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Australia and UN peacekeeping at 70: proud history, uncertain future

14 September 2017

Earlier today, the Australian peacekeeping memorial on ANZAC parade in Canberra was formally dedicated by the Governor-General, in a ceremony commemorating 70 years of Australian engagement in peacekeeping. The memorial is long overdue: Australian military, police and civilian personnel have served in dozens of peacekeeping missions since military observers first deployed to the Dutch East Indies in 1947. Australia has a long and proud history of supporting peacekeeping, so it’s a welcome move to see that recognised with a dedicated memorial. But it also prompts some questions about the future direction of Australia’s engagement, particularly in UN peacekeeping operations.

As part of the activities taking place during peacekeeping week here in Australia, the UN Association of Australia will be hosting a national conference examining what’s next for Australia’s UN peacekeeping engagement. It’s a critical question. Australia was frequently ranked among the top ten military and police contributors in the early 2000’s during the height of our engagement in Timor-Leste.

Today those historic levels of engagement are a distant memory for Australian government officials and politicians. At present, Australia falls outside the top 80 countries contributing troops and police to UN peacekeeping, with around 32 personnel deployed to missions in the Middle East and South Sudan. Only three G20 countries currently deploy fewer UN peacekeepers than Australia—Japan, Mexico and Saudi Arabia (which makes no contribution).

Despite the commitment to the rules-based global order in the 2016 Defence White Paper, there’s no concerted effort underway within government to consider Australia’s future in UN peacekeeping operations. As I’ve previously noted (here, here and here), Australia’s ability to influence, understand and retain institutional knowledge about UN peacekeeping is diminishing. That’s a worrying development, considering that Australia may need to support or lead the standing-up of a UN mission in our region again in the near future.

Take the example of senior leadership positions. Australians have previously held a range of command positions in UN missions, including as force commander of the mission in Cambodia, as well as senior posts such as the UN Military Adviser in the Department of Peacekeeping Operations. Yet there are no currently-deployed personnel above the rank of colonel in senior leadership positions in UN peacekeeping missions or at headquarters in New York. That’s a reflection, in part, of Australia’s current low levels of engagement across UN peacekeeping missions. The lower down a country is on the list of major troop and police contributors, the less political sway it has in securing senior leadership posts (unless, of course, it’s a P5 member of the Security Council).

However, even in cases when Australia is asked to nominate for senior leadership posts, there’s often limited interest in doing so. It can also be a challenge to identify candidates with the requisite experience serving in UN peacekeeping operations, as the pool of ADF personnel who have served in UN missions has declined significantly in the past decade. That means Australia is at a disadvantage compared with other countries when it comes to nominating for and securing the senior leadership posts that provide valuable command experience and insight into the limitations of UN peacekeeping, as well as prestige and influence.

There’s also a disconnect between Australia’s policy engagement (‘what we say’) and our deployments (‘what we do’). On one hand, Australia’s commitment to deploy a military gender adviser to UNMISS reflects the government’s high-level engagement on women, peace and security. That’s a welcome move, but it’s a vastly different story when it comes to the role of police in peacekeeping. The withdrawal of AFP officers from the UN Peacekeeping Force in Cyprus in June this year means that, for the first time in 50 years, Australia has no police peacekeepers deployed on UN missions. That’s despite Australia’s role in championing policing when on the UN Security Council in 2014, which resulted in the adoption of resolution 2185—the first ever resolution focused on policing issues. Regardless, Australia is no longer represented among the nearly 12,000 police peacekeepers deployed on current UN missions.

The Canadian Government will host the next annual peacekeeping ministerial meeting in Vancouver on 14-15 November. Countries have been invited to consider making ‘smart pledges’ that address new or emerging capability requirements in UN peacekeeping, in partnership with other countries. Partnerships provide Australia with an opportunity to enhance our engagement in peacekeeping, without the overheads of deploying a raft of capabilities. They can also provide a vehicle to enhance and strengthen bilateral relationships. That might include identifying opportunities for ADF personnel to serve as part of larger contingents with key partner countries.

The growing security relationship with France offers enormous potential in this regard. Similarly, partnerships—such as the one that Australia recently had with Japan in South Sudan—can further cooperation and develop operational experience with regional partners. UN peacekeeping therefore not only serves Australia’s interests in supporting the rules-based global order, but can also serve to strengthen Australia’s evolving defence relationships.

It’s important that we reflect and commemorate the important sacrifices that have been made by Australians serving on UN peacekeeping operations in the past 70 years. But we should also take the time to consider how we build on that vital legacy.

The pathways to cultural change in Defence: maintaining momentum

29 May 2017

Image courtesy of the Department of Defence.

Just over five years ago, Pathway to change: evolving Defence culture, a five-year plan highlighting areas requiring cultural change within Defence, was released. This strategy aimed to address cultural issues that had been recognised as needing reform; notably, one area was the inclusion of women in the ADF. With the five-year implementation timeframe having concluded in April, it’s important that we reflect on what progress has been made and ask ‘Where to next?’.

The Pathway to change plan was led by the Department of Defence and was an analysis of its own cultural strengths and areas for improvement. Part of this involved looking at the attitudes and treatment of women in Defence (both in the APS and in the forces) and how to improve the future recruitment, retention and inclusion of women in decision-making bodies within the organisation.

Pathways to change found that ‘noticeable gaps remain in the representation of women across senior leadership positions’ and made a commitment ‘to address the inclusion of women in decision-making bodies’. Five years later, we can see that some progress has been made. Defence’s Head People Capability, Rear Admiral Brett Wolski, recently confirmed to the Joint Standing Committee on Foreign Affairs, Defence and Trade (JSCFDT) that ‘there are 70 senior offices that are female, which is growing slowly. Over the last 12 months, we have increased that number by between five and 10.’ A quick search through Defence’s own website reveals that, of its own ‘senior leaders’ in service and APS roles, there’s one female in the group of 16. Further, the Women in the ADF annual report 2015–16 indicates that the number of women in key Defence decision-making bodies increased by only three in the past three years. These numbers make the case that, while some progress has been made, more still needs to be done to ensure that women are adequately represented in senior positions and appointed to decision-making bodies.

