In May 2025, we argued in Australian Outlook that Australia needed strategic reconfiguration in the Asia-Pacific to withstand mounting trade volatility and geopolitical pressure. Since then, the situation has escalated beyond what most policymakers anticipated.

On 20 February 2026, the US Supreme Court ruled that the President could not use the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA) to impose tariffs. Within hours, the administration pivoted to Section 122 of the Trade Act of 1974, imposing a new 10 per cent global tariff. Estimates vary, but most place the average effective US tariff rate at roughly 10 to 14 per cent, levels not seen since the mid-twentieth century.

Eight days later, the United States and Israel launched coordinated strikes on Iran. The Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly a quarter of global seaborne oil transits, was effectively shut—major shipping firms, including Maersk and Hapag-Lloyd, suspended operations. Oil prices surged above $100 a barrel, triggering significant volatility in global markets and raising inflation concerns for central banks.

For Australia, the exposure is immediate and severe. The country imports roughly 90 per cent of its liquid fuel. It holds only about 34 days of diesel reserves, well below the International Energy Agency’s 90-day benchmark, a requirement Australia has not met for over a decade. Petrol prices are already rising sharply, with increases of close to 50 cents per litre reported in some cities following the crisis. Fertiliser supplies from the Gulf, critical ahead of planting season, are under threat. From agriculture to aviation, sectors are already feeling the pressure.

At the same time, Artificial Intelligence (AI) is rewriting the competitive logic of entire industries, Quantum Computing is approaching commercial viability, and Space assets are becoming contested strategic terrain. These forces have not arrived one by one. They have arrived together and are interacting.

This convergence may seem unprecedented for policymakers, but it’s familiar territory for Olympic sailors. One of our colleagues competed at the Paris 2024 Games in Marseille and has spent years racing in conditions defined by exactly this kind of simultaneous, unpredictable change.

Before one Olympic race, a critical piece of rigging failed as the crew headed to the course. The boat was still sailable but locked into a single performance mode, unable to adjust to changing conditions. Without fixing it before the start, the race would have been over before it began. The crew repaired what they could and arrived at the start line moments before the gun in the biggest race of their lives.

That experience mirrors what Australia is navigating right now. And two concepts from the sport speak directly to Australia’s strategic posture.

Tacking Through Multiple Crises

In sailing, it’s physically impossible to sail directly upwind. Progress necessitates tacking, a zigzag course where the crew alternates between angles, making lateral moves that ultimately carry the boat forward. From above, it looks inefficient. From the cockpit, it’s the only way to reach your destination.

Australia’s strategic reconfiguration demands a similar approach. Deepening ties with India, Japan, South Korea, and Southeast Asia, as we argued in our earlier piece, isn’t a straightforward path from vulnerability to resilience. It requires calculated lateral moves. Piloting new trade partnerships before committing fully, diversifying energy sourcing before the next corridor closes, investing in emerging strategic domains like Space technology, where Australia already has cooperative agreements with India, Japan, and South Korea, and building relationships across multiple regions in addition to an existing alliance or trade routes.

The security dimension adds urgency. Australia cannot simply optimise for commercial returns in regions with elevated geopolitical risk. It must strike a balance between commercial opportunity and security exposure, adjusting course as alignments shift and regulatory environments evolve. The current Middle East crisis makes this painfully clear. In the days following the February 28 strikes, Japanese refiners, which source approximately 95 per cent of their crude from Gulf states, requested the government to release strategic oil stockpiles. Australia’s own response options are constrained precisely because earlier choices narrowed the room to manoeuvre.

Policymakers who insist on a straight-line strategy in the current environment will find themselves stalled, much like a sailboat facing directly into the wind.

Australia’s Apparent Wind

There is a concept in sailing that warrants serious attention in Canberra, i.e., apparent wind. The wind a sailor feels on the boat is not the true wind. It is a combination of the actual wind and the boat’s own motion. Two boats in the same water, in the same breeze, can experience fundamentally different conditions based entirely on their own speed and direction.

This explains why Australia’s experience of the Hormuz crisis differs sharply from that of its neighbours. Japan sources roughly 90 per cent of its crude oil from the Gulf and faces an acute, immediate energy risk. The United States, now a net energy exporter, is relatively insulated and may even benefit from higher global prices. Australia sits somewhere in between, heavily import-dependent on liquid fuel but with substantial domestic gas production and policies that help limit prices on the east coast. The implication for Australian policymakers is significant. Benchmarking Australia’s strategic response against others is useful but can be misleading. The environment Australia actually experiences is shaped not only by global forces but by the choices it has already made, or failed to make, about its own momentum and direction. Australia’s 34 days of diesel reserves, its non-compliant strategic fuel stockpile, and its heavy dependence on imported fuel transiting vulnerable maritime corridors are all choices that now define its apparent wind.

The practical question for policymakers is not “what is happening in the global environment?” It is “given our current speed and heading, what environment are we actually experiencing?”

Strategic Agility, Not Policy Prediction

The best Olympic sailors do not succeed by predicting the weather perfectly. They succeed by developing the capability to respond when the forecast proves wrong. Australia needs to adopt the same discipline.

The country’s strategic posture has long been built around planning comprising defence white papers, trade roadmaps, and alliance frameworks. These remain important. But they share a common vulnerability. They assume the environment will hold still long enough to execute the plan. February 2026 proved it won’t. The Supreme Court ruled against presidential tariff authority. The Strait of Hormuz closed over the weekend. And these events collided with technology revolutions already reshaping global competition.

