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Tag Archive for: China
Tag Archive for: China
Is President Xi really all-powerful? (part 1)
There’s something odd about the Australian view of the power and aims of China’s President, Xi Jinping. We’re told that he has unprecedented and centralised authority. He’s using that power to, among other things, maintain China’s claims beyond its internationally accepted borders, especially in the East and South China seas. That increases concerns in East and Southeast Asian states, and brings dangers to sea and air communications for maybe 60% of global trade, including Australian exports. The resulting military and security dangers for countries in the region are obvious.
The reality of Xi’s position may be more complex. He’s indeed a markedly active and purposeful leader, but he is also more than that. He assumed personal chairmanship not only of the senior committees dealing with State, foreign and domestic affairs, but ones on security matters and various aspects of fiscal policy, economics, production and of the Central Military Commission, which is the governing body of all branches of the military, naval, communications as well as air and space forces. While he clearly has a large number of reliable assistants, it must be doubtful how far—for all the recent administrative and command changes—he can personally supervise or control all the bodies that he now formally heads.
The most important of those bodies is, of course, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) itself. It’s not only the political and social glue which alone holds together so large and varied a polity as China but it’s also the chief, if not sole, path for governmental promotion, status and wealth for its 85 million members. Its senior members play decisive roles, among other things, in China’s efforts to change the structure of the economy. This is to move from the principles imposed by Mao’s successor, Deng Xiaoping at the end of the 1970s, to a new reliance on higher domestic consumption, services, the development of infrastructure across the board and more sophisticated controls over Chinese production and trade, as well as a more complex and international role for China’s fiscal and banking systems as well as the Chinese currency, the Yuan.
In pursuing those aims, President Xi has launched a nation and party-wide campaign against the corruption which can, and often does, bedevil dealings with foreign firms and governments, especially with banks, major industrial enterprises as well as food and resource mining companies. Those dealings must support, and not be allowed to limit, the global spread of Chinese economic influence and the other claims and linkages that feature in China’s longer-term plans. In dealing with the difficulties, MR Xi has at least one major domestic problem. Corruption, not just in commercial but in governmental and other matters, has been endemic in China for some 3,000 years. That’s how officials, whether governmental, local or provincial, have normally advanced to wealth and standing. The President’s attempts to halt these practices, and therefore end some of the norms of Chinese society and politics, will continue to prove hugely unpopular in large segments of the CCP and the nation.
The anti-corruption campaign is therefore likely to run into great difficulties, though not all of them will be visible to outsiders, let alone the public. Few things are less transparent in China than the wishes and practices of senior officialdom in the CCP and major institutions like banks and, most particularly, within parts of the Peoples Liberation Army (PLA). Any demand for radically different practices may seem and be dangerous, especially to people who have themselves already gone through several stages of advancement. In that process, they’ll have gathered, or joined, groups of associates, supporters and reliable friends who have linked their own advancement in status and wealth closely to the person around whom the group was formed.
It’s true that Xi has been able to cement his own advancement, and alarm potential dissidents, by taking successful action in a number of spheres. One has been action against the man who was probably his most serious rival. It was Zhou Yongkang, a fellow member of the highest ruling body of the CCP, the Standing Committee of the Politburo, as well as the head of all police and security matters in China. Zhou appears to have been dismissed not only from his post but from the CCP as a whole. However, dismissing Zhou is one thing; dealing with the resentments of Zhou’s long-time supporters and allies, let alone others people who fear they ‘might be next’ could be quite another.
A second piece will comment on President Xi’s influence over, and supporters within, China’s economic and military power structures.
The strategic implications of the Taiwanese elections
As widely expected, the Taiwanese presidential and legislative elections on 16 January produced a landslide victory for the pro-independence, opposition Democratic Progressive Party (DDP) under the leadership of Tsai Ing-Wen. The first female president in the country’s history received 56.1% of the popular vote, defeating the incumbent Kuomintang (KMT) and its candidate Eric Chu by a 25-point margin—the biggest since Taiwan’s first democratic presidential election in 1996. The DPP for the first time also won an absolute majority in the legislature, securing 68 out of 113 seats, which frees the party up to pursue its legislative agenda and mandate.
The result has a couple of strategic implications. The most important is that a peaceful reunification on China’s terms is an increasingly distant prospect. To be sure, Tsai’s victory was partly due to growing voter frustration with the KMT’s handling of domestic problems which included a stagnating economy, rising labour costs and a widening income gap. However, the DPP’s decisive win also reflects increasing concerns about Taiwan’s growing dependence on China under President Ma Ying-Jeou and the perceived dangers to Taiwan’s democracy. Opinion polls prior to the election showed that a wide majority of citizens identify as ‘solely Taiwanese’ and that there’s hardly any support for reunification with the mainland.
Many voters therefore aimed to reassert their Taiwanese identity and way of life through their electoral choice. Indeed, the incompatibility between the political systems across the Taiwan Straits has grown. Taiwan’s election was the third peaceful transfer of power and ample proof of the vitality of its democratic system. Not only did Taiwan elect a female president but 38.1% of its legislators will be women, which will see the Republic of China (ROC) rank 10th in the world on the question of female parliamentary participation.
In short, the election was a milestone in Taiwan’s political system in that it has become almost structurally impossible for any ROC government to advocate for reunification, or getting closer, with the mainland. Tsai’s victory speech reflected that new reality. She refused to accept the ‘One China’ formula of the ‘1992 Consensus’ between the KMT and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Instead, she vowed to ‘build a consistent, predictable, and sustainable cross-strait relationship’ based on the Republic of China’s ‘constitutional order, the results of cross-strait negotiations, interactions and exchanges, and democratic principles and the will of the Taiwanese people’. Moreover, she emphasised that ‘both sides of the strait have a responsibility to find mutually acceptable means of interaction that are based on dignity and reciprocity … Our democratic system, national identity, and international space must be respected. Any forms of suppression will harm the stability of cross-strait relations’.