Of course, boosting the overall number of women within Defence is critical to ensuring that we get the next generation of women leaders coming through the pipeline. Recent figures on the female participation rate in the ADF have risen to 16.1%, up from 15.4% in 2015. The Navy has increased from 18.9% to 19.7%, the Army from 12% to 12.6% and the Air Force from 18.8% to 19.9%. It’s critical that work continues on building these numbers and retaining women so they can progress through the ranks to senior roles.

Addressing structural barriers for women within the ADF is critical to improving retention and increasing the number of women in senior roles, and that includes exploring flexible working arrangements. Vice Admiral Tim Barrett acknowledged the barriers during the JSCFDT, including ‘issues around the ability to manage life balance with what we demand in activities. That is where a lot of work is being done to look at flexible workplace arrangements. It will be a continual challenge for us.’ Addressing issues such as flexible working arrangements is important to retaining women in the ADF and ensuring that there are women who are available to fill senior roles.

In line with the aim set out in Pathway to change is the progress that has been made on the removal of gender restrictions on the remaining ADF combat role employment categories from which women were previously excluded. This has been a significant achievement for the ADF. This plan, first introduced in 2011, has since come to fruition—an acknowledgment that no door will be closed to those women who can meet the challenge. We have learned that, while these numbers are small, they are gradually growing. For the first time, women are now training to become clearance divers and fast jet pilots—roles that were once open only to men.

Continuing and increasing momentum to recruit, retain and include women in all areas of defence is about much more than promoting equity in our defence forces: it is critical to our capability. The 2016 Defence White Paper acknowledged both the underrepresentation of women and the importance of the skills and capabilities that they have to offer. We know that diversity on corporate boards has proven to lend itself to better decision-making, and it’s no different in Defence. Women in Defence are already playing an essential role by providing a gender perspective that helps to improve the planning and execution of ADF operations. This is especially the case for our operations in Afghanistan, where working with local women on the ground was critical to the ADF being able to operate effectively, or in the ADF’s response to tropical cyclone Winston in Fiji, where local disaster relief focused on women and children who were particularly vulnerable.

While evidence suggests that participation and roles for women in the ADF are slowly increasing, including now in combat roles, the Pathway to change five-year time frame is coming to an end, but the momentum and effort should not. There’s a need for the government to maintain the momentum, provide a vision for what’s next for women in the ADF, and show how we can continue to attract and retain women in Defence. This is critical to our defence capability into the future.

Australia’s guarantee to the South Pacific

5 March 2017

Edited image courtesy of the Department of Defence.

Over five decades, Australia has expanded its defence and security guarantee to stretch from Timor-Leste through Papua New Guinea to all of the South Pacific.

Today Australia offers its strategic weight, proximity and resources to be the South Pacific’s ‘principal security partner’. At key moments—in Bougainville, Timor and Solomon Islands—actions have followed words.

The Oz guarantee is a bipartisan consensus with deep roots in history. Coalition and Labor proclaim the peril that’d confront Oz if a hostile power got undue influence in the Islands. A constant strategic denial mindset drives policy map creep.

The first three Defence White Papers in 1976, 1987 and 1994, treated Papua New Guinea as the vital and enduring defence relationship. The rest of the region got a polite assurance of Oz readiness to help.

Public language ramped up in Gareth Evans’ 1989 statement on Regional Security discussing Australia’s ‘disproportionately large’ military power in the South Pacific. That was Gareth’s Brezhnev Doctrine moment, with the statement proclaiming, ‘we would not want, and could not implement, an Antipodean Brezhnev Doctrine for the South Pacific, in which we were the arbiters of political legitimacy or moral acceptability’.

The disavowal of intent, of course, implies the capacity to act, and Gareth set out the ‘unusual and extreme circumstances’ for Australia to use force: unfriendly Island government acting against Oz nationals; direct threat to major interests; finite timeline and clear objective; and ‘if possible the cooperation and participation of other states in the region’.

Then came John Howard’s government which built security guarantees reaching beyond PNG to the rest of Melanesia and East Timor. The 1997 Strategic Policy declared Australia was capable of ‘exerting considerable influence’ in the South Pacific and would maintain its position as the ‘strongest strategic presence in this region’.

Interests in PNG were ‘especially compelling’:Australia ‘would be prepared to commit forces to resist external aggression against PNG’. The PNG promise was relevant to ‘defence relationships and objectives in the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu and, with less force, to other more distant Pacific Island countries.’

Having elevated Solomons and Vanuatu to share a treaty pledge with PNG, the ’97 policy promised ‘substantial support’ to the rest of the South Pacific to deal with external threats, civil disruption or breakdown of law and order. Then came a classic statement of the Oz strategic denial instinct. Australia’s approach to the security of all South Pacific nations ‘recognised that ‘any attack on them – or penetration by a potentially hostile power – would be serious for our security and that, as with PNG, we would very likely provide substantial support in the unlikely event that any of them faced aggression from outside the region’.

The 2000 White Paper repeated the intention to be the region’s key strategic player: ‘Australian interests in a stable and secure Southwest Pacific are matched by significant responsibilities as leader and regional power.’

The 2009 and 2013 white papers toned down the language if not the intent. The 2013 paper boasted of Australia’s ‘central role’ in the South Pacific but cautioned that the ‘growing reach and inﬂuence of Asian nations’ introduced new external players: ‘Australia’s contribution to this region may well be balanced in the future by the support and assistance provided by other powers.’

Come the 2016 White Paper, Australia goes in harder and is more detailed about its role as strategic guarantor. It’s a striking note in an important minor key. In Southeast Asia, Australia promises to strengthen engagement and help build regional organisation, but in the South Pacific we will help governments build and strengthen security. The pledge is to ensure government and social stability, not just freedom from military threat.

The paper declares it’s ‘crucial’ that Australia help create national resilience and reduce the chances of instability – a guarantee with much more than a military flavour.

Australia has built military and security muscle: air lift, a couple of quasi aircraft carriers, the next Pacific Patrol Boat, and the Army’s growing marine-type qualities.

Since RAMSI, the Australia Federal Police has built a considerable Pacific capacity; the military might even call it an expeditionary capability. For the real threats, the AFP can be first responders. And the cops are cheaper.

