Oceania

Australia concludes China responsible for cyberattack; North Korean hacking groups sanctioned; Facebook heads to Washington; and U.S. blacklisting still hurting Huawei.

President Trump and Prime Minister Morrison’s close relationship is good news for the decades-old alliance.

Pacific island nations under threat from rising sea levels can translate geopolitical competition in the region into climate action.

Test your knowledge of Australia, from its system of government to its trade policy.

In elections last month, Australia’s Liberal-National coalition won a surprising victory, defying pollsters who had almost uniformly predicted that the Australian Labor Party would triumph. The coalition’s victory was chalked up, by many, to the unpopularity of Labor leader Bill Shorten, who has since resigned as leader of Labor, and the Australian electorate’s cautiousness—the coalition had overseen continued economic expansion, and Labor had proposed a bold agenda that might have alienated some voters. On domestic policy, the coalition’s victory likely presages continuity on key domestic issues like taxes. Morrison promised tax cuts before the election, for instance and seems likely to deliver them. But the impact of the coalition’s victory on Australian policy toward Southeast Asia is somewhat less clear. In the run-up to the election, as James Curran noted for Asia Unbound, the parties did not seriously debate foreign policy. On China and the United States, two of Australia’s three most important foreign relationships, Morrison seems to have a predictable approach, Curran wrote, but the Liberal-National coalition will find its policies challenged by regional and global dynamics—principally being pulled between the two giants—that could undermine Morrison’s attempt to have a coherent China policy. And in dealing with Southeast Asia and the Pacific, the coalition’s approach seems somewhat more muddled, although there are important reasons for hope. On Indonesia, Morrison is poised to move relations forward, and has already taken steps, since becoming prime minister last year, to solidify ties with Jakarta. In March, Indonesia and Australia signed a major free trade agreement, though it still has to be approved by parliaments in Canberra and Jakarta. This was a landmark in bilateral economic ties, and Morrison also went to Jakarta on his first international trip as prime minister last year. In making Indonesia his first destination for an international trip, Morrison demonstrated the high priority he placed on the Australia-Indonesia relationship, historically a fraught one. Although ties between Canberra and Jakarta cooled briefly last year after Morrison raised the idea of moving the Australian embassy in Israel, Morrison formally recognized West Jerusalem as Israel’s capital yet his administration ultimately opened a defense and trade office in Jerusalem, with little fanfare. The trade agreement, too, helped warm links again between Jakarta and Canberra. In his new term, Morrison is likely to push efforts to upgrade strategic ties with Indonesia, in addition to getting the trade deal passed through parliament. The bilateral relationship, like all of Indonesia’s foreign ties, also probably will benefit from more stability in Canberra, as Morrison’s election and new Liberal Party rules that make internal party spills more difficult should stabilize Australian politics and prevent the revolving chair prime minister problem that, in recent years, has unsettled regional allies. The opportunity for closer strategic relations between Australia and Indonesia certainly exists: As I noted in a Council Special Report last year, the Jokowi administration has become increasingly worried about Beijing’s approach to the South China Sea and other regional challenges. Indonesians overall also have declining favorable views of China. Indeed, Jakarta has moved closer to Canberra’s hawkish views about China’s military assertiveness, although Jokowi needs to woo Chinese investment so badly that he will be reluctant to truly alienate Beijing. Still, there is a substantial chance for Morrison to build on the Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Australia signed with Indonesia last year, such as by expanding bilateral joint military exercises or making the new Japan-South Korea-Australia-Indonesia exercises a regular practice. Outside Indonesia, admittedly Canberra’s crucial Southeast Asian relationship, the coalition’s policies are less clear. Morrison seems more focused on China, Indonesia, and the Pacific, traditionally an Australian sphere of influence but increasingly an area of Chinese dominance, than on Southeast Asia other than Indonesia. Morrison’s plan for a Pacific pivot is substantial, and he has already moved to make good on the strategy. His approach will balance China’s power in the Pacific, though the coalition’s general lack of action on climate change will potentially undermine Pacific ties. With mainland Southeast Asia, other than Vietnam, it will be difficult for the Morrison administration to convince any countries to go along with Canberra’s relatively tough approach toward China. And Canberra does not appear to have as clear a strategy toward mainland Southeast Asian states as it does toward the rest of the region. I will deal with Morrison’s approach to mainland Southeast Asia in the next blog post.

