Energy security needs pipelines, not promises

Few issues are as urgent and as poorly understood as Australia’s energy policy. While we build up renewable energy to replace an ageing and increasingly uneconomic coal fleet, we are more dependent on gas to support the grid. Yet we are at risk of more severe and more frequent gas shortfalls as soon as 2028, and we lack the commitment to investing in a viable long-term solution.

Australia needs to build a national pipeline network to ensure domestic production and supply.

Energy isn’t just another commodity. It’s the invisible infrastructure behind every product we make, every commodity we mine, every service we deliver and every aspiration we hold for continued stability, security and resilience. Energy underpins our current standard of living and future prosperity.

According to analysis by the Grattan Institute, we are at risk of increasing gas shortfalls: 130 days of shortfall in 2025, then 201 in 2026, 266 in 2027, and up to 322 in 2028. All this despite being one of the world’s largest gas producers.

This paradox is driven by extensive exports, domestic price caps and an over-reliance on global maritime supply chains for critical energy imports. As recently discussed in The Strategist, building import terminals for liquified natural gas at locations such as Port Kembla and Geelong is a reactive approach that overlooks the need for long-term resilience. Considering the government’s Future Gas Strategy extends to 2050, Australia needs to invest in sovereign, sustainable and long-term solutions.

Countries with strategic intent don’t just chase export earnings; they build resilience. They use domestic gas supply and national pipeline infrastructure to underwrite economic sovereignty and develop complementary domestic industries. In the United States, for example, shale gas development has transformed global markets while also revitalising domestic manufacturing. It has created jobs and secured affordable energy for households. Closer to home, countries across Asia are investing in energy corridors that ensure both competitiveness and security.

Meanwhile, Australia is doing what it too often does: relying on luck, timing and long-held assumptions that the market will sort it out. It won’t. The convergence of economics, geopolitics and domestic industrial policies too significantly distorts the market for a purely laissez-faire approach.

Australia needs a more strategic approach to energy infrastructure. The consequences of our current reactiveness are real. Industry is slowing. Energy costs are rising. Investment is stalling. As the government signals commitment to gas, it should equally commit to building the backbone of long-term energy security: a national integrated pipeline network connecting Australia’s gas basins to consumers.

Pipelines are important economic enablers. While pipelines currently connect the states and territories, excluding Western Australia, capacity limits hinder the network significantly. It needs upgrading and expanding. Unlike other infrastructure assets, Australia seems content to treat gas as someone else’s problem and is slow to step-in.

The government is often left with problems too difficult for the market to solve on its own; if we don’t incentivise private capital to build pipelines now, the cost will fall on taxpayers later. Opportunity costs of a failure to act lie in lost jobs, declining industry and weakened geopolitical leverage.

The Beetaloo Basin, a vast untapped resource in the Northern Territory, offers a critical opportunity. It is likely to be the lowest cost and lowest emissions source of gas capable of fulfilling Australia’s domestic needs. APA Group is in the first stage of investment in the basin, connecting it to the NT’s gas market. This is a crucial step for energy security in the NT, where approximately 80 percent of power generation relies on natural gas.

Maximising the project’s value requires connecting it to the east-coast market. Domestic gas produced in the north and transported to southern demand centres should deliver significantly lower cost and lower emissions than imported liquified gas, particularly due to the government’s existing price controls.

This isn’t just about resources; it’s about national capability. We can’t have a modern defence industry, a competitive manufacturing base, or even affordable food processing without affordable, reliable energy. Doing nothing is not a neutral position, it’s a choice that leaves us weaker.

To make this vision a reality, the government must provide certain guarantees to attract private capital. Investors need confidence that if they build pipelines, the gas will flow. This means establishing clear, long-term supplier agreements and maintaining stable policy settings to reduce risk and encourage investment.

In late 2024, the Senate Select Committee on Energy Planning and Regulation rightly recommended that the Department of Climate Change, Energy, Environment and Water update the 2019 Strategic Energy Plan. This new plan must be strategic in a real sense: it must recognise Australia’s energy security challenges and the inability to outsource energy production. It must commit to domestic solutions.

National resilience relies on stable energy supply, now and in the future, and it needs pipelines to complement new supply. A national pipeline network aimed at supporting domestic industry and Australian households isn’t just common sense. It’s nation-building.

Pacific island countries need support to address information manipulation

Pacific island countries are being drawn into broader foreign information manipulation and interference efforts by countries such as Russia and China, which want to shape the global narrative in their favour. These operations often aim to create the illusion of widespread international support for authoritarian leaders and their policies. As the United States withdraws its support for efforts countering false information, Australia needs to step up in helping the region build information resilience.

In early May, Solomon Islands’ Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Police, National Security and Correctional Services Karen Galokale publicly denied ever making ‘damning statements’ attributed to her in a pro-Russian online article. The piece, published five months earlier by Moldovan freelance journalist Alex Ivanov, claimed Galokale called Solomon Islands Prime Minister Jeremiah Manele and his coalition ‘weak’. She insists the quotes were untrue.

Verifying Galokale’s claim is difficult. Ivanov has not responded to attempts to contact him. Although his X profile—where he shares links to most of his articles published on Medium—seems like it could be legitimate, there is little public information about his identity or motives and he is not present in any other media. It’s still unclear, but Ivanov is most likely a fabricated individual part of a Russian propaganda campaign.

