Tag Archive for: FONOPs

China’s strategic perspective on the South China Sea

In many ways, the American label of ‘great wall of sand’ that was applied to the artificial islands in the South China Sea encapsulates a key element of Chinese thinking. The same desire to protect China from external threats that produced the terrestrial Great Wall has been extended into the South China Sea. It’s significant that a Chinese senior officer once expressed surprise at the American label of ‘anti-access/area denial’ for China’s maritime strategy and remarked that the Chinese called what they were doing ‘coastal defence’.

By creating facilities such as artificial islands in the South China Sea, China has effectively pushed out its defensive perimeter to the edge of the first island chain and beyond, at least to the south and southeast. The artificial islands can act as surveillance platforms, as nodes for area surveillance systems (particularly underwater arrays) and as forward operating bases for reconnaissance and strike aircraft and naval surface combatants. They can also house offensive and defensive missile systems. China’s facilities have probably already reached a level of capability that means no outside combatant which enters the South China Sea, however covertly, can be completely confident it’s not being tracked.

China, however, must now balance its continental concerns, which remain complex, against its new dependence on the maritime domain. It will always have an eye on the need to protect itself against attack from the sea, but there’s much more to China’s vulnerability than potential invasion or bombardment. Most of China’s global trade is seaborne. And it is critically dependent on the seaborne import of raw materials, notably energy, from Middle Eastern oil to liquefied natural gas. China’s global engagement also requires regard for the safety of its nationals in unstable regions as well as protection of its investments. None of this is new to the major maritime powers of the past few hundred years, but it is new to China.

It’s no surprise that Chinese naval strategists have been looking hard at the work of the navalist Alfred Thayer Mahan. He is famed for analysing sea power’s contribution to Britain’s global dominance. But he was interested in not only how an island nation such as Britain succeeded in this element, but why its greatest rival, France, did not. France, a continental as well as a maritime power, had to balance its efforts between land and sea in a way that Britain did not. Mahan’s motivation (as arguably one of the first geostrategists) was to persuade the United States, hitherto a largely continental power with continental preoccupations, to turn to the sea at the end of the 19th century.

France’s example is important because China’s strategic planners must ride the two horses of continental defence and protection of maritime interests. In the maritime domain, this is reflected in the parallel efforts to develop a force structure that is capable both of preventing enemy forces from approaching China by sea and of conducting classical sea control and power projection across the wider region.

Artificial island building in the South China Sea is an example of China riding the two horses. It reflects both continentalist and maritime thinking. There are multiple motivations in military terms, such as the creation of deep-water ‘bastions’ for nuclear ballistic-missile submarines and the desire to make the sea a no-go zone for potential adversaries in a high-intensity conflict. But the facilities will also make it easier for China to project its maritime power further afield and to protect its legitimate maritime interests.

If the resources continue to flow, expansion of distant-water capabilities will continue. But, even if China’s economy falters, the People’s Liberation Army Navy will still aim to spearhead China’s defensive ambitions, in conjunction with other arms of the PLA, such as the air force and the rocket force. Emergent technology, not only in anti-ship cruise and ballistic missiles, but in the form of unmanned surveillance and attack vehicles, will be a key element of this effort, as will long-range and space-based sensors. The South China Sea is tied up in all of this.

The danger is that continentalists who genuinely regard the new installations as being a ‘great wall at sea’ are making the mistake of regarding the waters that lie between them and the mainland as Chinese territory. That error is being exacerbated by other factors, particularly the way in which the South China Sea has become so critical to China’s nationalist narrative and its ideas of reunifying a supposed ideal Chinese nation-state on equally supposed ideal historical boundaries. There is, in other words, an emotional element as well as one of understanding.

But there’s no doubt, to put it at its most basic, that many decision-makers in Beijing look at the blue bits on the map in the same way as they do the green ones—they fail to recognise that there are differences between the two and just what those differences mean.

If the assumption that the South China Sea is China’s ‘blue land’ is taken to its logical conclusion by attempting to eject other nations from commercial or military operations within the area encompassed by the ‘nine-dash line’, the consequences for China’s relationship with the other states bounding the South China Sea will be disastrous, however strong China’s historic claims to its features may be. It will also have profound implications for the way that China is regarded in the wider region and globally.

The truth is, in military terms, this step is unnecessary. A rational Chinese military strategy that understands the differences between continental and maritime should be pursued, but it’s not necessarily being pursued.

The military intent of achieving a much greater level of awareness across the sea by setting up the artificial islands as surveillance platforms and bases for surface and air assets is well on its way to achievement. In a high-intensity conflict, the ‘unsinkable aircraft carriers’ may well become immovable targets.

