Tag Archive for: Australia-China Relations

ASPI suggests

The world

With Tech Geek taking a week off, this ‘Suggests’ includes more on the world.

The story of Wang Liqiang, who declared that he was a Chinese spy, broke this week with reporting in The Age and Sydney Morning Herald and an interview on 60 Minutes. China was quick to label him a fraudster and released footage of him allegedly confessing to his crimes. The Diplomat has more details. This episode of Chinese espionage in Australia could be the ‘greatest threat to Australian security’ since the Petrov Affair in the 1950s—though Tony Walker argues it shouldn’t be overhyped. Writing in The Strategist, Michael Shoebridge is fairly confident that Wang is who he says he is, and he also examines the alleged approach of Liberal Party member Nick Zhao by Chinese operatives who wanted to pay him to run for parliament. Michelle Grattan, meanwhile, has analysed ASIO director Mike Burgess’s statement on the matter and its implications in The Conversation, saying it lends credibility to Wang’s claims and obliges ASIO to inform the public of what emerges from the investigation.

Some spectacular interactive websites examining the activities of China’s rulers have been launched this week. ASPI’s China Defence Universities Tracker investigates the civil–military fusion of many Chinese organisations, what their research focuses on, and the risk of the findings of joint research projects with foreign entities ending up in the hands of the Chinese military. The Lowy Institute’s 2019 Global Diplomacy Index places China in pole position as the country with the most diplomatic posts across the world—including six in Australia. And back to ASPI, where the Mapping China’s Tech Giants site has just been updated to include projects by 23 Chinese companies in 96 countries utilising over 26,000 data points.

With each new climate change report comes alarming statistics about the future of our planet and its inhabitants. The UN Environment Programme’s Emissions gap report 2019 contains some of the scariest data yet. The world is on track to produce 56 gigatons of CO2-equivalent by 2030, double what would keep the increase in global temperatures to 1.5°C as outlined in the Paris agreement. See the UNEP interactive site for the quick facts and figures. Looking at Africa and Asia, Nature Climate Change has also released a report focusing on climate change and gender, noting ‘that environmental stress is a key depressor of women’s agency’. A link to the report, and its key findings, can be found in this ABC article. And if you aren’t worried enough, National Geographic has outlined nine ‘tipping points’ which are under threat, including ice sheets, coral reefs and forests, some of which are reaching a point of no return.

And while the media has been fixated on the demonstrations in Hong Kong, myriad protests have emerged across the globe, with many erupting into severe civil unrest.

In the Arab world, significant unrest continues in Algeria, Iran, Iraq, Lebanon and Sudan. Though Iran’s supreme leader, Ali Khamenei, recently dismissed these protests as being a consequence of an American ‘conspiracy’ owing to its ‘global arrogance’, commentators at DW and Time have suggested that a new Arab spring is taking shape. Academic Hamid Dabashi, using terms like ‘open-ended revolutions’ and ‘delayed defiance’, asserts that the 2011 Arab spring never really ended.

The worst civil violence in decades has similarly raged across South America and the Caribbean—in Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador and Haiti. These protests have largely been sparked by grassroots movements condemning social inequality and the corrupt elite, and calling for comprehensive reform. But as Foreign Policy points out, the story is more complicated than that. Check out this article from Quartz, which illustrates the Chilean narrative of a nation plagued by extreme inequality veiled by its prosperous economic growth and rising per capita incomes.

In the Spanish region of Catalonia, more than half a million demonstrators have gathered in response to the jailing of Catalan separatist leaders. The South China Morning Post discusses the relevance of the protests in Barcelona and Hong Kong. As globalisation and interconnectivity increase rapidly, it seems such protests can have a powerful ‘contagion’ effect. BBC analysis suggests that there may be a common thread among these anti-establishment demonstrations across the globe as governments come under pressure to address corruption, income inequality and a lack of political freedom. See the ABC’s explainer of the causes and implications of the protests.

This week in history

On 28 November 1893, New Zealand held a general election in which, for the first time anywhere in the modern world, women voted. This was a major development in gender parity globally, but the fight continues. See The Atlantic for photos depicting the battle for women’s suffrage in the US.

Multimedia

Al Jazeera’s Counting the Cost has a short documentary on how mercenaries are changing the shape of war, circumventing international law and democratic accountability. [25:30]

Sometimes one has to stop and appreciate the beauty of the world around us. The Atlantic presents the winners of the 2019 Epson International Pano Awards with a collection of stunning images of the natural and man-made environments.

Podcasts

‘The spies who suck at spying’. The title of this week’s Russia, If You’re Listening podcast says it all as Matt Bevan explores espionage blunders that have had global consequences. [21:20]

Is international law positively or negatively impacting the stability of the Indo-Pacific? Chatham House investigates. [18:20]

This week in the National Security Podcast, Maldives Defence Minister Mariya Didi discusses the impacts of climate change on her country, and what’s driven the Maldives towards India and Sri Lanka as its prime security partners. [26:14]

Events

Canberra, 3 December, 9 am – 5 pm, ASPI: ‘Space policy masterclass’. Register here.

Melbourne, 4 December, 5.30–7.30 pm, Australian Institute of International Affairs: ‘The scope for greater Five Eyes cooperation in the Arctic and Antarctic’. Tickets here ($30).

China’s military–civil fusion policy has far-reaching implications for universities

When Xu Yanjun travelled to Belgium in April 2018, he wasn’t there as a tourist but as an officer of China’s Ministry of State Security. Xu had been lured to Belgium by US authorities who then extradited him and are now prosecuting him on charges of economic espionage.

This was a remarkable case for a number of reasons. It was the first-ever arrest of a Chinese intelligence officer—and not simply an agent or asset—by the United States. And the indictment mentioned Xu’s accomplice, a senior executive at Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics. This man worked with Xu to lure American jet engine experts to China, and then recruit them.

Xu’s partnership with this university in Nanjing reveals the tip of the iceberg in terms of links between China’s universities and its defence and security establishment. In 2018, ASPI’s International Cyber Policy Centre published Picking flowers, making honey, a report that laid out the Chinese military’s extensive presence within foreign universities, to which more than 2,500 of its scientists have been sent as visiting scholars or students.

Now, the China Defence Universities Tracker website records in unprecedented detail how more and more Chinese universities are becoming integrated with China’s military apparatus, security agencies and nuclear weapons program. This has serious implications for governments and universities in how they approach research collaboration with China.