What Australia needs now is not just a better plan, but a greater capacity to act when plans fail, by incorporating the international business and security perspective. That means investing in the capabilities that enable rapid adjustment. Diversified supply chains, energy reserves that meet IEA standards, deeper partnerships across the Indo-Pacific, and institutions that can make decisions at the speed the current environment demands. It means accepting that the path to resilience will look more like tacking than a straight line, and that lateral moves toward India, Japan, South Korea, and Southeast Asia are not detours but the most direct route available.

Olympic sailors understand something that strategic planners often resist: conditions will change, plans may fail, and competitors will not wait. The question is whether Australia has built the strategic agility to respond. Right now, with 34 days of diesel and a single maritime corridor under threat, the honest answer is not yet. But the wind has not stopped blowing, and the race is not over.

Dr Arpit Raswant is an Assistant Professor of International Business at the University of Newcastle in Australia and a Visiting Researcher in Entrepreneurship and Strategy at Lancaster University in the United Kingdom. He is a former Korea Foundation Fellow and a POSCO Asia Fellow at Korea University in South Korea. His research has been published in the Journal of International Business Studies, the Journal of World Business, the Journal of Business Research, and other leading international journals. His research focuses on firm investment from social, economic, and security perspectives and is currently leading a research program on frontier markets, including Artificial Intelligence, Quantum Computing, and Space.  Contact: arpit.raswant@newcastle.edu.au

Dr Jiye Kim is an Assistant Professor of International Security at the University of Queensland and a researcher affiliated with the University of Sydney in Australia. Her work explores international security issues using multilingual and multi-country approaches. She specialises in international relations, focusing on the Asia-Pacific region and linking international business with security challenges, including climate, health, and Space. She is the author of The Future of the South China Sea, published by the University of Michigan Press. Contact: jiye.kim@uq.edu.au, jiye.kim@sydney.edu.au

Brin Liddell is an elite Australian Olympic sailor competing in the Nacra 17, with campaigns focused on Paris 2024 and Los Angeles 2028. Alongside his sporting career, he is completing a Bachelor of Business (Innovation and Entrepreneurship) at the University of Newcastle. His interests sit at the intersection of high-performance sport, decision-making under uncertainty, and strategic thinking in dynamic environments. Contact: brin.liddell@uon.edu.au

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

On Tuesday 3 March 2026 Dr Lachlan Strahan, former Australian diplomat and High Commissioner to the Solomon Islands, addressed AIIA NSW at Glover Cottages in a wide-ranging conversation with Ben Doherty, an award-winning foreign correspondent whose work has appeared across The Guardian, The Age, and the ABC, among others. The occasion centred on Dr Strahan’s recently published memoir The Curious Diplomat, which charts his thirty-year career across postings in Germany, South Korea, India, the Solomon Islands and representing Australia at the United Nations in Geneva, as well as working on policy formulation in Canberra.

Doherty opened proceedings with a quote about the importance of diplomacy from Guests of the Ayatollah, a book on the 1979 Iranian hostage crisis. Strahan drew a parallel with the current situation in the Middle East, arguing that the Trump administration had not genuinely attempted diplomacy before escalating tensions with Iran, and emphasising that diplomacy should always be the first resort. He pointed to the dismantling of the Obama-era nuclear framework agreement with Iran, imperfect as it was, as a cautionary example of what happens when diplomacy, with its demands for compromise and the judgment to know when enough has been achieved, is abandoned. A similar lesson was illustrated with Australia’s still-unresolved feasibility study for a free trade agreement with India, first launched in 2008.

On the culture of diplomacy itself, Strahan acknowledged that this work spans a remarkable spectrum, from productive, collegial partnerships to what he did not hesitate to describe as the occasional “knife fight,” recalling a human rights dialogue with Iran that descended into near-shouting and repeated threats to walk out. He commented on the rarity of Australian diplomatic memoirs, which he attributed to an ingrained institutional culture of non-disclosure, ongoing security obligations, and the ever-present risk of defamation. His own motivation in publishing his memoir combined a lifelong compulsion to write with a desire to process the personal toll of a demanding career.

Strahan described the question of reconciling personal disagreement with government policy as a central tension inherent in public service. During the Howard government’s handling of climate policy, he found his discomfort sufficient that he stepped back from the negotiating delegation. It was clear, however, that a coherent foreign service cannot function if individual diplomats pursue their own agendas. In unsparing comments on ministerial character, Strahan was especially critical of those who lacked the courage to press difficult issues, recalling one unnamed minister who, sitting across from senior Chinese officials, systematically skipped every hard issue in the brief.

The conversation turned to Australia’s relationship with India, where Strahan urged a move beyond the hackneyed invocation of the “three Cs”: cricket, curry and Commonwealth. He expressed concern about the Modi government’s trajectory, arguing that its erosion of India’s secular pluralism was undermining one of the historic foundations of the bilateral relationship, and drawing a parallel with the United States under Trump, asking whether populist-nationalist changes of this kind, once made, can ever be truly reversed.

On the Solomon Islands – the posting he described as the most challenging of his career – Strahan offered a frank account of the 2022 security agreement between Honiara and Beijing, which became the unexpected centrepiece of an Australian federal election campaign. He was critical of both sides of politics for turning the Solomons into a political football, characterising the outcome as the worst foreign policy blunder in the Pacific since World War II. He was equally clear, however, that China’s tactics in the Pacific, particularly coopting political elites and forming links to corrupt business networks, warranted genuine concern. His counsel was against both reflexive alarm and wilful obliviousness: Australia must accept that Pacific nations see China through their own eyes and engage accordingly, rather than berate them for their contacts with China.

