Australia’s disaster response should build resilience

When ASPI’s Cyclone Tracy: 50 Years On was published last year, it wasn’t just a historical reflection; it was a warning. Just months later, we are already watching history repeat itself.

We need to bake resilience into infrastructure, supply chains and communities, ensuring they are prepared for the next disaster, not just rebuilt to fail again.

This requires: a long-term effort to disaster-proof communities; cross-industry collaboration to strengthen supply chains; and a national resilience strategy.

In 1974, Cyclone Tracy forced Australia to rethink disaster preparedness. But in the five decades since, we’ve seen flood after cyclone after fire.

The February 2025 floods across northern Queensland—from Cairns to Townsville—once again exposed the region’s vulnerabilities.

Communities in Ingham and Cardwell faced widespread devastation. For two weeks, road networks were severed, triggering food shortages and economic disruption. In Cairns, homes that had only just been repaired after Cyclone Jasper were inundated again, highlighting the compounding effect of disasters. Townsville, while spared the catastrophic flooding seen in 2019, remains at risk and may not be as fortunate next time.

In response, the federal government has committed $84 million to strengthen disaster resilience in northern Queensland—a necessary but vastly insufficient sum.

The cost of inaction is rising rapidly, not only in infrastructure damage but in the long-term economic and social stability of the region.

The weaknesses seen during the February floods were not new. Essential supply chains were crippled as roads disappeared under floodwaters. The housing crisis worsened as displaced families were left scrambling for shelter in an already overstretched market. Small businesses, the backbone of regional economies, were once again left picking up the pieces.

And yet, the response remains the same: mop up, rebuild, repeat.

Communities need immediate disaster relief. But real resilience isn’t about recovery—it’s about making sure the same destruction doesn’t happen again.

That means disaster-proofing communities by:

—Retrofitting homes in high-risk areas with stronger materials and flood-resistant designs;

—Updating building codes for future-proofed development;

—Reinstating and expanding the Resilient Homes Fund to cover cyclone- and flood-prone regions;

—Reviewing the insurance system so unaffordable premiums don’t leave people uninsured; and

—Investing in community-led preparedness, building resilience with local knowledge and digital tools.

While much of the focus remains on housing and road repairs, supply chain resilience continues to be overlooked. When floods cut off road transport, food shortages quickly followed. The conversation remained reactive, surfacing only after supply lines had already collapsed. There was no plan to use alternative routes.

Collaboration across industries can strengthen supply chains and critical infrastructure. It should include review processes after disasters.

Australia’s national logistics framework must embed resilience into infrastructure planning. Maritime transport, for example, could have played a much stronger role in maintaining essential goods distribution. But without a contingency plan, there was no mechanism to pivot away from road transport.

Australia needs a national resilience strategy to consider ways to bolster northern infrastructure, supply chains and communities.

The strategy should consider alternative freight corridors to reduce reliance on flood-prone roads. This could include pre-established plans for emergency supply distribution via maritime transport and would require strengthening port infrastructure.

Beyond supply chains, emergency infrastructure must also be adaptable. For example, the temporary single-lane bridge built by the Australian Army over Ollera Creek restored access between Townsville and Ingham, but was unsuitable for heavy vehicles.

A national resilience strategy should also consider strategically positioning maritime assets. Historically, HMAS Cairns has supported various naval vessels, including landing craft. Given the region’s vulnerability to cyclones and flooding, relocating both light and heavy landing craft to Cairns would enable faster disaster response across the region. HMAS Cairns is already well-equipped to support and service these vessels.

This isn’t just a northern Queensland problem; it’s a national crisis. The Colvin Review found that 87 percent of Commonwealth disaster funding is spent on recovery, while the economic cost of disasters is projected to reach $40.3 billion annually by FY2050. The Insurance Council of Australia advised that redirecting funds from the 9 percent stamp duty on insurance premiums to resilience measures could save $6.3 billion by 2050. Yet, funding remains locked in a reactive cycle—fixing damage rather than preventing it.

As we head into a federal election, there’s a risk that disaster resilience becomes just another political football—but it shouldn’t be. The escalating costs of disasters affect all Australians, regardless of who is in power.

Fifty years ago, Cyclone Tracy forced Australia to rethink how it built cities, leading to sweeping reforms in building codes and urban planning. Queensland Premier David Crisafulli has repeatedly stated a commitment to ‘building back better’. It’s time to turn those words into action.

South Korea has acted decisively on DeepSeek. Other countries must stop hesitating

South Korea has suspended new downloads of DeepSeek, and it was were right to do so.

Chinese tech firms operate under the shadow of state influence, misusing data for surveillance and geopolitical advantage. Any country that values its data and sovereignty must watch this national security threat and take note of South Korea’s response.

Every AI tool captures vast amounts of data, but DeepSeek collects data unnecessary to its function as a simple chatbot. The company was caught over-collecting personal data and failed to be transparent about where that data was going. This typifies China’s lack of transparency about data collection, usage and storage.

South Korea’s National Intelligence Service flagged the chatbot for logging keystrokes and chat interactions, which were all stored on Chinese-controlled servers.

