As the Cold War intensified in the mid fifties, Australia saw a special role for itself in disseminating information and propaganda in Southeast Asia, writes Alan Fewster
In for the long haul: Australia’s external affairs minister, Richard Casey, in 1957. Australian News and Information Bureau/ National Library of Australia nla.pic-an23287419 |
AS THE Manila treaty partners – Australia,
France, Great Britain, New Zealand, the Philippines, Thailand, Pakistan and the
United States – prepared for the first meeting of the South East Asian Treaty
Organisation, scheduled for Bangkok in February 1955, Australia’s prime
minister, Robert Menzies, had before him a Top Secret briefing paper arguing
that the Cold War was “generally agreed to have entered the period of the ‘long
haul.’” For Australian policy-makers, the paper said, this
implied that
earlier, ad hoc programs of defensive military and political preparations
needed to be replaced by “fully coordinated plans utilising the resources of
democratic countries… with due regard to their individual capacities and
particular regional interests.”
That January, Menzies’s cabinet had endorsed,
with what his minister for external affairs, Richard Casey, described as
“rather unusual enthusiasm,” a memorandum entitled “Australian Activities in
the Cold War.” According to the memorandum, which is available at the National
Archives of Australia, while Australia would certainly need to build up its
defences to deter or withstand military attack if it occurred, overt aggression
in Southeast Asia was highly unlikely in the period up to the end of 1956. The
main threat would be the intensification of the eight-year-old communist
insurgency in Malaya, which could, in the absence of effective countermeasures,
jeopardise Australia’s position in the region. (Australia would in fact send a
battalion of troops to Malaya in October 1955.) “Australia and the democratic
nations must… prevail,” said Casey, “so that the communists do not gain their
objective by subversion, infiltration and other non-military means.” The West
must be prepared to pursue Cold War policies “with no less energy than is
required for the preparedness of our armed forces.”
Casey identified four activities that Australia
could undertake within the existing Manila Treaty arrangements. It could exchange
information about communist activities and techniques and about
counter-measures. It could assist in developing local security forces, such as
police. It could deploy propaganda and information to combat communism. And it
could assist in eliminating communist influence and promote of “democratic and
pro-western influences” in civil society.
Acknowledging that the United States and
Britain carried the main burden of waging the cold war in the region, Casey
suggested that the government ask three questions when determining the precise
nature of Australia’s contribution. Is Australia’s contribution worthwhile in
itself? Would it encourage the United States and Britain to pay more attention
to the region? Would it give Australia more say in the discussion of regional
policy with those two allies?
Casey foresaw “no difficulties in principle” in
exchanging information with SEATO partners. In practice, matters would need to
be worked out on a case-by-case basis with the appropriate Australia military
and civil authorities. Likewise, although the British had a longstanding
interest in the field, Australia should be able to help train local security
forces.
It was in the area of propaganda and
information, however, and through eliminating communist influence from schools,
unions and the like, that Casey believed Australia could make a “significant”
contribution. Radio Australia’s news service, which had built a “valuable
reputation” for objectivity, had attracted a wide audience, particularly in
Indonesia, where signal reception was excellent. Radio Australia had already
decided to introduce a daily Mandarin Chinese session to supplement existing
programs broadcast in English, Indonesian and French. Casey argued the
desirability of increasing both the number and length of RA broadcasts and
increasing transmitting capacity.
Casey also thought it might be useful to try to
interest the ACTU in making contact with “free” trade unions, particularly in
Indonesia, where they were largely under communist control, with a view to
influencing their policies towards “democratic ends.” An Australian unionist
might be sent to the Jakarta embassy as a labour attaché, and the government
might sponsor visits to and from Australia by unionists and schoolteachers.
As officials had examined options should the
Cold War become hot, the shortage of Australians who spoke “far eastern
languages” had become quickly apparent. To remedy this, Casey thought that an
attempt might be made to introduce Indonesian and Malay language courses in
Australian universities with, “if necessary, inducements to undergraduates to
take them as part of a normal degree course.”
