The election of Joko Widodo (Jokowi) in 2014 heralded the beginnings of a new Indonesia. With a grass-roots campaign of bold promises to fight corruption, build infrastructure and attract investment, Jokowi carried the high hopes of liberals and reformers on his shoulders.

Four years on, however, many have been disappointed by Jokowi’s lacklustre performance. But what is continually disregarded in the criticism of Jokowi are the realities he faces as leader of a country with complex political structures and attitudes about state independence.

Indonesia has developed significantly since overthrowing Dutch colonialism in 1945. It is now the biggest economy in Southeast Asia, and has been famously predicted to be a top four global economy by 2050. It is arguably one of the most successful young democracies in the world.

With the election of Jokowi, the promise of infrastructure development and investment opportunities attracted the attention of journalists, academics and political leaders throughout the Indo-Pacific. While extremely attractive to foreign investors and the international community, these facts and predications regarding the state of Indonesia’s economy are usually distributed without much context.

Since 1945, Indonesia has developed an extremely powerful political oligarchy and become obsessed with self-reliance. Part of this obsession is enshrined in the Constitution. Article 33 states that “sectors of production which are important for the country and affect the life of the people shall be controlled by the state…and exploited to the greatest benefit of the people”. These “sectors” are “the land, the waters and the natural riches”. The importance attached to Indonesian ownership and decision-making within post-colonial sovereignty is evident.

This importance can also be seen in more recent legislation. The 2009 Mining Law (Law No. 4/2009 on Mineral and Coal Mining) placed a full ban on the export of unprocessed mineral ores to ensure processing took place domestically and funded domestic markets, despite Indonesia lacking the appropriate processing facilities to do so. Its implementation was postponed as a result, and, despite his campaigning for the ban, Jokowi was forced to reverse his position in 2017 to increase exports and ease budget deficits.

The 2014 presidential election campaign itself was also extremely nationalist. Both candidates, Jokowi and Subianto Prabowo, utilised rhetoric about Indonesia’s exploitation by foreign nations to garner votes – a sentiment widely shared by the Indonesian population.

Both the 2009 Mining Law and the nationalist nature of the 2014 election are reflections of the underlying influence of self-reliance in Indonesian politics. This is an important facet of Indonesian identity to consider when analysing the economic and political rise of the country in the Indo-Pacific, especially if policy makers and political leaders are to attempt to influence its foreign policy behaviour. Indonesians seek to be extremely self-sufficient – even if it appears to severely limit their country’s economic growth.

The Indonesian oligarchy, embedded in both the political and business spheres, also plays a hugely influential role in policymaking. The country entered a world of merged business and political interests under President Suharto in 1966, who was responsible for opening Indonesia to global capitalism and exploited the resulting economic and corporate growth. Highly cohesive and complex business relationships with politically powerful families, including the Suhartos themselves, became part of the political structure, and still very much exist today. The vested interest of oligarchs in domestic capital and production has meant that they have prevented the country from opening itself to competitive foreign companies, thereby reducing investment and development in Indonesia.

This oligarchy is not only powerful, it is also resilient. In the 1997-98 Asian Financial Crisis, the Indonesian government approached the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for economic help as its exchange rate and economy began to crash. The resulting reforms implemented by the IMF launched an aggressive attack on the oligarchy and corruptive practices, including the closing of large private banks and the establishment of the Indonesia Anti-Corruption Commission. Indonesia, at the same time, transitioned to democracy, and Suharto lost the presidency. Despite this, Indonesian oligarchs adapted to the reforms, reorganised their power around new political structures, and maintained their old state-business relationships.

It is important to factor this in when considering Jokowi’s presidency. His policy decisions are not entirely autonomous, and he is operating in a political system that survived an economic crisis and the IMF’s aggressive attempts at reform. To expect one man, president or otherwise, to have reformed such a system within four years of being elected is a misplaced expectation.

This is not to say that Indonesia is forever cursed with economic and political stagnation – on the contrary, its promise is real. The recent opening to foreign universities operating in Indonesia is indicative of a nation that wants to grow and develop partnerships. However, the development of Jokowi’s presidency and of Indonesia’s emergence into an economic power will take a great deal of time. This was evident in the failure of the Australian and Indonesian governments to reach the Indonesia-Australia Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement promised by the end of 2017.

Indonesia is a promising country in the Indo-Pacific region, but it also has several very real factors inhibiting its ability to reach its potential. Patience and commitment should be exercised in ensuring its growth in the Asian Century.

Emily Wise is the Indo-Pacific Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

In January, for the first time in over two years, North and South Korea recommenced diplomatic talks in Panmunjom or ‘Truce village’. Lauded by some as being a show of ‘sports diplomacy’, officials from both countries agreed that North Korea would send a delegation of athletes, supporters and cheerleaders to the 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. The negotiators also announced some joint participation between the two nations in the Games (who are officially still at war and have been since 1950).

This surprising detente in the wake of a tumultuous 2017 has led some commentators to consider whether sports diplomacy can and will diffuse nuclear tensions on the Korean Peninsula. For examples of such analysis, see here, here, here and here.

Unfortunately however, this unexpected show of (brief) unity has angered many South Korean residents. The tepid (at best) response of the South Korean people to joint participation with North Korea exemplifies the crucial role identity plays in understanding State behaviour. Given that sport is often intrinsically tied to the ‘Nation State’, it is unsurprising that identity politics have come to the fore.

Sport

Throughout 2017, the world seemed to be on the precipice of nuclear war. North Korea orchestrated multiple missile tests, possibly developed an intercontinental ballistic missile and conducted its sixth nuclear test. Regular insults were traded between US President Donald Trump and Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un. Meanwhile in South Korea, the people elected a new President, Moon Jae-in, after political scandals rocked the previous government. It was therefore surprising when Kim Jong-un, in his New Years’ speech, proposed talks with South Korea to discuss the Winter Olympics. On January 9, unification ministers from both countries agreed that North Korea would send a delegation to the Games.

More significantly, several days later, negotiators announced that Korean athletes would march together under a unified flag at the opening ceremony and that the countries would field a joint women’s ice hockey team. Some have attributed this cooperative attitude to various motivations – including the success of the UN and US sanctions, to the spirit of the Olympic Truce, and/or to a devious ‘charm offensive’.

The social

However, the most interesting result of this ‘sport diplomacy’ has been the lukewarm response to joint cooperation among the South Korean people, both from conservatives and young people alike. According to the pollster Realmeter, only four out of ten respondents were in favour of marching together under the unification flag. Additionally, a poll from the SBS-National Assembly Speaker’s office found that seven out of ten Koreans opposed the joint hockey team. Further, Moon’s approval rating fell to 67%, a four-month low. Some even accused the government of turning the Pyeongchang Olympics into the ‘Pyongyang’ Olympics.

Stability

So, how can we understand the reaction of the South Korean people? Or, how can we understand this State behaviour? The classic Realist answer, articulated by Kenneth Waltz, provides that anarchy is the fundamental organising principle of the international system. States are always inclined to conflict with each other, and must therefore rely on self-help through armed force to survive. But this does not explain the anger of the South Korean people. Here, a social theory of international politics that points to the importance of shared ideas and norms is most useful (see Alexander Wendt).

In the context of the Olympics, while ministers urge reunification, the push back from the South Korean people demonstrates that these countries now clearly have different identities. As one South Korean resident put it, "North and South Korea are separate nations". It is particularly significant that plans for joint participation have upset both older and younger generations. Andray Abrahamian, a research fellow at Pacific Forum CSIS, believes it “reflects a growing South Korean nationalism and identity, rather than a more simple anti-Communism in the older generation”.

As to why the announcement of joint participation in the Olympics has caused this outbreak of identity politics, sports are the perfect vehicle for illuminating identity issues. Athletes are often organised and segregated according to a single national identity, which manifests itself in a common flag, anthem and uniform. It is profoundly difficult for the people of a unified identity to accept that it join with another separate, unified identify to compete as one sporting team.

The Future

The problem with the Pyeongchang Olympics is not whether sport can bring people together. The problem is precisely that it is bringing people together as a single and unified national entity – and the citizens of South Korea do not seem to desire this. The implications of these identity struggles will extend far beyond the context of the Olympics as South Koreans, especially young people, seem to be making motions that they may not want reunification.

Even putting aside the lack of desire for reunification among South Korean people, it is doubtful whether reconciliation would actually be possible. The performances of the North and South Korean cheerleaders perfectly encapsulates this. North Korean cheerleaders wore full-length red jumpsuits and shouted encouragement such as ‘Unify the motherland!’ The South Koreans danced to pop music, decked in mini-skirts and knee-high boots.

These are profound identity differences. It is difficult to see how they would be reconciled under a one-state solution. And the more time passes, the more this challenge will increase in complexity and magnitude. Ultimately, the real obstacle to peace on the Korean Peninsula is not weapons, but identity.

Rebekkah Markey-Towler is the International Security Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

The recent election of Australia to the influential United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC) sees the state in unlikely company, joining Saudi Arabia, China and Indonesia. The government’s statement that these countries should be subject to scrutiny, accountability and transparency is interesting considering the ongoing concernsraised over Australia’s immigration policies, the secrecy that Amnesty International reports has been ‘a key plank in Australia’s punitive “border protection”’ policies and recent fresh revelations of government duplicity. Only time will tell whether Australia intends to use this platform to reframe its domestic immigration debate into the appropriate global context and reprise Australia’s role as a human rights pioneer on the world stage.

Australia’s current immigration policy is something of a Frankenstein’s monster, evolving as it has from the instability of recent administrations. The capriciousness of recent federal politics has driven continuous legislative change, resulting in an extremely expensive and complex system, has been widely criticised for its consistent disregard of international law. The harsh implementation of policy has attracted the attention of multiple UN Special Rapporteurs and sparked a push for an investigation by the International Criminal Court.

With a potential precedent for future class actions set by the government-funded settlement of the Manus Island suit, damning reports by international organisations and direct pleas from the global community, Australia’s continued refusal to address or acknowledge these statements is concerning.

This disdain of international obligations and criticism seems especially odd, considering the excellent international record Australia has historically enjoyed. A founding member of the UN, Australia earned an exemplary reputation early on through the leadership of Dr Herbert ‘Doc’ Evatt. ‘Doc’ was pivotal in the formation of the UN Charter in 1945, which led him to later preside over the General Assembly in 1948, overseeing the adoption and proclamation of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Former High Court Justice Michael Kirby’s assessment that ‘there were few Australians of the 20th century who stacked up more achievements of lasting benefit to the nation and to the world’, gives an indication of the extraordinary esteem in which ‘Doc’ and therefore, Australia were held. Such was the strength of Australia’s reputation, it was usedpolitical nature of immigration in Australian politics. While its discourse remains overshadowed by domestic political agendas, immigration policy will continue to overlook the global trends driving the increase in asylum seekers and the urgent need for Australia to adopt a proactive, humane and sustainable strategy.

According to 2017’s Global Peace Index (GPI) report, the last decade has seen global peace levels consistently deteriorate. This has contributed to the near-doubling of forcibly displaced persons observed over the last decade while growing inequality in peace between the most and least peaceful countries sheds light on current immigration issues. Small Pacific nations, Australia’s neighbours, continue to suffer immensely and data predicts that the Asia-Pacific region will continue to be disproportionately affected. This further threatens to increase the already record numbers of displaced people. These findings highlight the increasingly pressing need for global leadership on refugee issues, especially in Australia’s region.

The UNHCR’s latest report identified that an unprecedented 65.5 million people were forcibly displaced from their homes in 2016. Internally displaced persons comprised 40.3 million, 22.5 million were recognised as refugees and the remaining 2.8 million were asylum-seekers. Australia only accepted 22,000 refugees in 2016, with our net intake scheduled to decline to 16,250 in 2017-2018. These numbers are staggering, especially considering over half of the 65.6 million people displaced in 2016 are younger than 18. Yet most states, including Australia, that have the resources to aid the human suffering continue to pursue insular strategies like closing their borders, often violating international law in the process.

As UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi said, ‘the willingness of nations to work together not just for refugees but for the collective human interest is what’s being tested today, and it’s this spirit of unity that badly needs to prevail… closing borders does not solve the problem.’ Unfortunately, despite continued conferences on displacement, this failure by most of the developed world to resettle even the 21 million (0.3% of the global population) UNHCR-recognised refugees, is currently exacerbating the issue.

Although Australia’s formerly sterling international reputation has been tarnished, the factors driving immigration issues (like climate change, global conflict and Australia’s attractive standard of living) seem here to stay. If Australia hopes to draw on the legacy of pioneers like Doc Evatt and show global leadership once again, if only to mitigate future challenges in our own region, now is the time. As the Chinese proverb goes – ‘the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second-best time is now.’

Jordan is currently completing his final year of a Bachelor of Commerce with the degree of Bachelor of Laws at Macquarie University.

This article is part of a two-part series examining peace and security on the Korean Peninsula.

In part one of this two part series, it was acknowledged that the assumption of a hawkish, pro-conflict stance on the North Korean issue would result in utter ruination. However, it was also observed that the present framework of sanctions against the North has proven powerless.

In devising a solution, wisdom can be drawn from the teachings of Sun Tzu’s Art of War, where it is observed that “In the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy's country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good.” The question must therefore be asked – can North Korea be successfully disarmed without the international community utilizing military force?

Policy misconceptions

The North Korean state is one that is skeptical, bitter, and paranoid in nature. This may be attributed to the numerous sanctions imposed on it by the international community for its nuclear and missile programs. Consequently, the government perceives itself as facing an existential threat from all sides, having observed the fate of countries opposed to western interests whom voluntarily denuclearized. Although Iraq and Libya succumbed to Western pressure to denuclearize, both Saddam Hussein and Muammar el-Qaddafi were subsequently ousted and their nations regressed into failed states. The Kim regime’s quest for nuclear weaponry is the logical outcome of justified paranoia, one that has been central to its legitimacy and inextricably tied to its very survival in an increasingly polarised global climate.

The ineffectual response of the international community to North Korea has been illustrated by the disjointed reactions of assorted stakeholders in the West (US, South Korea, Japan) and the East (China, Russia). When treating states as their own individual personality, the circumstances and interactions here can be interpreted as characteristic of intermittent reinforcement,where the rules, rewards or personal boundaries are handed out or enforced inconsistently and occasionally. This encourages the opposing party to continue pushing until they get what they want, without altering their own behaviour.

The democratic nature of the US government and transition of executive leadership every four or eight years contributes to this unstable circumstance – thereby fostering a degree of uncertainty within policy between each successive administration, which paradoxically amounts to a certain predictability that the North Korean regime can exploit. The current course is unsustainable, since the North will never surrender its nuclear capabilities so long as external threats by foreign powers enforce the perception that such weaponry is central to the regime’s survival. The sooner this is understood, the better.

One avenue that has been largely neglected has been the adoption of a liberalist outlook; to facilitate constructive dialogue on shared concerns, and the greater promotion of interdependence through the exchange of cultural materials and concepts. The objective here must be to promote understanding by altering the North’s enduring perceptions of Western actions from one of hostility to one of concern, followed by the extended secondary objective of reconciliation and eventual reunification; thus advancing and securing long-term peace and stability on the Korean peninsula.

The Power of Soft-Power

First articulated by Joseph Nye, the notion of soft-power involves the ability of a state to achieve its goals through attraction rather than by coercion or conflict. In the age of digital diplomacy, the pace of technological development and globalization has multiplied and reinforced the ability of states to effectively harness technology to foster intercultural communication and the cross-pollination of ideas. As a result, within a more complex and interdependent world, traditional hard-power must be regarded as equal to soft-power in driving changes within international affairs.

Arguably, engagement through the cross-cultural exchange of goods and ideas is heavily opposed or scrutinised by the North Korean regime, fearful as it is of the potentially disastrous effects of consumer cultural materials upon its people, and interpreting the control of such materials as central to the security of the state. Despite this, the regime has appeared increasingly receptive to such outside imports; with the ever-increasing access to consumer goods and business opportunities for ordinary citizens signalling a quiet consumer market revolution. This has been highlighted by the opening of Western-style restaurants and eateries in Pyongyang, the emergence of 387 state-sanctioned markets throughout the country as of 2017, and the existence of indigenous cellphones, solar panels and Coca-Cola becoming progressively more commonplace within the capital. However, purchasing foreign technology and outside media, and criticisms of the Kim family are still considered serious punishable offenses.

North Korea has already demonstrated its potential as a willing interpreter and recipient of soft power most evidently in the form of high-culture soft power through the mechanism of knowledge sharing. This can be interpreted as a tool for engagement and long-term influence with the regime; as engagement within agriculture, food security, public health and medicine through this avenue have had demonstrated effects on the material well-being of North Koreans.

Skepticism of the outside world has not curtailed the degree of influence which China has extended over the hermit kingdom through bilateral trade, which increased tenfold between 2000 to 2015, and peaked at USD$6.86 billion in 2014. China’s grassroots-oriented approach to North Korea has had a noted impact upon its economy and society, with reports that North Korean society is becoming more pluralistic, and is seeing the emergence of an entrepreneurial class. This has bolstered the proposition that MNCs and FDI can be utilised as a vehicle for soft-power dissemination, because they can lead to improvements in social conditions via education, information exchange, knowledge-building and transmission.

Nonetheless, the regime’s protracted strategy here appears to align with its core Juche ideology; one which seeks self-sufficiency and political seclusion. In advocating entrepreneurial activity and competition between small businesses, the regime’s recent experimentation with capitalism seeks to emulate China’s developmental success – elevating its citizens’ living standards while aiming to sidestep the associated socioeconomic and political consequences of such changes.

Given the capacity of the CCP to maintain its one-party authoritarian dictatorship over China whilst successfully transitioning into a capitalist system, there is much doubt about the potential effectiveness of soft-power diplomacy on the isolated North Korean state. While the potential for soft-power to effect political change within states is questionable, its established capacity to foster peace, prosperity and broader international stability through economic interdependence with other states is more than sufficient for policy-makers to pursue with North Korea.

Active soft-power

Notably, the consistent use of “active” soft-power is one strategy which has already had a significant impact upon the North Korean government and its citizens. In this sense, the term “active soft-power” can be understood as a positive action undertaken through soft-power means.

At eleven sites along the demilitarized zone (DMZ) separating the two Koreas, loudspeakers constructed by the South Korean army can be heard blasting political content and K-pop songs up to 24 kilometers into the North – the effectiveness of which can be determined by the North’s repeated threats to fire across the border and destroy such speakers once they are effectively located. Additionally, following the recent high-profile case of a North Korean soldier defecting across the DMZ under gunfire at Panmunjom, it was reported that upon awakening in the hospital following surgery, the first thing the solider requested was for some Choco Pies.

Recalling the Cold War phenomenon of blue jeans and its abrasive effect upon Soviet ideological propaganda and control, the case can be made that increased access to consumer goods has a significant effect upon the psyche of both citizens and soldiers. While the North endeavours to restrict what permeates their borders, this has not stopped activists in the South from smuggling anti-regime propaganda, mobile phones, USBs containing South Korean dramas, and Choco Pies into the country and having a noted effect on the populace, as illustrated by the ever-increasing number of defectors and thriving black market scene. This has prompted calls from North Korean defectors residing in the South for the West to increase its use of soft-power strategies against the regime. Indeed, sanctions suffocate the forces of change in North Korea; they stifle elements of reform and drive the citizenry back into the confidence of the state.

Summary

The notion of restricting the North's nuclear and missile ambitions through military provocations is one which serves to reinforce and feed government propaganda; which falls in line with the regime’s perpetual use of fear and coercion to rally its citizenry, and enabling the maintenance of perpetual isolation under the notion of self-reliance contained withinJuche ideology. As observed throughout history, winning the hearts and minds of ordinary people is central to achieving victory and lasting peace.

You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. The US and its allies must recognise this and depart from their zero-sum Manichean policies if they truly seek wider peace and security on the Korean Peninsula. Peace cannot be maintained by force; it can only be achieved through understanding, one Choco Pie at a time.

Jonathan Lim is the East Asia Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

As the world begins to engage with the reality of Xi’s gargantuan vision for a ‘shared future for mankind’ through China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), what happens at the grass roots can be easy to dismiss as inconsequential.

From an official state media perspective, what differentiates the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) from other historic mega-infrastructure behemoths like America’s Marshall Plan (the main beneficiary of which was the United States itself) is that BRI ‘will ensure peace and prosperity for China itself, China's neighbouring countries, as well as the world’. According to Chinese officials, the BRI is introducing enlightened leadership in a world dealing with the ever-expanding power vacuum left by the US’ global retreat. It’s a leadership that is built upon principles of ‘green development and ecological civilisation’, not least because those principles need to be seen to be acted upon domestically in China to quell the protests of a growing environmental movement.

Lizzie Parsons, from the international corruption and environmental NGO, Global Witness says, “Xi Jinping has articulated bold aspirations for China’s future domestic development to be aligned with environmental considerations.”

“Meeting these same aspirations outside the borders will also be vital for communities situated along the Belt and Road investment corridors. However, there are few indications yet that companies are prioritising environmental or social concerns above economics.“

As idealistic domestic media portrayals of the BRI begin to go global, what is the reality of that vision’s creation on the ground? At the moment, there has been very little coverage of internal opposition to BRI.

This is not to say that there are not voices that want to be heard – Friends of the Earth (FoE) have recently compiled a number of compelling case studies alongside rigorous analysis to provide an insight into the muddier paths the BRI is forging.

Using China’s own Green Credit Guidelines, which are a genuine exemplar for international banks to use when considering investment projects, FoE measures up how much attention Chinese banks are paying to those guidelines five years on from their creation. Huang Zhong, a researcher working on social impacts of Chinese investment overseas, says that "admittedly, China’s strong commitments are self-imposed, however, their fulfilment will ultimately depend on functional safeguards, accountability mechanisms and the operators on the ground."

For those searching for an ideological light in the consuming darkness that is Trump’s twitter account, the Communist Party of China’s (CPC) policies on ecological civilisation and a green future could be considered to offer a genuine alternative to America’s global leadership. Unfortunately, for those consuming that propaganda without a pinch of salt, the findings of the FoE report may come as hard to swallow.

Using first-hand evidence, the report reveals that numerous Chinese state banks have invested in projects in BRI countries resulting in not only the destruction of unique environments and broad human rights violations, but also the deliberate creation of dirty coal projects where none have existed before. From constructing Kenya’s first ever coal power plant on the UNESCO-listed idyllic island of Lamu, to disappearances of those refusing to relocate to accommodate the Sasan Ultra Mega Coal Plant in India, to the impending ironic destruction of a 1300-year old archaeological mecca that was once a major stop on the Silk Road in Afghanistan, the impact of Chinese bank-funded projects are having major lasting effects on communities and environments that have little resources to protest their own destruction.

Of course, it is a given that when such large-scale investment occurs in such delicately unstable regions, there is bound to be some collateral damage. While these projects may not be so different in their genesis from the bloody exploits of Western dominated multinationals like Shell in Nigeria and Unocal in Myanmar, there are two clear differences between those still tarnished corporate names and the names of Chinese banks that are only in the nascent stages of developing their global image.

The first is that, quite simply, corporate social responsibility is no longer purely a flashy new buzzword, but now consists of industry-led standards that ensure the protection of stakeholders in a project, as well as sustainable returns to investors. The second is that these projects are publicly linked to the highest echelons of Chinese political power in a way that international multinationals could only have previously dreamed of (and did occasionally succeed in achieving under the table).

While the global world order may not require the CPC to deal in democracy, ensuring approval ratings amongst the bulwark of Global South nations will be central to China’s increasing dominant engagement with international forums. In making that bid for power under a banner of the BRI, the CPC should ensure that its banks embrace action on the rhetoric, which provides a genuine hope for a green future.

“The incentives for companies to abide by such guidelines and independently demonstrate good practice are lacking,” says Parsons.

“More needs to be done to inform companies of how to reduce the risk of harms resulting from their operations - which may be detrimental both to host country communities and their own bottom line - whilst also developing incentives to ensure such responsible business is the expected norm”.

Chloe Dempsey is the China Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

“Despite announcing final victory, we must remain vigilant… for terrorism is an eternal enemy.”

When Prime Minister Haider al-Abadi called for vigilance in the face of terrorism at the end of 2017, it was with the knowledge that the future peace and prosperity of Iraq rests on a knife-edge.

The city of Ramadi exemplifies the current challenges faced by Iraq. Liberated in the dying days of 2015, Ramadi was left in ruins. Two years on, 70% of the city remains uninhabitable and more than 22,000 residents have been displaced. With newly liberated areas facing the same future, the government risks alienating many communities, thereby providing fertile ground for multiple budding insurgencies to grow in power.

