Category: Uncategorized

  • AUKUS and the Erosion of Democratic Integrity

    As the United States undertakes a review of the AUKUS agreement under the renewed “America First” agenda, indications are that Australia will be  pressured to deepen its military commitments. This may include paying more for second hand nuclear powered submarines, expanded joint force basing, and a firm commitment to deploy the submarines to serve US interests. Before we take irreversible steps down this path, we must publicly discuss how it would imperil the essence of Australian democracy.

    At the heart of the debate over AUKUS lies a question of democratic integrity. Who decides when Australia goes to war? Who ensures that the nation’s security choices reflect the values and consent of its citizens? Decisions about war, peace, and alliances are made solely by the executive,  shielded from scrutiny and  parliamentary debate. If Australia deepens its strategic dependency on a global military power without transparent democratic processes, we risk hollowing out the very values we claim to defend.

    Parliament is not legally required to vote, or even be consulted, before troops are committed overseas. This constitutional arrangement might have been tolerable in an era of limited foreign entanglement. But today, as AUKUS expands in scope and ambition, this democratic gap has become a chasm.

    The public has never voted on AUKUS. It was announced with no electoral mandate and no national debate. Its terms were settled in secrecy, its implications revealed only in fragments. As the United States now pushes for faster implementation and greater Australian involvement in U.S. military operations, the people of Australia remain bystanders in decisions that will define their nation’s future security posture for decades to come.

    Ethical Complicity and the Bypassing of Consent

    A democracy’s legitimacy derives from the consent of the governed—not just in domestic affairs, but especially in matters of war and peace. When a government commits the nation to military alliances or potential conflicts without the knowledge or approval of its citizens, it undermines the very foundation of representative democracy.

    Deepening Australia’s commitments under AUKUS risks drawing us into future wars, (maybe with China, we all remember Iraq, Afghanistan, Vietnam. where might it end?)—without a vote, a debate, or a clear mandate. Under such conditions, our participation becomes not just strategically risky, but ethically compromised. We are not choosing our path; we are being pulled along it.  Philosophical traditions—from Kantian ethics to just war theory—insist that moral action requires conscious deliberation and universal principles. A nation that aligns itself with a foreign power known for unilateral aggression and extrajudicial force projection cannot plausibly claim to stand for democracy and rule of law. By enabling another nation’s military ambitions through silence or compliance, we become complicit without consent.

    The Threat of Strategic Dependency

    Defence policy, especially in a democracy, must preserve freedom of choice. Yet AUKUS, in its current trajectory, creates conditions of strategic dependency. As Australia prepares to host U.S. military assets, share sensitive intelligence, and acquire nuclear submarines reliant on American technology, we reduce our capacity to make independent decisions about conflict and diplomacy. The deeper the entanglement, the harder it becomes to say no when it matters most. 

    This loss of autonomy is not just a strategic concern—it is a democratic one. A sovereign democracy must retain the power to determine its own fate. That means being able to withhold participation in wars that do not serve our national interest or violate our ethical standards. It means subjecting alliance commitments to public scrutiny, parliamentary debate, and transparent accountability.

    The Future We Owe to the People—and Their Children

    AAUKUS is not a short-term agreement. It locks Australia into decades-long procurement, basing, and strategic obligations. Basing infrastructure, once agreed, is politically and diplomatically difficult to undo. In effect, we are binding future generations to decisions made behind closed doors today.

    Philosopher Hans Jonas argued that true responsibility lies in preserving the future conditions of freedom and safety for those who will inherit our world. That responsibility begins with maintaining the democratic integrity of our national decision-making. If we mortgage that integrity to meet the demands of an anxious ally or an ambitious defence contractor, we forfeit the right to claim we are acting in the people’s name.

    Reclaiming Democratic Control

    Australia must not slide passively into a deeper AUKUS entanglement. If the agreement is to be pursued at all, it must be brought fully into the light of democratic oversight. That means:

    • Enacting a War Powers Act requiring parliamentary approval before any future overseas deployments.
    • Opening all AUKUS arrangements—including basing, procurement, the sharing of risks and command structures—to full parliamentary debate.
    • Holding a national conversation about the long-term consequences of these decisions for sovereignty, peace, and Australia’s place in the world.

    Strategic alliances are not inherently undemocratic. But when they are formed and deepened without consent, they undermine the very values they claim to protect. Australia must resist further commitments to AUKUS unless they can pass the highest test—not of military utility, but of democratic legitimacy.

    To act otherwise is not to strengthen our security. It is to weaken our democracy.

    Form

  • Time to Rethink Australia’s Defence Strategy

    Surely, there could not be a more urgent or appropriate moment to rethink the defence strategies best suited to the real-world threats facing Australia. Our current approaches, shaped by colonial legacies and Cold War mindsets, are unlikely to survive a frank and honest appraisal of their fitness for today’s world.

