Tag Archive for: New Zealand

Nuclear deterrence needs to be discussed at ANZMIN

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Foreign Minister Penny Wong, Defence Minister Richard Marles and their Kiwi counterparts need to discuss nuclear deterrence, not just non-proliferation, when they meet in Auckland for the second 2+2 Australia-New Zealand ministerial consultations (ANZMIN) today.

The growing salience of nuclear weapons in the Indo-Pacific will force difficult choices in the coming years. Australia and New Zealand will handle these challenges differently because they have different perspectives on US extended deterrence, but the deteriorating strategic environment in the Indo-Pacific means different views shouldn’t stop the cross-Tasman neighbours discussing the issue.

Talking about nuclear deterrence is harder for Wellington because antinuclear sentiment is stronger in New Zealand than Australia. While New Zealand-United States military cooperation has picked up in recent years, Wellington is unlikely to formally recover US protection under the ANZUS treaty while it sticks to its policy—in place since the 1980s—of refusing entry to nuclear-armed or nuclear-powered vessels. That policy will also apply to the conventionally armed, nuclear-powered submarines that Australia will acquire through AUKUS.

Wellington has also narrowed its legal room for manoeuvre by ratifying the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), which prevents New Zealand claiming US nuclear protection. New Zealand also advocates for countries to join the TPNW, tapping a rich vein of antinuclear sentiment among Pacific island countries.

Canberra has greater leeway to support the US nuclear umbrella because it has not signed the TPNW, although the current Labor government favours signing in the unlikely event that Australia’s strategic circumstances become conducive to doing so.

For decades, Australian governments have minimised public debate over nuclear deterrence by keeping declarations of support for the US nuclear umbrella muted, while championing multilateral initiatives on non-proliferation and disarmament short of a nuclear ban treaty.

Successive Australian defence ministers have justified the role that facilities like Pine Gap and North West Cape play in the US nuclear umbrella as a contribution to stability and non-proliferation. And defence officials have told parliament that Australia respects the US policy of not disclosing the location of its nuclear weapons, exploiting caveats that allow US nuclear forces to pass through Australia without breaching Canberra’s legal obligations within the South Pacific Nuclear Free Zone.

But the rapidly changing strategic landscape of the Indo-Pacific is making it harder for Wellington and Canberra to maintain nuclear policies that were fixed at the tail end of the Cold War.

As China’s nuclear arsenal and superiority in regional missile forces grows, Beijing could mimic Moscow’s use of nuclear threats in pursuit of its revisionist aims, which include territorial gains, breaking up the US alliances and expelling US forces from the Western Pacific. The growing collaboration between Beijing, Moscow and Pyongyang could also facilitate nuclear coercion.

The second Trump administration is likely to expand the US nuclear arsenal to counter threats from Russia, China and North Korea. Trump may accelerate the development of a sea-launched nuclear cruise missile (SLCM-N), which could be deployed on US Navy attack submarines and perhaps some surface warships that have not carried nuclear weapons since the end of the Cold War. Trump may also consider stationing US nuclear weapons in South Korea, although this week’s brief declaration of martial law in Seoul might dampen the prospects of sharing US nuclear weapons with the South Korean military.

Trump will be clear that allies must accept risk and pay more for their defence in exchange for US protection. This will affect Canberra and Wellington differently because the US presently only recognises its obligations to Australia under the ANZUS Treaty. Even so, Trump and his team may still float ideas that are untethered to legal frameworks, such as storing nuclear weapons on Australian soil or expecting US Navy ships that might be carrying nuclear weapons to have access through New Zealand’s ports and waters.

Canberra and Wellington share a strong interest in discussing nuclear matters privately, but antinuclear sentiment and laws, especially in New Zealand, circumscribe how much can be said publicly. The inaugural ANZMIN joint statement in February this year focused on non-proliferation and arms control, overlooking nuclear deterrence, and the joint statement issued after Prime Minister Anthony Albanese met with his Kiwi counterpart Christopher Luxon in August ignored nuclear issues.

Even so, Australian and New Zealand ministers could say more together about nuclear deterrence without straying into legal grey area. For instance, they could call out Russia’s nuclear threats, China’s non-transparent nuclear build-up and the way both countries are undermining UN sanctions on North Korea. Ministers could also question how Beijing can credibly advocate internationally for no first use of nuclear weapons when China is refusing to establish hotlines for crisis management and ‘entangles’ its nuclear and conventional forces in dangerous ways. Ministers could also highlight the humanitarian consequences of nuclear testing in predominantly Muslim regions of China and the former Soviet Union, rather than focusing solely on historic testing in the Pacific region by the US, Britain and France.

Australia and New Zealand must adjust to living in a region in which nuclear weapons will play a greater role than they have in the past. To face reality, one must find the courage to talk about it.

Designing a force structure for New Zealand’s strategic circumstances

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The ANZMIN meeting of foreign and defence ministers in Auckland this week should focus on how Australia and New Zealand can modernise their alliance to deal with worsening strategic circumstances.

The Luxon government has adopted sharper language about the threat posed by China, but New Zealand lacks a comprehensive defence plan fit for its strategic circumstances, equivalent to Australia’s Defence Strategic Review and subsequent National Defence Strategy.

Wellington’s Defence Capability Plan due for publication in early 2025 is an opportunity to rectify that by laying out the force structure that the New Zealand Defence Force needs to develop over the next decade and beyond. That plan should be shaped by the Australia-NZ alliance and be based on firm methodological foundations, as laid out below.

The first priority is a clear assessment of warning time. Strategic warning time requires not only high-level intelligence analysis about future military threats; it also means bringing together assessment of threats to foreign policy, economic and trade interests, and new threats, including cyber war, artificial intelligence and new weapon systems, such as hypersonics.

The New Zealand government needs to develop a high-level national intelligence warning staff headed by an experienced senior official with both policy and intelligence experience. This person should have direct access to both the minister of defence and the minister of foreign affairs and the National Security Committee.