Picking flowers, making honey described a problem; the China Defence Universities Tracker aims to be part of the solution. While Australia’s universities generally have systems in place to manage collaboration, vet visiting scholars and ensure research integrity, they aren’t working. Media reporting and scholarly research have uncovered numerous cases of universities working with companies implicated in human rights abuses or with the Chinese military and its proxies.

The newly released Guidelines to counter foreign interference in the Australian university sector are a valuable tool for universities to revisit and hopefully revise these systems. But efforts to manage collaboration will only be successful if they seek out and incorporate the kinds of information included in the tracker.

Built by an international team of China analysts, including Alex Joske, Charlie Lyons Jones, Elsa Kania, Samantha Hoffman and Audrey Fritz, the tracker is a book-length database on over 160 civilian universities, military institutions, police and intelligence academies, and defence conglomerates. It identified nearly 200 defence laboratories and 400 specific fields of research designated by the Chinese government as ‘disciplines with defence characteristics’ across nearly 100 civilian universities.

It also records the Ministry of Public Security’s growing university partnerships on surveillance technologies amid the disappearance of an estimated 1.5 million Muslim ethnic minorities into Xinjiang’s camps. On the basis of these and other findings, it sorts universities into risk categories.

Research for the tracker has found that China’s defence system historically relied on a group of seven leading universities known as the ‘Seven Sons of National Defence’ to train defence scientists and push forward the cutting edge of defence technology. These universities, such as Beihang University and Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics, are still dominant, sending a third of their graduates to the defence sector. Defence research spending by just one of them, Harbin Institute of Technology, nearly matches the Australian government’s spending on defence technology research.

But the Chinese Communist Party’s policy of military–civil fusion has been drawing more universities into China’s defence innovation system. Now, at least 61 universities have been supervised by China’s defence industry agency, in addition to the Seven Sons of National Defence.

A broader measure—the number of universities awarded clearances to participate in classified research—brings us to more than 150 universities. For example, Tsinghua University, known as ‘China’s MIT’, hosts at least eight defence labs, one of which works on air-to-air missiles. Its internet servers have been linked to cyberattacks around the world, including against Tibetan dissident communities. In 2013, 40 PhD students at Tsinghua were sponsored by China’s nuclear weapons program and required to work for it after graduation.

China’s state-owned defence conglomerates have also been described in the tracker. These manufacturers of guns, missiles, jets, warships and radars jointly supervise at least nine Chinese universities, funding them, running laboratories with them, and playing a role in their management. They have also increased their overseas presence since 2012.

Our research has found at least 14 joint labs or partnerships these conglomerates have established with universities in the UK, Austria, Germany, Switzerland and Australia. These joint labs host Chinese missile and military aviation experts and—in the case of the University of Technology Sydney’s partnership—have been linked to surveillance systems.

How can Australia grapple with the deepening of our research collaboration with China at the same time as the Chinese Communist Party cultivates so-called universities with defence characteristics? The government, universities and individual researchers all have important roles to play here. It will be important for the government to revise and enforce relevant legislation and to continue working with universities to develop responses that protect university autonomy and academic freedom.

But, ultimately, only by recognising the problem and understanding where their systems have fallen short can universities prepare themselves for the future.

Australia–China relations and the logic of conventional deterrence

Until China’s emergence as a genuine military great power, conventional military threats to Australia were considered remote, yet there had to be some rationale for developing strategic policy. In practice, the Australian Defence Force prepared for a conflict that was never going to happen. There was never a credible threat.

An illusory adversary was created that generated a number of important concepts to justify significant defence expenditure but also pay deference to the reality. These included the notion of warning time—that necessary preparations by an adversary would give Australia sufficient time to get ready to respond. This in turn gave rise to the concept of an expansion force—that the ADF should be structured to be the skeleton of a much larger and easily assembled force.

A subsequent set of truisms emerged to help inform the defence investment program. It was believed that any attack on Australia would need to come from or through the archipelago to the north. An assault across the renowned sea–air gap would necessarily require an adversary to establish bases in the region. The priorities, therefore, were to have a maritime strike capability to intercept enemy forces on approach and a land strike capability to prevent the establishment of, or to destroy, enemy bases.

These were practical and artful steps to assist governments in shaping and defending their investment in defence at a time of little real threat. What’s remarkable is the tenacity and persistence of these inventive notions in today’s completely different geostrategic situation. The faraway Soviet Union—the putative threat back then—has now been replaced by China, a real regional great power that has, or will soon have, the ability to exert significant military force against Australia.

In this context, Australia must be clear about the signal, explicit or implied, that force structure and force posture send to the Chinese.

There appear to be two key strands in current strategic thinking. Australia would automatically join the US in any conflict with China, or the ADF must be able independently to deter a conventional attack on Australia by China. While the government’s public position appears to be the former, the latter case raises the practicality of conventional deterrence.

The message for strategic policymakers is not that China represents a current military threat to Australia—it’s difficult to imagine a cause that would involve China’s national interests—but that they need to shed the habit of falling back on outdated and now irrelevant concepts. If China did decide to attack Australia, there would be no meaningful warning time as the People’s Liberation Army’s force-in-being would prove sufficient.

Against an ADF positioned to defend the sea–air gap and Australia’s northern and western approaches vigorously, the PLA would have other options, including stand-off attacks on major east coast urban centres and vital infrastructure from far out in the Pacific. It’s hard to see why they would attack our northern approaches.

The idea that Australia might pre-emptively attack Chinese bases on foreign soil, initiating a conflict and involving a neighbouring state, is unrealistic.

Conventional deterrence was the subject of the 2018 RAND Corporation report What deters and why. Deterrence was examined from the perspective of a global superpower considering ways to deter potential aggressors abroad from attacking America’s allies. The report analysed ‘strategies for preventing interstate aggression in areas far removed from the deterrer’s home territory’.

The report identified three elements to consider. A deterrence strategy is ‘much less effective without attention to the larger geostrategic context’. Deterrence must be seen ‘primarily as an effort to shape the thinking of a potential aggressor’. And aggression that leads to conflict ‘typically results from a complex decision process that unfolds gradually and is not characterized by a single decision point’.

For Australia to find itself confronting China without the prospect of US support, there would have to have been a tectonic shift in geostrategic circumstances in the Pacific. The US would have had to have withdrawn from contesting East Asia with China, either because of a lack of political will or because of a realisation that it wasn’t going to prevail or that coming to Australia’s aid would create an unacceptable risk to the US homeland—scenarios in which there would be few restraints on China.

