Tag Archive for: Donald Trump

Donald Trump, Jon Voight and the paths to transformation or upheaval

At a breakfast meeting in a well-known restaurant a stone’s throw from the White House on Saturday, I noticed the veteran actor and Oscar-winner Jon Voight across the room. Two days out from Donald Trump’s inauguration, the incoming President’s newly minted ‘Ambassador’ to Hollywood was no doubt in town for the big occasion of Trump’s return to the Oval Office.

As I made eye contact with Voight and got a smile in return, the moment encapsulated for me the remarkable situation we’re living through: the transformation of US politics and the study in contrasts that Trump’s return to the presidency represents, with a mix of familiar faces and new allies in tow.

The pre-inauguration weekend in Washington exemplifies great American traditions: NFL playoffs, biting winter weather, and gatherings of friends and family either celebrating or commiserating over the incoming president. But this year, the atmosphere in DC carries a unique tension after a week of confirmation hearings ranging from the mundane to the bizarre.

Voight is a case in point: a rare movie star who is comfortable among the Republican elite, the MAGA hats and the Trump paraphernalia dotting the wintery landscape outside, but who has also attracted controversy for comparing ‘leftists’ to Satan. The mere fact of appointing special envoys to Hollywood—the others being Sylvester Stallone and Mel Gibson—shows Trump’s extraordinary approach to transforming even sections of the nation that have generally viewed him with scepticism or antipathy.

On the one hand, the administration’s statements promise disruption to bureaucratic inertia—the very reason a majority of Americans voted for Trump and a recognition that widespread global tensions and conflict mean a business-as-usual approach is totally inadequate. On the other, some pronouncements have caused sharp intakes of breath among Washington’s politically attuned population, who watch with a mix of fascination and dread, unable to look away from what they fear might become a slow-motion train wreck or a fast-paced wrecking ball. This duality—the potential for both transformative change and concerning upheaval—defines Trump’s leadership style.

My morning meeting with an Australian venture capitalist focused on the future of AUKUS under Trump’s second term. Despite the uncertainties that come with any administration change, the mood was surprisingly optimistic. The sense is that AUKUS—the trilateral security pact between Australia, Britain and the US—still holds the promise we’ve hoped for. There’s a prevailing belief that under Trump, capital markets will surge, potentially accelerating the defense technology collaboration that underpins the agreement.

Walking around after my meeting and close encounter with a Hollywood star, I could see the extent to which the capital has transformed in preparation for the inauguration. Downtown Washington, locked down for security, has taken on the air of a Republican stronghold. The traditional pre-inauguration ‘People’s March’ forming in Farragut Square, usually a robust demonstration, appeared subdued and diminished—a visible sign of the shifting political winds.

Mother Nature, however, has her own plans for the inauguration. An Arctic front will bring the coldest temperatures in decades, forcing the ceremony indoors to the Capitol rotunda. This weather-induced change may be a blessing in disguise, rendering moot any potential debates about crowd size—a contentious point from Trump’s first inauguration. The limited capacity of the indoor venue will naturally constrain attendance, despite the million-plus supporters and observers who flocked to DC to attend.

I’m acutely aware of the unique responsibility that a think tank such as ASPI has in Washington. We serve as a bridge, injecting Australian and regional perspectives into American national security and defense discussions. Our mission isn’t to influence but to inform and diversify the debate while providing crucial insights back to the Australian people about policies that will affect our region.

This mission has become more complex with the recent defunding of our Washington office by the Australian government. Yet the importance of our work hasn’t diminished. If anything, in these uncertain times, the need for clear-eyed analysis and regional perspective has only grown.

Looking ahead to Trump’s second term, I find myself holding mixed emotions: hope tempered by trepidation, optimism checked by concern. But above all, I’m grateful to be here at this pivotal moment, positioned to contribute unique insights that few others can provide. As the world watches America’s political transition, the view from Down Under in Washington offers a valuable perspective on this historic moment and its implications for the Indo-Pacific region.

In these early days of Trump’s return to power, one thing is certain: the dynamic and unpredictable nature of his approach will continue to challenge conventional wisdom and traditional diplomatic frameworks. For those of us working in Washington to strengthen international partnerships, the task ahead is clear—to navigate this new landscape while maintaining the robust alliance relationships that have long served both American and Australian interests.

China’s secretive build-up presents Trump with a difficult nuclear challenge

After disappearing from debate over the last couple of decades, nuclear politics are set to return with a vengeance. China has begun an unexpected and secretive nuclear force buildup. This presents a major challenge for Donald Trump’s new administration, which will want to maintain US nuclear advantage over China.

China’s shifting nuclear posture, the secrecy surrounding it, and the low likelihood of Chinese cooperation on arms control threaten stability in the Indo-Pacific region and beyond.

We have heard little from China’s official sources about its plans for nuclear expansion. The likelihood is that China is seeking parity with the US, driven by political drive for status or possibly by Chinese President Xi Jinping’s ego. If so, it would be just one of many instances of China pushing for parity in foreign and security policy. It may also be part of a general preparation for any future conflict, which should alarm not just Trump but also other leaders in the Indo-Pacific.

No other reasons make much sense. There is little deterrence logic to China’s nuclear expansion. While some scholars have suggested that China is responding to the US’s offensive and defensive capabilities, this is not particularly convincing, given that the US has not expanded its nuclear arsenal in decades. China’s expansion is more likely the result of China’s ambitions.