This brings me to what should be the chief force structure priorities for a country of New Zealand’s size and location. They are twofold: first, New Zealand’s geography and key geopolitical interests; second, what sort of military contingencies and other key national security threats could occur?

From the outset, it needs to be made clear that these two key determinants must not waste time or money on such worst-case contingencies as an invasion or direct military attack on New Zealand. This means that rigorous intellectual pressure must be brought to bear on selecting the relevant threats and contingencies.

It is fashionable to assert that geography no longer matters, because of the speed and accuracy of modern missiles. This must be a consideration. Still, New Zealand is a long way from any potential adversary, such as China, and any forces that such an adversary might send to the South Pacific would be very vulnerable to interdiction. But geography would come back into play with a vengeance if China acquired a military base in the South Pacific. This would threaten New Zealand’s and Australia’s vital sea lines of communication with the United States.

New Zealand’s broader geopolitical circumstances require close attention. In the Cold War, Australia and New Zealand were distant from the USSR’s key strategic interests. And for much of the post-Cold War period, the US has been the unchallenged unipolar power. All this is changing because of the rapid increase in China’s military power, China’s alignment with Russia, North Korea and Iran, and its leveraging of trade and aid across the broader Asia-Pacific region.

This means New Zealand needs to give higher priority to the basic security of its region. These geopolitical issues also need to be considered in determining force-structure priorities.

We must ensure that the South Pacific remains a region of peace and prosperity where all countries are able to pursue their national objectives free from external coercion. An unfavourable balance of power in the South Pacific would increase the risk of regional countries, including New Zealand, being coerced and losing their ability to pursue key interests peacefully. New Zealand and Australia must remain the partner of choice for the Pacific family, including in security cooperation. New Zealand’s Pacific Maori culture is central to its relationships in the South Pacific and provides an advantage.

New Zealand needs to maintain high-level situational awareness in the South Pacific, its primary area of strategic concern, to gain warning time and space for decision making.

As noted earlier, the assessment of credible military threats does not include worst-case military planning contingencies. There still needs to be a tough-minded professional group in the Ministry of Defence testing credible contingencies and applying them to judgements on force-structure priorities.

Maritime contingencies clearly need priority. However, there is a challenging role for New Zealand’s army in the South Pacific, perhaps in a joint New Zealand and Australia amphibious force capable of conducting demanding littoral operations in the South Pacific.

New Zealand defence experts’ determination of credible military threats needs to be rigorously consistent with tough-minded analysis of net military assessments. This is a well-known and trusted methodology of measuring a potential adversary’s military capabilities.

Such net assessments need to focus on what foreign military capabilities could realistically be used against New Zealand, and how New Zealand’s future force structure must be developed in response. The chief of the Australian Defence Force, Admiral David Johnston, tells me that Australia is already intensively using a combination of credible contingencies and net military assessments.

Incorporating the defence planning methodology recommended here would provide strategic warning to political decision-makers and ensure a robust New Zealand force structure evolved for its unique strategic circumstances.

The Luxon government must also communicate its new approach properly if it is to build the social licence required for increased defence spending, which is also essential. Australia can help with that process, including through the ministerial statements and press comments that will emerge from ANZMIN this week.

When naval capability is minimal, it’s also brittle

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It is rare for a developed nation’s navy to lose a big vessel in peacetime. The sinking of the Royal New Zealand Navy’s HMNZS Manawanui after it ran aground on a Samoan reef this month—the country’s first naval loss since World War II—has raised important questions about naval preparedness. Fortunately, all 75 crew members were rescued, a testament to the ship’s commanding officer and crew.

Although the exact cause of the incident is under investigation, it highlights broader issues about the state of readiness, not just for New Zealand but also for allied and partner navies, including Australia.

This incident underscores several concerning issues about naval preparedness: insufficient naval capability, workforce challenges, budget constraints and the failure to invest in critical enablers. Each is acutely relevant to New Zealand and Australia, highlighting key vulnerabilities.

Manawanui was the only mine warfare and hydrographic survey vessel in the New Zealand fleet, a crucial asset for a maritime nation with the fifth-largest exclusive economic zone in the world. The loss of this ship leaves a glaring gap in New Zealand’s naval capabilities.

New Zealand’s navy, like many smaller ones, has long been operating with minimal capability across several domains. Manawanui’s loss illustrates the risks inherent in this minimalist approach: when one ship is the sole platform for a critical capability, losing it—even temporarily—paralyses that mission set.

This situation should sound alarm bells in Australia as well. The country’s decision to scrap its future mine warfare ship program, alongside the expansion of its at-sea replenishment capabilities in the latest Defence Integrated Investment Program, echoes New Zealand’s dangerous underinvestment in niche but vital capabilities.

The justification for cancelling the mine warfare ship program was that autonomous systems would replace the capability. However, without a ship to deploy from, these systems cannot cover the full spectrum of operations needed to protect Australia’s shipping routes from naval mines—something it should expect in the event of a conflict in the region.

During World War II, Australian waters were heavily mined. There were minefields between Sydney and Newcastle, in the Bass Strait, off Hobart and in the Spencer Gulf.

Australia’s hydrographic capability, used for seabed surveys, is in a precarious state, with five of its six ships decommissioned in the past three years and the last likely to follow soon. The 2020 decision to outsource nearly all of the navy’s hydrographic responsibilities has severely weakened its capacity in this area.

Another issue exacerbating the challenges in enabling capabilities is the shortage of Australian replenishment vessels. Both of the Royal Australian Navy’s replenishment ships are out of action until 2025, and while the problems are reportedly being dealt with under the warranties, it raises a broader question: why does Australia have only two? The money allocated to expanding this capability was removed in the latest Defence Integrated Investment Program.

There are many examples of such underinvestment in the navy’s enabling capabilities. The failure to maintain and expand these powers now could leave the country dangerously exposed in the event of a maritime crisis. The underinvestment and lack of preparedness come at a time when Australia’s defence strategy has stopped assuming that the country will get a 10-year warning period of an emerging conflict.