Casey conceded that these plans would not be
cost-free, but argued that “not a large sum” was involved. In the case of Radio
Australia, the income the ABC received from listeners’ radio licences would
need to be supplemented by government, but any additional cost would be “small
in relation to the military expenditure we must in any case contemplate.”
Expressing the view that the matters referred
to in his submission were “of the utmost importance,” cabinet invited Casey to
assume responsibility for coordinating cold war planning. With the
postmaster-general, Larry Anthony, he would prepare proposals for expanding the
activities of Radio Australia, and he would arrange for the external affairs
and prime minister’s departments to prepare proposals for the teaching of
Indonesian, Malaya and “possibly other languages” and to “look into the
question of combating subversive propaganda domestically.”
CASEY recalled a senior diplomat, J.D.L. Hood,
from Bonn to serve as his “senior backroom thinking boy” on Cold War matters.
As Casey told his Canadian opposite number, Lester Pearson, Hood, was “a fellow
with the sort of mind who might be good at this.” Reporting the Hood
appointment, the Melbourne Herald suggested that while his task may not be
easy, Hood, a former journalist, “may be the right man to make our case for
democracy convincing to the Asian mind.”
Hood’s boss, Arthur Tange, was not pleased by
the publicity and fired off a telegram to an official in London, Jim Plimsoll.
Indicating that he wanted public talk of Hood’s functions kept to an “absolute
minimum,” Tange said that while it may be inevitable and even desirable that
some of the government’s proposals be discussed, ultimately Australia would be
embarrassed by “persistent enquiries from other governments.” And if these
activities were described as Cold War exercises, “We shall make ourselves
suspect all over Asia.”
The secretary of the labour and national
service department, Henry Bland, doubted the wisdom of sending a trade unionist
to Jakarta. A Burmese union official had told him that the ACTU president,
Albert Monk, had been interested only in “the rights of trade unions and not
their obligations” during a visit to Rangoon. Most Australian unionists thought
only within the framework of the arbitration system, so they would be “quickly
out of their depth in an alien environment,” the Burmese (a Mr Ho), had said.
Bland suggested that it would perhaps be better to send to Jakarta someone from
his department who could “survey the trade union situation up there” and report
on the desirability of the appointment of a permanent labour attaché.
Writing from Rangoon, Australian diplomat Colin
Moodie, who knew Ho, shared his doubts about the perceived shortcomings of
Australian unionists as advisers, but was more sanguine about the outcome of a
short visit, “provided we had the right sort of man, i.e. a hard head, strong
stomach and a capacity for real interest in things Burmese.” Such a man should
not appear “too businesslike,” Moody thought, “or give the impression that he
is here to give them a few pointers. He should not talk at length about what we
have done… but show a willingness to listen to accounts of Burma’s difficulties
and problems and not be too ‘teaching’ about them.”
Officials from External Affairs and Prime
Minister’s conferred on the teaching of “oriental languages.” External Affairs
favoured the encouragement of the study of Indonesian in Sydney and Melbourne
in the first instance, on the basis that better quality staff and students
might be available in those cities. A Dr Mendelsohn from Prime Minister’s
thought that a “primary question” to be decided was whether “we wanted to have
only language technicians for defence and other purposes or wether we hoped to
have a number of Indonesian scholars whose academic standards were high.”
Mendelsohn’s interlocutor, John Quinn, replied that the immediate need seemed
to be for the former but “the latter would not be excluded from our plans.”
Quinn suggested that it was important that the government find out what
facilities existed for teaching Indonesian in Australia and whether it would be
possible to obtain teachers from overseas.
Casey instructed his department to obtain
detailed reports on American and British efforts to combat communist subversion
in Southeast Asia. From Washington and London came long telegrams setting out
in minute detail the priorities of the US Information Service and the British
Information Policy Department, which had oversight of Britain’s overt overseas
propaganda. Part of the British effort was the Foreign Office’s Information
Research Department, which handled unattributable anti-communist propaganda
codenamed the “grey material,” which External Affairs was already receiving.
