Tag Archive for: United States

Virginia, we have a problem

Australia’s plan to acquire Virginia-class submarines from the United State is looking increasingly improbable. The US building program is slipping too badly.

This heightens the need for Australia to begin looking at other options, including acquiring Suffren-class nuclear attack submarines (SSNs) from France.

The Covid-19 pandemic dramatically disrupted work at the two shipyards that build Virginias, General Dynamics Electric Boat at Groton, Connecticut, and Huntington Ingalls Industries’ yard at Newport News, Virginia. It badly hindered output at many companies in the supply chain, too. With too few workers, the industry has built up a backlog, and yards are filling with incomplete submarines.

Within six years, the US must decide whether to proceed with sale of the first of at least three and possibly five Virginias to Australia, a boat that will be transferred from the US Navy’s fleet.

Nine months before the transfer goes ahead, the president of the day must certify that it will not diminish USN undersea capability. This certification is unlikely if the industry has not by then cleared its backlog and achieved a production rate of 2.3 a year—the long-term building rate of two a year for the USN plus about one every three years to cover Australia’s requirement.

The chance of meeting that condition is vanishingly small.

The situation in the shipyards is stark. The industry laid down only one SSN in 2021. It delivered none from April 2020 to May 2022. The USN has requested funding for only one Virginia in fiscal year 2025, breaking the two-a-year drumbeat, ‘due to limits on Navy’s budget topline and the growing Virginia class production backlog’.

As of January 2025, five of 10 Block IV Virginias ordered are in the yards, as are five of 12 Block Vs for which acquisition has been announced. (Work has not begun on the other seven Block Vs.)

The building time from laying down until delivery has increased from between 3 and 3.5 years before the pandemic to more than 5 years. The tempo is still slowing: the next Virginia, USS Iowa, is due to be delivered on 5 April 2025, 5.8 years after it was laid down.

On the original, pre-pandemic schedule, all the Block IVs could probably have been delivered to the USN by now. This is a gap that cannot be recovered in a few years, despite all the expensive manpower training and retention programs in hand.

Exacerbating the problem for the yards, the Block V submarines are 30 percent larger, and more complex to build, making a return to shorter build times unlikely.  Speaking to their shareholders in October, the chief executives of Huntington Ingalls and General Dynamics blamed their slowing delivery tempo on supply chain and workforce issues.  HII says it is renegotiating contracts for 17 Block IV and Block V Virginias.

Furthermore, Electric Boat has diverted its most experienced workers to avoid further slippage in building the first two ballistic missile submarines of the Columbia class, the USN’s highest priority shipbuilding program, in which the Newport News yard also participates.

It gets worse. Many USN SSNs that have joined the US fleet over the past few decades are unavailable for service, awaiting maintenance. The pandemic similarly disrupted shipyards that maintain the SSNs of the Los Angeles and Virginia classes. In September 2022, 18 of the 50 SSNs in commission were awaiting maintenance. The Congressional Budget Office reports lack of spending on spare parts is also forcing cannibalisation and impacting the availability of Virginia class SSNs.

Australia’s SSN plan must worsen the US’s challenge in recovering from this situation, adding to the congestion in shipyards and further over loading supply chains already struggling to deliver SSNs to the USN.

A US decision not to sell SSNs to Australia is inevitable, and on current planning we will have no stopgap to cover withdrawal of our six diesel submarines of the Collins class, the oldest of which has already served for 28 years.

In the end, Australia’s unwise reliance on the US will have weakened the combined capability of the alliance. And Australia’s independent capacity for deterrence will be weakened, too.

As I wrote in December, it is time to look for another solution. One is ordering SSNs of the French Suffren class.  The design is in production, with three of six planned boats delivered.  It is optimised for anti-submarine warfare, with good anti-surface, land-strike, special-forces and mining capability. It is a smaller design, less capable than the Virginia, but should be cheaper and is a better fit for Australia’s requirements.

Importantly, it requires only half the crew of a Virginia, and we should be able to afford and crew the minimum viable force of 12 SSNs.

Let’s build on the good progress in training, industry and facility preparations for supporting US and British SSNs in Australia, all of which should continue, and find a way to add to the alliance’s overall submarine capability, not reduce it.

From the bookshelf: ‘War’

Russia’s war on Ukraine, the war in the Middle East and the yawning chasm between liberal Americans and MAGA supporters defined much of the presidency of Joe Biden and are likely to define the political landscape for the initial years of Donald Trump’s second presidency.

In his latest book, War, Bob Woodward provides a vivid inside account of the three intertwined conflicts, casting fresh light on recent global events and providing the reader with tools to compare the outgoing and incoming administrations.

Woodward and his colleague Carl Bernstein, both working at The Washington Post, rose to instant fame in 1972 for their coverage of the Watergate scandal, which led to the resignation of US president Richard Nixon. Their book about Watergate, All The President’s Men, has been hailed as ‘the greatest reporting story of all time’.

Woodward has gone on to author or co-author a further 22 books about US politics, including several about Trump’s first presidency, and still has a desk at The Washington Post. More than half a century of reporting on the US political establishment has given him access to inside sources that other journalists can only dream of.

Woodward’s research is meticulous and his sources impeccable. As a result, War brims with direct quotes from US and world leaders and their aides that provide fresh perspective on recent political dealmaking.

Woodward takes us behind the headlines to the minute-by-minute decision-making that has shaped key political outcomes. The reality that he describes is often very different from that depicted by the media.

When Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in April 2024 ordered a missile strike on Iran that killed the ranking commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guards, and Iran responded with a massive missile strike on Israel, Netanyahu was ready to retaliate in kind and the elements were in place for all-out war. Woodward provides a blow-by-blow account of the exchange between Netanyahu and US President Joe Biden that convinced the former to back down.

Ultimately, Netanyahu agreed to a ‘small precision retaliatory response’ while sending Iran a back-channel message that Israel was ‘going to respond but we consider our response to be the end’. Iran did not respond further and, thanks to Biden’s intervention, a major crisis was averted. The reader can only speculate how Trump would have handled the situation.

Woodward also contemplates what drives presidents Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump. He reminds us that Trump views everything through a personalised prism. At a 2018 press conference in Helsinki following a summit with Putin, Trump accepted the Russian leader’s denial of meddling in the US presidential elections at face value, despite having seen extensive evidence to the contrary, and had great difficulty subsequently withdrawing his remarks. ‘[Putin] said very good things about me’, Trump explained to his aides, ‘why should I repudiate him?’

In stark contrast, Putin is driven by a deep frustration with the collapse of the Soviet Union and a desire to restore Russia to greatness. In October 2021, Biden’s intelligence directors presented him and his closest advisers with conclusive intel that Putin intended to invade Ukraine. Woodward details the incredulous responses within the US administration and among its closest European allies trying to understand why the usually low-key Putin would make such a high-risk move.

When confronted about the planned invasion by secretary of state Antony Blinken, Russian foreign minister Sergei Lavrov denied the intel point blank, blustering ‘Are you serious with this stuff?’ Interestingly, Blinken concludes that Lavrov, who is not part of Putin’s innermost circle, probably had not been kept fully in the loop.

Woodward details many other high-level exchanges. In late 2022, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz was unwilling to authorise other European countries to supply Ukraine with German-made top-of-the-line Leopard battle tanks without the United States matching the move by providing M1 Abrams tanks, which Biden was reluctant to do. Blinken and other senior staffers spent long hours convincing Biden to announce the decision without immediately providing the tanks, thus allowing Germany to go ahead.

In October 2022, Russia publicly accused Ukraine of preparing to use a dirty radioactive bomb, and indicated that it would consider this an act of nuclear terrorism to which it would respond. Woodward provides a fascinating account of the tense phone call from US Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin that convinced his Russian counterpart Sergei Shoigu to back down from the implied nuclear threat.