The article itself had very little to do with the Pacific. Its primary goal appeared to be to reinforce global support for Russian President Vladimir Putin and challenge Western narratives. Galokale was reportedly quoted as saying, ‘During tough times, a government must be strong and it is clear that President Putin is not afraid to make difficult decisions …  to defend Russia from external interference.’ Galokale denies ever making this statement.

Countries such as Russia and China invest significant resources in shaping domestic and international perceptions through information manipulation and narrative control. They previously coordinated on spreading disinformation targeting Solomon Islands. Whether Ivanov is part of a deliberate Russian information operation, or an independent person aligned with pro-Russian narratives propagating anti-Western views (including republishing articles by Russian government-owned outlet RT, formerly Russia Today), the effect is the same: Russia achieves its strategic goals.

One common component of these narrative control efforts is to use purported ‘endorsements’ of Russia or China’s leaders and policies by respected world figures. This attempts to demonstrate their global legitimacy domestically and to foreign partners who seek positive affirmation about their engagements. The credibility of such quotes is often unchecked, and their cumulative impact is to reinforce authoritarian narratives while sowing confusion and division elsewhere. In this case, causing political tension in Solomon Islands was a secondary effect.

The article wasn’t aimed at Solomon Islands, which probably contributed to the five-month delay between publication and the article becoming an issue locally on social media. Few people in Solomon Islands, if any, had probably seen it before last week. And Ivanov’s opinions in general don’t appear to have a huge audience, with some X posts reaching fewer than 100 people. Still, it shows that one unchecked article, even without a large following or platform, can impact another country’s government or public service.

On this occasion, the Solomon Islands government and media should both be congratulated on the maturity of their response. Media organisations held back from reporting on the social media accusations and helped prevent the spread of potentially false information, and Galokale and the Ministry were swift in attempting to set the record straight.

But it’s not always so simple. Previously, false information about political leaders has spread much further before being addressed, leading to calls for the resignation of leaders who have been falsely accused, as happened in Tonga.

We should expect more of this to occur in the Pacific, as it does globally. Whether this article or author is legitimate or not, it’s becoming quite easy to access technology that can quickly create fake accounts and articles at next to no cost. The online information environment is so full of noise that is difficult for the audience to discern the truth. Cuts to funding for activities to counter disinformation will only make it harder to detect and prevent.

For this reason, Australia must enhance its support for the region in this space. Initiatives such as the Pacific media assistance scheme can do a good job teaching media professionals to check sources and avoid false information. However, addressing the full scale of foreign information manipulation online requires a more strategic response. Foreign information manipulation and interference is a serious threat to the region. Individuals in government, security forces and civil society need to understand the methodology used, psychological tactics and strategic purpose of these activities. For that, you need the assistance of national security experts and strategic thinkers. It’s a gap Australia must address before a competing narrative fills the void.

Sri Lanka stalls Starlink over security and sovereignty concerns

Starlink is great for developing countries, offering connectivity without costly infrastructure. But it’s a challenge for their national security, since authorities can’t monitor the traffic it carries.

This policy conflict arose in Sri Lanka in early May, when the government paused rollout of the satellite communications service, blocking one of the few ways to ensure affordable connectivity to remote and vulnerable areas.

Satellite internet can help close significant connectivity gaps across Sri Lanka, especially in remote, underserved and disaster-prone regions where fibre and mobile networks are limited. For a country recovering from conflict and economic crises, affordable and resilient connectivity is essential. But the government’s inability to monitor or intercept traffic through Starlink’s infrastructure has triggered alarm bells. Authorities say the service can’t proceed until security and regulatory frameworks are in place.

While regulatory hurdles for Starlink are increasing, Sri Lanka’s case is distinct. Some countries, including Lesotho and Cambodia, have approved Starlink as part of broader trade negotiations with the United States. In contrast, Sri Lanka independently initiated licensing reforms and has since paused rollout to address legal and security concerns. It’s one of the few small states asserting regulatory sovereignty, rather than accommodating external pressure.

Sri Lanka isn’t alone. India required Starlink to suspend preorders in 2021 until it secured proper licencing. Indonesia approved Starlink in 2024 only after obtaining regulatory assurances. And France revoked Starlink’s licence in 2022 after a court ruled regulators failed to conduct mandatory public consultation.

The licencing delay reflects broader shifts in Sri Lanka’s approach to digital governance. The current administration has placed greater emphasis on regulatory control, particularly when it comes to foreign-operated digital infrastructure. The Online Safety Act, passed in early 2024, created the Online Safety Commission with powers to regulate content and digital platforms. Online service providers, including foreign platforms, must comply with requirements on matters such as disinformation, incitement and national security.

While Starlink isn’t a social media platform, its architecture enables encrypted, high-speed internet access that bypasses local routing and oversight. That conflicts with Sri Lanka’s digital governance agenda, which emphasises legal accountability, interoperability with domestic regulation and alignment with security priorities.

In that sense, the Starlink pause reflects a bigger reckoning over who controls Sri Lanka’s digital infrastructure, and under what rules.

Starlink’s technical promise is clear: with over 6,000 satellites in low Earth orbit, the network can deliver fast, reliable internet to areas often left behind. That makes it attractive to countries such as Sri Lanka, where coverage gaps persist. The satellite internet market is also expanding rapidly with competitors including Amazon’s Project Kuiper and OneWeb preparing to enter the satellite broadband space.

Recognising the potential of satellite networks, former president Ranil Wickremesinghe’s administration met Elon Musk and fast-tracked approvals in 2024. This followed the passage of an updated Telecommunications Bill—the first amendment to the law in 28 years—which introduced new licence categories and explicitly enabled Starlink Lanka to operate as a licensed service provider, pending regulatory approval.