A large piece of the puzzle lies in securing the funds for reconstruction. Iraq has an economy highly dependent on oil, making up over 90% of fiscal revenue. Its commitment to OPEC mandated production limits, combined with a depreciated price of oil, has served to exacerbate an $8.5 billion budget deficit. With only 2% of this year’s budget — $ 1.84 billion USD — directed to reconstruction efforts and a damage bill of $45-100 billion USD, it’s clear Iraq’s rebuilding efforts cannot be undertaken alone.

In response to this, Iraq’s foreign minister has called on the international community to do its part and formulate a Marshall plan for the reconstruction of Iraq — but donors have been slow to respond. Iraq’s biggest backer remains the World Bank, with a $400 million USD assistance package targeting recently liberated areas. Unwilling to match its wartime contributions, the US has pledged only $150 million USD for reconstruction efforts, a third of which will target religious minority communities. Similarly, the EU has promised approximately $140 million USD stretched across multiple programs. And while a number of other states have pledged sums in the tens of millions, the short fall is in the tens of billions.

To address the funding gap, Abadi has proposed a 10-year reconstruction planfunded by public-private partnerships. As a direct consequence, the UK has made $12 billion USD in loans available for companies engaged in Iraqi infrastructure projects. It comes in addition to $780 million USD already committed by the Japanese government for joint ventures. Closer to home, Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and GCC are all engaged in talks with the Iraqi government to spearhead reconstruction and recovery through commercial partnerships.

Key to securing further international support will be this month’s reconstruction and development conference hosted by Kuwait. The Iraqi government is set to release feasibility studies and licences for 157 small, medium and large-scale investment projects all backed by guarantees from the World Bank — a first for the institution. Over 950 Investors, government officials and organisations from around the world are expected to attend the conference. The World Bank’s updated evaluation on infrastructure damage will also be presented at the conference, with reports suggesting the bill could be revised by up to $150 billion. While this is certainly a step in the right direction, reports suggest the conference is only expected to raise $18 billion – a far cry from the hefty sum that is needed.

Investor reluctance is in large part due to the engrained culture of graft, which has seen Iraq consistently ranked among the worlds most corrupt nations. Of the $60 billion spent by the US on reconstruction during the Iraq war, nearly 15% was wasted.

Keenly aware of the problem, Abadi has declared war on the country’s corrupt. In a three-part strategy the government has vowed to track down those responsible for funnelling close to $100 billion USD overseas, launch investigations into officials involved in 6,000 failed projects totalling almost $250 billion USD, and scrutinise irregularities around the central bank’s currency auctions. As evidence of Abadi’s resolve, the plan’s announcement coincided with the arrest of officials from across government and commercial institutions, and was closely followed by the indictment of governors from both Basra and Anbar on graft charges.

What’s not clear is how far Abadi is willing to take reforms of Iraq’s political culture. Sceptics point out his hard-line towards corruption plays well in the public sphere ahead of May’s general election, but acts as a convenient tool for disposing of political rivals. It’s reasonable to expect that donors and investors will wait to see who their man in Baghdad will be following next month’s ballot.

Mr Abadi is making all the right noises on corruption, but an electoral victory is far from certain and it remains unclear how committed to the task he’ll remain post-election. Should he be replaced, neither of his rivals has shown the same willingness to champion an anti-graft campaign. If Iraq is to escape the cycle of violence, it needs Abadi to carry the anti-corruption torch into 2018 and bring the international community to the Iraqi reconstruction table.

James Baylis is the Middle East and North Africa Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

Australia is vocal in its commitment to foreign aid and sustainable development, and yet successive budgets reveal a different reality, where reductions in such investments have become the norm over a number of years. But Australia needs to take a strategic approach to aid as a critical tool in its foreign policy repertoire.

There is significant criticism directed towards the Chinese aid program given the lack of long-term sustainability delivered to receiving countries, and there is evidence to warrant such critiques. Earlier this year, International Development Minister Concetta Fierravanti-Wells alleged that Chinese foreign aid administered through its Pacific programs were unsustainable and were developing "roads to nowhere". Although the critique is not unheard of, and not completely disregarded by Foreign Minister Julie Bishop during her prompt conciliatory message, it was a bold move that attracted significant political heat for the Turnbull government.

Unsurprisingly, both China and Samoa formally protested against the comments, criticising Australia for not considering the "facts", and for ‘"insulting" numerous Pacific leaders. Bishop’s decision to clarify Australia’s position, but not apologise for the comments, is particularly indicative of the view the Australian government holds on foreign aid.

Several Australian political leaders have previously alluded to concerns over foreign aid programs that do not appear to be sustainable. However, fears of the potential political repercussions of making such statements have largely silenced criticism on the topic. But as China’s presence and influence in the region continues to grow, it is paramount that Australia reassess its relationship with foreign aid.

There are numerous existing arguments against the sustainability of the financial aid programs being rolled out by China, including its ‘One Belt, One Road Initiative’ that provides the framework for strengthening a China-centre trading system. Although it seems as though Minister Fierravanti-Wells’ comments were made without real consideration of how the delivery would be received, there is certainly a growing discourse that highlights the problematic nature of the loan system set up by the Chinese.

However, the diplomatic row exposes more than just the fine diplomatic balance that is required in the region to assuage the PRC. It also highlights the significant failures of Australia’s own foreign aid program, and the ramifications this is beginning to have on Australia’s regional influence. The Samoan Prime Minister argued in favour of Chinese foreign aid, declaring that the Chinese were far better positioned to support the financial needs of his country than Australia.

Extensive cuts to foreign aid under former Prime Minister Tony Abbott have become a trend for successive budgets. Despite numerous claims regarding Australia’s commitment to overseas development, including in the most recent DFAT Foreign Policy White Paper, Australia now spends only0.22% of GNI on foreign aid (as announced in the 2017 Federal Budget). Australia’s capacity to demonstrate itself as a leader and collaborator in the region continues to deteriorate as a result. A diplomatic incident such as this only further exacerbates the divide between Australia and its neighbours, exposing its failure to make an impact on development in these countries.

The ongoing trend to reduce foreign aid is now a blatant fund reprioritisation that diminishes the effectiveness of one of Australia’s core foreign policy tools. Australia may never have the capability to compete with economic powerhouses like China or America, but targeted aid could contribute to the formation of key strategic alliances.

Given the significant wealth being invested in the ‘Belt and Road Initiative', China has forged itself a strategic and economic pathway to achieving political influence that may become unstoppable. Australia has an opportunity in the region to continue leveraging key partnerships to position itself as a leader — but in order to do so it must accommodate the new international order that accompanies China’s disruptive methods. The ‘Belt and Road Initiative' is an unconventional approach, whereby China utilises its financial power in a strategic manner to achieve political influence and increase economic integration within the surrounding region. Such a technique further entrenches China’s position as the core component from a business, trade and diplomatic sense.

Recognising the importance and significant value of foreign aid is vital, as it has now been demonstrated that there are countries prepared to significantly invest in the Pacific and the region more broadly. If Australia is unable to reach similar levels of engagement and support, it will impede its own capacity to achieve the respect and political influence required for it to act as a regional leader.

The current international political climate is ripe for Australia to advance its bilateral and regional partnerships, not only from a regional perspective with China’s growing influence, but also the significant ambiguity of American foreign policy. Australia has an opportunity to present itself as an alternative partner: a powerful, Western country that advocates for, and financially supports, sustainable development. This narrative has long been neglected, for fear of being considered a neo-colonialist approach. However, ensuring that Australia has a broad and equitable distribution of foreign aid can circumvent such concerns.

The longer Australia distances itself from a sustainable and impactful foreign aid program, the greater damage it does to its reputation and its bilateral relationships. With a wealthy benefactor such as China eager to distribute overseas development assistance, Australia risks losing the edge in its most important strategic relationships in the region.

Kate Jennings is the Australian Foreign Policy Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

Throughout history, Australia’s identity has been conditioned by its self-perception as the Anglo-American outpost of the south. Australia’s inherent geographical vulnerabilities and its affinity with European values underlie Australia’s historic pursuit for great and powerful friends, first Britain and then the United States (US). Following Britain’s failure to protect Australia from Japan in 1942, the broadly held view that the US had saved Australia from Japanese invasion prompted Australians to swap best friends, ditching Britain for the more powerful United States. On 29 April 1952, the Security Treaty between Australia, New Zealand and the United States of America (the ANZUS Treaty) was brought into force and was given concrete expression through Australia’s involvement in the Korean and Vietnam wars.

While the initial utility of the alliance for both security and economic purposes is broadly undisputed, by the late 1960s, the Asia-Pacific accounted for two-thirds of Australia’s imports and exports; bringing the importance of regionalism and multilateralism into sharp focus for Australian policy makers. Even though rhetoric at the time suggested an openness amongst political and intellectual elites to the consolidation of a new national identity based in Asia - take for example former Prime Minister Keating’s slogan ‘It’s all the go with Tokyo’ - Canberra has remained committed to the alliance and adamant that it can manage tensions between its economic and strategic interests implied by the dramatic rise of China.

This disjuncture in Australia’s foreign policy is given some explanation through looking at Australia as a liminal state, experiencing two worlds, old and new at the same time. In seeking to establish whether Australia should remain in the old, or transition to the new, we need to weigh up the costs and benefits of the ANZUS security alliance. ANZUS is a threat-orientated security alliance that was established based on shared fears pertaining to communism, a militarily resurgent Japan, and more recently, terrorism. Similarly, the benefits provided to Australia through the ANZUS alliance are also security and threat orientated, including access to US intelligence and military technology. In exchange for these military advantages, Australia pays a regular premium by hosting US technology at Pine Gap and lending a hand to the US with military action abroad.

The threat-orientated nature of the security ANZUS alliance is problematic and inherently dangerous to Australia’s future for two reasons. First, Australia openly acknowledges that it faces no threat from regional or global states and yet paradoxically persists with spending up to $10 billion a year on a military force that is designed to deter and combat military attacks that could only emerge from these very neighbours. The second problem is the resulting ambiguity amongst neighbouring states in the Asia-Pacific, confused by Australia’s fluctuation between a traditional military defence approach and a cooperative, regional security approach.

Despite Australia perceiving no direct threat from any regional or global countries requiring the military might or resources of the US, the reciprocal expectations of the alliance have sparked fear pertaining to Australia’s subordinate position in what is clearly a binary power dynamic favouring the US. That is, the alliance impinges on the ability of Canberra to manoeuvre in favour of Australian national interests when they do not correspond to those of the US. In a sort of security dilemma, Australia has become unconditionally entrapped by US military choke points, fearing abandonment by the US if they do not oblige.

Analogies have been cast comparing Washington’s expectations of Australia to those held by Britain preceding the Second World War, where Australian troops were sent across the world to bolster the military pursuits of the UK. A more recent example can be taken from the Iraq quagmire, where the Howard government sent forces into an effort lacking UN mandate, and largely understood to undermine rather than promote Australian security. A prominent commentator in this field, former Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser critiques Australia’s commitment to ANZUS, writing in 2015 that ‘we have effectively ceded to America the ability to decide when Australia goes to war’. This perception of Australia as an uncritical US proxy is particularly damaging for Australia’s regional interests, with political and intellectual actors in the Asia Pacific becoming increasingly concerned that Australia’s readiness to back US postures without reservation will be emulated in the Asia-Pacific region.

In what has been widely coined the ‘Asian Century’, Australia’s alliance with the US no longer parallels (as it once did) economic links to the US. With the economic geography of Australia making a major shift from West to East, particularly into China, accompanied by the relative economic decline of the US, serious questions arise pertaining to the regional costs of the ANZUS alliance for Australia. Looking to the future of Australian security, building on existing security cooperation with Japan seems like a logical first move. By strengthening security ties with Japan, Australia will be able to subdue much of the concern emanating from its regional neighbours pertaining to military engagement with the US and play a credible, non-threatening leadership role on regional issues without the explicit involvement of the United States.

It is time for Australia to abandon its insulation again the ‘reality of its own geography’ and realise that our strategic and economic potential as a nation lies in the Asia Pacific. For there is surely little doubt that Australia would be a far more prosperous and secure country if our neighbouring countries were similarly stable, secure and prosperous.

Rose is a University of Melbourne International Relations graduate & social policy researcher with a flourishing curiosity over Australia’s past, current and looming political chapters both domestic and abroad.

With a new year comes the opportunity for reflection on the year that has passed, and contemplation of the year that will be. For Japan, such reflection starts in December, when citizens choose a kanji character to embody the social and political developments of the preceding year. The kanji character chosen for 2017, “北” (kita or “North”), particularly reflected the escalating nuclear situation with North Korea.

It is interesting to consider what word could be chosen to represent the zeitgeist of international security in 2017. The United Nations and Wikipedia both provided lists of key news developments in 2017. Analysing these key events, it is clear that 2017 was dominated by one particular emotion – “outrage”.

Before considering these events in detail, it is necessary to clarify how exactly outrage played a political role in international security in 2017. Until very recently, there was little theoretical engagement with the political roles that emotions play in IR. In their seminal work published in 2014, Emma Hutchinson and Roland Bleiker sought to provide clear theoretical outlines for an ongoing research agenda. The key, they argued, was to theorise the actual processes through which individual emotions become collective and political.

Jonathan Mercer and Neta Crawford stressed that emotions are ‘inner states’ described to others as feelings. However, more than this, Mercer and Crawford emphasised the inter-subjectivity of emotions. Emotions are always related to and shaped by social, cultural and political contexts. They acquire political significance when they transcend the confines of an individual, physical body.

The Oxford Dictionary defines “outrage” as an emotion: ‘an extremely strong reaction of anger, shock or indignation’. As such, outrage becomes a collective emotion with political significance when it is a common response to international developments.

In 2017, several key events relating to people, place and power provoked a collective outpouring of outrage. First, in terms of people, President Trump consistently responded to international events with a barrage of insults. This was especially evident with his threats against North Korea, calling Kim Jong-un ‘rocket man’ and warning that the regime would be ‘utterly destroyed’.

Furthermore, Secretary-General Antonio Guterres joined other United Nations officials in demanding action on behalf of over 20 million famine-stricken people in South Sudan, Somalia, Yemen and Nigeria. He expressed outrage by stating, "[i]n our world of plenty, there is no excuse for inaction or indifference".

Likewise, the military operation against the Rohingya in Myanmar sparked international condemnation. This was verbally expressed by numerous international figures, including Turkey’s President Erdogan who labelled the actions "genocide", and Pakistani Nobel peace laureate Malala Yousafzai who said, “I have repeatedly condemned this tragic and shameful treatment. I am still waiting for my fellow Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi to do the same”. Outrage was also expressed by a number Muslim-majority countries in Southeast Asia. Indeed, the Maldives severed trade ties with Myanmar and Indonesia’s Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi met with Suu Kyi and other officials to pressure the government into doing more to resolve the crisis.

International conflicts in places were similarly characterised by the emotion of outrage. After the United States’ missile launch at an airbase in Syria, Russia immediately labelled this an act of aggression that would significantly damage US-Russia ties.

In addition, world leaders united to condemn North Korea’s numerous nuclear tests and missile launches in 2017. German Chancellor Angela Merkel and French President Emmanuel Macron stated that North Korea had "reached a new dimension of provocation" and the UN adopted tough new sanctions on North Korea in December.

And, the United States’ response to international outrage after declaring Jerusalem the capital of Israel was to threaten General Assembly members. As Ambassador Nikki Haley declared, "the US will remember this day, in which it was singled out for attack in the General Assembly for the very act of exercising our right as a sovereign nation".

Finally, in terms of events relating to power and ideas, President Trump withdrew from international agreements such as the Iran deal, the Paris Accord and UNESCO, labelling them as "bad" deals.

In sum, all the above events were characterised by the political emotion of outrage. Yet, most interestingly, while outrage was a collective response, it did not result in constructive political action in 2017. Instead, the world largely remained paralysed when it was confronted with such troubling international developments.

But there is hope. Success in 2017 occurred when international responses were characterised by the emotion of calmness or tranquillity, "the state or quality of being free from agitation or strong emotion". This was particularly evident in action relating to power and ideas such as global action on climate change, the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear weapons, the work ofthe International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia and the peaceful resolution to the conflict in Colombia.

Ultimately, meaningful change occurs when our collective political response is calm and measured. Such quiet transformation, perhaps already occurring in North and South Korean diplomatic talks, is the real lesson going forward in 2018.

Rebekkah Markey-Towler is the International Security Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

Since the 20th Century, successive governments and leaders of the United States and the United Kingdom have repeatedly highlighted the strength and longevity of the alliance between the two countries. However, the ‘special relationship’ of the US and UK is now increasingly being tested by the unexpected election of President Donald Trump and uncertainties surrounding the future of the UK upon completion of the Brexit process.

The election of Trump was initially welcomed by UK Prime Minister Theresa May and her government – with the election of the populist Trump being welcomed as a key to her country’s survival and potential success in a post-Brexit world. However, ten months of controversial foreign policy decisions and repeated interventions in the UK’s political and security debates by President Trump and his administration have strained the once stable alliance.

The ‘special relationship’ was first put under pressure within hours of a seemingly amicable meeting between US President Donald Trump and UK Prime Minister Theresa May shortly after his inauguration in January 2017. This was due to President Donald Trump’s signing of a controversial travel ban on several Muslim majority nations. Throughout the first year of his presidency, President Donald Trump’s many controversial foreign policy decisions – including his unpopular stance on the Iran nuclear deal, his aggressive interactions with North Korea, and his withdrawal of the United States from the Paris Climate Accord – have forced Prime Minister Theresa May and other leaders in the United Kingdom to provide public rebukes of their oldest ally.

President Donald Trump’s controversial decision to retweet anti-Muslim videos shared by far-right political group Britain First and his subsequent war of words with Prime Minister May in November of 2017 are just the latest developments in a series of tense exchanges and foreign policy disagreements between the leaders of the two countries.

Prime Minister Theresa May joined in the global condemnation of the retweeting. In response to President Trump’s recommendation that she focus her attentions on terrorist attacks on UK soil, May responded by saying that ‘the fact that we work together does not mean that we are afraid to say when we think the United States have got it wrong, and to be very clear with them’.

It is public disagreements such as these that threaten the status quo of trust and stability that defines the once ‘special relationship’, and which undermines the credibility of the strength of this relationship – an aspect that is relied upon during periods of insecurity and uncertainty.

However, while its credibility may be damaged in the short-term future, the special relationship has proven to be resilient, enduring several wars, disputes, and disagreements. Tim Oliver, an expert in Europe-North America relations at the London School of Economics, emphasises that this relationship has the ability to endure periods of uncertainty and tension as ‘the core US-UK special relationship is co-operation in nuclear weapons, special forces and intelligence '. However, Oliver admits that President Donald Trump is putting pressure on the alliance ‘in ways we have not seen before’. Therefore, the strength of and value placed on the special relationship between United States and the United Kingdom means that it will most likely be able to endure this unpredictable period in global politics.

The governments of the two countries will continue to work closely on issues that will mutually benefit themselves and their respective populations, and the many disagreements between the two leaders may eventually be forgotten. However, it is difficult to determine with certainty as to the exact amount of pressure that the 'special relationship' between the United States and the United Kingdom can withstand in the uncertain future that lies ahead.

Meghna Srinivas is the United States Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

The quality of urban transportation systems is a key defining factor separating Asia’s developed and developing nations. Hong Kong, Seoul, Singapore, Tokyo and Beijing are praised for their world-class urban transportation systems (ranked on the 2017 Sustainable Cities Mobility Index as numbers one, four, eight, thirteen and sixteen respectively). Whilst Manila, Ho Chi Minh City, Jakarta and Delhi are notorious for their transportation failures.

A poor transport system is not just an inconvenient reality, it is a key barrier to economic progress and a depressant of human and environmental health.

As the world’s most densely populated city, Manila’s chaotic traffic jams choke $2 billion Philippine pesos ($40 million USD) worth of national productivity every single day. Morning and evening peak travel times showcase the shortcomings of Manila’s transport system as hundreds of people queue just to enter the train station or board a bus. In the Philippines, air pollution is responsible for an incredulous 1 in 4 of all deaths nationwide.

Vietnam is another example of urban transportation and air pollution disgrace. 8,000 new bikes and 750 cars hit Vietnamese streets every single day. Private vehicles offer a quick-fix solution to the deficient public transport system, which meets only 5% of Ho Chi Minh City’s (HCMC) travel demands, and 7.5% of Hanoi’s needs. In 2016, the average carcinogenic particulate matter reading (an air pollutant primarily released from fossil fuel combustion engines) in Hanoi was five times higher than the annually average level recommended by the World Health Organization.

Why are Asia’s developing nations frequently characterised by deficient transport systems and air pollution?

There is an inextricable relationship between a thriving GDP, robust public transport system and improved air quality. Deficient transport systems not only detract from mobility and business productivity, but deplete our precious human and environmental resources that constitute the economy.

Let’s look at Japan – a global leader in transportation and pioneer of the high-speed rail network. Built over 50 years ago, the bullet train remains the gold standard for efficient travel today (with an average delay time of less than a minute) and has helped Japan’s technical and economic ascension. Research reports estimate the time saving on the Shinkansen train network to be worth a significant $4.8 billion USD per year.

Comparatively, the Vietnamese government’s investments in transport exist far more fervently on paper than in reality. Whilst metro train lines are currently being constructed in both HCMC and Hanoi, both are severely over budget and delayed. HCMC’s metro Line 1 (of 10 lines) is now 3 years behind schedule and $1.09 billion USD over budget. This is even despite Japan covering 88% of the revised $2.49 billion USD budget. Japanese contractors have since filed for more than $90 million USD compensation due to delays.

How much chaos does it take to make governments prioritise public transport systems?

Despite being just as famous for its curries as its standstill traffic jams, India is catching on. Japan’s 320km/hour bullet train may be India’s ticket to an improved economy, supported by a collaboration between the two nations. Its use in India is intended to resurrect the current dilapidated urban transport system. Japan’s Prime Minister Shinzo Abe inaugurated India’s first bullet train project in September 2017, worth $19 million USD and financed at 0.1%.

Another common factor about Asia’s most polluted cities? Over-population.

Shanghai has taken initiative on the population front, promising to cap the city’s population at 25 million to battle ‘big city disease’. Over-population and rapid urbanisation place great strain on urban transportation systems. If cities do not supply sufficient access to basic services and supporting infrastructure, they will become plagued by environmental pollution, traffic congestion and public service shortage. Growing private vehicle ownership, common in nations with a rapidly rising middle class, further complicates strategies to enhance mobility and reduce pollution.

An efficient transport system, as witnessed in many cases across Asia, improves mobility and reduces air pollution. This supports a healthier, more productive population. The result? Benefits compound and economies thrive.

Unfortunately, without genuine investments in transport, developing Asia will continue to choke in its own smog.

Alexandra Devlin is the Climate Change and Energy Security Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

The Indo-Pacific is one of the world’s regions most at-risk of suffering the negative effects of climate change predicted to unfold over the coming decades. The “threat multiplier”, whereby climate change exacerbates existing threats, presents a clear security threat to both the Indo-Pacific region and the rest of the globe. Australia is no exception.

In 2017, the Climate Risk Index (CRI) published the top ten most climate affected countries between 1996 and 2015. Of these, six were located in the Indo-Pacific. Due to its low-lying land and already warm climate, the region is at high-risk of extreme weather events, including flooding, tsunamis, cyclones and extreme storms. Of the 25 cities most exposed to a one-metre rise in sea levels, 19 are in Asia, with seven located in the Philippines alone. Global rankings calculating vulnerability consistently identify some of the world’s largest and fastest-growing economies as some of the highest at-risk countries. Notably, the world’s soon-to-be most populous nation and top four economy, India, is the second most at-risk country in the world.

There are many convincing moral and ethical arguments for providing support to the Indo-Pacific and working to reduce carbon emissions; but if these arguments are not enough, the security and financial risks posed to Australia while the Indo-Pacific remains under such critical threat should give policymakers pause to think. This threat is irrefutable and real, and such is its scale that it demands immediate action.

The Paris Agreement of 2015 highlighted the important role that Asia and the Pacific must play in combatting climate change, calling for private and public investment in both decarbonising Asia and mitigating the effects of climate change – in short, to provide aid in the event of severe disasters, and to contribute to building defences.