For Blinken, convincing Netanyahu and his war cabinet to allow the first shipment of humanitarian aid into Gaza was no less challenging.

On balance, Woodward considers the Biden presidency a success. At the centre of this success lie teamwork and continuity. Biden’s tight-knit team from the State and Defense Departments, National Security Council, Joint Chiefs of Staff and CIA worked together throughout his term to pursue a sound and coherent foreign policy. Woodward provides a set of benchmarks against which to assess the incoming US administration.

In dealing with China, Trump just needs to step up his first-term approach

As in his first term, Donald Trump should continue a resolute approach toward China in his second term. This approach was and is grounded in the belief that a more assertive posture will deter China’s expansionist ambitions, reinforce US credibility among allies and safeguard economic and technological leadership.

Trump’s track record and cabinet nominations suggest a consistent approach moving forward, with several initiatives needing only formal adoption or targeted reinforcement of existing policies.

The United States should, and under Trump’s leadership again probably will, prioritise four key objectives: counter Chinese advances in the Indo-Pacific, insist on Taiwanese self-defence, oppose Beijing’s predatory economic practices, and compete in economic and technological development.

Key priorities of the first administration included promoting US interests, economic prosperity and preserving peace through strength. Trump’s proposed foreign policy team for his second administration, including Senator Marco Rubio as secretary of state and Michael Waltz as national security advisor, signals a maintained firm stance on China, reflecting the general trajectory of the first term.

Their records suggest the new administration’s priorities will include more stringent economic and cybersecurity policies to address evolving challenges posed by China. As secretary of state, Rubio may also spotlight China’s human rights violations, potentially amplifying international pressure on Beijing. Overall, however, the tone and intent will likely follow Trump’s previous hardline approach.

One of the most pressing foreign policy challenges is China’s growing global influence through economic coercion. The first Trump administration’s recalibration of US-China relations included confronting predatory economic practices, prioritising US business interests and asserting technological leadership.

The Biden administration largely continued these strategies, affirming their effectiveness. The incoming administration is likely to build on this foundation, focusing on peace through strength, advancing technological competitiveness and bolstering economic resilience.

Countering China’s advances in the Indo-Pacific is another priority. To do so, the US military will need to modernise key capabilities such as space, cyber and missile defence systems. Since Trump promoted military modernisation in the 2017 National Security Strategy and 2018 National Defense Strategy, it’s likely to be a key strategy under his second administration.

Trump’s first-term efforts to push allies to share the financial and operational burdens of defending the free world have yielded results, particularly among NATO members. NATO’s annual defence spending increased due to additional contributions from several European allies, while Germany committed to significant military spending hikes. Expect more of this in Trump’s second term, strengthening collective security and alleviating the US’s disproportionate burden.

To confront China’s ambitions in the Indo-Pacific, the US needs to deepen cooperation with allies through joint exercises, intelligence-sharing and expanded base access. NATO and like-minded democracies have expressed shared commitment to a free and open Indo-Pacific, presenting an opportunity for unified action. Trump has endorsed AUKUS, talks for which began under his first administration.

Taiwan remains a flashpoint. Since 1972, the US’s One China policy has insisted that the Taiwan question must be solved peacefully by the two sides themselves. Accordingly, one of the main provisions of the 1979 Taiwan Relations Act places the burden of defending the island on Taiwan. Trump’s demonstrated expectation that allies must help themselves indicates he will expect Taipei to do more.

Taiwan must strengthen its military capacity, harden key infrastructure and reduce its reliance on foreign military support. Previous administrations have rarely demanded this, but the incoming administration should strongly encourage Taiwan’s self-reliance in defence matters. Enhanced self-sufficiency and readiness are essential to preserving peace and minimising the risk that the US would have to intervene to defend the island. Taiwan must make the costs of invasion and occupation prohibitively high for China.

The US must also lead in countering China’s predatory economic practices, including forced technology transfers and state subsidies. Promoting compliance with international trade rules, diversifying supply chains and supporting US businesses will strengthen the global economic order. Free-market principles and expanded trade partnerships will challenge China’s state-driven model and showcase the benefits of an open, rules-based system.

To outpace China’s ambitions, the US must invest in critical technologies—such as AI, quantum computing and advanced manufacturing—and diversify critical mineral supply chains. Trump’s 2017 National Security Strategy emphasised the strategic value of innovation, underscoring the need for continued investment in research and development to protect US security, create jobs and drive economic growth. In 2017 Trump signed an executive order addressing the US’s reliance on foreign sources of critical minerals.

Strengthening public-private partnerships and securing supply chains will safeguard US infrastructure and economic independence. Trump is likely to continue this trend in his second term.

This cohesive strategy—one that’s designed to counter China’s influence, strengthen alliances and promote peace—is a vision for the incoming administration that’s consistent with the core principles of Trump’s first term.

Editors’ picks for 2024: ‘Submarine agency chief: Australia’s SSNs will be bigger, better, faster’

Originally published on 28 May 2024.

The nuclear-powered, conventionally armed submarines to be built under the AUKUS agreement are on track to be the world’s most advanced fighting machines, says Australian Submarine Agency Director-General Jonathan Mead.

‘They’ll have greater firepower, a more powerful reactor, more capability and they’ll be able to do more bespoke operations, including intelligence gathering, surveillance, strike warfare, special forces missions and dispatching uncrewed vessels, than our current in-service submarines,’ Vice Admiral Mead says in an interview.

With a displacement of more than 10,000 tonnes, the SSN-AUKUS class will be larger than current US Virginia-class attack submarine of just over 7000 tonnes. Australia’s six conventionally powered Collins-class submarines are each about 3300 tonnes.

The SSN-AUKUS submarines to be built for Australia and Britain, with help from the United States, will be a ‘bigger, better, faster and bolder’ evolution of Britain’s Astute-class submarines, Mead says. The design will have the advantage of more US technology and greater commonality with US boats.

Australian steel will be used to build Australia’s SSN-AUKUS submarines, subject to a comprehensive qualification process expected to be completed in the first half of 2025.

The steel is also being qualified to both the British and US standards. Having Australian industry involved will deepen and bring resilience to the three nations’ supply chains, with greater mass, confidence and scale, Mead says.

In April, major US warship builder Newport News Shipbuilding lodged an initial purchase order for processed Australian steel from Bisalloy Steel’s Port Kembla plant for testing and training.

The government has committed to having eight nuclear submarines, Mead says, ‘and we’re on track’.

‘We’re planning on three Virginias and five SSN-AUKUS. That takes the program through to 2054.’

The SSN-AUKUS submarines built by Australia and Britain will be identical, incorporating technology from all three nations, including cutting-edge US technologies.

Those for the Royal Australian Navy will all be built at Osborne in South Australia. ‘Osborne will be the fourth nuclear-powered submarine shipyard among the three countries and one of the world’s most advanced technology hubs,’ Mead says.

The SSNs will all have an advanced version of the AN/BYG-1 combat system, used in the Collins class and in US submarines, and the Mark 48 heavyweight torpedo, an advanced version of which has been developed by the United States and Australia.

Mead says each Virginia has a crew of about 133 and the likely size of the SSN-AUKUS crew is being calculated as design work progresses.

The massive scale of the program and the nuclear element has understandably attracted strong attention, including criticism and questions about how skilled workforces will be found to build and crew the boats. Commentary has included suggestions that AUKUS is ‘dead in the water’.

Mead has no doubt that the project can be completed as planned. ‘Every day we ask ourselves the same question: ”Are we on track?” The answer is “yes.”’