That momentum has stalled under the new government. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake’s administration has raised concerns about Starlink’s limited integration with national infrastructure, restricting lawful government and regulatory oversight.

That lack of oversight is a dealbreaker under current policy settings. As with many countries, Sri Lanka’s regulatory posture is still evolving, but with heightened concerns about extraterritorial digital services, it’s unlikely to make exceptions.

This echoes Sri Lanka’s caution with Huawei’s 5G rollout. Although not banned, Huawei was sidelined after key partners raised espionage concerns. Starlink presents a different risk, as it’s less about foreign surveillance and more about domestic blind spots. But the underlying issue is similar: what happens when critical digital infrastructure lies beyond the reach of the state?

Sri Lanka’s hardline stance comes at a cost. Blocking Starlink might slow digital inclusion, especially in hard-to-reach areas. And while the government has signalled interest in developing its own telecommunications capabilities, infrastructure rollouts take time, and the country is still navigating the tail end of an economic crisis that makes this more aspirational than practical.

A more strategic approach might involve conditional approvals. That could include mandating Starlink to partner with a licensed domestic telecommunications provider, such as Dialog or SLT-Mobitel, to establish in-country gateways or route traffic through national internet exchanges. These measures would comply with Sri Lanka’s regulatory requirements and enable oversight.

The Starlink case should prompt Sri Lanka to clarify its digital infrastructure policy. It will face similar questions over foreign cloud services, cross-border data flows and AI platforms. Setting clear, predictable rules now would help manage future risks and reinforce the country’s ability to safeguard its digital sovereignty.

That may be difficult, but it’s not impossible. Sri Lanka’s Starlink pause is a reminder that political will can ensure foreign digital services—from satellites in orbit or platforms online—adhere to local rules.

Australia must stop overlooking misogynistic youth extremism

Australia’s young people are being radicalised to violence more frequently, more quickly, and for increasingly complicated reasons—including the spread of misogynistic ideology. It’s time we better understand the relationship between misogyny and violent extremism, and the threat it presents to national security.

Blended or hybrid radical ideologies—comprising seemingly separate beliefs—are not new in the world of violent extremism, but they are increasingly impacting younger audiences. The director-general of the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, Mike Burgess, has made clear that youth radicalisation to violence can happen more quickly than previously thought, and identified the need to counter this process as a national priority.

Experts are clear on the role of online spaces in facilitating radicalisation, attributing a wave of youth radicalisation to a network of online communities known as the ‘manosphere’. These communities share overlapping anti-feminist ideologies and misogynistic views. Manosphere content is increasingly expanding from the fringes of society into mainstream culture, owing to social media algorithms that amplify the dissemination of such content. This has exposed more young people—particularly young boys—to extremist misogynistic material, opening the door to radicalisation.

The eSafety Commissioner found that online influencers are instrumental in shaping young males’ identities. In 2022, an Australian survey of over 1,300 young males found that 25 percent viewed so-called ‘manfluencer’ and self-proclaimed misogynist Andrew Tate as a role model.

That same year, the Centre for Countering Digital Hate identified 47 YouTube videos in which Tate shared extreme and violent misogynistic views. Prior to being banned, Tate had more than 11 billion views on TikTok, 4 million X followers and 768,000 YouTube subscribers. Children as young as 13 were found to be engaging with Tate’s content. Tate’s content continues to circulate social media platforms despite his ban.

Misogynistic extremism becomes a national security risk when it radicalises individuals to violence or terrorism.

Prior to a 2023 mass shooting in Allen, Texas, its perpetrator expressed gender-based grievances as a key motive alongside white supremacist and fascist beliefs. Following the attack, public discussion focused on his fascist beliefs, discounting the influence of misogyny on his ideological development and radicalisation.

Similarly, the perpetrator of the 2020 Hanau terrorist attack in Germany displayed a ‘very wild mixture of conspiracy theories, racism and incel ideology’. His manifesto described his sexual frustration and a sense of sexual entitlement to women as his motivation.

Elliot Rodger, perpetrator of the 2014 Isla Vista killings, created videos and wrote a manifesto revealing perceived injustices and sexual deprivation as motivation to ‘punish all females for the crime of depriving [him] of sex’. His attack inspired further acts of misogynistic extremism, including a 2018 shooting in Tallahassee and attacks in Toronto in 2018 and 2020.

Just last month, Owen Lawrence described plans for ‘terrorism, revenge and misogynistic rage’ in a Facebook manifesto before shooting two women dead in Leeds.

Despite the international precedent, Australian law enforcement remains limited in its capacity to recognise violent misogyny as an ideological driver of political violence.

While Australia does not yet have an officially designated case of misogynistic violent extremism, existing cases fit the description.  One such case is Matthew Sean Donaldson’s brutal 2021 attack against a female sex worker in Sydney. Prior to the attack, Donaldson read nine articles online about women being murdered, and had written a list of tasks that included ‘practice kill’ and ‘just do it’. He also exhibited misogynistic attitudes towards his victim’s occupation, texting her after the attack that she ‘should have picked a different career’.

Seemingly, NSW Police did not consider Donaldson’s violent misogynistic political beliefs to be a motivating factor for his attack, as he was sentenced only for attempted murder. They did not deem the attack to be politically motivated, nor did they label it a hate crime.