Thus, while it’s unlikely that Tsai will follow the example of her DPP predecessor in office, Chen Shui-bian, and engage in provocative pro-independence rhetoric, she asks Beijing to respect the ROC’s de facto independence as the basis for the future relationship.
Consequently, the big question is how China’s leadership under President Xi Jinping will react. Predictably, China’s official response reiterated its support for the 1992 Consensus and urged Taiwan to refrain from any secessionist policies that would lead to war. But what’s less clear is how Beijing will seek to manage its relations with a DPP government. Xi, who has so far taken a hard line on sovereignty issues, could seek to punish Taiwan through suspending official exchanges or through trying to diplomatically isolate it even further. Any move to coerce the new DPP leadership could set off a negative spiral in cross-Strait relations. Alternatively, he could recognise the new political realities in Taiwan and quietly work towards a mutually acceptable compromise.
It’s too early to tell which approach China will choose. But it’s likely that the cross-Strait status quo will remain tenuous. That’s also the case because in recent years Beijing has changed the cross-Strait military balance in its favour. Thus, assuming that the US won’t come to the defence of Taiwan, Xi might seek to coerce the DPP leadership into accepting its position. That could be a serious misjudgement as the US is likely to go to war in the event of an unprovoked attack on the island nation. The US State Department’s statement on the election contained a subtle warning to China but also recognised the significance of the result for Taiwan’s democratic system:
‘We congratulate the people on Taiwan for once again demonstrating the strength of their robust democratic system, which will now undergo another peaceful transition of power. We share with the Taiwan people a profound interest in the continuation of cross-Strait peace and stability. We look forward to working with Dr. Tsai and Taiwan’s leaders of all parties to advance our many common interests and further strengthen the unofficial relationship between the United States and the people on [sic] Taiwan.’
The last sentence indicates that the US is willing to support moves to preserve Taiwan’s strategic and political breathing space. As part of the US rebalance to Asia, Taiwan becomes more, not less important to Washington.
It’s time that Canberra puts Taipei back on the radar screen and equally considers ways to strengthen Taiwan’s political and economic position.
Australia must rearm for cyber-enabled war
Australia’s response to the emerging centrality of cyber space in the conduct of future war has been slow and fragmented. That’s true in different ways of the government, the armed forces, the private sector, and the strategic studies community. If the country is to have any hope of keeping pace with future needs, we need much more attention to international benchmarks for capability development and policy than we’ve seen to date.
We can find essential reference points in the policy of two countries of strategic interest to Australia: China and the US. Throughout 2015, both have taken radical decisions in cyber war policy that threaten to leave the rest of the world, Australia included, even further behind them. In stark contrast to those two countries, the Australian government hasn’t been prepared to canvas in public the centrality of cyber-enabled warfare nor craft policies and doctrines accordingly.
In May 2015, China issued its first ever ‘Military Strategy’ under that title. The paper says that cyber space and outer space are the commanding heights of international security and strategic competition.
By the end of 2015, China had begun a revolutionary transformation of its armed forces to execute the new cyber military strategy. Two examples may suffice. First, it announced changes to the PLA command structure to support greater integration of joint operations and intelligence so essential to cyber war. That was essentially a catch-up policy modelled on the US armed forces. Yet if the reforms are implemented effectively, China’s war fighting power in all domains, including naval operations, could be lightyears beyond what it is today.
Second, as the strategy paper foreshadowed, the recrafting of command structures will take on a uniquely Chinese aspect that has high appeal in light of the traditional doctrines of ‘people’s war’ and ‘active defence’. The armed forces in combat will be expected to operate on a model of distributed authority that assumes a loss of central command resulting from cyber attack by a superior enemy. That’s captured in the strategy when it calls for reducing central command authority to foster the conditions of victory in cyber-enabled war under the rubric of ‘self-dependence’ of military units (‘you fight your way and I fight my way’). But it will be embodied in practice in the rapid development of cyber militias (citizenry cyber forces), which in turn will provide China something of an edge in its race to begin to match US full-time uniformed capability.
For its part, the US has also quickened the pace of its cyber military development with its own radical elements. Its strategy has for some time been premised on information dominance through cyber effect operations as the foundation for what it calls ‘prompt global strike’. This is a strategic objective in war, not just a tactical or theatre-level ambition. In 2015, the Pentagon issued a new ‘Cyber Strategy’ and Cyber Command issued a new planning document, titled ‘Beyond the Build’. A Pentagon Law of War Manual, also issued in 2015, and prepared with input from Australian military lawyers, says it is lawful for a country in wartime to undertake pre-emplacement of ‘logic bombs’ in an enemy country’s networks and information systems.
There are at least two highly significant innovations in ‘Beyond the Build’. First, there’s recognition that combat units must be able to operate with degraded command and control systems and a lack of situational awareness. Second, the paper argues that Cyber Command will need to offer commanders and policy makers ‘cyber tools in all phases of operations’, which means at all levels of combat across all services.
The most important lesson for all middle powers from the 2015 Pentagon documents is that to be effective in cyber-enabled war, a country needs to plan for it, structure and train its forces accordingly, and develop the foundations for public engagement in it. The strategy document makes plain that there are many foundations of cyber war that need to be out in the open, ranging from critical infrastructure protection to industry-based R&D and developing a civilian cyber work force.
The US and China are determined to create conditions in cyber space that in wartime could undermine the effectiveness of weapons systems, deployed units and military-related civil infrastructure of an enemy as quickly as possible. They want to disable enemy cyber systems in the early stages of hostilities, or even on a pre-emptive basis. Such capabilities present almost insurmountable challenges to the security of middle powers.
