation, still no Code, but apparently a Framework is a further step.
No ironic laughter, please, this is interesting—although if the Framework is the new staging point, the Code could take another 15 years. The significance is that ASEAN is in the game and is able to extract something formal from China.
Bear in mind that China’s hardheads still lament the concession to ASEAN centrality involved in that 2002 Declaration. The hard-line view is that Beijing should’ve stuck firmly to dealing bilaterally and separately with other claimants in the South China Sea in order to crush them one by one, never conceding that ASEAN had a right to be at the table.
15 years of negotiation hasn’t achieved a Code of Conduct. And it certainly hasn’t prevented China’s burst of muscular castle creation. What’s been achieved? Talking is always better than not talking, of course: jaw-jaw rather than war-war. Another achievement matters. At every moment in this process—I hesitate to say ‘at every step’—China’s had to engage with ASEAN, accepting the Association’s central place in negotiation on this key regional dispute.
Getting a Framework would be a fresh acknowledgement by Beijing of ASEAN’s role. Then the parsing can start to see if the Framework actually moves one jot beyond the promises in the Declaration 15 years ago. China is set to consolidate the gains made by its new giant sand castles, taking ASEAN acknowledgement of the new facts on the reefs in return for another bit of paper. ASEAN is after firmer promises about no more South China Sea castle-building. The core aim is getting a Framework that’ll mean no new terraforming. ASEAN would concede China’s recent creations in the South China Sea in return for the promise of no new castles. It’s not appeasement if the deal holds.
The recipe guarantees lots more ASEAN angst. Yet the evidence of its 50-year history is that ASEAN will both survive and thrive. China can constrain ASEAN, but it can’t crush it. The Association’s too useful to its 10 members and all the other players in Asia—even China.
ASEAN’s members are relatively weak and the Association must play a weak hand. And before going into the game, ASEAN must always look inward to balance the dynamic among its disparate members. The wonder isn’t ASEAN’s weak hand, but its long-game skill and the leverage it extracts.
All that angst over many decades has taught Southeast Asia a lot about the value of regionalism. One basic ASEAN lesson holds true: hang together or hang separately.
Welcome back; let’s roll.
World Press Freedom Day on Wednesday was marked by the release of the annual World Press Freedom Index, which shows a worsening global situation. (Here’s a run-down on the state-of-play in Asia.) Getting ahead of the curve, Sky’s David Speers last week delivered a keynote at the Press Freedom Australia dinner. His topic, naturally, was fake news. Speaking to the Australian context, Speer implored journos to go ‘back to basics’ and treasure the trust readers place in them. He also had a few choice words on transparency, singling out the oft camera-shy Defence establishment as the worst example in government. ‘When was the last time you saw the Chief of Defence do an interview?’, Speers asked. Well, we’ll have just that here on The Strategist next Wednesday!
An excellent longread from pollster extraordinaire Nate Silver encourages the media to come to grips with the extent to which Hillary Clinton’s race to the Oval Office was damaged by FBI Director James Comey’s October letter to Congress. The tenth article in a series that hopes to unpack the truth behind the biggest political upset of 2016, Silver says that while the letter wasn’t the be-all and end-all of the election results, that the press is still in denial about the fact that the move likely cost Clinton the presidency. Ouch. Comey, of course, this week said the thought of having affected the election outcome makes him ‘mildly nauseous’, testimony which was dissected in The New Yorker and demolished in The NYT.
Here’s China from a few different angles: first, a must-read riposte to a recent lecture delivered by Hugh White (who had a rejoinder of his own). Second, Foreign Policy’s just-released list of the 50 power players in the US and China who are driving the bilateral relationship. Third, a special report recently in The Economist on Beijing’s actions and ambitions in Asia is worth spending some time with. And finally, a corker from The New York Times: Is China the World’s New Colonial Power?
To mark their 20th anniversary, Asia Society Australia are unfolding a collection of 20 essays on Asia and Australia. While Disruptive Asia will receive an official launch in Sydney and Melbourne next month, David Epstein kicked things off in the Fin today by tracking the trend to find Australia’s place in Asia. (Check out his full chapter here.) Asia Society Australia are encouraging everyone play along at home by jumping onto Twitter to contribute under the #DisruptiveAsia hashtag and by subscribing to their newsletter. With 19 more analytical gems to come down the line, this series is one to watch.
And although we’re a day late—something something next year—May the Fourth be with you, dear readers. Take a second to look at this re-upped piece from FiveThirtyEight which charts the relative power of Imperial Forces from the beginning of Rogue One to the conclusion of Return of the Jedi—and shows the aspiring galactic war strategist why you shouldn’t start a ground war on Endor.