As more young people are exposed to violent misogyny, Australia needs a targeted policy response to better mitigate the threat. The government should establish a national framework aimed at deterring young people from extremist ideologies, including misogyny.

Some agencies, such as ASIO and the Office of the eSafety Commissioner, have already acknowledged the link between misogyny and violent extremism. Remaining departments should follow suit. A whole-of-government approach should encourage whole-of-society awareness.

The government has already committed to strengthening its threat communication through its ‘A Safer Australia’ strategy. It can use this strategy to inform the broader population on the potential for misogyny to evolve into violent extremism.

Social media platforms must also be held accountable for popularising manosphere content. A study by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue revealed that YouTube’s algorithms recommended content containing ‘overtly misogynist and manosphere messages’ to young Australian males, even though they had never consumed such content.

Government-supported programs aimed at countering violent extremism should be informed by research on misogyny, radicalisation and its intersection with violent extremism. Practitioners should be trained in managing violent misogynistic behaviour and seek to provide role models for those who need them.

Organisations such as The Man Cave provide young men with positive male role models and accessible mental health resources. As manosphere content grows in popularity, we should provide further resourcing to these initiatives supporting young men.

AUKUS and deterrence: what, exactly, are we trying to deter?

AUKUS is one of the most ambitious allied defence undertakings in decades. But for all the high-end platforms and advanced capabilities it promises, a fundamental question remains underexplored: what, exactly, is AUKUS seeking to deter?

This question matters—not just as a theoretical exercise, but as a strategic imperative that will shape the effectiveness, and ultimate success, of the AUKUS enterprise.

The behaviour set that we want to deter is not self-evident. AUKUS has often been described as a way to ‘complicate Beijing’s decision-making calculus’ and ensure that President Xi Jinping wakes up every morning and says, ‘not today.’ Australia’s 2024 National Defence Strategy (NDS) establishes a strategy of denial as the cornerstone of defence planning, but this broad ambition lacks the precision needed to guide investment, prioritise technologies and convey clear thresholds of unacceptable behaviour to adversaries. If we are serious about generating credible deterrent effects, we must first clarify which behaviours we want to stop.

This is where definition of a behaviour set becomes critical. AUKUS partners must decide which specific behaviours they want to deter—whether they’re cyberattacks on critical infrastructure, attempts to blockade Taiwan, deployment of maritime militias in disputed waters or transfer of sensitive military technology to proxy actors. This clarity is not only foundational to aligning threat perceptions and deterrence priorities among the three nations; it is essential to guide the development of capabilities under AUKUS Pillar One (nuclear submarines) and, more urgently, under Pillar Two (other technologies).

This is not an argument against the enterprise; it is an argument for sharpening its purpose.

When AUKUS was announced in 2021, public attention fixated on Australia’s future fleet of conventionally armed, nuclear-powered submarines. That debate, often reduced to cost comparisons with diesel-electric submarines, missed the broader strategic purpose. Nuclear attack submarines provide greater range, stealth, speed and endurance, allowing them to operate far from Australia’s shores and to remain undetected in contested environments. They are instruments of deterrence that complicate an adversary’s risk calculus.

But the deterrent value of AUKUS does not reside solely in the eventual arrival of nuclear submarines. AUKUS generates deterrent effects along the way. Forward rotational deployment of US and British nuclear-powered submarines to Western Australia increases allied presence in the Indo-Pacific, strengthens joint operations and disperses assets in ways that make them harder to track and target. These actions signal resolve and contribute to deterrence immediately.

AUKUS is also laying the groundwork for fundamental realignment of the partners’ defence industrial bases. Reforms are being implemented to remove barriers to innovation, streamline information-sharing, and create the conditions for joint research, development and production. These efforts are about creating an enabling environment where advanced capabilities can be fielded quickly and used to impose costs on potential aggressors.

This enabling environment is particularly relevant to Pillar Two of AUKUS, which encompasses advanced military technologies, including quantum systems, AI, autonomous vehicles, cyber tools, hypersonics and electronic warfare. These technologies offer asymmetric advantages and can be deployed rapidly. But their effectiveness as tools of deterrence depends on one thing: knowing what behaviours they are meant to deter.

The central risk is that without a clearly defined deterrence objective, Pillar Two efforts could become diffuse, driven more by what is technologically feasible than by what is strategically necessary. Technological capability alone is not enough. It must be linked to purpose. Strategic clarity will help identify demand signals, focus innovation and guide experimentation—because deterrence is about sending signals, and ambiguity works only if adversaries have something clear to fear miscalculating against.

AUKUS was never meant to be business as usual. It is intended to be a blueprint for allied defence industrial cooperation. For this to succeed, the private sector must be brought in as a full partner. That requires clarity from government, including on what specific adversary behaviours the partnership is trying to deter. Industry needs to know where it should focus resources.

At its core, AUKUS is about delivering strategic effects. It seeks to align political, bureaucratic, economic, technological and military ecosystems across three nations to respond to a shared systemic pacing threat posed by China. But delivering effects requires more than intent. It demands cohesion. It requires a shared understanding of how individual investments and actions combine to influence adversary decision-making.

AUKUS has rightly been framed as a long-term bet on peace through strength. But strength without strategic focus risks becoming blunt. And in a world where rivals are moving fast and shaping the strategic environment, AUKUS must do the same—with purpose, focus, and a firm grasp of what exactly it is trying to stop.

