Australia’s strategic outlook is deteriorating and, for the first time since World War II, we face an increased prospect of threat from a major power.
This means that a major change in Australia’s approach to the management of strategic risk is needed.
Despite being the largest archipelagic nation in the world, Indonesia has weak seabed warfare capability. Improving it should be a priority for Jakarta.
As an archipelago of more than 17,000 islands, the country is uniquely reliant on seabed infrastructure and is therefore unusually vulnerable to disruption of its pipelines or cables. It has little ability to prevent or recover from damage to its seabed assets and lacks the hardware, skills and planning needed to cope with threats.
Moreover, many international undersea cables, some connecting continents, also pass through Indonesia’s waters, so the country’s capacity in seabed warfare has regional and global importance.
No disruptions to underwater infrastructure in and around Indonesia attributed to foul play have been reported so far. However, it is clear that risks are rising with the escalation of maritime disputes in the South China Sea and the rivalry between the United States and China. To imagine the risks, we need only consider the recent cutting of the Nord Stream pipelines and telecommunications cables under the Baltic Sea, evidently by Russia and perhaps with help from China.
In Indonesia, an underwater pipeline carries natural gas from Java to Singapore, while all of the populated islands rely on communications cables to connect them with each other and the world. Moreover, Indonesia operates an underwater power transmission line between Sumatera and the Bangka islands and plans to build an electricity grid that would connect all of the major islands.
The first and most urgent step for Indonesia in improving its seabed assets and preparing for any potential attacks is to acquire or upgrade vessels with more advanced underwater capabilities. Currently, Indonesia’s hardware supply is limited, comprising three submarines, whose sonars might be helpful, two mine countermeasures vessels acquired in the 1990s and a few oceanographic research vessels with such equipment as precision sonar array for seabed mapping and submarine drones.
Jakarta has put some priority in enhancing its subsurface capabilities in recent years. It has signed a contract to buy two Improved Scorpene-class submarines from France; is building two hydrographic survey vessels with advanced subsurface capabilities in collaboration with Germany; acquired a submarine rescue ship designed for deep-sea diving and salvage operations; and taken delivery of two patrol vessels of the Paolo Thaon Di Revel class, designed to be equipped with underwater capabilities, such as sonar. Additionally, it has recently commissioned two newly-built mine countermeasures vessels from Germany.
This collection of ships is still small compared with scale of underwater infrastructure for such a country. The needs of an archipelago justify spending more, especially when potential losses from disruption are considered.
Indonesia must also develop skills in protecting and repairing seabed infrastructure. Its sailors do train in hunting and destroying sea mines, including capabilities that have some value in relation to underwater civilian assets. But there is no record of Indonesia’s navy or any Indonesian maritime security agency conducting specific exercises in, for example, finding and fixing broken seabed cables.
The government should start specific training and expand the scope mine-countermeasures training accordingly. It could, for example, enlarge the regular Indonesia–Singapore bilateral mine-countermeasure (MCM) and clearance diving exercises. It should also take advantage of defence cooperation with countries such as Australia, Japan, France and the US to hold joint exercises on seabed warfare.
Lastly, Indonesia should create a seabed security strategy that will guide long-term improvements to its seabed warfare capabilities. For this, the government will need to perceive the importance of seabed infrastructure and identify the threats to it. It must also assess current capabilities so it can determine what kind of hardware, training and operational procedures are necessary to safeguard the seabed assets. Finally, the strategy should outline the measures needed to achieve these goals.
In developing such a strategy, Indonesia would need to learn from other countries. This can be done through personnel exchanges, visits and other forms of defence cooperation. Exercises can help in this regard, too.
Ultimately, it is essential for Indonesia to develop a comprehensive seabed security strategy that focuses on threat assessment, capability enhancement and operational procedures. By learning global best practices and fostering defence partnerships, Indonesia can better protect its vital seabed assets and contribute to both regional and international security.
Originally published on 22 October 2024.
Deployments of ships and aircraft to challenge China’s illegal claims in the South China Sea are increasing. European ships are appearing more often, while Asia-Pacific countries are increasingly conducting activities in areas that China regards as sensitive.
Several nations have claims in the South China Sea, but China’s claim is the most extensive and controversial. Beijing seeks to enforce sovereign rights and jurisdiction over all features within the nine-dash line, including the islands, rocks and atolls that make up the Paracel and Spratly Islands. China claims this territory despite a 2016 ruling that found that China’s claims had no basis in international law.