To respond to the emerging environment, Australia will need to develop complex systems of decision-making for medium intensity war that address multi-vector, multi-front and multi-theatre attacks in cyber space, including against civilian infrastructure and civilians involved in the war effort. Australia doesn’t currently possess such capabilities, nor is it close to achieving them.
Musing on the South China Sea
The US Navy and the Australian Air Force have recently been at pains to proclaim certain activities in the South China Sea as pursuant to their right to international freedom of navigation. This new twist on familiar activities stems from China’s spectacular creation of seven new islands in this enclosed sea. The new islands undoubtedly symbolise China’s claim to exclusive privileges in this area, but they also invite a question: when was China’s Politburo persuaded that they needed a shock-and-awe event in the South China Sea to secure a positive outcome, that is, to finally suppress resistance to China’s ‘historical’ claim to the greater part of this sea?
The features in the South China Sea—predominantly located in two clusters called the Paracel Islands in the north and the Spratly Islands in the southeast—are too insignificant to have ever naturally attracted permanent inhabitants. Indeed, most of them are below water, permanently or at high tide. As such, they’ve been of keen interest to fishermen and other mariners, especially from littoral communities, as hazards to avoid or take advantage of as circumstances required. China contends that the first of its imperial dynasties—the Han dynasty, roughly 2BC–2AD—took note of those features and that a mindset of ownership toward the South China Sea emerged over the centuries. In other words, China progressively concluded (or confirmed) that its right to or need for ownership of those features (and/or the sea space they inhabited) surpassed that of the other littoral communities. That sounds like a rather precious posture, even from our present vantage point, although no evidence survives from those ancient times that China imposed its claim in a manner that made other communities aware that such a claim existed.
The years haven’t been kind: the claim looks no more natural or understandable now than it would have two millennia ago. Today, China’s claim is expressed as a dashed line that made its debut in the late 1930s, slipped into circulation by the then Nationalist government. China had at last stepped away from the imperial system in 1911 but its first ‘modern’ government soon found itself in a civil war with the newly-established Chinese Communist Party, to which the Japanese invasion, starting in 1937, was added. This dashed line envelopes some 90% of the South China Sea and now takes away most of the exclusive economic zones granted to the other littoral states under the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). The status of the features within the sea in contemporary legal terms is rather obscure, and the relevance of an imperial attitude toward this body of water by the most distant of the littoral states is, at the very least, contestable.
The People’s Republic of China has nonetheless progressively intensified its campaign to secure acceptance of its claim. It has alternated between phases of inducement and coercion as well as signalling, as it became wealthier, that its capacity to bring pressure to bear was, for all practical purposes, destined to become unlimited. Beijing has had ample opportunity—even since the end of the Cold War focussed more attention on those ‘regional’ issues—to assess the costs and risks of its policy settings on the South China Sea. We can infer that, for some considerable time, the occasional policy review concluded that the established instruments of policy implementation—both carrots and sticks, all of which were growing in weight and effectiveness—could be expected to suppress opposition to China’s objectives at an acceptable cost and in an acceptable timeframe.
It seems, however, that something happened that shattered political confidence in getting that timely and cost-effective outcome. Something persuaded the Politburo that the parameters of the issue needed a profound shake-up to accelerate progress toward the desired outcome. The Politburo was attracted to a spectacular blizzard of island building as the transformative development. Planning was conducted in complete secrecy. One can assume that the Politburo had to decide what island-building program was neither too small nor too big to achieve its psychological, political and security objectives, and how quickly it had to be put in place to preclude countervailing action. It would also have had to choose which features to transform into islands; decisions that would have been informed by the feasibility of transforming particular features, prospective economic rewards, military considerations stemming from the location of features occupied by other claimants and the full scope of the rights and privileges within its dashed line that China intends, eventually, to claim (but which it has steadfastly declined to elaborate on thus far).
Not long before this development, and possibly even coincident with it, the more strategically-minded within the Party leadership might have lamented that China was now so strongly associated with that claim, had committed so much political capital to it, that failure was no longer an option. It might now be clearer that China’s proximity and the sheer weight of its activities in and around the South China Sea would have delivered de facto ‘ownership’ but it was too late for this: China had at that point no choice but to press its expansive claim and make it stick.
The island-building program ramped up quickly from August 2014 and was declared complete in June 2015. The apparent objective of a political ambush was achieved. Secrecy about the Politburo decision, and preparations to implement that decision, was absolute. No one in the CCP, the legal profession, the media or the National People’s Congress breathed a word, not even to pose a question about the political wisdom, legality or cost of what the Politburo had in mind. That’s just as well, of course. If other states knew, or came to know, what the time-line for Beijing’s decisions on the program had been and then compared it with what China had been saying and doing diplomatically at the same time, the fallout could be rather damaging.
Still, the issue is poisoning the region’s political and security outlook. Not so long ago, it seemed that the majority view among analysts was that the South China Sea was essentially a peripheral issue and that, as this sank in within the ranks of regional governments, the dispute would cool. Now the pendulum is swinging the other way, with analysts thinking they may have missed something, and finding ways of visualising the South China Sea as something closer to the fulcrum of the world in the 21st century. It’s doubtful whether either posture is helpful. But it’s becoming rather urgent that the region’s leaders determine the probable direction of a solution and begin to align the politics of the issue accordingly.
Don’t be complacent about China!
When I first moved from China to Australia in 2011 I was surprised to hear rumblings about the perils of Australian complacency in the face of rapid changes taking place across the Indo–Pacific. Australia’s destiny is tied to Asia and China in particular—this struck me as a given.
The living standards of Australians are inherently dependent on the ability of Australian businesses to continue to make profit and on the region continuing to be without major conflict. The former means increasingly relying on the region to generate profit. The latter means that Canberra’s diplomatic efforts must focus on encouraging the peaceful rise of China and the establishment of a new equilibrium of power acceptable to Australia and others in the region.