Despite the Australian government’s recent Defence budget uplift in May, the funding allocation, which equates to about 2.1 percent of GDP, is simply not enough to tackle the issues.

While the figure in nominal terms might be historic, in real terms as a percentage of GDP, it is low—particularly at a time when Defence, and specifically the navy, are going through a major recapitalisation following the underinvestment since the end of the Cold War.

According to the 2024 Australian National Defence Strategy, the country is facing its most challenging strategic environment since World War II. Yet, this has not been met with equally robust investment.

During the Cold War, Australia’s defence spending averaged 2.7 percent of GDP and was even higher during periods of heightened tension or major recapitalisation.

Despite the current strategic environment and the largest defence recapitalisation in decades, defence spending is projected to reach only 2.4 percent of GDP by the end of the decade—well below the Cold War average.

Although funding has been allocated for new surface combatants and submarines, there is little left to enhance other naval capabilities, leaving many of these atrophying and compromising naval preparedness at a critical time.

This inconsistency between our strategic statements about the chances of conflict in the region and our investment is glaring—and our naval preparedness is paying the price.

The sinking of HMNZS Manawanui should be a wake-up call for Australia and New Zealand. A conflict in the Indo-Pacific region is no longer a distant hypothetical. Regional tensions are rising and our naval forces are likely to be at the forefront of any confrontation. The ability to prevail in such a conflict depends not just on major warships and submarines but also on the enabling capabilities that underpin maritime operations: replenishment, hydrography, mine warfare and other niche but vital domains.

New Zealand is waking up to threats

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While Australian defence policy looks north, Kiwis focus west.

New Zealand has always benefited from strategic isolation and the distance from international conflicts. But as global dangers increase, the reality of the geo-political situation is cutting through in New Zealand’s public discourse. With the active aggression of totalitarian powers like China and Russia causing disruption, New Zealand is waking up the threats they pose to the international order.

That’s a good thing for Australia, creating a stronger, more engaged partner to work with in the Pacific and on regional security arrangements.

Awareness of the threat that China and Russia pose has evolved in the past 10 years. In June 2022, then Labour prime minister Jacinda Ardern attended the NATO Summit, calling her participation a ‘rare thing’. She condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and said ‘China’s increasing assertiveness is resulting in geopolitical change and competition.’ This mild comment provoked the strong rebuke from Beijing that her comments were ‘unhelpful, regrettable and wrong.’ Her open criticism was a shift from a foreign policy that had been closely tied to protecting the strong trading relationship with China.

This shift continued under Chris Hipkins, who replaced Ardern as prime minister until Labour lost office in November. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade released a strategic foreign policy assessment, ‘Navigating a shifting world’, in July 2023. And Hipkins’s defence minister, Andrew Little, said ‘In 2023, we do not live in a benign strategic environment’ as he unveiled a Defence Policy Strategy Statement that achieved cross-party support.

With a three-party centre-right coalition government now in office, there is a growing recognition that New Zealand will need to spend more on defence. This is challenging due to excessive pandemic spending that has left a legacy of a bloated public service and a structural fiscal deficit. But on 10 May the government said money from cost-cutting elsewhere in the Defence budget would be recycled back into Defence rather than being subsumed by fiscal consolidation.

All parties in the new government have made positive statements about New Zealand reaching the NATO standard of spending 2 percent of gross domestic product on defence. New Zealand last achieved this level in 1992, and spending has continued to decline in recent decades. Currently sitting just above 1 percent of GDP, the fraction is significantly less than Australia’s. New Zealand’s GDP per capita is only three-quarters of Australia’s, meaning its defence spending per person is much lower.

The inaugural Australia–New Zealand Foreign and Defence Ministerial Consultations in February bought a new focus to the trans-Tasman relationship. Ministers of both countries said the meetings had taken place amid the most challenging global strategic environment in decades. They committed to increasing military integration.

The debate in New Zealand has become sharper as the country has considered joining Pillar 2 of AUKUS, the part of the Australian-British-US defence partnership that deals with technology other than nuclear submarines.

Active military collaboration for international security marks a strong shift away from the view of then Labour prime minister Helen Clark, who said in March 2001 that New Zealand was ‘very lucky to live in one of the most strategically secure environments in the world’ and that New Zealanders ‘would like other nations to experience the peace of a benign strategic environment too.’ For as long as her view dominated foreign policy circles, attention was on trade policy; there was little focus on national security or defence issues, beyond a fascination with nuclear disarmament.

Clark and her generation promoted a so-called independent foreign policy. Encouraged by the anti-American and anti-nuclear lobby, this amounted to a shift away from the Western alliance.

The more modern view in New Zealand is that, as a small country, it must help to uphold the international rules-based system and contribute to stability and security efforts. New Zealand has engaged with Asian-centred regional collaborative security frameworks.

More spending is needed. The government will release a new Defence Capability Plan in June or July, setting out procurement priorities. There is no longer a sense that spending on defence will be unpopular.

The main challenge will be renewing the fleet of the Royal New Zealand Navy (RNZN). Key units that need replacement are the two Anzac-class frigates, and there are clear signals that New Zealand will consider buying ships of the general-purpose frigate class that is intended for the Royal Australian Navy. Using the same design would promote interoperability and economy.

The Royal New Zealand Air Force has modernised with the recent purchase of P-8A Poseidon maritime patrollers and C-130J Hercules airlifters. New naval helicopters are likely to come soon.

New Zealand can provide better awareness of the eastern approaches to Australia with Poseidons. A runway extension on the Chatham Islands, 800km east of mainland New Zealand, was opened in January to handle aircraft of the size of Poseidons.

These assets are vital to supporting ongoing participation in collective security efforts. The first international deployment of a New Zealand Poseidon was to Japan in April, to help enforce UN Security Council sanctions against North Korea. Kiwi gunners have trained Ukrainian soldiers in Britain. The RNZN is vital to Pacific relationships.