In addition, Australia’s 2016 Defence White Paper noted the nation’s commitment to its leadership role in responding to disasters, particularly in the Pacific, and acknowledged that climate change will increase the prevalence of such disasters. Flooding, cyclones, typhoons and severe storms, experienced particularly in the Indo-Pacific due to its already tropical environment, have negative impacts on growth, cause economic disruptions and destroy infrastructure.

These disasters carry with them obvious and immediate consequences, such as the cost of rebuilding, rescue and recovery, providing logistical support and developing preventative structures. However, long-term inaction in this space threatens much larger consequences. As climate change continues to develop, natural disasters will become more severe and more frequent, and as the demise of newly rebuilt areas becomes inevitable, the incentive to rebuild reduces. Damage then becomes frequent at best, and permanent at worst. This has the potential to undermine institutional capacities, particularly government and public services.

In a snowball-style deterioration, lack of services and efficiency, coupled with exposure to the harrowing effects of climate change, will likely increase political and social unrest, and in extreme circumstances, cause domestic conflict as services and protection became inefficient and/or scarce. In these instances, Australia is committed to providing support. This would increase foreign aid costs, reducing funds available in other areas of government spending.

Permanent damage also has the potential to incite mass migration and refugee crises in some of the world’s most vulnerable areas. As the Indo-Pacific contains low-lying land, rising sea levels and intense flooding from severe storms may render swathes of land uninhabitable. It is likely that populations will seek to relocate before this point. 13 of the top 20 cities with the largest growth of annual flood losses between 2005 and 2050 are in Asia and the Pacific, including Ho Chi Minh City, Jakarta, Mumbai, Bangkok, and Xiamen. The 13 are currently home to over 100 million people. If these populations spill into surrounding areas, which are some of the poorest in the world, already high levels of poverty will increase drastically, putting extreme pressure on services, governments, and aid. Ultimately, this will result in mass desperation and conflict, and quite possibly war as instability increases in areas that have experienced huge influxes of environmental refugees. Australia is the closest safe haven for many of these cities, with a huge land mass and relatively little exposure to flooding. Not only would this significantly increase aid costs for Australia, the influx of refugees would also put large strains on institutional capacity to process migrants and refugees, if Australia were to accept them at all. This poses a huge security threat to its borders that would be difficult to manage in a timely manner.

Australia has a direct interest in mitigating climate change for many reasons. It needs to invest in developing policies that not only provide aid and defence to areas exposed to climate change, but in real and global measures to prevent the growth of climate change itself. Reactive policies like defence and aid are needed in the current climate, but Australia has to continue to invest in proactive measures that reduce carbon emissions across the globe if the policies and efforts in providing aid to its neighbours are to not be in vain.

Emily Wise is the Indo-Pacific Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

This article is part of a two-part series examining peace and security on the Korean Peninsula.

As tensions continue to escalate between North Korea and the US over the issue of denuclearization on the Korean peninsula, Western policymakers and politicians alike must recognize that military intervention of any nature should be considered only as an absolute last resort.

With the emergence of Trump onto the world stage in 2017, US policy on North Korea has assumed a distinctly hawkish tone; one unparalleled since President Bush proclaimed North Korea to be a member of the “axis of evil” in 2002. This tone has been echoed by certain members of the international community who are advocating for immediate pre-emptive military action against North Korea as a final solution to a complex issue.

In such circumstances, international relations theory mandates considering the tenets of Just War Theory. The theory addresses the justifications of how and why wars are fought, the aim of which is to guide states in potential conflicts, motivate alternative means of conflict resolution, and assess the justification for wars.

History is arguably cyclical, and while the contentions that precipitated the invasion of Iraq in 2003 may have fallen out of recent collective consciousness, its cautionary lessons compels observance.

The rules of conflict

Edward Luttwak’s recent article asserts that US policy-makers should not be paralysed by fears of direct retaliation by North Korea upon Seoul and its 20 million inhabitants (and countless foreign residents). Luttwak outlines that the precarious circumstances on the peninsula have been “self-inflicted”, as the South Korean government has been reluctant to relocate its populace beyond the geographical reach of conflict. This impatient dismissal of the humanitarian cost of a conflict of this scale demonstrates a nefarious desire for conflict and a frightful degree of recklessness.

When examined under the lens of the Just War theory, Luttwak’s argument breaks-down in several key aspects.

Just War Theory

The suggestion of a pre-emptive surgical strike on North Korea, without any imminent danger to South Korean or US citizens, does not amount to a just cause for a just war.

In August of 2017, there emerged claims that North Korea had finally attained the ability to miniaturise a nuclear warhead, thereby providing it with the capability to mount a warhead atop a missile and striking the US mainland. However, this development is just one link in the wider chain required to field an effective nuclear deterrent. Closer inspection of their weaponry indicates that the North remains distant in posing a credible nuclear threat to the US. It lacks a proven track record of successful launches, a proven re-entry system, and a proven miniaturised nuclear warhead.

Secondly, a decision to go to war must be made with proper authority and by a public declaration. The US has assumed operational control of South Korean military forces since the 1950s, and while it has relinquished peacetime control back to the Korean government, wartime operational control remains under US authority. Such a situation remains highly controversial, and opens the possibility for the US to override the opinions and interests of South Koreans in order to engage in direct military conflict with North Korea. Offensive military actions on the peninsula cannot be legitimately conducted without the full assent and cooperation of the South Korean government and its citizens.

Finally, a declaration of war must be proportionate and have a high probability of success. Acknowledging North Korea’s present nuclear capabilities, and its proximity to high-population centers in East Asia, the possibility for any pre-emptive military action, surgical strike or otherwise, is effectively vitiated. Research has indicated that a nuclear attack conducted by North Korea in the event of a conflict would result in 2.1 million deaths in Tokyo and Seoul, and 7.7 million injuries. Moreover, the use of conventional weaponry alone would prove devastating, where an initial artillery barrage by the North on military and civilian targets in the South alone would immediately result in 33,000 deaths. This would then be followed by an estimated 20,000 deaths per day thereafter. It should further be kept in mind that this prediction does not factor in the long-lasting environmental impact of a nuclear weapon —including the dangers posed by radiation and the resulting electromagnetic pulse on property and national critical infrastructure.

Summary

Within such circumstances, it would not be hyperbole to summarise that a military conflict with North Korea has the potential to rapidly escalate into the most devastating conflict since World War Two – one with losers on all sides. Policy makers cannot seriously entertain the contentious and hawkish ideas of policy analysts like Luttwak without opening the floodgates to increasingly pernicious and destructive ideas.

Nonetheless, the question persists on how the international community can effectively address the issue posed by North Korea. For many years, the hermit kingdom has proven its resilience in the face of countless sanctions levelled against it by the US and its allies. Indeed, its continued survival has largely been attributed to the North receiving blatant material support from its Russian and Chinese allies, in contravention of UN sanctions.

This does not mean that the opportunities for a peaceful and diplomatic solution to the crisis have been exhausted. To do the same thing repeatedly and expect a different result is the very definition of insanity. The status quo cannot remain, and effective action cannot be executed upon the North, while the international community remains disjointed and divided in its responses.

The diversity of opinion and policy amongst international stakeholders must be reconciled through reciprocal multilateral dialogue, and a compromise reached as soon as possible, before the minute hand of the Doomsday Clock strikes midnight.

Jonathan Lim is the East Asia Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

Earlier this year, President Donald Trump took to twitter to threaten a moratorium on foreign aid payments to Palestine. The President wrote a series of tweets in which he criticised Palestine for its lack of “appreciation and respect” for the substantial aid it receives from the US, and its refusal to negotiate a peace treaty with Israel.

Since then, the nature of US development assistance to countries around the world has repeatedly been called into question. Trump’s tweets seemed to suggest that US foreign aid is a favour, or a charitable contribution, that only benefits the recipient countries.

This line of reasoning accounts for the State Department’s 30% budget cuts to foreign aid last year. The document, ‘America First, A Budget Blueprint to Make America Great Again’, justified this drastic reduction by arguing that "it is time to prioritise the security and wellbeing of Americans, and to ask the rest of the world to step up and pay its fair share”.

However, the anachronistic idea that development – via the vehicle of foreign aid donations – is motivated by altruism on behalf of the donor, with windfall gains for the recipient developing nation, is no longer evidenced in foreign aid patterns.

The exponential growth in foreign aid has been accompanied by a body of literature seeking to unravel when aid is most effective, and the relationship between foreign donors and recipient nations in shaping its delivery. Yet alongside the jump from $85 billion in 1990 to $147 billion in 2015 of development assistance from members of the OECD, little attention has been paid to the changes in what actually determines aid allocation – and the increasingly important role development is playing in the international community in the 21st century.

Following World War Two, foreign aid increasingly became a favourable policy tool in the Cold War bi-polar environment, and aid allocation revolved around the security and economic interests of the donor country, rather than the promotion of development in the receiving country. These geopolitically motivated aid donations declined in former clientele states as the Cold War came to a close and the Soviet Union collapsed. The Democratic Republic of the Congo (at the time, Zaire) was the recipient of $1.1 billion in aid from OECD member states when the regime actively rejected communism in the 1980s. By 1992, this amount had fallen to just $152 million.

The end of the Cold War saw a growing interdependence between states in the global community, a phenomenon attributed to increased globalisation. Issues that had hitherto only been experienced in developing countries started to spread to developed donor countries. These negative externalities – or spill-over effects – took the form of terrorism, trafficking of substances, disease and migration. Increasingly, the welfare of citizens in donor countries has become interlocked with the welfare of citizens from the developing world.

In her seminal article on aid allocation, Sarah Blodgett Bermeo argues that donor countries are increasingly motivated by so-called ‘targeted development’, which signals a water-shed change in development policy. Simply put, Bermeo claims “if the goal is to prevent problems such as conflict, mass migration, climate change, and others from having an impact on the donor, assistance will be targeted toward those states most likely to inflict these costs in the first place”.

The implications of this shift don’t just pose a challenge to the ‘moral vision’ of aid, but how aid itself is allocated. If aid donors are motivated by self-interest, then as Kilby and Dreher have suggested, “its allocation decision does not depend on how the recipient uses aid and the recipient might not select developmental policies”. Even more concerning is the idea that developing countries who are not as well connected to the developed world – and are therefore producing fewer spill-over effects in donor countries – will receive less aid.

Although studies on the effectiveness of these strategies are lacking, and perhaps the intentions behind aid allocation will not achieve the desired results, it will be interesting to see how countries like the United States, and other major development aid donors such as the United Kingdom and Germany, direct aid as a foreign policy tool as crises in areas like the Middle East intensify.

Hayley Pring is the International Trade and Economy Fellow for Young Australians in International Affairs.

Across the ages, mass media coverage has proven to be a significant influencer of scientific and policy discourse, as well as public attitudes and action. But, how influential is the media in driving public action towards the urgent challenge of climate change? Moreover, is it possible that the persistent and recurrent theme of climate change has potentially created a precarious atmosphere of monotony, saturation and lack of concern among civil society? In the same vein as continued mass shootings in the U.S. draw limited concern from residents, do we run the risk of having climate change impacts and even climate change inaction as simply a normal part of life? Are we so de-sensitised to climate change that news of its impacts draws limited concern, or are we simply at a loss as a society about what to do about it?

In the U.S., the proportion of people reporting concern over climate change since 2007 has decreased at an alarming rate. This shift in public opinion has been attributed to several different factors. One explanation touted to explain this swing is the increasing de-sensitisation of citizens to climate change.

A number of journalistic norms, such as personalisation, dramatisation, and novelty permeate throughout the media today. It is these characteristics that often lead to news that is embroidered, customised and embellished. A study by the Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research has found that the ‘disaster’ style story is the most common approach to the coverage of climate change in the UK. Although this approach to covering the topic may be effective at attracting short term attention, studies suggest this form is not as strong in motivating behavioural change. Instead, it was found that “nonthreatening imagery and icons that link to individuals' everyday emotions and concerns” tend to be the most effective at driving engagement and behavioural change.

It is not only the media that inscribes a philosophy of dramatisation, which can often lead to inundation and unresponsiveness. In politics, a similar story has been emerging. As recently as the Hilary Clinton campaign for the U.S. presidential election, James Cameron directed a short film titled “Not Reality TV” for the Democratic National Convention, which presented a dark outlook on hurricanes, agriculture, fires and drought. While this support from a high profile individual is important, the apocalyptic depiction may be exactly the sort of portrayal that is leading to the public's desensitisation to this critical issue.

Further, political impetuses have swayed coverage of energy security and climate change measures. This was evident in Australia with the depiction of policy ideas such as the mining tax and emissions trading scheme being the cause of much political quarrelling and fear-mongering “great big new tax”.

Considering these challenges, it is imperative that the intersection of political, public and media actors seeking change on climate change to be undertaken in a more considered manner. Moreover, the public conversation needs to be reinvigorated. A shift in the style of communication around climate change may go a long way to re-engaging the public on this issue. A movement away from dramatised accounts of climate change threats, which often trigger disbelief or reduced concern, to that of realistic policy solutions and actionable ideas are perhaps a key part of this solution.

Ultimately, bulk-media exposure of climate change is not merely a random amalgam of articles, television segments and broadcasting. In reality, the media helps facilitate and mediate the social relationship between scientists, policy actors and the public. We need to ensure that this is done in the right manner, or else we risk losing interest to the myriad of other topics that sit at the forefront of audiences' minds in today's ever-moving and ever-changing world.

Tom Perfrement is the Climate Change & Energy Security fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

On 23 November of 2017, the Australian federal government released the long awaited Foreign Policy White Paper. As the framework that will guide Australia’s future international engagement, the paper deftly wrestles with many issues that must be pondered during this period of unprecedented ‘uncertainty and change’. Among others, these include: US protectionism, Chinese growth, Pacific resilience and the rise of the Indo-Pacific region as an economic powerhouse.

The defining feature of these issues is an overwhelming concern about how to balance between a recalcitrant US and a globally ascendant China. Australia is now well aware of the intrinsic tensions that exist between its security interests and its trade interests. The White Paper advocates hedging against China by pursuing stronger ties with the US and other Indo-Pacific countries.

Central to Australia’s attempts to hedge China is a framework commonly termed the ‘rules-based international order’, a term favoured in Australian foreign policy circles. This is a reference to the liberal global order established post-World War Two that depends on a system of rules codified into international law, and that positions the US as world leader and rightful global hegemon.

Foreign Minister Julie Bishop’s favoured catchphrase is now ‘uncertainty’, and the White Paper recognises the rules-based global order is under threat as Australia faces its ‘most complex and challenging geostrategic environment’ since the Cold War. However, while the White Paper rightly posits that this rules-based international order is in Australia’s interests, it fails to consider whether it is realistic to expect that this order can and will endure.

Instead, it assumes that the rules-based international order will outlast any challenges to its legitimacy. This relies on several fundamental assumptions—namely, that China can be convinced to preserve the rules-based global order and that US nativism began and will end with Trump’s presidency.

However, it is too optimistic to believe that China, now a leading world power, will be happy to wholly endorse a status quo that does not reflect its interests, or to subscribe to a system of customs and rules that it had no say in establishing. Moreover, the liberalism of the current global order openly threatens the philosophy of the Chinese Communist Party.

As China’s power grows, so too does its drive to remodel aspects of the rules-based international order to protect its own strategic interests and reflect those of other non-Western countries. The establishment of the Asian Infrastructure Bank proved China’s maturation as a leader in global governance willing to challenge Western leadership.

By focusing on mitigating China’s increasingly hawkish approach to international engagement, the White Paper fails to provide strategies for adaptation lest the lauded rules-based international order is redefined as China seeks a greater say on the world stage.

Likewise, the White Paper also makes the assumption that US leadership in the Indo-Pacific will endure. Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull has made repeated assurances that the US alliance remains Australia’s ‘single most important bilateral relationship in the world’. While the White Paper does recognise that US protectionism and isolationism poses serious threats to Australia’s interests, this is undercut by the judgment that the US’ ‘long-term interests will anchor its economic and security engagement in the Indo-Pacific’.

By emphasising the importance of a US-led global order, the White Paper presupposes that the Trump administration is the sole reason for the US’ about-turn on international engagement, and assumes that Australia can overlook Trump’s populist success as an impermanent anomaly. Yet the issues that propelled Trump’s meteoric rise – anti-elitism, increased fear of terrorism, structural inequality and lack of economic opportunities – are showing no signs of subsiding. While the US may retake its place on the world stage after Trump, this is by no means a foretold conclusion.

When the White Paper assumes that Australia can hedge against China by relying on a powerful US alliance in the Indo-Pacific, it fails to take into account the possibility of a new global order emerging. There is consequently little consideration of what this order would look like and how we can cement our prosperity and security within it.

It must be noted that the White Paper does acknowledge that the forces buffeting the world are unprecedented and likely to change our region in unpredictable ways. It places priority on securing deeper ties with other like-minded democracies in the region in order to contain Chinese power, namely Japan, India, Indonesia and the Republic of Korea. This policy stance doubtless influenced the reconvening of the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue on the sidelines of the ASEAN summit in November.

Nevertheless, there is too great an emphasis placed on minimising the risk of change at the expense of debating viable strategies of adaptation. By relying too heavily on the perceived infallibility of the current rules-based international order, the White Paper has undertones of the bygone era of containment, presenting Australia as a country resistant to change that is clutching nostalgically at the clearer world order of the Cold War.

Emma Squires is the Australian Foreign Policy Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

The official date for Brexit – set for midnight on March 29, 2019 – is fast approaching, and although it is tempting to see 2019 as the end of the Brexit tale, it is more accurate to see this date as the end of the first book in a perilous trilogy for the UK.

The end of 2017 was a time of mixed results in th

The rights of EU citizens in the UKNo hard border existing between Northern Ireland and the Republic of IrelandThe final settlement of the UK’s 52 billion euro divorce bill

Mid-December also saw Prime Minister May’s government being forced to accept amendments to the so-called ‘Henry VIII’ powers in the EU Withdrawal Bill, with May suffering her first Commons defeat on Brexit when 11 of her government’s MPs voted against the leadership.

Although 2017 ended with some progress finally being made on Brexit, a look forward into 2018 and beyond reveals the numerous pitfalls that the UK will soon be forced to navigate.

The EU and the UK will soon move into the second phase of negotiations, which will primarily focus on transitional arrangements post March 2019. For the UK, this will be the key period for negotiating trade arrangements between the UK and the EU common market. At this stage, it remains unclear what such trade arrangements may look like, with an arrangement similar to that existing between the EU and Canada looking to be the frontrunner option, and one which is far more palatable than a reversion to WTO standards. Meanwhile, the EU will undoubtedly be seeking to keep the UK in line with its current standards, an arrangement wherein the UK will have no say in the rules it will be subject to until the end of the transition period.

The parties will have much to talk about and act on in 2018, and not that long to do so.

Although it is tempting to think so, Brexit negotiations have not been occurring in a regional vacuum. Notably, Australia and New Zealand are already eager to commence free trade negotiations with the UK, and both nations have already begun discussions with the EU. For the UK, post-Brexit will be a precarious time wherein it will finally have the capacity to enter its own free trade arrangements, and will indeed be under pressure to conclude such agreements quickly to remain competitive on the international stage.

Compared to countries such as Australia, which has a trade negotiating team sharpened against the whetstone of many recent and ongoing trade agreements, the UK’s small and inexperienced trade negotiation team will be ill-prepared to make the most of the UK’s considerable economic strengths. In a time where investor confidence is at an all-time low, the UK is caught between the need to quickly establish favourable trade agreements, and its own inexperience that will undoubtedly make delivery of such favourable agreements a difficult task.

Every step forward has been hard fought, both in the UK and beyond, and much more progress will need to be made to ensure a clean Brexit. For May in particular, Brexit in 2017 has been a trial.

But as they say, a New Year, New May.

Dylan Hubbard is the International Trade and Economy Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

US President Trump’s recent decision to move the American Embassy in Israel from Tel-Aviv to Jerusalem has dominated international politics and media coverage. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a religious, political and territorial struggle well known across the globe.

However, territorial conflict is not unique to the Middle Eastern region. The site of a little known territorial dispute lies just 472 kilometres away, across the Mediterranean Sea, in a country that has been occupied for 44 years. This country is the most southern of the European Union nations, Cyprus.

For hundreds of years, Cyprus was home to a minority Turkish-Cypriot population. In the late 1960s to early 70s, there was significant internal political instability in the country following Cyprus’ declaration of independence from Britain. This was due to the rise of the EOKA-B, a military junta who campaigned against the then President Makarios and who fought for union with Greece. This period of turmoil was brought to an end in 1974 when the EOKA-B staged a successful coup d’état against the government.

Fearing that union with Greece would lead to Turkish-Cypriots losing rights in Cyprus, Turkish troops landed in and invaded northern Cyprus in July 1974. By mid-August, Turkey had occupied 40 per cent of the country, known as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. The invasion ultimately led to the displacement of thousands of Greek-Cypriots, as well as the deaths of Greek and Turkish-Cypriots alike. The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus is not recognised by any country other than Turkey.

At the end of last year, Turkish President Erdogan undertook an unexpected state visit to Greece. Since the failed coup in early 2017, Erdogan has lost many friends in the European region and the trip across the Aegean was believed to have been motivated by a desire to fix diplomatic relations with a country that is also unpopular in the region.

However, Erdogan should not have been so quick to assume that Greece would be wiling to mend old wounds. In a press conference with the Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras, Erdogan stated that the reason the Cyprus issue is ongoing is because the Greek-Cypriots continue to walk away from negotiations.

In response, Tsipras clarified, “we must not forget that this issue remains open because forty three years ago it was an illegal invasion and occupation of the northern section of Cyprus.” Tspiras’ response made it clear that although Greece may have been willing to start building bridges across the Aegean, meaningful diplomatic relations are contingent on Turkey conceding to Cyprus on particular contentious matters.

So how is it possible that a country in one of the most peace-rich regions in the world remains so divided?

There are many similarities between the situations of Cyprus and Palestine. Most importantly, the countries’ belligerents, Turkey and Israel respectively, share one crucial commonality – they both have the unwavering support of the United States behind them.

In the international game of territories, it all comes down to whom you know. Although Turkey is not the most popular kid in the global playground at the moment, strategically they still have the two most important allies backing them – the United Kingdom and the United States. In 1974, the US Government placed an arms embargo on both Turkey and Cyprus, but President Carter lifted the embargo on Turkey just three years later. To this day, the embargo remains on Cyprus.

The UK and the US have had a long-standing tradition of supporting Turkey’s interest in the region due to its strategic position at the port of Europe and as a gateway to the Middle East – and this is unlikely to change in the near future. For example, the UK has two significant military bases in Cyprus, which provide it with ease of access to the Middle East.

Turkey and Cyprus have much shared history and culture. In 2017, we saw a push for change from all stakeholders, such as peace talks held in Switzerland in June-July. Although the situation in Cyprus is currently non-violent, the issue must be resolved in order to end the illegal Turkish occupation and allow for all people living on the island to live there peacefully and in unity.

The best hope for Cyprus is for a new generation of peacemakers to bring attention to the forgotten conflict and use common ground to help bring down the wire that divides a capital, a nation and a region.

Elena Christaki-Hedrick is the Europe and Eurasia Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Climate change is as much a security threat to the international community – the United States included – as North Korea’s nuclear weapons program. The US Department of Defense has long recognised this reality, and has incorporated climate change considerations into its planning. The 2018 National Defense Authorization Act

Yet the Trump administration’s first National Security Strategy (NSS), also released this month, omits any mention of the risks posed by climate change. Instead, the NSS rails against what it calls an ‘anti-growth energy agenda’, and urges the US to achieve ‘energy dominance’. Given the US president’s history of climate change denialism, this is not surprising. Nonetheless, such actions represent egregious negligence on behalf of the Commander in Chief in his duty to protect his country.

Climate change is a boring crisis. Amid a frenetic news cycle, it lacks the daily developments, wacky characters, and controversial scandals to keep it on the front page. That doesn’t lessen the severity of the problem. The international community’s delays have already all but ensured that the world will warm by more than 1.5°C this century. National commitments under the 2016 Paris Agreement will see the world exceed 3°C of warming by the century’s end. Dramatic cuts to carbon emissions are needed to ensure that the world avoids exceeding 2°C, itself an arbitrary limit and an unsafe level of warming.

The 2017 NSS declares economic prosperity to be a ‘pillar of national security’, but does not address the economic costs incurred due to climate change. An OECD report in 2015 calculated that without the necessary action to limit climate change, the annual GDP of the G20 economies could be reduced by as much as 3.3 per cent by 2060, even if it is assumed (somewhat dubiously) that economic growth rates are unaffected. If growth rates are impacted, the effect will be much larger. Among the damage will be more frequent natural disasters, reduced food production, both from crops and fisheries, and rising sea levels causing havoc to existing infrastructure.

