Let's be neutral but well-armed as well

By JOHN RUCK*

What is it about defence that so polarises New Zealanders? On the one hand is the gung-ho brigade who would revive the corpse of a dead alliance and follow George W. Bush on a personal, and largely irrelevant, crusade against Iraq.

On the other are the peacemongers who would leave us, figuratively speaking, without an arrow to shoot.

In the middle is former Prime Minister Mike Moore, who tried in a Dialogue article to make sense of it all. Should there be a debate on defence policy as he suggests? We certainly need one.

In one respect, Mr Moore is right: Pacifism is not an option. In international affairs, history has shown repeatedly that the weak get bullied. Never mind those noble ideas about setting the world an example.

The big players ignored New Zealand's hopeful lead when we adopted free trade in the 1980s. They ignored our lead again when we went nuclear-free. So if we disarmed, the world would follow? Yes - and Saddam Hussein is an angel.

Neutrality is a different matter. It is not the same as pacifism, although Mr Moore confuses the two. It is simply a refusal to become enmeshed in other people's wars.

Armed neutrality - both words are important - is a perfectly feasible option in a country that is geographically isolated and, therefore, difficult to attack; which produces no strategically important materials such as oil; and which is not the hinge or pivot from which an attack on a bigger or more important country can be launched.

Switzerland, a neutral for two centuries in a swirl of wars, is a good example. In both World Wars the Germans could have conquered it. But for what gain? And at what cost?

New Zealand's situation is similar. Between it and any hostile power to the north is a whole continent. Much of this is desert offering no succour - not even water - to a potential invader. The rest is well defended by a resolute population.

Immediately around New Zealand is a vast ocean. Except to a country with a huge air armada - and there is only one of those - the prospect for a would-be attacker is an armed landing on a hostile shore.

As Gallipoli showed, this is the most difficult military operation of all. Or, rather, it would be if our armed services were decently equipped.

This does not mean that the sound of gunfire next door should make us put our heads under the blankets and our fingers in our ears. We do have responsibilities to our close neighbours.

If Australia were attacked, we should have to help. Ditto if elements of the Indonesian military, trying to distract attention from internal problems, decided on an incursion into East Timor or eastern New Guinea - both claimed by militant Islamists as part of Indonesia.

In any such case, a response would need to be quick. This presupposes fast, reliable air transport to land a ready-response force or evacuate New Zealand civilians. In this respect the Air Force's equipment is grossly inadequate.

It also implies a need for missile-equipped air cover because infantrymen - even peacekeepers - are vulnerable to any kind of armoured attack, and practically naked against artillery or even mortars.

But the immediate neighbourhood is where our involvement should stop. And when the trumpets sound again for the war against terror, New Zealand should ignore them.

Why? Because President Bush's conventional territorial war will not defeat the sneaky malevolence of Islamist terrorists, from al Qaeda or wherever else. If Afghanistan is any guide, this war will flatten much of Iraq and leave it in ruins - a gift to Islamist propagandists throughout the Muslim world, making a bad scene worse.

Why else? Because American nervousness about incurring casualties means this war could easily end in a cock-up like Gulf War I.

Because, as the Bali bombing showed, our involvement would increase the risk of a terror attack in New Zealand, for no corresponding increase in our overall security.

Because New Zealanders fought in six major wars in the 20th century, half of them probably unjustified, and incurred 104,700 casualties. And that means, with 190 countries in the United Nations, it is surely someone else's turn.

But would staying neutral cost us the assurance of American support if ever New Zealand were threatened?

No, because no such assurance exists. Since Somali militiamen dealt the US Rangers a painful lesson (18 dead, 84 wounded) in Mogadishu in 1993, the US has shown no appetite for other people's wars. Its outlook, if one heeds either politicians or media, is totally self-centred.

When in 1999 Australian peacekeepers entered East Timor, a situation fraught with danger, the US refused to supply its own ally with either men or equipment. And when Australia suffered its own September 11 this year, American indifference to its trauma was in striking contrast to the worldwide outpouring of sympathy that greeted the attacks on New York and Washington.

"How will it affect America?" was about the only thing that mattered. So the belief that the US would rush to defend little New Zealand is just wishful thinking.

Australia, nearer the front line than New Zealand, may feel that following the US into war is an insurance against unforeseen events.

New Zealand's best insurance, on the other hand, is a sensible upgrading of our services equipment, plus sensible precautions against terror: tight border controls, internal vigilance and civil defence preparedness against a possible horror.

Helping to flatten Middle Eastern countries is a bit irrelevant.

* New Zealander John Ruck is a former editor of British magazine War Monthly.

Further reading
nzherald.co.nz/defence