Australia

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

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

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

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

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

Australia's new India economic strategy shows how India's growing economic weight makes it an unavoidable economic partner, despite the challenges in navigating its market.

By James Curran In recent weeks, the Australian government has invested significant commemorative capital to mark the one hundredth anniversary of the Battle of Hamel on the Western Front in World War I in July 1918. This was the first time that Australian and U.S. troops had fought alongside each other—a practice subsequently seen in World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and more recently in Afghanistan and Iraq. Few, if any, close U.S. allies can boast that kind of record in fighting alongside U.S. troops repeatedly. Since the election of Donald Trump, the Australian government has expended a great deal of effort in crafting a new narrative for the Australia-U.S. alliance centred around this theme of “100 years of mateship.” The phrase fuses the history of Australian-U.S. relations in times of international conflict with Australia’s military tradition. At the instigation of the Australian government, a television documentary celebrating this history has been produced and is currently airing on Fox TV channels in both Australia and the United States. The Australian embassy in Washington also had a medallion struck for the occasion and a special beer, dubbed “mateship ale” and brewed in Texas, now features at selected embassy functions. This is however the diplomacy of gimmickry. It bears little relation to a rather more complex historical tale of Australia-U.S. relations over the last century, a history in which the two countries, for all their convergence on the battlefield, have also, like most alliances, experienced moments of great tension and indeed serious differences in the bilateral relationship. It is doubtful, too, that many Americans are aware of this record of sustained Australian loyalty to the United States during wartime. The Australian government appears determined to remind them and also to signal Canberra’s renewed commitment to the next one hundred years of the bilateral relationship. Canberra’s appeal to sentiment raises the intriguing question of how allies handle President Trump as his “America First” stance becomes more entrenched in U.S. foreign policy, as demonstrated at the recent G7 meeting in Quebec and in his launching of trade wars. Of course, there is every reason why the two countries should recall this history of shared sacrifice: that, after all, is what allies do. Another argument is that appealing to past military heroics is the best way to seize the attention of a U.S president who, although hardly given to extolling the benefits of alliances, has nevertheless surrounded himself with military top brass. Australia is not the only ally pulling on the emotional heartstrings in dealing with the Trump administration. Canada’s Justin Trudeau has also tried to remind the White House of his own country’s special historical links to the United States. The difference is that Trudeau also has followed that up with resolute statements about his preparedness to adopt a defiant stance toward the United States if necessary, protecting Canadian interests while also appealing to shared historical ties. Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull on the other hand has not highlighted his willingness to challenge U.S. foreign policy; he has backed the Trump administration at almost every turn. What then does Australia really gain from employing this campaign of appealing to the two states’ military history? Perhaps these attempts to remind Washington of Canberra’s role as a faithful ally explain Australia’s exemption from the Trump administration’s recent steel and aluminium tariffs. But whether these appeals would make a difference in the event of a more serious clash of interests between the United States and Australia, especially over issues in Asia, is another matter entirely. The history of U.S.-Australia relations, after all, does not provide much comfort for Australian policymakers. When conflicts between the two allies have arisen before, Washington quite properly prioritized its own interests over any idea of mateship. In arguments over Indonesia’s annexation of West New Guinea in the early 1960s, for example, or in the prosecution of the Vietnam War, Australia often found that pronouncements of loyalty to the alliance were unable to either shift U.S. policy or secure the level of consultation Australian policymakers felt they deserved. Indeed, Canberra is struggling to negotiate the two headwinds buffeting its foreign policy: the first being the ongoing anxiety about U.S. staying power in Asia, and the second being how to deal with the more muscular stance taken by China in its foreign policy. The problem is more acute, of course, because of Australia’s economic dependence on China. These two factors have combined to apply greater pressure to the delicate diplomacy that has characterized Australian diplomacy for the last twenty-five years, as China has become an economic and strategic power—the idea that Canberra could retain an ally in Washington without alienating its major economic partner in Beijing. This mantra had virtually become an article of faith amongst leaders, policymakers and commentators: Australia could ride two horses simultaneously. But over the last few years it has been getting much harder to maintain this difficult balance. So far, the Turnbull government is not faring well in dealing with this dilemma. In short, it is perhaps too optimistic about continuity in ties with the United States and too harsh in some of its language towards China. Last year the Australian foreign minister, for example, did what no other Australian leader has done since Canberra recognized Beijing in 1972: lectured China on their system of government. In its formal pronouncements, such as last December’s Foreign Policy White Paper, Canberra maintains that it wants to see U.S. leadership in Asia continue. It continues to plead for Washington to rediscover its exceptionalist impulse, its role as the “indispensable nation” in world affairs. Australia wants the United States, in many ways, which existed before the Trump administration, although previous U.S. administrations also frequently ignored Southeast Asia and the Pacific Rim. On China, Turnbull has attempted to take a tough rhetorical stance while simultaneously maintaining close economic ties. But late last year, in the process of introducing special legislation designed to protect Australian political institutions from interference by China and all other foreign actors, he appropriated the supposed words of Chairman Mao to state that Australia too, just like the Chinese communists in 1949, will now “stand up” to protect itself from foreign interference. It is unclear whether Mao actually said these words at that time, but the prime minister’s phrase was perceived in Beijing as a needless poke in the Chinese eye. Beijing has subsequently given Canberra a frosty diplomatic shoulder. China has not made a concerted effort to drive down the numbers of either Chinese students or tourists coming to Australia, industries worth $7.4 billion and $7.7 billion respectively to the Australian economy last year. But the potential is there for China to cause Australia significant economic pain, if Beijing so desired. It is not surprising then, that there is much talk in Canberra of the need for a “reset” of Australian China policy. In a recent speech Turnbull spoke of a “positive” and “optimistic” future for the Australia-China relationship. An alternative interpretation of Turnbull’s bullish line on China is that it is calculated to further toughen Trump’s own stance towards Beijing. That too is testament to the nervousness in Canberra that the unpredictable Trump, despite the launching of a trade war on China, could ultimately strike strategic and economic deals with Xi that might well leave Australia high and dry. Accordingly, it will take much more than appeals to shared history to solve Australia’s foreign policy challenges. James Curran is professor of history at Sydney University and a non-resident fellow at the Lowy Institute for International Policy.

