In a recent speech, a former colleague observed that our strategic environment was more uncertain than at any time since 1945.

The uncertainties included the United States’ approach to its global role, the more so since the advent of Trump; the political and strategic settling point of China; and the risks facing the broader Asian growth trajectory as Asian polities sought to address structural economic challenges. These uncertainties were only the beginning of his list.

When I enquired about prescriptions for these uncertainties, we laughed because of the absurdity of prescribing for the unknown.

A question arises whether the debate on our role in the world—which will be reflected in the forthcoming DFAT white paper on foreign policy—risks raising expectations about a road map we will be unable to fulfill. Foreign policy as practiced by small or medium powers tends to be more about reaction than initiation. But here are a few thoughts.

The first is the most important. The time has come to develop a national mindset in which our international environment is as much a priority as other major government sectors such as the economy, health or education. Of course a new mindset cant in itself provide solutions to problems which have yet to arise. But when they do we will be better able to confront them.

Since World War Two, the most obvious starting point for an independent Australian foreign policy, we have been effective in our international trade diplomacy, and workmanlike in establishing relationships in Asia. We have got through our security policy challenges with the Indochina wars, with Indonesia and with our extra regional ventures in the Middle East.

But because of the reassuring comfort of our partnership with the Americans, external policy has only occasionally been a national priority and when it has, not a sustained one. We have been lazy about addressing our place in the world.

We are entering a new epoch. Australians realize this with an intuitive sense that we must adapt to shifting circumstances. These include the rise of China and other changes in Asia, the immediacy of terror, and a growing realization that the relative power of the US is diminishing.  And now there is Trump. His election has shown that America is no longer quite the same, sometimes aggressive and unpredictable, but nevertheless on our side and with values similar to our own.

When we have had to, Australia has responded effectively to change: WW2 itself and postwar reconstruction; the shift to Asian markets when Britain entered the EU; and the economic restructuring of the eighties.

These responses were not the result of one set of decisions, but of a steady evolution in thinking and a series of incremental shifts. They flowed from a bipartisan perspective and a preparedness to engage with the electorate on the merits of that perspective. We now have to adopt that process in thinking about our external environment. Whether we succeed will depend much on the good sense and persuasive abilities of the political class and its capacity to show sustained leadership. It will also depend on more resources being devoted to effective diplomacy.

The second concept derives from the first. As US House Speaker Tip O’Neill famously said: ‘all politics are local’. However, effective management by the government of our long term interests must not be held hostage to short term domestic considerations. For example, our halt on cattle exports to Indonesia in 2011.

Third, a continued powerful US role in the Asia Pacific is an essential feature of our strategic landscape and ANZUS is crucial to that presence. ANZUS is not, however, a shrine to which an obligatory genuflection is always required. It is only one of several foreign policy priorities.

This leads to the fourth point: the tension between our economic interests with China and our security relationship with the US. In different ways all countries in the region, including Japan and Korea, confront the same issue. It wont be overcome in the medium term. It will just have to be managed, requiring effective consultation within our own community and amongst countries faced with the same challenge.

Fifth, we should accept that the political energy we direct to the US is disproportionately high compared to that which we direct to Asia. But here we risk glibness. The strength of our relationship with much of Asia derives in part from our links with the US. And when we advocate doing more with Asia, we must think of what ‘more’ consists of. Over the years, some of our neighbours have complained of a surfeit of Australian initiatives.

Sixth, while there may be a few grounds for reassurance that under Trump the US will manage some security issues, eg. with China, with more sobriety than had been feared, we cannot be sanguine that Washington will be measured in its approach to the global trade order. We must work with others to temper the Administration’s stated objectives here.

Finally, we must observe the rules of being a middle power. These include avoiding strategic overreach—a lesson we should have learnt after 15 years’ military activity in the Middle East—as well as a clear understanding that the liberal international order and norms with which it has been associated help countries like us. We need to preserve them.

Passport cancellations are one of the few tangible and public measures of how Australia’s going in the fight against terrorism. ASIO made the latest number of passport cancellations public last week, when it tabled its Annual Report to Parliament.

The report states that 62 Australian passports were cancelled over the past 12 months to prevent Australians from travelling overseas to engage in terrorism. That figure is down one third from a peak of 93 cancellations last year—which coincided with the rise of the so-called ‘Islamic State’ or Daesh and its call for foreign fighters—and is back to the 2013-14 level, when 45 passports were cancelled. Numbers haven’t yet dropped down to pre-Daesh single-digit levels.

So while Daesh and other Islamist groups are still attracting foreign fighters, the numbers seeking to travel have waned with the fortunes of those groups. The ASIO report tells us that the decline in cancellations is because fewer Australians are seeking to travel to fight in the Middle East. But there’s still a relatively high number of cases, demanding a lot from Australia’s counterterrorism resources.