For the program to succeed, it must be a national endeavour involving the Commonwealth, states and territories, industry, academia and the Australian people, Mead says. ‘To develop that social licence, we must provide confidence that we are going to deliver this capability safely and securely and not harm the environment.’

To build a nuclear mindset there must be an unwavering commitment to upholding the highest standards of safety, security, stewardship and safeguards, with all decisions underpinned by strong technical evidence. ‘It’s essential that everything we do is underpinned by strong technical and engineering evidence,’ he says. The reactor will be delivered as a sealed and welded unit that won’t be opened for the life of the submarine.

Mead acknowledges that recruiting is the big challenge.

He says comprehensive training of crews has begun, with Australian officers and enlisted sailors already passing nuclear training courses. ‘Australian officers have also topped courses in both the US and UK, showing that our people are up for the task that lies ahead.’

It’s intended that about 100 Australian officers and sailors will be in US training programs this year and they’ll go on to serve on US submarines as part of their crews. Other Australians will train in Britain and serve in Royal Navy boats.

Mead’s agency now has 597 staff, including engineers, project managers, lawyers, international relations specialists and policy makers. That is likely to rise to about 1000.

Given that Australia is the first non-nuclear nation acquiring nuclear-powered warships, the agency is working flat out to ensure rigorous regulations and safeguards are in place, along with the international agreements to back them.

Mead says Australia’s Optimal Pathway for acquisition of nuclear-powered attack submarines (SSNs) was designed to ensure that Australia would meet the exhaustive requirements to own and operate such vessels as soon as possible.

According to the Optimal Pathway, the first stage will see the first of several US and British submarines operating from the base HMAS Stirling in Western Australia as Submarine Rotational Force–West (SRF-West) from 2027.

In 2032, Australia will receive the first of three Virginia-class submarines from the US. One of the Australian officers now in US submarines is likely to be its commanding officer after extensive service on a US boat. The first two of those boats will be Block 4 Virginias, each with about 10 years’ US service, and they’ll be delivered after two years of deep maintenance and with 23 years of operational life left in them, Mead says, adding that the third US boat will be a brand new Block 6 Virginia. The US Navy has not yet put the Block 6 design into production.

The plan is to have the first SSN-AUKUS completed in Australia by early 2040s. Australia has an option to ask for two more Virginias if the SSN-AUKUS effort is delayed.

Mead says that how long the Collins are kept operational will be a decision for the government of the day as the SSNs arrive. The current plan is to begin big overhauls, called life-of-type extensions, for the Collins class in 2026.

He acknowledges that having the Virginias, SSN-AUKUS and Collin classes all operational could bring supply chain and training issues, but he believes those challenges can be handled. Having combat systems and torpedoes that are common to all these submarines will help.

Australians are on the design and design review teams for SSN-AUKUS. ‘We are embedding more technical and engineering people into the British program.’

Large numbers of Australian workers will soon be embedded in the British submarine construction site run by BAE Systems at Barrow, UK. ‘Many will come from the Australian Submarine Corporation, where they’ve been working on Collins. They’ll deepen their expertise, very specifically on how to build a nuclear-powered submarine,’ Mead says.

BAE will bring the intellectual property to the partnership with ASC to develop Osborne into a shipyard for nuclear-powered submarines.

It’s often suggested in Australia that, because the US has fewer submarines than it believes it needs, it will refuse to hand any over to Australia if its own situation worsens.

Senior American officials have expressed strong alternative views on why the project’s success is very important to the US and why it is in their own interests to make it work.

The US publication Defense News quoted the commander of US submarine forces, Vice-Admiral Rob Gaucher, telling a conference in April that co-operation with Australia would help the US submarine fleet in important ways. These included increasing the number of allied boats working together on operations. Having Australian personnel gaining experience on US boats would help ease a recruiting shortfall in the US Navy that flowed from the Covid-19 epidemic, and having access to the Australian base at HMAS Stirling in WA would extend the US Navy’s reach and maintenance options.

Gaucher said that, because the Australian SSNs would operate in co-ordination with American boats, ‘we get more submarines far forward. We get a port that gives us access’ to the Indo-Pacific region.

He said that by the end of this year the US Navy would graduate about 50 Australians as nuclear-trained operators and another 50 submarine combat operators. They would train on US submarines for the rest of this decade, increasing the number of people qualified to stand watch on American boats.

‘We get the opportunity to leverage an ally who can help us with manning and operating. We get surge capacity because now I have another area [where] I can do maintenance,’ Gaucher said.

Dan Packer, a former navy captain who is now the US director of naval submarine forces for AUKUS, told Defense News that Australia had eight officers in the inaugural training cohort that began in 2023. Three of those eight will be moved into an accelerated training pipeline, and one will eventually be the first Australian Virginia-class commanding officer.

Packer said the US was helping Australia build its submarine force from about 800 personnel to 3000. This year the US would bring 17 Australian officers, 37 nuclear enlisted and 50 non-nuclear enlisted into its training program. ‘And we’re going to up that number every year.’

These personnel would be fully integrated into US attack submarine crews until Australia could stand up its own training pipeline.

At some point, he said, the US Navy would have 440 Australians on 25 attack submarines, with each fully integrated crew including two or three Australian officers, seven nuclear enlisted and nine non-nuclear enlisted sailors. ‘They will do everything that we do’.

Mead says Australian navy personnel have been aboard the US submarine tender USS Emory S. Land for several months learning to maintain and sustain nuclear-powered submarines, and a US Virginia-class boat will visit HMAS Stirling for maintenance this year. Parts will come from an evolving Australian supply chain.

That visit will not include reactor work, ‘but ultimately, we will undertake work on systems that support the sealed power unit, within the compartment that houses it on the submarine,’ Mead says.

He says providing the industrial base to build and sustain the submarines, and crewing them, will involve about 20,000 jobs. A lot of work is being done with universities, technical schools and industry to prepare this formidable workforce.

Mead has long been a student of international relations and says the decision to equip Australia with SSNs was based on recognition that the Indo-Pacific is becoming a more dangerous place and ‘nuclear submarines provide a very effective deterrent’.

He rejects the argument that technology will soon make the oceans too transparent for crewed submarines to operate safely. ‘Our allies and partners and other countries in the region do not see it that way, and neither do we. We’ve done our analysis, and we see that crewed, nuclear-powered submarines will be the leading war-fighting capability for the next 50 to 100 years.’

He’s at pains to stress that the submarines will always be under full Australian sovereign control.

‘They will always be under the Australian government’s direction, operated by the RAN, and under the command of an Australian naval officer.’

Editors’ picks for 2024: ‘The long arc of Australian defence strategy’

Originally published on 11 May 2024.

Kim Beazley was appointed as Minister for Defence on 13 December 1984. He oversaw a revolution in Australian defence, as profoundly important in shaping the nation as were the economic reforms of the time. His enduring legacy is the idea of self-reliance in the defence of Australia. The 1987 Defence White Paper that Beazley delivered, taken together with the 1986 Review that he commissioned (prepared by Paul Dibb), stand—like Newton’s Principia—as the foundational model for defending Australia.

Beazley acknowledges humbly that he benefited from the work of others, including Dibb, and academics such as Tom Millar, Hedley Bull, Bob O’Neill, Coral Bell, Des Ball, and Ross Babbage. This credit is well due. However, only an actively engaged minister, intellectually as well as politically committed to the task, could have brought forth such a revolution at the time in thought and practice.

Australian defence strategy during the 1950s and 1960s had been framed around forward defence. At the time, Australia was a strategic backwater, where no questions of geopolitical significance were going to be settled militarily, or otherwise. The establishment of the joint facilities at North West Cape, Nurrungar, and Pine Gap, over the period 1963-69, did nothing to change this. Their profound implications for Australia’s defence, and its alliance with the United States, were not crystallised until the 1980s. Again, Beazley played the pivotal role, something to be examined at another time.