Other reasons for the expansion, such as empire-building pressure from within the military establishment, are also unconvincing. Strategic forces are under tight political control in China: decisions definitely flow from the top down. Anyway, such an explanation also fails to explain why a change is happening now. There is little indication that military is more influential (the evidence suggests the opposite) or that its views on nuclear force sizing have changed.

Whatever the reason, China’s nuclear expansion itself is considerable and its end state is unclear.

If this expansion is driven by the pursuit of parity, the Trump administration will face an uphill battle on nuclear arms control with China. Beijing has faced repeated calls for it to join nuclear arms control agreements, all of which it rejected on the basis that its nuclear forces are much more modest than those of other nuclear states. If China is pursuing parity, it is unlikely to be interested in nuclear arms control for a while.

Territorial tensions in the Indo-Pacific and the question of Taiwan are already raising temperatures. Adding nuclear competition to the mix only raises them further.

Until now, China’s no-first-use policy and the nuclear imbalance between the US and China have been some source of comfort. But there have been indications that China may adopt a launch-on-warning posture, meaning it might fire before suffering confirmed nuclear hits. This departure, combined with the pursuit of parity, will make crises much more dangerous.

China’s secrecy should be viewed as a threat to all nations. US-Russia nuclear arms control agreements have meant that the US could justifiably concentrate on the threat posed by Iranian and North Korean proliferation. Meanwhile, China—already the second biggest military in the world—has covertly gone down the path of nuclear proliferation.

While some refer to Trump’s powers of distraction, Beijing has become a master magician: it has sold a lie to the Indo-Pacific that Australia and its AUKUS partners are nuclear proliferators. As a result, Australia has had to defend nuclear propulsion while China rapidly and secretly expands its nuclear weaponry.

China claims to want only equality but is actually seeking superiority across the military and technology sectors, including in the nuclear sector. Reaching arms control is likely to be more difficult in the context of a dissatisfied and difficult-to-satisfy power.

Even if Beijing engages in arms control arrangements, its nuclear history should make us question its commitment. While the US and Russia cooperated on non-proliferation, China has supported nuclear proliferation in Pakistan, North Korea and possibly even Iran. This is at least partly responsible for the growing interest in nuclear weapons in South Korea and Japan.

Beijing’s wider strategic behaviour is also indirectly encouraging nuclear proliferation among its neighbours, by trying to expel the US from the region and raising their fears that they will be left alone in facing China. In those frightening circumstances, going nuclear may seem more desirable to them, if not urgently necessary.

The growing Chinese nuclear threat should be an important consideration for the Trump administration, as well as for Australia and the Indo-Pacific. Regional allies, such as Australia and Japan, should make China’s nuclear threat a key agenda item with the US, starting with the Quad meeting reportedly happening next week.

Will Trump crack the mystery of Covid-19’s origin?

The Covid-19 pandemic killed an estimated 7.1 million people worldwide, causing global life expectancy to decline by 1.6 years between 2019 and 2021. It disrupted economies, destroyed livelihoods, and strained social cohesion in many countries. Yet no one has been held accountable for it. Will US President-elect Donald Trump change that?

Five years after the emergence of SARS-CoV-2 (the virus that causes Covid-19), we still do not know where the pathogen first arose. Did it emerge naturally in the wet markets of Wuhan, China, or did it escape from the nearby Wuhan Institute of Virology (WIV), where studies into bat coronaviruses were underway?

We do know that China’s government allowed what might have been a local outbreak to morph into a global health crisis. After the first Covid-19 cases were reported in Wuhan, Chinese President Xi Jinping’s regime censored reports about the disease and hid evidence of human-to-human transmission for weeks. Meanwhile, travel to and from Wuhan was allowed to continue unhindered.

Unlike the Muslim gulag in Xinjiang province or naval-base construction in the South China Sea, however, Chinese authorities could not conceal the novel coronavirus for long, nor could the rest of the world ignore it once the secret was out. So many people contracted Covid-19 so quickly that many hospitals were soon overwhelmed, leaving many victims to be treated in tents.

China’s government then shifted from concealment to damage control. State media reframed the crisis in Wuhan as a story of successful recovery, while touting unrealistically low mortality rates. Meanwhile, Xi thwarted international efforts to initiate an independent forensic inquiry into Covid-19’s genesis, which he claimed would amount to ‘origin-tracing terrorism’. The only investigation he allowed was a 2021 joint study with the World Health Organization that China controlled and steered.

While Trump, who was president for the first few months of the pandemic, often highlighted the link between China and Covid-19, his successor, Joe Biden, effectively let China off the hook. Less than a week after his inauguration, Biden produced a presidential memorandum urging federal agencies to avoid mentioning the virus’s geographic origins.

Biden’s goal was to stem a rise in bullying, harassment and hate crimes against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. The toxicity of America’s partisan politics meant that pushing back against racism—which Trump and his cohort often stoked—also meant shutting down any discussion of China’s role in causing the crisis. Social-media platforms, mainstream media, and some prominent US scientists (who hid their conflicts of interest) also aided the suppression of debate about Covid-19.

The partisan divide over whether to investigate China’s responsibility for Covid-19 persists to this day. Just last month, Democrats challenged a 520-page report—produced by the Republican-controlled US House Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Pandemic—which concluded, after a two-year investigation, that the virus likely escaped from the WIV, faulting the report’s methodology. So, while some US government agencies—including the Department of Energy and the FBI—have given credence to the lab-leak theory, there remains no consensus in Washington.