Welcome to “Women Around the World: This Week,” a series that highlights noteworthy news related to women and U.S. foreign policy. This week’s post, covering May 18 to May 28, was compiled by Rebecca Hughes, Alexandra Bro, and Rebecca Turkington.

James Curran is a professor of modern history at Sydney University. As the dust begins to settle on the stunning, unexpected result from the Australian elections over the weekend, the re-elected Prime Minister Scott Morrison will face once more the challenge of a turbulent strategic environment. Central to that task will be how he manages the relationship with a White House that is increasingly ratcheting up the pressure on Beijing across both the economic and security fronts. Morrison’s win owes much to the ruthlessly clinical scare campaign he ran against Labor leader Bill Shorten’s ambitious agenda for domestic reform, especially his contentious plans for the nation’s taxation system. The result means the prime minister has pulled off a miracle win that virtually no poll or pundit predicted even a few months ago, when the ruling Liberal-National Coalition was reeling from the combination of its decision to dump Malcolm Turnbull as leader and an ascendant Labor party seemingly cruising to electoral triumph. With the changes to party rules now making it much more difficult to remove sitting prime ministers, Morrison’s power within the Coalition appears likely to be impregnable. U.S. observers can be sure that there will be no more revolving doors of Australian prime ministers. During the election the parties’ respective positions on foreign policy were barely audible amidst the din of debate over tax policy and climate change. Such a state of affairs is not unusual for Australia: in the past 60 years only one election has been fought over foreign policy: that of 1966 in the midst of the Vietnam War.  Nevertheless, a troubled world awaits.  Since the 1970s, when both sides of Australian politics began in earnest the policy of comprehensive engagement with Asia, Canberra has been able to conduct its regional diplomacy largely in the knowledge that economic growth and prosperity did not necessarily have to come at the expense of strategic stability. The assumption that U.S. failure in Vietnam would precipitate a U.S. withdrawal from Asia proved a mirage, and when China’s economic rise began to accelerate in the 1990s, Washington retained military predominance in the region. The disruptive elements to this picture have been clear for some time: a United States that, while still active in the region, can no longer call all the strategic shots and is looking for its allies to do more, and a China steadily and intentionally making clearer its goal of achieving regional strategic predominance. Other powers too, especially India and Indonesia, are rising rapidly at the same time, with demographics on their side. Accordingly, the practice of Australian diplomacy has been getting harder. The one constant for Scott Morrison is that, issue by issue, it will get harder still. But according to early press reports there appears to be a palpable sense of relief in Washington that the Morrison government has been returned. Senior U.S. officials have told one Australian scribe that the election result is a bonus for the relationship: ‘We know what we are dealing with’, one said, ‘and we like it’. For his part President Trump tweeted an image of Morrison replete with a series of thumbs-up emoji and a sausage sandwich drenched in ketchup. On one interpretation, such imagery and words are the currency – even if in this case somewhat tawdry – of an alliance built around shared values and enduring bonhomie. A less generous interpretation would be that both Trump’s twittering and the officials’ comments show that the United States retains its longstanding tendency to take Australia somewhat for granted. Washington insiders will need to be careful, however, in jumping to quick or easy conclusions about just how Morrison will react to a U.S. China policy trending increasingly towards containment. This is a disturbing development for Australian leaders and policymakers. One of the nation’s most eminent strategic thinkers, the former head of foreign affairs Peter Varghese, has commented that in the event that trajectory in American policy continues, it would be “very uncomfortable for Australia…we could find ourselves confronting that possibility of having to say no to the U.S. on a matter that it considers to be a core national security interest”. On just which issues Australia would find itself compelled to say ‘no’ to Washington where China is concerned are, of course, not yet clear. But Morrison is unlikely to reverse the policy of both the Abbott and Turnbull governments on conducting freedom of navigation operations within the 12-nautical mile zone of contested territories in the South China Sea. Similarly, his government will continue to eschew the rhetorical armoury that comes with the kind of Cold War thinking articulated by Vice-President Pence in his speech on China to the Hudson Institute in October 2018. In Morrison’s first major address on foreign affairs in November last year, he repeated the call of his predecessors for the “peaceful evolution of our own region”, underlining the importance of U.S.