But their utility in a wide range of contingencies, as forward bases for long-range operations and as very public statements of China’s growing power is undeniable. China should be very happy with what it has achieved and should now think hard about how it can appease the other littoral states.

This is not the only case in which China’s maritime thinkers face the challenge of developing within the national policymaking elite an understanding of just how different the sea is from the land, but it is probably the most important.

Freedom-of-navigation operations aren’t all about the South China Sea

The recent close encounter between USS Decatur and the Chinese Luyang II–class guided-missile destroyer Lanzhou has attracted much attention in the media. There’s little doubt that the Chinese ship created a dangerous situation in breach of the Convention on the International Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea, which requires a vessel that’s overtaking another to keep out of its way until ‘finally past and clear’.

For a 7,000-tonne displacement ship to pass within 45 yards of another of 8,000 tonnes—an allegation apparently confirmed by the still video footage leaked by a US source—in such circumstances was also in contravention of the Code for Unplanned Encounters at Sea, which enjoins warship captains to act with prudence. Both China and the United States are signatories to this admittedly ‘voluntary and non-binding’ agreement.

But it’s possible to make too much of the incident. First, there have been much more serious encounters with Soviet units in the past—and close calls continue with Russian vessels. In 1988, the Soviet frigate Bezzavetny deliberately collided side-by-side with the American cruiser Yorktown in the Black Sea (an act known as ‘graunching’ or ‘shouldering off’). The destroyer Caron, in company with the Yorktown, was shouldered by a smaller Mirka-class corvette. The two American ships were conducting the same type of FONOPS as the Decatur in 2018—asserting their right to innocent passage through territorial waters without prior notification.

Second, contemporary FONOPS are not only about China. The most recent annual report by the US Department of Defense shows that the US Navy conducted such operations against 22 nations during 2017. These include countries as diverse as Slovenia and Oman, as well as Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan and Vietnam. In the past, even Sweden has been challenged on its prior notification requirement.

America’s FONOPS are not a comment on the validity of China’s claims (or any other nation’s claims) to islands or rocks in the South China Sea, but they do show the US position (shared by numerous other governments, including Australia’s) that artificial islands don’t generate territorial entitlements. The US Navy’s operations were initially focused on the American interpretation of the Convention on the Law of the Sea that warships aren’t required to give prior notification when conducting innocent passage through another nation’s territorial seas. China is of the view that such notification is required.

More recently, FONOPS in the Spratly Islands have been extended to include demonstrations of the US view that artificial islands built over features which don’t ‘dry’ at high water—that is, aren’t above the surface—do not generate a territorial sea of 12 nautical miles, but only a safety zone of 500 metres.

By passing both Gaven and Johnson reefs, USS Decatur dealt with both situations. Gaven Reef didn’t dry at high water before its artificial island was built; South Johnson did. But in stating that the Decatur passed by Johnson Reef, the US Navy didn’t specify whether the FONOP had been confined to South Johnson Reef. Vietnam has an outpost on North Johnson Reef and has been the subject of previous American operations for the same reason as China—to deny the claim that prior notification is required for innocent passage.

Furthermore, the US isn’t the only nation to conduct FONOPS in the area. The British amphibious ship Albion recently conducted an operation near the Paracel Islands, most likely to deny the excessive baselines that the Chinese have drawn around the group. The French haven’t been forthcoming about whether their frigate, the Vendémiaire, conducted a FONOP in the South China Sea early in 2018, but they didn’t deny it.

Yet FONOPS are not the real concern. Despite much rhetoric about sea lines of communication, the problem isn’t about merchant shipping. Although the ‘iron highway’ that passes through the sea is one of the world’s most important shipping routes, it lies well away from the Spratly Islands. China, as one of the nations most dependent on the passage of shipping through the region, has no possible interest in its interruption. In this regard, China’s constant claims that commercial shipping has never been and will not be impeded can be accepted at face valuein the absence of knowledge of any intent about future Chinese state behaviour that shows otherwise, short of major conflict.

The real issue is military dominance of the sea. China’s artificial island building—along with its other works in the Paracel Islands, the progressive development of base facilities and sensors, and the increasing levels of naval and air activity—suggest that China aims to control the South China Sea as a whole. The motivation for this may include long-term plans to use the deep-water areas to the north of the Spratlys as a bastion for ballistic-missile submarines. There’s certainly also an element of ‘Great Wall’ thinking involved, which may derive from China’s still land-centric, continentalist strategic culture.

How much further China wants to go is now the key question. Beijing’s constant challenging of the presence of foreign military units in the South China Sea suggests that it would like to prohibit any external presence. It has recently embarked on a diplomatic campaign to reassure ASEAN of its peaceful intentions. This has included a renewed enthusiasm for the long-delayed code of conduct for the South China Sea. Significantly, however, China has proposed a provision in the draft code that would prohibit any littoral state from conducting naval and air exercises with non-regional powers without the consent of the other signatory nations. The implied message is clear.