So that’s what we’ve promised and what we’ve put in place. What could possibly go wrong? Lots.

Australia’s defence role in the Pacific is necessary but not sufficient. The threat of invasion isn’t front of mind for Island governments. The constant problems—governance, population, economy, environment—have military dimensions, but they’re not military problems. Australia’s security pledge can’t be secured merely by military means.

To lead, we must deliver economically and socially. Often we don’t—our leadership lacks followship.

Take the agonising, protracted PACER Plus free trade negotiations. Australia isn’t offering Pacific people anything. For Australia to act on its security guarantee, it is going to need inclusive economic and social policies as ambitious as our security guarantees.

Defence White Papers at 40

13 December 2016

While Australia, like the rest of the world, has been trying to assess the implications of the election of Donald J. Trump, we’ve missed some other events or anniversaries that would normally have drawn our attention. November marked the 40th anniversary of the first Defence White Paper, presented to Parliament in November 1976 by James (later Sir James) Killen, Defence Minister in Malcolm Fraser’s coalition government.

Today ASPI releases its latest Strategy paper in which I look at the history of Defence White Papers. It addresses questions such as: How is it that Australia managed for the first 75 years after Federation without a Defence White Paper and then produced seven in 40 years, the last three within seven years? How have the White Papers evolved over this time? What do they now achieve, and for which constituencies? Are they still a worthwhile tool for good governance, or might there be better ways of achieving their purpose that are more appropriate to the demands of the 21st century?

After looking in some detail at the circumstances in which the first two DWPs were produced and more briefly at the next five, I suggest that it’s now time to draw breath on the practice. The first two, in 1976 and 1987, arose from the perception that Australia needed a fundamental revolution in virtually every aspect of Defence policy, policy-making and organisation. They were presented by stable governments—one coalition, one Labor—who decided that, given the likely state of global geopolitics for the foreseeable future, Australia needed a new framework of strategic and capability planning, as well as a major reorganisation of the Defence organisation. Those White Papers were presented to, and debated in, Parliament, as well as being discussed widely in the media and the small but growing constituency of academic specialists in strategic and defence studies.

Since then Defence White Papers have been devalued by their frequency. Some have been updates rather than major policy statements that deserved the status of a White Paper. In every case except DWP 2000, the funding subsequently provided by governments hasn’t lived up to the expectations raised by the White Papers, creating a credibility gap. In some cases, especially DWP 1994 and DWP 2013, they have given the impression that the strategic assessment was heavily influenced by the government’s fiscal position. Too often, a major motivation for a Defence White Paper has seemed to emerge from domestic party politics or leadership tensions within the governing party, rather than from a genuine need to reassess the nation’s long-term strategy. The rapid turnover of defence ministers in the past 25 years, and of prime ministers in the past six, has reinforced that impression. Producing a Defence White Paper has sometimes been used to delay or to avoid difficult decisions, to shape a strategic outlook in the interests of domestic politics, or simply to give the impression that the government is in control of a major policy area. The presentation of the last three White Papers in orchestrated media events, rather than to parliament, has undermined the fundamental concept that a White Paper, on defence or anything else, is first and foremost a parliamentary paper intended to set out the government’s policy and to be the subject of a major parliamentary debate, as well as the focus of public discourse.

DWP 2016 has made the most comprehensive effort for many years to assess the strategic situation, to formulate the appropriate Australian defence response and to set out a capability program with a detailed funding commitment. Fulfilling this program will stretch Australian resources for many years to come. The need now is to give the new approach time. The electorate clearly wants a greater degree of bipartisanship between the major parties and an emphasis on long-term policymaking, especially on budget repair. DWP 2016 has set out a comprehensive, long-term program: those implementing it should be given time to settle in and to overcome the inevitable obstacles. The ability of two senior ministers to collaborate effectively in directing the implementation of the program will clearly be an important challenge.

Furthermore, the strategic context is both less benign and less predictable than that of the 1970s and 1980s. There have already been a number of major changes in the strategic outlook since DWP 2016 was launched. Even before the election of Donald Trump, commentators were stressing the need for nimbleness and flexibility. Now more than ever, in both defence and foreign policy, we don’t need grand sweeping statements that are likely to prove obsolete within weeks or days. What we need are more frequent statements to parliament, and references to parliamentary committees, by both the Defence and Defence Industry ministers, showing how DWP 2016, the most comprehensive and thorough Defence White Paper for many years, is being implemented and, when necessary, adjusted to meet changing circumstances.

An upgrade for the Air Warfare Destroyer—already?

14 September 2016

Image courtesy of the Navy Daily - Australian Government Department of Defence

Analysing Australian defence expenditures is like a game of Battleship. Occasionally you’ll score a hit, but attempting to understand a given acquisition often results in an ineffectual splash. A big part of the problem is the lack of official information, especially about future acquisitions. By contrast, the American system is a model of transparency and often provides more clues into Australian acquisitions than the Australian government does.

The Integrated Investment Program (IIP), released alongside the 2016 Defence White Paper, lists current and future defence projects into the 2030s. While touted as providing a new level of transparency, it lacks the detail required for robust accountability. For example, the IIP allocates AU$4-5 billion to upgrades for the AWD combat system between 2017 and 2028. It doesn’t mention what the upgrades will entail, how the cost will be spread across that 11 years, or even what enhancements are sought. My new ASPI report (PDF), released today, tries to fill in the missing details. Tellingly, most of the data in the analysis came from overseas sources.

It’s worth investigating because the IIP figure seems inexplicably high. Thanks to the Australian National Audit Office’s (ANAO) 2014 AWD audit, we know the three Aegis combat systems acquired for the AWDs cost AU$1.3 billion, less than a third of the IIP upgrade cost estimate. That’s the beginning and end of the story as far as official Australian sources go. But Aegis is a US Navy system, and the US publishes eye-watering quantities of defence acquisition data, so we can examine what the USN is doing with its Aegis equipped ships.

The USN is modernising their Arleigh Burke class destroyers, including upgrades to the Aegis combat system. Figure 1 breaks down the costs and quantities for upgrading the Arleigh Burkes’ weapon system (an element of the overall Aegis combat system), as well as installation and support costs, by year out to 2021. The same level of detail is available for all aspects of the Arleigh Burke modernisation program.