-China relations not becoming “defined by confrontation”. Then, announcing what some dubbed a “Pacific pivot” – aimed at increasing Australian funding to its near neighbors in an attempt to rebut China’s growing influence there – Morrison nevertheless rejected any notion that it should carry a new ‘Cold War’ branding. The first two years of the Trump administration has seen Australia play a strong sentimental card in the bilateral relationship – witness the Australian incantation of “mateship” and military sacrifice as a means of catching the U.S. president’s attention. Morrison will have no trouble in giving renewed voice to those alliance shibboleths. But increasingly Australia, like other U.S. allies in the region, will need to play a different card in managing the alliance with Washington: namely that of the responsible ally that is not afraid to tell its great power protector what it might not necessarily want to hear. And here the task is to advise the United States on the folly of going down the containment path in dealing with China.  It is all very well for Australian governments to utter the soothing words about wanting to see a region still characterised by U.S. leadership. But it needs to make the case to Washington that the key to its ongoing strategic relevance in Asia lies not in recycling cold war dogma, but in Washington improving its own performance in the region. That’s going to be a tough argument to sell to an U.S. president repeatedly asking allies themselves to step up.

By Van Jackson New Zealand may appear to be a paradise in the Pacific, but it is afflicted by many of the problems facing other liberal democracies, such as a rising suicide rate and deep socioeconomic inequalities with no clear solution. To this list of shared problems, tragically, one can now add white nationalist terrorism. The terrorist attacks in Christchurch on March 15, in which fifty were killed and dozens more wounded, was the worst such attack in New Zealand history. Focusing on transnational strategic threats, and looking from New Zealand, policymakers generally have not viewed white nationalist terrorism as a strategic concern, though both New Zealand and Australia have histories of white nationalism, including long histories of exclusionary immigration laws. But the brand of terrorism that resulted in the massacre in New Zealand is a strategic threat, and one that has been a blind spot for New Zealand and the national security establishments of its Five Eyes partners—the United States, Australia, Canada, and the United Kingdom, whose bureaucratic-level intelligence sharing was established decades ago. The Five Eyes intelligence partnership among these five states has, over time, been effective in monitoring and responding to the challenges of the Cold War, the threat of Islamist terrorism, and more recently in managing the evolving strategic threat that China poses in the Asia-Pacific and other regions. The threat of terrorism from white nationalists, however, is in some ways a more dangerous threat than either of these challenges, simply because it has been largely ignored by policymakers. Terrorism from white radicals is a transnational threat. Similar attacks to the Christchurch killing have occurred in Canada, European countries like Norway and the United Kingdom, and the United States. More will come, and these extremists view themselves as part of a war that is only just beginning. A manifesto from one of the alleged New Zealand attackers says as much, but white nationalist groups in the United States have discussed the idea of a battle emerging around the world as well. Radical white nationalist terrorism has been a blind spot for the national security communities in many countries. Although law enforcement agencies like the FBI have highlighted the threat—the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security noted in a report in 2017 that white nationalist extremists had committed more attacks in the United States between 2001 and 2017 than any other group—policymakers still often have not taken this threat seriously enough. In part, national security leaders and politicians in many states may have ignored white nationalist terrorism as a transnational threat since white nationalists traffic in theories and ideas that echo rhetoric found in some more mainstream political circles. The extremists express shared beliefs about a white race under threat, the inferiority of other races and non-Christian religions, and other conspiracy