Once data enters China’s jurisdiction, it’s fair game for Beijing’s intelligence agencies. That’s not paranoia; it’s the law. Chinese companies must hand over data to the government upon request. South Korea saw the writing on the wall and acted before it was too late.

Data in the wrong hands can be weaponised. By cross-referencing DeepSeek’s collected data with other stolen datasets, Chinese intelligence agencies could build profiles on foreign officials, business leaders, journalists and dissidents. Keystroke tracking could help to identify individuals even when they use anonymous communication platforms. AI-powered analysis could pinpoint behavioral patterns, making it easier to manipulate public opinion or even blackmail individuals with compromising data.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not mistaken. Huawei was banned from operating 5G networks in multiple countries based on similar concerns. TikTok has come under scrutiny for its ties to the Chinese government. China has spent years perfecting cyber-espionage and DeepSeek appears to be the latest tool in its arsenal, joining the growing list of Chinese tech products raising red flags.

Chinese actors have displayed a pattern of digital intrusion. Recent events include the Volt Typhoon and Salt Typhoon operations, which targeted US digital infrastructure and telecom networks. These attacks compromised the data of more than one million people, including government officials. Looking to Europe, Germany fell victim to Chinese-backed hackers breaching its federal cartography agency.

China is using AI tools for influence, data gathering and geopolitical maneuvering. AI is a versatile tool through which the flow of information is controlled.

The risk goes far beyond espionage. It extends to economic coercion and intellectual property theft. For example, multinational companies relying on AI-powered tools may unknowingly send sensitive business strategies to foreign adversaries. Government agencies may unknowingly feed points of information that would be classified in aggregate into an AI system that Beijing can tap into. The consequences would be far-reaching and deeply troubling.

What if South Korea had looked the other way? Millions of South Korean citizens would have been at risk of Chinese coercion and exposed to data harvesting under the guise of harmless AI. In an era where data shapes power, handing control to foreign entities is dangerous.

Some countries are beginning to grasp these threats. India and Australia are ramping up scrutiny of foreign AI applications, and Australia and Taiwan have banned DeepSeek on government devices. The European Union is tightening regulations to demand transparency and accountability for data usage.

The United States, on the other hand, is still deliberating. President Donald Trump has focused on AI as a push for Silicon Valley to lift its game, rather than considering the technology’s national security implications. US lawmakers are beginning to propose restrictions on AI tools linked to foreign adversaries. For Texan officials and US navy personnel, for example, DeepSeek has been banned due to its links to the Chinese government.

However, regulatory action has been slow to gain traction, caught in a web of political disagreements and lobbying pressures. Meanwhile, security agencies warn that inaction could leave critical infrastructure and government institutions vulnerable to AI-driven espionage. Without decisive policies, the US risks becoming not only a prime target for data manipulation and intelligence gathering, but a soft target. It must act to prevent another major data breach, before it finds itself reacting to one. Waiting is not an option.

China’s AI ambitions aren’t slowing down, and global vigilance must not flag. The battle for digital sovereignty is already underway, and governments that hesitate will find themselves at a disadvantage from both economic and security standpoints.

Act now or pay later. AI is the new frontier of global competition, and data is the ultimate weapon. Those who don’t secure it will face the consequences. South Korea made the right move—who’s next?

Bookshelf: technology, globalisation and civilisational decline

Robert Kaplan’s book Waste Land: A World in Permanent Crisis paints a portrait of civilisation in flux. Drawing insights from history, literature and art, he examines the effect of modern technology, globalisation and urbanisation on the decline of great powers and increasing domestic polarisation.

The title of Waste Land is inspired by T S Eliot’s famous poem of 1922, ‘The Waste Land’. According to Kaplan, this captures very well the situation of the world today—the end of the old world and a new world not quite coming into being, and a sense of alienation, disjointedness and fragmentation. Kaplan’s book reads like an essay, despite its length of 224 pages, and is triggered by his feeling that we are always in a crisis of some sort.

The first of the book’s three sections argues that Germany’s Weimar Republic, from 1919 until the ascension of Hitler in 1933, is a metaphor for the world today. Weimar was an attempt at forming a stable democracy that would prevent the rise of an autocrat. But it was a sprawling and badly managed system that was always in crisis.

Today, we are all part of the same world, writes Kaplan, as technology has shrunk geography. But we lack effective global governance. Consequently, the world is more claustrophobic and anxious as crises in one part of the world can ricochet to other parts of the world. It is like living in one big Weimar. (Kaplan insists that Weimar is not necessarily a doom and gloom metaphor. Weimar did not have to end with Hitler; human agency played a key role.)

Kaplan discusses the decline of the United States, but argues China and Russia are declining faster than the US, meaning that the US’s relative position is improving.

China and Russia have changed fundamentally from the conservative leaders of Deng Xiaoping’s China and the Soviet Union of the Cold War, when both enjoyed functioning relationships with the US. Today, China is a closed Leninist authoritarian state, with many of its problems masked, not out in the open as is the case in the US. Putin is without the restraint and guardrails that post-Stalin Soviet leaders had.