Failure to get to the bottom of where Covid-19 originated may not only allow China to evade responsibility; it will also weaken the world’s ability to prevent another global pandemic. But there is reason to hope that the incoming Trump administration will revive the search for an answer. Beyond Trump’s own willingness to point the finger at China, some of his cabinet picks—notably, Robert Kennedy Jr, as Secretary of Health and Human Services and Jay Bhattacharya as director of the National Institutes of Health (NIH)—challenged prevailing narratives about Covid-19 (albeit sometimes in dangerous ways).

An effective investigation will require considerable transparency from the US. The NIH, the US government’s medical-research agency, was funding studies on bat coronaviruses at the WIV as far back as 2014. The NIH knew that the work was risky; it was being done in China precisely because the US has stricter rules governing ‘gain-of-function’ research, which involves modifying a biological agent’s genetic structure to confer on it new or enhanced activity, such as increasing a pathogen’s transmissibility or virulence. The NIH continued to fund research at the WIV even after multiple State Department cables flagged the lab’s lax safety standards, stopping only after the pandemic began (when it also removed the description of gain-of-function research from its website).

Making matters worse, we now know that the WIV has been carrying out classified research on behalf of the Chinese military since at least 2017. A 2021 State Department fact sheet acknowledged that some US funding for civilian research could have been diverted to secret Chinese military projects at the institute.

One rule of thumb in forensic investigations is to follow the money, so the Trump administration should start by disclosing the full extent of US funding of coronavirus research in China. But investigators will also have to follow the data, meaning that the US will have to disclose the results of the research it funded in Wuhan, which was part of a collaborative US-China scientific program.

Holding China accountable for its role in the pandemic is only the first step. To safeguard humanity’s future, the Trump administration will also have to address a more fundamental issue: dangerous gain-of-function research is still taking place in some labs in China, Russia and the West. The genetic enhancement of pathogens represents the greatest existential threat to humankind ever produced by science, even greater than nuclear weapons. By tightening rules on such activities—or, ideally, prohibiting lab research that could unleash a pandemic—Trump would leave an important positive legacy.

The US, South Korea and Japan should work together on regional challenges

 

With Donald Trump’s return to the presidency now a reality, the Indo-Pacific faces an era of heightened uncertainty driven by North Korea’s growing military capabilities and China’s expanding regional influence. In this environment, trilateral security cooperation between the United States, South Korea and Japan is paramount.

However, Trump’s typical approach to alliances—characterised by unpredictability and transactional diplomacy—poses a challenge to this partnership. A recalibration of policies and priorities will be necessary to ensure that trilateral cooperation is effective and sustainable.

The Indo-Pacific security environment has evolved since Trump’s first term. North Korea has accelerated its nuclear and missile programs, with increasingly sophisticated weapons systems capable of threatening regional and global stability. China’s assertiveness has intensified, manifesting as aggressive actions in the South and East China Seas, economic coercion and expanded military presence.

North Korea presents the most immediate and existential challenge. Trump’s initial approach to Pyongyang, centred on high-profile summits with Kim Jong-un, produced no lasting denuclearisation outcomes. In Trump’s second term, shifts between direct engagement and heightened pressure could create an unpredictable policy environment.

Trilateral security cooperation could be a stabilising mechanism, enabling the three countries to align their deterrence strategies. Integrated missile defence systems, intelligence-sharing networks and joint military exercises are essential tools to counter North Korea’s provocations. Policymakers must also focus on closing operational gaps, such as improving interoperability between the US’s THAAD missile defence system and South Korea and Japan’s Aegis-based defences, to enhance collective security.

China’s regional ambitions require similarly urgent attention. Trump’s return is likely to intensify US-China competition, with a focus on economic decoupling, technological dominance and countering Beijing’s maritime expansion. Cooperation between South Korea, Japan and the US could reinforce freedom of navigation operations in contested waters, secure critical supply chains and strengthen cybersecurity defence. However, Trump’s past insistence on burden-sharing—such as his calls for increased financial repayment for US troop presence—could complicate this dynamic, particularly if allies perceive these demands as undermining mutual trust or commitment to shared objectives.

Historical tensions between South Korea and Japan could also obstruct effective trilateral collaboration. Despite recent steps toward reconciliation, unresolved issues related to historical grievances and territorial disputes continue to strain bilateral relations. The new Trump administration must act as a mediator to prevent these tensions from undermining collective efforts. This will require consistent diplomatic leadership, which was often lacking in Trump’s first term. By institutionalising mechanisms for dialogue and cooperation, such as trilateral defence ministerial meetings and joint crisis planning, the US can help ensure that Seoul and Tokyo remain focused on shared strategic priorities.

Policy implications for a second Trump presidency extend beyond traditional security measures. The evolving nature of threats, including economic security, cyber warfare and technological competition, demands a more comprehensive approach to trilateral cooperation.

Policymakers should prioritise joint investments in critical technologies, such as semiconductor manufacturing and artificial intelligence, to reduce dependency on China and bolster resilience. Expanding cooperation in space-based surveillance and defence systems would further enhance the alliance’s ability to respond to emerging threats. Additionally, public diplomacy is needed to foster greater mutual understanding and support for trilateral cooperation among the populations of all three nations, countering domestic scepticism fuelled by nationalism.

To ensure the long-term viability of trilateral security cooperation, the Trump administration must adopt a more strategic and less transactional approach to alliances. This includes reaffirming commitments to collective defence and providing clear and consistent communication.

Ultimately, Trump’s return to office presents both challenges and opportunities for trilateral security cooperation. While his leadership style and unpredictability may strain alliances, the strategic necessity of collaboration between the US, South Korea and Japan remains undeniable. By addressing operational gaps and expanding the scope of cooperation to include emerging security domains, the trilateral alliance can serve as a cornerstone of Indo-Pacific stability.