theories. White nationalist terrorists are acting on ideas of hate that transcend borders, using technologies, like social media and live streaming, that transcend borders, and celebrating other white nationalist figures from around the world, to create an imagined future (of theirs) that they believe transcends borders. The national security communities of the Five Eyes countries need to work together to combat the transnational ideas and the technologies that can be used to turn extremist ideas into action, and ensure that mainstream politicians’ rhetoric does not dampen a meaningful response to this growing threat, or obfuscate its character. Yet while intelligence officials have noted that Five Eyes partners have created a massive intelligence sharing network regarding other types of transnational terrorism, they also have noted that this intelligence sharing has not generally extended to domestic terrorists and terrorist groups, even white nationalist ones. Indeed, intelligence officials told the Washington Post that while Five Eyes countries might tell a partner state about a potentially imminent terrorist attack by a domestic extremist in that other country, they do not routinely share information about domestic terror threats in partner states. Now, that must change. Van Jackson is a Senior Lecturer in International Relations at Victoria University of Wellington, the Defense & Strategy Fellow at the Center for Strategic Studies: New Zealand, and a Global Fellow at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars.

This week: Australia's parliament hacked; CrowdStrike's new report; Fancy Bear is back; and is the U.S. overplay its hand with Huawei?

By Elena Collinson A federal election is due this year in Australia. While the Liberal-National Coalition government has yet to formally announce a polling day, the stage has effectively been set for a May election. According to Australian law, May 18 is the latest possible date a federal election could be called. The opposition Australian Labor Party (ALP) is favored to win, having consistently polled ahead of the Coalition over the last year, at least, and having extended their lead in polls in the aftermath of Malcolm Turnbull’s ouster from the Coalition prime ministership in an internal Liberal Party leadership contest last year. Labor has made efforts over the last two years to articulate a comprehensive foreign policy framework, with cohesive public messaging on key issues—for the most part—by the shadow cabinet. This disciplined approach seems to augur for consistency and certainty in their public diplomacy should they win control of government. In his first major foreign policy speech on October 29, opposition leader Bill Shorten was emphatic about crafting a foreign policy that was clear-eyed about a changing world, and one that would “speak with a clear Australian accent.” Asked what this meant precisely, shadow foreign minister Penny Wong stated, “Confidence, independence, making sure that our primary focus, as always, is on Australia’s national interests.” Should the ALP win control of government, Shorten’s personal criticisms of U.S. President Donald J. Trump during the U.S. presidential election campaign and thereafter may present some difficulties in navigating the U.S.-Australia relationship. In October 2016, Shorten declared Trump “entirely unsuitable to be leader of the free world,” having earlier that year described Trump’s policies as “barking mad.” In January 2017, Shorten called the new president’s policy barring visitors from several Muslim-majority from entering the United States “appalling.” While some Coalition ministers had also publicly deployed colorful language to describe Trump during his candidacy, then Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull had refrained from wading in with comments. To be sure, leaked footage of Turnbull impersonating Trump during a speech to the Press Gallery Mid-Winter Ball—a closed-door equivalent to the White House Correspondents Dinner—emerged in June 2017, only a few months after Trump was inaugurated. However, the off-the-record speech was no serious attack in the public sphere on the American president, with Turnbull asserting that it was “light-hearted, affectionate, good natured.” Indeed, this assessment enjoyed some support from the opposition and seemed to be swiftly accepted by Washington with the U.S. embassy in Australia saying the footage was taken “with good humor that was intended.” Shorten’s unflattering comments about Trump might make for some initial awkwardness. As might comments by shadow defence minister Richard Marles, who said in October 2017, “An immigration system which overtly seeks to discriminate on the basis of religion is clearly repugnant. So pro-American advocates like myself are now in a position where on certain issues we will need to be deeply critical of the United States.” But any rift this may cause between the two countries is likely to be superficial. Shorten and the senior members of his shadow cabinet have articulated an “unshakeable” commitment to the U.S.