Kaplan argues that the US was a great power in the ‘print and typewriter age’ which rewarded moderate, complex thinking. Long articles in the media were fact-checked and professionally edited. In the present digital and video era, moderation and complexity of thought have given way to emotion and extremism. One need only look to Donald Trump (whom Kaplan describes as ‘post-literate’), living as he does in a world of social media, with loose-limbed rhetoric that could spark a major crisis.

Consequently, the US is losing its political centre, as Democrats have moved to the left and Republicans to the populist right. The US is now also polarised between the global elite who have benefited from globalisation and the other half who are stuck in the nation state and resent the elite.

Kaplan argues that Washington is in a decadent condition, controlled by money that has taken over the presidency, and where neither political party is serious about the nation’s government debt. The US does have the capacity for dramatic renewal, as history shows. But for the moment the decline of all great powers means a less stable world.

The final section explores the effect of urbanisation and crowds. Previously, the regimes of Hitler, Stalin or Mao practiced tyranny from above. However, today an internet-driven crowd formation can create tyranny from below, where the court of social media is in charge. There is nothing more tyrannical than an emotional crowd and the associated loss of individualism, something which is now more pronounced since humankind is becoming an urban species living in crowded cities.

Kaplan concludes in the following words: ‘There was much hope in Weimar, but insufficient order. Avoiding Weimar’s fate now constitutes the ultimate labour for the world.’ But Kaplan opened his book with the following warning in the words of British philosopher Robert Scruton ‘… hope, detached from faith and untempered by the evidence of history, is a dangerous asset, and one that threatens not only those that embrace it, but all those within range of their illusions’. In sum, to avoid tragedy, it is important to think tragically, as Kaplan says.

Waste Land is rich and dense with speculative analyses. But it may just be a good tonic for readers seeking to grapple with the geopolitical uncertainty of the world today.

For a waterbombing reserve, adapt ADF aircraft

Australia should buy equipment to cheaply and temporarily convert military transport aircraft into waterbombers.

On current planning, the Australian Defence Force will have a total of 34 Chinook helicopters and Hercules airlifters. They should be able to serve as waterbombers when needed. Black Hawk army helicopters can also be used.

In contrast to permanent waterbombers, these aircraft would return to normal operations afterwards rather than sitting idle and waiting for the next big fire. And they wouldn’t be called out unless civilian waterbombing was inadequate or unavailable.

In January, fires ripped iconic parts of Los Angeles, even in the middle of winter. January is also when Australia’s fire season is most intense. Usually, we would rely on seven large waterbombers to put out life-threatening blazes. However, some of those waterbombers were 12,000km away waterbombing the California hills.

In the past decade, the New South Wales government has bought a waterbomber, a converted Boeing 737, for $26.3 million and the Queensland government has agreed to pay $18.1 million for waterbombers of comparable size to be stationed in the state for five years.

Although vital when fighting a fire, outside of fire season these expensive waterbombers mostly sit idle. The current alternative—maintaining a leased commercial fleet—is also expensive: the Australian government spends $51 million a year on the National Aerial Firefighting Fleet, a collection of commercial aircraft held on at-call leases to be available for firefighting. That’s in addition to state government arrangements, such as NSW’s $40 million annual contract.

Even though that money is budgeted, there’s no guarantee all those assets will always be available as they also fight fires in Europe and the Americas. Australia needs an adaptive, government-owned backup fleet that can be cheaply deployed if commercial leases fail to appear.

The Australian Army and Royal Australian Air Force have dozens of aircraft suitable for temporary use: Hercules and Chinooks.

The tried and tested Modular Airborne Fire Fighting System (MAFFS), developed in the United States, can be installed into an unmodified Hercules plane in four hours. The current version has a capacity of 11,000 litres, turning the carrying aircraft into a class 1 large air tanker.

There are only six large air tankers in Australia’s national firefighting fleet. The federal government is spending $9.8 billion to replace the air force’s 12 Hercules with new ones and expand the fleet to 20 aircraft.

The MAFFS are reportedly inexpensive. Unlike at-call leases, Australia would own the systems, and unlike permanent waterbombers, the aircraft would remain in use outside of firefighting.

For the army’s 14 Chinooks, the equipment would be a temporary external tank made by Helitak Firefighting Equipment of Queensland. This company has been selling its equipment with US approvals to foreign customers since 2023.

The Helitak fire tank can be installed in 30 minutes without structural modification. It holds hold 11,000 litres and can be filled in 60 seconds.

Helitak also makes a tank for Black Hawk helicopters in a 4500-litre size. The army will have 40 Black Hawks by 2030.

The 2023 Defence Strategic Review emphasised that the government should have the ‘resources and capabilities to deal with all but the most extreme domestic disaster operations’ and that ‘Defence must be the force of last resort for domestic aid’.

This recommendation was made in response to increasing Defence deployment as almost a first call to respond to natural disasters and provide community assistance. Some of those deployments are rightly criticised as an abuse of Defence resources that distracts from the organisation’s core purposes. Defence work shouldn’t be manning Australia’s state borders during Covid-19 lockdowns, acting as a surge workforce in aged care homes and mopping up mud for photo ops.

However, Defence cannot expect never to be asked to respond to disasters in Australia.