In either situation, there would be little prospect of a China with a sufficiently strong motive being militarily deterred by Australia. Avoiding conflict would call for a diplomatic effort.

This brings in the RAND report’s third point: avoiding situations in which Australia is likely to be confronted by overwhelming military force is a project that requires hard and continuous diplomatic work in building up shared understandings, channels of communications and robust relationships. Foreign and economic policy should be long-sighted and its implementation aligned with the realities of strategic policy.

The evolving geostrategic situation in East Asia and the profound doubts that now circle the reliability of the US as an ally present Australia with a difficult strategic conundrum. Australians wouldn’t tolerate submission to a Chinese suzerain or the role of mendicant or supplicant in Canberra’s relations with Beijing. On the other hand, to think Australia’s military strength is ever going to be sufficient to deter China from attacking is a fantasy.

Much of the responsibility for Australia’s future security will be borne by our diplomats and the foreign policy they are charged with pursuing.

Australia’s emerging China policy

The post mortems on Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s US visit and speech in Chicago on Chinese state trade distortions didn’t wait for the trip to finish. We’ve had the line from opposition leader Anthony Albanese that the big issue was that the speech was delivered in the US. And another from the Chinese Communist Party paper the China Daily that ‘Australia still needs to fine tune its perceptions of China’, which was echoed by some strident visiting Chinese university folk.

We’ve even seen a repackaging of the much loved ‘Australia needs to reset its relationship with Beijing by changing the tone and language’ mantra. It now appears to be necessary for a new reason—because, apparently, Australia has joined the US–China trade war.

The visit had its hokey moments and lots of Trumpian theatrics, certainly. It was an important demonstration that the Australia–US relationship is deep and as much an economic as a strategic one. But the big outcome of the trip is a further articulation of Australia’s emerging China policy.

On the Albanese call: there are two tests for any Australian prime minister speaking on a critical issue like China policy. The first is whether the same speech could have been given anywhere—in Beijing, Canberra, Delhi, Brussels, Jakarta, Port Moresby, Washington or Rockhampton. This one could have.

To focus on its being delivered in the US as an indicator of Australia’s alignment in the trade war is superficial and tactically political. Before rushing to such a judgement, it’s worth actually reading the speech, because Morrison did not endorse US President Donald Trump’s deficit-focused trade war. Instead, he called for international action on underlying issues. The more important question is whether Morrison will be consistent if and when he visits Beijing.

That brings us to the substance. Morrison’s speech sketched out the changes to China’s economy since it joined the World Trade Organization in 2001. The case is well founded and consistent, with analysis from organisations like the OECD and the European Commission, as well as reports of the US Trade Representative. It also aligns with the views of almost all G20 leaders and finance ministers, and sits well with APEC’s unreleased communiqué of 2018 that all leaders agreed to except Chinese President Xi Jinping.

It’s based on some simple big things. Since 2001, the combination of China’s new wealth, the leadership’s prioritisation of trade and high-end economic development, and a comprehensive set of structural policies—including intellectual property theft at scale, forced intellectual property transfers, state subsidies and market protections—has distorted world trade to the disadvantage of many economies that engage with China’s. That’s because their own firms have been put at a competitive disadvantage by the Chinese state’s policies and practices.

China’s fabulous growth in recent decades has been enabled by other economies, including Australia’s, engaging with it on these terms. However, now China’s wealth, and its use of that wealth in its distorted international economic engagement, is a global problem that must be addressed.

It has resulted, for example, in Chinese ‘national champions’—like Huawei—using their home market protections and advantages to compete against firms that haven’t been given these state-derived boosts when bidding for work—such as building others’ national 5G networks.

The fact that per capita GDP in China is still well below that of other countries possessing large, highly developed economies like much of China’s is as much about how Xi and previous leaders have used China’s new wealth. They have chosen not to spread it broadly, but instead created a large middle class and a sizeable luxury class of ultra-wealthy individuals—the China Daily boasted last October that China had produced the most billionaires globally in 2017. Those decisions have resulted in a two-track economy: the developed bit is deeply engaged with the international economy, and the undeveloped portion is lagging behind.

Priority has also been given to increasing the capacity of the Chinese state’s internal security forces to confront and control their own citizens, and strengthening China’s external military, cyber, space and intelligence power.

Xi’s three signature programs—the Belt and Road Initiative, ‘Made in China 2025’ and military–civil fusion—continue his focus on growing strategic, technological and economic power to be used by the state. At the same time, the BRI will attempt to spread the economic largesse from China’s highly developed coastal regions inland along its spines, although not at the expense of internal security or the People’s Liberation Army.

The visiting Chinese university team, accompanied by embassy minders, reacted to Morrison’s Chicago speech by claiming Australia is the pioneer of a global anti-China campaign.

That statement contains a truth hidden in an obscuration: there is a global anti-China campaign—but it’s being led by Xi, not Australia.

Former CCP leaders, from Deng Xiaoping to Hu Jintao, were subtle enough to grow China’s economic and state power quietly and well. Xi, by contrast, is a man in a hurry, and since 2012 he has switched the national agenda to a much more aggressive, assertive and confident use of China’s newly built military, economic, technological and cyber power in pursuit of his ‘China Dream’ of a Sino-centred world.

Think of the military’s takeover under Xi of chunks of the South China Sea. And of the Chinese state’s aggressive cyber hacking, including into Australia’s parliament and our three major political parties. And of its large-scale foreign interference in other countries’ politics. And of the steps it has taken to establish military bases and a presence beyond the PLA’s first overseas base in Djibouti—for example, in Cambodia.

Xi is also galvanising international opposition over his increasingly repressive use of state security forces and technology against China’s own people. Xinjiang and Hong Kong are two obvious examples.

As Isaac Newton told us, for every action there’s a reaction. Xi’s actions have been the catalyst for a broad and growing international reaction to Chinese structural economic policies and practices and the Chinese state’s use of its power domestically and internationally. Again, 5G and Huawei are a prime example; the Indian, Japanese and EU nations’ considerations about their various national networks are being informed by this reaction. Who can tell what strategic adjustments are being urged on Xi or what pressures are developing within the CCP leadership?

Regardless, this is bad news, obviously, for China and the world. But it also means that Australia is not alone in needing to manage this new kind of China. Morrison is in good company with the directions he set out in Chicago.