Passport cancellations remain a complex and sometimes confusing issue. One of the most prominent cases is Oliver Bridgeman, whose passport was cancelled in February while he was in Syria, soon followed by the issue of a warrant for his arrest. After six months silence—including speculation he’d been killed—Bridgeman’s lawyer says he’s alive and still overseas.

Bridgeman and his family say it’s all a misunderstanding: he’s just a healthy, happy, young surfer and school-leaver working for a children’s charity in Syria, and the government’s actions have left him stranded in a war zone.

Bridgeman provides a useful case study on Australia’s passport cancellations, how and why these can be used, and what happens after.

So here are 10 things you need to know about passport cancellation.

1. Only the Minister for Foreign Affairs can find someone ineligible to hold an Australian passport. Cancelling a passport is a big deal—as befits an action to deprive an individual of freedom of movement—and is out of the hands of individual government agencies and appointments.
2. The recommendation must come from a ‘competent authority’— a government entity with appropriate expertise to make the judgement behind the recommendation. In the case of Bridgeman and many others whose passports have been cancelled on terrorism grounds, the judgement was in the form of an ASIO security assessment made by ASIO’s Director-General.
3. The security assessment is the overall judgement. The Bridgeman family’s lawyer has challenged the information in the security assessment. But the advice to Bridgeman isn’t required to include all the supporting detail—including classified information—used to make the assessment or the Minister’s decision. That has sometimes proven contentious and has been subject to review and legal judgement—including in the High Court—but found to be appropriate.
4. The cancellation can be based on anticipated future behaviour. A passport cancellation may be preventative. The test in the Australian Passports Act 2005 is ‘suspects on reasonable grounds’ that the person would be ‘likely to engage in conduct’ contrary to security, or might breach Australian law. That’s different from a criminal charge, since no crime need be committed. In addition to protecting Australia’s interests, this measure also helps uphold Australia’s international obligations, such as not exporting terrorism.
5. Until recently, security-related passport cancellations were rare. The conflict in Syria has attracted a higher proportion of Australians per capita than any other country. Before Syria, passport cancellations were few: seven in 2011-12 and 18 in 2012-13, according to ASIO. In August, Minister Assisting the Prime Minister for Counter-Terrorism Michael Keenan said there had been more than 180 since the Syrian conflict began—including around 50 offshore like Bridgeman—with more every week.  
6. It can be appealed. Bridgeman’s family have lodged an appeal to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal for a merits review. A request could also be made to the Federal Court (and High Court of Australia) for judicial review of the decision.
7. Government authorities are constrained in talking about individual cases due to privacy, legal process and protecting classified information. With the appeal process underway through the AAT, along with the separate criminal case, it’s unlikely that authorities will provide commentary outside the legal process.
8. Citizens retain a right of return. That’s possible without a passport. In Bridgeman’s case, he could return to Australia under a temporary travel document. But having travelled to a conflict zone—and possibly into a declared area—there are security and safety issues at play should he attempt to leave or for any Australian consular staff to contact him.
9. Arrest warrants are different and have their own high threshold. An arrest warrant results from evidence acquired through criminal investigation. To have an arrest warrant issued, the AFP must have a brief of evidence that’s deemed sufficient to lay criminal charges by both the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) and the issuing magistrate. Should Bridgeman return to Australia and face prosecution, we would then have the opportunity to see this play out in court.
10. It doesn’t necessarily remove the threat. Passport cancellations appear to be an effective inhibitor of terrorism. For those remaining in Australia, in particular, community and professional support may assist a move away from violent extremism. But being denied the ability to leave Australia on their own passport might also encourage a want-to-be foreign fighter to use someone else’s passport, as with Khaled Sharrouf, or refocus their activities back to Australia, as may be the case with Numan Haider. Earlier this year ASIO advised that around 200 Australians were actively supporting Islamic State from home.

In the Bridgeman case, we know that ASIO and the AFP have investigated his actions and associations and consider that they separately meet the threshold for passport cancellation and arrest on terrorism grounds. The Foreign Minister, the DPP and a magistrate agree. All of that remains subject to due process, and the protection of rights under the law. And that makes all such decisions tricky—the application of the law is relatively straightforward when a crime is committed, but anticipatory and protective measures have a different threshold and host of complicating factors.

Part of the Canberra fun is to ponder the public mysteries.

Something big happens in full view, centre stage, with all the lights up and every key moment revealed. After the crescendo, as the scenery is struck and the caravan moves on, the head-shaking conclusion is puzzlement: What was that? Why did that happen?

Tony Abbott is a great mystery moment. A prime minister is elected with a thumping majority. The logic of Oz electoral history proclaims a government set for at least three terms. Instead of a decade, Abbott is gone in two years! What??