In discussion with the audience, Strahan reflected on the personal costs of a diplomatic career, including disruption to partners’ professional lives, the uprooting of children and the psychological weight of managing difficult conduct within a mission. On why he left DFAT, he said that the Solomon Islands posting had taken chunks out of him, and when his department continued pressing him on to further Pacific work despite his requests for a change, an offer from his publisher to write a book had made it easy to decide on a return to his life as a historian.

An audience member took up his comment that few Australian diplomats had written about their professional lives, pointing to numerous diplomatic memoirs dating back as far as the 1950s.

On conflict management in diplomacy, Strahan was clear that no single approach works universally. He recalled being deliberately blunt with a Canadian delegation that was digging in its heels, a tactic he judged would work with them but would never use with the French or Americans. In the Solomon Islands, cultural nuance demanded an entirely different register, just as a calm, measured response was the only viable option when faced with a minister’s temper. Each country, each culture and each situation, he argued, demands its own tactics. 

On the rules-based international order, Strahan noted, that while the United States has always selectively ignored its obligations, the system functions best when Washington is positively engaged and comes under acute pressure when it is not. His broader prescription for Australian foreign policy was more strategic boldness: a greater willingness to stand alone on specific issues, and less reflexive alignment with the great and powerful friend.

Report by Federico Canas Velasco, AIIA NSW intern

Ben Doherty (right), Dr Lachlan Strahan (second from right), AIIA NSW intern Federic Canas Velasco (second from left) and AIIA president Ian Lincoln (left)

Australia’s renewed focus on defence capability and personnel wellbeing is welcome. Yet one significant factor shaping personnel performance remains largely unaddressed: family separation during deployment.

Research led by the Monash Global Peace and Security (GPS) Centre and funded by Global Affairs Canada as part of the Elsie Initiative for Women in Peace Operations has identified family separation as one of the key challenges for personnel with caring responsibilities deploying to UN peace operations, impacting wellbeing, mental health, and performance in peace operations.

Interviews with peacekeepers by Monash GPS reveal this is a significant issue that warrants greater attention and investment. Addressing it would improve the experiences of deployed personnel, enhance operational effectiveness by reducing stressors, and encourage more personnel, particularly women, to deploy.

What Is The Issue?

For peacekeepers, caring responsibilities do not stop when they are away. Many describe the additional work required to manage and fulfil their caring responsibilities while away, including maintaining regular contact and a daily routine, and the resources needed to organise care in their absence.

The research found that family separation affects the well-being and mental health of peacekeepers and can also strain their relationships. The stress of being away from their family is often compounded by working in a high-pressure environment.

It can lead to feelings of guilt about being absent and distracted at work. Many feel anxious when they are unable to communicate frequently due to work schedules, time differences, unstable internet, or a lack of private spaces. One British military officer explains: “That emotional guilt starts to kick in as well: Have I done the right thing [going] on tour…[or] being in the army? Am I doing the right thing staying in the army?”

In addition, many peacekeepers are unable to travel home during their rest and recuperation (R&R) period, either due to financial constraints, distance or insufficient time to travel home and back to the mission. One peacekeeper at the UN mission in South Sudan (UNMISS) recalls a colleague who was stressed and “crying every day” because she could not afford a ticket home to see her children.

According to a military officer at UNHQ, the “anxiousness of not being able to communicate is harder than actually being absent.” To overcome this, some peacekeepers have found innovative ways to remain engaged with their families at home. For instance, peacekeepers in the UN mission in Cyprus report that having access to video games while on the mission helped them bond with their children while away.

Who Does It Impact?

Although separation from families impacts personnel regardless of their gender, our research finds that women are expected to continue the bulk of care work while deployed. In interviews with Monash GPS, female peacekeepers describe organising and managing care while away, including childcare and medical appointments for older family members. They also describe guilt and social stigma for being away from their children.

Separation also impacts the family members at home. For instance, partners or other family members may assume additional caregiving responsibilities, and relationships may be strained, potentially leading to divorce upon peacekeepers’ return. It can also affect children’s well-being, as they may “grow up without one parent who is always in the field,” says a staff member at UNMISS. Several peacekeepers, both men and women, share instances in which their children grew distant and “don’t want to speak to me anymore” (male police officer at the UN Stabilisation Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUSCO)). Some also face challenges with their children’s behaviour and education.

What Can Be Done About It?

Australia and other troop and police-contributing countries (T/PCCs), as well as the UN, can improve support for personnel to manage their caring responsibilities while deployed and reduce the negative impacts of family separation. First, include care in pre-deployment training to help personnel and their families prepare for separation and know what support is available.

Additionally, during deployment, T/PCCs should ensure access to reliable internet and private spaces. Leadership should also ensure personnel have a regular time to call home. Additional support can be provided to return home during R&R, including covering travel time and increasing financial support for those on longer deployments.

Support can also include education packages, healthcare and financial assistance for care in their absence. For instance, to increase the number of women deploying to peace operations, Uruguay has introduced a family grant scheme to assist with educational expenses during deployment, enabling parents to cover school transportation or access tutoring. While other peacekeepers interviewed by Monash GPS suggest that increasing access to psychosocial services in the mission will help manage stress, support personnel’s mental health and well-being, and destigmatise self-care and help-seeking..

There are also ways T/PCCs can support returning peacekeepers, including providing guidance and assistance to help personnel and their families with reintegration and reconnection, and access to counselling and family support services.