For the future, he will need to continue to centre his public policy engagement with Australians and with every other leader as he has to date—on Australia’s national interests.

That will become increasingly important if Albanese continues with his Chicago sound bite about Morrison’s China policy being an endorsement of the US in the Trump–Xi trade dispute. It’s more likely that Albanese is smart enough to see that any tactical political advantage to him from driving a bipartisan divide into Australia’s China policy isn’t worth the damage it would do to our national interests.

And he’ll have to get past shadow defence minister Richard Marles’s odd line that ‘ultimately, we have made a decision to engage. We made that decision back in 1972. We continue with that decision now’—as if we are somehow powerless to adjust how we engage in the face of the fundamental changes that have occurred since 1972 in China’s power and the way the CCP uses it.

Albanese has a ready solution to hand here, given his Labor colleague Penny Wong’s speech on the international economy, China and the US. As with Morrison’s speech, the shadow foreign minister’s remarks align pretty closely with the broader concerns expressed by G20 leaders, the OECD and the EU and so provide a continued basis for bipartisanship on this crucial set of issues.

All the handwringing from pro-CCP advocates about Australia needing to reset the relationship—which seems to involve apologising for and reversing decisions made in our national interest—needs to be seen in this broader context. No prime minister should apologise for acting in Australia’s national interests. And no political leader should fall into the trap of characterising tension in the relationship as attributable to the ‘vibe’ of Australian language rather than the facts of Chinese state actions.

There’s also the comforting and practical observation that fears of Xi’s state taking large punitive economic actions against Australia have simply not materialised, because our trade relationship with Beijing is one of interdependence. In fact, our two-way trade relationship has continued to grow and is now worth some $215 billion. The Chinese economy needs our resources and services, arguably even more at a time of growing economic challenges.

The Chicago speech put Australia’s approach to Chinese economic policies and actions right in the middle of the crystallising consensus in OECD and G20 nations. Australia is similarly in good company in pushing back on Chinese state conduct in Hong Kong and Xinjiang. None of this will make it any easier to deal with Xi’s strategic, technological and economic agenda, but it’s a good place to be.

Beyond economics, the prime minister and the opposition are both yet to craft a clear approach to domestic China policy. The Gladys Liu affair shows the problems in seeking to distill the diverse Australian Chinese communities of 1.2 million people into a single individual. And the government has yet to articulate a way to empower these diverse voices, so that public debate on China is informed by more than the ‘curated garden’ of groups and voices the Chinese embassy and its consulates manage.

Morrison also has yet to confront intrusive Chinese state interference—either by attributing the hacks on the parliament and political parties to the Chinese Ministry of State Security now that Australian agencies will have done the forensic work to allow this, or through prosecution when presented with the first case of an individual with undisclosed financial links to Beijing under Australia’s new foreign influence transparency scheme.

Unless those around Xi convince him to change course, the hard times for many states engaging with his China, for the 1.4 billion people living under party rule, and for Xi and the CCP in return, are yet to come. Australia has at least begun to build a framework for this new difficult era.

Australian universities and China: we need clear-eyed engagement

The relationship between Australian universities and China is attracting growing attention and some criticism.

Three questions are being asked: are universities too dependent on the China market, is Chinese influence in Australian universities excessive, and what boundaries should be drawn around research collaboration with China? None of the answers are simple and all require vigilance from universities.

Attracting international students to Australian universities has been a national project for over three decades. It has delivered some impressive results, creating a quarter of a million jobs, generating some $38 billion of economic activity, strengthening our regional relationships and creating a pool of alumni who know Australia well and mostly think highly of us. Many will go on to leadership positions.

Less well understood is that international fees now also subsidise Australian research, which in turn is critical to the high global rankings of our universities.

University leaders have long been aware of the risks of overdependence on the China market. Most have active diversification strategies. At the University of Queensland, we are also working on creating a future fund so that a proportion of international fees can be used on scholarships and strategic investments. Managing the financial risk of overdependence on a single market is high on our list of priorities.

There has been a lot of excited commentary on the influence of China on our campuses. What the recent demonstrations on university campuses over Hong Kong show is that universities remain firmly committed to freedom of expression. Restricting that freedom through intimidation and disruption is unacceptable, as is threatening the families of those who participated.

Confucius Institutes have been cast as a Chinese Trojan horse. One commentator has gone so far as to suggest the vice chancellor of UQ, Peter Hoj, is a stooge of the Chinese Communist Party. Such remarks belong more to the anti-communist witch hunts of the McCarthy era in the US than to the rational debate we need to have in Australia.

Professor Hoj has been utterly transparent about his association with the Confucius Institutes. Indeed, he has used that relationship to advise them of the importance of appointing independent staff and respecting the autonomy of host institutions, including following their human resources regulations and procedures.

Apparently Hoj is guilty of the egregious sin of promoting educational links with China. This same vice chancellor who is accused of being so close to the CCP has been instrumental in promoting the recent signing of a memorandum of understanding with the Ramsay Centre to teach a degree course in Western civilisation at UQ: an initiative that has the full backing of the university senate.

Here are the facts on the Confucius Institute at UQ. Its courses earn no credit towards a degree. It teaches no course on politics in China or Chinese foreign policy. It has worked with the Queensland police force to help educate visiting Chinese about safety at Australian beaches. It does offer courses on Chinese language and culture, and when it was established at UQ in 2009 this was considered a good thing, as was the idea of greater Asia literacy in Australia. In my view they remain worthy objectives.

UQ is a leading research university and our research links with China are substantial and growing. Collaboration is essential to research and innovation. We do, however, recognise that research collaboration should not come at a cost to our national security. That is why we welcome the dialogue which the government has initiated to more clearly define ‘no go’ areas of research with foreign partners and also to deal sensibly with grey zones of research so that we don’t ‘throw the baby out with the bathwater’.

Australia has to come to grips with China’s emergence as a leading economy and a research powerhouse. Our political systems and values are very different. But boycotting China is not a sensible option. What we need is a clear-eyed engagement with China which serves our interests and is faithful to our values. We would do well to make that the touchstone of our approach, whether as a nation or a university.

It’s not in the ‘national interest’ for the backbench to shut up about China

Trade minister Simon Birmingham on Sunday weighed into the debate over Andrew Hastie’s warning about China rise. Birmingham said colleagues should ask themselves two questions before speaking out on ‘sensitive foreign policy matters’.