In the United States, firefighting agencies can only request a MAFFS activation after all available commercial air tanker options have been exhausted. This is an important restriction, and one that Australia should adopt to protect Defence resources. It would also keep the capability consistent with the Defence Strategic Review’s recommendations.

Australia has been relatively lucky this fire season, but we must put contingencies in place now and buy systems such as MAFFS and Helitak tanks before the next inferno.

Otherwise, when lives and livelihoods are in the path of a blaze, Australians will rightly ask why the government didn’t prepare to fight the fires we knew would come.

Indonesia has cut funding for counterterrorism programs. Australia should step in

Indonesia’s government has slashed its counterterrorism (CT) budgets, despite the persistent and evolving threat of violent extremism. Australia can support regional CT efforts by filling this funding void.

Reducing funding to the National Counterterrorism Agency (BNTP) and associated initiatives aimed at countering violent extremism (CVE) risks undoing years of progress, creating security vulnerabilities that extremist groups and foreign actors could exploit. To support regional stability, Australia should strengthen CT cooperation with Indonesia, ensuring funding for important programs and enhancing adaptability of CT efforts.

On 22 January, President Prabowo Subianto introduced a sweeping budget efficiency policy for 2025. This directive aims to reallocate 306.6 trillion Indonesian rupiah (Rp), equivalent to AU$30 billion, from the national state budget to support a priority state welfare program focused on food security. About a third of the reallocation will fund the administration’s program for free nutritious meals for school children.

Indonesia’s CT programs are facing some of the most significant budget cuts. The BNPT has been hit particularly hard, with its 2025 budget slashed by 433 billion rupiah. This cut amounts to 69.1 percent of its original allocation of 626 billion rupiah.

Although Indonesia has remained relatively free from major terrorist attacks in recent years, the significant cut to the BNPT’s funding has sparked debate over whether terrorism continues to be a pressing concern for the nation.

The agency was established in 2010 following the suicide bombings targeting the Ritz-Carlton and JW Marriott Hotels in Jakarta in July 2009. It has an expansive scope of responsibilities and significant access to resources and authority. It is mandated to oversee all aspects of Indonesia’s CT strategies. Additionally, the BNPT is led by a ministerial-level official who reports directly to the president, facilitating smoother inter-agency coordination.

While the BNPT has made progress since its inception, the recent budget cuts could undermine Indonesian CT efforts.

In addition, the broader implications of the push in the United States to defund USAID could affect Indonesia, particularly its already underfunded CT and CVE programs. Many such projects run by local NGOs in Indonesia face financial uncertainty. Defunding USAID will only make this worse.

Through its various programs in Africa, the Middle East, and Asia—including Indonesia—USAID has supported programs aimed at countering the root causes of extremism.

For example, the USAID-funded Harmoni program was designed to support initiatives promoting tolerance and resilience against violent extremism in Indonesia. The project worked with various Indonesian government bodies, local civil society organisations and community groups.

Such programs have complemented BNPT activities, particularly in areas where government efforts have fallen short. Civil society organisations play a vital role in CVE, as they maintain close relationships with practitioners in the field, have strong local networks and offer specialised expertise in the Indonesian context. Collaboration between the BNPT and these organisations is essential for the success of CVE initiatives.

The programs should not be abandoned, even amid major funding reductions. Failure to invest in counter-extremism efforts now could lead to greater security threats in the future, which requires an urgent need for alternative sources of support.

Moreover, analysts warn that a loss of USAID support could provide Beijing with an opportunity to expand its regional soft power. The China International Development Cooperation Agency does seek to expand its government’s influence in the region. While it’s uncertain whether China would fund CT and CVE initiatives, the void could heighten their interest.

The decline in terrorist attacks by groups such as al-Qaeda and Islamic State should not be viewed as mission accomplished. Experts warn that terror threats are constantly evolving, and that complacency creates vulnerability. Sustained funding for CT and CVE is important for maintaining and strengthening national security.

Australia may be Indonesia’s best option for cooperation on CT and CVE. The two countries already have a history of collaboration in this area.

The Australian government has recognised the importance of international engagement strategies on CVE, and of reassessing such strategies. A 2022 report titled ‘Preventing and Countering Terrorism and Violent Extremism 2022-26’ acknowledged the need to ‘re-examine’ its CVE objectives through to 2026.

Similarly, in Australia’s 2025 CT and CVE strategy, titled ‘A Safer Australia‘, the government outlined its commitment to strengthening international and regional partnerships and continuing cooperation to build capability in Southeast Asia.

Australia can step in to provide support and funding to Indonesia’s CT and CVE programs. Continued investment in counterterrorism is essential—waiting until threats materialise will only lead to greater challenges and higher costs in the future.

It’s time to rethink foreign aid

Foreign aid is being slashed across the Global North, nowhere more so than in the United States. Within his first month back in the White House, President Donald Trump dismantled the US Agency for International Development (USAID) and froze foreign aid, calling it wasteful and fraudulent. Britain recently followed suit, trading off its international-aid budget for higher defence spending.

Advocates of official development assistance (ODA) rightly argue that it saves lives and serves national interests. But that does not change the fact that the system has been haemorrhaging credibility and resources for years and lacks a convincing narrative.

