The Leaky Barge

2015-04-17T16:11:00.001-07:00

Complexities & Challenges of Cooperation to Provide Security At Sea

2015-04-06T21:40:00.001-07:00

Abstract

In the post-Cold War era, maritime security changed from emphasizing strategic deterrence to focusing more on regions and non-traditional facets. Greater weight was given to international law and cooperation between states. In the post-Cold War era, states could choose security partners. Nevertheless, cooperation between states to provide security at sea was still a sensitive and complex aspect of international relations. This research compares cooperative security behaviour of states within two regions by focusing on law enforcement at sea, a non-traditional facet of maritime security, and by questioning the significance of confidence building in facilitating maritime security cooperation. Cooperation is possible if proposed agreements have an underlying coherent, formal, and consensus-built legal framework supporting region-specific and regionally-built mechanisms. From a perspective of security regime building, when not burdened by Cold War priorities and a bi-polarised international security structure, states will agree to principles, rules, and norms that control their behaviour when they are confident that their sovereignty will be respected and that such cooperation aligns with their national security interests. A comparative analysis builds on existing regime theory, examining the evolving security environment, and asking; what are the influencing factors leading states toward maritime security cooperation, and what factors keep them apart?

[An edited version of this paper - originally a post-graduate thesis - continues below. A methodology chapter has been omitted to keep things simple but is available on request: tim.martin@deakin.edu.au ]

Chapter 1: Introduction

2015-04-06T18:12:00.001-07:00

Chapter One

1.1 Introduction

In the period immediately after the end of the Cold War, as the bi-polar superpower security structure ended in 1989-91, changes in the nature of security affected how states cooperated to enforce law at sea. Enforcing law at sea is a specific activity conducted by armed marine authorities such as navy, coast guard, or water police and is a non-traditional facet of international maritime security. [2] Law enforcement at sea is the practice of pursuing, intercepting, boarding and searching vessels, making arrests where necessary. It is an activity that often takes place outside state territories, and is subject to international maritime law, Consequently, international law enforcement at sea raises questions about authority, jurisdiction and the territorial sovereignty of states. International law enforcement at sea is influenced by, or subject to, international conventions, codes and treaties that comprise the bulk of international law. Consequently, international law enforcement at sea can be a complex legal and practical activity in practice, and is distinctly different to municipal policing operations, because it requires a degree of cooperation between various international actors - most significantly, states - to avoid possibly serious security or relational consequences of security misunderstandings.[3]

Since law enforcement at sea can take place within or between territorial seas, or upon the high seas, it therefore requires that states have a physical and legal capacity to conduct operations.[4] In order to practice law enforcement at sea, states must possess a physical capacity to do so, usually in the form of maritime patrol vessels and aircraft but just as important is the clarification between states about territorial jurisdiction, rights of vessels at sea, and sovereignty of states in whose maritime territory suspect vessels may be pursued and boarded. It is therefore essential that states engaged in non-traditional maritime security have clear understandings in place in the form of bilateral or multilateral agreements, or be party to international conventions regarding its practice if they are to avoid misunderstandings that might lead to conflict.

The end of the Cold War and the attacks against the United States on 11 September 2001 were watershed events that have influenced the meaning of security, and the way that states approach non-traditional maritime security cooperation. One consequence is that the priorities of states regarding maritime security have evolved from emphasizing Cold War strategic deterrence and a bi-polar security paradigm, to emphasizing regions and non-traditional threats, such as the enforcement of the codes treaties and conventions that comprise the greater part of international law at sea.

1.2 Central Argument

This paper argues that, security cooperation at sea is possible if proposed agreements have an underlying coherent, formal and consensus-built legal framework supporting region-specific and regionally built mechanisms. From a perspective of security regime building, states will agree to principles, rules, and norms that control their behaviour when they are confident of respect for sovereignty, and that such cooperation aligns with their national security interests. A comparative analysis is made of cooperation among states in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia and an argument made that builds upon existing regime theory, incorporating elements of realist and liberalist ideas about the way that states cooperate. The purpose of this research is to examine changing security cooperative behaviour of states within two regions, by focussing on law enforcement at sea, a non-traditional facet of maritime security, and questioning the significance of confidence building in facilitating maritime security cooperation. The research asks, in this evolving security environment, what are the influencing factors leading states to maritime security cooperation and what are the influencing factors keeping them apart?

1.3 Methodology

Chapter Three (not included in this post but available on request - email the author at tim.martin@deakin.edu.au ) a method of comparative analysis of security cooperation among states in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia is used to investigate this paper's thesis. Despite the more obvious differences between the two regions, certain similarities were apparent in the immediate period following the end of the Cold War. Of particular interest has been the influence and involvement of the United States, and the reliance on international law to protect territorial sovereignty of states, when managing law enforcement at sea.

1.4 Background to the Research

Maritime Security Regimes

Security as a feature of the international system of states has a long tradition of power politics. Within and between states, as well as within the political structure of the system of states and within regions, the study of security has had a military-political foundation, associated with threats to and by states and other international actors. Therefore international security has been a study of the way that states have related on matters of conflict and war, and determinations of legitimate and non-legitimate use of force in the international system of states.[5] Joseph Camilleri argues that the state’s centrality in providing security - protecting the integrity of the state and its citizens - has declined with challenges to the capacity of states to defend increasingly porous borders.[6]

Regime theories that during the Cold War had equated security with military and state-centred views became more inclusive of non-traditional aspects.[7] At the same time, in the post-Cold War era, the structure of the international system remained dependant on the stability provided by a few major maritime powers.[8] By the end of the 1990s, two security perspectives prevailed; on the one hand, the security ‘wideners’, who argued that security could no longer be seen in isolation from broader world events, and on the other the ‘narrow’ security view that maintained a military and state-centric focus.[9] For the former, security was removed from the sole propriety of the state to other actors. Changing the referent object(s) of security in this way, notes David Mutimer, alters the ‘source and nature of threats … therefore the manner by which security can be achieved.’[10] Francisco Rojas-Aravena appears to support Barry Buzan’s widening of security concept, arguing that security is more inclusive than just military objectives, although interdependence and realist perspectives are not mutually exclusive.[11]

[t]he threats of the twenty-first century should take into consideration a number of aspects that go beyond strictly military variables and simultaneously incorporate economic, political, environmental and cultural issues. Phenomena associated with globalization, together with maintenance of national sovereignty, must be put into a synthetic context in which domestic and international phenomena are manifested simultaneously in widely varying aspects.[12]

Ideas about the utility of maritime security regimes have changed from bi-polar strategic mechanisms of the Cold War to a broader definition, encompassing bilateral and multilateral mechanisms that regulate and coordinate law enforcement at sea. Although widely discussed in general terms, academic studies about the post-Cold War era regimes that regulate and coordinate law enforcement at sea, implicate certain actors, such as the United States and the United Nations, as having a great deal of influence over how such non-traditional maritime security cooperation occurs.[13] Predictions that significant non-traditional maritime security challenges lie ahead for smaller states often include the United States as the most significant international actor and security partner. For instance, the United States’ bilateral agreements with some Caribbean states have given it a ‘violence management’ role in ocean management and constabulary duties. The United States has sought to address narcotics smuggling, provide diplomacy, and establish an armed law enforcement presence at sea in the Caribbean and in Southeast Asia and Pacific regions. Determined in part by economic factors, these roles gained significance since Caribbean states claimed offshore maritime zones in accordance with developments in international law. A consequence of the expansion of maritime territories is that some Caribbean states have lacked a capacity to police their maritime zones. They have therefore faced the dilemma of accepting assistance offered by the United States while at the same time protecting their sovereignty from excessive interference that such assistance may entail.[14] The United States has in turn, referred to the international conventions created within the United Nations as these provide a legal framework for further international agreements.

Regional maritime security regime building provides a four-fold observation, according to Mark J. Valencia. First, the interplay between forces of integration and disintegration within a regional system; second, the growth or decline of an organisation; third, the establishment of links between one regional system and others within the same geographic location; and finally, the impact of organisations on the nature and use of the ocean space over which their activities extend.[15] In reference to counter piracy at sea operations, Michael Bahar advocates a security regime of ‘optimal deterrence’ that he considers a predetermined point between ‘maximum military pursuit and neglect’.[16] Whereas Bahar relies on states finding common ground for taking adequate responses, it nevertheless shares with Arthur A. Stein’s ‘common aversion’ the idea that each actor seeks acceptance of limitations of behaviour toward and co-jointly with, other members, and comes to agreement on a common course of action.[17] In common aversion regimes there is no agreement on the best outcome but all actors agree on which outcome to avoid. At the other extreme is isolation, whereby actors promote national interests by steering clear of entanglement with other states: a deliberate policy of restricting international interactions.[18]

Security Cooperation between States

In contemporary international relations, scholars have sought to study the behaviour of the international system by trying to understand security relations between states. Within the Caribbean and Southeast Asian systems, stability can be encouraged by a powerful state, such as the United States, having regional hegemony. Cooperation between actors is more likely given the presence of a powerful state.[19] If the true goal of cooperation for powerful states is regional hegemony, then presumably, by expanding its own influence, the United States seeks stability and other advantages over the other actors in the regional system. Stability favours trade but depends on the United States’ ability to project military power in support of its political objectives.[20] Michael Donelan argues that the rules and norms of international relations are just power politics translated into a different idiom, ‘a record of the methods and results of power politics’.[21] Jervis appears to support this position, questioning whether cooperation between states is possible; that lacking an overarching world authority to enforce international law, states weigh the benefits of cooperation against the risks of non-cooperation.[22] When states are reluctant to cooperate, it is possible that there are underlying self-interests that influence the strategic decision-making process.

Robert Jackson argues that political theory, international law and international theory are all part of the ‘one overall theory of the modern state’ and the system of states.[23] However, ‘international relations’ itself is terminology with inherently problematic connotations, inferring national rather than state relationships and often implying group action and participation by an interrelated world society, distinct from a ‘society of states’. Heterogeneous and integrated, this interrelated world society is also anarchic as it lacks an overarching central authority for the maintenance of law and order.[24] Opinion, leadership and the forces and interactions across national frontiers are constantly changing and stability of the international system is in a constant battle with change.[25] Past theories of relations between states included classical-realist discussions alluding to rivalry and enmity rather than cooperation, and examined the role of power in security relations between states.[26] Therefore, international theory has been a ‘theory of survival’ of the states themselves.[27]

As a maritime security peacekeeper, the United Nations has a significant role with regard to naval and law enforcement at sea cooperation.[28] According to A.E. Moodie, physical conditions and human activities on a global scale that finds expression in the foreign policies of other actors, influences the behaviour of international actors.[29] Maritime security ‘regimes’ are a system of rules that shape acceptable activities, according to the United States Coast Guard (USCG), linking ‘domain awareness’ and capabilities that comprise ‘ocean governance’. Therefore, ocean governance, regimes, domain awareness and capabilities are tools enabling marine authorities, such as the USCG, to respond to threats by managing current criminal and other activities at sea and assessing what is likely to happen in the future. This definition situates security regimes within a context of defence against civil threats to law and order.[30] Therefore, security regimes have meaning within particular contexts. Since the end of the Cold War, security has evolved to take on a wider meaning more inclusive of legal as well as practical cooperation.

The international characterization of ‘maritime security’ supports the inclusion of law enforcement at sea. ‘Maritime security’ is itself an imprecise term and like ‘law’ is conceptual rather than tangible. The United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI)[31] gives a broad definition of maritime security as the protection of the home state from attacks from the sea, against hostile forces upon the oceans. ONI includes as security threats at sea, drug traffickers, pirates, and terrorists. The ONI narrows maritime security down to a national security context of protecting all of a nation’s interests upon the seas.[32]

The terminology of maritime security sometimes merges with marine safety, since law enforcement at sea also takes on this other role. ‘Safety’ is arguably an outcome of security rather than the other way around, whilst ‘maritime’ refers to human activity on the world’s oceans, including navigation, naval affairs, shipping and commerce by sea. On the other hand, maritime ‘security’ can imply safety of sailors, defence of waterways and coastlines and provision of safe ports and harbours.[33] Safety is arguably an outcome of security rather than the other way around. The Lexington Institute reduces maritime security to simply being a ‘fancy way to describe safety at sea’, linking shipping companies, fishing fleets and navies with economic prosperity - all linked but not specifically defined as security issues.[34] On the other hand, Joseph L. Nimmich refers to the military-like nature of enforcing international law at sea, to the ‘sheer magnitude of the area of operations, the number of major assets employed, the necessity of effective command, control communication and intelligence, and operational planning all mirror military operational challenges and techniques’.[35] Although marine police and coast guards generally do not fulfil a strategic role, the presence of naval forces sends an unequivocal message of power. Law enforcement at sea is one aspect of security relations states have been more willing to cooperate with other marine authorities. Narcotics smuggling and piracy at sea are crimes associated with violence and terror; therefore, although they differ from acts of conflict or war between states that rely on military intervention, an armed policing authority is still necessary. Pirates and narcotics smugglers seek financial gain, rather than political goals, so that a law enforcement response by marine authorities can be more appropriate than conventional naval operations. Nevertheless, enforcing international or domestic law is an element of maritime security recognized by policing and naval authorities.[36]

Although the International Maritime Organisation (IMO) gives a definition of ‘maritime safety’, it does not define ‘maritime security’ at all, despite referring to both as integral IMO responsibilities.[37] A specialised agency of the United Nations, the IMO has a widely recognised, central role in security and safety at sea, working alongside many states, in particular the United States, developing international ‘treaties, guidelines and recommendations’ to prevent unlawful acts at sea. The IMO is therefore an international actor that is relevant to any discussion on cooperation at sea. With the support of almost all of the world’s 168 states with direct maritime interests, the IMO makes reference to piracy and armed robbery against ships at sea, the transport of weapons of mass destruction and narcotics smuggling, and cooperation at sea between states.[38] Although the IMO refers to United Nations Convention on Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) when negotiating legal conventions and treaties, the IMO is only mentioned once (Article 2 of Annex VIII) within UNCLOS.[39] Nevertheless, The IMO functions as a medium between the interests of states while UNCLOS[40] provides a legal framework for cooperation between states.[41]

Maritime security has evolved as the international political environment has shifted from the Cold War to the post-Cold War period. Consequently, the concept, definition and terminology of maritime security have also changed. During the Cold War, ‘maritime security’ referred to naval strategy and military doctrine to meet the priorities of bi-polar strategic interests. In the post-Cold War era, maritime security has been refined to include law enforcement at sea. For example, Cold War ‘interdiction’ meant action taken to deny enemy control of a given ocean region, or from taking a particular naval action, whereby naval forces denied access or transit of naval vessels through specified maritime regions during times of conflict.[42] In the post-Cold War era, interdiction refers to the interception of ships and vessels engaged in illegal activities, such as crime, by armed marine authorities.[43]

Another important concept for maritime security is territorial sovereignty. This signifies that states have the fullest rights known to international law, over their own territories.[44] This includes the ability to make laws and police them within maritime territories, as well as the capacity to make independent decisions about when and with whom they will cooperate. This is significant because, when naval forces and other marine authorities respond to non-traditional maritime security threats that involve violence, such as narcotics smuggling or piracy against ships at sea, an armed response is required to meet it. This complicates policing at sea because armed vessels represent individual state authority, therefore challenging the authority of other states with which it interacts. Unless there is a mechanism of understanding between actors that makes provision for respecting municipal laws, international maritime law, and the territorial sovereignty of states, misinterpretation can lead to conflict. However, states are less concerned about the integrity of their territorial sovereignty if they are negotiating with other states on non-traditional maritime security issues, such as law enforcement at sea. Criminals respect neither law nor sovereignty but states have a basic national interest to provide protection to mariners and vessels that transit their maritime territories, including preventing crime at sea and the violence with which it is associated.[45]

1.5 Structure and Outline of the Thesis

This paper consists of seven chapters. Chapter One introduces the paper's thesis by outlining the research problem, central argument, and background to the research. This includes the structure of the thesis, .

Chapter Two contains the literature review and frames the thesis theoretically. It includes discussion of relevant literature on perspectives about security cooperation between states and security regimes. Maritime security regimes were discussed during the Cold War as a means to prevent escalation of global nuclear conflict. In the post-Cold War era, maritime security regimes have been discussed as an outcome of increasing behaviour of states relying on legal mechanisms. These mechanisms ensure that interaction on security matters address non-traditional maritime security threats, but maintain the integrity of territorial sovereignty, and contribute to overall capacity building – in short, that they are good for the state. Regime theory incorporates elements of realist and liberalist ideas about the way the way that states cooperate. Theories about security regimes and regionalism contend that states will agree to principles, rules and norms that control their behaviour when they are confident that other states will do the same.[46] Differing perspectives, normative values, and practical capabilities (capacity) have all influenced the degree to which states are confident that security cooperation is in their best interests. David J. Bederman refers to a ‘schizophrenic battle’ that has been raging between those who believe that security cooperation between states is possible and those who see this ideal as unattainable and not desirable anyway.[47] Realist theories that position states as the most significant actors in the international system see states coordinating their activities only when it is in their own interests to do so. States within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, for instance, have been willing to cooperate on low-security maritime threats but have been less willing to participate in multilateral security mechanisms, retaining the right to choose how and with whom they collaborate. Liberalism proponents, on the other hand, argue that a function of the state is to provide appropriate regulatory frameworks and institutions that facilitate cooperation.[48] Therefore, in this broad portrait, both perspectives see cooperation as possible, with realists focussing on power and self-interest but liberals focussing on community. At the heart of this dichotomy are questions about what constitutes power and to what extent it is conditioned by international law.

Chapter Three [not included in this post but available on request tim.martin@deakin.edu.au] discusses the comparative analysis methodology used in this thesis. The scope and key assumptions section lays out the specific and non-specific questions that this research seeks to answer through interpretation of data and application of theory. This research questions the significance of confidence building in facilitating maritime security cooperation. Threat and response are two sides of the same coin. Weighing up the costs of cooperation against the costs of no cooperation, the research is asking, what are the forces leading states to cooperate and what are the forces keeping them apart in this changed security environment?

Chapter Four examines the Caribbean Sea case study. It situates the development of agreements, conventions and treaties specific to the Caribbean region, and the role of the United States as an initiator of these and significantly, provides the first case study for the comparative methodology used in this thesis. Enforcing law at sea in the Caribbean has focussed on the activities of narcotics traffickers and the violence that this behaviour creates within Caribbean states. A response to narcotics trafficking by sea has been the development of bilateral security agreements between the United States and individual states; each agreement similarly seeking to facilitate maritime law enforcement cooperation but also shaped to meet the specific concerns of individual states. Maritime security cooperation has been possible because the bilateral agreements are a result of consensus on the terms of cooperation and reaffirmation of the territorial sovereignty of individual states. The United States has led a confidence building initiative that has encouraged Caribbean states to engage in cooperation.

Chapter Five examines Southeast Asia and is the second case study in the comparative analysis made in this thesis. Maritime law enforcement cooperation of states in Southeast Asia diverge from the way that Caribbean agreements have occurred, despite, and to some extent because of the influence that the United States has had within the region. Enforcing law at sea in the Caribbean has progressed in different ways, yet is comparable to Southeast Asia in certain aspects. Southeast Asian states have sought to cooperate between each other and limit cooperation. Consequently, the United States was excluded from direct participation in coordinated maritime patrols, despite the capacity it has offered to the region. In Southeast Asia, the United States has inadvertently encouraged cooperation although other factors have contributed to confidence building between states in the region, including interdependence.

Chapter Six discusses rule of law and respect for territorial sovereignty of states as the foundation for cooperation mechanisms used in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia. It also discusses how the law of the sea is a foundational legal regime upon which security cooperation at sea is based, and situates the United States and United Nations roles within the maritime security environment as the most significant actor and institution respectively, of building regimes of law enforcement at sea in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia. This chapter draws conclusions from analysis of the data provided by chapters four and five. The influence of the United States is significant as it lends legitimacy and de facto facilitation of security cooperation, providing legality to regional partnerships in the Caribbean, and influencing Southeast Asian actors. On the other hand, the United Nations and its specialised maritime agency, the International Maritime Organisation (IMO) have provided a function as providers of codes, conventions and treaties that make up the bulk of international maritime law. This has underpinned the framework of security cooperation between states at sea in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia. It has promoted confidence-building mechanisms as important measures that lay the groundwork for security cooperation at sea.

Chapter Seven is significant part of the comparative methodology as it draws on the previous chapter’s analysis and revisits the literature, thereby concluding the thesis. This chapter discusses how the findings inform current dialogue on changing meaning of security, cooperation between states, and the potential for regime formation. The chapter concludes by noting gaps in the research, and asking ‘how do the findings influence the direction of future research?

Conclusion

In the following chapter, literature surrounding security cooperation between states from the perspective of regimes is discussed as a prelude to understanding the theoretical perspective of the thesis.

[1] The ‘post-Cold War era’ depicts a distinct but unfinished period in time. The end of the Cold War era began in 1985 and concluded when the Soviet Union dissolved in 1991, marking the beginning of the post-Cold War era.
[2] Michael Pugh (ed.) Maritime Security and Peacekeeping: a Framework for United Nations Operations, Manchester University Press, UK, 1994, pp.74-75.
[3] Patricia Jimenez Kwast, ‘Maritime Law Enforcement and the Use of Force: Reflections on the Categorisation of Forcible Action at Sea in the Light of the Guyana/Suriname Award’, Journal of Conflict and Security Law, Oxford University Press, vol.13, no.1, 2008, pp. 49-91.
[4] ‘High seas’ refers to international waters, not claimed by any state, that are situated outside state maritime borders; territorial sea refers to that body of water extending to seaward from the territory of a state, usually three or 12 nautical miles, and that forms an extension of the territory of the state. The ‘territorial sea’ is an extension of the territory of a coastal state, and extends to 12 nautical miles perpendicular to the coastline, measured from the low-tide mark of the coastline––One international nautical mile =1.852 kilometres exactly (that = 1.150779 land miles) source: OED 1995, p.1741.
[5] Barry Buzan, Ole Wæver and Jaap de Wilde, Security: a New Framework for Analysis, Lynne Rienner, ch. 2, 1997.
[6] Joseph A. Camilleri, ‘The Security Dilemma Revisited: Implications for the Asia-Pacific’, in William T. Tow, Ramesh Thakur and In-Taek Hyun, (eds), Asia’s Emerging Regional Order: Reconciling Traditional and Human Security, United Nations University Press, 2000, pp. 305-307.
[7] Some authors who have discussed maritime security regimes from a post-Cold War perspective include, but are not limited to: Sam Bateman and Stephen Bates, (eds), ‘The Seas Unite: Maritime Cooperation in the Asia Pacific Region’, Canberra Papers on Strategy and Defence, no. 118, Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Research School of Pacific and Asian Studies, Australian National University, 1996; Andreas Hasenclever, Peter Mayer, Volker Rittberger, Theories of International Regimes, Cambridge University Press, 1997; Mark J. Valencia, ‘Regional Maritime Regime Building: Prospects in Northeast and Southeast Asia’, Ocean Development and International Law, vol. 31 iss.3 July, 2000; David N. Griffiths, Fred W. Crickard, and Edward L. Tummers, Regional Maritime Security: Four Case Studies: Americas, Asia-Pacific, Middle East and Indian Ocean, Centre for Foreign Policy Studies, Dalhousie University, Halifax, Nova Scotia, 2002; Eric Brahm, ‘International Regimes’, Beyond Intractability, (eds), Guy Burgess and Heidi Burgess, Conflict Research Consortium, University of Colorado, Boulder, September, 2005; John F. Bradford, ‘The Growing Prospects for Maritime Security Cooperation in Southeast Asia’, Naval War College Review, vol. 58, no. 3, Summer, 2005; Michael Bahar, ‘Attaining Optimal Deterrence at Sea: A Legal and Strategic Theory for Naval Anti-Piracy Operations’, Vanderbilt Journal of Transnational Law, vol. 40, no. 1, 2007, pp.1-86.
[8] Barry Buzan, and Ole Wæver, Regions and Powers: The Structure of International Security, Cambridge University Press, 2003.
[9] Barry Buzan, Ole Wæver, and Jaap de Wilde, Security: a New Framework for Analysis, Lynne Rienner, 1997, p. 3.
[10] Mutimer. David, ‘Beyond Strategy: Critical Thinking and the New Security Studies’, in Craig Snyder (ed.) Contemporary Security and Strategy, Macmillan, London, 1999, pp. 82-6.
[11] Francisco Rojas-Aravena, ‘The New Security Agenda in the Caribbean: the Challenge of Cooperation’, in The Challenge of Regional Cooperation, Ralph H. Espach and Joseph S. Tulchin, (eds), Lynne Rienner, Boulder, Colorado, 2000, p. 65.
[12] Francisco Rojas-Aravena, ‘The New Security Agenda’.
[13] John Michael Lewis Geragotelis, Sea Piracy in Southeast Asia: Implications for Countering Maritime Terrorism in the United States, Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, California, 2006.
[14] Griffiths, Crickard, and Tummers, Regional Maritime Security, 2002.
[15] Valencia, ‘Regional Maritime Regime Building’, 2000, pp. 223-247.
[16] Bahar, ‘Optimal Deterrence’.
[17] Arthur A. Stein, ‘Coordination and Collaboration: Regimes in an Anarchic World’, International Organization, no. 36, Spring, 1982, pp. 299-324.
[18] Deon Geldenhuys, ‘Isolated States: a Comparative Analysis’, Cambridge Studies in International Relations: 15, Cambridge, UK, 1990, pp. 6-9.
[19] John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Better to be Godzilla than Bambi’, Foreign Policy, no. 146, January-February, 2005, p. 47.
[20] Martin Griffiths and Terry O’Callaghan, International Relations: the Key Concepts, Routledge, 2002, pp. 135-37.
[21] Donelan M., Elements of International Political Theory, Oxford, 1990, p. 3, in Andrew Hurrell, ‘International Society and the Study of Regimes: a Reflective Approach’, Volker Rittberger and Peter Mayer, (eds), Regime Theory and International Relations, Clarendon Press, 1995.
[22] Robert Jervis, ‘Cooperation under the Security Dilemma,’ World Politics, vol. 30, no. 2, 1978, pp. 167-214; Nicholas J. Wheeler and K. Booth, ‘The Security Dilemma’, in J. Baylis and N.J. Rengger, (eds), Dilemmas of World Politics: International Issues in a Changing World, Oxford University Press, 1992, p. 30.
[23] Robert Jackson, Classical and Modern Thought on International Relations: from Anarchy to Cosmopolis, Palgrave Macmillan, New York, 2005, p. 39.
[24] Trygve Mathisen, Methodology in The Study of International Relations, Greenwood Press, 1974, p. 3.
[25] Mathisen, Methodology, 1974, p. 189; Geldenhuys, Isolated States, 1990, p. 4.
[26] Classical realists include, but are not limited to; Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War (translation by) Rex Warner, Penguin Books, London, 1972; Niccolò Machiavelli, Il Principe, 1513, in Antony Jay, Management and Machiavelli: an enquiry into the politics of corporate life, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, NY, 1967, pp. 22-7; Thomas Hobbes, in Leviathan, Michael Oakeshott, (ed.), Oxford, 1946, p. 103, in Samuel I. Mintz, The Hunting of Leviathan: Seventeenth-Century Reactions to the Materialism and Moral Philosophy of Thomas Hobbes, Cambridge University Press, UK, 1970, p. 33.; Hans J. Morgenthau, ‘The Elements of Power’, Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace, 5th edition, revised Alfred. A. Knopf, New York, ch. 9, 1978.
[27] Martin Wight, ‘Why is there no International Theory?’, International Relations, vol. 2 no. 1, 1960, pp. 35-48.
[28] Pugh, Maritime Security and Peacekeeping,1994.
[29] A.E. Moodie, Geography Behind Politics, London, 1947, pp. 59-60, in TrygveMathisen, Methodology in the Study of International Relations, Greenwood Press, 1974.
[30] US Coast Guard, The US Coast Guard Strategy for Maritime Safety, Security, and Stewardship, Washington DC, 2007.
[31] ONI forms part of the United States Navy, and provides both unclassified and classified analysis of Naval and other maritime security and safety events globally, including weekly updates on piracy at sea and advice to mariners in areas prone to piracy.
[32] Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), Threats and Challenges to Maritime Security 2020, US Coast Guard Intelligence Coordination Center, Washington DC, ch. 2, 1 March 1999.
[33] ‘Maritime’ in this thesis uses the Oxford Dictionary (1995) definition, referring to human activities connected to the sea including seafaring upon the sea for defence, commercial reasons or illegal purposes. According to J.N. Mak, states and coastal states differ, as they have different interests, perspectives and priorities.–––‘Unilateralism and Regionalism: Working together and Alone in the Strait of Malacca s’, in Ong-Webb and Graham Gerard, Piracy,Maritime Terrorism and Securing the Strait of Malacca, ISEAS, Singapore, 2006, pp. 134-159.
[34] Rebecca Christie, Maritime Security, Lexington Institute, Arlington, Virginia, United States, January 2008, p. 2.
[35] Joseph L. Nimmich, ‘The Application of Conventional Military Deterrence Theory to Maritime Law Enforcement Interdiction’, US Army War College, Carlisle Barracks, PA, 1997, pp. 1-2.
[36] INTERPOL Media Release, ‘Law enforcement is ‘missing link’ in fight against maritime piracy, INTERPOL chief tells G8 meeting’, 29 May, 2009.
[37] International Maritime Organisation (IMO), Maritime Security, 2011.
[38] International Maritime Organization (IMO), Piracy and Armed Robbery at Sea ; IMO, ‘What is the ISPS Code?’, July 2004; Australian Government, ‘International Ship and Port Facility Security Code’, Department of Infrastructure and Transport, 13 October 2010; IMO, ‘Work Undertaken by the International Maritime Organization (IMO) in an Effort to Prevent and Combat Terrorism’, Fifth Special Meeting of the Counter-Terrorism Committee with International, Regional and Subregional Organizations, 29-31 October 2007, Nairobi, Kenya; Todd Kenyon, Admiralty and Maritime Law Guide: International Conventions, ‘Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation’, Rome, 10 March 1988.
[39] UNCLOS, ‘Lists of Experts’, Article 1, Annex VIII. Special Arbitration.
[40] UNCLOS will be discussed more fully in Chapter Three.
[41] Michele Ameri and Michael Shewchuk, Maritime Security and Safety, UNITAR/DOALOS Briefing, 17 October 2007.
[42] Devon Chaffee, Freedom or Force on the High Seas? Arms Interdiction and International Law, Nuclear Age Peace Foundation (draft), 15 August 2003; Commander Joseph L. Nimmich (USCG), ‘The Application of Conventional Military Deterrence Theory to Maritime Law Enforcement Interdiction’, US Army War College, Carlisle Barracks PA, 1997, pp. 1-2.
[43] United States Code, ‘Maritime Drug Law Enforcement Act’, [Jones Act] US Title 46A-Shipping (appendix), ch. 38, 1986.
[44] Malcolm N. Shaw, International Law, 5th edition, Cambridge University Press, UK, 2003, pp. 411-413.
[45] J. Ashley Roach; ‘Enhancing Maritime Security in the Straits of Malacca and Singapore’, Journal of International Affairs, vol. 59, iss. 1, Fall-Winter, 2005, p. 97-116.
[46] Authors who have discussed security regimes include but are not limited to: Ernst B. Haas, ‘Words Can Hurt You; or, Who Said What to Whom about Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 207-243; Stephen D. Krasner, ‘Structural Causes and Regime Consequences: Regimes as Intervening Variables’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 185-205; Robert O. Keohane, ‘The Demand for International Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 325-355; Arthur A. Stein, ‘Coordination and Collaboration: Regimes in an Anarchic World’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 299-324; Robert Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 357-378; Oran R. Young, ‘Regime Dynamics: the Rise and Fall of International Regimes’, International Organization , vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 277-297; Donald J. Puchala, and Raymond F. Hopkins’, International Regimes: Lessons from Inductive Analysis’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 245-275 ;William R. Thompson, ‘The Regional Subsystem: a Conceptual Explication and a Propositional Inventory’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 17, no. 1, March 1973, pp. 89-117; Valencia, ‘Regional Maritime Regime Building’, 2000, pp. 223-247.; Andreas Hasenclever, Peter Mayer and Volker Rittberger, Theories of International Regimes, Cambridge University Press, 1997; Eric Brahm, ‘International Regimes’, Beyond Intractability, (eds), Guy Burgess and Heidi Burgess, Conflict Research Consortium, University of Colorado, Boulder, September 2005.
[47] David J.Bederman, ‘Constructivism, Positivism and Empiricism in International Law’, Georgetown Law Journal, January 2001, (Review of) Anthony C. Arend, ‘Legal Rules and International Society’, 1999.
[48] Alexander Moseley, ‘Political Philosophy’, Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, University of Tennessee, Martin, 2006.

Chapter 2: Literature Review

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2.1 Introduction

This chapter discusses cooperation from the perspective of security regimes. A wide range of complex ideas pertains to cooperation theories and security relations between states. Regime theories have not sat neatly within either realist[1] or liberalist[2] theoretical camps. The anomalous position of security regimes is partly due to its origins in Cold War strategic analysis, when new forms of cooperation to limit nuclear arms stockpiling necessitated alternate analytical pathways to prevailing realist theory. Even a non-traditional maritime security regime, that focuses on enforcement of law at sea has secondary elements of cooperation between states that have been described in terms of ‘security communities’ and ‘security alliances’, and an adaptation of economic regime formation through regionalism that attempt to explain why states do, or do not cooperate, on the issue of security at sea.

2.2 Cooperation and Security Regimes

Cold War Security Regimes

Discussion of security regimes originated in academic debates and criticisms about high security of strategic military issues during the final decades of the Cold War, rather than the low security of law enforcement at sea.[3] Discussions centred on cooperation between states on specific strategic security issues, such as Strategic Arms Limitation Treaties (SALT I, 1972 and SALT II, 1979), that sought to manage nuclear ballistic missiles stockpiles and cooperate to reduce their proliferation. Despite criticisms that Cold War theories about international regimes have ambiguous terminologies and concepts, regime theory attempts to answer why states seek security cooperation despite the potential threat this poses to territorial sovereignty.[4] Study of security regimes sought to determine the nature of Cold War relations within a bi-polarised political-military system of states, investigating the potential for cooperation despite a high degree of insecurity.[5] Security regime theorists used conceptual games, such as the ‘prisoner’s dilemma’, to gauge the probability of irrational decision-making by nuclear-armed actors despite the availability of other options, such as self-interest.[6] This conceptualisation posed problems of competition between potentially belligerent states, and trialled alternative possibilities of win-win or lose-lose, or win-lose outcomes, when actors adopted irrationality in their decision-making process.[7] In the post-Cold War era, in the absence of bi-polar power structures, analysis seeks to understand why states make decisions about security cooperation, when security is not an area of international relations towards which states are naturally inclined to cooperate on.

Since the end of the Second World War, the historical path of cooperation leads through international institutions and organisations, predominantly the United Nations. States made rational decisions that incorporated their independence and respect for their sovereignty. Although rationalists recognise anarchy as the defining characteristic of the international system, they also believe in international society, order and procedural structure. Traditions and institutions for the rationalist are important procedural frameworks; these have provided diplomacy, balance of power, international law and occasionally war.[8] Whereas liberal institutionalists reason that states seek absolute, win-win gains, realists argue that states seek relative, zero-sum gains. Regimes contain norms of behaviour and expectations, and actors weigh costs and benefits against objectives, such as improving security. Regimes arise, Stephen Krasner argues, because actors relinquish independent decision-making because out of self-interest, they seek to contend with the dilemmas of ‘common interests’ and ‘common aversions’.[9] Although none of the states within the Caribbean or Southeast Asian case studies has been at war with one another during the two decades covered by this thesis, tensions exist as they do in almost all regions where states interact; between those actors who have sought security cooperation and those that have not.

Divided into two main types, regimes characteristically are common interest or common aversion; each allows states to coordinate.[10] Common interest refers to states acting to ensure a certain outcome, collaborating in order to coordinate their efforts. In common aversion regimes, on the other hand, states refrain from certain behaviour in order to act jointly and positively for the purpose of the agreement, vesting institutions with monitoring and mediating powers in the event of conflict occurring. Common aversion regimes seek to avoid a certain outcome, even if they each have different overall strategic goals. In common aversion regimes, the outcome that actors can agree they do not want, can lead unlikely collaborators to form regimes.[11] An example of common aversion was the relationship between the Soviet Union and the United States seeking to manage peacefully their competition during the Cold War. An example is the United Nations’ practice of ‘collective security’ and ‘common aversion’.[12] Collective security proposes that by states agreeing to come to each other’s aid in times of war, peace is assured. In the international system, where states are self-interested actors seeking to balance power, collective security allows states to place collective interests above national interests. For realists, however, this is a theory of how the world ought to be rather than the way the world actually is. Realists traditionally see conflict and power as natural conditions of the international system. Yet, the evolving nature of security has meant that ‘cooperative security’ acknowledges an increasing interdependence of states in areas such as economics and security.[13]

One of the similarities of different systems of states is that trade interdependence can provide regional actors with a certain level of confidence when discussions turn to security issues. Forums such as the Caribbean Community (CARICOM) and Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) Regional Forum (ARF) do facilitate discussion on regional security matters.[14] Interdependence perspectives focus on the significance of states forming trade ties through such organisations that then pave the way for other relationships, such as security. A decline of military force and power balancing with the end of the Cold War, and a rise in economic and other forms of complex transnational connections between states has increased the likelihood of cooperation amongst regions of states; economic interdependence makes conflict too costly.[15] It merges realist and liberal perspectives, where relative gains of trade potentially lead to absolute gains in security. Interdependence theorists suggest a concept of ‘regimes’ which have cooperative structures that set rules and standards to govern specific sets of activities.[16] Regimes result when states form multilateral agreements in order to regulate their actions in support of a specific issue.[17] As intra-regional trade has grown, conflict becomes too costly, and resolution of low-security maritime threats is established through cooperation with trading partners. This neo-liberal vision of economic and other interaction provides avenues for peace that suggest the long-term stability that a security regime brings, but the fluidity of security alliances do not.

As states in one region engage in maritime law enforcement agreements with other major states, there may be more incentive for other regional actors to participate in similar arrangements, because the cost of participation may not appear to outweigh the expected benefits. States that take tentative steps to coordinate security at sea in seeking acceptable norms of behaviour from other participating states, point to a likelihood that risks to sovereignty are understood to be merely implied; perhaps by other actors who may be risk-averse. Oran Young argues a behavioural-legal connection that regimes encompass social institutions that govern the actions of states within specific issue areas in order to become ‘recognised patterns of behaviour or practise around which [actor] expectations converge’.[18] Stephen Krasner argues that regimes focus the behaviour of states around converging interests.[19] Robert Jervis seems to agree with Young and Krasner’s perspective that regimes influence and restrain the behaviour of participating states.[20]

For Jervis also, international law and behaviour intertwine. States participate in a collaborative endeavour where international regimes consist of ‘principles, rules and norms’ permitting them to ‘be restrained in their behaviour in the belief that others will reciprocate’.[21] Arthur Stein appears to support Jervis and Krasner’s position, reasoning that regimes are an authority over or between states, defining national behaviour and shaping the way they interact.[22] Young appears to agree, arguing that, a regime exists when a collection of states come to agree on how the behaviour of participating actors is to be regulated in a specific area of interest.[23] Regimes offer the anarchical system of states (Christian Wolf’s natural, savage, ‘individuals’[24]) a sense of order out of a common need, according to Martin Griffiths and Terry O’Callaghan.[25] On the other hand, while Anthony Arend concurs with Young, he cautions that while states seek to regulate international issues by a common means this does not necessarily indicate that states have common interests.[26]

2.3 Situating Regimes within Theory

Stephen Walt argues the idea that realist theories were in some way redundant in the post-Cold War era is false, given the number of conflicts globally and suggests that realist theories about cooperation between states retain some relevance. For Walt, the study of contemporary international relations has been a drawn out contest between realist, liberal, and radical traditions but security regimes form a bridge between the first two.[27] Realists and liberalists perceive the causes of cooperation differently but security regimes are not exclusively situated within the liberal or realist camp. As a form of cooperation behaviour, regimes bear the hallmarks of both perspectives. Other perspectives, such as complex-interdependence, highlight the value of regimes in promoting the common economic interests of states that might in turn lead to confidence building, and security cooperation. Knowledge-based theories, such as constructivism and feminism primarily focus on the way that ideas and norms shape perceptions of international problems, highlighting the role of regimes in this process.[28]

From a realist perspective, states may see cooperation as a way to limit the power of neighbouring states, situating power as a central feature of states who seek to coordinate security. Whilst liberals seek to prevent conflict, realists see conflict between states as the norm.[29] It is also an argument about the potential for states to ‘pursue benign or bad ends through illegitimate or admirable means.’[30] Kenneth Waltz argues that states are egotistical actors who prioritise their own needs and interests.[31] Whilst Waltz’s structural realist perspective lacks Thomas Hobbes’ overarching sovereign authority,[32] it bears characteristic ‘fingerprints’ of both Thucydides[33] and late 19th century ‘Social Darwinism’[34] that proposed the strong inevitably surviving at the expense of the weak.