With international law doing little to curb China’s ambitions, more countries are using their militaries to challenge China’s claims. In 2024, more European navies operated in the South China Sea than previously in recent years, with Britain, France, Germany, Italy and the Netherlands all sending ships to the region. Meanwhile regional counties, such as Japan, Canada, New Zealand and Australia, stepped up their engagement, including via joint sailings with the Philippines in the South China Sea.
Different countries take different approaches to challenging China’s illegal claims in the South China Sea. Some militaries are operating within the nine-dash line. Others sail naval ships directly through the Spratly Islands. Some advertise their activities; others do not.
Only a few have conducted activities close to the Paracels, because doing so is unusually risky. A 2022 incident in which a Chinese pilot dumped chaff in front of an Australian P-8 Poseidon surveillance aircraft is an example of the risk.
The US is the only country to send aircraft or ships within 12 nautical miles of claimed features. By doing so, it would be entering territorial waters if China did in fact own the territory.
These military activities to challenge China’s claims have occurred since 2015:
|
Country |
Military activities in the SCS |
Challenges Spratly claims |
Challenges Paracel claims |
Challenges within 12nm |
Publicises challenges |
USA |
✓ |
✓ | ✓ | ✓ |
✓ |
Canada |
✓ |
✓ |
✓ |
||
Australia |
✓ |
✓* | ✓* |
|
|
NZ |
✓ |
✓* |
|
||
Japan |
✓ |
✓* |
|
||
UK |
✓ |
✓ | ✓ |
✓ |
|
France |
✓ |
✓ | ✓ |
✓ |
|
Germany |
✓ |
|
|||
Netherlands |
✓ |
|
|||
Italy |
✓ |
|
*Challenges are likely but cannot be confirmed
Apart from countries around the South China Sea, which must routinely operate on or over it, the US has by far the most public and active military presence. In 2023, the US military conducted 107 activities, including six specific operations to challenge China’s illegal claims under the US Freedom of Navigation program. US activities are always accompanied by strong public statements.
France and Canada are both active in the region, including within the Spratlys. Both advertise their military presence and actions. Canada now carries journalists on some South China Sea transits. It has operated close to the Paracel Islands, but, as demonstrated when a Chinese fighter fired flares near a Canadian helicopter in 2023, doing so comes with risks. In 2015, France boldly exercised its right to freedom of navigation by sailing a task force through the Paracels.
Australia has an active military presence in the South China Sea. There’s evidence that Australia operates close to China’s illegal claims. However, the tempo and nature of its military challenges are hard to determine, because Canberra does not advertise them. China’s military has been aggressive in seeking to deter Australia from operating near the two island groups by engaging in unsafe intercepts.
New Zealand has a semi-regular presence inside the nine-dash line, commensurate with the size of its armed forces. Meanwhile, Japan has a growing military presence in the region and is increasingly working with partners, such as the US, Australia and the Philippines. As with Australia, there are signs that Japan and New Zealand operate close to, or within, the Spratly group, but neither publicise specific actions, so the nature of them is hard to determine.
Britain sent a carrier strike group through the South China Sea in 2021 and intends to do so again next year. The British military operates close to the Spratly and Paracel Islands and uses public messaging to reinforce the importance of sailing in these areas.
Signalling growing European interest in the region, Germany, the Netherlands and Italy sent navy ships to the area in 2024. But none seems to have overtly challenged China’s claims within the Spratlys or Paracels.
The most notable regional absentee is South Korea. In 2018, a South Korean destroyer, Munmu the Great, took refuge from a typhoon in the Paracel Islands. But Seoul quickly clarified that the ship was not there to challenge China’s claims. Likewise, when the littoral states of South East Asia routinely operate there, they do not directly challenge China’s claims via freedom of navigation transits.
The growing presence of European navies in the South China Sea and stepped-up activity of Asia-Pacific countries there is welcome. It’s helping to push back on China’s growing aggression and reinforce longstanding rules and norms that underpin regional prosperity.
Chinese companies own or operate at least one port on every continent except Antarctica. These investments present more than immediate security concerns; they position China to fully exploit the economic potential of ports at the expense of other countries.
And with Chinese companies controlling development of a port, the government in Beijing can interfere in physical development of the facility, perhaps to ensure that navally useful infrastructure isn’t built.
