KEY POINTS:
For the past 20 years political analysts have seen the Western Pacific as either a crescent of instability, or an arc of crisis. It is therefore disturbing that New Zealand authorities apparently cannot forecast the political storm clouds identified by regional specialists, or that its military response to violent events in the Western Pacific has been belated and seemingly ad hoc.
There appears to be a lack of intelligence warning and diplomatic foresight in a region where New Zealand has primary responsibility within Western security networks.
In the past decade the Cook Islands, Fiji, Indonesia, Niue, Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, Tonga, Tahiti, and further afield, East Timor, have evidenced political unrest, with several erupting into armed violence. Barely disguised discontent simmers below the surface in Vanuatu, and Samoans on both side of the colonial boundary fully understand that all is not politically well in their island state(s).
The question has to be asked: Where is New Zealand's reaction to the clear and present threat on its immediate horizon?
The answer is sobering - little evident, and then only after collective violence has erupted. New Zealand's nation-building efforts in the crescent of instability exist but are ineffectual.
There is a foreign policy commitment to help but a practical impossibility to do so. Similarly, New Zealand's intelligence services appear unaware of the political rumblings common in post-colonial island states.
In an age of globalised telecommunications, monarchs and despots in small, isolated kingdoms are increasingly vulnerable to the ideological countercurrents swirling around them, as the arbitrary nature of their rule becomes exposed by global comparison.
That spells the inevitability of their fall. But why do New Zealand's diplomatic and security services not foresee and forestall regional political crises? Timely application of diplomatic pressure and proactive incentives for political reform can do wonders in countries at times when the structure of governance is in dispute.
In spite of its primary human intelligence-gathering responsibility for the Western security alliance in the southwestern Pacific (a role it shares with France), New Zealand continues to be surprised by political developments. New Zealand does not need a legion of spies to do the job of assessing local political sentiment and conveying it to decision-makers in Wellington. Diplomats should be doing this as a matter of course, which means that the syndrome of being repeatedly caught off-guard by grassroots demonstrations and revolts is due to diplomatic and security representatives not exhausting their capabilities or mandate on the ground.
It does not need the Echelon electronic eavesdropping system to ascertain that the political mood in Honiara is tense and sour, or that resentment against the newly crowned Tongan King was coalescing into organised collective action with violence-prone overtones.
This would not be a problem if New Zealand had ample military resources to throw at crises after they began, and a voting public willing to engage in neo-colonial ventures in places of limited strategic interest to the bigger players on the world scene. The problem arises because New Zealand does not have the military resources to continually put out regional fires while it is engaged in other multi and bi-lateral missions abroad (such as its commitments in Afghanistan and the ill-fated UN observer mission in South Lebanon). And it has a domestic population that is singularly disinterested in foreign affairs other than if it involves a personal OE.
That is troubling because Asian countries, particularly the People's Republic of China, have detailed plans for extending their (blue water) influence into these states regardless of the nature of local governance.
The growing Asian presence is a challenge to our role in the Western Pacific. Thus, prudent foreign policy requires development of a regional geopolitical perspective that offers short, medium and long-term contingency planning for political unrest within New Zealand's immediate region.
We have to ask under what rules of engagement, for how long and with what resources does the government send its soldiers and police into the Pacific arc? What exactly does it propose when it sends troops to re-establish law and order in places where the very legitimacy of the ruling elite is in question?
What are the fire-control regulations governing armed New Zealand government agents on these supposed peacekeeping missions, and what relationship do they have to those under which the other intervention forces operate?
Who commands New Zealand troops while on such ventures? If operating as stand-alone forces, what is the co-ordination with other intervention units? The questions are many and the answers are few when it comes to our stance on regional instability
One response to the issue might be to draw up a New Zealand military regional contingency force ready to be deployed within 48 hours' notice. Since it would not involve the Special Air Services (already engaged), this would require drawing back personnel now assigned in small numbers (often just one or two billets) to a variety of UN missions.
A New Zealand Regional Contingency Joint Rapid Response Force would require full-time readiness and dedication by designated components of the armed and intelligence services, which means comprehensive resourcing for fixed assets and the recruitment, training and deployment of personnel. A strong argument can be made that New Zealand should focus its security resources on its immediate sphere of influence rather than on multinational commitments elsewhere.
If it had a non-partisan regional security contingency plan in place and the forces to implement it, New Zealand could embrace a more prominent security role in the Western Pacific that would counter-balance reductions in its other multinational commitments.
For all of its diplomatic and security responsibilities in the Western Pacific, New Zealand appears ill-prepared when it comes to addressing the security threats that are an endemic feature of the political landscape very close to home. If left unaddressed these threats will eventually find their way on-shore, at which point it will become more than a matter of interest to the police.
* Paul G. Buchanan is the Director of the Working Group on Alternative Security Perspectives at the University of Auckland.
