With no public debate on national objectives, end states and potential deployment duration we can’t be sure that we are using the most appropriate strategy to pursue our national interests. Without a strong narrative from government justifying a deployment public support tends to diminish over time. This introduces the risk that the military will be caught between declining public opinion and government policy. 

Today an effective war strategy requires a balanced whole-of-government approach rather than a solely or even primarily military response. In counterinsurgencies and stabilisation operations an over reliance on the military is bad strategy. It used to be said that war was too important to be left to the generals. It now must be said that war is too important not to involve the civilians.

In order to redress the problem of knowing when we are at war I have five recommendations:

1. Both houses of parliament should be required to authorise by resolution any decision to commit the Australian Defence Force to warlike operations or potential hostilities within sixty days of the decision to commit forces. ADF deployments should then be reconsidered by the parliament on an annual basis.

2. The Australian Government should provide and routinely update a clear statement of national interests and the strategy to be followed. The strategy statement should include the elements of power to be used, the end state to be achieved, a discussion of the exit strategy and likely time frame for the commitment of force.

3. An available, deployable, sizable and robust civil contribution to Australia’s national effort should be established. 

4. Military acquisition methods should be modified to allow the accelerated and continuous acquisition of military equipment to cope with rapidly emerging threats. 

5. The relationship between the military, media and government should be reset to develop greater trust and confidence. 

Photo by Flickr user isafmedia's photostream, used under a Creative Commons licence.

The tolerant Aceh — comprised of a majority which rejects religious extremism out of hand, and which has been led by a governor and a legislature which also rejects these things, following free and fair elections in 2006 and 2009 — gets far less ink.

My colleague Andrew Siddons and I were sent to Aceh by The Interpreter to attempt to better understand how these two provinces exist side by side. Over the next few days, I will be filing dispatches from Aceh that I hope will help illuminate the complexity of the situation in this, Indonesia’s westernmost province.

Photo by Flickr user ya3hs3's photostream, used under a Creative Commons licence.

Intelligence sources in Afghanistan will need to tread carefully too. Some of the documents released detail intelligence that could only have come from human intelligence sources. The Taliban, like the mafia, are pretty good at tracking back leaks. They'll pore through these WikiLeaks reports, work out who said what and when, and recriminations will inevitably take place. You'll hear nothing from WikiLeaks over the coming months as Afghan intelligence sources dry up and our troops set out on patrol with less information about the threat they are facing.

Speaking yesterday at London's Frontline Club, Julian Assange proudly declared 'this will give us an intellectual understanding of the war'. Assange is a computer hacker by trade, someone who thrives in the tightly controlled computer environment where equations are mathematical and consequences are linear and predictable. He speaks like a computer hacker too — with a strangely indifferent cool manner, which just barely hides a lack of emotion and a touch of arrogance. In the computer world where consequences are predictable, hacking can be a purely intellectual exercise. Not so in the military world.

I'm not a medical professional, so I wouldn't trust myself to pick up a medical chart and deliver a prognosis to a seriously ill patient. Assange though, presumes that there is no need to possess any military professional knowledge to understand highly technical military documents. Assange speaks about things he doesn't understand and doesn't care to understand. It's probable that there is no one with any meaningful professional military experience on Assange's team, and hence no one with a critical military eye to help judge what can safely be released and what can't.

The brilliant satirist Stephen Colbert is the only journalist to date who has been seriously critical of Assange and WikiLeaks' work. Colbert interviewed Assange after the release of the WikiLeak 'Collateral Murder' tape and questioned the objectiveness of Assange's leaking. Colbert noted 'You have edited this tape, and you have given it a title called Collateral Murder. That's not leaking, that’s pure editorial'.

Assange cloaks himself in the right to free speech and the responsibility to increase transparency yet concedes that his announcements are designed to generate maximum political impact. By contrast, Daniel Ellsberg, who leaked the Pentagon Papers, was a considered insider who understood extremely well exactly what he was leaking and why.

The WikiLeaks documents aren’t the Pentagon Papers. They are the electronic equivalent of a child yelling 'fire' in a crowded movie theatre.

Photo by Flickr user biatchOr, used under a Creative Commons licence.

While clearly sympathetic to the plight of the Burmese people, she rises above sensationalist reporting and partisan political comment to describe, in elegant and often moving prose, the impact of these events at the grass roots level. In doing so, she gives an immediate, human perspective to government statements and official reports.

Larkin is also refreshingly self-aware, and candid about the many traps that lie in wait for those who try to write about modern Burma. Having followed developments in that deeply troubled country for nearly 40 years, in various capacities, the following passage from the book struck a particular chord with me.

Given the regime’s restrictions on information and association, it is difficult to form any public consensus or verifiable version of the truth. While certain events can be accounted for with certainty, there is much that remains unknown. Like those blind men in the parable [trying to describe an elephant from different vantage points], it has become impossible for anyone to see or fathom the beast in its entirety.

In a society where nothing can be taken for granted, distorted truths, half stories, and private visions are, by necessity, woven into the popular narrative of events. Burma is a place where the government hides behind convoluted smoke screens. It is a place where those who sacrifice themselves for their country must go unrecognised and can only be lauded or remembered in secret. It is a place where natural disasters don’t happen, at least not officially, and where the gaping misery that follows any catastrophe must be covered up and silenced. In such an environment, almost anything becomes believable.

Photo by Flickr user totaloutnow's photostream, used under a Creative Commons license.

I deliberately exclude attempts to change behaviour by altering the distribution of benefits in a society and the construction of institutions (recurrent structures of power) that conform to or are consonant with a communities pre-existing customs and norms from this definition. Sticks and carrots are not the means of social re-engineering, and it is reasonable to note that institution-building occurs along a spectrum – exploiting existing customs and norms, adapting existing customs and norms, or attempting to transform existing customs and norms.

