Anthony Albanese must feel that he understands how John Curtin felt after the fall of Singapore. The idea that Winston Churchill “abandoned” Australia to its fate is virtually a dogmatic myth inside Labor, not only part of the cult of Curtin but of Paul Keating, whose version of what occurred has been often repeated.
Curtin had long believed that the Singapore naval base, the supposed bulwark keeping Japan from attacking south-east Asia, was vulnerable. And that Australia was accordingly vulnerable too, because it had committed most of its armed forces to the Middle East and would be naked and exposed to Japanese mercies if Singapore fell. Curtin wanted to bring his troops home to defend the continent and the Pacific. He did not know that Britain and the US president had already privately agreed that if Japan entered the war (which it soon did by attacking Malaya, Pearl Harbour and the Philippines), Britain and the US would focus their force on beating Germany first.
Churchill, who regarded the Australians as being “windy”, and didn’t mind saying so, needed the Australian troops in Egypt. He pleaded with Curtin. Look, if there were a serious threat to Australia, he insisted, Britain would drop everything, even its commitments in Britain and rush to Australia’s defence. Curtin did not believe him, or, more accurately, believed that a Japanese attack would occur at a time when Britain was simply incapable of keeping such a promise, even if Churchill meant it (which he didn’t.)
Churchill gave ground with bad grace and soon most of two divisions of Australians were at sea. Curtin knew they were ill-defended and he had sleepless nights. But then he was outraged to discover that Churchill, realising the Allies were in trouble from the Japanese in Burma and Sumatra, secretly ordered the Royal Navy to divert the troops to Rangoon and Java. Telling Curtin in arrears that he knew he would “understand” the higher priority of this task.
Curtin did not understand or agree. He insisted the troops be returned. But some were already engaged and were captured, unavailable to be thrust into almost immediate combat in Papua New Guinea.
With great and powerful friends like this, who needs enemies?
Curtin, meanwhile, had made a plea to America for assistance. Other than in the air, it played little further role in the war against Germany. It was a further significant development in an already long saga of what diplomat Alan Gyngell called an Australian “fear of abandonment” and a belief that it had to tie itself closely to great and powerful friends if it was to secure its own defence.
Albanese has not had to endure from Britain what Curtin had come to see as a British downgrading of Australian defence interests at the peak of World War II. In recent years, Britain has linked with the US and Australia in a three-way deal involving the sharing of defence secrets, the provision of American nuclear submarines carrying conventional weapons to Australia, and a joint British-Australian project to build the next generation of nuclear submarines for Britain and Australia. The AUKUS project is expected to cost Australia about $400 billion over the next 30 years.
AUKUS was conceived by Albanese’s predecessor, Scott Morrison, as an electoral ploy against a surging Labor. It was not about defending Australia. It was about crippling Labor. Morrison and his advisers, political and bureaucratic, figured the deal was one which with Labor, suspicious of over-entanglement with the US, would not go along. He could then attack Labor as being “soft” on national security. But Albanese and an inner circle of shadow ministers decided to avoid his trap. It wasn’t brave or smart, but temporarily killed it off as an issue. When Labor won in May 2022, AUKUS should have been closely reviewed. But they decided to flesh it out. Since then, Albanese himself, and his deputy Richard Marles have become very committed to it. This is in spite of warnings and reservations from former Labor ministers and supporters, doubts about whether the US could or would honour the arrangements, and doubts about the reliability of Donald Trump as a military ally.
Suddenly, everything appears to have gone wrong, and while we are facing an election. Actually, it was predictable all along. Since coming to power on 20 January, Trump has been proclaiming a new policy in which America no longer presides over the Western alliance as a sort of super peacemaker. No more nice is right. It’s now might is right. Trump argues that America has been taken for a ride, and by its friends and allies as much as by the official enemies of the Western alliance. From now on, America is in it for itself. Alone.
He has attacked his NATO allies for not contributing enough for NATO security and wants them to pay twice as much for defence. Those who don’t pay should not be defended. He has insisted that they contribute at least twice as much for self-defence. For all intents and purposes, he has withdrawn America from the alliance so far as the protection of Europe from Russian invasion and the support of Ukraine go. He has been openly dealing with Russia, the villain in relation to Ukraine, and a nation still actively undermining the peace and security of Europe.
Most of the commentary about the future of Europe and the future of the NATO arrangements seem to assume that it has become a dead letter and that the old arrangements and understandings have been repudiated. Most agree that the NATO treaty having been killed, it cannot be revived, whether by a new regime after the next US election, or by a new gathering which meets to discuss revised and refreshed mutual defence, adjusted for the times.
NATO countries are openly saying that they no longer trust the US. The do not trust that it will come to their aid if they are attacked. And they do not trust it as a source of equipment. The need for more defence self-reliance, which Trump himself is pushing on them, involves re-equipment, particular after the weapons used in the Ukraine war. But the US almost appears to be taunting them into forming their own consortia to build new generations of aircraft, tanks and warships. America is reserving to itself whether it will guarantee supply of weapons and equipment. It is also not discouraging talk that sophisticated US equipment, such as aircraft, contains kill-switches that render them inoperable on secret US command. Equally, it cannot be said that the developing chasm is a result of misunderstanding, or misinterpretation, of what Trump is saying or doing. On the contrary, Trump is being blunt and calculatedly offensive. Neither he nor his envoys, including the vice-president and the secretary of state, have used ambiguity or diplomatic niceties to give other parties room, or to leave scope for misunderstanding. It may well be that Trump is leaving some room for manoeuvre, but when he does, he goes out of his way to insist that the outcome must show clear advantage, as often as not financial, to the US.