Over the past four years, I’ve been confronted with this complaint of complacency in countless conversations about Australia’s ties with China. Many Australian government officials, military officers, business people, university administrators, defence analysts and academics have bemoaned that Australians haven’t made the effort to become China-literate because they haven’t needed to. The resources boom kept living standards high without requiring much effort. Furthermore, changes in education policies around the turn of the 21st century discouraged Australian school children from studying Asian languages.
Most recently, during a closed-door meeting of China Matters in Melbourne, it was apparent to me that Australia continues to miss out on significant opportunities. At the meeting, three very different kinds of questions were probed: How’s Australian business coping with the transforming environment under Xi Jinping? How should the Australian government respond to outreach activities of the Chinese government in Australia, especially among Chinese international students and media outlets? How should Canberra respond to China’s ambitions in the region? All three sessions ended not only with a recognition that it’s going to be even tougher to benefit from engagement with China as ties expand and deepen, but also, if Australians don’t grasp some of the opportunities, they will be worse off for it. The first crucial step in learning how to deal with a different counterpart—one with whom Australia doesn’t share common values—is the hardest. The unknown seems to be an insurmountable challenge.
Starting with the business environment, Australians are missing opportunities because of reluctance to invest in China. Despite the fact that the consequences of China’s economic transformation have been apparent for a decade, Australia’s economic relationship with China continues to be largely transactional (resources or food products are shipped to China). Xi Jinping’s reforms merely reinforced goals set by his predecessor: to make growth consumption-driven rather than investment-led and reliant on the services sector rather than manufacturing. The overwhelming majority of Australia’s GDP derives from the services sector, but services only comprise about 20% of Australia’s exports.
The vast majority of Australian companies are at least 10 years behind competitors who invested in China via either wholly foreign-owned entities or joint ventures. Competitors now increasingly include Chinese companies, who in many cases have had (or continue to have) an advantage due to Chinese administrative measures or policies that favour domestic companies. Additionally, today many Chinese business executives are experienced and confident and therefore have no incentive to grant favourable terms in return for the opportunity to learn from a Western partner, as was the case 10–15 years ago. Naturally, investing in China carries risk. Many factors, among others the lack of rule of law, compound normal business risks. But due diligence and hedging are better tools than complacency to offset risk.
Moving to the education sector, I’m dismayed that the Australian government and universities don’t make greater effort at outreach among international students to proudly promote this multicultural society, one that thrives on the rule of law and civil liberties such as freedom of speech and the press. What a missed opportunity! Those international students—of which about one-third are from China—contribute vital revenue to Australian universities. However, in the case of Chinese students, many have scant if any interaction with Australian society.
Many Chinese students in Australia rely on Chinese student associations, funded in part by the Chinese government, for their social activities and on Chinese-language media for news and understanding of the goings-on in Australia and the world. Most Chinese language media in Australia are controlled or heavily influenced by the Propaganda Bureau of the Communist Party of China (CCP), which forbids open discussion of issues it deems controversial. According to John Fitzgerald, a Swinburne University of Technology academic, the views of Chinese residents of Australia, whether they’re students or migrants, are ‘massaged in Australia through Chinese-language news and commentary produced in Beijing and rebroadcast through commercial radio stations and other media that have been bought up by businesses acting on behalf of the CCP Propaganda Bureau’.
That means that many (possibly most) Chinese students in Australia aren’t exposed either at social events or in their news intake to issues deemed anathema by the Chinese government, for example contrarian views on controversies in the South China Sea or on minority concerns in Tibet and Xinjiang.
Upon their return, the Chinese students in Australia are potential ambassadors of Australian values and principles. As my China Matters colleague Eva O’Dea has written elsewhere, the Australian government and universities should explain to Chinese students living here how a rules-based society works. This would also support Australia’s advocacy of a rules-based order in the international arena. This opportunity is being missed.
Lastly, to the challenge of strengthening Australia’s capacity to participate in transforming the region so that a favourable balance of power emerges between China and the US—one which is in Australia’s interests. It’s an extremely complex but absolutely necessary long-term task.
It’s futile to resist change and hope that Washington will continue to dominate the region so no recalibration of power is necessary. To Canberra’s credit several key policy-makers acknowledge this and are seriously grappling with this reality. Frances Adamson, among others, deserves recognition for her tremendous contribution as Australia’s most recent envoy in Beijing. But there’s much work to be done, starting with clearer and more candid messaging from the government to all ranks of public servants as well as to the population at large. Dennis Richardson, Michael Thawley and Peter Varghese have each taken initial steps and set good precedents as departmental secretaries by speaking in public about China’s rise and the challenges ahead. Despite this, the government must do a better job at preparing the population for the inevitable change in the balance of power within the Indo–Pacific region. How the new equilibrium of power between the US and China emerges will entail a delicate balancing act, one in which Australia and the rest of the region have a role.
Hence there’s a dire need to deepen Australia’s relations with the rest of the region. I acknowledge the challenge of pressing global issues and allocating limited funds, but every penny available should be devoted to strengthening the standing of Australia in regional capitals.
Australian government ministers constantly reiterate Australia’s support for a rules-based regional order, after which they fall back on guarded diplomatic platitudes to convey that Australia doesn’t want to live in a region dominated by a powerful China that unilaterally acts to protect what it perceives as its core interests. Australia by itself is too small to mould China’s policies. In post-Cold War thinking Washington was the natural place to turn to look for a partner; next was Tokyo. But we’ve moved into a new era: an era of rebalancing, an era of flux.