Podcast
With the big vote taking place this weekend France has been all over the airwaves. Two podcasts stand out this week, the first from ‘On Point’ (46 mins), featuring Sophie Pedder—The Economist’s Paris bureau chief—and New America CEO Anne-Marie Slaughter. The pair discuss the rise of nationalism and how it affects an increasingly interconnected world. Next up, on the CSIS Podcast (13 mins), Europe program director Heather Conley holds a magnifying glass to round one of the elections, and forecasts what’s next for the European nation.
Videos
Japanophiles can get their fix with a heft of events that have been happening stateside this week. Sasakawa USA pulled together a manel of heavyweights to dive into Asia policy in the time of Abe and Trump (72 mins). Another bunch of dudes had been out in force across town at CSIS the day before, where three esteemed Japanese lawmakers, ably aided by Mike Green, spoke of Japan’s strategy for the Trump administration (86 mins). CSIS also hosted a solid panel (and femme-tastic antidote) looking at US–Japan cyber cooperation and cybersecurity in advance of the Tokyo 2020 Olympics (90 mins).
Footage has emerged (2 mins) this week of the F-35A Lightning IIs taking on the famous Mach Loop Low Flying Area during their first overseas training deployment to Europe. The Mach Loop LFA is a series of valleys in western Wales, and is a go-to training spot for fast jets learning to manoeuvre at low altitudes. (If you’re interested, check out this footage of a A400M Atlas tactical airlifter and some American F-22s strutting their stuff in the Loop).
Events
Canberra: The Annual Civil Society Report Card has played an integral role in grading the government’s progress in implementing the National Action Plan on Women, Peace and Security since its inception in 2012. The fourth Report Card will be launched here in the capital next Thursday, get along to make your voice heard. (For some background reading, don’t look past a recent ASPI Strategic Insights paper which examines the WPS agenda and Australia’s implementation role.)
Melbourne: Worried about the state of democracy around the world? Wondering what all the electoral acrobatics mean? Never fear, because Melbourne Uni VC Glyn Davis will soon moderate a panel that’ll canvass a whole range of crucial issues for the concerned citizen. Details here.
In November 2016, China announced that it had begun building its first floating nuclear power plant, a project called a ‘top priority’ that would boost Beijing’s ‘strong maritime power strategy’. In February 2017, a government spokesperson for science and technology confirmed that a floating reactor would be operational by 2020 to help fuel China’s offshore activities. While a floating nuclear power plant isn’t a new concept, China General Power Corporation (CGN) announced that it could be used for deep-water oil and gas development in the South China Sea. That idea, should it materialise, would dramatically alter the security landscape of maritime Southeast Asia, and would constitute a serious provocation against ASEAN claimant states. Nuclear power plants, floating or otherwise, require security, safety and safeguards. Those requirements would provide justification for Beijing’s further militarisation of the disputed sea, in turn strengthening its illegal presence and claims in the area.
Chinese installations on its artificial islands are currently powered mainly by diesel generators, supplemented by limited solar and wind power. According to the Global Times, Beijing will deploy floating nuclear power plants in the South China Sea by 2020. CGN reports that China’s construction of several 200 MWt small modular nuclear reactors for maritime use, codenamed ACPR50S, are for the supply of electricity, heat and desalination on far-flung islands and for offshore oil and gas exploration. Significantly, part of the budget for the effort comes from the military.
There are several reasons why these deployments should be blocked before they are yet another fait accompli. First, nuclear power plants would justify further militarisation of the area. Any nuclear reactor, on land or the sea, has to be protected. Since maritime Southeast Asia is a hotbed of piracy and other transnational crime, Beijing would be justified in increasing its military and paramilitary presence in the contested South China Sea. The need for securing nuclear reactors could provide an excuse for the Chinese to deploy even more highly armed Coast Guard vessels, and even PLA Navy ships, in addition to radar and weapon systems on artificial islands.
Second, stationing floating reactors within other nations’ exclusive economic zones (EEZs) is illegal. Most of those areas fall under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea-mandated EEZs of littoral ASEAN states. Under section 1 of UNCLOS’s Article 56, and according to the July 2016 ruling of the Arbitral Tribunal constituted in The Hague, only ASEAN littoral states have legitimate EEZs that confer “exclusive” sovereign rights over resources around the Spratlys, and can exercise jurisdiction over activities of foreign entities in the area. And, while freedom of navigation in coastal states’ EEZ is guaranteed under UNCLOS, stationing vessels, such as floating reactors, in another country’s EEZ and continental shelf is a different matter.
