Was Australian strategy in the third quarter of the twentieth century, generally known as forward defence, a strategic disaster? After the fall of Saigon in 1975 the concept of ‘forward defence’ was widely discredited, along with almost anything that could be associated with the Vietnam War, including the domino theory, the American alliance, the idea of a strategic insurance policy, even the Anzac tradition.

Forward defence, it was alleged, was a clumsy synthesis of the Red Peril and the Yellow Peril, a crude assessment that ‘we should fight them up there before we have to fight them down here’. And it was scorned as an example of Australia’s eagerness to fight ‘other people’s wars’, as we obsequiously genuflected to both Britain and the US.

ASPI has today published a Strategy paper I have written on ‘Learning from History: some strategic lessons of the forward defence era’. In the paper I suggest that we should take a fresh and slightly broader look not just at the Vietnam War but at the whole forward defence era.

If we take this broader view, we will see that the strategy of forward defence led not only to the notorious quagmire of Vietnam, but also to two other military commitments in the region: the Malayan Emergency of 1948-60, and the Indonesian Confrontation of 1963-66. In each case Australia gained significant strategic benefits at a low cost. As individuals, we usually remember our successes more clearly than our failures, but our collective memory seems to do the opposite.

Why did we get better results in two commitments than in the third? I suggest that a large part of the answer lies in the distinction between strategy and statecraft. By strategy, I mean something like what the British sometimes call grand strategy and the Americans call national strategy—a general strategic concept that indicates how a nation sees its place in the world, how it defines its national interests and how it will use its hard and soft power assets to protect and promote those interests. For any nation, that strategy will try to strike the right balance between resources and commitments. For Australia, there’s always an added imperative, to strike the right balance between our global alliances and our regional relationships.

In the decades after the Second World War, a strategy like forward defence made a good deal of sense. The combination of the rapid decolonisation of the European empires and the Cold War was creating a political cauldron in Southeast Asia. The combination of nationalism, communism and local rivalries made the regional situation both difficult to comprehend and clearly important for Australian security.

The ‘organising principles’ of the forward defence strategy were more sophisticated than simply ‘fighting them up there before we have to fight them down here’. First, the Australian government made a conscious decision that its strategic focus would be on the region. Australia would only commit military forces in Asia—after the Korean War, only in Southeast Asia. Despite British pressure, a commitment to the Middle East–Mediterranean theatre, so familiar from two world wars, was ruled out.

But Australia would only commit military forces to Southeast Asia alongside Britain or the United States or preferably both. As Canberra saw it, Australia wasn’t in the business of fighting ‘other people’s wars’. Rather, we were trying to ensure that our great and powerful friends would remain committed to our region, so that Britain and Washington would help fight our wars.

Nevertheless we didn’t want to be seen as part of a ‘white man’s club’ shaping the future of Asia. Australia wanted to be part of a broader coalition, which included Asian nations, and preferably with the sanction of a multinational organisation, such as the United Nations or the Commonwealth or the Southeast Asia Treaty Organisation (SEATO).

The difference between the outcomes in Malaya, Borneo and Vietnam arose, to a considerable extent, from the statecraft with which those principles were applied. It relates to questions like these: To what extent did Australia exercise its own political and military judgement about the situations in Southeast Asia where a commitment was being considered? To what extent, and how effectively, did we exercise independent diplomacy in the region? How well did Canberra coordinate its diplomatic, military and political strategies? Was Canberra cautious or reckless when making military commitments to its allies? Was policy made by robust discussion between the relevant ministers and departmental officials, or were important policymakers excluded or marginalised? Which came first—developing sound foreign and defence policies, or seeking short-term electoral benefits at home?

I suggest that the answers to those questions were very different in the cases of Malaya and Borneo on the one hand, and Vietnam on the other. Moreover, there was a direct link between the skill of the statecraft and the success or otherwise of the commitment.

Historians are usually reluctant to draw straight lines between historical experience and contemporary affairs, but since ASPI is designed to give advice on current policy, I end with a few ‘lessons learned’. They include some thoughts on the basic requirements of both strategy and statecraft, including the roles of Prime Ministers, Foreign Ministers, their Cabinet colleagues and their respective departmental advisers in the policymaking process. There are some suggestions concerning the need to keep long-term goals in mind alongside immediate political pressures.

And I conclude by congratulating the government on commissioning official histories of the Timor, Iraq and Afghanistan commitments (as I had called for in previous contributions to The Strategist). The new ASPI paper is a distillation of some of the strategic arguments in my book Australia and the Vietnam War, which is in turn a distillation of the nine-volume official history of Australia’s Southeast Asian conflicts, especially the two volumes on politics, strategy and diplomacy. If these new official histories are written under the same conditions as previous series, with full access to records and without official or political censorship, they should help to promote constructive debate about our strategic policies and policymaking. Thus can we learn from history.

In their recent piece on The Strategist, Natalie Sambhi and David Lang suggested that the US rebalance to the Asia–Pacific will be ‘saved’ by Hillary Clinton should she win the US presidency. While I don’t disagree, the authors do assume that no one else can start saving it in the meantime. Enter new US Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter. While Secretary Carter may seem a mere placeholder as the clock runs down on the Obama administration, it would be unwise to underestimate his potential.

