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13 February | Jennifer Parker * Originally published in ASPI's The Strategist on 12 February 2025 Image of HMAS Hobart: Daniel Goodman/Department of Defence . Attack missile boats are no substitutes for the Royal Australian Navy’s major warships, contrary to the contention of a 4 February 2025 Strategist article . The ships are much more survivable than attack boats and can perform long-range operations that small vessels cannot. In the article, the author argues, for example, that a single missile hit could cripple a billion-dollar warship. In fact, this is highly unlikely. The planning for the number, type and direction of travel of missiles needed to successfully engage a warship is a tactical art. The calculations are classified, but the Salvo Equation is an unclassified means of understanding how many missiles must be fired to damage a major warship, such as a destroyer or frigate. The number is greater than most people assume. The debate on warship survivability isn’t new, and it remains paper-thin. Warships are designed to float, move and fight. As the RAN’s Sea Power Centre describes , they are survivable ‘through layered defence systems, signature management, structural robustness and system redundancy’. Just because a missile is fired doesn’t mean it will strike, and even a strike doesn’t ensure the ship is disabled. It’s true that threats to warships close to coasts have increased, and the proliferation of uncrewed aerial vehicle, uncrewed surface vessels and anti-ship missiles has made operations more complex. However, as offensive threats evolve, so do defensive capabilities, tactics and procedures. This is the dance of naval warfare. To bolster the flawed claim that warships are ‘increasingly vulnerable in modern conflicts’, the article points to the 42-year-old, poorly maintained Russian cruiser Moskva , which Ukraine sank in the Black Sea in 2022, as a ‘most advanced warship’. Yet far more modern US, British and French warships have repelled more than 400 Houthi missile attacks in the Red Sea since 2023 without sustaining damage. Fourteen months of Red Sea operations show that well-armed warships with trained crews are highly effective. The article conflates strategy with concepts, saying ‘the urgency of shifting Australia’s naval strategy to distributed lethality cannot be overstated’. Think of a naval strategy as the big-picture plan for what a nation aims to achieve at sea with its naval capability (as opposed to maritime), while a naval concept is the theoretical framework that explains how its navy might actually fight and operate to achieve those goals. ‘Distributed lethality’ fits within the established concept of Distributed Maritime Operations , which isn’t about any particular category of vessel, large or small; it’s a way of fighting that emphasises massed effects through robust, networked communications that allow for dispersal of maritime units. At its core, it’s a network-centric, not platform-centric, concept—as applicable to a fleet of frigates and destroyers as to smaller craft. It’s a concept the RAN, at least in theory, has already embraced. In a 2024 speech on Distributed Maritime Operations, Fleet Commander Rear Admiral Chris Smith said ‘distribution as a core concept of our operations … seeks to manage a defensive problem while seizing an offensive opportunity’. Australian naval strategy: reach and balance In advocating for a shift towards attack boats, the article dismisses their limited range and endurance as problems that are easily fixed. They are not: range and endurance are fundamental to Australia’s naval strategy and central to the concept of reach. At its core, reach is the requirement for a maritime power to be able to protect its vital interests at range from its territory. As an island nation dependent on long sea lines of communication for essential seaborne supply—from fuel to fertiliser, ammunition and pharmaceuticals—Australia needs an ability to protect critical imports and exports. Doing that requires the combination of sensors and weapons that cannot fit into an attack boat: heavy and bulky towed-array sonars, large radars mounted high, long-range air-and-missile defence systems, and helicopters for hunting submarines. Acceptance that Australia’s vital interests at sea are far from its coast is inherent in the roles ascribed in Australia’s National Defence Strategy . They include power projection, such as the capabilities of the Australian Army’s new amphibious fleet, which require protection that attack boats can’t provide. Limited endurance and operational range are deficiencies that cannot be mitigated by basing in northern Australia, as the article suggests. Territorial force posture such as northern operating bases cannot transform coastal green-water naval assets such as attack boats into the open ocean blue-water capability Australia requires. Another key strategic requirement for Australia is having a balanced fleet, anchored by larger destroyers and frigates. The essence of the idea of a balanced fleet is that a smaller fleet of ships must operate across the spectrum of maritime tasks. Attack boats cannot fight effectively in all three spheres of maritime warfare: surface, air and sub-surface. While they may complement frigates and destroyers where the budget allows, they are unsuitable to form the backbone of Australia’s fleet. The call for such vessels falls into the common trap of thinking that modern naval warfare is simply about missile capability. But what is needed to constitute a balanced fleet is a mix of capabilities that can be brought together only in a frigate or larger ship. This debate is an opportunity to highlight a crucial issue often overlooked in Australian strategic thought. The country needs a naval strategy with genuine reach and a balanced fleet, capabilities that simply can’t be met by a force built around attack boats.

3 February 2025 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Australian on 3 February 2025 Image: Image of Miraflores Locks on the Panama Canal: Rikin Kaytal/Unsplash . Donald Trump’s foreign policy priorities are coming into sharp focus: shoring up economic security, bolstering national security, and sending a clear signal to America’s allies and partners. One of those partners is Panama, a small Central American nation that happens to control one of the world’s most vital maritime passages. Of the many Trump proclamations this week, this is one that Australia, as a maritime nation, should pay attention too. Built by the United States in 1904 to connect the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, the 82km Panama Canal now handles around 6 per cent of global trade and 40 per cent of US container trade, underscoring its importance to both American interests and the global economy. As a nation heavily reliant on seaborne trade, Australia is particularly vulnerable to disruptions in global shipping routes. Consequently, even though only a small portion of its maritime trade travels through the Panama Canal, further disruptions to the Panama Canal would have an impact on the price of goods in Australia as the global supply chain would have to respond to the constriction of another key waterway. The Reserve Bank in its August 2024 report on monetary policy noted the maritime trade freight costs had risen sharply in 2024 – this is predominantly as a result conflict in the Red Sea and a reduction in capacity of the Panama Canal due to drought. While the Reserve Bank stated that increased freight costs haven’t translated into higher goods inflation in Australia, if sustained, it could – demonstrating the impact to disruption of maritime trade on Australia’s economy. So, what exactly are Trump’s proclamations? He has threatened to seize back the Panama Canal – by force if necessary – claiming it’s under the control of Chinese soldiers and that Panama is gouging US ships with exorbitant transit fees. While his claims are demonstrably false, his underlying concern is not misplaced. Maritime infrastructure is crucial to the economic and national security of countries such as Australia and the US. Australia learned this lesson too late in 2015 when it rashly leased the Port of Darwin to Landbridge, a Chinese-owned company, for 99 years. Much as Darwin is vital to Australia’s security, the Panama Canal remains critical to America’s. The Panama Canal has been fully owned by the Republic of Panama since 1999, when the US transferred control under two treaties, one of which was a treaty of neutrality, requiring the canal to remain in neutral hands – stating that if it did not, the US reserved the right to defend the canal with military force. Despite the canal being under Panamanian control, companies from China and Hong Kong have acquired key port facilities on both its Pacific and Atlantic entrances. On the Atlantic side, China-based Landbridge Group, the firm that leased Australia’s Darwin Port, took control of Margarita Island, Panama’s largest port. Meanwhile, Hong Kong-owned CK Hutchison Holdings – which wholly owns Hutchison Ports Australia, operator of terminals in Sydney and Brisbane – holds concessions to operate the ports of Balboa and Cristobal, the canal’s major Pacific and Atlantic gateways. While CK Hutchison Holdings is Hong Kong-owned, the national security laws that were introduced in Hong Kong in 2020 could allow China to exercise influence over these ports. China’s national security laws can require companies, including Hong Kong companies, to assist the Chinese government in in­telligence gathering and military operations. This means that even though China does not directly control the Panama Canal, it still holds significant sway at both its Pacific and Atlantic entrances. Coupled with a major uptick in Chinese investment in Panama – underscored by Panama’s decision to join China’s Belt and Road Initiative in 2018 – this port ownership provides China with a strategic foothold in the region, and specifically at ­either end of the canal. This is part of a broader trend of Chinese investment in maritime trade routes, including in the Indian Ocean – think Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Pakistan, to name a few. This foothold grants China significant influence over the Strait of Malacca, the Strait of Hormuz, and other vital shipping lanes in the region. China has poured resources into Pacific ports, such as those in the Solomon Islands. The point is that China is investing heavily in infrastructure that underpins global maritime trade. Under its national security laws, the companies driving these investments – some of which are state owned or have close ties to the Communist Party – could be compelled to use them for intelligence gathering or even military purposes. In the event of heightened strategic competition or conflict, these investments would allow for the targeted constriction of maritime trade to countries such as the US and Australia. Despite Trump’s threats, it’s unlikely the US would opt to take the canal by force. But Australia should take notice. While Trump’s claims of Chinese soldiers controlling the Panama Canal are false, the concern over China’s increased control of port infrastructure globally, including at each end of the canal, should generate concern for a maritime trading nation such as Australia.

