The lethal theatre of the absurd that has been the Trump administration’s sabre rattling performances in the Central American basin over the last few months culminated with the military attack on Venezuela and the kidnapping of its president and his wife in the early hours of Saturday morning, Caracas time. The tactical precision of the special operation was excellent, efficient and low cost when it came to human lives. While the number of Venezuelan casualties are yet unknown (although deaths are reported in the dozens and include Cubans among the victims), US forces suffered eight injuries and although some of the helicopters deployed received shrapnel damage, all assets returned to base safely. From a military tactical standpoint, the operation was a success and a demonstration of capability.

Even so, the broader picture is more complicated and therefore less straightforward when it comes to assessing the aftermath. Here I shall break down some of the main take-aways so far.

The strike on Venezuela was interesting because it was a hybrid decapitation and intimidation strike. Although US forces attacked military installations in support of the raid (such as by destroying air defence batteries), they only went after Maduro and his wife using their specialist Delta Force teams. That is unusual because most decapitation strikes attempt to remove the entire leadership cadres of the targeted regime, indulging its civilian and military leadership. They also involve seizing ports and airfields to limit adversary movements as well as the main means of communications, such as TV and radio stations, in order to control information flows during and after the event. The last thing that the attacker wants is for the target regime to retain its organizational shape and ability to continue to govern and, most importantly, mount an organised resistance to the armed attackers. This is what the Russians attempted to do with their assault on Kiev in February 2023.

That did not happen in this instance. Instead, the US left the entirety of the Bolivarian regime intact, including its military leadership and civilian authorities. Given reports of CIA infiltration of Venezuela in the months prior to the attack and the muted Venezuelan response to it, it is likely that US agents were in “backdoor” contact with members of the Bolivarian elite before the event, providing assurances and perhaps security guarantees to them (amnesty or non-prosecution for crimes committed while in power) in order to weaken their resistance to the US move. US intelligence may have detected fractures or weakness in the regime and worked behind Maduro’s back to assure wavering Bolivarians that they would not be blamed for his sins and would be treated separately and differently from him.

This might explain Vice President (now interim President) Delcy Rodriguez’s promise to “cooperate” with the US. That remains to be seen but other Bolivarian figures like Interior Minister Diosdaro Cabello and Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino Lopez, notorious for their leadership of Maduro’s repressive apparatus, may not be similarly inclined given that their post-Maduro treatment is likely to be very different–and they still may have control over and the loyalty of many of the people under their commands.

Trump says that the US “will run” the country for the foreseeable future until a regime transition scenario is developed, but in light of the limited nature of the military operation, it is unclear how the US proposes to do so. What is clear is that the US had real time intelligence from the CIA and perhaps regime insiders that allowed them to track and isolate Maduro in a moment of vulnerability. Ironically, for Maduro this proved fortunate, because given the surveillance that he was subjected to, any attempt to escape Caracas could have resulted in his death by drone. Instead, he and his wife get to be a guest of the US federal justice system.

(As an aside, it is noteworthy that the Maduro’s were indicted on cocaine trafficking charges and possessions of machine guns. No mention is mentioned in the indictments of fentanyl, the justification for the extra-judicial killings of civilians at sea by US forces and one of the initial excuses for attacking Venezuela itself (the so-called “fentanyl shipment facilities”). Possession of machine guns is not a crime in Venezuela, certainly not by a sitting leader facing constant violent threats from abroad. So the US is basically charging them with unlicensed firearms violations in the US rather than in Venezuela–where it has no jurisdiction–even though they do not reside there while switching the basis for the kidnapping from a fictitious accusation to something that may have more evidentiary substance. But in truth, the legal proceedings against the Maduros are no more than a fig leaf on the real reasons for their extraordinary rendition).

Even if limited in nature as a decapitation strike, the immediate result of the US use of force is intimidation of the remaining Bolivarians in government. Unless they regroup and organise some form of mass resistance using guerrilla/irregular warfare tactics, thereby forcing the US to put boots on the ground in order to subdue the insurgents (and raising the physical and political costs of the venture), at some point the post-Maduro Bolivarians will be forced to accept power-sharing with or replacement by the US backed opposition via eventual elections, and as Trump has indicated, the US will take control of Venezuelan oil assets (in theory at least). In his words: “they (US oil companies) will make a lot of money.” For this to happen the US will maintain its military presence in the Caribbean and adjacent land bases, in what Marco Rubio calls “leverage” in case the Venezuelans do not comply as demanded. This is coercive diplomacy in its starkest form.

Source: Wikimedia Commons, November 30, 2025

Put bluntly, this is an extorsion racket with the US military being used as the muscle with which to heavy the Bolivarians and bring them to heel. In light of Trump’s and the US’s past records, this should not be surprising. The question is, has the US read the situation correctly? Are the Bolivarians ao much disliked that the country will turn against them in droves and support an ongoing US presence in the country? Is the military and civilian leadership so weak or incompetent that they cannot rule without Maduro and need the US for basic governmental functioning (which is what the US appears to believe)? Have all of the gains made by lower class Venezuelans been eroded by Maduro’s corruption to the point that a reversal of the Bolivarian policy agenda in whole or in part is feasible? Will average Venezuelans, while thankful for the departure of the despot, accept abject subordination to the US and its puppets? Or will Cuban and Russian-backed civilian militias and elements in the armed forces retreat into guerrilla warfare. thereby forcing the US into a prolonged occupation without a clear exist strategy (i.e. deja vu all over again)?

There are some interesting twists to the emerging story. Maria Corina Machado, the US-backed opposition figure-turned-Nobel Peace Prize winner, has positioned herself to be the power behind the throne for Maduro’s heir apparent, Edmundo Gonzalez, who most election observers believe won the 2024 presidential elections but was denied office due to Maduro’s clearly fraudulent manipulation of the vote count. But Trump says that she “is not ready” and does not have the ” support” or “respect” within Venezuela to run the country. This seems to be code words for “too independent-minded” or “not enough of a puppet” (or even “female”) for Trump, who seems unaware of how a close overt association between his administration and any potential future Venezuelan leader may receive mixed reactions at home and abroad. In any event, sidelining Machado could have some unexpected repercussions.

Then there is the issue of how the US and its Venezuelan allies propose to purge the country of foreign actors like Hezbollah, Russians, Cubans and most importantly from an economic standpoint, the Chinese. Rounding up security operatives is one thing (although even that will not be easy given their levels of experience and preparation); dispossessing Chinese investors of their Venezuelan holdings is a very different kettle of fish So far none of this appears to have been thought out in a measure similar to the planning of the military raid itself.

Finally, Trump’s claims that Venezuela “stole” US oil is preposterous. In 1976 a nationalisation decree was signed between the Venezuelan government–a democracy–and US oil companies where Venezuela gained control of the land on which oil facilities were located and received a percentage of profits from them while the private firms continued to staff and maintain the facilities in exchange for sharing profits (retaining a majority share) and paying sightly more in taxes. That situation remained intact until the 1990s, when a series of market-oriented reforms were introduced into the industry that loosened State management over it. After Hugo Chavez was elected president in 1998 on his Bolivarian platform, that arrangement continued for a short time until 2001 when the Organic Hydrocarbon Law was reformed in order to re-assert State control and foreign firms began withdrawing their skilled labor personnel and some of their equipment when taxes were increased on them. By 2013 the oil infrastructure was decrepit and lacking in skilled workers to staff what facilities are still operating, so Chavez (by then on his death bed) expropriated the remaining private holdings in the industry.

This was clearly unwise but it was not illegal and certainly was not a case of stealing anything. Moreover, the Venezuelan oil industry limped along with help from Bolivarian allies like the PRC and Russia because it is the country’s economic lifeline (and cash cow for the political elite dating back decades). So it is neither stolen or completely collapsed. As with many other things, the complexities of the matter appear to be unknown to or disregarded by Trump in favour of his own version of the “facts.”

Regardless, the PRC has stepped into the breech and invested in Venezuela’s oil industry. They may resist displacement or drive a hard bargain to be bought out. It will therefore not be as simple as Trump claims it to be for US firms to return and “make a lot of money” from Venezuelan oil.

It is these and myriad other “after entry” (to use a trade negotiator’s term) problems that will make or break the post-Maduro regime, whatever its composition. In the US the word is that the US “broke it so now owns it,” but the US will never do that. It has seldom lived up to its promises to its erstwhile allies in difficult and complex political cultures that it does not understand. It has a very short attention span, reinforced by domestic election cycles where foreign affairs is of secondary importance. So it is easily manipulated by opportunists and grifters seeking to capitalise on US military, political and economic support in order to advance their own fortunes (some would say this of the MAGA administration itself). If this sounds familiar it is because it is a very real syndrome of and pathology in US foreign affairs: focus on the military side of the equation, conduct kinetic operations, then try to figure out what else to do (nation-build? keep the peace? broker a deal amongst antagonistic locals?) rather than simply declare victory and depart. Instead, the US eventually leaves on terms dictated by others and with destruction in its wake.

One thing that should be obvious is that for all the jingoistic flag-waving amongst US conservatives and Venezuelan exiles, their problems when it comes to Venezuela may just have started. Because now they “own” what is to come, and if what comes is not the peace and prosperity promised by Trump, Rubio, Machado and others, then that is when things will start to get real. “Real” as in Great Power regional conflict real, because launching a war of opportunity on Venezuela in the current geopolitical context invites responses in kind from adversaries elsewhere that the US is ill-equipped to respond to, much less control.

The precedent has been set and somewhere, perhaps in more than one theatre, the invitation to reply is open.

Stay tuned and watch this space.

First, there is the question of who is not participating. Even though they are also maritime trade dependent, India, Indonesia and the PRC, among other Asian states, have not joined the coalition. This suggests that protection of freedom of navigation is not the sole criteria behind the decision to join or not, something confirmed by the fact that other than Bahrain, all of the signatories to the statement are 5 Eyes partners, NATO members or NATO partners (like Australia, Japan, New Zealand and South Korea). Bahrain is the location of the US Navy Central Command, the US Fifth Fleet and the combined task force (CTF-153) responsible for overseeing “Operation Prosperity Guardian,” the name given to the anti-Houthi maritime defense campaign. It has a strained relationship with Iran due to its suspicion that Iran foments unrest among it’s Shia majority (which is ruled by a Sunni aristocracy). Like many Sunni oligarchies, it sees the Houthis as Iranian proxies.

Some Muslim majority states may have declined to join Operation Prosperity Guardian out of caution rather than solidarity with the Palestinians. Anti-Israel demonstrations have broken out throughout the Islamic world, so reasons of domestic stability and elite preservation may be as much behind the calculus to decline as are sympathies with Gazans or Houthis. Others, such as those in the Western Hemisphere other than Canada and the US, may simply feel that their foreign trade is not significantly impacted by blockages of Red Sea maritime lanes and therefore feel that it is best to leave the conflict to others more directly (and materially) affected.

The name of the Operation suggests that is focused on maritime security and freedom of navigation. Twelve percent of the world’s trade passes through Bad-el-Mandeb. There is an average of 400 ships in the Red Sea at any one time. The Houthis have launched dozens of attacks on Red Sea shipping since the Gaza-Israel War began using a variety of delivery platforms. The situation has the potential for expansion into regional war, and even if it is not, it is adding transportation time delays and billions in additional costs to the global supply chain, something that will sooner or later be reflected in the cost of commodities, goods and services.

But there is a twist to this tale. The Houthis claim that they are only targeting ships that are suspected of being in- or outward-bound from Israel as well as the warships that seek to protect them. They argue that they are not targeting shipping randomly or recklessly but instead trying to impede Israel’s war re-supply efforts (this claim is disputed by shipping firms, Israel, the US, UK and various ship-flagging states, but the exact provenance of cargoes is not subject to independent verification). They claim that their actions are justified under international conventions designed to prevent genocide, specifically Article One of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide(given the wholesale slaughter of Palestinian civilians in Gaza since October 7) and point to UN statements supporting the claim that what Israel is doing in Gaza and the West Bank, if not a “complete” genocide, certainly has the look and feel of ethnic cleansing. The South Africa application to the International Court of Justice charging Israel with genocide in Gaza, now supported by Turkey, Malaysia, Jordan, the Organisation for Islamic Cooperation (OIC) and hundreds of civil rights organisations around the world, is also being used by the Houthi rebel regime (and alternate sovereign) in Yemen as justification for their attacks.

In essence, what has been set up here is a moral-ethical dilemma in the form of a clash of international principles–guaranteeing freedom of navigation, on the one hand, or upholding the duty to protect against genocide on the other.

Source: Quora.com

Needless to say, geopolitics colours all approaches to the conundrum. The Houthis (who are Shia) are clients of Iran (home to Shia Islam), who are also patrons of anti-Israel actors such as the Shia Alawite regime in Syria, Hamas in Palestine, Hezbollah in Lebanon and numerous Iraqi Shiite militias. Iran (and through it its various regional clients and proxies), has strong military ties to Russia and the PRC (for example remember that Russia is using Iranian-made attack drones in the Ukraine). For their part, the NATO alliance and its partners are all major intelligence partners of Israel, as is Bahrain. So the confrontation in the Red Sea may not be so much about the moral-ethical obligations in defending freedom of navigation or resisting genocide per se, but instead is part of larger balance-of-power jousting in which the principles are extra-regional but the agents are in the Middle East.

New Zealand has already chosen a rhetorical side based, presumably, on its support for the principles of freedom of navigation and its rejection of the argument that the Houthis are doing the little that they can to resist genocide in Gaza. Should NZ send a warship to join the CTF-153 naval picket fence protecting commercial ships running the gauntlet at Bad-el-Mandeb, then it will have further staked its position on the side of its Western security partners as well as put its sailors in harm’s way. Some will say that it has placed more value on containers than the lives of Gazan children. Others will say being signatory to a warning statement is more symbolic than practical and that New Zealand is not in a position to send a warship to the Red Sea in any event.

For New Zealand the choice may be a pragmatic decision based on sincere belief in the “freedom of the seas” principle, disbelief in the Houthi’s sincerity when it comes to resisting genocide (or the argument itself), concern about Iranian machinations and the presence of Russia and the PRC in the regional balance of power contest, indirect support for Israel or simply paying, as former New Zealand Prime Minister John Key once said, “the price for being in the club.” Whatever the reason or combination thereof, it appears to the neutral eye that once again NZ has put facilitation of trade ahead of upholding universal human rights in its foreign policy calculations.

Perhaps the best way to characterise this approach is to call it a matter of prioritising conflicting principles in strategically pragmatic ways. Whether that puts NZ on the right side of history given the larger stakes in play remains to be seen.

In International relations, realism refers to the view that States have interests and use relative power capabilities to pursue those interests in an anarchic world order lacking a superordinate power or Leviathan (that is, a condition that Hobbes referred to as the “state of nature’). Conversely, idealism refers to the better angels and perfectibility of humankind, seeing a desire for cooperation as being equally as strong as the urge to enter into conflict with others. Constructivism tries to bridge the gap between realism and idealism by positing that the creation and expansion of international institutions designed to foster cooperation and diminish conflict is a means to constrain anarchy in world affairs. International systems analysis serves as a meta-theory that sees the world order in quasi-organic terms, as an evolving entity that is more than the sum of its aggregate parts and which has an unconscious logic and process of its own that is a collective response to the machinations of individual States and other non-State actors, thereby mirroring the invisible hand of the economic market when it comes to determining efficiency at a systemic level.

Classic realism dates back to Otto von Bismarck and has it most recent exponents in Henry Kissinger and John Mearsheimer. Idealism draws its inspiration from Woodrow Wilson, and constructivism owes its reputation to Alexander Wendt. International systems theory is the brainchild of Morton Kaplan. The works of these authors and others such as Hans Morgenthau and Kenneth Waltz continue to be the guideposts for current practitioners throughout the West (the list is illustrative only, as the number of authors involved in International relations theorising is great).

Realism posits that States have core and secondary interests; that threats are existential, imminent, or incidental; that States may have allies and enemies but do not have friends because interest, not affection is what defines their relationships; that wars are defensive or offensive in nature and are fought for existential and imminent reasons that can lead to pre-emptive strikes against existential and imminent threats as well as preventative attacks to reduce the possibility of an adversary reaching imminent threat status. Wars of opportunity are discouraged because they can lead to uncertain and unexpected outcomes and do not involve existential or imminent threats or core interests; wars of necessity are fought because they have to be, as they involve core interests and are fought against existential or imminent threats.

The current world moment has seen another development, one that is less salubrious in part because it originates from within authoritarian regimes like those governing Russia, the PRC, DPRK, Turkey, Iran and other contemporary dictatorships. The basic premise of this school of thought, which I will call “authoritarian realism” is that a new world order must be created that replaces the Western-centric liberal international order that has been present in world affairs for the last sixty or so years and which has dominated the landscape of international relations since the end of the Cold War. The latter is the system that we see in the form of the UN and other international organisations like the ILO, WTO, WHO, IMF, EU, OAS, OAU, PIF, SPC, NATO, SEATO, UNITAS, ASEAN, IADB, World Bank and a word salad of other regional and multilateral organisations.