These were: ‘Is the making of those comments in a public way necessary? And is it helpful to Australia’s national interest?’

On a narrow view, the warning by Hastie—the chair of the powerful Parliamentary Joint Committee on Intelligence and Security—about Australia not being alive enough to the dangers of an ever-more-powerful China was not ‘necessary’; nor was it particularly helpful to a government trying to manage a relationship that gets more complicated all the time.

But the idea that backbenchers shouldn’t voice considered views on such a major long-term issue for this country shows a certain contempt for parliamentary democracy.

Birmingham, speaking on the ABC, said: ‘There are a range of ways in which any of us can contribute and we can do that with direct discussion with ministers and with leadership in backbench committees and other ways’.

Decoded, the message to the backbench was: Boys and girls, when in public just follow the talking points we give you.

Amid the noisy chatter and clatter of our current politics, serious foreign policy discussions among politicians are relatively rare.

But the broad community debate grows ever stronger about China and its implications for Australia—including the now-great power’s trajectory, our dependence on it economically, its reach into this country (including through investment and our educational institutions), and how we juggle our respective relationships with it and the United States.

New Liberal backbencher Dave Sharma entered the China debate at the weekend, with a robust thread of nearly a dozen tweets, in support of Hastie.

A former senior diplomat, Sharma is more steeped in foreign policy than most on the frontbench.

‘Hastie is right to ring the bell on this issue, and to warn that our greatest vulnerability lies in our thinking, which is Panglossian at times’, he wrote.

Significantly, Sharma also supported Hastie’s comparison with France’s failure to comprehend properly the rise of Germany before World War II.

‘In WW2, we failed to realise early enough that German ambitions could not be accommodated. National Socialist Germany was not a status quo power, but we mistook it as such, or deceived ourselves that it was’, Sharma wrote.

Hastie’s reference to Germany had been sharply condemned on Friday by Senate leader Mathias Cormann, who said it was ‘a clumsy and inappropriate analogy.’

But Hastie was verballed over his invoking of Germany. He wasn’t saying the Chinese and Nazi regimes were the same—he was talking about the underestimation of the threats they posed to other countries.

Hastie could have drawn another parallel—with the failure of countries in the 1930s to fully appreciate the looming threat from Japan.

Sharma noted that rising powers inevitably cause convulsions—‘the challenge is to accommodate a rising power if it is sufficiently status quo in nature that it can be accommodated. This was the thesis with China for much of the early 2000s’, Sharma wrote.

‘But if the rising power is revisionist in nature, and cannot be accommodated within the existing order—because it fundamentally does not accept the legitimacy of that order—then the future becomes much tougher’.

Given it was clear China’s ideological direction and ambition had become ‘far more pronounced’ under its current leadership, ‘our strategy and thinking need to reflect this shift, which is basically Hastie’s point—that we need to remove the blinkers from our eyes, recognise reality for what it is, and act accordingly’, Sharma said.

‘This does not mean we should not be pursuing a constructive and positive relationship with China—we should be. Nor does it compel us to make a “choice”. But we need to be honest with ourselves about the challenges of managing this relationship and what might lie ahead.’

Of course, Australian government policy in the past few years has been reacting to what has been seen as a heightening Chinese threat—even while the government has often been unwilling to admit as much.

The Pacific ‘step-up’ is all about China. So was the legislation, enacted by the Turnbull government, against foreign interference. The exclusion of Huawei from the 5G network was an unequivocal message. Australia’s intensified efforts to counter the cybersecurity threat have China front of mind.

The Chinese predictably reacted with annoyance to Hastie’s comments. But they are much more attuned to the actions Australia has taken and continues to take—measures which have been and are in the national interest. That’s the basic reason why Australia–China relations are strained.

The government’s trying to shut down backbench contributions to this debate is less a matter of the ‘national interest’ than an exercise of attempted control of its MPs in its own interest.

In fact, it might be counterproductive for the national interest, which may require the Australian public to acquire a much better understanding than they have now of what could be increasingly difficult times and decisions in the years to come. The Conversation

The conflicted course of Canberra’s China consensus

The comfortable Canberra consensus on how to handle China has boiled over. A set of simmering debates has become extremely hot.

Australia was long able to keep its economic relationship with China in the prosperity pot, separate from strategic and alliance interests in the pot marked power. Now there’s much heat in the kitchen.

One of our sharpest strategic thinkers, Rod Lyon, remarks on the ‘surprising degree of unanimity’ that marked the consensus in the 1990s and 2000s: ‘China’s rise offered a grand set of economic benefits to Australia at relatively low strategic risk. China was thought unlikely to disrupt the peaceful regional order that underpinned its own development. And a richer China would probably also be more politically pluralistic.’

Low strategic risk! Peaceful regional order! Oh, happy consensus.

In the 11 years to 2007 that John Howard was prime minister, his government basked in the consensus sweet spot as both pots gently simmered. Howard was able to embrace the economic riches China offered Australia, and even nod to China’s expanding ‘prerogatives’, because of his deep confidence in US might.

Howard’s description of keeping the two pots separate is ‘the great duality’, saying his foreign policy achievement was to strengthen the US alliance while building an ever-closer economic relationship with China. And ever closer it keeps getting. The China prosperity pot is huge and tasty, accounting for nearly a third of Australia’s exports and around a fifth of our imports.

Australia is described as ‘the most China-dependent country in the developed world’. That’s now discussed as a vulnerability, not the blessing that sailed Australia through the global financial crisis and the great recession without a blip.

The heat in the kitchen explains why the era when Canberra talked so optimistically of the Asian century has faded. Howard’s great duality has lost its symmetry and balance.

As the 21st century arrived, those who stir the power pot began questioning the comforts of the Canberra consensus. Chart the change through the seven defence white papers published from 1976 to 2016.

The country references always put the US in top spot (except in the post–Vietnam War 1976 white paper, when Australia was more worried about the Soviet Union and Indonesia).

References to the United States and China in Australia’s defence white papers, 1976 to 2016

  1976 1987 1994 2000 2009 2013 2016
United States 12 62 60 43 80 86 129
China 10 4 20 13 34 65 64

Through the final quarter of the 20th century, Australia’s strategists were relatively positive about China—when they bothered to consider it. In the seminal 1987 defence of Australia white paper, China got four mentions (two of them on maps).