06 January 2025 | Jennifer parker *Originally published in The Australian on 6 January 2025 Image: HMAS Stalwart replenishing HMAS Brisbane in the Philippine Sea in 2023: Daniel Goodman/Department of Defence . The past year brought a renewed focus on Australia’s deteriorating security situation and maritime capability. Despite the maritime emphasis in Australia’s 2024 defence announcements, the country remains far from being adequately positioned to defend its extensive sea lines of communication, subsea cables and broader national interests at sea. With a federal election approaching, the next Australian government must invest in our navy, address the capability gaps and make timely decisions on future capability. In the past 12 months, the oceans on which we depend for our protection and prosperity have experi­enced a dramatic deteriora­tion in security terms, unseen in recent decades. Globally, from the Black Sea to the Red Sea, maritime trade is under pressure. Europe has experienced further attacks on critical maritime infrastructure , including subsea cables – the backbone of internet connectivity. Closer to home, we’ve witnessed escalating aggression from China’s coastguard, which regularly has attacked Philippine vessels in the West Philippine Sea . Australian sailors have been placed at risk, most recently when a People’s Liberation Army aircraft inexplicably deployed flares in front of an Australian helicopter operating in international airspace. This is not simply a canary in the coalmine; it means the breakdown of global norms. If a conflict arises in the Indo-Pacific, it will be inherently maritime in nature and we will be compelled to fight with the capabilities we currently possess. In February 2024, the government announced a historic expansion of the surface combatant fleet; the destroyers and frigates of the Royal Australian Navy equipped with offensive and defensive weapons including missiles and torpedoes. But this expansion is not expected to materialise until the 2030s. During the past 12 months there has been an integration of new missile capabilities in the navy’s small fleet. Announcements have included the acceleration of ships for the army, and key achievements in training, treaties and export controls to support Australia’s acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines. In fact, 38 per cent of Defence’s Integrated Investment Program across the next decade will be directed towards maritime capabilities. These developments are positive, but they have not shifted the needle in the near term to address Australia’s vulnerabilities in the maritime domain. Australia’s surface combatant fleet has been reduced from 11 to 10 with the decommissioning of HMAS Anzac because of its age. The mine-hunting fleet also has been diminished , leaving only two vessels remaining after a mid-year decision to cancel their replacements. Australia’s two tankers – critical for replenishing fuel, food and ammunition for naval ships – have been laid up for most of 2024 because of defects. Additionally, much of Australia’s hydrographic capability, vital for surveying beneath the surface of the water, has been decommissioned, leaving only one ship in operation. The list goes on. These issues are the product of decades of delayed and indecisive decision-making, compounded by a lack of investment. The increasing frequency of attacks in the maritime domain, coupled with the absence of strategic warning time for a potential regional conflict, highlights the urgent need to address Australia’s waning maritime power. This is not simply a nice-to-have but an essential requirement for an island nation when global security norms are being redefined. In 2025 a timely decision on Australia’s future frigate design will be critical to achieving the planned 2029 delivery of the first of 11 frigates. This decision must prioritise the option that minimises delivery risks, ensures operational capability by 2029 – or sooner – maximises commonality with existing Australian systems and offers the design flexibility to accommodate future upgrades. We must be even bolder than this. While the thought of another review may make us groan, the next government must conduct a thorough assessment of our broader naval and maritime capabilities. If we acknowledge that we’re not currently equipped to protect our trade routes or subsea cables, we must critically examine the composition of the wider fleet – not just the surface combatants but also our mine warfare, hydrographic, amphibious, replenishment and clearance diving capabilities. Finally, we must confront the difficult conversation about investing to deliver these capabilities at speed. While the current government has made the first substantial increase to the defence budget in nearly a decade – projecting defence spending to rise from the current 2 per cent of GDP to 2.4 per cent by the end of the next decade – this will not be enough to revitalise our defence, particularly our naval capabilities. During the Cold War, Australia consistently spent an average of 2.7 per cent of GDP on defence, with spending exceeding that level during major naval recapitalisation efforts. If Australia is truly facing its most complex and challenging strategic environment since World War II, as outlined in the 2024 National Defence Strategy, we cannot afford to continue underinvesting.