The former and current Australian governments have been criticized for acquiescing in the Chinese company Landbridge owning a 99-year lease on Darwin Port, the commercial operation in Darwin Harbour. Criticism has focused on security concerns, such as the Chinese government possibly arranging to use the facility for military surveillance or for sabotaging it in times of tension.
But the ordinary civilian activity of a Chinese company controlling the development of ports can have negative consequences for the host nation and others. As is seen in many industries, one Chinese business will often prefer to work with another, with the result that China has maximum exposure to potential profits.
We saw a step towards this last month in relation to Darwin Port, the commercial operation in Darwin Harbour. As the ABC reported, Port of Darwin signed a memorandum with the Port of Shenzhen for ‘friendly cooperation’. The aim is to increase trade links between the ports, which would have to mean Chinese companies, such as shipping lines, deepening economic involvement in Darwin Port.
Situated in southern China, the Port of Shenzhen is one of the busiest and fastest-growing in the world.
Interestingly, this agreement was not announced in Australia, and after the ABC reported it there was no public discussion of new links to China by the commercial port in one of Australia’s most strategically important harbours.
The Council on Foreign Relations has been tracking China’s growing maritime influence through investments in strategic overseas ports and has reported that while China has limited overseas naval bases, it has emerged as a leading commercial power with considerable economic influence over international sea lanes and commercial ports. China’s shipping routes and service networks span major countries and regions worldwide, backed by 70 bilateral and regional shipping agreements with 66 nations.
In October 2023, the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet finalised a review into the circumstances of the Darwin Port lease, finding that a robust regulatory system would manage risks to critical infrastructure, that existing monitoring mechanisms were sufficient, and, as a result, that the government did not need to cancel or vary the lease.
But the review appears not to have addressed the problem that decisions about development of Darwin Port are now in non-Australian hands. In particular, Australia does not seem to have considered that the Chinese government now exerts influence over capital investment at Darwin Port.
Warships use civilian wharves and other port facilities as well as naval bases, especially during conflict, just as military aircraft can fly from civilian airfields. Some port facilities suit naval ships and their missions better than others.
The Chinese government can exert influence on a Chinese company operating abroad and even take coercive action against Australian companies, as experienced by the Lynas Corporation in Western Australia. If the Chinese armed forces take an interest in a foreign port’s capacity to support naval operations, they can certainly send a message to its Chinese owner about what improvements should not be made there, even profitable improvements.
The 2024 National Defence Strategy and associated spending plan, the Integrated Investment Program, did not expressly mention the Darwin Port, but the importance of logistics facilities in Darwin was implied by funding allocated for enhancing theatre logistics and improving fuel holdings, storage, and distribution in northern Australia.
As China continues to deepen its geoeconomic footprint, addressing the potential risks associated with foreign control over critical infrastructure becomes increasingly important. Transparent communication and proactive policy decisions are crucial to preventing national assets from becoming leverage points in broader regional power dynamics.
Originally published 6 March 2020.
When you stop and think about it, it seems a miracle that the global economy spins on as well as it does. As the spread of Covid-19 has shown, any decent disruption to the global supply chain causes ripples from tourism to iPhone supply that cost billions. Nevertheless, there’s a level of resilience in the global economy, and even though predictions are sounding dire, there isn’t quite panic in the streets yet.
So, if you really wanted to cause global havoc and cause your enemies to suffer, what would it cost? Billions? Trillions? Or maybe just the price of a second-hand car? Enter the sea mine.
More than 90% of global trade occurs by sea. This makes strategic maritime chokepoints, such as the Strait of Hormuz and Bab el Mandeb in the Middle East, some of the most strategically important patches of water on earth. Close one or two of those down for any length of time, and we’ve got a serious problem on our hands. This fact is not lost on most major players—hence the military patrols, diplomatic negotiations and international conventions in place to try to mitigate risks to these vulnerable spots.
You’d think it would take something pretty expensive and sophisticated to circumvent these controls, but no. A sea mine is cheap, easy to use, and highly effective at blockading chokepoints. The simplest types of sea mines—variations on the classic spiky ball bobbing in the water—cost only a few thousand dollars but can stop shipping in its tracks.