For authoritarian realists, these organisations constitute an institutional straitjacket that constrains their freedom of manoeuvre on the global stage as well as that of most of what is now known as the “Global South:” post-colonial societies locked into subordinate positions as a consequence of Western imperialism and neo-imperialism. For authoritarian realists, the supposed ideals that liberal international institutions espouse and what they were constructed to pursue were done for and by Western colonial and neo-colonial powers seeking to establish an undisputed hierarchical status quo when it comes to how international affairs and foreign policy is conducted. More pointedly, in authoritarian realist eyes now is the time for that hierarchy to be challenged because the balance of power between the liberal democratic West and emerging non-Western contenders has shifted away from the former and towards the latter.

That is due to the fact that in the transitional period after the US lost its status as sole superpower “hegemon” in world affairs (stemming from 9/11, its ill-advised invasion of Iraq, long-term and futile engagement in Afghanistan and other conflict zones as well as it mounting internal divisions), the world has been moving to a new order in which other Great Powers compete for prominence, and in which the norms and rules-based liberal internationalist system has been replaced by norm erosion, norm violations and conflict on the part of uncooperative nation-States and non-State actors pursuing their goals outside of established institutional parameters.

This is, in other words, the state of nature or anarchy that Hobbes wrote about on which realists are most focused upon. Liberal rules and norms are no longer universally binding so the default option is to use national power capabilities to pursue individual and collective interests unfettered by self-binding adherence to dysfunctional and biased global institutions. It should therefore not be surprising that a new global arms race has developed over the past decade involving the full spectrum of force, including advanced submarines and nuclear-tipped intercontinental and intermediate missile systems.

In realist views power is relative rather than absolute and covers a host of material and ideological dimensions–economic base, diplomatic acumen, military might, internal political and social stability and ideological consensus, and so forth. Adversaries must calibrate their responses to others based on their assessments of relative aggregate power vis a viseach other as well as other States and international actors. For authoritarian realists it is clear that the West is in decline on most power dimensions, especially morally, culturally and politically as exemplified by the US in the last decade. The West still has economic, military and diplomatic power, but the rise of the PRC, India (nominally democratic but increasingly authoritarian in practice), Russia, Turkey, Iran and lesser dictatorships, coupled with an rightwing authoritarian shift in places like Hungary, the US, Italy and France, demonstrates that the halcyon days of liberal democracy are now past. All talk of climate change, work-life balance, LBGTQ rights and indigenous voice notwithstanding, progressivism (either class-or identity-based) is not making significant gains on the world stage, at least in the eyes of realists in both the West as well as the South and East.

Most fundamentally, what separates the democratic and authoritarian realists is not power per se, but values. For authoritarian realists the liberal democratic West is in decline, overcome by its own excesses, degeneracy, corruption, inefficiencies, vacilliatory leaders and other affronts to the “natural” or “traditional” order of things. In contrast, modern authoritarians (including those in the West) value hierarchy, efficiency, unity of purpose, the demographic superiority of their dominant in-groups, decisive leadership and strength of resolve. Freedoms of speech, association and features such as judicial independence from political authority are seen by authoritarians as easily exploitable Achilles Heels through which division and disunity can be fomented in liberal democracies using disinformation, misinformation, graft and other influence campaigns. Liberal democrats are egalitarian “betas.” Authoritarian realists are self-identified “Alphas.” Consequently, the current word moment is seen as a window of opportunity for authoritarian realists to press their relative (Alpha) advantage in order to re-draw the global geopolitical map and its institutional superstructure. This redrawing project can be considered the authoritarian (neo) version of constructivism on the world stage.

The Russian invasion of Ukraine and the Hamas attack on Israel are examples of how Russia practices authoritarian realism directly and indirectly. The idea in the first instance was to redraw the map of Europe via direct aggression on a former vassal state, assuming that NATO and the EU were too divided and weak after BREXIT and Trump when it came to a collective response. That would impede military support for Ukraine, thereby facilitating a Russian victory on Europe’s southeaster flank, something that would further divide and weaken European resolve to confront Russia, leading in turn to more Russian “assertiveness” along its Western Front. Although that assumption proved false and in fact has backfired at least for the moment, the original concept of exploiting perceived Western weakness was and is clearly at play given ongoing divisions within Western nations about if and how to continue supporting the Ukrainian military effort. The end game of that conflict has yet to be written and could well play into Russia’s favour if extended indefinitely until Western electorates tire of supporting governments that continue to direct resources towards someone else’s war.

Hamas’s attack on Israel came after long-term planning, training and equipping involving its two major sponsors: Iran and Russia (who are military partners). Here the goal is to use the attack and the expected Israeli over-reaction (collective punishment of Gazan civilians for Hamas’s crimes) to sow discord within the Arab world and beyond. Although the official response from most Western governments and corporate media is (at times jingoistically) pro-Israel, pro-Palestinian demonstrations across the world have laid bare the broader social-political divisions aggregated around the conflict. Moreover, other than the US and UK, no major power is offering military support to Israel, and China and Russia have both condemned the Israeli response without mentioning Hamas in their pronouncements (and in fact are silent partners with Iran in supplying war materiel to Shiite militias like Hezbollah, Hamas, Houthis and the al-Sadr brigades in Iraq, even while both maintain strong economic ties to Israel). Sunni Arab governments such as those of Saudi Arabia and the UAE, which have worked to normalise relations with Israel, have now had to backtrack in the face of unrest emanating from the Arab street, and the prospects of the conflict expanding to several fronts in Southern Lebanon, the Golan Heights and West Bank and even spilling over into a major regional war involving Syria, Iran and their patrons cannot be discounted. All of which will help redefine the geopolitics of the Middle East as well as its relationship to extra-regional interlocutors regardless of the specific outcome of this latest iteration of what has become a perpetual war.

In the South and East China Seas, the Sino-Indian border and the borderlands of Tibet and Bhutan, the PRC has engaged in aggressive military diplomacy, using force to annex foreign territories and present a new territorial status quo to its neighbours. As with the Russian interventions in Georgia and Ukraine, these usurpations have been declared unlawful by international courts and condemned by international organisations like the UN. And yet, because of alack of enforcement power–and will–on the part of the International community as currently represented by its institutional edifice of regional bodies and international organisations, these moves have been only lightly challenged, gone largely unpunished and certainly have not been reversed. The result is a new status quo in East Asia in which PRC sovereignty is claimed and de facto accepted well to the West of its recognised interior land borders and far to the South of its littoral seas.

PLANS carrier Liaoning (CV-16) conducting air operations with Shenyang J-15 PLAn fighter. Source: Wikipedia Commons 2022.

In the authoritarian realist mindset, moves to take advantage of the current moment in order to redraw the international geopolitical order, including its institutional foundations, are critical to their survival as independent powers. The PRC is driven by a desire to finally achieve its rightful place as a Great Power after centuries of humiliation by foreign powers. For Russia it is about re-claiming its place as an Empire. For lesser dictatorships it is about using national power to move unconstrained in the global arena, unencumbered by the protocols, norms and niceties of the liberal internationalist order. For all of these authoritarians, marshalling their resources in a common effort to undermine and replace Western institutions is a giant step towards real freedom of action in which relative power is the sole determinant of what a nation-State can and cannot do when it comes to foreign relations. If one is charitable, there might even be a bit of idealism attached to these various projects, as authoritarian realists use soft power applications in order to help the Global South out from under the yoke of Western post-colonial imperialism once and for all even as they empower themselves by doing so.

Some of this is evident in projects like the PRC Belt and Road Initiative, which is a global developmental project that is designed to challenge and replace Western developmental assistance and cement the PRC’s position as the foremost provider of infrastructure investment and financial aid to the Global South. In parallel, both Russia and China have expanded their military alliance networks in the Middle East and Sub-Saharan Africa while courting more engagement with Latin American and Central Asia countries (India and Pakistan, respectively). Russia and the PRC have quietly revived and assumed stewardship of the so-called BRICS bloc of nations, including expanding its membership to include Argentina, Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, Saudi Arabia and the UAE in 2024. On both economic and military fronts, authoritarian realists are constructing an alternative to the liberal international order.

All of this manoeuvring has added a new twist to the long transitional moment that the international system is undergoing and in fact has altered the way in which the emerging systemic realignment is being shaped. Rather than the anticipated move from a unipolar world dominated by the US to a multipolar world in which the US shared space as a Great Power with emerging and re-emerging Great Powers like the PRC, India, Russia, Japan and perhaps Brazil and/or others, what is coming into shape is a new bipolar world made up of competing constellations or networks of like-minded nation-States, to which are being added non-State technology actors looking for economic opportunity in increasingly loose regulatory environments brought about by the erosion of international rules and norms in the field of transnational commerce.

Multipolarity is not always symmetric in nature or geopolitics. This is an aspartic acid molecule. Source: Wikimedia Commons 2017.

There is some time to go before the full shape of the new bipolar “constellation” order is confirmed. Authoritarian realists will retain their own nation-centric views even if their interests overlap in the bipolar constellation format. Western nations will need to revise their approaches to world affairs and in particular their positions vis a vis the post-colonial Global South given the competition for the South’s attention provided by the authoritarian realists. All of this makes for uncertain and fluid times in which the best hedge is multi-level power multiplication with focused application by the emerging constellations of competing States and associated non-State actors. How the wars in Ukraine and in Gaza turn out will give us a relatively short-term glimpse into what the geopolitical order will look like by the end of the decade because technology, will and multinational commitment are now being put to the test in both new and old ways in those arenas.

Two things are worth noting. At this critical juncture it is by no means assured which side of the emergent bipolar constellation balance of power will be favoured over the long term. What is certain is that only one side is actively working to re-make the world order in that image, Those are the authoritarian realists.

It is worth pausing to consider the broader context in which these developments have played out, both in terms of background context as well as some of the specific issues canvassed during the junket. First, we must address some key concepts. Be forewarned: this is long.

China on the Rise and Transitional Conflict.

For the last three decades the PRC has been a nation on the ascent. Great in size, it is now a Great Power with global ambitions. It has the second largest economy in the world and the largest active duty military, including the largest navy in terms of ships afloat. It has a sophisticated space program and is a high tech world leader. It is the epicenter of consumer non-durable production and one of the largest consumers of raw materials and primary goods in the world. Its GDP growth during that time period has been phenomenal and even after the Covid-induced contraction, it has averaged well over 7 percent yearly growth in the decade since 2011.

The list of measures of its rise are many so will not be elaborated upon here. The hard fact is that the PRC is a Great Power and as such is behaving on the world stage in self-conscious recognition of that fact. In parallel, the US is a former superpower that has now descended to Great Power status. It is divided domestically and diminished when it comes to its influence abroad. Some analysts inside and outside both countries believe that the PRC will eventually supplant the US as the world’s superpower or hegemon. Whether that proves true or not, the period of transition between one international status quo (unipolar, bipolar or multipolar) is characterised by competition and often conflict between ascendent and descendent Great Powers as the contours of the new world order are thrashed out. In fact, conflict is the systems regulator during times of transition. Conflict may be diplomatic, economic or military, including war. As noted in previous posts, wars during moments of international transition are often started by descendent powers clinging or attempting a return to the former status quo. Most recently, Russia fits the pattern of a Great Power in decline starting a war to regain its former glory and, most importantly, stave off its eclipse. We shall see how that turns out.

Spheres of Influence.

More immediate to our concerns, the contest between ascendent and descendent Great Powers is seen in the evolution of their spheres of influence. Spheres of influence are territorially demarcated areas in which a State has dominant political, economic, diplomatic and military sway. That does not mean that the areas in question are as subservient as colonies (although they may include former colonies) or that this influence is not contested by local or external actors. It simply means at any given moment some States—most often Great Powers—have distinct and recognized geopolitical spheres of influence in which they have primacy of interest and operate as the dominant regional actor.

In many instances spheres of influence are the object of conquest by an ascendent power over a descendent power. Historic US dominance of the Western Hemisphere (and the Philippines) came at the direct expense of a Spanish Empire in decline. The rise of the British Empire came at the expense of the French and Portuguese Empires, and was seen in its appropriation of spheres of influence that used to be those of its diminished competitors. The British and Dutch spheres of influence in East Asia and Southeast Asia were supplanted by the Japanese by force, who in turn was forced in defeat to relinquish regional dominance to the US. Now the PRC has made its entrance into the West Pacific region as a direct peer competitor to the US.

Peripheral, Shatter and Contested Zones.

Not all spheres of influence have equal value, depending on the perspective of individual States. In geopolitical terms the world is divided into peripheral zones, shatter zones and zones of contestation. Peripheral zones are areas of the world where Great Power interests are either not in play or are not contested. Examples would be the South Pacific for most of its modern history, North Africa before the discovery of oil, the Andean region before mineral and nitrate extraction became feasible or Sub-Saharan Africa until recently. In the modern era spheres of influence involving peripheral zones tend to involve colonial legacies without signifiant economic value.

Shatter zones are those areas where Great Power interests meet head to head, and where spheres of influence clash. They involve territory that has high economic, cultural or military value. Central Europe is the classic shatter zone because it has always been an arena for Great Power conflict. The Middle East has emerged as a potential shatter zone, as has East Asia. The basic idea is that these areas are zones in which the threat of direct Great Power conflict (rather than via proxies or surrogates) is real and imminent, if not ongoing. Given the threat of escalation into nuclear war, conflict in shatter zones has the potential to become global in nature. That is a main reason why the Ruso-Ukrainian War has many military strategists worried, because the war is not just about Russia and Ukraine or NATO versus Russian spheres of influence.

In between peripheral and shatter zones lie zones of contestation. Contested zones are areas in which States vie for supremacy in terms of wielding influence, but short of direct conflict. They are often former peripheral zones that, because of the discovery of material riches or technological advancements that enhance their geopolitical value, become objects of dispute between previously disinterested parties. Contested zones can eventually become part of a Great Power’s sphere of influence but they can also become shatter zones when Great Power interests are multiple and mutually disputed to the point of war.

Strategic Balancing.

The interplay of States in and between their spheres of influence or as subjects of Great Power influence-mongering is at the core of what is known as strategic balancing. Strategic balancing is not just about relative military power and its distribution, but involves the full measure of a State’s capabilities, including hard, soft, smart and sharp powers, as it is brought to bear on its international relations.

That is the crux of what is playing out in the South Pacific today. The South Pacific is a former peripheral zone that has long been within Western spheres of influence, be they French, Dutch, British and German in the past and French, US and (as allies and junior partners) Australia and New Zealand today. Japan tried to wrest the West Pacific from Western grasp and ultimately failed. Now the PRC is making its move to do the same, replacing the Western-oriented sphere of influence status quo with a PRC-centric alternative.

The reason for the move is that the Western Pacific, and particularly the Southwestern Pacific has become a contested zone given technological advances and increased geopolitical competition for primary good resource extraction in previously unexploited territories. With small populations dispersed throughout an area ten times the size of the continental US covering major sea lines of communication, trade and exchange and with valuable fisheries and deep water mineral extraction possibilities increasingly accessible, the territory covered by the Pacific Island Forum countries has become a valuable prize for the PRC in its pursuit of regional supremacy. But in order to achieve this objective it must first displace the West as the major extra-regional patron of the Pacific Island community. That is a matter of strategic balancing as a prelude to achieving strategic supremacy.

Three Island Chains and Two Level Games.

The core of the PRC strategy rests in a geopolitical conceptualization known as the “three island chains” This is a power projection perspective based on the PRC eventually gaining control of three imaginary chains of islands off of its East Coast. The first island chain, often referred to those included in the PRC’s “Nine Dash Line” mapping of the region, is bounded by Japan, Northwestern Philippines, Northern Borneo, Malaysia and Vietnam and includes all the waters within it. These are considered to be the PRC’s “inner sea” and its last line of maritime defense. This is a territory that the PRC is now claiming with its island-building projects in the South China Sea and increasingly assertive maritime presence in the East China Sea and the straits connecting them south of Taiwan.

The second island chain extends from Japan to west of Guam and north of New Guinea and Sulawesi in Indonesia, including all of the Philippines, Malaysian and Indonesian Borneo and the island of Palau. The third island chain, more aspirational than achievable at the moment, extends from the Aleutian Islands through Hawaii to New Zealand. It includes all of the Southwestern Pacific island states. It is this territory that is being geopolitically prepared by the PRC as a future sphere of influence, and which turns it into a contested zone.