It’s a common misperception that the rebalance hasn’t moved forward since 2013. A focus on the Middle East and related expertise within the administration, most famously by John Kerry and later Chuck Hagel, raised questions among some (including this author) as to whether the Obama administration was following through on its ambitious agenda. But a lack of upper-tier leadership doesn’t necessarily indicate a lack of movement.

Since 2013, mid- to senior-level US government bureaucrats and advisors, like John Anderson, Scot Marciel, Daniel Russel, Wendy Cutler and Evan Medeiros, have continued the fight, and their efforts constitute a comprehensive body of work. Though largely unknown outside of government and expert circles, they’ve kept the rebalance alive. But it’s perhaps because these individuals have been keeping the rebalance going that the lack of senior leadership seems more significant.

A common concern expressed by officials from major US ally states in the Indo–Pacific has been the absence of authoritative leadership on Asia within the Obama administration. Though many caveat this with an appreciation for the President’s interest in the region, they’re fully aware that his attention is ever divided. Despite efforts at all levels of the US government to sustain the rebalance, there’s a clear limit to achievability in the absence of a proverbial helmsman. A senior leader not only serves as the public face of the effort but also ties together the disparate streams, providing consistency, focus and coherence.

The leader of the rebalance effort—and US asia policy more generally—must be the Secretary of State or the Secretary of Defense. In the first case, the US’ chief diplomat would naturally be expected to lead any major shift in US foreign policy. In the second, as the Department of Defense has the largest US government stake in Asia, its leader is critical to shaping both the form and substance of engagement in the region. But how have the holders of those offices performed since 2013?

While Secretaries John Kerry, Leon Panetta and Chuck Hagel are all accomplished, each man was chosen to face specific tactical situations; the rebalance wasn’t a priority for any of them. Kerry’s emerged as the point man for renewed diplomatic efforts in the Middle East. During his brief tenure as Secretary of Defense, Panetta’s priority was to ensure the Pentagon followed through on budget adjustments started by his predecessor, Robert Gates. Finally, Hagel was selected, in part, based on a hope that his appointment would help smooth relations with Congress.

That’s not to say they lacked enthusiasm for US Asia policy. In fact, prior to his resignation, Secretary Hagel was noted for the energy he displayed during his travels to the Indo–Pacific, particularly his efforts to reassure allies and engage key stakeholders. But enthusiasm isn’t an alternative to being knowledgeable, nor is it possible to feign interest with any credibility. This wasn’t lost on US’ allies in the region; it was a mistake to assume that it would have been.

Among the more interesting things to come out of Secretary Carter’s speech in Arizona on 6 April was the exchange between prominent think tankers across the Pacific. While the inconsistencies raised shouldn’t be ignored, it would be a disservice to disregard the underlying reason for the quick defence: Ashton Carter, as a representative of the US, is taking Asia seriously.

The mixed impression from the US’ most senior defence official speaking on trade is undeniable. However, equally undeniable are the credentials of the man making the case. Secretary Carter’s long advocacy for strong US Asia policy has been well reported, ranging from expanded defence cooperation with India to arguing the merits of a more comprehensive US presence during the 1990s. However these are only indicative of his deep interest and constitute only a part of his potential consequentialism.

The other factor which defines Ashton Carter’s potential, and something which I suspect the Obama Administration and the US expert community hope allies will notice, is what Carter is versus what his immediate predecessors weren’t: an official chosen for his expertise in dealing with political, strategic, technical, and bureaucratic complexities. More importantly, Carter is not only respected throughout the region, but also at home and across party lines.

Natalie and David recognise that, if successful, Hillary Clinton would ‘face an international environment that’s familiar in thematic terms only with a set of strategic challenges more acute than they are today and were when she left the Obama administration just over two years ago.’ While they’re hopeful and confident that Hillary Clinton could rise to meet those challenges, some problems simply won’t wait. In that regard, Ash Carter ticks all the right boxes and he has made it clear that he’s ready and willing to start saving the rebalance now.

In between steaming bowls of organic steel-cut oats and workouts deploying the one-legged Romanian deadlift, supple Bob Carr’s Diary of a Foreign Minister heaps praise on Hillary Clinton, ‘a world-historical figure’ for her energy, sharpness and tough campaigning skills. At their first meeting Carr frets about his ‘threadbare credentials’ while Hillary delivers a lesson in savvy statecraft: urging him not to accept Australian media reporting that the US marine deployment to Darwin is an ‘anti-China one.’ Hillary says ‘the Chinese practice gamesmanship in seeking advantage, but we would not let that change our own national interest.’

What a pity Carr didn’t follow this advice. In much of his diaries he worries about Australian defence cooperation with the US. ‘How does that get read in the Chinese embassy?’ he asks. When Carr meets Clinton for the 2012 AUSMIN meeting in Perth, he proudly goes out of his way to have ‘speed limits placed on the move towards a greater US military presence in Australia.’ Kim Beazley warns from Washington: ‘There is a hint that the Americans feel our strategic vision is being distorted by sensitivity to Chinese pressure on our political system.’