Chinese pressure is a part of Solomon Islands’ politics. Other Pacific countries should take note

The Chinese embassy in Solomon Islands has reportedly pressured newly appointed Minister of Rural Development Daniel Waneoroa to quit an international group that challenges China’s authoritarian regime. This incident highlights Beijing’s increased tendency to pressure foreign elites, despite rhetoric around non-interference in domestic affairs. Pacific leaders and their foreign partners should be watching.

Waneoroa said he made the decision to resign from the Inter-Parliamentary Alliance on China (IPAC) last week ‘in the interest of fostering stability and aligning with a collective national vision’. That national vision is likely one that strongly adheres to the ‘One-China principle’ in exchange for financial benefits from Beijing.

Waneoroa’s decision should not reflect poorly on him as a politician or a leader. He was brave enough to be part of a group that many others wouldn’t join, despite potential personal beliefs; he is now choosing to be part of the governing coalition for domestic stability and economic opportunities.

Instead, this affair should highlight the depth of Chinese influence in Pacific politics and an increasing trend of self-censorship by countries when it comes to China.

IPAC aims to unite global lawmakers to promote democracy and address the threats China’s rise poses to human rights and the rules-based system. Individuals from more than 40 countries are part of the alliance, including more than 20 Australian parliamentarians from both major parties after the 2022 election. After Waneoroa’s resignation, opposition member Peter Kenilorea Jr is the only representative from Solomon Islands listed on IPAC’s website.

IPAC’s partners are mostly Taiwanese and US institutions, so membership is a highly sensitive issue for Beijing, which views it and similar pro-democracy groupings as tools of US foreign policy. Kenilorea Jr reportedly said that Waneoroa ‘had been pressured by the Chinese embassy here in Solomon Islands to quit IPAC for some time now.’ But Waneoroa’s actual decision point was his appointment as a minister in the governing coalition.

In April, several ministers resigned from Prime Minister Jeremiah Manele’s Government for National Unity and Transformation (GNUT) coalition and joined the opposition in a looming motion of no confidence. Manele worked quickly to stave off the motion—which was ultimately withdrawn—by coaxing Waneoroa and others into the GNUT with offers of better positions. It was a savvy move seen many times before in Pacific politics. The remaining point of contention was Waneoroa’s IPAC ties.

Once the dust had settled, Waneoroa had little choice but to align himself fully with GNUT’s position. Ministers are highly replaceable in the Solomon Islands system and the coalition is large enough to survive losing one uncooperative member. So, Waneoroa made the decision to cut ties with IPAC, allowing him to keep his government position and deliver more for his own constituents in North Malaita. Even without direct pressure from the Chinese embassy, there are logical reasons for Waneoroa’s decision that prioritise domestic politics and stability over his broader international affiliations. Again, Waneoroa shouldn’t be blamed for his decision when the problem of political pressure is built into the system.

With so much dependence on and desire for Chinese funding and support, countries such as Solomon Islands are in a tough position, and government members have little choice but to toe the line. We can expect Waneoroa to now align with the GNUT and Manele’s stance on all China issues going forward. Publicly opposing that position would only generate internal tensions and potentially additional harassment and pressure from China.

Other Pacific leaders have spoken about attempts by Chinese officials to harass, bribe and undermine them, including former president of the Federated States of Micronesia David Panuelo, who said Chinese officials had directly threatened his personal safety. Self-censorship on issues likely to trigger Beijing is a rational choice for local politicians who are trying to represent their constituents’ best interests. But cumulatively, such decisions narrow the space for domestic political debate.

The attraction of China’s partnership has been financial support with no strings attached. But leaders need to start thinking about what the real cost is in terms of free speech and affiliation. It may seem easy and harmless to make a statement in support of the ‘One-China principle’, but how far can China push those statements? Clearly it leads to a change in behaviour in politicians, whether the pressure comes directly from China or from peers. Pacific media outlets also face pressure from Chinese embassies, which has led to greater self-censorship and less transparent reporting on Chinese activities in their countries.

For Solomon Islands, all eyes will be on any efforts to disrupt Taiwan’s participation in the Pacific Islands Forum Leaders Meeting in early September. It’s unlikely Taiwan will be shut out completely, but we may well see the next stage of Chinese pressure on the political elite, upsetting the region’s core institution.

India-Pakistan crisis: military operations intensify before ceasefire

The past 36 hours on the India-Pakistan front have been tumultuous. Where the confrontation is headed is unclear.

Although things seemed to be calming down early on Friday, May 9, intense developments followed. A series of attacks occurred on Friday and Saturday, though their sequence is difficult to disentangle. Then Donald Trump on Saturday announced a ceasefire that took effect at 5pm Indian time on that day.

Before it did, escalating attacks by both sides had targeted civilian and military sites. Pakistani aircraft and drone attacks had spread from Kashmir as far south as Gujarat. Most attacks have been closer to the border, by artillery and short-range drones. The most intense seem to have come in the Kashmir region in Jammu, though Indian officials named around 26 locations that had been targeted.

The ceasefire has reportedly been violated. As of this writing on Sunday morning, both sides appear to be re-establishing it. Whether this will lead to further talks on any substantive issue is unclear. Though the US Secretary of State Marco Rubio suggested this might happen, India has ruled out more substantive talks, at least for the time being.

Casualties do not appear to have been heavy. A senior official of the Jammu and Kashmir state was killed in his home in Jammu, but there is no reason to think he was specifically targeted.