Canberra isn’t on equal footing with either Washington or Tokyo; and Beijing knows it. It isn’t in Australia’s interests to always be perceived as following the US. Even more detrimental would be to be seen as following Tokyo’s lead. Hence when China’s actions cause concern Australia needs to be in a position to push back together with one or two regional nations whose clout is somewhat commensurate with its own. Minilateral gatherings are a good start. But much more effort is needed to build relationships throughout the region—at not only government minister level but also among a diverse set of senior public servants. That would allow Australians to have more sway in Beijing as well as in Jakarta, Seoul, Tokyo, Kuala Lumpur and Bangkok.
Cyber wrap
China hosted the second World Internet Conference (WIC) in Wuzhen, Zhejiang province this week with President Xi Jinping delivering a keynote address at the opening ceremony. He called for international respect of ‘cyber sovereignty’, which is the right of individual countries to determine the information available within their borders. Simultaneously, Xi warned against ‘cyber hegemony’, arguing that the governance of cyberspace shouldn’t lie in the hands of the powerful few, but rather all stakeholders. The conference also produced the Wuzhen Initiative, a series of five principles addressing development, diversity, security and governance in cyberspace. The speech has also been interpreted by some news outlets as a sign that Xi is ‘doubling down’ on cyber control. For a rundown of the main themes, check out Adam Segal’s interesting synopsis. Also, read Scott Malcomson’s piece on how the conference represents another step towards the fragmentation of cyber governance and the so-called ‘Splinternet’.
The encryption debate continues. To date, discussion has been divided between authorities who argue encryption backdoors are essential to the law enforcement effort and tech companies who maintain that encryption is important to security and customer privacy. But this week, arguments may be tilting in favour of the security-minded. Recent reports from investigators in Paris affirm that the recent terrorist attacks involved the use of encrypted communication apps. Investigators believe that the terrorists may have exploited the end-to-end encryption of Whatsapp and Telegram, to coordinate their efforts on 13 November. Blackberry called this week for a fair balance to be struck between privacy and security, criticising Apple for not helping authorities access encrypted information that was the subject of a criminal enquiry. The company’s CEO and Chairman asserted that Blackberry’s ‘privacy commitment does not extend to criminals’ and as such they ‘reject the notion that tech companies should refuse reasonable, lawful access requests’.
A new WIRED analysis by Mike Gault has a refreshing take on the encryption discussion, arguing that there’s much more to information security than confidentiality and perimeter protection. Gault reminds readers that cybersecurity is constituted by three principles: the ‘confidentiality, availability and integrity’ of data, known as the ‘CIA Triad’. He criticises the current disproportionate focus on confidentiality and argues that the compromise of a data’s integrity is in fact ‘the biggest threat’.
In less positive news, Turkey fell victim to a Distributed Denial of Service (DDoS) attack this week. More than 400,000 websites were flooded with information, crippling systems and putting pages offline. Unsubstantiated rumours began to circulate that this was a Russian retaliation to the downing of a Russian fighter jet by Turkey last month. However, responsibility has recently been claimed by global hacktivist group, Anonymous, who state the attack is part of their ongoing #OpISIS. The group accuses Turkey of aiding ISIS by buying its oil and hospitalising its fighters, and argues this recent attack is Turkey’s punishment for its alleged support of the terrorist group. The assault involved a network of malicious computers simultaneously overwhelming websites with online traffic, targeting official domain names registered by NIC.tr—the administration office in the Turkish capital, Ankara. The incident affected universities, government institutions and the military, causing all incoming traffic, including emails, to be shut down by Turkey’s National Response Centre for Cyber Events.
And finally, as the year draws to a close, it’s time to consider the main cyber lessons from 2015 and a couple of big predictions for 2016. Main takeaways include the vulnerability of the Internet of Things and healthcare systems, as well as issues of third party security and insider threats. Looking ahead, check out some cybersecurity predictions for 2016 here, here and here. This Forbes article presents a variety of research on the future of cybersecurity, notably predicting that the industry will jump from its current worth of US$75 billion to US$170 billion by 2020. So, it looks like we’ll have plenty to talk about next year, happy holidays!
ASPI suggests
Although it took place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Star Wars has again been making headlines this week, not only due to the release of The Force Awakens, but also because of the epic series’ notable parallels with life here on Earth. Technology, counterterrorism, politics and cybersecurity wonks will be over the moon with the smorgasbord of analysis on offer—although, if you’re yet to see the new film, take a look at The Washington Post’s handy guide to avoiding spoilers. Choice pieces include Foreign Policy’s look at how the rebels can create permanent peace in the galaxy through counterinsurgency (check out Luke Skywalker’s journey to jihad for a different angle), Raytheon’s examination of the technology from the series, and The Wall Street Journal’s effort on both science and tech in the films and how they relate to real life—and these two Council on Foreign Relations pieces on the inadequacies of the Empire’s cybersecurity strategies. Alternatively, to get in touch with your artier side, check out this War is Boring piece on the US Marine who takes shooting Stormtroopers and droids to a whole new level—with his camera.
Back in the Milky Way, Rizal Sukma, the executive director of CSIS Jakarta, has penned an interesting opinion piece for The Jakarta Post countering critics who argue that Indonesia is slowly leaning towards China, with a prime example being Indonesia’s snub of Japan over a high-speed rail deal earlier this year. It’ll be interesting, then, to watch the outcomes of discussions between Indonesian, Japanese and Australian defence and foreign affairs officials as they continue into next week.
The Council on Foreign Relations has released a fascinating and extensive InfoGuide on the Taliban. The interactive tool gives a detailed look at Afghanistan’s most vigorous insurgent group, beginning at their conception in the 1990s, and concluding by posing a number of interesting policy questions, such as whether a negotiated settlement with the group is actually possible. The side effects of Islamic radicalism got an interesting look-in on War on the Rocks this week in a great article by Julia Santucci, who examined the links between violent extremism and gender inequalities—and how bolstering the work of women working to promote the positive principles of their faiths is an effective counterterrorism strategy.
