Australians observed the 2016 presidential election with some nerves. For good reason: as a postcolonial cousin of the United States, one that has shared American barracks in most recent conflicts, the relationship between the two countries is nearly sacrosanct. It is matched only by the heavy links that chain Britain and her wayward children.
It took only 10 days for the Trump Administration to start Antipodean tongues wagging. As February began, a telephone call between Washington D.C. and Canberra led to reports of a souring in the cherished relationship. When Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull faced journalists later that day, he had a host of accusations to deny: President Trump hanging up 25 minutes into their conversation, the confrontational tone of the call, the reneging on a refugee deal struck with the Obama Administration, and so on.
Adding insult to injury, President Trump lambasted the resettlement agreement, calling it a “dumb deal”. With the Administration not content with startling a key ally, Press Secretary Sean Spicer doubled-down on the tense atmosphere, mispronouncing Prime Minister Turnbull’s name (Note: not ‘Trumble’) on multiple occasions.
Photo credit: Reid Parker.
The affair has left Australians questioning where they stand in the new White House’s foreign policy plans. The President moved to quell fears of a weakening friendship, thanking Turnbull on Twitter for “telling the truth” about their conversation. Former federal Treasurer Joe Hockey met with key figures on Pennsylvania Avenue in his current role as Australian Ambassador to the United States. In spite of Trump’s declaration that he would ‘study this dumb deal’, as far as official statements are concerned, the agreement to resettle 1250 refugees in the US is going ahead.
The real effects of this diplomatic stumble, however, may be felt strongest in the Asia-Pacific. Despite over a century of explicit nationhood, Australia is still a land among strangers. Their most familiar friend is isolated New Zealand. To the Near North, which is still tellingly thought of as the Far East, lies countries such as Indonesia, Papua New Guinea, East Timor and the Philippines. A reader would be hard-pressed to find a neighbour with whom Australia has enjoyed a stellar relationship. Australia is shielded in from its geographic realities; it is an Asian country with a “Whites Only” past.
For this reason, “The Lucky Country” has looked to its ethnic cousins for support. But even this has not materialised without hiccups. Australia and New Zealand committed men to the sadistic blood-circuses of the World Wars. Australian soldiers boarded flights to Seoul and Saigon in turn. The Diggers shared transport, tucker and trenches with Yanks and Tommies. All the way through to current conflicts, this three-way entente has held firm.
For all its tradition and frequency, this special relationship has not existed without detractors. Just beyond the horizon, the Asian powerhouses of India, China, the Republic of Korea and Japan simmer. A tendency to embrace these arenas flourished under the prime ministerships of Gough Whitlam, Malcolm Fraser, Bob Hawke and Paul Keating – between 1972 to 1995. Even 22 years after leaving office, Keating leads the charge for a switch in Australia’s foreign affairs zeitgeist.
Added into this is President Trump’s rhetoric, painting a portrait of a nation being conned, which fits in well with lowering allies’ perceptions of themselves. It is cosa nostra diplomacy: aid requires a service, a repayment. As the highest-spending military power on the planet, America is fulling embracing its role in the international protection racket.
Expanding outwards from Canberra, Australians are right to ask how such a change might look. The issue is one of severity: were President Trump to denigrate the position of Australia as an ally, which he has increasingly sought to do in order to secure his “America First” domestic position, America might be hit with tight restrictions. While the maelstrom need not be this negative, the signals being projected from Washington suggest preparation is necessary.
The first nation to consider is the most prominent in the neighbourhood – Indonesia. Australia’s history with the most populous Muslim country on the planet is chequered. Despite the invasion of East Timor gaining the blessing of the Fraser Government, Australian forces were in the country a few decades later, keeping the peace. Just this year, Indonesian officials took offence to a section of a military syllabus and suspended military ties. The objection centred around the most pressing and yet ignored atrocity in the region, namely the treatment of West Papuans by the Indonesian government. Culturally and diplomatically, the hurdles associated with Indonesia – of which parts serve mainly as Australia’s Ibiza or Miami – make forming an alliance an unworthy struggle.
Similar issues can be found throughout that particular bloc. Philippines President Rodrigo Duterte has made discussions with his country difficult. There is also a fear that the minnows of the region, by comparison with the United States and Britain, would not provide enough clout. The stability of some South-East Asian countries, the likes of Myanmar, for example, also dissuades a change in focus.
In an unusual inversion of the laughable Domino Theory, Australia must search upwards and northwards to find a suitable mate (in both senses of the word). Diplomats and politicians can be assured that they are on the right team with ex-enemies China (Korean War) and Japan (World War II). While the former may require some moral and mental gymnastics, a certain global understanding in the spirit of the Cold War helps: “Hey, folks, it’s either China or the States.” Favourable economic data will be relied upon, especially in the case of the Republic of Korea. If Australia is feeling particularly welcoming, they may appeal to India; two enormous postcolonial nations, admittedly at different points in the journey, against the world.
All this having been said, however, it would be a myopic act to sever ties with Australia’s European and North American counterparts. Regardless of how savage President Trump’s critiques of the relationship may be, in the interest of security, Australia must keep the United States on side. Britain is more of an afterthought, in the sense that it requires no thought at all. Sharing a monarch, a legacy and certain perceptions about place and status all tie the Poms and the Aussies. If Australia takes the hopeful leap into republicanism, this may change and the term ‘afterthought’ may be taken more seriously.
It still remains to be seen how President Trump’s actions will toy with Australia’s foreign policy. The word from Sean Spicer remains that this deal will proceed, under the auspices of “extreme vetting”. The early days of this Administration have been marked by protest, blunders and barriers. The rise of subversive hashtags such as #AlternativeFacts indicate shifting sands, both technologically and politically.
Some find the title soixant-huitard (or a ‘68er) to be pretentious. Personally, I reserve a little envy: dix-septard doesn’t hold the same gravitas. Whether these protests, the fumbled diplomacy or the damned Tweeting will lead to a mass re-thinking of the current relationship between Australia and the United States is uncertain. What is definitely on the table, however, is the understanding that, sensible or not, a north-bound foreign policy migration at the cost of American warmth will be part of the discussion.
Reagan is currently pursuing a Bachelor of Political, Economic and Social Sciences at The University of Sydney, and dreams one day of becoming a professional writer. Follow him on Twitter at @WardReagan97.