Tag Archive for: Lebanon

‘You’ll shut me down with a push of your button’: 21st century sabotage

Hezbollah’s pagers and radios surreptitiously changed into anti-personnel explosive devices and detonated across Lebanon and Syria. Russia-linked fires plague European and American factories supporting Ukraine’s defence. Ukrainian nationals implicated in the Nord Stream 2 pipeline bombing. Concerns raised about Chinese components in systems internationally, at moments of future crisis. Alarm on the Olympics’ opening day, as arsonists strike France’s high-speed railway network.

Sabotage—destroying, damaging or obstructing for military and/or political advantage—is back.

Australia needs to learn from these events and adopt such responses as checking equipment and keeping an eye on supply chains.

In fact, sabotage never really went away. Just as we’ve become habituated to fraud in a digital society, we became tolerant of sabotage. Until Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Europe accepted too many acts against it. We should not repeat these mistakes in the Indo-Pacific.

Sabotage for military advantage had its heyday during World War II when Britain’s Special Operations Executive (SOE) was instructed to set occupied Europe ablaze. During the early Cold War, western security services focused on protecting industrial plants. This interest was deepened in the 1970s by revelations of Soviet planning for sabotage in Britain and elsewhere should the Cold War turn hot.

Until recently, modern sabotage was conceived as a matter of ones and zeroes. Even during the Cold War, the best-known example of anti-USSR sabotage was in the 1980s, when the CIA modified software destined for Soviet gas pipeline controls. Once installed, it caused explosions resulting in massive system malfunctions and devastating damage, undermining the commercial viability of energy exports and wasting Moscow’s limited hard currency.

Then there was Stuxnet, an early 21st century computer virus that was designed to destroy Iran’s nuclear centrifuges and was attributed to both the US and Israel by media reporting.

Sabotaging hardware is much more logistically difficult than sabotaging software. At the scale used against Hezbollah, it’s extraordinary.

Imagine what this would have required: detailed real-time intelligence insights into Hezbollah’s logistics and operations; sustained, clandestine access to the target equipment, and the right skills to emplace and conceal the explosives; rigorous operational security; and plenty of luck.

Should we be worried about such a tactic being used against Australians, including by terrorists?

At this scale, supply chain interference with such lethality is likely only a capability for sophisticated state actors. Yes, there have been terrorist concealments beyond the stereotypical placement of explosives in luggage—notably in a meat grinder in 2017, printer cartridges in 2010, and worn shoes and clothing—but these didn’t involve intruding into supply chains. Also, there are cheaper and easier supply-chain opportunities for terrorists, such as copying the lacing of Tylenol with cyanide in Chicago in 1982.

The fundamental answer, especially in an Australian context, is prosaic but also more insidious. When your manufacturing base exists almost wholly outside of your borders and includes potential adversaries, you’re unavoidably vulnerable. While state actors may not have the intent now, they certainly could in a conflict scenario, hence why ‘suppliers of concern’ were excluded from our 5G communications systems.

This asks a hard question of government: to what extent are the supply chains of our critical infrastructure dominated by rivals or adversaries who might wish to harm us, perhaps even before a conflict?

There are other lessons:

—Cyber threats can’t be avoided simply by retrogression (for example, Hezbollah trading smart phones for pagers). It’s worth remembering that even carrier pigeons can conceivably be a vector for sabotage: MI4d, responsible for Britain’s World War II pigeon capability, took precautions when retrieving messages from birds returning from Europe, fearing German tampering.

—Entangling counterintelligence and sabotage (and hybrid warfare) threatens to degrade norms of intelligence contest that eschew violence (such as those observed in the Cold War, or at least in its more gentlemanly theatres). The mannered boulevards of international espionage could end up looking more like the rougher alleyways of counterterrorism.

—Indeed, there can be an intended auxiliary intelligence objective to sabotage such as that directed against Hezbollah. It drives targets to use communication methods that are less efficient and maybe more conducive to intelligence collection. It also sows distrust and internal conflict, distancing targets from their support networks internally and externally.

What should be done to guard against sabotage like this?

Be more security conscious in government procurement. Think about security in the same way we typically think about insurance: as an investment in addressing risk. Test procured equipment randomly and systematically and have standing technical capabilities to do so.