-Australia alliance, terming it a “pillar” of the ALP’s foreign policy vision and “central to Australia’s strategic interests.” While stating that Labor would have no qualms “speaking truth to power” they have also demonstrated an intent to work in with others in the region “to ensure that the United States recognizes that it is integral to the region we collectively seek”. That said, trade issues will continue to be an irritant in the bilateral relationship so long as Washington continues to move away from the rules-based multilateral trading system. With respect to China, there is no immediate indication that the ALP’s approach will differ significantly from that of the current government. Criticisms from Labor of the government’s handling of the Australia-China relationship have predominantly centred on rhetoric, variously characterizing it as “disjointed megaphone diplomacy,” “Chinaphobic” and “unwise and provocative,” as opposed to disagreement on policy substance. On matters of national security the ALP have often been in lockstep with the Coalition, supporting legislation to counter foreign interference after revelations of growing Chinese influence in Australian politics, a ban on foreign political donations, and the decision to block Chinese companies Huawei and ZTE from involvement in the rollout of Australia’s 5G network. Labor has also been supportive of strategies to balance China’s regional rise, actively engaging in the push to forge closer ties with Pacific nations, and articulating a strong commitment to the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue. There is also general consensus between the two major parties on how to approach human rights issues as well—Wong has stated, for example, that the Australian government is handling the mass internment of an estimated one million Uighurs and other Muslim minorities in Xinjiang “the appropriate way” by enunciating Canberra’s concerns “very clear publicly and privately” but not immediately reaching for sanctions against Beijing. Shorten has also rejected the notion of “pre-emptively framing China as a strategic threat,” placing some distance between the Labor Party’s proposed China policy and the more adversarial posture toward China reflected in the U.S. National Security and National Defense Strategies and amplified in Vice President Mike Pence’s tough speech on China last October. His statement also comes against a domestic backdrop in Australia of increasing wariness of Chinese state influence and interference in Australian politics, academia and industry, and rising alarm at the Chinese government’s moves toward the playing of a more aggressive diplomatic game, most recently with its detentions of foreign nationals, including Australian citizen Yang Hengjun. Turnbull in December 2017 spoke of “unprecedented and increasingly sophisticated attempts to influence the political process”—an assessment received from Australia’s intelligence agencies—citing “disturbing reports about Chinese influence.” And in December 2018 the New South Wales Labor Party’s headquarters were raided by investigators from the Independent Commission Against Corruption, reportedly looking for financial records linked to an annual Chinese Friends of Labor party fundraising event. Shorten’s statement seemingly is trying to reassure Beijing that despite growing and serious Australian concerns about China a Labor-led Australia would continue to pursue constructive engagement with Beijing. Two areas of potential difference in a Labor-led China policy may be on Australian strategy in the South China Sea and participation in the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Marles, a self-described “China hawk,” might push in a Labor cabinet for Australia to increase its actions in the disputed waters, having signaled an openness to such in the past. It is unclear exactly what this increased activity would look like, however. Marles has not explicitly advocated for Australia to conduct freedom of navigation operations within the twelve nautical mile zone of disputed territory, but he has stated that “Labor would consider opportunities for further cooperation with partners in the region.” The ALP has also expressed an “open mind as to how Australia and China can best collaborate on the [BRI],” and has not ruled out participating in joint infrastructure projects to develop northern Australia. Labor also has committed to “a significant increase” in Australian outreach with Asia generally, matching Australia’s “economic and trading agenda with our broader geopolitical priorities.” Key initiatives on this front were nominated in some detail in the ALP’s “Future Asia” policy framework, launched in 2017. One priority in