In a region defined by rapid change and intensifying competition, the success of this partnership will be a determinant of future peace and security.

Trump’s Greenland grab

In 2019, when Donald Trump first proclaimed that the United States should buy Greenland, Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen rightly dismissed the idea as absurd. Greenland is not for sale, she noted. While Denmark manages the territory’s foreign and security policies, Greenland sees to its own domestic affairs.

But now that Trump is returning to the White House, he believes that it is an absolute necessity for the US to get ownership and control of the huge Arctic territory. And even more shockingly, he says that he will not rule out the use of military force to achieve this objective—though threatening ‘huge tariffs’ remains his preferred option.

Flabbergasting as such pronouncements may seem, they are no laughing matter. Greenland is an important and sensitive diplomatic issue. Its status should be treated with care and compassion, lest a much larger crisis ensue. That would not serve anyone’s interests.

History matters here. Greenland was a Danish colony until 1953, when it became an actual province of Denmark. The vast island (the world’s largest, in fact) then adopted home rule in 1979. Since 2009, Greenland and the Kingdom of Denmark have maintained a wide-ranging autonomy arrangement in which a few policy domains—primarily security and defence—remain under the control of the government in Copenhagen.

Most of Greenland’s political parties aspire to independence for the island, and under the 2009 arrangement, they have the right to organise a referendum for that purpose. But most Greenlanders recognise that it is too early to take such a step. They first must build up the necessary capacities to function as an independent nation-state.

Given Trump’s latest interventions, it is safe to assume that the independence question will dominate Greenland’s next elections, which will be held no later than 6 April. But it is highly doubtful that there will be much support for trading the light hand of Danish rule for the grasping hands of Trump and his MAGA coalition. For better or worse, Greenlanders are committed to the Nordic welfare model and will not want to abandon it in favour of the US’s model.

Although Greenland is not part of the European Union, its people are, by dint of being citizens of Denmark. More than half of the island’s public budget is covered by the Danish government, and 90 percent of its exports (mainly shrimp) go to the EU, where they have privileged access.

While Russia and China also have territorial and economic ambitions in the Arctic, military threats to Greenland are minimal. The closest Russian outpost is 2,000 frozen kilometres away, and China’s two Arctic-capable research vessels seem to be active primarily in the waters around Antarctica.

Moreover, under a 1951 agreement (and subsequent ones), the US already has the right to base military facilities on Greenland. The Thule Air Base in the far north of the island was a huge facility in the early days of the Cold War, and despite public denials, it even housed nuclear weapons. Renamed the Pituffik Space Base, it now serves early-warning and space-surveillance functions. But as long as the US military consults Danish and Greenland authorities, it can do more or less what it wants on the island.

Denmark, for its part, operates patrol ships around Greenland, and it will soon acquire surveillance drones; but the primary purpose for its small military presence has been search and rescue.

Of course, the legacy of colonialism is never easy to deal with. Some 88 percent of Greenlanders are Inuit, and the Greenland-Denmark relationship today is not free of complicated issues from the past. But the US, hardly covered in glory by its treatment of its own indigenous population, is in no position to preach to others about similar issues.

True, Greenland has large reserves of the rare earth minerals that are used in many high-tech products. But the investment climate for extracting these resources is far from ideal, given the new political uncertainty around the island, the lack of manpower, and the fragile natural environment. Indeed, Greenland and the rest of the Arctic is warming at least twice as fast as the rest of the planet, and this translates into economic, social, and political fragility. That is all the more reason to manage Greenland’s slow journey toward more autonomy—and perhaps eventually independence—carefully, not with bombast and bullying.

Trump’s indecent proposal, delivered at the barrel of a gun, is not only absurd but dangerous. Greenland’s evolving light-touch relationship with Denmark is clearly the best option for the island.

In dealing with China, Trump just needs to step up his first-term approach

As in his first term, Donald Trump should continue a resolute approach toward China in his second term. This approach was and is grounded in the belief that a more assertive posture will deter China’s expansionist ambitions, reinforce US credibility among allies and safeguard economic and technological leadership.

Trump’s track record and cabinet nominations suggest a consistent approach moving forward, with several initiatives needing only formal adoption or targeted reinforcement of existing policies.

The United States should, and under Trump’s leadership again probably will, prioritise four key objectives: counter Chinese advances in the Indo-Pacific, insist on Taiwanese self-defence, oppose Beijing’s predatory economic practices, and compete in economic and technological development.

Key priorities of the first administration included promoting US interests, economic prosperity and preserving peace through strength. Trump’s proposed foreign policy team for his second administration, including Senator Marco Rubio as secretary of state and Michael Waltz as national security advisor, signals a maintained firm stance on China, reflecting the general trajectory of the first term.

Their records suggest the new administration’s priorities will include more stringent economic and cybersecurity policies to address evolving challenges posed by China. As secretary of state, Rubio may also spotlight China’s human rights violations, potentially amplifying international pressure on Beijing. Overall, however, the tone and intent will likely follow Trump’s previous hardline approach.

One of the most pressing foreign policy challenges is China’s growing global influence through economic coercion. The first Trump administration’s recalibration of US-China relations included confronting predatory economic practices, prioritising US business interests and asserting technological leadership.

The Biden administration largely continued these strategies, affirming their effectiveness. The incoming administration is likely to build on this foundation, focusing on peace through strength, advancing technological competitiveness and bolstering economic resilience.