External Affairs’ information branch suggested
that in addition to organising visits of Southeast Asian journalists to
Australia, the government might make films focusing on SEATO itself, the
Colombo Plan, Asian students in Australia, trade unionism, progress towards
self-government in dependent territories the “equalitarian” nature of
Australian society and the techniques of communist infiltration and subversion.
Another idea, assisting selected newspapers to improve their quality and
circulation, would soon be echoed in a top secret report Casey had commissioned
from a British intelligence officer, Dudley Wrangel Clarke, on clandestine Cold
War propaganda.
According to an External Affairs paper drafted
at the time, feudal habits were so deeply rooted, and the exploitation of
public office for personal ends so endemic in the region, that that the
application of reform programs would be difficult. In supporting non-communist
regimes, the West must ensure that the leaders of those administrations did not
exploit “unduly… for their own ends,” either monetary or moral support. “We
should endeavour to see that the patience of the population is not extended too
far,” the paper said.
The West still needed to “convince the Asians
at large that the communists are their enemies and that we are their friends…
not only in fair weather but also when armed conflict threatens. We have to
assure them that we are prepared to fight not only for our national
investments… but also to preserve their freedom and what is important for
them.” It was particularly important that the West resist thinking that Asians
were “more expendable than our own forces and civilian populations.”
According to External Affairs, a factor working
in the West’s favour was the distrust of the Chinese felt throughout Southeast
Asia and the strong desire in the region to find a “counterweight” to Chinese
influence. “The austere ideology of Communism does not appeal to most people in
the area and they would much prefer to be left alone than organised in the
communist fashion.” Although nationalist administrations had been set up in
former colonies to provide and outlet for “ambitious young patriots,” these
people may become impatient with the weakness and inefficiency of these regimes
and may be attracted by the “more efficacious Chinese methods of organisation.”
It was, therefore, important that efforts be made to strengthen the authority
of the “state apparatus” to maintain anti-communist regimes in power.
As a country with virtually no colonial
baggage, Australia had a better standing in Southeast Asia than either Britain
or the United States, External Affairs believed. Australia’s continuing
effectiveness as an “interpreter” for the Great Powers of the democratic world
depended on continued recognition of her independent outlook. “Already, we tend
to be associated, by the more ‘neutralist’ Asian opinion, with US policies
including those… that find least favour in Asia… We should try to preserve the
independent standing which enables us to offer advice and assistance of the
kind which when provided by greater powers are likely to be suspected.”
IN EARLY February, Casey and the British
Commissioner General for Southeast Asia, Malcolm MacDonald, met in Scotland to
discuss cold war planning. McDonald thought there was room for improving
propaganda in Southeast Asia. In Thailand, for example, a major US effort was
“somewhat blatant” and strongly anti-communist in tone. This was quite unsuited
to “the ignorant peasantry” who might well not know that communism existed,
still less what it was. Such propaganda served to arouse interest in communism,
MacDonald said, and was therefore likely to backfire. The best propaganda
publicised the virtues of non-communist governments and emphasised what they
were doing for the country. Thus, in Vietnam, the West should “for the present
try to sell [Ngo Dinh] Diem.” Indonesia was “more difficult” because the
government “were such a poor bunch,” but even there it was desirable to support
them against the communists.
Casey told MacDonald of two Australian
innovations: to provide community radio receivers to assist in the distribution
of government propaganda, and to have Australian posts in the region obtain
from their host governments points that could usefully be made on Radio
Australia programs.
Both men bemoaned the lack of a positive
philosophy which the West could develop and sell “instead of constantly taking
the defensive position.” Some of those present thought that one of the virtues
of “our way of life” was that it did not put forward one way of life but
stressed the right of everyone to think and act as he pleased.
By June 1955, cabinet had approved the
appointment of members of the Australian News and Information Bureau as
information officers in Bangkok and Jakarta. Radio Australia was recruiting
broadcasters in Mandarin, Indonesian and Thai, and additional journalists would
also be appointed to prepare a short news commentary five days a week in close
consultation with the Department of External Affairs.
