In the intricate dance of international diplomacy, Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has positioned himself as a pragmatic leader navigating the treacherous waters between superpowers. Yet, a recent controversy surrounding China's expanding influence in the Solomon Islands highlights what appears to be a glaring inconsistency in his approach to foreign policy commentary. On one hand, Albanese has steadfastly refused to comment on Beijing's intrusive "community policing" program in the Pacific nation, a scheme involving the fingerprinting of citizens and the collection of household data, which critics label as authoritarian surveillance. On the other, he has shown no such restraint when critiquing aspects of U.S. politics under President Donald Trump, from trade tariffs to broader societal polarisation. This selective morality raises questions about consistency, national interests, and the principles guiding Australia's global engagement.
The Solomon Islands episode, detailed in recent reporting, underscores the growing footprint of China in Australia's immediate neighbourhood. Under the guise of a "community policing" initiative, Chinese police liaison teams are collaborating with local authorities to gather biometric data and personal information from Solomon Islanders. Opposition figures in Honiara, such as election candidate Celsus Talifilu, have decried it as a violation of citizens' rights, pointing to Beijing's sophisticated propaganda efforts that have swayed public opinion. "On Facebook people say, 'No, they are doing a good job'." The way China is running its propaganda here is pretty intense," Talifilu observed. This program is part of a broader influence campaign, including all-expenses-paid trips to China for MPs and public servants, and a $11 million fund accessible only to pro-China politicians. Despite these revelations emerging during Albanese's attendance at the Pacific Islands Forum in the Solomons, the Prime Minister dismissed questions about it outright. "I don't talk to them about events between countries which don't involve Australia," he stated, emphasising his focus on bilateral ties rather than third-party matters. Bad luck, Tibet.
This hands-off stance contrasts sharply with Labor's previous rhetoric. While in opposition, Albanese's party lambasted the Morrison government's handling of a 2022 secret security pact between China and the Solomon Islands as "the worst Australian foreign policy bungle in decades." That deal paved the way for Chinese ship visits, stopovers, and now a permanent police presence. Yet, now in power, Albanese's administration has opted for silence, even as former Home Affairs secretary Mike Pezzullo warns of "deep concern" over the importation of "surveillance and authoritarian oppression" into a nation rooted in British rule of law traditions. Opposition foreign affairs spokeswoman Michaelia Cash accused Albanese of "deliberately ignoring this very concerning development in Australia's backyard," while ex-Liberal defence minister Linda Reynolds called the fingerprinting "Orwellian" and a "hallmark of fascist states."
Albanese's reticence here is framed as diplomatic prudence, avoiding interference in sovereign affairs to preserve regional stability. But it smacks of selective engagement when juxtaposed against his willingness to opine on U.S. internal dynamics under Trump. During the lead-up to Australia's 2025 federal election, Albanese drew explicit parallels between Trump and opposition leader Peter Dutton, portraying a potential Coalition government as a Trumpian import that would "Americanise" Australian politics. "I think Australians look at the United States, and they see a society that is really conflicted, is really polarised, that's not healthy. They don't want that here," he told News.com.au, using Trump's polarising style as a foil to rally voters against Dutton's policies on issues like remote work and health. Labor's campaign even mocked Coalition figures for echoing Trump, labelling them "Doge-y" and highlighting merchandise like "Make Australia Great Again" hats.
Even post-election, with Trump back in the White House, Albanese has not shied away from critiquing American policies when they impact Australia. He slammed Trump's decision to double steel and aluminium tariffs to 50% as "an act of economic self-harm" and "inappropriate," rejecting it as "not the act of a friend." Albanese has also rebuffed U.S. demands to hike Australia's defence spending to 3.5% of GDP, a push from Trump's Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth amid China tensions, asserting that "we'll determine our defence policy." While he maintains "warm and constructive" phone calls with Trump, discussing trade, critical minerals, and AUKUS, Albanese has downplayed the lack of a face-to-face meeting and pushed back on broader U.S. expectations, such as pre-committing to a hypothetical conflict over Taiwan. In one instance, he refused to comment on Trump's Oval Office spat with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, but vowed continued support for Kyiv, subtly distancing Australia from Trump's strongman tendencies toward allies.
This disparity isn't lost on observers. Why the vocal critique of U.S. tariffs and polarisation, which directly affect Australian exports and alliances, but silence on China's surveillance in the Pacific, which threatens regional security and democratic norms? One explanation lies in economic calculus: China remains Australia's largest trading partner, accounting for nearly a third of exports worth $312 billion in 2024, while the U.S. alliance provides strategic depth, but comes with volatile demands under Trump. Albanese's recent visit to Beijing, where he met Xi Jinping to "stabilise the relationship," exemplifies this pragmatic tilt, focusing on economic ties while deflecting U.S.-China frictions. Critics, however, see it as moral equivocation, prioritising trade over values. As Lowy Institute's Mihai Sora notes, China's tactics like the fingerprinting program could have a "chilling effect" on Pacific security institutions, exporting surveillance that reshapes citizen-government relations. Talifilu's observation that Solomon Islanders are "captivated by the new friend" (China) while taking Australia's aid for granted as the "old friend" only amplifies the irony.
Albanese's defenders might argue that his approach is principled realpolitik: commenting on U.S. issues advances direct Australian interests, like tariff exemptions (where Australia fared better than most allies), whereas meddling in Solomon Islands-China affairs risks escalating tensions without gain. He has, after all, taken veiled swipes at the Solomons for allowing Chinese police, urging Pacific nations to "look after our own security." Yet, the pattern suggests a selective morality, outspoken on the US flaws when politically expedient, mute on the rival's encroachments to avoid rocking the economic boat. In a world of U.S.-China rivalry, this tightrope walk may preserve short-term stability, but it erodes Australia's moral authority in advocating for transparency and democratic values, as Senator Cash urges.
Ultimately, Albanese's foreign policy reflects the constraints of a middle power caught between giants. But true leadership demands consistency: if fingerprinting in the Solomons warrants concern from Australian experts and opposition voices, it should not be off-limits for the Prime Minister. Silence on authoritarian overreach, while freely critiquing allied imperfections, risks signalling that principles bend to pragmatism. As China ramps up its Pacific influence, from judicial junkets to constituency cash, Australia must decide whether to lead by example or follow the path of least resistance. The stakes for regional democracy and our "backyard" are too high for selective restraint.