Figure 1

Table 2

Source: USN Budget FY2017 Other Procurement, Navy (BA-1)

A high level of transparency is available across the US Defense establishment; through annual budget reports published by the Navy, Air Force, Army and the Department of Defense Comptroller. The US also publishes foreign military sales approvals online, such as the approval for up to US$275 million worth of sustainment for Australia’s AWDs. And the US Government Accountability Office performs similar functions as the ANAO, and its annual Assessments of Selected Weapon Programs is a close analogue of the ANAO’s Major Project Reports.

By contrast, Australia’s annual Defence portfolio budget statement lists only the top 30 acquisition projects, along with past and planned expenses. Table 1 below reproduces data for the 2016-17 Budget’s top three acquisitions: P-8A Poseidon, F-35A Joint Strike Fighter, and Hobart class Air Warfare Destroyer (AWD).

Table 1

Source: 2016-17 Defence Budget, Table 71

The accompanying project descriptions provide some additional information, such as the number of platforms to be acquired and milestones for the next financial year. Of the AWDs, the budget says that the first of the three is planned to be delivered by the end of the financial year.

For most major Australian defence projects, that’s about all that’s disclosed. There’s no mention of over how many years the remaining budget will be spent and sparse information about when the capability will become operational.

More information can be found in the annual ANAO Major Projects Report, which examines 25 to 30 significant ongoing Defence projects. There are pages of schedules, budgets (Table 2 below), risk analyses, contract details and more on each selected project. Some projects receive a more thorough examination in focused performance audits, as was the case with the 2014 Air Warfare Destroyer audit.

Table 2

Table 2

Source: ANAO Major Projects Report 2014-15, AWD Financial Performance

ANAO reports are the richest source of information about Australian defence projects, albeit with limitations. It’s unfortunate that the best data on Defence’s projects come from an external organisation, but more transparent self-reporting wouldn’t make the ANAO superfluous. The best outcome from an accountability perspective would be more transparent self-reporting, in addition to exhaustive auditing.

You’ll have to read the new paper for the grisly details, but the summary is that Australia’s AWDs have taken longer to build than the Aegis system has taken to evolve. Current plans have the AWDs being delivered with an earlier generation Aegis system than new-build American ships, then being taken offline for an expensive upgrade less than a decade after delivery. It also has implications for force preparedness, since the RAN’s Guided Missile Frigates, which could provide stopgap capacity, will have been retired when the upgrade occurs.

But you wouldn’t know any of that from the IIP or any other official source of information. It seems that transparency in Australian defence procurement is more honoured in the breach than the observance.

DWP 2016: a Japanese perspective

4 May 2016

I’d like to make some comments about the recent Australian Defence White Paper, comparing it with some strategic documents published by the Government of Japan (GoJ). I have great respect for the effort that’s been put into the DWP. It’s a comprehensive, well-balanced, fully costed and challenging defence plan, particularly when compared with previous Australian DWPs.

I’d especially like to praise the Australian government for funding the DWP’s key goals by increasing the defence budget to 2% of GDP by 2020–21, providing an unprecedented investment in Australia’s defence capability of approximately $195 billion over a 10-year period. The GoJ increased its defence budget in fiscal year 2013—the first time it has done so in 11 years. It has continued to increase each year since, and currently sits at around ¥5 trillion (AU$600 billion)—less than 1% of Japan’s GDP. Japan’s budgetary situation is severe, with social security costs increasing by ¥1 trillion (AU$120 billion) each year due to an aging and shrinking population and massive budget deficits. As such, it’s difficult for the GoJ to drastically increase Japan’s defense budget. And it’s not clear yet whether the Abe Government will raise consumption tax from 8% to 10%—a decision that appears to be on hold until the Upper House election in June or July 2016.

In December 2013, the GoJ issued a National Security Strategy (NSS), and the National Defense Program Guidelines (NDPG), which together are almost equivalent to the DWP. The NSS sets out three ‘National Interests’:

Maintain the peace and security of Japan and ensure its survival
Achieve prosperity for Japan and its people, thereby consolidating its peace and security
Maintain and protect the international order based on universal values and rules

In contrast, the Australian government’s DWP sets out three ‘Strategic Defence Interests’:

A secure, resilient Australia with secure northern approaches and proximate sea lines of communication
A secure nearer region, encompassing maritime South East Asia and the South Pacific
A stable Indo–Pacific region and a rule-based global order

The similarities between the two sets of interests shouldn’t be surprising. They reflect the values written in the Joint Communiqué of the sixth Japan–Australia 2+2 Foreign and Defence Ministerial Consultations held late last year. The communiqué reaffirmed the existence of a ‘special strategic partnership’ between Australia and Japan ‘based on common values and strategic interests, including democracy, human rights, the rule of law, open markets and free trade’. Japan is a maritime state and largely dependent on international trade through sea routes, so securing maritime and air transits is essential for Japan, just as it is for Australia.

In terms of force structure, the GoJ’s organising principle for the Japanese Self Defense Forces (JSDF) is the ‘Dynamic Joint Defense Force’. The policy intends to make the JSDF more robust and capable of quickly implementing joint operations. So too in the DWP, the Australian government envisages a ‘more capable, agile and potent force structure’ for the ADF. Again, both governments understand each other’s positions, budgetary constraints and limitations.

Australia and Japan are both allies of the US; neither country has nuclear weapons or large scale power projection capabilities. So it’s natural for both countries to seek more effective and efficient conventional forces, as well as to move to strengthen their alliances with the US by supporting realignments of US Forces and enhancing interoperability in a trilateral setting.

As written in the DWP chapter 5 (5.59–5.63), Australia and Japan have already enhanced bilateral defence cooperation under the auspices of the 2007 Joint Declaration on Security. As for the 2015 Joint Communiqué, Ministers identified new initiatives to further enhance bilateral defence engagement. They also welcomed substantial progress in negotiating an agreement that would improve reciprocal administrative, policy and legal procedures to facilitate joint operations and exercises. Australia and Japan aren’t formal allies, but are now able to work together in a wider range of situations around the world. In an illustration of just how far our bilateral relationship has developed over the last decade, last month a submarine and two destroyers belonging to the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Forces called into Sydney Harbour for joint exercises with the RAN.

