Will Australia become China’s puppet state? THE ASIAN BALANCE
For the first time in its history, Australia has to reckon that the US might not have the will or wherewithal to maintain the regional order
For the past few months, I have been riveted by developments in Australia. Almost every week threw up news of yet another way in which China is influencing Australian politics and public life. At long last, this week Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull’s government announced new legislation aimed at preventing foreign powers from “making sophisticated attempts to influence the political process.”
That Beijing would use seduction, corruption and coercion to promote its interests is neither surprising nor unique. What struck me, though, was none of it is prima facie illegal under Australian law. Political parties could accept funds from Beijing-linked Chinese tycoons; former Cabinet ministers could accept high-paying jobs in firms and organisations linked to Chinese businessmen with mysterious sources of wealth; serving senators could depart from their own party’s position and instead parrot Beijing’s line on foreign policy; students’ unions could work as proxies of Chinese consulates and almost all Australian Chinese-language newspapers toe the line from Beijing.
That Chinese political influence in Australia had crossed “normal” levels was clear at least from 2015 when Australian intelligence officials briefed the main political parties of such activities. Nothing changed — in fact, politicians of the opposition Labor party are under criticism for accepting funds from a mysterious Beijing-linked businessman even after the briefing. Another politician, this time from the ruling Liberals, has in his campaign team the right-hand man of another mysterious Beijing-linked businessman.
While China was openly buying political influence, it was discovered that its deputy prime minister and four other senators were unqualified to sit in Parliament because, well, they were dual citizens of Commonwealth countries, in some cases without their knowledge. Courts disqualified them. A century-old law had thus protected Australia from foreign political influence, and the insidious and nefarious designs of New Zealand, Canada and Britain were exposed and defeated.
Clearly, new laws were required to raise the barriers for foreign influence. The Turnbull government now seeks to ban foreign donations to political parties, require foreign influencers and domestic political campaigners to register and tighten laws on espionage and treason. This won’t prevent foreign powers from interfering in domestic politics — but it will make it more difficult, and more importantly, a violation of the law.
While laws can reduce direct political influence that is visible to the naked eye, Australia will find it harder to insulate itself against online tactics such as those allegedly used by the Russians in the US presidential elections. Australia is a liberal, highly networked society and thus vulnerable to large scale information operations. Open societies where free speech is protected find this problem particularly hard to tackle.
Clive Hamilton, a Canberra professor who completed a book titled Silent Invasion: How China is turning Australia into a Puppet State found that his publishers wanted to “delay” printing it because, among others, of a legal threat from one of the self-same mysterious Chinese businessmen at the centre of the political funding controversy. “No actual threats were made by Beijing or its agents; the shadow it now casts over Australia was enough,” Hamilton writes. “The fear of the Communist Party in the hearts of much of the Chinese diaspora here has spread into the mainstream. Allen & Unwin is probably the most admired publisher in Australia, certainly within the industry. So its decision is a major turning point in Australia’s political history, for it signals that a powerful, authoritarian foreign state can suppress criticism of it abroad, and so smooth the path for its ongoing campaign to shift this country into its orbit.”
Asked if she would alert the Chinese embassy if dissident Chinese students organised human rights protests on Australian campuses, the president of Canberra University’s Chinese Students’ and Scholars’ Association said that she would. “I would definitely, just to keep all the students safe,” she said. “And to do it for China as well.”
I myself have witnessed coercive behaviour by Chinese students in foreign campuses: Over a decade ago in Singapore, one of my professors was “reported” to the university administration for stating that over 20 million people had died due to Mao Zedong’s policies. A few days later he issued a red-faced apology for “hurting the sentiments of some students” which, I suspect, was the university’s way to prevent the Chinese embassy from taking notice.
Liberal democratic societies have to deal with the classic practical dilemma of dealing with illiberalism — liberalism requires that the illiberal not be denied their right to free speech; even when the latter are determined to undermine liberalism. All of us living in liberal democracies have to contend with this challenge, both from within and from without.
We in India might find it hard to appreciate how difficult it is for Australia to resist Chinese influence — not only does the country host a large number of Chinese immigrant citizens, not only does its economy depend on China, but for the first time in its history it also has to reckon with the doubt that the United States might not have the will or wherewithal to maintain the regional order.
Late last month, the Australian government published a foreign policy White Paper implicitly committing itself to balancing Chinese power in the region. The counter-view appeared a few days ago. Hugh White, a long-time pro-China voice, published another Quarterly Essay arguing that Australia has no choice/is better off bandwagoning onto China.