We would be guilty of trying to 're-engineer' Afghan society if we were attempting to build a liberal, democratic, centralised, transparent state, governed by the rule of law and imbued with respect for human rights. We would not be attempting to 're-engineer' Afghan society if we were focused on exploiting pre-existing norms, customs, and power structures to arrive at a reasonably stable structure of power, defined and managed by Afghans themselves.

It may well be the case that, for domestic political or ideological reasons, we claim to be engaged in 're-engineering' when in practice we are not, and it is important to look out for this disjuncture between rhetoric and action whenever we speak about Afghanistan.

We are not really trying to 're-engineer' Afghan society. ISAF has controlled nearly all of north and north-west Afghanistan since the invasion of 2001. It has been happy to leave local power-brokers in place and has accepted the reality of Afghan politics: if you can get fragmented armed bands to put aside their weapons and compete for influence within the Afghan state, you've achieved an outcome that is 'good enough'; it is up to Afghans to drive the process from here.

As for Kilcullen – yes, he refers to Maslow, but no, he doesn't advise that hubris should underpin our campaign.

I referred to Kilcullen, among others, to argue that counter-insurgency theory was focused on more 'modest and...effective means of countering insurgencies' than attempts at 'social re-engineering', and that most of the political agents and military officers I have met have been focused on 'issues of power, perception, and security, the same factors that counter-insurgency theorists...tend to emphasise'. Looking at Kilcullen's 23rd article of counter-insurgency war, this was a reasonable claim: 

Counterinsurgency is armed social work; an attempt to redress basic social and political problems while being shot at…civil affairs…is how you restructure the environment to displace the enemy from it. In your company sector (that is, at the tactical level) civil affairs must focus on meeting basic needs first, then progress up Maslow’s hierarchy as each successive need is met…Your role is to provide protection, identify needs, facilitate civil affairs and use improvements in social conditions as leverage to build networks and mobilize the population…there is no such thing as impartial humanitarian assistance or civil affairs in counterinsurgency. Every time you help someone, you hurt someone else – not least the insurgency.

Kilcullen quotes Maslow to highlight the modest goals that need to be achieved to succeed in counter-insurgency: 'redress basic...problems', 'meet...basic needs first', 'provide protection', 'identify needs' and 'facilitate' other actors who might help address them. He does not prescribe widespread, all-encompassing programs of humanitarian intervention or social engineering.

He does provide a tactical guide focused on the selective use of incentives to 'leverage' the population and 'displace' the enemy, replacing insurgent institutions with those allied to the state. Kilcullen is emphatic that these institutions should be grounded in locally contingent, pre-existing customs and norms. For example, Kilcullen has recently advocated a tactical approach to the war in Afghanistan based on a very simple premise:

"It's pretty rare to find a counterinsurgency campaign where you didn’t end up with some kind of local village self-defense force,” he told (NPR). “The reason for that is very simple. It’s much easier to convince somebody who’s under threat to pick up a weapon and protect their own community than it is to convince them to go and serve in the national army in some district somewhere else or put their weapon down and expect the government to protect them. It’s kind of an intermediate step.”

Unlike grandiose schemes of 'nation-building', counter-insurgency is all about 'intermediate steps' – assuring the people of their protection by helping them defend themselves. If we push back the Taliban, train the ANA, transition control to Afghans, and support indigenous political elites to re-consolidate power within an embryonic state over the long run (just as we do in many developing countries), we will have secured our important objectives of denying Afghanistan as a base to terrorists, stabilising Afghanistan, and preventing Afghanistan's malaise from crippling the region.

These goals can be achieved without 'social re-engineering', massive or otherwise.

Photo by Flickr user isafmedia, used under a Creative Commons license.

If your plan is to conduct counter-insurgency by the tactic of population protection, yet you fail to allocate sufficient resources, then your plan is likely to fail. The 6000 figure is based on 'troops density ratios' which link strategy to tactics (I explain my thinking in detail in 'How Much is Enough in Afghanistan', in the Australian Army Journal). This is what allows you to protect a reasonable percentage of a population, not just this bit of population today, that bit tomorrow and most of it never.

Population estimates of Uruzgan go from 300,000 to 600,000. Let's assume a round number of 500,000. History tells us that about 10,000 effective security forces are needed to counter an insurgency in a population the size of Uruzgan. My judgement — given population centres, geography, and technology — is that you could probably do the job, over a number of years, with 6000.

We have had a bit over 3000 effective security forces in the province now for several years and the Dutch are about to take half of those away. So for a long time, we have tried to do a 6000-person job with half the number needed. Now, with the Dutch gone, we face the future with one quarter the number of effective security forces needed.

The Minister tells us that the US will put a 'battle group' into the province. Battle groups are (generally) about 1000 strong. This means that we are going to replace 1700 Dutch with 1000 US troops. So at best, we are still trying to do a job with no more than half the number of troops needed.

I totally reject the Minister's criticism that the need for a minimum of 6000 troops in Uruzgan province to support the Coalition's war plans is an extreme view. It is a logical, defensible, internationally held view based on learning from history. I also totally reject the Minister's inference that Australia could not supply more troops to Uruzgan because of regional contingencies. That is merely a convenient smoke screen. 

The recent Four Corners episodes showed our troops in Uruzgan, from private soldier to major general, as being smart, committed, courageous and capable. One captain was explaining the counter-insurgency technique where small areas are secured, with security then spread out from one area to another in the manner of a spreading oil spot. The problem was, the captain said, 'sometimes there is not enough oil'. The troops know.

Photo by Flickr user chrisjfry, used under a Creative Commons license.