The upcoming United Nations Conference on Financing for Development, set for mid-2025 in Seville, Spain, will likely reiterate the long-held but rarely met target for high-income countries to spend 0.7 percent of their gross national income on ODA. What is really needed, however, is an independent commission on the future of the international aid system that can forge a new political consensus on the rationales for foreign aid, while also articulating a vision for the post-aid world many are now demanding.

Without an effort to recalibrate and reset foreign aid, the system will face death by a thousand cuts. Its ambition of catalysing sustainable development will be left unrealised, and an eighty-year international cooperation regime will likely collapse with no robust alternative in its place.

The modern global aid regime has looked brittle since the 2008 financial crisis. But the US’s withdrawal is a massive blow to a system whose purpose is laid out in Article 55 of the UN Charter: ‘the creation of conditions of stability and well-being which are necessary for peaceful and friendly relations among nations.’ The US was the foremost champion of these goals: in his 1949 inaugural address, President Harry Truman called for a ‘bold new program’ for sending technology and capital to help nations afflicted by poverty, disease and misery.

By the 1950s, the US was actively promoting foreign aid as a universal obligation, both to avoid shouldering the financial burden alone and to find common cause with anti-communist allies. That led, in 1961, to then-US President John F Kennedy creating USAID. A decade later, nearly all European countries had some kind of aid program, and being a donor had become synonymous with being a modern, developed country.

Even so, spending flagged almost immediately. To reboot donor support, in 1968, the World Bank invited former Canadian Prime Minister Lester B Pearson to lead an independent commission tasked with finding a new rationale for foreign aid. In other words, the Pearson Commission sought a persuasive argument for why affluent countries beset by domestic challenges should be concerned about the plight of low-income countries.

The question remains relevant today. Even before Trump set his sights on US foreign aid, the rationale for such assistance had become increasingly tenuous. In recent years, Global North countries have directed their aid budgets toward a range of foreign-policy priorities, many of which follow the letter but not the spirit of ODA, as defined by the OECD’s Development Assistance Committee.

This includes directing development assistance to Ukraine, a middle-income country which in 2023 became the largest-ever recipient of foreign aid, while the share of aid reaching the poorest countries had declined, and hosting refugees at home, which now consumes at least one-quarter of the aid budget in seven countries.

With other public-policy priorities gobbling up resources earmarked for development assistance, the OECD’s claim that a record amount of foreign aid was spent by donors in 2023 rings hollow.

Meanwhile, foreign aid has become an easy target in high-income countries that face growing fiscal deficits, cost-of-living crises and new security concerns. Right-leaning governments, in particular, often portray this foreign assistance as inefficient and ineffective.

In 2024, seven national governments and the European Union announced $17.2 billion in cuts to ODA to be implemented sometime between 2025 and 2029. Now, the Trump administration has slashed some $60 billion in foreign assistance, while Britain will shrink its aid budget by roughly $7.6 billion per year.

Given that the world’s second-largest donor, Germany, spent $27 billion less than the US on foreign aid last year, it will be difficult for any country to fill such a large gap. And Britain’s decision suggests that there is little interest in picking up the pieces left by Trump’s wrecking ball, likely leaving us at the tipping point of peak aid.

Many have suggested using this foreign-aid crisis as an opportunity to reduce African dependency on politicised external finance through changes to global trading rules and by lowering the cost of capital, or by building a new cooperation paradigm focused on global public investment.

Yet in his drive to ‘Make America Great Again’, Trump has shown no desire to advance such alternative visions and little understanding of the value of the soft power that USAID spent decades trying to cultivate. This is why the elimination of USAID cannot be described as a normal merger between the diplomatic and development branches of government, as in Canada or Britain, but only as an attack on the US’s role as global benefactor. This offensive comes with few domestic political consequences but with a high immediate human cost for those reliant on aid-funded goods and services.

The US’s abrupt inward turn underscores the need to reimagine a global aid system built for a world order that no longer exists. One way to do this is to commission an independent, high-level review of the global aid regime that can articulate a new paradigm that does not rely on the benevolence of any single donor. A Pearson Commission 2.0 could outline several new rationales for international transfers, present alternative financial and policy frameworks, and explore new global institutional arrangements to minimise aid dependency and reduce fragmentation, while still providing for the most vulnerable and helping future generations prosper.

As these massive aid cuts take effect, the risk of contagion is real. Unless the international community undertakes a systematic effort to understand the root causes of the current crisis and explore plausible solutions, countries still investing in ODA may start to worry that they are just rearranging the deck chairs on a sinking aid ship.

How Russia will reassess its ties with North Korea after Ukraine

An agreement to end the war in Ukraine could transform Russia’s relations with North Korea. Moscow is unlikely to reduce its cooperation with Pyongyang to pre-2022 levels, but it may become more selective about areas of cooperation.

Regardless of how favourable a settlement it can achieve in Ukraine, Russia will want to challenge the US-led security architecture in Asia. Cooperation with North Korea can be a tool for this.

Russia has already made clear that it wants to be more involved in Asia: during meetings with Chinese, North Korean and Vietnamese leaders last year, it called for new security mechanisms in the region.