New Zealand’s strategic isolation is becoming less apparent amid cyber attacks on the parliament in Wellington, great-power competition in Antarctica and acceptance that the country’s trade routes are exposed. Global conflicts feature on Kiwis’ screens daily, showing that the world is a more dangerous place and that foreign policy must change.

It’s understood that stepping up will come at a cost. New Zealand needs to have defence capability that can integrate and enhance Australian forces in the Indo-Pacific. The new government knows that Australia, as New Zealand’s only formal defence ally, is the most important partner.

 

Australia and New Zealand need an Anzac cyber incident review board

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Many cyber attacks now straddle the Tasman Sea, such as last year’s data breach against Latitude, an Australian financial services provider, which affected more than 14 million people across Australia and New Zealand. As both nations focus on how to recover better from such large-scale incidents, they should combine their efforts by setting up an Anzac cyber incident review board.

A joint board would have several key functions enhancing the cybersecurity posture of both nations. It would review technical details of an incident, its root cause, actions taken by industry and government, effectiveness of coordination between stakeholders during a response, and the impacts on the affected entity, sector, and communities in both nations.

Upon completion of a review, findings and best practices learnings could be made public through a report to enhance collective cyber security and help prevent recurrences.

A joint board, unlike two national ones, would have the strength of the shared resources and expertise of Australia and New Zealand. Having just one board for both countries would also help industry, which would not have to engage with two reviews about a single incident.

Seamless trans-Tasman cooperation on cybersecurity is a stated priority. New Zealand Prime Minister Chris Hipkins and Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese emphasised ‘the importance of both countries continuing to work together to strengthen cyber security and rules and norms in cyberspace’ at their annual meeting in May 2023.

The two nations have a long history of creating trans-Tasman institutions to confront national security threats. A prime example is the Australia-New Zealand Counter-Terrorism Committee (ANZCTC), which promotes cooperation among law enforcement and policy officials in both countries. It played a pivotal role in helping Australian officials understand the challenges faced by their New Zealand counterparts after the 2019 Christchurch massacre. Now it’s time to build on the institutional framework of ANZCTC to create a joint cybersecurity taskforce.

Setting up a joint cyber incident review board would formalise collaboration that Australia and New Zealand already have. After the Latitude data breach, the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner (OAIC) and the New Zealand Office of the Privacy Commissioner (OPC) launched a joint investigation into the company’s practices in handling personal information. As a joint investigation, it will efficiently exploit both agencies’ resources and maybe reduce the regulatory effect on Latitude. Importantly, it won’t preclude the OAIC and OPC from reaching separate regulatory outcomes or making separate decisions on regulatory responses.

In any new institution that confronts digital risks, a genuine partnership model with industry must be built in. Both Canberra and Wellington are trying to adapt national institutions and frameworks, or even design them from scratch, but the issue can’t be solved through government actions alone.

Australia is further along in the process of collaborating with industry on cyber risk. Its 2023–2030 Cyber Security Strategy seeks to re-shape public-private partnership, and one of its aims is to create a cyber incident review board. The board would deliver no-fault, no-liability reports on cyber incidents following investigations conducted by government in conjunction with industry, similar to the United States’ Cyber Safety Review Board. The US version is made up of government and private sector members and sends recommendations directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security and the President.

Exactly what authority Australia’s review board would have—for example, whether it could compel companies, through subpoena, to provide information for an investigation—is being decided following a recent consultation with the public and industry.

As New Zealand considers an update to its 2019 Cyber Security Strategy, it should explore how the Australian model could be translated. New Zealand officials should engage with the results from Australia’s public consultation process and envisage a new approach to industry partnership.

A joint board between Australia and New Zealand would not apportion blame or recommend liability against any company. Instead, it would focus on lessons learned and provide non-binding recommendations to the public. Additionally, if a significant incident were to affect Australia and not New Zealand, representatives from New Zealand could be observers rather than active reviewers. As observers, they could still draw lessons from an incident.

In addition to establishing a smooth collaboration across the Tasman, an Anzac cyber incident review board would be a valuable resource for the broader region. In particular, it would be an asset for the Pacific Cyber Security Operational Network (PaCSON), which brings together government-designated cybersecurity incident response officials from across the Pacific. Australian and Kiwi officials could stand together at future PacSON meetings to offer updates and joint recommendations.

The time is right to modernise tran-Tasman cooperation on cyber security and to digitise the Anzac spirit to tackle cyber threats together.

The lessons of New Zealand’s China diplomacy

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It wasn’t that long ago that Australian and New Zealand prime ministers were falling over themselves to run trade missions to the People’s Republic of China. Both governments lobbied hard for and secured early free-trade agreements, and both strongly promoted goods and services trade and all manner of bilateral agreements with the PRC.

It was an age of activity that viewed today looks frenzied.

Those efforts helped tether the trans-Tasman economy to the PRC. The resulting dependency has come under intense scrutiny as human rights, geopolitical, geoeconomic and diplomatic challenges have grown, and as the Chinese economy has slowed.

Australasian relations with the PRC have evolved in response. The heart of the recalibration is a rebalancing of the risk–opportunity calculus and a more careful consideration of each country’s national interest.

This shift has occurred quietly in New Zealand, largely due to the absence of the dramatic events that characterised Australia–China relations and a keen recognition of New Zealand’s trade dependency, but nonetheless that evolution is strikingly similar to the Australian experience.

This shouldn’t surprise anyone familiar with trans-Tasman relations.

At first glance, Prime Minister Chris Hipkins’s state visit to the PRC in June—in the company of 29 business representatives—appears to fit the earlier Australasian model of engagement with China. It focused on economic engagement, assuaged concerns over a growing list of challenges and differences in the relationship, and deliberately provided the Chinese government with a public relations win at home and abroad.

