The Flags Look Great. The Strategy Doesn’t.

Australia is still mistaking deference for defence in the Trump Regime era.

There’s a theatre to Washington: podiums, flags, solemn faces, and a set of photos meant to tell the public, “Relax, grown-ups are in charge.” Australia shows subservience to the United States, says the right things, and reassures itself that closeness equals safety.

Which brings us to Penny Wong and Richard Marles in Washington this week, doing the familiar circuit: meetings, handshakes, statements of unity, and the implied message that Australia’s security still runs through the US capital. The problem isn’t that our Foreign Minister and Defence Minister are talking to their counterparts. Dialogue matters. The problem is what those images signal. And what they are quietly normalising: in a time of profound US disrespect for the rest of the world political upheaval, Australia is still presenting deference as defence strategy.

But we need to say the quiet part out loud: Australia’s security cannot be a photo opportunity. And it certainly can’t be a long-term dependency dressed up as strategy.

The United States we are dealing with now is not the United States of old alliance nostalgia. Under the Trump Regime, it is increasingly more volatile, more belligerent, and committed to bending, breaking and dismantling the rules it once claimed to uphold.

I’m not arguing for isolation. I’m arguing for clarity. When a major power starts using coercion more freely - at home and abroad - other democracies don’t respond by tying themselves tighter to that power. They diversify, they hedge, and they build more sovereign capability. That's what the EU and Japan are doing. Australia, instead, is doubling down. And yes: that's a dangerous path.

Australia needs to stop validating “the alliance” as a sacred identity. Under the Trump Regime, our values are no longer reliably aligned. When values diverge, “alliance” language becomes a trap: it loads moral obligation and automatic loyalty onto Australia, right when we most need room to make our own calls.

That distinction matters because sovereignty isn’t a vibe. It’s a capability. Sovereignty means we can defend ourselves without having to wait for someone else’s permission, spare parts, software updates, or supply-chain goodwill. It means our missiles, ships, and aircraft don’t become museum pieces the moment US support dries up. It means we don't automatically join wars that we don't need to fight. It means we have options.

Right now, we’re shrinking our options. AUKUS has drifted from “one capability pathway” into a kind of national loyalty test. Raise sovereignty and you’re waved away with: “That’s what partners do.” No. Partners bring strength to the table. Dependence is something else.

If Australia were pursuing a genuinely sovereign defence posture, our priority list would look a lot less like photo ops or a brochure for prestige platforms and a lot more like a plan for staying in the fight. Yes, submarines probably do matter. But “nuclear or nothing” is a false choice. Japan has just launched lithium-ion battery conventional submarines - quiet, lethal, and fit for purpose. We don’t need nuclear symbolism to build serious undersea capability.

And just as important: sovereignty is regional. With the old “rules-based order” under attack from its previously strongest ally, Australia shouldn’t respond by clutching to the US even tighter - especially when it's being radically reshaped by the Trump Regime. We should thicken our network: deeper practical defence cooperation with Japan, India, Indonesia, South Korea and New Zealand; closer coordination with European partners where interests align; and genuine investment in Pacific and Southeast Asian relationships that treats the region as central, not ceremonial.

We can deal with the US as a major power and still say: our defence policy will not be hostage to your domestic politics or international transgressions and disrespect. We can keep the phone line open without signing away our agency.

In the world we’re entering, the worst position for Australia is not “less allied.” The worst position is too dependent to choose. A country that can’t choose isn’t secure - it’s exposed.

Penny Wong and Richard Marles in Washington. Photo ABC.