Know your supply chain, as difficult as this is amid the lack of clarity inherent in globalisation.

Randomise and obfuscate sensitive procurement channels and destinations. And recognise the potential value of seemingly benign logistical and technical information and take appropriate steps to protect it.

However, also be clear-eyed. There are economic costs that must be balanced against considered risks and the opportunity costs of using security resources in this way. Those costs reveal an additional objective to sabotage: diverting resources away from defence capability to securing supply chains and inventories.

These are the difficult choices of the new age when our ‘crystal ball ain’t so crystal clear’.

Remotely exploding pagers highlight supply chain risks

The attacks against Hezbollah using weaponised pagers and walkie talkies serve as a stark reminder of the dangers of compromised supply chains and why Australia must secure its own against the threats from China.

While the full details about the devices are yet to emerge, the operation—presumed to be carried out by Israel though not declared as such—indicates what could happen if supply chains were exploited in more subtle but equally insidious ways. For nations like Australia, the consequences could be just as catastrophic.

While infiltrating electronic supply chains is not a new tactic, these incidents highlight the dramatically growing sophistication of supply chain attacks. Prior to this operation, the most famous one was the Shin Bet’s 1996 assassination of Hamas’s chief bombmaker, Yahya Ayyash, using a rigged mobile phone.

With rising geopolitical tensions, particularly involving China, the risk of compromised hardware bound for Australia is alarmingly real, particularly considering China’s industrial capacity to produce at mass quantities.

China, as the world’s largest maker of electronic devices, plays a pivotal role in the global supply chain. But its dominance raises concerns, especially given its growing assertiveness and accusations of espionage and sabotage. There are genuine fears that China could exploit its control over the supply chain to insert vulnerabilities into hardware bound for Australia, whether for surveillance or sabotage.

A much-debated Bloomberg article of 2018, ‘The Big Hack’, brought hardware-based supply chain attacks into the public consciousness, citing Chinese involvement in planting microchips in American servers. Although the report’s validity remains contested, classified intelligence has long suggested that China’s role in compromised supply chains represents a significant and ongoing threat. While awareness of these threats has grown, action to mitigate them has not kept pace.

As early as 2011, the US Department of Defense warned that supply chain vulnerabilities were a ‘central aspect of the cyber threat’, stressing that over-reliance on foreign factories ‘provides broad opportunities for foreign actors to subvert US supply chains’. More than a decade later, this warning is more relevant than ever. Yet little progress has been made to secure critical infrastructure components that remain vulnerable to supply chain threats.

In Australia, the challenge is even more pressing. As a nation that relies heavily on imports for essential goods, from consumer electronics to military hardware, the potential for supply chain interdiction looms large, especially given that much of this equipment is manufactured in China.

Some action has been taken in the software sector, including by Australia and other countries prohibiting the involvement of Chinese suppliers in 5G networks due to concerns about disruption of critical telecommunications infrastructure. But securing one sector or one piece of software must be replicated in all sensitive areas and across both software and hardware.

Electronic devices such as routers, phones and even cars could be compromised at any stage in their journey from the manufacturer to the end user. Interdiction attacks, where hardware is tampered with during transport, are not difficult to execute, especially along complex shipping routes.

The consequences of such breaches extend beyond malfunctioning devices. Compromised electronics can open the door to espionage, sabotage and cyber-attacks, with potentially catastrophic implications for national security. If malicious actors, especially those backed by states, tamper with hardware on a large scale, they could gain access to sensitive data, disrupt critical infrastructure or even disable essential services.

Given these growing threats, Australia must take urgent action to safeguard its supply chains. One critical step is reducing dependence on Chinese manufacturing by investing in local production. For years, Australia has relied on foreign factories, particularly in China, for vital goods. While this reliance has driven down costs, it has exposed the country to risks of foreign tampering. Diversifying supply chains and building capabilities domestically and with close friends will reduce China’s leverage and improve Australia and the regions’ security.

But domestic production alone won’t solve the problem. Australia must also implement more rigorous inspection and testing protocols for imported goods. Currently, shipments pass through multiple jurisdictions, leaving opportunities for tampering along the way. Such advanced technologies as blockchain-based tracking systems can ensure shipments remain untampered with during transport, while hardware integrity testing can catch compromised devices before they reach critical infrastructure.