Finally, nuclear power plants would provide China an instrument to strengthen its presence in disputed waters and to fence off a body of water considered to be the ‘throat of the world.’ Since floating reactors would likely be deployed to power China’s military installations on its artificial islands, the extra energy would boost the coverage and reach of the PLA’s radar and missile systems in maritime Southeast Asia in ways that couldn’t be done through diesel, solar and wind energy sources. There are also hints that China will declare an Air Defense Identification Zone over the South China Sea once it completes its buildup in the area. Nuclear reactors could provide the Chinese the capability to do so. In addition, the presence of nuclear reactors would boost China’s strategic deterrent, as any armed conflict could lead to nuclear meltdown in an important trade route and sea-lines of communication.
It’s time for Washington to be proactive and forward looking in crafting its Asia policy. America has been largely reactive to events happening in the region over the past few years. From Pyongyang’s nuclear activities to Beijing’s island building, disruptions in Asia’s strategic balance have caught Washington off guard. In essence, these disruptions have become a fait accompli, as nothing tangible, short of war, could be done to reverse them.
The Trump administration should anticipate the possibility that China will deploy nuclear reactors in the South China Sea. That would encourage Washington to develop a strategy to not just cope with the scenario after the event, but also to deter or prevent it from happening.
US leadership is critical. Washington should lead discussions on preventive diplomacy, rally regional public opinion against the issue of floating nuclear plants in an area rich in marine biodiversity, support ASEAN claimants’ call for an effective and binding code of conduct that includes provisions against the presence of nuclear materials on disputed domains, and significantly increase the cost that proceeding has to China’s reputation. Collectively, those actions could compel China to publicly disown the idea.
A successful deployment of nuclear reactors in the South China Sea would be a game-changer. It would dramatically alter the strategic calculus in maritime Southeast Asia to the detriment of the rule of law and of America’s position in the region. The US, its Asian partners and allies, and ASEAN have a strong interest in preventing that from happening.
When considering Australia’s future in Asia, many of us have had difficulty looking beyond China—but we have many better options in Asia. At the core of our misperceptions are six myths about the potential for cooperation with Beijing.
The first myth is that China is driven by a political and business culture broadly compatible with ours where business and politics operate independently. In reality, Chinese business is inseparable from politics because of the omnipresence of the ruling party, to which all other concerns are subservient, even in private enterprises.
The Communist Party leadership sustains its legitimacy by striving to deliver economic progress and restoring the global preeminence the Chinese civilization once enjoyed. Many rules are tilted against foreigners. Corruption is common, intellectual property theft is rife, and there’s no recourse to an independent judiciary.
A second myth is that a substantial liberalisation and democratisation of China is likely. Since he came to power in 2012, Xi Jinping has taken personal control of the primary organs of the state; dissent has been quashed; the ‘Great Firewall’ has been strengthened, drastically curbing access to international information; religious and other organisations have been suppressed and state intervention in the economy has increased. China is a tightly-controlled authoritarian state which treats dissent harshly.
A third myth is that China is not expansionist. In a 2011 address in London, Malcolm Turnbull stated: ‘it is important to note that China’s growth in power, both economic and military, hasn’t been matched by any expansionist tendencies beyond reuniting Taiwan.’ That would come as a surprise to Tibet, Vietnam and the Philippines, let alone the 23 million in the vibrant democracy on Taiwan.
Then there is Beijing’s effective seizure of over 80 percent of the South China Sea, an area about the size of Western Europe from Poland’s eastern border to the English Channel. The Chinese have effectively occupied almost all of the waters from Hainan to Indonesia and Malaysia and they vigorously apply Chinese domestic law there.
A fourth myth is that China generally abides by international law. The Permanent Court of Arbitration on the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea determined unanimously last July that there was no legal basis for China’s claim to historic rights over the resources and areas in the South China Sea. This judgement, carrying the full force of international law, was immediately dismissed by China as ‘null and void.’
In September 2015, when Xi Jinping met President Obama in Washington, he stated that: ‘relevant construction activities that China is undertaking in the Nansha (Spratly) Islands (in the centre of the South China Sea) do not target any country, and China does not intend to pursue militarisation.’
This statement was a falsehood. Finishing touches are now being made to three fighter bases on the islands, each with protected facilities for 24 fighter-bombers and at least four larger aircraft. Missile installations to target ships and aircraft are also nearing completion.
A fifth myth is that Beijing would never interfere in Australian affairs. In reality, China is running substantial programs to influence Australian opinion with the acquisition of nearly all Chinese language publications; the courting of decision-makers, journalists, business executives and academics through fully paid visits to China; substantial contributions to political parties; the establishment of pro-Beijing associations, including 14 Confucius Institutes in Australian universities; the regular insertion of supplements in newspapers; and the organization of ‘patriotic’ demonstrations, concerts, and other events by its embassy, consulates and other pro-Beijing entities. Cyber and intelligence operations reinforce messages, recruit intelligence agents and ‘agents of influence,’ and intimidate, coerce, and deter counter-actions.