1. Working on projects is very expensive. Development worker are always frustrated with the inefficiency and corruption in host governments, but the fact is that governments still remain the most efficient provider of public goods.
2. Working on projects does not promote the idea of government. In many fragile and post-conflict states the idea that government (as opposed to a particular administration) can be beneficial is not accepted. The citizens that receive aid that flows directly from donors to projects are likely to see government as increasingly irrelevant. The irrelevance of government to its citizens undermines the government’s ability to collect taxes, deliver other services and prevents the citizens seeking to hold their government to account. The goal should be to help governments improve their services not to sideline them from delivery.

There is no problem with promoting the success stories of Australian aid. But we must accept that the real success stories of Australia’s aid program are not going to be photogenic.

 John Cheong-Holdaway:

Sure, media and other civil society oversight is important, but only as one element of the appraisal and evaluation process. It's much easier to put on a good show for a journalist than it is to design an effective assistance program that addresses a real need in a target country.

There's already a strong incentive in development to undertake projects that look good rather than do good, creating a PR department under AusAID will only exacerbate that tendency.

There's dozens of libraries all over Timor-Leste set up because people love setting up libraries and stocked with piles of books that no one can understand (because they're in English). Soccer fields in communities without adequate sanitation facilities, etc. etc.

The aim of overseas development assistance should be to improve the lives of the populace in the target country, not to make the folks back home feel good about themselves...

Interestingly, despite Clegg's statement that military and political operators aren't focused on re-engineering (and it's tempting to suggest that this might have something to do with the lack of progress in Afghanistan despite nearly a decade of fighting), they seem to be developing more interest.

For example, this article from the New York Times describes the growing interaction between senior military leaders and the girls' school-building author of 'Three Cups of Tea', Greg Mortenson. As Mortenson notes, Al Qaeda and the Taliban are engaged in re-engineering over a long, multi-generational term. Why would we think we needn't do the same?

And here's Daryl Morini, an Honours student at the University of Queensland:

I mostly concur with the recent post by Will Clegg that Australia is not involved in Afghanistan to socially re-engineer anyone, least of all the Afghans. Out of fairness to the line of thought supported by Sam Roggeveen and Jason Thomas, though, counter-insurgency may well bear resemblances to law enforcement. But isn't the point of police patrols, parking tickets, and jail sentences — at least in principle — to deter most instances of illegal, indecent and violent behaviour, most of the time, rather than to radically re-engineer the very fabric of our society?

No analogy is ever perfect; neither is any society. Australia has a world-class state apparatus of policing, national security, and defence force which has effectively monopolised the legitimate use of coercion over this continent. Compare this with the sorry state of the Afghan National Army, not to mention the notoriously inept Afghan National Police, and you come to appreciate the fundamental problem in Afghanistan. The Afghan government lacks the basic capabilities to police its own territory, and legitimise its sole ownership over the use of organised violence in Afghanistan. Hence, NATO-ISAF is not in Afghanistan to build a nation, but to reform and strengthen a once functioning state battered by thirty years of more or less constant war.

Anyone reading the 2006 Afghanistan Compact could rightly counter that the multi-national intervention is also in the business of supporting Afghanistan's socio-economic development and civil society. But the document highlights the consensus view that basic security remains 'a fundamental prerequisite for achieving stability and development in Afghanistan.'

This explains why progress in Afghanistan is best benchmarked against the gradual transition to the Afghan government's own policing and defence capabilities, with the year 2014 being the potential end game in this final hand-over. But this also reveals the limited utility of the criminal-Taliban analogy. Pushed any further and the crime-insurgency nexus resembles not so much a dispassionate observation as a policy-concealing Trojan Horse. Sure, Australia has the Hell's Angels, but they are no Taliban — brawnier, perhaps, but their existence is not as consequential to national let alone international security. The Australian ice epidemic is certainly devastating to the people whose lives are consumed by it; but it is incomparable to the estimated 100,000 deaths which the Afghan poppy claims every year around the world, the addicts whose lives it destroys, and the violent insurgency which it ultimately finances. Finally, to the best of our knowledge, Australian gangs are not likely to welcome Osama bin Laden into their ranks anytime soon. Neither are they suspected of having the A-bomb on their weapons wish list.

I am being blunt to illustrate the point that we shouldn't be ahistorical in our national debate about Afghanistan. Arguing by analogy has its limits. Using a general observation (ie. civil wars are like petty crime) as a proxy for a more targeted argument (fixing Afghanistan is impossible and, therefore, undesirable) is not good enough.

Somewhat hubristically, I would like to propose some parameters to this very important discussion. First of all, let's reflect carefully on why we wound up in this country before rushing for the exit door and turning the lights off behind us, as Obama put it. Secondly, we should extrapolate a full spectrum of the possible consequences of our actions and non-actions — from the loss of Afghan to Australian lives — and then, and only then, proceed to make policy recommendations for the incoming Australian government.

The first and oldest category are those operations that saw Australia contribute to conflicts anywhere on the globe where the British Empire as a whole, the UK and later the US were militarily engaged. This was essentially the sole mode of Australian military operations until 1941. It was based on the strategic rationale that Australian assistance would secure goodwill in case of threats closer to home, and that Australia's security ultimately depended on its allies' global military predominance, which Australia would support wherever that predominance was under threat.

The concept of 'forward defence', however, is distinct and arose out of the failure of this earlier strategy in 1941. 'Forward defence' operations and planning focused on Australia's own region, and specifically on the main approaches to maritime South East Asia, especially the Malay peninsula.

Again, Australia would support its allies in operations (eg. in the Malay emergency, Konfrontasi or SEATO operations in Thailand) but it would do so because these operations had a direct benefit to the security of Australia itself. 