Military cooperation is a core of the deepened partnership between Russia and North Korea, with Moscow helping Pyongyang to modernise its military capabilities. Reportedly, Russia has sent air-defence systems, provided technologies for intercontinental ballistic missiles and agreed to supply North Korea with fighter aircraft.

Still, Moscow may be wary of sharing too much, as North Korea could become a competitor on the arms market by making cheaper copies of Russian weapons. So the pace of transfers from Russia to North Korea may decline.

Arms trade between Moscow and Pyongyang has weakened the nonproliferation regime and undermined international sanctions. This collective resistance highlights a lack of effective enforcement mechanisms: Russia simply ignores the threat of punishment, as the US ability to coerce North Korea and Russia to adhere to sanctions is limited. North Korea is notorious for its sophisticated schemes to evade sanctions and can easily work around new restrictions. Furthermore, North Korea can cooperate with Russian entities to diversify its own illegal supply chains.

North Korea has exported military equipment to Russia during the war, but Russia’s demand for it will diminish when the fighting stops. A step-up in supplies of civilian goods from North Korea is unlikely to replace this trade, because of the limitations of its economy.

North Korea can offer few goods that would be competitive in the Russian market. Its primary exports—natural resources—are abundant in Russia. Moreover, North Korea is not a useful conduit for Russia to import Western goods, because it has limited trade with Europe, unlike China, Turkey and the United Arab Emirates. As sanctions are partially lifted, Moscow will prioritise restoring economic ties with the West to boost its economy.

Russia will also want South Korea to lift sanctions and normalise economic relations with it. South Korea is one of Russia’s major trading partners, and the two economies have complementary structures. To approach Seoul, Moscow will need to scale down its military and technology cooperation with Pyongyang.

Still, Russia will want to keep a friendly North Korea as a backup option in case the West and its friends decide to reinstate sanctions.

When the fighting ends, the future of North Korean troops in Russia will become a controversial issue. While a peace deal would reduce the need for them militarily, they will probably be used as labourers in Russian-occupied territories.

Since the start of the war, Russia’s labour market has shrunk due to high enlistment numbers and a decline in foreign workers. In 2022, Deputy Prime Minister Marat Khusnullin proposed to invite around 50,000 North Korean workers to supplement the Russian workforce. In 2024, the number of North Korean workers sent to Russia skyrocketed.  If Russia continues to struggle with labour shortages, it may persist with this policy.

Moscow and Pyongyang can also continue cooperation in non-sanctioned areas, such as tourism. Their diplomats have discussed ways to simplify travel regulations to encourage Russian tourists to visit North Korean resorts. Still, North Korea remains a niche destination for Russians. In 2024, only 1500 of them visited North Korea, compared with 200,000 who travelled to South Korea, despite a lack of direct flights.

Academic collaboration is another avenue for cooperation. North Korean agreements with Russian universities include access to advanced technologies and training for specialists. North Korean delegations have visited Russia’s Moscow State University, Novosibirsk State University, Far Eastern Federal University and others, where they focused on joint projects in chemistry, medicine and information technology. As well as sending more students to Russia, North Korea will have opportunities to send illegal workers posing as students.

The threat spectrum

 

Information operations

Australia has banned cybersecurity software Kaspersky from government use because of risks of espionage, foreign interference and sabotage. The Department of Home Affairs said use of Kaspersky products posed an unacceptable security risk to the Australian government, networks and data. Government agencies have until 1 April 2025 to remove the software from all systems and devices. The ban follows a February decision to ban Chinese-owned AI platform DeepSeek from all government systems and devices.

Among members of the Five Eyes intelligence partnership, Canada, Britain and the United States had already announced restrictions on use of Kapersky products. The US banned sales and licensing of Kaspersky products within the US or by US citizens last year over fears of Russian control and influence over the company. Kaspersky said the US decision arose from the current geopolitical climate rather than technical assessments of its products.

Follow the money

Talks in Canberra last week over the future of Darwin Port and its lease to Chinese infrastructure operator Landbridge Group ended in a fizzle. Northern Territory officials met with federal counterparts after federal Labor member of parliament Luke Gosling said the government was examining options for buying back the 99-year lease. The federal opposition supported that proposal, citing the strategic significance of the port for Australian and US defence posture in the country’s north.

But last week’s meeting ended with no clear pathway forward. Northern Territory Infrastructure Minister Bill Yan expressed dismay that the federal government, citing election timing, declined to make concrete commitments about the port.

The meeting followed recent uncertainty over Darwin Port’s finances. Last November the Port disclosed a $34 million net loss for the financial year 2023–24. The port company also said Landbridge had defaulted on corporate bonds worth $107 million and might sell some of its Chinese assets in coming months.

Terror byte

A new report from Australia’s eSafety Commissioner reveals that between April 2023 and February 2024 Google received 258 user reports of suspected deepfake terrorist content made using its own AI software, Gemini. Commissioner Julie Inman Grant characterised these and other gaps in Google’s content moderation as ‘deeply concerning’.

The commissioner issued transparency reporting notices to Google, Meta, WhatsApp, X, Telegram and Reddit in March 2024 requiring each company to report on its progress in tackling harmful content and conduct online. X challenged the notice in the Administrative Review Tribunal, and Telegram has been fined over $950,000 for its delayed response. The commissioner’s report, released last week, finds Big Tech’s progress on content moderation unsatisfactory, highlighting slow response times, flawed implementations of automated moderation, and the limited language coverage of human moderators.