There is some confusion about a series of attacks on Amritsar, a city in the Indian Punjab that is the centre of the Sikh religion. A very late-night Pakistani military briefing on Thursday suggested that several ballistic missile attacks had hit Amritsar, but no more has been heard of this.

The most serious Pakistani attack was by a Fateh-1 missile that seems either to have targeted an Indian air force base in Sirsa, near Delhi, or to have targeted Delhi and, as social media posts suggest, been intercepted at Sirsa. If it was fired at Sirsa, the reason for attacking just one Indian air base is unclear.

Though the sequence remains uncertain, India also launched a series of attacks on Pakistani air bases, including Rafiqui, Murid, Chaklala and Rahim Yar Khan. Most notably, another was Nur Khan air base, outside Islamabad. Hitting it may have been intended not to achieve an operational effect but to send a signal to the Pakistani high command. Combat aircraft are not thought to have been at this base. It is used mainly for transportation, including for government officials.

Two other air bases that India targeted are thought to be those of Pakistan’s China-built fighters. Since the fighting began, Pakistan has said it has shot down five Indian aircraft, including three Dassault Rafale fighters from France. US officials have told Reuters that a China-built Chengdu J-10 fighter shot down at least two Indian aircraft on the night of May 7, of which at least one was a Rafale. India has acknowledged no aircraft losses.

Much later on Friday, there were reports that India had attacked Pakistan’s Sargodha air base complex. Pakistan is thought to store nuclear weapons at Sargodha.

Because we don’t know which attacks followed which, we cannot say which, if any, was a retaliation for another. Second, we do not know how exactly they were carried out. Some presumably used missiles or drones, because there is no indication that combat aircraft on either side have crossed the border to make attacks. Even air-to-air firing could conceivably have occurred from one side of the border to the other.

Third, there is considerable confusion about some attacks, particularly on the Sirsa and Nur Khan air bases.

As well as pilots apparently keeping on their own sides of the border, there is no indication of involvement by ground forces except for firing across the border and the Line of Control in Kashmir. No involvement by naval forces is evident.

But the intensity of attacks in the day before the ceasefire was far greater than anybody had expected, especially as the situation seemed to have been winding down on Thursday.

Fighting was sufficiently serious to prompt a global reaction. The G7 countries put out a joint statement calling for de-escalation, and few hours later, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio called the chief of staff of the Pakistan Army, General Asim Munir, and Indian External Affairs Minister S Jaishankar.

Before Rubio acted, the US had indicated that it would not intervene, with Vice President JD Vance saying that the India-Pakistan confrontation was ‘fundamentally none of our business.’

There are also reports that Saudi Foreign Minister Prince Faisal bin Farhan has talked to the Indian and Pakistani foreign ministers. China has also urged restraint on both sides.

Where the situation will move from here is unclear—especially whether the ceasefire will hold. Not just two countries are involved; there are also non-state terror groups on Pakistan’s side of the border.

But neither India nor Pakistan wants to antagonise Trump. That will encourage them to move cautiously.

Huawei drives and dominates Thailand’s digital ascent

Thailand’s rapid ascent as a 5G leader in Southeast Asia has, in part, been powered by Huawei. While many Western nations excluded Huawei from their 5G rollout over security concerns, Thailand—like several regional neighbours—embraced the technology giant to enable its digital transformation. Yet this decision hinders Thailand’s ‘bamboo strategy’—maintaining the strength and flexibility to adapt to shifting international dynamics—and carries significant long-term security implications.

Huawei’s cost-effective solutions and deployment speed made it the preferred choice for major telecommunications operators AIS and True Corp, especially as they rolled out 5G to 158 hospitals during the Covid-19 pandemic, boosting connectivity for healthcare and digital business. Huawei cemented its dominant position by aligning its offerings with government priorities and expanding local capacity.

But this dominance risks vendor lock-in, stifling competition and innovation, making it harder for local or alternative providers to gain a foothold. This also reduces Thailand’s ability to negotiate better deals or diversify suppliers in the future. Over time, such dependency could undermine Thailand’s digital sovereignty and bargaining power, particularly as the technology and geopolitical landscapes shift.

Huawei has also embedded itself in Thailand’s digital infrastructure, operating three data centres, integrating with government cloud services and partnering in projects such as the Laem Chabang 5G Port and national rail systems. While these partnerships drive efficiency, they also create dependencies. As geopolitical tensions rise, Thailand could find itself exposed to vulnerabilities, especially if foreign technology becomes the target of sanctions or cyber operations.

Huawei’s reach extends to national projects, including fibre broadband infrastructure, smart hospitals, factories and e-government services. Through partnerships with the Office of the Eastern Economic Corridor and the National Broadcasting and Telecommunications Commission, these initiatives support Thailand’s ambition to become ASEAN’s digital hub. Simultaneously, it increases the risks of systemic disruption if bilateral relations deteriorate or technology supply chains are compromised. The growing complexity of digital supply chains, and the risk of shutdown or system compromise—whether from US or Chinese technology—cannot be ignored.

Huawei has reinforced its influence within Thailand’s digital governance through capacity building. It has trained around 96,000 government officials, tech professionals and students. These efforts have earned it high-level recognition, including awards from the prime minister and the royal family. While increasing Thailand’s workforce readiness, Huawei has entrenched its soft power, making future diversification or regulatory oversight more difficult.

Given its developmental imperatives, Thailand prioritises benefits such as cost-effectiveness, coverage and deployment speed over geopolitical concerns. Huawei’s competitive pricing and its unmatched investments strongly influence the vendor choices of Thai telecommunications operators. Although some operators are trying to diversify their vendors, affordability and speed favour Huawei.