While no single measure will eliminate the risk of supply chain attacks, a combination of strategies can significantly reduce the danger. This will include strengthening domestic manufacturing, enhancing import inspection protocols, collaborating with trusted allies and adopting cutting-edge security technologies. The threat posed by compromised supply chains, particularly from China, is real. These vulnerabilities only become more urgent as the geopolitical situation becomes more volatile.

The recent events in Lebanon shouldn’t be seen only as distant and against a terrorist organisation but rather a stark reminder of what can happen when supply chains are compromised. For Australia, the stakes are too high to ignore. By taking proactive steps now to secure our supply chains from potential threats the country can protect our critical infrastructure, safeguard our national security, and ensure our future remains in our own hands, not China’s.

Beirut blast could lead to another civil war in Lebanon

Last week, a warehouse stocked with nearly 3,000 tons of ammonium nitrate blew up, laying waste to the port of Beirut and ripping through much of the rest of the Lebanese capital. At least 200 people were killed, thousands were wounded, and hundreds of thousands were rendered homeless. For a country that was already roiled by political and economic crisis, the challenges ahead just became more profound. Even with the resignation of the country’s government, the only chance of overcoming them lies in root-and-branch reform of Lebanon’s political system and regional alliances.

According to Beirut’s governor, total economic losses from the blast may reach US$15 billion. Yet the Lebanese state is already on the brink of bankruptcy. And, with an incompetent kleptocratic regime running the country, no international lender, including the International Monetary Fund, is willing to offer it loans.

To be sure, in the wake of the latest crisis, Lebanon will receive considerable international aid. Already, donors have pledged nearly US$300 million in humanitarian assistance at a virtual summit, in order to support healthcare, food security, education and housing.

That money doesn’t come for free. To keep it from falling into ‘corrupt hands’, as French President Emmanuel Macron has put it, the aid will be routed through the United Nations, international organisations and NGOs, rather than the Lebanese government. They know that, if the country’s current rulers are in control of the finances, their contributions will only perpetuate corruption and crisis. Alas, this is just a temporary financial palliative that cannot address the root causes of Lebanon’s maladies, and could indeed relieve internal pressure on the country’s political class.

Yes, international donors are calling for political and economic reform. But the sad truth is that overcoming Lebanon’s powerful vested interests—including both its domestic ruling class and the external powers, such as Iran and Syria, that wield considerable domestic influence—will be next to impossible. Lebanese President Michel Aoun, a Hezbollah puppet, would not even agree to the call for an international inquiry into the port blast, claiming that this could ‘dilute the truth’.

Lebanon’s polity reflects the country’s permanent sectarian strife. All that stands between relative calm and violent chaos is a fragile power-sharing system encompassing competing ethnic and religious groups, including Maronite Christians, Druze and Sunni and Shia Muslims.

But that system has long depended on massive capital inflows, which allowed the sectarian elite to entrench itself through patronage. A sudden stop to inflows last year shattered the system’s foundations, spurring widespread protests and shaking Lebanon’s delicate peace.

Yet Lebanon’s internal dynamics can hardly be separated from regional developments. Lebanon’s sectarian politics have enabled foreign powers to gain a strong foothold in the country, turning it into an integral part of the Iran-led ‘axis of resistance’ against Israel’s and America’s regional designs.

Iran’s lavish support for Hezbollah has enabled the Shia political party and militia to become what is probably the world’s most powerful non-state actor, with military capabilities that dwarf those of Lebanon’s army. It is telling that, when Macron visited Beirut after the port explosion, crowds chanted, ‘free us from Hezbollah’.

But Hezbollah enjoys broad-based support among Lebanon’s Shia, who comprise almost one-third of the country’s population and form the most powerful sect, politically and militarily. Perhaps more important, Lebanon’s sovereignty continues to be subverted by Iran, which is committed to using Hezbollah to advance its own strategic priorities. When the Beirut blast occurred, a United Nations–backed special tribunal was days away from issuing its verdict in the trial of four alleged members of Hezbollah for the 2005 murder of former Lebanese Prime Minister (and Saudi Arabia’s man in Beirut) Rafik Hariri.