Now declassified guidance documents from the late 1940s onwards make quite clear that Australian governments were consistently willing to engage (if necessary, with much larger forces than were actually deployed) should threats to Australia's vital interests make this necessary. (Interestingly, and despite its prominence in Australian military history, the strategic rationale for Australia's contribution to the Vietnam War was much more akin to the earlier, global support to Australia's allies.)

'Forward defence' as a strategy could not continue after the end of the direct UK and US military presence in the region in the early 1970s. It is an intriguing thought whether, as the Asia-Pacific strategic environment becomes more fluid, they may re-appear in a new form. 

Comments in the 2000 and 2009 Defence White Papers regarding high-intensity operations to support the security of maritime South East Asia carry many connotations of the 'forward defence' concept of old, although the role of major allies is much less central than it once was. 

But should we ever see a true 'forward defence' operation, in support of direct vital Australian strategic interests and with a commensurate military effort not seen in this country in the past 60 years, it would be very different from the global coalition contributions that we have seen in the Middle East in recent years — not least since it would require the ADF to operate jointly and provide the main strategic weight of a regional coalition.

Photo by Flickr user jamestee, used under a Creative Commons license.

Fiji was genuine in inviting others and I know from Ratu Inoke that they never intended to undermine the Pacific Islands Forum (PIF) but to use the occasion to get the MSG-plus to listen to Fiji's real story beyond the rhetoric of the vague arguments about democracy and to note progress being made in Fiji, away from the over-bearing presence of Australia and New Zealand. Fiji wants to return to PIF. It has no intention of breaking PIF. Fiji needs friends like any other country, be it a democracy or not.

I am disappointed with the expulsion of Sarah but not surprised at Bainimarama's frustrations. Australia and New Zealand have used every ammunition they have in their armory to beat Fiji down and what armory does Bainimarama have to defend his little country except perhaps expelling diplomats? He has to show some retaliation at the behavior and bullying by Australia and New Zealand.

This type of cornering a military man will lead Fiji in withdrawing now from the PIF and even the Commonwealth. This will be a pity. If Fiji was to formally withdraw from PIF with this kind of bullying, it will be a sad day for the PIF, especially for the Pacific Island countries (PICs). I think it will be the first nail in the coffin for the PIF and Australia and New Zealand will have to take responsibility.

Incidentally, the MSG Meeting in New Caledonia was chaired by the Kanak Party. How representative were they of the people of New Caledonia? 

Australia and New Zealand are ignoring the developments on the ground in Fiji. Bainimarama now has popular support support amongst Fijians and Indo-Fijians. Much reform is underway to the satisfaction of the IMF, reforms ignored by race politics of yester years.

Although the Prime Minister of Vanuatu has taken this action, it is wrong and naïve for anyone to assume that the PM was making a principled call; he is most uncomfortable at having to take this action against a fellow Melanesian country at the behest of Australia and New Zealand. There is no doubt. I know the PICs. It is no time to gloat but a sad day for the Melanesians.

Aside from a couple of strategically-placed pictures of Hamid Karzai looking majestically into the distance, there is little to distinguish the nation which the pavilion is intended to represent (and I suppose unless you are aware of who he is, this is also not a useful indicator).

When I asked an Afghan running one of the carpet selling stalls inside the space whether Chinese visitors were interested in Afghanistan, he reassured me that they were only interested in getting a picture taken and a 'visa stamp' in their expo passports. Only foreigners wanted to know more about the country, and those were mostly individuals who had previously served on deployment in the country.

According to the website, the space is meant to be a reconstruction of the Blue Mosque at Herat — something of a far-fetched comparison in my mind, though I have admittedly never been to Herat. In fact, there is little evidence of Afghan history or culture in the pavilion beyond the array of stalls selling Afghan stuff. In the center a couple of South Asian women do henna tattoos on visitors, while a tent in the corner is as close to a cultural exhibit that is offered.

Photo (1) by Flickr user nozomiiqel, used under a Creative Commons licence, and photo (2) by the author.

I think it would be difficult to find evidence of ISAF attempting to 're-engineer' Afghan society. My research indicates that ISAF has been far more pragmatic in Afghanistan than our political leaders sometimes pretend. Obama said he wasn't interested in 'nation building', and I don't think that's what ISAF is trying to do. Rather, they are trying to shape the security environment, build an army, and provide Afghanistan's ruling elite with the political opportunity and political support necessary for them to put Afghanistan back on the trajectory of gradual modernisation and state formation that it enjoyed throughout the 20th century and was knocked off by the coup and subsequent 'revolution' of 1978.

This is a modest strategy acknowledging our very significant strategic weight within Afghanistan at present and our very limited ability to change the fabric of Afghan politics, if at all. Its also a strategy that serves America's real interest in countering terrorism, withdrawing with honour, and preventing Afghanistan from becoming a vacuum for regional conflict once again. 

Perhaps some members of the international development community are inclined to try and 're-engineer' Afghan society. I haven't met many political agents or military officers who share this urge. Most are focused on issues of power, perception, and security, the same factors that counterinsurgency theorists also tend to emphasise.

Indeed, a bit more strategic analysis and a little bit less ideological warfare would do wonders for the quality of debate about Afghanistan. It might also help focus and refine ISAF's strategy so that the international community, including Australia, can withdraw from Afghanistan without being guilty of hubris or having waged war for almost a decade without being able to sustain a single one of our achievements and only to watch an emergent Afghan state once again collapse.

Given the looming start of a draw-down of ISAF within a year or so, gradual as this draw down might be, a good point of departure would be to ask three questions:

• What have we achieved in Afghanistan so far? 
• What can we still achieve in the time available?
• How can these gains be sustained, bolstered, and entrenched over the mid- to long-run?