Benefits of Addressing the Issue

Addressing the stress of family separation among deployed personnel will mitigate negative mental and physical health outcomes. This reduces the risk of negative coping mechanisms, burnout, depression, and harmful behaviours (towards the self or others), and promotes self-care and wellbeing, which, participants noted, “in turn positively impacts their performance, commitment, and job satisfaction” (according to one research participant).

Supporting personnel in managing family separation is not a peripheral or private matter. Rather, it is central to performance, retention and operational success. Institutions that take care seriously are better placed to build a capable, diverse, and resilient workforce.

Lauren Lowe is a PhD candidate in the School of Social Sciences at Monash University, Australia, examining gender and Kosovo’s peace process. She is also a research officer at the Monash Global Peace and Security (GPS) Centre researching women’s participation in peacebuilding and peacekeeping.

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

On 7 February, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese visited Indonesia and signed the Australia–Indonesia Treaty on Common Security with Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto in Jakarta. The agreement aims to strengthen defence cooperation between the two countries. During the visit, the Prime Minister also announced new initiatives, including support for joint defence training facilities in Indonesia, the creation of an embedded senior Indonesian military officer role within the Australian Defence Force, and an expansion of military education exchanges for junior leaders. Australia and Indonesia additionally agreed to boost economic cooperation through a Memorandum of Understanding between the Australian Government and Indonesia’s sovereign wealth fund, Danantara, to increase two-way investment and information sharing. Prime Minister Albanese said, “This historic treaty recognises that the best way to secure peace and stability in our region is by working together.”

On 8 February, Foreign Minister Penny Wong announced the appointment of four senior diplomats to key overseas posts. Robyn Mudie was named Australia’s next High Commissioner to Singapore, Geoff Bowan as Ambassador to Ukraine with non-resident accreditation to Moldova,  Tom Wilson as Ambassador to Lebanon, and  Neil Hawkins as Ambassador to Israel. The Government stated these appointments are intended to strengthen Australia’s diplomatic engagement and advance cooperation in areas such as trade, security, and regional partnerships.

On 9 February, the Australian Government released a statement expressing concern about the sentencing of Hong Kong media figure Jimmy Lai and his co-defendants. The statement said the prosecution had a chilling effect on free speech and called for the protection of freedoms of expression, assembly, and the media. The Government added that it has raised human rights concerns with both the Hong Kong and Chinese authorities and will continue to do so, with Foreign Minister Penny Wong stating, “We continue to call on China to cease suppression of freedoms of expression, assembly, media and civil society, consistent with UN Human Rights Committee recommendations, and to call for the repeal of the National Security Law in Hong Kong.”

Also on 9 February, Minister for Defence Personnel Matt Keogh announced the launch of two new Australian Defence Force space roles, Space Operations Officer and Space Operations Specialist, aimed at expanding Australia’s capabilities in space operations. The roles form part of efforts to build a sovereign space workforce across areas including satellite communications, missile warning, intelligence, and space domain awareness. Keogh said the positions would support Defence in responding to “the most challenging strategic environment since the Second World War.”

On 11 February, Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Defence Richard Marles announced he would travel to Belgium and Germany to attend a series of defence and security meetings. In Brussels, the Deputy Prime Minister is scheduled to attend the 33rd Ukraine Defence Contact Group meeting, co-chaired by the United Kingdom and Germany, which brings together more than 50 nations to coordinate the delivery of military aid to Ukraine. He will then travel to Germany to attend the 62^nd Munich Security Conference, taking place from February 13 to 15, where he is expected to hold high-level meetings with partners from NATO and the Indo-Pacific. In a statement,  Marles said, “Australia is unwavering in our support for Ukraine in its fight against Russia’s illegal and immoral invasion.”

On 12 February, Foreign Minister Penny Wong appointed Pablo Kang as Special Envoy to assist ongoing investigations into the methanol poisoning deaths of Australian citizens Holly Bowles and Bianca Jones in Laos. Kang, a senior official in the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, was asked to travel to Laos to advance the case and engage with local authorities.  The Government said it will continue to support families and press for transparency and accountability in the investigations.

Akshit Tyagi is an intern at Australian Outlook at the Australian Institute of International Affairs. He is a postgraduate student in International Relations at the Australian National University, Canberra, and holds a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration as well as a Postgraduate Diploma in Journalism. He previously worked as a business reporter in New Delhi and has written for The Canberra Times, Woroni (ANU student media), The Hill, and other publications.

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

This makes Australia and Denmark members of an exclusive club of only 15 States with polar territory, the future of which has come under increasing scrutiny.

Australia and Denmark also have other common interests, which have been reaffirmed and deepened in recent years. Both are founding members of the United Nations, and diplomatic relations were first established in 1967 and have since “forged ever-closer bonds”. Denmark’s Queen Mary is a Tasmanian by birth, and a State visit by King Frederik and the Queen is planned for March. The two countries signed a Strategic Partnership in July 2023, which asserts “a firm commitment to universal human rights, democracy, the rights of First Nations and Indigenous peoples, … and protection of the rules and norms of international law.” Those shared values are fully encapsulated in the serious dispute arising over Greenland’s future.