Last week I helped prod the cadaver of another Canberra mystery. For wonks, aidies and foreign affairs tragics this is a puzzler: How did Australia go from aiming to be a Development Aid Superpower in 2010 to become a Superwimp?

I pondered the power-to-wimp quandary first at the Australian Institute for International Affairs, discussing draft chapters for the 12th book in the AIIA series (starting at 1950) on Australia in World Affairs. One chapter in the next volume will be on the Aid puzzle.

Then, serendipitously yet separately, I sat down to talk to an intellectual explorer from the Australian National University writing a PhD on the power-to-wimp phenomenon. What follows are my thoughts on the mystery—all bystanders are blameless.

First, some credits for this frame. As Australia gushed gold into aid not so long ago, Ben Reilly conjured the image of Oz as Aid Superpower. Ben commented in 2012, the Australian voter was entitled to be confused:

‘Over the course of a decade, with almost no public debate, Australia has apparently transformed its international priorities, becoming an aid powerhouse, a foreign affairs lightweight and—if current spending levels are maintained—a military minnow.’

Mark that the most brief of sliding door moments. My formulation at the AIIA was we’d gone from superpower to wimpout. Ramesh Thakur instantly sharpened this to superwimp. Always steal from the best and make it your own!

Now let’s look at What Happened? before we get to Why?

In 2005, Australia was noodling along spending $2 billion a year on aid, most of it in the South Pacific. The Indian Ocean tsunami and the deployment to Solomon Islands had caused cash surges, but essentially aid ticked over on a slow-growth drip. That year John Howard went to the UN Summit. Channelling Millennium-ism, the Prime Minister announced aid would double to $4 billion by 2010.

When Kevin Rudd became Labor leader, he pushed harder, committing to spend 0.5% of Gross National Income on aid.

At the 2010 election, what I dubbed the ‘new golden consensus on aid’ was embraced by the Labor government and Liberal opposition. In the Press Club foreign affairs election debate, it was striking how the Millennium Development Goals were part of the opening statements of the minister, Stephen Smith, and shadow minister, Julie Bishop. Both underlined their promise to lift spending to reach 0.5% of GNI by 2015-16. Golden consensus gushed gold.

They’d broken a key political rule: commit to a figure or a date, but never both. Nominating the cash/percentage target and the deadline date created a hard-to-fudge pledge. And they’d set a goal just five years away. The aidies became a special and protected species in the Canberra jungle.

To hit the 0.5% figure, budget forward estimates redoubled aid to $8 billion by 2015-16. Assuming the golden consensus kept glowing and economic growth hummed, aid would reach towards $10 billion by 2020. Annual aid spending would be heading towards a third of what went to Defence.

It was all there in the forward estimates. I mused in 2010 about the creation of a Minister for Aid and Development, even hypothesising that this big, rich spending beast could migrate from Foreign Affairs to the Prime Minister’s Department. The superpower aid department would gravitate towards the centre of power.

Then, in a matter of mere policy moments, the wimpout. Julia Gillard started slicing at the golden consensus; Tony Abbott smashed it. True to the Abbott view that those running policies he dismantled should share the punishment, AusAID was swallowed by DFAT.

So from AusAID to WasAID.

Now the mystery question: Why?

Coming from completely different places, Howard and Rudd created the golden consensus.

In 2005, Howard was in a supremely happy place after nearly a decade in power. Australia had sailed through the Asian financial crisis and the US dotcom crash. The mining boom delivered the greatest terms of trade dividend ever. The government paid off all debt. On 21 April, 2006, the Treasurer proclaimed Australia to be Debt Free.

To rework a Dire Straits song, Australia’s leaders had money for nothing and kicks for free. Howard hit the aid accelerator then Rudd bolted on the supercharger.

The flaw in the golden consensus was that it was broad but shallow. Doubt the strength of political harmony that hasn’t been argued into existence and fought to a draw. No conflict means no true settlement. The polity hadn’t thought what an Oz aid superpower would mean and quickly decided not to spend the money to reach this unimagined place.

Labor accuses Abbott of destroying the aid consensus. Don’t believe it. The tacit consensus is to noodle along at $4 billion annually (thanks, John Howard). The new consensus resembles the previous model—in place of debate, again there’s ellipsis…

The new consensus serves political self-interest and it’s cheaper being a superwimp.

As a previous generation of Oz politicians promised to spend 0.7% of GDP on aid, so this generation will make 0.5% of GNI a long term pledge: the term will be mentioned, the pledge will be embraced, and it will be long off.

A recently released Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade evaluation details some successes but also highlights shortcomings in Australia’s humanitarian response to the Syrian crisis. While Australia was an early-responder to events in Syria, overall Australia’s response has been characterised by a lack of effective planning and unpredictability in the availability of aid funding. As the conflict enters its fifth year, Australia has provided 14 separate partners with relatively small amounts of funding across 54 allocations at varying times. This means Australia’s aid partners haven’t had any certainty on when, what and how much they expect to receive from Australia in funding, compromising their impact in the field.