In one way or another, the international community — and America in particular — will have to deal with Afghanistan and remain engaged with (if not in) Afghanistan for a very long time. Best we take a cold hard look at what is actually happening in that country so that we can decide the form future engagement should take.

Beating up on 'hubris' that may well not exist doesn't really get us any closer to answering the vexing question of what can be achieved and at what cost. Surely the answer is not 'nothing'. Is it?

But Obama has essentially conceded defeat, establishing a timetable for a US troop withdrawal. Since he clearly doesn't want to be in Afghanistan any more, there is no reason why Australia should stay to the bitter end. In effect, the insurgents have already won. Why continue to fight a lost war?

Considering Australia's near-decade of support and America's lack of will to persevere, there is little scope for an Australian withdrawal to damage the alliance. It would be unlikely for the US to shut us out of established intelligence and technology deals and even less likely for our withdrawal to impact the decision for America to support Australia in a contingency.

The next reason is the support of a global rules-based order. There are two problems with this line of reasoning. First, a 'rules based international order' is neither a purpose nor an aim in itself. States in the international system accept no higher authority than their own prerogative. They do not subscribe to a universal set of rules. To the extent that such an order exists, it is a product of national power and interests, in large part American power and interests.

Second, Ashley suggests that Australia's involvement in ISAF would return some 'dividend' when next the international order needs to respond to a crisis in Southeast Asia. I can't see how our support of an unpopular war, even one sanctioned by the UN, would affect the international community's decision to intervene in some future contingency in our region. Even if our support for security contingencies impacted UN resolutions or international political will to intervene (and I am not convinced that it does), our actions in Timor-Leste and the Solomons clearly overwrite the withdrawal of support for a counter-terrorism and/or counterinsurgency campaign in a country that was relatively stable prior to invasion.

Ashley's third reason is that a failure to stabilise Afghanistan now would lead to spill-over effects destabilising Pakistan, the rest of South Asia and affecting global security. Experience suggests that if Afghanistan returns to Taliban or warlord rule, then it will probably be contained with relatively little external spill-over. Maybe this isn't the best option for all Afghan citizens, but continued occupation by international forces isn't very popular either.

The example of Somalia in the 1990s isn't appropriate to Afghanistan. Has Somalia really redounded to the detriment of our security to the extent Ashley suggests? The implicit alternative: years of armed social engineering in Somalia and the difficulty and bloodshed which that would have entailed, would have been an expensive price tag for a rules-based order that probably would not be noticeably different from today.

Finally, Afghanistan does have a potential lasting solution in sight. It just isn't the solution that the international community would prefer. This brings the argument back to square one – is the political situation in Afghanistan of direct concern or Australia's national interests? The answer remains 'no'.

Pakistani journalists, government people, military people, well-to-do professionals, guys who sit in blankets in road side stops smoking and drinking tea...everyone thinks that the US will be getting out of Afghanistan no matter what. Even if they don't have any real solid reason for thinking so, the fact that they do creates its own dynamic.

An Afghan think tank based in the US suggests that no amount of gunfire will solve a problem which needs a purely Afghan-based tribal solution: 'In retrospect, some believe the battle for Kandahar is a matter of political negotiations rather than a decisive military campaign. In either case, our indigenous analysis suggests, both the Marjah and Kandahar scenarios to be the cause of increasing instability; and a sound and independent plan led by native Afghans should be examined for a possible win-win situation for both the Marjah/Kandahar inhabitants, and NATO forces.'

Military contractors have certainly noticed a 'surge' in hostile military activity around Kandahar as both ISAF and the Taliban continue with what is coyly called 'shaping operations' (ie. the targeted assassination of significant players). In his Kandahar Diary, one contractor writes:

There's no doubt things are hotting up. Our convoys are being hit every day by IED and ambushes – often, combined. The bad guys seem to be moving in larger groups and, to us, it seems that they are operating with virtual impunity on certain sections of Hwy 1, in particular in the vicinity of Hawz-e Madad where we can guarantee running an ambush as the convoy passes through the gardens that border the road. We’ve lost four KIA in that 10km stretch in the past week alone. I know this small section of highway is only a fly-spot on the map of Afghanistan, but I do wonder just what the hell ISAF is doing about it.

And in a very curious footnote, there are persistent stories in the blogosphere and recently on Afghan Tolo Television that Pakistani media is reporting the arrest of Mullah Omar, who is said to be in the custody of the intelligence department.

Photo by Flickr user isafmedia, used under a Creative Commons license.

China's failure to fully embrace Hatoyama's half-cooked 'East Asian Community' concept at the East Asian Summit meeting in October 2009 was perhaps the beginning of Japan's return to normalcy. Hatoyama's proposal, which contradicted Australia's 'Asia Pacific Community' proposal, embarrassed then Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd. Hatoyama's proposal also left the US irritated, for it came just after Washington spent considerable political capital signing the ASEAN Treaty of Amity and Cooperation, a condition for it to be invited to the East Asian Summit.

In the following months, Japan insisted on talking to China about unsettled issues. Japan demanded stronger Chinese commitment to negotiating joint development of the Shungyo (Chunxiao) gas field in the East China Sea, threatening China with lodging a case to the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea. And Japan demanded acceleration of the stalled negotiation on concluding a trilateral investment agreement among Japan, China and South Korea, in order to check against continuing Chinese use of mercantilist policy against Japanese investment.

Both requests reflected Japan's frustration with China's tactic of enjoying the status quo while appearing to negotiate.