Australia received a number of strategic shocks in the late 1960s. First, the United Kingdom announced in July 1967 that it was withdrawing from ‘East of Suez’. Then, more significantly, Richard Nixon announced in July 1969 what became known as the ‘Guam Doctrine’. In Asia, allies of the United States would be expected to take up the principal burden of defending themselves, with minimal US support, unless they were threatened by nuclear-armed adversaries, and where the United States had applicable alliance commitments or interests which would warrant direct combat involvement.

Policy thinking within the Department of Defence had already started to shift in the direction of self-reliant defence. (Stephan Fruehling’s research on this quiet shift is the benchmark.) However, it was the Guam Doctrine and the commencement under Nixon of the long US withdrawal from Vietnam that tolled the bell for forward defence. The Fraser Government announced self-reliant defence as policy in the 1976 Defence White Paper, without however changing military strategy, or force structure priorities.

This is the situation that Beazley inherited in 1984. In the face of the Department of Defence and the three services—the army, navy and air force—not being able to agree on what the ‘defence of Australia’ actually meant in terms of military strategy, force structure, and funding, Beazley commissioned Dibb in February 1985 to examine Australia’s defence capabilities. Dibb was able to draw upon the groundbreaking work of the Strategic Defence Studies Centre at the Australian National University—one of the most consequential contributions to policy by the Australian academy.

Based on Dibb’s 1986 Review, the 1987 White Paper established the self-reliant defence of Australia as the organising principle of our defence strategy. Given the prevailing strategic environment, it concluded that the ability to deal with ‘low level’ and ‘escalated low level’ threats, which could be mounted with little warning, would drive decisions on force structure.

The 1987 White Paper did not exclude the possibility of Australia’s having in future to contend with the possibility of more substantial conflict. Australia could prepare for such a contingency by means of ‘strategic warning time’. It could use time effectively to expand the force to meet a growing threat. It was judged that the Soviet Union would not likely mount a conventional attack on Australia (but would target Australia during a strategic nuclear exchange), and that regional powers would require at least a decade to develop the capabilities which would be needed to mount a substantial attack. During that time, Australia would be able to expand its force in anticipation.

Self-reliant defence did not mean armed neutrality or isolationism. The alliance with the United States retained its salience in Australian grand strategy, but the 1987 White Paper declared that Australia would not seek, or expect, unrealistic—and therefore non-credible—levels of commitment to the defence of Australia by US combat forces, save for the protection afforded by US nuclear weapons through extended deterrence. Further, Australia would contribute to US security, and global stability, by way of hosting the joint facilities. Self-reliant defence and the Australia-US alliance cohered in this model.

The 1987 White Paper expounded the ‘law’ of defence in depth, which meant, crucially, denial of access by an adversary through the sea-air approaches to Australia. This ‘law’ functioned as the overriding discipline on the development of the force. This approach turned into a strength the vast expanse of northern Australia, the extensive sea-air surrounds of the continent, and the archipelagic arc that extends from Sumatra to Fiji, a strategic barrier through which any adversary would have to project force against Australia, creating defensively advantageous choke points and operating areas.

Two decades later, the 2009 Defence White Paper sought to apply and update this model in light of China’s strategic and military rise. From around 2006, worrying disturbances had begun to be discerned in Australia’s strategic environment, of the kind that would warrant consideration of force expansion. At the same time, the United States, concerned about China’s growing military heft, was formulating military strategies in response, such as Air Sea Battle.

The 2009 White Paper was a systematic attempt by the Rudd Government to tackle the following strategic problem: the warning clock had started to tick; Australia might in future face the prospect of being in armed conflict with a major power; consequentially, a larger force would need to be built over time as a hedge. The maritime-focused ‘Force 2030’ was the result (note the choice of year). Force 2030 was to be the initial base upon which force expansion could further occur, as judged necessary over the 2010s and beyond.

Careful and deliberate consideration was given to the military strategic implications of ‘more substantial conflict’, to use the 1987 formula. The 2009 White Paper directed that an enlarged ‘primary operating environment’ for the ADF be adopted, expanded further north and west, in order to more effectively seek to deny access through the sea-air approaches against a major power adversary. Force projection as far forward as maritime Southeast Asia was contemplated, an evolution of the 1987 model—not its repudiation.

The 2009 White Paper stands in the arc of Australian defence strategy as the road not taken, when we still had time. A further 15 years on, Australia today has to contend with the very prospect of ‘more substantial conflict’ that was contemplated theoretically in the 1987 White Paper, and considered specifically in the 2009 White Paper.

Over this time, the Indo-Pacific strategic order has been transformed. US primacy is being challenged. China has accelerated its military expansion (including of its strategic nuclear forces). It has become more assertive and coercive in its behaviour, while still calibrating its actions so as to avoid, for the foreseeable future, direct military confrontation. Its partnership with Russia is becoming effectively a military alliance, creating the possibility, should it come to a clash, of a two-front war. China appears to have decided to be ready to use force to achieve its strategic aims, perhaps from 2027.

An examination is required of the strength of China’s resolve to go to war, as well as the respective perceptions of China and the United States of each other’s resolve to wage war against the other. There is no more strategic question. For strategic planning purposes, we should assign a 10 percent probability to the likelihood of major war in our region in the 2020s. This could arise from coercion and assertiveness on China’s part, which could raise the risk of misadventure, and which could in turn lead to conflict. Or war might come more deliberately, a function of Beijing’s calculus of victory.

While Australia would retain always a sovereign right to determine its interests in the light of prevailing circumstances, it is likely that we would be a combatant in any such war. China would not be in doubt as to our geostrategic utility to the United States. Of course, there would be the issue of ANZUS treaty obligations, and the reality of the deep strategic integration that now exists between Australia and the United States, formed through the joint facilities, and more recent Australia-US ‘force posture’ initiatives.

Australia’s security dilemma is now acute. Force expansion should have occurred over the past 15 years, as warning time counted down. Instead, the force remains configured for what was termed 40 years ago ‘escalated low level conflict’—when defence spending as a fraction of GDP was 2.5 percent, as compared with 2 percent, a difference of around $13 billion, in 2024-25. While the defence-GDP ratio is not in itself a planning tool, it is a valuable aid for analysis—a shorthand for the structural funding of defence, which can be tracked across time. In order to have built the force that we would now need for ‘more substantial conflict’, defence spending over the past 15 years should have been lifted steadily to at least 3% of GDP. We spent more at times during the Cold War, without being seriously threatened by major conventional attack.

There are, of course, competing demands on the budget which have to be balanced responsibly. The difference with other areas of spending is that structural underfunding in defence could one day lead to military defeat, and national peril as a result. Defence spending as a proportion of GDP should be increased quickly to at least 3%. This is a broad estimate of what it would take to address capability deficiencies that would be exposed in high-end combat with a major adversary. This increase in funding would be fiscally daunting, and would challenge Defence and industry, both of whose capacity to deliver would have to be dramatically enhanced in very short order.

Faced with the credible prospect of the jaws of war leaping violently at us during this decade, we are going to need a bigger force. Without this, Australia would be hard pressed to defend itself in a major war without a substantial degree of force augmentation from the United States in a number of areas of capability deficiency. So much for defence self-reliance. Recent policy directions, in the form of the 2020 Defence Strategic Update, and the 2024 National Defence Strategy, the latter being informed by the 2023 Defence Strategic Review (the most comprehensive examination of defence since the 1986 Review), have recognised this. Remediation is underway. How quickly or effectively is something for another day. Nations go to war with the force that they have, rather than the one that they need. We now have to make do with what we have, and what we can quickly build. How we got to this position of looming peril is not a useful question, for now. History will render that judgement.

