AUKUS nuclear submarine decision a crucial step for self-reliance
Nuclear-armed or not, our new submarine fleet represents a step-change in Australia’s capability at a time when we need an independent deterrent more than ever. But will it come quick enough?
Acquiring nuclear-powered submarines and the engineering capability to support them might take Australia decades to achieve, but the only firm commitment from the three governments on Thursday was to consult over the next 18 months to “work to determine the best way forward”.
Other analysts — notably Denis Mole, writing for ASPI, and my UNSW Canberra colleagues James Goldrick and Clinton Fernandes — are better qualified than I am to discuss specific submarine capabilities. But a few general observations are in order.
AUKUS has been billed as locking Australia into a “forever partnership” that ties us to America for a generation, and as a “new military alliance to counter China”. Neither of these things is quite true. Australia is already in an enduring partnership with the US. No Australian strategist seriously questions the ANZUS alliance, which has been central to the defence policies of both Labor and the Coalition for decades.
Australia’s relationship with Britain is equally enduring, through the Five Eyes intelligence agreement, Australia’s partnership with NATO, and the Five Power Defence Arrangements. British forces regularly operate and exercise alongside the ADF, most recently on this year’s Exercise Talisman Sabre and in the evacuation of Kabul.
Likewise, Australia has long sought advanced capabilities from its allies, including, historically, nuclear technology. In the past, American policymakers consistently refused nuclear transfers; as recently as 2016, they were insisting that “nuclear naval technology would not be shared even with as close an ally as Australia”. In fact, the last country to receive a transfer of American nuclear technology was Britain, back in 1958, at a time when prominent Australian politicians – notably John Gorton, then minister for the navy – were actively pushing for Australian atomic weapons.
Still, the pact does reflect a significant shift in our strategic environment. Just two years ago, Scott Morrison called China our “comprehensive strategic partner” and argued that we did not have to choose between the US and China. Beijing’s fury over AUKUS seems genuine; an editorial in the state-controlled Global Times this week warned that “Australia has now turned itself into an adversary of China” and, however well-armed, “is still a running dog of the US”. The editorial threatened that if Australia provokes China, “China will certainly punish it with no mercy”. Again, though, after years of bullying by Beijing, none of this is really new.
Given multiple Chinese cyber-attacks, including on parliament in May 2019 and June 2020, ongoing economic coercion, interference in our politics, intimidation of our Pacific neighbours and “wolf warrior” rhetoric from Chinese diplomats, it should hardly surprise Beijing that Canberra now sees China’s aggression as the major threat to Australia’s security and to regional peace and stability. Last year’s Defence Strategic Update and National Cybersecurity Strategy were tactful on that point, and this week’s announcement also avoided mentioning China. But, taken together, they reflect a clear strategic assessment that battle lines have been drawn, and Australia’s place is with Britain and the US.
Arguably, and perhaps unintentionally, the really new factor that AUKUS reveals – for Australia and the UK – is a stark realisation of US weakness and decline.
When Donald Trump was president, British and Australian leaders often privately expressed concerns about American reliability. But the latest betrayal – the ridiculously incompetent, unilateral US withdrawal from Afghanistan – occurred, of course, under President Joe Biden. European leaders, belatedly discarding their delusional belief in Biden as a foreign-policy expert, have expressed something close to contempt for the US. Concerns about American reliability now therefore relate to broad issues of national cohesion and political will, more than the personality of any particular president. Humiliation in Afghanistan – and the shared defeat inflicted by Washington on its allies – also raises concerns about the efficacy of US deterrence, particularly against China.
Leaders in Beijing seem emboldened by the American defeat, mocking the US and moving to cement their dominant position in South and Central Asia. Given sharply escalating tensions with Taiwan, which announced major increases in defence spending this week and is acquiring missiles that can strike targets well inside the mainland, Chinese planners may see a window of opportunity to move on Taiwan before Taipei can improve its defensive position or the US can regain its confidence.