This was the first PM-led business delegation to China since April 2016, and the first PM visit since April 2019. It followed a ‘robust’ meeting in Beijing in May between Foreign Minister Nanaia Mahuta and her Chinese counterpart Qin Gang during which concerns about the human rights situation in Xinjiang, the erosion of rights and freedoms in Hong Kong, developments in the South China Sea, increasing tensions in the Taiwan Strait and the importance of engaging through regional institutions in the Pacific, especially on security matters, were all raised.

With these positions outlined and differences aired at a high level, the PM’s June visit went ahead with a focus on trade and economic opportunities and on managing the theatrics of PRC diplomacy. If achieving these limited goals was the purpose of the visit, then it was a resounding success, but no doubt tough conversations were also had behind the scenes.

What then of the prospects for Anthony Albanese’s mooted plans for his own China visit later this year? Here are some takeaways from the New Zealand experience.

First, robust discussions about differences are part and parcel of diplomacy with the PRC today, and while they are unlikely to get any easier, they need not prevent high-level diplomacy. Dropping longstanding positions and concerns is not a prerequisite to a high-level visit.

The very week that Hipkins was in Beijing, Immigration Minister Andrew Little released a ministerial communiqué with Australia, Canada, the UK and the US on countering foreign interference, cybersecurity, engagement with the technology industry and national resilience. While country agnostic, these are areas that New Zealand has signalled as concerns in its relations with the PRC and on which it is actively working with partners.

Beijing could have reacted to this, or previous joint statements New Zealand has made, and chosen to derail the visit, but it didn’t. Just as New Zealand has interests to pursue through high-level engagement, so too does Beijing. Faced with a sluggish economic rebound from the dynamic zero-Covid restrictions and troubled relations with the US, the EU, Japan and Korea, Chinese leaders need to demonstrate that they can still promote Chinese interests through diplomacy.

Second, PRC media frame high-level visits as the state sees fit, making it important to get the government messaging right.

In the New Zealand case, PRC media still follow a high-level assertion from 2014 that the New Zealand–China relationship is a model of relations between countries with different social and economic systems. The media use this framing to promote New Zealand business confidence and to critique New Zealand’s closest partners, especially the US and Australia, putting New Zealand in a difficult position.

In contrast, New Zealand’s public message was that China is an important partner and New Zealand is open for business. This glossed over the complexities of the relationship in favour of mercantile interests. The upside of the message was that it received a positive response in Beijing. The downside was that it avoided the challenges in the relationship and sent an unrealistic signal to New Zealand businesses.

Third, any high-level visit to the PRC forces liberal democracies to embrace contradictions and swallow the odd dead rat.

New Zealand is experiencing a prolonged balance-of-payments deficit driven by rising external inflation. The government has clearly signalled diversification and de-risking as priorities, but they will take time. Most products New Zealand exports are subject to protectionism internationally but still attract high returns in China. The government therefore needs to manage relations with China carefully to protect these interests.

Unsurprisingly, then, when asked by the New Zealand media prior to the visit whether Xi Jinping was a dictator, Hipkins chose diplomacy—responding that he was not. The PM could have chosen a better way of answering the question, while remaining diplomatic, but nevertheless, the emphasis on diplomacy was telling.

Fourth, the theatre of an official state visit, especially one framed as a trade mission, is an effective way of stabilising relations. A symbolic high-level meeting ticks many boxes for New Zealand’s Chinese counterparts, but at the same time it doesn’t need to be much more than that.

The new agreements from Hipkins’s visit were mostly continuations of existing areas of cooperation. There were no new trade goals or New Zealand references to Chinese policies like the Global Development Initiative or the Global Security Initiative.

Instead, the visit was about actively managing expectations, pursuing shared interests and seeking to maintain stable relations—all this done under challenging circumstances and while defending long-held positions. That is particularly important this year as New Zealand’s long-awaited first national security strategy and other defence, foreign policy and security assessments are set to be publicly announced.

The issues for Australia are notably more difficult. The relationship is more consequential for the PRC and therefore harder to manage. Australia has already faced sharper actions in the form of detention of Australian citizens, aggressive diplomacy and ongoing punitive economic sanctions. The resolution of those issues could rightly be viewed as a prerequisite to any state visit.

But a state visit should remain a goal. Diplomacy is the art of influencing others. Although challenging to manage publicly, state visits help stabilise relations and build the foundation for the tough conversations required down the track.

Why New Zealand should back India’s bid to join the Nuclear Suppliers Group

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India has long been interested in joining the Nuclear Suppliers Group (NSG) that was established in 1975, after India’s ‘peaceful nuclear explosion’ in the previous year, to prevent misuses of transferred nuclear technology and materials. In 2008, the NSG controversially decided to grant India a ‘clean waiver’ from its strict rules linked to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT).

The US position, ultimately accepted by most other supplier countries, was that there were significant non-proliferation benefits to bringing India inside the tent of safeguarded nuclear commerce and export controls, that putting most of India’s nuclear reactors under international safeguards was better than having none under such controls and that India’s nuclear weapons program would continue regardless of international civil cooperation. Yet, the 2008 India-specific exemption raised questions of consistent treaty interpretation and application of NSG guidelines. Many criticised it as a particularly egregious example of moral hazard that rewarded India for its twin bad behaviours of not signing the NPT and building nuclear bombs.

Among states already critical of the NPT’s bias towards the nuclear haves, it also called into question the credibility of the whole nuclear non-proliferation enterprise. India—which still has not signed the NPT—formally applied for NSG membership in 2016. The group’s decisions are made by consensus and China vetoed India’s membership. In 2019, China firmly stated its position that India must first sign the NPT as a non-nuclear-weapon state before it is allowed to join the NSG. The tiny minority of countries opposing India’s bid include New Zealand, Ireland and Austria, all three of which have been active supporters of the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW).

Last month, the Asia-Pacific Leadership Network and the Toda Peace Institute convened a workshop in Kathmandu on the triangular nuclear equations among China, India and Pakistan. New Zealand’s policies on Australia’s acquisition of nuclear submarines under the AUKUS pact and on India’s NSG membership came up for discussion vis-à-vis the Asian nuclear triangle. As the only person in the group with close connections to all three of India, Australia and New Zealand, I was in the centre of that conversation, which continued during the next stop in New Delhi.