In discussions with Hood, a “much more
important aspect” had dawned on the director-general of posts and telegraphs,
Sir Giles Chippendall. This was that “if the Cold War continued for a lengthy
period, or if it developed into a Hot War” an increase in Radio Australia’s
broadcasting facilities would be necessary. This, too, proved a not
insurmountable hurdle, and £110,000 was quickly found for this purpose. At the
same time, there came news that the universities of Sydney and Melbourne had
agreed to introduce courses in Indonesian and Malay – again, provided that
additional funding could be organised. A “specialist in films” would also be
appointed as a field distribution officer for Southeast Asia, headquartered in
Singapore or Kuala Lumpur. The ABC would appoint a “special representative”
based in Singapore, whose duties would include “reporting on the general
requirements of the area with a view to ensuring the maximum impact of Radio
Australia programmes.”
All of this was brought together in policy
guidance issued to all posts by External Affairs in November 1955. Headed “Future
Development of Australian Information Activities,” this was a blueprint for the
conduct of Australian Cold War propaganda in South and Southeast Asia.
According to the policy, a “positive attitude”
should be adopted to countering the appeal of communism. This should entail
promoting an appreciative understanding of democratic principles, institutions
and methods, as well as exposing the danger of communist doctrine and policies.
Posts should discuss world problems in ways appreciative of the interests of
Asians. “We should … stress our relatively advanced development but at the same
time indicate that we have many economic and defence problems in common.”
Posts were also told to encourage the idea that
although the region needed outside assistance, the solution to its problems
should properly come from the efforts of its people. The advantages should be
emphasised of voluntary cooperation on defence, development and social welfare,
and the importance stressed of countries in the region supporting the United
Nations. In this context, Australians
realised that their own future was bound up with that of the whole Asia Pacific
region. This was “one of the most important reasons why we are so anxious to
cooperate with our neighbours.” The
policy stressed that in offering assistance to Southeast Asia, “we are not
seeking to secure special privileges or influence.” Australia was not a
militarist power and our influence need not be feared – “on the contrary, the
existence of a stable neighbour should be a source of reassurance.”
An “individual” Australian point of view should
be maintained, posts were told. Officials were enjoined to contest any
“automatic assumption” that Australia’s policy would necessarily be identical
with that of Britain or the United States, although attention could be drawn to
the advantages of cooperation with them.
The policy document noted that criticism of
Australia in the region primarily arose as a result of the White Australia
Policy and Australia’s support for the Netherlands retention of West New
Guinea. Wherever possible, it was best to avoid discussing these policies; if
unavoidable, they should be presented as being based on “legitimate
considerations of national welfare… and not involving any animosity towards
Asians.” Similarly, the government was concerned to dispel the notion that
Australia’s interest in Southeast Asia was confined to using it as a strategic
buffer, and that its motives were reflected by “our close identity with United
States defence and political policy.”
In 1956, the United States would use SEATO to
justify its refusal to proceed with reunification elections, and later,
Vietnam’s status as an “observer” at SEATO as legal cover to prosecute a war
against the north. As the conflict unfolded, Australia, by virtue of its
membership of the ANZUS alliance, also became embroiled, escalating its
commitment in 1966. In declaring that Australia would go “all the way with LBJ”
in Vietnam, Menzies’s successor, Harold Holt, swallowed the line that the Asian
dominoes would fall if South Vietnam collapsed, thereby endangering Australia.
For Holt, it seemed, “the long haul” had only just begun.
----
A former journalist with the Fairfax and
Murdoch presses, Alan Fewster joined the Department of Foreign Affairs and
Trade in 1989, serving in Port Moresby and Harare. He is the author of Capital
Correspondent: The Canberra Letters of Edwin Charles 1936–37 (Ginninderra
Press, 2002); Trusty and Well Beloved: A Life of Keith Officer, Australia’s
First Diplomat (Miegunyah Press, 2009), and The Bracegirdle Incident (Arcadia,
2013). He is currently working on a biography of Sir Keith Waller.
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