Associated with this will be massive security challenges. Worldwide, there are 1,774 US military bases situated along coastlines. Diego Garcia, an island in the Indian Ocean just one metre above sea level, functions as a US military logistics hub and plays an important role in the global positioning system. Rising sea levels could soon see it submerged. The naval and air bases on Guam, vital to the US military’s presence in East Asia, could also be rendered inoperable by natural disasters.

Climate-related damage to US military readiness, already under strain, will soon be exacerbated. The melting of the Arctic opens a new venue for strategic competition. Instability caused by food prices, drought, and poverty will increase the risk of civil conflict. Migration, already a threat in the eyes of the Trump administration, will become a larger challenge than it is today. Civil conflict, food shortages, and displacement by rising sea levels will inevitably force millions to move in search of security. US Secretary of Defense James Mattis has stressed that these problems are not a distant possibility, but a crisis happening now.

The US military’s efforts to adapt to these threats are important. But adaption must be accompanied by mitigation policies to limit climate change in the first place. Here, the Trump administration is sabotaging US and international security. In 2017, President Trump: revoked the Clean Power Plan, which aimed to reduce power sector emissions by 32 per cent by 2030; disbanded the federal advisory panel for the National Climate Assessment; told federal government agencies they needn’t account for the climate change impacts of their actions and projects; signalled his intention to reduce vehicle fuel-economy standards; and, infamously, notified the UN that the US will withdraw from the Paris Agreement.

The US cannot withdraw from the agreement until 4 November 2020 (one day after the next US presidential election), so American officials will continue to attend international climate negotiations. They will be a superpower doing nothing to lead the international community in the battle to combat climate change.

The good news for the rest of the world is that China has enthusiastically taken up that role. This month, China instituted a national carbon-trading scheme, twice the size of the European Union’s. China’s solar panel industry is also the world’s largest and growing rapidly. Furthermore, China has reportedly

The economic challenge of fighting climate change is less than the political one. Placing a tax on emissions is a market-friendly, conservative solution to combatting climate change, and one supported by international oil companies. A tax of US$25 per ton of carbon pollution (comparable with prices elsewhere) would bring in US$1.1 trillion over 10 years, which, after compensating poor families affected by price increases, would still leave an enormous amount for patching up the US national debt. Other studies have found that investments to switch to low-carbon energy sources would cost the world $44 trillion by 2050, but be entirely paid for by fuel savings.

Ignoring climate change will heighten security risks and damage the economy. And the longer we wait for Trump to get serious about the problem, the greater the cost.

Cameron Steer is the United States Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

On 2 December, upwards of 40,000 people gathered around Jakarta’s iconic National Monument to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the protests which saw blasphemy charges laid against the then Jakarta Governor Basuki “Ahok” Tjahaja Purnama. The rally, dubbed as a ‘reunion’, was organised for the ‘212 Alumni’—the over 500,000people that attended the anti-Ahok protests in the exact same spot just over a year ago. Although the rally drew an audience large enough to fill the pathways leading up to the National Monument, it was a clear disappointment in comparison to the fervour and sheer masses seen during the Ahok saga.

Roughly coinciding with the birthday of the Prophet Muhammad on 1 December, the rally began with a predawn prayer and finished with a midday prayer. During the rally, Rizieq Shibab, the leader of the Islamic Defenders Front (FPI)—a far right Indonesian Islamist political organisation that formed part of a coalition of Islamist groups advocating for Ahok’s prosecution—called for a Sharia-based Indonesia in a recorded sermon played to attendees. Rizieq is reportedly in exile in Saudi Arabia, with Indonesian police naming him as a suspect in a defamation and pornography case.

Another key player who made an appearance is the current Jakarta Governor Anies Baswedan. Baswedan, formerly part of current President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s cabinet, took the prestigious governorship as an independent in the run-off election following Ahok’s blasphemy-stained gubernatorial run. Ahok, who succeeded Jokowi as Governor of Jakarta in 2014, ran for the 2017 gubernatorial elections with the backing of Jokowi’s Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDI-P). Unsurprisingly, Baswedan was backed by Jokowi’s likely opposition in the 2019 general elections, the Great Indonesia Movement Party’s (Gerindra) Chairman Prabowo Subianto.

So how did the secular-Gerindra backed Baswedan—known for representing moderate and tolerant Islam—end up speaking alongside an organisation known for its hardline interpretation of Islam and vigilantism? And more importantly, what insight can this provide on the road to Indonesia’s 2019 general elections?

Baswedan is clearly engaging in a very tight balancing act—both his concurrent appeasement to the FPI crowd and disassociation to them is a testament to this. In the lead up to the gubernatorial elections earlier this year, Baswedan came under fire for giving a speech to the FPI in an apparent attempt to court the conservative vote in light of his rival’s ongoing blasphemous downfall. Baswedan also sparked controversy during his inauguration speech by using of the term pribumi, meaning native Indonesians (excluding Indonesian-born Chinese), to suggest that it was time to take back control of the country from colonial influences—another clear appeasement to the conservative vote.

On the other hand, Baswedan has also made attempts to distance himself from groups such as the FPI. In November, the lawyers of the FPI leadership expressed disappointment that Baswedan didn’t make an appearance at an event commemorating the 4 November 2016 anti-Ahok protests. In the lead up to the 2 December 212 reunion rally this month, Baswedan initially distanced himself from the event, remaining ambiguous about whether or not he had given the green light to issue a permit for the rally to go ahead.

Baswedan did “cave” in attending the 212 reunion rally, delivering a relatively tame speech in comparison to Rizieq. This demonstrates that although Baswedan’s personal beliefs may not necessarily be compatible with the FPI’s, he is certainly willing to exploit them for electoral gains—or is it the other way around?

The FPI will continue to exploit political situations by placing itself at the forefront of issues impacting Indonesia’s devout-Muslim community. Doing so further adds to the FPI’s support base, with successes such as the Ahok saga both legitimising their cause and bringing them closer into the fold, away from their traditional perception as being on the fringes of “mainstream” political Islam. Most recently, the FPI led a rally outside the US Embassy in Jakarta on 11 December in response to US President Donald Trump’s Jerusalem move.

In the lead up to the 2019 general elections (whereby both legislative and presidential elections will be held concurrently), the FPI’s influence will likely be most felt at the provincial level—this is where their extensive grassroots networks and human capital will count. Whilst Jokowi’s PDI-P and Prabowo’s Gerindra fight for seats in the People’s Consultative Assembly, as well as for the Presidency itself, an emboldened FPI will be seeking to further entrench its influence into the fray of mainstream political Islam.

Politicians seeking to further their electoral ambitions, from the local level up to the gubernatorial level at least, will likely seek to court the Islamic vote through engaging with groups such as the FPI. After all, they’ve already seen it succeed with Ahok.

Patrick Dupont is the Indo-Pacific Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

What is the role of the military in a democracy? While this is a somewhat abstract question, the unfolding political situation in Zimbabwe exemplifies its very real ramifications. In November, the Zimbabwean military placed President Robert Mugabe and his family under house arrest. While Major General SB Moyo explicitly disavowed that this was a military takeover, world leaders urged for a peaceful resolution to the situation. As per a spokesperson for United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres, Mr Guterres ‘underline[d] the importance of resolving political differences through peaceful means, including through dialogue and in conformity with the country's Constitution’.

So, what has led to the point where the military has assumed an ostensibly ‘caretaker’ role for Zimbabwe’s governance? At the risk of over-simplification, there are three core aspects to the current crisis: money, politics and the military. First, providing the bedrock for the broader political conflict, Zimbabwe has suffered from a number of severe economic crises over the past two decades. Between 2000 and 2008, Zimbabwe’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) nearly halved, ‘the sharpest contractionof its kind in a peacetime economy’ according to the World Bank. The poverty rate increased dramatically to more than 72%, a fifth of the population were left in extreme poverty, and basic services such as health care and education collapsed. By 2011, the nation ranked 173 out of 187 countries on the Human Development Index. Despite some resurgence in the following years, in 2016, Zimbabwe’s economic recovery again faltered, with the budget deficit rising to 10% of GDP. The ongoing crisis has been characterised by significant shortages of cash and the skyrocketing price of goods, leading to political tensions and anti-government protests.

Turning to the former political situation, President Mugabe was often decried as a dictator, guilty of widespread human rights abuses, corruption, economic mismanagement, and political repression. He ruled the country as the head of the Zimbabwe African National Union – Patriotic Front (ZANU-PF) since independence from colonial rule in 1980. However, at 93 years old and ahead of the election next year, people became accutely aware that the world’s oldest head of State was not going to be around forever. Reflecting this impending reality, on 6 November, Mr Mugabe fired Vice President Emmerson Mnangagwa for ‘traits of disloyalty’. Many saw this as the President paving the way for his wife, Grace, to become the Vice President and the eventual ruler of Zimbabwe. It was this perceived attempt to establish a Mugabe dynastythat sparked military action.

On 15 November 2017, armoured vehicles seized control of the State broadcasting service, locked down government buildings in the capital, Harare, and secured President Mugabe and his family under house arrest. In their public statement, the military guaranteed the security of the Mugabe family and asserted that they were ‘only targeting criminals around him who are committing crimes that are causing social and economic suffering in the country in order to bring them to justice’. There were reports of celebration and hope amongst the Zimbabwean people, and indeed, on 21 November, Mr Mugabe resigned and the ZANU-PF appointed ex-Vice President Mnangagwa in his place.

Amid the dire economic situation, the years of political misrule and now military intervention, Zimbabwe’s future is uncertain. Indeed, as some have emphasised, the downfall of the Mugabes will likely have ramifications across Africa with a number of leaders, including Yoweri Museveni in Uganda and Joseph Kabila in the Democratic Republic of Congo, facing increasing pressure to step down. Irrespective of what happens next, the military’s role provides cause for reflection, if not concern. Their stated purpose has been to ‘pacify a degenerating political, social and economic situation in [their] country, which if not addressed may result in a violent conflict’. At first glance, this could fall within the expansive description of the military’s role in Article 212 of Zimbabwe’s 2013 Constitution. This states that ‘[t]he function of the Defence Forces is to protect Zimbabwe, its people, its national security and interests and its territorial integrity and to uphold this Constitution’.

Yet, the military’s goal to remove ‘criminals’ in the Zimbabwean government seems to go beyond this protective function and steps into the bounds of executive (governance) action. There are very clearly delineated roles for the executive, legislature and military in Zimbabwe’s constitution. And this separation of powers is crucial for accountable and transparent government. Even if this military intervention is ‘successful’, such ‘military governance’ potentially establishes a worrying precedent. At the very least, while not phrased in the most delicate manner, as stated by Britain’s foreign secretary, Boris Johnson, ‘(n)obody wants simply to see the transition from one unelected tyrant to a next’.

Rebekkah Markey-Towler has completed a Bachelor of Arts majoring in International Relations and Political Science and a Bachelor of Law at the University of Queensland.

The son also rises

The pillars of the Kingdom are shaking. On 4 November, some 500 Saudi elites werearrested, including 11 princes, by a hastily thrown togetheranti-corruption committee. The man orchestrating this unprecedented crackdown was Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, or ‘MBS’. He claims to have restored upwards of $100 billion to the Saudi treasury, and will raise more through lucrative out-of-court settlements.

MBS’s political trajectory has been meteoric. In January 2015, King Abdullah died. He was succeeded by MBS’s father, the current King Salman, who initially appointed a nephew, Mohammed bin Nayef, as crown prince. MBS had to settle for Minister of Defence, Secretary General of the Royal Court, and chairman of the recently formed Council for Economic and Development Affairs, earning him the epithet, ‘Mr Everything’. In June, Nayef was pushed aside, and MBS has since become the Kingdom’s de facto co-monarch, ruling alongside his octogenarian father.

Whatever its stated purpose, the purge also clearly served to consolidate MBS’s authority. Among those arrested were Prince Miteb bin Abdullah, son of the late King Abdullah and once considered a possible contender for the throne, and Prince Alwaleed bin Talal, one of the world’s wealthiest men and another potential rival. Moreover, Miteb was relieved of his post as head of the National Guard, as was General Abdullah al-Sultan as commander of the navy, thereby securing MBS’s authority over all branches of the Saudi military.

This is not palace-intrigue as usual. Saudi inheritance has traditionally been agnatic, rather than patrilineal, meaning the throne has passed to the brothers of the deceased king, rather than their respective sons. The last six kings of Saudi Arabia have all been half-brothers by the various wives of the Kingdom’s founder, Ibn Saud. Hence, assuming MBS does succeed, he will not only be Riyadh’s first third-generation monarch, his ascension will signify a blunt concentration of power in the ‘Salman’ branch of the sprawling royal house.

Hydrocarbaholics anonymous

However, the drivers of this upheaval lay far deeper than MBS’s personal ambition. For the last 80 years, Saudi Arabia’s social contract has been underwritten by the fruits of the world’s second-largest proven oil reserves. Perhaps 90% of Riyadh’s budget comes from the state-owned hydrocarbon behemoth, Saudi-Aramco. The profits havebankrolled the profligate lifestyles of the princely elite, provided cradle-to-grave welfare for the Kingdom’s 21 million subjects, and paid out salaries for a workforce where public sector sinecures are the norm.

In 2014, oil prices collapsed. In 2015, Saudi Arabia announced a record budget deficit. By 2016, the Kingdom faced insolvency. Riyadh was left with no choice but to kick its oil-addiction, and undertake the painful process of cutting expenditure and finding ways to generate non-oil revenue.

MBS is spearheading the reform crusade. In April last year, he announced Vision 2030, a comprehensive modernisation program pivoting around a $2 trillion Public Investment Fund, and the construction of a $500 billion high-technology commercial zone called Neom in the Kingdom’s north-eastern extremity. The required capital will be raised by selling 5% of Saudi Aramco, an idea MBS first touted publicly last January in an interviewnext year, it will reportedly be the largest public offering of all time.

Spring from above

MBS has not limited himself to economic reform, however. He believesIslam has been wayward in Kingdom since 1979. In January of that year, Ayatollah Khomeini began proselytising Islamic Revolution to the world. By November, he had succeeded in inspiring an uprisingin Saudi’s predominantly Shiite Qatif province. At the same time, Juhayman al-Otabi’s jihadist militia stormed the Grand Mosque in Mecca itself. These events constituted traumatic affronts to the religious legitimacy of the Saudi monarchy, both from within and without. Then-King Khaled sought deliverance by empowering the Wahhabist clerical establishment, fuelling the ultra-conservative Islamic fundamentalism for which Saudi Arabia has since become infamous.

MBS seeksof their powers of arrest, restrictions on entertainment are being quietly lifted, and in September, Saudi women were permitted to independently acquire a driver’s license. These measures are admittedly slight, but nevertheless represent movement in a laudable direction.

Thomas Friedman has recently heralded MBS’s policy platform as the beginning of an Arab Spring from above. Other have expressed similar sentiments. However, the MBS agenda has more commonly been met with varying degrees of scepticism. He has been variously labelled an upstart, a hothead and a populist. The Saudi Aramco listing has been derided as ‘a mess’, big question marks hang over the viability of the Neom project, and real progress for women can never be made without dismantling Saudi Arabia’s male guardianship system. Moreover, MBS has not hesitated to arrest the odd activist, and has few qualms with the occasional purchase of a 550 million euro superyacht. For good or ill, the path MBS has charted into the 21st century modernity is much less Vaclav Havel than it is Lee Kuan Yew.

Cold wars in hot places

The main caveat on the reformer’s scorecard is a tremendously confrontational foreign policy. Against the backdrop of an escalating regional cold war with Iran, MBS has committed a series of costly errors. First, as newly appointed defence minister, in March 2015 he coordinated a military intervention into Yemen to push Iranian-backed Houthi militias out of Sana’a. Two years later, history has rhymed, and the war devolved into an expensive, strategic quagmire, accompanied by protracted humanitarian catastrophe. Indeed, on the evening of 4 November, the Saudis interceptedan Iranian-made missilefired at Riyadh by the Houthis.

Second, in June of this year, MBS organised a regional blockadeof neighbouring Qatar. The move was catalysed by a clandestine hostage dealbetween Doha and Shiite militias in southern Iraq, but conditioned by broader amities between Doha and Tehran. Among other things, Qatar and Iran share the world’s largest natural gas field. Six months later, Qatar remains unbent, undermining the integrity of the Gulf Cooperation Council.

Third, as the 4 November purge was unfolding, MBS was also forcing Saad Hariri to resign as Lebanon’s prime minister. Hariri is a dual citizen whose political influence in Beirut is drawn from the profits of a Riyadh based construction firm, Saudi Oger. His Future Movementhas functioned as the Saudi check on the Iranian-sponsored Hezbollah in Lebanese politics since 2009, but for whatever cloak-and-dagger reasons, Riyadh decided it was time to intercede. With Hariri effectively detained, the Saudis announced that Lebanon had declared waron the Kingdom, but the strange display of sabre rattling achieved little. Hariri has returned to Beirut and suspendedhis resignation.

The aggregate effect of these ventures has been to alienate allies, and exacerbate already extremely high levels of latent regional instability, without producing any concomitant strategic effect in pursuit of Saudi national interest. With the additional challenges posed by economic recession and political turmoil, Bruce Reidel of the Brookings Institute has been blunt: ‘a perfect storm is gathering around the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia’. The ambitious prospects of Vision 2030 will prove little consolation to anyone if MBS pushes the region into general war, or perhaps worse, internal collapse.

John Goldie is the Middle East and North Africa Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

The deadliest terror attack in Somalia’s history hit the capital, Mogadishu, on 14 October 2017. At least 358 people were killed, while more than 400 were injured when militants detonated a truck bomb laden with 350 kilograms of explosives. The blast occurred outside the Safari Hotel in Hodan district, diagonally opposite the Somali Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Within 30 minutes, a second blast hit the nearby Medina district, injuring scores more. Two weeks later, a suicide bombing and siege at the Nasa-Hablod hotel left another 27 people dead. These are the latest in a string of increasingly deadly attacks linked to al-Shabaab.

Al-Shabaab were driven from Mogadishu by African Union (AMISOM) troops six years ago, but the cycle of violence has continued. The insurgent group hold large tracts of territory in south-central Somalia and eastern Kenya, as well as a command centre in the northern Galgala Mountains from where assaults are planned and launched. In addition to localised violence that has killed 4,200 civilians in 2017 alone, major international attacks include Westgate Mall (in 2013, killing 67),Garissa University (in 2015, killing 147) and the laptop bombing of an airliner in 2016, as well as foiled plots in 2016 and 2017.

The al-Qaeda affiliate’s domestic and international activities have resulted in a growing presence of foreign forces in Somalia. In addition to 22,000 AMISOM troops, approximately 50 US soldiers were deployed throughout 2016. In May 2017, the US lost its first soldieron Somali soil since “Black Hawk Down”. By late 2017, the US presence had multiplied by 1000%. Over the same period, the US carried out an estimated 28 drone strikes, targeting al-Shabaab training camps, command centres and strongholds, in support of AMISOM objectives.

US operational specifics are rarely publicly available. However, troops are said to be primarily tasked with training Somali forces to ‘better fight al-Shabaab’. There are also recent reports of a growing Islamic State presence in semi-autonomous Puntland, which the US began targeting with airstrikes in early November. Northern Somalia’s physical proximity to Yemen poses additional challenges, with shipments of weapons—destined for both al-Shabaab and Islamic State—being intercepted on a regular basis.

Despite the ongoing attempts to train, equip and unify Somalia’s military, a cohesive and effective national armyremains many years away. Observers note the Somali government has not established effective control of its security services. For example, whether through ineptitude or collusion, the truck used in the 14 October bombing passed two security checkpoints without being searched. Furthermore, the Nasa-Hablod hotel attackers gained access to the site with government identification cards (which are allegedly purchasable from the official issuing authority for US$400). These examples are of critical importance, considering the AMISOM force is scheduled to withdraw in 2020, leaving the Somali authorities solely responsible for national security.

Earlier this year, the security situation was deemed too volatile to conduct an election. Subsequently, Somalia’s parliamentarians held a ballot and selected Mohamed Abdullahi Farmajo as president, with hopes to implement a nationwide one-person, one-vote system by 2020. In contrast, the self-declared state of Somaliland has enjoyed relative stability and economic growth. The territory remains diplomatically isolated, but has established a national government, army and currency. Furthermore, Somaliland conducted its fourth successful democratic election on 14 November 2017, electing Musa Bihi Abdias its fifth president.

Somalia has been plagued by civil war for almost three decades and without an effective government since Siad Barre was toppled by rebels in 1991. With the recent appointments of Farmajo and Abdi, there may now be an opportunity for Somalia to learn from Somaliland’s approach to peace. As unequivocal neighbours, it is in the interests of both state and de facto state to develop a collaborative approach to stability. Political effectiveness cannot be achieved without a major improvement in the security situation, but resolution remains elusive.

Remy Tanner is the International Security Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

In the corporate arena, climate change is both a friend and foe.

On the one hand, companies must adapt to growing regulatory, environmental, and consumer pressures and face a range of climate-related risks. On the other hand, for some corporations, taking effective action can turn risk into a sustainable competitive advantage.

In the absence of large-scale, sustained government action on climate change, individuals are increasingly placing their trust in business, specifically large multi-national corporations, to accelerate this ‘green’ change. However, there are disturbing warnings that despite our dependence on corporations to make a green transition, the overlap between market interests and green interests is weaker than once believed.

Are the world's companies leading the way in the fight against one of humankind’s greatest challenges, and can we depend on corporations and markets to address one of the gravest threats to our collective future?

Business has an enormous responsibility in addressing the challenges of climate change. A study from the World Bank revealed that from the world’s top 100 economic entities, 69 are corporations and only 31 are countries. Business is the world’s most prevailing economic force and is responsible for the lion's share of investment, spending and wealth generation. Moreso, businesses are substantial contributors to escalating greenhouse gas emissions. The Carbon Majors Report, reveals that just 100 companies and state owned entities have been the source of 71% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions since 1988. Australia’s BHP Billiton Ltd falls in at 20th on the list, contributing 0.91% of the world’s carbon emissions alone.

Fortunately, some businesses are starting to see climate change as a strategic risk, and are reducing consumption to avoid the most harmful climate impacts. Yet, while the idea of market capitalism reinventing itself around new technologies and processes that would wean us off our fossil fuel addiction is tempting, what really happens when market interests collide with environmental interests? Recent research from Harvard Business School, investigated the underlying tensions between the demands of radical decarbonisation and more basic business imperatives of profit and shareholder value, using Australian corporations as case studies.

Despite operating within different industry contexts (energy, manufacturing, banking, insurance, and media), ultimately, a common pattern of corporate response was noted: ‘initial statements of climate leadership degenerated into the more mundane concerns of conventional business activity’. Catalysts for this change were found to be varied, and included declining corporate fortunes, a shifting political context, new CEOs who promoted a “back to basics’ strategy, new fossil-fuel related business opportunities, and the dilution of climate initiatives.

Although it’s undeniable that some businesses are riding a sustainability boom, for many corporates, this research highlights a sad truth: we cannot rely on relaxed assumptions of corporate self-regulation and “market solutions” for business to lead the way out of the environmental crisis.

As pointed out in a New York Times piece, it’s also not the dishonesty of specific iniquitous corporations that is to blame. Volkswagen’s diesel scandal was only one of many carmakers that ‘deliberately exploit lax emissions tests’. The issue lies in the very system and structure in which our corporations and society operate. The issue lies in the unrelenting focus on generating short-term profits and maximising shareholder value.

Is there a solution? What is increasingly clear is that we need to move towards a society where shareholder value is replaced by ‘shared value’ as an end outcome. The connection between social outcomes and business outcomes is already strengthening. Take for example the launch of mobile banking technology to 200 million in developing countries via Mastercard and Visa. Shared value cannot solve every problem, but there’s an enormous space in which this concept can be harnessed to drive a new wave of productivity and innovation that not only advances profits, but also social or environmental outcomes.

Ultimately, if business could also be tied to environmental outcomes at its core—at the very concept of shareholder value—then we may be able to see an end to the market failure of business on climate change.