The 3 Island Chains. (Source: Yoel Sano, Fitch Solutions)

The PRC approach to the Southwestern Pacific can be seen as a Two Level game. On one level the PRC is attempting to negotiate bilateral economic and security agreements with individual island States that include developmental aid and support, scholarship and cultural exchange programs, resource management and security assistance, including cyber security, police training and emergency security reinforcement in the event of unrest as well as “rest and re-supply” and ”show the flag” port visits by PLAN vessels. The Solomon Island has signed such a deal, and Foreign Minister Wang has made similar proposals to the Samoan and Tongan governments (the PRC already has this type of agreement in place with Fiji). The PRC has signed a number of specific agreements with Kiribati that lay the groundwork for a more comprehensive pact of this type in the future. With visits to Vanuatu, Papua New Guinea and East Timor still to come, the approach has been replicated at every stop on Minister Wang’s itinerary. Each proposal is tailored to individual island State needs and idiosyncrasies, but the general blueprint is oriented towards tying development, trade and security into one comprehensive package.

None of this comes as a surprise. For over two decades the PRC has been using its soft power to cultivate friends and influence policy in Pacific Island states. Whether it is called checkbook or debt diplomacy (depending on whether developmental aid and assistance is gifted or purchased), the PRC has had considerable success in swaying island elite views on issues of foreign policy and international affairs. This has helped prepare the political and diplomatic terrain in Pacific Island capitals for the overtures that have been made most recently. That is the thrust of level one of this strategic game.

That opens the second level play. With a number of bilateral economic and security agreements serving as pillars or pilings, the PRC intends to propose a multinational regional agreement modeled on them. The first attempt at this failed a few days ago, when Pacific Island Forum leaders rejected it. They objected to a lack of detailed attention to specific concerns like climate change mitigation but did not exclude the possibility of a region-wide compact sometime in the future. That is exactly what the PRC wanted, because now that it has the feedback to its initial, purposefully vague offer, it can re-draft a regional pact tailored to the specific shared concerns that animate Pacific Island Forum discussions. Even if its rebuffed on second, third or fourth attempts, the PRC is clearly employing a “rinse, revise and repeat” approach to the second level aspect of the strategic game.

An analogy the captures the PRC approach is that of an off-shore oil rig. The bilateral agreements serve as the pilings or legs of the rig, and once a critical mass of these have been constructed, then an overarching regional platform can be erected on top of them, cementing the component parts into a comprehensive whole. In other words, a sphere of influence.

Western Reaction: Knee-Jerk or Nuanced?

The reaction amongst the traditional patrons has been expectedly negative. Washington and Canberra sent off high level emissaries to Honiara once the Solomon Islands-PRC deal was leaked before signature, in a futile attempt to derail it. The newly elected Australian Labor government has sent its foreign minister, sworn into office under urgency, twice to the Pacific in two weeks (Fiji, Tonga and Samoa) in the wake of Minister Wang’s visits. The US is considering a State visit for Fijian Prime Minister (and former dictator) Frank Baimimarama. The New Zealand government has warned that a PRC military presence in the region could be seriously destabilising and signed on to a joint US-NZ statement at the end of Prime Minister Ardern’s trade and diplomatic junket to the US re-emphasising (and deepening) the two countries’ security ties in the Pacific pursuant to the Wellington and Washington Agreements of a decade ago.

The problem with these approaches is two-fold, one general and one specific. If countries like New Zealand and its partners proclaim their respect for national sovereignty and independence, then why are they so perturbed when a country like the Solomon Islands signs agreements with non-traditional patrons like the PRC? Besides the US history of intervening in other countries militarily and otherwise, and some darker history along those lines involving Australian and New Zealand actions in the South Pacific, when does championing of sovereignty and independence in foreign affairs become more than lip service? Since the PRC has no history of imperialist adventurism in the South Pacific and worked hard to cultivate friends in the region with exceptional displays of material largesse, is it not a bit neo-colonial paternalistic of Australia, NZ and the US to warn Pacific Island states against engagement with it? Can Pacific Island states not find out themselves what is in store for them should they decide to play the Two Level Game?

More specifically, NZ, Australia and the US have different security perspectives regarding the South Pacific. The US has a traditional security focus that emphasises great power competition over spheres of influence, including the Western Pacific Rim. It has openly said that the PRC is a threat to the liberal, rules-based international order (again, the irony abounds) and a growing military threat to the region (or at least US military supremacy in it). As a US mini-me or Deputy Sheriff in the Southern Hemisphere, Australia shares the US’s traditional security perspective and emphasis when it comes to threat assessments, so its strategic outlook dove-tails nicely with its larger 5 Eyes partner.

New Zealand, however, has a non-traditional security perspective on the Pacific that emphasises the threats posed by climate change, environmental degradation, resource depletion, poor governance, criminal enterprise, poverty and involuntary migration. As a small island state, NZ sees itself in a solidarity position with and as a champion of its Pacific Island neighbours when it comes to representing their views in international fora. Yet it is now being pulled by its Anglophone partners into a more traditional security perspective when it comes to the PRC in the Pacific, something that in turn will likely impact on its relations with the Pacific Island community, to say nothing of its delicate relationship with the PRC.

In any event, the Southwestern Pacific is a microcosmic reflection of an international system in transition. The issue is whether the inevitable conflicts that arise as rising and falling Great Powers jockey for position and regional spheres of influence will be resolved via coercive or peaceful means, and how one or the other means of resolution will impact on their allies, partners and strategic objects of attention such as the Pacific Island community.

In the words of the late Donald Rumsfeld, those are the unknown unknowns.

While pursuing my Ph.D. I was a student of one of the US’s original nuclear strategists, someone who had been a targeter during the planning for the nuclear attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In his old age he taught nuclear strategy and wrote several books and articles that outlined the logic of nuclear deterrence that obtained from the end of WW2 through the early 1980s (One was titled “Moving Toward Life in a Nuclear Armed Crowd”). It was from him that I learned that the original logic of deterrence, Mutual Assured Destruction (MAD) was being replaced as early as the late 1970s with something known as Flexible Response. That evolution continues to this day, with additional nuclear armed actors now factored into the equation.

A recent speech by New Zealand foreign minister Nanaia Mahuta has sparked a wave of criticism, mostly from conservative Anglophone commentators and politicians. Dubbed the “Taniwha and Dragons” speech, most of the criticism rested on the double premise that NZ is “sucking up” to the PRC while it abandons its obligations to its 5 Eyes intelligence partners. Some have suggested that NZ is going to be kicked out of 5 Eyes because of its transgressions, and that the CCP is pulling the strings of the Labour government.

These views are unwarranted and appear to be born of partisan cynicism mixed with Sinophobia, racism and misogyny (because Mahuta is Maori and both Mahuta and PM Ardern are female and therefore singled out for specific types of derision and insult). Beyond the misinterpretations about what was contained in the speech, objections to Mahuta’s invocation of deities and mythological beasts in the speech misses the point. Metaphors are intrinsic to Pasifika identity (of which Maori are part) and serve to illustrate basic truths about the human condition, including those involved in international relations. As an astute observer noted, imagine if a US Secretary of State was an indigenous person (such as Apache, Cherokee, Hopi, Mohican, Navaho, Sioux or Tohono O’odham, to name a few). It is very possible that s/he would invoke ancestral myths in order to make a point on delicate foreign policy issues.

Hon. Nanaia Mahuta, New Zealand Foreign Minister (photo: New Zealand Labour Party).

This post will clarify a few facts. First, on military and security issues covering the last two decades.

New Zealand has twin bilateral strategic and military agreements with the US, the first signed in 2010 (Wellington Declaration) and the second in 20012 (Washington Declaration). These committed the two countries to partnership in areas of mutual interest, particularly but not exclusively in the South Pacific. New Zealand sent troops to Afghanistan as part of the US-led and UN-mandated occupation after 9/11, a commitment that included NZSAS combat units as well as a Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Bamiyan Province that mixed humanitarian projects with infantry patrols. More than 3500 NZDF troops were deployed in Afghanistan, at a cost of ten lives and $300 million.

Similarly, NZ sent troops to Iraq after the US invasion, serving in Basra as combat engineers in the early phase of the occupation, then later as infantry trainers for Iraqi security forces at Camp Taji. More than 1000 NZDF personnel were involved in these deployments, to which can be aded the SAS operators who deployed to fight Saddam Hussein’s forces and then ISIS in Iraq and Syria after its emergence. There are a small number of NZDF personnel serving in various liaison roles in the region as well, to which can be added 26 NZDF serving as peacekeepers in on the Sinai Peninsula (there are slightly more than 200 NZDF personnel serving overseas at the moment). In all of these deployments the NZDF worked with and now serves closely with US, UK and Australian military units. The costs of these deployments are estimated to be well over $150 million.

The NZDF exercises regularly with US, Australian and other allied partners, including the US-led RimPac naval exercises and Australian-led bi- and multilateral air/land/sea exercises such as Talisman Saber. It regularly hosts contingents of allied troops for training in NZ and sends NZDF personnel for field as well as command and general staff training in the US, Australia and UK. RNZN frigates are being upgraded in Canada and have contributed to US-led freedom of navigation exercises in the South China Sea (against PRC maritime territory extension projects) and anti-piracy and international sanctions enforcement missions in the Persian Gulf. Among the equipment purchases undertaken during the last two decades, the NZDF has bought Light Armoured Vehicles (Strykers, as they are known in the US), Bushmaster armoured personnel carriers, C-130J “Hercules” transport aircraft, P-8 “Poseidon” anti-submarine warfare and maritime surveillance aircraft, Javelin anti-tank portable missiles and a range of other weapons from 5 Eyes defence contractors. In fact, the majority of the platforms and equipment used by the NZDF are 5 Eyes country in origin, and in return NZ suppliers (controversially) sell MFAT-approved weapons components to Australia, the US, UK , NATO members, regional partners and some Western-leaning regimes in the Middle East.

After the estrangement caused by the dissolution of the ANZUS defence alliance as a result of NZ’s non-nuclear decision in the mid-1980s, a rapprochement with the US began in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. The 5th Labour government sought to capitalize on the moment and sent troops into Afghanistan and later Iraq using the cover of UN resolutions to deflect political attacks. That led to improved military-to-military relations between the US and NZ, something that has been deepened over the years by successive NZ governments. The intelligence relationship embodied in the Echelon/5 Eyes agreement was slightly curtailed but never ended even when ANZUS dissolved, and was gradually restored as the main security partnership to which NZ was affiliated. Now the NZDF is considered a small but valued military and intelligence partner of the US and other 5 Eyes states, with the main complaints being (mostly from the Australians) that NZ does not spend enough on “defense’ (currently around 1.5 percent of GDP, up from 1.1 percent under the last National government, as opposed to 2.1 percent in Australia, up from 1.9 percent in 2019) or provide enough of its own strategic lift capability. The purchase of the C-130J’s will help on that score, and current plans are to replace the RNZAF 757 multirole aircraft in or around 2028.

The dispute over US warships visiting NZ because of the “neither confirm or deny” US policy regarding nuclear weapons on board in the face on NZ’s non-nuclear stance was put to rest when the Arleigh Burke-class destroyer USS Sampson (DDG-102) participated in the RNZN 75th anniversary celebrations in November 2016 after an agreement between the then National government and US Department of Defense on assurances that it was not carrying or using nukes as weapons or for propulsion. As if to prove the point of bilateral reconciliation, on the way to the celebrations in Auckland DDG-102 diverted to provide humanitarian support to Kaikura earthquake relief efforts after the tremor of November 14th (the week-long anniversary fleet review involving foreign naval vessels began on on November 17th). A Chinese PLAN warship also participated in the anniversary Fleet Review, so the message conveyed by the first official NZ port visit by a US warship in 30 years was made explicitly clear to the PRC.

As for intelligence gathering, NZ is a core part of the 5 Eyes signals intelligence collection and analysis network. Over the years it has moved into the field of military signals intelligence gathering as well as technical and electronic intelligence-gathering more broadly defined. More recently, in light of the emergence of non-state terrorism and cyber warfare/espionage threats, the role of 5 Eyes has been upgraded and expanded to counter them. To that end, in the last decade NZ has received multiple visits from high-ranking intelligence officials from its partners that have dovetailed with technological upgrades across the spectrum of technical and electronic signals intelligence gathering. This includes addressing issues that have commercial and diplomatic sensitivities attached to them, such as the NZ decision to not proceed with Huawei involvement in its 5G broadband rollout after high level consultations with its 5 Eyes partners. More recently, NZ has been integrated into latest generation space-based intelligence collection efforts while the focus of the network returns to more traditional inter-state espionage with great power rivals like China and Russia (we shall leave aside discussion of the benefits that the GCSB and NZDF may receive from Rocket Lab launches of US military payloads but we can assume that they would be significant).

As routine practice, NZSIS and GCSB officers rotate through the headquarters of 5 Eyes sister agencies for training and to serve as liaison agents. Officers from those agencies do the same in NZ, and signals engineers and technicians from 5 Eyes partners are stationed at the collection stations at Waihopai and Tangimoana. GCSB and SIS personnel also serve overseas alongside 5 Eyes employees in conflict zones like Afghanistan and Iraq. While less standardized then the regular rotations between headquarters, these type of deployments are ongoing.

5 Eyes also maintains a concentric ring of intelligence partners that include France, Germany, Japan, Israel, and Singapore. These first-tier partners in turn use their respective capabilities to direct tactical and strategic intelligence towards 5 Eyes, thereby serving as the intelligence version of a “force multiplier” in areas of common interest. One such area is the PRC, which is now a primary focus of Western intelligence agencies in and outside of the Anglophone world. This common threat perception and futures forecasting orientation is shared by the NZ intelligence community and is not going to change anytime soon unless regimes like those in Russia and the PRC change their behaviour in significant ways.

Source: EFF Graphics

For its part, the PRC (the peer competitor with the most interest in New Zealand), has no such complex and sophisticated intelligence networks with which to avail itself. It has intelligence partners in North Korea, Russia, Iran and other small states, but nothing on the order of 5 Eyes. As a result, it is much more reliant on human intelligence collection than its rivals in the 5 Eyes, something that has become a source of concern for the 5 Eyes community and NZ in particular (as the supposed weak link in the network and because of its economic reliance on China, of which more below). While the PRC (and Russia, Israel and Iran, to name some others) are developing their cyber warfare and espionage capabilities, the fact is that the PRC continues to rely most heavily on old-fashioned covert espionage and influence operations as well as relatively low tech signals intercepts for most of its foreign intelligence gathering. NZ’s counter-espionage and intelligence efforts are focused on this threat.

That brings up the issue of trade. Rather than “sucking up” to China, the foreign minister was doing the reverse–she was calling for increased economic distance from it. That is because New Zealand is now essentially trade dependent on the PRC. Approximately 30 percent of NZ’s trade is with China, with the value and percentage of trade between the two countries more than tripling since the signing of the bilateral Free Trade Agreement in 2008. In some export industries like logging and crayfish fisheries, more than 75 percent of all exports go to the PRC, while in others (dairy) the figure hovers around 40 percent. The top four types of export from NZ to the PRC are dairy, wood and meat products (primary goods), followed by travel services. To that can be added the international education industry (considered part of the export sector), where Chinese students represent 47 percent of total enrollees (and who are a suspected source of human intelligence gathering along with some PRC business visa holders).

In return, the PRC exports industrial machinery, electronics (cellphones and computers), textiles and plastics to NZ. China accounts for one in five dollars spent on NZ exports and the total amount of NZ exports to China more than doubles that of the next largest recipient (Australia) and is more than the total amount in value exported to the next five countries (Australia, US, Japan, UK and Indonesia) combined. Even with the emergence of the Covid pandemic, the trend of increased Chinese share of NZ’s export markets has continued to date and is expected to do so in the foreseeable future.

Although NZ has attempted to diversify its exports to China and elsewhere, it remains dependent on primary good production for the bulk of export revenues. This commodity concentration, especially when some of the demand for export commodities are for all intents and purposes monopolized by the Chinese market, makes the NZ economy particularly vulnerable to a loss of demand, blockages or supply chain bottlenecks involving these products. Although NZ generates surpluses from the balance of trade with the PRC, its reliance on highly elastic primary export commodities that are dependent on foreign income-led demand (say, for proteins and housing for a growing Chinese middle class) makes it a subordinate player in a global commodity chain dominated by value-added production. That exposes it to political-diplomatic as well as economic shocks not always tied to market competition. Given the reliance of the entire economy on primary good exports (which are destined mainly for Asia and within that region, the PRC), the negative flow-on effects of any disruption to the primary good export sector will have seriously damaging consequences for the entire NZ economy.

That is why the Foreign Minister spoke of diversifying NZ’s exports away from any single market. The only difference from previous governments is that the lip service paid to the “eggs in several baskets” trade mantra has now taken on urgency in light of the realities exposed by the pandemic within the larger geopolitical context.

Nothing that the Labour government has done since it assumed office has either increased subservience to China or distanced NZ from its “traditional” partners. In fact, the first Ardern government had an overtly pro-Western (and US) slant when coalition partners Winston Peters and Ron Mark of NZ First were Foreign Affairs and Defence ministers, respectively. Now that Labour governs alone and NZ First are out of parliament, it has re-emphasized its Pacific small state multilateralist approach to international affairs, but without altering its specific approach to Great Power (US-PRC) competition.