30 November 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Australian Financial Review on 30 November 2024 While the relationship must progress, glossing over the facts and real risks is dangerous – Canberra and Beijing are far from ready for closer defence ties. Image: I mage: Anthony Albanese /X. On the tenth anniversary of the Australia-China comprehensive strategic partnership this week, Chinese ambassador to Australia Xiao Qian praised recent improvements in bilateral ties, declaring the relationship “back on track”, and advocating for closer defence co-operation. This call to restore defence ties is unrealistic at best. At worst, it ignores the realities of the relationship. While China has lifted most of its coercive tariffs on Australian industries , its regional aggression and support for Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine preclude a renewed defence partnership. The relationship must progress, but glossing over the facts and real risks is dangerous. Australia and China are far from ready for a closer defence relationship. Such relationships require strategic trust and China’s actions erode rather than build it. Globally, China continues to enable Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine through its no-limits partnership – trade between China and Russia is at an all-time high. Regionally, China continues to destabilise the South China Sea through aggressive tactics, including ramming and water-cannoning the Philippine Coast Guard and government vessels. China is crucial to Australia. It is both our largest trading partner and a regional great power. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, Australian strategists embraced the idea of China’s peaceful rise and dedicated significant effort to building strategic trust and strengthening ties, including in defence. While the defence relationship was never comprehensive, it grew through collaboration in humanitarian disaster relief exercises, low-level land-based activities and increased naval ship visits. This activity culminated in China’s participation in Exercise Kakadu, Australia’s premier multilateral maritime exercise in 2017. This increased interaction was underpinned by senior-level defence dialogues. Shifting strategic environment In the early 2000s, Australia was optimistic about the future of its relationship with China, This optimism led Australia to overlook China’s island-building activities in the South China Sea and the subsequent militarisation of these islands with airstrips, radars, and missile sites from 2013 to 2018. All of this occurred despite President Xi Jinping’s assurances that China would not militarise the South China Sea, through which two-thirds of Australia’s maritime trade transits. For some time, Australia was reluctant to acknowledge the shifting strategic environment and avoided publicly addressing China’s actions even as Australian ships, along with those of our partners and allies, faced growing harassment. Australia also endured foreign interference and suspected cyberattacks from China. Ultimately, Australia was compelled to confront China’s regional aggression, which directly impacted its national interests and undermined institutions it has long championed, including international maritime law. The 2020 Defence Strategic Update identified China’s regional actions as a dramatic shift in the threat environment. It eliminated strategic warning time from defence planning, acknowledging that Australia could no longer assume it would have at least a decade to reorder our defence posture. This implicitly – although not explicitly – acknowledged the risk of miscalculation or conflict driven by China’s aggression. After years of deterioration Australia publicly revealed China’s harassment of Australian Defence Force assets in 2022. In February of that year, a Chinese fighter jet deployed chaff in front of the engines of an Australian patrol aircraft in international airspace over the South China Sea. In May 2022, a Chinese destroyer in the Arafura Sea, within Australia’s exclusive economic zone, endangered ADF personnel by shining a military-grade laser into the cockpit of an Australian P-8 maritime patrol aircraft. These actions continued to erode strategic trust – and risk ADF lives. Relations thaw After winning the 2022 federal election, the Labor government prioritised re-engagement, recognising the relationship’s importance and the need to prevent further deterioration. This was a vital step – Australia must maintain a functional relationship with China where it can. However, we cannot ignore actions that threaten our national interests. After relations thawed in late 2022, Australia and China resumed defence ties with the Senior Leader Defence Co-operation Dialogue in March last year. In November, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese visited China, the first Australian leader to do so since 2016. In his meeting with Xi, the two reaffirmed their commitment to the Comprehensive Strategic Partnership and stressed the importance of stability in their bilateral relationship. Yet within a month, a Chinese destroyer aggressively confronted an Australian frigate in international waters, violating international law and injuring Australian sailors. This behaviour is not an anomaly. In May this year, a Chinese fighter again endangered Australian sailors by deploying flares in front of HMAS Hobart’s helicopter while it was undertaking United Nations sanctions enforcement against North Korea in international airspace, later blaming Australia for the incident. Chinese officials often frame challenges in the China-Australia relationship as driven by third parties, particularly the United States . However, China’s use of force to uphold its debunked nine-dash line claims against coastal states like the Philippines directly impacts Australia’s national interests. In many ways, closer Australian defence ties with China would be seen to endorse these behaviours – something Australia cannot afford to do. Closer to home – China’s actions towards Australia must be addressed and amended for closer defence ties – an outcome not yet apparent. While increased communication and the resumption of talks through the Defence Co-operation Dialogue are valuable, a mature relationship requires China to change its behaviour – until then, the notion of a “back on track” defence relationship ignores the serious strategic challenges posed by China’s actions.

25 November 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in The Strategist on 25 November 2024 Image: HMAS Larrakia in Darwin Harbour: Leo Baumgartner/Department of Defence . The maritime domain is increasingly contested. From attacks on shipping and undersea cables in Europe to grey zone threats in the South China Sea, risks to maritime security are mounting. China’s use of maritime militias and reports last week of a China-flagged tanker breaking subsea cables highlight the blurred lines between civil and military threats. With the third-largest exclusive economic zone in the world, Australia must ask itself the question: is our maritime security architecture ready to deal with the increased threats? My new paper Time for a Coastguard with the Australian Naval Institute argues it is not and it’s time to consider setting up an Australian coastguard. Australia differs from many of its Southeast Asian, Indian Ocean and Pacific neighbours in not having a coastguard. Several agencies execute Australia’s civil maritime functions. Notably, the Australian Maritime Safety Authority coordinates Australia’s maritime search and rescue functions, while the Maritime Border Command (MBC) coordinates and executes Australia’s civil maritime security operations. MBC is a multi-agency taskforce under the Department of Home Affairs that relies on Australian Defence Force and Australian Border Force (ABF) assets in executing its role. Importantly, the MBC does not have its own assets or personnel; instead, its structure relies on support from the relevant maritime security agencies. This is an important distinction, as the MBC is often referred to as ‘like a coastguard’ or a ‘de facto coastguard’. However, the similarities are limited: it is fundamentally a coordination body. Staffed primarily by personnel from the ADF and ABF, the MBC directs assets from those forces. The Defence Strategic Review recommended that ‘Defence should be the force of last resort for domestic aid to the civil community, except in extreme circumstances.’ Relying on the ADF for maritime constabulary work is another example of resorting to it for civil functions. The ABF maritime unit workforce is about 550 personnel, and it presently has 11 patrol vessels, one large-hull vessel and two fast-response boats. To assist in its maritime surveillance role, the ABF leases 10 Dash 8 aircraft and two helicopters. This is a small civil maritime footprint for a country with the third-largest exclusive economic zone in the world. There have been reports of billion-dollar warships being used for constabulary functions. The MBC drawing on Royal Australian Air Force aircraft is just as inappropriate—for example, when $250 million P-8A Poseidon aircraft designed for anti-submarine warfare are needed for supplementing ABF aerial surveillance. Not only is this uneconomical, but it will not be feasible in the event of regional crisis or conflict. The National Defence Strategy is clear that the ADF must be focused on high-end warfighting. Compounding the MBC’s over-reliance on the ADF is the structure and capabilities of the ABF’s maritime element, which has regularly struggled to meet government-directed targets for sea patrol days and aerial surveillance hours, among other issues. Maritime security trends in the region suggest these pressures will only intensify, placing more strain on the current structure. The ABF, as a law enforcement organisation, has been unable to develop the expertise needed to maintain maritime capabilities and execute complex maritime operations. In most regional countries, these responsibilities fall to a coastguard paramilitary organisation. Despite the secrecy surrounding Australia’s maritime border operations, there has been enough anecdotal media reporting to show that the structure has not worked effectively. This includes reporting on concerns around professionalism , maintenance issues and capacity . The ABF is a civilian law enforcement organisation that lacks the capability, flexibility and training to manage the nature of grey zone and hybrid maritime threats that Australia will likely face. This is a different level of threat than traditional law enforcement and will require different capabilities and skillsets. The answer is not simply bolstering the maritime unit of the ABF through increased funding. The structures of the ABF maritime unit are not such that they could readily support such an increase in capability, as it was not designed or trained to undertake the full burden of civil maritime security roles in the absence of the ADF. The MBC multi-agency command structure relies on ADF skillsets that could not easily be replaced by a bolstered ABF maritime unit. A complete restructure would be required—a coastguard. Given the reduction in warning time for crises and the increasing complexity of maritime security threats, it is time to rethink Australia’s maritime security structure. My paper Time for a Coastguard advocates for a layered defence model, including the establishment of a coastguard to address Australia’s civil maritime security and maritime home defence. This would enhance our capabilities while relieving pressure on the RAN and ADF. We must address Australia’s maritime security structural issues now to strengthen our maritime resilience.