Tom Perfrement is the Climate Change and Energy Security Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Former President Ali Abdullah Saleh famously said ruling Yemen was like ‘dancing on the heads of snakes’. He controlled Yemen’s sectarian population and outmaneuvered his rivals for more than 30 years. Even after resigning from office following the Arab Spring, he formed a rebel coalition with the Houthi militia and became a key player in the capture of Sana’a, which catalysed the civil war. He has remained a pivotal figure throughout the conflict, acting as a conduit between unlikely political and military allies. However, on 2 December 2017, Saleh made a fatal misstep by publicly switching allegiancefrom the Houthi rebels to the Saudi-led coalition. Two days later, he was dead.

There was already speculation the alliance was fracturing prior to Saleh’s defection, with observers noting he had lost all political allies. It appeared the strongman had served his purpose, and the rebel movement was looking to clear the path for Houthi leader Abdul Malik al-Houthi to assume leadership—an eventuality that Saleh would most likely not have supported. Campaigning had already begun for al-Houthi to rule Yemen, with billboards erected across the capital. It’s therefore unsurprising that al-Houthi welcomed Saleh’s passing and stated his forces would continue to work toward their political objectives. This agenda may well have been Saleh’s primary motivation for reaching out to the Saudis.

Saleh’s announcement was interpreted by many as a last-ditch attempt to maintain his residual power, resolve military deadlock and lift the three-year siege that’s contributed to ongoing humanitarian crises. To the Iranian-aligned Houthi rebels, however, it was a coup. Following Saleh’s defection, violence in the capital rapidly intensified, with Houthi and Saleh loyalists turning on each other. Saleh fled Sana’a and was killed shortly after when his motorcade was attacked by Houthi forces. Needless to say, that was the end of the alliance.

At this stage in the post-Saleh transition, the Houthis are emboldened and Saleh’s General People’s Congress (GPC) is leaderless. For the GPC to remain relevant, Saleh loyalists are likely to make a decisive move against their former Houthi allies, who currently maintain de facto control of Sana’a and North-West Yemen. Unverified reports quote Saleh’s son, Ali Ahmed Saleh, as saying that he will lead the battle to ‘takebackYemen’. Meanwhile, Saleh’s nephew and military advisor, Tareq Mohammed Abdullah Saleh, is a prime candidate to command any ensuing operations against the Houthis. This situation requires close monitoring to see how the Saleh camp responds.

Houthi rebels currently have the upper hand in Sana’a and will seek to capitalise on their new-found autonomy. It’s likely that Saudi military action will escalate over the coming days to disrupt this momentum. There have already been reports of Saudi airstrikes against Houthi targets, such as the presidential palace. Saleh loyalists will take advantage of any Houthi losses to re-establish their own credibility.

After six years of civil war and more than two years of intervention, the Saudi-led coalition has been unable to accomplish an acceptable end-state. Ongoing involvement continues to weaken Saudi interests and authority, but it remains unclear whether this week’s events will stimulate an exit strategy from the protracted conflict. While Saleh’s declaration was initially considered a big win for Saudi objectives, it lasted a mere 48 hours. Instead, Saleh’s death has been a significant boost for Houthi morale and Iranian interests. By removing Saleh from the equation, the Houthis have sent a very clear message to Riyadh: negotiations are not an option.

Remy Tanner is the International Security Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

The 19th Congress of the Chinese Communist Party (‘CCP’) was held in late October of this year, marking five years of Xi Jinping’s leadership, as well an outline for China’s sustainable economic growth into the next five years of Xi’s presidency. Not only was Xi’s leadership consolidated at the 19th Congress of the CCP, the pursuit of Xi’s project on shared economic growth, the Belt and Road Initiative (‘BRI’), was also formally added to China’s constitution. With Xi remaining at the helm, and with a constitutional map guiding the way towards further international trade and investment, China has continued to sail unchallenged towards the leadership of the free trade world.

Just over two weeks after the 19th Party Congress, Xi Jinping went on to deliver his keynote speech to the APEC CEO Summit, where he emphasised his support for multilateralism and for interconnected economic development. Notably, Xi’s position, which has been made clear in the past through China’s leadership in initiatives such as the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership, stood in stark contrast to US President Donald Trump’s continued push for bilateral trade arrangements and protectionist policies. Indeed, with Trump having successfully left the Trans-Pacific Partnership dead in the water and continuing upon his warpath against NAFTA, Xi’s vocal support for multilateral cooperation has positioned China in the unlikely situation of being a defender of free trade and investment against an inward-facing US.

At a time when the UK’s Theresa May is beleaguered by Brexit, and Germany’s Angela Merkel has been confronted by a coalition conundrum, the more traditional champion nations of trade and investment have more pressing domestic issues to deal with. Yet for Xi, there is no more pressing domestic issue than China’s continued economic growth.

Although China generates an enviable amount of internal activity, its future growth will undoubtedly be linked to external trade and investment. Indeed, Xi’s stance on openness and multilateralism may very well be driven by the ultimately selfish need to counter China’s ballooning debt with more sustainable forms of growth. Regardless of his motives, Xi is poised, both in a global and regional sense, to fill a conspicuously empty leading role in the future development of free trade.

Although Xi has been proactive in the pursuit of increasing China’s trade opportunities, China’s actions in other areas have created several speed bumps on the (belt and) road to free trade leadership. As noted by Australia’s recently published Foreign Policy White Paper, China’s history of following a rules-based international order has arguably left some room for improvement, particularly in dealing with issues such as the disputed South China Seas.

Beyond international security concerns, foreign investors are also never far from losing confidence in the Chinese government. With China’s attempts to further control the stability of the yuan and to curb transfers to offshore accounts, investor confidence has been undermined again and again. Between having wary neighbours and skittish foreign investors, Xi has a lot of work to do before China’s soft power can catch up to its ability to lead through raw economic might.

With investors crying out for a free trade hero in this increasingly protectionist world, Xi has heard the call and is doing his best to respond. Burdened as he is with the weighty ball and chain of China’s own investment controls and activities that undermine the international rules-based order, however, Xi may find it difficult to respond to this cry for help in good time. Fortunately for Xi, it looks like he has at least five more years to save the free trade world from the threat of protectionism. In this day and age of superhero movies, Xi will need to hope that the next five years don’t turn out to be a DC production.

Dylan Hubbard is the International Trade and Economy Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

As diplomats and foreign ministers met in Myanmar’s capital Naypyitaw on 20 November for the Asia-Europe Meeting (ASEM), it was China that took the reins in proposing a solution to the Rohingya humanitarian and refugee crisis. Having just come from meeting Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina in Dhaka, China’s Foreign Minister Wang Yi put forward a three phase plan.

‘The first phase is to effect a ceasefire on the ground, to return to stability and order, so the people can enjoy peace and no longer be forced to flee,’ Wang affirmed. Once a ceasefire is seen to be in place, Wang said Myanmar and Bangladesh should work to find a viable, mutually acceptable solution for the return of the refugees. Whilst Wang declared the solution should be bilateral, he statedChina was ‘willing to keep playing a constructive role for the appropriate handling of the Rakhine State issue’. The third phase of the plan is working toward a long-term solution for poverty alleviation, as Wang pinpointed poverty as the root cause of the conflict.

Although China claims both states endorse the proposaland that a ceasefire is underway, there has been no proper evaluation of whether a safe return is advisable or even possible for the thousands of mainly women and children who are still stranded, trying to flee the violence, oppression and hunger in Rakhine state. Human Rights Watch has dismissed the repatriation arrangements, stating ‘The idea that Myanmar will now welcome them back to their smouldering villages with open arms is laughable’.

The long standing crisis re-erupted in late August when Myanmar’s military launched a brutal counter-insurgency after militants attacked security bases in Rakhine state, leading to the mass exodus of over 600,000 Rohingya people. United Nations (UN) officials have condemned the situation as a ‘textbook example of ethnic cleansing’, but the Myanmar government and military continue to deny all allegations of persecution in Rakhine.

Given its burgeoning relations with Bangladesh and well established‘friendship’ with Myanmar, China has maintained support for both governments throughout the crisis. In late September, China and Russia supported Myanmar in the United Nations Security Council’s (UNSC) first meeting on the issue in eight years. China has consistently argued against condemnation or sanctions of Myanmar at the UN because of its important relationship with the state, and also its (arguably selective) commitment to non-interventionist foreign policy.

Guo Yezhou, Deputy Head of the CCP’s international department, stated China would not intervene in this crisis because, ‘Based on experience, you can see recently the consequences when one country interferes in another. We won’t do it’.

Now China is asking the international community and the UNSC to support both states ‘to create the necessary conditions and a good environment’for the plan to succeed. ‘Actions in the UNSC must help Bangladesh-Myanmar bilateral cooperation to resolve the problem peacefully’, Wang Yi asserted.

Significantly, on 28 September, China delivered 150 tons of aid, including 2,000 relief tents and 3,000 blankets, to Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh. In line with their support for the Myanmar government, however, the Chinese embassy in Bangladesh said the aid was for the ‘displaced people in the Myanmar-Bangladesh border area’, rather than referring to the ‘Rohingya’ directly—a term the Myanmar government refuses to recognise.

China has a vested interest in Myanmar’s stability and Beijing has repeatedly emphasised the need for peace. Long running civil wars in the border states of Shan and Kachin have periodically led to large influxes of refugees spilling into neighbouring Yunnan province. Further, China has extensive investments in Myanmar, with business interests in timber, gold, and jade as well as billions of dollars in infrastructure projects, such as major oil pipelines, dams and other energy resources. Stability would not only grant China more unfettered access to Myanmar’s markets, but more significantly, the most direct land route to India runs through Kachin State. Connecting the two economies by road has been flagged as a ‘Belt and Road Initiative’project. Steve Naw Aung, General Secretary for the Kachin Development Networking Group, has lamented ‘They just want peace so they can happily run their businesses’.

Further, as the United States under Trump pulls back from over six years of heavy engagement in Myanmar, China is able to play an even more dominant role. Aung San Suu Kyi is also increasingly relying on China rather than the US on the international stage, stating on a trip to China last year: ‘I do believe that as a good neighbour China will do everything possible to promote our peace process’.

China’s objectives as peacemaker in the Rohingya crisis are hardly humanitarian. Returning the refugees to Myanmar with no international oversight in the name of stability is dangerous, irresponsible and unrealistic. China’s interest in maintaining friendly relations with Bangladesh and Myanmar will inevitably see China continue to play a non-interventionist role, positioning itself as chief mediator between the two states.

Clare O’Meara is the China Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

7 November 2017 marked the centenary anniversary of the 1917 Russian Revolution. The Revolution of 7 November 1917 changed the world for decades to follow. To just name one example, the Revolution was a major contributing factor to the spread of communism to countries such as China, North Korea and Cuba.

Although some Russians and non-Russians alike (mainly communist supporters and left-wing activists) commemorated the centenary of the Revolution, the Russian government stayed almost silent on the matter. This may be perplexing to many outside Russia for whom the history of the Russian Revolution forms such an integral part of major changes in European and world politics in the second half of the century.

From the beginning of the 20th century, Russia was already a very unhappy place for many people, with a large peasant population and growing industrial working class that struggled to get by from day-to-day. The first stage of the Revolution occurred in February 1917, which lead to the establishment of the Provisional Government, aimed at weakening the power of the Tsar.

A period of great unrest followed the February Revolution, and the First World War did nothing to improve the climate with Russia miserably losing on all fronts. Meanwhile, The Bolsheviks (the socialist party led by Vladimir Lenin) had been fighting for more control in the Government. They took advantage of the public’s disdain of the Provisional Government’s continued engagement in the war, and very quickly gained massive support at home.

On 7 November 1917, the Bolsheviks successfully (albeit violently) overthrew the Provisional Government and gained control of the country. A bloody civil war followed, which eventually ended in Bolshevik victory and marked the birth of communist Russia.

For many Russians, this was the Revolution they had been waiting for. It was out with the old, and in with the new. However, what many failed to foresee was that Lenin would mimic many of the autocratic and cruel methods of ruling used by his emperor predecessors, and which would later be adopted by his successor Joseph Stalin.

It’s at this point in the aftermath of the 1917 Revolution that world politics would change forever. The life changing events that followed the Revolution span 74 years, beginning with the creation of the Soviet Union, the Second World War, the Cold War and taking us all the way through to fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and eventually the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. These events illustrate just how powerful the Revolution was in altering the balance of power in the 20th century and its impact on individuals’ lives across the globe.

Surprisingly for those removed from Russia, major news outlets gave little, if any, attention to the centenary. This is a greater reflection of the indifference to the Revolution in Russia, rather than of a lack of interest abroad. Unlike the French and American Revolutions that continue to influence modern day France and America, the worldwide elation that came with the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 symbolically erased the 1917 Revolution from Russian history, making the memories from the events of that year largely irrelevant to the modern Russian psyche. This may be one explanation for the apparent disinterest towards the Revolution amongst Russians, particularly by its government.

Moreover, Putin would be well aware of the large number of critics of his regime, both domestic and abroad, and celebrating the Revolution risks being interpreted as condoning violent overthrows of the state. Of course, France and America celebrate their respective revolutions, with no such connotations attached to the festivities. Such thinking highlights Putin’s own insecurities about the legitimacy of his governance and the nature of his regime.

It’s understandable that many Russians would feel uncomfortable about “celebrating” the 1917 Revolution. The reasons are not dissimilar to the German memory of Nazi Germany. As the Germans have demonstrated, however, there is a significant difference between “celebrating” and “commemorating”. Putin’s disinterest in nationally acknowledging the Revolution speaks to the weaknesses in his control and governance, rather than to the event’s significance in shaping Russia’s modern history.

Elena Christaki-Hedrick is the Europe and Eurasia Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Earlier this month, Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull announcedAustralia would fund and deliver an undersea high-speed telecommunications cable to Papua New Guinea (PNG). This was welcome news for the impoverished nation that is plagued by unreliable, slow and expensive Internet access, and where many telecommunication providers still rely on satellite. Turnbull also indicated that the government was in ‘close discussions’ with the Solomon Islands to provide a similar cable.

The pressing need for such infrastructure in an under-resourced Pacific region cannot be underestimated. In a globally connected world, widespread ICT access is a fundamental requirement for the Pacific Islands to achieve their development goals. Reliable and affordable Internet would allow Pacific Islanders to overcome issues of remoteness and spur inclusive economic development.

Turnbull’s office released a statement claiming that Australia’s ‘support for this project is a reflection of our strong relationship with Papua New Guinea and our desire to build an even closer economic partnership into the 21st century’.

However, it’s estimated that the cable between PNG and Australia will cost about AUD$131 million, which will be be provided in addition to the current aid budget to the country of AUD$547.1 million.

Given the significant sum involved in delivering the undersea cable, Australian motives must be questioned.

To find answers, one should look no further than Canberra’s reaction to the announcement in July this year that Huawei would be building a cable for the Solomon Islands. With a loan from the Asian Development Bank, a preferred contractor in a British-American company and approval for the cable to be landed in Sydney, the government of the Solomon Islands unexpectedly announced that Huawei would deliver the project. Immediately following the deal with the Chinese company, Australia vetoed the possibility of Huawei connecting to its telecommunications infrastructure.

Cybersecurity concerns raised by ASIO had already led the Australian government to ban Huawei from tendering for contracts related to the National Broadband Network in 2012. Having a Chinese company connected to critical Australian infrastructure has long been unacceptable for the government, and fear that Beijing is attempting to infiltrate Australian infrastructure has only grown in the intervening years.

But perhaps more concerning for Canberra are China’s increasing efforts to court influence in the Pacific, thereby threatening to undermine Australia’s long-held powerful position.

Already, expensive infrastructure projects in PNG including the Edevu Hydro Project and redevelopment of Lae’s port have commenced courtesy of Chinese investment. Beijing has lent PNG millions to develop a national broadband network, create a governmental information-sharing system and build roads in Port Moresby. The cost of repaying PNG’s debt to China is now over AUD$26 million annually. Similar heavy investment is occurring in the Solomon Islands.

Turnbull’s announcement was therefore provoked by fear. In order to counter China’s growing influence in the Pacific, including the risk that Pacific nations will be unable to repay their debts to China, Australia offered to pay to complete the telecommunications cable in PNG. Turnbull’s recent suggestion that a similar arrangement with the Solomon Islands is impending also casts doubt on the opaque deal with Huawei and flags the possibility of an Australian contractor taking over.

The delivery of the undersea cables will be mutually beneficial. PNG and the Solomon Islands will receive crucial infrastructure for development. Australia will maintain its presence in the Pacific Islands while keeping an increasingly brazen China from destroying the economic and diplomatic influence carefully curated by Canberra over many years.

However, it would be remiss for the Australian government to think that this agreement would put an end to China’s growing presence in this region. While Australia should approach this with a healthy dose of scepticism and concern, the government must ensure it does not make reactionary foreign policy decisions driven by fear. Responding in this way and allowing it to cloud Australia’s engagement agenda with China prevents closer ties that will benefit Australians economically and politically.

Although taking responsibility for the delivery of undersea cables is a measured attempt to curb Chinese influence in and protect the national security of the Pacific, Australia must make efforts to rebuff Cold War-era thinking and continue to build a reciprocal, trust-based relationship with China. Only by acknowledging difference while working side-by-side will Australia have any hope of encouraging China to commit to transparency and the rules-based global order.

Emma Squires is the Australian Foreign Policy Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

2017 has been a year of milestones for Timor-Leste. At home, the young and hopeful nation successfully held both its presidential and parliamentary elections—lauded as being remarkably peaceful and democratic. On the world stage, the nation’s cult-hero and political figurehead, Xanana Gusmao, was celebrated as leading the disproportionately oil dependent nation (some 89% of GDP) to what seems to be a successful resolution of the Timor Sea dispute with Australia.

The resolution of the Timor Sea dispute and the demarcation of a permanent maritime boundary has arguably been one of the key facets of Timor-Leste’s foreign policy objectives. But now with clear progress being made at the Hague, how is Timor-Leste’s other key foreign policy objective—its accession into the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN)—fairing?

Accession into ASEAN has been one of Timor-Leste’s key foreign policy objectives since achieving independence in 2002.The nation’s hopes were formalised in 2011 after submitting an application to ASEAN whilst it was under the chairmanship of Indonesia—a long-time supporter of Dili’s admission. In order to demonstrate its readiness, Timor-Leste has taken a number of key steps including joining the ASEAN Regional Forum in 2005; acceding to the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation in 2007 (however, the fact that Timor-Leste acceded to this treaty as a state ‘outside of South-East Asia’ raises questions about the nation’s own geographic ambiguity in the eyes of ASEAN); establishing embassies in all ASEAN member states; and opening its doors to three ASEAN and Dili-ledfeasibility studies. In 2016, Timor-Leste even hosted the ASEAN People’s Forum in which it holds an observer status.

Timor-Leste’s hopes have also been cemented on the domestic front; with the nation’s cornerstone 2011-2030 Strategic Development Plan envisaging the nation achieving full membership by2015. Furthermore, Timor-Leste has established a dedicated government portfolio to ASEAN membership as well as an ASEAN secretariat in Dili.

So where does their membership stand? Six years into its application for ASEAN accession, Timor-Leste maintains observer status despite their best efforts. With the Philippines—being a strong supporter of Timor-Leste’s admission—chairing ASEAN this year, Timor Leste’s delegation came in with high hopes.

July’s successful parliamentary elections could arguably be hailed as a beacon of democracy amongst ASEAN’s diverse regime types. Timor-Leste’s ranking as the most democratic nation in Southeast Asia (and 43rd in the world) in2016 only serves to reinforce this. Ironically however, it may in fact be the results of Timor-Leste’s praiseworthy elections that will be its undoing as ASEAN’s Coordinating Council Working Group (ACCWG) continues to contemplate Dili’s membership.

Timor-Leste’s domestic politics have been stuck in limbo since July’s parliamentary elections. Despite claiming a narrow victory over its nearest rival, Gusmao’s National Congress for Timorese Reconstruction (CNRT), Prime Minister Mari Alkatiri’s FRETILIN party has been forced to form a constitutionally questionableminority government.

To add insult to injury, Gusmao has since led the formation of the Opposition Alliance with a Parliamentary Majority (AOMP) together with a number of minority parties in opposition. The AOMP has already used its majority in Parliament to block the FRETILIN-led government’s program once, increasing the likelihood of parliament being dissolved and fresh elections being called.

The obvious concern here, at least in the eyes of the ASEAN community, is that Timor-Leste’s admission into ASEAN in the midst of a political crisis at home would set a burdensome tone for the young nation’s entrance into ASEAN. Timor-Leste’s proven history of political violence, most notably in 2006, certainly doesn’t inspire confidence among member states which have already questioned Timor-Leste’s suitability (most notably Singapore). This is compounded by Timor-Leste’s oil-driven economy, which could possibly present a significant financial and political burden should the nation again succumb to political instability—detracting from broader regional security issues that the organisation is already well invested in.

Although ASEAN diplomatic sourceshave supposedly confirmed the delay of Timor-Leste’s admission into ASEAN for this year, the ACCWG is expected to meet next month in Bali to further discuss Dili’s case. Nothing can be ruled out just yet, but if Timor-Leste’s domestic political fiasco is anything to go by, then no clear breakthrough is on the horizon.

Dili’s case for accession is wavering at best. The sustainability of Alkatiri’s minority government is being questioned and the possibility of fresh elections is growing. Although the people of Timor-Leste deserve what they’ve strived to achieve over the past six years, their door into the ASEAN community has all but closed—for this year at least.

Patrick Dupont is the Indo-Pacific Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

One of the few sources of comfort for the British as many drag their reluctant feet towards Brexit D-Day is the assurance of a warm welcome from their old colonial subjects, the nations of the Commonwealth. However, far from bringing about ‘Empire 2.0’, the recent developments suggest that Brexit could actually catalyse the disunion of the Commonwealth – starting with a long-anticipated ‘Ausexit’.

After it became clear that Brexit would be going ahead regardless of public protests, there was a marked pivot in the focus of British foreign policy from the European Union and towards the Commonwealth.

In her landmark Brexit speech at Lancaster House in January, Prime Minister Theresa May stated, “Many in Britain have always felt that the United Kingdom’s place in the European Union came at the expense of our global ties, and of a bolder embrace of free trade with the wider world.” She emphasised that Brexit was an opportunity to build “a truly Global Britain” – “[a] country that reaches out to old friends and new allies.”

In the same month, two Tory lawmakers in the Free Enterprise Group published a report laying out an ambitious five-phased plan “to rewire and reenergise [UK’s] commitment to the modern Commonwealth network through trade and prosperity”. In February forty-five conservative MPs joined the caucus, urging the British government to “extend the hand of friendship to our Commonwealth partners” in an open letter to the Home Secretary Amber Rudd.

“The Commonwealth includes five G20 countries, has a combined GDP of $10.4 trillion with annual GDP growth in excess of 4% and offers a ready-made, English language trading network for Britain,” said the letter.

With the spotlight firmly on the Commonwealth as the carrier of Britain’s post-Brexit economic hopes, it is interesting to wonder what would happen when the “ready-made, English language-trading network” begins to unravel.

In July, Australian Labor Party leader Bill Shorten promised a referendum during the first term of a Labor Government to decide whether Australia should remain in the British monarchy. This comes in the wake of a significant upshot in membership of the Australian Republic Movement (ARM) following the Brexit referendum. The chair of ARM, Peter FitzSimons, claims the impact of Brexit on the movement has been “enormous”.

“And about 10 times what I had anticipated. Our membership is suddenly surging once more, and did so from the very moment the vote came in. Social media is crackling with calls for Australia to get on with it,” he wrote in an opinion piece in the Sydney Morning Herald.

Although Australia has a rather dismal record with referendums – a referendum for a republic failing in 1999 – ARM claims that for the first time, numbers are on their side. Some figures suggest that the majority of Parliamentarians – up to 81 MPs and 40 Senators – support the republican movement. This echoes public opinion polls in recent years, which have indicated majority support for a republic. As recently as January 2017, a report showed 44% support for a republic from the public, with 30% against.

If the federal election is called in second half of 2018, as seems likely, it means that the republic referendum could be held in late 2019, or early 2020 – contingent on a Labor victory, of course – just in time to gear up for post-Brexit negotiations projected to happen around 2022.

What does this mean for Australia’s relationship with a post-Brexit UK? For everyday Australians, any changes will be gradual, thoroughly debated and scrutinised. Most Australian’s wouldn’t notice any dramatic changes to their lives.

On an international scale, it would be a different story. The symbolic impact of a republican Australia alone would be enormous. Gaining full and complete control of our own affairs will put Australia on equal footing with other sovereign states in a way we have never been before. It would signify the coming-of-age of a nation and the marking of a new milestone in Australia’s young history.