The situation addressed by Mahuta’s speech is therefore as follows. NZ has not abandoned its security allies just because it refuses to accept the premise that the 5 Eyes be used as a diplomatic blunt instrument rather than a discreet intelligence network (especially on the issue of human rights); and it is heavily dependent on China for its economic well-being, so needs to move away from that position of vulnerability by increasingly diversifying its trade partners as well as the nature of exports originating in Aotearoa. The issue is how to maintain present and future foreign policy independence given these factors.

With those facts in mind, the Taniwha and Dragon speech was neither an abandonment of allies or a genuflection to the Chinese. It was a diplomatic re-equilibration phrased in metaphorical and practical terms.

News that Zhenhua Data, an arm of China Zhenhua Electronics Group, a subsidiary of the military-connected China Electronic Information Industry Group (CETC), maintains a list of 800 New Zealanders on a “Overseas Key Information Database” that contains personal information on more than 2.4 million foreign individuals, has caused some consternation in Kiwi political circles. The list of New Zealanders includes diplomats, politicians, community leaders, senior civil servants, defense and military officials, criminals, corporate figures, judges, B-list celebrities and Max Key. Complete with photos, information on these people is gleaned from public sources, particularly social media accounts, in what is one type of open-source intelligence gathering. Involving twenty “collection sites” around the world (including the US, UK and Australia) the larger global canvass is a broad first cut that extends to family members of prominent figures, upon which subsequent analysis can be conducted in order to whittle down to particular persons of interest in search of vulnerabilities, pressure points, sources of leverage, influence or opportunity across a range of endeavour.

However, there is a context to these efforts because Zhenhua Data is not the first company to compile records on “high value” foreign individuals nor is the People’s Republic of China the first or only State to (directly or indirectly) engage in this type of data collection.

Less than a decade ago, Edward Snowden revealed that US intelligence agencies and their Five Eyes counterparts shared information stored in a vast digital data bank obtained by bulk collection of personal data from US and foreign individuals and groups. Information for actionable intelligence “nuggets” was extracted via data-mining using computer algorithms and, increasingly, Artificial Intelligence (AI) technologies. Although the bulk collection program was later found to be illegal under US law, the practice of data-mining has continued in private and public sectors around the globe. Anyone who uses social media has their personal information stored and analysed by the providers of such platforms, who then sell that data to other firms. For profit-oriented actors, the objective is to tailor product advertising based on consumer preferences and characteristics. For governments the objectives can be security-related or oriented towards more effective public good provision, such as for public health campaigns. The overall intent is to get an actionable read on the subjects of scrutiny.

Added to this is the fact that intelligence agencies have long used network analysis as an intelligence tool, most recently in the fight against violent extremism. The larger purpose of network analysis is to connect dots on a large scale by establishing overt and covert linkages between disparate entities, both individual and collective. There are variations to network analyses, including what are known as “mosaic” and “spiderweb” tracing processes. Uncovering linkages helps futures forecasting because it can identify patterns of connection and behaviour, including funding sources, favours owed, personal ties, foibles and affectations. More recently, bulk collection, data-mining and network analysis have been wedded to facial recognition technologies that provide real-time physical imagery to records compilation efforts. This includes images of people in groups or in public spaces, which can be frame-by-frame analysed in order to help discern hidden or covert interactions between members of suspected networks as well as specific individuals.

None of this is particularly new or particular to the PRC. In fact, it is a routine task for intelligence agencies that is used as a first cut for more targeted scrutiny. Along with the Five Eyes partners, Israel and Russia have been pioneers in this field.

When taken together, open source data-mining coupled with social network analysis using a combination of advanced computer technologies creates a chaff/wheat separation process that allows further specific targeting of individuals for purposes important to the State doing the undertaking. In the case of Zhenhua Data, the list of targets includes those designated as “politically exposed persons” and “special interest persons.” Beyond general knowledge of “high value” individuals, the presumable objective of the exercise is to identify and locate hidden connections and personal/group vulnerabilities that can be leveraged for the benefit of the Chinese State. The application of specific designators provides an early filter in the process, from which more focused signals and human intelligence efforts can be subsequently directed.

Zhenhua Data is not alone in using its private business status as a front for or complement to State intelligence-gathering operations. The US firm Palantir, co-founded by New Zealand citizen Peter Thiel with seed money provided by the CIA venture capital arm In-Q-Tel, specialises in big data analysis, including software-based analytic synergies involving data mining, AI and facial recognition technologies. Palantir has an office near Pipitea House, Headquarters of the GCSB and SIS, and its local clients exclusively reside within the New Zealand Intelligence Community (NZIC).

The question, therefore, is whether Zhenhua Data is doing anything different or more insidious than what Palantir does on a regular basis? The answer lies in ideology, geopolitics, values and alliances. In New Zealand Palantir works for the Five Eyes network and local intelligence and security agencies. Its relationship with the spies is hand-in-glove, so it has a Western code of business conduct when dealing with confidential and private information and operates within the legal frameworks governing intelligence-gathering activities in Western democracies. Its orientation is Western-centric, meaning that its geopolitical outlook is driven by the strategic concerns and threat assessments of Western government clients. Although it may have a relationship with the New Zealand Police, it presumably is not involved in bulk-scale intelligence-gathering in New Zealand and what foreign data-mining and network analysis it does should serve the purposes of the New Zealand government. But the fact that Palantir and Five Eyes as a whole engage in mass data-mining and social network analysis is incontrovertible.

Zhenhua Data, in contrast, is believed to be a military-directed technology front. It is seen by Western intelligence agencies as an integral component of Chinese “sharp power” projection whereby so-called “influence operations” are directed at the elites and broader society in targeted countries with the purpose of bending their political, economic and social systems in ways favorable to Chinese interests. For the New Zealand security community, which as part of Western-oriented security networks has identified the PRC as a non-friendly actor in Defense White Papers and Intelligence Annual Reports, Zhenhua Data is not a benign entity and its intent is not good. Numerous academic and political commentators concur with this assessment.

The issue seems to boil down to whether data-collection activities are seen as good or bad depending on who does it, under what circumstances, and where one’s loyalties lie.

In other words, how one sees Zhenhua Data’s data-gathering efforts depends on how one feels about the PRC, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), authoritarian rule and China’s move towards achieving Great Power status in world affairs. If one views authoritarians, the PRC, CCP or Chinese foreign policy with suspicion, then the view will be negative. If one perceives them with favour, then the perspective will be positive. Conversely, if one views the activities of the Five Eyes network and partners like Palantir with suspicion, then Zhenhua Data’s list is of little consequence other than as a non-Western equivalent to Palantir and an indicator of possible things to come.

Ultimately that is a matter of values projected onto real world practices. Stripped of the value assessment, Zhenhua Data is doing what it has to do in order for the PRC to achieve its long-term strategic goals.

Sort of like Palantir, Chinese style.

This essay was originally published in The Spinoff, September 16,2020.

There report is below:

42 Group – Global Strategic Report Q1-Q2 2020 – v1.0 – Compressed Signed

Click here to read the full report (part two) and (part one).

Click here to read the full report (part two) and (part one).

It seems fair to say that we currently live in a problematic political moment in world history. Democracies are in decline and dictatorships are on the rise. Primordial, sectarian and post-modern divisions have re-emerged, are on the rise or have been accentuated by political evolutions of the moment such as the growth of nationalist-populist movements and the emergence of demagogic leaders uninterested in the constraints of law or civility. Wars continue and are threatened, insurgencies and irredentism remain, crime proliferates in both the physical world and cyberspace and natural disasters and other climatic catastrophes have become more severe and more frequent.

One of the interesting aspects to this “world in turmoil” scenario is the global surge in social protests. Be it peaceful sit-ins, land occupations, silent vigils, government building sieges, street and road blockades, pot-banging and laser-pointing mass demonstrations or riots and collective violence, the moment is rife with protest.

There are some significant differences in the nature of the protests. Contrary to previous eras in which they tended to be ideologically uniform or of certain type (say, student and worker anti-capitalist demonstrations), the current protest movement is heterogeneous in orientation, not just in the tactics used but in the motivations underpinning them. In this essay I shall try to offer a taxonomy of protest according to the nature of their demands.

Much of what is facilitating the current protest wave is global telecommunications technologies. In previous decades people may have read about, heard about or seen protests at home or in far-off places, but unless they were directly involved their impressions came through the filter of state and corporate media and were not communicated with the immediacy of real-time coverage in most instances. Those doing the protests were not appealing to global audiences and usually did not have the means to do so in any event. Coverage of mass collective action was by and large “top down” in nature: it was covered “from above” by journalists who worked for status quo (often state controlled) media outlets at home or parachuted in from abroad with little knowledge of or access to the local, non-elite collective mindset behind the protests.

Today the rise of individual telecommunications technologies such as hand-held devices, social media platforms and constant on-line live streaming, set against a corporate media backdrop of 24/7 news coverage, allows for the direct and immediate transmission of participant perspectives in real time. The coverage is no longer one sided and top down but multi-sided and “bottom up,” something that not only provides counter-narratives to offical discourse but in fact offers a mosaic landscape of perspective and opinion on any given event. When it comes to mass collective action, the perspectives offered are myriad.

The rise of personalised communication also allows for better and immediate domestic and transnational linkages between activists as well as provide learning exercises for protestors on opposite sides of the globe. Protestors can see what tactics work and what does not work in specific situations and contexts elsewhere. Whereas security forces have crowd control and riot training to rely on (often provided by foreign security partners), heretofore it was difficult for protest groups to learn from the experiences of others far away, especially in real time. Now that is not the case, and lessons can be learned from any part of the world.

Demonstrations in Barcelona (Catalonia), October 2019.

The literature on mass collective action often centres on what are known as “grievance versus greed” demands. One side of the continuum involves pure grievance demands, that is, demands for redress born of structural, societal or institutional inequalities. On the other side are demands born of the desire to preserve a self identified right, entitlement or privilege. In spite of the connotations associated with this specific choice of words, greed demands are not necessarily selfish nor are grievance based protests always virtuous. For example, greed demands can involve respect for or return to basic civil liberties as universal human rights or demands for the preservation of democracy, such as in the case of Hong Kong. Conversely, grievances can often be selfish in nature. Thus, although the pro-Brexit demonstrations are construed as demands that politicians heed the will of the people, the underlying motivation is defensive and protective of a peculiarly defined form of nationalism. A particularity of the modern era is that although most of the protests are portrayed as grievance-based, a considerable amount are in fact greed-based and not always virtuous, as in the case of the Charlottesville white supremacy marches and anti-immigrant demonstrations in Europe.

Protests against economic policies and conditions have recently been seen in Chile, France, Ecuador and Iraq. Protests against centralised government control have been seen in Catalonia, Indian Kashmir and Hong Kong. Protests against authoritarianism, elitism and corruption have been seen in Lebanon, Russia, Venezuela, Bolivia, Haiti, Iran, Pakistan and Nicaragua. Protests against elitism are seen in the UK (over Brexit), and against state repression in Greece. “Othering” protests have occurred in the US, Italy, Hungary, Greece and South Africa, among other places. Interestingly, the majority of contemporary protests are not strictly economic (structural) in nature, but instead concentrate on superstructural factors such as the behaviour of government, restrictions on voice and representation and/or the vainglorious impunity of socioeconomic elites.

Often, such as in Chile, the protests begin as one thing and morph into another (starting out as protests against economic policy and conditions and then adding in protests against heavy handed state repression). The more new actors join the original protestors, the more likely the protests themselves will adopt a heterogenous or hybrid nature. That also extends to the tactics employed: while some protesters will choose passive resistance and civil disobedience as the preferred course of direct action, others will choose more confrontational tactics. The precise mix of this militant-moderate balance is determined by the prior history of protest and State repression in a given society (see below). The idea is to clear space for a peaceful resolution to the dispute with authorities, something that may require the use of confrontation tactics in order for authorities to accede to moderate demands. Remember: in spite of the language used, the protests in question are not part of or precursors to revolutionary movements, properly defined. They are, in fact, reformist movements seeking to improve upon but not destroy the status quo ante.

In recent times the emergence of leaderless resistance has made more difficult the adoption of a coherent approach to direct action in which moderate and militant tactics are used as part of a unified strategy (or praxis) when confronting political authorities. This is an agent-principal problem before it is a tactical problem because there is no core negotiating cadre for the protest movement that can coordinate the mix of moderate and militant actions and speak to the authorities with a unified voice and grassroots support. Under such conditions it is often difficult to achieve compromises on contentious issues, thereby extending the period of crisis which, if left unresolved by peaceful means, can lead to either a pre-revolutionary moment or a turn towards hard authoritarianism. That again depends on the society, issues and history in question.

Introduction of new actors into mass protest movements inevitably brings with it the arrival of criminals, provocateurs, third columnists and lumpenproletarians. These seek to use the moment of protest as a window of opportunity for the self-entered goals and use the protest movement as a cloak on their actions. These are most often the perpetrators of the worst violence against people and property and are those who get the most mainstream media coverage for doing so. But they should not be confused with the demographic “core” of the movement, which is not reducible to thugs and miscreants and which has something other than narrowly focused personal self-interest or morbid entertainment as a motivating factor.

The type of violence involved in mass collection action tells a story. Attacks on symbols of authority such as monuments and statues, government buildings or corporate entities general point to the direction of discontent. These can range from graffiti to firebombing, depending on the depth of resentment involved. Ransacking of supermarkets is also a sign of the underlying conditions behind the disorder. Destruction of public transportation does so as well. Attacks on security forces in the streets are a symbol of resistance and often used as a counter-punch to what is perceived as heavy handed police and/or military responses to peaceful protest. In some societies (say, South Korea and Nicaragua) the ability to counter-punch has been honed over years of direct action experience and gives pause to security forces when confronting broad-based social protests.

On the other hand, assaults on civilians uninvolved in security or policy-making, attacks on schools or otherwise neutral entities such as sports clubs, churches or community organisations point to either deep social (often ethno-religious) divisions or the presence of untoward elements hiding within the larger movement. Both protest organisers and authorities need to be cognisant of these differences.

In all cases mass protests are ignited by a spark, or in the academic vernacular, a precipitating event or factor. In Bolivia it was president Morals’s re-election under apparently fraudulent conditions. In Chile it was a subway fare hike. In France it was the rise in fuel prices that sparked the Yellow Vest movement that in turn became a protest about the erosion of public pension programs and and worker’s collective rights. In Ecuador it was also a rise in the price of petrol that set things off. In Hong Kong it was an extradition bill.

One relatively understudied aspect of contemporary protests is the broader cultural milieu in which they occur. All societies have distinctive cultures of protest. In some instance, such as Hong Kong, they are not deeply grounded in direct action or collective mass violence, and therefore are slow to challenge the repressive powers of the State (in the six months of Hong Kong protests three people have been killed). In other countries, such as Chile, there is a rich culture of protest to which contemporary activists and organisers can hark back to. Here the ramping up of direct action on the streets comes more quickly and involves the meting out of non-State violence on property and members of the repressive apparatuses (in Chile 30 people have died and thousands injured in one month of protests). In other countries like Iraq, pre-modern sectarian divisions combine with differences over governance to send protests from peaceful to homicidal in an instant (in Iraq over 250 people were killed and 5,000 injured in one week of protest).

Just like their are different war-fighting styles and cultures, so too are their different protest cultures specific to the societies involved.

Hong Kong protests, August 2019. Source: Studio Incendo.

The differences in protest culture, in turn, are directly related to cultures of repression historically demonstrated by the State. In places like Hong Kong there has been little in the way of a repressive culture prior to the last decade or so, and therefore the Police response has been cautious and incremental when it comes to street violence (always with an eye towards what the PRC overlords as well as Hong Kong public will consider acceptable). In Chile the legacy of the dictatorship hangs like a dark shadow over the security forces, who themselves have enjoyed a considerable degree of autonomy from civilian oversight in the years since the transition to democracy (in what can be considered, along with the market-driven macroeconomic policies that favour the dictatorship’s economic supporters, another authoritarian legacy). In places like Egypt the repressive response is predicated on belief in the utility value of disproportionate force: any demonstration, no matter how peaceful, is met with degrees of (often extra-judicial) lethality so as to serve as a lesson and set an example for others.

The way in which state security organisations respond to protests is also a function of the degree of security sector coherence. Issues such as inter-service rivalries, factional disputes within the armed services, different perspectives on civil-military relations and standards of professional autonomy all factor into if and how those charged with the management of organised violence will respond to differentiations types of protest.

It is therefore in the dialectic between social protest and State repressive cultures where the physical-kinetic boundaries of collective mass action are drawn. Some societies are restrained or “polite” and so too are their notions of proper protest. In others, the moment for restraint ends when protests begin.

Underlying different approaches to contemporary protests is the issue of consent and toleration, or more precisely, the threshold of of consent and toleration. Basically popular consent is required for democratic governance to endure and prosper. Consent is given contingently, in the expectation that certain material, social and political thresholds will be met and upheld by those who rule. When the latter fail to meet or uphold their end of the bargain, then consent is withdrawn and social instability begins. Although it is possible for consent to be manipulated by elites, this is a temporary solution to a long-term dilemma, which is how to keep a majority of the subjects content with their lots in life over time?