Prioritising cost and speed over long-term resilience may deliver short-term gains but erodes Thailand’s ability to negotiate or pivot as circumstances change. Currently, Thailand can still negotiate better terms and build in safeguards for the future.

The government acknowledges the risks of monopolisation, with former minister Pichet Durongkaveroj stating that working with Huawei doesn’t mean neglecting security, citing efforts to strengthen cybersecurity due diligence. Huawei’s track record in the region remains relatively clean compared to competitors such as Ericsson, which faced corruption scandals in Vietnam, Indonesia and China. But the absence of major security incidents so far does not guarantee future safety.

Veteran diplomat Sihasak Phuangketkeow noted that Huawei’s success in Thailand stems from the need for rapid 5G development and economic pragmatism. However, the dominance of Chinese supply chains should not preclude Thailand from seeking better deals or building safeguards to protect its digital future.

Some industry practitioners estimate that Huawei now dominates around 70 percent of the market. This dominance limits future upgrade options, including the transition to 6G. Crucially, the foundation laid by 5G does not have to dictate 6G choices. Open standards such as Open RAN could allow Thailand to keep its options open and avoid repeating current dependencies—a point that should be emphasised as the country plans its telecommunications future.

Such risks extend beyond wireless networks to other critical infrastructure, including subsea cables, where interoperability becomes a major issue if Southeast Asian countries want to connect seamlessly with Western partners. Southeast Asia faces difficult choices due to bifurcation of the market, as well as US efforts to dissuade partners from engaging China in undersea cable projects. If Thailand doesn’t diversify its vendor base, this growing divide could leave the country isolated from certain global networks.

The challenge for Thailand will be balancing rapid 5G and 6G deployment with long-term security. This requires regional strategies, robust financing and partnerships that align with Thailand’s goals, while mitigating the risks of overdependence.  Understandably, this is complicated by the lack of viable alternatives to Huawei and the absence of unified strategies comparable to China’s Belt and Road Initiative.

The push for competition and diversification is not just about security; it’s about ensuring Thailand can negotiate, innovate and adapt. Until such measures are in place, Huawei is likely to remain Thailand’s prime partner, at a growing cost to its strategic autonomy and future bargaining power.

Sri Lanka holds its own amid economic uncertainty

In recent months, Colombo has faced two sharp blows from its Western partners. First was the surprise cut to USAID funding, amounting to approximately US$53 million. Then came a 44 percent tariff on apparel exports to the United States—Sri Lanka’s largest export market. Both moves came without warning and show the US not separating friends from foes, damaging the bilateral relationship and the US’s reputation.

Sri Lanka is discovering that even its most trusted partners can act unpredictably when domestic politics take precedence. Its experience with opaque Chinese loans was one kind of risk, but the recent moves by its democratic partners are another.

As Sri Lanka absorbs the shock of steep new tariffs, the US has carved out exemptions for certain Chinese electronics, highlighting how trade decisions are often shaped more by domestic cost concerns than by supporting partners. This sends a troubling message. The US urges countries, including Sri Lanka, to reduce their dependence on China but then withdraws its support and imposes trade barriers. If Washington wants alignment in the Indo-Pacific, it must act like a consistent partner, not an erratic one.

To its credit, Sri Lanka is not passively absorbing the fallout. Since the 2022 economic crisis, the government has moved to diversify partnerships and reset foreign policy. The current administration, elected in late 2024, has taken a more pragmatic and reform-oriented approach to diplomacy. For example, Sri Lanka and Thailand recently signed a free trade agreement. Colombo has also signalled its intent to join the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership and has deepened ties with India, Japan and the Middle East.

These moves follow a broader recalibration that began after years of dependency on China for post-war infrastructure financing, a relationship that eventually triggered a debt crisis. Colombo has since completed important debt restructuring, restored modest growth and brought inflation under control.

Crucially, it is doing this while maintaining a non-aligned posture. Sri Lankan President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has reiterated that Sri Lanka is ‘not pro-Indian or pro-Chinese’ but firmly focused on protecting its own interests. That philosophy has translated into action. Colombo has paused military visits from Chinese research vessels to ease Indian concerns while still welcoming Beijing’s investment in more commercially viable, equity-based projects. The government is now prioritising transparency and risk mitigation over opaque mega-deals.

India, meanwhile, is expanding its presence with its own strategic interests in mind. For example, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to Colombo in April brought renewed momentum to the long-stalled Trincomalee energy hub.

India is also backing a 120-megawatt solar power plant in Sampur, on a site once offered to a Chinese-backed coal venture that was later shelved due to environmental and strategic pushback. This clearly shows a shift in the energy landscape that Australia should consider, given its pursuit of solar power almost entirely relies on China.

Sri Lanka-India defence ties are deepening too, through joint patrols, training and Sri Lanka’s participation in the Colombo Security Conclave.

These developments don’t mean Sri Lanka is decoupling from Beijing. China remains a key creditor and infrastructure partner, though its role is evolving. Due to its experiences with the Belt and Road Initiative and Hambantota port, Colombo realises it cannot depend only on China. And Beijing is now favouring smaller, commercially viable projects and equity-based investments over the debt-heavy megaprojects of the past, in part because of public and private criticism.

Crucially, India is a close neighbour and a bridge to other Indo-Pacific powers. The US remains relevant, but its recent unpredictability—cutting aid, raising tariffs and exempting China—is eroding trust.