Countering China’s advances in the Indo-Pacific is another priority. To do so, the US military will need to modernise key capabilities such as space, cyber and missile defence systems. Since Trump promoted military modernisation in the 2017 National Security Strategy and 2018 National Defense Strategy, it’s likely to be a key strategy under his second administration.

Trump’s first-term efforts to push allies to share the financial and operational burdens of defending the free world have yielded results, particularly among NATO members. NATO’s annual defence spending increased due to additional contributions from several European allies, while Germany committed to significant military spending hikes. Expect more of this in Trump’s second term, strengthening collective security and alleviating the US’s disproportionate burden.

To confront China’s ambitions in the Indo-Pacific, the US needs to deepen cooperation with allies through joint exercises, intelligence-sharing and expanded base access. NATO and like-minded democracies have expressed shared commitment to a free and open Indo-Pacific, presenting an opportunity for unified action. Trump has endorsed AUKUS, talks for which began under his first administration.

Taiwan remains a flashpoint. Since 1972, the US’s One China policy has insisted that the Taiwan question must be solved peacefully by the two sides themselves. Accordingly, one of the main provisions of the 1979 Taiwan Relations Act places the burden of defending the island on Taiwan. Trump’s demonstrated expectation that allies must help themselves indicates he will expect Taipei to do more.

Taiwan must strengthen its military capacity, harden key infrastructure and reduce its reliance on foreign military support. Previous administrations have rarely demanded this, but the incoming administration should strongly encourage Taiwan’s self-reliance in defence matters. Enhanced self-sufficiency and readiness are essential to preserving peace and minimising the risk that the US would have to intervene to defend the island. Taiwan must make the costs of invasion and occupation prohibitively high for China.

The US must also lead in countering China’s predatory economic practices, including forced technology transfers and state subsidies. Promoting compliance with international trade rules, diversifying supply chains and supporting US businesses will strengthen the global economic order. Free-market principles and expanded trade partnerships will challenge China’s state-driven model and showcase the benefits of an open, rules-based system.

To outpace China’s ambitions, the US must invest in critical technologies—such as AI, quantum computing and advanced manufacturing—and diversify critical mineral supply chains. Trump’s 2017 National Security Strategy emphasised the strategic value of innovation, underscoring the need for continued investment in research and development to protect US security, create jobs and drive economic growth. In 2017 Trump signed an executive order addressing the US’s reliance on foreign sources of critical minerals.

Strengthening public-private partnerships and securing supply chains will safeguard US infrastructure and economic independence. Trump is likely to continue this trend in his second term.

This cohesive strategy—one that’s designed to counter China’s influence, strengthen alliances and promote peace—is a vision for the incoming administration that’s consistent with the core principles of Trump’s first term.

From the bookshelf: ‘American Policy Discourses on China’

In her new book, Yan Chang Bennett explores historical US views of China. They have ranged from evangelical promises of redemption to hard-nosed capitalism exploiting vast opportunities. Bennett argues that these perspectives have shaped US foreign policy for centuries and often form the bases of China policy for new administrations.

Based on examination of recently declassified foreign-policy documents, Bennett guides readers through three centuries of United States-China relations focusing on three pivotal moments: president Richard Nixon’s rapprochement with China; Jimmy Carter’s normalising of US-China relations, and Bill Clinton’s advocacy of China’s World Trade Organization (WTO) accession.

Before Nixon’s presidency, China was viewed in the US as a communist foe. The administration reshaped policy and in doing so drew on 19th and early 20th century US views and sentiments. These included a mix of missionary impulse and the idea of China as an untapped economic opportunity. Nixon promoted the idea that China, if left in isolation, would be an aggrieved giant threatening global peace, whereas reintegrating it into the global community would bring advantages to the US and also to China.

Building on Nixon’s rapprochement policy, and in line with earlier notions that helping China was the US’s ‘special undertaking’, the Carter administration saw the country as a candidate for democratisation as well as a vast market for US goods. It believed that if China normalised relations with the US, its economy could move to free markets, and its system of government could become more like those of Western Europe and the US. Bennett’s historical analysis shows Carter could not have been more naive about these reform prospects when dealing with China’s then leader, Deng Xiaoping.

It was at that time the US acknowledged the Chinese position ‘that there is but one China and Taiwan is part of China’, declaring, however, that the US would ‘maintain cultural, commercial, and other unofficial relations with the people of Taiwan’ and that it would ‘continue to have an interest in the peaceful resolution of the Taiwan issue.’ The US opened official diplomatic relations with the People’s Republic of China on 1 January 1979.

Clinton’s presidency, in turn, built on the policy steps taken by Nixon and Carter by championing China’s accession to the WTO. He too was convinced this would lead to liberalisation and democratisation. Bennett argues this enduring belief reflects those long 19th century US attitudes. They were false. At the same time these US policies were being advanced, the Chinese government held its own shrewd and pragmatic perspectives about its relationship with the US, concerned about its interests and historical contexts.

US activities to assist China’s entry to the WTO, which Clinton predicted would enable almost unlimited access to the Chinese market, were flawed on many levels. Systematic misinterpretations came from US perceptions of China that were not rooted in reality.

China did not go for fundamental economic liberalisation, and Bennett says Clinton’s China hands should not have expected any such thing from China’s authoritarian government. For example, Beijing established tighter controls over its giant state-owned enterprises and pegged its currency to the dollar at artificially low levels, ‘bestowing significant competitive advantages to Chinese exporters’.

As Bennett says, it is now clear that WTO accession granted China entry into the world economy, fuelling its astounding economic growth. But what was also clear all along is that China acted in its own economic interest, exploiting Clinton’s vocal support. Not once in Clinton’s eight years in power from 1993 did China say it would become a democracy in the likeness of the US or would make economic reforms that would lead to political liberalisation.