The DWP’s Integrated Investment Program and the Defence Industry Policy Statement both offer great support for Australia’s defence industry and seek to improve predictability of government procurement processes. Establishing a Centre for Defence Industry Capability is a particularly good idea. We’ve seen similar developments as Japan has adjusted to the new security environment. In April 2014 the GoJ set out the Three Principles on Transfer of Defense Equipment and Technology to guide arms sales to other countries. And in June 2014, the GoJ also issued the Strategy for Defense Production and Technological Bases with the aim of establishing long-term government–industry partnerships, strengthening international competitiveness and ensuring consistency in the effective and efficient acquisition of defense equipment. While the GoJ is progressing bureaucratic reforms for acquisitions and logistics, Australia’s efforts in that area seem to go a bit further than Japan’s. The net result is a better alignment of industry and procurement policy. Australia and Japan have signed agreements on cooperation in defence science and technology and information sharing, so it’s most likely that we’ll find more opportunities to cooperate in this area.

Japan and Australia are close partners who share similar values and interests. I believe that the degree of strategic alignment that’s evident between the DWP and the equivalent documents released by the GoJ indicates that the tightening of our security and defence relations is likely to continue apace as we face regional challenges together.

Oz Budget day: cuts, slaughter and plastic surgery

1 May 2016

‘Tis, indeed, a wonderful time to be a Defencenik in Canberra.

Tomorrow is Budget Day in the national capital. Yet Defence has nothing to fear and everything to expect.

Defence is special. The budget future is known. The plans are in. The White Paper is set. The projects have been announced.

The Government and Opposition agree—on Defence, at least.

The Liberal Party and the Labor Party and the National Party are as one.

Consensus rains dollars onto Defence. Oh, those dollars.

The dollars march in disciplined ranks way out into the future beyond the Forward Estimates, well into the next decade. And the dollars don’t just march, they multiply. Oh, how they multiply.

What could go wrong? The future is foretold. The Government and Opposition agree.

Stay, though, you whisper. If the future is so rosy, how come the headline to this piece points to cuts and slaughter? What can it mean? The headline is about history. And, of course, the future will be different.

Budget Day is usually the biggest day of the year for Canberra. Not this year. Defence has already had two bigger moments.

First, the Turnbull government released the latest Defence White Paper in February with the promise to lift Defence spending to 2% of GDP by 2020–21. Better still, our ASPI guru Mark Thomson wrote, was the table showing the specific dollar numbers for each year to 2025–26, marching in orderly columns:

‘They’ve provided an explicit table of Defence funding across the forthcoming decade (see DWP p.180). Not since the early 2000s has a government been this willing to open up its books and be held to account. It was a commendable step.’

Not just a commendable step—the dollars are marching in step. Here’s that table with all those dollars all lined up.

table

In this well-planned universe, each year on Budget Day until 2025 we will open the Budget papers and—Voila!—there should be a dollar figure for the Defence spend which closely matches the table. No suspense. No surprises.

What could be simpler? Especially as the Labor Opposition gave the White Paper a big tick and particularly embraced the spending plan that sees those dollars march out well into the next decade in expanding numbers.

Happy days.

Then last week came another happy day with the big submarine announcement in Adelaide. This also was embraced by Labor with ‘What-took-you-so-long?’ enthusiasm.

Budget Day tomorrow, then, holds no terror for Defence. The future is foretold, as are the dollars.

It’s at this moment that a snap of the fingers ends the trance. Wipe away the soothing reverie of all those parading dollars. The future doesn’t work like that, any more than the past does.

Budgets do many things, some decisively, some tentatively. One of the tentative bits is that budget projections are no more than a bid by an existing government to catch the attention of some future government.

The Budget tomorrow will be even less magnificent than most because it will be even more nakedly political than usual. This is the Turnbull government’s election manifesto.

No sooner is the budget presented than the Governor-General proclaims, ‘They’re off!’ They’ll race in the Canberra Steeplechase, a double dissolution handicap over heavy terrain all the way to the election on July 2.

To give you some perspective on a Budget that feels more like a prelude than a pronouncement, come back in time five decades to visit one of the worst horror Budgets ever visited on Defence.

Part of the pleasure of this trip is to take you to a place where Secretaries of Departments were so Permanent they were knights of the realm. Knights, moreover, who wrote wonderfully blunt memos to each other and their ministers.

It’s mid-1973 and the newly-elected Whitlam Labor government is preparing its first budget. After 23 years in opposition, Labor has big plans. To pay for them, it puts the squeeze on Defence.

Defence’s opening Budget bid was for $1.595 billion. This was right in line with the previous Coalition Government’s guidance for 1973–74 under the Five Year Defence Plan.

The Whitlam government goes to work with an axe. Allowing for some Treasury fiddles and notional bits, Defence end up well south of $1.3 billion in the Budget approved by Cabinet.

The Government is advised if it goes any deeper it’ll have to lay off troops and suspend capital projects.

The Deputy PM and Defence Minister, Lance Barnard, demands the right to address Parliament right after the Budget is presented to detail what’s being done to the military.

The Canberra buzz is that the deputy PM is preparing to declare war on his own government over the cuts to Defence.

The Secretary of Treasury, Sir Frederick Wheeler, dashes off a memo to the Secretary of the PM’s Department, Sir John Bunting, warning that Barnard could give Parliament ‘something of a horror story.’

After consulting Whitlam, the secretary of PM&C talks to the Secretary of Defence, Sir Arthur Tange. The note for file Sir John Bunting produces on that discussion is a miniature masterpiece in a specialised Canberra genre.

Here’s the entire text of that Bunting note of August 21, 1973:

‘I spoke to Sir Arthur Tange. I said by arrangement with the Prime Minister I was expressing the hope that the Defence statement following the Budget would not overdo the dismal side.

Sir Arthur said he thought my comment might have its comic side.

What the Government had handed out was a piece of slaughter but I could rest assured that he and the Minister would be using all the ingenuity at their command to present the slaughter as plastic surgery.

They were doing their best to satisfy the employees who would be affected and their unions and generally to present the statement as a positive policy of re-organisation.’

Classic.