Defending against a major power adversary would still require a strategy of defence in depth, and the denial of access in the sea-air approaches. Being prepared to operate forward of the archipelagic shield, along a north-south axis in maritime Southeast Asia, and in the Central Pacific (for instance, in the Guam-Bismarck Sea corridor), would represent a further evolution of the 1987 model, not a repudiation. Similarly, being prepared to operate along an extended east-west axis in the Pacific and Indian Oceans as part of a coordinated sea lane protection effort would be in keeping with the 1987 model, which indeed anticipated such operations.

New technologies and methods are of course today evident, not least in relation to cyber- attacks, technology-enabled cognitive warfare, space warfare, and advanced forms of strike weapons such as long-range hypersonic missiles. While complexity has increased and, in some cases, proximity is not always as critical, the geography of warfare has not been fundamentally altered. While the evolving interplay of technology, the character and logic of war, and the saliency of geography is a larger issue, and would require a more detailed exposition, the 1987 model still applies, even though engagement distances have increased, ‘kill chains’ have become more complicated, and the cyber and space domains have overcome some geographical constraints.

In the absence of being able to conjure instantly into being an expanded force, there are measures that we could take immediately which would allow us to make best use of operational warning time (such warning time is measured not in years, but in months). Here is an initial outline, not listed exhaustively nor in any detail:

  • The National Security Committee (NSC) should commission from the Secretaries Committee on National Security a periodic strategical appreciation of the prospect of major power conflict in the Indo-Pacific, to be prepared by a dedicated national security planning staff, which would cover indicators and warning signs; possible conflict triggers and pathways to war; the likely shape of such a war, by phases (conflict initiation, duration, and termination); and possible courses of hostile action against Australia (in the cyber, cognitive and kinetic domains).
  • Operational plans should be reviewed by the NSC, with the minister for defence leading on military defence, and the minister for home affairs on civil preparedness and national mobilisation. A new War Book should be prepared on the latter, covering, for instance, disruption of critical infrastructure and essential services, and cognitive warfare on national will and morale.
  • Australian-US operational planning should be overseen by the minister for defence and the US secretary of defense, under the auspices of AUSMIN, as political authority for such planning matters, with a view to ensuring that plans for the defence of Australia cohere with broader US operational planning. Consideration should be given to expanding such planning in due course, in the first instance through staff-level discussions with Japan, South Korea, the Philippines, Canada, New Zealand and possibly others.
  • The Australian Military Theatre should be formally established, led by an Australian allied force commander and based on clear boundaries, with flexible provision being made at the edges for selective forward force projection by the ADF in maritime Southeast Asia and the Central Pacific. A sea lane protection strategy should be developed, in accordance with the principles set out in the Radford/Collins agreement of 1951 (which should be urgently reviewed and updated).
  • The government should assure itself that the ADF could rapidly mount sustained around-the-clock operations in relation to the following key tasks in the Australian Military Theatre, and beyond as required:
    • situational awareness covering the sea-air approaches, the eastern Indian Ocean, maritime Southeast Asia, the Central Pacific, and the South Pacific, as well as relevant sea lanes, and offshore and undersea infrastructure;
    • sea denial (especially anti-submarine warfare) and sea lane protection;
    • air superiority and air defence, especially against long-range air threats;
    • strategic strike, especially for the purpose of denying sea-air access;
    • land operations, especially in remote northern Australia, with a view to defeating raiding forces, and in the littoral environment; and
    • key installation protection, including ports, airfields, and offshore and undersea.
  • Capability areas that would require urgent remedial effort, such as missile defence and possibly naval mine warfare, should be addressed, with a view to accepting force augmentation from the United States (as might be available), until such time as self-reliant solutions could be implemented.
  • Plans to rapidly activate ADF bases should be reviewed, especially in relation to the line of airbases that runs through Cocos (Keeling), Curtin, Tindal, Scherger and Townsville. Plans for base hardening and dispersal of the entire ADF should be similarly reviewed.
  • Mobilisation plans should be reviewed, covering logistics, war stocks, maintenance and sustainment (fuel supplies require particularly close attention). Rapid production and restocking agreements should be put in place, either with Australian firms, or as required within the context of allied supply chain and defence production arrangements.
  • A national cyber defence shield to protect critical infrastructure and essential services should be activated, based on real-time threat sharing, public-private cyber defence arrangements, and pre-agreed plans for the Australian Signals Directorate to lawfully act as required to defend the most crucial systems.

These and other efforts could be undertaken soberly and responsibly, without undue alarm being caused. Given the state of the world, a well-informed public would understand their necessity. These measures would be precautionary and defensive. At the same time, statecraft that is designed to reduce tensions and secure peace should, of course, continue to be pursued.

As Beazley would appreciate, there are many ironies to be found in this 40-year arc of policy. The United States avoided deep engagement in Australia’s defence in the 1950s and 1960s, when we sought its protection. Today, the strategic backwater of Australia has become a bastion for a US military strategy of denial. In the event that Australia and the United States were to decide to act together to meet the common danger of armed attack in the Pacific area, our forces would effectively constitute an integrated order-of- battle. The successful defence of Australia would for us be an existential act in our national interest. It would at the same time be a vital strategic objective for the United States, as a matter of its own hard interests.

Despite having opted for self-reliant defence in the 1980s, in a major war Australia would find itself having to rely to an uncomfortably significant degree on US force augmentation. This is the price of not building the force that we needed as the warning signs flashed, when we still had time to do so. Today’s force could well handle low level conflict. To that extent, the logic of the 1987 model holds true. A cold comfort, as no such conflict is in prospect.

Ironies aside, Beazley also has a keen sense of the tragic in world history. He is a strategic pessimist, seeing the world as it is. This includes an appreciation that there is an even darker possibility. If a well-armed major power, unchecked by the United States, were to decide that access to our resources or land, or both, would be in its interests, and that Australia would be useful to it in other ways, we would not necessarily have the strategic, economic, demographic and military means to preserve our sovereignty or stave off national subjugation. How we would defend ourselves were US primacy to fade gradually, or shatter suddenly, and how much military heft would Australia require in such a world? Beazley’s Principia would be the starting point for arriving at an answer, but perhaps we would need an Einstein to build on the Newtonian model, as Australia grappled with a completely different, and more hostile, power relativity.

No amount of astute diplomacy, skilful statecraft, or the building of regional architectures would offset the strategic shock and adverse ramifications of a world where US primacy was a memory, like that of British naval mastery and strategic preponderance in the nineteenth-century.

Beazley gave us the conceptual tools with which to formulate, and reformulate, Australian defence strategy. As in physics, so it is in defence—concepts have a long arc, and models are bequeathed for future use, and refinement. Beazley is modest, and so he will probably be embarrassed by this praise, but to adapt Alexander Pope on Newton:

The laws of defending Australia lay hid in night; God said, ‘let Beazley be’, and all was light.

In these darkening days, thankfully we have that light.

Editors’ picks for 2024: ‘Geopolitics, influence and crime in the Pacific islands’

Originally published on 14 March 2024.

Getting caught up in geopolitical competition may seem uncomfortable enough for Pacific island countries. What’s making things worse is that outside powers’ struggle to influence them is weakening their resistance to organised crime emanating from China. 

And that comes on top of criminal activity that’s moved into Pacific islands from elsewhere, including Australia, Mexico, Malaysia and New Zealand. 

This situation must change if peace and stability are to be maintained and development goals achieved across the region. 