5 November | 2024 *Originally published in The Strategist on 5 November 2024 Image: ADF Careers bus: Department of Defence . The Australian Defence Force is missing an opportunity in shifting the focus of its recruitment drive away from the three armed services and onto the ADF as a whole. By doing so, it’s failing to make use of services’ separate traditions as attractions to potential recruits. The former chief of the defence force General Angus Campbell told Senate estimates in February that the ADF was 4,308 personnel below its approved strength. In that context, ADF Careers in July launched its new recruitment campaign — Unlike any other job. Spruiking the benefits of joining the ADF, the flashy campaign splashed across social media. But there’s a problem: people don’t join the ADF; they join one of the services. They join either the Royal Australian Navy, Australian Army or Royal Australian Air Force, each of which has unique traditions, service life and a proud history of defending Australia. The recent career advertisements, while slick and well produced, fail to tap into the core motivations that have driven Australians to serve for generations. Joining the navy, army or air force isn’t just a career move; it’s a commitment to a legacy of service and sacrifice. The July 2024 ADF careers campaign came 12 months after the decision to rebrand recruiting from service specific—navy, army, air force recruiting—to ADF Careers. The amalgamation of the service recruiting functions, while an efficient use of resources, represents a wider trend within the Department of Defence of reducing the influence of the individual services. The erosion of the authority of the service chiefs has added to a more bureaucratic structure and slower decision-making. But it’s the loss of service identity in the recruiting process that will be most problematic for an ADF attempting to grow to its greatest numbers since World War II. This issue is not without precedent. The Canadian Armed Forces, in a well-meaning effort to streamline and modernise, unified the navy, army and air force into a single entity in 1968. The result was a loss of identity and tradition, which contributed to a decline in morale and recruitment. It took Canada more than four decades to reverse that decision; it officially reinstated separate branches in 2011. The lesson is clear: when military institutions distance themselves from their traditions and core values, they risk losing the very qualities that attract people to service in the first place. Australia’s military has, until now, been largely immune to such missteps. The navy has its proud maritime legacy linked to battles such as the Leyte Gulf or Savo Island, the army its deep ties to land campaigns such as Gallipoli and Kokoda, and the air force its history of contributing to air superiority in theatres ranging from Europe to the Pacific. Those traditions are not just history; they’re living parts of what it means to serve. While it’s important for the ADF to adapt to modern challenges, it must do so without losing the traditions that make each service unique. The recruitment shortfall in the ADF today isn’t due to a lack of attractive offers. Defence salaries are competitive, benefits are strong and the opportunities for career advancement are significant. But none of that will resonate with young Australians if the message of service is diluted. What the current advertisements fail to communicate is the sense of purpose that comes with wearing the uniform. That message, embedded in the traditions of the navy, army and air force, is what will inspire a new generation to enlist. Canada’s decision to reverse unification of its services in 2011 was more than a symbolic gesture. It was an acknowledgement that the essence of military service lies in the identity that comes with being part of a distinct organisation. Reintroducing the separate services helped to restore the pride and tradition that had been lost. For Canada, the price of unification and efficiency had been the erosion of the very things that gave the military its soul. By reinstating the navy, army and air force as separate entities, Canada not only boosted morale but also reconnected its armed forces to the traditions that had historically been their source of strength and purpose. The ADF should heed that example. The ADF’s strength lies not only in its modern capabilities but in the traditions that have shaped its identity. Young Australians aren’t just looking for jobs—they’re searching for meaning and purpose. They want to be part of something that matters. If the ADF is to reverse its recruitment decline, it needs to shift the narrative. The focus must return to the traditions and values that make the navy, army and air force unique. As Australia faces an increasingly complex strategic environment, the importance of a strong, capable and motivated defence force can’t be overstated. The lessons from Canada’s failed unification experiment are clear. When military institutions lose sight of their traditions, they risk losing their identity—and, with it, the ability to attract and retain the people they need. For the ADF, the path forward is not to abandon tradition in favour of efficiencies under the motto ‘One Defence’ but to find a way to honour the past while preparing for the future.

14 October 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Australian Financial Review on 14 October 2024 The loss of a New Zealand naval vessel reflects the same decline of niche maritime capability that Australia suffers from. (Image: HMNZS Manawanui on an anti-drug patrol before its loss off Samoa.   New Zealand Police) It is rare for a developed nation’s Navy to lose a big vessel in peacetime. The sinking of the 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. HMNZS Manawanui was the only mine warfare and hydrographic survey vessel in its 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. The HMNZS 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. A conflict in the Indo-Pacific is no longer a distant hypothetical. The justification for cancelling the mine warfare ship program was that autonomous systems would replace the capability. However, without a platform 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 its 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 capabilities now could leave the country dangerously exposed in the event of a maritime crisis. The under-investment 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 per cent of GDP, is simply not enough to tackle the issues. Major recapitalisation While the figure in nominal terms might be historic, in real terms as a percentage of GDP, it is low – particularly at a time that 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 per cent of GDP, and 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 per cent 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 the 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. If there is an immediate lesson to be learned from the Manawanui’s sinking, it is that failure to invest in naval preparedness will not just weaken our ability to respond to crises; it also weaken our ability to deter one. Investing in preparedness is our national security insurance policy. Australia must take this as an opportunity to rethink investment in naval preparedness – while our strategic circumstances draw parallels in our Defence strategy to Word War II – our Defence spending does not.