Realist and liberalist perspectives are comprised of a useful range of sub-theories about the way that states engage in security cooperation, and form a fundamental dichotomy of academic debate about the way that states relate, cooperate and change. However, while realists tend to focus on self-interest and power of the state; and liberals tend to focus on institutionalism and cooperation between states; regimes are situated somewhere in the middle of both camps. When discussing international society and conceptualising regimes, we are questioning the relationship between law and norms on the one hand, and power and interests on the other.[35] Robert Keohane places regimes in a managerial and ethical role, rather than the realist role where regimes are dependent on the presence of a strong state having hegemony for success. From the standpoint of realist theories about an anarchic international system, regimes are an anomaly, diverging from the idea that states are primarily self-interested.[36] Keohane reasons that liberalists envision economic interaction providing avenues for peace, rather than the fluidity of alliances that realists prefer, offering a more enduring path to cooperation between states. This includes interdependence, cooperative structures, and set rules and standards that govern specific sets of activities.[37] Therefore, regimes are guiding legal frameworks within which states agree to act, and Jervis describes them as the ‘principles, procedures, norms, or rules that govern particular issue areas ... global governance in an anarchical realm’.[38] Conversely, Hurrell reasons that rules and norms of international life purely reflect the power and interests of states.[39]Gregory Bruce Smith advocates a somewhat more Hobbesian view that human nature is at the heart of international relations and remains essentially unchanged, but he advocates that international politics remains flexible and adaptable to change.[40]

Since the end of the Cold War, theorists have sought to understand, and in some cases, to predict how states would behave; this had consequences for international relations and strategic planning, since the imperatives of bi-polarised power between the Soviet Union and United States had dissolved, leaving states to ponder on the question of security relations between states. In 1989, at the dawn of the post-Cold War era, Francis Fukuyama explored the possibility that ‘history’ had in a sense, come to an end and that realist ideas might be replaced by other perspectives, such as liberalism, as the dominant theoretical concepts for understanding relations between states. Fukuyama was debating the end of a conflict era and the possibility of increasing global cooperation. Drawing inspiration from Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and Karl Marx, Fukuyama reasoned that since international society had rejected other forms of political governance, such as monarchy, dictatorship and finally communism, ‘history’ may have in a sense ended and a final societal era begun, consisting of liberal idealism and market-oriented capitalism. Fukuyama hypothesised that in this new epoch, economic calculation, technical problem solving, environmental issues and consumer demand might create an era devoid of the dynamics of the past.[41]

Whereas realists have focussed on power, liberalists viewed collaboration succeeding if states were willing to lend legitimacy to initiatives that involve cooperation.[42] Liberalists seek a form of governance that offers individuals a chance to pursue their lives in the ‘neutral framework’ of international law through agreements and treaties, even though the concept of an ideal neutral framework has led realists to condemn liberalist perspectives.[43] In contrast to realists, liberalists see cooperation and collaboration between states to be ‘norms’ of behaviour. State behaviour is the origin of norms but ‘norms’ also influence and shape the behaviour of states. Norms are the behaviour of states that arise through negotiation, political interaction and self-promotion and meet the expectations of all actors involved.[44] Liberalists see a complex interdependence occurring between states, through trade and financial exchanges.[45] Whereas realist’s argue that states are not naturally inclined toward cooperation,[46] integration theorists, institutionalists and security cooperation theorists take the opposing view that weaker states fear the flexing of power of more powerful states and the threat this poses to sovereignty.[47] Consequently, weaker states and states that are more powerful have historically utilised institutions or legal frameworks for different reasons. Weaker states seek to minimise threats to sovereignty. States that are more powerful seek to apply power while avoiding both sanctions and war.[48]

2.4 Linking ‘Insecurity’ and ‘Region’

Insecurity

The terrorist attacks on the United States on 11 September 2001 suggested that Samuel Huntington’s premise that Eastern and Western cultures would engage in a new era of insecurity was at least reasonable.[49] However, while Fukuyama had questioned realist positions in the changing context of the post-Cold War era and welcomed a new era of liberal cooperation between nations, John Mearsheimer maintained that states instinctively distrust one another. Mearsheimer saw the end of the Cold War as a part of the cycle of peace and conflict. From this alternative perspective of change, globalisation was merely an interval before states once again go head to head when power imbalances initiated conflict once more.[50] Fukuyama and Huntington were essentially saying similar things about global security. International security was undergoing change, and therefore changing relations between states. This change could be put down to two major events, the end of the Cold War and the beginning of the war on terror in late 2001. Mearsheimer saw change as cyclic, and dips in the level of global conflict were the norms of international relations historically. Each of the authors argued that international security was undergoing changes precipitated by major security events.

For states to cooperate on security, where a high degree of trust is crucial, concerns about the integrity of territorial sovereignty permeate all security agreements including non-traditional maritime security. Sovereignty remains a fundamental basis for the existence of nation states. The principles ensconced within the conventions, codes and treaties that comprise the bulk of international law, and the ideals that premise the function of the United Nations, all indicate hallmarks of Kantian idealism; that policymakers and lawmakers must hear differences between states and make appropriate decisions that are founded on accepted, international law.[51] Immanuel Kant argued that the sovereignty of states is absolute, and upholding this right is a means to avoiding conflict but that governments must make morally guided decisions when constructing ‘universal law’.[52] Hobbes argued pragmatically that the application of reason balanced natural aggression; that an authority guides the way that societies act and promotes common strength and unity.[53] This proposes the incorporation of morality and reason into decision-making processes, an epistemological reasoning that instead of using analysis or experience to mould our concepts to the character of objects, the structure of our concepts should shape how we perceive objects. In this perspective, new knowledge and experience shape the world rather than simply describing it.[54] A counter-argument is that human behaviour is an irrational element in otherwise rational processes.[55] Rationality acts as a gradual elimination process, removing status, passions and prejudices from government decision-making, aiming for ‘systematic calculation and evidence-based reflection’.[56] Nevertheless, human behaviour transforms the world, so that interaction relies on our changing understandings of real world events.[57]

Significance of ‘Region’ in Regime Building

During the Cold War the great powers intervened in regions at the expense of opposing powers and weak regional states, so that authority was imposed. The realities of structure and politics of regional organisation during the Cold War meant that managing regional security could only have limited success.[58] According to Joseph Nye, during the bi-polarised security parameters of the Cold War, only two types of regional organisation were of consequence. First, a group of states with a continental or hemispheric basis, a set of decision-making institutions where the procedures for conflict resolution had been established; and second, collective defence establishments with a geographic basis ‘conforming to strategic needs rather than natural boundaries’, and whose countries were underdeveloped (for example, NATO, SEATO[59] and the Warsaw Pact).[60] William Thompson has defined a regional system, or ‘sub-system’ as a geographic collection of states whose proximity to one another indicates that incidents affecting one state probably affect neighbouring states as well. Thompson considered that most theories pertaining to regional systems concentrated on those interrelationships where all actors display a particular degree of constancy and intensity, and whereby the actions of one actor affects all other actors in that system. For Thompson, the foreign policies of great powers during the Cold War had given the impression that regional sub-systems did not exist or not taken seriously.[61] However, in the post-Cold War era, more significance is placed on recognition by the international community, as well as by the regional actors themselves of the extent of a given geographic regional structure.

In the 1990s a sense that regions were becoming important in some way, emerged through efforts to understand the behaviour of international actors in those areas where the flow of international trade was strategically significant to the global economic paradigm.[62] Immanuel Kant argued that spatial representation of objects is an important means of understanding them. For Kant, it is important to delineate the region of space that an object occupies. Failing this spatial depiction, sensations of the observer remain undifferentiated, making it difficult to ascribe specific properties to particular objects, such as a geographic area. According to Kant, observing an object that persistently occupies an area over a period consolidates a spatial awareness.[63] In other words, a region needs boundaries and positioning on a map or chart, and observation over time. Peter Katzenstein appears to adopt Kantian reasoning by disputing that a region is simply a given territorial entity constituted by certain physical facts, but instead ‘the creation of political power and purpose’.[64] Joseph Camilleri places importance on distinguishing between endogenous influences––those from inside a region, such as geography and demography, or history and political culture, and exogenous influences––those from outside a region, which may include the policies of states, transnational corporations, financial markets, international governmental institutions or non-governmental organisations. However, Camilleri considers that when it comes to security, member states of a region probably focus on the strategic interests of external states. Camilleri argues the key variables for the occurrence of regionalization, are the way that power is configured within and between an area; the axes of conflict internal or external to an area; the degree of cohesion and homogeneity in intra-regional relationships; and whether a region is relatively open or closed to external states.[65] A growing expansion of regional relations has meant that regions increasingly became significant places of conflict and cooperation.[66] Regionalism previously focussed on the way that states within a particular region developed cooperative, economic-based interrelationships, where mutual development could overcome politics and conflict.[67] For Björn Hettne, a regional approach to security infers that regional cooperation reduces the potential for conflict; the dividend of peace is that it facilitates development cooperation. A win-win outcome results from regional collaboration; that is, increased levels of regional action by governments wanting cooperation, and accepting a measure of externally imposed regimes, economic policies and security arrangements.[68] Regionalism emerged in the post-Cold War era through efforts to understand the behaviour of actors in regions where international trade has strategic significance. Jervis points out that, security-oriented regimes are more difficult to establish than economic regimes due to, ‘inherently competitive cast of many security concerns, the unforgiving nature of the problems, and the difficulty in determining how much security the state has or needs’.[69] However, regionalism can emphasise a ‘top to bottom’ approach to cooperation, where states are the main actors making decisions about security cooperation, and regional integration involves states within a specified region reaching a political consensus.[70] In the post-Cold War era, regionalism links to globalization and associates state and non-state actors as significant participants through trade but can lead to other forms of interaction on issues such as security. The Caribbean Community (CARICOM) and Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) are both regional organisations that have a primary focus on trade but with core commitments to respecting the sovereignty of fellow member states and both have been forums for discussing security.

Whereas regionalism had emphasised a ‘top to bottom’ approach, where states were the main actors ascertaining what regional cooperation mechanisms would be, neo-realism’s regional integration involves states within a specified region reaching a political consensus.[71] New-regionalism positions non-state actors as significant participants in regionalization processes. For Hettne, regionalism is a qualitatively new phenomenon, emerging with globalization; both ‘the two processes of globalization and regionalization … are articulated within the same larger process of global structural change’.[72] Hettne considers three ways to regional collaboration; first, increased levels of ‘regionness’ by governments wanting cooperation; second, accepting a measure of externally imposed regimes, economic policies and security arrangements; or third, a passive integration route. Hettne focuses on a regional approach of prevention, regarding policing, so that ‘regional cooperation for development reduces the level of conflict and the peace dividend facilitates further development cooperation’.[73]

Adopting a Kantian reasoning, Peter Katzenstein argues that a region is not simply a given territorial entity constituted by certain physical facts, but is a creation of ‘political power and purpose’.[74] Regionalism is related to what Hettne, and Fredrik Söderbaumterm the ‘structural transformation of the world’, indicated by four significant events.[75] First, the change from bi-polarity towards multi-polarity, that affects the way that power and labour is distributed. Second, that the attitude of the United States is changing as its hegemony declines so that regionalism is regarded as less of a threat to its ability to project power. Third, that the ‘Westphalian’ nation-state system is wearing away while global interdependence between states (globalisation) is increasingly widespread, a point supported by Krasner. Their fourth point relates to globalising forces.[76] Camilleri places importance on distinguishing between endogenous influences - those from inside a region, such as geography and demography, or history and political culture, and exogenous influences - those from outside a region that may include the policies of states, transnational corporations, financial markets, international governmental institutions or non-governmental organisations.

Key international actors and institutions have played key roles in shaping the way that states have negotiated on trade but more significantly, how they have negotiated on security. In particular, the United Nations and the United States are most significant in the context of these regions. Camilleri argues that when it comes to security, member states of a region focus on the strategic interests of external states but organisations within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, such as CARICOM and ASEAN, create a means by which states can negotiate intra-regionally. Camilleri argues the key variables for regionalisation are four-fold. They are the way that power is configured within and between an area; the axis of conflict internal or external to an area; the degree of cohesion and homogeneity in intra-regional relationships; and whether a region is relatively open or closed to the input of external states.[77] Jana Dorband claims that the role of a global hegemonic power in regional geopolitical order is a crucial analytical variable.[78] Therefore, any discussion about international law and sovereignty must include the United States since it has shaped both the interests and capacities of regional states and promoted respect for the rule of law. As the United States fundamental abiding principles imply no compromise of morality and law, it therefore encompasses a respect for sovereignty. A respect for sovereignty is a fundamental tenet of international conventions, codes and treaties created within the United Nations. Therefore, discussions about security cooperation between states, international law and sovereignty must include the institution of the United Nations.

[1] Authors taking a realist approach to cooperation between states include, but are not limited to: Kenneth Neal Waltz, Man, The State, and War, NY, Columbia University Press, 1959; Kenneth N. Waltz, ‘Structural Realism after the Cold War’, International Security, vol. 25, no. 1, Summer, 2000, pp. 5-41; John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Better to Be Godzilla Than Bambi’ Foreign Policy, January-February 2005, p. 47; Robert Jervis ‘Security Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2.1982, pp. 357-378; Stephen Walt, ‘The Renaissance of Security Studies’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 35, no. 2, 1991, pp. 211-239; Robert Gilpin, ‘The Richness of the Tradition of Political Realism’, International Organization, vol. 38, no. 2, Spring, 1984, pp. 287-304; Neo-classical realists include but are not limit to: Randall L. Schweller, ‘Unanswered Threats: s Neoclassical Realist Theory of Underbalancing, International Security, vol. 29, no. 2, Fall, 2004, pp. 159-201; FareedZakaria, ‘The Rise of Illiberal Democracy’, Foreign Affairs, vol. 76, no. 6, November-December 1997, pp. 22-43; William Wohlforth, ‘Realism and the End of the Cold War’, International Security, vol. 19, no. 3, Winter, 1994-1995, pp. 91-129.
[2] Authors taking a liberalist approach to cooperation between states include, but are not limited to; Andrew Moravcsik, ‘Negotiating the Single European Act’, in Robert O. Keohane and Stanley Hoffman ,(eds), The New European Community, Westview Press, Boulder, 1991; Andrew Moravcsik, ‘Preferences and Power in the European Community: a Liberal Intergovernmentalist Approach’, Journal of Common Market Studies, vol. 31, iss. 4, December 1993, pp. 473-524; Brian L. Job, ‘Norms of Multilateralism in Regional Security: the Evolving Order of the Asia Pacific’, in International Norms: Origins, Significance and Manifestations, Leonard Davis Institute for International Relations, Hebrew University, 1994; David A. Lake and Patrick M. Morgan, (eds), Regional Orders: Building Security in a New World, University Press, 1997; Bill McSweeney, Security, Identity, and Interests: A Sociology of International Relations, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1999, pp. 1-23; Stephen D. Krasner, ‘Sharing Sovereignty: New Institutions for Collapsed and Failing States’, International Security, vol. 29, no. 2, Autumn 2004, pp. 85-120.
[3] Authors who have discussed security regimes include but are not limited to: Ernst B. Haas, ‘Words Can Hurt You; or, Who Said What to Whom about Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 207-243; Stephen D. Krasner, ‘Structural Causes and Regime Consequences: Regimes as Intervening Variables’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 185-205; Robert O. Keohane, ‘The Demand for International Regimes’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 325-355; Arthur A. Stein, ‘Coordination and Collaboration: Regimes in an Anarchic World’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 299-324; Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’.; Oran R. Young, ‘Regime Dynamics: the Rise and Fall of International Regimes’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 277-297; Donald J. Puchala, and Raymond F. Hopkins’, International Regimes: Lessons from Inductive Analysis’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 245-275 ;William R. Thompson, ‘The Regional Subsystem: a Conceptual Explication and a Propositional Inventory’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 17, no. 1, March 1973, pp. 89-117; Mark J. Valencia, ‘Regional Maritime Regime Building: Prospects in Northeast and Southeast Asia’, Ocean Development and International Law, vol. 31, iss. 3, 2000, pp. 223-247; Andreas Hasenclever, Peter Mayer, Volker Rittberger, Theories of International Regimes, Cambridge University Press, 1997; Eric Brahm, ‘International Regimes’, Beyond Intractability (eds) Guy Burgess and Heidi Burgess, Conflict Research Consortium, University of Colorado, Boulder, September 2005.
[4] Hasenclever, Mayer, and Rittberger, Theories of International Regimes, p. 8.
[5] Stephen Walt, ‘The Renaissance of Security Studies’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 35 no. 2, 1991, p. 211-239.
[6] Merrill Flood and Melvin Dresher developed this idea in 1950, and Albert W. Tucker coined the term in 1992. Briefly, imprisoned in separate cells in isolation to the other, two prisoners are given the choice of confessing to being party to the same crime or remaining silent; if one confesses and the other remains silent then all charges will be dropped but his/her testimony will be used against the other prisoner who will get a very stiff sentence. If both confess, then both face conviction but each gets a light sentence or parole. If both remain silent, both face moderate sentences. In other versions of Prisoner’s Dilemma, more moves, more players and asymmetric and single-person interpretations give a plethora of resulting relationships to assist strategic analysis of outcomes given rational verses irrational moves.
[7] Steven Kuhn, ‘Prisoner’s Dilemma’, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 22 October 2007; Steve Smith, ‘Singing our World into Existence: International Relations Theory and September 11’, ISA Presidential Address, February 2003; John Gerard Ruggie, Peter J. Katzenstein, Keohane, O. Robert and Philippe C. Schmitter, ‘Transformations in World Politics; the Intellectual Contributions of Ernst B. Haas’, Annual Review of Political Science, vol. 8, June 2005, pp. 271-296; Ernest B. Haas, Beyond the Nation State, Stanford, Stanford University Press, 1964, p. 24.
[8] Sam Roggeveen, ‘Towards a Liberal Theory of International Relations’, Policy, The Centre for Independent Studies, Autumn, 2001, pp. 29-32.
[9] Stephen D. Krasner, (ed.), International Regimes, Cornell University Press, Ithica, 1983, p. 127.
[10] Bill McSweeney, Security, Identity, and Interests: A Sociology of International Relations, Cambridge University Press, 1999, p. 49; Susan Strange, ‘Cave! Hie Dragones: a Critique of Regime Analysis’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, International Regimes, Spring, 1982, pp. 479-496; Robert O. Keohane, After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World Political Economy, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1984; Isabelle Grunberg, ‘Exploring the “myth” of hegemonic stability’, International Organization, vol. 44, no. 4, 1990, pp. 431-477.
[11] Arthur A. Stein, ‘Coordination and Collaboration: Regimes in an Anarchical World’ International Organization vol. 36, no. 2 Spring, 1982, pp. 299-324; Stephen D. Krasner, (ed.), International Regimes, Cornell University Press, Ithica, 1983, p. 125.
[12] Ernst B. Haas, ‘Words Can Hurt You; or, Who Said What to Whom about Regimes?’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 207-243.
[13] C. Raja Mohan, ‘Toward Cooperative Security in South Asia’, Regional Cooperation in South Asia, SAFMA Regional Conference, Dhaka, August 20-21, 2004.
[14] Jessica Byron, ‘CARICOM and Security Governance: Probing the Limits of Regional Cooperation’, Paper presented at the annual meeting of the ISA’s 49th Annual Convention, Bridging Multiple Divides, Hilton, San Francisco, 26 March 2008.
[15] Robert Keohane and Joseph Nye, Power and Interdependence, Longman, 3rd edition, 2000; Joseph S. Nye Jr. Power in the Global Information Age: From Realism to Globalization, Routledge, 2004.
[16] Robert O. Keohane, ‘International Institutions: Can Interdependence Work?’ Foreign Policy, no. 110, Spring, 1998.
[17] Oran R. Young, International Cooperation: Building Regimes for Natural Resources and the Environment, Cornell University Press Ithica, 1982, pp. 196-198, in Sam Bateman, (ed.), Maritime Cooperation in the Asia-Pacific Region: Current Situation and Prospects, Canberra Papers on Strategy and Defence no. 132, CSCAP, Australian National University, 1999, p. 32.
[18] Oran R. Young, ‘Regime Dynamics: the Rise and Fall of International Regimes’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 277-297.
[19] Stephen Krasner, (ed.), International Regimes, Cornell University Press, Ithica, 1983, p. 2; Martin Griffiths, Steven C. Roach and M. Scott, Fifty Key Thinkers in International Relations/Martin Griffiths, Steven C. Roach and M. Scott Solomon, Routledge, UK, 2009, pp. 45-48.
[20] Robert Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 357-378.
[21] Robert Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’, in Stephen Krasner, (ed.), International Regimes, Cornell University Press, Ithica, 1983, p. 2.
[22] Arthur A. Stein, ‘Coordination and Collaboration: Regimes in an Anarchic World’, International Organization, no. 36, Spring, 1982, pp. 299-324.
[23] Oran R. Young, International Cooperation for Natural Resources’.
[24] Christian Wolff, Jus GentiumMethodoScientificaPertractatum (The Law of Nations According to the Scientific Method) (translated by) Joseph Drake, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1934, in Nicholas Greenwood Onuf, ‘Civitas Maxima: Wolff, Vattel and the Fate of Republicanism’, American Journal of International Law, vol. 88, no. 2, 1994, p. 280-304.
[25] Martin Griffiths and Terry O’Callaghan, International Relations: The Key Concepts, Routledge, 2002, pp. 135-37.
[26] David J. Bederman, Review Essay, ‘Constructivism, Positivism and Empiricism in International Law’, Georgetown Law Journal, January 2001, p. 469-499.[Review of Anthony C. Arend, Legal Rules and International Society, 1999.]
[27] Stephen M. Walt, ‘International Relations: One World, Many Theories’, Foreign Policy, no.110, ‘Special Edition: Frontiers of Knowledge’ Spring, 1998, pp. 29-32 and 34-46.
[28] Martin Griffiths, Terry O’Callaghan, Key Concepts, p. 273.
[29] Stephen M. Walt, ‘One World, Many Theories’.
[30] David J. Bederman, ‘Constructivism, Positivism’.
[31] Kenneth N. Waltz, Man, the State, and War, NY, Columbia University Press, 1959, in R.C. Tremblay, C. Nikolenyi, and L. Otmar, ‘Peace and Conflict: Alternative Strategies of Governance and Conflict Resolution’, Journal of Comparative Policy Analysis: Research and Practice, vol. 5, no. 2-3, 2003, pp. 125-148; Paul Crook, ‘Social Darwinism in European and American Thought, 1860-1945’, (review), The Australian Journal of Politics and History, vol. 45, iss. 1, March 1999, p. 110.
[32] Leviathan, Michael Oakeshott (ed.), Oxford, 1946, p. 103, in Samuel I. Mintz, The Hunting of Leviathan: Seventeenth-Century Reactions to the Materialism and Moral Philosophy of Thomas Hobbes, Cambridge University Press, UK, 1970, p. 33.
[33] Thucydides (5th century BC) argues that power is a core determinant of the way that states relate, because the benchmark of justice between nations, ‘depends on the equality of power to compel, and in fact the strong do what they have the power to do and the weak accept what they have to accept’.–––Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, (translation by), Rex Warner, Penguin Books, London, 1972.
[34] Janet Browne, ‘Social Darwinism and English Thought: The Interaction between Biological and Social Theory’, Medical History, vol. 26, no. 1, January 1982, pp. 113-114, (review of), Greta Jones, Social Darwinism and English Thought. The Interaction Between Biological and Social History, Brighton, Sussex, Harvester Press, 1980, 8vo, pp. xiv, 234, (as distinct from the more liberal-leaning naturalist, Charles Darwin).
[35] Andrew Hurrell, ‘International Society and the Study of Regimes: a Reflective Approach’, in Volker Rittbergerand Peter Mayer, (eds), Regime Theory and International Relations, Clarendon Press, 1995.
[36] Robert O. Keohane, ‘The Demand for International Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 325-355.
[37] Robert O. Keohane, ‘International Institutions: Can Interdependence Work?’, Foreign Policy, no. 110, Spring, 1998, pp. 82-96.
[38] Robert Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’, in Stephen Krasner, (ed.), International Regimes, Cornell University Press, Ithica, 1983, p. 2.
[39] Hurrell, ‘International Society’.
[40] Gregory B. Smith, ‘Endings, Transitions or Beginnings? The End of History and the Last Man’, Perspectives on Political Science, vol. 23, iss. 4, 1994, pp. 178-182.
[41] Francis Fukuyama, ‘The End of History?’, The National Interest, Summer, 1989; Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man, Free Press, New York, 1992.
[42] Paul Mower, (review of), Nicole Deller, ArjunMakhijani, and John Burroughs, (eds), Rule of Power or Rule of Law?: an Assessment of US Policies and Actions Regarding Security-Related Treaties, The Apex Press, New York, 2003, in Journal of Conflict and Security Law, vol. 12, iss. 2, 2007, pp. 334-338.
[43] Alexander Moseley, ‘Political Philosophy’, InternetEncyclopedia of Philosophy, University of Tennessee Martin, TN, 2006.
[44] Brian L. Job, ‘Norms of Multilateralism in Regional Security: the Evolving Order of the Asia Pacific’, in International Norms: Origins, Significance and Manifestations, Leonard Davis Institute for International Relations, Hebrew University, 1994, p. 4.
[45] Martin Griffiths and Terry O’Callaghan, The Key Concepts, pp. 135-37.
[46] John J. Mearsheimer,‘Better to be Godzilla than Bambi’, Foreign Policy, iss. 146, January-February, 2005, p. 47.
[47] Waltz, ‘Structural Realism after the Cold War’, pp. 5-41.
[48] Michael Byers, Customs, Power and the Power of Rules, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1999, p. 6, in Pierre Klein, ‘The Effects of US Predominance on the Elaboration of Treaty Regimes and on the Evolution of the Law of Treaties’, ch. 13, United States Hegemony and the Foundations of International Law, (eds), Michael Byers and George Nolte, Cambridge, CUP, 2003, p. 363.
[49] Samuel Huntington, ‘The New Era in World Politics’, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, Simon and Schuster, ch. 1, 1997, pp. 19-39.
[50] John J. Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics, Norton, USA, 2001; John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Conversations with History: Domestic Politics and International Relations’, UCTV (University of California telecast), 26 November 2007.
[51] United Nations, ‘We the Peoples of the United Nations Determined’, Preamble, UN Charter, 1945.
[52] Immanuel Kant, ‘Perpetual Peace: a Philosophical Essay’, 1795, (translated by), M. Campbell Smith, Allen and Unwin, London, 1917.
[53] Leviathan, (ed.), Michael Oakeshott, p. 34.
[54] Garth Kemerling, ‘Kant: Synthetic A Priori Judgments’, History of Philosophy, 2001.
[55] Max Weber. A.M. Henderson, and Talcott Parsons, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization, Oxford University Press, 1947, p. 92, in John Gerard Ruggie, Peter J. Katzenstein, Robert O. Keohane and Philippe C. Schmitter, ‘Transformations in World Politics: the Intellectual Contributions of Ernst B. Haas’, Annual Review of Political Science, Cornell University, vol. 8, 2005, pp. 271-296.
[56] Henderson and Parsons, Max Weber.
[57] Emanuel Adler, ‘Seizing the Middle Ground: Constructivism in World Politics’, European Journal of International Relations, vol. 3, no. 3, 1997, pp. 319-363, in MajaZehfuss, Constructivism in International Relations: The Politics of Reality, Cambridge University Press, 2002, p. 5.
[58] Joseph S., Nye, International Regionalism: Readings, Little, Brown and Company, 1968, pp. 79-80.
[59] SEATO, Southeast Asia Treaty Organisation: a security collective of Western and Western-aligned states including Australia, France, New Zealand, Thailand, Pakistan/Bangladesh, Philippines, Taiwan, UK and United States, and dialogue partners South Korea and South Vietnam. Modelled on NATO, SEATO sought to defend against communist expansion in Southeast Asia, although its weakness was the lack of unity amongst members, and a failure to prevent the Vietnam War or other regional conflicts.
[60] Joseph S. Nye, International Regionalism.
[61] William R. Thompson, ‘The Regional Subsystem: a Conceptual Explication and a Propositional Inventory’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 17, no. 1, March 1973, pp. 89-117.
[62] BjörnHettne and Fredrik Söderbaum, ‘The UN and Regional Organizations in Global Security: Competing or Complementary Logics?’, Global Governance, vol. 12, 2006, pp. 227-232; BjörnHettne, AndrasInotai and Osvaldo Sunkel, (eds), Globalism and the New Regionalism, Macmillan, 1999, pp. 1-24; David A. Lake and Patrick M. Morgan, (eds), Regional Orders: Building Security in a New World, University Press, 1997.
[63] Matt McCormick, ‘Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) Metaphysics’, The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, University of Tennessee Martin, TN, 2006.
[64] Peter J. Katzenstein,A World of Regions: Asia and Europe in the American Imperium, Ithaca and London, Cornell University Press, 2005, p. 21.
[65] Joseph A. Camilleri, ‘Defining Region and Sub-Region’, Regionalism in the New Asia-Pacific Order: The Political Economy of the Asia-Pacific Region, Edward Elgar Publishing, vol. 2, 2003, pp. 2-6.
[66] David A. Lake and Patrick M. Morgan, (eds), Regional Orders: Building Security in a New World, University Press, 1997, p. 7.
[67] Leland M. Goodrich, ‘Regionalism and the United Nations’, Proceedings of the Academy of Political Science, vol. 23, no. 3, May 1949, pp. 47-56; Ernst B. Haas, ‘The Challenge of Regionalism’, International Organization, vol. 12 no. 4, Autumn, 1958, pp. 440-458; Joseph S. Nye, International Regionalism: Readings, Little, Brown and Company, 1968, pp. 79-80; Martin B. Travis, Jr., ‘Political Community at the International Level’, (review by) Karl W. Deutsch, Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, vol. 295, September 1954, pp. 147-148.
[68] Björn Hettne, ‘Security Regionalism in Europe and South Asia’ in New and Critical Security and Regionalism: Beyond the Nation State, James J. Hentz and Morten Bøås, (eds), Ashgate Publishing, 2003, pp. 149-168.
[69] Robert Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 357-378.
[70] Alexander C. Chandra, ‘Indonesia’s Non-State Actors in ASEAN: a New Regionalism Agenda for Southeast Asia?’ Contemporary Southeast Asia, vol. 26, iss. 1, 2004, pp. 155-174.
[71] Alexander C. Chandra, ‘Indonesia’s Non-State Actors’.
[72] Björn Hettne, ‘Globalization and the New Regionalism: The Second Great Transformation’, in Globalism and the New Regionalism, BjörnHettne, AndrasInotai, and Osvaldo Sunkel, (eds), Macmillan, Hampshire and London, 1999, pp..1-24.
[73] Björn Hettne, ‘Security Regionalism in Europe and South Asia’, in New and Critical Security and Regionalism: Beyond the Nation State, James J. Hentz and Morten Bøås, (eds), Ashgate Publishing, 2003, pp. 149-168.
[74] Peter J. Katzenstein, A World of Regions.
[75] Björn Hettne and Fredrik Söderbaum, ‘Theorising the Rise of Regionness’, New Political Economy, vol. 5, no. 3, 2000, pp. 457-472.
[76] Hettne and Söderbaum, ‘Theorising the Rise of Regionness’.
[77] Camilleri, ‘Defining Region and Sub-Region’.
[78] Jana Dorband,‘World Regions and International Relations towards a Theoretical Framework from a Geographic Perspective’, Annual Meeting of the ISA’s 49th Annual Convention, Bridging Multiple Divides, San Francisco Hilton, San Francisco, 26 March 2008.

Chapter 4: Caribbean Cooperation; Is it Bound to United States Interests?

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4.1 Introduction

This chapter discusses the development of non-traditional maritime security cooperation arrangements between Caribbean states in the post-Cold War era. Cooperation to enforce law at sea within the Caribbean commenced prior to the events of 11 September 2001 (9/11), which provides a useful case study from which to make comparisons to events in Southeast Asia in the post-9/11 period. A key difference is that bilateralism was favoured over multilateralism, and the United States was a central security initiator and accepted as the primary partner of non-traditional security at sea in the immediate post-Cold War period prior to the post-9/11 period.
4.2 Security at Sea within the Caribbean
Security and Narcotics

During the 1990s, the United States arrangements with Caribbean states sought to hold back the rising tide of narcotics trafficking. Narcotics smuggling in the Caribbean was not in itself a political crime but it threatened powerful and less powerful states in similar ways. By increasing violence and encouraging corruption, this non-traditional maritime security threat undermined the integrity of political sovereignty. The first decade after the end of the Cold War saw the United States as the sole remaining superpower. The events of 11 September 2001 in the United States had not yet occurred. For the United States, narcotics smuggling from South America was one of the most prominent security issues. Narcotics such as cocaine and marijuana comprised the bulk of illicit drugs being smuggled by air and increasingly by sea from South America. The United States sought to reduce the power of the drug cartels via a land and sea war on drugs to reduce the social and the threat to regional stability and to the political viability of states within the Caribbean Sea. Primarily, the United States sought to limit the influx of narcotics being smuggled by air and sea that wound up supporting domestic organised crime. This essentially criminal activity represented a low security maritime threat but still required an armed response by authorities. While the United States arranged with South American states such as Colombia to try to defeat the drug barons on land through military means, the United States Coast Guard (USCG) had the job of tracking and interdicting vessels and aircraft suspected of smuggling narcotics across the Caribbean Sea towards the United States mainland.

The USCG law enforcement capacity extends beyond United States territorial waters but includes a diplomatic role that represents other interests (strategic and trade) of the United States as well. For the USCG, negotiating rules of engagement with states has required diplomacy in order to avoid misunderstandings regarding the territorial sovereignty of states with which it deals; it is a vehicle of United States diplomacy but is also a military auxiliary service. Since the United States is the only country that extends its jurisdiction, and has the capacity to enforce law at sea in doing so beyond its own borders, the USCG is in a position to assist other states. Even when states reason that underlying United States interests are likely to be driving the arrangements, the capacity and willingness to extend its legal reach is an effective means and quickly improve security at sea for smaller states. According to Interpol Secretary General Robert Noble, law enforcement has been a missing element of cooperation on maritime law enforcement. Noble also argues that naval forces are ill suited to law enforcement roles.[1] Noble reinforces the point that maritime law enforcement becomes problematic when states use naval forces for law enforcement duties. Naval forces convey a different signal to states than coast guard or policing authorities. Nevertheless, even coast guard vessels can present a threat to the authority of a state and make cooperation between states at sea provocative. USCG vessels in particular represent a potential military capability. Therefore, guidelines that indicate the scope of action that each state can take is a significant means of clarifying actors’ intent, scope of action and purpose. It is also a means to convey a message of respect for sovereignty.

The development of law enforcement cooperation with Caribbean states marked a shift of focus for the United States towards regional security, a focus on low-security threats, and the use of international law as a legal means to formalise regional agreements. This represented a shift away from the Cold War norms of regional strategic interests and towards new norms of regional order. Narcotics smuggling was a major factor driving law enforcement at sea in the Caribbean in the post-Cold War era. It represented a significant non-traditional maritime threat in that region. Efforts to increase law enforcement and military operations to target the growth of narcotics trafficking occurred under United States President Richard Nixon. Military and other security forces since 1971 sought to break the cycle of drug production, smuggling and use within the United States and Canada. Only a concerted regional program having the support of all states involved could do this. United States President Richard Nixon sought to address the growing problem of illicit domestic drug abuse in North America and by United States soldiers in Vietnam.[2] This action led to the establishment of the United States Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) in 1973. However, while use of the Caribbean Sea for narcotics smuggling challenged the national security interests of the United States it also presented challenges to other regional states. Traffickers smuggled narcotics to the United States through intermediary states like Panama and Mexico to the west and the Bahamas to the east. Unlike the low political impact that piracy at sea has had in Southeast Asia, this flow of narcotics smuggling north through the Caribbean threatened the political stability and territorial sovereignty of smaller states in the region.[3]

Enforcing law at sea to stop drug smugglers using the Caribbean Sea as a transport medium, a coordinated regional response was an additional weapon against the cartels but the requirement for armed marine authorities to cross state boundaries occasionally was problematic. Enforcing law at sea was effective when tip-offs, good intelligence and international cooperation allowed operations to succeed but the option of pursuit across state lines would increase the risk to traffickers, and improve the enforcement capacity of authorities.[4] When the 60-foot sloop ‘Dances with Wolves’ left the Caribbean Sea bound for Ireland in 2007 with 1,875 kg of cocaine worth an estimated €675 million, it was tracked continuously by electronic means. It was a coordinated effort by the Portugal-based maritime Analysis and Operations Centre (MAOC), the UK Serious Organised Crime Agency (SOCA), Ireland’s Joint Drugs Taskforce and the US Drug Enforcement Agency. The incident illustrates the effectiveness of cooperation––‘hot pursuit’ offered to increase this effectiveness.

Hot Pursuit and Interdiction
There are significant differences in the management of ‘hot pursuit’ by Caribbean and Southeast Asian states. In the bilateral Caribbean maritime agreements between the United States and regional states, law enforcement authorities coordinate the consent to conduct cross-border operations. In Southeast Asia, on the other hand, coordination between states functions to avoid hot pursuit or cross border incursions altogether and consists of agreements to patrol but regularly, and to share information. Despite Allen’s argument that UNCLOS lacks flexibility, these two examples suggest that hot pursuit has been flexible enough to allow maritime law enforcement agreements to be adapted to different circumstances within the conventions contained within UNCLOS.[5] Within the Caribbean, states respect territorial sovereignty by coordinating cross border pursuits. Maritime law enforcement agreements in Southeast Asia also respect territorial sovereignty of participating states by coordinating patrols but avoid border incursions. This adheres to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) principle of respect for the ‘sovereignty, equality, territorial integrity’, and significantly, ‘non-interference’ regarding the political affairs or function of neighbouring states.[6]

‘Hot pursuit’ is a significant part of the problem of enforcing law at sea near territorial borders, and was the reason that the United States needed to negotiate agreements with Caribbean states as to how permission could be quickly sought and given. Hot pursuit occurs within the Caribbean when United States or other authorities are pursuing suspect vessels. Hot pursuit has also been a central concern for authorities seeking to interdict suspects within Southeast Asia. For instance, a suspect vessel originating in Indonesia might avoid interdiction by entering the territorial sea of Indonesia –– the suspects would thereby elude pursuing Malaysian or Singaporean authorities. Indonesia may or may not be the suspect vessel’s home state but regardless, the Malaysian authorities cannot continue the chase as it is not Malaysian territory and therefore outside of Malaysian jurisdiction. The Malaysian vessel may be able to enter, under right of transit rules but not in the capacity of a law enforcement authority. Only Indonesian authorities could intervene, to continue the chase or give permission for the pursuit to continue, but it is their call and there is no obligation to do so.