The eSafety commissioner has repeated calls for platforms to implement stronger regulatory oversight and increase transparency on harm minimisation efforts. This follows the latest annual threat assessment from the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, which stressed the importance of stricter content regulation in prevention against radicalization and highlighted the role that tech companies can play in this domain.

Democracy watch

The New South Wales state government introduced new hate-crime laws into parliament in response to rising antisemitic and Islamophobic violence, including a 580 percent increase in Islamophobic incidents and threats against places of worship. These laws, which the parliament passed, expanded offences of advocating or threatening violence, imposed mandatory minimum sentences and strengthened measures to prevent ideologically motivated attacks. While intended to safeguard public safety and national stability, they have sparked concerns regarding possible infringement of democratic principles, particularly freedom of expression.

While these laws aim to curb hate-fueled violence, critics argue that they may limit free expression. Others say they create loopholes. The legislation permits individuals to cite religious text in discussions, shielding certain forms of extremist rhetoric from prosecution. Additionally, the introduction of mandatory minimum sentences has been criticized for potentially undermining judicial discretion and disproportionately affecting marginalised groups.

Planet A

Tropical Cyclone Sean forced Rio Tinto to shut down Dampier port in Western Australia for five weeks in early 2025, costing 13 million metric tons in lost exports. In 2019, Cyclone Veronica closed Port Hedland, reducing Rio Tinto’s iron ore production for the year by an estimated 14 million metric tons. More recently, in February 2025, Cyclone Zelia closed Port Hedland and Dampier, disrupting iron ore shipments and halting operations at BHP, Rio Tinto, and Fortescue Metals.

An ASPI report released on the 50th anniversary of Cyclone Tracy recommended that disaster resilience must go beyond infrastructure reinforcement. To mitigate climate risks, the country also needs advanced predictive technologies, such as satellite monitoring, and early warning systems.

Understanding ’ndrangheta operations in Australia

The ’ndrangheta, the Calabrian mafia, plays a significant role in the global cocaine trade and is deeply entrenched in Australia, influencing the cocaine trade and engaging in a variety of illicit activities.

A range of ethno-geographic criminal groups facilitate the production, supply and distribution of cocaine to Australia’s highly lucrative consumer market. ASPI’s recent report highlighted the emerging threat posed by Brazilian crime groups. But such new players must be considered alongside the threat posed by multi-generational groups that have become well entrenched in Australia.

The ’ndrangheta operates through two organisational models in Australia, one local and one transnational.

The first is the Australian (rather than Calabrian or Italian) ’ndrangheta, which has been entrenched in the country for about a century, its founders having arrived in 1922. This group of criminal families, commonly known as clans, has adeptly manipulated the cultural values brought by the Calabrian diaspora, the second largest Italian group in Australia, just behind the Sicilian community.

The Australian ’ndrangheta is entrepreneurial and operates through complex formal and cultural structures. It has built its operations on local partnerships, engaging in the cocaine trade while maintaining a facade of legitimacy through fully and semi-legal businesses. These businesses cultivate community support and consensus, essential for any mafia group seeking power and influence.

The second organisational model is that of the transnational ’ndrangheta, which retains strong connections to clans based in Calabria and elsewhere in Italy. This group of clans operates across Europe—particularly in Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands—and extends its reach into Canada, the United States and parts of Latin America. These groups are based on transnational families and associates who can use a range of connections and brokers to secure a foothold in the lucrative cocaine trade.

The two organisational models of the ’ndrangheta raise significant concerns and amplify the reach of both homegrown clans and transnational networks.

While the Australian ’ndrangheta has historically engaged in drug trafficking alongside local partners, they strategically separate their illegal ventures from their legitimate enterprises. Intergenerational changes favour diversification of their business structures as families and their activities evolve. Diversification not only facilitates money laundering; it also fortifies a clan’s standing within the community, making it more challenging for authorities to dismantle its operations. This increases clans’ resilience, allowing them to maintain prominence in the criminal landscape, even as authorities attempt to target specific activities, most notably drug trafficking.

Money laundering and business integration are crucial aspects of the Australian ’ndrangheta’s activities. By integrating illicit profits into legitimate businesses, clans mask the origins of their funds, facilitating continued operations and growth. The use of fully and semi-legal enterprises serves as a cover for these activities.

This not only poses a challenge for law enforcement but also risks undermining the integrity of Australia’s financial systems. If left unchecked, money laundering can have broader economic consequences, including destabilisation of legitimate markets and erosion of public trust in financial institutions.

Additionally, political proximity poses a risk as it fosters an environment where organised crime can thrive. Australian ’ndrangheta clans have a history of cultivating relationships with local politicians and influential figures, potentially allowing them to operate unchallenged by law enforcement. The ’ndrangheta can use such connections to influence local economies and communities, making it difficult for authorities to understand their operations as they may not look criminal. Political entanglement thus hinders efforts to address the challenges posed by the transnational clans of the ’ndrangheta still engaged in drug trafficking in Australia.