Beijing tolerates little foreign involvement in Chinese life but simultaneously conducts intrusive programs overseas.
A sixth myth is that Australia has no choice but to subsume its interests because China is its most important economic partner. China is Australia’s largest trading partner in terms of imports and exports but Australian firms operating in the US earn four times the value of our simple imports and exports across the Pacific and so America is clearly our most valuable economic partner. China is only the seventh largest source of foreign investment in Australia, far behind the US and Europe. In 2015 alone, the US invested more than the entire stock of Chinese investment here.
China isn’t Australia’s most important economic partner and, because of rising production costs, mounting debt and slowing growth, it may never achieve that. Even if it did, taking a ’value-free’ approach of absolute deference to China would be cynical because it would place Australia’s economic interests above all else and put a price tag on our sovereignty. It would also be naïve because China’s appetite for our compliance could never be satisfied.
In order to make the most of the Indo-Pacific century, Australia should certainly cooperate with China where we can and sell a wide range of goods and services there. However, if are to maximize our success and retain our independence, we need to recalibrate risks and turn increasingly to other parts of the region, especially to our ASEAN neighbours and India.
Malcolm Turnbull’s recent visit to Delhi and his enthusiasm for expanded links is an important advance. India and a number of other Asian countries offer more trustworthy governments, more compatible business and legal cultures, higher rates of economic growth and more sustainable political, economic and strategic partnerships.
Recently, a senior Vietnamese official asked Chinese foreign minister Wang Yi in Phnom Penh if negotiations with ASEAN on a South China Sea Code of Conduct (COC) would be completed by the end of the year. Mr Wang and his officials laughed it off, a Southeast Asian diplomat told me. A Vietnamese observer said he felt sorry for ASEAN. ‘They are just using the code of conduct to buy time.’
Chinese cynicism about the COC belies apparent progress. In August 2016—a month after the historic Hague ruling on Manila’s case against Beijing—ASEAN and China agreed on a hotline for maritime emergencies and a joint declaration applying the Code of Unplanned Encounters at Sea to the South China Sea. Last month, Mr Wang said a draft COC had been completed. China will host a meeting with ASEAN in May to come up with a preliminary agreement on a COC framework.
It’s important to note that China’s apparent willingness to accelerate talks on the code comes after 15 years trying to turn the 2002 Declaration of the Code of Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea (DOC) into a COC. But even if China and ASEAN agree on a COC, questions will remain over its effectiveness.
First, it’s not certain what geographical area the COC would cover. Neither is it clear if there’d be a punitive element in it. Second, China uses the COC to deflect criticism over its reclamation and militarisation of maritime features. The most recent effort to push ahead with the COC came a month after the Hague ruling.
The issue is that China is against the idea of a COC and it believes other claimants have not been adhering to the DOC. Speaking to Singaporean journalists in 2012, then-vice foreign minister Fu Ying charged that there was little point in forging ahead with a COC ’when the DOC is not faithfully observed.’ (no matter that China has ignored the fact that its activities in the South China Sea since 2013 far exceed those of the other claimants). Likewise, Foreign Minister Yang Jiechi said in 2014 that China was open to launching discussions on the COC if there was full compliance with the DOC by all parties.
At best, the COC would only put a brake on China’s extensive reclamation and militarisation. No one disputes that ASEAN’s provided much-needed stability and prosperity in the region. But its effectiveness at dealing with ‘hard’ security issues such as the South China Sea, is being challenged. That goes back to 2102 when ASEAN failed to issue a communique on Beijing’s activities in the South China Sea. China was seen to have influenced Cambodia, the ASEAN chair, to stop the release of a statement, underscoring Beijing’s willingness to use friends within ASEAN to achieve its goals.
Indonesia, the putative head of the grouping, appears to have turned inward. Recently, a senior Indonesian official told a group of scholars and businessmen that Jakarta deemed President Donald Trump’s approach to China and the South China Sea to be ‘critical’. But he cautioned that Indonesia would adopt a ‘wait and see’ approach, instead of taking the lead on the disputes. Last month, Indonesian Coordinating Minister for Maritime Affairs Luhut Panjaitan said Indonesia did not envisage joint patrols in the South China Sea with Australia.
Singapore, which has taken an even-handed approach to the South China Sea disputes, stressing the need to comply with international law, came under pressure from China which held nine Singaporean infantry combat vehicles in Hong Kong last year. No wonder, attention has turned to the Trump administration which expressed support for allies such as Japan and South Korea, the adoption of a harder approach towards China and a plan to build up the US Navy.