Effectively, the suspect vessel can avoid being stopped, searched or arrested. This problem has occurred where maritime borders are close to, or abut one another, as they do within the Malacca and Singapore Straits. Maritime law enforcement agreements seek to facilitate law enforcement vessels seeking permission to continue the pursuit when the authorities of one state have reason to suspect a vessel has been involved in the violation of the laws and regulations of that state, or of an act of piracy at sea, and wants to pursue that vessel (or aircraft). A pursuit of the suspect vessel occurs when authorities begin their chase in archipelagic waters, a territorial sea, or a contiguous zone or the high sea; the pursuit must be continuous and uninterrupted. The pursuit becomes ‘hot’ if it continues across a state boundary––that is, into the jurisdiction of a state from the high seas, or from the territorial sea of another state. The pursuit must cease if the suspect vessel enters the territorial waters of the suspected vessel’s own state or of a third state, unless the pursuing authority gains permission from the territorial state.[7] In this way, pursuit does not violate the territorial sovereignty of any state.

Issues surrounding hot pursuit have had significant implications for the United States, as any restriction on the USCG to pursue and interdict suspects also restricts a basic ability to enforce law at sea. According to UNCLOS, no vessel can be stopped, without permission being granted, if it is within the territorial waters of the state whose flag it flies; only the authorities of the territorial state are able a stop the vessel. Within the territorial sea, only municipal law, the domestic laws of the state, applies––although the state may be party to international law there is no obligation, as previously noted. To detain suspects within a territorial sea that is not the territorial sea of the pursuing vessel, permission must first be obtained from the state having territorial sovereignty over that sea. If the suspect vessel is inside the territorial waters of another state (not its own state of registry), the suspect vessel must stop when asked to do so by the authorities of that state. If the vessel, failing to stop continues into the contiguous sea of the pursuer’s state, then the pursuing state authorities have the right to continue pursuit. If the vessel is in a contiguous zone then the pursuing authorities of the contiguous zone state can only request the vessel to stop with regard to a breach of laws pertaining to the contiguous zone, and this is the case if a vessel enters an EEZ.

There are exceptions, such as when a vessel is suspected of piracy at sea in international waters, or other crimes committed within the territorial waters of the pursuing authority, or in the case of drug smugglers, against the interests of the United States. Under international law, drug smugglers are not deemed to be threats to humanity as pirates have been, but they do conduct activities declared illegal by states. Illicit drugs are detrimental to the national interest of maintaining law and order, and create black markets, increase violence and undermine the authority of states. However, the right of authorities to intercept suspect vessels is limited in international waters. According to UNCLOS Article 111, a flagged vessel cannot be stopped unless there are unusual circumstances.[8]

Hot pursuit extends the ability of authorities to continue pursuit of suspects by prearrangement with other states with whom they have prior agreements, and who have a similar interest in enforcing law at sea. The right of hot pursuit extends to requesting that the vessel slow and allow a boarding party to embark. If the suspect vessel is intercepted and taken into custody outside the territorial sea then the pursuing authority may prosecute the suspect crew under its own municipal state laws or may decide to hand the suspects on to what the International Maritime Organization (IMO) refers to as a ‘[s]ubstantially interested [s]tate’ for trial and punishment. A ‘[s]ubstantially interested [s]tate’ could be the flag state of the suspect ship, or a state in whose territorial sea an incident occurred, or a state affected by the incident or its consequences, such as loss of life or injuries or that has important relevant information about the incident. It could be a state seeking to repress violence against a crew or passengers or intervening to affect seizure of a pirate or armed robber under UNCLOS Article 105.[9] Drugs smugglers, for instance could be stopped to prevent the known effect of drugs on law and order, such as violence and crime, within destination states.[10] Therefore, conventions facilitate complex issues.

America and Caribbean Security

Although the United States perceptions of proprietorship in the past have hampered Caribbean development and cooperation, according to Watson Denis, many Caribbean states were willing to engage in security arrangements.[11] Building the confidence of Caribbean states that security arrangements would not jeopardise the integrity of their territorial sovereignty has been a basis of their success. Caribbean states have cooperated with the United States in bilateral agreements despite the great differences of power.[12] States had less concerns about cooperation when security issues appeared to benefit national interests, were non-traditional, low security issues that did not appear to threaten the integrity of territorial sovereignty, and they added to the state’s capacities to enforce law within their own or proximate maritime zones. Prior to the end of the Cold War, successive United States governments had sought to deter the expansion of communism into the Caribbean states. Security interests then favoured the political ideologies and strategic posturing of east and west powers. Enforcing law at sea within the Caribbean was an ad hoc, low-priority issue. In the post-Cold War era, this situation changed. Security cooperation during the 1990s was an outcome of a need to meet the regional maritime security requirements of the region at that time.

High rates of crime and violence occurred in both the United States and Caribbean states, linked to a common source, illicit narcotics trafficking. All states could identify with the dangers that smuggling narcotics presented. A 2007 report warned that the ‘levels of crime and associated circumstances’ varied from state to state but ‘the strongest explanation for the relatively high rates of crime and violence in the [Caribbean] region has been narcotics trafficking.[13] Another two 2008 reports echoed that the Caribbean Sea was a significant transhipment region for smuggling narcotics to Europe and North America.[14]

Geographical Challenges Perhaps Peter Benchley’s warning about the raw nature of the Caribbean best illustrates its lawlessness;

[w]e have been dangerous for three hundred and fifty years. We have had rumrunners and gunrunners and pirates and poachers and now the drug people. We have not changed. The yachtsmen, they have changed. They think this is a playground. Well, they are damned fools. The boats are gone and the people are dead.[15]

Not unlike Southeast Asia’s archipelago, the immensity of the Caribbean allows criminal activities at sea to go unnoticed. The scale and international nature of drug smuggling by sea challenges the capacity of Caribbean policing authorities in a region with a history of smuggling crime and violence to which Benchley alludes.

Geographically the Caribbean is an archipelago comparable to Southeast Asia’s sprawling landmasses and islands. Politically, the Caribbean differs to Southeast Asia’s ten regional and four to five principal states. The Caribbean is comprised of many small and medium island states, as well as continental states, with the continent of South America to the south, the long isthmus of Central America to the west and the string of islands making up the West Indies to the east. Adjoining the Greater Antilles to the north are the Caribbean’s largest islands, Cuba and Jamaica and other island states of Greater Antilles, Dominican Republic, Haiti and Puerto Rico. North of these islands lie the Bahamas and Florida; to the northwest are the Gulf of Mexico and southern states of the United States mainland. Although the Caribbean Sea does not share its archipelago directly with the United States, it is within the immediate sphere of its national security interests. Geographically, the Caribbean’s maritime area is 2,640,000 square kilometres (km), stretching 3,000 km in breadth from Central America to the Windward Islands, and a maximum length north to south of 1,450 km from Cuba to Panama.[16]

Therefore, the broad geography and relative isolation of both archipelagos suggest similar characteristics in the Caribbean to those in Southeast Asia; both regions are equally conducive to low-security maritime threats, and law enforcement at sea is difficult.[17] Few of the smaller Caribbean microstates have the capacity to enforce law in their own territorial seas, and even fewer can operate in international waters. With more than 7,000 islands, islets and cays dotting the Caribbean, it is an ideal region for smuggling by sea. In both the Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions, no state has territorial claim over the vast international waters that lie between the regional states, although many states claim extended economic zones (EEZ). The Caribbean Sea connects South American drug-producing countries of Colombia and Venezuela with the primary drug-consumption centres to the north and east, such as the United States, Canada and Europe.[18] Despite different perceptions of threat and security in the region shaped in part by geopolitical characteristics,[19] states could increase naval and maritime law enforcement capabilities through security cooperation with peer states. As the premier actor and driving force behind bilateral security in the region, the United States arguably has had both the most to lose and the most to gain. On the one hand, narcotics destined for the black market support crime on the United States mainland. On the other, microstates in the Caribbean are the collateral victims of narcotics smuggling, as anti-narcotics operations predominantly benefit North American interests.[20]

Therefore, the situation in the Caribbean contrasts with the situation in Southeast Asia, where security cooperation excluded direct participation by the United States. The relationship between the United States and Caribbean states has been increasingly interdependent because of geographic proximity, political necessity and trade interdependence between North and South America, and occurred at a time prior to a declared war on terrorism. Increasing interdependence has also been due to the changing security priorities of the United States that do not differ ideologically from those of Caribbean states, in the way that they would in Southeast Asia after 2001.

4.3 Economics and Security

Regional Economics

International drug control has been important for the region. If economic development was to continue, political stability and territorial sovereignty were necessary for the Caribbean community’s economic success in the second half of the twentieth century. Changing economic support for Caribbean states by the United States since the 1980s has been a factor favouring narcotics smuggling. Reduced aid increased pressure on Caribbean states to improve law enforcement generally. Economic aid from the United States fell by 90 per cent, from US$226 million in the mid-1980s to US$26 million in 1995, affecting incomes and therefore making narcotics smuggling an attractive, if risky option for individuals and officials.[21] During this period, reductions in economic aid from the United States to Caribbean states meant that the region was more likely to turn to illicit incomes generated from drug trafficking. Drug cartels sought to increase their influence in small states within the Caribbean to tranship narcotics and ease the way for further shipments. Consequently, drugs and crime fed one another, assisted by weak regional governance and the prevalence of poverty, famine, corruption and disorder.[22] A 2008 report from the Council of the European Union lists the challenges that its author has believed that Caribbean states faced. These include under-resourced, weak and under-trained judiciaries; poor public confidence in law enforcement and the judiciary systems; spiralling murder rates linked to drugs and organised crime; the proximity to major cocaine production centres in South America; inadequate legislative procedures and anti-narcotics policies; and poor strategic planning or cohesive regional responses taken by governments to tackle any of the above problems.[23] Weak political institutions within the Caribbean region have meant that democratization of smaller coastal states has been fragile. In some ways, this is similar to the situation in Southeast Asia following the 1998 Asian economic crisis that led to states with fragile democracies and weakened economies undermine regional stability, and lead to a weakened capacity of states to enforce law within their own territories. The experience of both regions underlines that regional security and cooperation have been dependant on the economic and political stability of states.

Economic health in the Caribbean region has been linked to the capacity of the region to provide for its own security.[24] In a general sense, Caribbean states are economically weaker than Southeast Asian states, affecting the capacity of some states to provide sufficient maritime law enforcement assets or capabilities for their own needs. Francisco Rojas-Aravena argues that security within the Caribbean includes more than just military objectives.

The threats [to the Caribbean] of the twenty-first century should take into consideration a number of aspects that go beyond strictly military variables … associated with globalization … [and] maintenance of national sovereignty[25]

Rojas-Aravena situates interdependence and realist perspectives as connected, and that to avoid economic instability governments within the Caribbean have needed to adopt a holistic approach to security.[26] Like Southeast Asia’s colonial European past, political influences exerted by states external to the immediate region have helped to shape, and continue to shape the contemporary Caribbean.

Historical Relationships

In a sense, the trade in narcotics is historically indigenous, and a foundation of its regional economic significance. The Caribbean’s economic foundations have long been dependent on production and supply of intoxicating substances, including sugar, tobacco, coffee and rum.[27] Historical dependence links the Caribbean to past colonial masters, in particular through maritime trade with the United States. A geopolitical legacy of European colonization has been that hegemony and ownership of the Caribbean have been goals of powerful states from time to time. The United States has regarded itself a proprietor of the Caribbean and this attitude, according to Watson R. Denis, political advisor at the Secretariat of the OAS, has hampered regional development and cooperation. To overcome this, Caribbean states have needed to embrace their own political sovereignty and make decisions about their own political future.[28] Political stability and territorial integrity have been staples of the Caribbean community’s economic success. In the second half of the twentieth Century, the question of drug control in the 1970s and 1980s became an international but especially a regional concern. As international control sought to counter widespread narcotics trafficking, it also became a polarising and dynamic political issue regionally.[29]

Nevertheless, due to geographic proximity and trade relationships between North and South America, relationships between the United States and Caribbean states in the post-Cold War era have remained largely one of interdependence. Unlike the situation in Southeast Asia, where security is the province of fully independent states, the overall level of security within the Caribbean is regulated by the presence of external actors and events taking place elsewhere, such as 9/11. The fear of violence that 9/11 and the war on terror created could affect regional confidence in the security of the Caribbean, flowing on to have economic consequences, according to Ralph Gonzales, Prime Minister of the coastal microstate of St. Vincent.[30] Although the Caribbean Sea comprises numerous small and ostensibly independent states, some retain ties to Europe and others to the United States[31] so that security within the region is linked to the protection of a wide range of internal and external trade and economic interests and influences.

Many Caribbean states were former territories of colonial European governments, so that a legacy of foreign and regional territorial claims litters the archipelago. British West Indies comprise the English speaking states, such as the British overseas territories of Anguilla, British Virgin Islands, Cayman Islands, Montserrat, and the Turks and Caicos Islands. Territories that form part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands include Aruba and Netherlands Antilles. Territories that form the overseas departments of, or have affiliation with France, include Guadeloupe, Martinique, Saint Barthélemy and Saint Martin. Independent states include the Bahamas, Barbados, Cuba, Dominica, Dominican Republic, Grenada, Haiti, Jamaica, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, and Trinidad and Tobago. Continental states with coastlines adjoining the Caribbean Sea include, Beliz, Colombia, Costa Rica, French Guiana, Guatemala, Guyana, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, United States, and Venezuela.

Although the region’s legal economic foundations had been partly dependent on production and export of intoxicating substances such as tobacco, coffee and rum, the production of illegal narcotics smuggled through the archipelago from place of production in South America to places of consumption in North America and Europe tainted the image of the Caribbean, painting it as corrupt and crime-ridden.[32] Whereas piracy at sea against ships in Southeast Asia has often been opportunistic, smuggling narcotics by sea within the Caribbean has been associated with organized crime and relatively powerful drug cartels. Smuggling narcotics facilitated a broad increase in violence and crime as well as a general decline in regional security. According to a 1998 strategic assessment, drug smuggling created instability in the Caribbean region and threatened the sovereignty of larger states including Colombia, Mexico, as well as several smaller island states. It also challenged governance or states, including Brazil, Argentina, Chile, and Canada, as well as the United States, Japan, and Europe.[33]

Drugs, Crime and Economics

Smuggling narcotics increased violence and crime in the Caribbean but in different ways to the direct and aggressive behaviour shown towards crews from pirate attacks on ships in Southeast Asia, and therefore affected the way that states in each region have responded. Official corruption, illicit drugs use and small arms trading supported violence and crime ashore. According to Michael Manly, addressing the opening of the 1989 inter-ministerial Conference on Drugs in Kingston Jamaica, in the twenty-first century the Caribbean states could either progress or allow anarchy to reign if drug cartels were allowed to dominate. Manly questioned the political willingness of Caribbean governments to cooperate with international partners and wrestle with the problem of drug smuggling.[34] For Caribbean states this would require money, assets and resources.[35] The Bahamas National Security Minister, Tommy Turnquest, stated that smuggling narcotics and trafficking contributed to crime more than any other activity. Firearms increased violence, adversely affecting the Caribbean value system, and corrupting societal institutions.[36] Assistant Secretary of the OAS, Albert Ramdin, linked organised crime to narcotics smuggling and the growth of terrorist networks within the region.[37]·

As the majority of the physical products of trade move via sea, the security of the maritime environment in the Caribbean, as in Southeast Asia, has been crucial for regional economic development. This in turn supports regional security capacity.[38] Major shipping routes connect Jamaica and mainland states such as Colombia, Venezuela, Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala and Mexico. Trade imports and exports through the Caribbean are far below the levels seen in Southeast Asia and therefore reflect a comparatively weaker economic base from which to build the capacity to enforce law at sea. Merchandise exports of Southeast Asia’s ten ASEAN states[39] were approximately US$863 billion in 2007-08 that far exceeded the total merchandise exports from the Caribbean.[40] In the Caribbean, total imports from all sources were US$18.1 billion in 2006, and total exports were US$17.9 billion in the same year. Although tourism within the Caribbean earns approximately US$21 billion per year, intra-regional imports were US$2.3 billion in 2006, with an annual growth rate of 13.2 percent. Major legal commodities produced within the Caribbean include beverages, tobacco (the largest economic contributor) followed by mineral fuels, lubricants, and food.[41] Industrial economies include Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic. Oil producing states include Trinidad and Tobago, and Venezuela, whereas states whose economies focus on tourism and offshore banking include the Bahamas and Cayman Islands.[42] The gross domestic product (GDP) of Caribbean states varies considerably. At the lower end, the smaller Caribbean island states such as Montserrat and Dominica have GDPs of approximately US$300 –– $600 million (2007), whereas the most affluent state, the Dominican Republic has a GDP of approximately US$35.5 billion (2007). Leading Caribbean oil and gas producer, Trinidad and Tobago has a GDP of approximately US$20.9 billion (2007) whereas Haiti, with a GDP of approximately US$6.1 billion (2007) is considered the poorest Caribbean state on a per capita basis.[43]·

The reaction of Caribbean states to crime at sea has reflected a desire of states to protect economic and political stability. Security fears have helped to shape the way that states cooperate but in different ways to the situation in Southeast Asia. Within the Caribbean, narcotics smuggling has supported crime, violence and corruption, challenging the political stability of states. This was significantly different low-security maritime threat to Southeast Asia’s experience, where piracy at sea did not undermine the political function of states and arguably had little impact on economic stability. In the Caribbean, narcotics smuggling prompted governments to act and cooperate but mainly because of the interest and support of the United States.

4.4 Seeds of Security Cooperation

Diplomacy and Law Enforcement at Sea
Security cooperation between Caribbean states and with the United States required building confidence by establishing the integrity of the more powerful actor. It was important for Caribbean states to trust other actors. The United States has not always been willing to commit to cooperation with other states and has a documented history of prioritising self-interest. Therefore, as a diplomatic agency of the United States, the United States Coast Guard (USCG) in a sense bridged a political divide between military-naval service and law enforcement authority at sea. Thomas Jefferson stated in 1801 that the United States was interested in ‘[p]eace, commerce, and honest friendship with all nations - with entangling alliances with none’.[44] Through enforcing its laws at sea, the USCG’s role since its inception has been to protect the national security interests of the United States. In 1787 Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretary of the United States Treasury, argued that with minimal effort a significant capacity to enforce the laws of his then young country could be achieved; ‘A few armed vessels, judiciously stationed at the entrances of our ports, might at small expense be made useful sentinels of the laws’ . Within the Caribbean Sea during the 20th and 21st centuries, the USCG has sought to enforce United States laws at sea. This includes enforcing United States laws under the Maritime Drug Law Enforcement Act 1986.[45]

The Caribbean Combined Operations Program (C-COP) legislation was designed to facilitate other regional armed forces (at sea but also in the air and on land) engaged in the war on drugs, and to assist states with the operation of existing patrol craft, the standing up of bilateral maritime law enforcement, and cooperation agreements, beginning with the English-speaking Caribbean states of Jamaica and Barbados.[46] Outside of war, a key USCG mission has included enforcing maritime law, providing port security, and border control. The wide scope of these constabulary functions have allowed the USCG to enforce the domestic laws of the United States beyond its own territorial seas while adhering to international law to which it is party. Besides cooperating with naval forces, the USCG has also worked closely with United States Southern Command in the Caribbean, and with other Homeland Security departments, and liaised with governments on information sharing and arrest in the Caribbean Sea region.[47] Southern Command’s Joint Interagency Task Force South (JIATF-S) has combined the capacity of a number of law enforcement, military and other intelligence agencies, encompassing 32 Caribbean states. JIAT-F has responsibility for maritime security in 12 of Caribbean island states and European territories, the Gulf of Mexico, and a portion of the Atlantic Ocean.[48]

This wide support departmental support base gave the USCG a capacity to negotiate and assist other states within the Caribbean Sea and elsewhere, including Southeast Asia. Whereas the USCG claimed a broad-deployment constabulary role, it also had an extended expeditionary legal reach not matched by other coast guard or water police authorities inside the Caribbean Sea, and certainly not in Southeast Asia. Consequently, and for better or worse, the extension of legal reach and national interests of the United States affected development of regional maritime law enforcement. As the primary United States maritime law enforcement service, the USCG enforced domestic and federal laws, treaties, and other international agreements in international waters. USCG officers are authorised under United States law to board any vessel subject to United States jurisdiction, or suspected of posing a threat to the national interests of the United States. This means that even if a vessel was in international waters, the USCG has a mandate to inspect, search, make enquiries and if necessary, arrest suspects well beyond the territorial waters and jurisdiction of the United States.[49] As many USCG vessels (cutters) are equipped for open ocean deployments, supported by various USCG aircraft and naval forces, this authority has been able to extend substantial law enforcement capacity into the Caribbean Sea, with the potential to do so in Southeast Asia.

Although the USCG is a United States armed service, it has credibility as a law enforcement authority rather than a military competitor. Caribbean states have been more willing to make the United States a security collaborator on non-traditional security issues because law enforcement has been regarded as less threatening to the territorial sovereignty of states than strategic and defence matters. During times of war, the USCG has acted as a naval auxiliary force but during peacetime, it has civilian duties that include maritime law enforcement. Established as a legitimate law enforcement authority, the USCG has been less likely to undermine the confidence of actors. Conversely, legal statute excludes the United States Navy from undertaking a law enforcement role though tasked with strategic power projection and defence. Nevertheless, it plays an auxiliary law enforcement role. The Posse Comitatus Act specifically prohibits members of the United States armed services from undertaking law enforcement, but a 1981 addition to the Posse Comitatus Act allows the United States Navy to assist civilian law enforcement agencies, including the USCG. One method to get around this legal limitation has been to use embarked USCG officers, called Law Enforcement Detachments (LEDETS). Created in 1982, LEDETS officers have operated since 1986 and deployed aboard United States Navy vessels operating in areas of known narcotics smuggling activity. There one role is to exercise United States law at sea. Due to the limitations imposed on United States military forces other that the USCG by the Posse Comitatus Act, LEDETS officers have conducted all boardings, searches and arrests of suspects, and naval vessel simply provide an armed means of transport.[50] Using this method of interdiction accounted for approximately 50 percent of all drug seizures on the high seas, suggesting that USCG coordination with naval forces has enhanced maritime law enforcement capacity.[51]

Consequently, United States military facilities, technical assistance and operational support supplements the USCG capacity while laws continue to prohibit direct law enforcement by United States military personnel.[52] This wide scope and occasional use of naval vessels and aircraft reinforced the credibility of the USCG as a partner able to offer capacity-building benefits to other states. For instance, the use of the USS Annapolis (SSN760) nuclear submarine operating out of Sao Vicente in Cape Verde in late 2007, provided intelligence on drug smuggling and illegal immigration. The USCG could justify use of an expensive major weapons platform as a tool because it efficiently assisted efforts to control maritime criminal activities.[53] This type of additional naval capacity, when supporting USCG law enforcement operations, far exceeds the capacity of many Caribbean states to provide law enforcement at sea and is therefore a strong motivator for smaller states to engage in bilateral agreements with the United States.

The USCG operations within the Caribbean sought to provide non-traditional maritime security at sea. Because of the sheer geographical of scale of the Caribbean, it has had a mixed rate of success.[54] Described as the ‘transit zone’, the USCG area of operations is vast, covering an approximate area of 9,656,064 square km (six million square miles) that includes the Caribbean Sea, Gulf of Mexico and the Eastern Pacific. According to a United Nations 2007 World Drug Report, 58 percent of global cocaine seizures occurred within the immediate USCG area of interest; that includes the Gulf of Mexico, the Caribbean Sea, Pacific coastline and the Bahamas.[55] Statistics from the USCG however, suggest that success rates of interdictions of vessels and seizures of narcotics have varied, with steadily increasing rates of arrests and seizures in the late 1990s leading to a high point of success by 2005 for maritime interdiction generally.[56] Since the number of successful interdictions of illegal immigrants approaching the United States by sea through the Caribbean also hit a high point of success in 2004/2005, it suggests a period of success in detecting vessels involved in maritime criminal activities.[57]

A Need for Security Partnerships

Limited resources limit United States foreign engagement programs. This translates into a prioritisation of maritime security where it benefits the interests of the United States. Consequently, the USCG has taken a pragmatic approach by seeking the inclusion of security partners.[58] Coordinating with United States Customs and other states within the region, as well as liaising with external states with interests within the region, such as France, Netherlands and the United Kingdom, the USCG has been able to increase its credibility as a security partner. As a legitimate law enforcement authority, the USCG was able to negotiate international security agreements with Caribbean states. The success of bilateral agreements relied on Caribbean states feeling confident of no compromise to territorial sovereignty if they cooperate with the more powerful actor. Successful cooperation between the USCG, other federal agencies and with the governments of other states attests to the effectiveness of the resulting security arrangements, because according to the USCG, they accounted for 52 percent of all United States government cocaine seizures annually.[59]

Most important is the need for good governance, upholding the rule of law and crime prevention.[60] Confirmation of links between increased drug trafficking and rising rates of violence and crime within Caribbean states supports arguments for stopping the narcotics before they reach transhipment ports. Several sources, including reports by UNODC in 2007, the International Crisis Group (ICG) in 2008, as well as comments from the chief of the United States Southern Command (SouthCom), Admiral James Stavridis, all identified strong links between smuggling narcotics and high rates of
crime and violence.[61] Moreover, criminal behaviour had been normalised by this activity. All three sources indicated the benefit of reducing narcotics smuggling through increased law enforcement cooperation with states within the region. General Barry McCaffrey, former director of the United States Office of National Drug Control Policy, stated that in this war on drugs there would not be a definite victory.[62]

4.5 Regional Capacity and American Interests

External Sources of Capacity

Trade agreements promoted by regional institutions normalised patterns of relationships and confidence building behaviour between Caribbean states, and facilitated security discussions. Subject to the existing terms of understanding between states, cooperation included; initiatives between the states themselves or facilitated by the United States, via the USCG, joint naval exercises, exchanges of personnel, bilateral agreements on intelligence gathering and dissemination, and holding multi-state meetings and forums, facilitating dialogue and networking and improving levels of trust between states. Despite economic successes, some Caribbean states have not had the capacity to provide adequate law enforcement at sea on their own; sometimes this was because external assistance was available. For example, Haiti continued its narcotics transhipment role, despite United States-provided assistance since 1997, through air and sea patrols. The island of Hispaniola has a 1,500 km long coastline, is largely unprotected and split between the Dominican Republic and Haiti. Haiti has been one of the poorest states in the Caribbean Sea and its legal system has been weak, and its law enforcement dysfunctional. Colombian cocaine bound for Europe and the United States led to a growth in drug trafficking and corruption of Haiti’s police force. Consequently, the anti-drugs and corruption challenges tested Haiti’s capacity to remedy its own domestic security problems, let alone its ability to face the security challenges of the wider Caribbean.

Caribbean states with close links to Europe have approached the issue of law enforcement at sea cooperation in different ways to the English-speaking states. This illustrates that the cultural divides within the Caribbean have not prevented regional security cooperation. During the late 1990’s the United States Government sought discussions with the Government of France regarding the problem of drug smuggling, as French Guiana, Martinique, Guadeloupe, the French side of St. Martin, and St. Barthelemy were all overseas departments of France and subject to French Law and the International Conventions it has signed. These discussions had resulted in the both countries co-drafting the Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement (CRMA) in November 2001.[63] Additionally, France and the United States entered into a Dutch-sponsored agreement later co-signed and ratified by Jamaica and Belize in 2007. This agreement had also still not come into force by January 2008 as it lacked the requisite number of ratifications.

Located in the south of the Caribbean Sea, the Netherlands Antilles cooperated with the United States on law enforcement at sea through the Dutch Government. The Dutch Navy deployed under the support of the Component Task Group 4.4 that in international waters, was supervised by the United States Joint Inter-Agency Task Force South (JIATF-S). On the other hand, seven east-Caribbean states, Antigua and Barbuda, Dominica Grenada, St. Kitts and Nevis, St. Lucia and St. Vincent and the Grenadines, were simply party to broader counter-narcotics regimes, including the 1971 United Nations Convention on Psychotropic Substances and the 1988 UN Drug Convention. A major victory was the change in attitude between regional actors, from national to collective victories, in the fight against narcotics smuggling.[64] Other international coordinated security efforts include those of the Maritime Analysis and Operation Centre-Narcotics (MAOC-N) based in Lisbon, Portugal. The MAOC-N focuses on interdictions of vessels suspected of smuggling narcotics across the Atlantic to Europe. Its member states include Great Britain, France, Portugal, Ireland, Italy France and the Netherlands. Although it has primarily sought to improve information sharing, the MAOC-N has faced similar challenges to other multilateral maritime law enforcement arrangements, including differences of languages, national priorities, and competition between members, cultural differences and other limitations.

United States Partnerships and Capacity Shortfalls
Law enforcement at sea security relationships that Caribbean states have had with the United States have been quite different to those within Southeast Asia. This is because similarities in the experiences of Caribbean states and the United States in trying to reduce narcotics smuggling, has drawn these actors closer than those actors in Southeast Asia while attempting to reduce piracy at sea. Under President Nixon in 1971, new impetus was given to counter-drugs efforts that had begun during the 1960s. By 1973, the Drug Enforcement Agency created, its operations initially meeting with mixed success.[65] Although the United States could act unilaterally to try to stem the flow of illicit drugs through the Caribbean, arrangements sought with Caribbean states facilitated the interdiction of suspects at sea. Ad hoc counter-narcotics smuggling agreements between the United States and states within the Caribbean sought to better facilitate these operations by coordinating with policing authorities. Former United States Deputy Assistant Secretary of State, International Law Enforcement (1994-1999), Jonathan Winer , commented that the growing range of cooperative maritime law enforcement initiatives developed over many years were designed to counter specific problems. Providing a legal framework for law enforcement, customs, and judicial cooperation, these could be adapted to counter any maritime criminal activity. While individual initiatives sought to address specific crimes, such as international narcotics trafficking, they could equally be applied to maritime crime or counter-terrorism.[66]

While the presence of the USCG has been able to increase the credibility of the United States as a security partner, it has had to adopt a pragmatic approach to security engagement generally. Resource scarcity in foreign engagement programs has meant that the maritime security interests of the United States have had to be a priority.[67] During the Reagan and Bush administrations in the 1980 and 1990s, the United States began bilateral dealings with what Klein describes as ‘frequently reluctant partners’ to try to stem the trade in cocaine and heroin.[68] A part of the problem was that the United States had a different perception of what ‘partnership’ meant. Elliot Abrams, United States Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs during the Reagan Administration, saw benefits in states voluntarily accepting small erosions to their sovereignty short of allowing the United States to gain the status of a colonial power. Consequently, small state-owned companies were put under pressure to move out of drugs production of that weakened small state economies.[69] Smaller states within the Caribbean were encouraged in engagement measures such as extradition treaties with the United States and access to territorial waters when pursuing suspected drugs smugglers. A trade-off for the coastal microstates that cooperated with the United States was the projection of maritime law enforcement operations to seaward of their territorial waters, enlarged capacity of regular wide-ranging maritime patrols of partner states, and improved intelligence from security partners with money and assets such as the USCG.

By 1996, the United States State Department noted improved cooperation between some states within the Caribbean Sea, and strong support from others, such as Barbados, although the capacity of the smaller state’s marine authorities remained limited. Barbados had been noteworthy as willing to cooperate with United States maritime law enforcers, as it provided a strong enforcement capacity and judicial system, which had increased drug-related arrests and lowered crime generally. Other states had been unable to finance law enforcement that could effectively address the rate of drug trafficking.[70] Although most Caribbean states had cooperated to fight narcotics smuggling, official corruption and insufficient marine patrol vessels hampered the effectiveness of law enforcement capacity at sea for some microstates.[71] To an extent, some Caribbean states retained the financial, trade and/or security support of more powerful European states, including United Kingdom, Netherlands and France. Mexico, on the other hand, has had sufficient military capacity to mount counter-narcotics operations but have had to stretch them along a 10,000 km coastline, extending from the Pacific Ocean, Gulf of Mexico and into the Caribbean Sea. Unlike the legal restraints imposed upon the United States Navy by the Posse Comitatus Act, which legally prohibits all United States military, with the exception of the USCG, from carrying out law enforcement operations, the Mexican Navy (SEMAR) is tasked with providing maritime law enforcement as part of Mexico’s Civil Protection Action Plan that specifically targets narcotics traffickers.[72] According to Vice Admiral Sergio Enrique Henaro Galan, Chief of Staff of the Mexican Navy, one of the Mexican Navy’s primary tasks has been to deny the use of the sea to organised crime.[73]

Nevertheless, a 1996 United States Joint Interagency Task Force-East tally of assets available for interdiction by Caribbean Sea states revealed a general scarcity of resources. In that year, the British Virgin Islands had six patrol boats and one aircraft. Anguila had two patrol boats and St. Martin, Guadeloupe and Martinique had three patrol boats, six fixed-wing aircraft and four helicopters. Antigua and Barbuda had three patrol boats, while St. Kitts and Nevis had four patrol boats. Montserrat had one patrol craft with one crewmember and limited fuel, whereas Dominica had four patrol boats. St. Lucia had four patrol boats but two remained damaged. St. Vincent had four patrol boats, while Barbados had five patrol boats, one damaged. Grenada had four patrol boats and finally, Trinidad and Tobago had some large, medium, and small patrol vessels.[74]

Although ad hoc bilateral agreements targeted specific, known delivery waypoints such as weaker coastal microstates, there were limitations to what they could achieve. Anti-drug trafficking operations in the Caribbean region targeted manufacture, transport and sale of illicit narcotic drugs, estimated to generate US$322 billion per year globally for the black market and organised crime. However, referring to efforts by UK-Jamaican anti-drug smuggling cooperation, Peter Clegg argues that one drawback of bilateral cooperation, as opposed to multilateral cooperation, was that transhipments of cocaine simply moved away from states where law enforcement capacity had increased the risk to traffickers, to less risky areas of the Caribbean.[75] A benefit of making a number of law enforcement at sea agreements was that it expanded the range of sources that collect and collate information. Inter-related information gathered by all agencies and shared across borders between state policing organisations, allowed connections to be made between apparently unrelated incidents that led to the crime gangs themselves.[76]

In March 1999, a report jointly produced by the United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) and the USCG Intelligence Coordination Centre sought to give a broad picture of the ‘forces, events and activities shaping the maritime security environment of the following two decades’ up until the year 2020. The report found that illegal maritime trade and activities due to increasing globalization of trade was facilitating an increase of transnational crime.[77] A 2004 United States Congressional Report did not refer to a paucity of regional assets but does name what the United States saw as the primary challenges. The report emphasised the importance of good regional governance and improved intelligence sharing that would be required to respond to narcotics trafficking, terrorism and corruption. It noted that weak political institutions in the Caribbean Sea left many countries unable to police their own sovereign territories, and porous borders had allowed violent crime to increase, due to drug trafficking and other criminal activities. Although the report argued for increased cooperation between states, it noted that existing initiatives had focused on combating transnational threats and counter-drugs operations. These included intelligence sharing through the Regional Security System (RSS),[78] the Caribbean Information Sharing Network (CISN), the USCG’s Caribbean Support Tender (CST), and Southern Command’s annual Trade Winds exercise.[79] Like early counter-piracy at sea arrangements in Southeast Asia, patchwork bilateral agreements to facilitate a response to narcotics smuggling had been in force between the United States and regional states since the 1980s, but had been ad hoc and lacked a unified approach. During the 1990s, bilateral security agreements with more uniformity were negotiated with 28 Caribbean states; many of these were six-part agreements, had a maritime focus and included shiprider arrangements. These allowed the United States full or partial permission for ship boarding, ship riding, hot pursuit, entry to investigate, and over-flight rights.[80] A weakness of enforcing law at sea within the Caribbean but also Southeast Asia and elsewhere, is that suspects have been able to evade interdiction through well-defined rules of engagement but ill-defined post-interdiction strategies, and/or problematic pursuit restrictions.