August 16 2024 | Jennifer Parker * Originally published in Lowy's the Interpreter on 16 August. Settling on a definition of an overused buzzword is the first step for Australia to ensure successful military partnerships in Southeast Asia. Image: HMAS Broome conducts a boarding exercise during Exercise Cassowary with Indonesia 2024 held off the coast of Darwin, Northern Territory. Photo Credit: Defence Images The rise of minilaterals, quadrilaterals, and other groupings in the Indo-Pacific have become increasingly important to the regional security architecture. However, a significant challenge to what Australian Defence Minister Richard Marles has described as this “ latticework of partnerships ” approach is the ability bring together the military elements of these groupings in the event of a crisis – whether in response to a disaster or a regional conflict. This “interoperability” is key to military relationships. However, unlike organisations such as the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation, which have agreed-upon frameworks and generalised strategic alignment, the Indo-Pacific latticework approach lacks the necessary functionality. The omnipresence of the word interoperability in military diplomacy at times overshadows its true meaning. The challenge for Australia then becomes to define interoperability in the context of its relationships in Southeast Asia, to determine how can it be harnessed and enhanced. This means being deliberate about setting Australia’s goals, understanding the likely common missions, and the boundaries of the relationships. Being specific and deliberate about the nature of interoperability is important. It has become common parlance for politicians, diplomats and Defence personnel alike to list a key outcome of an exercise or working group activities as one of “interoperability”, or as Marles has done previously been “ interchangeable ”. But the omnipresence of the word interoperability in military diplomacy at times overshadows its true meaning, which in turn can distort important aspects of military engagement that should be the focus. The term interoperability is not unique to the military setting, but even within the defence realm it is often poorly defined. NATO defines interoperability as the “ ability to act together coherently, effectively and efficiently to achieve Allied tactical, operational and strategic objectives ”. The challenge in applying this definition to Australia’s relationship with Southeast Asian nations is that the operational and strategic objectives may not always align, and it occurs outside the framework of an alliance. Australian military doctrine places a greater emphasis on “systems” defining interoperability, as the “ ability of systems, units or forces to act together, to provide services to or from, or exchange information with partner systems, units or forces ”. With its technical emphasis, this definition focuses on the ease in which information can be exchanged, such as the ability to pass data or undertake classified communications. Doing so is predicated on a commonality of communications networks along with high level agreements regarding the sharing of secrets. These elements can be achieved in an inter-service or even in an alliance scenario. But this is less applicable to Australia’s relationships in Southeast Asia. For one reason, many of Australia’s most prominent Southeast Asian partners – such as the Philippines, Vietnam and Indonesia – acquire their systems from a vast array of partners, some including Russia and China. For Indonesia, the diversity of defence acquisition sources is considered part of the policy of non-alignment. By focusing on shared mission sets and realistic goals for collaboration, Australia can build more meaningful and effective operational partnerships in the region. A more fitting definition of the interoperability sought between Australia and its Southeast Asian partners might emphasise a shared familiarity. This means agreeing at the political level on the mission sets and scenario planning, which can be unique to the relationship or grouping where the goal is being pursued. Interoperability exists on a spectrum – it’s not a binary measure, fully interoperable or not, but rather it occurs in varying degrees. The Royal Australian Air Force breaks these degrees down to the areas of deconflicted, compatible and integrated , and this approach would have broader applicability to kind of military interoperability sought between Australia and Southeast Asian countries. These can serve as aspirational goals within the agreed mission sets or operational scenarios. “Interchangeability” implies something more, yet there is no publicly available Australian military definition for it. NATO defines interchangeability as “ the ability of one product, process or service to be used in place of another to fulfil the same requirements ”. But for Australia, this kind of ambition is most likely to be achieved with alliance partners such as the United States and New Zealand. It is unlikely to be achieved in the context of the latticework approach to the Indo-Pacific, or in Australia’s current, bilateral or minilateral relationships in Southeast Asia. But by focusing on shared mission sets and realistic goals for collaboration, Australia can build more meaningful and effective operational partnerships in the region. Australia cannot define interoperability as a one-size-fits-all solution, but as a flexible, context-driven approach, tailored to the specific needs and challenges of its Southeast Asian partners.

11 October 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in Lowy's the Interpreter on 11 October 2024 Ukraine’s effective strategy in the Black Sea offers a masterclass in how a smaller, determined naval force can challenge a much larger one. Image: Mobile launcher for the Neptune missile, which sank the Russian cruiser “Moskva”. (Wikimedia Commons) Ukraine’s bold naval campaign against Russia in the Black Sea offers crucial lessons for Australia. Despite facing a far superior navy, Ukraine has used innovative tactics, rapid adaptation and modern technology to disrupt Russian operations in the Black Sea. Although Australia’s geography differs from that of Ukraine, the lessons from Ukraine’s sea-denial campaign are highly relevant. For Australia, a nation reliant on the sea for both trade and security, these insights are invaluable. However, it’s crucial that we focus on learning the right lessons and applying them effectively to our unique maritime environment. Ukraine’s ability to challenge a dominant naval power in a contested sea demonstrates that, with the right strategy and capabilities, Australia can safeguard its own maritime interests. Sea denial Ukraine has implemented a highly successful strategy of sea denial, the ability to deny an adversary’s maritime freedom of manoeuvre. Although Australia’s geography differs from that of Ukraine, the lessons from Ukraine’s sea-denial campaign are highly relevant. Ukraine has used its geography to maximum effect, leveraging the semi-enclosed nature of the Black Sea to disrupt Russian naval operations. For Australia, strategic chokepoints such as the Sunda and Lombok Straits hold similar importance. In any regional conflict, denying access to these waterways would significantly hinder adversary movement. China is heavily reliant on key chokepoints such as the Malacca Strait. By developing a deployable capability, Australia could apply the lessons from Ukraine’s sea denial strategy to these critical areas. By targeting Russia’s maritime capabilities at greater than 300 nautical miles, Ukraine has dramatically extended the range that its land-based forces can influence Russian maritime operations. Uncrewed aerial vehicles (UAVs) and surface vessels (USVs), as well as cruise missiles, have meant that a force operating from the land can successfully attack naval forces at sea well beyond traditional coastal boundaries. Australia can draw a parallel by accelerating the acquisition of the Army’s land-based maritime strike missile capabilities . However, Ukraine’s example also highlights the need for Australia to broaden its focus beyond land-based systems. Australia has a strong capacity to build small craft and UAVs, and mobilising this capability to develop armed USVs and UAVs for rapid deployment in chokepoint protection could significantly enhance the ADF’s capabilities. Projecting Australian power Australia’s geography differs from Ukraine’s in a key way: our seas are not enclosed. If Australia’s maritime domain becomes contested, sea denial alone will not be enough. Australia’s dependence on seaborne supply, the provision of fuel, ammunition and more across the seas, will require Australia to have a broader maritime strategy than that enacted by Ukraine in the Black Sea. The vast coastline and open ocean environment require a strategy that includes limited sea control and power projection, with the resources to carry out these tasks. This means that, in addition to investing in maritime strike capabilities for coastal and chokepoint protection, Australia must maintain traditional assets for sea and air control far from its shores – submarines, warships, replenishment vessels, and aviation assets. A further lesson from the Black Sea can be drawn from the sinking of the Russian cruiser Moskva , despite that vessel’s technological superiority . The Moskva was sunk by two Ukrainian Neptune anti-ship missiles – a threat which the cruiser, designed for anti-air warfare, should have easily countered. However, poor crew preparedness and maintenance failures in its defence systems resulted in defeat to a relatively simple threat. This highlights a critical point: ship readiness and posture can determine the outcome of naval engagements. Ukraine has dramatically extended the range that its land-based forces can influence Russian maritime operations. For Australia, this is a reminder that having a well-prepared, flexible fleet is just as important as having the latest technologies. Ships must be ready to respond quickly, with crews trained for high-intensity operations. Agility, rather than sheer size, will be key to Australia’s naval effectiveness in any conflict. Ukraine’s employment of USVs has been significant but USVs can be defeated, as we have also seen in the Black Sea. This balance between capability and counter-capability is essential in modern naval warfare. Australia must ensure its maritime forces strike this balance effectively. Offensive capabilities should be developed alongside defensive measures, including electronic warfare systems, enhanced sensor networks, and robust ship survivability. The ability to rapidly counter evolving threats, whilst also embracing new capabilities such as USVs for offensive operations, will be key. Ukraine’s effective sea denial strategy in the Black Sea offers a masterclass in how a smaller, determined naval force can challenge a much larger one. For Australia, these lessons are clear. Sea denial in key chokepoints, enhanced ship posture and preparedness, a balance between offensive and defensive capabilities, rapid adaptation, and the protection of trade and ports are all essential to safeguarding national interests. However, Australia’s vast maritime geography also requires a strategy that goes beyond sea denial. Should its maritime domain become contested, Australia must be ready to achieve limited sea control and project power over vast distances. This will require an adaptable, highly capable navy, prepared for the full spectrum of naval warfare in an increasingly contested Indo-Pacific.

