Out from the cold? NZ faces nuclear energy rethink amid global shifts and security debates. Photo / Kenny Holston, New York Times
Out from the cold? NZ faces nuclear energy rethink amid global shifts and security debates. Photo / Kenny Holston, New York Times
Opinion by Matthew Hooton
Matthew Hooton has over 30 years’ experience in political and corporate communications and strategy for clients in Australasia, Asia, Europe and North America, including the National and Act parties and the Mayor of Auckland.
Donald Trump’s new world order will soon force New Zealand to reconsider its attitude towards nuclear energy, naval visits and even weapons.
This won’t be easy. At least since Richard Prebble’s 1984 Nuclear Free New Zealand Bill, which helped collapse the Muldoon Government, many regardanti-nuclearism as an article of faith. Prebble’s views have evolved, and the world’s.
Climate change is one reason. Nuclear power may never be economic for a small, isolated nation like New Zealand, but will become the norm elsewhere.
Australia’s Liberal-National Opposition promises seven nuclear reactors to replace coal-fired power stations. Germany’s 2021 decision to abandon nuclear power left it dependent on coal and Russian gas, and will inevitably be reversed.
China, by far the world’s biggest coal user and the only major user where volume is increasing, will need to transition to nuclear generation.
Nuclear-powered cargo ships are being developed to replace the world’s 100,000-strong diesel-burning merchant fleet. Accepting them will be necessary to continue international trade.
With the US downgrading its security guarantees, its Indo-Pacific and European allies are debating how to establish new nuclear deterrents.
Among Nato’s Indo-Pacific Four (IP4), of which New Zealand is a member, South Korea is most serious. But even in Japan, questions are growing about whether it will need its own nuclear deterrent.
Both countries could develop nuclear weapons within months.
In Australia, our only formal military ally, the prestigious Lowy Institute has speculated whether an independent nuclear deterrent might follow its adoption of nuclear submarines in the 2030s. Even before Trump upended the old global order, polls indicated a third of Australians favoured it.
Even if Australia doesn’t adopt nuclear weapons, either our military alliance or nuclear-free laws will need to be reconsidered when its nuclear-powered submarines arrive.
In Europe, Poland is debating whether it needs its own nuclear deterrent against Russia which, along with Germany, killed over 20% of its citizens in the Second World War.
German discourse isn’t far behind.
France, whose nuclear deterrent is already completely independent from the US, is considering leading the development of a much stronger European nuclear umbrella. The UK is musing whether to collaborate with France to achieve technological independence from the US.
If the US continues to threaten their borders, Canada and perhaps Mexico may also prefer protection from a European rather than US nuclear deterrent.
The Chinese and Indian nuclear arsenals continue to grow.
If the First Cold War was mainly a bipolar struggle between the US and the then USSR, the second will be a multipolar contest involving five nuclear-armed blocs.
New Zealand will need to decide which to be aligned with, if any.
The default position could be called the Winston Peters approach, which he has pursued as Foreign Minister under Helen Clark more aggressively than under Dame Jacinda Ardern and Christopher Luxon.
It sees New Zealand seek a stronger relationship with the US, encouraging it to increase engagement in the South Pacific to counter China.
Certainly prior to Trump’s return, that made some sense, given our military alliance with Australia and its deputy-sheriff role for the US.
Deputy Prime Minister Winston Peters. Photo / Mark Mitchell
Peters, Defence Minister Judith Collins and Australian Deputy Prime Minister Richard Marles last year confirmed “the enduring nature of the Anzus Treaty, which continues to underpin the strategic relationship between the two countries”.
Under the Peters approach, joining pillar two of Aukus would also make sense, assuming it survives Trump.
A second option is the Ardern-Hipkins-Luxon approach, emphasising the IP4 and Nato.
Right now, that’s still reconcilable with the Peters approach, but only if the US remains in Nato. Should the gap between the US and Nato keep growing, New Zealand – and more importantly Australia, Japan and South Korea – must choose.
Both the Peters and Ardern-Hipkins-Luxon approaches demand Finance Minister Nicola Willis increase defence spending to 2% of GDP over the next four years, and then above 3%, towards the new Nato target.
Reaching 2% of GDP would cost about $5 billion a year. Double that for 3%.
Willis’ spending allowances would be breached. Kiwis would have to pay more tax or face fiscal ruin earlier than currently forecast.
A third option could be called the Clark approach, involving a careful reversal of Ardern, Hipkins and Luxon’s tilt towards Nato.
Clark was no pacifist, admiring Prime Minister Peter Fraser’s war leadership in the 1940s after he opposed involvement in World War I.
The Clark approach involves maintaining our military alliance with Australia and even staying in Five Eyes – or Four Eyes, if the US starts risking the others’ intelligence operations.
Like Ireland, there’d be an army for disaster relief, peacekeeping and projects like mine clearing in Laos and Mozambique. We’d have as much naval and air patrol of our exclusive economic zone as Willis could sensibly fund.
The SAS would remain to conduct undercover commando-style operations as it did in Afghanistan, and army engineers to help out as in Iraq.
But, as demonstrated by Clark’s different choices for those theatres, each deployment would be considered more on its merits as we perceive them and less on the views of other countries.
On procurement, the Clark approach implies less focus on interoperability with Australia. New Zealand would be freer to shop around for military equipment from other friendly major producers such as France, Germany, Italy, Spain and South Korea, rather than feel more limited to the US and UK.
Too radical for Clark is what could be called the Bob Jones approach.
In 1984, his New Zealand Party didn’t just presciently propose a more radical version of the Lange Government’s economic reforms but also its foreign policy.
Under this Jones approach, New Zealand would formally declare neutrality and abolish its armed forces, except for civil defence, relying for security on the stopping power of our 1500km moat. The money saved would be used to pay back debt, cut tax or for new spending, depending on your preference.
This makes some sense, since any great power capable of physically invading New Zealand must presumably first conquer Australia.
Contrary to Canberra’s view, a contemporary advocate of the Jones approach could thus argue our military alliance is a bit one-sided in Australia’s favour. We’re obligated to defend Australia’s territory were it attacked from its north, but by the time our territory could be seriously threatened, the invaders’ flag would presumably already fly over Canberra.
There is no escaping these choices. My heart lies with Peters, Ardern, Hipkins and Luxon. But, if we can’t afford it, or won’t reconsider our nuclear-free status, then my head suggests we’ll have to lean towards Clark and Jones.
Matthew Hooton has over 30 years’ experience in political and corporate communications and strategy for clients in Australasia, Asia, Europe and North America, including the National and Act parties and the Mayor of Auckland.