Contingent mass consent also depends on a threshold of toleration. What will people tolerate in exchange for their consent? The best example is the exchange of political for economic benefits in dictatorships: people give up political rights in order to secure material benefits. But the threshold of toleration is often fragile and unstable, especially when grievances have been festering for a time or demands have repeatedly gone unmet. When that is the case the spark that precipitates the withdrawal of mass contingent consent can be relatively minor (say, defeat by a national football team in a World Cup or the assassination of an innocent by the security forces).

Each society develops its own threshold of contingent consent and toleration. What people will tolerate in Turkey is not the same as what people will tolerate in New Zealand (assuming for the purposes of this argument that Turkey is still a democracy of sorts). In fact, the very basis of consent differ from society to society: what Turks may consider acceptable in terms of material, social and political conditions may not be remotely acceptable to the French. Even outright authoritarians need to be conscious of the threshold of consent and toleration, if not from the masses then certainly from the elites that support them. But that only adds to their governance dilemmas, since pursuit of elite contingent consent can bring with it an intolerable situation for the masses. At that point the cultures of protest and State repression will come into play.

Ultimately, the current age of protest is the product of a global crisis of governance. Belief in the combination of market capitalism and democratic forms of representation as the preferred political-economic combination has eroded significantly. Rapid demographic and technological changes, increased income inequalities and other pathologies associated with the globalisation of production and exchange have undermined the notion that a rising tide lifts all boats under liberal democratic conditions. Authoritarians have increasingly filled the void both in countries that have democratic traditions as well as those that do not. Using the power of the State, they propagate fear-mongering and scapegoating between in- and out-groups in order to consolidate power and stifle opposing views.

The irony is that the turn to authoritarianism may be seen as the solution to the crisis of democratic governance, but it is no panacea for the underlying conditions that produced the current wave of protest and in fact may exacerbate them over the long term if protest demands are repressed rather than addressed. If that is the case, then what is currently is a global move towards reformism “from below” could well become the revolutionary catharsis than recent generations of counter-hegemonic activists failed to deliver.

That alone should be reason enough for contemporary political leaders to study the reasons for and modalities of the current wave of protests. That should be done in an effort not to counter the protests but to reach compromises that, if not satisfying the full spectrum of popular demands, serve as the foundation for an ongoing dialogue that reconstructs the bases of consent and toleration so essential for maintenance of a peaceful social order. It remains to be seen how many will do so.

“We have seen reports of the statement from the Sri Lankan Minister of state for defence, alleging a link between the the Easter Sunday terrorist attack and the March 15 attack in Christchurch,” she says. “We understand the Sri Lankan investigation into the attack is in its early stages. New Zealand has not yet seen any intelligence upon which such an assessment might be based.”

For further analysis, Radio New Zealand spoke to security consultant Paul Buchanan.

For More, see 36th Parallel’s RNZ Dispatch.

“I would take these claims with a very healthy dose of scepticism, and the reason for that is both ISIS and the Sri Lankan government have their own reasons to deflect from the local nature of the attack. ISIS of course is on the run and wants to claim things that are possibly beyond its scope at this point but make the event broader than it is and the Sri Lanka government wants to deflect from its failures of intelligence that facilitated this.

“More importantly, the amount of preparation and planning needed to undertake these coordinated simultaneous attacks simply is too long for it to have been attributed to the March 15 attacks. We’re a month out from the March 15 attacks, they were getting intelligence warnings … that people were stockpiling explosives before March 15th.”

Falling into retaliatory rhetoric over the attacks is dangerous, he said.

“We fall into the false narrative of the clash of civilisations,” he said.

“If we get into tit for tat attacks … we get into a cycle of violence that quite frankly has not occurred in the past. In the past, attacks are done randomly.

“The way the global media is covering it is falling into that trap and conservative media outlets around the world have already cast this as a ‘Christianity versus Islam’ thing when in fact … both Muslims and Christians are a distinct minority in Sri Lanka and they’re both oppressed by Buddhists.

“If I look at the methodology of the attack I think ‘well, the Catholic churches were attacked because they were incredibly soft targets and they were not defended … even in spite of the intelligence warnings to the government about the choice of targets.

“The attacks on the hotels are clearly designed to hurt tourism business in Sri Lanka, on which it depends very very strongly.”

For more, see 36th Parallel’s RNZ Dispatch.

RNZ contacted 36th Parallel’s principal Dr Paul Buchanan for his view, he said for too long intelligence agencies had been solely focused on Islamic extremists.

“The ball’s been dropped when it comes to white extremists,” Mr Buchanan said.

“Unfortunately with the obsession with Islamicists, it seems that Western intelligence agencies, to include those in New Zealand, simply discounted or were unaware of the degree to which white extremists have copied Al Queda and ISIS’ playbook when it comes to recruitment and the planning of events.”

Mr Buchanan was referencing the use of the internet, with several internet forums and communities dedicated to white extremists.

For more, See Radio New Zealand’s report.

Radio New Zealand sought the view of 36th Parallel’s principal, Paul Buchanan. He tells Philippa Tolley the problems that led to the Christchurch mosque attacks had nothing to do with technological capability and that the leader of the National Party is wrong.

For more, see Radio NZ’s report.

In the days, months and years ahead much soul-searching will be conducted about the social and political factors that contributed to the massacre of 50 people. Here we shall focus on two: the spread of hate speech via social media; and the intelligence failures that may have contributed.

With the proliferation of social media platforms during the last decade, there has been a steady increase in their use by extremist groups. Be it Wahabbist and Salafists calling for jihad, 9/11 conspiracy theorists or white supremacists, it has given them global reach in a measure never seen before.

This allows extremists in disparate parts of the world to instantly communicate and reinforce their views without having to be in physical contact. They can even plot acts of violence using encrypted platforms and the so-called “dark web”.

That is what is different today when compared to 20 years ago: the threat of decentralised, even autonomous extremist violence has increased commensurate with the emergence of social media outlets that allow them to disseminate their views.

This produces both an echo chamber and megaphone effect: not only do kindred spirits find common space to vent and practice their hate, against the perceived “other,” but more moderate, mainstream outlets begin to pick and emulate some of the language used in them. Language that was once socially unacceptable in most democratic societies has crept into mainstream social discourse, be it about immigrants, minorities, sexual minorities or indigenous groups.

Hate speech is increasingly normalised under the mantle of free speech, where the hate-mongers turn the tables on civil libertarians by claiming that their freedom of expression is being trampled by political correctness gone mad.

That, in turn, has crept into the rhetoric of politics itself, where mainstream politicians adopt some of the language and policy postures that once were only championed by a rabid yet marginalised political fringe.

One only need to remember the anti-immigrant language of certain politicians and the misogynist, homophobic and/or xenophobic utterances of assorted radio hosts and television personalities, to say nothing of the comments section of what used to be moderate political blogs, to see how the discursive trend has evolved here.

The problem is almost exclusively a democratic one. Authoritarian regimes censor as a matter of course and control the flow of information in their societies, so what can be seen and heard is up to the regime. Unless authorised or condoned by the state, extremists are not given space to air their views in public.

Paul G Buchanan Photo: SUPPLIED

Democratic societies uphold the right to free speech no matter how noxious it may be because it is exactly the unpopular views that need defending. But the principle of free speech never reckoned with the practice of social and mainstream media outlets using business models that are at least in part founded on the idea that there is money to be made in catering to extreme views.

If advertising can be sold on extremist sites and offensive speech is protected, then the bottom line advises that it is not for the media conglomerates to determine what is and what is not acceptable social discourse. That is for others to decide.

This is the public policy conundrum. Where to draw the line between free and hate speech? When does offensive speech become dangerous speech? One would think that the answer would be simple in that any calls for violence against others, be it individual or collective in nature, is what separates offensive from hate speech.

And yet to this day democracies grapple, increasingly unsteadily, with the question of what constitutes censorable material online.

With regard to whether there was an intelligence failure, obviously, there was because the massacre occurred. But the question is whether this was due to policy errors, tactical mistakes, some combination of them or the stealth of the attacker.

At a policy level, the question has to be asked if whether the intelligence services and police placed too much emphasis after 9/11 on detecting and preventing home-grown jihadists from emerging to the detriment of focusing on white supremacist groups, of which there are a number in Aotearoa.

Given a limited amount of resources, the security community has to prioritise between possible, probable and imminent threats. So what happened here? Where a small arsenal of weapons was amassed, improvised explosives made and a lot of planning done without the authorities made aware.

It is known that the security community monitors environmental, animal activist, social justice and Māori sovereignty groups and even works with private investigative firms as partners when doing so, so why were the white supremacists not given the same level of attention?

Or were they? The best form of intelligence gathering on extremist movements is via infiltration of the group by undercover agents (who can target individuals for monitoring by other means). Perhaps there simply are not enough covert human intelligence agents to undertake the monitoring of those that would do society harm. And what happens if the person is not an active member of the groups being monitored?

If this is the case, then no amount of intelligence policy reorientation or tactical emphasis would have prevented the attack. As the saying goes in the intelligence business, “the public only hears about failures, not successes”.

New Zealand, however, must “own” this terrorist attack. It happened in our community.

* Paul G Buchanan is the director of 36th-parallel Assessments, a geopolitical and strategic analysis consultancy.

Historically dependent on the funding, space, communications and cooperation of the NZSIS and GCSB  and without powers of proactive compulsion under oath, the office was as much devoid of real authority as it was a reward to individuals for service in other fields. In response to series of scandals and illegal behavior on the part of the NZSIS and GCSB, in recent years the authority and independence of the IGIS have been strengthened. However, these remain some distance away from the type of robust oversight associated with mature liberal democracies, and the Reference Group was created with the intention of expanding the number of interlocutors the IGIS interacts with when confronting the challenges of the job.

In democracies intelligence oversight mechanism vary. In some cases parliamentary or congressional committees exercise strong legal powers to compel intelligence agencies to proactively as well as retrospectively provide evidence or other material documenting their activities under penalties of law. These include institutional as well as individual sanctions, to include fines and jail terms, for those who do not comply. In other cases oversight arrangements are looser and less robust in terms of enforcement capability. Here, should they exist, oversight agencies are often located within the Executive branch and/or the intelligence agencies themselves, leading to a lack of independence and effectiveness when discharging the oversight function. That has been the case in New Zealand, where the IGIS remains as the sole oversight agency (the parliamentary select committee on intelligence and security having no real powers to impose demands on the intelligence community),one that in spite of recent legislative reforms remains relatively weak when it comes to ensuring compliance by the agencies under its jurisdiction. It is against that backdrop that the Reference Group was created.

In response to questions raised about the composition and purpose of the Reference Group, Dr. Buchanan has written an explanatory brief. It follows below.

The announcement that the Inspector General of Intelligence and Security (IGIS), Cheryl Gwynn, has convened an external Reference Group to discuss issues of intelligence agency oversight (specifically, that of the NZSIS and GCSB, which are the agencies under her purview) has been met with applause and controversy. The applause stems from the fact the Group is a continuation of her efforts to strengthen the oversight mechanisms governing New Zealand’s two most important intelligence collection and analysis agencies. The controversy is due to some of the persons who have accepted invitations to participate in the Group.

The Group is an unpaid, non-partisan collection of people with interest, expertise and/or background in matters broadly related to intelligence and security and their oversight. None are government employees, something that gives them freedom to speak frankly under the Chatham House rules established by the IGIS. The Group is a supplement to and not a rival of or substitute for the IGIS Advisory Panel, made up of two people with security clearances that have access to classified material and who can offer specific assistance on matters of operational concern. However, the Advisory Panel has had no members since October 2016.

The idea behind the Reference Group, which is modelled on a Dutch intelligence oversight counterpart, is to think laterally or “outside of the box” on matters relevant to intelligence oversight. Bringing together people from different backgrounds and perspectives allows Group discussions to gravitate towards areas of common concern, thereby eliminating personal agendas or extreme positions. And because the Group is made up of outsiders, it does not run the risk of becoming slave to the groupthink of agency insiders.

In contrast to the Advisory Panel, the Reference Group does not handle classified material nor discuss operational matters. Access to classified material or operational details is obviated by the fact that the Group’s focus is on the broad themes of accountability, transparency, organizational compliance and the balance between civil liberties (particularly the right to privacy) and the defense of national security as conducted by the lead intelligence agencies. These are matters of legality and propriety rather than operational conduct. And while similarly important, legality and propriety are not synonymous. Often what is legal is not proper and vice versa, and this is acutely the case when it comes to intelligence collection, analysis and usage. Since the IGIS does not oversea the NZDF and smaller intelligence “shops” such as those of the DPMC, Police, Immigration and Customs, the Group will only discuss issues relevant to oversight  of the NZSIS and GCSB.

Who are the members of the Group and why the controversy? The plurality of members are four public interest lawyers, three of them academicians and one an advocate for refugees. Two members are journalists. One is the Issue Manager for Internet NZ, one is the head of the NZ Council for Civil Liberties, one is a former Russian diplomat now serving as the Director of the Massey University Centre for Defense and Strategic Studies (CDSS), one is an economist who chairs Transparency International New Zealand and one is a private sector geopolitical and strategic analysis consultant.

Concern has been voiced about the presence of both journalists as well as the refugee advocate and the loyalties of the former Russian diplomat (although he has held positions at a US security institution as well as the NZDF-funded CDSS. The thrust of the contrary views about these and some of the other participants is that they are untrustworthy due to their personal backgrounds, professional affiliations and/or ideological orientations. An additional reason given for opposing some of the membership is that they have been strong critics of the SIS and GCSB and therefore should be disqualified a priori.

Others believe that the Group is just a whitewashing, window-dressing or co-optation device designed to neuter previous critics by bringing them “into the tent” and subjecting them to “bureaucratic capture” (whereby the logic of the agencies being overseen eventually becomes the logic accepted by the overseers or Reference Group interlocutors).

The best way to allay these concerns is to consider the IGIS Reference Group is as an external focus group akin to a Town Hall meeting convened by policy-makers. Communities are made of people of many persuasions and many viewpoints, and the best way to canvass their opinions on a broad range of subjects is to bring them together in a common forum where they can debate freely the merits of any particular issue.  In the case of the Reference Group the issue of intelligence agency oversight and, more specifically, matters of institutional and individual accountability (both horizontal and vertical, that is, vis a vis other government agencies such as the judiciary and parliament, on the one hand, and vis a vis the government and public on the other); transparency within the limits imposed by national security concerns; and the juggling of what is legal and what is proper, are all set against the backdrop of respect for civil liberties inherent in a liberal democracy. These are complex subjects not taken lightly by those involved, all of whom have track records of involvement in the field and who, given the terms of reference and charter of the Group, are acting out of a sense of civic duty rather than for pecuniary or personal gain.

The IGIS does not need political or agency authorisation to construct such a Group, which has no statutory authority or bureaucratic presence. As a vehicle for interest intermediation on the subject of intelligence oversight, it serves as a sounding board not for the IGIS but for the people on it. In that light, the IGIS has called the Group’s discussion a “one-way street” where participants air their informed opinions about agenda items agreed to in advance and in which the IGIS serves as a discussion moderator and takes from it what she finds useful. Expected to meet two or three times a year over tea and coffee, the Group is not likely to tax the Treasury purse and could well deliver value for dollar in any event.

Critics of this exercise and other forms of interest intermediation or external consultation betray their closet authoritarianism because such concertative vehicles are mainstays of policy-making in advanced liberal democracies. Be it the tripartite wage negotiation structures bringing representatives of the State, labour and capital together (even at the regional or local level), to consultative boards and other social partnership vehicles that connect stakeholders and decision-makers in distinct policy areas, the use of interest intermediation is an integral feature of modern democratic regimes (for an example of the breadth of issues addressed by intermediation vehicles, see Kate Nicholls, Mediating Policy: Greece, Ireland and Portugal before the Eurozone Crisis. London: Routledge, 2015.). To argue against them because of who is represented or because they are seen as inefficient talkfests that are a waste of taxpayer money is just a cloak for a desire to silence broad public input and dissenting views in the formulation of public policy. That may have been the case under the previous government but no longer is the case now.

Critics of this exercise and other forms on interest intermediation or external consultation betray their closet authoritarianism because such concertative vehicles are mainstays of policy-making in advanced liberal democracies. Be it the tripartite wage negotiation structures bringing representatives of the State, labour and capital together (even at the regional or local level), to consultative boards and other social partnership vehicles that connect stakeholders and decision-makers in distinct policy areas, the use of interest intermediation is an integral feature of modern democratic regimes. To argue against them as inefficient talkfests that are a waste of taxpayer money is just a cloak for a desire to silence broad public input and dissenting views in the formulation of public policy. That may have been the case under the previous government but no longer is the case now.