With China rejecting Western ideologies, Bennett advocates a pragmatic reassessment of US policy. She argues it must avoid ‘emotional rhetoric, and idealised frameworks’, such as the belief in liberalisation and democratisation which drove support for China’s accession to the WTO, even though evidence for such hope was weak.

Bennett sees an enduring nature in 19th and early 20th century US perceptions of China, with their repetition in current US policy. Present narratives continue to emphasise China as ‘buried deeply in the past’. They extend to China’s leader, Xi Jinping, who is presented in media as a ‘timeless Confucian emperor’.  In fact, since his birth after the establishment of the People’s Republic, his entire education has been steeped in Marxist-Leninist principles of governance.

Using historical data, Bennett’s book offers insights for the incoming administration of Donald Trump. Her analysis matters in a world where China charts an independent path under Xi Jinping and where Trump’s agenda of making America great again aims to counter perceptions of US decline.

Since Trump’s 2024 victory, Bennett has separately proposed six ways for the US to counter China: modernising US military capabilities; prioritising the Indo-Pacific; strengthening economic leverage; sharing the burden of global leadership; investing in technology and innovation; and building energy independence and resilience.

Trump-proofing the Quad

The Quad was revived in Donald Trump’s first term as president, but that does not guarantee he will pay much attention to it during his second. Non-US Quad members will need to demonstrate its ongoing value, make its purpose clear and find a strong advocate to make this case.

Back in 2017 the resurrection of the Quad was one of the strongest signals that, after almost a year of uncertainty in Asia policy, the first Trump administration had committed to strategic competition with China. Its revival was met with almost audible sighs of relief in Canberra, New Delhi and Tokyo, where fear of abandonment had gripped policy elites since the election. Australia, Japan and India had all been rattled by the new president’s open hostility to alliances and by talk that he might cut a grand bargain with Xi Jinping over their heads. The Quad’s revival showed that the Trump administration was more committed to regional security and prosperity and more convinced of the value of working with long-standing partners than the president’s rhetoric had sometimes suggested.

Since then the Quad has evolved beyond a vehicle for reassuring friends, signalling resolve, sharing assessments of China’s capabilities and intentions and discussing ways to work together more closely and effectively. It now has a broad agenda, ranging from artificial intelligence to space situational awareness, and year-round interaction, from leaders’ summits to ambassadorial meetings.

Yet none of this—neither the history nor the activity nor the level of trust and comfort felt by officials involved in these processes—ensures the Quad will survive or prosper during the second Trump administration. The president-elect is not known for sentimentality, so the revival of the Quad that he saw on his watch is unlikely to sway his view of its value. Trump is likely to ask how much the minilateral costs the United States and what it delivers, not in terms of public goods provided to others but tangible gains for American interests.

Canberra, New Delhi and Tokyo may be able to work with Trump’s national security team to find at least some answers to these questions, as they did during his first term. As secretary of state during much of that time, Mike Pompeo emerged as a strong champion of the Quad, facilitating the upgrades to regular foreign ministers’ meetings and then leaders’ summits. In theory at least, any one of the China hawks whom Trump has nominated for high positions—Marco Rubio for secretary of state, Peter Hegseth as secretary of defense and Mike Waltz as national security advisor—could play a similar role, if the Senate approves their appointments.

The problem, however, is that the Quad lacks a robust advocate outside the US. In 2017 prime minister Shinzo Abe quickly established himself as an adept Trump whisperer, proposed the reconvening of the grouping and rallied regional allies and partners to the cause. Today, it is not clear whether Anthony Albanese, Narendra Modi or Shigeru Ishiba are willing and able to do the job.

Of the three, Albanese is the least likely, given the looming election. The Indian prime minister is better positioned, given an established relationship with Trump and a relatively successful track record of playing to his whims. Modi is also due to host the next Quad summit in India, sometime in 2025. But Japan’s newly elected leader might be the best candidate for the role.

Ishiba has long spoken with clarity on regional security—and clarity is one thing the Quad needs. Politicians and bureaucrats from all four members will tell anyone who asks, entirely sincerely, that the grouping has achieved much in the last seven years. But even they still struggle to express what it aims to do and why it operates as it does. The sprawling and ever-expanding agenda does not help. Nor does a certain evasiveness in talking about China, due partly to deference to sensitivities of Southeast Asian elites, and reluctance to even talk about quadrilateral defence cooperation.

This timid approach is unlikely to find much sympathy in the Trump White House. If the Quad is to survive and continue the good work it is doing on maritime security, critical technologies, cyber and connectivity, it will need a harder edge and a clearer purpose. The region does not need the Asian NATO that Ishiba has mooted, but there is good work the Quad could and should do to deter Chinese and indeed Russian adventurism in the Indo-Pacific. Front and centre should be defence industrial and technological cooperation; enhanced interoperability; capacity-building for regional navies and air forces, not just coastguards; improved logistics and rights of access; and greater intelligence- and data-sharing.

This agenda will not succeed, however, if it makes greater demands on US leadership and resources. Others need to step up, and fast.

War and appeasement: why a deal with Putin will backfire

US president-elect Donald Trump’s boast that he will quickly negotiate a deal with Vladimir Putin about Russia’s war with Ukraine is likely to fail. This will be the case even though Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky claimed last month that the war ‘will end sooner’ under Trump.

The question is: in whose favour will it end?