The 2000 white paper was when Australia stepped beyond three decades of optimism to consider the possibility of clash rather than cooperation. China’s relationship with the other big players was ‘the most critical issue for the security of the Asia Pacific’. Australia began to think beyond fighting Indonesia to contemplate confrontation with China. Such planning was pushed to the back of the stove by the 9/11 decade: Australia turned its attention to jihadists and Afghanistan and Iraq.

By the 2009 white paper, though, Canberra had to confront the conflicts in the consensus. The document was a not-so-polite rendering of Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s private description of himself as ‘a brutal realist on China’.

For the first time, China got more mentions than Indonesia, taking second spot behind the US.

As Rudd later wrote: ‘The core conclusions of the 2009 Defence White Paper had been the need to recognise that China’s rapidly increasing military budget and its increased naval activity in the South China Sea represented major changes in Australia’s wider strategic circumstances.’

When Julia Gillard dethroned Rudd, she sought to recook the consensus. Her government’s 2013 Asian century white paper offered an optimistic dish. The US would stay ‘the most powerful strategic actor’ as China and India got richer, while Australia’s strategic landscape would become more crowded and complex: ‘A degree of competition is inevitable as Asia’s strategic order changes. But all countries in the region have a deep investment in stability and economic growth: the complex interdependencies and growing bilateral engagement are strong stabilising forces.’

Rudd’s PM memoirs dismiss the Asian century paper as ‘naïve’ and scorn Gillard’s 2013 defence white paper for trying to ‘gut’ his build-up of Australia’s military: ‘Instead of hard strategic logic, it chose to play Pollyanna: don’t worry, be happy, and everything will be alright in the morning.’

And, indeed, Pollyanna has departed the kitchen.

During Malcolm Turnbull’s leadership, Australia felt an icy blast from China. Turnbull described China as a ‘frenemy’ and in his major Asian speech offered a ‘dark view’ of a ‘coercive China’ seeking regional domination.

We now understand that China touches most dimensions of Australian life: security, economics and trade, social, diplomatic and political. The pragmatism that separated the prosperity pot and the power pot isn’t enough. A trade war brews on one side of the stove, matching the fear of war on the other.

China is so important in so many ways that Australia’s values are being stirred into the soup. The consensus has gone to confusion.

A new cold war will force changes in Australian behaviour

Concerns were widely expressed this week about a Chinese intelligence-gathering ship loitering off eastern Australia to spy on our biggest defence exercise. This is one of many cases where Prime Minister Scott Morrison will have to make hard decisions about when to assert Australia’s interests against a determined China promoting its own agenda.

A new cold war with China is playing out in all but name. Australia will be at the front line of much of this because we will increasingly be tested by the United States’ asking, ‘Are you with us?’, while China asks, ‘Are you against us?’

All the indications are Morrison understands that our worsening strategic situation will force Australia into an even closer military alliance with the US.

When the prime minister takes up President Donald Trump’s invitation to visit the White House, he will do so confident that the alliance relationship is strong, but with a clear understanding that more will need to be done to counter Chinese influence in the region.

In all likelihood, that will mean considering an increase in defence spending beyond the current target of 2% of GDP and doing even more to build Australia’s military presence in the region.

The old Australian strategy of trying to balance between these forces won’t work for much longer because China’s increasingly aggressive international behaviour is starkly at odds with our long-term security interests.

Three little-noticed recent developments serve to highlight a headlong slide towards a new cold war between the Chinese Communist Party’s leadership on the one hand and the rest of the Asia–Pacific and, frankly, all democracies on the other hand.

Each incident shows how Beijing positions itself for tactical advantage. Although China’s leaders often talk about the need for countries to pursue ‘win–win’ cooperation, Beijing is intent on manoeuvring to win advantage for itself at the expense of its neighbours.

As Defence Minister Linda Reynolds said in a carefully worded speech in London this week, ‘The longer we leave it unchecked, the bolder they become.’ Reynolds didn’t name China, but she didn’t need to when describing ‘countries prepared to flout the rules-based order’. These days, even a British audience understands that China presents the biggest strategic threat to global stability.

So, to the recent incidents, the latest in a long succession of deliberate Chinese actions to assert its power regionally and globally.

First, in Beijing, China’s Defence Minister Wei Fenghe hosted the ‘Fourth Forum for Senior Defense Officials from Caribbean and South Pacific Countries’. It’s difficult to comprehend how China could identify important defence interests in either location, but Wei was reported as saying that China wanted to deepen military exchanges and cooperation with Caribbean and Pacific island countries ‘under the framework of the Belt and Road Initiative’.

So much for the claim made by Beijing’s backers in Australia that the BRI is a harmless vehicle for infrastructure investment. It’s clear in Chinese strategic thinking that the BRI is a means to assert influence. Where commercial ports might cement an economic relationship, Beijing’s aspiration will be to build military ties, seeking access and engagement.

This helps to explain China’s interests in establishing a military base on Vanuatu and also why ostensibly independent Chinese businesses have pressing interests to build ports and airports in commercially unviable locations everywhere from Papua New Guinea’s Manus Island to French Polynesia in the Pacific and from the Seychelles in the Indian Ocean to Djibouti on the Horn of Africa.

China will continue looking for opportunities to establish military bases in the Pacific, which will greatly complicate Australian and American defence planning. That is precisely why the CCP wants such a facility; it’s not about delivering Wei’s confected list of cooperation in ‘anti-terrorism, peacekeeping and disaster relief’.

The second incident took place last weekend. According to the Vanuatu Daily Post, six individuals of ethnic Chinese origin were detained in Port Vila by Chinese law enforcement officials working incognito, held on the premises of a Chinese-owned company and then extradited from the country without any legal process on a chartered Chinese aircraft.

There are precedents, including in Fiji, where the Chinese state has abducted individuals who may have broken Chinese laws to face legal proceedings in China. The latest case in Vanuatu is particularly disturbing because it reportedly happened with the tacit support of some senior politicians but outside of any national legal framework.

The Vanuatu Daily Post editorialised: ‘Our development partners—who claim to stand for an international rules based order—should remind Vanuatu what those rules are … Vanuatu is not China. But today, it’s looking more like it than ever before.’

What is clear is that sovereign interests in small developing countries will do nothing to stop Beijing from acting as it wishes, often openly contemptuous of local politicians, officials and laws.