In recent weeks, Donald Trump’s rhetoric about acquiring Greenland has intensified and cannot be dismissed as a social media whim. Trump has form when it comes to Greenland. Its acquisition was first raised by Trump 1.0 in 2019, but was never seriously advanced. Days before returning to the White House in January 2025, these aspirations were revived. Donald Trump Jr. was dispatched to visit Nuuk, and in March 2025, US Vice President JD Vance visited the American military base in Greenland. Talk of the US acquiring Greenland then subsided, but now, in the wake of the success of the January Venezuelan operation, it has returned to the spotlight. Trump has made clear he intends to secure Greenland “the easy way or the hard way”. Strong pushback from European allies at the recent 2026 Davos Economic Forum appeared to be a turning point for Trump’s Greenland aspirations. Threats of economic retaliation against European trade partners and of using the US military to acquire Greenland were reined in. Discussions between Trump and NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte seemed to reassure Trump that NATO was also serious about Greenland’s security and that of the Arctic more generally. Rutte said, “We have to do more there. We have to protect the Arctic against Russian and Chinese influence. … We are working on that, making sure that, collectively, we will defend the Arctic region.” This may have satisfied the US for the time being. Still, the 2026 US National Defence Strategy, released on 23 January following Davos, and its five references to Greenland confirm that Greenland’s future is a focal point of US defence interests.

Australia has been remarkably silent on the question of Greenland’s future. No formal statements of solidarity with Denmark have been issued. Instead, during media rounds at the height of the recent furore, all Foreign Minister Penny Wong could say was “Australia’s position is very clearly that the future of Greenland is a matter for the people of Greenland and for Denmark.” Yet any US seizure of Greenland would fundamentally fracture the global rules-based international order and have profound implications globally and for Australia. First, it is unlikely NATO could survive either an economic or military attack by its most powerful member against a small, semi-autonomous majority indigenous territory that poses no threat to the US. A rupture in NATO would affect its 32 members and key NATO Global Partners, such as Australia, Japan, and Korea. The Five Eyes intelligence alliance would also be threatened. Second, the US annexation of Greenland would give China the green light to intensify its campaign to acquire Taiwan. The parallels between a nuclear superpower using its might to seize a democratic, peaceful island for national security purposes would be clear. Finally, suggestions that the Trump White House is effectively dividing the world into various hemispheric spheres of influence for China, Russia, and the US would also be reaffirmed. The November 2025 US National Security Strategy’s reference to the Nineteenth-century Monroe Doctrine and the recent National Defense Strategy, and its focus on the Western Hemisphere and the so-called “key terrain,” are keyholes into Washington’s thinking on hemispheric influence.

The 2023 Australia-Denmark Strategic Partnership states that “The changing global strategic environment challenges stability, economic prosperity, and the international rules-based order. Like-minded countries, Australia and Denmark, understand the importance of increased collaboration at the multilateral level to ensure a stable geostrategic balance that allows for a peaceful, prosperous, and secure world.” Will Australia stand up for Denmark, or is the Strategic Partnership just words on paper? Canberra has few immediate levers to pull other than deploying diplomacy. Denmark’s global partners, including Australia, need to be firm in their resolve in rejecting any US aggression. Foreign Minister Penny Wong should address these issues directly in public and with her counterparts. Australia should coordinate clear statements with like-minded counties reaffirming respect for the UN Charter, Denmark’s sovereignty over Greenland, and the rights of its indigenous peoples to determine their own future. These principles are so fundamental to the international law rules-based order that Australia would find strong support for such a statement. Other Albanese government Ministers, when engaging with US Cabinet members and White House officials, and Canberra’s departing Ambassador, Kevin Rudd with his multiple contacts throughout Washington, should prioritise making clear Australia’s firm position on Greenland and persuading Trump Administration officials to avoid any takeover of the island.

Donald R. Rothwell is Professor of International Law at the ANU School of Law, ANU, and a specialist in polar law.

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

On the Indian side, the Act East Policy (AEP), launched in 2014 as the successor to the Look East Policy (LEP), aimed to deepen India’s engagement with Southeast Asia through trade, infrastructure, and people-to-people links. The best way to understand how this partnership is unfolding on the ground is to look at recent developments in the northeastern state of Assam, a region once treated as a remote frontier but now emerging as the hinge that can swing South Asia toward Southeast Asia.

The transformation was on full display at the “Advantage Assam 2.0” Investment and Infrastructure Summit in Guwahati on 25-26 February 2025. Attended by representatives of sixty-two foreign missions, the meeting showcased Assam’s claim to be “the gateway to Northeast India and Southeast Asia.” Speaking at a session titled “Act East, Act Fast and Act First,” Japanese Ambassador ONO Keiichi highlighted Tokyo’s expanding footprint: more than ₹22,000 crore committed to roads, water systems, electricity, health care, biodiversity and, most symbolically, the flagship North-East Road Network Connectivity Improvement Project. That project is stitching together transport corridors that lead from Assam through Meghalaya toward Bangladesh and, beyond, to Myanmar and Thailand, weaving India’s domestic markets into the economic fabric of Southeast Asia.

Infrastructure, however, is only half the story. The other half is human capital. Japan’s population is aging rapidly, with the average age nearly 48, while Assam’s median age hovers around 22. Recognising the demographic complementarity, Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma launched the Chief Minister’s Foreign Language Initiative for Global Human Talent (CM-FLIGHT) in July 2025. The programme will train 3,000 Assamese youths in Japanese to the JLPT N2 level, qualifying them for Japan’s Specified Skilled Worker visas. Each participant will receive a government subsidy of ₹1.5 lakh toward tuition, with the remainder payable through bank loans easily serviced by entry-level salaries in Japan, which can reach ₹2.5 lakh per month. Partnerships with Japanese firms like ASEAN ONE Co. Ltd. and Meiko Career Partners, forged during the Advantage Assam summit, ensure that training aligns with industry needs, making this a sustainable model for skill-based migration. For Assam, it is a pragmatic answer to unemployment and under-employment, for Japan, it is a lifeline for sectors ranging from aged-care nursing to information technology and for the wider region, it is an experiment in circular migration that ties communities together more tightly than any free-trade agreement.