For a different angle on global conflict hotspots, check out the Global Peace Operations Review’s new infographic on UN Peacekeeping. Looking at the 10 states that contribute the most finances, and the 10 states which contribute the most troops, the report finds there’s little (read: zero) crossover between the two groups. ‘Those who pay, rarely play…’.
The Perth USAsia Centre has released findings on the strategic implications that gas has on energy security here in Australia, concluding that it’s difficult to ascertain if we even have an energy security strategy at all. The report concludes that hard decisions will need to be made on the future of the Australian energy sector, forced either by the necessity for discussion, raised by public discussion on issues like foreign investment, or changing conditions in the region. In a similar vein, the Sea Power Centre has published a report for the Chief of Navy on protecting fuel trade flows from a shipping perspective.
And finally, if you feel that your Christmas wish list is still lacking (unlike US Secretary of Defence Ash Carter’s), check out this handy piece of robotics designed to read your body’s signals as you look at Tinder profiles, and then swipe left or right for you accordingly. You don’t even need to lift a finger to find a new romance for 2016.
Podcasts
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll probably have noticed that Season Two of the hit podcast series Serial has been launched, this time focusing on the story of Bowe Bergdahl—the US soldier who was captured and held by the Taliban for five years. For a deeper look at Bergdahl’s history and host Sarah Koenig’s decision to examine the accounts of his time in Afghanistan, see this piece on The New Yorker. Episode two is available here.
Videos
Chatham House has released footage (19 mins) of an interesting panel discussion between Sara Silvestri, Matthew Goodwin and John Gaffney on how the Paris attacks could come to shape politics in the European Union and the implication for the EU’s Islamic population—a poignant topic as Marine Le Pen’s National Front party made international headlines despite a significant loss in French regional elections this week.
Are you interested in building your very own Death Star? NASA knows that the answer is ‘yes’—and they know that galactic domination is a pricey business (US$193 quintillion, in fact). Check out this video (2 mins) where Brian Muirhead, chief engineer at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, recommends mining asteroids to create the base for your colossal and cost-effective space weapon.
The ADF and strategic non-nuclear deterrence (part 1)
In his recent post on Australian policy towards acquisition of nuclear weapons, Rod Lyon responds to a thesis promoted by Christine Leah and Crispin Rovere that Australia should acquire its own independent nuclear deterrent capability. Their argument has generated strong counter-responses, here and here. Certainly a nuclear option for the ADF seems far-fetched given Australia strongly supports non-proliferation norms. However, Rod Lyon’s analysis suggests a ‘dark future’ scenario of the erosion of credibility of US Extended Nuclear Deterrence security guarantees, together with a decline in strategic weight for the US in Asia relative to rising revisionist powers that actively challenge its strategic primacy. The scenario implies a worsening strategic outlook where Australia can’t be certain the circumstances that allow its traditional non-nuclear posture would remain in place; it forces us to consider the unpalatable. What happens if things go wrong in our region? Setting nuclear weapons aside, what defence capability options beyond those currently planned for Force 2035 should Australian defence planners consider in this particular future?
In Lyon’s dark future scenario, Australian defence planners could confront a major rising power like China, who would seek to use coercion at a level below the nuclear threshold as part of a broader strategic competition with the US. However, it seems too farfetched to suggest, as Leah and Rovere do, that China would break nuclear taboos on non-use needlessly when more credible non-nuclear options were available. While China normally would coerce using its strategic weight and ‘grey zone’ activities, if China were emboldened in the face of a decline in US strategic influence, one option would be to exploit its strike warfare capability based around long-range conventionally-armed ballistic and land-attack cruise missiles to threaten Australian interests. Certainly Australia couldn’t depend on a US nuclear response to a Chinese non-nuclear attack that was limited in scope but which had strategic effect, and neither would Leah and Rovere’s proposed Australian nuclear option be a credible response to Chinese non-nuclear coercion. A logical and more usable riposte to Chinese long-range conventional ballistic and cruise missile forces would be to consider acquiring a BMD capability that could initially be deployed on the RAN’s Hobart-class Air Warfare Destroyers, and then extended ashore if needed.
There are however some clear challenges. Chinese development of hypersonic glide vehicles and deployment of longer range (and thus higher speed) DF-26 Intermediate Range Ballistic Missiles, suggests that a classic offense versus defence race is underway. Andrew Davies and Rod Lyon have analysed the risks and opportunities of BMD and note that opportunities to counter short, medium and possibly intermediate-range systems are improving They are cautious of investing too soon in a sea-based BMD capability, but suggest continued investment in BMD research and development such that Australia is well placed to adopt them in the future, if needed.
The political cost of launching conventional ballistic missile attacks is low in comparison to stepping over the nuclear threshold, and missile threat developments argue for greater investment into BMD to counter the strategic coercion potential of Chinese strike warfare. Developing an Australian BMD capability that can ‘plug and play’ with similar US systems, as well as Japanese and potentially South Korean BMD systems, strengthens the self-reliance foundation of Australian defence strategy, and contributes towards strengthening vital alliance and strategic partner relationships. It sends a strong message of resolve to a rising China, reinforces deterrence by denial, and offers a degree of insurance against what Davies and Lyon refer to as the ‘cheap shot’ threat of a single missile that could be launched by a regional rogue such as North Korea. In spite of the challenges, a BMD capability for the ADF is worth pursuing sooner rather than later.