The third development happened at the beginning of July when China’s transport ministry, warning of ‘probable or imminent’ threats, raised security requirements to the highest level under the International Ship and Port Facility Security Code for Chinese ships transiting through the Strait of Malacca between Singapore and Indonesia.

The announcement surprised observers because the area has been stable, with lower levels of piracy than have been seen in years. No other country has raised threat levels for ships transiting the strait.

It’s possible the Chinese decision reflected concern about recent attacks on shipping near the Strait of Hormuz. But that’s half a world away and a different strategic story. More likely the decision to raise threat levels over the Malacca Strait is another step in China consolidating its control over the South China Sea.

In May 2018, China installed anti-ship cruise missiles and surface-to-air missiles on the three island facilities it has constructed in the South China Sea and, simultaneously with the Malacca Strait threat-level increase, Beijing held a major naval exercise in the region, firing a live anti-ship missile.

China has worked at great speed to strengthen its military hold over the South China Sea and to demonstrate its domination with exercises and frequent visits of combat aircraft. In 2012 President Xi Jinping created the ‘Central Maritime Rights Protection Leading Small Group’—the forum, personally chaired by Xi, where top CCP elites make policy for the South China Sea.

If Beijing wanted to, it could quite easily ‘close’ international access to air and sea space in the South China Sea to demonstrate its military control. What better way to do that than in response to an improbable threat assessment which claims that Chinese shipping faces unspecified threats in the nearby Strait of Malacca?

These developments are examples of what Reynolds said in London are ‘options for pursuing strategic ends just below the threshold of traditional armed conflict—what some experts like to call grey-zone tactics or hybrid warfare’.

There’s a general recognition in Canberra that, as Morrison said before the G20 meeting, ‘The balance between strategic engagement and strategic competition in the US–China relationship has shifted.’ What is perhaps tougher to publicly acknowledge is that Australia’s interests are equally affected.

The Chinese state’s policies are deliberately designed to undermine Australian interests in the Pacific while strengthening Beijing’s own hand. This is precisely the ‘zero-sum game’ Chinese diplomats accuse Washington of playing against them.

While Malcolm Turnbull took initial steps to lift Australia’s profile and presence in the Pacific islands, it’s Morrison’s decision to embrace a ‘Pacific step-up’ strategy that creates the basis for pushing back against China’s ‘we win, you lose’ approach.

An Australian military joint taskforce involving the supply ship HMAS Sirius will operate throughout the Pacific during July making port calls and ‘cementing our relationships’. Hopefully a softer Australian strategy emphasising a ‘like-minded approach’ with the island states will reduce local temptations to succumb to the attractions of well-funded Chinese engagement.

Amid the gathering strategic storm clouds, the urgent policy challenge for Australia is to apply some clear thinking to how we manage relations with China and with the United States. We are not a neutral bystander in a cold war that pits authoritarianism against the international rule of law.

First, it’s time for the federal government to prevent the states and territories and even local governments from electing to sign up to the BRI through memorandums of understanding as Victoria did last year. The BRI is designed to advance Beijing’s strategic objectives and on that basis it is incompatible with Australian interests.

Second, we should reject the calls from organisations like the think tank China Matters, which recently argued for Australia to ‘do our utmost to be an integrating force for the PRC in our region’ at the same time as claiming that ‘our interests are not always going to align with the interests of the United States’.

While that latter point may be true, it should be clear that a generation of enthusiastic attempts to make Australia economically dependent on China has done nothing to change Beijing’s strategic behaviour. Now the task is to make sure that economic dependence won’t compromise our ability to promote Australia’s national security.

It is idle to pretend as the China Matters organisation does that a new cold war isn’t playing out in the region. No one really wanted this outcome. The hope was that China would emerge as a more open and liberal-minded power as it got wealthier, but the opposite has happened. If a new cold war is our future, Australia must move quickly to stake out our position as an influential player in the region with a voice to be listened to in Washington and Beijing.

What happened to the ‘Canberra consensus’ on Australia–China relations?

Back in the 1990s and 2000s, Australian perceptions of the bilateral relationship with China were marked by a surprising degree of unanimity. Without implying that the clustering of opinion was confined to Australia’s capital city, let’s call that phenomenon the ‘Canberra consensus’. It was marked by a set of shared judgments; specifically that China’s rise offered a grand set of economic benefits to Australia at relatively low strategic risk. China was thought unlikely to disrupt the peaceful regional order that underpinned its own development. And a richer China would probably also be more politically pluralistic.

If we were to depict that consensus schematically, with economic opportunities on one axis and strategic risks on the other, it would look something like this:

A quick scan of the alternative quadrants of the schematic highlights the allure of the northwest one. It allows the bilateral relationship to live in an ideal world of high returns and low costs. And that’s been the core of the Australian relationship with China for much of the past few decades.

But in recent years the Australia–China relationship has taken on a new level of complexity. In particular, it’s been marked by a greater sense of strategic competition. China has become more assertive under President Xi Jinping. Its behaviour in the South China Sea has underlined both its growing military and paramilitary capacity and its willingness to act in defiance of the 2016 ruling of the Permanent Court of Arbitration. Attempts to buy influence among both federal and state politicians have played poorly with Australian audiences. Chinese bids for substantial pieces of Australian infrastructure have raised questions about whether their motives are entirely commercial. And the issue of cyber-espionage and hacking has maintained a steady electronic hiss as the background noise to the broader relationship.

True, the economic relationship hasn’t suffered much. Indeed, in trade terms, it remains strong, with two-way merchandise trade with China constituting 29% of our total merchandise trade. Chinese investment in Australia is down, but that’s in part the result of Canberra’s becoming more protective of its key infrastructure. The number of Chinese students in Australia remains high, even though that’s one area where Beijing could exert easy influence.

Still, as the strategic risks associated with relationship have become more complex, the traditional Canberra consensus has broken down. Schematically, fast-rising Chinese power has smeared the usual single blob in the northwest quadrant eastward across both northern quadrants. To be precise, the smear has actually been east-south-eastwards, because the sense of economic opportunities has wilted as the sense of strategic risk has grown:

It’s hard to put a specific date to the breakdown of the Canberra consensus. Certainly, when Prime Minister Tony Abbott told German Chancellor Angela Merkel in late 2014 that Australian policy towards China was driven by ‘fear and greed’, the consensus was already struggling—because its dominant fulcrum might better be described as ‘fearless greed’. Perhaps the collapse of the consensus has something to do with the perceived waning of US unipolarity—because that was the strategic environment under which fearless greed flourished.