One of the thorniest problems in a democracy is the question of what system of checks and balances keeps the intelligence community proper as well as legal. As the most intrusive and sensitive of State activities, intelligence collection, analysis and usage must be free from reproach on a number of grounds—conflicts of interest, partisan bias, foreign control, illicit activity or criminal behaviour, etc.—and must be accountable and responsive to the public will. The broadening of consultation intermediators between the NZ intelligence community and the public is therefore a step in the right direction, and for that reason the Reference Group is a welcome contribution to the oversight authority of the IGIS.

References: http://www.igis.govt.nz/media-releases/announcements/establishment-of-igis-reference-group/

http://www.igis.govt.nz/media-releases/announcements/reference-group/

Influence Operations.
Influence operations, also known as influence peddling, are normal and legitimate tools of states as well as non-state actors such as private firms, non- and international governmental organizations. They are focused on the old adage “how to win friends and influence people” in pursuit of organizational objectives, be these diplomatic, economic, military or cultural in nature. The purpose is to create a favorable impression of a state, firm or agency in the mind of a target entity, be it the general public or selected subsets of it, particularly key interlocutors (agencies as well as individuals) whose decisions impact on the fortunes of the influencing agent or organization.

Influence operations are the stock and trade of private sector lobbying and government outreach programs in foreign states. They include everything from wining and dining of potential business clients, partners or government decison-makers, providing transportation and accomodation to people of influence, staging cultural and artistic events, contributing to political parties and causes, organizing charities, creating education exchanges, donating goods and services, establishing media outlets and generally doing “favors” or good deeds in a target country, region or economic sector. The goal is to create a favorable impression of the influence peddler on the part of targeted entities and people in order to alter the narrative about the influencer in ways that are positive and profitable for it.

Influence operations are a well established part of foreign policy. Institutions like the Alliance Francaise, various US agencies and institutions like the Fulbright Commission, AID and Peace Corps, cultural promotion and friendship societies funded wholly or in part by foreign governments such as Confucious Institutes or Jewish Councils, business associations like the NZUS Council and American Chambers of Commerce–all of these organizations are in the business of promoting home country interests via various methods of exchange. The provision of developmental aid is another form of influence operation. A good example is China’s “checkbook diplomacy” in the South Pacific, where it provides no-or low-interest developmental loans to island states or gifts infrastructure projects to recipient countries as gestures of goodwill. The list of entities and countries that engage in influence peddling is not limited to powerful states or large business interests, and the cumulative impact of their operations is significant in shaping local perceptions of the international order.

Influence operations are most often overt in nature. However, there are instances when they may be used covertly to good effect. Russian use of social media to influence the tone of US campaign coverage (by among other things, placing political adverts and event invitations on platforms like Twitter and Facebook) is a classic instance of attempting to alter the narrative in order to influence the backdrop and lead-up to the elections. The use of so-called “disinformation campaigns,” in which false news stories are seeded throughout social and mainstream media outlets, is one prominent form of covert influencing (as well as giving birth to the phrase “fake news”).

The limits on influence operations are determined by local statutory and regulatory frameworks governing the domestic behavior of foreign agents. Some countries have relatively loose rules governing the activities of foreign influencers while others adopt more restrictive approaches to what can aand cannot be done by foreign agents on domestic soil. This includes what is acceptable when it comes to permissable monetary rewards, exchanges in kind or other forms of inducements provided by influence peddlers to others. In some South Pacific countries, decision-makers expect to be compensated for their time and interest in an influencer’s pitch regardless of the outcome. However, what is seen as koha or tribute in one context is seen as bribery in others, so influence operators must be keenly aware of where local mores draw the line at what is legal or illegal, legitimate or illegitimate when it comes to exchanges of favors.

Targeted Intervention.
Targeted intervention is a more contentious subject but in reality is just an extension of influence operations. Whereas influence operations focus on “softening up” targeted entities by altering general narratives about the influencer in ways that are more favorable to it, targeted intervention concentrates on securing specific outcomes within a targeted entity. This can be done by placing people in key decision-making positions, planting stories in compliant media or putting money into causes or individuals with the intent of securing a desired outcome in their fields of influence. Targeted interventions are conducted by businesses as well as political actors and state agencies.

Targeted interventions can be done overtly or covertly. Placing people in political parties with the intent of having them elected into office is one example of overt targeted intervention, unless the loyalities or political objectives of the person are disgusied or hidden. Donating to election campaigns is another overt form of intervention. Placing people in targeted businesses or public agencies, or engaging in third party financing of negative (or positive) advertising campaigns, are covert forms of intervention in specific fields of endeavour.

Targeted intervention becomes contentious when it is done by foreign actors, particularly states but to include businesses, in order to advance their agendas vis a vis a a sovereign entity. This has been a subject fo considerable concern in the South Pacific, where commerical interests in extractive industries have been accused of intervening covertly using both coercive as well as financial means to disrupt opposition to their activities and to secure favorable environmental, health and safety regulations from local government in spite of that opposition.

Here again, Russian involvement in the 2016 US elections is illustrative. Russian intelligence is alleged to have hacked into the email servers of the Democratic presidential candidate and Democratic National Committee. Selected emails from these accounts were bundled with fake emails purportedly from the same authors and delivered to the whistle-blowing organization Wikileaks, which promptly published them. These were then picked up by mainstream media outlets in the US and covered extensively in the weeks leading up to the November ballot. The furore over the content of the emails gave ammunition to the Republicans and put the Democratic candidate on the defensive. Although it is unclear to what extent the negative cobverage of the email “scandal” contributed to the Democrat’s defeat, with the margin of victory boiling down to 60,000 votes (out of 130 milliion cast) in two swing states, it is possible that the targted intervention by Russian hackers had a role to play in the outcome.

Even more directly, US intelligence has alleged that the Russians also attempted to tamper with elexctronic balloting in 21 states. These efforts were thwarted by US counter-intelligence measures and led to quiet threats of reprisals, but the larger point is that the attempted manipulation of  ballots by the Russians is a clear example of targeted intervention.

To be fair, the US has a long history of targeted interventions in foreign countries, up to an including electoral manipulation and material support for insurrections and coups d’etats. The point here is to stress that many forms of targeted intervention fall far short of these extreme measures and in fact often preclude such extremes from happening.

Intelligence gathering.
Intelligence gathering is the process of acquiring information on targeted entities without their knowledge or consent. This can occur overtly or covertly and is conducted by private agencies as well as governmental organizations and states. The purposes of intelligence gathering are to determine intent, motivation, patterns of behaviour, organizational charcteristics and capabilities, resource bases and Open source intelligence gathering such as that provided by 36th Parallel Assessments uses public records, secondary sources, personal interviews and scholarly analyses to provide indepth  appraisals of specific situations. Open source intelligence gathering is also conducted by state intelligence agencies, think tanks, research institutes, and a variety of international, governmental and non-governmental organications. For example, economic and political officers in embassies spend most of their time tasked with drawing up assessments of current events in their host countries.

Covert intelligence collection is the use of surreptitious means to gather sensitive information about target entities. The targets can be military, diplomatic, economic or social in nature (say, family dynamics within dynastic regimes). Covert intelligence takes three main forms: technical intelligence (TECHINT) gathering (e.g. thermal imagery, acoustic, radar and seismic monitoring; signals intelligence (SIGINT) gathering (e.g. phone wiretaps, computer hacking, fiberoptic cable “bugging,” telemetry intercepts, decryption programs); and human intelligence (HUMINT) gathering (where human agents are sent into the field to gain both startegic and tactical insight into the behaviour of targeted entities as well as provide context to them). HUMINT comes in two forms: official cover, where the intelligence agents is provided official protection (“cover”) via embassy or other governmental affiliation formalized in the issuance of a diplomatic passport (thereby granting some level of immunity from criminal prosecution): and non-official cover (NOC), where the intelligent agent operates outside of the protections of diplomatic representation by posing as something other than a government agent, for example, as an academic, business person, charity worker, etc).

Be it overt or covert in nature, intelligence gathering is often conducted in concert with or in support of influence operations and targeted interventions.  This is because intelligence gathering hekps identify the best courses of action in any given context, including points of strength and weakeness in targeted entities. The closest overlap is between intelligence collection and covert targeted influence operations, where the former identifies the targets of intervention as well as the best means by which to achieve specific results. Conversely, influence operations tend to be more public in nature and due to their relative exposure to accusations of being potential fronts are often deliberately walled off from intelligence operations.

Conclusion.

In partnership with the Brazilian Air Force, the Brazilian aerospace giant Embraer has begun development of the KC390, a turbofan (jet) powered, extended range multirole medium airlift platform that expands on Embraer’s Defense and Security range of surveillance, ground attack and training aircraft. The move into military aviation (now 14 percent of Embraer’s global sales) was a natural course for a company that has strong history in civilian aviation, including commercial, corporate and agricultural aircraft. Founded in 1969 and headquartered in Sao Paulo, Embraer has over 19,000 employees and construction, maintenance, parts and service facilities in ten countries, including China and Singapore in the Western Pacific Rim. With over 8000 planes flown by 100 airlines and public and private entities in 90 countries, Embraer is the third largest aircraft manufacturer in the world.

Development of the KC390 is coincident with a critical moment for the Royal New Zealand Air Force. As part of a NZ$20 billion Defense upgrade over the next 15 years, the RNZAF is scheduled to replace its aging airlift capability in the early 2020s under its Future Air Mobility Capability project. The RNZAF capability is a medium lift component that consists of 5 Lockheed Martin C-130 Hercules utility platforms and 2 Boeing 757 transports. Some of the airframes on the C-130s are 50 years old, and both they and the 757s are unable to provide the payload or range requirements for a future independent airlift capability in New Zealand’s primary theater of operations (the South Pacific and Antarctica). Documents attached to the 2016 Defense White Paper speak of a “like-for-like” purchase of newer aircraft, but the RNZAF is particularly interested in procuring planes that carry heavier payloads over longer distances but can still land and takeoff on short unprepared airfields and which are flexible enough to perform a variety of roles including search and rescue, intelligence gathering and surveillance, air drop (paratroopers and pallets) as well as troop, helicopter, armour and general cargo transport. The key values are flexibility, durability, range, payload and cost.

Although the RNZAF as not expressed a preference for a particular platform, frontrunners for the airlift replacement have been widely discussed. These included an upgraded version of the Hercules, the C-130J “Super Hercules,” the Boeing C-17 and the Airbus A400M. Although the C-130J is a “like-for-like” replacement option, both the C-17 and A400M are heavy lift platforms that, while satisfying several of the RNZAF requirements cannot operate from short rough runways and are very expensive (over NZ$250 million each). Boeing has discontinued production of the C-17 so it will have to be purchased second hand, whereas the A400M has just entered service with the Royal Air Force and five other countries after years of delays, cost overruns and a fatal crash during testing. Other options, such as converting well-proven commercial aircraft like the Boeing 777 or Airbus 320 have also been mooted in New Zealand policy circles, but none of these have the multirole flexibility or durability of dedicated military aircraft.

Source: https://www.aereo.jor.br/2011/05/07/a-repercussao-do-kc-390/

One essential difference between the KC390 and the RNZAF’s current airlift options is that, because of its wing and fuselage fuel tanks, it has the ability to safely pass the current Point of No Return (PNR) on Antarctic flights and still be able to turn around and return to the New Zealand mainland on a load of fuel while carrying a 14 ton payload (with a maximum payload of 26 tons, five more than the Hercules). This requirement was made very clear in a 2013 near-disaster involving a RNZAF 757 low on fuel flying in bad weather on an Antarctic mission, and has become part of the RNZAF airlift tender specifications. Because it has a rough short field landing and takeoff capability, the KC390 has better options in the event it must make emergency landing on small landmasses (the C130J does not have the range to make a flight to Antarctica without aerial re-fueling). As part of its airworthiness certification the KC 390 has undertaken cold weather crosswind trial flights in Southern Chile as well as refrigerated hanger tests in the US, so the manufacturer has specifically focused on that aspect of the RNNZAF requirements.

Six countries have ordered 60 copies of the KC390. Argentine, Chilean, Colombian, Portuguese, other European and US suppliers, including Boeing, BAE Systems and Rockwell Collins, contribute to the manufacture of the aircraft. Boeing has a major service contract for the KC390 that extends to on-site servicing in the field. Among other countries, trials are being conducted by Canada and Sweden to ascertain the utility of the KC390 in a variety of roles. In November 2016 Embraer answered a RNZAF Request for Information (RIA) to replace the 5 C-130s with a similar number of KC390s, with a decision on the potential purchase expected in mid to late 2017.

New Zealand has a history of looking to the US and Europe for its defense needs, but the entrance of Embraer in the military aviation lift market provides it with a wider range of options than in previous procurement cycles, both in terms of platform design and unit costs. Given the Future Air Mobility Capability upgrades outlined as essential for the future performance of the RNZAF in the 2016 Defense White Paper and its addenda, expanding the NZ defense procurement horizon to South America may prove opportune and propitious. If nothing else, the supply chain ripple effect of procuring the KC390 opens a range of high technology value added opportunities previously unknown to potential stakeholders on both sides of the Pacific.

 This essay examines the subject of institutional lag after foreign policy realignment, using as an example the “core “ of the New Zealand intelligence community (the Security Intelligence Service (SIS), Government Communications Security Bureau (GCSB) and National Assessments Bureau (NAB)) after the end of the Cold War. The essay argues that New Zealand intelligence agencies have been slow to adapt to changes brought by the country’s foreign policy realignment in the mid 1990s as well as broader changes in the geopolitical and technological landscape.

The study focuses on the post-Cold War period because modern New Zealand’s intelligence community was born of and deeply influenced by the Cold War, which made the latter’s termination a milestone in the history of New Zealand intelligence community (NZIC). As will be elaborated ahead, how the New Zealand intelligence community responded to the changes wrought by the end of the Cold War and subsequent geopolitical shifts were not necessarily foresighted, seamless or responsive to the actualities of the moment. Instead it reflected the clash between old ways of viewing things, reliance on foreign intelligence partners (and their perspectives), as overlaid on the practical necessities of coping with new technologies, areas of focus, non-traditional threats and changes in foreign policy orientation.

The essay is organized as follows. The first sections explicate the concepts used as foundational stones of the argument. The essay then proceeds to brief case overviews before concluding with an explanation as to why things happened as they did.

 Institutional lag.

 Institutional lag refers to the time gap between external events or exogenous conditions and institutional (bureaucratic) adjustment or response. There is varying depth to the delay in organizational change given historical and contextual conditions both internal and external to the agencies involved.

Influenced by the work of Thorstein Veblen (1857-1929) on cultural lag, the term “institutional lag” was coined by philosopher and economist Charles Ayers in his Theory of Economic Progress (1944). “Ayres propounded a theory of “institutional lag” whereby technological changes inevitably kept economic technology one step ahead of inherited socio-cultural institutions. The process of Veblenian “evolution” Ayres envisaged was that technological changes were generated by spurts of instinctive inventive activity to innovate in technological processes but that the relatively slow, inherited socio-economic structures would be maladapted to these changes. With glacier-like gradualness, institutions would eventually respond to the new technology, but by the time they adjusted, the next round of inventive activity would have been skipping along further ahead, thus maintaining a permanent lag and thus incongruity between social structures and economic technology.”[1]

Used as a means of explaining the delayed response of firms to technological change in a cycle of perpetual catch-up, the concept has now been expanded to include slow or belated public bureaucracy responses to cultural, socio-economic, political and diplomatic change (as well as technological change). More specifically, policy shifts announced by governments as new initiatives often occur before the public agencies responsible for implementing them have undertaken the organizational reforms required to do so., which necessitates a process of institutional “catch up.”

Delays in bureaucratic responses to shifts in environmental conditions extend to foreign policy and security. This is particularly the case when nation-states have reoriented their international orientation due to external or internal factors (say, as the result of war, alterations in trade regimes or domestic political change). New Zealand’s response to the elimination of British export preferences in the early 1970s and declaration of its non-nuclear status in the mid 1980s are examples of external and internally motivated foreign policy realignment.

Foreign policy realignments can be brought about precipitously or after much deliberation. The former is often reactive to externalities whereas the latter is the product of calculations of longer-term costs and benefits. Either way, the institutional apparatus underpinning the old status quo has to adapt to the change in orientation. Given the inertial weight of institutional history and tradition, it may be something that takes time, especially if confronted with bureaucratic opposition within affected agencies.

Two further syndromes compound the problem of institutional lag following foreign policy realignment. On the one hand there is the issue of institutional rippling, whereby a government opts for realignment but does not involve agencies other than those most immediately and directly affected by and involved in the shift. Whereas the diplomatic corps and foreign affairs bureaucracy are integrally involved in implementing the details of foreign policy realignment, other affected government agencies are slower to follow and often do so in uncoordinated and uneven fashion. This is seen in military and intelligence agencies as well as those such as Customs and Immigration, which are often not fully involved in the decision-making process leading to a foreign policy realignment and yet have to engage organizational reforms in accordance with their own institutional traditions and structures that may not easily follow the dictates of diplomats or the pet projects of politicians.