Basic Agreements

For international law to function as a mechanism of cooperative behaviour between states, understandings need to be in place as to the principles, rules, codes and conventions that participants agree to adopt and abide by.[81] Even with general agreement, there is likely to be political or capacity limitations. For example, a suspected vessel registered (flagged) to a different state than the home state of the authorities making the arrest, and perhaps the suspect vessel’s crew are citizens of a third state or of multiple states.[82] In that case, the owners of the vessel, as well as the flag state will need contacting to obtain permission to board. An exception to this rule applies if the seized vessel is suspected of engaging in piracy at sea and is stopped on the high sea. Aberrations to international law may depend on the way that states prioritising particular events. Since 2008 within the Gulf of Aden, many states committed warships to prevent pirates hijacking commercial ships for ransom but most states would not prosecute the pirates because of the difficulty of obtaining legal prosecution. Consequently, after seizing weapons and destroying pirate vessels, suspect release has been common. This highlights the problematic nature of law enforcement in international waters. Cooperation between states depends on context, capabilities and law; it may be that what works in one region against a particular security threat, may not work in the same way elsewhere for these reasons.[83]

Nevertheless, by 1997, the United States had six-part agreements with five states, including Antigua and Barbuda, Grenada, St. Kitts and Nevis, St. Lucia, as well as Trinidad and Tobago. At this time, the United States also had partial agreements with eleven other Caribbean states.[84] By mid-2009, there were 27 shiprider agreements in place and operating in the Caribbean. Depending on the details of individual agreements, United States law enforcement officials could ride in local coast guard vessels or vice-versa.[85]

In order to respond to narcotics smuggling, 1996 the United States adopted a strategy to encourage those regional states, where production and/or transhipment of narcotics was known to occur, to assist in interdiction operations. At that time, sources in Colombia and Venezuela transported approximately 30 percent of cocaine through the Eastern Caribbean Sea, bound for United States and European drug-markets. In April 1996, the United States General Accounting Office acknowledged that cocaine trafficking (and use) was a major threat to the social integrity of the United States. A report noted a trend of drug smugglers away from air-related operations toward maritime smuggling activities.[86]

To garner support from states within the Caribbean Sea, the US State Department sought to implement new agreements with governments that might improve cooperation. New maritime security agreements built upon a 1997 general agreement between Caribbean states, ‘Partnership for Prosperity and Security in the Caribbean’. This agreement sought to improve security and uphold norms of international law, and ‘principles enshrined in the Charter of the United Nations … respect the sovereignty of states, good governance … and the rule of law’ and combat organised crime in the region.[87] Some smaller Caribbean states did not have the capacity to conduct effective law enforcement at sea. Exacerbated by widespread corruption amongst Caribbean states, Caribbean states were limited by having small populations, small economies and therefore limited funds available for maritime law enforcement operations. ·

United States officials sought to improve the maritime law enforcement, interdiction capacities of these states by ratifying agreements that allowed United States personnel to commence anti-drug smuggling sea and air operations inside their territorial waters and airspace.[88] Before 1996, no agency of the United States had been able to develop a plan to implement the existing strategy to respond to narcotics smuggling, or provide any fully staffed inter-agency organisations with key roles in the interdiction programs, nor fully resolve intelligence sharing issues. United States officials noted that neither the Director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy, nor the United States Interdiction Coordinator had the authority to command the use of any agency’s operational assets.[89] Caribbean organisations, such as the OAS considered mechanisms and agreements established to achieve these goals as critical to economic and societal security.[90] In February 1997, Richard Bernal, Jamaica’s Ambassador to the United States, stated that despite differences between states over the way that maritime security agreements would operate, there was consensus that there was a need for agreements between states.[91]

Mutual Legal Assistance Treaties, known afterwards as ‘shiprider agreements’, built upon this regional partnership, allowing USCG law enforcement officers to be placed aboard vessels and aircraft to avoid the time-consuming process of obtaining official approval to enter the sovereign territory of states.[92] Shipriders were officials of one state that deployed aboard an official vessel of another state. The agreements facilitated extradition as well as ‘investigation, prosecution, and prevention of crime’. They also provided for ship boarding in international waters and, in at least one case, the turning over of high speed, ‘go-fast’ vessels, previously confiscated by the United States Customs Service, for use in pursuing narcotics smugglers.[93] When suspects tried to avoid arrest when pursued by entering the territorial sea of a second state, the pursuing foreign vessel would be able to continue pursuit as the embarked official of the second state could facilitate a legal interdiction and arrest. This arrangement of hot pursuit allowed a prompt means to gain permission to continue a pursuit across state territorial boundaries but required the pursuing authority to have a suitably fast patrol vessel. The treaties permitted sea and territorial patrols by both the USCG and United States Navy, and search and seizure operations by United States law enforcement authorities, to operate within the territory of Caribbean Sea states, including over flight and landing privileges within these countries. By November 1996, at least ten Caribbean countries had signed on to an individual version of this agreement, yet there was some discontent. Therefore, the leaders of fourteen independent states, one dependency and associate members that form the Caribbean Community and Common Market (CARICOM), met in Barbados on 16 December 1996 to consider alternative arrangements that would provide similar security outcomes, albeit with some assistance because of the limited capacity of some regional states.[94] These member governments called for closer consultation between CARICOM countries and the United States, despite the reservations of some states who felt that the American Government was coercing them.[95]

There were concerns that maritime law enforcement cooperation within the Caribbean would infringe upon sovereign territorial rights. ‘Trust’ would also be a significant hurdle to states cooperating in Southeast Asia in the following decade, where it delayed partnerships between regional states leading to the exclusion of the United States as a participant in the Malacca Straits Security Patrols (MSSPs).[96] Additionally, within the Caribbean, corruption and a lack of trust during the early 1990s led to poor information sharing. A paucity of legislation was in place to smooth cooperation between different states. Legal mechanisms that did exist were weak, open to exploitation by narcotics traffickers. At the time, the absence of a legal framework to facilitate operational cohesion was restricting formation of effective maritime (and air) law enforcement within the Caribbean that could counter-narcotics smuggling activities.[97]

Only interoperability and strong alliances with regional and international partners would allow states to continue to reduce the maritime criminal activities within the Caribbean Sea but smaller states faced considerable challenges. The government of the Caribbean coastal microstate, St. Kitts and Nevis, compared the limitations faced by smaller Caribbean Sea states to a state of war: porous borders and deficient maritime capabilities and resources made the region vulnerable. According to the Prime Minister of St. Kitts and Nevis, Denzil Douglas, it was important that the states engage with international partners, particularly the United States. Such law enforcement engagement had implications for regional counter-narcotics trafficking, supplementing St. Kitts and Nevis’ involvement in other initiatives such as the Regional Intelligence Fusion Centre (RIFC), the Joint Regional Communications Centre (JRCC) and CARICOM watch list.[98]

However, there was an imbalance between what Caribbean states desired to retain in the way of territorial sovereignty and economic underpinnings, and their capacity to provide maritime law enforcement to protect these. If drug cartels could access more money and assets than some states could, it would require the community of states, perhaps through initiatives developed through CARICOM and the Association of Caribbean States (ACS) or external assistance to develop security solutions. CARICOM members include 15 Caribbean states and dependencies, representing mainly the English speaking Caribbean.[99] ACS represents the French and Spanish speaking Caribbean (except Haiti), and has 25 members including the Central American states of Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador and Mexico, and associate members, Aruba, French Guiana, Guadeloupe, Martinique, the Netherlands Antilles and Turks and Caicos.[100] Both CARICOM and ACS provide regional community institutions primarily for promoting economic trade but the wide memberships allow discussion on other issues, such as security; CARICOM listing maritime counter-narcotics smuggling agreements that are in force between its member states and the United States.[101]

External Support
The period from 1995 to 1998 saw the implementation of bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements between the United States and many states in the Caribbean region, including all RSS member states but also the inclusion of external states. The maritime agreements targeted the primary problem of drugs smugglers using the territorial seas of states as havens, allowing them to evade pursuing maritime law enforcement vessels and aircraft in and over international waters. In November 1995, the then Barbados Prime Minister Arthur called on the United Kingdom for additional counter-drug smuggling assistance within the Caribbean Sea region. France, Netherlands and the United Kingdom at the European Union Heads of Government meeting in Madrid raised the question of cooperation in December 1995. The outcome was the production of several reports on ways of combating drugs in Latin America and the Caribbean Region. The first regional meeting on drug-control cooperation, held in Barbados in May 1996, led to a ‘Barbados Plan of Action’. The CARICOM heads of governments in July 1996 subsequently approved a recommended regional approach. Its framework included maritime aspects of drug interdiction operations in the Caribbean. In May 1997, a maritime counter-drug cooperation, discussion paper titled, ‘Beyond mere ad hoc interdiction’ recommended a comprehensive, cooperative approach to maritime and aeronautical interdiction operations in the Caribbean.[102]

Limited capacity of states improved under the six-part bilateral arrangements but capacity building within the Caribbean also came from external actors. External actors, including the United Kingdom, France and the Netherlands, as well as the United States have also boosted the marginal capacity of Caribbean states through their historical, political and trade linkages. These provide operational platforms to act upon a wide range of surveillance and other information sources. States within the Caribbean have relied on external assistance as the most cost effective and timely way to increase capacity. In the interest of wider practical assistance to Caribbean states and capacity building, decommissioned USCG cutters (ocean-going maritime patrol vessels) were transferred to Panama, Costa Rica and Nicaragua, along with training on the operation and maintenance of the vessels. This contrasts with Southeast Asia, where assets and capacity to enforce law at sea have proven more or less adequate, even if regional states were generally under-resourced. The effectiveness of external forces cooperating with Caribbean security at sea was apparent. In 2005, for instance, following a USCG patrol tip-off, the frigate HMS Cumberland and a Lynx helicopter from the Royal Fleet Auxiliary Wave Knight intercepted a speed boat ‘go-fast’ laden with two tonnes of cocaine, with an estimated street value of UK£200 million. Ostensibly, the British warship was patrolling the Western Caribbean Sea on a humanitarian aid and disaster relief patrol. HMS Cumberland’s commanding officer, Simon Ancona stated that this type of operation sent a strong message to governments, their agencies and the armed services, that cooperation between navy and state could answer the challenges that such criminal activities presented.[103]

Individual states have not been entirely helpless, and could at least assist interdiction efforts, as the surveillance capability available to United States and other external forces had not always been available locally. For example, when 360 kilograms of cocaine dropped from an aircraft into the Caribbean Sea near the Dominican Republic’s south coast in early 2007, the small, local, National Drugs Control Agency (DNCD) needed support to find and apprehend those involved. The DEA arrested two men in a boat near the drop as this occurred in international waters, outside the Dominican Republic’s jurisdiction. DNCD official, Rafael Ramirez saw the usefulness of such support by the DEA and Royal Navy forces as their combined capacities facilitated rapid location, interdiction, and arrest of all involved.[104] The Royal Navy’s ship HMS Iron Duke reported in July 2008, its first month on patrol in the Caribbean Sea, that it was able to carry on multiple roles. These included disrupting the activities of suspected drug-runners by interdicting and sinking go-fast speedboats and apprehending their crews, and other maritime safety activities.[105] Another response involved use of a submarine out of the Netherlands Antilles in the southern Caribbean Sea. Using two of these covert vessels for mapping smuggling practices and reporting 24 hours per day on the behaviour of smugglers in the Caribbean Sea, the submarines deploy for up to five weeks at a time.[106] In a similar operation, between 20 February and 17 April 2009, the American attack submarine USS Hawaii deployed in a counter-narcotics smuggling capacity, providing covert surveillance support for the USCG, the United States Navy Frigate USS Crommelin and other naval vessels and P-C3 maritime surveillance aircraft.[107]

Bilateralism Verses Multilateralism

While Southeast Asian states would later need incentive to act, followed by confidence building through constructing a coordinated but non-interfering approach to law enforcement at sea, the USCG had been able to negotiate directly with Caribbean actors. Therefore, there was a requirement that states within the Caribbean come to an agreement on the terms and conditions by which they would cooperate. Maritime law enforcement, counter-smuggling narcotics investigations and maritime surveillance required a whole of region involvement if the ability to apprehend suspects was not to face restriction by legal technicalities. If permission to pursue a vessel suspected of criminal activities was required then established rules and conventions of procedure needed to be in place. Otherwise, suspect vessels could use administrative delays to evade interdiction, by crossing into the territorial waters of another state that did not have a prior agreement in place. It was clear that clarification of the terms and conditions of hot pursuit needed to be as inclusive as possible, in order to obtain permission quickly from the state in which a vessel is registered.

Acceptable arrangements also meant that it had to be acceptable to the USCG, representing the interests of the United States. With its active international presence, Rear Admiral William Baumgartner stated that the USCG evaluated each situation and the availability of authorities and their capacity and competence and partners when carrying out sensitive missions like boarding ships, inspecting cargoes and countering terrorism.[108] Once reaching agreement, ‘acceptable’ arrangements would allow the USCG the needed permission from states to gather information, conduct hot pursuits in order to carry out interdiction of suspect vessels, and to follow through with arrests where appropriate.

Provisions for hot pursuit are contained within UNCLOS, Article 27; the following explanation and anecdote clarifies how successful hot pursuit by an authority such as the USCG typically would occur. If boarding a suspect vessel, the USCG must first contact the state in which a vessel is registered (the ‘flag state’) and request permission to board and search the vessel. Authorities then enforce either United States law, or the law of the state with whom the vessel is registered; only the flag state can give such authorisation.[109] For this reason, the USCG communicates directly with the government of the suspect vessel’s flag state through diplomatic channels. The same applies if the USCG pursues suspect vessels into a territorial sea. Under the six-part bilateral arrangements, the USCG communicates directly at government level with territorial sea state, to gain permission to continue the pursuit; shortening what was previously could be lengthy process. While smaller (often very fast) vessels may be boarded at sea to prevent them eluding pursuing authorities, larger (often slower), vessels are more likely to be checked when in port, for safety reasons. Whether permission to board comes from the ship’s master or the government of its flag state, when contraband is discovered, the flag state and home state are immediately informed.[110] For instance, on 18 March 2007, the United States Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and USCG pursued a Panamanian registered vessel into Panamanian waters, approximately 20 nautical miles off the Panamanian Isla de Coiba. The USCG obtained the consent of Panama, as both the state of registry of the vessel and the state involved, to board and search the vessel. Two shipping containers found after interdiction, had 19,280 kilos (19 metric tonnes) of cocaine stashed inside, worth around $300 million. Secretary of Homeland Security Michael Chertoff referred to this operation as an example of inter-agency teamwork. Admiral Thad Allen, commandant of the USCG referred to this operation as an example of both good intelligence sharing and effective cooperation between law enforcement agencies.[111]

Since standing up the six-part bilateral agreements, there was regional interest in constructing a more comprehensive, regionally focused, law enforcement regime that might be consistent with established international conventions that included maritime crime while having a focus on cooperation between states. A report by the EU Experts Group noted in 1996 that the CARICOM Heads of Governments approved of the concept of a regional agreement in May 1996.[112] However, a 1997 USCG paper suggested that the mixed success of countering the problem of drug addiction within the Caribbean had not led to improved cooperation and coordination between Caribbean states.

Both United States and Caribbean states had sought, often for Cold War purposes, more effective and inclusive security cooperation for some years. The ad hoc multi-national counter-narcotics operations commenced in the Caribbean Sea region involving Caribbean states and Dutch, French, and United States authorities had generated the concept that international security cooperation was possible to counter what were essentially criminal activities within the region. The process of regional multilateral security cooperation had begun with adoption of a Regional Security System (RSS) between 1982 and 1996 –– essentially a program of coordinated aerial security patrols, although they did not necessarily focus on drug smuggling. During this period, RSS member states concluded several regional memorandums of understanding leading to the original RSS Treaty. The RSS Treaty provided a fast, non-bureaucratic mechanism that could react to the general security needs of member states. It also provided crucial confidence building between Caribbean states.

Through regional forums, participants could consider and refine provisions of a draft text through recognizing incompatibilities with existing national legislation. Informal consultations and sub-regional meetings enabled states in the wider Caribbean to focus on, and participate in, the issue of maritime security cooperation. They were similar to regional consultations within Southeast Asia’s annual ‘Shangri-la’ Dialogue meetings.[113] In preparation for a formal diplomatic conference to negotiate a regional agreement, work commenced with three rounds of informal consultations. The first occurred on March 1998 in Curacao, the second on October 1999 in Aruba, and the third on November 2000. In the eastern, northern and the western Caribbean states, subsequent, sub-regional meetings were held. There followed a diplomatic conference held in two sessions. Convened by the foreign ministries of Costa Rica and the Netherlands, the first session took place in Costa Rica during 5-8 November 2001, where several provisions achieved consensus. The second session took place in Aruba from 22-25 April 2002, and convened by the foreign ministries of Costa Rica, the Netherlands and St. Lucia (on behalf of CARICOM). At this session, the states reached consensus on the final text of the Agreement.

Because the agreement-making process was inclusive of many participating states, final agreement was not without compromise. It was the product of intense discussions that sought to balance progression beyond the ad hoc regime (outlined in Article 17 of the 1988 UN Drugs Convention) to accommodate the accepted practice of many regional actors. Promoted as a ‘foundational international legal framework for inter-governmental cooperation’, the UN Drugs Convention built on the 1971 Convention on Psychotropic Substances. As a piece of international law, the UN Drugs Convention respected norms and principles of sovereign equality, territorial integrity of states, and non-intervention in the domestic affairs of other states. As a comprehensive legal means to combat drug trafficking, its prior acceptance internationally provided a legal framework upon which to base the more locally focussed CRMA.[114]

Drugs Convention

What made the UN Drugs Convention a suitable legal base for regional maritime law enforcement was its clear expression of the need for cooperation. Incorporated in Article 17, and headed ‘Illicit Traffic by Sea’, it calls for full co-operation between participating states to suppress narcotics smuggling. Article 17 outlines that there must be cooperation to suppress illicit traffic by sea but that this must conform to international law of the sea, as contained in UNCLOS. The second part of Article 17 refers to the right of authorities to request help from ‘other parties’ to detain and assist the authorities and prevent a suspect vessel from proceeding regardless of whether it is registered or not. The third part of this section permits an authority that suspects a vessel (registered or not) of engaging in illicit trafficking, to contact the state of registry of the suspect vessel to confirm such registry; upon receiving confirmation, the pursuing authority would seek permission to allow appropriate action to be taken against the suspect vessel. Part four (Article 17) details how authority might be granted to the pursuing vessel from the state where the vessel is registered. Allowing for any agreements already in place, this includes interdiction, boarding and searching the suspect vessel. If evidence of illicit drugs trafficking is found, then the pursuing authority may ‘take appropriate action’, such as arresting the vessel, its crew and any cargo. Part five (Article 17) reminds all authorities that the safety of all lives involved is paramount; respect should be given to the security of the vessel and its cargo and the interests of the state of registry or other states that become involved. Part six (Article 17) refers to the responsibility of the pursuing state to allow the suspect vessel’s state of registry to determine the terms of any permission granted to the pursuing authorities to take action. Part seven (Article 17) refers to the need for the suspect vessel’s state of registry to make timely replies to the request to confirm registry, and part eight (Article 17) refers to the need for the pursuing state to also keep the state of registry informed of any actions taken. To improve this request procedure, and expedite requests part nine (Article 17) suggests that all parties should consider entering a formal bilateral or regional agreement. Part ten (Article 17) outlines that authorities are able to interdict vessels and make requests; these include ‘warships or military aircraft, or other ships or aircraft clearly marked and identifiable as being on government service and authorised to that effect.’ Part 11 (Article 17) reminds participating states to respect at all time the sovereignty of other participating states. It calls on all signatories to meet their obligations under the Convention ‘consistent with the principles of sovereign equality and territorial integrity’ of states; of refraining from intervention in other states’ domestic affairs, and not exercising jurisdiction within the territory of other states. Finally, section eleven is a reminder to a pursuing authority of the rights under international law of the sea (UNCLOS) of the jurisdiction of the maritime state’s territorial sea.[115]

However, participating states had to conform to existing law of the sea (UNCLOS) that upheld the rights and obligations and the exercise of jurisdiction of states within their own territories. As an international legal regime, the UN Drugs Convention promoted law enforcement cooperation between actors to counter a specific criminal activity. Although obligations applied to states who agreed to the UN Drugs Convention, clear guidelines as to the scope of the convention made clear that, the territorial sovereignty of individual states was always to be respected. Measures taken by participating states were only expected to comply legislatively and administratively within their own domestic laws.

Any obligation to abide by the convention did not exclude states from the ‘principles of sovereign equality and territorial integrity of States and … non-intervention in the domestic affairs of other States’.[116] Therefore, the UN Drugs Convention supported jurisdiction within a territory remaining the domain of the state possessing territorial sovereignty over it. However, Article seven of the UN Drugs Convention noted that participating states should mutually assist other participating states in investigations, intelligence sharing and prosecutions.[117]

Post 9/11 Funding

Renewed political willingness and the standing up of the United States Department of Homeland Security promised increased funding and resource allocation for authorities including the USCG. So coincidently, crime at sea received renewed attention and maritime law enforcement benefited. This also renewed the United States’ interest in projecting influence in the fight against terrorism into regions not visited since the end of the Cold War. Large-scale smuggling of narcotics through the Caribbean Sea saw illicit drugs transported by water and air, bound for the North America and Europe (via Africa’s West Coast). After 9/11 terrorist attack, concerns that weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) were being transported by sea to fuel terrorism, led to further tightening of security at sea, which also had some impact on a response to narcotics smuggling. A transformation occurred within international maritime law globally. New agreements sought to protect maritime practitioners globally by combating, piracy at sea, terrorism, proliferation of [WMDs], and narcotics trafficking. The new regimes, such as the PSI and ISPS Code promised better integration and cooperation between states regarding specific maritime security, and targeting ports and ships at sea.[118]·

Attempts at Multi-lateralism

From the UN Drugs Convention, a more inclusive multilateral agreement was created that proposed an umbrella mechanism for regional Caribbean law enforcement at sea cooperation. Initial negotiations in 2002 sought to progress from the bilateral agreements to a more inclusive multilateral agreement. Costa Rica, Netherlands and CARICOM, supported by regional governments, co-chaired the initial meetings. Originally titled, ‘Agreement Concerning Cooperation in Suppressing Illicit Maritime and Air Trafficking in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances in the Caribbean Area’, the Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement (CRMA) was drafted in November 2001-03.[119] Whereas UNCLOS was guidance for the peaceful use of the sea, making only limited reference to actions that states could take during periods of war, it has only a limited provision for enforcement of international law in specific areas of security at sea. However, UNCLOS does recommend that states cooperate with each other.[120] Therefore, the CRMA was building upon the legal framework already provided by the UN Drugs Convention and supported by maritime conventions contained within UNCLOS. This is similar to Southeast Asian states’ early efforts to stem piracy at sea. Cooperation was limited, with the basis for operational maritime security coordination relying on IMO Circulars, external prompting and support, and regional forums. However, the United States, State Department caveat in the introduction to the CRMA, cautioned that preventing use of the Caribbean Sea for smuggling narcotics would be a complex activity.[121] A briefing to the United Nations Division for Ocean Affairs and the Law of the Sea (DOALOS) by Michele Ameri and Michael Shewchuk outlined significant challenges that had to be faced when standing up regional maritime security agreements. These included the ratification of, or accession to, relevant international conventions, effective implementation of the conventions; internal coordination; effective law enforcement; bilateral, regional and multilateral cooperation; and finally, the minimising of cost to the maritime industry.[122] A Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement (CRMA) would attempt to create a juridical structure for regional, sub-regional and bilateral cooperation. It would allow maritime law enforcement operations, form the basis for further operational and juridical agreements, and set out modern operational procedures for confirmation of the nationality of suspect vessels and aircraft. This would allow cooperative embarkation of law enforcement officials, and procedures for providing assistance by authorised vessels and aircraft in suppressing narcotics smuggling when boarding and searching suspect vessels. The CRMA would generally follow the pattern of the six-part bilateral agreements, and would address ship-boarding, ship-riding, pursuit, entry to investigate, over flight and the relaying of orders and instructions to aircraft.[123]

Several states had signed bilateral agreements although not the CRMA, yet this was progress towards accepting a multilateral model. It was the confidence created by the bilateral arrangements that supported the potential success of the CRMA. According to the United States State Department, by 2007, various Caribbean states had signed the CRMA, tentatively supporting the idea or waiting before formally participating. Guyana had signed, Haiti and Jamaica had also signed but not ratified it; Suriname (1997) and Trinidad and Tobago had signed comprehensive bilateral agreements, both of which were in force. In addition, St. Lucia and St. Vincent and the Grenadines had signed limited maritime agreements in 1995 with the United States.[124] The Bahamas cooperated with the United States and had a Comprehensive Maritime Agreement (CMA) in place that went into force in 2004.Cuba had not signed the CRMA although it participated in the initial negotiations and provided some information on suspects and vessels to other governments. The Dominican Republic had not ratified the CRMA but did sign a bilateral ‘Maritime Counter-Drug Operations’ agreement with the United States that allowed for limited cooperation.

As the main authority promoting the CRMA, the USCG had an interest in taking the groundwork cooperation that the bilateral agreements had created, a step further. The USCG later attempted to offer a similar model to states in Southeast Asia, albeit with less success than was the case in the Caribbean with the CRMA. For the USCG, the purpose of the Caribbean agreement was to further the cooperation seen in the bilateral agreements without excluding normative regional practices. It sought practical application of legal measures previously endorsed by CARICOM Attorneys General and Heads of Governments, the RSS, the EU and the United States Government. Opening for signature on 10 April 2003 in San Jose, Costa Rica, the intent of the CRMA was to provide an international model for maritime interdiction of drugs and other illicit traffic, recognising the limited capacity of states to fight narcotics smuggling alone. Despite different perceptions of states regarding threat, and limitations of their capacities, the CRMA was expected to consolidate regional and sub-regional security cooperation. Surveillance and other information would be available to participating states 24 hours per day, seven days per week, and operational requests, authorisations and coordination between authorities to suppress illicit traffic facilitated. All this whilst respecting the flag-state in vessel interdictions, and state jurisdictions during hot pursuit. Through cooperation, confidence building would continue in the Caribbean Sea, perhaps offering a lesson for other regional negotiations, such as Southeast Asia on similar maritime law enforcement issues. Some flexibility was built into the CRMA so those states party to the agreement could elect provisions or add caveats to suit individual requirements and followed national interests regarding hot-pursuit, entry to investigate, over-flight, and orders to aircraft and ship boarding. These options were added to reduce the potential for problems with signing, ratifying and implementing the agreement, or affect existing or future bilateral or sub-regional agreements.[125]

Whereas the six-part bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements became established Caribbean arrangements, indicating normalisation of security cooperation, acceptance of the CRMA was merely in-principle, and therefore uncertain. When the CRMA became operational, it was to provide a comprehensive multilateral agreement on law enforcement interdiction at sea. Its region-specific focus on the Caribbean differed to the wider, international focus of the ISPS Code and the UN Drugs Convention. By January 2009, several Caribbean states had signed the agreement, although it lacked the required minimum number of states (five) that would bring it into force.[126] Until the CRMA came into force with the requisite minimum ratifications, regional maritime law enforcement cooperation in the Caribbean Sea would consist of existing, multiple bilateral arrangements that have been in place since the mid-1990s. Although patchy and ad hoc at times, cooperation had been consistent since the bilateral agreement-making during the 1990s, but the slow up-take of the CRMA indicated that multilateral arrangements required more than forum discussions between states and external states, or the presence of a powerful state to initiate the process. A successful multilateral agreement would rely on the participation of states, ongoing confidence building, and a belief that all actors would be better off under the new arrangements than they were under existing bilateral ones.

4.6 Post 9/11: Terrorism and Security at Sea

Fear and Terror
Since the events on 11 September 2011 (9/11), an association between maritime criminal activities and terrorism changed the perimeters of maritime security. Conflict or threats of belligerency against states became a legitimized response to the United States ‘war on terror’, blurring the former distinction between crime for profit and acts of war between states.[127] In Southeast Asia, linking piracy at sea with terrorism and its association with Islam likely influenced a rejection of cooperation between regional states and the United States. Within the Caribbean, on the other hand, the ‘war on terror’ led to a merging of resources that benefited the ‘war on drugs’ through increased capacity, funding and resources, without noticeably undermining bilateral agreements with Caribbean states. In addition, unlike Southeast Asia, Islamic terrorists did not appear to have obvious cultural, economic or political links to states within the Caribbean that had agreements with the United States.

The war on terrorism prompted discussion about the role of military forces. Did this new threat require a law enforcement or military response? Maritime law enforcement had been seen as primarily a USCG duty, partly because of the ‘posse comitatus’ limitations on United States military forces conducting enforcing United States law; this was despite participation of United Kingdom, French and Dutch naval warships in counter-drugs operations. After 2001, counter-terrorism prompted ongoing discussions within the services of the United States about roles, security and law enforcement. Terrorists were the enemy but it was unclear if this required law enforcement or a military response. Commander Jeff Breslau of the United States Navy Central Command comments that a primary focus of (naval) maritime operations after 9/11 terrorist attack was to prevent terrorists from making use of the sea to move weapons or people or to launch attacks. Dan Tremper of the USCG argues that it was still the job of the USCG to provide maritime law enforcement.[128] USCG Commandant Admiral Thad Allen conceded that maritime law enforcement had changed over time. Since 1979, USCG’s boardings at sea were armed operations. In 1989, the Joint Inter-Agency Task Force-South (JIATF-S) was set up. Significantly, the United States Department of Defence had taken on an ancillary mission focus of responding to low-security maritime threats such as narcotics smuggling within the Caribbean Sea.[129]

Since narcotics smuggling had become a covert maritime criminal activity, its black market profits linked to terrorism, necessitating that existing security mechanisms, including maritime security, be complimentary to the new imperative of defeating terrorist activity against the United States. Consequently, a December 2004 United States national security presidential directive initiated a ‘roadmap’ to better maritime awareness. The aims of the roadmap were to collate information on all maritime traffic (shipping) bound for United States ports. Some media commentators saw a connection between the covert nature of narcotics smuggling and potential terrorist activities. Maritime terrorists would not deliver a weapon in a container, they argued, it would be transported by small boat or submersible like those used by drugs smugglers.[130] Possibly influenced by similar ideas, the roadmap called for ‘electronic tripwires’ to be placed on the sea-bed in a wide area to detect drug smuggling vessels and to identify these, as was done during the Cold War to detect submarines. The roadmap also sought to utilise information-gathering methods, especially human intelligence as well as open source research.[131] The ideas about cooperation had changed from cooperation to something akin to covert military operations.

Wider Anti-Terror Measures Although the Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) and Statement of Interdiction Principles (SIP) are applied globally rather than specifically targeting the Caribbean or Southeast Asia, they are included here in order to illustrate how the United States created a legal framework to enhance cooperation between states on a specific maritime security issue. Following the 9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001, the United States sought a legal, in principle statement for further security cooperation, leading efforts to counter the spread of weapons. PSI and SIP aligned with the stated basic function of the IMO to provide a mechanism for cooperation among Governments, through government regulation and practice in technical matters affecting shipping engaged in international trade.[132] This met an International Maritime Organisation (IMO) responsibility to provide guidance on security at sea through its conventions, codes and treaties, and to promote cooperation between states. Nevertheless, the main benefactor of the post-9/11 maritime law enforcement provisions has been the United States.[133]

One outcome of PSI and SIP that increased the security at ports in both the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, and had did not require incursions across territorial boundaries, or require states to manage cooperative mechanisms with other states was the International Ship and Port Facility Security Code (ISPS Code). Heightened security after the 9/11 terrorist attacks saw millions of shipping containers, bulk carriers and ports handling cargo bound to the United States mainland subject to a higher level of scrutiny. A 1997 United States Department of Transportation Maritime Security Report contained a maritime interdiction strategy involving surveillance and apprehension, including detecting and intercepting suspected smugglers, searching cargoes, seizing contraband, arresting suspects and confiscating their equipment.[134] The International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS) essentially facilitated the ISPS Code. SOLAS provided an existing framework based on safety at sea but providing a means to attach a section for preventing transport of weapons by sea. This meant that all 148 states that signed onto SOLAS would be signatories to, and therefore comply with the ISPS Code. The IMO states that the ISPS Code was put into practice through ‘SOLAS, chapter XI-2 Special Measures to Enhance Maritime Security’.[135] The Code was adopted in December 2002; it entered into force on 1 July 2004 with the purpose of providing ‘a standardised, consistent framework for evaluating risk, enabling governments to offset changes in threat with changes in vulnerability for ships and port facilities through determination of appropriate security levels and corresponding security measures’.[136]

Although the ISPS Code is an international means to prevent nuclear, biological and chemical weapons (WMDs) from being shipped to United States ports, thus protecting American national interests, it also had incidental benefits for other maritime security areas. The ISPS Code allowed supplementary inspections of containers around the world, resulting in increasing detection of narcotics and other illegally smuggled goods. The Code improved enforcement of law in international waters, and in territorial seas in areas that the UNCLOS did not provide. Although the ISPS Code offered internationally accepted agreement on how and when interdiction in port is conducted, deciding which states could carry out interdiction, and which state’s vessels could be targets of interdiction operations was a contentious aspect.[137] Whereas the IMO does not issue ‘black lists’ of states or ports that do not comply with the ISPS Code, an additional code of practice was enshrined within the United States Customs Container Security Initiative (CSI) 2006. CSI also sought to serve the maritime security interests of the United States interests following 9/11 terrorist attacks by targeting shipping containers bound for United States ports. By identifying, pre-screening and X-raying containers to detect threatening, imported material or weapons. The ambiguity in PSI, SIPS, the ISPS Code and CSI has allowed the United States some flexibility as to which state or international actor is targeted. Moreover, it allows states with veto powers in the United Nations Security Council, who may legitimately ship nuclear weapons and materials, to avoid being targeted as long as they do not export WMDs to rogue states or non-state actors.[138] Although the ISPS Code is ambiguous on the issue of how a threat will be determined, and by whom, CSI is more specific. Accordingly, and unlike the IMO, the USCG publishes lists of ports around the world that are not deemed to have given sufficient regard to anti-terrorism measures laid down by the these codes of practice.

Not specifically created to oppose narcotics smugglers, other measures aiming to improve maritime port and shipping security benefited Caribbean law enforcement at sea. Although the International Ship and Port Facility Security Code (ISPS Code) was intended as an anti-weapons trafficking measure, it also benefited other maritime law enforcement operations. The introduction of the ISPS Code in July 2004, and Container Security Initiative (CSI) in 2006, placed emphasis on port inspections, and assessment of vessels carrying containers bound for the United States. Searching for weapons materials, authorities of participating states began to scan and physically examination suspect containers, increasing the likelihood of discovering illicit drug smuggling.[139] For instance, in November 2006, Drug Enforcement Unit (DEU) officers in Freeport, Grand Bahama Island, Bahamas, along with Customs and Container Port Security personnel searched a container destined for Nigeria, a known transhipment state for narcotics bound for Europe.[140] Inside the container, authorities found 26 boxes filled with 285 grey, black and clear packages of cocaine, totalling around 285 kilograms. Consequently, a widening of maritime security measures benefited law enforcement at sea within the Caribbean (and elsewhere). By including Caribbean ports and adopting security upgrades to meet ISPS Code requirements, some notable interdictions occurred after 2004. Although the ISPS Code complimented law enforcement through its requirement for improved security generally, it focussed on port security rather than security at sea. Increasing rates of successful interdiction by the USCG suggested that changes in the amount of either narcotics being smuggled, or the tactics used by the USCG to interdict drug smugglers, and possibly the effects of the ISPS Code, were paying dividends in the form of successful interdictions. The USCG noted a steady increase of narcotics seizures from 1994 through to 2007, peaking in 2005; one year after adoption of the ISPS Code.[141] However, there were also indications of declining success after 2005.

Implications

While the above codes of practice have sought specifically to protect the interests of the United States, international conventions comprising law of the sea (UNCLOS) provides other legal rights protecting maritime users and the interests of states, especially territorial sovereignty, that have implications for the enforcement of law at sea in the Caribbean, Southeast Asia and elsewhere. Three nautical miles out to sea from the littoral had been a traditional, jurisdictional maritime frontier since 1703 when Dutch jurist Cornelius van Bynkershoek determined that the limit of a state’s territory to seaward was the distance a shot-ball would travel if fired from a cannon on shore. Following ratification of UNCLOS III on 16th of November 1994, states were able to claim an enlarged territorial sea of up to 12 nautical miles, measured from the low-tide mark of the coastline. Since 1996, 137 states have declared a 12 nautical mile limit, some claiming an additional 24 nautical mile contiguous zone where municipal laws might be applicable. The Caribbean Sea and Southeast Asia are therefore in the same way archipelago regions, constrained by the geographical, political and jurisdictional boundaries, and legally defined by the conventions of international law.

Questions of ownership of territory, the land, and the seas that surrounded it, have been contentious and on-going issues that present another layer of suspicion that confidence building has sought to overcome.[142] Archipelagos, including those comprising Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions are aberrations from Grotian reasoning that possession of portions of the sea and/or shore is subject to use and occupation.[143] A twentieth century incorporation of Grotius claim, UNCLOS confirms that the sea cannot not be owned beyond the immediate possession of those who use its shores, nor can any state ‘contain’ a part of the high seas, aside from economic claims to the seabed in the Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZ).[144] However, the concept of res communisomnium, borrowed from old Roman law, still guides contemporary international maritime law.[145] At the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in Hamburg, Judge BudislavVukas stated that the concept of res communisomnium provides a basis for peaceful uses for the oceans, rather than naval warfare.[146]

What comprises peaceful use of the ocean is made clear in UNCLOS, an important point that has avoided misunderstandings regarding the day-to-day activity of marine authorities. UNCLOS refers to legal extent of territorial jurisdiction (the right of authority over a specific territory), making provision for resolving legal disputation and promoting global and regional awareness of maritime boundaries. For instance, Article 19 of UNCLOS clearly prohibits actions by external states that present a threat to states, or that involve transport of illegal cargoes, including narcotics, giving vessels the right to conduct innocent, non-aggressive passage through any territorial sea, and this supports the intent of the ISPS Code, PSI and SIPS. Passage of a vessel is considered ‘innocent’ if it does not affect the ‘peace, good order or security’ of the coastal state. On the other hand, such passage is not considered innocent if the vessel seeks to threaten the territorial sovereignty or political independence of states, make use of weapons of any kind, or violate any other principles of international law embodied in the United Nations Charter.[147]

New Tactics, New Laws

New tactics by narcotics smugglers have meant that the United States, as the driver behind Caribbean maritime law enforcement agreements, has had to adapt policy when required, without undermining the basic legal protection to individual states. Other factors placed narcotics smuggling back in the spotlight of Caribbean law enforcement at sea cooperation after 2006. Captain WadeWilkenson (United States Navy) stated that the use of semi-submersibles, sending increasing numbers of smaller loads to spread the risk to any one shipment both contributed to declining success of law enforcement at sea. Compared to the 2001-2006 period, the increasing use of semi-submersibles by drug smugglers led to a thirty-seven percent decrease in the number of successful interdictions in the 2007-2008 period.

In a similar way that pirates in Southeast Asia used the different jurisdictions of states to make pursuit by authorities more difficult, Caribbean drug smugglers were increasingly using the protection of the littoral by transiting through multiple territorial seas and jurisdictions, rather than risking a transit of international waters, risking interdiction by any law enforcement or naval authority.[148] Maritime criminals adapted their activities in the Caribbean and so as the principle driver of cooperative security at sea in the region, the United States responded through legal means. For instance, legislation in 2008 proscribed the use of submersible vessels by drugs smugglers.[149] Part of the Homeland Security Subcommittee on Transportation Security and Infrastructure Protection, United States Congressman Dan Lungren, recognised the USCG requests for legal tools to counter smuggler’s tactics. The covert nature of semi-submersibles and their increasing sophistication made the issue a serious problem, threatening the national security of the United States because it posed the possibility of terrorists adopting similar methods; it therefore had to be stopped.[150] Consequently, the Drug Trafficking Interdiction Act was put into force to prohibit operation of any submersible or semi-submersible vessel without a nationality, navigating ‘through or from waters beyond the outer limit of the territorial sea of a single country’ and activity that attracts a maximum penalty of 15 years imprisonment. This was an effective legal measure. In September 2008, USCG interdicted an unregistered (therefore, stateless) vessel found to contain over six metric tonnes of cocaine with an estimated street value of US$196 million.[151] In the same month, the USCG seized seven tonnes of cocaine with an estimated street value of $8.4 million during a successful interdiction vindicating USCG reliance on pursuing a legal course of action.[152] Significantly, the Drug Trafficking Vessel Interdiction Act of 2008 signalled that the United States supported maritime law enforcement through legal means, assigning a specific criminal activity a status external to the protection of a sovereign state. Whereas this Act sought to position this activity as a threat to United States national security, as a form of covert transport that could be used to carry weapons to be used against United States interests, it also reaffirmed that the United States was willing to maintain security beyond its borders through rule of law. The Act situated drugs smugglers in a similar legal category as pirates, deeming them enemies of humankind: a clear reference to this behaviour running counter to established, international norms.[153]

Conclusion

Whereas non-traditional maritime security cooperation in Southeast Asia would later indicate resistance to a United States’ proposed security initiative of regional cooperation at sea, this was not the case within the Caribbean. In the Caribbean, consensus amongst many states that bilateral security cooperation at sea with the United States was in their best interests did not broaden into a desire for a multilateral security-at-sea mechanism. This contrasts with later events in Southeast Asia, where there was consensus to exclude the United States when maritime security was associated with the political crime of terrorism, but law enforcement cooperation at sea between select states did occur to regarding the less politically loaded threat of piracy at sea. Despite successes, the United States was not entirely successful in other theatres of operations. Southeast Asia’s exclusion of the United States participation forms the subject of the next chapter.