Happy Budget Day, Defence, and many happy Budget Days to come.

Playing by the rules in Asia

27 April 2016

China’s adventurism in the South China Sea has prompted a change in Australian policymaking that merits wide international attention. In making maintenance of a “rules-based global order” a core strategic priority, Australia’s new Defence White Paper adopts language not often found at the heart of national defense charters. It is all the more surprising coming from a conservative government that is usually keen to follow the United States down any path it takes.

Australia wanted a readily defensible basis for contesting China’s claims that could not be portrayed as just another reflexive embrace of the American position. For a country trying—as are others in the region—to avoid zero-sum choices between our strategic partner, the US, and our economic partner, China, the White Paper’s words were astutely chosen and deserve emulation.

Part of the attraction of a “rules-based global order” is that it would constrain all relevant players. US policymakers, unlike those in most of the rest of the world, don’t find the concept inherently attractive. Although they—like everyone else—do pay lip service to it, willingness to be bound by international rules is not part of US officials’ DNA.

The invasion of Iraq in 2003 remains Exhibit A. But there are others, including the overreach (alongside the United Kingdom and France) of the UN Security Council’s mandate in Libya in 2011, and what Jessica Mathews has described as the ‘wasteland for multilateral commitments’ in the US approach to binding treaties, including the Convention on Biodiversity, the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty, the Protocol on Torture, and, most relevant to the South China Sea, the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).

The more immediate sting in the Australian White Paper is for China. Whatever else is going on in the South China Sea, it is not respect for a rules-based global order. Playing by the rules would imply a number of changes to Chinese behavior.

First, it would mean clearly articulating specific sovereignty claims, based on long use or occupancy of particular habitable islands, in the Paracel or Spratly groups or elsewhere. When those claims overlap with claims by other states, as most of them do, China must be prepared to resolve them, preferably by international adjudication or arbitration, which it has so far strongly resisted, or at the very least by genuine give-and-take negotiation.

Second, China would have to abandon its “nine-dash line” as a basis not only for sovereignty claims relating to land features bounded by it, but also for claims to ill-defined “historical waters” or “traditional Chinese fishing grounds.” With Chinese fishing vessels constantly intruding into what have hitherto been others’ undisputed 200-nautical-mile exclusive economic zones (EEZs) under UNCLOS, these claims are now causing real friction with countries like Indonesia.

UNCLOS—now generally accepted as customary international law even by countries that have not joined it, like the US—is the only acceptable framework for resolving these issues. Even if every one of China’s current sovereignty claims to particular habitable islands were to be accepted, the 12 nautical miles of territorial waters, and the 200 nautical miles of EEZ associated with each of them, would not begin to add up to the 80% of the South China Sea now encompassed by China’s nine-dash line.

Third, China would need to limit severely its actions relating to reefs and shoals, never previously habitable, where it has been reclaiming land and building airstrips and other installations capable of military use, and seeking to deny others’ the use of adjacent waters and airspace. International law tolerates some such building—as the Philippines, Vietnam, and Malaysia have been doing for years, though on a much smaller scale. But it does not tolerate any military use, or support more than a 500-meter “safety zone” around such installations—not a territorial sea, EEZ, “air defence identification zone,” or anything else.

Fourth, China should moderate its position that no foreign ship or aircraft may engage in surveillance or intelligence collection not only within its territorial waters, about which international law is clear, but within its entire EEZ, about which China’s argument is not at all strong. Adherence to this position sustains a constant risk of inflammatory incidents.

So long as China refuses to play by accepted international rules, others are entitled to push back, including with the fly-by or “freedom of navigation” sail-by exercises in which the US has been engaging, and which Australia and others should separately emulate. China’s insistence that it has no intention to disrupt commercial shipping or flight lanes should be believed; to do otherwise would be to cut off its nose to spite its face. But its behavior is testing the limits of regional and global understanding and patience.

The remaining attraction of making a “rules-based global order” central to Australia’s policy is the discipline this imposes on Australia itself—as it would on any state that adopts this language. To be taken seriously, we have to put our money where our mouths are, by accepting international duties and responsibilities—like helping to stop atrocity crimes in faraway places—that are consistent with our claims to good international citizenship but serve no immediate traditional national security or economic interest.

In Australia’s case, this means thinking again about some of our efforts to limit our exposure to the International Court of Justice and certain dispute-resolution mechanisms under UNCLOS. In this imperfect world, there is considerable tolerance for all sorts of imperfect behavior. But hypocrisy always catches up with you. Preaching the virtues of a rule-based order to others, but being coy about some of those rules oneself, is not a good look.

A ‘Trumpian’ world? Australia’s defence, regional security and nuclear proliferation

27 April 2016

In analysis of US Grand Strategy under a future President Trump, Rod Lyon warns about a reversal of the US rebalance to Asia, noting ‘turbulent waters lie ahead’, and echoing concerns aired by Kim Beazley and Peter Jennings.

Donald Trump has warned Japan and South Korea that they need to contribute more or see the US withdraw from the established relationships that underpin Northeast Asian security, and argues that Japan and South Korea should get nuclear weapons as part of this process of greater burden sharing. These policy positions would upend the stability and security of Asia, and generate power vacuums that would be filled by a rising China, against which Trump threatens a trade war. While Commander in Chief Trump would have to act within established Congressional checks and balances and consider advice from US Departments of State and Defense, a possible US strategic retrenchment from Asia has to be taken seriously.

In such a security environment, Japan and South Korea would face a powerful and ever more confident China, an unpredictable nuclear-armed North Korea, as well as an assertive Russia to its north, without US support. Japan would likely accelerate constitutional reform towards ‘normal defence power’ status. For the South Koreans, the withdrawal of US forces from the Korean Peninsula would generate greater risk of provocations from Pyongyang, and a commensurate greater risk of war.

Tokyo and Seoul would confront a key question: does non-nuclear deterrence work against a nuclear armed state? If the outcome of such a debate is that it doesn’t, then both states must reconsider their non-nuclear postures, or see China well placed—absent a credible US presence—to reshape Asia’s security order into a ‘Sinosphere’. The decision to go nuclear wouldn’t be a foregone conclusion, particularly for Japan, given the strong anti-nuclear sentiment in Japanese society after Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Fukushima. From Seoul’s perspective attention would be diverted from the clear, immediate threat of a nuclear-armed and unpredictable North Korea, to concerns over a nuclear-armed Japan given the deep historical animosity that clouds the relationship between Seoul and Tokyo.