Bob Carr had a tin ear for alliance dynamics, but his description of Hillary at AUSMIN is wonderful:

‘She stepped off her big plane, eyes hidden behind large-framed oval sunglasses, her hair pulled back, an outsize light blue jacket and black slacks. She knew all our names, she didn’t complain about the fatigue, she said she was delighted to be here. For God’s sake, we’ve made her travel for thirty-five hours to reach Perth to give Stephen Smith another triumph for his home town – and even with touchdowns in Hawaii and Guam she projected freshness and charm.’

Hillary’s interest in Asia and engagement with Australia contrasts sharply with her successor at the State Department. Beazley wrote to Carr in February 2013: ‘[John Kerry] has been largely inaccessible to us. …unlike the situation with Clinton, Australia does not rank highly. Kerry wants big achievements. Erroneously Asia is not perceived as the locus of big achievements.’

Beazley’s view was spot on. Subsequent AUSMINs have been wooden affairs. Kerry has sought his own world-historical status in the Middle East largely by boosting Iran, ignoring Iraq and annoying Israel—an unusual American recipe. President Obama’s second-term engagement with Australia has been limited. In November last year Obama bypassed talks in Canberra preferring to lecture star-struck students in Brisbane about climate change and repeating the same jokes about Australian accents that he used on his 2011 visit. Of course, the Americans love us: in 2013 Obama told Abbott in Washington, ‘Aussies know how to fight. I like to have them in a foxhole when we are in trouble.’ But foxholes are cold places not designed for warm relationships.

Clinton has a long journey to reach the White House and she may not win the presidency if the Republicans field a credible candidate. But if she succeeds, it’s likely that US–Australia relations would warm and that the US would put yet more emphasis on the Asia–Pacific. It’s possible (Bob Carr certainly thinks so) that Clinton would make her close allies Kurt Campbell Secretary of State and Michèle Flournoy Secretary of Defence. In Obama’s first term Campbell and Flournoy were the architects of the pivot to Asia and the enhanced program of defence cooperation with Australia. This would be a formidable trio that knows Australia well and values the role we play in global security.

Clinton will look for ways to distance herself from Obama’s legacy. She will presumably concentrate on domestic affairs because that will determine the election. On foreign policy she will likely reposition the Democrats into a more traditional mode of engagement and supporting key allies. Her biggest immediate security challenge will be to shape a coherent response to instability in the Middle East. As a key defence adviser to the Hillary campaign its notable that Michèle Flournoy has been calling for increased defence spending and for more efforts to reassure Asian allies of US commitment to regional security.

Clinton offered some rather shrewd advice to Australia in mid-2014. According to journalist Paul McGeough:

‘Interviewed for Fairfax Media’s Good Weekend on the launch of her memoir Hard Choices, Clinton warned that the Abbott government’s drive for even more trade with China ‘makes you dependent, to an extent that can undermine your freedom of movement and your sovereignty, economic and political.’ … It’s a mistake whether you’re a country, or a company or an individual to put, as we say in the vernacular, all your eggs in the one basket. Just as it was a mistake for Europe to become so dependent on a single supplier. Starting in March 2009, I made that case to the Europeans, that they were increasingly dependent on gas from Russia.’’

If Hillary becomes President there will be a sharper US interest in the direction of our own foreign policy. The price of closer US engagement will be higher American expectations of Australia. That would be a welcome discipline.

This piece was drawn from the second part of a presentation to the 2015 Chief of Air Force Symposium, the theme of which was ‘Integrating Air Power.’

At last year’s Air Power Conference in Canberra I spoke around the theme of the future of air power for Australia. Beyond recognising a continuing need for an air power capability, I suggested that there were three key tasks that needed to be considered to make sure the Air Force was optimised to meet Australia’s likely strategic needs. Those tasks included:

• ‘irreducible core tasks we should make sure we can perform without allied assistance in support of our own defence needs in Australia and our nearer region’
• ‘critical high-end niche roles we’d expect to deliver only in an alliance or coalition context’ and
• ‘air power capabilities we should maintain to deliver in a broader regional context’.

As a follow-up to my recent post on integration, it’s useful to ask what particular integration challenges are raised when we consider those three key tasks. Read more

Trend stories are always about the warmth of the water and the health of the frog. How close to boiling is the water, how much capacity does the frog have to respond?

Asia’s darkest trend story is the fear that the political, diplomatic and security system is not strong enough to deal with the mounting pressures. The water is getting hotter and Asia’s frogs, big and small, are having trouble deciding which way to jump.

A fine annual measure of trend and temperature is the Regional Security Outlook issued by CSCAP, the Council for Security Cooperation in the Asia Pacific. Set up in 1993, CSCAP is the Track Two organisation for the ASEAN Regional Forum. I’ve spent a lot of years reporting on the ARF and I’m a member of CSCAP. That makes me an old lag on two counts. Contrary to Groucho’s joke, I’m proud to be a member of the club that is CSCAP—and always impressed by the collective smarts it draws out of thinkers and players from across that extraordinarily diverse thing we try to encompass with the singular noun, ‘region’. Read more