In addition to coercive use of ballistic missiles, the challenge posed by Chinese land-attack cruise missile (LACM) capabilities based on submarines, naval surface combatants and long-strike strike aircraft must also be considered. China’s DH-10 LACM has a range greater than 1,500km, and the CJ-20 has a range of 2,200km. Those could easily be directed against Australia’s vital oil and gas infrastructure along the north-west coast. In meeting this potential threat, the ADF will be depending on the F-35 JSF, supported by KC-30A tankers and E-7A Wedgetail AEW&C aircraft. Given the range of LACMs, the F-35’s which has an unrefuelled combat radius of 590 nautical miles (1,092 km)must be refuelled from KC-30A tankers to enable the aircraft to counter a LACM threat as soon as possible. The role of RAAF E-7 Wedgetail AEW&C aircraft would be to fly forward to detect cruise missiles in flight at the earliest possible opportunity, a task for which the Wedgetail is well suited, but which would leave both the Wedgetail and the KC-30A tanker more exposed to long-range air-to-air missile threats. They must therefore be escorted, and the logistical complexity of a counter-LACM operation rises considerably. Alternatively, Carlo Kopp argues for a multi-layered approach that seeks to prevent the launching of cruise missiles in the first place—shooting the archer before he releases his arrow. Such an approach would see joint expeditionary operations to prevent an opponent projecting power against Australia. However terminal defences could also be considered as part of such a solution that would be effective against both ballistic and cruise missile as well as air threats. Recent analysis of ADF land capability notes a significant capability shortfall in modern ground-based air defences. Although the analysis suggests a long-range wide area defence system such as Patriot is beyond realistic budget aspirations, in countering LACMs that assessment may need revision.
The twin challenge of ballistic and land-attack cruise missile threats highlights the importance of Australia ensuring its networked C4ISR systems are resilient in the face of adversary threat, and preferably able to deny a knowledge edge to an adversary. Therefore countering the ballistic and cruise missile threat may demand complementary investment in counter-information warfare capabilities, as well as a counterforce potential against China’s ability to project naval or air power against Australia’s maritime and air approaches. These will be considered in the second part to follow.
China takes the lead in new climate change paradigm
What happens in China is central to the global effort to limit the extent of future climate change. China is already the largest emitter of greenhouse gases by far, even as it continues its process of urbanisation and economic modernisation. Under a traditional model of energy-intensive economic growth fed by fossil fuels, this would thwart the world’s chances of keeping climate change at levels considered relatively safe. But a new paradigm of low-carbon economic growth could be the answer. Consistent with China’s own national interests, this paradigm emphasises technology and is driven in large part by concerns other than climate change.
In the lead-up to the UN’s 2015 climate change conference in Paris, China has taken a global leadership position on climate change policy. China’s submission to the Paris negotiations still urges developed countries to do more on climate change. But it also says that China ‘will promote global green low-carbon transformation and development path innovation’.
Those last few words are the key. China has realised that it has a strong self-interest in addressing climate change. Cutting carbon emissions goes hand in hand with China’s other national objectives, including cleaning up air pollution and improving China’s energy security, principally by cutting back on the reliance on importing fossil fuels.
China could become the dominant provider of many new low-emission technologies. China is already the world’s largest producer of solar cells and wind turbines. And it could aspire to global leadership in areas such as electric vehicles advanced electric grid technologies and ‘smart’ buildings with minimal energy footprint.
China’s headline climate goal is a reduction in the emissions intensity of its economy (or the ratio of carbon dioxide emissions to GDP) of 60–65% from 2005 to 2030. Though ambitious, the target is realistic because of the huge potential for energy efficiency and for moving away from coal, which still dominates China’s energy supply.
China is on track to meet its 2020 target of a 40–45% cut in emissions intensity. The key factor to success has been improving energy efficiency throughout the economy. But to meet the 2030 target, China will also need to see a structural shift in its economy towards services and high-value added manufacturing, as well as a shift in the composition of its energy supply away from coal and towards carbon-free alternatives.
China has also pledged to reach its peak carbon dioxide emissions level by around 2030. China’s economic growth is now moderating and it is therefore quite possible for emissions to peak before 2030. China’s submission to the Paris conference targets a sharp increase in non-fossil fuel energy sources, to around 20 per cent of the total energy mix by 2030.
Renewable energy is no longer an expensive luxury: the cost of electricity from solar panels, for example, is now almost competitive with new coal fired generating capacity. And low-emissions electricity capacity is growing rapidly. Still the policy effort to get to a point where these alternative power sources provide a large share of total energy in China will be enormous, because solar and wind power are coming off a very low base in China and the system overall is still geared towards large, centralised plants.
Command-and-control approaches have dominated China’s energy and climate policy toolbox. But market-based policy instruments are to play a much bigger role in the future. In line with a general drive to liberalise the economy, China is preparing a national emissions trading scheme, foreshadowed for introduction in 2017. The cap-and-trade scheme is to cover electricity generation and heavy industries.
For emissions trading in China to become fully effective, there will need to be significant changes in how the energy sector. Large parts of heavy industry and the electricity system are still run by state regulation or as state-owned enterprises. Making emissions trading effective will require giving a much greater role to pricing mechanisms, especially in the electricity sector.
Such reform can be hard to do as it cuts across established interests, but over time the introduction of emissions trading could be a catalyst to push ahead with faster market reform in China’s heavy and energy industries.
China’s move towards effective emissions markets will be a gradual one. But it can have a big signalling effect. What plays out in China will reverberate across Asia and the world. Governments and businesses will feel the effects of China’s low-carbon push. It is high time for countries that have strong trade and investment relationships with China to engage deeply on the new economic and strategic trends that come from China’s climate policy.
Developing countries have a choice as to whether their economies grow in the traditional way.
Technological and economic push factors are at work. Cheap Chinese-made solar panels have created a fast growing market for renewable energy. The same can happen with other new energy technologies. China is in a good position to influence global product market trajectories and steer financing for infrastructure investments in other countries.