Such a move would almost certainly not involve an overt amphibious assault, but rather a creeping series of actions – for example, a blockade by fishing vessels around Kinmen County (a Taiwanese island a few kilometres from the mainland) supported by China’s powerful Coast Guard, backed up by the Chinese navy, and complemented with cyber, economic and political warfare. The goal would be to coerce Taiwan into concessions without ever offering a clear pretext for US retaliation. If a weakened Washington failed to respond, the result would be permanent erosion of US credibility across the region, leaving partners throughout the Asia-Pacific vulnerable to Chinese coercion.
This combination – an emboldened, aggressive China and a weakened, humiliated America – would leave Australia high and dry. Important middle powers like Britain and France, with significant Indo-Pacific interests, would be at risk in our region as well as in Europe. This is, perhaps, one reason why both the French and British navies have been increasingly active in the region in recent years.
The risk and uncertainty of such a situation has clearly been preying on the minds of leaders in London and Canberra. They seem to have extracted the technology transfer from Biden during the Caddis Bay G7 meeting in June, with Australia seeking a more robust strategic strike capability in return for renewed support for US efforts to balance China, and the UK supporting Australia. This is not the action of governments confident in enduring American engagement. It suggests that Australian decision-makers realise we are firmly in China’s sights, see the US as increasingly unreliable, and are therefore seeking independent deterrence.
In this context, it is worth noting that assurances that the new submarines will not be nuclear-armed mean little until we see specific designs. Nuclear-powered Australian submarines equipped with, say, non-nuclear land attack missiles (such as the Tomahawk cruise missile already planned for Australia’s Hobart-class destroyers) could sit undetected at sea for months, posing a serious deterrent against a Chinese navy known to be relatively weak in anti-submarine warfare. Virginia-class or Astute-class boats could be fitted for additional missiles and sensors – or these might be acquired later.
Nuclear-armed or not, the new submarine fleet thus represents a step-change in Australia’s capability at a time when it needs an independent deterrent more than ever.
Two factors call for caution, the first being timing. Several US analysts believe the peak risk of war between Taiwan and mainland China will occur between early 2022 and late 2025.
Australia’s new submarine fleet, though telegraphing a tougher stance toward China, will not be fully deployed until 2040. Thus, in stating our intent to acquire this new capability we run the risk of provoking Chinese coercion before having the actual deterrent on hand. This is not an insurmountable challenge, but it will require very active engagement in the region, as well as a focus on homeland defence and national resilience, to build other elements of deterrence while the new capabilities are developed.
The other issue is even more consequential: this decision has seriously infuriated the French. France is a major power with an independent nuclear capability, several possessions in the Indian and Pacific Ocean region, a very robust anti-terrorism capability, and sub-Antarctic islands likely to play a role in any emerging future competition for Antarctica. As a like-minded democracy, Australia has assiduously encouraged greater French engagement, and the purchase of French-designed conventional submarines was part of that effort. The deal was destroyed by the AUKUS decision, and we will need to lean in hard to restore the relationship and rebuild trust with an important player.
Japan and India – both Quad members who see China as a serious threat – are equally important. Leaders in India, in particular, were dismayed by Washington’s surrender to the Taliban, and it will be extremely important to reassure them and our other partners that this move is not about some cosy new Anglosphere club but rather about shared security interests.
I have argued for years that Australia needs to have a much more independent, robust, self-reliant and assertive defence and foreign policy – one where we think, act and are seen by friends and enemies alike as a capable player in our own right, not merely a minor member of a US-dominated group, taken for granted by Washington.
More capable submarines, and the broader AUKUS pact, could be a very good thing if they support a more independent deterrent posture. But the devil is in the details, and consultations over the next 18 months will be critical in shaping how those details turn out.
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This week’s AUKUS announcement prompted intense discussion about the transfer of British and American nuclear technology to Australia, potentially involving the purchase of an existing submarine design, such as the US Virginia-class or UK Astute-class, for construction in South Australia.