This human capital initiative is just one facet of a broader strategic ecosystem being cultivated through high-level diplomacy and investment. Sarma’s January 2025 visit to Tokyo, followed by Japan’s Speaker of the House, Nukaga Fukushiro’s three-day stay in Assam, signalled that the partnership is becoming embedded in elite networks and bureaucratic routines. The Chief Minister used his Tokyo meetings to pitch a dedicated business park for Japanese firms outside Guwahati and to request the establishment of testing centres for technical intern programmes. In contrast, Japanese leaders expressed interest in sectors ranging from renewable energy to semiconductors to tourism. Back home, External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar publicly acknowledged Japan’s unique role in the Northeast through the India-Japan Act East Forum, noting that mobility initiatives and capacity-building projects now receive priority treatment in bilateral discussions.

The strategic logic behind these moves is straightforward. Assam sits at the neck of the geographic corridor linking India not only to its own Northeast but also to the markets of Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, and Vietnam. Upgrading highways, bridges, and inland waterways, therefore, has regional implications well beyond state boundaries. Economically vibrant land routes between South and Southeast Asia help de-risk supply chains that currently depend heavily on contested maritime chokepoints. Japanese support for road projects in the Northeast and for deep-seaports like Matarbari in Bangladesh thus dovetails with Tokyo’s broader effort to secure alternative logistics pathways across the Indo-Pacific.  At the same time, sending skilled Assamese to work in Japan does more than fill labour shortages; it seeds a network of remittances, cultural fluency, and professional contacts that will endure long after individual visas expire. For countries across Southeast Asia, which are themselves grappling with aging populations and digital transitions, the Assam–Japan model offers a template for how sub-national regions can mobilise international partnerships to leapfrog development stages.

Moreover, Japanese assistance in sectors such as bamboo value chains, forest management, and renewable energy underscores a preference for sustainable growth, dovetails with global climate goals, and reinforces a rules-based order built on transparency and mutually beneficial investment.

For New Delhi, the implications are equally far-reaching. By demonstrating that the AEP delivers visible gains, motorable roads, industrial parks, and overseas jobs, the government strengthens domestic support for outward-looking policies. It encourages other Northeastern states to pursue similar international partnerships. For Southeast Asian capitals, the message is that India’s engagement is increasingly multisectoral and grounded in projects they can measure in container volumes and tourist arrivals, not just communiqués. For the wider Indo-Pacific, the Assam-Japan nexus adds density to a regional architecture that balances major-power competition with developmental pragmatism.

Pratyush Paras Sarma is a PhD researcher at the School of Politics and International Relations. Research School of Social Science, Australian National University, Canberra. His research focuses on the strategic dimensions of election campaigns in the Indian context, with a specific focus on political parties’ behaviour during campaigns. Beyond his doctoral work, Pratyush examines international security and the intersection of global power dynamics and sport, expanding his academic engagement with themes of power, strategy, and global governance.

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

The outcome of the first serious Trump-Albanese meeting was always going to be unpredictable, which makes its deliverables all the more impressive.  

By any objective measure, the meeting was a success. The headline outcome, a US $8.5 billion critical minerals framework, builds the backbone for joint investment in at least six Australian projects. It stands as recognition that governments must act to counter China’s dominance over rare earths and supply chains. The agreement, coming just days after Beijing’s threats to tighten exports, could not have been better timed.  

It was also the first time Trump had spoken at any length about AUKUS, which he enthusiastically backed. One Australian journalist attempted to stir the pot by alluding to AUKUS as a Biden initiative. This didn’t faze the president, because, under Trump, of course, AUKUS was just better. When the question of “ambiguities” in the arrangement arose, Trump’s instinctive remark to his Navy Secretary was vintage: “You’re going to get that taken care of, right?”  

Trump didn’t seem to know what those ambiguities were, but they were probably a reference to critical aspects of the upcoming US Defence Department review of the deal. Trump’s comments will probably deflate any criticism of AUKUS that the review might contain. This is how autocratic leadership works: leaders make comments, and underlings have to scramble to align to the new political reality. 

Then there was the syrupy gush of praise Trump thinks others crave, mainly because he wants it himself. Albanese had “done a fantastic job” and was “very popular.” There was no berating about defence spending, no lecturing about tariffs beyond a perfunctory “Australia pays the lowest.” Trump repeated a line about Australia buying Boeing jets that Albanese had mentioned in earlier phone calls. 

The Australian prime minister did commend Trump on his foreign policy wins, notably the Middle East peace deal, but he was hardly as effusive as his counterpart. 

This kind of meeting, one that clearly advances the relationship but doesn’t succumb to the routine sycophancy we’ve come to expect from other leaders, is a win—and not one that happens by accident. As Foreign Minister Penny Wong (in Australia) noted afterwards, the success of the meeting reflected months of “enormous work and effort,” particularly from Ambassador Kevin Rudd and officials coordinating the minerals deal. Despite sections of our media bleating for months about the lack of personal contact, the government’s quiet preparation here has produced positive results. 

While the Australian government noted his work as essential, much of the press commentary will zero in on the short, mildly awkward exchange concerning Rudd—in particular, Trump’s comment that he did not like Rudd because the Australian ambassador had once “said bad” about him. Although it was a comic aside, it will likely be replayed ad infinitum in years to come as one of those “moments” in Australian political history.