That brings into play the second syndrome, that of institutional “depth.” Institutional depth refers to the historical legacies of institutional tradition and practice. Some public agencies, such as the police and the military, have long traditions and standards of practice that often date to the days of independence or state foundation. Others, such as agencies involved in the oversight and regulation of information technology and telecommunications, are relatively new to the scene and do not have the accumulated “weight” of institutional mores and practices to deal with when confronting significant change in their operating environments.

Institutional rippling in response to policy realignment often begins with agencies directly involved in the transition and “newer” agencies lacking in relative institutional depth, which are then followed by agencies less directly involved in the realignment decision and/or which have greater institutional depth. The overall effect is that institutional lag becomes a process as well as a distinct organizational phenomenon, with some agencies suffering less institutional lag than others depending on the level of involvement in implementing the realignment and the degree of institutional depth encountered in each.

To summarise: Significant change in a nation’s foreign relations often leads to a process of institutional lag that is determined by the relative institutional depth and degree of involvement of the agencies affected. Front-line agencies such as foreign affairs ministries and recently created agencies with connections to priority aspects of foreign relations may undertake immediate organizational reforms in response to the policy shift, but other agencies, including security and intelligence agencies, may lag behind in reorienting their institutional gaze as well as their internal conformation.

Foreign policy realignment.

 Foreign policy realignment refers to a shift in a nation-state’s geopolitical and diplomatic relations. It can be the product of internal factors such as political regime change or an alteration in government perspectives on global affairs, or it can be the consequence of changes in the external environment such as the beginning or termination of conflict, the emergence of new actors, markets or areas of resource contestation, diplomatic shifts by allies or enemies, and more.

Foreign policy realignments may be sudden and/or forced upon states or they may be the product of lengthy deliberation. The end of the Cold War is an example of an external event that produced rather quick foreign policy realignments on the part of many states, while New Zealand’s decision to broaden its trade relations in the mid 1990s is an example of an internally-directed foreign policy realignment that was deliberate and measured in light of systemic changes in the international environment over the previous decade.

Foreign policy realignment does not come easily. Whether they are consulted in advance or not, government agencies must adapt to the change in posture. This can well involve significant and discrete organizational and policy changes as well as alterations in their relationship with private sector and public interest groups, some of which may be resistant to change.

The end of the Cold War illustrates the reality of institutional lag in the wake of foreign policy realignment. Although the international community first shifted from a tight bipolar to a unipolar system, then to a loose multipolar configuration, many defense and security organizations, to include intelligence agencies on both sides of the Berlin Wall, continued to view the world and organize themselves according to Cold War precepts. As this proved inadequate for confronting the new security and intelligence challenges of the 1990s and 2000s, only then did military and intelligence agencies begin to undertake the organizational, doctrinal and perspective changes required in order to do so. This slow and reactive response to changing global externalities was evident in the New Zealand intelligence community.

Issue Linkage.

 Issue linkage in international relations refers to the tying together of two or more foreign policy concerns in a “holistic” approach to bilateral and multilateral relations. During the Cold War the most important example of issue linkage was that of trade and security, whereby security partners on both sides of the ideological divide traded preferentially with each other, thereby reinforcing their alliance commitments.

After the Cold War there was a move to uncouple trade and security. This was primarily due to two factors, these being the loosening of security alliances in a unipolar security environment dominated by the United States and the globalization of production, communications and exchange connected by international commodity chains. It was believed that security and trade relations could be uncoupled and dispersed across a wider array of partners, thereby avoiding undue dependence on any one of them (Buchanan and Lin 2006).

They key to success of this new paradigm was to ensure that the new trade and security relationships were not juxtaposed in a contrary or contradictory manner (say, by attempting to trade with a state at war while maintaining security relations with its main antagonist). So long as that did not occur, states were free to loosen the linkages between their trade relations and national security. As shall be discussed below, this was the dilemma posed to New Zealand after its foreign policy realignment in the mid-1990s.

 The New Zealand Intelligence Community (NZIC).

This essay focuses on the three “core” intelligence agencies in New Zealand, the Security Intelligence Service (SIS), Government Communications Security Bureau (GCSB) and National Assessments Bureau (NAB, formerly titled the External Assessments Bureau), which is part of the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet (DPMC). There are a number of other agencies that serve as intelligence collection and analysis units. This includes the Officials Committee for Domestic and External Security Coordination (ODESC), which coordinates assessments and responses to a wide range of potential threats ranging from natural disasters to cyber warfare. The New Zealand Defense Forces have military intelligence branches in all three services (Army, Navy and Air Force) as well as military intelligence units (Directorate of Defense Intelligence and GEOINT) serving the NZDF as a whole. These agencies, especially the service branch intelligence units, produce tactical intelligence in areas in which the NZDF operates or from where armed threats to New Zealand interests may originate.

Pipitea House, Home of the GCSB, SIS and NAB.

The GCSB is a signals (SIGINT) and technical (TECHINT) intelligence gathering agency that is part of the Anglophone 5 Eyes or Echelon alliance. Its primary focus is foreign intelligence collection but in specific circumstances and increasingly as of late it can undertake domestic SIGINT and TECHINT work in a “partner” role at the behest of other New Zealand government agencies (such as the Police or Customs). The SIS is responsible for domestic intelligence gathering, counter-intelligence operations and foreign human intelligence collection. It also has a “hand in glove” relationship with other New Zealand security agencies when the occasion warrants. The NAB is the ultimate recipient of intelligence streams from all of the NZIC, where it prepares assessments for the Prime Minister within the confines of the DPMC.

The terrorist attacks of 9/11 produced a proliferation of intelligence “cells” in a host of New Zealand public agencies. New Zealand Police, Immigration New Zealand, the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Enterprise, New Zealand Customs Service, and Treasury have their own specialized units. There are also interagency intelligence cells such as the Counter-Terrorism Assessment Group (CTAG), Security and Risk Group (SRG), Intelligence Coordination Group (ICG), and the National Assessments Committee (NAC), with the intelligence from all of these agencies as well as the SIS and GCSB flowing to the NAB, which in turn answers to the Cabinet Strategy Subcommittee on Intelligence and Security (CSSIS). In total, there are 12 intelligence agencies encompassed with the NZIC.

The question is whether the proliferation of these intelligence agencies has increased the accuracy, efficiency and reliability of the information obtained and processed by the New Zealand intelligence community. That raises the issue of how the New Zealand intelligence community sees the world around it, how it frames and assesses threats and how it responds to them. In order to determine this, mention must be made of the research methodology underpinning this analysis.

Methodology.

 The focus of this essay is on the SIS, GCSB and NAB because the first two are the lead human and signals/technical intelligence agencies in New Zealand and the latter is the ultimate intelligence assessment and evaluation unit in the country. The perspectives they have on international security matters and New Zealand’s geopolitical context constitute the core of the NZIC’s current assessments and future forecasts of risks and threats. To study what these are, the essay uses the secondary literature dedicated to the theme as well as summary diachronic analysis of the annual reports of the NAB, GCSB and NZSIS (where available), which postulate what are perceived as New Zealand’s most pressing security and intelligence concerns.

The summary analysis is diachronic in that it is both chronological and covers four separate governments: the National government led by Jim Bolger from 1990-1996, the Jenny Shipley-led National/New Zealand First government of 1996-99, the 5^th Labour government led by Helen Clark from 1999-2008, and the John Key-led National government of 2008-2015. Viewing core NZIC assessments over time and across governments allows us to determine if there were variations in threat perception under each or if they remained constant regardless of who was in power.

The Bolger Years.

 The Bolger government was confronted with significant shifts in its domestic and foreign environment. Domestically, it inherited and was charged with deepening market-oriented economic reforms initiated by its Labour predecessor. Externally, it witnessed the official end of the Cold War.

It focused on the former rather than the latter for two reasons. First, because the transition from the welfare state to a market economy was contested, controversial and polarizing, something that demanded the full attention of policy-makers as they embarked on efforts to “deepen” and institutionalize structural reforms. Secondly, because the collapse of the USSR and its Warsaw Pact allies was not seen as directly or fundamentally altering New Zealand’s (largely pro-NATO) foreign policy orientation, regardless of the tensions between New Zealand, France and the US over the issue of nuclear weapons testing and the presence of nuclear powered and armed warships in the South Pacific.

This had an interesting effect on the two main intelligence agencies. Under the terms of the 5 Eyes/Echelon signals intelligence alliance “reciprocity agreement” that saw it collect information on the Pacific region (and elsewhere when designated) in exchange for global intelligence collected from its larger signals partners, the GCSB basically served as the local storefront for them. It continued to focus its attention on targets of interest mainly to the partners rather than those of New Zealand itself. This included the communications of former Warsaw Pact members as well as Pacific and Eastern Asian nations and Iran in particular, with the emphasis placed on military, political and diplomatic communications. It included (and includes) monitoring of French communications in the Pacific.[2]

It was important for New Zealand to continue to support its Anglophone partners in the 5 Eyes/Echelon signals intelligence network because that was one of, if not the primary method of secure and trustworthy contact after the diplomatic and military fallout from New Zealand’s 1985 decision to adopt a non-nuclear policy (which had the effect of banning nuclear powered and armed vessels from New Zealand waters, which in turn led to the dissolution of the Australia-New Zealand-US (ANZUS) defense alliance). The SIS likewise maintained a special relationship with its Anglophone partners, but given its small size and domestic orientation this was not as crucial to alliance relations as was the reciprocity agreement within 5 Eyes.

However, when the Berlin Wall fell the SIS was left without a mission. Its primary focus was (and is) domestic espionage, and in the Cold War period that meant identifying reds under beds. With that concern removed, the SIS was hard pressed to justify its existence beyond assisting the Police on criminal matters, at least when it came to domestic intelligence gathering and counter-espionage (since the thrust of SIS counter-espionage efforts during the Cold War were directed at Soviet intelligence gathering activities in New Zealand and, in the wake of the Rainbow Warrior bombing by French operatives in Auckland harbor, on French clandestine activities in the South Pacific).

The SIS assigned itself the task of uncovering new domestic threats, and fortuitously for the agency this was provided by the move to market-driven economics. Besides an ongoing interest in criminal enterprise, opponents to the market-oriented policy shift became the new focus of domestic intelligence concern. These came in the form of unionists, environmentalists, human rights, fair trade and social welfare activists, community organisers, Maori separatists, anarchists and other domestic Left activists unconnected to the former Soviet Union and its satellites.

The trouble for both spy agencies was that with the end of the Cold War the ideological conflict between East and West largely died, especially with the adoption of capitalist economics by former communist countries such as the People’s Republic of China and Vietnam. This meant the end of “exporting” revolution by supporting indigenous Left groups, particularly those who advocated armed struggle. As for the French, the arrest, trial and conviction of two French agents over the Rainbow Warrior bombing signaled the downsizing of French intelligence operations in New Zealand in exchange for improved diplomatic relations. The combined result meant that the SIS no longer had foreign-based espionage or subversion to be concerned about when it came to domestic intelligence and counter-intelligence operations.

The result was that threat assessments provided by the (then) EAB focused on domestic actors, regional instability and criminal enterprise. Little emphasis was placed on foreign conflicts further afield and little to no mention was made of terrorism beyond the potential for low-level violence on the part of domestic militants.

The Shipley Government.

 The first elected government under MMP, the Jenny Shipley-led National/New Zealand First coalition “deepened” market-oriented policies, the most significant being making trade the centerpiece of foreign policy and developing export markets in Asia, Latin America and the Middle East. This ran in parallel with further opening of the New Zealand market to foreign imports and investment. What this meant in practice was significant foreign policy realignment, arguably one that was built upon and yet more significant than those occasioned by the end of the special trade relationship with the UK and the declaration of nuclear free status.

Foreign policy otherwise ran in concert with the “independent and autonomous” stance favoured by both major parties, with continued emphasis on non-proliferation, disarmament and peacetime military operations (particularly regional conflict resolution, humanitarian assistance, and peace-keeping). But the dye was recast: henceforth New Zealand would put trade at the center of its foreign policy and it no longer would privilege the Anglophone world when it came to commercial relations.

There was no “issue linkage” between the shift in foreign policy and the orientation of the New Zealand intelligence community. Issue linkage is pursued in order to provide coherency in the approach to foreign affairs. The problem for New Zealand was that its intelligence orientation did not match the new trade-based approach to the international system. Instead, it remained focused on pre-existing domestic threats and the external preoccupations of its foreign partners.

The GCSB focus continued to respond to the strategic requirements of its 5 Eyes partners, especially the US and UK. It shared eavesdropping duties in the South Pacific with Australia and traded selected intelligence with France even as it monitored French military and diplomatic communications in the region. Emphasis shifted to include communications in failed, failing and rogue states and those of non-state armed actors. But the mainstay of its eavesdropping and intercepts were focused on South Pacific states, North and Southeast Asia, extra-regional diplomatic communications, international and non-governmental organizations and telemetry from non-5 Eye satellites that disclosed military, particularly naval, communications.

The SIS maintained the focus it had under the preceding government, to include monitoring of anti-status quo ideological activists, Aian criminal organizations, and foreign spy networks operating in New Zealand and the English speaking South Pacific. It’s foreign intelligence collection efforts centered on the South Pacific, specifically focusing on domestic sources of instability and the growing influence of extra-regional actors. Foreign terrorism was not a priority even though it began to impact on New Zealand’s major security partners. All of this was reflected in (then) EAB reports.

The Fifth Labour Government.

 The Fifth Labour government headed by Helen Clark looked to be serious about abandoning its Euro- and Anglo-centric view of the world and embracing the notions of trade internationalism, security multilateralism and a diplomatic independence marked by commitment to human rights, non-proliferation and disarmament, regional development in the South Pacific and environmental sustainability. This was evident among other things by its cancellation of a purchase order for F-16 tactical aircraft to replace the aging A4 fleet, which left New Zealand without a combat air wing. It reduced the defense budget across the board and ramped up the trade component of its foreign affairs bureaucracy as it moved to expand and deepen the initiatives begun under the Shipley government.

The NZIC perspective did not change significantly immediately after the Clark government was installed in 1999, although increased attention was given to international disarmament, non-proliferation and support for peace-keeping and military missions other than war. Both the GCSB and SIS continued a priority focus on instability in the South Pacific while tending to the requirements of foreign partners, on the one hand (GCSB) and the necessities of domestic espionage on the other (SIS).

9/11 changed that.

The unconventional attacks by al-Qaeda on New York and Washington DC, precipitated the global “war on terrorism.” The US opted for pre-emptive war on al-Qaeda, saber rattling at the so-called “Axis of Evil” and other rogue states, and started a war of aggression on Iraq. It sent out a call for solidarity and assistance to the international community, and given its traditional ties to the US, New Zealand could not refuse the request. The question for the Clark government was how to do so without betraying the Left wing of the Labour Party and other Left parties in Parliament (especially the Greens). The answer was found in image management and quiet diplomacy.

Security conservatives in the NZDF, MFAT, NAB and DPMC urged the Clark government to use the opportunity to finally repair ties with the US strained since the 1985 non-nuclear declaration. This extended to supporting specialized defense niche businesses based in New Zealand, but was primarily centered on improving bilateral military-to-military and intelligence links with the US as well as strengthening security training and cooperation agreements with Australia, the UK and other Western powers (including France).

For the intelligence community the impact was two-fold. The SIS re-directed its energies towards counter-terrorism, specifically in detecting so-called “home grown” jihadis who might be planning attacks on New Zealand soil as well as those who supported al-Qaeda and other Islamicist extremist groups financially or politically (such as via the use of non-profit organizations as fronts for extremist recruiting or for sending money to al-Qaeda affiliated NGOs). Later, under the Key government, this concern turned to the subject of so-called returning “foreign fighters, that is, New Zealand citizens and permanent residents who left to Middle Eastern war zones and were suspected of trying to return to New Zealand having been radicalized and trained by violent extremist groups like the Islamic State. This tasking extended to monitoring the activities of suspected Islamicists in the English-speaking South Pacific and became the dominant preoccupation of its domestic espionage program.

The problem with the sudden focus on domestic Islamic terrorists was that there were few to be found. This led to some awkward moments, such as when the 2005 SIS annual report claimed that the primary threat to domestic security were “home-grown” jihadis and al-Qaeda supporters, only to have the 2006 report, under a new Director, abandon the claim entirely in favor of foreign espionage on New Zealand soil (Buchanan, 2007). Likewise, there was a brief media frenzy about a New Zealand based plot to bomb targets in Australia to which the government replied cryptically (thereby fueling public speculation about local jihadis), but in the end not a single person was detained, much less charged for Islamicist-inspired terrorist offenses during the entire term of the 5^th Labour government, as well as that of its successor.

The SIS continued monitoring of non-Islamic domestic radicals, particularly Marxists, Anarchists, Maori separatists, environmental and animal rights activists. This culminated in the “anti-terrorist” raids of October 15, 2007 where 18 individuals fitting these descriptors (including one with pro-Palestinian sympathies) were arrested on grounds that they were part of an armed criminal conspiracy plotting to commitment politically-motivated violent acts against high profile targets (all terrorism charged were eventually dropped and only four were convicted and sentenced for firearms related charges).