[1] ‘G8 Wants Closer Cooperation to Fight Terrorism, Piracy’, Agence France-Presse (AFP), 31 May 2009.
[2] ‘Nixon Calls for National War on Drugs’, The Blade, Toledo, Ohio, 2 June 1971.
[3] Norman Girvan, ‘Reinterpreting the Caribbean’, in New Caribbean Thought: a Reader, Folke Lindahl and Brian Meeks, (eds), University of West Indies Press, ch. 1, 2001.
[4] T.A. Martin, ‘The Impact of Narco-Trafficking and Interdiction on Shipping’, Strategic Insights, no. 15, Risk Intelligence, November 2008, pp. 8-12.
[5] Craig H. Allen, ‘Doctrine of Hot Pursuit: a Functional Interpretation Adaptable to Emerging Maritime Law Enforcement Technologies and Practices’, Ocean Development and International Law, vol. 20, iss. 4, 1989, pp. 309-341.
[6] ‘Preamble’, Charter of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, 13th ASEAN Summit, Singapore, 20 November 2007.
[7] United Nations Convention on Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), ‘Right of Hot Pursuit’, Part VII. High Seas, Section 1: General Provisions, Article 111, 1982.
[8] ‘Flagged’ commonly refers to the registry of a vessel; all registered vessels fly the national flag of the state in which a vessel is registered.
[9] IMO, ‘Piracy and Armed Robbery Against Ships: Recommendations to Governments for preventing and suppressing piracy and armed robbery against ships’, MSC/C 133, 26 June 2009, pp. 6-7.
[10] According to the IMO ‘acts of violence’ on vessels at sea refers to piracy, armed robbery against ships and other security incidents directed against vessels at sea not falling into one of these categories. Violence against ships was the only aspect that formed part of the IMO regulations in the ‘Measures to Enhance Maritime Security: Directives for Maritime Rescue Co-ordination Centres (MRCCS) on Acts of Violence against Ships’, Maritime Security Circular 1073, 10 June 2003.
[11] Watson R. Denis, ‘The Battle for the Caribbean Sea’, The Greater Caribbean this Week; ACS-AEC (Association of Caribbean States–Asociacion de Estadosdel Caribe), 26 April 2006.
[12] Jessica Byron, ‘CARICOM and Security Governance: Probing the Limits of Regional Cooperation’, (paper presented at) International Studies Association 49th Annual Convention, Bridging Multiple Divides, Hilton, San Francisco, 26 March 2008, pp. 5-7.
[13] United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, ‘Executive Summary: Trends in World Drug Markets’, 2007 World Drug Report, 2007.
[14] OAS, Maritime Drug Trafficking Routes and Methods in the Americas, Organization of American States Inter-American Drug Abuse Control Commission, 24th Regular Session, CICAD/doc. 984/98, Tegucigalpa, Honduras, 5 October 1998; The Dublin Group periodically prepares analysis on international drug problems, and its membership includes European Commission and the Member States of the European Union (EU), the United States, Canada, Australia, Japan and Norway, with UNODC also participating and the Secretariat of the Group being assured by the EU Council Secretariat–– Regional Dublin Group, Regional Report on the Caribbean, Council of the European Union, Brussels, 16 January 2008, p. 1.
[15] Peter Benchley, The Island, Garden City, NY Doubleday and Co. Inc., 1979, p. 103.
[16] Kaldone G. Nweihed,’Region II, Middle America and Caribbean Maritime Boundaries’, in Jonathon I. Charney and Lewis M. Alexander, (eds),International Maritime Boundaries: vol. 1, American Society of international Law, MartinusNijhoff Publishers, 1993.
[17] Nweihed, ‘Region II’.
[18] Ramesh Deosaran, Crime, Delinquency and Justice, Ian Randle Publishers, Jamaica, 2007, p. 546.
[19] Various Caribbean states face different threats to territorial sovereignty, and partly this is due to geography. Haiti and Dominican Republic share the same island of Hispaniola but face different challenges in economics and development; Belize and Guyana are situated in Central and South America and therefore subject to other influences such as weak borders and territorial disputes; maritime issues have arisen regarding territory between Trinidad and Tobago, Guyana and Suriname.–––Byron, ‘CARICOM and Security Governance’.
[20] Ivelaw L. Griffith, ‘Caribbean Regional Security’, Strategic Forum, National Defense University, Institute for National Strategic Studies, Washington DC, no. 102, February 1997, pp. 1-6.
[21] Deosaran, Crime, Delinquency and Justice.
[22] David M. Luna, Narco-Trafficking: What is the Nexus with the War on Terror? Armed Forces Communications and Electronics Association (AFCEA), International Conference, Miami, Florida, 8 October 2008.
[23] Regional Dublin Group, Regional Report on the Caribbean.
[24] Girvan, Norman, ‘Reinterpreting the Caribbean’.
[25] Francisco Rojas-Aravena, ‘The New Security Agenda in the Caribbean: The Challenge of Cooperation’, in The Challenge of Regional Cooperation, Ralph H. Espach, and Joseph S. Tulchin, (eds), Lynne Rienner, Boulder, Colorado, 2000, p. 66.
[26] Rojas-Aravena, ‘The New Security Agenda’, p. 65.
[27] Sidney W. Mintz, ‘From Plantations to Peasantries in the Caribbean’, in Sidney Mintz and Sally Price, (eds), Caribbean Contours, Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1985, p. 130.
[28] Denis, ‘The Battle for the Caribbean Sea’.
[29] Axel Klein, ‘Between the Death Penalty and Criminalization: New Directions for Drug Control in the Commonwealth Caribbean’, New West Indian Guide/ Nieuwe West-IndischeGids, (Royal Institute of Linguistics and Anthropology, Leiden, Netherlands), vol. 75, nos. 3 and 4, 2001, p. 193-227.
[30] Janelle Conway, ‘The Caribbean Combats Terrorism (OAS)’, (Brief Article), Americas (English Edition), vol. 54, no. 1, January-February 2002, p. 55.
[31] Puerto Rico is part of the Commonwealth of the United States; the United States Virgin Islands regarded as United States territory.
[32] Mintz, ‘From Plantations to Peasantries’.
[33] ‘The Americas’, ‘Reducing the Threat of Non-State Actors: Drugs’, INSS Strategic Assessment 1998: Engaging Power for Peace, Hans A. Binnendijk, and David C. Gompert, (eds), Institute for National Strategic Studies National Defense University, Washington DC, chapt.7, 1998.
[34] Michael Manly, ‘The Drugs Menace’, address at the opening of the Inter-Ministerial Conference on Drugs, Kingston, Jamaica, 2 October, 1989, in Klein, ‘Between the Death Penalty and Criminalization’.
[35] Vice Admiral Sergio Enrique Henaro Galan Chief of Staff Mexico Navy, ‘The Commanders Respond’, US Naval Institute Proceedings, vol. 134, iss.3, March 2008, p. 28-43.
[36] Tommy Turnquest (Bahamas National Security Minister), in Roger W. Bencze, (ed.), The International Cocaine Weekly Round-up, 25 May - 01 June 2007, Joint Interagency Task Force South, US Southern Command Miami, Florida, United States, 2007.
[37] S. Coward,‘Crime and Violence Undermining Caribbean Development: Drug Trafficking, Terror Networks Core Issues’, Caribbean Press Releases.com, 31 October 2007.
[38] Rojas-Aravena, ‘The New Security Agenda’, p. 65.
[39] ASEAN’s 10 core member states include; Cambodia, Laos, Singapore, Thailand, Philippines, Myanmar, Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia and Brunei.
[40] UN Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC) ‘Latin America and the Caribbean in the World Economy 2007: Trends 2008’, Executive Summary, December 2008, p. 25.
[41] ‘CARICOM’s Intra-Regional Trade: 2001- 2006’, CARICOM’s Trade - a Quick Reference to Some Summary Data: 2001-2006, Caribbean Community Secretariat, 2007, pp.1-37.
[42] Emilio PantojasGarcía, ‘Economic Integration and Caribbean Identity: Convergences and Divergences’, Caribbean Studies, vol. 36, no. 1, January-June 2008, pp. 53-74.
[43] Australian Government: Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, ‘The Caribbean: Economic Overview’ September 2009, (note: these figures do not include Haiti since the earthquake on 12 January 2010).
[44] Thomas Jefferson, ‘First Inaugural Speech 1801’, in A. Norman Jeffares and Martin Gray, (eds), Harper Collins Dictionary of Quotations, Collins, Glasgow, 1995.
[45] ‘Maritime Drug Law Enforcement Act’, US Title 46A-Shipping (Appendix), ch. 38, Justia US Law, US Code, 1986.
[46] John R. Hamilton, ‘U.S. Caribbean Relations: A Partnership for Security and Prosperity’, The Disam Journal, Summer, 1997, pp. 41-47; Organisation of American States (OAS), The Maritime Drug Trafficking (Suppression) Act, Jamaica, 28 February1998; CARICOM Secretariat, Agreement between the Government of the United States of America and the Government of Barbados Concerning Cooperation in Suppressing Illicit Maritime Drug Trafficking, Bridgetown, Barbados, 1997.
[47] The JIAFT, created in 1994 at Key West, includes US agencies (Defense Department, Coast Guard, Customs Service, DEA, FBI, Defense Intelligence Agency; Naval Criminal Investigative Service and NSA); European countries with Caribbean interests that provide ships, planes and liaison officers (UK, France, the Netherlands) and South American countries that assign liaison officers (Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru).––– International Crisis Group (ICG), ‘Latin American Drugs II: Improving Policy and Reducing Harm’, Latin American Report no. 26, 14 March 2008, notes, p. 23.
[48] SouthCom, ‘Area of Responsibility’, United States Southern Command, 31 January, 2011.
[49] Coast Guard Publication 1, ‘US Coast Guard: America’s Maritime Guardian’, ch. 1, January 2002, p. 6.
[50] ‘Pacific Tactical Law Enforcement team’, Global Security, 2008; ‘USCG Missions Timeline’, U.S. Coast Guard History Program, US Coast Guard, 28 June 2010.
[51] USCG, Drug Interdiction, Coast Guard Office of Law Enforcement, 2010.
[52] (Major) Leroy C. Bryant, ‘The Posse Comitatus Act, the Military, and Drug Interdiction: Just How Far Can We Go?’ The Army Lawyer, December 1990, pp. 3-11.
[53] ‘A US Sub in Cape Verde against Narco-trafficking’, Afrique En Ligne, Praia, Cape Verde, 16 November 2007.
[54] Coast Guard Publication 1, ‘America’s Maritime Guardian’.
[55] UNODC ‘Executive Summary: Trends’, p. 2.
[56] US Coast Guard, ‘Coast Guard Drug Removal Statistics (in pounds)’, Office of Law Enforcement (CG-531), 2006-2010.
[57] USCG, Drug Interdiction.
[58] Sean R. Schenk, ‘Partnering to Safeguard the Seas’, USNI Proceedings, vol. 136, iss. 9, September 2010, pp. 54-58.
[59] USCG, Drug Interdiction, 2010.
[60] Coward, Crime and Violence.
[61] Theodore Legget, ‘Crime, Violence, and Development: Trends, Costs, and Policy Options in the Caribbean’, United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime and the Latin America and Caribbean Region of the World Bank, Report no.37820, March, 2007.p. 10; International Crisis Group (ICG), ‘Latin American Drugs II: Improving Policy and Reducing Harm’, Latin American Report No.26, 14 March 2008; UNODC Report, ‘Drugs and Crime in Central America and the Caribbean’, 19 June 2008; James G. Stavridis, ‘Whatever Happened to the ‘War on Drugs?’ Joint Force Quarterly, National Defence University, iss. 51, 4th quarter, 2008, pp. 109-113.
[62] Stavridis, ‘Whatever Happened to the ‘War on Drugs?’.
[63] US Department of State, ‘2007 International Narcotics Control Strategy Report’, 24th International Narcotics Control Strategy Report, Washington DC, 1 March 2007, pp. 181-222.
[64] Julia Voelker McQhaid, Maritime Security: Strengthening International and Interagency Cooperation: 19-22 January 2009, Report on Wilton Park Conference W953, ‘Summary and Conclusions’, UK, July 2009, pp. 1-21.
[65] Jonathan M. Winer, Cops across Borders: The Evolution of Transatlantic Law Enforcement and Judicial Cooperation, Council on Foreign Relations, 1 September 2004.
[66] Winer, Cops across Borders’.
[67] Schenk, ‘Partnering to Safeguard the Seas’.
[68] Klein, ‘Between the Death Penalty and Criminalization’.
[69] Trevor Monroe, ‘Cooperation and Conflict in the US-Caribbean Connection’, in Ivelaw Lloyd Griffith, (ed.),The Political Economy of Drugs in the Caribbean, Macmillan, Basingstoke, 2000, pp. 183-200.
[70] US General Accounting Office, Drug Control: US. Interdiction Efforts In The Caribbean Decline, Report to the Chairman, Subcommittee on National Security, International Affairs, and Criminal Justice, Committee on Government Reform and Oversight, House of Representatives, 104th Congress, April 1996, p. 10.
[71] US General Accounting Office, Drug Control.
[72] Bryant, ‘The Posse Comitatus Act’.
[73] Galan ‘The Commanders Respond’.
[74] Joint Interagency Agency Task Force-East (JIATF-E), ‘Selected Eastern Caribbean Host Nation Maritime Interdiction Assets’, in US General Accounting Office, Drug Control, p. 12.
[75] Peter Clegg, ‘Did 9/11 Terrorist Attack Make a Difference?’, in Ivelaw Lloyd Griffith, (ed.), Caribbean Security in the Age of Terror: Challenge and Change, Ian Randle Publishers, ch. 11, 2004, p. 284.
[76] Karen P. Tandy, ‘IDEC XXV Opening Remarks’, International Drug Enforcement Conference, Madrid, Spain, 8 May 2007.
[77] Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), ‘The Future of Maritime Activities’, Threats and Challenges to Maritime Security 2010, US Coast Guard Intelligence Coordination Center, Washington DC, ch. 3, sect.3, March 1999.
[78] Caribbean Regional Security System (CRSS), ‘Purposes and Functions of the System’, 2008.
[79] James T. Hill, General US Army Commander US Southern Command, Fiscal Year 2005 National Defense Authorization Budget Request, Testimony before the House Armed Services Committee, 108th Congress, 2nd Session, US House of Representatives, 24 March 2004.
[80] ‘Over-flight rights’ refers to permission to fly aircraft engaged in law enforcement duties even though they were operating outside their own jurisdiction.
[81] Oran R. Young, ‘Regime Dynamics: the Rise and Fall of International Regimes’ International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp.277-297.
[82] ‘Flagged’ is a commonly used term to describe with which country a vessel is registered therefore the flag it flies at its stern, ie: flying the national flag of the state in which it is registered, a vessel is ‘flagged’ to that state.
[83] B. Buzan, ‘Is International Security Possible?’, in New Thinking about Strategy and International Security, Ken Booth, (ed.), Harper Collins Academic, London, 1991, p. 31.
[84] US, General Accounting Office, Report to Congressional Requesters, Drug Control: Update on U.S. Interdiction Efforts in the Caribbean and Eastern Pacific, 105th Congress, October 1997.
[85] Alex Sanchez, ‘The U.S. Military’s Presence in the Greater Caribbean Basin: More a Matter of Trade Strategy and Ideology or Drugs, Council on Hemispheric Affairs, Washington DC, 23 September 2009.
[86] US General Accounting Office, Drug Control.
[87] CARICOM, ‘Partnership for Prosperity and Security in the Caribbean: Bridgetown Declaration of Principles and Plan of Action’, Caribbean/United States Summit, Bridgetown, Barbados, 10 May 1997.
[88] US General Accounting Office, Drug Control, p. 10.
[89] US General Accounting Office, Drug Control, p. 5.
[90] Coward, ‘Crime and Violence’.
[91] ‘Caribbean Media Association Responds to the Mclaughlin Group’, Caribbean Media Association, 16 March 1997.
[92] ‘Shiprider Agreements’, Caribbean Media Association , vol. 3, no. 2, August 1996-January 1997; Statement by Nicholas Burns, Spokesman, Trinidad and Tobago, ‘Maritime Counter-Drug Cooperation Agreement’, Signing of Extradition and Mutual Legal Assistance Treaties, US Dept. of State, 4 March 1996.
[93] Statement by Nicholas Burns, Spokesman, Trinidad and Tobago, ‘Turn-Over of Four "Go-Fast" Boats’ US Dept. of State, 4 March 1996.
[94] A reference to: Antigua and Barbuda, Bahamas, Barbados, Belize, Dominica, Grenada, Guyana, Haiti, Jamaica, Saint Lucia, St. Kitts and Nevis, St. Vincent and the Grenadines, Suriname, Trinidad and Tobago. Montserrat is a full member but is a dependency of the United Kingdom. Other states are associate members, all are dependencies, and only two of the current five were associate members in 1996; British Virgin Islands and Turks and Caicos Islands.
[95] Anthony T. Bryan, ‘The New Clinton Administration and the Caribbean: Trade, Security and Regional Politics’, Journal of Interamerican Studies and World Affairs, vol. 39, no. 1, Spring, 1997, pp. 101-120.
[96] MSSPs are discussed in Chapter Five.
[97] Maritime Counter-Drug Cooperation in the Caribbean, ‘Beyond Mere Ad Hoc Interdiction’, Paragon, May 15, 1997, Barbados, West Indies, p. 2-3.
[98] Denzil Douglas, ‘A New St. Kitts and Nevis’, Office of the Prime Minister, St. Kitts and Nevis, 7 April 2008; ‘St. Kitts-Nevis’ PM calls for getting tougher on Crime’, Nevis News, 30 December 2008.
[99] The Association of Caribbean States (ACS) represents the French, Spanish and English speaking Caribbean in trade and regional development. Its members include, Antigua and Barbuda, Bahamas, Barbados, Belize, Colombia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominica, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Grenada, Guatemala, Guyana, Haiti, Honduras, Jamaica, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, St Kitts and Nevis, St Lucia, St Vincent and the Grenadines, Suriname, Trinidad and Tobago, and Venezuela. Associate members are Aruba , France (on behalf of French Guiana , Guadeloupe and Martinique ), the Netherlands Antilles and Turks and Caicos. Observer states (non-members) are from further afield, and include Argentina, Brazil, Canada, Chile, Ecuador, Egypt, Finland, India, Italy, the Kingdom of the Netherlands, Korea, Morocco, Peru, Russia, Spain, Turkey, Ukraine, and the United Kingdom.
[100] Association of Caribbean States (ACS), Convention Establishing the Association of Caribbean States, ‘Article IV: Membership’ and ‘Article V:Observers’, 2007; Australian Government: ‘The Caribbean’, Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, 2009.
[101] CARICOM, Legal Instruments/Agreements, Caribbean Community Secretariat, 2010.
[102] Maritime Counter-Drug Cooperation in the Caribbean, ‘Beyond Mere Ad Hoc Interdiction’, p. 2-3.
[103] ‘Drugs Bust “a Sledgehammer Blow”’, BBC News, 1 November 2005.
[104] Joint Interagency Task Force South (JITFS), The International Cocaine Weekly Round-up, US Southern Command , 11-18 May 2007.
[105] ‘UK Naval Ship Intercepts Suspected Drug-Runners In Caribbean’, Defence, London, 28 July 2008.
[106] ‘Submarines Join Fight against Caribbean Drugs’, Amigoe, Netherlands Antilles, Willemstad, 17 March 2008.
[107] ‘USS Hawaii wins award: Submarine honored for counter-drug efforts in Pacific’, Honolulu Advertiser, 10 May 2009.
[108] William D. Baumgartner, ‘USCG admiral speaks on international cooperation’, Harvard Law School, 17 April 2009.
[109] UNCLOS 1982, Article 27 refers to criminal jurisdiction, and Article 108 refers to illicit traffic in narcotic drugs and psychotropic substances on the high seas. Article 17 of the 1988 U.N. Convention against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances (also known as the 1988 Vienna Convention) - this supports Article 108 of UNCLOS 1982, referring to the importance of cooperation to suppress illicit traffic by sea.
[110] US Coast Guard, ‘Narcotics’, US Coast Guard international affairs publications, ch. 6, 2008.
[111] Drug Enforcement Administration, ‘DEA, Coast Guard Make Record Maritime Cocaine Seizure’, in Roger Bencze, The International Cocaine Weekly Round-Up, 23-30 March 2007, pp. 13-14.
[112] USCG, Beyond Mere Ad Hoc Interdiction: Implementing the Caribbean Regional Agreement, (n.d), (unpublished), November 2006.
[113] Discussed in Chapter Five.
[114] United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, ‘UN Crime and Drug Conventions; Drug Control Treaties and Related Resolutions’ 2007; USCG, ‘Beyond Mere Ad Hoc Intervention’.
[115] ‘Illicit Traffic by Sea’, Article 17, UN Convention against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances, 1988.
[116] UN Drugs Convention, Article 17, part 11, 1988.
[117] UN Drugs Convention, ‘Article 7; Mutual Legal Assistance’.
[118] James Kraska, ‘Grasping “The Influence of Law on Sea Power”‘, Naval War College Review, vol. 62, no. 3, Summer, 2009, pp. 113-135.
[119] CRMA, was originally called the ‘Accord Concerning the Cooperation in Suppressing Illicit Maritime and Aeronautical Trafficking in Drugs and Psychotropic Substances in the Caribbean Region’; US Department of State, ‘2007 International Narcotics Control Strategy Report’, 24th International Narcotics Control Strategy Report, Washington DC, 1 March 2007, pp. 181-222.
[120] Natalie Klein, Dispute Settlement in the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2005, p.282; US Senators Jim DeMint and David Vitter noted UNCLOS 1982 lack of provision for covert submarine intelligence gathering, in reference to a US Senate Report, Convention on the Law of the Sea, Committee on Foreign Relations, ‘Executive Report 110-9’, 110th Congress, 1st Session, 19 December, 2007; UNCLOS, part 7, section 1; UNCLOS, Articles 100-107 (anti-piracy); UNCLOS, Article 108 (illicit drug smuggling); UNCLOS, Article 111, ‘Right of Hot Pursuit’.
[121] US Department of State, ‘Maritime and Air Counter Narcotics Agreement in the Caribbean’, 2008.
[122] Michele Ameri and Michael Shewchuk, Maritime Security and Safety, UNITAR/DOALOS Briefing 17 October 2007.
[123] USCG,‘Beyond Mere Ad Hoc Interdiction’.
[124] Department of State, 24th International Narcotics Control Strategy Report.
[125] Kieserman, ‘Illicit Trafficking’.
[126] Anne W. Patterson,Department of State, 24th International Narcotics Control Strategy Report; PSI, SIPS and the ISPS Code are discussed in Chapter 6.
[127] President George W. Bush, “Our ‘war on terror’ begins with Al Qaeda, but it does not end there”, televised address to a joint session of the United States Congress, 107th Congress, 1st Session, 20 September 2001.
[128] Steven Donald Smith, ‘US Navy, Coast Guard on Lookout for Piracy’, American Forces Press Service, Washington DC, 27 January 2006.
[129] Thad Allen, ‘The First Master Chief’.
[130] Stew Magnuson, ‘Watching the Waters’, National Defense, vol. 91, no. 638, January 2007, pp. 8-9.
[131] SOSUS, later expanded to become the Integrated Undersea Surveillance System (IUSS). Operated by the United States and its allies.
[132] IMO, 1948 Convention on the International Maritime Organization, ‘Articles of the Convention’, Article 1(a), Geneva, Switzerland, 6 March 1948, p. 5.
[133] IMO, Introduction to IMO, 2009.
[134] Maritime Security Report, US Department of Transportation: Maritime Administration, Office of Ports and Domestic Shipping, 105th Congress, 1st Session, Washington DC, January 1997.
[135] IMO, International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS), 1974, (Adoption: 1 November 1974; Entry into force: 25 May 1980).
[136] IMO, ‘The International Ship and Port Facility Security Code and Maritime Security’, Consideration and Adoption of the International Ship and Port Facility Security (ISPS) Code, Conference of Contracting Governments to the International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea, 1974, Agenda items 7 and 8, SOLAS/CONF.5/34, 17 December 2002.
[137] Devon Chaffee, Freedom or Force on the High Seas? Arms Interdiction and International Law, Nuclear Age Peace Foundation (draft) 15 August 2003; Jonathan J. Olsen, ‘Naval Interdiction: Considerations in the use of Limited Naval Force in Operations Short of War’, Naval War College, Newport, Rhode Island, 19 June 1993.
[138] Mark R. Shulman, ‘The Proliferation Security Initiative and the Evolution of the Law on the use of Force’, Houston Journal of International Law, vol. 28, iss. 3, pt.1, 2006, pp. 771-828.
[139] OAS, Maritime Drug Trafficking Routes and Methods in the Americas.
[140] T.A. Martin, ‘Shipping, Cocaine, and the West Africa Connection’, Strategic Insights, Risk Intelligence, no. 18 September 2009, pp. 3-10.
[141] Graph created from USCG, Drug Interdiction Statistics, 2008.
[142] Daniel Moran, ‘The International Law of the Sea in a Globalized World’, in Globalization and Maritime Power, (ed.) Sam J. Tangredi, Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defense University, Washington DC, ch. 12, 2002, p. 221.
[143] Hugo Grotius, Freedom of the Seas, 1608, (translation by) Ralph Van DemanMagoffin, James Brown Scott, (ed.), Oxford University Press, 1916, pp. 30a-32a.
[144] W.E. Butler, ‘Grotius and the Law of the Sea’, in Bull, Hedley, Benedict Kingsbury and Adam Roberts, Hugo Grotius and International Relations, Clarendon Press, ch. 6 , 1992, p. 209; Alfred Thayer Mahan, The Influence of Sea Power upon History 1660-1783, Little and Brown, chapt:1, 1918, p.35-42 in Makers of Modern Strategy: from Machiavelli to the Nuclear Age, Peter Paret, (ed.) Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ, ch.16, 1986.
[145] Kemal Baslar, The Concept of Common Heritage of Mankind in International Law, MartinusNijoff, Boston, 1998, pp. 38-42.
[146] BudislavVukas, The Law of the Sea: Selected Writings, MartinusNijhoff, Boston, 2004, pp. 4-5.
[147] UNCLOS 1982, Article 19.
[148] Consolidated Counterdrug Database (CCDB) figures quoted by (Captain) Wade F. Wilkenson (USN), ‘A New Underwater Threat’, United States Naval Institute Proceedings, vol. 134, no. 10, October 2008, pp. 32-37.
[149] ‘Smugglers Take the Subway’, Sydney Morning Herald, 18 July 2008.
[150] Dan Lungren, ‘Lungren Strengthens the Hand of Maritime Law Enforcement’, Dan Lungren Newsletter, 29 September 2008; ‘Lungren Passes Critical Enforcement Tool’, Dan Lungren Newsletter, 30 July 2008.
[151] ‘U.S. Military Nets Second Cocaine Sub in a Week’, CNN, 19 September 2008.
[152] ‘Coast Guard seizes $8.4 million worth of cocaine’, CNN, 14 September 2008.
[153] US Congress, Drug Trafficking Vessel Interdiction Act of 2008, 110th Congress, 2nd Session, 3 January 2008.

Chapter 5: Southeast Asia: Charting its own Course

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5.1 Introduction

Compared to developments within the Caribbean, Southeast Asian states have sought cooperation as a means to establish security independence. Following the events of 11 September 2001 (9/11), Southeast Asian states had concerns about a lack of consultation prior to an announced security initiative. One consequence of this has been that states have preferred to limit regional participation and exclude a key global actor, the United States. Therefore, a distrust of the United States’ intentions at a time of conflicting interests prompted regional states to make their own decisions regarding security partnerships.

5.2 Security at Sea within Southeast Asia

For the United States, its underlying economic and political foundations are democracy and trade; the interconnectedness of international trade and spread of democracy appear to go hand in hand, despite the United States’ own security interests not always aligning with the national interests of other states.[1] To some extent, the interests of commercial stakeholders, such as shipping and shipping insurers can influence the decision making of maritime states in Southeast Asia. Carrying goods by sea has been a preferred, cost efficient means of transport between trading states. Since the majority of all raw and manufactured goods globally have been transported this way at some point, it is perhaps unsurprising that the United Nations describes international shipping as ‘perhaps the most international of the world’s industries’, serving more than ninety per cent of the material goods of global trade.[2] Nevertheless, all key maritime regions globally have trade routes through which the economic trade of powerful manufacturing states pass. States such as Korea, Japan, China and the European Union (EU) have also sought to protect the commercial shipping by demanding that states provide security through whose territories those vessels make passage. In maritime regions that experience high rates of piracy at sea, the solution for more powerful states has been to pressure states to take action, or suggest the introduction of externally sourced policing into affected regions.
Piracy at Sea
Piracy at sea has been a major factor driving law enforcement at sea in Southeast Asia and therefore represents the region’s premier low-security maritime threat. States within Southeast Asia have similar maritime law enforcement needs as Caribbean states, despite facing different low-security threats. Consequently, states in both regions have tailored maritime law enforcement agreements to meet security cooperation and regime building shaped by context: a specific threat, environment and historical and political factors. Both have also been subject to the influence of external actors, in particular the United States. Within Southeast Asia, maritime security cooperation has been shaped by both the type of relations that states have had in the past, and also as a consequence of the terrorist attacks in the United States on 11 September 2001. Worsening lawlessness at sea in Southeast Asia following this event, indicate regions are not isolated from global influences. The legal basis for law enforcement at sea cooperation has been international law, regional agreements and consultation through regional forums. The exclusion of the most powerful state, the United States, from initial participation in this non-traditional maritime security cooperation, demonstrated that in the post-Cold War era, decision-making had shifted into the hands of individual states. In the post-Cold War era, states could choose with whom they collaborated on security matters, and in Southeast Asia, were able to make significant fundamental security decisions about regional security partners.

During the 1990s and following the 9/11 terrorist attacks, global events influenced the attitude of states along the Malacca and Singapore Straits regarding maritime security. Criminal activity at sea, particularly pirate attacks against ships began to challenge the type of cooperation that states were willing to undertake. Although piracy at sea has been a principal low threat security issue globally, incidents generally occurred in isolated areas, involved violence and weapons and consequently required an armed response from authorities. General James Hill, in a reference to illicit drugs trafficking and organised crime in the Caribbean and South America, depicts such low-security threats such as organic developments. Piracy at sea is described by Hill as ‘a weed that is planted, grown, and nurtured in the fertile ground of ungoverned spaces such as coastlines, rivers, and unpopulated border areas’.[3]

Endemic to various coastal regions for hundreds of years, an increase in pirate attacks on ships in Southeast Asia toward the late 1990s raised its profile significantly, prompting changes in the security relations between local and external states.[4] From a low of 60 attacks in 1990, increasing to more than 116 by 1995, the figure grew to 160 acts of piracy at sea by 1999.[5] In 2005, the waters around Southeast Asian accounted for one third of the total pirate attacks worldwide. In that year pirates fired weapons at 15 ships, boarded 149 vessels, took hostage 259 seafarers and assaulted 19. During that period, 12 crewmembers remained missing. In a 1998 report, anglers hauled up the bullet-ridden bodies of 23 Chinese crewmembers in fishing nets. From the missing bulk carrier ship MV Cheung Son, the men remained bound, gagged and weighted down. The pirates attacked the ship in late 1998 in the South China Sea with authorities never recovering the vessel. This attack illustrates the violent nature of this activity.[6] Pirate attacks at sea on shipping in the Malacca and Singapore Straits dropped markedly in the first half of 2006, while they increased globally.

Increases in piracy at sea in Southeast Asia occurred in the wake of international events, including the Asian economic crisis of 1997, and the war in Banda Aceh between Indonesian forces and insurgents. Piracy at sea and terrorism were linked only after the events of 9/11 took place, and the United States’ declared a ‘war on terror’. International resolutions created within the United Nations recognised an association of a non-political crime with political violence. The United Nations Security Council (UNSC) resolutions 1373 (2001) and 1456 (2003)[7] have, among other things, noted with concern the close connection between international terrorism and transnational organised crime, illicit drugs, money laundering and illegal arms trafficking. The resolutions emphasise the need to enhance coordination of efforts on national, sub regional, regional and international levels in order to strengthen a global response to these serious threats to international security.[8]

Although piracy at sea in the twenty-first century has occurred in both Southeast Asia and to a lesser extent, the Caribbean Sea, and more recently off the Horn of Africa, the different level of international response involving naval vessels from several states is often attributable to the situation on land. In the case of some Caribbean and Southeast Asian states, limited capacity limits the degree to which any one state can effectively conduct law enforcement at sea. Piracy at sea off the Horn of Africa in 2007-10, has demonstrated that failed, weak or non-functioning governments with limited capacity or authority provide prime environments in which piracy at sea can flourish. Virginia Lunsford lists five additional factors that encourage piracy at sea.

[A]n available population of potential recruits, a secure base of operations, a sophisticated organisation, some degree of outside support, and cultural bonds that engender vibrant group solidarity. Activities that interfere with the smooth workings of any of these factors weaken piracy’s sustainability.[9]

Therefore, the presence of criminal maritime activities has reflected the political strengths and weaknesses of states in each region in which it has occurred. Piracy at sea is generally unlikely to occur where states are stable, have a functioning judiciary system and possess a maritime capacity to enforce law at sea.

Responsibility for the Security of Vessels at Sea
There are differences between incidents in the Caribbean and those within Southeast Asia, affecting how law enforcement at sea operates, and the reason for states to cooperate. Incidents of piracy at sea have taken place both inside and outside state territorial seas. This has meant that legal jurisdiction and responsibility for security varies. According to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the sea (UNCLOS), to which states within Southeast Asia are party, the onus is on individual states to provide security at sea for all shipping that transited or made port within the territorial sea, even where an international strait exists. The state has jurisdiction within it territories but it is also responsible for security in international shipping lanes that pass through its territorial sea. An onus of responsibility for the security of vessels in transit is found in international law. The state’s own municipal law may also refer to the security of the territorial sea security of foreign vessels and crew. What made piracy at sea stand out as a significant maritime crime within the region, was that it affected commercial vessels in transit. Within the Caribbean, increased violence associated with narcotics trafficking on land directly challenged the authority of the state. In Southeast Asia, the blame for violent maritime criminal activity could be placed on the inability or unwillingness of regional states to meet their responsibilities to provide security for maritime vessels and crew that operated within their respective territorial seas, and therefore their respective areas of responsibility according to UNCLOS.[10]

Responses to Violence at Sea
Within Southeast Asia, the association of piracy at sea with violence required an armed response by marine authorities, in a similar way that narcotics smuggling by sea required and armed response from marine authorities. Violence has set piracy at sea apart from maritime safety issues such as navigation, search and rescue or pollution control. Southeast Asia has an historical connection with anti-piracy. Described as one of the world’s oldest international crimes, the international response to piracy at sea has developed alongside its regular recurrence.[11] Responses in the past originated in acts created by European and United States governments. An English Act of Henry VIII of 1516 extended the jurisdiction of the Crown to pirates. In 1615, British courts determined pirataesthostishumani generic––that pirates were the enemy of humanity. In 1822, a United States federal judge wrote that, no one ‘can doubt that vessels and property in the possession of pirates may be lawfully seized on the high seas by any persons, and brought in for adjudication’.[12] In the modern era, the only actors legally ostracised from the political and judicial shackles of the system of sovereign states are pirates and terrorists, legally deeming both as enemies of humankind.[13]

From a legal perspective, provisions within international conventions support anti-piracy measures taken by states. UNCLOS and the International Maritime Organisation (IMO) define the actions that a state may take in High Seas Convention, Article 15, and UNCLOS Article 101. Piracy takes place outside the jurisdiction of a state. An act of piracy taking place within the jurisdiction of a state, such as within the territorial sea, is ‘armed robbery’. Presumably, the municipal laws of a state determine the terminology of pirate activity occurring within the state. Under the High Seas Convention, Article 15, and UNCLOS Article 101, the following definition of piracy at sea (emphasis added) includes reference to the high seas:

(a) [A]ny illegal acts of violence or detention, or any act of depredation, committed for private ends by the crew or the passengers of a private ship or a private aircraft, and directed;

(i) [O]n the high seas, against another ship or aircraft, or against persons or

property on board such ship or aircraft;

(ii) [A]gainst a ship, aircraft, persons or property in a place outside the

jurisdiction of any State;

(b) [A]ny act of voluntary participation in the operation of a ship or of an aircraft with knowledge of facts making it a pirate ship or aircraft;

(c) [A]ny act of inciting or of intentionally facilitating an act described in subparagraph (a) or (b)[14]

On the other hand, ‘armed robbery’, that may also be an act of piracy, is defined under the IMO ‘Code of Practice for the Investigation of the Crimes of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships’,[15] and refers to incidents that take place within the jurisdiction of a state (emphasis added):

(1) [A]ny illegal act of violence or detention, or any act of depredation, committed for private ends and directed against a ship, or against persons or property on board such ship, in a place within a Contracting Party’s [state’s] jurisdiction over such offences;

(2) [A]ny act of voluntary participation in the operation of a ship with knowledge of facts making it a ship for armed robbery against ships;

(3) [A]ny act of inciting or of intentionally facilitating an act described in subparagraphs (1) or (2)[16]

Notwithstanding this definition of handing jurisdiction over to the municipal laws of states, not all Southeast Asian states include piracy at sea in their penal code. In May 2009, the head of Malaysia’s coast guard, the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency (MMEA), was concerned that his country, at that time, had no specific anti-piracy at sea laws to support improvements to maritime-patrolling. Laksamana Pertama Zulkifli Abu Bakar stated that, charging pirates was problematic, because the current Malaysian Penal Code at the time did not have jurisdiction over crimes that occurred beyond Malaysia’s territorial waters, such as within its EEZ or the Straits of Malacca. Zulkifli noted that Thailand and Sri Lanka did have anti-piracy at sea laws but Malaysia could only use inadequate municipal laws.[17]

Studies that focus on piracy at sea in Southeast Asia indicate that several issues complicate maritime law enforcement responses. The complexities of maritime law, territorial sovereignty and globalised trade all affect the way that marine authorities respond. Links between conflict and terrorism arose from an insurgency in Aceh province, Sumatra, Indonesia. Enforcement of law at sea suggests cross-border incursions by neighbouring states. Hull and cargo insurers in London associate risk with cost, driving premiums up and with it, complaints from shippers to governments of those states who bear responsibility for providing security at sea in adjacent international straits and seaways, such as the Straits of Malacca and Singapore.[18] Although UNCLOS does not specify the maritime law enforcement authorities (navy, coast guard or water police) that a state uses within its own territorial seas, it does offer some guidance as to limitations of authority of states in international waters (high seas). In both the 1958 High Seas Convention (Article 19, to which the United States is party) and UNCLOS Article 105, for seizure of suspected pirate vessels or aircraft outside the jurisdiction of any (maritime) coastal state:

[O]n the high seas, or in any other place outside the jurisdiction of any [s]tate, every [s]tate may seize a pirate ship or aircraft taken by piracy and under the control of pirates and arrest the persons and seize the property on board.[19]

Whilst providing scope for the pursuit of a vessel suspected of taking part in piracy at sea, Article 105 limits the pursuit by maritime law enforcement authorities to international waters, an area in which the naval forces also operate without restriction.

Whereas the IMO regularly issues circulars containing detailed reports of acts of piracy at sea, it has also issued two warnings that support and update UNCLOS anti-piracy at sea provisions. Firstly, a revised Maritime Safety Committee Circular (MSC/C) 622 (1999), ‘Recommendations to Governments for Preventing and Suppressing Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships’, refers to countermeasures available to security and rescue authorities. MSC/C 622 (1999) also includes a draft of the ‘Regional Agreement on Co-Operation in Preventing and Suppressing Acts of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships’ (ReCAAP).[20] Secondly, a revised MSC/C 623, ‘Guidance to Shipowners and Ship Operators, Shipmasters and Crews on Preventing and Suppressing Acts of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships’, advises on measures that may be taken with minimal danger to crews.[21]

Piracy at sea victimizes the crews of commercial and non-commercial vessels and their opinion is relevant to questions about security at sea. Captain Ivica Tijardovic states that in the past, the main physical threat to sailors were bar-fights, accidents onboard ship, or the sinking of vessels, but attacks in Southeast Asia and Somalia, where vessels were seized for plunder or ransom, have seen crews become unwilling incidental victims of pirates.[22] Captain Noor Apandi Osnin and Captain Choy Ngee Sheng state that the main concerns of crews are whether ship owners and authorities are prepared to invest in piracy-prevention measures, and the level of welfare for them and their immediate family if they became victims of pirates.[23] Arguably, it is less expensive for shipping companies to encourage law enforcement authorities to act than to continually pay to improve security aboard ship.[24] In practice, a mixture of both courses of action has occurred but alternatives, such as the use of embarked private security teams, have been controversial.

Maritime law enforcement authorities deploy naval forces because they have a capacity for operating at sea inside and to seaward of the territorial sea. UNCLOS does not limit the authority of states to do so but naval forces that enter another state’s territorial sea cannot conduct naval operations without permission, and risk starting a war if they do so. Additionally, whilst providing scope for the pursuit of a vessel suspected of taking part in maritime piracy at sea, Article 105 of UNCLOS limits the pursuit by maritime law enforcement authorities (as distinct from naval forces) to international waters, an area in which the naval forces might also operate under certain circumstances. Naval forces present a threat to the sovereignty of states, and foreign marine law enforcement authority represents a challenge to state authority. Law enforcement authorities prioritise prevention of crime, and investigation of incidents involving crime, to pursue and arrest those suspected of carrying out criminal acts. In both the 1958 High Seas Convention (Article 19), to which the United States is also party, and UNCLOS Article 105, some guidance is given concerning seizure of a suspected pirate vessel or aircraft outside the jurisdiction of any (maritime) coastal state.