4 October 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in The Australian on 4 October 2024 Image: This picture shows projectiles being intercepted by Israel near the northern city of Baqa al-Gharbiya For much of its recent history, Australia has had the luxury of seeing conflict as a distant event, experienced by most through television, computer screens or newspapers. However, while the recent escalation between Iran and Israel might seem remote, Australia cannot afford to be complacent . The lessons from this escalation should serve as a stark warning for Australia – and the Australian public must take notice. The normative behaviours that have underpinned the global world order are fraying. This was clear when Russia illegally invaded Ukraine in 2022. It was clear when China’s People’s Liberation Army air force deployed chaff in front of Australian aircraft in international airspace in 2022 and 2024. And it is abundantly clear with the launch of hundreds of Iranian missiles against Israel for the second time in six months. While global or regional conflict involving Australia is neither inevitable nor probable, the fraying of international norms, the latest example of which is Iran’s ballistic missile attack , makes the trendlines clear: the likelihood of conflict in Australia’s region is increasing as international norms break down. In this fraying of the international world order, China may seek to seize the opportunity to invade Taiwan as China’s internal economic situation deteriorates. Its increased aggression towards The Philippines in the South China Sea may result in a miscalculation that quickly sparks a broader conflict. Or North Korea, the nuclear pariah, could launch an unexpected nuclear strike on South Korea – just as it surprised the world with its torpedo attack on a South Korean warship in 2010, killing 46 sailors. These scenarios are not probable; however, until 2024, neither was Iran launching hundreds of ballistic missiles at Israel. If the key lesson for Australia from this week’s Iranian missile attack on Israel is that the erosion of global norms increases the likelihood of conflict, the second lesson is that Australia must contemplate the nuclear implications of this increasingly unstable world. Underpinning the dynamics in the Middle East is the estimation that Iran may be on the path to becoming a nuclear weapons state. Whether Iran has made this decision, and exactly how long it would take to achieve such a capability, are unclear. What is clear is that Iran is failing to comply with International Atomic Energy Agency inspections. Its strategy of engaging proxy forces across the region is being broken down by Israeli attacks in Lebanon, Syria, Gaza and Yemen – and it may well be resorting to a new strategy – a nuclear weapons strategy. The taboo around the proliferation of nuclear weapons is cracking. The thought that a country such as Iran, willing to launch hundreds of ballistic missiles at Israel, may shortly acquire nuclear weapons is chilling. But it may also have wider implications, sparking increased proliferation of nuclear weapons across the Middle East and globally. A nuclear-armed Iran could prompt Saudi Arabia and other countries to pursue their own nuclear capabilities. This situation may increasingly strain the successful 44-year-old Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. Meanwhile, North Korea continues to develop its nuclear capabilities, the South Korean public increasingly debates the benefits of nuclear weapons, China accelerates its nuclear weapons program, and Russia regularly threatens the use of tactical nuclear weapons, further eroding the nuclear taboo. As Australians watch footage of Iranian ballistic missiles being intercepted over Israel, they must recognise that the threat of nuclear war is also rising, with increasing proliferation of nuclear weapons and a diminishing threshold for their use. The trendlines from the escalating conflict in the Middle East resonate in Australia’s backyard. The threat of conflict involving Australia is no longer negligible and may carry nuclear implications. So, what does this new reality mean for Australia? First and foremost, it means we must double down on diplomacy, continue our proud tradition as a leader in multilateral and mini-lateral forums, strengthen communication with China to understand its position, and shine a light on the erosion of global norms, including China’s aggressive behaviour from the maritime to the cyber domain. But we must do more than this; we must focus on preparedness, engage in difficult societal conversations and invest in defence. Yes, the current government has announced record investments across the Defence portfolio, but the funding comes too late. Defence lacks the necessary resources, and Australia lacks the capabilities it needs. While terms such as “Iron Dome”, Israel’s missile defence system, have entered common parlance, the truth is Australia does not have the same ability to protect its cities and critical infrastructure. Australia would not be as successful as Israel in intercepting hundreds of ballistic missiles, should our region turn to conflict. As the Australian public witnesses the graphic images of Iranian ballistic missiles targeting Israel, we must heed the warnings about the changing world order. Australia must not only double down on diplomatic efforts to prevent conflict, it must also engage the public. We must have the difficult conversations to ensure we can develop a prepared and resilient society – resilience that will strengthen our deterrence. We must enhance our defence capabilities to deter conflict and protect our interests if necessary. Complacency is no longer an option for Australia.