The good news is that, Papua New Guinea excluded, Pacific island countries have some of the lowest levels of criminality in the world. The bad news is that the data suggests the effect of organised crime is increasing across all three Pacific-island subregions—Melanesia, Micronesia and Polynesia. 

The picture is worst in Melanesia and Polynesia, where resilience to crime has declined. In many cases, Pacific Island countries are insufficiently prepared to withstand growing criminal threats, exposing vulnerable populations to new risks. 

As China has gained influence in these countries, its criminals and criminal organisations have moved in alongside honest Chinese investors. Some of those criminals, while attending to their own business, are also doing the bidding of the Chinese government.  

If the criminal activity involves suborning local authorities—and it often will—then so much the better for Beijing, which will enjoy the officials’ new-found reliance on Chinese friends that it can influence. 

Democracies competing with China for influence, such as the US, Japan and Australia, are unwilling to lose the favour of those same officials. So, they refrain from pressuring them into tackling organised crime and corruption head on. The result is more crime and weaker policing. 

But more factors are at play here. Growing air travel and internet penetration have helped turn the islands into more accessible destinations and better-integrated points along global supply chains of licit and illicit commodities. 

When one starts mapping who is behind major organised criminality, the protagonists are almost always foreigners. The islands do have home-grown gangs but, when there is a lot of money to be made, there is usually the involvement of a Chinese triad, a Mexican cartel, a law-defying Malaysian logging company, or some similar criminal organisation. 

Groups that have entered the islands, such as Australia’s Rebels and New Zealand’s Head Hunters, both outlaw motorcycle gangs, or the Mexican Sinaloa drug cartel, are overtly criminal. Yet, some hybrid criminal actors are making their presence felt even more in some of the islands, and they are arguably even more pernicious and complex to eradicate. They tend to be foreign individuals who operate in both the licit and illicit economies, have become associated with local business elites, and enjoy political connections both at home and in the Pacific. 

As their operations have become bolder, as seen in Palau and Papua New Guinea, there are substantiated concerns that the perpetrators may be, or could become, tools of foreign political influence and interference. 

The poster boy of this cadre of actors is Wan Kuok Koi, aka Broken Tooth, a convicted Chinese gangster turned valued patriotic entrepreneur. Despite being sanctioned by the US, Wan has leveraged commercial deals linked to China’s Belt and Road Initiative and established cultural associations that have enabled him to co-opt local elites. He has also exploited links with the Chinese business diaspora to identify entry points for his criminal activities (such as establishing online scam centres) and has used extensive political connections to ensure impunity in his operations. 

Although they have a lower profile than Wan, many other foreign business actors are active across the region. They often gain high political access, preferential treatment and impunity through the diplomatic relations between their countries of origin (not just China) and the Pacific countries in which they operate. A further risk is that criminal revenues could also be channeled into electoral campaigns, undermining local democratic processes. 

These entrepreneurs have exploited favourable tax regimes, limited monitoring and enforcement capabilities and corrupted political connections. They often operate in extractive industries, real estate and financial services. 

As bribes pass from hand to hand, and as outside countries weigh their political considerations, Pacific citizens lose out. Some are vulnerable to labour and sexual exploitation at the hands of unscrupulous (and criminal) foreign businesses. Others see their lands, forests and waters degraded, or they are exposed to the introduction of new narcotics for which health services are unprepared.  

Fighting this transnational organised crime is critical to strengthening institutions in Pacific island countries and helping them build long-term sustainable prosperity. 

Outside countries should consider lateral approaches to crime fighting in the Pacific that may provide a framework for action that is more palatable to island-country governments than more sensitive, purely law-enforcement-driven strategies.  

Crime can be both a cause and an enabler of fragility and underdevelopment. With that in mind, the fight against crime and corruption could be framed as necessary primarily to address those two issues. They deeply impact Pacific populations, so it would be crucial to engage with affected communities along the way.

In the absence of such an approach, and with geopolitical and diplomatic considerations taking precedence, criminals will continue to exploit the limited attention that is paid to crime fighting and will profit as a result.

Expect stronger export controls in Trump’s second term

The incoming US presidential administration is likely to build on the use of export controls to hinder China’s access to advanced technologies and maintain the United States’ technological primacy. Its success will depend in part on persuading allies to help.

Trump has signaled that his second term will again feature protectionist, economic security-focused foreign policy. An indication of that continuity is his nomination of Jameson Greer as US trade representative, Robert Lighthizer’s former chief of staff.

The returning president’s approach to trade is likely to target critical sectors that underpin both military and dual-use applications, such as artificial intelligence, quantum computing, biotechnology, and energy-related technologies. As part of this broader technological industrial strategy, critical minerals and renewables could increasingly become targets of regulation, especially due to their growing importance in the clean energy transition and competition with China. This could affect Australian interests.

The US has increasingly sought to bolster its export control regime since Barack Obama launched the Export Control Reform Initiative in 2010, streamlining the regulatory process to focus agencies’ attention on items of greatest concern. Trump continued this approach more assertively, with the Export Control Reform Act of 2018 establishing a new permanent statutory basis for export controls. The act also created an interagency process to identify and impose additional restrictions on emerging and foundational technologies critical to US national security.

The US often exerts influence over global supply chains by exercising export controls unilaterally. For example, the Trump administration’s expansion of the Foreign Direct Product Rule restricted Huawei’s access to US semiconductor designs and finished chips, even if they were manufactured abroad using US-origin technology. The administration thereby effectively embargoed Chinese access to some critical technologies.

In addition to tightening US export controls on entities of concern, the Trump administration also encouraged partner countries to comply with existing regulations enforced through multilateral export control lists. For example, it persuaded the Dutch to enact domestic regulations that prevented ASML from selling advanced lithography equipment—critical for semiconductor manufacturing—to China.

The administration of President Joe Biden has continued the effort to strengthen the US export control regime by attending to regulatory loopholes through a series of export control packages. Biden has also tried to improve the effectiveness of export controls against China by engaging allies and partners in a multilateral collaborative approach. While this coalition-building attempt caused initial frustration for the Netherlands and Japan due to economic costs and lack of consultation, it ultimately reduced opportunities for Chinese entities to exploit regulatory gaps by increasing enforcement consistency across key technology producing nations.

Another round of controls announced this week builds on this approach with a more targeted scope shaped by lobbying from the semiconductor industry and negotiations with the Netherlands and Japan. The measures balance national security priorities against economic interests of allies and industry stakeholders.

To sustain this progress, the Trump administration will need to focus on two priorities: ensuring export control compliance from companies that rely on revenue from Chinese markets to drive innovation; and maintaining collaboration with allies to strengthen enforcement and close regulatory gaps.

Ensuring compliance from companies will require the Trump administration to build on mechanisms that deter violations while offering incentives for adherence to regulations. Compliance could be improved by clearer regulatory guidance paired with strict penalties for non-compliance and by initiatives to offset financial losses for companies reducing dependence on Chinese markets. Focusing on ways to maintain the economic viability of businesses while implementing strict export controls will be critical in protecting the competitiveness of the US technology industry.

The Trump administration could also deepen technical cooperation with allies through such mechanisms as joint regulatory frameworks and synchronised licensing procedures. Rapid coordination in these areas would prevent adversaries from exploiting delays or disparities between national systems, ensuring export controls deliver their intended impact effectively.

Recent Five Eyes cooperation on export control enforcement, primarily targeting Russia, demonstrates how intelligence sharing between allies is being used to prevent the exploitation of loopholes. Expanding this effort to focus on countering Chinese attempts to subvert export controls would create a more robust enforcement framework.