Other Disputes and Claims

Another side to the question of intent and territorial sovereignty is that significant concerns have arisen when enforcing law at sea with respect to the ability of authorities to conduct ‘hot pursuits’ of suspect vessels. The issue of hot pursuit has been an important facet of maritime law enforcement agreements in both the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, and although guidance is provided in UNCLOS Article 111, it has had its criticism of being too inflexible.[25] Craig H. Allen argued in 1989 that UNCLOS was too restrictive and mechanical a doctrine and that the right of hot pursuit should be more adaptable and flexible to allow ‘innovative approaches to maritime law enforcement without compromising the right of legitimate vessels to navigate freely on the high seas’. Allen considered that changing technology and differences in technologies allowed increased and varied means to be used to track and pursue suspect vessels at sea. Rules for maritime law enforcement must also be flexible rather than fixed doctrine.[26]

Territorial limits are usually a result of negotiation or outcomes of tribunals or are allowable under UNCLOS but sovereignty is a sensitive issue and international law can only ever be a guide for the behaviour of states.[27] In the Caribbean, all states claim a twelve nautical mile territorial sea, and many claim contiguous and exclusive economic zones (EEZs), despite the small size of many of these islands and their proximity to neighbouring states.[28] Within Southeast Asia, Indonesia borders ten states, Malaysia borders five states and Singapore borders two states; Singapore claims twelve nautical miles for its territorial sea but due to its close proximity to its larger neighbours, does not claim a contiguous zone or an EEZ.[29] By comparison, Indonesia and Malaysia claim 12 nautical mile territorial seas, and although they do not claim contiguous zones, both
claim 200 nautical mile EEZs.[30] Additionally, Malaysia claims minerals Exploration Rights extending to 200 nautical miles.[31] These territorial claims have caused friction between neighbouring states. For instance, when Malaysia was in dispute with Indonesia regarding oil rights off the east coast of Sabah and Kalimantan in the Ambalat region during February 2005, both states relied on their own naval presence to back strong diplomatic overtures.[32] Although not coming to blows, the continual expansion of the island state of Singapore, through mining sand under lease agreements with Indonesia, has at times created friction with its neighbour. Therefore, while UNCLOS provides a legal regime, it does not prevent states from taking diplomatic, legal or military action, in order to protect national interests.

In the case of states with waterways in common, negotiation is constantly occurring, beyond the territorial sea, law enforcement is even less clear-cut and international law acts as a guide rather than doctrine. In Southeast Asia’s Malacca and Singapore Straits, a 2008 legal dispute over Pedra Branca lighthouse in the Singapore Straits was only resolved through taking the case to an international tribunal.[33] Jurisdiction of states is limited in the contiguous sea, and to the protection of resources in the EEZ, dependent on the capacity of states to project power to seaward. UNCLOS, Section 2, ‘Limits of Territorial Sea’, Article 15 illustrates that international law is open to negotiation and dispute, occasionally requiring clarification on the physical location of borders;

[w]here the coasts of two [s]tates are opposite or adjacent to each other, neither of the two States is entitled ... to extend its territorial sea beyond the median line every point of that is equidistant from the nearest points on the baselines from that the breadth of the territorial seas of each of the two [s]tates is measured.[34]

Although the Malacca and Singapore Straits are subject to the laws and regulations of international law incorporated within UNCLOS, the security of vessels within the territorial seas of states have largely been the responsibility the states themselves. The territorial sea is not in itself a barrier to vessels transiting even extensive archipelagic regions such as the Caribbean Sea and the Straits of Malacca and Singapore, or warships and other authorities transiting EEZs. The United States Department of Defense refers to the territorial sea and sea-lanes of archipelagos, granting states sovereign jurisdiction subject to ‘the right of innocent passage’ through ‘international straits’ which comprise the sea lanes that continue through territorial seas or archipelagos.[35]
Linking Terrorism with Piracy

Other challenges to states in Southeast Asia arose from the events of 9/11, linking existing crime at sea with United States’ ‘war on terror’. Attracting international attention, regional states already supported existing legal conventions, such as the Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation, 1988 (SUA). An incident that made a connection between piracy at sea and terrorism resulted in changes to international maritime law in 1985. During that year, Palestinian Liberation Front members hijacked the passenger vessel Achille Lauro. Consequently, 400 passengers and crew were threatened and a wheelchair-bound man killed and dumped overboard. Although demanding that Israel release 50 Palestinian prisoners, after a cat-and-mouse pursuit, authorities from Italy and the United States eventually arrested the hijackers. Interestingly, arrest warrants issued in Washington DC were for the crimes of hostage-taking, piracy at sea and conspiracy, highlighting the omission of terrorism as a crime within the United States at that time. This was similar to the situation in Malaysia regarding piracy more than two decades later, where municipal laws had not caught up with international convention. Terrorism was not new but the hijack of a ship at sea was, in the mid-1980s, a conspiracy to commit piracy at sea.[36] From this incident, the SUA was created, which specifically linked acts of violence against ships with terrorism and acts of piracy at sea, paving the way for terrorism to be recognised in international (and also municipal) law.[37]

Terrorism has characteristically been an assumption of violent political threat behaviour, whereas piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea presents a threat of violent crime. Nevertheless, through the inclusion of piracy at sea into the United States-led widening and redefinition of the security lexicon, piracy at sea had also become a threat against the state, influencing the way that states within Southeast Asia chose to cooperate with each other and with external states. Graham Gerard Ong argues that overlapping characteristics accompany crime at sea. Ong refers to the presence of violence, use of the peculiarities of the sea environment, and the impact and legal status of each.[38] Brian Fort, points out that piracy at sea and terrorism are also major areas of criminal investigation, and that money is often at the heart of both.[39] However, Ong makes a basic observation that pirates differ to terrorists because one is interested in sustained trade while the other often pursues a ‘pyrrhic victory'.[40]

As a more recent, regional maritime threat that arose after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, there are few documented maritime-related terrorist incidents to support the attention it receives. Terrorism associated maritime criminal activities, including piracy at sea, smuggling and human trafficking with violence against the states. Although contentious, conflation of piracy and terrorism was probable after several attacks against vessels took place.[41] Together with the American war on terror, escalating tensions in the Middle East and Southeast Asia, when military force in Afghanistan and Iraq gave the appearance of a war on Islam the probability of terrorists using pirate tactics could not be ruled out. Associating piracy at sea with terrorism presumed that a military response was as appropriate as law enforcement, policing operations. Informed by incidents of piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea within Southeast Asia, certain media assisted the perception of a conflation of terrorism and piracy by speculating that pirates could assist in mounting a major terrorist attack on the scale of the ‘apocalyptic’ 9/11 terrorist attacks. In this scenario, pirates would employ non-military transport, tugboats and fuel barges. With a pirate’s knowledge of the sea to steal a ship carrying a volatile cargo, terrorists might target a port area in which to set off an explosion.[42] Consequently, from incidents such as the following example from March 2003, terrorism and piracy at sea became a single threat, despite a largely speculative foundation. In 2003, intruders boarded a chemical tanker, the 3,900 gross tonne Indonesian-registered MV Dewi Madrim off the coast of Sumatra. For one hour, the pirates took control of the vessel and used its bridge navigation equipment, before kidnapping the master (captain) and first officer and departing the ship. It was an unusual incident due to the intruder’s apparent seamanship. It was an odd conclusion since pirates are often fisher folk, and therefore familiar with operating vessels at sea.[43]

Without a clear political motive attached to such pirate attacks, the conflation theory did not attract regional consensus. Noel Choong, who was involved in a daily catalogue of piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea on shipping, rejected the conflation concept. In an interview with the Taipei Times in July 2005, Choong, head of the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre, denied seeing any evidence that would link pirates and terrorists, or that they were planning attacks on ships.[44] Joshua Ho argues the distinction that financial gain motivates pirates, whereas those using terrorism are religiously motivated to seek redress for perceived injustices, measuring success by their ability to affect political change.[45] An example of an incident that did suggest terrorism occurred in June 2008. It is an incident drawing a fine line between incident, assumption and misinterpretation in a period of heightened alert. On that occasion, an Indonesian naval patrol boat intercepted a wooden vessel, headed for West Sulawesi off the coast of East Java, carrying a five tonne cargo of an oxidising substance. Because of the nature of the cargo, a very large amount of material, it aroused the suspicion of an Indonesian navy officer. Although earmarked to make explosives for the common regional practice of killing fish, and despite his suspicions, the naval officer allowed the vessel to proceed.[46]

Although piracy at sea often involved violence and terrified crews, the attacks in Southeast Asia did not appear to be politically motivated. Nor was it linked to the type of terrorism against which the United States had declared war. Consequently, although the United States-led ‘war on terror’ after 9/11’ heightened the expected level of alertness of regional policing authorities, it also challenged Southeast Asian actor’s perceptions of piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea as a threat. Piracy at sea had previously been considered simply violent armed robbery at sea, regardless of motive, and had not been considered a political crime prior to the 9/11 terrorist attacks; consequently, it had been treated as a low priority issue. ‘War on terror’ became a contentious issue for Indonesia and Malaysia because it reinforced anti-Islamic attitudes by associating ‘Islam’ with ‘terrorism’ in western rhetoric and media. As the formerly non-political crime of piracy became associated, through various media, with terrorism, it was politicised. Since Indonesia had been moving toward liberal reform at a cost to successive governments, increasingly influenced by public opinion, sensitivity to an association of organised, illegal activities with Islam did not help support any proposed security proposals by the United States. For predominantly Muslim populated Indonesia and Malaysia, religion had already been a divisive issue domestically. Internal security since the late 1990s had been part of the carefully cultured political projection of Southeast Asian stability prior to the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the subsequent global pursuit of terrorism. After the 9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001, it became difficult for Malaysia and Indonesia to ignore the external and internal political pressure of the United States anti-terrorism war. It was not the only reason for rejecting a security proposal by the United States but a significant issue that Southeast Asian states had to consider.

Singapore, on the other hand, actively pursued anti-terrorism measures in response to the war on terrorism. The Singaporean government prioritised economic stability, taking a proactive approach to maritime security and anti-terrorism, and maintaining good relations with the United States. The issue of Islam was not a major concern amongst its largely Christian and Buddhist citizens and relatively small population of Muslim citizens. Terrorism, when associated with piracy at sea, had the potential to threaten Singapore’s capacity as a major secure transhipment and oil processing port requiring stability of maritime trade. In 2004, Singapore officially agreed to the Rome Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation (SUA) – it was during a period of heightened threat of conflated terrorism and piracy within Southeast Asia, and increasingly reported pirate attacks at sea.

Therefore, largely due to the reactions of the United States government in the wake of 9/11, a political threat had been linked to a non-political crime in Southeast Asia. Conflating maritime terrorism and piracy at sea had changed the principles, norms and rules of security behaviour of Southeast Asia’s states. This was similar to the way that politicisation of narcotics smuggling by the United States, a law enforcement issue that was also linked to terrorism after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, had caused change within the Caribbean. Governments of states in neither region had been able to ignore maritime criminal activities that deemed to have political ramifications.

5.3 Geography, Economics and Security at Sea

The Challenge of Geography

In part, the scale of Southeast Asia’s geography amplifies the limited capacity of states to respond to low-security, maritime threats. Because of its significance as a trading region, maritime criminal activities, especially piracy at sea, threaten the safe passage of commercial vessels through Southeast Asia. Bearing some similarities to the Caribbean, Southeast Asia comprises vast maritime expanses with dispersed territories and isolated tracts that favour criminal activity; multiple jurisdictions also complicate law enforcement operations at sea. Although the Malacca and Singapore Straits together comprise a maritime area extending for more than 500 nautical miles from the eastern Indian Ocean region into the South China Sea and Indonesian archipelago, it also cuts through the heart of Southeast Asia. Both the Malacca and the Singapore Straits contain major international shipping transit lanes through which external and local shipping companies transport bulk raw natural products to manufacturers, and manufactured goods to places of consumption. Between 25 and 30 percent of world trade and 50 percent of global energy cargoes transit the Malacca and Singapore Straits each year.[47] Up to 200 vessels above 300 gross tonnes transit in any 24-hour period. Approximately 400 shipping companies and 700 ports worldwide rely on trade transiting or making port within the region. In an industry where goods are expected to be delivered ‘just-in-time’ for manufacturers and markets, the Malacca and Singapore Straits have allowed ships significant reductions in the time spent en route, reducing daily operating costs. It is 994 nautical miles and several days travelling time, less than alternative shipping transit routes south of Sumatra, through the more southerly Sunda or Lombok Straits; consequently the shorter passage mitigates any risk of piracy at sea.

Illustrating the sheer volume of shipping traffic through Southeast Asia, 2007 figures from Malaysia’s Marine Department (MMD) help also to shed light on the significance of maritime trade for regional economies. The MMD gives regular statistics of ships over 300 gross tonnes[48] in transit as part of the IMO Mandatory Ship Reporting System (STRAITREP).[49] The sum total of vessels transiting through the Malacca and Singapore Straits indicate a trend of steadily increasing maritime traffic; 43,964 in 1999; 55,955 in 2000; 59,314 in 2001; 62,393 in 2002; 62,334 in 2003 and 63,636 in 2004. During 2005, 62,621 ships reported transiting the straits.[50]

Since the international shipping route through the Malacca and Singapore Straits allows the shortest, and therefore most economical shipping routes, the high volume of shipping traffic enticed local gangs to take up piracy at sea. Southeast Asian pirates and Caribbean drugs smugglers, not unlike criminals everywhere, rely on the lack of ubiquitous law enforcement in the vastness of their respective regional seas; both use the geography to their advantage. International shipping lanes pass adjacent to the Malaysian coastline and the coastal mud flats of the Indonesian island of Sumatra - the ships are clearly visible and easily accessible using relatively small craft from shore. Many islands provide cover for hit and run pirate attacks, dotting the waters from Karin Kecil Island at the southern ‘dogleg’, where much of the Malacca Straits shipping swings left to enter the Singapore Straits, out to the Anambas Islands in the southern South China Sea, where pirate attacks were continuing to occur throughout 2004-09. Located at the southern end of the Straits of Malacca, the Singapore Straits is a smaller passage of water that lies between the island state of Singapore and the western reaches of the Indonesian archipelago.[51] The Riau Archipelago and much of the northeastern coast of Sumatra consist of numerous islands, inlets, shallow bays and mud flats.[52] This littoral environment provides cover and sanctuary, the passing parade of commercial vessels provide motive for piracy at sea and armed robbery. Consequently, maritime security in the straits region has been of significant interest to both the states that border the straits, and to those external states that depend on the shipping for their own economic security.

Unlike the Caribbean, which contains many small and medium states, Southeast Asia consists of 10 principal states. Only three states, Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia, have direct responsibility for law enforcement within the international shipping transit lanes the Malacca and Singapore Straits, while three others, Thailand, Brunei and the Philippines, have an interest in regional maritime security. Singapore claims only a three nautical mile territorial sea, rather than the 12 nautical miles of the other states, but benefits from providing port facilities for commercial shipping that uses this sea-route.[53] Singapore’s port complex alone handled 1.3 billion tons of shipping in 2006, making it one of the busiest in the world. Singapore is therefore a regional actor with considerable interest in regional maritime security.[54] Port security is the province of municipal police, whereas law enforcement at sea is the responsibility of all states that are signatory to UNCLOS.

The victims of piracy at sea include the crews of commercial and non-commercial vessels. A first-hand account and subsequent personal investigation into armed attacks against ships and their crews by John S. Burnett, certainly highlights the terror of violence on crews during piracy at sea.[55] This contrasts with the past, when the main physical threat to sailors was bar-fights, accidents onboard ship, or the sinking of vessels. In Southeast Asia and Somalia, pirate attacks saw vessels seized for plunder or ransom, and crews become unwilling, incidental victims of sea crimes.[56] Consequently, a survey by Captain Noor Apandi Osnin and Captain Choy Ngee Sheng noted that crews were more focussed piracy prevention measures when at sea.[57]

A regular incidence of maritime piracy at sea and armed robbery against ships at sea had multiplied worldwide prior to the end of the Cold War, and continued to increase afterwards. Between 1984 and November 1999, 1,587 pirate attacks were reported worldwide with vessels within Southeast Asia and the South China Sea increasingly being targeted. Incidents of piracy at sea increased after the 1997 economic crisis in Southeast Asia. In a 1999 report published by the United States Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) placed some of the blame for piracy at sea within Southeast Asia on a lack of government attention. Southeast Asia’s typical targets of piracy at sea were merchant ships and fishing boats. Pirate attacks were attributable to organised and common crime, as well as a poor government attitude toward security.[58] Indonesia was hardest hit by the Asian economic downturn and internal political struggles from 1998 and it was within this state that piracy at sea found a homeport. Pirate attacks in international waters worldwide in 2001 were most prolific in Southeast Asia and the Indian Ocean. By 2002, attacks within the Malacca and Singapore Straits became endemic to the region. Various causes for pirate attacks included links to organised crime, angry fishermen, Aceh insurgents and other militants. Socio-economic sources included poverty, inequality and regional instability.[59]

Economics and Security at Sea
Income disparity between comparatively wealthy Malaysians and Indonesians, together with reported links between pirates and organised crime on the Indonesian side of the straits resulted in a steady increase of pirate attacks on ships, peaking in 2003/04. Although many coastal villagers relied on fishing as a primary source of income, opportunity and necessity made piracy at sea attractive, despite its risks. During a visit to Kampusg Tanjusg in Indonesia’s Riau Province, six kilometres south of Singapore, Eric Frecon observed taxi-boat drivers idling the day away; they were reluctant to talk about their night-trade as pirates. Local pirate families and gangs ruled the area, according to Frecon, teaching new recruits how to plunder local shipping. Local police would turn a blind eye, preferring to wear sarongs and visit prostitutes on nearby Pulua Babi [Pig Island].[60] Piracy at sea connects to fishing in several ways; fishing vessels used to fish illegally are vulnerable to attack from pirates. Additionally, fishers using knowledge of the sea carry out acts of piracy at sea. If pirates hijack a fishing vessel as a platform from which to launch further pirate attacks, authorities may not be aware of the theft and illegal use for some days or weeks, if at all, because owners do not want to contact authorities and alert them to their initial illegal fishing activities.[61]

5.4 The Beginnings of Security Cooperation at Sea

External Influences

In the Caribbean, narcotics smuggling had increased crime ashore, thereby putting pressure on states to engage in bilateral maritime law enforcement cooperation with the United States. Commercial actors external to Southeast Asia, on the other hand, had a stake in the risk to commercial shipping, so were able to shape perceptions and events in the region, and influence the behaviour of Southeast Asian states toward eventual security cooperation. Piracy at sea in the Malacca and Singapore Straits before 2005 had increased the risk to external actors (user states) who utilised the Southeast Asian straits for commercial shipping or naval strategic access. Consequently, a major marine insurance advisory body, Lloyd’s Market Association Joint War Committee, sought to raise the security threat level through its regular advisories. Unlike the initiatives taken by the United States and Caribbean states, that sought to shift the consequences and risks of narcotics smuggling onto the traffickers, risk assessments made in faraway London by Lloyd’s Market Association Joint War Committee led shipping insurance companies to place the burden of risk onto ship owners. Continuing to make passage through the Malacca and Singapore Straits, ship owners faced increased costs. External actors sought to protect the interests of commercial shipping that passed through Southeast Asia by issuing warnings but inevitably, it gave shipping underwriters a reason to raise premiums.

Lloyd’s of London did not advocate force, such as the arming of commercial ships, due to the complexities of getting flag-state approval and other legalities but it did issue industry security alerts. With a long history of involvement in global shipping, London-based Lloyd’s Market Association has had considerable influence with maritime insurers through the advice it has provided its customers. When Lloyd’s of London (Lloyd’s) has deemed a region to present a high risk for shipping, insurers have had cause to add surcharges on vessels operating within the area. Announcement of the new risk category for the Malacca and Singapore Straits by the Joint War Committee occurred on 20 June 2005, following advice from a European based security-consulting firm, Aegis. On this advice, Lloyd’s declared that the Malacca and Singapore Straits had become one of several areas at ‘enhanced risk’ of ‘war, strikes, terrorism and related perils’.[62] It was a situation reminiscent of a similar assessment following a terrorist attack on the French tanker, MV Limburg at a port in Yemen in 2002; that had led to a tripling of insurance premiums on tanker vessels bound for Yemen. To retain insurance coverage, general-cargo ship owners had been required to pay a war-risk surcharge, at an average cost of US$150,000 for each vessel entering Yemen’s ports. This had translated into US$450,000 per voyage, up from US$150,000 for super tankers carrying typically two million barrels of oil. Consequently, the risk assessment had indirectly added about 15 cents per barrel to the delivered cost of the oil, leading to Thai, Taiwanese, Korean, and Singaporean ships thereafter avoiding Yemen territorial waters.[63]

An indirect consequence for states was that this action had the potential to make shipping firms consider avoiding the region where possible. In the case of Lloyd’s risk assessment, the average cost to shipping companies whose ships used the Malacca and Singapore Straits was an estimated increase of approximately 4,000 Euros per vessel per passage. John Burnett has estimated that normal daily operating costs of cargo vessels in 2001/02 was US$20,000 to US$80,000, so any increase was unwelcome.[64] Lloyd’s risk assessment consequently put pressure on shipping companies to divert to the longer route south of Sumatra and through the Sunda Strait, adding three days and increasing operating costs. Diversions by ships also had potential to affect the economic viability of ports within the Malacca and Singapore Straits who relied on servicing the shipping trade.

Whereas Caribbean discussions on the problem of narcotics smuggling in the early 1990s was largely initiated by the United States, as it sought to counter-narcotics trafficking and domestic illicit drug use, in the case of Southeast Asia it was the states that began formal dialogue on the question of regional maritime security, as a response to external risk perceptions. Lloyd’s risk assessment inferred that some states were not fulfilling their responsibility of providing security for maritime users within the international straits that pass within their territorial seas. These perceptions about the paucity of security in maritime Southeast Asia prompted government-level discussions about security within the straits. Malaysian Deputy Prime Minister Yab Dato Sri Najib Razak; warned that it was crucial that all actors accepted that states would have to be the drivers of security within the region, so that primary responsibility for implementing the way mechanisms that targeted a strengthening of the security in the Malacca and Singapore straits.[65] In August 2005, foreign ministers from Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia met to discuss the question of maritime safety and security in the Malacca and Singapore Straits. Representatives of the states agreed that Lloyd’s risk assessment did not take into account the impact of Malacca Straits Sea Patrols (MSSPs). Reports only indicated two cases of piracy at sea in the Malacca and Singapore Straits in the third quarter of 2005, compared with eight between January and June.

By the end of 2005, Singaporean shipping companies and neighbouring states were questioning Lloyd’s risk assessment.[66] Coming from an influential international organisation, commentators deemed the assessment bad for business.[67] Razak pointed out the improving anti-piracy at sea situation, indicated by the basic statistics; one case of piracy at sea in the second half of 2005 compared to 18 in same period 2004, and 12 cases in the Malacca and Singapore Straits in 2005 compared to 38 in 2004. Razak argued that this was a vindication of security criticisms of the past, calling for need of a revision of Lloyd’s risk assessment.[68]

Nevertheless, regional commanders and foreign insurers did not always follow the downward trend in their analysis. In 2004, Former Republic of the Philippines Assistant Secretary of Defense, Alejandro P. Melchor stated that piracy at sea, maritime terrorism, transnational criminal trafficking operations, refugees and illegal migration, as well as protecting energy routes comprised the primary maritime security challenges for Southeast Asia.[69] Additionally, private estimates of about the risks of piracy at sea in the Malacca and Singapore Straits, including Lloyd’s risk assessment and other assessments, meant that the security situation was at times unclear. In the Caribbean, the question of whether maritime law enforcement was meeting success or otherwise was able to be made from the frequency of successful drug interdictions at sea, the USCG regularly publishing its own compiled figures.[70] A shipping industry assessment in July 2000 suggested that security was improving in the straits.[71] Despite a reduction in the frequency of pirate attacks in the first half of 2006, and calls to drop the Malacca and Singapore Straits region from its list of enhanced-risk areas, Lloyd’s was nevertheless reluctant to immediately down-grade its risk assessment.

Regardless of improved security coordination of states through the MSSPs after 2004 and the pending launch of a Malaysian coast guard, a perception persisted that the states of Southeast Asia were not doing enough to improve maritime security.[72] Rear Admiral Danyal Belagopal Abdullah of the Malaysian Navy disputed Lloyd’s action, as it linked terrorism to piracy at sea and prioritized external interests. In Abdullah’s opinion, there were cases of robbery in the straits but it was an issue separate from terrorism. He stated that the Malacca Straits was ‘one of the most peaceful routes in the world and any talks of terrorist threats here reflect the vested interests of selected parties ... [w]e have yet to see any proof to the allegations that the [s]traits is a risky place’.[73] Because they believe they have a stake in its security, other near neighbours also viewed the straits a significant maritime region. Maritime Southeast Asia extends to the Indian Ocean and South China Sea, therefore this region is of interest to other Asian states on its periphery. These include India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka in the Indian Ocean, and China, Vietnam and the Philippines in the South China Sea. The Malacca and Singapore Straits have provided access for commercial and military vessels and therefore the security of the straits benefits a wide range of regional and extra-regional trading and strategic interests. Although the December 2004 tsunami revealed a degree of reluctance by Indonesia to allow external states to operate naval forces within territorial waters, even in an emergency, it did highlight that international assistance can be benign. Tsunami aid operations supported the overall security of Indonesia in a time of need. However, with less attacks reported after 2004, Indonesia and Malaysia required reassurance that external states who had offered help during the emergency, were still acting in the interests of the states once the crisis had diminished. Hugo Grotius referred to Plutarch’s warning, after all, that the civilizing of barbarians may in fact be a pretext for aggression.[74]

That neither Indonesia nor Malaysia immediately sought to participate in later multi-state arrangements such as ReCAAP suggested that they remained wary of extending security cooperation to include external states whose interest in ReCAAP was due to the pursuit of their own agendas.[75] While maritime security cooperation between Southeast Asian states has at times been patchy, this has been at least partly due to a realist view that external actors will always prioritise their own interests. Aside from the ongoing disputes over resources within the South China Sea between China, Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia, a reason for East Asian actors seeking to influence maritime security within the Malacca and Singapore Straits has been concern for unfettered supply lines of raw materials such as energy products from the Middle East. This is similar to the way that Caribbean states have seen the United States prioritise its own strategic interests in the region and determine foreign policy according to its own needs. External actors that have had a significant interest, and sought to influence security within the Malacca and Singapore Straits for economic reasons have included Northeast Asian Industrial states, Japan and China.

In the case of Japan, supply lines have been crucial for economic survival of the state due to it possessing few domestic natural resources, and a resource-hungry, industrial manufacturing oriented economy. John M. Collins argues that historically, since early in the twentieth century, Japan has demonstrated to the point of aggression that it cannot allow threats to its raw materials imports.[76] Consequently, Japan has sought to increase indirectly the capacity of weaker states, such as Indonesia, in order to protect its own product vessels from pirates. For Japan, a watershed incident occurred in October 1999 when pirates boarded the Japanese cargo ship, Alondra Rainbow; the vessel went missing for a short time. The incident prompted the government of Japan to take measures to prevent pirate attacks at sea.[77] On average, an estimated 80 to 90 percent of Japan’s crude oil imports (50 percent of its total energy imports) have regularly passed through the Malacca and Singapore Straits onboard ships.[78] By nationality of ship owners, Japanese ships regularly used the straits, accounting for twenty percent of all vessels, more than any other state. Japan’s vulnerability had been that raw material imports predominantly transported by sea over long supply lines regularly transited the Malacca and Singapore Straits. At the 2007, ASEAN Summit, Japan’s Department of Foreign Affairs Secretary Alberto Romulo referred to arrangements between ASEAN and Japan that sought to expand counter-terrorism and maritime security. The archipelagos, straits and sea-lanes pose a potential security hazard to Japan’s national interests.[79] As mentioned previously, Japan donated three patrol boats to Indonesia in order to help fight terrorism and piracy at sea. This was a significant move, seen as breaking Japan’s long-standing ban against exporting weapons.[80]

Significantly, ships carry at least 75 percent of oil imported by Northeast Asian states via the Malacca and Singapore Straits’ route. Therefore, a threat to this supply of energy, either real or perceived, draws the attention of industrial, resource-dependant states such as China, Japan and South Korea.[81] Jean-Paul Rodrigue describes the Malacca and Singapore Straits as a strategically ‘invisible’ commodity.[82] China, for instance, has planned significant, yearly increases to its energy needs in the long term.[83] Consequently, China’s President Hu Jiantao has referred to the security problems in the Malacca and Singapore Straits as the ‘Malacca-dilemma’, whereby the cost of inaction on security is of necessity weighed against China’s growing energy security needs.[84] China’s former paramount leader, Deng Xiaoping referred to basic guiding-principles for China’s foreign relations; to ‘[o]bserve calmly, secure our position; cope with affairs calmly; hide our capacities and bide our time; be good at maintaining a low profile; and never claim leadership’.[85] However, a report to the United States Congress positions China as expanding its presence through the Straits of Malacca and into the Indian Ocean, through military expansion. Evidence that China was interested in the regional security, is that in 2005 its naval vessels visited Pakistan. It was significant as the first combined naval manoeuvres with a state where the Straits of Malacca played an access role for China’s naval forces.[86] China later participated in efforts to counter piracy off the Horn of Africa.

India is also an interested stakeholder in the maritime security of Southeast Asia, although its interests are less clear. An Indonesia-India bilateral defence agreement, ‘Bilateral Agreement on Cooperative Activities in the Field of Defence, was signed 11 January 2001 and with operations commencing in 2002, it sought to facilitate coordinated patrols and confidence building in the Andaman Sea. India promoted the agreement as a response to Tamil Tiger rebels from Sri Lanka expanding operations to the Andaman Islands and on to Indonesia. Indonesia’s Rear Marshal Sagom Tamboen believed in a wider purpose for the joint patrols, claiming it suited the interests of both countries by dealing with pirate attacks, smuggling, territorial transgression and inter-state crime in the Andaman Sea. Significantly, the bilateral India-Indonesia defence agreement allowed several years of bi-annual interaction, exercises and information exchanges, and ship visits. Eventually in 2006, ratification of the agreement by Indonesia formalised the agreement so that it became a regular exchange of bilateral military activities.[87]

Regional Interdependency

A fundamental regional interdependence between states in Southeast Asia bears similarities to the Caribbean. Caribbean states have used the forums provided by The Caribbean Community (CARICOM) and the Association of Caribbean States (ACS). CARICOM bears similarities of consensus and non-interference that are at the core of Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) principles. Within Southeast Asia, security issues either retard or support security cooperation but regional forums, such as ASEAN and ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF) can still facilitate dialogue between states and external actors. With the creation of ASEAN on 8 August 1967, a multilateral group of states regularly met to discuss regional issues. As in the Caribbean, disparate groups of developing states located on disconnected landmasses and islands comprise the bulk of Southeast Asia.[88] As with CARICOM and ACS forums, ASEAN’s style of resolution through regular meetings built consensus between the states on economic and safety matters, and allowed dialogue on security issues. ASEAN began with 10 dialogue partner states whose territories comprised a regional area of some four point five million square kilometres, 14 official languages and seven religions. The ASEAN Bangkok declarations in 1967 sought to respect national sovereignty and renounced use of force, and were sentiments that incorporated, at least in spirit, a community approach to regional issues. Holding an inaugural meeting in 1994, membership of the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF), led to widened membership from the ten core ASEAN member states. New ARF members include Asia-Pacific states Australia, Brunei Darussalam, Cambodia, Canada, China, the European Union, India, Indonesia, Japan, South Korea, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, Mongolia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Philippines, Russian Federation, Singapore, Thailand, Timor Leste, United States and Vietnam. Managing conflict through dialogue, confidence building and preventative diplomacy have been at the core of the ARF whose forum has a managerial mission to prevent regional conflict and resolution of intra-regional differences.[89] In this way, the ARF facilitated discussion beyond a purely economic forum but within a framework with a regional focus.

The ARF proposed conflict resolution as a means to institutionalise Southeast Asia’s premise of non-interference in the political affairs of member states. Disputed ownership of mineral rights, illegal immigration, trans-border smoke haze issues and smuggling have been ongoing issues that have strained security cooperation between certain ASEAN states. Disputes that centred on the South China Sea, strained relations between states of Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei, the Philippines, Vietnam and external states China and Taiwan; each has overlapping or conflicting territorial claims.[90] The security aims of the ASEAN Regional Forum are to balance national agendas, sovereignty concerns and border issues with a need for an outward projection of regional harmony and cooperation as promoted in the ASEAN Vision 2020 security statement. This statement proposed that by the year 2020, conflict within the region, such as disputes between Malaysia and Singapore over Batu Putih and Middle Rocks area,[91] or between Indonesia and Malaysia over Celebes Sea incursions, might be eliminated, through respect for justice and the rule of law, and ‘regional resilience’.[92]

Regional interdependency has required more than diplomacy and trade dependency. Regional security inter-dependency supports state independence but cooperation has been a fragile and tentative endeavour, with regional altercations often testing relations between states. Connected to a common security environment, Southeast Asian states share borders, proximity of territorial seas to international trade routes and inter-regional maritime trade dependency. Vice Admiral Mayuga, a Flag Officer[93] of the Philippine Navy stated his belief that since the creation of the states of Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines, naval forces of the three countries constantly guarantee travel and trade in border regions.[94] This is important because maritime choke points such as the Malacca and Singapore Straits are natural resources with finite or ‘absolute’ capacities, vulnerable to disputes and requiring active diplomatic and legal protection.[95] Consequently, disputes within the region over overlapping resource claims, have occasionally progressed beyond diplomacy. In 2005, Malaysia was in dispute with Indonesia over ownership of Sipadan and Ligitan Islands, oil mining rights off the east coast of Sabah (Malaysia) and Kalimantan (Indonesia) in the Ambalat region. In early 2007, accusations flew that Malaysia allowed border incursions into Indonesia’s territorial sea. Singapore and Malaysia disputed ownership of Palua Batu Puteh/Pedra Branca Island in the Singapore Straits. Other disputes included a Malaysia - Indonesia dispute over the Sipada-Litigan Islands in the Sulawesi Sea (Sabah-Kalimantan border), the Thai and Malaysia common-border dispute, and the Malaysia and Brunei dispute regarding Limbang.[96] On each occasion, the states involved deployed, or threatened to deploy naval forces to reinforce diplomatic overtures, testing resolution mechanisms.

These events suggest parallels to states along the Straits of Malacca in the past. Facing similar maritime security problems of sovereignty, territory, resources and piracy, nineteenth-century Netherlands (Holland) and England had to protect their colonial islands within what is now Southeast Asia and the Caribbean. Shipping remains the most cost-effective means of bulk transport, so that a small to medium sized state such as Singapore or Panama, that possess few substantial natural resources but are strategically located, must rely on passing ocean trade. Panama has the Panama Canal; Singapore has the Malacca and Singapore straits. Singapore Defence Minister Teo Chee Hean has underlined the strategic importance to Singapore of the transport by sea of oil, food, resources and finished goods.[97] Because Singapore has been able to capitalising on its strategic position by transhipping goods from ships to other smaller vessels or land transport methods, and also making refining of oil products a significant part of its economy, this small island state has needed to develop a competent navy and water police. Greater maritime involvement for states has required that they have an adequate capacity to enforce law in their respective maritime zones. For Singapore, not unlike the situation for Panama, maritime criminal activities led to the state becoming a vocal supporter of regional maritime security measures that protected national maritime interests. For states, whose national interests depended less on maritime trade, and who possessed considerable natural resources, such as Indonesia, maritime security was a lower security priority.

Naval Security Cooperation Regular naval exercises within Southeast Asia have sometimes included maritime law enforcement but more significantly, they benefit improved maritime security cooperation and confidence building between Southeast Asian states through military-to-military coordination. Significantly, the United States has often been a participant in these exercises at a navy-to-navy level. During the 1990s and into the twenty-first century, naval defence exercises held at sea between regional and external naval forces only occasionally included maritime law enforcement. Operations Stardex and Flying Fish, Cooperation against Terrorism (SEACAT) and Cooperation Afloat Readiness and Training (CARAT) involved regional naval forces and other marine authorities in bilateral or trilateral training exercises with the United States Navy and the United States Coast Guard (USCG). In addition, Malaysian coastguard (Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency, MMEA) members were given instruction by the USCG on boarding techniques during CARAT exercises.[98] This consisted of regional participants conducting naval exercises off Singapore in the South China Sea; the naval forces of Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore and Thailand attended. Such exercises included information sharing, multinational coordination and maritime interdiction. Joint regional exercises, such as those between the US and the Philippines Military forces BALIKATAN, included maritime law enforcement components so that participating and observing regional states could see how other agencies operate in a maritime crisis.[99]

Joint naval exercises that included Southeast Asian states and the United States, did initiate a degree of security coordination with an established maritime law enforcement authority when the USCG was also present.[100] Unlike its role within the Caribbean, USCG involvement with Southeast Asia has been a confidence building measure, instilling the concept of operational law enforcement, and maritime safety as separate to a purely strategic function of deterrence that naval forces imply. As maritime law enforcement within Southeast Asia had been associated with military operations, naval exercises that did include the USCG allowed states to observe the organisation’s long established maritime law enforcement techniques. Regional exercises included the Indonesian-United States Navy, Naval Engagement Activities 2007 (NEA) set to be held every two years, comprising sea-law, law of armed conflicts, joint operations at sea, piracy at sea, engagement rules and interdiction of vessels at sea.[101] Naval involvement in law enforcement in Southeast Asia has been beneficial because few states in the region have had the capacity to stand up, operate and pay for both naval and coast guard forces. Consequently, and perhaps ironically, naval forces in Southeast Asia have generally functioned more like the USCG than the United States Navy, leaving the question of why maritime law enforcement has been so problematic.[102] Naval forces have historically been slow to appreciate that anti-piracy-at-sea campaigns were similar to counter-insurgency operations, and this may account for a poorly defined role for regional marine authorities.

Low-End Cooperation and Information Sharing

Piracy at sea reporting became a public means to increase information awareness between various actors within Southeast Asia and externally. It also supported states through building confidence and by illustrating the usefulness of improved situational awareness. Piracy at sea reporting developed at regional or sub-regional levels, for both commercial and government customers. Although there have not been comparable facilities to report on narcotics smuggling within the Caribbean, Southeast Asian-based piracy at sea reporting has extended to both regions.

