‘Sovereignty’ is one of the most frequently invoked and most poorly understood terms in Australian strategic debate. It dominates arguments against AUKUS, US military presence in Australia, and our deepening alliance with Washington, yet it remains largely undefined in policy discourse. If Australia is to preserve and exercise absolute sovereignty in a contested world, we must start by understanding what the concept means and what it does not.
In international relations theory, sovereignty traditionally refers to the supreme authority of the state over its territory, population and decisions, free from external interference. In the post-Westphalian world, it has underpinned the legal and political order of states. However, in the 21st century, this once-absolute notion has evolved. Sovereignty is now negotiated through treaties, trade, alliances, intelligence sharing and multilateral institutions. It’s less about total independence and more about maintaining credible decision-making power within complex networks of interdependence.
In Australia, however, the public and political debate often lags behind this reality. Sovereignty is too often framed as a binary: either we’re completely in control, or we’ve surrendered autonomy. This framing is strategically misleading and intellectually lazy. It turns complex decisions—such as whether to host US forces in Darwin or acquire nuclear-powered submarines—into false choices between self-reliance and subservience. In this environment, sovereignty becomes less a foundation of policy and more a political slogan.
US policymakers, by contrast, find Australia’s obsession with sovereignty perplexing. In the United States, sovereignty is a given, deeply ingrained in every institution, strategy and mindset. US officials are often bewildered when Australians raise concerns that alliance cooperation might compromise sovereignty. Their response is usually straightforward: if your elected government made a sovereign decision to pursue this partnership with parliamentary authority and public mandate, how can sovereignty be at risk?
The disconnect reveals profound cultural and historical differences. As the late Allan Gyngell observed, Australian foreign and defence policy has long been shaped by a ‘fear of abandonment’. First dependent on Britain and later on the US, Australia has repeatedly sought the protection of larger powers while simultaneously resenting the strategic asymmetries such protection brings. That legacy lives on. Sovereignty anxiety in Australia is less about law and more about symbolism, about whether we are truly acting in our own best interests or merely following others.
Unfortunately, the sovereignty debate has also been hijacked by populist commentators and fringe political actors who reduce it to a blunt ideological tool. On one side, some social media influencers and minor party figures portray every act of alliance cooperation as evidence of Australia becoming a US puppet, echoing Cold War anti-Americanism dressed up in digital-age outrage. On the other, a different fringe demands greater ‘strategic independence’ by embracing deeper economic and diplomatic alignment with China, ignoring Beijing’s well-documented coercive behaviour and rejection of liberal international norms.
Both positions, whether reflexively anti-American or naively pro-China, are strategically incoherent. They reduce sovereignty to a bumper sticker—an assertion of victimhood or defiance, unmoored from institutional realities or policy consequences. These views fail to recognise that partnerships don’t compromise sovereignty. It’s compromised by ignorance, dependency and a lack of credible capability.
Criticisms of initiatives such as AUKUS and the presence of US forces often reflect a deeper strategic insecurity rather than a loss of sovereignty. Detractors claim these arrangements compromise Australian autonomy by tying us too closely to US strategic objectives or embedding foreign forces on our soil. However, such views overlook a fundamental truth: these are sovereign decisions made by the Australian government through democratic processes in pursuit of our national interest. They were neither imposed nor coerced; instead, they were debated, negotiated and enacted by elected leaders who are accountable to the public. Far from diminishing sovereignty, AUKUS and the presence of US forces are expressions of it. They aim to strengthen Australia’s deterrence posture, build sovereign capability and ensure we have the tools to act independently when it matters most.
Indeed, cooperating with allies doesn’t inherently erode sovereignty. Instead, it can enhance it by increasing our strategic weight, expanding our capability options, and strengthening deterrence. Sovereignty isn’t just the ability to say no; it is also the power to say yes—on our terms. True sovereignty lies in the capacity to shape our environment, exercise choice and influence outcomes, not in strategic solitude.
This is not to say that sovereignty concerns are without merit. Strategic dependence, particularly in defence industry, technology, or intelligence, can undermine sovereignty if it limits options or creates vulnerability. That’s why Australian governments continue to emphasise sovereign industrial capability, sovereign decision-making and national resilience. These aren’t empty catchphrases; they reflect a clear understanding that sovereignty must be backed by capability.
But too often, sovereignty becomes a rhetorical weapon used to attack cooperation rather than evaluate whether it serves or undermines our interests. The danger is that we undermine our own agency by clinging to a mythical version of sovereignty that never truly existed. We risk confusing autonomy with isolation.
To move forward, we need to mature our national understanding of sovereignty. That starts with education. The concept of sovereignty, its history, its modern definition, and its practical application should be integrated into school curricula. Young Australians should understand that sovereignty is dynamic, not static. It’s about making credible choices in a world of complex relationships.
Second, policymakers and leaders must be more deliberate in explaining how sovereignty is exercised through partnerships. Rather than defensively countering sovereignty critiques, governments should proactively articulate how such initiatives as AUKUS or shared basing arrangements enhance our ability to protect national interests.
Third, we must continue to invest in the capabilities that make sovereignty real. That includes resilient supply chains, robust critical infrastructure, secure communications and sovereign decision-making in defence, intelligence and technology. Sovereignty without the means to act is sovereignty in name only.
Finally, the national security community, think tanks, media and academics must work to sharpen public understanding. We should reject simplistic binaries and foster a more nuanced discourse. Sovereignty is not eroded by cooperation but by dependency without agency.
Sovereignty will always be central to Australia’s national security debate. But invoking the word isn’t enough. We need to understand it, define it and defend it not as a relic of strategic nostalgia but as a living, evolving capacity to act in the national interest. The real question is not whether we’re sovereign but whether we’re exercising that sovereignty with clarity, confidence and purpose.