Any strategic retrenchment under a President Trump creates the conditions for the 1968 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) to be undermined, perhaps fatally, whilst exacerbating regional security dilemmas, and spiking tensions on the Korean Peninsula and with China. A decision to go nuclear by Tokyo and Seoul would mean that internal debate in China over whether to discard the traditional ‘no first use’ force posture would intensify, particularly if China faced a nuclear-armed Japan. China may embrace a counterforce posture with greater numbers of MIRVed road-mobile ICBMs, and move towards a ‘launch on warning’ force posture. Chinese responses to Japan going nuclear could prompt further proliferation elsewhere, including India and Pakistan. Trump’s ‘bull in a china shop’ foreign policy thus threatens raise the prospect of proliferation cascades across Asia and beyond. Turbulent waters, indeed!

For Australia it’s not at all clear whether the US under President Trump would walk away from ANZUS. At a recent meeting between the Australian Ambassador to the US, Joe Hockey, and the Trump campaign, the message was that the US would maintain a ‘special relationship’ with Australia. However if the US under Trump did renege on long-established security alliances and walked away from extended nuclear deterrence security guarantees to Japan and South Korea, then its military commitments to Australia under the broader Australia-US alliance would be far less assured.

The 2016 Defence White Paper states that Australia’s alliance with the US ‘will continue to be the centrepiece of our defence policy. The government will continue to strengthen the alliance including by supporting the United States’ role in underpinning the stability of our region through its rebalance.’ Yet Trump’s proposed policies would reverse that rebalance, and with it, leave Australian defence policy broken.

Although the 2016 DWP doesn’t directly address the importance of Extended Nuclear Deterrence security guarantees to Australia, the 2009 White Paper makes this clear, noting

‘…that protection provides a stable and reliable sense of assurance and has over the years removed the need for Australia to consider more significant and expensive defence options.’ (6.34)

Though this implies consideration of an Australian nuclear weapons option in the absence of US extended nuclear deterrence, a range of factors would challenge the prospect that Australia could easily or quickly embrace such an option.

Certainly our defence planning assumptions would have to be reviewed, additional funding made available and new capability beyond that proposed in the DWP considered. That could include new air and naval platforms and capabilities to enable us to project greater power as part of a regional coalition than currently envisaged under the DWP. Some capabilities would be difficult to reconstitute, such as the provision of intelligence gathering, C4ISR and advanced space capabilities, and access to critical military technologies. New security relationships would need to be formulated quickly with Japan, South Korea and India, and key Southeast Asian states to counterbalance China. Finally, Australia would have to be far more discriminating in committing the ADF to operations beyond the Indo-Pacific.

Australia’s strategic outlook: the view from Indonesia

8 April 2016

Australia’s Defence White Paper comes at a challenging time in world politics. When I assumed the Indonesian Presidency in 2004, globalisation was the issue of the day—free trade, economic integration, emerging economies, global financial crisis, the G20.

But as I left office a decade later, it was geopolitics that consumed international affairs. Major powers relations, after a decade or so of relative stability, were unravelling. Territorial disputes, suspicion and tension, zero sum rivalry for access and influence, brinkmanship—all are assuming centre stage again. I believe we are stuck with this situation at least in the short to medium term.

This volatile strategic landscape provides the backdrop for the strategic outlook in the Defence White Paper. There are a number of points in the White Paper’s strategic outlook which I highlighted. The White Paper points out that by 2050, a predominant share of the world’s economic output is expected to come from the Indo-Pacific. The maintenance of peace and stability is absolutely critical to ensure the growing prosperity and the rules-based global order in the Indo-Pacific region.

Another point in the strategic outlook that I highlighted is the complex interplay, the roles and the relations between the US and China which will continue to be the most significant factor in the Indo-Pacific region towards 2035. In Australia’s view, the US will remain the preeminent global military power, and will continue to be Australia’s most important strategic partner.

The White Paper also recognises that terrorism will continue to haunt Australia at home and abroad. Instability in our immediate region could have strategic consequences for Australia. And your White Paper acknowledges new and complex non-geographic security threats in cyberspace and space. Indeed, they will be an important part of our future security environment.

In my view, these are strategic viewpoints that are shared by many countries in the region, including Indonesia. I see a world abundant with opportunity but also one that is becoming more dangerous. The interplay between geopolitics and geoeconomics will be even stronger in the 21st century. I believe that economic transformation will be the greatest force changing the lives and fortunes of billions of our citizens, creating a huge middle-class, liveable cities, expanding markets, jobs and opportunities. Getting our geostrategy right helps our common efforts to secure shared prosperity.

As Australia seeks to shape her strategic environment, the evolving partnership between Indonesia and Australia presents a good case of a trans-formed relationship that solidifies common security. To be honest, in the past, there was a lot of baggage between Jakarta and Canberra.

There was mutual distrust, and mutual discomfort in our relationship. The East Timor issue was a major source of friction. In the eyes of many Australians, Indonesia was seen as an authoritarian state with human rights problems, and a troubled country politically and economically after the fall of President Soeharto. In the eyes of many Indonesians, Australia was seen as intrusive, and harbouring negative intention on the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Indonesia.

I would say that Jakarta-Canberra relations were similar to many conflictual relations that we see among states today. But, together, we reversed that situation. We not only normalised the relationship: we elevated and transformed it.

When I came to office in 2004, changing Indonesia’s relations with Australia became my foreign policy priority. In 2005 I visited Canberra where Prime Minister, John Howard, and I signed the first Comprehensive Partnership between our countries. Not long after, we signed the Lombok Treaty, which transformed the security relationship between our countries. Indeed, our relations with Australia is among the most extensive, involving an annual Joint Ministerial meeting participated by a good line-up of Ministers covering different sectors. Indonesia rarely has this kind of relationship with a foreign country, and it is a good sign of how close we have become.