Whereas information collation and reporting organisations such as the IMO and ReCAAP have functioned at the government-level, the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre’s industry focus supports the interests of maritime shipping. Created in October 1992 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre has operated as a not-for-profit, industry-based information collation and dissemination section of the European-based, International Chamber of Commerce (ICC). Financed mainly through voluntary contributions from the shipping and insurance industry, and overseen by the ICC in London, the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre promotes itself as ‘a focal point in the fight against all types of maritime crime and malpractice’.[103] Adorned with charts and maps of Southeast Asia and other maritime regions, the office in Kuala Lumpur displays plaques from military vessels and commercial companies that have presumably benefited from the centre’s regular reports and warnings. Both the IMO and IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre have tended to define piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea in accordance with IMO definitions, varying only in the timeliness of reporting, and scope. The Centre includes daily, weekly, quarterly and yearly reports of global piracy at sea, making it a useful source of data for determining the effectiveness of current maritime law enforcement measures.[104]

The IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre acts as a manager of information on attempted and successful acts of piracy against vessels at sea, whether at anchor or underway so that its reports influence the way that governments and industry judge the level of threat, and the required response. On occasions, as mentioned previously, the holistic approach taken by the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre to reporting maritime crime incidents has led to accusations that the centre over-reports the prevalence of piracy at sea, which under UNCLOS and IMO definitions, occurs only on the high sea.[105] Incidents collated from first-hand reports from ships, disseminate from the centre via satellite and the internet for access by virtually anyone, free of charge but it also means that the audience is global.[106] Piracy reports detail weapons used, crew injured or killed, and the outcome of each incident in almost all regions of the world. The IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre information sees the commercial shipping masters and owners as primary customers; the service helping to minimise risk to crews, vessels, owners and insurers, although academia and media outlets also rely on the data. IMB Director Pottengal Mukundan argues that before creation of the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre, governments globally had not appreciated the nature or magnitude of the problem of piracy at sea, eventually realising this needs to be actioned. Mukundan sees an increasing willingness of regional governments to take action when more ships are willing to report attacks and the states had access to statistics with improved accuracy.[107]

Information sharing in Southeast Asian states involved development of collaborative mechanisms to increase regional, situational awareness derived through regional means and on regional terms. Whereas in the Caribbean, the United States initiated individual bilateral arrangements with Caribbean states, within Southeast Asia, states turned to regional forums, in particular, ASEAN. The message of cooperation without interference ensconced within its preamble incorporates ‘Asian values’. The preamble declares that member states agree to respect territorial sovereignty, seek equality, maintain territorial integrity, and refrain from interference in the political affairs or functions of neighbouring states. It is an agreement that states will keep relations at a level that allows dialogue and trade but minimises antagonistic behaviour between states. Within this understanding, information collection and dissemination functions facilitates interaction without threatening territorial sovereignty; it also aligns with the more general ASEAN principles that states do not interfere in the affairs of neighbouring states.[108]

Information Sharing: ReCAAP

The origin and scope of ReCAAP differed to that of the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre, because as a government-run and funded reporting organisation, information is controlled; this is more in keeping with regional non-interference requirements. Funded by regional governments and given international legitimacy through the IMO, ReCAAP’s reporting area is East and Southeast Asia. The IMB Piracy Reporting Centre publishes details of attacks globally whereas ReCAAP does not. Its creation attributed to several actors, including Japan’s former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi’s government, ReCAAP has not included reports from Japan’s East Asian region. ReCAAP is an outcome of earlier discussions on regional security, held within a cooperation and discussion forum called, Council for Security Cooperation in the Asia-Pacific (CSCAP), yet the Pacific is not included in ReCAAP reporting either.[109] As a non-government, regional Asia-Pacific forum allowing informal debate and analysis of security needs of regional states, creation of CSCAP occurred between November 1992 and December 1993. The forum assisted development of policy through the ASEAN Regional Forum, facilitating discussion between Southeast Asian states on the way forward in the area of regional security. Whilst consisting of five working groups, the Maritime Cooperation Working Group dealt with maritime security issues and facilitated discussion on maritime crime issues.[110]

Further international support occurred later in the decade with the assistance of the IMO. Whilst the IMO regularly published Maritime Safety Committee Circulars (MSC/C) that offered global guidance and recommendations to governments and ship owners, in June 1999 and 2002 reference was made through an MSC/C to possible responses that might be taken by the maritime industry to the increasing incidence of pirate attacks against vessels within Southeast Asia.[111] These IMO circulars offered guidance to maritime users, including commercial shipping, on practical anti-piracy at sea measures. They also outlined procedures for detaining and arresting vessels within and beyond the territorial sea, and the rights and obligations of all parties involved. Supplementing UNCLOS, these MSC/C recommendations highlighted the importance of communications, of being prepared for transit through threat areas and coordination of maritime patrols on the sea and in the air.

Significantly, the circulars also contained in draft form, what would become the 2005 ReCAAP proposal. It proposed that comprehensive agreement make provision for fully respecting the national sovereignty of all participating countries while providing an opportunity for regional cooperation; it also included provisions for maritime law enforcement in, and over international and national waters.[112] Unlike CSCAP’s focus on general regional security issues, the proposed agreement outlined in the MSC/C sought to provide information collection and dissemination to maritime users, to respond specifically to pirate attacks against shipping. It would later become a multilateral initiative supported by the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre and strongly supported by Japan. Consequently, the development phase of the ReCAAP Agreement concluded in Tokyo in November 2004, and opened for signatures from interested states on the 28 February 2005. Endorsement by 10 states was required before the agreement could come into force. Singapore actively encouraged states to sign and ratify the ReCAAP Agreement. Singapore declared that it would host an Information Sharing Centre (ISC), and it would be physically located in Singapore.[113] Twelve countries did initially sign the agreement, including most ASEAN members including Cambodia, Japan, Laos, Singapore, Thailand, the Philippines, Myanmar, the Republic of Korea, Vietnam, India and Sri Lanka. On the other hand, both Malaysia and Indonesia were reluctant to sign or ratify ReCAAP, stating that the agreement’s anti-piracy at sea focus was not a priority security concern of either state.[114]

Nevertheless, ReCAAP entered into force on 4 September 2006, and in November, the ReCAAP - Information Sharing Centre (ReCAAP-ISC) officially began operations. This complimented the patrolling within the Straits of Malacca that began in 2004. Thereafter, signatory states were encouraged to channel reporting of piracy at sea attacks through the ReCAAP-ISC. Member states included Japan, China, South Korea, India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Thailand, Cambodia, the Philippines, Myanmar, Laos, Brunei, Singapore and Vietnam. Although piracy at sea against ships is a transnational problem, this was the first time an international body had been set up to focus solely on the problem of piracy at sea within a specific region. The membership-based IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre has also provided law enforcement agencies with regular bulletins of piracy at sea attacks and supported establishment of the ReCAAP-ISC.[115] With a global reporting scope, rather than ReCAAP’s regional focus, and with private industry its first responsibility rather than any government, the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre has operated with some advantages. It has not sought to antagonise its host state, Malaysia but neither has that government overly restrained it.[116]

In other ways, the two organisations have also sought similar objectives. By collecting and redistributing reports of threats from ships at sea within Southeast Asia and offering analysis that might avert future attacks, the ReCAAP-ISC has tended to compliment the wider scope of the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre.[117] Creation of the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre sought to reduce the risk to the shipping industry of criminal activity and violence at sea; a poorly managed facet of Southeast Asian security. Due to either lacked the capacity or political interest or both, reporting of incidents had been one way that industry sought to improve security awareness within the Malacca and Singapore Straits. The ReCAAP-ISC was a belated multilateral response by Southeast Asian governments mirroring the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre that sought to improve maritime awareness through government involvement whilst reducing the perception of risk that piracy at sea presented through accurate reporting. Nevertheless, ReCAAP did provide a structure upon which to build future maritime awareness mechanisms. Although the initial purpose of ReCAAP-ISC had been to improve situational awareness of pirate attacks and armed robbery in Southeast Asia’s principal shipping sea-routes, its adaptability to other areas led to IMO initiatives elsewhere. For instance, in January 2007 the IMO announced it would make the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden more secure from terrorists and pirates with a regional maritime information system. Head of policy and planning at IMO, Joe Espinoza, proposed that the IMO was trying to do the same thing as ReCAAP, to ‘use the states and the [shipping] industry for more effective policing’. Consequently, the IMO invited Djibouti, Egypt, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Jordan, Oman, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Sudan, and Yemen to be party to a middle-eastern regional agreement similar to ReCAAP.[118]

Despite Indonesian and Malaysian reluctance to participate in ReCAAP, there were indications after 2006 that both participating and non-participating Southeast Asian states had accepted that regular patrolling and situational awareness within Southeast Asia had improved. Indonesian Admiral Slamet Soebijanto admitted that maritime criminal activities in Southeast Asia had decreased since July 2004 and Indonesian Major General Bambang Darmono was of the opinion that ReCAAP-ISC would respond to a wide-range of transnational criminal activities, including human and drug trafficking and terrorism. According to local media, Soebijanto had agreed with Darmono that joint security arrangements had been successful, and was of the opinion that this had been recognised by other states whose ships used the Malacca and Singapore Straits, including the United States and Japan. However, both Soebijanto and Darmono maintained that improved security meant that there was no need for the military presence of external naval forces in the straits.[119] By February 2007, support for ReCAAP was apparent, indicated by the number of participating regional and external states. States participating in ReCAAP included Bangladesh, Brunei, Cambodia, China, India, Japan, South Korea, Laos, Myanmar, the Philippines, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Thailand and Vietnam. Offered invitations to membership of ReCAAP, Malaysia and Indonesia were included in preliminary meetings although both states chose not to actively participate at that time.

Disputes over the extent of sea territories by several Southeast Asian states still hampered closer cooperation in the region after 2006. Therefore, the benefit of increasing coordination and information sharing through ReCAAP was that it built confidence that helped to reduce residual antagonisms. In a naval review in early 2009, Admiral Dato’ Sri Abdul Aziz bin Hj Jaafar, Chief of the Royal Malaysian Navy, stated his opinion that the issue of overlapping claims within Southeast Asia was still a concern but that the states of Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia and Singapore had worked together to successfully reduce the threat of piracy at sea. Such cooperation and understanding created trust and confidence between the parties.[120] In the same naval review, Admiral Khamthorn Pumhiran, Commander in Chief of the Royal Thai Navy, agreed that the cooperation had been important for the development of interaction with other states. He referred to joint maritime patrols with Malaysia, India and Vietnam and aerial surveillance with the states in the Malacca and Singapore Straits.[121] Increasing confidence in security cooperation also opened the way to include other Southeast Asian states such as Thailand and India in the coordinated Malacca Straits Sea Patrols (MSSPs).

5.5 Changing Regional Attitudes

Reporting

How reporting of piracy at sea occurred significantly affected the weight that Southeast Asian actors placed on the need for reinforcing regional maritime authority. An assumption that the reported level of threat did not warrant security cooperation with neighbouring states was arrived at due to inconsistent and confusing reporting of pirate attacks in Southeast Asia. Partly, reports of piracy at sea differentiated these from armed robbery at sea, attributing attacks to various causes rather than indicators of overall deficiencies in regional maritime law enforcement capacities. Stefan Eklöf argues that statistics of pirate attacks in Southeast Asia have sometimes included acts of robbery within the territorial waters of a state. Therefore, and depending on municipal laws of the state in question, since acts of robbery are not referred to as piracy at sea if the incident occurs within the territorial sea, it is a problem for individual states (according to UNCLOS and IMO definitions) to decide. Arguments about the region being prone to piracy at sea depend on the terminology used, and the way that the statistics have been categorised. Eklöf notes that many cases reported during 2004 by the International Maritime Bureau (IMB) Piracy Reporting Centre that monitors shipping positions daily through broadcasts on the Inmarsat-C SafetyNET service, were actually thefts in port. Of the 167 reports of piracy at sea in 2004, only 92 occurred at sea.[122] Other reasons for variation in piracy at sea totals include natural disaster, and changes to government awareness of piracy at sea as a criminal activity having some political significance.

After 2004, incidents of piracy at sea declined. This was attributable in part to the after affects and sheer devastation of the December 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami and to changes to the patrolling arrangements by various states. Following the tsunami, external naval forces could converge on Indonesian littorals that had previously been off-limits; a move that likely helped deterred pirate attacks.[123] Increased reporting and greater awareness of attacks also led to the active involvement of regional governments in the issue of criminal maritime activities.[124] A typical incident that demonstrates an improving level of cooperation involved the hijacking on 22 September 2007 of the Tanker Kraton, approximately 40 nautical miles Southeast of Bintan Island. Based on the ship’s tracking system, the ship’s owner believed that the thieves were sailing the vessel to either Singapore or Malaysia. Reported to the authorities of Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia, on 24 September, the Indonesian Navy managed to overpower the individuals involved without causing any casualties. This was an incident occurring inside Indonesian territorial waters and correctly reported and acted upon by Indonesian authorities who bore responsibility for security in that maritime region.

The tally of attacks indicated signs that improved cooperation between states was slowly leading to a reduction of piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea in the period after 2004. In the first nine months of 2005, the number of pirate attacks numbered 205, an overall increase on the previous year. However, by 31 October 2006 the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre noted that overall numbers of pirate attacks worldwide, most occurring in Southeast Asia, were in decline. The first nine months of 2006 had seen 174 pirate attacks; an overall decrease of 31 acts of piracy at sea. A breakdown of the 174 attacks in 2006 included 113 illegal boardings of vessels, 11 ships hijacked, 163 hostages taken, 20 crewmembers kidnapped and six killed.[125] A corresponding decrease in worldwide pirate attacks over a three-year period, 2004, 2005, 2006 was the first clear decline in incidents since the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre began analysis in 1991.[126] As most pirate attacks had occurred within Southeast Asia at this time, less attacks within this region alone significantly reduced the global tally. The period 2003 to 2007 saw a decline in the total number of reported incidents of piracy at sea in this region; from 210 in 2003, down to 135 in 2006, and 100 in 2007, according to ReCAAP data.[127] Comparison with other regions reveals that the Gulf of Guinea (West Africa) experienced double the number of attacks and the Gulf of Aden/Somali coast (East Africa) had slightly reduced over the same period. In the first nine months of 2005, reported pirate attacks on shipping globally dropped 18 percent (compared to the same period in 2004) to 205; Southeast Asia accounted for one third of the total. Attacks world-wide included, 15 ships that came under weapons fire, 149 reported being boarded by pirates, 259 seafarers being taken hostage, 19 crew were assaulted, while 12 crew were reported missing.[128]

In many attacks, the degree of violence gave the attacks a higher public and international profile, especially when pirates directed violence at crews of ships, who were of many nationalities outside Southeast Asia. This drew the attention and criticism of governments external to Southeast Asia. Although both piracy at sea in Southeast Asia and narcotics smuggling in the Caribbean are both low-security threats, violence is a consistent characteristic. It has been present in almost all reported incidents. Although not firmly linked to piracy at sea within Southeast Asia, like narcotics smuggling within the Caribbean, ReCAAP reports indicate that crews became the main victims of assault during attacks. The number of ship’s crew, the majority from the Philippines but also from further afield, who had experienced violence at the hand of pirates between 2003 and 2007.

A decline in the rate of attacks over this period, suggested that enforcement of law at sea through coordinated patrolling and information sharing had begun an incremental alleviation of the problem of piracy in Southeast Asia. In 2003, pirates killed two crewmembers, abandoned five others, seriously injured ten, kidnapped two, held 30 hostages and assaulted them, while ten more were threatened with injury. In 2004, pirates seriously injured eight crewmembers, while kidnapping 14 and abandoning one. Additionally, pirates assaulted 27 and took 11 hostages, threatening them with injury. In 2005, pirates killed one crewmember, abandoned two, injured four and kidnapped four, while taking 16 hostages, assaulting six others. In 2006, pirates killed two crew, seriously injured four were seriously injured, kidnapped one crewmember, assaulted or took hostage 24 and threatened five with injury. By 2007, 77 incidents of piracy at sea against ships occurred, one person was killed or missing, one crewmember was abandoned, one seriously injured, four kidnapped and three threatened with injury.[129] Typically, piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea occurred where the attackers would be least at risk from maritime law enforcement authorities. The process of cooperation began as a gradual development from discussions at the beginning of the first decade of the 21st century to address decreasing security at sea in Southeast Asia towards the end of the 1990s.

A Coordinated Approach

Through forums, the first held in March 2000 with a regional gathering in Singapore, early cooperation between many states in Southeast Asia appeared to be leading toward some form of agreement on law enforcement at sea to protect shipping. At this meeting, those Asian state-run agencies that provided maritime policing specifically addressed the issue of piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea. A Tokyo conference in April 2000 followed. Titled, ‘Regional Conference on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships’, the second conference received financial support from the Japanese Nippon Foundation. It cast a wide net suggesting encouragement of cooperation between almost all Asian countries. Participants included Coast Guard officials from 14 countries; Japan, China, Korea, Hong Kong (China), and all ten ASEAN countries; Brunei Darussalam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, the Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam and India. The theme of the conference was Asian anti-piracy at sea challenges in the year 2000.[130] An aim of the conference had been to discuss effective measures in the maintenance and enhancement of maritime security related to unlawful acts at sea within the region. Outcomes of the conference included a consensus agreement to hold regular discussions on anti-piracy at sea, mutual visits of patrol vessels, conducting combined exercises, and a maritime law enforcement-training course facilitated by the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), accepting students from non-Malaysian states.

To ensure continuation of the spirit of cooperation engendered through the Tokyo ‘Regional Conference on Combating Piracy 2000’, four ‘experts’ meetings were held that each had a similar theme of combating piracy at sea and armed robbery against ships. These meetings were reminiscent of the European Union Heads of government meeting in Madrid in 1995, and in Barbados leading to the ‘plan of action’ statements between CARICOM members in 1996 that had laid the groundwork for the six-part bilateral agreements. The combating piracy experts’ meetings were held respectively in; Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia in November 2000; in Jakarta, Indonesia in March 2002; in Manila, the Philippines in March 2003; and in Pattaya, Thailand in February 2004, and also laid the foundations of further resolutions.

A draft resolution acknowledged existing international security regimes that had a bearing on maritime security in Southeast Asia. The relevant international conventions included UNCLOS, the Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation (Rome Convention, 1988) and its Protocol for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Fixed Platforms Located on the Continental Shelf. Additionally, Chapter XI-2 of SOLAS 1974 refers to the International Ship and Port Facility Security (ISPS) Code taking effect on 1 July 2004.[131] The draft resolution also acknowledged the contribution of coast guard agencies within Southeast Asia and the promotion of ‘practical coordination and cooperation’ and significantly, the building of mutual trust in implementing international law. Significantly, within the resolution a caveat provided that, in accordance with national laws, each state had the right to ‘determine its own policy’ and retain the ‘principle of voluntary engagement of each coast guard agency’. This was in keeping with rights of sovereignty and non-interference principles that Southeast Asian states sought to uphold, and later confirmed at meetings between senior members of Asian Coast Guard agencies.[132]

The other complimentary meeting was held in Tokyo, between Southeast Asian coast guard authorities. Terrorism was a current, significant aspect of these discussions. Since the SOLAS Convention 1974 took effect on 01 July 2004, the first ‘Heads of Asian Coast Guard Agencies Asia’ meeting took place in Tokyo, Japan on June 2004, and proposals at this meeting sought ways to protect against maritime terrorism as well as piracy at sea in Southeast Asia. Adopting the resolution (albeit with caveats) drafted at the conclusion of the 2nd‘Heads of Asian Coast Guard Agencies Asia’ meeting on 22 March 2006, were senior officials from Asian Coast Guard Agencies of Bangladesh, Brunei, Cambodia, China, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Japan, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, Pakistan, Philippines, Republic of Korea, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Thailand and Vietnam.[133]

Malacca Straits Sea Patrols

However, while the key states had increased their level of security cooperation from 2004 onwards, Malaysia and Indonesia had independently sought to increase their capacity to enforce law at sea. Under a Joint Coordinating Committee Program, the three states of Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore were able to find consensus on how maritime security would function. The committee, which was referred to as a legal framework for international cooperation, was established through reference to Article 43 of UNCLOS, which requests states to cooperate on matters relating to the safety of navigation.[134] Article 100 of UNCLOS also requests that states cooperate to ‘the fullest extent possible’ to prevent piracy on the high seas, although with reference only to areas outside the jurisdiction of any state. This is consistent with the way that UNCLOS and IMO distinguish between piracy that occurs on the high seas and armed robbery, referring to the same criminal activity but occurring within the territorial sea. Article 43 provides a basis for cooperation between states, using the issue of maritime safety as a springboard to discussing other matters, such as security. From this basic forum, development began on a cooperatively developed security program. Initially codenamed MALSINDO, the Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia coordinated patrols became the MSSPs. Launched 20 July 2004, this sub-regional agreement focussed on securing the Straits of Malacca and Singapore by providing coordinated maritime patrols, albeit that did not include provision for hot pursuit. Participation was limited to Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore initially, although Thailand joined the group in 2008. Building on the apparent success of MSSPs, establishment of another sub-regional program called Eyes-in-the-Skies air patrols in September 2005, sought to improve maritime aerial surveillance capacity. A further information and dissemination program initially called the Intelligence Exchange Group, and later renamed, The Malacca Straits Patrols Information Sharing Exercise (MSP-IS), also built upon the apparent success of the MSSPs; the MSP-IS was officially commenced in 2006. Although direct participation in MSP-IS was limited to the three principal states (Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore) and later a fourth state (Thailand), states external to the region could contribute. Japan contributed patrol craft and law enforcement officers, the United States provided some funding of regional capacity building and other maritime projects, and India conducted joint patrols with both Singapore and Indonesia.

Piracy at sea had been problematic in Southeast Asia but territorial disputes impacted the way that security cooperation developed. For instance, when Singapore decided to increase its physically small, territorial land mass on its surrounding isles, Seraya, Merbabu, Merlimau, Ayer, Chawan, Sakra, Pesek, MesemutLaut and Meskon, barges were sent out to dredge sand from the sea-floor. Western Fleet Commander Rear Admiral Muryono reportedly termed this trade as ‘sand-smuggling’ by Singapore, as the practice occurred within Indonesian waters one day beyond the export license expiry date. Indonesian Admiral Slamet Soebijanto, referred to the issuance of ground-sand export permits by Indonesia and abuse of this system as threatening Indonesia’s sovereignty. Soebijanto’s concerns ostensibly referred to mining permit infractions but actually involved the Singaporean islands getting closer (due to increased size) to Indonesia. Therefore, Indonesia’s solution, according to Admiral Soebijanto was to increase the number of patrol boats operating in the disputed region along the maritime border between both countries.[135]

While Malaysia maintained a level of maritime law enforcement prior to the introduction of MSSPs, John S. Burnett wrote in 2002 of the frustration for Malaysian police trying to prosecute suspected pirates charged with attacks on international shipping in the Straits of Malacca. Onboard a Malaysian Police patrol boat, Burnett interviewed Jalaludin Kassim, Assistant Superintendent of Police, Malaysian Southern Command’s Marine Police anti-Piracy at sea Operations:

[w]e can catch them [the pirates] committing another crime and they will admit they attacked ships. The IMB has a report and we can know which ships have been attacked. Our investigations take time, and by then the captains [of the ships attacked] don’t testify that they were attacked. Our investigations take time, and by then the captains are in another part of the world ... this makes our job nearly impossible.[136]

Ship owners tend to under-report such incidents, preferring to avoid an investigation requiring ship’s officers. It could result in ship’s detention in port, resulting in unwelcome insurance attention. With the possibility that deficiencies in anti-piracy at sea measures have in part led to the vessel being under-prepared and vulnerable, costs of premiums have a potential to rise.[137]

By July 2006, private estimates of threat in the Malacca and Singapore Straits had diminished.[138] Media reports were suggesting that Indonesia was concerned at the high cost of fuel oils used to operate their 25 patrol boats and eight patrol aircraft. These had all been part of Operation Garita in July 2005, a report indicating that cost of fuel would limit their continued use and questioned who should be paying for this. It was only after further attacks that these arguments appeared to cease.[139] In December 2005, the International Chamber of Commerce reported the recovery of a chemical tanker ship that had been carrying palm oil from Pelambang, Indonesia to China. Alerts sent out to all ships when the owners could not contact the vessel, resulted in an intelligence-influx of sightings, and ended back in Indonesian waters when the pirates left the ship and crew six days later.[140] There were further attacks on United Nations vessels in July 2006. By late 2006, concerns raised by the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre indicated security issues in parts of Indonesia - Gaspar/ Leplia Straits, TanjongPriok (Jakarta) and the Straits of Malacca. Although the numbers of attacks were down due to increased and constant patrolling by regional state authorities since July 2005, advice to ships was to continue maintaining strict anti-piracy at sea watches when transiting the straits. The IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre added that pirates in several boats had attacked ships underway. In 2005, Indonesia had been among five high-risk areas, and scored far more attacks and attempted attacks on ships than any other region. Piracy indicators on IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre maps littered the Straits of Malacca, Sunda Straits and the east coast of Kalimantan, Indonesia.[141] By 2006 and 2007, comparative indexes for both years indicated Bangladesh had a comparable number of incidents, although largely against ships at anchor. Although the 2005 IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre indicator map indicated many piracy at sea incidents, by 2006/2007 the numbers had dropped to five reported attacks.[142]

As in the Caribbean, implementing maritime law enforcement arrangements for some Southeast Asia states would be challenging if they retained only limited maritime policing capacities. Within Southeast Asia, Singapore is well-positioned to coordinate its various maritime-related authorities, and had a maritime policing capacity that Malaysia, and particularly Indonesia, initially did not possess in 2004 when coordinated patrolling began. Within the Caribbean, weak maritime policing capacity of many smaller states had limited their effectiveness to provide law enforcement at sea on their own, despite having much smaller maritime territories than states within Southeast Asia.

Weak capacity had therefore provided several Caribbean states an incentive to build capacity by participating in bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements with the United States. However, within Southeast Asia, some states had already made clear, by rejecting the United States RMSI proposal, that direct external assistance was unlikely to be welcomed. Despite achieving agreement on how multilateral coordinated patrolling would occur, the MSSPs arrangements could only be fully effective if further capacity building was undertaken by Malaysia and Indonesia.

Regional Maritime Security Initiative

The United States Government played a significant role in the way that maritime law enforcement developed within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia in the post-Cold War era, both prior to and after 9/11. Although the national interests and strategic priorities of the United States have continued to affect security relations between states generally, its dominant position as a proponent of rule of law in the international system has meant that regional actors could choose security partners trusting that their legal rights to territorial sovereignty would be respected.[143] Combined with the United States’ evolution away from prioritising global, military, strategic issues has allowed regional states within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia to have more confidence in their ability to play a more active role in decision-making regarding their own security, with less fear that the most dominant player would ignore legal process or territorial sovereignty.[144] The USCG’s diplomatic role represented the United States Government, seeking partnerships with states to enforce law at sea. After 9/11, the changing emphasis on terrorism at sea altered this dynamic.

Because the Caribbean bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements between the USCG and Caribbean states were initiated and largely completed prior to 9/11 terrorist attack and the declared ‘war on terror’, the timing is significant. In Southeast Asia, anti-terrorism indirectly assisted states to work towards maritime security cooperation. Decisions made by states in both the Caribbean and Southeast Asia on issues of maritime security were impacted by the consequences of the 9/11 terrorist attack, not least because perceptions about the United States intentions changed thereafter. After 2001, states in Southeast Asia saw terrorism, Islam and crime underscoring every effort by the United States to secure maritime security cooperation in the region. At this politically sensitive period for states with Muslim populations, the United States Navy announced a proposed maritime security operation; the Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI).

Admiral Tom Fargo announced RMSI in March and May 2004, implying that United States military forces deploy in the Malacca and Singapore Straits alongside regional state authorities. Although rejected by some states in Southeast Asia, notably Indonesia, the announcement of RMSI proposed further engagement globally, consistent with ‘war on terror’ rhetoric, through constabulary roles where the United States formed security partnerships with regional systems of states.[145] A public statement in March 2004 (and later in May 2004) confirmed that the United States military acknowledged that the nature of security threats since 9/11 terrorist attack had widened. At a Pacific Command (PACOM) posture testimony to the United States House of Representatives, Fargo–– Commander-in-Chief, United States Pacific Command, (CINCPAC)––indicated the new direction the United States would take in Southeast Asia with regard to the war on terror.[146] Fargo later restated this new direction at a legal conference held in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada in May 2004.[147] Under the proposed title of Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI), the United States Military would consider a regional partnership of states who might ‘contribute their resources’ in a way similar to the way that bilateral arrangements had operated in the Caribbean Sea. Reasons stated by Fargo for RMSI included that security threats now included smuggling narcotics, piracy, human trafficking, terrorism and the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction (WMDs).

Fargo took the position that these were transnational threats that challenged maritime security within Southeast Asia and their illicit purposes abused the ocean environment and poor security and poor governance allowed potential havens for criminal or terrorist activity, providing relatively inconspicuous means by which to move around. Fargo proposed that a regional maritime security agreement would improve situational awareness through surveillance and information sharing assist to secure maritime borders and integrate coast guard and naval operations. RMSI would focus more on law enforcement than the application of military capability. Other post 9/11 terrorist attack initiatives would support RMSI; for example, port and harbour security through the Container Security Initiative (CSI). Fargo also made clear that the proposed RMSI would be a partnership between regional states in Southeast Asia that were willing to contribute resources. Not intended to be a treaty or alliance, RMSI would not consist of a naval force on station, patrolling the region. Fargo made a point of clarifying that the aim of RMSI was not to challenge sovereignty, as each participating state would act voluntarily and make decisions independently. Finally, Fargo insisted that RMSI would involve activities that complied with existing international and municipal law.[148]

Although the United States proposal was well intentioned, it failed to inspire a regional attitude of security cooperation. By failing to consult Southeast Asian states before the announcement of RMSI, the United States neglected the interests of regional, Southeast Asian states. The rejection of this new role by some states in Southeast Asia (in particular Indonesia and Malaysia) signalled that regional states were not going to automatically comply with the wishes of the United States on security matters in the way that states had felt compelled to do during the Cold War. Despite the specific nature of Fargo’s statement, consequent reaction from ASEAN member states to Fargo’s RMSI proposal varied but generally did not support external forces deploying within Southeast Asia. Indonesian and Malaysian governments led a rejection of any action not founded in prior consultation with Southeast Asian states, despite Fargo’s emphasis on consultancy between the United States and regional states as the next step. Perhaps also, due to the proposal appearing after announcement of the Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI), with its implication of the war on Islamic-militant terrorist attacks, some Southeast Asian states (in particular Indonesia and Malaysia) appeared to be concerned that United States interest in the region was inflammatory. Some media reports depicted the United States deploying Special Forces on high-speed gunboats in the Malacca and Singapore Straits.[149] Consequently Malaysian Deputy Prime Minister, Najib Razak, would not invite the United States to join in any security operations of the type that RMSI proposed, because of a failure to seek prior permission from regional states. This failure weakened confidence in RMSI, and raised fears of this arrangement encroaching on Malaysia’s territorial sovereignty.[150] Nugroho Wisnumurti, a former director general for political affairs in the Indonesian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, stated that even when fighting terrorism, the deployment of external forces within Indonesian territorial waters grated against basic non-alignment principles of Indonesian foreign policy.[151] According to Yoichiro Sato, the solidarity of ASEAN states to resist intervention by external powers plays an important role in the way that Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore make decisions about security. Allowing the United States, China, Japan, India and possibly South Korea to balance amongst themselves, ASEAN states regard external powers as providers of supporting roles that left enforcement in the hands of the states themselves.[152]

Therefore, the ‘war on terror’ had changed the profile of international maritime law enforcement, becoming part of the overall security portrait associated with counter-terrorism. Counter-terrorism had merged military and policing for the United States military. Even counter-narcotics trafficking operations had gained new impetus and government support. The United States was already prosecuting a ‘war on drugs’ within the Caribbean before September 2001. Following the 9/11 terrorist attack, the United States-led invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, heightened security and linked terrorism with religion. Counter-terrorism permeated the way that United States viewed its own security and non-state threats could be ‘attached’ to other threats, such as general maritime crime. For the United States, the 9/11 terrorist attacks raised awareness at an official level that low-security activities by non-state actors could be a threat to its national interests. Although regional states had begun the process of coordinating maritime security within Southeast Asia, the availability of other means to facilitate maritime security cooperation depended on the attitudes of individual actors. At the sub-regional level, Singapore sought to use ReCAAP and the Information Sharing Centre (ISC). Singapore’s neighbouring states Malaysia and Indonesia had taken individual action toward capacity building within their respective territorial seas. In part, this was due to uneven maritime law enforcement capacities and different prioritisation of security at sea by all three states but also influenced by existing Cold War era security arrangements. Within the Caribbean, pre-existing defence initiatives, such as the Regional Security System, had not immediately led to improved cooperation on other low-security issues, in the way that the USCG had been able to respond to narcotics smuggling. However, the United States Navy had first been targeted to lead maritime law enforcement efforts, largely because it had an excess of capacity, and initially at least, a strategy re-defining its operational purpose in the immediate post-Cold War era had not been articulated.

Five-Power Defence Arrangement

The Five-Power Defence Arrangement (FPDA) provided another available mechanism for some Southeast Asian states. A focus on asymmetric and non-conventional security threats following the events of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York meant a new role for the FPDA. The FPDA was created in 1971, with a focus on Singapore and Malaysia’s transitional, short-term security arrangements at a time when they were both emerging, independent states. Parties to the agreement include Australia, Malaysia, New Zealand, Singapore and the United Kingdom. In the post-Cold War era, the FPDA has had less prominence as a regional security mechanism than the ASEAN Regional Forum but it retained the framework for maritime security cooperation between its member states. In contrast, ASEAN Regional Forum had regular conferences allowing heads of state or their representatives to confer on a range of security issues that have not been limited to defence. At the time of the FPDA’s formation, its member states, such as Australia had been interested in the concept of ‘forward defence’. However, the FPDA’s contemporary significance allowed retention of an Integrated Air Defence System (IADS) and a Royal Australian Air Force presence in Malaysia. This facilitated regional aerial surveillance programs, coordinated aerial surveillance and patrolling over the Malacca and Singapore Straits at a critical period of when states were looking to bring together their law enforcement at sea. The FPDA was officially given new life at a Singapore meeting on 7 June 2004, as ministers from all five member states ‘recognised the need for the FPDA to adapt to new challenges in the regional security environment, including threats from terrorism and a range of non-conventional sources’.[153] FPDA thereafter retained a defence-focused agreement status built on an underlying commitment by member coastal and external states to confer regularly on security issues as a confidence building measure. A significant cooperative ingredient in Southeast Asia due to its flexibility, the FPDA is adaptive to changing security circumstances and promotes consultation between states on defence and other regional security issues.[154] A main drawback is that Indonesia has not been central to the arrangements, although there is official acknowledgement that Indonesia benefits from any enhancement of regional security that the FPDA offers.[155]

5.6 Improving Security at Sea: Ongoing Developments

In 2004, following a FPDA Defence Minister’s Meeting and the Shangri-La Dialogue, the governments of Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore agreed to hold coordinated patrols under the banner of the Malacca Straits Coordinated Patrol (MSCP), involving Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia. The arrangement was later referred to as the Malacca Straits Security Patrols (MSSPs). Patrols went ahead in July 2004 with 17 vessels from the three key states, Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia patrolling their respective territorial waters. In July 2004 Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia signed the ‘Eyes in the Skies’ agreement, a program of coordinated aerial surveillance patrols and exchanges of personnel as part of MSSPs; Eyes in the Skies aerial surveillance patrols commenced operational patrols in September 2005 and involved strict rules regarding over-flight of territories. An official from each state was to be aboard every flight as a means to retain jurisdiction if an aircraft crossed into the territorial airspace of a neighbouring (and participating) state.

Indonesian Navy reports of ministerial-level meetings between the three states in 2005-06, encouraged by earlier bilateral and trilateral arrangements led to a formal shift in Indonesia’s willingness to cooperate on security within the Malacca Straits. Four previous naval arrangements between various Southeast Asian states indicated that maritime security cooperation was possible; these included two Malaysia-Indonesia arrangements (MALINDO CORPAT and OPTIMA MALINO CORPAT), one between Indonesia and Singapore (INDOSIN CORPAT), and another including all three states (MALSINDO CORPAT). A Tripartite Ministerial Meeting of the (three) Littoral States began the process of formal cooperation. Titled, ‘The Straits of Malacca and Singapore’, held in Batam 1-2 August 2005, a following ‘Jakarta Meeting’ held on 7-8 September 2005 with the title of, ‘The Strait of Malacca and Singapore Enhancing Safety, Security and Environmental Protection’. These led to a signing of Standard Operating Procedures of Malacca Straits Patrols on 20-21 April 2006.[156] These commander level arrangements laid the groundwork for coordinated patrolling and information sharing. Additionally, it laid out the four sectored areas of operations, operation procedures, areas of responsibility, reporting procedures between state forces, radio frequencies, telephone contacts, maritime safety and public relations information. Finally, it included agreement on the issue of ‘hot pursuit’ involving tracking vessels, rather than physically pursuing them.[157]

Within 12 months of commencement of its initial but non-formalised operation in 2004, the coordinated maritime patrols had reportedly reduced the incidence of maritime attacks in the Straits of Malacca and Singapore. From 38 reported pirate attacks in the Strait of Malacca in 2004 to 12 in 2005 and from eight in 2004 to seven in 2005 in the Singapore Straits. Reduced piracy incidents gave cause for politicians to call for changes in the way external actors (including media) were portraying security in the straits.[158] However, some restrictions to the coordinated patrols included the question of the areas in which deployment could take place, the make-up of crews aboard vessels and aircraft, as well as coming to agreement on complex ‘hot pursuit’ issues. While improvements in the rate of patrolling lowered the incidence of reported pirate attacks in the Malacca Straits, reports continued to appear. In August 2005, Indonesia’s Foreign Minister Hassan Wirayuda complained about reports appearing on the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre daily bulletins. Wirayuda stated that the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre was overstating the extent of the security threats in the Malacca and Singapore Straits, but did not deny that problems still existed. He disputed the IMB-Piracy Reporting Centre reports attributing all problems to piracy at sea.[159]

Despite normalisation of coordinated patrolling at sea, and a reduction of the frequency of pirate attacks, further incidents in 2006 provided enough reason for Lloyd’s Joint War Committee to consider retaining its ‘enhanced risk’ assessment of the area.[160] Each attack was a weather gauge of the risk that hull and cargo insurers had to carry as ships transited the Malacca and Singapore Straits, and some incidents in particular had not inspired confidence. While the Indonesian Navy in January 2006 had been able to negotiate with pirates holding two commercial ships and their crews hostage, the pirate’s negotiator turned out to be an Indonesian (TNI) soldier; eventually all hostages were freed and their captors arrested by the Indonesian Navy off Aceh Tamiang (North Sumatra).[161] By June 2006 attacks were less frequent in Southeast Asian waters but two new attacks on United Nations construction barges, Pacific Spirit and Bintang Samudra, on the second of July did raise new concerns that piracy at sea was beginning to recur in the region following the initial lull that occurred after the December 2004 tsunami. Nevertheless, as these barges were targeted by heavily-armed men who fired warning shots, Noel Choong at the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre, stated that he was concerned as ‘pirates are not normally so heavily armed, and these attacks happened in daylight’. Choong feared that pirates so heavily armed were likely to be involved in kidnapping crews for ransom.[162]

When President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono discussed security in the Malacca Straits on June 2006 with Singaporean Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong on Batam Island, he was optimistic. Yudhoyono saw that Indonesian cooperation to secure the Malacca Straits with Singapore was showing positive results, indicated by a significant drop in the number of pirate attacks, and this was leading the way to further enhancement of existing cooperation on maritime security.[163] However, it was also a time when the Indonesian government was negotiating to buy new patrol boats for its navy, to develop military infrastructure and manufacturing with South Korea,[164] and purchase three new warships (a corvette, destroyer and frigate) from Russia. At a cost of US$335 million and with the addition of two or three Russian-built Kilo-class submarines, there was a sense that the Indonesian military was genuine in its interest in building capacity.[165] The country’s military spending was set in 2006 at about 28 trillion rupiah (US$2.83 billion), up from 23.3 trillion rupiah in 2005. Most spending toward asset acquisitions for the Indonesian Navy and the Air Force included additional Russian-made, Sukhoi jet fighters.[166] Indonesian defence forces, especially its navy was dated but the increases in high-end military spending suggested that Indonesia was seeking to meet the naval capability of Singapore and Malaysia, and to allow it to deploy regular maritime patrols in the Malacca and Singapore Straits.[167]

Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency

By standing up a coast guard agency in 2005, Malaysia signalled that its government was serious about policing the straits. The outcome of government studies in 1999 and 2000 indicated that multiple Malaysian, law enforcement agencies with overlapping jurisdictions and functions made for poor economy of available maritime resources. Consequently, a government core team had formulated basic policy and practical implementation requirements. With the enactment of the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency Act 2004 (Act 633), the Malaysian Parliament formerly established the authority in May of the same year.[168] Gazetted on 01 July 2004, the act came into force on 15 February 2005 and the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency (MMEA) gained operational status on 30 November 2005, and officially opened by Deputy Prime Minister of Malaysia on 21 March 2006.[169]

Therefore, the Malaysian government had begun to increase its maritime policing capacity, and meet its responsibilities under the MSSPs, by creating a completely new government authority. The purpose of the MMEA was to assume the duties of the Maritime Rescue Coordinating Centre based in Kuala Lumpur, and compliment other Malaysian marine authorities, including the Royal Malaysian (Marine) Police, the Royal Malaysian Navy, and the departments of Environment, Immigration and Royal Customs and Excise. Commander Senior Assistant Commissioner II Isa Munir headed the Marine Operations Force (MOF),[170] a division of the Royal Malaysian Police tasked with preventing crime and keeping public order.