Rarely does any country have the luxury of a completely consistent or totally principled foreign policy. Instead, every country has to balance a range of competing interests and negotiate tensions between interests and values. China’s policy on India’s NSG quest reflects a mix of principled support for NPT requirements and bilateral relations with the US and Pakistan. Beijing’s unease at the India–US civil nuclear cooperation deal has intensified with India’s growing military ties with the US, Japan and Australia.

Like Australia a decade ago, New Zealand is coming under pressure to lift its opposition to India’s NSG application. There are five sets of cross-cutting considerations that it must evaluate in coming to a correct balance of the competing pulls and pressures.

The first is by now New Zealand’s firmly established national identity as a nuclear-free country that has its origins in the rise of anti-nuclear sentiment in the 1980s which culminated in the rupture of the ANZUS alliance. The Labour government decided to pre-empt any possible future change of policy by passing the Nuclear Free Zone, Disarmament, and Arms Control Act in 1987. There’s strong resistance to any softening of the anti-nuclear credentials that have given New Zealand an international role, profile and visibility, including a leadership role in the negotiation and conclusion of the TPNW.

Yet, from within the terms of reference of the NSG’s purpose, is it better to have India inside or outside the tent? That is the central question that New Zealand needs to address but has avoided. The overriding goal of the NSG is to regulate the international trade in sensitive nuclear materials to ensure exclusively peaceful uses by recipient countries. India and Israel are two non-NPT nuclear-armed states that have demonstrably behaved responsibly on the proliferation front. This explains the wide support for India’s NSG membership.

Third, New Zealand must also consider if India can help to advance non-proliferation and disarmament goals in the world that exists after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The TPNW is itself evidence of the NPT’s limitations in promoting nuclear disarmament. Russia’s frequent invocations of its nuclear stockpile and serial hints of a willingness to use them have normalised the discourse around nuclear weapons. The world has arguably been closer to the nuclear precipice recently than it was during the Cuban missile crisis of 1962, if not since 1945.

In this environment of softening nuclear norms, the most critical remaining taboo is non-use of nuclear weapons. Should this final frontier be breached, the world will be well and truly on the path to nuclear Armageddon.

Of the nine countries that possess the bomb, India has demonstrated the greatest reluctance between having the materials and technical capacity to cross the threshold and actual weaponisation. The sentiment for nuclear disarmament, with India to play a leading role, remains attractive to influential segments. New Zealand could exploit its anti-nuclear credentials to work with both China and India, for example, to convert their unilateral no-first-use policies into an international convention.

The fourth relevant factor is bilateral relations with India. For this New Zealand is in a long queue, as many countries court New Delhi. India matters more to New Zealand than the other way round. The Australian precedent is instructive. Until a decade ago Australia restricted uranium exports to NPT states parties. India gave no indication of trying to punish Australia for refusing to sell uranium to it. But leaders and officials made it clear that the export ban was a major obstacle to the bilateral relationship progressing to another level as desired by Canberra. The lifting of the ban in 2011 did indeed set the two countries on a new course that has since gone from strength to strength in economic, diplomatic and security relations.

Finally, an end to New Zealand’s opposition to India’s NSG membership would also have the collateral benefit of harmonising Wellington’s India policy with those of it close allies and partners like Australia, the US and other Western countries. At present, New Zealand’s opposition provides political cover to China for its opposition to India based on geopolitical calculations dressed up as principles.

Australia and New Zealand can make Solomon Islands a ‘Pacific family’ offer China can’t match

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The announcement by the Solomon Islands government that it intends to ‘broaden its security and development cooperation with more countries’ has provoked a rash of commentary from Australian and New Zealand journalists, academics, think-tankers and politicians. Amid the calls to ‘amass an amphibious invasion force’ or offer the Solomons an Australian naval base, is there potential for a ‘Pacific family’ solution?

The commentary erupted on 24 March after a leaked draft security agreement between Solomon Islands and China was circulated online. Controversial elements of the document include the following two provisions:

Solomon Islands may, according to its own needs, request China to send … armed police, military personnel and other law enforcement and armed forces to Solomon Islands to assist in maintaining social order …

China may, according to its own needs and with the consent of Solomon Islands, make ship visits to, carry out logistical replenishments in, and have stopover and transition in Solomon Islands, and the relevant forces of China can be used to protect the safety of Chinese personnel and major projects in Solomon Islands.

The agreement also features a confidentiality clause that says: ‘Without the consent of the other party, neither party shall disclose the cooperation information to a third party.’

While the deal has now been ‘initialed’ by Chinese and Solomon Islands officials, it is still yet to be formally signed.

Reflecting the possibility of secretive negotiations for a Chinese naval base in Solomon Islands, reactions from commentators covered the spectrum from ‘wake-up call’ to Australia’s own ‘Cuban missile crisis’.

Notwithstanding different positions along the alert–alarm spectrum, there’s broad agreement among commentators that Australia’s foreign policy approaches have proved inadequate, regardless of the funds spent on programs.

Meanwhile, a statement on Solomon Islands issued jointly by Australia’s foreign minister and minister for international development and the Pacific gave little indication of alarm, but within 417 words made five references to Australia’s ‘Pacific family’, with whom Australia stands ‘shoulder-to-shoulder … through good times and bad’.

The statement affirmed that Australia respects ‘the right of every Pacific country to make sovereign decisions’; referred to $22 million Australia has provided to the Solomons for budget support and record regional development assistance; and pledged that Australia would ‘be transparent and … continue supporting peace, economic prosperity, stability and democratic values across our region’.

A higher level of concern was articulated in an ABC article that quoted Solomon Islands opposition leader Matthew Wale saying he had warned Australian officials in late 2021 that ‘China would likely try to establish a military presence in Solomon Islands … but the Australian government did nothing about it’. The article also quoted Australian international affairs expert Clinton Fernandes warning that the same factors could well play out in Papua New Guinea.