Additionally, the amount Australia has provided in humanitarian aid to Syria from mid-2014 to mid-2015 has dropped from $53.7 million to less than $8.8 million and there has been no documented strategy on how or why certain programs were funded. As humanitarian requirements in Syria grow and change due to the complex and ongoing nature of the crisis, DFAT’s lack of a documented strategy regarding the $130 million already spent not only affects the ability of our humanitarian partners to deliver effective programs, but also raises questions regarding the value for money the DFAT aid delivers.

Aid as a counter-terrorism measure.

A concern for Australia, as well as many other donor countries, has been the threat posed by foreign fighters returning from the Syrian conflict or homegrown terror attacks inspired by the likes of ISIS. Given that many Western countries are now directly involved in military action against ISIS, an increasing number of foreign fighters may view their circumstances through the prism of a global war. This places countries in the military coalition—such as Australia—at greater risk of blowback.

Counter-terrorism research increasingly shows that punitive measures alone are ineffective in tackling terrorism and that they must be combined with non-coercive programs. A recently published policy paper by the Brookings Institute suggests that rather than over-relying on punitive measures to combat terrorism, increasing funding and involvement in humanitarian programs that aim to help people affected by the conflict in Syria has the potential to de-radicalise a significant portion of foreign fighters who were originally motivated not by violence, but by a genuine desire to defend the Syrian people against the brutality of the Assad regime. Older research by AidData also suggests that foreign aid has the ability to decrease incidents of terrorism especially when the funding is targeted towards sectors such as education, health, civil society and conflict prevention.

Recent changes to federal counter-terrorism legislation are insufficient in themselves to deter Australians from fighting in Syria or preventing attacks at home. A more nuanced approach that couples appropriate domestic legislation with a clear humanitarian strategy for Syria, which focuses both on immediate humanitarian requirements as well as medium to longer-term community resilience and development is necessary for counter-terrorism measures to be more effective. Resilience and development projects could include civil society development and increasing the rule of law within liberated Syrian communities, providing children with access to education as a normalising measure and an increased focus on livelihoods and creating economic opportunities in refugee populations.

 Value for money of Australia’s humanitarian spend on Syria.

In 2015, the UN has requested a staggering US$8.4 billion to help 18 million people within Syria and the immediate region. This is the largest humanitarian appeal in UN history. While the primary objective of humanitarian spending remains to help people in need and alleviate suffering, both donor countries and the taxpayers that contribute to government coffers have a right to expect oversight and value for money from the programs they fund.

The recent Federal budget announced a further $1 billion in aid cuts in 2015/16. The budget also confirms an additional $2.7 billion of cuts in 2016/17 and 2017/18. Funding to the Middle East and North Africa region, including Syria, has been one of the hardest hit, again halving from $8.8 million in 2014/2015 to a projected $4.2 million in 2015/2016. By 2016/17, Australia’s total international humanitarian assistance as a share of Gross National Income will fall to 0.22% – the lowest in recorded history.

The shortage of allocated funds is a concern considering the scale and impact of the crisis. However, if the trend continues, value for money would be better achieved if Australia developed a clear strategic plan for its humanitarian spending that addressed short, medium and long term concerns in tandem. Such a plan needs to remain agile, but could include consolidating the number of humanitarian partners DFAT uses in the region focussing on fewer partners who have a long-standing presence and well-established capacity in the region. This would reduce transaction costs and optimise the money being spent. Additionally, specific levels of funding could be provided at regular intervals to partners to help augment more reliable and dependable program delivery while still allowing DFAT the capacity to contribute emergency top-ups if an incident, such as a winter storm or an increase in violence in a certain area, occurs.

Developing a clear humanitarian strategy for Syria.

Considering the widening gap between Australia’s funding commitment and the obvious need, there’s an increasing imperative for DFAT to develop a clear and more targeted strategy for Syria. This is not only a humanitarian imperative given the extent of the crisis, but will also better serve Australia’s own domestic counter-terrorism policy interests and offer greater value for money for the Australian taxpayer.

To write of bureaucratic culture is to venture into fog and quicksand and risk returning with mud and mush. Yet in understanding a power town like Canberra, culture offers answers not delivered by legal tomes or political theory. So this post is about culture—a nebulous element that can be decisive.

The previous column saw the integration of AusAID into the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade as the greatest revolution in Australia’s foreign policy bureaucracy since 1987.

A later column will look at what Australia has lost and gained as DFAT swallowed AusAID (and it will be a discussion of capacity and culture, not just aid dollars). To set that up, consider the cultural revolution—the ‘integration’ of aidies with the diplomatic pinstripes. Read more