As to the response, it can only be through the continued presence of Australian and other nations’ forces, demonstrating both our own interests and our commitment to the South China Sea remaining a shared space, with the concerns of all the littoral states recognised in the manner of its use.

The South China Sea’s worsening strategic dilemmas

Image courtesy of Flickr user Jake Belluci.

The world has moved on but most South China Sea strategies are stuck in the past. For example, Australia’s policies have changed very little from 2011 to today. So instead, let’s think about strategies for the future. China first became more assertive seven years ago; what could the South China Sea be like seven years from now?

Alternative futures represent a way for us to think about possible tomorrows. Imagine that the future lies somewhere between the best of all possible worlds and the worst, somewhere between a cooperative and a conflictual state. Neither extreme future is necessarily more likely than the other, but they allow us to think about the spectrum of possibilities. Using the cooperative and conflictual variables creates two possible alternative 2023s:

The cooperative future will be considered by many to be wildly optimistic, while pessimistic realists will say that the conflictual world bears some resemblance to where we are now. But the task for policymakers is to steer the future towards the ‘good’ tomorrow and away from the ‘bad’ one. Worryingly, the two major strategic thrusts at the moment, driven by ASEAN and the United States, don’t seem to be moving us in the good direction. .

ASEAN is trying to encourage China to sign a Code of Conduct (COC), an agreement conceived as a binding preventive diplomacy measure that’ll forestall conflict. Talks continue, as they have since 2002. Late 2017 is now the hoped-for target date for completion of the code, or at least an agreed draft. China though has long argued—and formalised in various international agreements—that the South China Sea isn’t a multilateral issue and so ASEAN as a grouping has no place discussing it. And in recent years China has convinced Cambodia, Laos and now the Philippines to embrace the PRC’s South China Sea stance, making an ASEAN South China Sea consensus unlikely. More pointedly, why would China sign something that doesn’t advance its interests?

America’s strategy in the South China Sea is much more narrowly focussed. In periodic Freedom of Navigation Operations (FONOPS), US Navy ships sail close to China’s new reclaimed islands. However, it’s hard to see that achieves anything long-lasting. At some time China may play hardball and try to deny access, probably using fishing vessels and its new large Coast Guard ships. The US wants its allies to join in those FONOPS, causing some political ructions in Australia about timing and whether sailing too close might escalate tensions. But the real issue is that such operations are ultimately meaningless in terms of helping create a better future world.

The main problem is that China holds the strategic initiative. At great cost, China has built six large islands in the South China Sea: three are substantial airbases and three host sizeable electronic surveillance installations. The scale of those new facilities is such that China can deploy an air combat force larger and more capable than any current ASEAN air force (with the possible exception of Singapore) off northern Borneo when it wishes. Given that, China can now easily enforce an Air Defence Identification Zone across the South China Sea when the time is deemed right. Most worryingly, for the first time China poses a realistic air threat to Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei and all of Borneo. China today militarily dominates the central ASEAN region thanks to those new airbases, and has effectively relocated itself to the geographic heart of ASEAN.

China has changed the ‘facts on the ground’. It won’t suddenly abandon its costly new facilities even if ASEAN develops an acceptable COC or America continues its FONOPS. China’s new military bases are now a permanent part of the core ASEAN region. The incoming Trump administration can’t change that new reality, and so far shows little desire to try.

This may seem a vision of despair, and to some extent, it is. There may be ways to move towards the envisaged ‘better’ South China Sea future, but there’s little appetite to impose the necessary costs on China to force a change of tack. Such costs cut both ways and no one—ASEAN, America or America’s allies—wishes to bear the imposts.

So the time might be right to embrace a risk management approach rather than a South China Sea strategy. It’s too late to try to solve the South China Sea disputes but not to limit the harm that China’s new island bases might inflict on their closer ASEAN neighbours, especially Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia. Those middle power states are both particularly important to Australia and geographically near.

In risk management terms, the aim would be to enhance the resilience of those states to Chinese pressure, threats and coercive diplomacy. The inward domestic focus of some of these nations might seem to preclude such an approach, but building resilience is internally, not outwardly, directed. Resilience threatens no one, while potentially minimising the political, diplomatic and military usefulness the new islands might have for China in times of peace, crisis or limited conflict. It’s time for some future-leaning policymaking.

DWP 2016: an Indonesian perspective

Australian and Indonesian Army soldiers carrying a stretcher during the Junior Officer Combat Instructor Training course conducted by the Australian Army's Combat Training Centre—Jungle Training Wing from 28 September to 10 October 2014.