Perhaps the big question is why the government of Manasseh Sogavare, on record for wanting to cooperate with China ‘to build a world that is fair and just’, was negotiating a security agreement with Beijing without first seeking the endorsement of the people of Solomon Islands? An APMI Partners survey carried out in the Solomons in December found that 91% of respondents preferred their nation ‘to be diplomatically aligned more towards … liberal democracies’.

Insight into this question may be provided by a case study by Indo-Pacific researcher Cleo Paskal titled ‘How China buys foreign politicians’. Paskal presents what appears to be evidence of August 2021 payments originating from China to ‘39 of the [Solomons] Parliament’s 50 MPs’. According to Pascal, all of these MPs were ‘supporters to one degree or another, of the Prime Minister’. Alluding to Article 61 of the Solomons constitution, Paskal notes that 39 votes would be sufficient ‘with a small buffer’ to pass an alteration and push through Sogavare’s plan to delay the 2023 election until 2024. ‘And who knows what else he and/or Beijing would like to “adjust”?’ she asks.

We get now to the heart of the problem. As Australia and New Zealand emphasise transparency, sovereignty and democratic values and spend big on multimillion-dollar development projects, the geopolitical landscape may be rearranged by a series of budget bribes to members of Pacific parliaments. For, as Fernandes suggests, there’s no reason to think this vulnerability will be restricted to the Solomons.

Many Pacific islanders have strong links with Australia and New Zealand through education and family dating back to pre-independence times. If the APMI survey data is anywhere near accurate, Solomon Islanders remain strongly drawn to the liberal democratic model. Should, therefore, the leading democracies of the region respond to the strategic competition from China by seeking to make the much-vaunted ‘Pacific family’ more of a reality?

In other words, what policy options might be offered to Solomons government MPs such that alliance with the leading liberal democracies of the region becomes a permanent policy setting? What could be so attractive to the entire Solomons electorate that going against it even for money politics would be unthinkable?

The answer may be something Australians and New Zealanders enjoy most days of their lives—namely, access to a developed job market, education and healthcare. Establishing a path for greater integration of the Solomons and other Pacific island states into a ‘Pacific family’ led by Australia and New Zealand, in return for a common security policy, could settle for good the partner-of-choice question for these states. At the same time, increased opportunities for Pacific workers could provide badly needed labour and help stimulate a regional industrial revival.

Steps towards greater integration of Pacific states would represent a substantial change for Australian and New Zealand foreign policy. However, the audacious geopolitical manoeuvre by China calls for an equally innovative response from the region’s leading liberal democracies.

Taming the truckers

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Truculent truckers have driven several governments to distraction in recent weeks. In Canada, they blocked bridges to the United States and laid siege to the capital, Ottawa. In New Zealand’s capital, Wellington, truckers and other demonstrators inspired by the Canadian protesters blocked the square in front of the country’s parliament, as well as several city streets. This new wave of ‘freedom convoy’ protests—fuelled initially by opposition to coronavirus restrictions—has since spread to France, Australia and the US.

Governments and law-enforcement agencies have responded with a range of tactics, but ending the protests is proving difficult. In Ottawa, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau at first described the truckers as a fringe minority. But one survey reported that a third of Canadians supported the protesters, even as they were creating havoc for Ottawa residents, and for factories on both sides of the US–Canada border.

The Ottawa police tried a ‘surge and contain’ strategy, arresting a few people, issuing tickets and traffic notices, and seizing fuel being brought to the truckers. This approach, the city’s police chief said, significantly reduced the number of trucks and protesters. But it has not been successful enough. On 6 February, the mayor of Ottawa declared a state of emergency, and police subsequently used a court injunction to start clearing the Ambassador Bridge between Ontario and the US. But the protests have continued, and on 15 February the police chief resigned.

In Wellington, as in Ottawa, the protesters were initially permitted to have their say. But after a week of growing disorder, the authorities adopted various measures in an effort to disperse them. The speaker of the House of Representatives turned on water sprinklers on the lawn where protesters were assembled, and then played Barry Manilow and ‘Macarena’ on a 15-minute loop. But many of the protesters remained.

The French authorities took a more robust approach, banning the convoi de la liberté in Paris. On 11 February, the police deployed more than 7,000 officers to tollbooths and other key sites around the city, along with bulldozers and water cannon to break up potential blockades. By the following day, 337 people had been fined and several dozen arrested. But a cat-and-mouse game between protesters and police continues.

These protests have three features that make them particularly difficult to manage.

First, myriad grievances are uniting protesters. Clearly, repeated government-imposed Covid-19 restrictions have led to widespread exhaustion and exasperation. This was evident in Europe in late 2021, when the introduction of new lockdowns and restrictions because of the spread of the Omicron variant triggered immediate large-scale demonstrations in Belgium, the Netherlands, Austria, Croatia and Italy. But the trucker-inspired protests have snowballed quickly to include groups with a multitude of complaints and demands.

The protests in Canada were sparked by a new government mandate requiring unvaccinated truckers to quarantine after returning from the US. Within days, the truckers were joined by an assortment of political groups and were egged on by some opposition parties. Similarly, in New Zealand, what started as a protest against vaccine mandates rapidly expanded to include truckers, the fundamentalist Christian leader Brian Tamaki’s Freedoms and Rights Coalition, and an online conspiracy-theory channel, with banners highlighting a range of issues, including Covid-19, censorship and indigenous rights.

A second feature of the protests is the inspiration and support they receive from abroad. Paradoxically, nationalist anti-globalisers are encouraging movements in other countries. Already in 2021, right-wing US groups were fuelling anti-vaccine protests in Australia. And US politicians, including former president Donald Trump, Senator Ted Cruz of Texas and Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia show little restraint in urging on protesters elsewhere.

