Nostalgia masks Australia's strategic drift, limited agency, and growing dependence in alliances.
Australian soldiers during a joint military exercise, amid debate over Canberra’s defence spending and alliance commitments (Photo: File)
This writer is old enough that his view of Australia and Australians was only reinforced by the laconic, tough-as-nails Crocodile Dundee. Instead it was formed much earlier from a photo of Australian troops (at least what was left of them) in formation after stopping the Imperial Japanese Army on the Kokoda Track in New Guinea in 1942. And Australians fought like tigers in Korea and Vietnam and have been along with America in subsequent fights. The professionalism and grit of Australian troops today is unquestioned.
But there's something different about Australia and the US-Australia relationship, that even the recent love fest in Washington between the two nations' defense and foreign ministers can quite paper over. Respected foreign affairs analyst James Carafano wrote a thoughtful piece prior to the ministerial meeting. This writer offers a somewhat different assessment of some of the article's key points. In general, it repeatedly overstates Australia's strategic weight and competence while understating the Albanese government's passivity and structural weaknesses.
STRATEGIC TENTATIVENESS AND ABSENCE OF AGENCY
The article correctly notes that Canberra "remains tentative, with no clear strategy for dealing with Washington and appears not to grasp U.S. expectations." This is charitable. After more than a century of alliance management, Australia cannot credibly claim ignorance: the consistent U.S. demand has been simple—spend more on credible hard-power capabilities and contribute materially to collective deterrence. Canberra has consciously chosen not to meet that demand, maintaining defence spending at the bare NATO minimum of 2% of GDP (an inadequate benchmark for the Indo-Pacific) while hoping symbolic commitments will suffice.
SUPPOSED MASTERY IN THE PACIFIC ISLANDS
The claim that Australia is "invaluable in preventing Chinese military footholds in the Pacific Islands" is detached from reality. The trajectory of Solomon Islands' security pact with Beijing, the loss of diplomatic recognition battles in multiple states, and the near-total collapse of Australian soft-power influence in the region demonstrate the opposite. Canberra's Pacific policy has been under-resourced, condescending, and reactive for two decades. Far from being an asset, Australia is currently a weak link.
THE $8.5 BILLION RARE-EARTHS DEAL
Signing an agreement to expand processing in Australia sounds constructive until one recalls the regulatory environment. Lengthy environmental approvals, labyrinthine Indigenous land-use negotiations, state-federal discord, and aggressive green activism make Australia one of the slowest and most expensive places on earth to build new processing plants. Committing billions to projects that will face years of delay and cost blow-outs before producing a single tonne of separated rare earths is not serious diversification strategy; it is political theatre until the aforementioned regulatory and political barriers are resolved.
"STARVED FOR ATTENTION"
The complaint that Australia feels neglected because President Trump is focused elsewhere sounds like Australians have a sense of entitlement. If Australia wishes to command more attention, it must bring more to the table—larger forces, forward basing, accelerated AUKUS infrastructure, and genuine risk-sharing—rather than waiting to be courted.
AUKUS AND THE PRETENCE OF RESOLVE
The article acknowledges that Australia will struggle to sustain AUKUS alongside other defence needs, but stops short of the logical conclusion: with a tiny capital budget, a risk-averse and byzantine procurement system, and no political willingness to re-prioritise spending, Australia is not currently on a trajectory to become a serious tier-one partner by the 2030s. The continued indecision over an east-coast submarine base—seven years after the decision to acquire nuclear-powered submarines and still no selected site—symbolises the broader problem: a government that wants the prestige of AUKUS without accepting the cost, discipline and expense required to deliver it.
THE MOST LIKELY SCENARIO
The author judges "continuity grounded in AUKUS" the most probable outcome, with only minor tweaks. That is almost certainly correct—because doing nothing has been Australia's default setting for years. Minimum compliant defence spending, occasional rhetorical flourishes about the rules-based order, and reliance on the United States to underwrite deterrence will likely persist.
The danger is that this complacency assumes American tolerance is infinite and that geography alone will continue to buy time. Both assumptions are increasingly questionable. It can be argued that Australia has moved closer to the PRC for over 40 years. This has only increased with Australia's complete trade dependence on China and handcuffs Canberra's freedom of movement in the defense and foreign policy realms.
Australia is also very good at buddying up with the Americans. Indeed, a friend mentioned recently that "if the Australians were as good at national defence as they are at PR (and Canberra does spread a lot of money around in Washington) the Chinese wouldn't come within 5,000 miles of the place." Make no mistake, Australia is still an ally. But as with all allies, one must always consider the current reality versus the hype and the nostalgia.