Nor did the arrival of the DPJ Government in Japan improve the already cold military relations between Japan and China. Japan's decision to shadow the Chinese naval exercise through the Okinawan island chain into the Western Pacific in April 2009 was met with the unusually close approach of a Chinese military helicopter to Japanese destroyers. Foreign Minister Katsuya Okada lodged a formal protest to the Chinese ambassador in Tokyo.

China's patronage of North Korea has also frustrated Japan. The sinking of a South Korean corvette by a North Korean torpedo attack in March invited coordinated protests from Japan, the US and South Korea. However, China's efforts blocked the possibility of an UN Security Council resolution against North Korea, and the compromised Presidential Statement not only failed to explicitly name North Korea as the culprit, but also noted North Korea's denial.

Kan's new government has inherited all of these pending issues with China. Chinese leaders hold favorable views of Kan, who has spent time in various parliamentary friendship events with his Chinese counterparts. As a prime minister, Kan now has to deliver acceptable compromises from China on the pending diplomatic issues.

The DPJ's most likely coalition partners will be one or two of the centrist parties which split from the LDP during the past year, and on China policy, the centre of gravity within the upcoming ruling coalition will be with the centrists and conservatives. In the likely event that China continues to stall ongoing negotiations on various issues, Kan will face criticism from the conservatives inside and outside his party as well as from his centrist coalition partners. 

Photo by Flickr user jimmyharris, used under a Creative Commons license.

In counterinsurgency vernacular, terms like 'operational environment' are used to understand the root causes that lead to the insurgency taking hold. Acronyms like SWEAT-MUS (Sewerage, Water, Electricity, Academics, Trash, Medical, Unemployment and Security), are used to assess what is broken and where the reconstruction needs to be focused. Governments have been doing this for years where community infrastructure has broken down.

Abraham Maslow established what is known as Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Maslow said society exists on a foundation, and that foundation is a reasonably secure and safe environment. Maslow's point was that if a nation cannot create an environment in which citizens are safe and have access to basic needs such as food, water, electricity and the necessities of life, then the nation has failed its social contract. Why should citizens pay taxes, obey laws or support government authority under these circumstances?

The socio-economic conditions the Taliban and gangs thrive on are typified by broken infrastructure, over-crowded housing, collapsed basic services and a government that they never see or don't trust.  

To move towards a more lasting solution to the problem of mass violence, we need to understand and acknowledge that, for significant groups, this violence represents not a problem but a solution. Put yourself in the shoes of anyone who lives in these conditions and the Taliban or Hells Angels sound like a good option – either that or they give you an offer you can't refuse. Sure, the initiation can be brutal, but the bond built on violence and a penetrating religious faith is almost unbreakable. 

If you come from a broken and violent family, with no education, no money, and little self-respect, then Hells Angels can become your surrogate family. Equally, the Taliban will make you feel wanted. You will be given a job with the opportunity to climb the gang's corporate ladder. In Afghanistan, young illiterate and unemployed men who have lost countless members of their family through generations of bloodshed are easily drawn to the Taliban. Best of all, as a young boy they will give you a gun and pay you to blow things up. 

A number of counterinsurgency activities involve engaging the villagers to work on community projects instead of working for the Taliban. This is a win-win for everyone. Yet when the work stops, the income stops and the villagers are easily drawn back to the life they know. On a project I implemented in Wardak, no sooner had it finished than two young labourers went back working for the Taliban, only to blow themselves up when laying an Improvised Explosive Device. 

If you are not a military strategist or a new-age counterinsurgency warrior and can't work out why the war in Afghanistan is taking so long, look in the backyard of your own communities and ask yourself why gang intimidation, drug trafficking and violent crime haven't been cleaned up; the answer is fundamentally the same. The truth is, defeating an insurgency requires a massive social re-engineering and a rebuilding of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Except in Afghanistan, we are trying to do it for a whole country.

Photo by Flickr user strangejourney, used under a Creative Commons license.

This involvement in Afghanistan is in Australia’s interest based on the notion of a forward defence strategy. This strategy aims to deploy forces into conflict zones dislocated from the Australian continent in support of our allies and does so under the assumption that, should Australia come under threat, these allies will in turn support us. Indeed, in 2001 former Prime Minister Howard stood before the United States Congress and invoked the ANZUS alliance. 

The act of a head of state standing to address a foreign government, pledging troops and support for whatever war was to follow, displays all the hallmarks of a nation committing itself to total war. Yet we deployed fewer than 2000 troops, a number smaller than most suburban high schools. 

The subsequent government was no better. Despite all its campaign grandeur, there are still less than 2000 troops deployed. Former Prime Minister Rudd even went so far as to ask President Obama not to request greater Australian involvement so as to avoid the public embarrassment of a formal decline. Essentially, the extent of our contribution does not live up to the rhetoric used to describe it. 

Currently, the Government's policy is political survival disguised as an apathetic forward defence strategy. As soldier Z noted, Australia's policy is to look good, not do good. I fear my colleague is too kind. Our lackluster support to the alliance does more harm than good. It is patronising to our allies. Bar a few exceptions, the US has been too polite to call us on this. The British, however, are all too happy to voice their criticism. If forward defence is to be our strategy, then when our ally asks for support, we should provide it. If we do not have the capability, then we should develop it.

We are soldiers, and we are asking to be led. We have chosen this life, and when directed, we shall go willingly to war. We recognise that every time we enter combat we may not be valiantly defending Australian soil. But if we are to stand in the dust; if we are to take life and have it taken from us; and if we are to bury our friends; then all we ask is that our government articulate its strategy and lead us.

Australians have not elected mirrors of public opinion. We elect leaders to craft strategy and exercise judgement in pursuit of our collective national interest. Such leadership should direct, inform, correct, and occasionally, disregard the majority opinion of the public for whom it serves.