My central concern here is that all this is occurring as the military outlook for Ukraine is grim. How long Ukraine can keep going militarily is uncertain and Kyiv may be unable to resist a demand for a Trump deal. This uncertainty is made worse by nobody knowing what Trump will actually do.

Trump grievously underrates Putin’s determination to win his war at all costs. And Putin will not allow peace talks to get in the way of eliminating Ukraine as a nation-state. He continues to assert that there is no such country as Ukraine. He also makes it brutally clear that Ukraine can never be allowed to be a member of NATO.

Last month, in reaction to the United States allowing Ukraine to use longer-range missiles (such as the 300km-range Army Tactical Missile System) to strike deeper into Russia, Putin has promised ‘an appropriate and palpable response’. But this is not the first time Putin has promised, in effect, a nuclear response.

As NATO’s former secretary-general Jens Stoltenberg has noted, if Putin wants to escalate with the use of weapons of mass destruction, he can create all the excuses he needs but ‘so far, we have called his bluff’. And the Pentagon has just announced there are no increased signs of a higher level of Russian nuclear alert.

There are, however, different opinions on this contingency. Kim Darroch, Britain’s former national security adviser, warned that allowing Britain’s long-range Storm Shadow missiles to be fired by Ukraine into Russia ‘risks a major escalation of the conflict’.

So, after almost three years of war, Putin’s views are in fact even more—not less—expansive. According to Anne Applebaum, a leading Russia expert, Putin is fighting not only to destroy Ukraine as a nation but he also wants to show that America, NATO and the West are weak and indecisive, regardless of who is the US president.

Putin believes he and his ‘closest friend’, Chinese President Xi Jinping, are the world’s leading authoritarian powers, increasingly powerful militarily and attractive not only to North Korea and Iran but also to many of the so-called global south countries.

More than 70 percent of Russians now are apparently of the view that the West, led by NATO and the US, is seeking to fundamentally destroy Russia. A large majority of Russians allegedly now see the West as an existential threat to the Russian motherland. So, Putin is about winning much more than a war with Ukraine.

Then there is the question of Putin’s personality. Unlike Trump, Putin has been Russia’s dominant authoritarian leader for practically a quarter of a century now. And there is no sign—at least foreseeable—of any credible opposition to him. He recently has implied that China and Russia have created a new geopolitical concept for world order that is stronger than a confused and inward-looking US.

As a former KGB officer, Putin was trained to believe the ‘correlation of world forces’ is logically moving towards Russia’s national interests because of the collective weakness of the West.

According to Alexander Gabuev, director of the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Centre in Berlin, ‘The sad truth is that the fight against the West has become the organising principle of Putin’s regime and has created too many beneficiaries to be abandoned any time soon. Trump or no Trump, Russia’s foreign policy will be guided by anti-Americanism for at least as long as Putin is in the Kremlin.’

Gabuev goes on to argue that mistrust between Russia and the West will outlast the Trump era. He also argues that while the Kremlin remains guarded in its official expectations of the new US administration, the hope in Moscow is that Trump’s presidency will be ‘a gift that keeps on giving’.

This is because Trump has pledged to end the war in Ukraine quickly and the main fear in Western capitals is that he will drastically reduce military support for an embattled Ukraine—greatly to Russia’s advantage.

But Trump’s anxiety to reach some form of a deal on Ukraine next year will not eliminate the root causes of the Kremlin’s confrontation with the West.

Rather, it will only confirm in Putin’s mind the lurch of the US to be inward-looking with Trump’s preoccupation to ‘make America great again’.

This brings us to what form such a Trump deal might involve. Trump’s vice-president, JD Vance, appears to be toying with the idea of an exchange of Ukrainian territory for a ceasefire. This might involve acknowledging Russia’s current occupation of 18 percent of the territory of Ukraine—which includes not only Crimea, Luhansk and Donetsk but also Kherson and Zaporizhzhia—in exchange for a ceasefire that will be internationally supervised. By whom? Presumably, Putin will categorically reject the presence of any NATO troops on Russia’s border with Ukraine.

In my view, such a ceasefire and territorial settlement would leave Putin with the freedom to rearm the Russian military with a view to a massive attack when he is ready, which might be aimed at occupying the entire eastern half of Ukraine along the Dnipro River from Kyiv to Odesa.

But as Gabuev’s colleague Tatiana Stanovaya observes, no Western leader—including Trump—has a plan for ending the war that would be remotely acceptable to Putin. She says none of the mooted solutions comes close to meeting Russian demands for a pro-Russian government in Kyiv and a NATO that will never admit Ukraine to its membership. There are also many in Moscow who argue that Russia should not squander its current battlefield advantage for the empty promise of talks with Washington.

There are other options being toyed with in Europe. For example, there is the model of West and East Germany after World War II. The latter was a Soviet-occupied puppet regime called the German Democratic Republic, which few countries in Western Europe recognised. It existed cheek by jowl with an independent Federal Republic of Germany, which—unlike the GDR—was internationally recognised and was a key member of NATO. That model existed for more than 40 years until the disintegration of the Soviet Union.

The problem with extrapolating that model to today’s Europe is that at that time the US continued to support NATO through its large Cold War military presence in West Germany for more than a half-century and the US was also undoubtedly the strongest military power in the world. Arguably, neither of these facts exist right now.

Now we face a situation with an America that is decidedly turning inwards in focus. As Charles Kupchan (who was special assistant to the US president on the National Security Council from 2014 to 2017) argues in his book Isolationism: A history of America’s efforts to shield itself from the world, the central question is not whether the US retrenches but whether it does so by design or by default. He considers that the likelier outcome is retrenchment by default—an unplanned and perilous American retreat from global affairs.