But by killing the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), Trump has kicked out a key pillar of America’s presence in the Asia-Pacific. Lastly, there seems to be little or no policy innovation when it comes to pushing back China in the South China Sea. If the Obama administration suffered from paralysis from analysis—over-thinking Chinese responses to US actions in the South China Sea—the Trump administration’s paralysis stems from a lack of analysis. Hundreds of positions in the State Department and Pentagon remain unstaffed.
Washington needs to establish a red line at Scarborough Shoal which China seized from the Philippines in 2012. It was reported last month that China will begin work on an environment monitoring station there. The fear is that China will start dredging, followed by militarisation, thus creating a strategic triangle connecting Woody Island, the Spratlys chain and Scarborough Shoal that would dominate most of the South China Sea.
Four years of talk about international law and the need for a rules-based regional order has not stopped Beijing’s building projects there. Earlier this month, it was Trump who enforced Barack Obama’s 2012 red line in Syria, by launching cruise missile attacks at a Syrian airfield which had carried out a chemical gas attack. Given China’s show of strength in the South China Sea, it’s time for Donald Trump to declare of Scarborough Shoal: ‘You shall not pass.’
Australia faces an increasingly crowded and complex geopolitical environment in the South Pacific. While the most important external powers in the region have traditionally been Australia, New Zealand, the US and France, which have long worked together as partners, a number of new powers are increasingly active, most notably China, Russia, Indonesia, Japan and India. South Pacific states, particularly Papua New Guinea and Fiji, are emerging as regional powers to constrain Australian influence. South Pacific states are also becoming more active on the international stage, further taking them outside Australia’s and their other traditional partners’ sphere of influence.
The complex geopolitics of the South Pacific have also generated shifts in the regional order. While the Pacific Islands Forum, of which Australia is a member, remains the pre-eminent regional political and security institution, South Pacific states have been empowered by their greater choice of non-traditional external partners, disenchanted with the Pacific Islands Forum and encouraged by an emboldened Fiji to create or strengthen alternative regional and subregional institutions and organisations that exclude Australia and their other traditional external partners.
Given the proximity and strategic import of the South Pacific, Australia can’t afford to be complacent about these geopolitical challenges and needs to be more aware of and focused on the region. The geopolitical environment in the South Pacific has important implications for us, particularly given our strategic interest in being the region’s ‘principal security partner’ in order to ensure that no power hostile to Western interests establishes a strategic foothold in the region from which it could launch attacks on Australia or threaten allied access or our maritime approaches.
There’s a risk that China’s growing regional activism could generate destabilising competition with the US in the South Pacific, which would have consequences for Australia, both as the region’s near neighbour and because of flow-on effects on its security relationship with the US and economic relationship with China. While that’s unlikely, the perception that external powers are competing for regional influence has opened up global opportunities for South Pacific states, as it has encouraged the belief that they can play competing great powers against each other. Consequently, South Pacific states appreciate that they have more choice as to which external power (or powers) they engage with. Some appear to be taking advantage of this in order to access aid, concessional loans, military support and international influence.
The geopolitical environment in the South Pacific also has implications for Australia’s strategic interest in ensuring stability, security and cohesion in the region. The influx of aid and investment from non-traditional external powers runs the risk of destabilising recipient states. This raises two main challenges for Australia. First, as the region’s principal security partner with a strong sense of responsibility for the region, we’re likely to feel obliged (and be expected by our partners, particularly the US) to respond to serious instability and conflict. Second, the increased presence and activism of non-traditional external powers, particularly China, raises questions about whether they would intervene to protect their interests and investments and, if so, how Australia would respond.
Australians, and particularly the Australian government, need to be more aware of and focused on the South Pacific. Our attention to the region has peaked at moments when the region was perceived to pose an imminent potential threat, such as during the ‘war on terror’, when ‘weak’ states were perceived to be vulnerable to penetration by terrorists or transnational criminals who might have threatened Australia. This motivated us to intervene to attempt to strengthen state institutions in Solomon Islands, PNG and Nauru. Beyond those moments, our foreign and strategic policy in the region has been characterised by unclear, inconsistent and competing interests and intentions, which has reduced its effectiveness and undermined Australia’s influence.
So what should Australia do to ensure that it remains able to pursue its strategic interests? In my report I outline three proposals. First, Australia’s best chance of ensuring that no power hostile to Western interests establishes a strategic foothold in the region, from which it could launch attacks on Australia or threaten allied access or our maritime approaches, is to do more to remain the region’s principal security partner. Second, to ensure that none of the non-traditional external powers active in the South Pacific becomes hostile to Australia’s interests, or more seriously, a source of threat, Australia should try to draw those powers into a more cooperative approach to development and security. Third, Australia should seek to better cooperate with new regional and subregional institutions to ensure that it isn’t marginalised in the changing regional order.