Labor’s overall Asia strategy is to deepen economic ties with Indonesia, one of Australia’s most important, and often contentious, bilateral relationships. Shorten has pledged an “early visit” to Indonesia should he be elected prime minister, and asserted that reaching a level of “strategic trust” with Indonesia would be “a central objective” of a Labor government. Tensions in the Australia-Indonesia bilateral relationship arose anew late last year with the government’s announcement that Australia would recognize West Jerusalem as Israel’s capital. Indonesian Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi declared that this was a “really big blow” that would “affect bilateral relations” and Indonesia’s trade minister indicated that it would adversely impact the conclusion of a Australia-Indonesia free trade agreement (FTA). In one instance of emphatic divergence from the current Coalition government, Labor has stated that, if it wins power, it would reverse the government’s decision on recognizing West Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. However, the Australia-Indonesia FTA could still stall under a Labor government given the ALP’s opposition to a provision allowing for the importation of foreign workers. There is also the potential for a rhetorical flare-up between Australia and Indonesia should Abu Bakar Bashir, the radical Indonesian cleric linked to the Bali bombings which claimed the lives of eighty-eight Australians, be given early release, as Jakarta is considering. Shorten had declared in January this year that jail is “where he belongs.” However, it is unlikely that a Labor government would take a strong stand on this front, with Shorten conceding his views were “a personal opinion.” In office, Labor also likely would maintain Canberra’s “Pacific pivot”, having committed to place the Pacific at the center of Australia’s regional foreign policy. This would likely include a Labor government moving forward with Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s promise to establish a $2 billion fund to support infrastructure projects in the region. Despite some variances, it appears at this point that there would be no substantial foreign policy overhaul under a Labor government. As Wong noted in 2017, there is bipartisan support for the Australian foreign policy white paper released that year. The white paper, Australia’s first in fourteen years, examines the shifting power dynamics in the Indo-Pacific region, with a particular focus on the challenges presented by China’s rise coupled with concerns about decreased a potential decreased U.S. role in the region. Wong said the ALP recognized that “long-term planning is in the national interest, and that the nation is better off when changes of government don’t translate into the digital burning of months and years of public service work.” While there may be some differences between Labor and the government in terms of the execution of policy priorities, all indications currently point to a preference for broadly staying the same course. Elena Collinson (@elenacollinson) is a senior researcher at the Australia-China Relations Institute, University of Technology Sydney.

Over the weekend the Halifax International Security Forum convened its tenth iteration, one that observed the hundredth anniversary of the 1918 armistice ending World War I, and took the occasion of the forum’s own anniversary to reflect on the deliberations of the past decade. One of the distinguishing features of the Halifax forum lies in its selection of participating countries: only democracies are invited. An all-democracy forum on security raises the visibility of values issues—in the forum’s own words, “a security conference of democratic states that seeks to strengthen democracy.” This year’s plenary deliberations included more attention to Asia and the Indo-Pacific region than in the past—and surfaced concerns about China, trade, the Belt and Road Initiative, technology, and surveillance. The U.S. Indo-Pacific Command commander, Admiral Phil Davidson, provided a keynote that reinforced the speech Vice President Mike Pence had delivered away in Port Moresby just hours earlier at the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum summit. Davidson, given his specific focus on Indo-Pacific security, offered more expansive detail about what the administration means when it refers to a “free and open” region: “free from coercion by other nations” as well as free “in terms of values and belief systems” “individual rights and liberties” including religious freedom and good governance “the shared values of the United Nations Charter and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights”  “all nations should enjoy unfettered access to the seas and airways upon which our nations and economies depend” “open investment environments, transparent agreements between nations, protection