On one hand, a coordinated and comprehensive transnational approach is essential to effectively counter the threat posed by Italian crime syndicates investing in the drug trade. However, the existence of pockets of ’ndrangheta power in Australia gives the transnational clans an edge in business diversification.

To tighten money laundering regulations, Australia needs to criminalise certain behaviours associated with criminal groups, not solely respond to individual crimes.  Australia also needs a better understanding of upperworld-underworld interconnectivity. Australia has used this kind of anti-consorting approach to address outlaw motorcycle gangs.

Australia’s cocaine trafficking issue is complex and requires a nuanced understanding of the various organised crime groups involved but also of what happens alongside the drug trade. The ’ndrangheta’s dual operational models emphasise the need for a response that not only addresses immediate threats but also strengthens long-term defences against transnational organised crime. By addressing the enablers of criminal resilience, closing gaps in law enforcement and mitigating the risks associated with money laundering and political connections, Australia can better protect itself from the evolving landscape of drug trafficking.

Power of persistence: Australian technology addresses challenge of space monitoring

Knowing what is going on in orbit is getting harder—yet hardly less necessary. But new technologies are emerging to cope with the challenge, including some that have come from Australian civilian research.

One example is the satellite-transmission monitoring system of Australia’s Quasar Satellite Technologies, which derived from work done by the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO). Another is FireOPAL, a passive sensor system that my company, Lockheed Martin Australia, has helped develop by building on initial progress by Curtin University in Perth.

Satellites look down at the earth in peace and war to watch over the scene or to scrutinise part of it. Some inspect other satellites and may try to disrupt them. Some are designed for communications, including military communications. So, countries need to know what each other’s satellites are up to.

They need to know which satellites are in which orbits, how they have changed course and how many minutes ago they did that. What are they transmitting? Is that a foreign satellite moving close to one of ours, maybe to jam it, or is it a piece of orbital debris? Is it already jamming?

Since the first satellite rose into space in 1957, more than 6740 launches have placed another 20,000 into Earth’s orbit. At least 10,000 are functioning, and thousands more will come online over the next few years with the construction of mega-constellations. In addition, 40,000 pieces of debris of significant size are in orbit.

The traditional way to monitor all this is to point telescopes, radars and passive radio antennas at limited parts of the sky, assembling a mosaic of pictures, or to point the sensors at particular orbital objects, whether satellites or debris. But there are only so many such sensors, and the number of satellites and pieces of debris is rising.

Also, military satellite operators are getting better at executing surreptitious manoeuvres, so a satellite that had formerly been tracked on a certain orbit might now, unknown to the tracking country, be heading somewhere else. Additionally, a technique of near-constant manoeuvring is an emerging challenge for operators.

Altogether, risks are rising that surveillance systems, pressed to keep watch on the most important targets, will miss critical events in space involving other satellites, such as a manoeuvre, break-up or malfunction. Indeed, orbital objects are sometimes not known at all until they are discovered incidentally in surveillance that wasn’t targeting them.

Australian companies are stepping up with novel solutions. With advanced antenna technology, Quasar Satellite’s technology continuously surveils radio-frequency signals not from a single point but across a broad swathe of space—for monitoring as well as communications. The technology goes back to CSIRO’s ASKAP radio telescope installed in Western Australia for scientific research.

FireOPAL stares at the sky optically. Its origin was Curtin University technology for watching the larger sections of the sky to detect atmospheric entries by meteorites. The university and Lockheed Martin Australia have adapted it to track satellites.

The key point is that sensors such as FireOPAL don’t need to be tasked with pointing at a particular spot in the sky, spending time looking there while things are happening elsewhere; they look across a wide field of view.

At the 2024 Australian Meteorological and Oceanography Society conference, a report published by defence systems integrator Peraton and Lockheed Martin Australia demonstrated that persistent wide field of view, untasked optical observation by FireOPAL could reduce the interval between successive observations of a space object to seconds. This is a remarkable and potentially disruptive advancement, because it shifts the paradigm from tasking sensors and observations to an always-on approach.

When processed through a Peraton space-domain awareness system, data from FireOPAL can detect a satellite’s manoeuvre within 60 to 120 seconds. This compares with traditional detection-to-processing speeds that can be hours or even days. This allows those watching on-orbit activities—civil space agencies and defence organisations—to make operational responses faster—for example, avoiding the risk of a collision, or countering a foreign satellite’s potentially hostile approach to a friendly one.

More work is needed to overcome the challenge of proliferating space objects. The mission systems that control and make sense of the data need adaptation. They need to be able to receive information from supplementary sources to fill gaps in collection. Open mission systems that can plug and play with diverse data sets are critical.

These sources would include broad sensor mixes such as radars, which can see through bad weather and at night as well as day. Australian companies such as Quasar Satellite offer radio-frequency monitoring capabilities that can track the position of a satellite through its emissions. Another Australian champion is Silentium Defence, which provides space domain awareness observations with passive radars.

Both companies are viable options for adding to the sensor mix.

Australia stands to play a larger role in space-domain awareness through its security alliances and such advantages as geography and skilled workforce. It can further benefit by harnessing emerging commercial developments in the sector.