If ever there has been a time for such leadership, it is now. We are in a turbulent era characterised by an economic downturn, climate change, nuclear proliferation, and a looming great power transition. In such a era, we can passively react to these vicissitudes and persist in hedging our bets. Or, we can direct our course. 

But to do so, we must be led.

There was a much greater element of luck in our success in East Timor than is healthy at any time. Whether our involvement in Iraq is supported by readers or not, it would have been appropriate that Defence be able to deliver military options to government that covered a relatively broad range of capabilities appropriate to the circumstances. Any government deserves that. The ADF is still severely limited in operational capability, as is seen by the efforts it has to go to in making a small part of our army capable of conducting relatively normal land combat operations in Afghanistan.

The recent ASPI reviews of the three Services and ASPI's Almanac still, in general, concentrate on counting equipment rather than on what operational capability the ADF can deliver.

Defence is about to go into a backward funding phase yet again, where cuts are dressed up as savings; as a result, the limited capabilities we have will suffer. It might take a future minister who has not been 'captured' by the strategic studies industry to adequately fund Defence so that its capability might actually approach that required by the Government's own strategic forecasts.

Photo by Flickr user Brenda Anderson, used under a Creative Commons license. 

Some public figures have added the name of their home town, like former health minister 'Myanaung' U Tin, or their profession, like 'Tekkatho' (university) Phone Naing. It is also common for Burmese journalists and authors to be tagged with the names of their host publications, such as 'Guardian' U Sein Win, and 'Journal Kyaw' Ma Ma Lay. 

The developing use of noms de plume was an integral part of the evolution of modern Burmese literature, particularly since the final British conquest of the country in 1885. A 'sampling survey' of Burmese pen-names compiled by Cornell University in 1975 listed the titles of 650 pseudonymous works, under 320 personal names.

Some British colonial authors also used pseudonyms. JG Scott's classic work The Burman (1882) was published under the name 'Shway Yoe'. Eric Blair, author of Burmese Days (1934), adopted the nom de plume 'George Orwell'. He was inspired by another member of the Indian Imperial Police, Burma-born Hector Munro, who wrote short stories as 'Saki'.

The reasons for adopting pseudonyms are many and varied. Some authors simply want to remain anonymous for personal or professional reasons. Others have considered it fashionable to publish under a pen-name. In the 1920s and 1930s, critics of colonial rule wished to avoid detection and arrest by the British authorities.

Burma's famed Thirty Comrades — who allied themselves with Japan in 1942 — all adopted noms de guerre. Nationalist leader Aung San was known as Bo Tayza ('General Flames'). Another in the group was Ne Win ('Radiant Sun'), who went on to rule Burma from 1962 to 1988. He was born Shu Maung, a name he was happy to discard as it betrayed his mixed Chinese-Burmese ancestry.

After Ne Win's coup d'etat, many independent journalists, commentators and literary figures sought to hide their identities from the military regime. Despite heavy censorship, some were still able to become quite influential. This prompted the regime to ban the use of certain noms de plume, a practice it repeated after the 2007 'saffron revolution'.

During and after the 1988 pro-democracy uprising, many activists adopted pseudonyms. For example, Min Ko Naing ('Conqueror of Kings') is the nom de guerre of a key figure in the opposition movement. Many members of the militant All Burma Students Democratic Front took new names, both for security reasons and to reflect their commitment to armed struggle.

Some anti-regime figures have become well known under stage names. One is the satirist Zarganar ('Tweezers'), who in 2008 was sentenced to 35 years in prison for 'public order offences'. The undercover reporters who covered the 2007 civil unrest and later appeared in the docudrama Burma VJ used pseudonyms to avoid official retribution.

Even exiled Burmese have felt the need to hide their identities, mainly to protect friends and relatives still living in Burma. Most journalists working for expatriate news services, such as The Irrawaddy magazine, publish their stories under pen names. Burmese working illegally outside the country have used false names to avoid being identified and sent back home.

Foreign authors and journalists covering Burma have also used pseudonyms, mainly to ensure that they are not denied entry to the country. A roll call of such noms de plume includes many that are familiar to Burma-watchers, such as Emma Larkin, William Ashton, Michael Black, Norman Robespierre, Clive Parker, Arnold Corso, Edmond Dantes, Kay Merrill and William Boot.

All these people have good reason to be wary of the Naypyidaw regime. Over the years, it has been highly sensitive to public criticism, and quite ruthless in hunting down the relatives of exiles and 'defectors' opposed to military rule. Several prominent foreign journalists and academics have been banned from Burma for writing frankly about the regime's failings.

That said, the use of pseudonyms can pose problems. Given the dearth of reliable information about developments in Burma, it is often necessary to know who is speaking in order to make informed judgements about the reliability of their sources and the value of their analysis.

Also, if an author's identity is concealed it can be difficult to take into account any possible political bias or personal agenda. In the highly charged atmosphere that characterises the public debate on Burma, this is an important consideration. Even the military government has published propaganda and disinformation under pseudonyms.

Another problem is that, hiding behind false names, some activists have launched ad hominem attacks against scholars and commentators who have expressed unfashionable views about Burma or advocated unpopular policy positions. Not knowing the identity of their accusers, the targets of these attacks have found it difficult to defend themselves.

Given the wide range of views heard about most aspects of contemporary Burma, it should come as no surprise that even names can be controversial. After all, it has been more than 20 years since the military government changed the country's official name, and argument still rages over the relative merits of 'Burma' and 'Myanmar'. 

Photo by Flickr user netdance, used under a Creative Commons license.

We know that Moran thinks the threshold is higher than Australia's 1.5%, and there are five or so countries above us responsible for less than 2% each – presumably they are also insignificant in Moran's view. This leaves a maximum pool of about 10 countries that Moran must think make a statistically significant contribution to climate change. But if only 10 or so countries should do something, how will we ever get the 'global consensus' that Moran purports to want?