28 August 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published with the United States Studies Centre on 28 August Breaking down the figures of Australia’s ambitious nuclear-powered submarine project and debunking the myths of cheaper alternate capability options. Image: Chief of the Nuclear Powered Submarine Taskforce Vice Admiral Jonathan Mead AO, RAN, Minister for Defence Industry, the Hon. Pat Conroy MP, Australian Deputy Prime Minister, the Hon. Richard Marles MP, Minister for Defence Personnel, the Hon. Matt Keogh MP, and U.S Rear Admiral Richard Seif on board United States Navy Submarine USS Asheville during a visit to HMAS Stirling, Western Australia Australian ambition to acquire nuclear-powered submarines is not a new concept. From a strategic, operational and tactical perspective, it makes sense, given Australia’s vast maritime domain and extensive maritime vulnerabilities. Aside from the obvious hurdle of United States support, the question has always been one of opportunity cost, or put crudely, ‘bang for buck.’ Cost of nuclear-powered submarines To address the ‘bang for buck’ question, you must start with the ‘buck’: how much will Australia’s acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines cost? If yelled into a press pack, you would quickly hear the answer $368 billion — but that answer would be wrong. Cost comes in many forms: impacts on workforce, infrastructure, defence industry and timeframes are all encompassed in the ‘cost’ of the project. But let’s talk monetary cost for a moment — the eyewatering $368 billion initial price tag. It’s tempting to argue that you can acquire a B-21 for just under a billion dollars, 1 yet we are paying $368 billion for 8 submarines. This is an emotive comparison, but it is one that is invariably wrong. For want of a better analogy, its comparing apples and oranges. A key problem with discussion around defence project costs is that the arguments are almost invariably comparing different metrics. To understand cost, it is critical to understand key variables, including the time period it is over and whether the costed amount includes sustainment, infrastructure, workforce costs etc. These are seemingly mundane but exceptionally important issues. So with that in mind — what does the government’s quoted $368 billion dollars cover? Significantly, the projected cost of Australia’s nuclear-powered submarine pathway is not $368 billion dollars — it’s $244.7 billion over a period of 31 years from 2023-24 to 2054-55. 2 The difference between the $244.7 billion and the quoted $368 billion is a $122.9 billion contingency figure, representing 50% of the project. Contrary to the persistent comments that $368 billion dollars is likely an underestimate, it is in fact a deliberate 50% overestimate. Every defence project in the Integrated Investment Program (IIP) is allocated a contingency. Contingency amounts are effectively unfunded reserves that can be drawn on with approval should an ‘unforeseen’ event occur. 3 Think of them as a margin applied for project risk. Most defence projects in the IIP are assigned between 5-10% contingency. DEF 1, the project name for Australia’s plan to acquire nuclear-powered submarines has been assigned a 50% contingency. This means the risk is acknowledged in the funding profile. Contrary to the persistent comments that $368 billion dollars is likely an underestimate, it is in fact a deliberate 50% overestimate. 4 Does this mean that costs won’t change? No — AUKUS is highly complex and the cost estimate spans 31 years, so the notion of identifying the ultimate cost with certainty is laughable. But it does mean that the risk has been accounted for to date. The amount of $244.7 billion accounts for much more than the acquisition of 8 submarines. It includes the whole of program costs — like workforce, infrastructure, regulatory requirements, and the cost of sustaining these submarines and their supporting facilities until 2055. This is important to understand because, when critics argue that Australia should acquire B-21 Bombers at a cost just under a billion dollars an aircraft 5 or a French Barracuda class conventional-submarine at $2.5 billion per submarine, 6 the quoted price for alternative capabilities doesn’t include the cost of the whole program or the cost of sustaining that program. Is AUKUS eating the defence budget? When it comes to cost, long term costs are invariably less reliable. So, whilst it’s important to put the often quoted ‘$368 billion’ dollar figure into perspective, a more accurate assessment is the cost over the near to medium term. Delivery of the submarine optimal pathway is costed at a window of $53-63 billion dollars from 2024-25 to 2033-34, including acquisition, sustainment and supporting infrastructure. 7 The breakdown of this figure is not publicly available, but reportedly contains whole of program costs, including those entailed with both the execution of Submarine Rotational Force West (SRF-W) and the delivery of the first Virginia -class submarine. These 2 capability milestones are significant because they debunk the erroneous claims that AUKUS won’t deliver submarine capability for 40 years. 8 Whilst it’s important to put the often quoted ‘$368 billion’ dollar figure into perspective, a more accurate assessment is the cost over the near to medium term. In response to the 2023 Defence Strategic Review (DSR), the announcement of the AUKUS submarine optimal pathway and the planned expansion of the surface combatant fleet, the current government announced in May 2024 that it would increase the Australian defence budget by $50.3 billion over the decade. 9 The 2020 Defence Strategic Update (DSU) agreed a defence budget growth profile of 5-6% per annum, which would have equated to an uplift of approximately $716.4 billion over the decade. 10 The uplift in the defence budget announced in May 2024 will provide for defence spending of $765.4, providing approximately an additional $49 billion beyond the DSU growth profile over the next 10 years. 11 The Attack-class submarine program that preceded AUKUS was expected to cost approximately $30 billion over the next 10 years. 12 The nuclear-powered submarine optimal pathway costs an additional $33 billion over the same timeframe. The increased defence budget committed to by the current government more than accounts for the gap between the planned Attack-class spend and the AUKUS submarine optimal pathway. Overall, the AUKUS Pillar 1 spend over the total decade roughly accounts for 7-8% of the defence budget. 13 Defence’s most expensive project, yes — but eating the defence budget? Hardly. This isn’t to say that the defence budget is adequate or increasing in the right timeframe — it just means that AUKUS Pillar 1 isn’t consuming the defence budget. Of course, the acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines won’t address all of the Department of Defence’s capability issues — but that’s a different conversation. But are there cheaper alternatives? Well — yes, but not any that would deliver the same degree of capability and control over those capabilities that Australia desires. There has been a plethora of alternatives put forward. Proposed alternatives include outsourcing the functions required of Australian submarines to a permanent UK and US presence, effectively giving up Australia’s ability to operate submarines becoming a “pit stop power”; 14 acquiring 40 conventional submarines; 15 acquiring B21 bombers — the list goes on. Some have suggested ceasing the acquisition of submarines altogether and investing in combatting climate change, healthcare and education. There is neither space, nor the desire to breakdown every proposed alternative here, so I’ll address some key elements. Australia’s 2020 DSU, 2023 DSR and 2024 National Defence Strategy, alongside the strategic documents of Australia’s allies and partners, have one thing in common: a recognition that the world order is changing rapidly and that conflict in the Indo-Pacific, although not inevitable, is increasingly possible. Whilst national social welfare and combatting climate change are incredibly important, they will not protect Australia’s national interests in a worsening strategic environment. On the outsourcing question — it is simply not logical that Australia, an island nation, would outsource its maritime security. There is a reason Australia has established its submarine service 3 times in its history; every time we have considered foregoing the capability it has become apparent that they provide an asymmetric advantage for a maritime nation. There is a reason Australia has established its submarine service three times in its history; every time we have considered foregoing the capability it has become apparent that they provide an asymmetric advantage for a maritime nation. The argument that the current capability plan to acquire nuclear-powered submarines should be replaced with the acquisition of B-21s or additional conventional submarines is a dangerous one. AUKUS, whilst in essence a capability transfer pact, is also central to Australia’s deterrent signalling. The signalling effect of AUKUS cooperation has been palpable, marked by China’s extensive efforts to release misinformation about the pact and lobby the International Atomic Energy Agency to obstruct it. Whatever its risks, right now Australia’s plan to acquire nuclear-powered submarines is on track. 