Indonesia’s defence attaché told me yesterday that since arriving in Canberra five months ago, he has been kept busy with endless engagements throughout the country with his counterparts in the Australian Defence Force. The spirit of military-to-military cooperation is very high. This is the way it should be: politicians come and go. As the relationship between our leaders and politicians have their highs and lows, the relationship between our militaries should be kept constant and cooperative. This is also true for people-to-people relations which serve as one the critical pillars for our relationship.

I am particularly pleased that, here in Canberra, when it comes to relations with Indonesia, we can count on bipartisan support. As a friend of Australia, I ask that this positive bipartisan support towards Indonesia is maintained for the long-term.

In today’s world, we are faced with a number of strategic unknowns. The unknowns include the outcome of the US elections, arguably the most consequential elections in terms of its impact on international affairs. And there are other unknowns: what will happen in the efforts to roll back ISIS; whether or not terrorism will intensify on global scale; what will happen to the migrants crisis in Europe; what will happen to US-China relations; whether Arab Spring countries will hold or fall; and how much further will China keep pushing its gains in the South China Sea.

In facing these unknowns, we always hope for the best, but we need to also prepare for the worst. Especially considering the international community seems to be frequently caught off-guard by where and when the next incidents will come.

From Australia to Indonesia, China to India, Japan to The Philippines, we see many nations undergoing simultaneous military modernizations—some more ambitious than others. I do not call it an arms race, because that’s not what it is. But what worries me is this: in general, the rise of armaments has not been coupled with the rise of strategic trust. Indeed, the rise of armaments has been marked by the reduction of strategic trust.

This is clearly evident in the South China Sea, where a solution to the overlapping disputes are still elusive. As we attempt to manage this flash point, all claimants need to constantly reaffirm their commitment to peaceful solution through consultation and dialogue, and do it in ways that adhere to international law.

They must refrain from provocative acts that would lead to conflict escalation, and do all they can to avoid miscalculations that could again destabilize the region.

The strategic deficit is also visible in the larger picture of international relations. If we take a look at major power relations, we now see many fractured parts. Between the US and Russia. Between Europe and Russia. Between China and Japan. Between South Korea and Japan. These are critically important relationships that had been in better shape before. When they go sour, world affairs becomes volatile.

For middle powers like Indonesia and Australia, it is therefore important for us to promote policies that do not perpetuate this worrying state of affairs: indeed, we can help to mitigate it. Indonesia and Australia can work together to ensure a dynamic equilibrium in the region where seismic power shifts will not lead to new conflicts, greater tension and the return to the harmful division of the Cold War era.

Just as Jakarta and Canberra seized the chance to reinvent our relationship, we can also work together, and work with other nations, to promote international peace and cooperation. I know in de-fence and security meetings we are constantly assessing threats and challenges. That is how we are trained to think. But that is only half the equation.

The other half is called : strategic opportunities. And while they are not always easy to come by, they do come around. Remember that Indonesia and Australia worked closely together to realize the G-20, instead of the competing option of a G-13. It took some late night phone calls back and forth between myself, Prime Minister Kevin Rudd, and President George W. Bush. But, Alhamdulillah, in the end, the G-20, not the G-13, became a reality, and today has become the premier forum for international economic cooperation.

That is only a small sample of what we can do for a better world. Both Jakarta and Canberra are seeing more and more of their interests converging : in economics, regional security, combating terrorism, and others.

There is plenty of space to build a stronger partnership between us. Indonesia and Australia can work together to promote a rules based world order. But rules-based does not mean preserving the status quo. We need to constantly improve our region’s architecture, where we still see criss-crossing security, economic and political structures that resemble a spaghetti bowl.

We need to ensure that the architecture can keep up with the evolving situations on the ground, and can help to increase cooperation, resolve conflicts and increase confidence and trust. I personally wish to see the IndoPacific Treaty of Amity and Cooperation come to life one day –something that I tried to promote during my term as President.

As the geostrategic chessboard moves, I must also say that it is important to maintain strategic transparency. In any situation where Australia or her allies decide to deploy larger forces, especially in the northern part of Australia, with considerable weapon system and equipments, it is critical to communicate with Indonesia and other countries. If you allow me to be candid, I remember well that the first time I heard about the decision to deploy of US marines in Darwin was when I was asked about it by reporters during an APEC Leaders meeting in Hawaii. It was a surprise to me. Eventually, things cleared up, but communication is important to avoid misunderstanding and build confidence and trust.

Our cooperation also include the efforts to deter the rise of extremism, radicalism and terrorism worldwide, especially in this digital era which provides a unique new battleground in the struggle between tolerance and hatred.

The Bali bombing of 2002 reaffirmed the compelling case that our national security are inter-related. Since then, our law enforcement officials have been working closely and effectively to deter terrorism. Both Indonesia and Australia also serve as models of open and free multi-cultural nation which respects freedom of religion, while embracing 8 tolerance and moderation. I know that muslims in Australia feel free, respected and welcomed, and this is an inspiring example to a world troubled by growing Islamophobia.

To fight radicalism and terrorism, we need a new mindset, new approach, new solution. I believe that the fight against radicalism and terrorism is connected to other parts of the puzzle. This includes advancing socio-economic progress. You see, the greatest threat to world is the fact that hundreds of millions of people are trapped in a condition of insecurity, ignorance, injustice, marginalization, which leads to helplessness, and hopelessness. In some of these areas, fertile minds can become corrupted, and become easy prey for radical manipulation.

This is why I believe we need to work together to promote Sustainable Development Goals so that more poor will graduate to middle class and become owners of a dignified life. There is a direct link, I guarantee you, between a more prosperous world and a more peaceful world that we want for our children.

In the final analysis, 2 years after leaving office, I still believe that the geopolitics of cooperation is possible. I am realistic enough to know that the affairs between countries will always involve rivalry and competition at some level, as it has been for centuries. But I am also convinced that little by little, the space for cooperation and trust and goodwill can continue to expand in world politics.

This is how Southeast Asia changed a divided region of enmity and violence, into a peaceful community of ASEAN family today. This is how the European Union expanded from 6 to 28 member states in ways which unimaginable several decades earlier. This is how the relations between the United States and Cuba evolved today, and how the relations between the western world and Iran may be changing for the better.

In short, geopolitics of cooperation is possible.