The release of 2016 Defence White Paper signifies a much sharper focus from Australia on maritime Southeast Asia. Geography dictates that whenever Canberra looks at maritime Southeast Asia, the first country that appears in its strategic outlook is Indonesia. Indeed, the 2016 DWP reiterates Indonesia’s strategic importance to Australia as a ‘near neighbour’ (paragraph 2.81). While Indonesia’s strategic importance is something that Australia seems obliged to acknowledge heavily in each iteration of the Defence White Paper, the feeling isn’t always mutual. Indonesia’s 2008 DWP, for instance, mentions Australia nine times whereas Australia’s 2009 and 2013 DWPs mention Indonesia 21 and 32 times, respectively. The 2016 DWP is aware of this asymmetry. While the previous two Australian DWPs denote the relationship with Indonesia as Australia’s ‘most important’ in the region, the 2016 DWP only regards it as ‘vital’, offering a more realistic and productive view of the relationship.

For instance, while the 2009 DWP considers the potential of ‘an authoritarian or overly nationalistic regime in Jakarta’ as creating ‘strategic risks for its neighbours’ (4.33), the 2016 DWP excluded such references, as if to convey a greater Australian confidence in Indonesia’s potential as a reliable security partner.

Australia and Indonesia certainly share some common security interests that are discussed in the 2016 DWP, including ‘the security and stability of the maritime domains that we share, the free movement of trade and investment through these domains, and countering terrorism and people smuggling in our region’ (5.34). But those are only incidental intersections between different strategic outlooks, from which our respective strategic policies follow.

That raises a question about the extent to which Indonesia shares Canberra’s unqualified strategic assessment of the United States as a ‘stabilising force in the Indo–Pacific’ (2.80). While Indonesia certainly views the US’ role in regional security and stability as indispensable, the maintenance of US primacy in the region isn’t a sine qua non. Rather, Indonesia thinks that the region’s security and stability is best guaranteed through collective commitments towards shared norms and institutions (embodied within ASEAN-centric architectures) in which all the major powers become their guarantors and are equally responsible for their preservation. Former Indonesian Foreign Minister Marty Natalegawa’s ‘dynamic equilibrium’ concept reflects this sentiment in a way that still resonates within Indonesia’s present strategic outlook. The differences between Australian and Indonesian strategic outlooks shouldn’t be overstated, but they could become potential future stumbling blocks on the road toward a deeper strategic partnership.

The Australia–Indonesia relationship often depends on how Australia regards its role in Southeast Asia. That’s got nothing to do with the dichotomy between Australia’s history and geography, as John Howard once said, but is more about Australia’s ability and willingness to operate as an autonomous actor in response to strategic challenges in the region. Often Indonesia (and others in the region) finds it hard to distinguish Australia’s individual strategic policies from the policies that are implemented merely as demonstrations of Australian commitment to the US alliance, especially as the latter policies can be cloaked in the former. That’s particularly pertinent in light of Australia’s reactionary assertiveness, potentially through conducting military freedom of navigation operations (FONOPs), against China’s excessive maritime claims in the South China Sea.

The 2016 DWP notes Australia’s legitimate concerns about the militarisation and fortification of disputed features and waters in the South China Sea. Although the position is addressed to all claimants, China in particular is singled out, given the pace and scale of its reclamation activities relative to other parties. Indonesia is equally, if not more, alarmed as Australia is about China’s excessive maritime claims. But the two countries may be driven by different motives when considering their responses to this challenge. Despite its self-proclaimed non-claimant status, Indonesia is increasingly worried about the potential implications of the disputes on the Natuna Islands, and anxious about the Sino–American geostrategic brinkmanship in the region towards ASEAN’s unity and centrality, in which Indonesia’s credibility as a de facto primus inter pares is at stake. In contrast, Australia may think that challenging China due to its commitment towards the US alliance is as important as its own geostrategic and geoeconomic reasons.

Rather than simply acting out of the commitment to the US alliance, Australia’s South China Sea policies that are promoted largely by its own national interests (such as the maintenance of UNCLOS-based maritime order) could actually elicit greater appreciation from Indonesia and perhaps Southeast Asia. This would mean that Australia’s efforts shouldn’t only be about restraining China from imposing the 9-dash line, but also about mitigating the Sino–American geostrategic contest in the South China Sea.

Yet, the South China Sea could also become an arena where Australian and Indonesian strategic outlooks increasingly converge, and create a stimulus for a closer defence relationship. Indeed, with the 2016 DWP hailing ‘Indonesia’s increased focus on maritime affairs’ and Australia’s goal of seeking ‘greater cooperation on maritime security activities that contribute to a stable and prosperous region’ (5.34), the South China Sea could serve as a wake-up call for the two countries to consider more sophisticated maritime security cooperation.