There is no doubt Australia will remain motivated for a mutually profitable trade agreement with the UK. However, when Australia sits down at the negotiating table, it will be as a fully sovereign international partner, unencumbered by imperial sentiment. If Brexit has freed the UK to reach beyond Europe in search of more global ties, ‘Ausexit’ can similarly propel Australia to cross the lines drawn by out-dated loyalty to a foreign power and forge its own path in the new global order.

Se Eun Lee is a penultimate year student of International Relations and Law at the University of New South Wales.

North Korea’s nuclear weapons program was high on the agenda when US President Donald Trump met leaders in Japan, South Korea, and China last week. Two months on from the UN Security Council’s latest round of sanctions against North Korea, Trump is seeking to ratchet up the pressure. In Beijing, Trump asked President Xi Jinping to halt oil exports to North Korea. In Seoul, he announced that weight limits on South Korean ballistic missile warheads would be removed. For the first time in a decade, naval drills held near Japan featured three US aircraft carriers, a show of strength explicitly targeted at North Korea.

And yet Trump left the region with greater confusion about his strategy for dealing with North Korea than it had before he arrived. Last month, Trump tweetedthat US Secretary of State Rex Tillerson was ‘wasting his time trying to negotiate with Little Rocket Man’, as he calls Kim Jong Un. But speaking in Seoul last Tuesday, Trump invited Pyongyang‘to come to the table and to make a deal’.

Does Trump now see negotiation with North Korea as the way out of the current impasse?

North Korea hasn’t conducted any nuclear or missile tests since it fired an intermediate-range ballistic missile on 15 September. Pyongyang’s threats to fire a missile near Guam or to conduct an atmospheric nuclear test in the Pacific Ocean now look like only that (touch wood). It’s too soon to say whether this is a signal from Pyongyang that it wants to start talks. Nonproliferation expert Jeffrey Lewis points out that the lull in activity is consistent with previous seasonal patterns reflecting both poor weather and focus on the harvest.

Nonetheless, the absence of tests has provided some breathing room. Joseph Yun, the US special representative for North Korea policy, said last month that a period of at least 60 days without nuclear and missile testing would be required before Washington would resume talks with Pyongyang. However, Secretary of State Rex Tillerson has not confirmed that the 60-day threshold is White House policy, and other sources say the clock can only start when North Korea tells the United States it is freezing testing.

On the North Korean side, there are some signs of willingness to enter dialogue with the United States. With the successful test of an intercontinental ballistic missile this year, North Koreans feel they are close to achieving a reliable deterrent against the United States, and will soon—perhaps sometime in 2018—turn toward emphasising economic growth, according to people participating in track two diplomacy with North Korea. North Korean officials have also hinted they would accept denuclearisation as a long-term objective of diplomacy—though not as an immediate goal of negotiations.

It seems less likely that the US administration is serious about engaging Pyongyang. Trump is yet to nominate an assistant secretary of state for East Asian and Pacific affairs or an ambassador to South Korea. And Tillerson’s attention is focused on slashing the number of US diplomats rather than advancing US interests abroad. Ralph Cossa, President of the Pacific Forum CSIS, which is involved in track two dialogue with North Korea, warns that Trump’s inconsistent messages and the State Department’s troubles are making it more difficult to communicate clearlywith Pyongyang.

Moreover, the White House hasn’t demonstrated any intention to compromise on its demand for the complete, verifiable and irreversible denuclearisation of North Korea. Trump’s National Security Adviser H.R. McMaster said in September that there were no preconditions for talks, but that a mere freeze in North Korea’s nuclear program would be unacceptable. More recently, Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis said, ‘I cannot imagine a condition under which the United States would accept North Korea as a nuclear power’. There is no chance that North Korea will agree to denuclearisation, so this rigidity renders negotiations a non-starter.

Concerningly, the White House is still entertaining the notion of a military solution to the North Korean crisis. As recently as 28 October, Mattis repeated his claim that the US has military options against North Korea that would avoid heavy casualties in South Korea. This is dangerous nonsense. This month, the Pentagon informed Congress that confidently destroying all of North Korea’s nuclear weapons program would require a ground invasion, and a North Korean defector has said that any attack, no matter how limited, would trigger a massive response. South Korea is moreover absolutely opposed to preventive military action against the North, so a US attack on the North would risk wrecking the alliance.

Hopefully this is all bluster designed to coerce North Korea. Most likely, the US will fall by default into a rebadged version of the ‘strategic patience’ exercised by President Obama, applying sanctions pressure to North Korea while its nuclear program continues. Without a willingness to compromise, negotiations will never come to fruition. If Trump could refrain from calling Kim Jong Un‘short and fat’ in the meantime, that’d be great.

Cameron Steer is the United States Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Jacinda Ardern, New Zealand’s new Prime Minister,announced a planto ban foreign purchases of existing homes in late October to ‘make housing and home ownership more accessible for New Zealanders’. Ardern plans to introduce an amendment to New Zealand’s Overseas Investment Act to classify residential housing as ‘sensitive’, thereby restricting non-citizens and non-residents from purchasing existing residential dwellings.

However, as much as the word ‘ban’ has been making international headlines as of late, this proposed method of tackling New Zealand’s rapid increase in housing prices since 2012 is very far from being an outright ban. Foreign investors will still be capable of purchasing new and off-the-plan dwellings, and the restriction on non-citizens/residents purchasing existing dwellings will not apply to Australian purchasers. Really, when one stops to consider that Australia has extended the same courtesy to New Zealand investors, it does seem quite fair that New Zealand should return the favour to Australian investors as it cherry picks residential purchasing restrictions from Australia’s Foreign Investment Framework.

Although Ardern’s announcement might be a fresh and novel proposal for New Zealand, the measure is nothing new to Australia, which already restricts non-resident foreign purchases of established dwellings. Through Australia’s Foreign Investment Review Board and the Foreign Investment Division of the Treasury, foreign persons generally need to apply for approval before purchasing residential real estate in Australia. An example of this that New Zealand is seeking to replicateincludes temporary Australian residents being required to apply for, and receive, approval before purchasing an established dwelling, which they then must sell once the dwelling ceases to be their principal place of residence.

Restrictions such as this have effectively established a very surmountable bureaucratic hurdle to foreign investors looking to purchase residential real estate in Australia. However, given the continued surge in housing prices in Sydney and Melbourne, following Australia’s lead is far from a guaranteed method of cooling down New Zealand’s housing market.

With Sydney and Melbourne being the 2nd and 6th least affordable housing markets in the world respectively, Australia’s restrictions on foreign purchases of residential real estate have proved to be no barrier to rapid price growth. To further complicate matters regarding the impact of permissible foreign investment into Australia, an Australian Parliamentary Inquiry concluded that ‘no-one really knows how much foreign investment there is in residential real estate’. With Australia’s high housing prices and with little data to link foreign investment to these prices, Ardern’s proposed partial mimicry of Australia’s Foreign Investment Framework stands on shaky ground if it truly aims to make housing more accessible to New Zealanders.

This provides food for thought that this proposal may be more political tactic than a measure truly looking to address housing affordability, particularly given New Zealand Labour’s history of making a political point out of this area. Ardern’s party previously released figures claiming that 40% of houses sold in Auckland between February and April 2015 went to people with Chinese-identified surnames, a measured labelled as ‘half-baked’ by one of the kinder critics at the time. Regardless of the intent, if New Zealand is looking to combat housing prices, it could choose a much more effective role model than Australia.

As the Ardern government embarks upon its first year in power, its ability to prevent rising house prices and make housing more affordable for New Zealanders will be the subject of close scrutiny. It’s worth noting that although Auckland—ranked the 4th least affordable housing market in the world—has recently experienced its first drop in housing prices in six years, it would be a mistake to pin this drop on a ban that won’t be put to the New Zealand parliament for another few weeks. Instead, this drop in pricing has primarily been a result of New Zealand’s Reserve Bank introducing a requirement for property investors to have a 40% deposit before being able to borrow from a bank. This has led to fewer housing loans being taken out, a slowdown in the number of housing purchases being made, and a stress relief for New Zealand’s limited housing supply.

Measures such as this are much more likely to address New Zealand’s housing issues than Ardern’s planned ‘ban’, but there are thus far no signs if further measures of this nature are likely to see the light of day anytime soon. It’s likely that New Zealanders will have to wait to see whether following in Australia’s footsteps will lead them to a different housing destination.

Dylan Hubbard is the International Trade and Economy Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Growing up Australian, one may feel a strange disconnect between our patriotism and the wartime stories from which it has originated. When we say the words ’Lest we forget’ in this country, I fear that something indeed has been forgotten, as if our history textbooks have been misrepresented with crucial pages left blank. This past weekend, as we have paused to remember 11 November, the 99th Anniversary of World War I, we should also be acknowledging the Indigenous Australians who stood by our side protecting this country.

How history is remembered

Australia’s national narrative is one of strength and resilience. It is a narrative of the survival of the oldest continuous Indigenous cultures on earth, one of enduring hardship in the creation of a federated state and one of building a modern multicultural society. Indigenous Australians have been at the very heart of this story, long before us. Yet, we as a nation have been slow to acknowledge, reconciliate and remember. For instance, rarely do Indigenous people receive much more than a symbolic ‘Welcome to Country’ before the commencement of an event.

New Zealand, on the other hand, has evolved very differently to Australia. The values and significance of the Indigenous Maori people have been embedded into New Zealand’s national institutions and culture. The 1840 Treaty of Waitangiis frequently cited as a model for native title recognition, from which Australia can learn and emulate. Kirsty Gover from the University of Melbourne has argued that this treaty acts as a ‘powerful (legislative) expression of the Crown’s moral obligations to act honourably in its dealings with Maori (people)’. Court rulings that deal with Indigenous people’s interests are therefore able to be implemented in good faith.

Wartime experience

World War I was a milestone in shaping global geopolitics. Millions of lives were lost, livelihoods destroyed and economies were left in disarray. On the 11th hour, on the 11th day, of the 11th month of 1918, an armistice was signed to end the first global war. Every year, Australia pauses to solemnly remember this day, marking the end of the fallen diggers’ pain and suffering. Amongst those soldiers were brave Indigenous Australians. According to the Australian War Memorial, there were an estimated 1,000 Indigenous soldiers who fought in World War I. While it has been said that the real number could be much higher, unfortunately it cannot be verified.

Paying respect to our diggers

Indigenous Australians have played a major role on the frontlines, including Frederick Amos Lovett who fought in Australia’s victorious Battle of Beersheba. While all Australians stood united on the battlefield, Indigenous Australians were not afforded the same reward and recognition upon returning home. They were also exempt from receiving entitlements such as the 'Soldier Settlement Scheme', which honoured diggers with provisional land rights.

Understanding the motive for Indigenous Australians joining such a war can be hard to fathom, especially given the intensity of discriminatory practices against them at the time. This courage and fortitude could be attributed to Indigenous Australians’ abiding loyalty and commitment towards protecting their native homeland.

Rewriting our story

Australia is indebted to Indigenous Australians for their contributions to the nation in wartime. According to the Department of Veterans’ Affairs, they have served in virtually every Australian conflict and peace keeping mission. Though little is publicly known of their presence, they have indeed served since the start of the Commonwealth era in 1901.

As we mark the 99th Anniversary of World War I, having re-examined our history, I think you too can agree that the first chapter should begin with Our First Peoples. Lest we forget…

Faseeha Hashmi holds a Master of International Relations from the University of Melbourne, and has an interest in politics and human rights.

Several recent international studies have concluded with near certainty that the People’s Republic of China (PRC) will be water deficient by 2030. Water security has been atop the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) agenda for several decades. But as rapid economic development, climate change and urbanisation intensify water shortages and deterioration, the regime faces an uphill battle in securing China’s water future. The CCP’s ability to meet the competing and growing water needs—from the agriculture, energy and industry sectors, as well as in cities—will be a defining challenge for decades to come.

The PRC hosts 20% of the world’s population but only 7% of its fresh water. To compound this, China’s population is growing and is expected to peak in 2030 at 1.5 billion. CCP policies prioritising urbanisation aim to have 60% of the total population living in major cities by 2020. The Asian Development Bank recently released a reportasserting ‘a rise in the urban population would have a larger impact on water demand compared to an increase in the overall population’. In reality, the country’s current water resources cannot meet the projected demand arising from rapid urbanisation. Social stability will therefore depend on the CCP’s ability to quench the growing urban middle class’ thirst and their increasingly water-demanding lifestyles.

The water resources that China does have are unevenly distributed, geographically and temporally, and water distribution is inconsistent with local socio-economic needs. Urban growth will mainly be in water scarce areas. Further, two-thirds of China’s agriculture is in Northern China, but it holds just one-fifth of its water resources. Again, social cohesion in rural areas will depend on half a billion Chinese farmers’ ability to access clean irrigation water and fertile, unpolluted soil. With a growing population demanding more food, the flow on implications resulting from food and industry insecurity in China certainly have the potential to reverberate far beyond Beijing.

Indeed, the domestic, regional and global implications of any water related trigger from China could be crushing. In particular, the threat caused by rising food prices is well known. Ben Abbs of Global Risk Insights observes that when the 2011 droughts in Eastern China necessitated the CCP to buy huge volumes of wheat from international markets, global wheat prices doubled, which in turn helped spark the Arab Spring.

China’s water shortages are exacerbated by the increase in polluted water and degraded ecosystems. According to China’s water authority, 40% of the country’s rivers are severely polluted and 20% of river water is too toxic for human contact. Over a quarter of the water from China’s seven major river systems is now considered too polluted even for agriculture or industry.

Climate change will increase water temperature, change water distribution geographically and seasonally, and cause sea level rise. The glaciers in the Qinghai-Tibetan region hold the world’s third largest store of fresh water and is the source of 10 of Asia’s major rivers, which support around 1.4 billion lives downstream. But Asia’s Water Tower, as it is known, is now suffering from desertification and has shrunk by 15% over the past three decades. Another devastating and tangible impact was the floods in 2010 and 2012, which pushed the Three Gorges Dam to its limits. These killed hundreds of people and also came at great economic cost.

To date, the PRC has primarily relied on building dams and reservoirs, long-distance water transfer systems and, to a lesser extent, desalination, reclaimed wastewater and rainwater harvesting. The 13th Five-Year Plan period will test the CCP’s ability to narrow the supply-demand gap, and uphold the commitment to cap national water consumption at 670 billion cubic metres by 2020. The goal laid out in the last Five-Year Plan to hold water consumption to 600 billion cubic metres by the end of 2015 was not met, with 618 billion cubic metres consumed.

Satisfying competing demands for clean water in a socially equitable, environmentally just, and economically and technically viable manner is one of the top challenges the CCP faces in the coming decades.

Clare O’Meara is the China Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

On 3 October, a platoon of Nigerien soldiers accompanied by twelve US Special Forces set out northwards from Niger’s capital, Niamey. This was a routine patrol to a remote town near the Malian border called Tongo Tongo, where they met with tribal elders. Upon leaving, the platoon came under attack by an estimated 50 militants, subsequently identified as belonging to Islamic State in the Greater Sahara (ISGS). Thirty minutes later, French Mirage jets from an airbase in Chad were circling overhead and casualties were being evacuatedby a private contractor, Berry Aviation. Five Nigerien and four US servicemen died.

The absorption of these events in US media took on a very strange rhythm. The White House offered no statement until 16 October, when President Trump was prompted to comment by a question during a press briefing. He proceeded to make things unnecessarily personal, and the precipitating circumstances of the ambush itself were obscured behind salvos of ferocious mud-slinging regarding what the President did or did not say during a condolence call made to the widow of one of the departed servicemen.

Moreover, against this inauspicious backdrop, the Tongo Tongo incident revealed an acute lack of general understanding regarding the Pentagon’s activities in West Africa. Senator John McCain was demanding answers, conspiracy-mongering was afoot, and the coverage defaulted to an all too familiar trope of US hubristic incompetence operating in exotic and dangerous places, reminiscent of costly blunders past in Somalia, Rwanda, Sudan and Libya. Indeed, Congresswoman Frederica Wilson was quick to declare Tongo Tongo 'Trump’s Benghazi'.

However, the Pentagon’s major commitments in Africa are not a secret. President Bush announced the establishment of the United States Africa Command (AFRICOM) in 2007, headquartered at Camp Lemonnier in Djibouti. In East Africa, its major effort has been an ongoing and extensively scrutinised drone war against al Shabaab in Somalia. Shifting west, in 2013 President Obama announced the initial deploymentof 100 personnel to Niger, and a comparable deployment to nearby Cameroon two years later. The Trump administration even confirmed the presence of 645 and 300 troops in each nation respectively in a letterto Congress issued as recently as June.

Moreover, figures as diverse asJames Carafano, Andrew Bacevich and Nick Turse have been commenting on this ongoing 'pivot to Africa' for years. Over the past decade, AFRICOM has developed an expansive network of small bases and outposts stretching from the Seychelles to Dakar—without compromising its mandate for a ‘light footprint’. Stephen Biddle of George Washington University has suggested that the general public has simply exhibited a ‘massive attention gap’ with regards US foreign policy in the better part of an entire continent.

To discern the signal from the noise, there are three salient points of context relevant to understanding the significance of the Tongo Tongo ambush.

First, AFRICOM and its activities are not shrouded in somespecial category of mystery. The public record of its activities includes: fronting the multilateral intervention in the Libyan Civil war; the capture of abu Anas al-Libi—perpetrator of Al Qaeda’s 1998 East African embassy bombings; coordinating Uganda’s hunt for Joseph Kony; a humanitarian response to the 2014 Ebola crisis; various supporting roles in the fight against Boko Haram; evacuating US citizens from South Sudan as it descended into civil war; and evacuating the Peace Corps from Burkina Faso in response to amounting terror threat. Additionally, AFRICOM coordinates the biannual Flintlockcounter-terrorism training exercises, which began in 2002. Twenty-four local and Western nations have participated—including Australia. AFRICOM keeps busy.

Second, Niger is in the eye of the storm, occupying strategic geography of tremendous significance to regional stability. In Mali, to the immediate west, lies Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM)—an umbrella organisation composed of various Al Qaeda affiliated jihadist groups, including al-Murabitoun, Ansar Dine and Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb; and ISGS is a splinter faction that swore allegiance to Abu Bakr al Baghdadi last year. To the northeast lies Libya, where ISIS is seeking fresh pasturesas its foothold in Mesopotamia collapses. To the immediate south-east lies Boko Haram, which was, until 2015, the most dangerous militant organisation on the planet.

Hence, Niger is critical for containing and disaggregating the salafi-jihadist militant network that has spread across half the continent. To that end, the Pentagon is currently constructing a substantial drone facilityon the southern edge of the Sahara, adjacent the World Heritage-listed oasis city of Agadez. Not only is Agadez ideally located for monitoring neighbouring conflict zones, it is also one of Africa’s largest human trafficking hubs, at the southern end of the supply chain producing the European refugee crisis; a bold staging post for quietly facilitating a more resilient, state-based order in one of the most challenging corners of the planet. Niger matters.

Third, and despite everything already said, the Pentagon is not the chief playmaker in West Africa. That title belongs to France. The French military has been variously deployed in sub-Saharan Africa since 1962, and continuously deployed in Chad since it was invaded by Colonel Gaddafi in 1986. In 2012, a full two years before the US-led Operation Inherent Resolve kicked off in Iraq and Syria, the French spearheaded Operation Serval, a United Nations Security Council (UNSC) sanctioned multilateral intervention to expel the aforementioned salafi-jihadist confederation from Azawad province in northern Mali. This rolled over into Operation Barkhane, a permanent deployment of 4,000 troops across the Sahel, headquartered at N’Djamena, Chad. This includes Mirage and Rafale fighter aircraft, representing considerably greater force projection capabilities than anything in AFRICOM’s current arsenal.

All things considered, how then are we to interpret the events at Tongo Tongo? First, it’s indicative that African security is a global responsibility. Service personnel from three nations—not one—fought this engagement. Second, while questions are always rightly asked of military conduct, death is an occupational hazard of the profession of arms, and the US is very much at war in Africa. The Tongo Tongo ambush should not have come as any great surprise to anyone. Finally, as comparable and more widespread efforts in both Afghanistan and Iraq have demonstrated, training foreign militaries is difficult. Niger is no exception, and the US will likely be there for quite some time. Tongo Tongo was not, and will not be, an isolated incident.

John Goldie is the Middle East and North Africa Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

When one thinks of nations that epitomise progressive and sustainable climate policies, China, the world’s largest greenhouse gas emitter, is not typically front of mind. China is seen by the West as having a mediocre reputation on environmental issues and was perceived to be uncooperative at the 2009 Copenhagen climate talks.

In recent years, however, China has accelerated its commitments and recently launched several policies to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, including the introduction of its national carbon market. As pollution, energy security and international reputation become more important to the CCP, change is accelerating. Regardless of China’s motivations, China’s climate leadership is now on display for the world to see, and the West would be wise to observe and take note.

At the recent 19th national congress of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), Chinese President Xi Jinping reaffirmed his commitment to green development, which was first mentioned in the CCP’s constitution at the 18th congress in 2012.

Since then, significant changes have been made to the country’s energy mix, with hydro, wind, solar and nuclear energy now accounting for 20% of the country’s total energy consumption, up from 14.5% in 2012. China has developed a renewable energy industry that was virtually non-existent a decade ago. In 2016 alone, 35 GW of new solar generation was added, which is almost equivalent to Germany’s entire solar capacity.

The consequences of China’s clean energy build-up are already clear. More affluent nations that once used China as a defence for their own inaction are now watching it climb to become an emerging global climate leader.

While President Trump pledges to put US coal miners back to work, China is progressing in the reverse direction. According to the Chinese National Energy Administration, China intends to invest 2.5 trillion yuan (US$366 billion) in renewable energy technologies by 2020. However, it’s not all rosy. Notwithstanding promises to reduce domestic coal use, Chinese state-owned enterprises (SOEs) are looking to build coal projects abroad, such as in BRI countries.

The CCP appears to be driven by a range of considerations, including a desire to reduce pollution, economic concerns and energy security. The public uproar in the last decade against air pollution has given necessity to the need for a cleaner growth path. Furthermore, the overriding priority for the government continues to be economic growth as a source of legitimacy for the administration and an opportunity to raise standards of living. While environmental policies can clash with economic development, it has become increasingly evident that China’s leadership wants to move away from an economy driven by investment and focused on manufacturing, towards one focused on domestic consumption. This lends itself to high-tech industries and renewables development, and indicates that China’s green growth trajectory is unlikely to slow anytime soon.

Regardless of this important progress, China’s carbon dioxide emissions still overshadow the contributions of all other nations, with approximately a quarter of the world’s total. Therefore, for foreign governments and international organisations like the UN, assisting and supporting China on its green growth trajectory is paramount. While the central government remains influential, China has a series of actors, such as SOE and sector exports, which influence climate change decision-makers and the National Development and Reform Commission (the primary government institution responsible for climate change governance).

Although it appeared an unlikely reality at the 2009 climate talks, China is indeed on track to transform itself from the world’s climate change villain to an emerging green superpower. Climate change is an opportunity for China to step-up to the world and it has grasped the opportunity with open hands. China has become a green energy colossus.

Tom Perfrement is the Climate Change and Energy Security Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Addressing climate change is an urgent international concern that demands an inclusive approach to ensure diverse voices are heard. As COP23 convenes this week in Bonn, we are reminded how the international community must unite and foster solidarity for strong climate action.

Yet women’s voices often go unheard in climate change discussions. Women are simultaneously sidelined in political debates, and affected disproportionately by climate change.

Women and children are 14 times more likely to die in ecological disasters than men due to intersecting structural barriers that undermine women’s economic security, education and mobility. As UN Women highlights in a 2016 report, women’s dependence on, and unequal access to, land, water and other productive assets amplifies their vulnerability to climate change.

However, women’s vulnerability is not innate, but is socially constructed through narratives about climate change that‘have been largely the domain of white men’.

The latest data from the United Nations (UN) shows that women represented just 36% of the delegates to the 19th session of the Conference of the Parties to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change in 2013.

Women’s marginalisation is mirrored in the media. An empirical analysis of the media coverage during COP15 in Copenhagen shows female voices represented just 12% of those quoted.

Climate change documentaries are another strong example, with many venerating male political leaders, scientists and actors as climate change’s heroes.

Audiences gaze attentively at Al Gore in An Inconvenient Truth, with the documentary mimicking a science lesson and its prescribed relationship between an authoritative male teacher and his dutiful students. Leonardo DiCaprio’s Before the Flood—which garnered over60 million views—tries desperately to establish DiCaprio’s authority by depicting him addressing attentive audiences, jet-setting across the world and by emphasising his close relationships with other powerful men, such as Barack Obama and Al Gore.

