Politicking by the Chinese Communist Party has blocked Taiwanese membership of Interpol since 1984, preventing the timely sharing of criminal information and intelligence. The absence of Taiwan in the world’s largest international police organisation weakens global security, to the advantage of organised crime.

Placating the CCP is an insufficient reason for excluding Taiwan from Interpol. To improve global security, Taiwan should finally be granted observer status at Interpol’s 92nd General Assembly in Glasgow in November 2024. It must be given at least a limited capacity to cooperate with Interpol and better combat transnational crime.

Taiwan is a crucial law enforcement stakeholder in the Asia-Pacific region with critical intelligence and operational capabilities. Its police forces, overseen by the National Police Agency (NPA), are known for their professionalism and advanced expertise. Abroad, the NPA actively engages in international efforts against terrorism, cybercrime, human trafficking and drug smuggling. Little wonder that Taiwan has some of the lowest rates of crime in the world.

Despite this success, Taiwanese nationals are still victims of crime at home and abroad, and some are involved in transnational organised crime. The NPA’s absence from Interpol restricts the region’s capacity to effectively combat such activities.

For example, in 2022, Taiwanese police uncovered a new type of human trafficking in Cambodia and Myanmar. Sophisticated organised crime syndicates were promising overseas employment to vulnerable people from around the world, including almost 5000 from Taiwan. Victims were held captive in Cambodia and Myanmar, forced to work in scam call centres under horrendous conditions and subjected to physical and psychological abuse.

In this incident, Taiwanese police submitted reports to Interpol but could not directly work with its member states, despite Taiwan’s crucial role in uncovering the scheme and its duty to protect its citizens.

As Taiwan is neither a member state nor an observer, it cannot access or contribute to Interpol’s 19 criminal intelligence databases. Nor can it access or assist with Interpol’s systems for requesting international cooperation. The complex arrangements for requesting assistance worldwide to locate and provisionally arrest a person pending extradition, surrender or similar legal action are central to Interpol’s operations and invaluable for combatting transnational organised crime.

Taiwan was a member of Interpol from 1961 to 1984, until the organisation recognised Beijing as the legitimate government of China. The CCP argues that Taiwan, under the One China principle, cannot join international organisations that require statehood for membership, including Interpol.

Interpol’s position on Taiwan was clarified accordingly by its secretary general, Jurgen Stock, in 2023, who argued against granting the island observer status: ‘In 1984, the Interpol General Assembly recognised the PRC as the sole representation of China. As such, Interpol recognises Taiwan as part of China, and as China is a member of Interpol, Interpol cannot grant Taiwan observer status in the General Assembly.’

Stock, the CCP and the member states in Interpol who oppose Taiwan’s participation have seemingly forgotten that the organisation is about police cooperation. Its focus is on sharing information and intelligence and connecting police forces—not countries.

Taiwan’s appointment as an observer would not undermine the One China principle nor threaten Beijing. Instead, Taiwan’s inclusion would formalise and strengthen cooperation, enabling more efficient and coordinated responses to global security threats.

By denying Taiwan’s participation in Interpol, the international community risks sending a message that political considerations outweigh principles of justice and human rights. This is a dangerous precedent in the fight against impunity. Article 3 of Interpol’s constitution even prevents the organisation from undertaking political operations, although it does not prevent political omissions and exclusions. The case for approving Taiwan’s observation status is grounded in fairness, effectiveness and global security. The case against is purely partisan.

The CCP’s influence within Interpol is instrumental in preventing Taiwan from gaining membership or observer status. Chinese authorities consistently block Taiwan’s attempts to participate in Interpol’s meetings, share information or contribute to international law enforcement efforts. This exclusion isolates Taiwanese police and limits Interpol’s ability to combat cross-border crime effectively.

With little prospect of full Interpol membership, Taiwan has instead persistently pursued observer status. In recent years, it has gained support from numerous member states, including the United States, who recognise its contributions to global security.

Taiwan meets the criteria for observer status based on its law enforcement capabilities and willingness to cooperate internationally. Interpol observers include international organisations as well as non-member countries and are afforded limited participation rights. They can access Interpol’s databases and attend meetings like its general assembly.

Crucially, Taiwan’s exclusion raises human rights and humanitarian issues. Victims of transnational crimes, including human trafficking and terrorism, suffer regardless of geopolitical boundaries. Taiwan’s inclusion would give better protection to victims and enhance international efforts to prevent and prosecute crimes against humanity. Its exclusion allows transnational crime networks to operate across borders and exploit gaps in international cooperation.

Taiwan’s exclusion from Interpol is a glaring omission. By granting it observer status, the international community would be upholding principles of fairness and justice, and meaningfully enhancing global security cooperation. Setting aside political considerations and de-politicising the fight against transnational crime is essential for advancing shared goals of security, justice and human rights on a global scale.