Still, Australian opinions about the bilateral relationship have become steadily and more sharply divided in the years since. They’ve also become more atomised, sparking a series of debates over whether, and to what extent, China poses a threat to Australian strategic interests. Former prime minister Paul Keating described Australia’s security and intelligence mandarins as ‘nutters’. Former trade minister Andrew Robb criticised the Coalition’s new leaders for souring the bilateral relationship. More modestly, Peter Drysdale has urged both countries to sit down and identify their shared strategic interests—helpful, perhaps, but not in itself a recipe for the successful resolution of different strategic interests.

The broader Australian debate is now also marked by a sense of likely further downward pressure on the bilateral economic relationship. That pressure emanates from three different sources:

  • Australian action, similar to that already taken in relation to Huawei and 5G, which circumscribes particular areas of emerging trade or investment, or, more broadly, promotes active diversification of Australia’s trade and investment portfolio
  • possible attempts by China to coerce Australia economically as leverage for a different set of policy outcomes
  • and the growing trade war and broader ‘decoupling’ of the US and Chinese economies that’s already under way.

If we add those pressures to the schematic, it looks like this:

In short, we might soon have a debate spread across all four quadrants. The northwest quadrant remains attractive—but there’s no way to get back there. The Canberra consensus is gone.

It’s time for Canberra to stop kowtowing to Beijing

Managing relations with China is the most challenging foreign and security policy problem facing Prime Minister Scott Morrison and his re-elected government. It will demand a rigorous whole-of-government response coordinated by the prime minister’s department with the departments of foreign affairs, defence and home affairs, as well as domestic and overseas security agencies.

A systematic government effort is needed to neutralise Beijing’s relentless and multifaceted campaign to ‘Finlandise’ Australia by decoupling Canberra from its military alliance with the US, subverting our domestic institutions, and leaving us exposed to China’s efforts to impose its authoritarian hegemony on the Indo-Pacific region.

It’s hard to be optimistic that Australia has the courage and the national will to overcome this persistent long-term Chinese challenge to our sovereignty and democratic values. Australia has a long and consistent record of timidity and passivity in its relations with China. Our political, business, media and academic elites are deeply divided on the security issues posed by China. We’ve even allowed China to control strategically significant ports in northern Australia.

Australians concerned by China’s at times brutal behaviour in the world and its subversive activities in Australia are often accused by China appeasers of being paranoid Cold War relics who devalue the economic benefits of having China as our biggest trading partner and a huge financial contributor to educational institutes and political parties.

But their concerns arise from and are magnified by the nature of the Chinese political system: China is a one-party Leninist state under President Xi Jinping. It is increasingly and fiercely nationalistic, it is a dissatisfied power with a deep sense of historical grievance that it wants to avenge, and it has scant regard for human rights, the rule of law or the rules-based international order.

Australian governments, intimidated by Beijing’s floods of angry and threatening words in response to any questioning of its activities, overwhelmingly take refuge in craven postures: appeasement, silence, and the kowtow.

This timidity can’t be dismissed lightly. Our economic dependency on China is great; much of our prosperity and employment may be at stake. Moreover, Australia is at best a middle power with comparatively limited military assets, while China is a nuclear-armed giant with long-range missiles, aircraft carriers and increasing sea and air force projection, which it has dramatically advanced through the South China sea as it pursues its One Belt, One Road project to access Europe across the Indo-Pacific region.

These dilemmas are intensified by the unpredictability of the Trump administration. Our US ally is, for the moment, maintaining its freedom-of-navigation patrols in the South China Sea, with the Royal Australian Navy quietly trailing along behind. But President Donald Trump is a wildcard, and Canberra can’t dismiss the possibility of a US withdrawal and the prospect of being left largely alone in the contested region. That would be a daunting prospect.

No less disconcerting are China’s widely reported espionage activities against Australia internally. There seems little doubt that China is embarked on massive espionage operations against Australian government departments, business institutions and universities. They’re facing unceasing cyberattacks by hackers in China seeking access to Australian secrets. In addition, China is notorious internationally for stealing intellectual property.

Also no less disconcerting are Beijing’s aggressive efforts to use the approximately 1 million Australian-resident Chinese (some citizens, some not) to infiltrate and to subvert Australian political and educational elites in order to bring them closer to Chinese values by a combination of bribery and bullying, threats and incentives, backed and supported by its embassies and consulates in Australia. The issue has been canvassed in chilling detail by Professor Clive Hamilton in his excellent book Silent invasion: China’s influence in Australia.

For the Morrison government, Australia’s largely passive and puerile policy has passed its use-by date. China’s rise is proving far from peaceful. It is, rather, belligerent, single-mindedly aggressive, and ruthlessly pursued and coordinated globally. In some tentative ways, Canberra has signalled its concerns to China. It has excluded Huawei from tendering for the nation’s 5G network; it has embarked on a major long-term military build-up of new submarines, surface ships and the stealthy F-35 jet fighter, as well as improved intelligence and surveillance platforms. Morrison has subtly indicated Australia’s intention to meet China’s challenge in the South Pacific, where Beijing seeks access to small, poor and often corrupt nations likely to be seduced by its dollar diplomacy.

But bolder initiatives are also required. Here’s a rough initial guide to what now seems needed to protect Australia and to create more balanced and mutually respectful Australia–China relations.

  1. Work to preserve the US alliance and to encourage US power projection into the Pacific, undeterred by Trump’s professions of his ‘great relationship’ with Xi. Strengthen links and cooperation with regional democracies, including India, Japan and South Korea.
  2. Task Australia’s anti-cyber-espionage institutions to respond in kind to Chinese hacking until Beijing stops attacking Australia.
  3. Task domestic and foreign security organisations to monitor Chinese penetration of Australian political, commercial, academic and social institutions.
  4. Actively prosecute acts of espionage committed in Australia by residents found to be acting as covert agents for foreign powers.
  5. Pursue new markets for coal, iron ore, tourism and education products to reduce the economic dependence that gives China its leverage over Australia.
  6. Actively dissuade Australian political, academic and media leaders from accepting financially alluring Chinese benefits that compromise their integrity.
  7. Maintain and build international and regional diplomatic pressure to preserve the international rules-based order, human rights and the rule of law.
  8. Don’t allow China to penetrate the research work of Australian universities in areas of potential national security significance. Close down Confucius Institutes in Australian universities.