of intellectual property rights, fair and reciprocal trade” Davidson took care to echo Vice President Pence’s invitation to China to participate in a free and open Indo-Pacific, as long as Beijing “chooses to respect its neighbors’ sovereignty, embrace free, fair, and reciprocal trade, and uphold human rights and freedom.” The session titled “Asia Values: A Free and Open Indo-Pacific” featured speakers from all four of the “Quad” countries: Australia, India, Japan, and the United States. One panelist noted the divergent geographic definitions of the Indo-Pacific: a common map for India, Japan, and Australia—one that ends on the east coast of Africa—but a U.S. view that ends with India’s west coast, leaving out the huge expanse of the Indian Ocean. (More on the geographic gap, with maps, from my perspective here.) Any number of other countries could have been represented, but by framing the discussion through the prism of the Quad, the session got to topics such as the Quad’s own evolution of purpose. What began as a humanitarian coordination effort among the four countries with the December 26, 2004 tsunami had a brief life as a “Quadrilateral Security Dialogue” meeting in 2007. But Australia later removed itself from that framework, and the four did not meet again until 2017. Since 2017, the Quad has met formally—at the assistant-secretary level—three times, the most recent of which took place in Singapore on November 15. These meetings, however, are no longer referred to as a “Quadrilateral Security Dialogue” but by the more anodyne “U.S.-Australia-India-Japan Consultations” (or other variants according to the capital issuing the statement: Canberra, New Delhi, or Tokyo). As the Halifax discussion on the Indo-Pacific highlighted, the Quad framework has evolved to take up matters not solely in the military-security lane. The conversation usefully raised ideas for the four countries to pursue together, such as increased cooperation for “instruments to meet the infrastructure demand” (some is already underway, but the need is great), counterproliferation and counterterrorism cooperation, and continued work to build greater interoperability among all four countries in order to better respond to humanitarian emergencies. Reflecting on the powerful symbol of all four democracies, and what they could do together, I was struck by the divergence in the otherwise similar statements released by each country following the November 15 Quad meeting in Singapore. Australia, Japan, and the United States all made reference to “exchang[ing] views on regional developments including in Sri Lanka and Maldives.” India, however, just noted “recent developments in the regional situation.” Challenges to democracy in Sri Lanka and Maldives suggest exactly the type of regional developments that all four Quad members ought to be able to discuss freely and openly, and consider what support they might be able to offer.   As we look ahead to more consultations among the Quad, all of us interested in the potential of this framework should be thinking about what it means for four democracies to develop a common agenda for the region. At a time of technological change, and new realizations about the vulnerabilities of all of our democracies—the precise vulnerabilities of open societies—perhaps the Quad democracies should be looking ahead to over-the-horizon issues that will be central to strengthening not only our own democracies but also others in the region. My book about India’s rise on the world stage, Our Time Has Come: How India Is Making Its Place in the World, was published by Oxford University Press in January. Follow me on Twitter: @AyresAlyssa. Or like me on Facebook (fb.me/ayresalyssa) or Instagram (instagr.am/ayresalyssa).

Last month, an internal party ballot within the ruling Liberal Party ousted former Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull. He was replaced by Scott Morrison, who had previously served as Australia’s treasurer. The shift led to the seventh prime minister in Australia in roughly a decade, with many toppled in internal party coups. Turnbull, in fact, had been one of the leaders of a previous Liberal Party revolt against former Prime Minister Tony Abbott that led to Abbott’s ousting in 2015. Some commentators, like Tom Switzer of the Center for Independent Studies in Sydney, who analyzed Australia’s leadership spills for CFR’s Asia Unbound (in a thorough post I commissioned) argue that, on balance, the constant turmoil at the top in Canberra does not presage broader political upheaval within Australia. Yet Australia’s political in-fighting does have potential foreign policy consequences, at a time when U.S. leadership in Asia is often absent, China is on the ascendance, and Australia could, in theory, help fill that void left by the Trump administration. For more on these consequences, see my new World Politics Review article.

