Wednesday’s announcement of a new security treaty between Australia and Indonesia marks a meaningful shift in regional diplomacy. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and President Prabowo Subianto’s decision to formalise deeper security cooperation revives a familiar script, but under new circumstances. Negotiated quietly, few diplomats or analysts were aware it was in development.
While the full text has yet to be released, the government has said the treaty will commit both countries to ‘consult at leader and ministerial level on a regular basis about matters affecting their common security and to develop such cooperation as would benefit their own security and that of the region.’
The phrasing will sound familiar to seasoned observers. It mirrors the language of the two countries’ 1995 Agreement on Maintaining Security (AMS). Foreign Affairs Minister Penny Wong acknowledges the historical inspiration. The echoes are deliberate—and telling.
The AMS was the brainchild of prime minister Paul Keating, conceived as a form of non-aggression pact to restore trust after a period of tension that followed an Australian journalist’s reports of corruption allegations linked to the Suharto family. Beyond reconciliation, the AMS also recognised Indonesia’s growing regional stature and a shared sense of strategic unease. In 1995, Beijing was increasingly assertive in the South China Sea, particularly around Mischief Reef, and Jakarta’s relationship with Washington had cooled over human rights concerns. For Suharto, the AMS offered a stabilising framework.
Like its predecessor, the new treaty emerges in an anxious strategic moment, but this time the world is far more complex and contested. The region is now defined by intensifying strategic competition, accelerating technological disruption and steady erosion of global norms.
Australia and Indonesia share a growing sense of unease that is increasingly outward-facing over the militarisation of the South China Sea, the reach of China’s influence across the Indo-Pacific, and uncertainty about US global leadership.
These shared concerns have driven Canberra and Jakarta to seek stronger, institutionalised habits of consultation with one another. While the region may be changing at breakneck speed, geographical proximity endures, and the new treaty is a recognition of that immutable fact.
But this security agreement should not be read as a military alliance. Indonesia’s non-aligned tradition remains a central pillar of its foreign policy. The country is, by historical instinct and political identity, allergic to any defence pact that might be seen as targeting a particular country, especially China. Jakarta will not commit to Australia’s security and would not expect Canberra to commit to Indonesia’s.
The treaty is better understood as a mechanism for regular dialogue and confidence-building rather than mutual defence.
We should expect Prabowo’s approach to foreign policy to remain pragmatic. Guided by the dictum ‘one thousand friends and zero enemies’, Indonesia will keep courting a wide array of partners. The president has strengthened ties with the United States and France, expanded relations with Russia, and deepened cooperation with China, including through new frameworks for defence collaboration. Within this balancing act, the Australia–Indonesia relationship occupies a special niche: among all of Jakarta’s security partnerships, it remains among the most comprehensive, institutionalised and resilient.
For Australia, Indonesia’s strategic weight in the region is indispensable. A stable and confident Indonesia contributes directly to Australia’s own security and to regional equilibrium. For Indonesia, closer ties with Australia bring access to training and strategic dialogue that can enhance its defence modernisation agenda. The relationship, though never simple, is increasingly grounded in pragmatism and respect.
Above all, the new treaty signifies renewed trust – precisely at a time when trust among states is increasingly under strain. After decades of oscillation from cooperation to crisis and back again, the two countries are signalling a willingness to engage candidly, even when they disagree.
But trust should not be mistaken for alignment. Differences will persist, particularly on China and how best to navigate intensifying strategic competition. Yet by creating space to air those differences candidly through regular dialogue, both sides are choosing transparency over drift. That choice alone makes the treaty significant.
Crucially, the treaty’s broadened scope opens space for cooperation on hybrid threats— activities that blend conventional and unconventional tools, including cyber operations, disinformation and economic coercion. As my colleague Euan Graham and I have argued in an ASPI report, these challenges increasingly shape both countries’ strategic assessments, and addressing them effectively requires coordinated, cross-sector resilience-building. The new framework puts Australia and Indonesia in a stronger position to pursue that cooperation.
The value, therefore, lies not in the strict wording of the clauses but in the habit of consultation—insurance against miscalculation in an era of geopolitical flux.
This is not a grand alliance or a strategic revolution. It is a sign of maturity, a pragmatic understanding that trust, once institutionalised, can be more powerful than any promise of force. In a region where misunderstanding too easily leads to escalation, that habit of honest consultation may prove the most valuable clause of all.