NATO is moribund. The ANZUS-AUKUS death watchers hope the corpse will revive if we all tiptoe around
There may have been no formal last rites administered for NATO or other treaty arrangements. But the rhetoric and the belligerent and blustering way in which it has been couched, and on both sides of the Atlantic, confirms that the breach is now irreparable. There are those who say Trump has a commercial, not a diplomatic, negotiating style and that some of his demands should be seen merely as opening bids. But if Trump is speaking to an audience and a constituency it has gone well beyond the capacity to stop and say “April Fool”.
These are all things that can be said without taking into account Trump’s extraordinary actions in imposing tariffs on most other countries this week. Some, largely industrialised nations, including Australia, face tariffs of 10% on their manufactured goods and agricultural produce. Some other countries face extraordinary tariffs, in many cases up to 90%. The US appears to have calculated its tariff disadvantage by reference to a fraction of imports divided by exports, which is an entirely impermissible measure, tending to confirm that Trump fundamentally misunderstands what he is doing, and its likely long-term effect on US growth and prosperity. But whether he adjust or negotiates his calculations, it is plain that he is determined to use his system to draw manufacturing back to the US, and to build a large wall around its economy.
The consequences of this may not necessarily involve shutting down all international trade. Just bypassing the US. The rest of the world can form their own trading blocs, mostly based on free-trade zones which trade between each other largely leaving the US out. China, Japan and the Koreas are discussing such an alliance. With Australia as a major supplier of raw materials to these, it could join such a group. Europe, and India, and the nations of Southeast Asia, could also create or strengthen existing trading blocs.
There is no reason to think Australia would automatically expose itself to military, diplomatic or political coercion simply because it has arrangements with an authoritarian regime. For that matter, Australia already has effective trading relationships with all the nations in our region, as well as with Europe, Western Asia and South America. Despite the outworn phrases of Marles about the rules-based order, it is clear that the US no longer follows such a system, and that China has now become a more reliable trading partner.
Here, on this side of the globe, old American allies such as Australia, Japan, South Korea and Singapore wonder whether the face the US is turning to its old NATO allies is the face it means to present to us. Has America repudiated its relationships in its own hemisphere while meaning to maintain them in ours? Some hope the treaties have continuing currency – though there’s not much evidence that the US agrees. Meanwhile, Asian allies think if they keep silent about what is happening, Trump might not notice us or might not notice us as unsatisfactory military partners not contributing enough.
Perhaps if we all hide and, even more, don’t criticise, a day will come when the madness is over, and normal cosy military relationships — including AUKUS — are resumed.
Good luck with that. Our defence, diplomatic and intelligence apparatus have close contacts with their opposite numbers in the US. Many are in constant touch, each side looking for clues and signs of what, if anything, is in the heads of the cabal running Washington. It is apparent that America’s generals do not know and, like old allies, are waiting for clear signs and instructions. In the meantime, they have suspended work on the architecture of alliance relationships, if only to play things safe. It is not a matter of their views or ideals, but of loyalty to the state they have got. And if one can assume that few people outside the inner circle are well informed, it is doubly true of our senior politicians, diplomats or spooks. Close colleagues and good personal friends they might be. But they are all used to being economical with what they say. Particularly when they do not know.
Australia wants continuing world growth and prosperity. Our own growth and prosperity depend upon it. But the US no longer seems to care, intending to put itself behind an economic curtain, reinventing its own comparative advantages, avoiding involvement in international politics and conflict other than when it directly affects its interests. Australia is a major buyer of goods in which the US intends to specialise, such as those for IT and AI. But it is becoming clear that China has made genuine achievements in innovation in the same area, and that America will be unable to maintain a stranglehold over intellectual property or new product development. Nor will the US be able to rely on an old mate’s Act to assume the loyalty of its old markets.
Americans are our friends. The American Government is not our friend. Or ally
Those asking themselves whether they trust the US as an ally, a business partner, or a friendly culture with similar values and free markets are also looking with astonishment at America’s hostility to Canada, its intentions towards Greenland (which necessarily involves its relations with Denmark and Europe) and its coercive diplomacy towards Mexico and Central and South America. Old friends wonder whether Americans still share the same broad values and respect for science and education, for a rational legal system, and for civic values. The Trump administration operates by fiat, rather than a parliament, reinforced by a tame highly politicised judiciary. It is seeking to write down human rights, anti-discrimination laws and schemes promoting diversity and inclusion by executive declaration.
Australians, even of generally conservative disposition (and Brits and Europeans, and even Canadians), want an open society, respect for learning, the rights of minorities and America’s place as a beacon for refugees.
George Carlin once said that, “When fascism comes to America, it will not be in brown and black shirts. It will not be with jackboots. It will be Nike sneakers and Smiley shirts. It will be wrapped in the Stars and Stripes and carrying a Bible.”
The word “fascist” is not always helpful, because the movement, in revival, is to be found everywhere. America’s bigotry, racism, authoritarianism and state terrorism is as American as apple pie. America does not import its bigotries and bad thinking and does not need to exclude it by tariff. It grows its own, the most toxic and contagious of the modern world. If we walk away from them, we will be better people. Experience, for example over vaccination, has demonstrated that we cannot convert them by argument and example. It is time for us to grow up, move out, and establish ourselves in the world.
John Waterford AM, better known as Jack Waterford, is an Australian journalist and commentator.