    If we begin by acknowledging the realities of the second quarter of the 21st century, and the kinds of events that might threaten Australia’s sovereignty and welfare, the true nature of our risks becomes clearer. A rough assessment of potential threats by impact and likelihood might look like this:

    • Belligerent nation with territorial ambitions — Catastrophic, but highly unlikely
    • Belligerent nation targeting Australia due to alliance-based enmity — Severe, and increasingly foreseeable
    • State or non-state actors attacking infrastructure or inciting social division — Damaging and highly likely
    • Natural or human-made disaster — Ranging from very bad to catastrophic, and inevitable

    Who Really Threatens Australia?

    Considering the first category, we must ask: is there a belligerent nation with territorial ambitions over Australia for reasons other than our alignment with its geopolitical rival?

    Our closest ally points to China. Yet China is also our largest trading partner—reliant on our raw materials, providing us with finished goods, and maintaining a trade balance in our favour. Despite tensions, there is little government or public pressure to curtail this mutually beneficial relationship.

    Imagining how China could benefit from directly governing Australia stretches credibility. The logistical and economic costs alone would be astronomical. The greater threat to our sovereignty stems not from direct aggression, but from the increasing militarisation of the Pacific, driven by Cold War mentalities and rigid ideologies around Taiwan.

    The China–Taiwan question is a matter for Beijing and Taipei to resolve. It should not automatically draw in Canberra. The unqualified alignment with U.S. interests undermines Australia’s credibility in the region—especially as our record includes morally dubious and strategically disastrous wars from Vietnam to Iraq, and now a reluctance to confront our allies’ support for the Netanyahu government’s actions.

    AUKUS: A Strategic Blunder?

    And then there’s AUKUS. Did we really agree to pay the U.S. $375 billion for three second-hand submarines that, if delivered in the mid-2030s, will already be nearing the end of their useful life? Earlier this year, we made the first $500 million payment—an act that felt less like a strategic investment and more like a tribute from a vassal state.

    As American democracy struggles with internal division, corporate overreach, and political dysfunction, we must ask: are we still aligning with a like-minded power—or with one whose values increasingly diverge from our own?

    The Case for Strategic Neutrality

    In this exceptionally unstable period, it is time to pivot. We should consider neutrality not as an abdication of responsibility, but as a strategic choice to protect our sovereignty. The Cold War dynamics of the Northern Hemisphere no longer apply to the Australia of today.

    Seventy-five years ago, most Australians were of Anglo-Celtic Christian descent. That figure is now heading toward 50%. People of 232 nationalities now call Australia home—many fleeing war, persecution, or failed states. Our cultural ties, trade, and daily life are increasingly intertwined with Asia, not Europe. On our streets, in our shops, in our kitchens, and on our devices, Asia has become far more relevant and alluring than our “old friends” ever were.

    It may be time for a diplomatic divorce.

    Cybersecurity and Social Resilience

    Decoupling from Cold War alliances might reduce the risk of entanglement in armed conflict, but it won’t protect us from cyber threats—likely the most immediate and disruptive danger we face. These threats come from both state actors, seeking economic or political advantage, and non-state actors, from ideological extremists to criminal syndicates.

    Here, reorienting defence spending toward cybersecurity, resilience, and social cohesion offers a better return. It also creates dual-purpose benefits—protecting both national defence and everyday society. Investments in digital infrastructure, education, and rapid-response capabilities will strengthen Australia more than submarines designed for open-ocean warfare ever could.

    Climate Crisis as National Security Threat

    Natural disasters are inevitable—and growing in intensity and frequency. From fires to floods, the climate crisis is a national security issue. The architecture of response is already in place: a pyramid that begins with neighbours and volunteers, rising through local services to state agencies, and culminating in the ADF.

    If we shift our mindset from preparing for distant wars to preparing for real, recurring emergencies, we could reallocate defence spending toward disaster-readiness and community resilience—while still maintaining a robust capability that can be deployed in both civil and defence roles.

    Technology, Industry, and Relevance

    The supposed benefit of Cold War alliances in technology transfer no longer holds. Australia’s rejection of a nuclear future limits our ability to benefit from U.S. defence industry investments. Meanwhile, Asia is surging ahead in AI, cybersecurity, and drone technology.

    If we want a future-oriented industrial base, it’s time to align with those at the technological frontier, and build partnerships with relevant regional players, not just nostalgic ones.

    A Sovereign, Future-Facing Australia

    This fundamental shift in how we perceive threats and allocate resources has deep implications: for our defence institutions, international relationships, economic strategies, and even the career paths of those serving in government, military, and industry. But it could also open the door to more diverse opportunities, better aligned with a changing world.

    As Rumi, the Persian poet, once said:
    “Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.”

    Surely, the time has come to stop being the junior partner, blindly loyal in archaic rivalries. It’s time for Australia to chart an independent, confident, and thoughtful course—where our sovereignty, security, and identity come first.

    Rumi also wrote:
    “Seek out those who fan your flames.”
    Here’s hoping these ideas spark something in you.