In contrast, women are routinely denied the status of “speaking subjects” in such films. Before the Flood fails to show women speaking in the documentary’s first third. Dedicated almost exclusively to male scientists and politicians, women appear only 34 minutes into the film. Excluding shots of the environment, where DiCaprio narrates, women appear as speaking subjects for just 12% of the screen time.

But why should we care about women’s representation in documentaries and the media?

Principally because narratives about climate change influence our response.

Representing women as silent victims underestimates their expertise and strength as advocates, diminishing the chance for equitable climate change policies.

As UN Women Deputy Executive Director Yannick Glemarec asserts, we need to ‘change the rhetoric of viewing women as vulnerable. We must see women for who they are—core community members, strong leaders, advocates and agents of change who must have a place at the table’.

Food and water security in sub-Saharan Africa provides a paradigmatic example demonstrating why the media and policy makers must recognise climate change’s gendered dimensions.

In sub-Saharan Africa, 59% of employed women are engaged in precarious, informal agricultural employment. They are also responsible for fetching over 70% of household water. This imposes a disproportionate burden to provide water and food, and renders women more dependent on natural resources to subsist economically. However, it simultaneously empowers women as agents for change, giving them expertise about local water supplies and agricultural practices that should be recognised by policy makers.

Representatives at COP23 should consider climate change’s gendered dimensions, ‘not because gender oppression is more important than…other[s]’, but because focusing on women ‘reveals important features of interconnected systems of human domination’. The structures subordinating women, the environment, the financially vulnerable and racialised "others" are mutually reinforcing. A gendered perspective can help reveal these intersecting systems and their relationship to climate change.

If policy makers recognise women’s experiences and expertise, they can devise more equitable policies that tackle climate change and gender equality simultaneously.

Caitlin Clifford is a Masters student studying International Public Management at Sciences Po, Paris.

The views expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views of the United Nations or any of its affiliated organisations.

Although it looks increasingly likely that Myanmar’s treatment of Rohingya Muslims amounts to crimes against humanity, Australia’s response to these hostilities, which threaten to destabilise the delicate geopolitical balance in the Indo-Pacific region, have continued to be inconsistent.

The situation has continued to deteriorate as the Myanmar security forces’ (the Tatmadaw) systematic, scorched earth campaign aims to drive the 1.1 million Rohingya Muslims of Rakhine state from Myanmar. In just two months, more than 600,000 Rohingya Muslims have fled to Bangladesh. The Buddhist-majority Tatmadaw alleges it is undertaking anti-terror clearance operations in response to the 25 August attacks on police posts by the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army.

Yet accounts of massacres, rapes, torching of villages, forced relocation and laying of landmines along the path of those fleeing belie this. Evidence suggests that the situation is, as described by a senior UN official, a ‘textbook example of ethnic cleansing’.

For decades, Rohingya Muslims have been denied rights to citizenship and freedom of movement. As such, they have been rendered stateless by a government that considers them illegal Bangladeshi immigrants, despite evidence that they have resided in Myanmar for centuries. The latest persecution, although unprecedented, is preceded by years of human rights abuses.

Recognising the conflict as a flashpoint, Australia has already committed more than $70 million in aid this year to promote stability in Myanmar. It has further pledged $30 million to those affected by the crisis and sent relief experts to refugee camps in Bangladesh. The Australian government has spoken out against the violence. However, Foreign Minister Julie Bishop has warned Myanmar authorities to exercise ‘restraint’ and respect human rights—a disingenuous statement that assumes a non-existent power balance between Myanmar authorities and the Rohingya Muslim population.

Worryingly, the Australian government has been accused of ‘whitewashing’a UN Human Rights Council Resolutionpassed on 29 September this year concerning the Myanmar government’s refusal of entry to UN investigators. Australia insisted that the words ‘such violations and abuses’ be replaced with the less inculpatory ‘violence’, despite mounting evidence of crimes against humanity. The Australian Defence Force also continues to train and support the Tatmadaw as part of its strategy to keep peace in the region.

But most concerning is the recent deal offered to Rohingya refugees in Australian offshore detention centres. Refugees were each offered $25,000 to return to Myanmar. Not only is this an appalling response to a humanitarian crisis, but it indicates something more sinister. Australia is demonstrating that it is deeply complicit in supporting a regime engaged in a campaign that amounts to crimes against humanity.

This is completely antithetical to the‘principled, pragmatic and consultative approach’ to human rights abuses that Australia promised upon its election to the UN Human Rights Council. Not only does failing to stand up against gross human rights violations reveal the lack of principle behind Australia’s foreign policy, Australia has also failed to recognise pragmatic reasons for doing so. If pragmatism in this context means placing raw political need above the pursuit of justice for those subject to human rights violations, as it has historically, there remain strong reasons to take action to ensure that the bloodshed does not further devolve. With ASEAN proving itself to be impotent and lacking in unanimity on the issue, the region is crying out for leadership that Australia can offer.

In another alarming blight on Australia’s human rights record, its treatment of asylum seekers coming by boat is marred by fear and distrust. The massive number of asylum seekers now languishing in under-resourced Bangladeshi refugee camps increases the risk that some will risk their lives to be smuggled to Australia, threatening the government’s strong, if immoral, stance against boat arrivals. Furthermore, the squalid conditions of the refugee camps risk festering extremism among a Rohingya Muslim population that is already disenfranchised. Australia has a vested interest in preventing these camps from becoming recruitment grounds for the region’s growing number of violent extremist groups.

Finally, given the Indo-Pacific is home to nations with large Muslim populations, such as Indonesia and Malaysia, ending the Rohingya crisis is also a matter of regional stability. Myanmar’s extreme persecution of Rohingya Muslims risks igniting tensions with these nations as they react to the targeted destruction of that population.

The persecution of the Rohingya bears striking similarities to the Bosnian and Rwandan genocides of the nineties. Following both of those, the international community was criticised for failing to act sooner to end the bloodshed. Australia’s continuing complicity in the ethnic cleansing of Myanmar’s Rohingya Muslims will likewise land it on the wrong side of history.

Australia would be wise to consider the Amnesty International's recommendations, which include suspending military cooperation with the Tatmadaw, and pressuring Myanmar’s authorities to give UN investigators and humanitarian agencies access to Rakhine State. That is if it wants to maintain regional peace and prove itself worthy of its place on the Human Rights Council.

Emma Squires is the Australian Foreign Policy Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Spain is currently in a deep political crisis. Since the 1 October independence referendum in Catalonia, tensions have reached breaking point. In summary, on 1 October, Catalonia held a referendum to break away from Spain and become an independent state. The Spanish national police intervened, destroying many voting stations and confiscating ballot papers. As a result, while the turnout was counted at only 43% of the population, 90% of the votes were in favour of independence. Since 1 October, Spanish Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy has called the actions of Catalonia’s government, led by Catalonian President Carles Puidgemont, illegal and the backlash from the Spanish government has caused daily protests and civil unrest in the region.

More than a week after the independence vote, Puidgemont declared that he was suspending the declaration of independence pending talks with Madrid, leaving many Catalonians confused about the status of their vote. Tensions reached breaking point on 19 October when Mariano Rajoy declared that he would be seeking the Senate’s approval to trigger Article 155 of the Spanish constitution. This would permit the central Spanish government to suspend some of Catalonia’s autonomy.

Triggering Article 155 gives the Spanish government the power to intervene in a region if its autonomous government ‘fails to fulfil the obligations imposed upon it by the Constitution or other laws, or acts in a way seriously prejudicing the general interests of Spain’. In reality, if Puidgement unilaterally declares independence and Article 155 is used, the Spanish government could dissolve the Catalonian parliament, call new elections and prosecute individuals involved in leading the referendum.

Apart from the political ramifications of triggering Article 155, what will suffer the most is Catalonians’, pro- and anti-independence alike, ability to continue to trust the central Spanish government, particularly given that many at this point would be feeling increasingly isolated, frustrated and victimised by their national leaders. We do not know what has gone on behind the scenes, but if dialogue had not been occurring before, it certainly will not occur now.

Emotions aside, the legal and constitutional argument put forward by Rajoy is reasonable and clear. Catalonia’s political leaders are technically breaking the law and acting contrary to constitutional law and judicial direction. At this point, however, the fact of the matter is that the way the Spanish government has handled the referendum has inflamed already sensitive emotions, potentially prompting many ‘No’ voters who have felt victimised by the Rajoy government to sympathise with the ‘Yes’ campaign.

There is no doubt that Carles Puidgement was and is serious in his bid for independence. In the lead up to 1 October, however, many observers would have seen the move as a last ditch effort at forcing the Spanish government to the table to commence talks about improving equality amongst the regions. Those who saw the referendum in this way would have assumed that in the face of a potential crisis, Rajoy would have (or should have) conceded to the need for negotiation, and offered to engage in serious dialogue on the condition that the referendum be suspended.

Unfortunately, Rajoy did not choose this course of action, and with both parties determined to take all steps necessary to secure their positions, Spain has found itself in an unstable and somewhat violent stalemate. The most significant, and frankly sad, consequence of this state of affairs is the inevitable loss of mutual trust and respect between the two sides. Although political institutions can be mended, the emotional pain from this crisis is likely to outlive both Rajoy and Puidgemont’s political careers.

Rajoy is not going to win this fight with threats and violence, especially now since so many in the region feel betrayed and victimised by their own country. The pro-independence Catalonians mean business, and considering that this is a recurring issue in Spanish history, Rajoy must understand that fighting fire with fire will only lead to further disaster. The only way forward is to open dialogue. Without that, Spain will be trapped in a perpetual internal war of money, identity and power.

Elena Christaki-Hedrick is the Europe and Eurasia Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

The world’s youngest nation is enduring a large-scale humanitarian crisis in which protracted civil conflict, disease, famine, drought, displacement and inflation are driving statewide insecurity. Following a decades-long civil war, South Sudan gained independence from Sudan in 2011 and experienced relative calm for the ensuing two years. However, political instability reinvigorated violence in 2013. The conflict worsened again in mid-2016 and has continued through to late 2017.

When violence broke out in 2013, President Kiir (an ethnic Dinka) accused then-Vice President Machar (an ethnic Nuer) of plotting a military coup. Machar denied the allegations but proceeded to mobilise a rebel force. Since then, clashes have largely stemmed from political divisions and ethnic allegiances, with both sides allegedly targeting civilians. Additional causes of tensions arelivestock raiding, as well as disputes over agricultural land, water and other resources.

Since independence, an estimated 50,000 people have been killed, while a further 4 million have been displaced. That’s almost one quarter of the total population. In March 2017, a UN reportsaid the situation was teetering on the edge of genocide. One month later, the United Kingdom classified the violence as ‘genocide committed along tribal lines’, referencing ongoing ethnic cleansing in Yei since mid-2016. Both parties have been accused of human rights abuses. The UN says government forcesare perpetrating the most atrocities.

Gang-based sexual assault, kidnapping, murder and destruction of property has led to mass displacement. As of September 2017, the UN Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS) said there were 1.87 million internally displaced people, 200,000 of whom were living within UN compounds. A further 2 million people have taken refuge in neighbouring Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda. The total lack of physical security and basic services has also enabled the rapid spread of disease, with cholera transmission present almost 30% of South Sudan’s counties.

At a local level, the conflict has shut down markets and prevented farmers from planting and harvesting. Subsequently, famine is already prevalent in many areas, with 1.7 million people needing immediate aid and a further 6 milliongoing hungry. Less volatile regions are also struggling to put food on the table due to widespread drought and poor yields since 2014. Mercy Corps says the current window between hunger and starvation in South Sudan is extremely narrow and therefore encourages immediate international action. However, attacks on aid convoys—such as the recent killing of an International Committee of the Red Cross employee—further complicate the distribution of emergency rations.

Food shortages have caused exponential inflation, with staple grains such as sorghum becoming inaccessible for many families. The conflict has also triggered fuel shortages, causing public transport costs to skyrocket. Subsequently, many people are forced to choose between absenteeism and spending almost their entire salary on transportation. South Sudan’s inflation rates continue to fluctuate but became the world’s highest in January 2017, peaking at 835%.

The situation is dire, but there’s hope for reconciliation. Reducing small arms proliferation and encouraging inclusive dialogue to determine the root causes of conflict will be key factors for developing a homegrown solution. Progress is underway in some communities, where peace committees have facilitated mediation to prevent further violence. With the right support and leadership, these committees could work at a local level to support a nationwide resolution.

Looking ahead, South Sudan’s 2015 Peace Agreement requires presidential elections to be held at least 60 days before the Transitionary Period concludes in February 2018. However, this would go against the UN’s adviceto postpone elections until after the security situation has stabilised. This advice has caused controversy amongst lawmakers who insist there’s no constitutional avenue for postponing elections. The Kiir Governmentmaintainsit will go to the polls within the agreed timeframe. Nevertheless, it remains to be seen whether this decision will provide political legitimacy or cause further societal deterioration.

Remy Tanner is the International Security Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

The Philippine government announced on Monday that the Marawi conflict has officially come to a close. For the last five months, all eyes have been on the painstaking clearance operations in Marawi, and things will almost certainly remain that way well into the post-clearance operations. This begs the question of how the Philippines’ other long-running insurgency has fared whilst out of the limelight.

From the smouldering ruins of Marawi to a palm oil farm some 190km east in Agusan del Sur. On 22 September, the same day the AFP retookthe last bridge that crosses the Agus River in Marawi, some 40 membersof the New People’s Army (NPA) conducted an assault on a palm oil farm, causing US$40,000 worth of damage. On the same day, 50km southeast of Marawi in Cotabato, AFP troops were involved in an engagement with at least 20 NPA militants. But the fighting isn’t just concentrated in the restive Mindanao region: on 20 Septemberin the rural Nueva Ecija province, 220km north of Manila, the AFP were reportedly engaged in one of the fiercest clashes with NPA militants this year.

So who are the NPA? Established in 1969 as the armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP), the NPA has waged a ‘protracted people’s war’ against the Philippine government for nearly five decades. The intensity of the NPA’s insurgency has fluctuated as a result of government policy, internal purges and its level of external support, peaking as an organisation in the 1980s.

The NPA today is still very much an active guerrilla force, with an estimated 3,800 members fighting from some 120 bases nationwide. Although the NPA no longer has the strength to commit battalion-sized formations in conventional attacks as it once did, it still largely follows a strategy of rural-based guerrilla warfare with the enforcement of a ‘revolutionary tax’ to fund its operations.

If we look back just over 12 months ago, it would appear that Duterte’s administration was making serious gains in establishing a pathway to peace with the NPA. In the lead up to the 2016 presidential elections, Duterte revealed his willingness to engage with the NPA and release political prisoners. In his first address to the nation, Duterte even declared a unilateral ceasefire. Whilst this was shortly revoked after the NPA failed to reciprocate the gesture, this would pave the way for peace talks in Norway in August. It was this first round of negotiations in Norway that would begin an indefinite, unilateral ceasefire from both sides.

By November, however, it was clear that Duterte’s patience was waning. Dutertepublicly declined the demanded release of 130 political prisoners unless the NPA agreed to sign a permanent bilateral ceasefire. With mounting ‘encounters’ between the NPA and government troops, the NPA withdrew its unilateral ceasefire in February 2017, with the Philippine government following suit days after.

But by April, the peace negotiations were back on track, only to be well and truly shut down in late May by the Duterte administration just as the Marawi conflict was in its infancy. It would seem that the NPA’s revolutionary call to arms in response to Duterte’s declaration of martial law in Mindanao was the final nail in the coffin.

The NPA—or at least those within it that truly believe in the doctrinal application of a protracted people’s war—would almost certainly still envisage themselves as still being in stage one, that being the strategic defence. Their numerical disadvantage means that the NPA are still very much reliant on exploiting the rural terrain in which they operate, enabling them both freedom of movement and the application of guerrilla tactics with little impunity.

As such, it’s clear that the NPA has everything to gain and Duterte everything to lose. The NPA embraces the idea of a protracted conflict in order to achieve its strategic goals. Duterte, on the other hand, is politically constrained by the limits of his six-year tenure. Duterte will certainly have a busy five years ahead if he wishes to make the end the Philippines’ Maoist insurgency a hallmark of his administration.

But with Duterte putting his efforts across three very separate fronts—the war on drugs, Islamist insurgents in Mindanao, and the NPA’s revolutionary war—the odds are very much against him. Would some form of permanent bilateral ceasefire have been met if the Marawi conflict hadn’t manifested itself? Perhaps. But as with any rural-based insurgency, particularly those spread nationwide across a multitude of fronts, tactical miscalculations by individual NPA commanders and government forces will probably continue to derail any hopes of peace in the Philippines in the near future.

Patrick Dupont is the Indo-Pacific Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

US President Donald Trump’s decision not to certify the nuclear agreement with Iran is a failure of leadership, born not of strategic judgement but Trump’s desire to rid himself of responsibility for an agreement whose chief deficiency is that it was negotiated by the Obama administration. Trump, who promised to scrap or renegotiate the Iran deal during the 2016 campaign, was infuriated by Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis and Secretary of State Rex Tillerson’s advice that the deal be kept intact. Having twice before conceded to his advisors on the matter, Trump decided he could no longer bear the embarrassment of certifying Iranian compliance, especially while his failure to follow through on other campaign promises, like replacing Obamacare, dog him.

There is no disagreement among the parties to the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) that Iran is compliant with the agreement’s restrictions. Indeed, Mattis affirmed Iran’s compliance at a congressional hearing earlier this month. However, the same legislation that requires the president to report on Iran’s compliance every 90 days permits decertification in the event the president no longer considers the agreement to be in the United States’ national security interest. Trump thus justified his decision on Friday by claiming that Iran is not ‘living up to the spirit of the deal’—whatever that means.

The internal compromise worked out by National Security Adviser H. R. McMaster appears to be that Trump will kick the ball to Congress, which now has 60 days to decide whether to restore nuclear sanctions on Iran. Rather than immediately reinstating sanctions, however, the White House has indicated it would like Congress to legislate automatic triggers for the return of sanctions, including Iran’s deployment of an ICBM, Iran’s refusal to negotiate an extension of the JCPOA, or evidence of Iran’s ability to manufacture a bomb in less than 12 months. Whether or not Congress passes such legislation, Trump can now distance himself from US policy toward Iran.

For supporters of the JCPOA, the good news is that Congress is unlikely to restore sanctions on Iran soon. Republicans would need 51 votes in the Senate, in which they have only 52 senators, and even strident Iran hawks, such as Republican Senator Tom Cotton, have indicated they will not seek to reimpose sanctions immediately. Amending legislation to include automatic triggers would require 60 senate votes and thus the support of some Democrats—a dubious proposition.

For friends of the United States, the bad news is that whether or not the US stays in the JCPOA, Trump’s decertification will damage US standing and interests around the world. The JCPOA has its flaws: restrictions on the number of centrifuges Iran may operate expire after 10 years; the cap on the level of uranium enrichment expire after 15. But there is no chance of negotiating a better deal, especially not one that encompasses Iran’s missile testing.

The JCPOA was the result of steady diplomacy and sanctions cooperation with Europe, China, Russia, and others, who were united in opposition to an Iranian nuclear weapons capability. Some of those, including France, are open to building on the JCPOA to address Iran’s other destabilising behaviour. But Macron told Trump on Friday that Europe would abide by the JCPOA even if the US withdrew. And it was not US sanctions, but those of Iran’s oil and gas customers in Europe and Asia, that were most important to obtaining concessions from Iran. Trump’s decertification will not achieve greater leverage over Iran, but it will fracture the transatlantic unity needed to confront Iran on other issues.

Iranian officials have been ambivalent over whether they will abide by the JCPOA if the US withdraws. The boost to Iran’s economy, though less than was hoped, has been significant. In July this year, Iran signed a US$5 billion agreement with French and Chinese companies to develop the South Pars natural gas field. If, however, Tehran decides their interests would be best served by accelerating their nuclear program, the international community’s will to restrain it will be far less than it was in 2015. Why cooperate with the US when they might tear up any agreement with an ounce of compromise?

In his announcement, Trump decried the JCPOA’s focus on Iran’s nuclear program to the exclusion of other areas of concern, including sponsorship of terrorism and support for the Syrian regime. Of course, one purpose of the JCPOAwas to enable the US to tackle Iran’s other behaviour without ‘simultaneously confronting a nuclear regime’. Trump’s own policy toward Iran demonstrates greater myopia. With Trump siding against US ally Qatar in its dispute with Saudi Arabia, Tehran has improved its diplomatic relations with Doha. And this week, the US has stood back as IRGC-backed Iraqi militia forces pushed Kurdish fighters—the most reliable US partners in the region—out of Kirkuk.

Trump has meanwhile made it more difficult to obtain cooperation from Iran in other areas. The domestic political standing of Iranian moderates advocating engagement with the US, such as President Rouhani, will be damaged. Trump’s decision to designate the entire Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) as a supporter of terrorism will not only have limited practical effect; it will force Rouhani to defend an organisation with millions of members and a prominent role in Iranian society.

Beyond the Middle East, Trump has also damaged any chance of obtaining an agreement with North Korea by demonstrating that the US will not abide by its own agreements and flirting with the language of regime change. Some dealmaker.

Cameron Steer is the United States Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

“Being nice to Rocket Man hasn't worked in 25 years, why would it work now? Clinton failed, Bush failed, and Obama failed. I won't fail.”

– @realDonaldTrump

Communication between foreign leaders and diplomats is facing a significant shift in the current political and technological environment. Traditional communication between diplomats takes both formal and informal means: official statements from heads of state, engaging in negotiations at summits, signalling through military action or economic sanctions. Recently, social media has emerged as a new form of political communication for leaders, which is producing mixed results.

One social media channel bringing possibilities for instant and direct communication of policies from leader to citizen is Twitter. But the early days of the Trump Administration illustrate the diplomatic challenges that may arise through its use.

A spat earlier in 2017 over a refugee resettlement deal between Australia and the US illustrates such pitfalls of digital diplomacy. After President Trump’s phone call with Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull, there was speculation over whether or not the deal - which would resettle 1,200 refugees from Australia to America - was discussed. US officials’ response was inconsistent, before the Washington Post published an articlerevealing that the deal was a topic of tension during the call.

Later than day, President Trump tweeted “Do you believe it? The Obama Administration agreed to take thousands of illegal immigrants from Australia. Why? I will study this dumb deal!”. Likely fearing disruption to US-Australian relations, Senator John McCain immediately came out in support of the alliance, revealing fractures within the US government between Trump’s tweets and establishment foreign policy positions. The impact of this on US-Australian relations was minor, however greater challenges such as the threat of nuclear war are also heightened due to the President’s foreign policy tweeting.

More recently, President Trump has displayed on Twitter a lack of coherent strategy towards mitigating the threat of North Korea and the role China plays in this security dilemma. The President has responded to recent nuclear escalation from North Korea by criticising China for their inaction, to excusing China and Chinese President Xi Jinping for their failed attempts at assisting with North Korea, to again expressing disappointment at China’s inability to prevent North Korea’s most recent nuclear test. This culminated in Trump undermining Secretary of State Rex Tillerson’s attempts at engaging in diplomatic talks with Kim Jong Un’s government on Twitter. Besides the potential for inconsistency being equated as incompetence, these tweets, which must be taken as official statements of the President, raise significant questions for the future of American foreign policy.

The potential divergence between the positions articulated on President Trump’s Twitter account and the positions adopted by the US government presents interesting questions. How can the two be structurally reconciled? And how should other countries deal with this? It is perhaps too early in this administration to tell how these questions will play out, but in these first 10 months, there are some indications of the trajectory of US foreign policy as influenced by the President’s Twitter account.

First, perceptions of America as a global power and a reliable ally are likely to be diminished. The appearance of inconsistency between the President’s opinion and his administration’s apparent policy will cause allies and enemies alike to question the coherence of US foreign policy. There is no simple solution to this dilemma; Congress cannot simply start executing the President’s foreign policy as communicated on Twitter in the same way as if it were developed through public diplomacy. To do so could result in implementation of policies that ignore the institutional knowledge of the foreign policy and security establishments, as well the full implications of such policies on domestic interests.

And yet, inaction on the part of Congress could prove to be just as detrimental. Traditionally hostile states like Russia and North Korea will view discrepancies between the President and his government as an opportunity to strengthen its own well-defined foreign policy interests, while partners will be uncertain of where they stand with the US. As allegations of President Trump and his associates’ ties with Russia continue develop, and as the Presidents’ tweets oscillate betweendenying Russia’s involvement in the 2016 election campaign toforeign policy achievements made in partnership with Putin, the disunity between the White House and Congress will continue to project weakness to foreign powers. Thus, America’s lack of credible commitment will undermine its ability to project power through signalling.