Additionally, facilitating joint investments in semiconductor manufacturing and critical minerals processing in allied nations could reduce global dependency on China while bolstering supply chain resilience. Offering alternative market opportunities in trusted nations would further incentivise domestic companies to comply with export controls and improve relations with allies.

Australia’s position as a leading supplier of critical minerals, including rare earths, places it at the center of potential economic security considerations. In a second Trump term, Australia may face heightened expectations to further restrict Chinese direct investment in critical-minerals projects. Opportunities to increase trade with likeminded partners and fortify allied supply chains can be facilitated through existing partnerships, notably AUKUS and the Quad, which both prioritise economic and strategic collaboration to counter shared challenges posed by China.

The US Air Force is redesigning itself

The Resolute Force Pacific (Reforpac) exercise will be the largest US Air Force non-combat deployment in many years, with more than 300 aircraft involved. The two-week exercise in mid-2025 will coincide with the multinational, biennial, all-domain Talisman Sabre training event.

But it is also an important step in a radical redesign of the force, USAF Chief of Staff General David W Allvin told the Air Force Association Mitchell Institute’s first forum on future airpower on 13 November—one that includes new definitions that remove familiar terms like ‘contested’ and ‘permissive’ from the service’s vocabulary and may change its acquisition goals.

Since the end of the 1990s geopolitical unipolar moment, when the United States faced no real adversary, Allvin notes, the air force has ‘crowdsourced the fight’ to support prolonged operations in low-threat environments, pulling small units from 93 locations ‘because we didn’t want to break the bases.’

Reforpac will draw large forces from fewer units, to provide more intensive and realistic training. It’s a concept, he said, that was battle-tested in part when the USAF reinforced its Middle East strength after the 7 October 2023 Hamas attacks on Israel.

As air force leadership and the new Integrated Capabilities Command carry forward a process called Force Design, Reforpac is designed generate real-world experience. To keep Force Design focused on results, Allvin says, every question ends with ‘in order to do what?’

One lesson is already emerging: the US Air Force may not be able to afford to structure itself entirely around high-end (read: stealthy) aircraft and systems—and it may not need to. ‘If there are systems there that are less lethal,’ Allvin says, ‘they are there so that we don’t grind the others down facing a cost-imposition strategy.’

An air force can use mass, with uncrewed systems, to impose cost, Allvin adds. ‘Mass may be about having assets that must be addressed, to deplete the adversary’s inventory.’ That’s the theory behind one new effort, a low-cost long-range missile named Project Franklin (because it must be respected) based on an Defense Innovation Unit platform design.

This means big changes in future force structure and equipment plans: for 30 years, since the Desert Storm campaign against Iraq, the end of the Cold War, and the inception of the Joint Strike Fighter program, the USAF’s destination has been an all-stealth force—yet that is still decades away, the last F-35 delivery having slipped into the late 2040s.

No conclusions have been reached—for an Air Force futures conference, the discussion was astonishingly NGAD-free—but Allvin set down some principles for force design. ‘This is a design for the changing character of war. New geostrategic patterns or a new national defense strategy can emerge, and I don’t want people to leave here thinking this is an Indo-Pacific force design.’

Allvin’s principles include:

‘Take back the offensive. You can’t retreat to long range. You have to be able to fight close in, where the partners are.

‘Speed is imperative. The adversary will put effects in immediately. There will not be an iron mountain’—the informal term for massive, centralised supply dumps—‘and we need to disrupt and deny early.

‘Solve for agility. We’ve shown too much hubris about our ability to predict the future, even in our own technology base.’

Terms like ‘denied’, ‘contested’ and ‘permissive’ get lost in arguments over their meaning, and, Allvin says, ‘when you add fractional orbital bombardment systems and cyber, everything is contested.’

In the new force design lexicon, detailed in a document released on 15 November, the air force defines ‘mission area’ capabilities needed to respond to three threat bands, according to density, complexity and distance as mission areas.

—Mission Area 1 (MA1) capabilities can ‘live within and generate combat power from the dense threat area which will be under constant attack’ from missiles or drones.

—MA2 capabilities ‘operate from the defendable area of relative sanctuary beyond the umbrella of most adversary ballistic and cruise missiles … and project fires into highly contested environments.’

—MA3 capabilities ‘create the flexibility and mass to span a range of potential future crises … with positions resilient to limited adversary attack.’

‘It would be great to have all-MA1 forces,’ Allvin said, ‘but it costs too much.’  That point was underscored by Deputy Chief of Staff for Air Force Future MG Joseph Kunkel, whose portfolio includes Collaborative Combat Aircraft (CCA) efforts: ‘If you plan for anything below MA1 as a lesser, included case, you have overkill in MA2 and MA3.’

The new concept is clearly aligned with CCA, but has implications in other areas. High-end platforms can be made more versatile. Doug Young, Northrop Grumman vice president of strike systems, noted that the open systems architecture of the B-21 bomber will support a wide variety of weapon loads, including mixed load-outs, and that the same capability is being retrofitted to the B-2.

The B-2, Young noted, could physically accommodate 240 GBU-39 Small Diameter Bombs, but that was ‘a mission management problem’ when the aircraft was initially developed. We can, he suggested, look at ‘different choices’ now. (Think of eight cruise missiles coming out of one bay and 120 Franklins from the other.)

That capability could be part of a ‘joint long-range kill chain’ concept revealed by Lieutenant General David Harris, deputy chief of staff for Air Force Futures. ‘We talked to the navy and realised we were both investing in the same stuff’ for long-range attack, Harris said, ‘and then we brought the Space Force in.’

Big ambitions. But Allvin’s immediate concern is that Reforpac can be funded, given the post-election turmoil in Washington. ‘I hope that we’re not on a continuing resolution next summer’—which occurs if no budget can be agreed on—‘so we can fund it properly.’

To work with US on climate, focus on national security and economic ‘value propositions’

Even as the US is set to withdraw again from the Paris Agreement, and potentially the entire UN Framework Convention on Climate Change process, Australia can leverage its partnership with Washington to continue its support for strategically important climate efforts.

To do so, Australia must emphasise that the value propositions for US investments in a climate-resilient Indo-Pacific region are based in US national security and economic interests. It is far cheaper to prepare for future impacts than to react to increasingly intense and concurrent disasters. These investments will also ensure a more stable region less influenced by China’s own, often competing, investments.

This is easier said than done, but the goal is to use the next four years to build global resilience to intensifying climate impacts. The strategic and moral imperative of that goal means doing everything we can with the hand we’ve been dealt.

Early indications of the Trump administration’s approach to global climate resilience can be gleaned from Trump’s cabinet preferences and the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 policy documents—if incoming officials do indeed heed them.

Ideologically motivated perspectives exist. This includes Trump’s choices for secretary of defense, Pete Hegseth, and director of national intelligence, Tulsi Gabbard, who have both recently attacked climate as a security issue. Similarly, Project 2025 is critical of most US climate efforts, and includes recommendations that would damage US leadership in climate science.

So how can Australia and likeminded countries mitigate these risks and grasp opportunities?

Regardless of how loudly the administration might attack climate change as an ideological issue, key prospective officials seem to understand its relevance to national security—both in geopolitical competition and in adaptation for future climate impacts.

The geopolitical dimension will likely be important to keeping the US engaged on climate issues. The proposed national security advisor nominee, Mike Waltz, has been vocal about risks of depending on China for clean energy, particularly for critical-minerals supplies. As secretary of state, it’s clear that Marco Rubio will focus on holding China accountable for its responsibility to rapidly reduce its outsized and growing share of global emissions.

The national security case for adapting to climate impacts—traditionally less politicised than emission reductions—will also be apparent, regardless of whether it’s framed with climate-specific language. Rubio and Waltz have acknowledged the need to build resilience to climate-amplified disasters. As Floridians, they’ve seen first-hand the devastating effects of intensifying hurricanes and sea-level rise.