It also increased its counter-espionage activities, as growing numbers of Chinese migrants brought with it a concern about PRC espionage activities in New Zealand. Although the SIS did not name the countries it believed were engaged in foreign espionage in New Zealand, successive annual reports indicate that it remained a primary concern for the duration of the 5^th Labour government. One effect of the focus on counter-terrorism and domestic extremism is that the SIS lost some of its ability to engage in South Pacific based human intelligence collection. This was particularly evident in its failure to anticipate the 2006 Fijian coup or the 2009 hardening of the military bureaucratic regime installed by it.

The GCSB also refocused its energies on the terrorist threat, but its role included using its assets in support of and supplying personnel to the US-led wars in Afghanistan and Iraq (Hager, 2011). GCSB involvement in locating, identifying and targeting al-Qaeda and Taliban “high value” individuals in Afghanistan and Pakistan occurred in spite of the government’s claim that New Zealand was only engaged in non-combat roles (a claim that it also used when questioned about New Zealand Defense Force deployments in Afghanistan and more recently Iraq).

The push to show concrete support for the war on Islamicist extremism made for a difficult juxtaposition. By the early 2000s New Zealand was firmly committed to expanding its commercial relations with Asia and the Middle East, yet some of the countries that it was working to establish deeper commercial ties with such as Pakistan and Saudi Arabia were hotbeds of violent Wahhabist and Salafist thought. The contradiction was evident in New Zealand signing bilateral education agreements with Pakistan and Saudi Arabia by which thousands of students from those countries were given visas to pursue university studies in New Zealand without any security vetting.

Moreover, the move to re-establish security ties with the US and its allies in the War on Terrorism brought with it the possibility of alienating Chinese economic and diplomatic interests that saw better New Zealand-US security ties as a threat to China’s growing role as a great Pacific power. Since New Zealand was the first Western country to sign a bilateral trade agreement with the PRC, the reaffirmation of its security relationship with the US placed New Zealand in a particularly awkward diplomatic position vis a vis the two rival powers, one that has a distinct possibility of becoming a “Melian Dilemma.” (Buchanan 2010 b)

The reassertion and extension of New Zealand’s security ties with the US counterbalanced the thrust of New Zealand’s trade-oriented foreign policy realignment away from its traditional sources of patronage and alliance. For the NZIC there was no contradiction inherent in the juxtaposition of an East-focused trade policy and a West-focused security policy and was, in fact, seen as having the best of both worlds (Buchanan 2010a). Even so, there was an increased awareness within the NAB that in spite of claims about New Zealand’s “benign” strategic environment, the country was increasingly exposed to the repercussions of foreign conflicts, something driven home by the deaths of Kiwis on 9/11 and in the 2002 Bali and 2005 London bombings perpetrated by affiliates of al-Qaeda (none of which were foreseen by the NZIC or its major allies). This forced the NZIC to focus priority attention on irregular threats originating or inspired from abroad, to include domestic sources of funding and recruitment for foreign extremism.

 The Key Government.

 The process of rapprochement between New Zealand and the United States came to fruition with the election of the John Key-led National government in late 2008. Key makes no secret of his affection for the US and was determined to overcome the final barriers to full restoration of bilateral security ties with it.

The task was accomplished with the signing of the Wellington and Washington Declarations in 2010 and 2011 respectively. These restored New Zealand as a first tier military partner of the US. In parallel, after a number of breaches and spy scandals, then the Edward Snowden leaks, the GCSB saw a series of systems and protocol upgrades designed to address the problem of cyber security while increasing its ability to engage in mass surveillance and hacking operations against targets of interest to the US and other 5 Eyes partners.

The GCSB was fully integrated into the 5 Eyes mass data collection schemes as well as providing technical support for US drone operations in the Horn of Africa, Arabian Peninsula, Afghanistan and Pakistan (Hager, 2011). Beyond that its targets include foreign diplomatic and commercial communications, notably those of neighboring Pacific states, diplomatic allies, trade partners, other friendly nations as well as international and non-governmental organizations, interest groups, charities and foreign regulatory agencies.

The SIS continued its attention on counter-terrorism, accentuating its focus on Muslim extremists (including so called foreign fighters and home grown jihadis) while continuing its long-standing interest in Maori separatists, Marxists of various persuasion and anti-free trade groups and individuals. As had occurred under the Fifth Labour government, the heightened concern with counter-terrorism continued to divert resources away from overseas human intelligence operations, particularly within the South Pacific.

One area that continued to grow in importance for the SIS was counter-intelligence operations. These are mainly directed at Chinese espionage, which includes economic as well as military-diplomatic targets. In concert with GCSB efforts to thwart Chinese and other foreign based cyber-espionage and theft, the SIS focus on counter-espionage became the fourth pillar of its institutional orientation (along with counter-terrorism, domestic political espionage and criminal investigations). Added to issues such as fisheries poaching, whaling, arms proliferation and people smuggling, these concerns comprised the bulk of the threat assessment packages delivered to the Prime Minister by the NAB.

In 2010 a reform process was initiated within the NZIC under the banner “one community, many agencies.” The ICG was created and along with the NAB and SRG was re-located in the same building as the GCSB with an eye towards improving information sharing and coordination between them. The SIS was urged to improve its coordination with domestic security agencies and other members of the NZIC in an age of globalized threats. Based on recommendations made in the 2009 Intelligence Agency Review commissioned by the State Services Commission (known as he Murdoch Review), the reforms were driven by the understanding that the NZIC was the product of historical legacies that included adoption of doctrines, precepts, perceptions and policies from foreign intelligence partners that led to a patchwork approach to intelligence gathering and analysis and some “tribal” outlooks on inter-agency dynamics. (Whibley 2014).

Notwithstanding these reform efforts, subsequent reviews of the GCSB and SIS found serious issues with legal compliance, organizational dysfunction and misunderstanding or uncertainty about specific responsibilities within the larger division of labour within the NZIC. Public revelations of these failings led to the creation of the Intelligence Review committee whose review and recommendations will be published in early 2016.

Conclusion.

The New Zealand intelligence community suffered some but not a particularly uncommon degree of institutional lag after the Cold War and the foreign policy realignment of the mid 1990s. Its priorities slowly changed over the 20 plus years that followed the end of the Cold War, but its core areas of interest remained largely unchanged. That was because it did not engage in issue linkage following the foreign policy realignment of the mid 1990s and basically followed the lead of its larger intelligence partners when it came to foreign intelligence priorities and assessments and, at their behest, added terrorism to its list of domestic intelligence priorities. It was slow to react to the threats posed by Islamic extremism and cyber warfare as well as the use of social media for untoward ends, but that was a common problem for all of its intelligence partners prior to 9/11 and the subsequent introduction of “smart” mass communication technologies.

Institutional lag in the New Zealand intelligence community is the product of five factors: over-reliance on foreign intelligence streams for information; subservience to allied intelligence requirements and priorities; limited autonomous signals and human collection capabilities; organizational sclerosis and misplaced focus (on the nature of domestic “threats”). The combination saw the NZIC respond reactively rather than proactively to the emerging threat environment in which it is located.

In addition, institutional lag in the SIS and GCSB appears to derive from three organizational pathologies: bureaucratic insulation, inertia and capture. Both agencies were until recently very insulated from outside scrutiny, to include that of the Ministers responsible for their oversight and direction. This allowed them to conduct their affairs and determine their priorities in relatively unchecked fashion, to include engaging in operations that stretched the boundaries of their legal charters. In part this was due, and in turn contributed to, bureaucratic inertia.

Bureaucratic inertia in the NZIC was characterized by collector bias, organizational complacency, operational redundancy (especially within the GCSB) and resistance to internal and external criticism, administrative change or outside advice. Much of this was rooted in organizational features dating back to the Cold War and recruitment patterns that favored a specific demographic. Until the mid 2000s both agencies were characterized by an “old boys” culture, with limited recruiting outside of pakeha (white European) males, many of who had previous military or police experience.

A partial exception is in the GCSB, which fields a significant number of translators. Because of the requirements for native or near-native fluency, recruitment in the GCSB tends to reflect the listening priorities of its 5 Eyes partners more so than those of New Zealand itself. That includes Farsi speakers as well as those who have command of Mandarin and Korean, which means that the recruitment base for translators extends beyond the traditional pool of European males with military or police experience.

SIS recruitment of Asians and Maori, while ongoing due to concerns about Asian based organized crime and Maori separatists, was expanded post 9/11 to include females and people of Middle Eastern descent. Although females are now a significant component of both the SIS and GCSB (over 30 percent in each agency), Maori, Pacifika and other ethnic minorities remain a very small percentage of these agencies’ staffs (New Zealand Herald, January 3, 2016). The same can be said for the NAB. More importantly, the overall mindset, again until very recently and perhaps extending to this day, was one that emphasized group cohesion and shared perspectives and logics that placed a career premium on “team players” rather than those who might challenge the status quo or rock the boat. Given the very small size of the NZIC (approximately 600 people, of which 500 work in the GCSB and SIS) this mitigated against substantive reform within it.

This organizational culture would not matter, or may not have been allowed to persist, had there been effective oversight of these agencies. But the contrary occurred (and still occurs). Rather than having Ministers and independent oversight agencies such as the Inspector General of Intelligence and Security (IGIS) of and Parliamentary Committee on Intelligence and Security (PCIS) effectively acting as overseers of the agencies that provided a check on their activities, the reverse occurred: ministers, IGs and parliamentary committees were essentially “captured” by the logic and expertise of the intelligence managers who ostensibly reported to them.

Given the limited scope of authority and powers made available to IGs and the PCIS (which excluded them from scrutinizing operational matters, among other things), this left them at the mercy of senior intelligence officials for information about agency activities. With such emasculated oversight that provided no counter-weight to what the agencies claimed to be in the legitimate national security interest, the ministers responsible for them (until this year the Prime Minister acting as Minister of Intelligence and Security) were left to their own devices when it came to critically evaluating intelligence assessments and operations (when they were aware of them). Again, this led to their bureaucratic “capture” by their senior intelligence managers and advisors, with Ministers having to take more on faith than knowledge that what the IC was doing was in fact legal, timely when it came to emerging threats and in the national security interest. This was as true for the NAB and other intelligence consumers within the government at large.

In practice the quid pro quo for government acceptance of bureaucratic capture by the IC appears to be the supply by the latter (specifically the SIS and GCSB) of politically sensitive domestic intelligence for partisan use by the government of the day. Again, until very recently in light of the Snowden revelations and Kim Dotcom scandal, both major parties seemed confortable with that arrangement, although recent evidence suggests that the Key government was particularly adept at using intelligence agencies for partisan purposes (Hager, 2014).

The combination of external dependency and internal conformity contributed the most to the NZIC’s institutional lag. Added to that was the significant depth of organizational culture and practice within the SIS and GCSB, which was resistance to change even after the 2010 reforms and which focused on either debatable domestic threats or the external concerns of New Zealand’s main intelligence partners.

This ran counter to the thrust of New Zealand’s mid 1990s foreign policy realignment, particularly with regard to its relations with China and a variety of Central Asian and Middle Eastern nations. That has left New Zealand in the unenviable position of straddling the fence when it comes to its trade and security orientation and partners, something that is arguably untenable over the long term given the divergence interests of and growing strategic competition between the larger partners (Buchanan 2010b).

2016 represents a potential watershed moment for the NZIC. An Intelligence Review will be published that is anticipated will recommend legal and organizational changes to the SIS, GCSB and perhaps other members of the NZIC. Two female lawyers now head the SIS and GCSB, and their tenures have been marked by more transparency and critical self-reflection than in previous eras. Efforts to broaden the recruitment base for the NZIC are underway within the limits of what secrecy and security allow.

It remains to be seen if any changes are made to the PCIS and the relationship between it and the NZIC, as well as that between the Minister of Intelligence and Security, the Commissioner of Security Warrants, IGIS and the agencies they oversee. They key to improving oversight and quality control mechanisms is to make them proactive as well as reactive in their scrutiny of agency operations and to give them powers of compulsion under oath (Buchanan 2014). Some measures have been taken in this regard with respect to the authority of the IGIS, but oversight currently remains thin at best.

The primary solution to the problem of institutional lag within the NZIC is to develop more autonomous priorities and capabilities. Although doing so in the context of the 5 Eyes system is difficult given alliance commitments, it is not impossible to add a New Zealand centric focus to signals and technical intelligence targeting that does not interfere with ongoing alliance priorities. Even more so, the SIS has the opportunity to redefine its role in a way that is more in line with its relatively limited capabilities, for example, by divesting itself of domestic espionage duties (to the Police) in order to concentrate on foreign human intelligence and counter-intelligence work.

For all the good intent of the 2010 reforms and proliferation of intelligence agencies and cells through government departments, it remains unclear if the intelligence gathering, analysis and assessment process in New Zealand has improved or been streamlined to the point of increased efficiency and accuracy of intelligence products. The 2016 Intelligence Review may help shed light on whether that is the case.

One thing is certain. If the NZIC is going to confront the security challenges of the 21^st century it will have to continue to adapt and reform. Only by doing so can it overcome the problem of institutional lag and the contradictions inherent in issue de-linkage. Because being small and distant is not a secure barrier to global threats, and be they foreign or domestic, the threat environment in New Zealand is constantly evolving and posing new challenges to those entrusted with its safe-keeping.

Endnotes.

[1] Anonymous correspondent Phillip H. quoted in Charles Hugh Smith, Institutional Darwinism: Adapt or Perish, www.oftwominds.com, February 18, 2010.

[2] The French Pacific Fleet is headquartered in Papeete and the French Pacific Army is headquartered in Noumea. Concern with French nuclear testing and instability in former French territories drove New Zealand’s interest in them.

References.

 Buchanan, Paul G. and Lin, Kun Chin (2006)) “Symmetry and Asymmetry in Pacific Rim Approaches to Trade and Security Agreements.” Asia-Pacific Research Universities Research Paper/36^th Parallel Assessments Working Paper.

https://36th-parallel.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Symmetry_and_Asymmetry_in_Pacific_Rim_approaches_to_trade_and_security_agreements-final1.pdf

Buchanan, Paul G. (2007). “A Change of Focus at the SIS,” Scoop.co.nz, February 27. http://www.scoop.co.nz/stories/HL0702/S00257.htm

Buchanan, Paul G. (2010a). “Lilliputian in Fluid Times: New Zealand Foreign Policy afterthe Cold War,” Political Science Quarterly, V.125, N.2: 255-279.

Buchanan, Paul G. (2010b). “New Zealand’s Coming Melian Dilemma,” Scoop.co.nz, September 14, 2010. http://www.scoop.co.nz/stories/HL1009/S00097/paul-buchanan-new-zealands-coming-melian-dilemma.htm.

Buchanan, Paul G. (2014). “Analytic Brief: A primer on democratic intelligence oversight.” 36^th Parallel Assessments, May 3, 2014. https://36th-parallel.com/2014/05/03/analytic-brief-a-primer-on-democratic-intelligence-oversight/

Fisher, David (2015). “Just how bad were our spies?” New Zealand Herald, November 6. http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=11541220

Fisher, David (2016). “Activist says SIS will struggle to recruit Maori as report reveals spy agencies are ‘old boys club’ that makes racist jokes,” New Zealand Herald, January 3. http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=11568617

Hager, Nicky (1996). Secret Power: New Zealand’s Role in the International Spy Network. Nelson, Craig Potton Publishing.

Hager, Nicky (2011). Other People’s Wars: New Zealand in Afghanistan, Iraq and the war on terror. Nelson: Craig Potton Publishing.

Hager, Nicky (2014). Dirty Politics: How attacks politics is poisoning New Zealand’s political environment. Nelson: Craig Cotton Publishing.

Hunt, Graham (2007). Spies and Revolutionaries: A History of New Zealand Subversion. Auckland: Reed Publishing.

Patman, Robert G. and Laura Southgate (2015). “National security and surveillance: the public impact of the GCSB Amendment Bill and the Snowden revelations in New Zealand,” Intelligence and National Security, V.30 (Online version published 20 October 2015).

Smith, Charles Hugh (2010).“Institutional Darwinism: Adapt or Perish,” www.oftwominds.com, February 18.

Whibley, James (2014). “One Community, Many Agencies: Administrative Developments in New Zealand’s Intelligence Services,” Intelligence and National Security, V.29, N.1: 122-135 (2014).

http://www.nzsis.govt.nz/publications/annual-reports/

http://www.gcsb.govt.nz/publications/annual-reports/

http://www.nzic.govt.nz/about-us/nab/

http://www.nzic.govt.nz

http://www.gcsb.govt.nz/assets/GCSB-Compliance-Review/Review-of-Compliance.pdf

An edited version of this essay appears in R. Patman, ed., New Zealand and the World. Singapore: World Scientific Publishing, 2016.