The exchange with Rudd was sparked by a question from an Australian journalist. That the question was rolled into an inquiry on other supposed irritants—climate change and Palestine—was unfortunate. It would have been far more illuminating to hear Trump discuss Australia’s stance on those key global issues.

Because in reality, what our media won’t focus on is that Australia obviously does not enter Donald Trump’s imagination much at all. While that may be problematic to those who maintain that the Australian prime minister must be consistently courting the US president, it is actually very good news in today’s political climate.  

Trump’s worldview is transactional and emotive. He formed his views on international relations in the 1980s. A central US foreign policy narrative at the time was that Japan had manipulated trade policy and would eventually seek to dominate the United States economically—and, in more paranoid permutations of the theory, even militarily.  

Trump now extends this view to fixate on other allies that can be cast as taking advantage of America or thwarting its interests: Germany, South Korea, and, occasionally, Japan, despite its lost decades. 

Nations that neither threaten nor flatter this domestic narrative often don’t register. 

Australia, in that sense, is blessed by neglect. Australia receives American investment, we host US troops, we don’t run large trade surpluses or challenge Trump’s self-image. For him, we are at best background noise: the loyal ally that doesn’t need managing. That may bruise our national ego, but it keeps our interests out of the crossfire. 

Because Australia is not a prop in Trump’s theatre, policy can proceed quietly. The critical minerals deal and the AUKUS confirmation unfolded without drama precisely because Trump had no real domestic incentive to grandstand on these issues. 

It’s a pity, then, that many in Australia continue to personalise the alliance. Some focus on whether Albanese can get along with Trump, as if the bilateral relationship were an episode of The Apprentice. That mindset downplays the reality that Australia’s ties with the United States are institutional. They are embedded in bureaucracies, militaries, intelligence agencies, and networks, as well as shared interests that traditionally outlast any one presidency. The danger to us is that Trump is shredding many of these institutions, not that he will focus his ire on Australia or any one Australian in particular. 

The Albanese-Trump meeting worked then because of structure, not chemistry. Trump’s lack of emotional investment in Australia insulated Albanese from the volatility that has sometimes derailed other bilateral relationships. The result is a successful encounter: mostly polite and productive, if at times banal and rambling.  

Australia should draw confidence from this.  When Albanese told Trump that Australia’s approach to critical minerals was “a bit similar to putting America first,” he wasn’t pandering. He was translating policy into a language Trump understands. There have been politicians—Scott Morrison, Shinzo Abe, Victor Orban or even Kim Jong Un—who pursued flattery of Trump to measurable effect. However, the Albanese meeting shows that our engagement with the United States need not rely on such theatrics.  

Anyone who works adjacent to diplomats knows that attention and pecking order are often an obsession in the business. Under circumstances previously described as normal, attention from our powerful ally would have been interpreted as an asset. Ironically, however, in the current international environment, to be largely off the US president’s radar affords the Australian government room to pursue its goals. 

Dr Bryce Wakefield is the CEO of the Australian Institute of International Affairs and a Visiting Fellow at the Australian National University. He has lived, worked and researched in the United States, Japan, Europe and New Zealand. He trained as a political scientist with particular expertise in International Relations and the international affairs of East Asia.

This article is published under a Creative Commons license and may be republished with attribution.

Two years since its attack of 7 October 2023, Hamas has agreed to the first phase of a ceasefire proposal which, while having been put forward by President Donald Trump, appears to be a work of Anglophone collaboration. Drawing on (or perhaps proceeding from) work done under the auspices of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, a successful execution of the proposed plan could see a “Board of Peace” involved in international postwar management of Gaza, with key roles to be played by both Trump and Blair.

It is not difficult to draw conclusions in advance about the long-term prospects of such a plan. Even if we assume maximum short-term success — including the return of all remaining hostages, both alive and deceased, the successful demilitarization of Hamas, the withdrawal of Israel’s military, the establishment of an effective “technocratic, apolitical” administrative entity, and the commencement of reconstruction in Gaza — it is hard to envision a substantial Palestinian political future emerging from a plan developed in this way.

If Hamas – the only Palestinian political organisation to have won internationally-observed democratic elections this century – is to be excluded from postwar government, the idea of transition from temporary technocrats to a Palestinian government acceptable to the Anglophone sponsors of the current plan tends to fall back on discussions about a “reformed” Palestinian Authority. But the past two years of war have not shown the Palestinian Authority to be more credible than it was prior to 7 October 2023. It cannot be transformed into a politically legitimate and authoritative political entity by means of a “blueprint” produced by an Israeli Policy Forum and, as Nathan J. Brown has recently remarked, the very idea of a revived Palestinian politics that does not conform to the dictates of external management schemes is an idea that now, as in the past, would face “intense resistance”.          

It is also possible to draw conclusions about the organisational and political prospects of Hamas, for example that “weakened militarily and facing declining Palestinian support,” Hamas has run out of options, unless the movement might like to “transform itself into a political party” – or perhaps more specifically, to transform itself into a political party that conforms to international management of Palestinian politics. But while Hamas has clearly been weakened militarily, its recently renewed insurgent activities indicate that two years under siege have not quite succeeded in eliminating Hamas as a fighting force. It is also difficult to identify anything in Hamas’ organisational or political history that suggests it will undergo a transition to a pacified political practice in the near future.