Australia is starting to recognise Indonesia’s military modernisation and growing influence as ‘positive developments’ (2.83), which is a signal of Australia’s willingness to ameliorate the seemingly ubiquitous security dilemma with Indonesia. However, it takes two to tango: Indonesia’s next Defence White Paper could make positive reference to Australia’s military build-up as a continuation of its commitment to improving bilateral defence cooperation.

What to do about China’s missile provocation?

American, South Korean and Thai service members participate in an amphibious demonstration as part of Cobra Gold 16 in Utapao, Thailand, Feb. 12, 2016

Last week’s revelation by Fox News that China has placed two batteries of its HQ-9 air defence missile system on Woody Island in the Paracels has ignited arguments over possible responses within and beyond the Obama administration. Coming just at the close of the US-hosted ASEAN summit on South China Sea security issues, China’s move can be viewed as a defensive response to its continued perception of encirclement by a US-led coalition of regional powers. The move is also a veiled threat to any nation which may consider emulating the US Navy’s recent freedom of navigation operations (FONOPs).

How, then, should the US and its allies respond? Outraged defence hawks in the US will no doubt demand that steps be taken to punish China for what they perceive to be Chinese President Xi Xinping’s duplicity—most likely in the form of economic sanctions. Sanctions, however, could potentially hurt the US economy as badly as China’s, and will have little appeal for nations such as Vietnam, Malaysia or Australia, all of which are deeply engaged with China economically. Even less appealing would be any attempt to respond militarily, given China’s burgeoning anti-access/area-denial capabilities.

Acknowledging that China’s actions are diametrically opposed to the Americans’ understanding of Xi’s October pledge not to militarise its artificial islands, it’s useful to remember first, the pledge referred only to the Spratly Islands, and second, the clarification issued shortly after Xi’s return home. Xi’s announcement explicitly stated that ‘necessary defensive facilities’ would be put in place—a statement reiterated again yesterday by Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi. Ministry spokeswoman Hua Chunying when questioned about the missiles.

Given these facts, the worst possible response would be an open confrontation based on the (likely correct) assumption that China’s move resulted from a desire to pre-empt an expected finding against China’s claim by the UN Permanent Court of Arbitration (PCA). While the PCA’s ruling will address only the China–Philippines dispute over the Spratly Islands, its impact as a precedent with wider application in the South China Sea is no doubt raining on the parade of many a Chinese leader.

As an alternative, Admiral Harry Harris, commander of the US Pacific Command, could simply acknowledge that China’s projection of forces to the islands represents a successful exercise for the PLA, but one that undermines the rule of international law and that underscores the need for speedy adjudication of competing claims. Doing so offers China’s leaders a way to move beyond a potential military confrontation at no great cost; their failure to do so would then expose China’s true motives, setting the conditions for a better coordinated and regionally supported response. Such a course of action would also give the US and its allies a way to downplay the significance of this development.

Unfortunately, should the Chinese fail to respond to such an opening, few additional good options exist for the US. Continued FONOPs would demonstrate US resolve to confront China but pose the risk of accidental or deliberate confrontation (CUES be damned!) leading to a kinetic exchange from which neither side will find it easy to back away. But to do nothing undermines US credibility and influence in a region that already questions America’s commitment to the ‘pivot’ strategy.

A possible way to influence Chinese behaviour would be to invite the PLA to observe the combined US–Australia military exercise Talisman Sabre 2017. Our regional allies and partners already involve the PLA in exercises where the US is a participant, so the precedent exists. Giving PLA leaders a ringside seat in the ground, air, naval and joint forces headquarters in the US and Australia to see just how far behind China lags when it comes to planning and executing complex joint and multinational operations poses manageable risks and offers good potential for behaviour modification. The Chinese are anxious to build a truly joint operations capability and might be tempted by this offer to de-escalate tensions in the Paracels.

Another possible dilemma the US could present to China would be a UN Security Council resolution to internationalise the disputed islands. That course of action would require an official change of US policy, which currently takes no sides and encourages peaceful settlement through arbitration. It would also require considerable backroom diplomacy among ASEAN states as well as with South Korea and Japan owing to the significance of the precedent it would set. The certainty that China would exercise its veto power wouldn’t diminish the moral effect such a proposal and its resulting veto would have on world opinion. Conceivably, China could find itself further isolated given the EU preference for diplomatic settlement of disputes. With China’s economy already on shaky ground this would create a significant challenge to the regime. In any event, current US policy offers little flexibility if China refuses to play, so this is one issue where President Obama’s penchant for ‘evolving’ core principles would be welcomed by Republicans as well as America’s allies and partners in the region.