This week: sanctions against Russia over malicious cyber activity, reversing the ZTE ban, and Huawei has some trouble down under. 

Welcome to “Women Around the World: This Week,” a series that highlights noteworthy news related to women and U.S. foreign policy. This week’s post, covering May 5 to May 11, was compiled with support from Amalia Trigo and Rebecca Turkington.

Part of a Series of China’s Growing Influence Within Democratic Societies In a relatively short period of time, international media attention—and attention by policymakers—has focused on Beijing’s growing efforts to wield influence within democracies’ political systems and societies. As I noted in an Expert Brief last week, this attention has been sparked by waves of revelations of Beijing’s attempts to wield influence in Australia and New Zealand, as well as growing concerns about similar efforts in Germany, the United States, Canada, and many other developed democracies. This week, the Economist even dedicated its cover story to the issue of China’s growing influence strategy, referencing an excellent report by the National Endowment for Democracy on China’s “sharp power” strategies in open societies. In part because Australia was one of the first countries to recognize the challenge of China’s expanding global influence campaign inside democracies—a recognition due in part to solid reporting by Australian media outlets—Canberra also is offering a template for addressing Beijing’s influence campaign. For one, Canberra moved relatively quickly to ban foreign donations to political parties and activist groups. Some, but not all, developed nations already have such bans in place; they would be wise to follow Canberra’s example and put such policies in place. Second, Australia has been and is strengthening its process for scrutinizing foreign investments in sectors that could have national security implications. This is a model that other states could study. The United States, too, is moving toward strengthening its Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States (CFIUS) process, as is Europe. But some other developed economies, such as Canada, appear to be moving in the other direction and applying less scrutiny to foreign investment, even when those investments could affect national security. Third, Australia’s politicians and university leaders appear increasingly aware of the challenge posed by growing funds from Beijing for cultural and educational programming at Australian universities, think tanks, and other institutions. Politicians and universities are engaging in a high degree of scrutiny, now, of China’s influence on campuses. In the United States, although the National Association of Scholars has urged universities to close down Confucius Institutes because of their potential threat to academic freedom, it does not appear many schools are taking this recommendation. Indeed, until recently the challenge of Beijing’s influence on U.S. university campuses seemed mostly ignored, according to testimony by Sophie Richardson of Human Rights Watch last week. Richardson is preparing a lengthy report on Beijing’s influence on U.S. campuses. Countries also should reconsider participating in some of the people-to-people diplomacy that Beijing has stepped up in recent years, including trainings for journalists and other people who work in media firms. These people-to-people trainings in China could, in the future, be increasingly important tools for Beijing to influence media in foreign states.

Over the past year, both the Australian and New Zealand governments have faced reports that the Chinese government has gained influence within their political systems, universities, and media markets. So far only Canberra has responded firmly. Australia’s domestic intelligence agency [ASIO] wrote in its annual report to parliament this year that it believed foreign governments are trying to extend their influence (pdf) into Australian society, posing “a threat to our sovereignty, the ­integrity of our national institutions and the exercise of our citizens’ rights.” Beijing’s influence campaign within Australian and New Zealand domestic politics also may be a sign of the future. For more on China’s apparent influence strategy in Australia and New Zealand, and its relevance to Beijing’s increasingly assertive attempts to wield power within other states, read my new Expert Brief.

Reports that China has stepped up efforts to gain influence in foreign political systems have sparked concern in Australia, New Zealand, and other states amid signs that the campaign may be shaping debate on regional issues in Asia.