The political future of Gaza remains uncertain, much like the potential for establishing a post-war zone of peace under Anglo-American guidance. However, we can make some general observations about Hamas’ conduct by reflecting on the two years following October 2023. Three such observations could be as follows.

First, Hamas does not seem to have been operating as a mere adjunct of Iranian decision-making, and the challenge it has posed to the State of Israel is distinct from Israel’s broader confrontation with Iran. In an acute early assessment of Hamas’ attack, Khaled Hroub suggested that, by acting independently of Iran and Hizballah, Hamas’ ambitious attack may have been a case of “nothing fails like success,” leading to a very uncertain future for the movement. This remains the case today. Yet over the past two years, Hamas has also catalysed and sustained a local and international situation to which the State of Israel has struggled to respond effectively, and which will require a complex process of recovery in Israel’s state and society, once the war is over. Overcoming this situation is unlikely to be made easier by attributing Hamas’ agency to Iranian patronage.

Second, Hamas has demonstrated its capacity to continue to act as a negotiating party (via Qatari and Egyptian intermediaries), regardless of being reduced militarily, and regardless of Israel’s assassination of its leaders in Gaza and abroad. While those senior figures who escaped assassination in Israel’s 9 September strike on Doha can certainly be attributed with ongoing decision-making power, the successful assassination of senior Hamas leaders during 2024 has not reduced Hamas to capitulation, and any future negotiation (indirect or direct) between Israel or the Trump administration and Hamas will require dealing with whatever leadership remains authoritative in the movement. This will not matter if Hamas can be effectively pacified after a conclusive hostage exchange. However, it will matter if Hamas, as an organised idea of resistance and a movement with leaders, is not permanently eliminated. Such a permanent elimination is not a conclusion that can be easily drawn.

Third, Hamas has shown itself capable of having large numbers of Palestinians released from Israeli prisons as a result of negotiated hostage-prisoner exchanges during the war. In the short term, it is not difficult to draw some conclusions about how this effective liberation might be perceived by Palestinians in the West Bank, in contrast to the “administrative detention” of Palestinians that has proceeded over the years, during the Palestinian Authority’s longstanding security cooperation with Israel. In the long term, Palestinians liberated from prison during the war will no doubt draw various conclusions of their own about what was achieved for the future of Palestinian politics as a result of Hamas’ 7 October attack. The feasibility of releasing high-profile figures such as Marwan Barghouti or Ibrahim Hamed as part of the current negotiations has naturally attracted attention. But some of the less well-known Palestinians who have already been released – many of them young people – may become prominent in resistance activities in the future, whether in Islamist or other modes. If they do, it would be logical for them to describe their ascendance in connection with their liberation from prison by Hamas.

While it is too early to jump to conclusions about the long-term success of the Trump plan for peace in Gaza, it is perhaps not too soon to observe that Hamas has been something other than a political failure during the course of the war, in the independence with which it has acted, in the persistence of its identity as a negotiating party, and in the unknown future directions – perhaps some of them involving political leadership – that will be taken by Palestinians released from prison since 7 October 2023.

Benedict Moleta is a PhD student in the Department of International Relations at the Australian National University, writing on the work of Coral Bell. His master’s thesis  (2020, University of Sydney) was on relations between the European Union and Palestine, focussing on the prospects of Hamas. Contact via ANU. 

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

He is the Founder and CEO of GRASP – Geopolitical Risks & Strategy Practice, a specialist advisory firm helping companies, governments and universities navigate global disruption, mitigate geopolitical risk and build institutional resilience.  Philipp is a trusted advisor to C-suite, university leaders and senior policymakers on risk, strategy, China, and major-power competition.

Philipp brings a rare, lived perspective — having worked in China, Russia and the United States — the three powers at the core of today’s geopolitical upheaval

A globally recognised expert on China and China-Russia relations, Philipp has been published in New York Times, Financial Times, South China Morning Post, Bloomberg, CNBC, and The Australian Financial Review. A passionate advocate for Asia literacy, he co-led the Business Council of Australia’s National Asia Taskforce, and founded and co-edited the 5-volume Disruptive Asia essay series.

Previously, Philipp was Global Chief Programming Officer and Senior Fellow at Asia Society New York, where he led global strategy across 16 international centres and founded the China-Russia Program. From 2015 to 2023, he was CEO of Asia Society Australia, which he transformed into Australia’s leading business and policy institution focused on Asia — tripling its revenue, expanding its policy impact, and securing a new national HQ in Melbourne, in partnership with the Victorian Government. Earlier in his career, he served as a diplomat and China policy officer at the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, where he co-authored Australia’s first public China Country Strategy.

Philipp has deep sectoral experience in higher education. He was Deputy and Acting Director at the University of Sydney’s Research Institute for Asia and the Pacific, and advised the Vice-Chancellor on China offshore centre strategy. At La Trobe University, he led international scholarship and transnational partnerships across Southeast Asia and the Gulf.

Philipp is currently an Industry Fellow at UTS Business School and a Visiting Scholar at the School of Foreign Service, Georgetown University. He holds board and advisory roles with the Foundation for Australian Studies in China (FASIC), Global Women Asia, Geopolitical Strategy and the Office of Diplomatic Engagement and Training at the City University of New York. A Fulbright Scholar in US-Australia Alliance Studies (Georgetown, 2023), Australian Government’s Endeavour Executive Fellow (China National Academy of Education Administration, 2009) and a McKinsey Executive Leadership Program alumnus, Philipp has lived and worked in China, United States and Russia. He speaks fluent Chinese and Russian.

When off the grid, you’ll find him soaking in the raw majesty of the South Australian outback.