In 1975, Japan’s Kazuo Yamada invented a brilliantly simple yet addictive arcade game that would eventually be affectionately known as ‘Whac-A-Mole’. The premise for the game is simple. A player waits for plastic moles to intermittently raise their heads out of one of six holes. If a mole appears above its hole, the player tires to hit it on the head with a big rubber mallet to score points. The more moles you ‘whack’, the higher your score.

Lately I’ve been struck by the parallels that can be drawn between this game and the daily grind of Australia’s efforts to combat transnational serious and organised crime both at home and across Southeast Asia.

In the Mekong subregion’s ‘Whac-A-Mole’ game with organised crime groups, law enforcement agencies are the players. They use their operational police as the mallet to whack—or more correctly in this case, arrest—the criminals when they appear. To be fair, though, with the support of good intelligence and good policy, law enforcement is far more proactive than the traditional ‘Whac-A-Mole’ player.

Low-level criminals make up the majority of the moles in the game. Sometimes the criminal moles emerge from their holes by mistake, or they stay in the open for a little too long. Other times they are forced out of their holes by other moles or by the mechanical parts of the game.

The game itself is the criminal economy, operated behind the scenes by a small number of savvy, experienced moles. These moles don’t play the game, but simply make it work. In the original ‘Whac-A-Mole’, it often escaped the attention of the player that despite racking up high scores they never won; the moles just kept coming. Playing the game was so intoxicating that few seemed to notice the futility.

It seems to me that Australia’s and ASEAN member states’ current law enforcement strategies for fighting organised crime in the region are bogged down like the original ‘Whac-A-Mole’ players. Arrests and seizures of drugs and cash are increasing, but the game continues unabated.

In August 2017, the Australian Criminal Intelligence Commission released the sixth edition of its biennial report on organised crime in Australia. It estimated that the annual cost of organised crime to Australia had more than doubled in the two years since the last report, from around $15 billion to around $36 billion. These figures gave the clearest indication to date that the Commonwealth’s law enforcement agencies were losing ground in the fight against organised crime.

In September 2018, the ACIC released its Illicit drug data report, an annual analysis of drug seizures and arrests. The report’s findings, coupled with data from the commission’s national wastewater drug monitoring program, provided an unprecedented level of detail on Australia’s illicit drug demand and supply patterns, and ample evidence that ‘Whack-A-Criminal’ isn’t working.

In July 2019, the UN Office of Drugs and Crime released its latest assessment of regional transnational organised crime. The report paints a bleak picture in which policy success against organised crime in Southeast Asia has been fleeting at best. Worse still, the region is awash with illicit drugs while organised crime kingpins are probably enjoying record profits from increased production levels.

Over the past decade, Australian law enforcement has increasingly used the term ‘disruption’ in its key policy and strategy documents on combating organized crime. This is in recognition of the limited impacts of the traditional arrest-and-seize response.

Disruption involves introducing measures designed to inhibit criminal freedom of movement, business models and profit-making opportunities. Unfortunately, for many in law enforcement, disruption has become a synonym for arrest and seizure.

If law enforcement is to break free of the ‘Whack-A-Criminal’ cycle, it will need to do much more to define, develop and employ disruption methodologies. A much more strategic approach to law enforcement focused on disruption effects is what’s needed.

Policymakers now need to develop a lexicon for disruption effects. Such a lexicon needs to assist in achieving a range of goals, including:

• reducing the timing and tempo of opportunities to commit serious and organised crime
• increasing the exposure of key figures and organisations to law enforcement action
• increasing criminals’ perceptions of risk, including the likelihood and consequences of being caught
• increasing the costs associated with undertaking serious and organised criminal activities
• decreasing the profit margins for the illicit economy
• decreasing the vulnerability of the licit economy to organised crime
• reducing the national, bilateral and regional jurisdictional silos that can be exploited by criminals.

Australia is in a strong position to lead the development of innovative approaches to disruption. The ACIC, and its disruption unit, provide the much-needed strategic picture of criminality in Australia and the region.

The establishment of the Home Affairs portfolio has seen the development of a critical mass of policy professionals who have the capacity to develop a national disruption policy. The more recent establishment of the Office of the Commonwealth Transnational Serious and Organised Crime Coordinator provides a mechanism to lead and strengthen national disruption efforts.

While Australian law enforcement can’t, and shouldn’t, stop targeting criminals, it’s time to introduce new disruption techniques that break open the current ‘Whac-A-Mole’ game.

Stopping radicalisation and disrupting plots are appropriately the focus of the majority of Australia’s counterterrorism efforts.

But there are other avenues to undermine the terrorist business model that are lower profile but have the potential for sound practical outcomes.

To highlight that other element of the terrorism challenge, let’s turn to the high-profile case of Melbourne teenager Jake Bilardi.

Much of Australian media’s attention has been focussed on ‘why’ Bilardi was radicalised, and how to prevent it from happening to others. The complexity of his case—mental health issues, his reclusive nature—lend an air of futility to the community’s ability to detect and counter this type of radicalisation and recruitment.

Less attention has been focussed, however, on the mechanisms that fund and facilitate the physical travel of would-be terrorist recruits, such as Bilardi, to the conflict zone. And that’s where relevant government agencies including AUSTRAC can make a real difference.