In other words, a disruptive inward turn is now a real possibility for today’s America—more so than when Kupchan’s book was written four years ago. Trump’s clarion call of making America great again may mark ‘an unplanned and perilous American retreat from global affairs’. And there can be little doubt that Putin is about to test Trump’s mettle in this regard over Ukraine.

After congratulating Trump on his election, Putin implied he would have discussions only if the US initiated talks (he will not talk directly with Zelensky), dropped its economic sanctions and refused to offer any further support for Ukraine. In other words, Putin demands a Russian victory and the complete and utter destruction of Ukraine as a separate country.

And let’s not pretend that Putin’s ambition to restore Russia’s past empire in the ‘near abroad’—especially the Baltic countries and Poland—would be satiated if he wins in Ukraine. Far from it: this war in Ukraine is not just some distant territorial dispute, as some members of Trump’s inner circle assert. If things go horribly wrong in Ukraine, we could see a wider war in Europe.

Trump’s idea of negotiating a swift end to the war is unrealistic while Ukraine is fighting an outright invasion for its existence, not just a territorial dispute. Stopping the war now on Moscow’s terms will only further encourage Putin’s highly dangerous adventurism.

Putting economics before security leaves us exposed to Trump’s tariffs

World leaders convening at the APEC and G20 multilateral summits this week seemed to be nervously shadow boxing Donald Trump, who was relaxing ringside at the Ultimate Fighting Championship in New York.

Anthony Albanese recited talking points on ‘free and fair trade’—not to influence any counterparts present but as a message to Trump that Australia was well placed to be exempted from any broad tariffs that the incoming administration might impose. In doing so, he cited the healthy trade surplus that the United States enjoys with Australia, which will indeed be an important starting point.

But the Albanese government needs to reflect a little more deeply on the direction it has taken on economics and security before it assumes its credentials speak for themselves as befitting a reliable global player and partner.

In 2024, it’s not enough just to say we seek maximum economic engagement with all partners, minimising trade restrictions in pursuit of the frictionless flow of money, goods and services. That might have worked as a Platonic ideal of free trade back in the early 2000s but, as an approach to both free and fair trade in the 2020s, it ignores half the picture.

Australia stood its ground on its own security and sovereignty for a number of years and, as a consequence, incurred the wrath of Beijing in the form of several waves of economic coercion and diplomatic unapproachability. We did this not under pressure from Trump during his first administration—nor any other US government—but because it was in our own interests and adhered to our values.

Yet despite Albanese’s insistence that we ‘have not changed our position’ on anything, Australia has steadily become silent and acquiescent on key issues that would risk upsetting Beijing. In return, we have been rewarded with diplomatic charm and trade assurances. We have, in short, chosen domestic economics over our national security and our standing as a stout defender of an international system based on rules. We have all too quickly forgotten that economics and security are inseparable.

How so? We’ve failed to stand up for our neighbours, including the Philippines, as they are bullied by China in the South China Sea. We withdrew from World Trade Organization cases that would have held Beijing to account for its coercive measures and set an example to the rest of the world. We’ve gone completely silent on China’s appalling human rights record. We have stopped referring to the case of Australian Yang Hengjun as arbitrary detention. We say nothing about China’s support for Russia’s war on Ukraine. We are dawdling on defence investment when we should be readying ourselves to make a steadfast contribution to regional security as Beijing flexes its muscle across the Indo-Pacific. We’ve all but lost interest in the diversification that we agreed was vital for our resilience in the wake of the double hit of China’s coercion and the global shockwaves of the Covid pandemic.

We should do all of these first and foremost because they are the right things to do. But they would also mean we could say with real conviction that Australia is not one of those countries that is relying on the US to singlehandedly make the world a fair place for everyone—even those unwilling to carry some of the load themselves by, for instance, investing in their own defence and security.

To be sure, Trump’s global tariffs threats are a blunt instrument, articulated with his characteristic flair for appealing to the sections of US society—a clear majority, as it turns out—who feel that the world is taking advantage of them. We can hope that Trump will distinguish between allies—even if he is right to grumble that some have free-ridden on US security and leadership—and adversaries such as China, which was welcomed onto a level economic playing field only to cheat remorselessly at every turn of the game.

But we shouldn’t easily assume we’d be exempted as we were from Trump’s steel and aluminium tariffs in 2017. The fact is, our exemption back then was won by proving we were investing in our own security and were a true partner to the US rather than a hanger-on.

AUKUS provides us with a good starting point this time, demonstrating real investment in our own security and in the alliance. But the partnership is not enough on its own, when we are cutting other defence programs, including in space security, while also criticising countries that can’t harm us economically—whether friends such as  Israel or foes such as North Korea—while excusing China’s malign behaviour as just what ‘great powers do’.

Albanese only ever answers China questions with the same trope that Australia is ‘cooperating where we can and disagreeing where we must’. This is not good enough when we don’t actually know where we disagree anymore, nor indeed if the ‘must have’ disagreements would arise only if China used military force.

For Albanese to be able to prove his statement in Peru that Australia is a free and fair trading nation, we need to show we are willing not just to reap the benefits of selling goods to China but to share the burden of security requirements.

Instead we are pursuing our economic interests with China while deprioritising security threats to ensure diplomatic meetings, as well as lobster and wine sales. That’s trade, yes. But it’s neither free nor fair.

Relying on the US, as well as other friends such as Japan, to do the heavy lifting on security is not equitable. It is actually an ‘Australia first’ policy—even while we fret about Trump’s putting America first.