Continued highly-visible improvement of US relations with other principal stakeholders in the region (e.g., Vietnam, which will host a state visit by President Obama later this year) as well as continued support for implementation of the Trans-Pacific Partnership free trade agreement would further demonstrate US resolve to remain a western economic as well as military Pacific power. Finally, stepped-up bilateral and potential multilateral military exercises with Japan in the wake of last year’s changes to the national security laws, and continued discussions to emplace a Theatre High Altitude Air Defence system in South Korea, would show China that the US doesn’t lack other options in the event deterrence falls short. Taken together, the above actions wouldn’t in all likelihood deter China from continuing to proclaim its territorial goals but would be sufficient to deflect Xi and his immediate subordinates from continuing their provocative behaviour.

While not quite the 21st century equivalent of the remilitarisation of the Rhineland, China’s deployment of defensive weapons on islands in the South China Sea threatens to permanently alter the balance of power in the region. How the US and its regional allies and partners respond will have a significant bearing on China’s willingness to moderate its expansionist and revisionist territorial policies.

Stirring up the South China Sea

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The US has conducted another freedom of navigation operation (FONOP) in the South China Sea. On 30 January, the guided-missile destroyer USS Curtis Wilbur sailed within 12 nautical miles of Triton Island, a naturally formed feature, in the Paracel islands in the South China Sea. That group is claimed by China, Taiwan and Vietnam but is occupied by China.

The purpose of the latest FONOP was much clearer than that of the US’ previous FONOP in the region. In October last year, the destroyer USS Lassen sailed within 12 nautical miles of Subi Reef occupied by China in the Spratly group of islands. Uncertainty surrounding what that operation was trying to demonstrate led to US Defense Secretary Ashton Carter some two months later providing a rather less than crystal-clear explanation.

The Lassen incident was confused because it took place in hotly disputed waters near one of China’s ‘artificial’ islands well off any established shipping lane. The Lassen was challenged by Chinese naval units during the transit. Strong diplomatic protests subsequently followed from Beijing to Washington.

In comparison with the Lassen incident, the Curtis Wilbur operation was a ‘soft’ FONOP. By ‘soft’, I mean a relatively less provocative routine navigational event such as most FONOPs regularly carried out by the USN.

The US Defense Department website on the Freedom of Navigation (FON) program shows that the US conducted FONOPs against 19 countries in 2014, including China. The excessive claims by China that were the target of a FONOP were: ‘Excessive straight baselines; jurisdiction over airspace above the EEZ; restriction on foreign aircraft flying through an Air Defense Identification Zone (ADIZ) without the intent to enter national airspace; domestic law criminalizing survey activity by foreign entities in the EEZ.’ Similar FONOPs have been made every year since 2009. The Curtis Wilbur FONOP was challenging two claims by China—the straight baselines claimed around the Paracel (Xisha) Islands and China’s requirement for prior notification of a warship transiting its territorial sea.

The Curtis Wilbur operation was also ‘soft’ because it involved a ship transiting along a well-used shipping lane past a naturally formed feature. Vessels transiting through the Paracels pass well within 12 nautical miles of various features in the group. I did so myself several years ago when travelling in a large container ship from Hong Kong to Port Klang in Malaysia. There were other merchant ships at the time doing likewise. Over the years, warships of various countries, including the US, have probably also done so without being challenged by China. It’s an established shipping route between Guungzhou and Hong Kong in the north and Singapore Straits in the south, and China so far has made no attempt to exercise control over the route.

In comparison, the Lassen case could be seen as ‘hard’ (i.e. relatively more provocative and contentious) because the ship deliberately went off any established shipping route to demonstrate a right of passage in hotly disputed waters around an ‘artificial’ island.

What’s unusual about the Curtis Wilbur operation isn’t so much the operation itself, but rather that the US chose to give it so much publicity. Similar operations by the US haven’t been so publicised in the past. By publicising the event, it looks as though the US intended to stir the pot in the South China Sea. Significantly, the event occurred just two days after the head of US Pacific Command, Admiral Harry Harris’s pledge to push harder on Chinese territorial claims in the South China Sea.

Immediately after the event, the US Department of Defense made an official statement claiming that the operation challenged attempts by the three claimants—China, Taiwan and Vietnam—to restrict navigation rights and freedoms.

However, despite the reference to Taiwan and Vietnam, the operation was clearly aimed at China, the current occupant of Triton Island, and the major target of US FONOPs in the South China Sea. Due no doubt to the nature of the operation, the Chinese response has been more muted than that to the Lassen affair, and the Chinese didn’t directly challenge the transit by the Curtis Wilbur.