If Australia is going to ensure that it’s able to respond to the complex and crowded geopolitics of the South Pacific, it needs to prioritise the region in a clear, consistent and sustained way in its foreign and strategic policy planning.
Writing recently about Malcolm Turnbull’s decision not to seek ratification of an extradition treaty with China, the journalist Bernard Keane didn’t think it would affect the government’s political position: ‘For a start, it was in foreign policy, an area voters couldn’t care less about’.
He’s probably right. Apart from periods when Australian citizens feel their security threatened by war or terrorists or uncontrolled arrivals by boat, or when they develop an uneasy sense that their leaders are not up to the task of managing the alliance or the neighbourhood, foreign policy in this country has been the preserve and preoccupation of a small elite of politicians, officials, commentators and academics.
Australians have always regarded foreign policy suspiciously. We only got around to ratifying the Statute of Westminster, which established beyond doubt our sovereign identity in the world, in 1942, as Japanese forces headed towards our shores. We were much later coming to it than comparable countries such as Canada and South Africa.
More often than not, in the years that followed, foreign policy has played second fiddle to defence or national security policy. It sits uncomfortably with our national image. It seems vaguely unpatriotic. The stories it tells of lengthy negotiations and backroom deals in distant conference rooms, whatever the value of the product, are hardly the stuff of national mythmaking.
Effective statecraft has many other dimensions, of course—a strong economy, a capable defence force, robust institutions, a resilient society. The role of foreign policy within this broader construct is to expand the space available to the nation state to operate in the international system and maximise the options available to expand its interests and support its values.
It exists at both the macro and the micro-level, embracing fundamental choices like the decision to form an alliance with the United States and the day-to-day efforts of our ambassadors in Mexico or Myanmar to identify points where Australian interests can be pushed or the international positions of our two countries aligned.
Despite the public caution, it turns out that Australia has been quite good at foreign policy over the past 75 years. The evidence is around us: Australia is a secure and prosperous country, largely on good terms with our neighbours, with a solid alliance with the most powerful country in the world, and a productive relationship with China, the most important of the rising states. We have been able to exercise influence at the global level when we have needed to.
Now, however, our policymakers face challenges greater than any I can recall. The post-war global order, established in the Allied war aims set out in the Atlantic Charter, was globalising in its objectives. The institutions of the United Nations and Bretton Woods gave it form. The technologies of the information revolution reinforced it.
But Brexit and the election of Donald Trump are manifestations of a protectionist, counter-globalising mood that is appearing in different manifestations all over the world. In Russia, Japan, China, India and Turkey strongly nationalistic leaders have taken power. Closer to home, President Duterte in the Philippines shows Trump-like characteristics, and President Widodo has a less cosmopolitan worldview than his predecessor in Indonesia.
The empirical data on trade and investment flows, on treaty making and manufacturing point in the same direction. Global Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) was down 13 percent in 2016. Growth in the volume of trade is reducing and values are declining across all markets and product sectors. Non-tariff barriers are rising.
Each of the three strands woven through the foreign policies of every Australian government since the Second World War—an alliance with a great and powerful friend, engagement with the region around us and support for a global order in which the rules, whether of trade or of war, are known, and which we have played a part in setting—is coming under strain.
In this uncertain world foreign policy, pushed to the margins by geo-economics during the 1990s, and by national security concerns after the turn of the century, will find its central place again.
That’s because, better than other dimensions of statecraft, it can deal with ambiguity and uncertainty. It can pick its way through issues ranging from the melting of the Antarctic ice sheets to Donald Trump’s ego. Its sober and calculating traditions of reciprocity will find fresh relevance in what is shaping up as a more transactional world.
If President Trump succeeds in his efforts to cut the diplomatic and aid budget of the State Department by nearly 30 percent we will see a consequential test of whether foreign policy matters. More than 120 retired US three and four-star military officers have written to the Congressional leadership arguing against the proposed cuts on the grounds that ‘elevating and strengthening diplomacy and development alongside defense are critical to keeping America safe’.
The generals are right.
Two visits to Australia by the Chinese leader Li Keqiang illustrate the China sweet-and-sour.
The just-completed trip by Premier Li for the annual leaders’ summit was all about the sweet. Just the fact of the annual talks (won by Julia Gillard) offers oodles of honey: the meeting is the message.
Contrast all the sugar with the sour sharpness when Li Keqiang came to Canberra as Vice Premier in 2009. China had been punishing Oz, kicking and gouging at Prime Minister Kevin Rudd, not least for speaking truth to China in Mandarin.