Of course, Iran’s regional designs have spurred resistance: the spectre of an Israel–Hezbollah war has lately been growing. The Beirut blast’s silver lining may be that it averts—or at least forestalls—such a conflict, in which Israel would destroy Lebanon’s infrastructure to neutralise the 150,000 missiles that Hezbollah has concealed among the civilian population before they devastate Israel’s vulnerable home front.

Lebanon’s distress makes it more difficult for Israel to conduct such a pre-emptive attack on Hezbollah’s military capabilities and discourages Hezbollah from antagonising Israel. But whatever mutual deterrent exists is fragile, at best. If Hezbollah (with Iran’s help) develops precision-guided missiles, all bets will be off.

Even without such weaponry, the international community’s hope of using aid as leverage to bring about change—a hope shared not only by Western powers like France, but also potentially by Saudi Arabia and the other Gulf states—is unlikely to bear fruit. As Macron himself reportedly told US President Donald Trump, sanctions against Hezbollah play into the hands of those they are meant to weaken, including Iran.

That said, Lebanon’s vibrant and well-developed civil society has forced change before. After Hariri’s assassination, the Cedar Revolution—a series of demonstrations under the motto of ‘freedom, sovereignty and independence’—forced the withdrawal of Syrian troops from Lebanon.

But Lebanese civil society faces far stiffer opposition today than anything the embattled Syrians could mount in 2005. Over the last 15 years, Iran has spent lavishly to turn Lebanon into its strategic playground. As a result, Hezbollah is more powerful and Lebanon more subservient to external powers—including Iran, Syria and Russia—than ever.

These powers will not sit back and allow a reform of the political system that has made Lebanon such a crucial link in their regional strategy, even at the price of turning the country into another Libya. Far from a new Cedar Revolution, efforts to push reform could lead to a conflict much like the civil war of 1975–90, in which foreign powers and rival local militias join forces and tear Lebanon apart.

The hunt for Hezbollah’s weapons and the limits of civil–military cooperation

On 9 August in South Lebanon, a routine patrol of the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) was attacked by civilians. In the course of the incident, their vehicles were set on fire and their weapons and equipment seized. The event was exceptional: UNIFIL rarely encounters this level of violence from the local population. But there’s more to the story than random civilian violence.

In an age in which obtaining local cooperation for foreign militaries is viewed as a useful, if not essential, part of a successful peacekeeping operation, the case of the UNIFIL mission and the hunt for Hezbollah’s weapons provide useful insights into the limits of civil–military cooperation (CIMIC).

Since the six-week war between Israel and Hezbollah in 2006, the UNIFIL force based in South Lebanon has been tasked with overseeing the implementation of UN Security Council resolution 1701, which has three main objectives: maintaining security on the Blue Line between Lebanon and Israel (a line of withdrawal that constitutes the current border); reintroducing the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) to South Lebanon; and clearing South Lebanon of weapons other than those of the Lebanese government.

While the first two tasks have been well managed by the force, it is the third that tests the limits of UNIFIL’s comprehensive CIMIC program. The mission, composed of around 40 nationalities, conducts many CIMIC activities at both mission and battalion levels. For example, it provides free medical and dental care; emergency hospital treatment; funding for infrastructure; classes in yoga, English, cooking and computer skills; and schemes to aid the local economy, such as training in organic agriculture and training for medical staff.

Civilian relations with UNIFIL are good. The local population appreciates the material and technical benefits the mission provides and values the highly responsive nature of the force. The Blue Line is generally respected by locals, and the UNIFIL–LAF relationship is described by both parties as highly productive and congenial.

But when it comes to searching for Hezbollah arms, UNIFIL is caught in the crosshairs of a domestic and international political conflict that it is unable to resolve. The international community would like UNIFIL to fully execute all of its objectives and rid the area of Hezbollah. At the local level, however, many civilians don’t want Hezbollah to give up its weapons. They believe that only Hezbollah can guarantee their security, not UNIFIL, and not the LAF, which, while respected, is regarded as underequipped. As one local councilman I interviewed put it, ‘It’s not that we don’t want our national army to defend us from Israel, but, until now, only Hezbollah has managed to do that for us.’