What’s different this time is that Sri Lanka isn’t just reacting. It’s acting. The government is rolling out institutional reforms, including anti-corruption efforts in the customs department and pledges to repeal the Prevention of Terrorism Act. These steps are essential not just for domestic credibility but for reassuring partners that Sri Lanka is a stable, safe and reliable state. Progress is mixed, but Colombo’s intent is clearer than it has been in years.

Still, structural vulnerabilities remain. The global economy is heading into rougher waters. US President Donald Trump’s sweeping ‘reciprocal tariff’ policy could further squeeze Sri Lanka’s exports. Colombo is especially exposed as it has no free trade agreement or privileged access under the generalised system of preferences. Tourism is recovering, but any trade slowdown in the West could hit remittances and export earnings hard.

That makes diplomatic agility more important than ever. Sri Lanka must continue building economic resilience through diversification, value-added exports and deeper South-South cooperation. It should also court middle and regional powers—including Japan, South Korea and Gulf states—who offer investment without great-power entanglements.

For Washington, the message should be equally clear: if nations such as Sri Lanka are being pushed towards China, your policy settings probably aren’t right. Development aid, trade access and political consistency are not just tools of influence; they are measures of partnership. If the US wants to remain a credible actor in the region, it must demonstrate reliability and respect for countries navigating complex geopolitical terrain. For Colombo, due diligence is vital, regardless of the partner. That means holding all partners to the same standard.

India and Pakistan must manage escalation after Pahalgam attack

India has launched a retaliatory strike against the Pakistan-based groups responsible for a terrorist attack in Indian Kashmir two weeks ago.

The Indian government released a press statement announcing that the armed forces had launched Operation Sindoor in the early hours of 7 May. The operation targeted terrorist infrastructure in Pakistan and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir. According to the Indian government, nine terrorist sites were hit.

The government also noted that it has engaged in a ‘focused, measured and non-escalatory’ manner to ensure that the strikes were controlled. The statement also outlined that India exercised ‘considerable restraint in selection of targets and method of execution’ and didn’t target any Pakistani military facilities.

After the strikes, India briefed the US, British, United Arab Emirates and Russian governments.

The strikes were retaliation for a terrorist attack in Pahalgam, Indian Kashmir, in which 25 Indians and one Nepali civilian were killed. Previous major terrorist attacks in Kashmir in 2016 and 2019 targeted Indian security forces. The Pahalgam attack, however, specifically targeted civilians, resulting in widespread anger in India and leading the government to respond.

According to initial reports, the Pahalgam terror attack was carried out by the relatively unknown Kashmir Resistance Front, which India maintains is a proxy for the better-known Pakistan-backed terrorist group, Lashkar-e-Taiba. While it is unclear which group was responsible, the fact that it was a Pakistan-based group—with extensive support from Pakistan military—is undisputed.

This is not the first time that India and Pakistan have engaged in such clashes. In the past decade, India has suffered two major terrorist attacks resulting in retaliatory strikes against Pakistan. For a long time, India has struggled to develop an effective response to Pakistan’s use of cross-border terrorism as a state policy. Such attacks are clearly designed to keep India off-balance, but India’s response has also slowly become harsher.

Traditionally, India hasn’t responded with military force. The December 2001 terrorist attack on the Indian parliament in New Delhi led to a military mobilisation, but no clashes. In 2008, the Indian government ruled out any military response to the terrorist attack on Mumbai. But the September 2016 Uri terrorist attack, which targeted an Indian army infantry base and killed 18 Indian soldiers, led to a change in India’s response. This attack came in the wake of another major terror attack in January 2016 on the Indian air force base in Pathankot. After two major strikes, the Indian leadership was presented with a dilemma, and it responded with what was called a ‘surgical strike’—a commando attack—on Pakistani terror hideouts.

In 2019, India suffered another major terrorist attack in Pulwama, killing dozens of Central Reserve Police Force personnel. This showed Pakistan escalating the strikes, not only in scale; it was also an escalation in messaging, considering the bold, open claim by Jaish-e-Mohammed, a Pakistan-based terrorist group, that it carried out the terror strikes. Worried that its 2016 surgical strikes didn’t have the necessary deterrence effect, India escalated, launching air strikes on a terrorist base in Balakot, Pakistan. This was the first time that Indian combat planes had attacked Pakistani territory since the 1971 India-Pakistan war.

This radical shift was the result of India’s conclusion that non-military measures were having no effect on Pakistan. India had previously responded to terrorist attacks with diplomatic punishment, including curtailing talks or limiting diplomatic interaction with Pakistan. In addition, New Delhi usually sought international diplomatic pressure to constrain Pakistan. Such policy measures failed to change Pakistan’s policy on state-sponsored terrorism. India’s lack of effective and forceful options led Pakistan to dangerously misread India’s possible responses.

Now that India has carried out retaliatory strikes on Pakistan, there is a strong likelihood that Pakistan will respond in some limited fashion to satisfy its domestic constituency. But it is highly unlikely that the two sides will intentionally escalate the current crisis to a prolonged series of clashes.

Though both states are nuclear-armed powers, nuclear weapons are unlikely to play any direct role in these clashes. Nevertheless, given their proximity to one another, one cannot rule out escalation dynamics. Pakistan will likely try to leverage this, invoking such scenarios to put international diplomatic pressure on India. This may have worked in previous conflicts, but as tensions heighten globally, foreign powers are unlikely to be as invested in talking the two sides down.