Funding for the protests is global, too. The crowdfunding platform GoFundMe transferred an initial C$1 million (US$787,000) to the Canadian protesters before it stopped payments and refunded donations following police reports of violence. GiveSendGo, a US Christian crowdfunding site, has reportedly raised more than US$8 million for the protesters, and insists that it will distribute the money despite a Canadian court order prohibiting it from doing so.

Trudeau has raised concerns about US-based callers flooding emergency phone lines in Ottawa, and about the presence of US citizens in the blockades. In New Zealand, where protesters are flying Canadian and Trump flags opposite the parliament, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern described the anti-vaccine-mandate demonstrations as an unprecedented ‘imported’ phenomenon.

A final complicating factor is that the protests’ lack of clear leadership or organisation leaves governments and police with no negotiating partners. The Teamsters Union, which represents 15,000 long-haul truck drivers in Canada, denounced the Ottawa blockade. And amid chaotic scenes in Wellington, Tamaki’s coalition reportedly left the protests when they saw white supremacists joining the ranks, but later returned.

Despite these obstacles, some conflict-management lessons are worth applying. For starters, civic leaders would do well to avoid defining the issues at stake in a maximalist way. Mark Carney, a former governor of the Bank of Canada and the Bank of England, was arguably guilty of that when he wrote in a recent heartfelt commentary, ‘The goals of the leadership of the so-called freedom convoy were clear from the start: to remove from power the government that Canadians elected less than six months ago.’

The authorities should instead focus on the protesters’ narrower common goals, such as those concerning specific aspects of Covid-19 mandates. With that in mind, they should seek out the protesters who are championing those issues and pursue a dialogue with them.

Finally, amid calls to use the military, governments need to think both tactically and strategically about how to uphold the rule of law. Troops should not be used. Instead, officials should consult the playbook used by the United Kingdom to address violent protests in 2011: courts were kept open 24 hours a day so that the police could enforce every infraction in real time. Tactically, opportunistic protesters were dissuaded. Strategically, public support for the rule of law was strengthened.

Australia and New Zealand should help their island neighbours get into space

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The benefits of space are boundless, but access to the domain is unequal. Wealthy countries can afford space programs and enjoy the advantages of investment in space technology, while low-income nations struggle to establish the ground infrastructure required to access those advantages.

Most Pacific island nations lack such wealth, and the governments of Australia and New Zealand need to do more to help them build long-term space capabilities.

Factors preventing South Pacific states from participating include lack of the expertise, resources and money needed to establish ground facilities to access space services or to build small satellites. The accelerating development of space capabilities has bolstered some smaller states’ engagement in the space sector, but it hasn’t greatly benefited those in the southwest Pacific.

There are approximately 3,372 satellites orbiting our planet but, with the exception of Australia and New Zealand, not one has been launched or operated by a Pacific island state.

Arguably, the Pacific islands’ main interest in space technology is to monitor extreme weather events and climate variations. Global warming caused by climate change is generating fluctuating weather patterns, rising sea levels and extreme weather events that are already severely affecting Australia’s neighbours. Pacific islands states are among the most vulnerable to climate change and face loss of land, infrastructure and exclusive economic zones. Low-lying nations fear they could be inundated as sea levels continue to rise.

Numerous space initiatives are underway to monitor climate instability in the region, such as the partnership between the UK Space Agency and CSIRO that aims to provide satellite data to Pacific island states to assist them with decision-making; the UN’s Asia–Pacific plan of action on space applications for sustainable development; and the UK government’s Common Sensing project.

But there are no projects devoted to building the autonomous space capabilities of any Pacific island nation. This constrains their ability to develop skills and expertise that would enable them to move from being the recipients of space technologies to participating in the rapidly growing space economy.

The OECD estimates that annual global commercial revenue from the space industry is around US$280–300 billion and the sector is predicted to be worth US$1.1 trillion in 2040.

For Australia, which has a small and relatively young space sector compared with the United States, Britain and France, the economic contribution of the space industry is still significant. In 2018–19, the sector accounted for 0.25% of GDP, generating around $4.8 billion and employing more than 10,000 people.

Considering our proximity to the Pacific island states, and our strategic interest in their security and economic stability, Australia and New Zealand are well situated to help build space capabilities in the region by offering education programs and helping to develop launch facilities.

The island nations lack the specific educational qualifications needed to establish large-scale space capabilities. In contrast, Australia has six tertiary degrees in space-related fields and in New Zealand there are two higher education courses. Institutions such as the International Space University periodically administer courses and training in Australia for those in the southern hemisphere. Through scholarships and transnational education programs, space-specific courses can build the expertise of Pacific island students and policymakers on campus and online.

Tertiary education is just one way to expand this knowledge. Professional development placements with the Australian Space Agency and New Zealand Space Agency would create pathways for Pacific representatives to develop space-oriented expertise. Cybersecurity, engineering, legal, science and policy degrees and experience are essential to forming space policy and creating space-based technologies. Island states’ education institutions are already skilling individuals in these areas, and Australia and New Zealand can help with on-the-job training.

Although small island nations can clearly benefit from access to space, they need to set the parameters of how they will apply these capabilities within their borders. Australia’s engagement with the Pacific islands has been viewed by some as being driven by one-sided national-security concerns with key objectives decided by policymakers in Canberra.

Australia’s offer of assistance should be about supporting these states to realise their regional and national priorities, not just preventing major-power rivals such as China from advancing their influence in the region.

For Australia and New Zealand, helping Pacific islands to develop and maintain launch sites could further foster regional cooperation. Kiribati and Nauru are geographically optimal locations to deploy satellites into orbit because they’re very close to the equator. Having a communal launch site would further promote Pacific regionalism by securing multilateral agreements and encouraging joint space operations. If nations don’t want to launch from within their territories, Australia and New Zealand could offer to launch satellites for them.

Australia and New Zealand have the knowledge, skills and industries to help develop our island neighbours’ long-term autonomy and capacity in space. Time is finite, however, and collaboration is needed now, not later.