Even Project 2025’s chapter on foreign aid agency USAID, while advocating a wholesale redistribution of sources and engagement in the provision of aid, and cutting climate strategies and programs broadly, still says ‘USAID resources are best deployed to strengthen the resilience of countries that are most vulnerable to climatic shifts’. While it’s unlikely that an administration following Project 2025 will provide any support for multilateral climate finance programs, it could continue delivering bilateral and minilateral climate resilience investments.

Australia may have more in common with the US on climate than is apparent on first look, particularly with officials such as Waltz and Rubio. The Australian government will disagree on a broad range of issues with the new administration, including criticisms of climate science, the need for emission reductions, and the link between climate and national security.

We do not have the luxury of time to align on every issue, however, so we must advance mutual climate interests for the sake of a more resilient future. Identifying the specific areas where US national interests align with climate resilience can help deliver regional assistance where it’s needed most.

Many defence assets are exposed to climate impacts. Rising disasters at home and abroad will continue to distract the US military and its partners). Ignoring this will diminish military readiness and capability of the US and partners in the Indo-Pacific amid rising regional tensions.

Indo-Pacific geopolitics are sensitive to both climate impacts and investments in resilience. Pacific islands have long identified climate change as the greatest threat to their security. The US and partners such as Australia cannot take Pacific nations’ support for granted if they are left to deal with climate impacts on their own. They will increasingly turn to offers of support from alternatives, including China.

Southeast Asian countries are also vulnerable to climate impacts. The Philippines has just been hit by a sixth typhoon in a month, bringing this year’s total to 16—double the yearly average. As the Philippines’ secretary of defense noted at an event hosted by ASPI on 11 November, the annual cycle of responding and rebuilding after increasingly intense typhoons is costly.

He noted that this cycle affects the resources available for military priorities. He emphasised the importance of communicating the ‘value proposition’ for US support for the Philippines’ climate resilience. He referred not only to the strategic value of preparedness for military confrontation with China, but also the economic benefits of the Philippines acting as a hub for logistics and subsea cables.

This line of analysis will surely resonate with Rubio as secretary of state, who penned an essay in 2023 arguing for the importance of the US supporting the Philippines as it grappled with an increasingly threatening China in the South China Sea.

Advancing the economic value of climate resilience should also resonate with US national interests, as should the threat of losing out on the economic benefits of leading clean energy industries. The US is far behind China as the world’s largest producer of renewable energy technology. Australia should emphasise the need for the US to catch up on critical-minerals and clean energy supply chains to benefit economically and avoid economic coercion.

This administration will pursue policies that Australia and others will disagree with. These partners must ensure that US actions strengthen global and regional stability, not weaken it further—whether in its approach to ongoing geopolitical tensions, or future humanitarian crises. They must emphasise that the best way to minimise future risks includes reducing emissions, strong climate science, and investments in adaptation.

They can do so knowing what will resonate most with influential voices in the incoming administration.

This will be difficult, but not impossible. Success in climate policy requires coordinating broad coalitions around limited resources regardless of how dire the trends may seem, and how difficult progress may be.

This next four years will be no different.

A task for Trump: stop China in the South China Sea

For more than a decade, China has been using an increasingly aggressive hybrid-warfare strategy to increase its power and influence in the strategically important South China Sea. Countering it will be one of the defining challenges for US president-elect Donald Trump’s incoming administration.

Chinese President Xi Jinping’s Chinese dream of global preeminence depends significantly on achieving dominance in the South China Sea and ending America’s primacy in the Indo-Pacific region, an emerging global economic and geopolitical hub. And China has not hesitated to use coercive tactics in service of these objectives.

In recent years, boats belonging to countries whose territorial claims China disregards, such as the Philippines and Vietnam, have faced blockades, ramming, water-cannon attacks, and even bladed-weapon assaults by Chinese vessels. Offshore energy operations endure frequent harassment. Simply fishing in waters that China calls its own can expose a person to a Chinese attack with iron pipes. Such violent confrontations have heightened regional tensions and undermined stability in a crucial corridor linking the Pacific and Indian Ocean.

One might have expected the United States to take action to rein in China’s behavior, especially given its mutual defense treaty with the Philippines. And yet, three successive presidents—Barack Obama, Trump, and Joe Biden—have failed to offer anything beyond statements of support and symbolic action. In 2012, Obama allowed China’s brazen seizure of the disputed Scarborough Shoal from the Philippines to go unpunished.

This was hardly the first time the US had failed to live up to its defense commitments to the Philippines. In 1995, the Philippines requested US help to block Chinese forces from capturing Mischief Reef, just 129 nautical miles from the Philippine island of Palawan. US President Bill Clinton, smarting over the termination three years earlier of America’s right to maintain military bases in the Philippines, refused. Mischief Reef is now an important Chinese military base.

The more China has got away with, the bolder it has become. Following the capture of the Scarborough Shoal, Xi embarked on a land-reclamation frenzy, creating 1300 hectares of land in the South China Sea, including seven artificial islands that now serve as forward operating bases. China has built 27 military outposts on disputed islands, which now bristle with short-range missiles, reconnaissance gear, radar systems and laser and jamming equipment. Its larger islands also feature aircraft hangars, runways and deep-water harbors. By unilaterally redrawing South China Sea’s geopolitical map, China is ensuring that it is uniquely positioned to project power in the region.

Even as China has gradually eroded the Philippines’ security, including Philippine control of areas within its exclusive economic zone, the US has continued to underscore its ‘ironclad’ defense commitment to its ally. Late last year, the Biden administration affirmed that any armed third-party attack against the Philippine military, coast guard, aircraft or public vessels ‘anywhere in the South China Sea’ is covered by the US–Philippines Mutual Defense Treaty. Yet China remains unpunished—and undeterred.

What explains this yawning gap between rhetoric and action? First and foremost, the US fears escalation, especially when its resources and attention are being consumed by the wars in Ukraine and the Middle East. Moreover, the US prefers not to weigh in on sovereignty disputes in the South China Sea, where it has no territorial claims of its own. It has not even taken a position on the sovereignty of the Japanese-administered Senkaku Islands, which China also claims.

The US has, however, made clear that its security treaty with Japan covers those islands and cautioned against ‘any unilateral action that seeks to undermine Japan’s administration.’ It should do the same for the Philippines, stating unequivocally that its treaty commitment to the country covers any efforts to compel a change in areas currently under Philippine administrative control, including Second Thomas Shoal, which China has been attempting to besiege.

In support of this stance, the US could cite the 2016 ruling by an international arbitration tribunal that China’s territorial claims in the South China Sea have no legal basis and that Chinese actions within the Philippine exclusive economic zone violated the Philippines’ sovereignty. But China’s open contempt for that ruling should dispel any hope that the South China Sea’s future will be decided by international law, which is why the US must be prepared to back up such a statement with action.

If the US does stand up for its treaty ally, it can take advantage of the nine Philippine naval and air bases to which it has gained access within the last decade, two of which are located just across from Taiwan and southern China. If it does not, China will continue to solidify its dominance over the South China Sea, thereby cornering the region’s rich energy and fishery resources and gaining the ability to disrupt supply chains and punish countries for acts it deems unfriendly.

China will not stop at the South China Sea. Under Xi’s leadership, China has used a similar combination of deception, bullying, coercion and surprise to expand its territorial control elsewhere, from the East China Sea to the Himalayas, sparing not even the tiny country of Bhutan. As with any bully, the only way to stop China is to confront it with a credible challenger. The US must be that challenger, and it should start by defending the Philippines.