Second, and following from this, diplomats are likely to face increasing difficulties in their posts. The uncertainty as to what constitutes official state policy, and the sporadic nature of President Trump’s outbursts will mean maintaining inter-state relations and negotiations in line with US positions at an individual- and domestic-level will be restricted.

For allies who tie their policies to the US, it will be difficult in this new era to gauge US policy and therefore difficult to set their own policy. Australia’s China policy, which has remained largely non-committal, and fluctuates between attempts to foster economic growth and maintaining close relations with the United States, reflects the difficulties in coordinating with an ally who is uncoordinated.

There is something to be said for using Twitter to protect and further the national interests of states as a new communication form through which diplomacy and international relations may be conducted. The immediacy of the medium provides an opportunity for politicians to communicate complex subjects like foreign policy in an accessible way. If digital diplomacy is to follow the current trajectory, however, it is likely to create new challenges for public diplomacy.

Isabella Gorrez holds a Bachelor of International and Global Studies from the University of Sydney, and will be completing her honours thesis in 2017.

One might be forgiven for having missed it, but the Pope visited Australia in early September. He was here for ten days, from 30 August to 9 September, visiting adoring congregations in Sydney and Melbourne, enthused considerable Christian youth, and met with Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull. But this wasn’t the Bishop of Rome; it was Pope Tawadros II of Alexandria—the 118th Pope of the Coptic Orthodox Church of Egypt.

Coptic Christians began arriving in Australia during the early 1970s, following Egypt’s 1967 war with Israel. The first diocese was founded in Western Sydney in 1970, followed by a second in Melbourne in 1999. There are now some 70,000 Copts in NSW, and a further 30,000 in Melbourne, including a sitting member of federal parliament, Peter Khalil. Although their presence in Australia is obscured in the census by being listed as ‘Oriental Orthodox’ alongside Iraq’s Assyrians and Lebanon’s Maronites, the Copts are the largest Christian community still active in the Middle East.

Whereas the Vatican claims Episcopalian authority from the double apostolic succession of the disciples Peter and Paul, both martyred in Rome, the Copts claim authority from the lineage of the apostle Mark, whom they believe established a church in Alexandria, in 33 CE. Indeed, it was in Egypt that Christendom’s monastic orders first emerged, most famously at St Catherine’s monastery on Mt Sinai, and it was in Egypt that the Nag HammadiLibrary was discovered in 1945, which proved to be of comparable significance to early Christian history as the much better known Dead Sea Scrolls.

The Alexandrian Church split from the Rome at the Council of Chalcedon in 451 CE, in an inscrutably arcane dispute over the metaphysics of Christ. Two centuries later, the Arabs arrived with a new Abrahamic religion in tow, and Egypt steadily evolved into a multi-faith society. Muslims and Christians coexisted for centuries, and in 1919, Egypt’s nationalist Wafd Party protested British imperialism under a flag bearing a conjoined cross and crescent. Today, some 10% of Egypt’s 93 million inhabitants are Coptic.

However, burgeoning sectarianism has been steadily eroding confessional harmony since the 1970s, and has entered a higher tenor in recent years. A watershed moment occurred in the early hours of New Year’s Day 2011, when a bomb killed 21 Copts attending midnight mass at al-Qiddissin Church in Alexandria. This heralded the violence to come.

Three weeks later, the Arab Spring erupted in Tahrir Square, and President Mubarak was replaced by an interim military administration. Images of Christians and Muslims protesting together inspired great hope for Egypt’s future. But this quickly dissipated. In May, a number of churches were burned in the Cairo suburb of Imbaba, then in October, 24 Coptic protesters were killed by security forces in Maspero.

In June the following year, Mohammed Morsi was elected president, but the violence continued. In April 2013, clashes broke out on the doorstep of St. Mark’s Cathedral in Cairo, during a funeral service for the victims of prior attacks. Pope Tawadros publicly criticised Morsi for failing to contain the violence, and on 3 July, the latter was ousted by Abdel Fattah al-Sissi in a military coup. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the embattled Pope Tawadros endorsed al-Sissi.

However, the worst proved yet to come. In February 2015, ISIS militants operating from neighbouring Libya beheaded 21 Copts and declared war on Egypt’s apostate Christian community. Mokhtar Awad of George Washington University has suggested that ISIS may have been seeking to emulate Abu Zarqawi’s explicit efforts to foment a Sunni-Shia civil war in Iraq back in 2004.

Though falling well short of civil war, ISIS have indeed made distressingly good on their promise of violence. In December 2016, St. Mark’s Cathedral in Cairo suffered a suicide attack. In early 2017, several Copts were gunned down in el-Arish, a small city in the Sinai, prompting much of the region’s Coptic community to flee westwards across the Nile. On Palm Sunday in April of this year, ISIS conducted a coordinated attackon St George’s Cathedralin Tanta, and St. Mark’s Cathedral in Alexandria, and on 26 May gunmen summarily executed 28 pilgrims on a bus near the southern city of Minya.

The Egyptian government has responded in force. In 2015, President Assisi ordered airstrikes on ISIS training camps in Libya, and earlier this year announced a nationwide state of emergency in response to the Palm Sunday attacks. This was subsequently extended, and is due to expire in October. As a consequence, whilst Assisi’s administration has been roundly condemned for thebrutality with which it came to power in 2011, and the persistent ruthlessness of the Egyptian security apparatus, Pope Tawadros has hailed him as a saviour.

Understandably, the Copts have adopted a siege mentality, and many arefleeingEgypt for countries like Australia. During his tour here, Pope Tawadros was forthright: ‘We are now in war against this terrorism and this violence’. The future of Christendom in Egypt is not hopeful.

John Goldie is the Middle East and North Africa Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Iraqi President Haider al-Albadi declared the recent destruction of the Great Mosque of al-Nuri in Iraq as a sign of the imminent demise of the Islamic State (IS) group.

The Great Mosque was named after Nur al-Din Mahmoud Zangi, the Turkic ruler of Aleppo and Mosul who ordered its construction in 1172, and survived centuries of conflict and civil strife until IS demolished it with explosives – ironically the same mosque IS chose to declaretheir self-styled caliphate in 2014.

Symbolic as the end of a ruthless organisation, the loss of the Great Mosque of Al-Nuri is part of worrying trend – the destruction and looting of some of the oldest shrines, churches, mosques, statues and monuments in Syria and Iraq.

The architecture and artefacts date back millennia, before Islamic rule and the fascinating Mesopotamia period – described as the cradle of civilisation for, among other things, the beginnings of complex urban centres.

The rate of destruction of historical artefacts has increased in the 21st century; the cultural heritage of the region has been pillaged and destroyed by armed ideologically driven groups and black market opportunists, or suffered incidental damage from the ongoing civil war in Syria and the 2003 US-led invasion of Iraq.

These pieces attest to a period of polytheism and the birth of Islam, to a millennia-old melting pot of Babylonians, Assyrians, Hittites, the Greeks, the Sassanians, the Persians, the Romans and the Arabs.

The impact of European Crusaders in the region is memorialised in the spectacular medieval Krak des Chevaliers military fortress, and the Ottoman Empire also made its mark with its occupation and restoration of many of the region’s pieces. All these cultures co-existed and clashed in a historian’s paradise.

Preservation of these contributions to an ever-changing society serves to remind us of a time in Syria and Iraq where respect for different cultures or at least tolerance of cultural heritage was valued.

Extremist groups in Syria and Iraq have contributed to the mass destruction of cultural heritage for propaganda and ideological reasons. IS and other similar groups in Syria follow a Salafi Ideology that seeks to return Islam to a time similar to that in which the prophet Mohammad lived. The two fundamental beliefs driving this widespread desecration are belief in monotheism and in eradicating dedications to polytheism – after the prophet Mohammad who destroyed depictions of pagan deities in the Kaba following his conquest of Mecca.

This intolerance, this jihad, against other cultures’ and times’ religious artefacts has produced similar conflict-driven cultural heritage destruction in Yemen, Egypt and in Afghanistan the notable case of the destruction of the 53- and 35-metre-tall Buddhas of Bamiyanby the Taliban, labelling them false idols.

IS has made special efforts in targeting Shiite mosques and shrines (The IS predecessor Al Qaeda in Iraq was accused of destroying the al-Askari Mosque in Samarrain Iraq to provoke sectarian conflict) and Christian and Assyrian churches and monasteries in Iraq – a campaign of bulldozers and explosives has denied Iraqis much of the rich history that they rightly should take pride in.

In Syria, the city of Palmyra, the UNESCO world heritage site, was subject to destruction and pillaging after IS routed Syrian government forces and took control. IS destroyed the polytheistic Temple of Baalshamin and desecrated the Temple of Bel among others, and blew up parts of the 13th century Palmyra castle upon on their retreat from the city.

Palmyra, wider Syria and Iraq (post-US-led invasion) have all suffered from increased looting which is symptomatic of state-instability and the inevitable accompaniment to these formal acts of destruction. Described as the ‘Pompeii of the desert’, the ancient city of Dura-Europos in East Syria was ransacked with an estimated 70per cent of it destroyed by looters during the civil war.

Maintenance or restoration of historical sites and pieces is vital to rebuilding a post-civil-war Syria. Before the civil war, tourism to visit some of the oldest sites in the region accounted for 14% of the country’s GDP. Syria is home to six UNESCO world heritage sites and Iraq, four. Iraq’s GDP is less dependent on tourism but in a resource driven economy the preservation of cultural heritage plays an important role in broadening what is a resource-reliant economy.

Intolerance and conflict across the Middle East is destroying or damaging a rich regional history at a frightening rate, threatening to wipe out not just the precious things but a desperately needed economic asset, and threatening to deny future generations their rich heritage. Winston Churchill famously said that “history is written by the victors” but the continuing conflict in the Middle East demonstrates that history, sadly, is easily erased by bulldozers and explosives.

Mathew Wilson is an International Relations Master's student with a strong interest in national security, strategy and intelligence.

The hukou (户口) residency-permit system continues to shape the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) socio-economic class structure and has a particular impact on the lives of rural migrant workers ('nongmingong' 农民工). The system has effectively redefined urban-rural and state-society relations, and has received widespread criticism domestically and internationally, being denounced as one of the most strictly enforced ‘apartheid’ social and economic structures in the modern world.

Whilst initially implemented in the early Mao era, partly as an instrument of state control over rural-to-urban migration, the reform period of urbanisation and industrialisation prompted relaxed hukou controls that today have created an estimated population of approximately 277 million rural-to-urban migrant workers.

Between 1990-2012, the number rural migrant workers in China’s cities increased from 25 million to over 250 million, the largest ever human movement in recorded history within such a short period. Although approximately 54% of the population now live in cities, a figure which continues to rise, only 36% of the population hold an urban hukou.

Today, an ‘invisible wall’remains between non-local, agricultural hukou holders and local, urban hukou holders as they coexist in cities. The system has not only created a rural-urban divide, but also an intra-urban divide. Notwithstanding recent reforms, the economic, social and political discrimination faced by individuals with agricultural, non-local hukou status have ramifications for growing inequality and on the direction of the Chinese economy as a whole.

Rural workers living in cities constitute approximately36% of China’s total workforce. Despite the growing size of this demographic, one unwavering function of hukou status remains that only urban hukou holders are provided with the services to live permanently and adequately in cities. Artist and political activist Ai Weiwei laments that as a result, cities like Beijing have become ‘two cities, one is of power and of money… the other city is one of desperation’.

Migrant workers in China’s major urban centres continue to face daily prejudice from authorities and urban hukou status residents, and are being denied basic rights in their adopted homes. They are largely excluded from the social safety net and essential services granted to urban hukou citizens, such as health care, access to schools, welfare and more. Rural migrants are not legally considered to be urban workers and the majority are engaged in jobs at the lower end of the wage distribution, routinely exposing them to very exploitative work conditions. Growing dissatisfaction among migrant populations has the possibility to ignite serious social unrest, and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) remains vigilant in keeping an iron lid on any discontent.

As China’s economy transitions from export and manufacturing-driven growth to growth that’s led by domestic consumption, the CCP is recognising that maintaining hukou division is not conducive to building a prosperous and harmonious urban class. In the 13th five-year plan announced in 2015, China’s State Council pledged to gradually reform the hukou system, which The Diplomat’s John Marshall suggests is a tacit acknowledgment from the CCP that the system is now losing its useful purpose, and is counter-productive to socio-economic development.

The CCP has agreed to grant urban residence permits to 100 million permanent urban residents by 2020, which is still less than half of the nearly 274 million migrant workers China had by 2014. This stems from China’s urbanisation policy goal of having 60% of the population residing in cities by 2020, with 45% of the population on full urban hukou. While the reform aims to better integrate China’s migrant population in cities by removing the distinction between ‘agricultural’ and ‘non-agricultural’, the resident or place of origin hukou status will remain, rendering this group essentially bound to their ‘migrant’ status.

Further, these reforms are being focused on cities with less than five million people, with big cities to maintain tight controls, despite the fact that the majority of migrants are in bigger cities. What’s more, there’s significant resistance to reform. Although local governments are granted authority over implementing hukou reform, the World Bank notes they ‘are mostly unwilling to take on the additional public service burdens’. Simultaneously, those in the minority who already enjoy urban hukous are loath to share their privilege.

The creation of an urban migrant underclass and the resulting socio-economic structural imbalance is having immensely negative ramifications on the migrants themselves, the social fabric of China’s cities, and in turn, on the economy as a whole. Ultimately, the hukou system and the extent of its impact on migrant workers constitutes a complex barrier for China’s future economic and social development.

Clare O’Meara is the China Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

Negotiations for an EU-Australia free trade agreement are building momentum with the signing of the EU-Australia Framework Agreement in August. The long-time coming Agreement marks an important step in the bilateral relations. Is it the beginning of a new era of strategic cooperation between the EU and Australia?

The EU and Australia are committed to work together to tackle challenges in foreign and security policy, sustainable development, climate change, and economic and trade matters. The forthcoming agreement presents many prospects, a significant one being the enhancement of closer links between leaders across government, business and civil society.

Chair of the European Australian Business Council the Hon Nick Greiner AC saysthe agreement represents an evolution of the relationship. Developing our history of collaboration in research and innovation is one such area. According to the University of Queensland Chancellor and Former Secretary of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade Peter Varghese AO FAIIA, the agreement could improve research and industry collaborations and connections.

Moreover, President of the European Policy Centre Herman Van Rompuy advocatessecurity cooperationshared social challenges. In many areas including energy and climate change, manufacturing, defence and security, healthcare, transport, infrastructure, the digital economy and intellectual property, both parties have considerable strategic strengths, which together can contribute to regional and global prosperity.

The EU and Australia’s strong bilateral relationship is particularly favorable to continuing efforts to lead on global climate and disaster risk management policies. Speaking at the EU-Australia Leadership Forum in June, Australian Foreign Minister Julie Bishop said she sees a role for partnership between Australia and the EU in leading the way on the global treaty on climate change.

The publication on the EU Australia trade relationship, released by the Australian National University Press alongside the Australia and New Zealand School of Government, provides varied and deeply practical insights into this new phase of the bilateral relationship. As forthcoming policy debate on the EU-Australia FTA gains momentum, the publication contributes to highlighting probable points of difficulty and potential gains from the agreement.

Whilst the EU and Australia’s economies share similar elements such as high regulatory standards and comparable intent of qualifications and ways of working, there are also many obstacles, including traditional trade barriers and differences in norms, amongst others.

Making the EU-Australia cooperation truly cutting-edge has just begun.

Elisabeth Perrin is a Diplomacy and Trade postgraduate student at Monash University and Communications and Events Coordinator at Australian Catholic University.

Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, stunned the country last Thursday by dissolving the lower house of parliamentand setting a general election for 22 October. The decision comes amid higher approval ratings and is an apparent scheme to save Abe’s government which had been deteriorating in the preceding months.

Despite significant disillusionment with Abe, Japanese voters widely see no credible alternative. Unfortunately, this is no irregular blip in the system, but representative of a status quo that has maintained the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) in its position of power for approximately six decades with few interludes.

The LDP, founded through a merger of two conservative parties in 1955, has ruled Japan almost as unceasingly as the Communist Party has in China. The 1955 System which, embedded the LDP at Japan’s political apex, was drafted by Nobusuke Kishi, Abe’s maternal grandfather. Despite being imprisoned on war crimes charges, Kishi became prime minister in 1957. Kishi’s brother succeeded the position in the 1960s and 1970s. This multi-generational continuity is noted in Japanese politics, with Yukio Hatoyama, the grandson of LDP Prime Minister Ichiro Hatoyama, unseating the LDP as the head of the Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) in 2009.

In recent decades, almost every new political party has broken away from the LDP. Between familial ties and common beliefs, these have proven difficult to differentiate. Without defining policies citizens can rally behind, voters have opted to support the best organised and most established party—namely, the LDP.

During the Cold War period, as part of a major covert operation, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) also provided millions of dollars in support of the LDP. The money given to party members throughout the 1950s and 1960s was exchanged for information on Japan, making the country a bulwark against communism and undermining the left-wing. The LDP’s 38 years of one-party governance ended in 1993 following a series of corruption cases.

Professor Stephen Nagy of the Department of Politics and International Studies at the International Christian University in Tokyo asserts ‘the US put a lot of political capital into ensuring the LDP was the party in power. Everything else, including nationalism and war crimes, was put aside’. While long speculated by political critics, the LDP has resolutely denied any connection with the CIA. Despite the breadth and depth of US interference, the LDP has lost little credibility in light of these revelations.

In a landslide victory, Prime Minister Abe took office in late 2012 on a campaign platform of kick-starting Japan’s plateaued economy. His policy blitz known as Abenomics combined big government spending, ultra-loose monetary policy and structural reform. While this elevated the stock market and plumped corporate profits, it failed in its objective to overcome deflation—an issue that has plagued Japan for years and stunted economic growth.

Initially, Abe was considered‘a steady hand whose position appeared unassailable’. However, in July 2017, following several political scandals, there was significant speculation that he had lost his fight for the prime ministership when his government’s popularity dropped close to‘death zone’ levels.

Earlier this year, Abe was allegedly implicated in a cut-price land deal with Moritomo Gakuen, a nationalist school group. It was later speculated that he approved a new veterinary department for the Kake Gakuen Education Institution, which is directed by his personal friend, Kotaro Kake, despite a consensus that it was unnecessary. There has also been a suspected cover-up by Abe’s former protégé Defence Minister, Tomomi Inada, regarding the worsening security situation in a South Sudan peacekeeping mission involving Japanese soldiers.

There’s some suggestion that Abe faces an unexpected but formidable obstacle in the form of Tokyo’s Governor, Yuriko Koike. The newly-launched Party of Hope has arguably stolen Abe’s limelight, with Koike attracting an influx of lawmakers from various ideological backgrounds, and promising speedy and much-needed reforms.

However, Abe’s responses to North Korea’s provocative actions since July have won him temporary approval from voters. This has spurred widespread suspicion that the snap election decision is little more than an attempt at self-preservation.

Despite the Koike challenge, widespread dissatisfaction with Abenomics and the LDP’s wavering credibility, most believe Abe’s victory and another term for the LDP is all but assured. Kyodo News’ poll indicated support for the Japanese Communist Party at 3.5%, Komeito at 4.6%, Party of Hope at 6.2%, the now-defunct DPJ at 8% and the LDP at 27%. Despite some 42% undecided, the preliminary numbers foretell an Abe victory.

North Korea’s warmongering has shifted Japan’s focus to national security, which plays to Abe’s strengths. This nevertheless presents little hope of averting further economic decline. While many have been lulled into thinking Japan can live in its current political and economic climate, the systemic issues presented by a primary-party framework threaten Japan’s long-term prosperity. Considering Japan’s political history, unfortunately the opportunity to alter this is quickly slipping away.

Georgia Grice is the East Asia Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.

The current Rohingya exodus from Myanmar has drawn attention to the struggles of ethnic minorities and the international consequences that can arise from mass insecurity. The Rohingya people are one of the world’s largest stateless populations. Studies estimate the total population to be approximately 1.1 million, most of whom live in Rakhine State. Structural exclusion from mainstream society, ethnic tensions and physical violence have pushed almost half the Rohingya population into Bangladesh. During the first three weeks of September, an estimated 430,000 Rohingya fled Myanmar and are now living in squalid camps where they lack basic services and remain at severe risk of disease, violence and radicalisation.

Ethnic tensions have persisted in Rakhine for decades. Myanmar’s government asserts that Rakhine Buddhists are the true indigenous inhabitants of the region, and does not recognise Rohingya people as a national race, resulting in denial of citizenship (since 1982) and subsequent statelessness. Associated violence escalated significantly in late August following attacks on 30 police outposts. The Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) claimed responsibility for the attacks in retribution for government brutality against the Rohingya population.

ARSA is only thought to comprise of an estimated 150 foreign fighters and 500 villagers. Despite such small cadres, the ensuing ‘clearance operations’, allegedly targeting militants, have led to the destruction of 1000 villages and subsequent allegations of ethnic cleansing by UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres. UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Zeid Raas al-Hussein has also classified the treatment of Rohingyas as ethnic cleansing.

A UN fact-finding mission charged with investigating ‘very likely’crimes against humanity was denied entry to Rakhine while attempting to follow up on a report (from February 2017) which determined Myanmar’s security forces were pursuing ‘a calculated policy of terror’. Incidents detailed in the report included an eight-month-old baby having its throat slit while five soldiers assaulted his mother, and soldiers beating a woman in labour, then stomping on the newborn baby until it died. Despite this catastrophic humanitarian situation, the UN has limited capacity to intervene primarily due to China’s support for Myanmar’s campaign, which has prevented UN Security Council action.

In a speech addressing the situation, Myanmar’s de facto leader Aung San Suu Kyi stated there had been no armed clashes or clearance operations since 5 September, while Myanmar’s ambassador to the UN denied allegations of ethnic cleansingand insisted militants were their only targets. However, Amnesty International says a massive scorched earth campaign remains ongoing, with satellite imagery from 22 September showing fires still burning in Rohingya villages across Rakhine, while thousands of refugees continue to pour into Bangladesh.

Brutal and indiscriminate violence is undoubtedly counterproductive to resolution efforts. Furthermore, people are more vulnerable to radicalisation when confronted by persecution. As such, although the government may have smoked out militants, the mass destruction of property and violence against civilians is producing an even larger disenfranchised population and exploitable power vacuum.

The Advisory Commission on Rakhine State, chaired by Kofi Annan, published a report in August 2017 stating that ‘unless current challenges are addressed promptly, further radicalisation within both communities [Rohingya Muslim and Rakhine Buddhist] is a real risk’. The Commission also found that northern Rakhine is becoming a hub for narco-trafficking, which is both an indicator of and catalyst for insecurity. Furthermore, International Crisis Group expressed concern that Myanmar is becoming a hotbed for militancy, while Malaysia’s Defence Minister repeatedly warned Islamic State could capitalise on the current crisis by recruiting refugees and using the situation in propaganda materials.

Another concern is the potential for a devastating epidemic. The conditions in makeshift refugee camps are similar to those which accelerated the spread of cholera across Yemen—protracted violence, contaminated water, no toilets, a lack of shelter and limited medical services. Journalists have reported human faeces in the streams where people wash and cook, while statements from seasoned humanitarian workers indicate the situation is the worst they have experienced—even when compared to crises in Syria and Rwanda. Experts fear an outbreak of infectious disease, which they are attempting to mitigate through mass vaccination programs. However, unsanitary conditions combined with monsoonal weather and a constant flow of new arrivals remain significant risk factors.

The current Rohingya situation is fast becoming Asia’s most severe humanitarian crisis on record. Almost half a million people have been displaced in the process of targeting a handful of militants. To put numbers into perspective, the amount of refugees who have fled Myanmar since August 2017 is triple the number that crossed the Mediterranean Sea throughout all of 2016. The crisis is clearly a lethal threat to Rohingya civilians and a major challenge for governments attempting to accommodate the large numbers of refugees. In addition to these immediate concerns, longer-term implications can be projected by revisiting recent history where persecuted groups have become non-state actors capable of disrupting the status quo. As the situation continues to deteriorate, a viable roadmap to reconciliation appears increasingly unlikely.

Remy Tanner is the International Security Fellow at Young Australians in International Affairs.