The tough Australia–China joint statement produced by Li’s 2009 visit is a significant point in the evolution of the state-to-state relationship. I called that document a diplomatic ceasefire, offering my translation of the diplomatese. So clause one, on the ‘great potential and prospects’ of the relationship, was rendered by me as Canberra telling Beijing: ‘We heard you yelling at us. You’ve had your say, now please consider your enduring interests—and show some respect.’
The sweet-and-sour reality is that Australia already has plenty of experience of arguing with China. And the big bets Australia will make on China in this year’s Foreign Policy White Paper call for deeper and broader engagement, based on a continuing readiness to argue.
Australia’s first ambassador to China, Stephen FitzGerald, gives an excellent view of the stakes in his Gough Whitlam Oration: ‘We are living in a Chinese world. But we don’t have a relationship to match it’.
Whitlam’s diplomatic recognition of China in December 1972 envisaged a relationship comparable to those Australia has with Washington or London, Tokyo or Jakarta. Australia would seek with China ‘a comparable familiarity, in government and society, and comparable closeness, access, and trust, and potential to influence,’ FitzGerald says.
Achieving such a broad embrace without being crushed, as FitzGerald notes, requires Australia to know its interests, and be able to say ‘no’. Whitlam set out that ‘no’ side in his letter of instruction to his Beijing ambassador:
‘We … need to measure our actions carefully so that we do not give the Chinese the impression that we are careless of our own interests. They are themselves hard-headed realists, and it would be unnatural of them not to take advantage of us or hold us in contempt for apparent weakness.’
The message is clear but complicated. Australia has to be as tough when it says ‘yes’ as when it says ‘no’.
The equation gets ever more complicated as the security and economic stakes keep growing. The Foreign Policy White Paper will judge and juggle:
Australia is no bystander. We’re part of this Chinese world and the dollars and cents offer a sense of magnitude. Consider this primer from David Uren:
‘Australia has not had such an intense trading relationship as it has with China since the early 1950s, before its historic dependence on Britain faded. China takes a third of our exports of goods while its students and tourists provide a quarter of our services income. China also provides more than a fifth of our imports. The two-way trade is worth about $150 billion a year, which is more than next-ranked US ($69bn) and Japan ($60bn) combined.’
Quantity, indeed, has a quality all of its own. The quantity China offers gives a special quality to the questions asked of the Oz polity.
The Foreign Policy White Paper will have to crib the viewpoint, but not the title, of Julia Gillard’s Asian Century White Paper (no Coalition document could ever bear Julia’s moniker). The Asian Century White Paper failed as policy prescription but works well as description and prediction. Asia’s rise is changing the world and the Asian Century has profound implications for Oz:
‘Asia’s extraordinary ascent has already changed the Australian economy, society and strategic environment. The scale and pace of the change still to come mean Australia is entering a truly transformative period in our history.’
While discarding Julia’s Asian Century title, the Coalition can easily do the Asia-future language.
The former Liberal Trade Minister, Andrew Robb, speaks constantly from the Asian Century vision, arguing that ‘China and India will inexorably return to sharing the global economic and political centre of gravity.’ The shift in Oz understanding and actions is just beginning. Here’s Robb on the challenge of the vision: ‘Despite two million Australians speaking an Asian language in the home, our cultural awareness is meagre, our Asian language skills are still largely non-existent and our investment levels in the region embarrassing.’
In dealing with Xi Jinping, Australia engages the despot who went to Davos. Australia can say ‘yes’ to Xi’s Davos endorsement of inclusive, invigorated, economic globalisation. That is, we can embrace the words, while not submitting to the crush of the regime. It’s tough work, but that’s what a smart polity is for.
Part of the answer must be Peter Drysdale’s model for a grand bargain between Australia and China, enshrined in treaty and modelled on Australia’s Basic Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation with Japan. As the Australia–China Joint Economic Report outlines, get it in writing and argue out the detail. That isn’t Australia bending the knee to China. Rather it’s an Australia confident of its own values and institutions, as tough in saying ‘yes’ as in saying ‘no’.
At ASPI’s recent State of the Region Masterclass (PDF) I detailed some “alternate futures” for the Trump administration. In truth no-one, not even Trump himself, can be sure how his presidency will evolve. The future is unknowable, which is why using scenario tools that consider a range of alternate futures can be useful when considering Australia’s options for dealing with Trump.