What does all this mean for Australia? On the one hand, very little. We should continue our established pattern of operations in the South China Sea, notably the Operation Gateway patrols and de facto FONOPs with RAN vessels occasionally sailing within the excessive territorial sea straight baselines claimed by several littoral countries to the South China Sea. Those are ‘soft’ operations.

However, on the other hand, we shouldn’t escalate those operations (by conducting what might be regarded as ‘hard’ operations), focus them on any particular claimant country, or give them undue publicity. Such actions would only add to tensions in the South China Sea.

What to do about the South China Sea?

SOUTH CHINA SEA (Sept. 17, 2015) The Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Lassen (DDG 82), right, receives fuel from the Military Sealift Command dry cargo and ammunition ship USNS Amelia Earhart (T-AKE 6) during an underway replenishment. Lassen is on patrol in the U.S. 7th Fleet area of responsibility in support of security and stability in the Indo-Asia-Pacific region. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Corey T. Jones/Released)In a recent comment piece in The Australian, Peter Jennings urges action in the South China Sea. He’s quite correct. China’s island-building activities are clearly demonstrating Beijing’s determination to fundamentally alter the current situation by its own asserting sovereign control over international waters.

Unfortunately, what replaced the earlier status quo has now become a fait accompli. Attempting to shoehorn a military response to fit a diplomatic problem represents a fundamental category error. Australia does need to take action—but returning defence spending to Cold War levels would be futile and pointless.

For years we lived with a plethora of overlapping national claims to the atolls, rocks and shoals that poke through the waters here at low tide. Nevertheless (although with the occasional exception when heightened tensions have led to small-scale confrontations between claimants) it’s always been assumed that, at some long-distant point in the future, negotiations would eventually lead to a mutually agreed settlement of the claims. China’s unilateral actions suggest this is no longer possible.

Tiny spits of sand in the disputed waters have now been turned into huge islands. By acting in this way Beijing has signaled—unequivocally—that it won’t withdraw. This means there can be no negotiations. The Dragon is shifting in its bed and telling the fleas to get out of the way.

At the Australian military’s staff college, this is the point at which the Directing Staff hand over to syndicates. The problem is clear: what’s required is a clear response that will contribute to a positive solution. Perhaps this explains why James Goldrick (a former commander of the Australian Defence College) has now offered a subtle and effective program for action.

There’s just one problem: it won’t work. While it’s simple to urge the dispatch of a naval force to operate in the disputed waters, it’s just not realistic. Goldrick suggests we point out to Beijing that its ‘islands’ are artificial and didn’t rise above high tide until it conducted the land reclamation operations. So what? They do now.

It’s difficult to see exactly what would be achieved by such a provocative course. Yes, we would have ‘proved’ we believe those are international waters, but do we really want to risk war? What if, for example, China sent its vessels to intercept ours or, even worse, threatened to fire on RAN vessels transiting these waters? Do we really want such a confrontation?

The difficulty is to negotiate the plethora of differing objectives that motivate the various actors in the drama. By sailing a navy ship within 12 nautical miles of China’s new ‘islands’ President Obama has sent a clear signal that the US won’t be recognising Beijing’s claim. But now what? And what are the other claimants going to do? The US still refuses to ratify the UN Convention on Law of the Sea (although abiding by it) but the real problem will come the next time America attempts to do the same thing.

What happens when, instead of simply shadowing the US ship through the waters, a couple of Chinese fishing vessels place themselves in the way of the American vessel? Or China doesn’t accept the transit. And what of the other claimants to these waters? It’s not at all clear what the end-game is here. The creative tension that ASEAN has accepted with the mutually overlapping claims of its members worked as long as the different nations respected each other and didn’t attempt to force the issue. Those times are over; China’s playing for keeps.

ASEAN still hasn’t even managed to frame a joint protest against China’s actions, which can hardly come as a surprise to anyone who’s been following that organisation’s record. If the Southeast Asian countries had been able to negotiate demarcations between themselves, they might have had a show at preventing China’s unilateral action. Unfortunately they couldn’t get their act together earlier and it’s far too late for that now.

Jennings recommends lifting our defence spending to a minimum of 2% of GDP over the longer term but again, what will this achieve? China will outspend us, no matter how much we boost our commitment. Perhaps more importantly, building up our forces isn’t a sensible answer to the problem of land reclamation in the South China Sea. It’s an attempt to find a military answer to resolve a diplomatic question, and it won’t work.

Since 2008 we’ve spent (all up) the equivalent of $1 billion a year on sending forces to the Middle East, and yet that situation has just deteriorated further. Our forces haven’t achieved the desired effect. That’s why I’d be searching for a clearer link between boosting spending and achieving the desired result before assuming that buying more ships and submarines made any sense.

Perhaps most importantly, aggressiveness doesn’t suit the new political mood in the country.