Tom Switzer is executive director of the Centre for Independent Studies in Sydney and a presenter at the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s Radio National.  As Australia welcomes Scott Morrison as its sixth prime minister since 2010, observers might be forgiven for thinking that the country has developed a certain political bloodlust. And it is not just at the top of government where such slicing and dicing has become a national pastime. The past decade has seen the two main parties—the center-right Liberals and their center-left Labor opponents—run through nine party leaders.  Last week it was Malcolm Turnbull’s turn. Just a few weeks short of his third anniversary as prime minister, the former investment banker fell victim to a coup within the Liberal party. According to the Liberal party’s center-right base, the more moderate Turnbull was a walking contradiction of all they believed in. He was always out of kilter with them, irreparably so, and perhaps there was no point in prolonging the agony. Turnbull’s ouster followed mounting public discontent with his policies and a long run of bad public polls for his government. For many Liberals, Turnbull’s removal was an act of self-preservation for the party ahead of a general election due next year, although it might not be enough to stop a Labor victory. But the political coup against Turnbull also raises questions again about the vicious nature of Australian politics. The reasons for Australia’s vicious and often gridlocked politics are manifold. A hostile upper house of parliament, the Senate, all too often blocks important legislation. For generations, it was easier for the Senate to rubber stamp House legislation. However, in recent times, a Senate crossbench of a more varied crew of lawmakers has made it more difficult for governments to govern. In addition, the political climate has become increasingly poll driven, which means reporting of politics usually concentrates on the horse race rather than policy debates, and politicians also become driven by the horse race. Indeed, the 24/7 news cycle, together with noisy and polarizing social media, has fostered the growth of “infotainment” in political news. That makes it very difficult for any prime minister, from either side of the aisle, to implement thoroughly thought-out, reformist policies. And yet, despite these new trends, and while the churning of political leadership in Australia during the past decade looks exceptional, it is hardly a new development in the country. From 1901 when Australia became an independent state to 1914, when Australia entered the First World War, the country had ten prime ministers. From 1966 to 1972, during part of the era of Australian involvement in the Vietnam War, the country had six prime ministers. Two of the country’s most noted political leaders were toppled in 1941 (Robert Menzies) and 1991 (Bob Hawke), though the former bounced back in 1949 to win seven elections and become the country’s longest serving prime minister.  Moreover, as unstable as politics appear now in Canberra, the polarization, partisanship and policy dysfunction are far worse in Washington and Westminster. Nor does the populist nationalism that is proliferating across other parts of the world, especially Rome, Warsaw and Budapest—and which has played a major role in politics in the United States—resonate in Australia. These populist movements represent a backlash against political establishments and focus on economic insecurity, immigration, and terrorism, problems to some degree exacerbated by political dysfunction and hyped up by the media. In Australia, Pauline Hanson’s One Nation, an economic nationalist and anti-immigration movement that came to prominence more than two decades ago, is a spent force. And although the two major parties’ share of the vote has been dropping in recent times, there has been no nation-wide lurch toward the populist left or right. Why not? For one, Australia has not experienced a recession in twenty-seven years. Thanks largely to market reforms from 1983 to 2007, Australia has experienced a less inflation-prone economy, a wider choice of goods and services at lower (real) prices, and (until around 2011–12) the longest income boom since the era of Australian gold rushes. Thanks also to a surge in exports of commodities to China, Australia has been able to weather external financial storms, such as the 2008–09 global financial crisis, and keep growing year after year. Indeed, the OECD often touts Australia’s economic record. In 2011, it found that Australia’s overall living conditions are the best among the world’s thirty-five developed countries.  Second, Australia’s tough border-protection policies—implemented under Prime Ministers John Howard (2001–07), Tony Abbott (2013–15), and Turnbull (2015–18)—have boosted public confidence in large-scale, legal and non-discriminatory immigration. The lesson: strict controls combined with sizable legal immigration help reduce xenophobia. Although Canberra is regarded as the political coup capital of the world, Australia is hardly in dire straits. In fact, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Global Democracy Index, Australia remains in the world’s top ten democracies. And the consensus among many seasoned observers of Australian politics is that compulsory voting, by inoculating the country from voter apathy, helps ensure the integrity of Australian democracy. For now, Australia is immune to the kind of insurgency forces that threaten to upend political establishments in the United States and Europe.  Perhaps Australia’s political class is doing something right.