Two key considerations will shape the long term character of the administration. The first is the extent to which Trump shapes a foreign policy of engagement with friends and allies or one which takes a relatively more isolationist bent. The signals are confused. Trump has certainly been critical of key allies, claiming they don’t carry enough of the security burden, but the President’s engagement with Shinzo Abe, Theresa May, Justin Trudeau and Malcolm Turnbull (hard going though that phone call was) all suggest a warming towards traditional allies. The Germans must be worried after Merkel’s awkward meeting—this is one key relationship that isn’t improving. Trump had an equally rocky start with China, but now Washington has reasserted its support for the One China policy which may allow for a more productive meeting between Trump and Xi Jinping. Trump’s comments about wanting to build a productive relationship with Putin are naïve considering the strategic differences between the two countries. For much of the rest of the world, the administration’s views are unknown. Trump harbours a suspicion—not without some foundation—that the outside world just sponges off the US.
The second key consideration shaping the character of the administration is whether it will stabilise into a more normal pattern of business or if Trump’s plan is to deliberately stay unstable. Again, there are contrary signs. Secretaries Mattis, Tillerson, Allen and National Security Adviser, Lieutenant General McMaster—the key national security players—look like reassuring professionals. But Trump was elected precisely because he ran a disruptive campaign; he’s continuing that approach with rallies and social media focused on his support base.
The intersection of those key driving forces—engagement or isolationism; organisational stability or disorder—point to four possible futures for the Trump administration. Right now the Presidency is unstable but it’s still engaging key partners. Think of this scenario as the world of the Unfocused Ally. The administration’s lack of focus means that it faces a difficult and slow transition to office: it took 50 days before Trump’s Cabinet met and literally thousands of political appointments are yet to be made. Key administration figures are starting from a very low knowledge base about international affairs. An Unfocused Ally will be reactive, unpredictable and keep friends and rivals constantly guessing about Washington’s next move. The One China policy? The two-state solution? Don’t expect finesse.
It’s possible that Trump will grow into the job. If the administration becomes more stable and engages allies, its approach will evolve into a Tougher Status Quo. We’ll see greater expectations of allies. Secretary Mattis recently delivered this message to NATO: ‘It is a fair demand that all who benefit from the best alliance in the world carry their proportionate share of the necessary costs to defend our freedoms.’ In this world Washington will be more transactional, more inclined to judge allies by their last military contribution to Coalition efforts and less motivated by the idea of historic alliances. Greater stability means that over time the administration may be less reactive and better able to develop strategic approaches to key relationships. Trump may develop a tougher policy towards Chinese adventurism than Obama—not that that’s saying much. In fact Beijing would probably prefer a consistent but tougher Washington than remaining in a cloud of confusion about the President’s next Tweet.
Moving over to the left hand side of the scenario diagram, an administration that becomes more isolationist and more stable in delivery becomes the cop Off the Beat. With a dominant domestic focus, this is an America in which traditional allies would lose relevance. China, Russia and Iran would look to consolidate attempts to dominate their neighbours. Japan, Germany and Australia, among others, must rethink their own security postures, assuming that the US would be less supportive. Trump might see this environment as a great place to practice the Art of the Deal internationally. Can he cut a deal with China? ‘You get Southeast Asia and we get trade protectionism.’ That would be a worrying place, but would enable the President to play to the voters that elected him.
The final scenario is New World Disorder, in which the administration swings to isolationism and sustains—or deepens—its instability. Just as Lenin understood, disorder can be a deliberate but risky tactic. Trump’s campaign was essentially an insurgency against the American political establishment. A number of his key staff, like senior adviser Steve Bannon, will continue that approach. There’s no point worrying about appointing hundreds of administration officials if the broader aim is to govern with a tiny cadre of ideologues in the White House. In the New World Disorder allies would struggle to gain attention. The administration might act on its rhetoric to ramp up trade disputes and Russia, China and others would have a freer hand for their strategic objectives. The administration would use instability as a tactic to sustain its anti-Washington voter base, but surely Congress would fight back. Impeachment may lie ahead as Trump struggles to accept that running a country is different to running a tight family business.
We shouldn’t pretend that Australia can shape much of that, but our interest is to do what we can to push the administration towards the stable and engaged scenario of the Tougher Status Quo and away from the isolationist scenarios. We can do that by making sure Malcolm Turnbull builds an effective relationship with Trump. We’ll have to do more in terms of alliance cooperation (our own strategic interests demand this), but rather than wait for America to set the price Canberra should design its own agenda for doing more together.
Is that what Australia will do? The signs are mixed. Unlike many world leaders Turnbull hasn’t yet gone over to Mar-a-Lago for a round of golf. He may calculate that there’s nothing in it for him domestically to get too buddy-buddy with Trump. A well-organised chorus of useful idiots in Australia are counselling Turnbull to distance himself from the US and embrace the world’s Chinese future. Too much of that and Trump might decide that isolationism is the right way to handle flaky allies. That, folks, would be neither great nor beautiful.