Iran famously mined the Gulf during the Iran–Iraq War in the 1980s for that very reason, and appeared to be repeating similar tactics last year in both mine and torpedo attacks on tankers traversing the Strait of Hormuz as the sabre-rattling with the US heated up. The Houthis in Yemen are doing their own mining in the Red Sea, ostensibly to protect their ports from Saudi attack. However, in recent weeks, an Egyptian fishing boat in the Red Sea reportedly struck a Houthi mine, killing three of its six crew, and there are reports of Houthi-laid mines drifting off from their original sites and heading who knows where.
The effectiveness of sea mines as a strategic tool lies not just in their immediate threat to an individual ship, but in the time and cost that must go into clearing waters suspected of harbouring mines. Such operations, even in a relatively limited area, can take weeks, months or even years. Australian operations to support mine clearance in Kuwait after the first Gulf War in 1991, for example, stretched for almost five months, searched two square kilometres and dealt with 60 mines. For comparison, the Bab el Mandeb chokepoint is 29 kilometres across at its narrowest point and stretches down some 500 kilometres of Yemeni coastline. And the Houthis may have access to hundreds or even thousands of mines.
The Strait of Hormuz is a slightly roomier 39 kilometres across, but with exponentially higher volumes of oil and gas trade squeezing through its narrow waters. If the sea lines of communication of the Middle East were shut for any length of time, the results for the global supply chain could be catastrophic. To put it in perspective, the Kuwaiti mine-clearance operation of a couple of square kilometres took months; Australia’s current strategic oil reserves, which are heavily dependent on Middle Eastern supply via Singapore, would last around 28 days. Even if Australia reached internationally mandated minimum fuel reserves of 90 days, that’s still well short of the time the Kuwait operation took.
There isn’t even a lot of legal limitation on employing sea mines. Unlike with land mines, there are no treaties in place to ban the use of sea mines, or even a clear definition what counts as one. Given the ubiquity and longevity of mines, there’s plausible deniability in laying a few Soviet-era sea mines here and there.
But how likely is it really that someone will employ sea mines to stop the world? If you’re a state reliant on the global supply chain for your own existence, the answer is: not very. Moored or floating mines in the Strait of Hormuz would do as much (or more) damage to Iran’s economy and geopolitical standing as they would to anyone else’s, and Iran’s leadership is well aware of that. Most non-state actors that have access to such mines are hesitant to use them offensively for similar reasons.
But what about someone with nothing to lose, poor impulse control or a dangerous combination of both? An officer of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps or a Houthi leader with a halfway-decent sense of strategy and self-preservation would probably baulk at more aggressive use of sea mines in high-profile locations. But IRGC Quds Force leader and key regional networker Qassem Soleimani is dead, US President Donald Trump is surrounded by advisers intent on backing Iran into a corner, and Iran’s Houthi partners are on the offensive and have a history of using cheap weaponry to great effect.
This isn’t the time to be watching the strategist who stockpiles a thousand mines; this is the time to be watching the zealot who wants only one.
When you stop and think about it for any length of time, it seems a miracle that the global economy spins on as well as it does. As the spread of the coronavirus Covid-19 has shown, any decent disruption to the global supply chain causes ripples from tourism to iPhone supply that cost billions. Nevertheless, there’s a level of resilience in the global economy, and even though predictions are sounding dire, there isn’t quite panic in the streets yet. So, if you really wanted to cause global havoc and cause your enemies to suffer, what would it cost? Billions? Trillions? Or maybe just the price of a second-hand car? Enter the sea mine.
More than 90% of global trade occurs by sea. This makes strategic maritime chokepoints, such as the Strait of Hormuz and Bab el Mandeb in the Middle East, some of the most strategically important patches of water on earth. Close one or two of those down for any length of time, and we’ve got a serious problem on our hands. This fact is not lost on most major players—hence the military patrols, diplomatic negotiations and international conventions in place to try to mitigate risks to these vulnerable spots.
You’d think it would take something pretty expensive and sophisticated to circumvent these controls, but no. A sea mine is cheap, easy to use, and highly effective at blockading chokepoints. The simplest types of sea mines—variations on the classic spiky ball bobbing in the water—cost only a few thousand dollars but can stop shipping in its tracks.