16 Whilst it may not always remain so, changing course without a catastrophic failing of the plan would fundamentally undermine the signalling element of AUKUS and the trust Australia’s AUKUS partners hold in Australia. Submarines provide a vast array of capabilities from intelligence to surveillance and reconnaissance to mine-laying to maritime strike to land-strike to anti-submarine warfare. In the maritime domain they are unrivalled. Whilst acquiring B-21s could substitute some of the strike elements of submarine operations, they would fail to fulfill the remaining functions. Could a series of capabilities address the spectrum of these functions? Maybe. But not with the versatility of submarines and there is no guarantee that a collection of these mythical capabilities would be cheaper. This is not to say that Australia should not invest in long-range strike options such as B-21s, but it should not do so at the expense of submarines. As for the suggestion of a greater number of conventionally powered submarines, a number of challenges make this proposal imprudent. Major impediments would include crewing, industrial capacity to build them or buy them in a strategically relevant timeframe, and most significantly, the likelihood of this being a more expensive approach than the AUKUS pathway. The unique nature of Australia’s maritime domain and the distances and depths involved mean that Australia cannot just operate any submarine, invariably it needs to be larger and more capable than the average conventional submarine. Australia’s operating environment is dramatically different to that of submarine producing countries like Japan and Germany. Let’s remember — Australia went down the path of attempting to acquire 12 conventional submarines from France. This was not orders of magnitude cheaper than Australia’s planned acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines. At the time of cancellation, the acquisition cost for the French Attack-class submarine was listed as $90 billion, which did not include sustainment, supporting facilities or a contingency allocation. 17 The life of type sustainment costs until 2080 were quoted as $145 billion, but again this did not include supporting costs such as infrastructure and workforce. 18 The nuclear-powered optimal pathway is costed at $244.7 billion until 2055. The Attack-class fleet of conventionally-powered Barracuda submarines was costed at $235 billion until 2080, but this was known to be an underestimate. 19 With rough maths you can see that increasing an order like this from 12 to 40 conventional submarines would be no cheaper than Australia’s nuclear-powered submarine pathway and clearly unsustainable from a workforce perspective. 20 Capability speed The Attack-class program with all its challenges was due to deliver its first submarine in 2036 and its final submarine in 2054. 21 Under the nuclear-powered submarine optimal pathway, Australia will have Australian sailors and officers operating from HMAS Stirling in US and UK submarines from 2027. This is of course not ideal, as the tasking of SRF-W will not be controlled by Australia. However, from a wider regional perspective, SRF-W will have a net regional effect far earlier than the previously planned 2036 timeframe of the first Attack-class submarine. Under the optimal pathway, Australia will be operating two Virginia -class submarines, with a third on its way, before the first Attack-class submarine was due to be delivered. The optimal pathway will provide a capability quicker than Australia’s abandoned plan to acquire conventional submarines, and most certainly quicker than any new plan could deliver at this point. So, does the current optimal pathway provide ‘bang for buck’? Australian-owned and operated submarines are critical to Australia’s defence as a maritime nation. The current plan, whilst expensive and risky, is presently on track and delivers capability to service earlier than any prior plan. Whilst it is more expensive than the Attack-class project, it is not orders of magnitude more expensive nor is it ‘eating’ the defence budget. At this point in the journey, it certainly does provide ‘bang for buck.’

27 August 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in The Australian on 27 August 2024 Image: Indonesian Defence Minister and President-elect Prabowo Subianto with the Prime Minister of Australia, The Hon Anthony Albanese MP and Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Defence, the Hon Richard Marles MP speaking at a press conference at Parliament House in Canberra. Source: Defence Images In recent years the defence relationship between Australia and Indonesia has developed significantly, with a range of more complex activities occurring between the two countries. The enhancement of the relationship will shortly culminate in the signing of a treaty-level Defence Cooperation Agreement, one Richard Marles labelled as “profoundly historic”. The Indonesia-Australia defence relationship is critical to Australia’s defence. Geography is an unalterable truth. When Australia looks north, it sees Indonesia. But when Indonesia looks north it doesn’t see Australia. The relationship is important, but it will never be as close as Australia would wish. Australia must understand the constraints of the relationship, work within these constraints and avoid representing it as something it is not. In the joint media statement last week Anthony Albanese and Marles spoke of “strong defence co-operation” and “strengthening interoperability”, while Indonesian President-elect Prabowo spoke of “more Australian participation in our economy” and Australian assistance in “agriculture, food ­security”. The difference in language between the two countries is important. It is symbolic of the differences in how both partners view the relationship. Dramatic fluctuations have been the hallmark of the relationship since Indonesia’s independence, and will remain a feature of the relationship. Both countries have a very different strategic focus, alignment, outlook and development priorities. Efforts like the DCA can help to smooth out the bumps in the relationship, but they will not fundamentally change it. The agreement joins a long list of defence-related strategic deals between Australia and Indonesia, commencing with the ill-fated 1995 security agreement. That arrangement committed the partners to consult in the event of “adverse challenges to either party or to their common security interest”. In many ways, this, the first treaty of its kind ever signed by Indonesia, was “profoundly historic”; the DCA, while significant, is less so. Indonesia cancelled the 1995 agreement in light of Australia’s 1999 United Nations-endorsed International Force East Timor intervention. The cancellation of the 1995 security treaty is not a blip in the history of the relationship, but an example of the limits of a relationship between two countries with different strategic priorities. These priorities have been on show since the landslide election of the outward-looking Prabowo. Prabowo, who will assume the role of Indonesian president in October, chose to visit China in his first international visit since the 2024 Indonesian election. It would have been much quicker to hop on a plane to Australia. Prabowo’s symbolic visit to China was followed in July by a visit to Russia, his fourth in four years. During his visit, Prabowo sought support from Putin to help Indonesia develop a civil nuclear industry, while requesting that Russia’s Defence Minister, Andrey Belousov, provide technology to develop Indonesia’s defence industry – a sentiment that would not have been lost on Australian politicians and officials at the May Shangri-la dialogue in Singapore. In his speech to the audience, Prabowo avoided condemning the illegal Russian invasion of the Ukraine. Indonesia is fiercely non-aligned, and while it courts close friendships with its neighbours like Australia, there will always be limits to the strategic depth of the relationship. Indonesia is desperate to develop its infrastructure and broader economy. This was made clear in the joint press conference announcing the completion of negotiations of the Defence Cooperation Agreement. While Australia talks defence, Indonesia talks development. Australia must recognise the realities of the relationship and avoid overreaching or trying to push Indonesia too far on operationalising the security relationship. It is perhaps Australia’s desire to operationalise the defence relationship that has historically resulted in limited success, despite the plethora of defence-related agreements between the countries, high-level talks and military exercises. Australia is of course right to court a closer defence relationship with Indonesia. Indonesia’s geographic position makes it central to Australia’s security. Not only does two-thirds of Australia’s maritime trade pass through the Indonesian archipelago, so would any prospective adversarial naval task group or air threat. Short of conflict, co-operation with Indonesia is critical to Australia’s ability to deal with a vast spectrum of civil threats, from irregular migration to terrorism. Even before the completion of negotiations for the DCA, the Indonesia–Australia defence relationship had reached a high point in recent years, with a greater number of exercises conducted between the two defence forces. No better case study exists for this than Exercise Keris Woomera, a bilateral amphibious activity that includes complex air, land and maritime training between Australia and Indonesia as part of Australia’s Indo-Pacific Endeavour regional deployment. The defence relationship between the two countries has grown substantially in recent years, and the signing of the new DCA will give it a renewed vigour. Australia and Indonesia should be proud of these achievements. But Australia must remain cognisant that Indonesia matters more to Australian security than Australia does to Indonesian security. Australia must recognise the strategic limits of the relationship, listen to what Indonesia says its focus is and work within those boundaries to avoid pushing it too far and overestimating the nature of the defence relationship.