The pull factors are not to be underestimated. If China succeeds in cutting short the dirty phase of industrialisation through technology and accelerated structural change, then why would any country be content with second best technology and an outdated model of development?
China’s approach to Syria and Afghanistan: the dilemmas of a partial power?
Prospective Republican presidential candidate Ben Carson made the claim during the GOP primary on 13 November that with respect to the Syrian crisis Americans ‘must recognise that it’s a very complex place. You know, the Chinese are there, as well as the Russians, and you have all kinds of factions there’.
The Obama administration has ridiculed the claim with the President dismissively attributing it to the fact that Carson ‘doesn’t know much about it [Syria],’ while a White House spokesperson suggested that ‘China has a history of staying out of conflicts in the Middle East’.
The administration was right to dismiss Carson’s claim as erroneous. However it nonetheless underlines increasingly evident frustration in the West that China, while claiming the rights and status of a great power, hasn’t assumed the responsibilities of one.
According to some, no state has benefitted more from the US’ misadventures in the Middle East and Central Asia than China. Those military commitments, and the ‘war on terrorism’ associated with them, have distracted two successive US presidents from constructing consistent and coherent responses to China’s accrual of increasing military and diplomatic capabilities in Asia. To rub salt into US wounds Beijing has been the consummate ‘free rider’ in both Iraq and Afghanistan, utilising the American (and NATO in the case of the latter) provision of security to invest heavily in those countries oil and resources sector while steadfastly refusing entreaties for Chinese engagement in the stabilisation of them. This sentiment has also been expressed by President Obama, much to the displeasure of Beijing.
China’s approach to both of the US’ wars in Syria and Afghanistan however reflects Beijing’s anxieties about both its own position in international affairs and the security situation in Xinjiang.
David Shambaugh has eloquently argued that China remains a ‘partial power’ whose international diplomacy ‘often makes it known what it is against, but rarely what it is for’. This makes China’s foreign policy in many regions of the world ‘hesitant, risk averse and narrowly self-interested’.
This characterisation accurately describes China’s approach to the Syrian crisis and Afghanistan to date.
In Syria, China’s insistence on the principle of ‘non-intervention’ and its exhortations that only a ‘political settlement’ can resolve it don’t stem from any deep relations with the Assad regime. Unlike Russia, Beijing has limited economic and military ties to Damascus. Rather, Beijing’s opposition to the US-led efforts regarding Syria is linked to its desire to protect its reputation both at home and abroad. Key here is Beijing’s experience during the overthrow of Muammar Qaddafi in Libya where its abstention from UN Security Council Resolution 1973 paved the way for NATO military intervention. Internationally, that raised questions about the sanctity of Beijing’s principle of ‘non-interference’ upon which it had built much of its diplomatic successes since the end of the Cold War. Domestically, it suggested that the rulers in Zhongnanhai had compromised core principles and acquiesced too quickly to Western pressure.
China’s approach to Afghanistan has also be similarly cautious. To date it has been focused on achieving political reconciliation between Kabul and the Taliban—what it terms an ‘Afghan-led and Afghan-owned’ peace process—and fostering economic development. A key element of Beijing’s strategy to encourage the former has been based on the assumption that it can leverage its ‘all weather’ friendship with Pakistan to compel the Taliban to the negotiating table and assist it in clamping down on a small number of Uyghur militants operating along the Af–Pak frontier.
With respect to the latter, Afghanistan has emerged as a key link in the ‘Silk Road Economic Belt’ (SREB) facet of President Xi Xinping’s ‘One Belt, One Road’ (OBOR) strategy. The SREB’s focus on the development of trans-regional infrastructure links and investment across Central Eurasia including the planned $46 billion ‘China-Pakistan Economic Corridor’ (CEPC)—linking Kashgar in Xinjiang’s south-west with the largely Chinese built deep-water port of Gwadar on Pakistan’s Arabian Sea coast—and the Anyak copper mine in Afghanistan’s Logar province, the OBOR looks set to give China a greater stake in the future security and prosperity of Central Asia, Afghanistan and Pakistan.
Those approaches would now appear to be of diminishing utility due to a number of developments that are bringing the threat of ISIS, and radical Islamism more broadly, home to Beijing.
First, on 10 September ISIS published an ‘advertisement’ in its online magazine Dabiq featuring Norwegian and Chinese hostages, Ole Johan Grimsgaard-Ofstad and Fan Jinghui, which it claimed were being ransomed in a ‘limited time offer’. ISIS subsequently claimed on 18 November that both men had been ‘executed after being abandoned by kafir nations and organisations’, a claim verified by both men’s respective governments. President Xi, condemning the murders as ‘ruthless’ attacks on the ‘baseline of human civilization’, has vowed to bring the perpetrators to justice.
This follows Chinese claims of ISIS’ active recruitment of Uyghurs from its restive province of Xinjiang to fight in Syria and Iraq and reports of the deaths of 28 Uyghur ‘terrorists’ in southern Xinjiang after a 56 day ‘manhunt’.
Second, reports of ISIS inroads among some sections of the Taliban looks set to make China’s preferred option of a negotiated political settlement to conflict there anytime soon unlikely. Additionally, the fact that the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU), one of Central Asia’s most resilient jihadist groups, has also reportedly switched its allegiance from the Taliban to ISIS will also be of major concern for Beijing given that the IMU has in the past hosted Uyghur militants in camps along the Af–Pak frontier.
The question now remains as to how Beijing will choose to respond now that the threat of ISIS has begun to impinge on its direct national interests in Xinjiang, Central Asia and the Middle East. Will it modify its ‘non-intervention’ principle in the interests of combatting ISIS? Or will it simply seek, as it has in the past, to leverage international concern with radical Islamism to enhance the legitimacy of its hard-line in Xinjiang?