Iran famously mined the Gulf during the Iran–Iraq War in the 1980s for that very reason, and appeared to be repeating similar tactics last year in both mine and torpedo attacks on tankers traversing the Strait of Hormuz as the sabre-rattling with the US heated up. The Houthis in Yemen are doing their own mining in the Red Sea, ostensibly to protect their ports from Saudi attack. However, in recent weeks, an Egyptian fishing boat in the Red Sea reportedly struck a Houthi mine, killing three of its six crew, and there are reports of Houthi-laid mines drifting off from their original sites and heading who knows where.
The effectiveness of sea mines as a strategic tool lies not just in their immediate threat to an individual ship, but in the time and cost that must go into clearing waters suspected of harbouring mines. Such operations, even in a relatively limited area, can take weeks, months or even years. Australian operations to support mine clearance in Kuwait after the first Gulf War in 1991, for example, stretched for almost five months, searched two square kilometres and dealt with 60 mines. For comparison, the Bab el Mandeb chokepoint is 29 kilometres across at its narrowest point and stretches down some 500 kilometres of Yemeni coastline. And the Houthis may have access to hundreds or even thousands of mines.
The Strait of Hormuz is a slightly roomier 39 kilometres across, but with exponentially higher volumes of oil and gas trade squeezing through its narrow waters. If the sea lines of communication of the Middle East were shut for any length of time, the results for the global supply chain could be catastrophic. To put it in perspective, the Kuwaiti mine-clearance operation of a couple of square kilometres took months; Australia’s current strategic oil reserves, which are heavily dependent on Middle Eastern supply via Singapore, would last around 28 days. Even if Australia reached internationally mandated minimum fuel reserves of 90 days, that’s still well short of the time the Kuwait operation took.
There isn’t even a lot of legal limitation on employing sea mines. Unlike with land mines, there are no treaties in place to ban the use of sea mines, or even a clear definition what counts as one. Given the ubiquity and longevity of mines, there’s plausible deniability in laying a few Soviet-era sea mines here and there.
But how likely is it really that someone will employ sea mines to stop the world? If you’re a state reliant on the global supply chain for your own existence, the answer is: not very. Moored or floating mines in the Strait of Hormuz would do as much (or more) damage to Iran’s economy and geopolitical standing as they would to anyone else’s, and Iran’s leadership is well aware of that. Most non-state actors that have access to such mines are hesitant to use them offensively for similar reasons.
But what about someone with nothing to lose, poor impulse control or a dangerous combination of both? An officer of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps or a Houthi leader with a halfway-decent sense of strategy and self-preservation would probably baulk at more aggressive use of sea mines in high-profile locations. But IRGC Quds Force leader and key regional networker Qassem Soleimani is dead, US President Donald Trump is surrounded by advisers intent on backing Iran into a corner, and Iran’s Houthi partners are on the offensive and have a history of using cheap weaponry to great effect.
This isn’t the time to be watching the strategist who stockpiles a thousand mines; this is the time to be watching the zealot who only wants one.
I liked Phil Radford’s piece on cyber security and the cloud this morning. In particular, I liked the parallel between cyber security and anti-submarine warfare (ASW), having spent a fair chunk of time in Russell Offices doing operations analysis calculations and modelling on the topic.
Phil’s point is that, given a limited amount of defensive resources, there’s a higher degree of safety to be had if targets congregate together behind the defences available than if they take their chances individually. That’s certainly true in ASW, and the effort of researchers to quantify the advantages of convoys is one of the great success stories of operations analysis.
It’s easy enough to describe the potential pros and cons of a convoy system in qualitative terms. Working in favour of grouping ships together to escort them through submarine infested waters is some straightforward geometry: the area of a circle grows like the square of the radius, while the perimeter is simply proportional to the radius. To see why that matters, have a look at the photograph below. Given the same spacing of ships, by doubling the radius of the group, you can get four times as many ships within the defensive perimeter. But the perimeter itself has only doubled—meaning that a defensive escort of warships need only be twice as large to remain equally effective. That’s the good news. Read more
The physical dimensions of cyber security are as important as the virtual ones, but are often overlooked. Australia is actively working towards building its cyber resilience; the ability to anticipate, withstand, and recover from cyberattacks. But there is a significant hole in the protection of our physical cyber infrastructure.
Scattered across the ocean floor in intricate webs, submarine cables transfer high data volumes between onshore nodes. Five main international cables connect Australia to cyberspace and global voice networks. They carry 99% of Australia’s total internet traffic, dwarfing the capacity of satellites. Submarine cables are vital to our communications, economic prosperity, and national security. They also tend to break. A lot. Read more