How does a 17 year old school student and recluse from Melbourne end up reportedly blowing himself up in Iraq? And is there a point in this transition where his actions could be stopped?

A 4,300-word blog attributed to Bilardi, published in January 2015, provides a detailed account of his philosophical and ideological journey to support violent Islamic extremism.

The first 4,000 words tracks the journey of trying to make sense of the politics of conflict and 20th century world history. At the 4,000-word point, Bilardi jumps from musings on the meaning of life, democracy and discovering the Koran to state,

‘so I…sat waiting until everything was prepared and I could exit the country undetected…Without revealing any sensitive information about how I entered the Islamic State…’

‘Everything was prepared’—by whom? And how?

Could Bilardi’s journey have been stopped?

Similar questions can be asked of 18-year old ‘Ginger Jihadi’ Abdullah Elmir, his reported ‘widow’, British schoolgirl Amira Abase, as well as her two schoolfriends. So too of unemployed welfare recipients, Khaled Sharrouf and his wife, Tara Nettleton, now deceased, and their children.

It takes money to travel to the Middle East: to purchase plane tickets, use false documents and use the services of smugglers.

None of the Australians seemed to have the means needed to undertake their journeys without help.

That’s a weakness in the terrorist modus operandi, and stopping the money is another way we can undermine their strategy.

Three recent announcements highlight an important refocussing of the international community’s efforts to defeat terrorism.

On 9 February, in the first ever report to the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) on the progress of counterterrorism efforts, Under Secretary General, Jeffrey Feltman, stressed the imperative of cutting off Islamic State’s (IS) funding.

Feltman painted a picture of IS as an organised criminal group and urged the international community to focus on practical measures to starve IS of the money required to maintain its activities, and consciously link these activities to the broader counterterrorism mission. That follows an historic meeting of UNSC Finance Ministers on 17 December 2015 to consider terrorism funding.

The second announcement, on 2 February, saw the European Commission launch an action plan on counterterrorism financing, building on a commitment by European Finance Ministers in December. The EU plan aims to enhance real-time information and information sharing, focus on transactions involving high-risk third world countries, and track otherwise ‘anonymous’ pre-paid credit cards and virtual currency such as Bitcoin.

The third important initiative is closer to home. On 16–18 November 2015, merely days after the Paris attacks, Australia and Indonesia co-hosted the first ever Asia–Pacific Counter Terrorism Financing Summit.

Attendees from 20 countries, representing governments, the finance sector and academia committed in the Sydney Communiqué, to a range of initiatives to increase sharing of financial intelligence information in the region. Those including a regional financial terrorism risk assessment and intelligence report, and a taskforce to progress initiatives including education. And the goal of reporting real progress by August this year.

That ambitious program of work could be doomed to limited success or even failure. But there are some important indicators that bode well for this project.

First, Indonesia’s Financial Intelligence Unit, PPATK, was an initiator of the Summit and, with Australia’s AUSTRAC, has the joint lead. An indicator of the importance of this initiative to Indonesia is the involvement of Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal and Security Affairs, Luhut Pandjaitan, a highly influential senior cabinet minister. And both PPAT-K and AUSTRAC have activist leaders with track records of achievement in Paul Jevtovic and Muhumud Yusuf.

Second, the financial sector and academics have been brought in as partners from the beginning. Like other terrorist groups, IS uses the international monetary system to move its money around. The banking and remittance sector are vital to identifying those transactions and assisting governments to use the information to trace terrorists and their supporters, and choke their funding. But so often they’ve been left out of the discussion on counter terrorism, which has focussed primarily on government action.

The propaganda of Islamist extremist groups would have it that divine inspiration and belief alone power the groups. But the reality is that, up close, the groups look more like the standard criminal gangs with whom they do business. They cannot succeed without funding, and future Jake Bilardis’ cannot easily engage with them or physically join them without that funding.

That’s a profile familiar from other, once successful, terrorist criminal enterprises, including the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam and the Provisional Irish Republican Army. As the demise of those groups was aided by cutting off the source of their funding, so too can today’s terrorist groups be undermined.

Attacking terrorist finances can make a real difference. But that requires real and long-term commitment, from governments, banking and remittance services, academia and the community. It won’t be easy or quick, and may not make headlines. But it will happen.

David Connery’s recent post prompts us to understand serious and organised crime as a national security issue. This is often difficult to comprehend because organised crime is like an iceberg: the majority of it is hidden from view.

On the one hand, there are very visible manifestations of organised criminality such as street violence, a shooting in a public place, outlaw motorcycle gangs, illicit drugs distributed at a nightclub or even the peddling of fake handbags at a market.

However, Australians are increasingly getting glimpses of the hidden part of the iceberg as technology and globalisation enable cyber criminals to launch attacks into our homes and offices to commit a range of crimes. These include sophisticated frauds, identity theft, malicious software attacks, intellectual property crime, tax avoidance and price manipulation. Read more