The debate over Hezbollah’s weapons is also a national one. The Lebanese government is split on the issue. One side, known as the March 14 movement, insists that Hezbollah’s military wing must disband and hand its weapons over to the LAF. Hezbollah argues that the LAF doesn’t have the military training and expertise to present a credible deterrent to Israel.

Hezbollah also suspects that the March 14 movement would use its own weapons against it to destroy the group. That suspicion isn’t entirely unreasonable: WikiLeaks documents revealed that during the 2006 war, elements within the movement were discreetly advising the Israelis where to hit Hezbollah the hardest. Hezbol­lah also argues that the movement is soft on Israel and can’t be trusted to use the LAF against Israel to ensure that Lebanese sovereignty is respected. In other words, Hezbollah argues that it can’t be confident that the state would put its weapons to good use if it were to hand them over.

For UNIFIL, patrolling and searching for unauthorised weapons is a delicate task. Although the LAF is broadly supportive of the mission, it also has to accept that Hezbollah is a legitimate elected part of the Lebanese government, and in fact the dominant faction, to which the LAF ultimately has to answer. Hezbollah’s leader, Hasan Nasrallah, refuses to separate the group’s military wing from its political wing.

UNIFIL’s inability to search private property in South Lebanon, where weapons are believed to be kept, isn’t just due to local support for the group and the risk of blowback in the form of attacks on patrolling troops. As the strategic partner of the LAF, UNIFIL needs to maintain good relations, but the LAF is also sensitive about its relations with the local population, especially in the south where it didn’t patrol until 2006.

Not only does the LAF have to consider its political masters in Beirut, but it’s also reluctant to search property without first obtaining a court order. This issue dates back to the civil war when the LAF was criticised for commandeering private property illegally. Concern for its own status and legitimacy in Lebanon renders the LAF unwilling or unable to conduct raids on civilian property.

The delicate balance of deterrence and cooperation required in peacekeeping is a unique one. But, ultimately, UNIFIL through its CIMIC and civil affairs activity in South Lebanon has established local credibility, but not local legitimacy. The local population hasn’t internalised the goals of the mission sufficiently to actively assist UNIFIL in searching for and destroying Hezbollah’s weapons. What’s been generated by CIMIC instead is a contingent and conditional relationship with the local population based on material self-interest.

That’s not a bad thing in and of itself, and this relationship enables UNIFIL to patrol in relative safety and prevent escalations on the Blue Line, which ultimately helps maintain peace and security in South Lebanon. But the limits of CIMIC are clearly revealed in this case, and raise the question of whether it’s ever really possible for a foreign force to obtain local legitimacy when there’s no national consensus over who the bad guys really are.

The unintended consequences of Fiji’s UN peacekeeping operations

Members of the Fijian colour guard and the guard unit of the United Nations Assistance Mission in Iraq (UNAMI) march. 4/Feb/2009. UN Photo/Rick Bajornas.

Great socio-economic promise was envisaged for newly-independent Fiji in the 1970s but due to a series of military coups in 1987, 2000 and 2006, this promise has remained unfulfilled. While many scholars explain the coups with reference to ethnic politics, I’d argue that the politicisation of the Fijian military is partly due to the fact that it has developed a self-image as a mediator of political tensions and executor of coups d’état. Unlike the Indonesian military, the Fijian military’s raison d’être wasn’t determined by internal security threats; in fact, it was historically apolitical. And the development of this self-image appears to be an unintended consequence of the Fijian military’s involvement in United Nations (UN) peacekeeping operations.

Much of this development has its roots in the Fijian military’s first deployment on a UN peacekeeping operation as part of the United Nations Interim Forces in Lebanon (UNIFIL) in 1978. Participation in UN peacekeeping operations had obvious benefits to the fledgling Fijian nation, including being seen as a good international citizen, the generation of foreign exchange and improved youth employment.

However, rather than staying in Lebanon for a year or so as originally intended, the soldiers served for more than two decades, withdrawing only in 2002. Moreover, the confidence the Fijian military gained from serving with larger nations’ militaries in UN peacekeeping missions has given it an inflated corporate self-image. Participation in UN peacekeeping missions also necessitated that the military increase in size beyond what would be required to defend Fiji. By making peacekeeping the centerpiece of foreign policy, Fijian governments have unwittingly enhanced the military’s capability to intervene in domestic politics. Read more