The apparent inconsistency in Moran's logic points to the practical necessity of many countries (certainly Australia) taking action if sufficient global mitigation is to occur.

Practicalities aside, implicit in Moran's approach is the notion that a country's emission of greenhouse gases imposes moral obligations (to take action) at some point, albeit not when the amount is 'trivial'. A more principled approach involves thinking about every ton of emissions as morally significant, wherever it is produced, since every ton contributes to a global problem that has (potentially profound) consequences for all humans and for non-human species. On this basis alone, Australia should reduce its emissions, whether or not other countries do so.

But the moral case for Australian action becomes even stronger when one considers other morally relevant factors, including our historical emissions, our high per capita emissions (we emit 1.5% of greenhouse gases but have only 0.3% of the world's population) and our relative material prosperity.

And I haven't been counting the emissions embodied in the fossil fuels we export. Australia is the world's largest coal exporter; counting the coal we export more than doubles our emissions footprint. Sure, our customers are implicated in our coal trade as much as we are, but to suggest in the face of these facts that Australia's emissions are 'trivial' and that we are diplomatically impotent to influence a global solution suggests a disturbing lack of awareness of our responsibility for the problem and our obligations to respond to it.

National responsibility for climate change mitigation is a complex moral issue and I accept that the extent of a country's moral obligation to reduce emissions is not amenable to precise and incontestable measurement. But that does not excuse disengagement from the relevant moral questions, only some of which I have touched on here.

Rather, the enormity of climate change demands that we grapple with its complexities with all our intellectual might. We should therefore expect more of our public intellectuals than the advocacy of 'do-nothing' responses that repudiate any moral responsibility for our harmful actions while shifting costs and blame onto other countries.

Photo by Flickr user yewenyi, used under a Creative Commons license.

President Karzai is reportedly barely on speaking terms with US Ambassador Eikenberry or Obama's envoy Richard Holbrooke. General Petraeus undoubtedly brings more diplomatic savvy to the job than his predecessor. However, Holbrooke and US Ambassador Eikenberry, who has starkly questioned the current strategy, remain in their positions. With current personnel, there is no prospect of repeating the close relationship between Petraeus and Ambassador Crocker that was so critical to the 'surge' in Iraq.

The looming withdrawal deadline and the dysfunctionality of his leadership team have two things in common: they are hurting the coalition's chances to succeed, and only Obama himself can resolve them. 

Great war leaders like Churchill or Lincoln combine dogged determination with close and personal involvement in the conduct of the war. Without the former, it is impossible for a President to convince the US population, allies and adversaries of the prospect of victory. Without the latter, the President completely depends on the judgment of others, and cannot ensure the alignment of resources, strategy and political objective. Even President Bush demonstrated doggedness and close involvement, in his own, dysfunctional ways, when his Administration turned the course of the war in Iraq during its second term. 

So far, however, Obama displays neither determination nor close involvement in the pursuit of the campaign. He dithered for weeks before announcing his revised strategy, settling for a compromise more suited to the players in Washington than to those in Afghanistan. His artificial withdrawal deadline is harming coalition efforts on the ground, but he has done nothing to qualify or clarify his policy. Obama rightly fired McChrystal, but seems unwilling to address the dysfunctional relationships between his top military and civilian leaders and the Karzai Government.

All of this is understandable. The war in Afghanistan was an unwanted inheritance from Obama's unloved predecessor, and the President's real heart is in domestic matters. 

But this is no excuse. President Eisenhower ended the Korean War that had begun under Truman's watch, largely on US terms. President Nixon's Paris Peace Accords of 1973 were a similar achievement, until they and South Vietnam sank in the post-Watergate quagmire. Neither Eisenhower nor Nixon was a fan of foreign policy adventure, and both had significant domestic agendas. However, both realised that they had to first address the challenges they inherited.

The war in Afghanistan is not yet lost, but unless Obama takes his place at the helm and accepts that his is also a war presidency, the US and its coalition partners will loose. History would judge him harshly for such a failing. So should Australia and other US allies, whose sons and daughters continue to die in this campaign. 

The appointment of General Petraeus gives Obama an opportunity to engage with what is now his Afghanistan War, and he must do so before it is too late. Waiting for the December review is not an answer.

Photo by Flickr user isafmedia, used under a Creative Commons license.

This is called, if I’m not mistaken, industrial-scientific espionage. Or more accurately, when they do it its industrial-scientific espionage. But when we do it it's scientific-technical intelligence. It existed not only in the USSR, and to this day there are a few people who casually admit that they were engaged in it. And so there we were, working and working away, getting hold of more and more of the stuff – but nothing came of it! We asked: 'Where is it? Where is it in the economy?' It wasn't there! We couldn’t use it!

It's not clear from this whether, regardless of the assimilation problems, Putin thought that the 'intelligence' was a good thing or a bad thing. He was more precise on 30 June at the 'Technology in Engineering 2010' forum, in response to a presentation by Frank Schauff, the head of the Association of European Businesses in Russia. The text of Schauff's speech is not available, but in stressing that Russia was prepared to buy the technology it needed and to protect intellectual property, Putin said:

You should not allege that Russians are out to do what the character from one of our famous literary works does: snatch a juicy morsel from the boss' kitchen and then quietly gobble it up in bed, hiding under the blanket. Russia never pursues such policies.

From what we know of the ring in the US, it was unlikely to have stolen much of value. One imagines that there are more threatening operations out there, but it could well be the case that Putin is sceptical of their value.

Photo by Flickr user Jonathan_W, used under a Creative Commons license.