Tony Abbott constantly linked the deteriorating international situation with the need to spend more money to increase security. This didn’t win him the votes when he needed them. Not even the Liberal party room is listening to the old siren song emphasising defence. Malcolm Turnbull has already made it quite clear that he believes the best security is guaranteed by a sound economy. He’ll be paying down the deficit before he spends more money on our armed forces.

Australians should be unsettled by what’s happening in the South China Sea, but they’re not rushing to enlist because of it.

Will Japan join the US in freedom of navigation patrols in the South China Sea?

The guided-missile destroyer USS Lassen (DDG 82) and an SH-60F Seahawk helicopter assigned to Helicopter Anti-submarine Squadron Light (HSL) 51, Detachment 1, are participating in Eastern Endeavor 2010

Following the freedom of navigation patrols operation (FONOP) in the South China Sea (SCS) by the guided-missile destroyer USS Lassen, a key question is whether Washington’s allies will also signal to China that its ‘land reclamation’ activities were in violation with the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).

In particular, the US will look to Australia and Japan, its closest allies in the Asia-Pacific who, alongside the Philippines, were quick to provide diplomatic support for the operation. From Canberra’s perspective, it’s important to assess whether Tokyo will be prepared to join US patrols as part of a regional cost imposing strategy on China.

Expectations have been growing that Japan might indeed significantly lift its strategic game in the SCS. They have been nurtured in the recent past by senior Japanese politicians and military leaders. In February this year, Defence Minister, Gen Nakatani, flagged the possibility of Japanese ships joining US patrols in the area.

In June, the Chief of the Joint Staff of the Japan Self-Defence Forces, Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, also indicated that a Japanese FONOP was a future possibility. Moreover, under Prime Minister Shinzo Abe Japan significantly enhanced its defence cooperation with a number of Southeast Asian countries, most notably the Philippines, Vietnam and more recently Indonesia. For instance, in June 2015 Japan’s Maritime Self-Defence Force (MSDF) conducted a naval exercise with the Philippines as a means to demonstrate solidarity.

Tokyo also further strengthened its defence relations with its US ally, Australia and India—all of which (to varying degrees) have sought to counter China’s activities in the SCS. The overall impression is that Japan intends to play a greater role in influencing Southeast Asian power dynamics.

However, it’s unlikely that Japanese warships will participate in FONOPS any time soon. Domestically, the Abe government faces an electorate highly sceptical of his efforts to pave the way for a more muscular Japanese strategic and defence policy.

The Prime Minister himself admitted that his successful push for a revision of security laws in September this year, enabling the Japanese Self-Defence Force (JSDF) to fight overseas for the first time since WWII, failed to win popular support. Consequently, a FONOP in the SCS at this point of time would be rejected by a large part of the media, the electorate, the opposition parties and Abe’s coalition partner, the New Komeito.

Moreover, such an operation would fly in the face of Japan’s interest in improving relations with China which have entered calmer waters after a long period of heightened tensions over the Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands dispute. From Tokyo’s point of view, there’s no need to unnecessarily provoke Beijing at this time.

After all, Japan isn’t a party to the territorial conflict in the SCS. And China is likely to react extremely sensitively to a Japanese FONOP around one of its artificial islands in the SCS, setting back the progress made since Abe and his Chinese counterpart shook hands in November 2014. It should also be noted that Japan’s strategic focus is on the defence of its many islands against Chinese assertiveness. FONOPS in the SCS could thus very quickly overstretch the capabilities of the JSDF.

As a result, Japanese patrols in the SCS in support of US FONOPS are unlikely any time soon. That said, the strategic game of signalling and posturing in the SCS has only just begun.

Just like Australia, Japan has a fundamental interest in the maintenance of a rules-based maritime order in the Western Pacific. Should China’s strategic behaviour in these waters continue unabated, Japan could indeed change its rather modest military engagement there. And it’s likely that US pressure on Japan to show the flag in the SCS will also intensify.

In this context, Australia’s position on the conduct of FONOPS might become an important factor for Japan’s own response. Should Canberra decide to exercise its options for such operations within 12 nautical miles of China’s artificial islands, Tokyo might reconsider its current reluctance to change its approach to the FONOPS.

Both sides should therefore use the opportunities for high-level bilateral meetings during a number of summits in November (ADMM+ in Malaysia, APEC in the Philippines, and the G-20 in Antalya) to discuss their approaches and joint responses. As well, the trilateral security relationship between Australia, Japan and the United States should be utilised to discuss the potential and limitations of ‘cost imposing’ strategies on China.

Doing so might deliver a clearer picture to what extent these three players are really prepared to stand up to China’s assertive behaviour in maritime Southeast Asia. For the time being, however, we shouldn’t expect too much from Japan.