Whichever Malaysian minister charged with the responsibility for the MMEA also commanded it. Not unlike the United States Coast Guard (that the MMEA was partly modelled upon), during times of war, special crisis or emergency, the Malaysian Armed Forces would command the MMEA. Whereas Munir saw the Malaysian Navy’s role as external defence, the MMEA role provided security and maritime law enforcement.[171] Malaysia has long coastlines that border the Straits of Malacca, part of the South China Sea as well as northwest Borneo, where the (Malaysian) provinces of Sabah and Sarawak are located. With less involvement in shipping than Singapore, Malaysia nevertheless has significant volumes of vessels transiting its territorial waters via the Malacca and Singapore Straits.[172]

Promoted as the principal government agency, the task of the MMEA is to provide law and order within the Malaysia’s maritime ‘zone’ and on the high seas and therefore represents a model of maritime policing for other regional states. The Philippines and Indonesia later looked to the MMEA when considering setting up their own coast guards. Although fundamentally a policing agency, MMEA reports directly to the Malaysian Prime Minister’s office, and the Malaysian monarch appoints its director general.[173] With a wide tasking brief, it assists in any criminal matter, if requested by a foreign state, as provided under the Mutual Assistance in Criminal Matters Act 2002. This compliments regional coordination, by allowing the MMEA to operate air and coastal surveillance, provide its vessels as platforms supporting any relevant maritime agency. It established and managed maritime institutions for the training of officers and provided other duties including territorial and high seas search and rescue. At the outset of its operations, the MMEA lacked capacity, having only a small fleet of patrol boats, adding aircraft from early 2009.[174] However, the range of security operations with which the Malaysian Government tasked MMEA included a high seas law enforcement capacity, to prevent and suppress pirate attacks on ships at sea and illicit traffic in narcotic drugs.[175]

Further meetings on the direction of Malaysian maritime security indicated that Malaysia’s government was trying hard to meet challenges laid out in the Asia Maritime Security Initiative 2004 (AMARSECTIVE2004) but also to normalise regular forums. Chaired by Japanese Coast Guard commandant Kenichi Fukaya, and attended by representatives of 17 states plus observers,[176] AMARSECTIVE2004 had been an inclusive regional forum. Information sharing, maritime terrorism and piracy at sea were key issues discussed. On 20-23 March 2006, MMEA’s second Meeting of the Head of Coast Guard Agencies Asia, titled ‘Regional Cooperation in Maritime Security and Safety’ took place. Director General of MMEA, Vice Admiral Dato Mohammad Bin Nik, in his opening speech stated that the meeting focussed on ‘un-lawful acts at sea in the region covering issues on anti-piracy at sea and anti-maritime crimes’.[177] This meeting sought to give support and recognition to initiatives of individual states, to promote cooperation on law enforcement, and provide a forum for sharing ideas on the way forward for the practicalities of maritime security.[178] According to Nik such meetings allowed common concerns of Southeast Asian states to be raised and future cooperation to be discussed.[179]

According to the Malaysian Government, terrorism had become such an international concern that this had prompted Malaysia to set up a specialised maritime agency. Therefore, the MMEA deigned to send a strong message to external actors, especially Lloyd’s Joint War Committee but also to other states that security cooperation was working by encouraging states to act to advance security through joint as well as independent self-improvements. On 21 March 2006, Deputy Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak stated that despite the high-risk status of the Straits of Malacca, there were indications that since the standing up of the MMEA the straits were better patrolled and less risky, and therefore Lloyd’s Joint War Committee should reassess their previous judgements.[180] A few days later, Admiral Dato’ Sri Abdul Aziz bin Hj Jaafar, Chief of the Royal Malaysian Navy argued a need to maintain close relationships, establish a funding system, conduct coordinated patrols, establish a special ‘hot pursuit’ arrangement, and establish a scheme of exchange of officers. Aziz concluded that it was imperative that states work towards cooperative strategies, signing up for key international treaties, codes and conventions but that regional cooperation was vital, and that a robust legal framework and regional cooperation were essential tools for effective security at sea.[181]

Malaysia’s maritime capability improvements prompted official perceptions, at least within Malaysia, that consolidating regional cooperation could result in a more comprehensive, and mutually beneficial maritime security regime. Nik saw the need for provision of common maritime law but establishment of extent of jurisdiction and cooperation agreements, as well as regular meetings, seminars and exercises. Nik argued for an adequate legal, protective regime for more effective law enforcement at sea that would be a preventative and cooperative regime that made provision for an incident command structure, a common terminology and integrated communications providing comprehensive resource management, rapidly relayed alerts and development of contingency plans.[182]

Challenges for Indonesia

Since Indonesia has always been a large, disparate but politically unified construct, its many political and national factions have often tried literally tearing it apart. It is not comparable to any state in the Caribbean except perhaps Cuba, due to its historic reluctance to participate in regional programs of security. Successive Indonesian governments have sought to consolidate national identity and integrity and political reaffirmation of territorial sovereignty. Consequently, the influences and national interests of external actors challenge the territorial sovereignty of the state.[183] Consequently, maritime security and safety have rated less official attention in Indonesia than the cohesion of the Indonesian state itself. Unlike Malaysia and Singapore, internal conflicts, such as those in Aceh and Central Sulawesi provinces, the political/military struggle with reform, as well a paucity of capacity to enforce law at sea in such an extensive archipelago, have affected the way that Indonesia interrelates with other states on issues of security. For Indonesia, maritime geography often determines its security strengths and vulnerabilities security at sea depends on domestic priorities within the state. An important difference between Indonesia and other states in Southeast Asia has been the way that security within the republic has consistently focused on internal perceptions of threat and imminent political disintegration in an archipelago that could incorporate (in size) the entire Caribbean Sea and islands.

Indonesia’s dual focus on commanding its territorial seas while retaining internal political cohesion reflects the ill-defined role of its navy[184] when responding to maritime threats. In the first decade of the 21st century, Indonesia lacks a dedicated coast guard, its maritime policing capacity consisting of its naval forces supported by civilian police. Although it lacks capacity, the prime role of Indonesia’s naval forces is to police the archipelago and act as guardian of the state’s political integrity. Despite the moderate size of its ageing fleet of vessels, accusations of corruption and self-interest limit its ability to conduct effective maritime patrols.[185] In February 2005, Admiral Bernard Kent Sondakh announced that other states had smaller naval forces but Indonesia’s naval forces, and its 129 patrol vessels were insufficient, ageing or obsolete.[186] Indonesian Navy Chief of Staff, Admiral Slamet Soebijanto stated in September 2007, that the Indonesian Navy required an additional 262 warships to maintain security of the country’s 17,000 islands.[187]

As Indonesia’s maritime law enforcement, capability shortfall has been a combination of underfunded, ageing naval assets and an inability to crew the obsolete platforms it has state has sought external assistance. Hugo Grotius had noted Portuguese and Spanish interests initially sought to divide the ‘Moluccas’ but even they had first to pay taxes to local chiefs because legally they did not have sovereignty over the islands.[188] However, the ships of external states regularly transit international shipping routes through Indonesia, in accord with UNCLOS Article 52. From the Indian Ocean through Southeast Asia into the Pacific Ocean, they do not necessarily contribute, through trade with Indonesia, for this privilege.[189] Therefore, unlike the trade that Singapore receives through shipping, there is an expectation that Indonesia contribute to MSSP, despite receiving a disproportionate trade benefit in return. The Indonesian Defence Minister Professor Juwono Sudarsono illuminated these issues in June 2007, during a speech at the sixth Shangri-la Dialogue held in Singapore. Sudarsono aired some of grievances, explaining official reluctance to cooperate with external initiatives stemmed from Indonesia lacking capacity to provide its own maritime law enforcement as it did not have the money, manpower, ships, skills or training. Indonesia needed other states to provide assistance in these areas, and it had sourced regional Asian powers, China and Japan for these. Sudarsono’s speech focussed on the dominance of the United States in maritime security cooperation, the role of China and Japan in balancing the power of the United States and comprehensive maritime security. Sudarsono pointed out that since the United States had proposed the RMSI (that had been rejected by Indonesia), it had facilitated the ISPS Code, sought to increase the security of international sea lanes as part of an overall ‘war on terror’, and had participated actively in the ASEAN Regional Forum,Asian Security Conference.[190] For Sudarsono, comprehensive maritime security had to be holistic, connecting increasing levels of shipping in the Straits of Malacca to other safety issues such as, environmental degradation and low fish stocks that forced subsistence fishers to turn to pirate attacks in order to feed their families.[191]

Sudarsono’s complaints resonated with local media, who reiterated the security shortfalls, and warned that external states who sought to build Indonesian maritime policing capacity through donating maritime assets would find other means if Indonesia did nothing. Indonesia’s Jakarta Post newspaper warned in 2007 that external actors with ‘strong economic and political interests in the waterway’ would predominate and direct the course of maritime security ‘if Indonesia remains unable to play a credible and sustainable role’ in the Strait of Malacca.[192] The same editorial argued that piracy at sea and other security problems challenged the ability of Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore to ‘continue to reject the presence of foreign powers’ in the Strait.[193] Nevertheless, Japan donated three patrol boats to Indonesia in November 2007. These were 27-metre boats, operated by 12 personnel, with patrol speeds of 32 knots, and fitted with high-tech communication and navigation equipment. The agreement with Japan was that these patrol boats should be located in Tanjung Batu, Riaw and Belawan and Medan (North Sumatra).[194] In January 2008, 15 patrol boats were also gifted to Indonesia by the United States after Indonesia had requested the donation of patrol boats due to its own limited and dated capabilities, ostensibly to enable counter-illicit drug smuggling patrols in the Malacca Straits.[195]

5.7 Maritime Security Consolidation

Building Confidence

Within the Caribbean, confidence building remained at the bilateral maritime law enforcement bilateral partnership level, with some information sharing, whereas coordinated patrolling within Southeast Asia built confidence between multiple key actors, therefore providing a foundation for further multilateral security cooperation.[196] On 21 April 2006, the MSSPs received official recognition by representatives of each state that was party to the agreement, with some consideration given to expanding participation in the future. MSSPs did not allow deployment of external forces within the straits, although there was some agreement on intelligence sharing, and some practical training aid provided by the USCG and potential future partners to the agreements with India and Thailand. Participation for external states would allow their naval forces to patrol the Andaman Sea approaches at the northern end of the Straits of Malacca. However, initial signatories only included the Chief of Defence Force of Malaysian Armed Forces, Admiral Tan Sri Mohd Nor, the Chief of the Singapore Armed Forces, Lieutenant-General Ng Yat Chung and Air Chief Marshall Djoko Suyanto of the Indonesian Defence force. Suyanto stated that the treaty allowed the three states in the Malacca Straits littoral to ‘combat armed sea robberies, sea-piracy and any illegal activities as well as threats to shipping’. Suyanto regarded that Thailand, with a coastline adjoining the northern end of the Malacca Straits, had potential to be a future partner to this treaty.[197] This proved to be correct, although it was not until September 2008 that the Royal Thai Navy formalised its participation into the Malacca Strait Sea Patrols. Commander-in-Chief of the Thai Navy, Admiral Sathiraphan Keyanont, stated that participation would boost security at sea, and prevent attacks on the public, referring to crews of ships.[198]

By August 2006, the maritime security situation outlook improved, due partly to ongoing collaboration between states, and partly to a re-assessment by Lloyd’s. Lloyd’s adjusted its assessment of the Malacca and Singapore Straits, although ports along northeastern Sumatra were still deemed at risk, and be subject to war-risk surcharges. Lloyd’s changed assessment implied that the security situation at sea had improved generally, even though it needed more improvement at the sub-regional level. By December 2006, the coordinated MSSPs included Thailand, prompting Indonesian media to describe the four states as ‘Southeast Asian guardians of the Malacca Straits’.[199] Regional senior defence officials raised the prospect of building on the success of coordinated patrolling by extending cooperation between states to information sharing. During discussions with Indonesian Defence Minister Juwono Sudarsono, Malaysian Defence Minister Najib Rajak stated that due to the decreasing number of incidents of piracy at sea against ships, ‘[w]e will not change our current approach, namely coordinated patrols, because this is the right approach’.[200]

Improving Security Coordination

In order to increase coordination between the states, Singapore’s Defence Minister announced in 28 March 2007 the building of a joint command, information collection and dissemination centre to house three maritime groups under one roof. By assemblage of the Singapore Maritime Security Centre, the Information Fusion Centre and the Multinational Operations and Exercises Centre, states could conduct flexible cooperation and respond effectively to the distinctive needs of Southeast Asia’s maritime security environment.[201] Singapore’s Ministry of Defence stated that the Malacca Straits Patrols Information Fusion Centre would involve Singapore Armed Forces (SAF), Tentera Nasional Indonesia (TNI), the Malaysian Armed Forces (MAF) and the Royal Thai Armed Forces (RTARF). It would operate out of Tuas Naval Base, Singapore. Projected to combine shipping databases and other maritime information, such as piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea, the Information Fusion Centre facilitated a coordinated response to incidents occurring within the Malacca and Singapore Straits.[202]

By May 2009, Malaysian official opinion was optimistic that piracy at sea would eventually cease to occur within the Malacca and Singapore Straits due to improved coordination of effort. Abdul Rahim Hussein from Malaysia’s National Security Council predicted the end of pirate attacks in the Malacca Straits due to the success of cooperation and coordination between the various regional marine authorities. As there had been few incidents during 2009 compared with 2004, when there were 38 attacks, Hussein argued that continuation of the policy of coordinated patrolling and information sharing by states continued to discourage pirate attacks against shipping in the straits. Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesian states had been able to defeat local gangs of pirates that regularly targeted ships, denying them sanctuary ashore. If Malaysia and the other states could maintain the operational success for the following five years, then the criminal gangs could be broken.[203]

Conclusion

This chapter discussed the development of maritime security cooperation in Southeast Asia. How piracy at sea and the threat of piracy and terrorism, together with pressure from external states, and involvement of the United States, influenced actors within the region to develop a coordinated maritime security response. In what way is this comparable to events in the Caribbean where states coordinated maritime law enforcement responses through bilateral arrangements? Through use of international law and regional forums to construct practical security responses, Southeast Asian states have been able to shape maritime security cooperation into a form suited to regional values. This contrasts with the Caribbean, as it is a step away from allegiance or dependency on the United States for regional security, and towards consolidation of new norms of inter-dependent regional security, exclusive cooperation between states, and locally driven legal order.

[1] . James J. Wirtz,‘Will Globalization Sink the Navy?’, Globalization and Maritime Power, in Sam J. Tangredi, (ed.), Institute for National Strategic Studies, (US) National Defense University, 2002.
[2] . UN Atlas of the Oceans, International Maritime Organization, 2010.
[3] General James T. Hill, ‘Building Regional Security Cooperation in the Western Hemisphere: Issues and Recommendations’, Shaping the Regional Security Environment in Latin America, Preface, Strategic Studies Institute, October 2005, pp. v-1x.
[4] The ‘state’ often characterises government, its authority and its functionaries. In this thesis, the state is the authority having legal territorial sovereignty over an acknowledged area of land and sea within political borders, and that is able to make decisions on its own laws within those borders. Therefore, ‘external states’ refer to international actors that do not form part of the geographic region of either the Caribbean or Southeast Asia but may have interests in one or both.
[5] Stuart W. Smead, ‘A Thesis on Modern Day Piracy’, Southern Latitudes, 2001.
[6] The MV Cheung Son left Shanghai 13 November 1998. The vessel was never found and was likely ‘re-berthed’, (whereby its name and registration is illegally changed). Fishermen accidently made the discovery when the bodies caught on their nets. A number of arrests were made by Chinese authorities; Cargolaw, ‘Special Articles from the Cargo Letter for October 1999’, International Vessel Casualties and Pirates Database: Years 1999 and Before:The Forces of Pirates and Weather on Seaborne Commerce, The Law Offices of Countryman and McDaniel, Los Angeles, California, 2001.
[7] . United Nations Security Council Resolution (SCR) 1373 (2001); UNSCR 1456 (2003)
[8] . T.A. Martin, ‘The Impact of Narco-Trafficking and Interdiction on Shipping’, Strategic Insights, no. 15, Risk Intelligence, November 2008, pp. 8-12.
[9] Virginia Lunsford, ‘What Makes Piracy Work?’ United States Naval Institute. Proceedings, vol. 134, no. 12, December 2008, pp. 28-33.
[10] United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), Articles 24-28, from ‘Duties of the Coastal State’, to ‘Civil Jurisdiction in relation to foreign ships’, 1982.
[11] S.R. Subramanian, ‘Fighting the Somali Pirates: The ‘Shipriders Agreement’ Breakthrough’, Jurist, University of Pittsburgh School of Law, 29 January 2009.
[12] Kenneth C. Randall, Universal Jurisdiction under International Law, Texas Law Review, vol. 66, 1987-1988, pp. 785-841, in Michael Bahar, ‘Attaining Optimal Deterrence at Sea: a Legal and Strategic Theory for Naval Anti-Piracy Operations’, Vanderbilt Journal of Transnational Law, vol. 40, no. 1, 2007, pp. 1-86.
[13] Martin Wight, ‘Why is there no International Theory?’ International Relations, vol. 2, no. 1, 1960, pp. 35-48; Oxford English Reference Dictionary, Oxford University Press, NY, 1995, p.181.
[14] IMO, Protection of Vital Shipping Lanes: Sub-regional meeting to conclude agreements on maritime security, piracy and armed robbery against ships for States from the Western Indian Ocean, Gulf of Aden and Red Sea areas, Council 102nd Session, Agenda item 14 (C102/14), 03 April 2009.
[15] IMO, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships: Recommendations to Governments for preventing and suppressing piracy and armed robbery against ships, MSC/C.1333, Ref. T2-MSS/2.11.4.1, 26 June 2009, pp. 6-7; Guidance to shipowners and ship operators, shipmasters and crews on preventing and suppressing acts of piracy and armed robbery against ships.
[16] IMO, Protection of Vital Shipping Lanes.
[17] Mergawati Zulfakar and Teh Eng Hock, ‘National anti-piracy law in the pipeline’, The Star Online, Malaysia, 20 May 2009.
[18] ĖricFrécon, The Resurgence of Sea Piracy in Southeast Asia, IRASEC Occasional Paper, no. 5, 2008; Graham Gerard Ong-Webb, Piracy, Maritime Terrorism and Securing the Malacca Straits, ISEAS Publishing, Singapore, 2006; Derek Johnson and Mark Valencia, (eds), Piracy in Southeast Asia: Status, Issues, and Responses, ISEAS Publications, Singapore, 2005.
[19] UNCLOS 1982, Article 105.
[20] ReCAAP is more fully dealt with in section 5.4; IMO, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships: Regional Co-Operation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia, MSC 83/19/2, Maritime Safety Committee, 83rd Session, Agenda item 19, 27 July 2007.
[21] IMO, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships: Guidance to Shipowners and Ship Operators, Shipmasters and Crews on Preventing and Suppressing Acts of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships, MSC.1/Circ. 1334, Ref. T2-mss/2.11.4.1, 23 June 2009.
[22] Ivica Tijardovic, ‘How low can we go’, Shiptalk, (UK), 8 December 2006.
[23] Noor Apandi Osnin and Choy Ngee Sheng, ‘Piratical Attacks Including the Seizure of Vessels for Ransom - Seafarer’s View’, The Views of the Shipping Industry on Piratical Attacks Including the Seizure of Vessels for Ransom, 3rd International Meeting on Piracy and Phantom Ships, Malaysia Centre for Ocean Law and Policy, MIMA, Kuala Lumpur, June 1998.
[24] John Patch, ‘The Overstated Threat’, United States Institute. Proceedings, vol. 134, no. 12, December 2008, pp. 34-39.
[25] UNCLOS, Article 111, ‘Right of Hot Pursuit’.
[26] Craig H. Allen, ‘Doctrine of Hot Pursuit: a Functional Interpretation Adaptable to Emerging Maritime Law Enforcement Technologies and Practices’, Ocean Development and International Law, vol. 20, iss. 4, 1989, pp. 309-341.
[27] An exception is China’s claim to almost all of the South China Sea; this is an ongoing cause of friction and dispute with almost every other state in the region regarding the rights of states to the area’s resources.
[28] A contiguous zone may extend up to but not beyond 24 nautical miles from a coastal state’s base line, and refers to that area of sea adjacent to the territorial sea that allows limited provision to extend municipal laws of the state, such as customs, immigration, fiscal and environmental laws and provide sanctions and punishment for these when they occur within the territorial sea––– UNCLOS 1982, Article 33, ‘Contiguous Zone’.
[29] UN, ‘Table of Claims to Maritime Jurisdiction (as at 31 July 2010)’, Legislation and Treaties, 31 July 2010.
[30] An ‘exclusive economic zone’ (EEZ) such as that claimed by Australia and many other coastal states can extend to 200 nautical miles (370.4 km) offshore from what UNCLOS terms the baseline, that is described as the coastal low-water line; UNCLOS 1982, Articles 7, 14.
[31] UNCLOS 1982, ‘Table of Claims’.
[32] ‘Malaysia and Indonesia patch up on oil dispute’, The Financial Express, 8 March 2005.
[33] S. Jayakumar, Tommy Koh, Pedra Branca: The Road to the World Court, National University of Singapore, 2001, pp. 1-16.
[34] UNCLOS 1982, Section 2 Article 15: The base line (UNCLOS, Articles 7, 14) refers to the low-water mark on shore, the median line is the point at which the limits of a coastal state’s territorial sea abuts an adjoining territorial sea, as occurs along the southern end of the Malacca and Singapore Straits–––UNCLOS, Section 2, Articles 3, 4, 11, 15 and 16.
[35] DoD Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms, US Department of Defense, Joint Publication 1-02, 8 November 2010.
[36] John S. Burnett, Dangerous Waters: Modern Piracy and Terror on the High Seas, Penguin, NY, 2002, p. 285; The Oxford English Reference Dictionary (1995) defines ‘conspiracy’ as cons (with) and piracy (armed attack on a ship at sea); ‘conspiracy’ is ‘a secret plan to commit a crime or do harm, often for political ends’; to conspire is to ‘combine secretly to plan and prepare an unlawful or harmful act’.–––Oxford English Reference Dictionary, Oxford University Press, NY, 1995.p. 181.
[37] ‘Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation’, Rome, United Nations Treaty Series, vol. 1678, no. 29004, 1992, pp. 222-234.
[38] Graham G. Ong-Webb, ‘Ships Can Be Dangerous, too: Coupling Piracy and Terrorism in Southeast Asia’s maritime Security Network’, in Derek Johnson and Mark Valencia, (eds), Piracy in Southeast Asia: Status, Issues and Responses, ISEAS Publications, Singapore, 2005.
[39] Brian Fort, ‘Transnational Threats and the Maritime Domain’, in Johnson and Valencia, Piracy in Southeast Asia. pp. 23-36.
[40] Ong-webb, ‘Ships Can Be Dangerous’.
[41] Adam J. Young, and Mark J. Valencia, ‘Conflation of Piracy and Terrorism in Southeast Asia: Rectitude and Utility’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, vol. 25, no. 2, 2003, pp. 269-283.
[42] ‘Peril on the Sea’, The Economist, 2 October 2003.
[43] ‘Dire Straits’, Time, 29 November 2004.
[44] ‘Pirate attacks won’t influence insurance rates’, Taipei Times, 4 July 2005.
[45] Joshua H. Ho, ‘The Security of Sealanes in Southeast Asia’, Asian Survey, vol. 46, iss. 4, 2006, pp. 558-574; Joshua H. Ho, ‘The Shifting Maritime Power and the Implications for Maritime Security in Southeast Asia’, CSIS, American-Pacific Sea-lanes Security Conference Paper on Maritime Security in Asia, Hawaii, 18-20 January 2004.
[46] ‘Navy Seizes Explosives Haul’, The Australian, 18 June 2008.
[47] Ian Storey, ‘The Triborder Sea Area: Maritime Southeast Asia’s Ungoverned Space’, Terrorism Monitor, (The Jamestown Foundation), vol. 5, iss.1 9, 11 October 2007, pp. 1-4.
[48] Gross tonnage or gross registered tonnage (GRT) refers to the internal volume of a ship and to its cargo capacity, and is a standard means of determining the size of a vessel.
[49] IMO, Mandatory Ship Reporting Systems, SN/Circ.201/Corr.1 , Ref. T2/2.07, 2 September 1998; Mandatory Ship Reporting System in the Straits Of Malacca and Singapore-Straitrep, Maritime and Port Authority of Singapore, Port Marine Circular No. 65, 20 October 1998.
[50] Marine Department of Malaysia (MDM), ‘Mandatory Ship Reporting System in the Straits of Malacca and Singapore’, 2007.
[51] Ho, ‘The Security of Sea Lanes’.
[52] Charts are ‘maps’ of the sea, revealing seabed territory, obstacles, navigational aids and outstanding coastal and sub-surface features such as hydrographical soundings.
[53] ‘Who Owns the Malacca Strait’, The Jakarta Post, 28 August 2007.
[54] Donald Urquart, ‘Shipping tonnage, container throughput and bunker sales did well says MPA’,Business Times (Singapore), 11 January 2007.
[55] J.N. Mak, ‘Unilateralism and Regionalism: Working Together and Alone in the Malacca Straits’, in Graham Gerard Ong-Webb, (ed.), Piracy, Maritime Terrorism and Securing the Malacca Straits, ISEAS Publishing, Singapore, ch. 8, 2006, pp. 134-62.
[56] ‘How low can we go’, Shiptalk.
[57] Osnin and Sheng, ‘Piratical Attacks’.
[58] Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), Threats and Challenges to Maritime Security 2020, US Coast Guard Intelligence Coordination Center, Washington DC, ch. 2, 1 March 1999.
[59] Johnson and Valencia, Piracy In Southeast Asia.; J.S. Burnett, Dangerous Waters: Modern Piracy and Terror on the High Seas, Penguin, NY, (2002); Ong-Webb, Piracy, Maritime Terrorism.
[60] Frécon,The Resurgence of Sea Piracy.
[61] David Pearl, Worldwide Threat to Shipping, Office of Naval Intelligence, Civil Maritime Analysis Department, Washington DC, 8 August, 2007.
[62] Lloyd’s Market Association and International Underwriting Association of London, Joint War Committee, Hull War, Strikes, Terrorism and Related Perils Listed Areas, Lloyds, London, 20 June 2005; also included was the Sulu Archipelago, Indonesia and a number of other areas around the world.
[63] Ali M. Koknar, ‘Terror on the High Seas: Piracy and Terrorism are Joining Forces and Creating Troubled Waters for the Maritime Industry. (Transportation)’, Security Management, vol. 48, no. 6, June 2004, pp. 75-82.
[64] Burnett, Modern Piracy.
[65] Jim Garamone, ‘Piracy in Straits highlights Need for Maritime Security’, American Forces Press Service, Singapore, 5 June 2005.
[66] Michael Richardson, ‘Maintaining Security in Straits of Malacca and Singapore’, Jakarta Post, 11 January 2006.
[67] Graham G. Ong and Joshua Ho, Maritime Air Patrols: The New Weapon against Maritime Piracy in the Malacca and Singapore Straits, Institute of Defence and Strategic Studies, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore 13 October 2005.
[68] ‘Malaysia to help patrol Strait of Malacca’, The China Post, 23 March 2006.
[69] Robert Wohlschlegel, Curtis W. Turner, and Kent Butts, ‘Maritime Threats Workshop’, Issue Paper, US Army Pacific’s: Defense Environmental and International Cooperation (DEIC) Workshop, Center for Strategic Leadership, US Army War College, vol. 09-04, October 2004.
[70] Drug Control: US Interdiction Efforts in the Caribbean Decline, Report to the Chairman, Subcommittee on National Security, International Affairs, and Criminal Justice, Committee on Government Reform and Oversight, House of Representatives, GAO/NSIAD-96-119, 104th Congress, 2nd Session, 17 April 1996, p. 12; US Coast Guard Intelligence Coordination Center, and Office of Naval Intelligence, ‘The Future of Maritime Activities’, in Threats and Challenges to Maritime Security 2020,ch. 3, sect. 3, March 1999; Coast Guard Drug Removal Statistics (in pounds), Office of Law Enforcement, (CG-531), 2006-2010.
[71] ‘JCC Cargo Watchlist - version 18’, Exclusive Analysis, (London), 16 June 2006.
[72] ‘Lloyd’s Should Drop Strait of Malacca from War-risk List’, Bernama.com:Malaysian National News Agency, 19 June 2006.
[73] ‘Strait of Malacca : Malaysian Admiral Questions Terror Risk’, Adnkronos International, 4 July 2006.
[74] Hugo Grotius, The Freedom of the Seas, or the Right Which Belongs to the Dutch to take part in the East Indian Trade, Translated by Ralph Van Deman Magoffin, James Brown Scott, (ed.), NY, Oxford University Press, 1916, p. 14a.
[75] IMO, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships: Regional Co-Operation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia, MSC 83/19/2, Maritime Safety Committee, 83rd Session, Agenda item 19, 27 July 2007.
[76] John M. Collins, ‘Natural Resources and Raw Materials’, in Military Geography for Professionals and the Public, Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defence University Press, Washington DC, ch. 8, 1998.
[77] ‘Planning National Strategies–Marine Interests at Stake; Guarding Malacca Strait Crucial,’ Yomiuri Shimbun, (Tokyo), June 10, 2006.
[78] Yomiuri Shimbun, ‘Planning National Strategies - Marine interests at stake / Guarding Malacca Strait crucial’, Daily Yomiuri, 10 June 2006; Mineral Resources and Petroleum Products Statistics (preliminary report: July 2007), Agency for Natural Resources and Energy (ENECHO), Government of Japan, August 2007.
[79] D. Quijano, Ilang-Ilang, ‘Japan to aid ASEAN in securing sea-lanes’, ABS-CBN News, 12 January 2007.
[80] ‘Japan breaks new taboo with arms export to Indonesia’, Joyo Indonesia News Service, 13 June 2006.
[81] ‘World Oil Chokepoints, Malacca’, Country Analysis Briefs, US Energy Information Administration, February 2011.
[82] Jean-Paul Rodrigue, Straits, Passages and Chokepoints; a Maritime Geostrategy of Petroleum Distribution, Hofstra University, Hempstead, NY, 2004.
[83] ‘China’s Oil demand to rise 6% in 2006: Report’, China Daily, 1 December 2005.
[84] Zubir Mokhzani and Mohd Nizam Basiron, ‘The Strait of Malacca: the Rise of China, America’s Intentions and the Dilemma of the Littoral States’, Maritime Studies, iss. 141, March-April 2005, pp. 24-26.
[85] ‘Deng puts Forward New 12-Character Guiding Principle for Internal and Foreign Policies’, ChingPao , no. 172, 5 November 1991, pp. 84-86, (in) US Department of Defense, ‘Military Power of the People’s Republic of China 2006’, Section 1202, Annual Report on Military Power of the People’s Republic of China, National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2000, Public Law 106-65, Office of the Secretary of Defense, 2006;
86 ‘India, Pak Coast Guard Chiefs Discuss Maritime Cooperation’, The Times of India, 9 August 2007.
[87] ‘Indonesia India Relations’, Embassy of the Republic of Indonesia in New Delhi, 28 March 2007; ‘RI, India to conduct joint patrol in Andaman Sea’, Antara News, 22 August 2007.
[88] Jason Jackson, The Caricom Single Market and Economy (CSME) and the Risk of Economic Polarisation, (draft working paper), University of West Indies (UWI) Sir Arthur Lewis Institute of Social and Economic Studies (SALISES) Conference, St. Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago, 31 March-2 April 2004.
[89] ‘Backgrounder: Association of Southeast Asian Nations’, People’s Daily, 23 October 2009.
[90] John F. Bradford, ‘The Growing Prospects for Maritime Security Cooperation in Southeast Asia’, Naval War College Review, vol. 58, no. 3, Summer, 2005, pp. 63-86.
[91] Rosalina Mohamad, ‘Maritime Agency Stations Unit at PulauPisang’, The Star, 2 June 2008.
[92] ‘Indonesia, Malaysia Face Off at Sea’, Asia Sentinel, 29 May 2009.
[93] ‘Flag Officer’ refers to a naval officer whose seniority entitles them to have a personal flag flown aboard any vessel upon which they embark. It is a mark of rank, usually rear admiral and above.
[94] (Vice Admiral) Mateo Mayuga, The Coast Watch South Initiative: a Proposed Framework for Maritime Security Cooperation in the Sulu and Celebes Seas, International Maritime Security Symposium, 12-14 September 2006; ‘Navy chief as resource speaker in international maritime symposium’, Philippines Navy Press Release, 19 September 2006.
[95] Donna J. Nincic, ‘Sea Lane Security and US Maritime Trade: Chokepoints as Scarce Resources’, in Sam J. Tangredi, (ed.), Globalization and Maritime Power, Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defense University, Washington DC, ch. 8, 2002, pp. 143-170.
[96] AmitavAcharya, Constructing a Security Community in Southeast Asia: ASEAN and The Problem of Regional Order, London, Routledge, 2001, p. 130.
[97] ‘Singapore Navy receives its first frigate, RSS Formidable’, Channel News Asia, 5 May 2007.
[98] (Captain) Ang We Han, ‘The FPDA, A Singapore Perspective’, Pointer: Singapore Armed Forces Quarterly, vol. 24, no. 2, April-June 1998; CARAT Public Affairs, ‘Malaysian Navy takes on coast guard role during CARAT exercises’, 8 July 2001; ‘Cooperation Afloat Readiness and Training (CARAT)’, Global Security, Virginia, 2011.
[99] ‘Manila, US War Games Deal with Maritime Threats’, Joyo News, 19 February 2007.
[100] GerTeitler, Piracy in Southeast Asia: A Historical Comparison, University of Amsterdam and the Royal Netherlands Naval College, 2002.
[101] ‘RI, US hold Joint Military Exercise’, Antara News, 6 August 2007.
[102] Mariana O’Leary, Mellon’s Far Side of the World patrol, United States Coast Guard, US Department of Homeland Security, August 2004, p. 20.
[103] International Maritime Bureau, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships; Annual Report, 1 January-31 December 2006.
[104] IMB, Annual Report.
[105] Ian Storey, ‘Securing Southeast Asia’s Sea Lanes: A Work in Progress’, Asia Policy, no. 6, July 2008, p. 95-128.
[106] The IMB-PRC issues daily status reports on piracy and armed robbery to ships via broadcasts on the Inmarsat-C SafetyNET service.
[107] ICC-CCS, ‘Optimism as Piracy Attacks Fall for Third Year in a Row’, ICC Commercial Crime Services, London, 22 January 2007.
[108] ‘Preamble’, Charter of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, 13th ASEAN Summit, Singapore, 20 November 2007.
[109] ‘Singapore holds its largest inter-agency maritime exercise’, Singapore News, 29 August 2006.
[110] RiefqiMuna, ‘Landscape of Regional Cooperation: Its Meaning for a Security Sector Reform Network in Asia’, Journal of Security Sector Management, University of Cranfield, UK, vol. 1, no. 3, December 2003, pp. 1-12.
[111] IMO, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships, Recommendations to Governments for Preventing and Suppressing Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships, MSC/C.622/Rev. 1, Ref. T1/13.01, London, UK, 16 June 1999.; IMO, Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships, Guidance to Shipowners and Ship Operators, Shipmasters and Crews on Preventing and Suppressing acts of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships, MSC/C 623/Rev. 3, Ref. T1/13.01, London, UK, 29 May 2002.
[112] IMO, MSC/C.622/Rev. 1, Ref. T1/13.01.
[113] ‘Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia (ReCAAP)’,Ministry of Foreign Affairs (Singapore) Press Statement, 21 July 2006.
[114] ReCAAP was instigated by the Japanese Prime Minister in Oct. 2001, and finalized November 2004 in Tokyo–––About ReCAAP, ReCAAP Information Sharing Centre, 2011.
[115] IMO Annual Report, 1 January-31 December 2006.
[116] T. Rajan, ‘Singapore to Open Anti-Piracy Coordination Centre’, The Straits Times, 23 November 2006.
[117] T. Rajan, ‘Multi-government effort to fight piracy takes off’, The Straits Times, 22 June 2006.
[118] ‘IMO plans data pool for Horn’, Fairplay: International Shipping Weekly, 18 January 2007.
[119] ‘RI, Singapore and Malaysia to build Strait of Malacca Patrol Information System’, Antara News, 16 November 2006.
[120] (Admiral) Jorge Omar Godoy, United States Naval Institute. Proceedings, ‘The Commander’s Response’, vol. 135, no. 3, March 2009, pp. 14-33.
[121] Proceedings, ‘Response’.
[122] Stefan Eklöf, ‘Piracy in Southeast Asia: Real Menace or Red Herring?: Counting Piracy’, The Asia-Pacific Journal: Japan Focus, 5 August 2005.
[123] Arild Wegener, ‘Piracy in the Strait of Malacca’, SKULD Report, Norwegian Ship Owners Association, 28 February 2005.
[124] ICC-CCS, ‘Optimism as Piracy Attacks Fall’.
[125] ICC-CCS, ‘Global piracy decreasing but hotspots remain deadly’, Piracy Report, London 31 October 2006.
[126] ICC-CCS, ‘Optimism as Piracy Attacks Fall’.
[127] RECAAP Information Sharing Centre, Adding Value, Charting Trends: Annual Research Report 2007, Singapore, 2007, pp. 18-23.
[128] IMB AnnualReport, 2005.
[129] RECAAP, Annual Report, 2007, p.23.
[130] Regional Conference on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships, Tokyo, April 2000;
.. ASEAN, India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Republic of Korea, China, Hong Kong, and Japan, Ministry of Foreign Affairs Japan, 2001.
[131] IMO, Guidance Relating to the Implementation of SOLAS Chapter XI-2 and the ISPS Code, MSC/Circ. 1132, Ref. T2-MSS/2.11.1, Annex, 14 December 2004.
[132] Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency (MMEA), Resolution: 2nd Meeting Head of Coast Guard Agencies Asia, (adopted on the 22nd Mar 2006); Yoichiro Sato, Southeast Asian Receptiveness to Japanese Maritime Security Cooperation, Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies, September 2007; CSCAP Study Group on Facilitating Maritime Cooperation in the Asia-Pacific-Meeting on the Roles of Maritime Security Forces, 5 April 2007.
[133] ‘Coast Guard’ here refers to water police, coast guard and other marine authorities within Southeast Asia, although they have various titles, eg: in Malaysia’s coast guard is the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency.
[134] UNCLOS, Article 43, ‘Agreement Relating to the Implementation of part XI of the Convention’.
[135] ‘RI Navy Intensifies Patrol in Waters Bordering with S’pore’, Antara News, 24 February 2007.
[136] Jamaludin Kassim, in Burnett, Dangerous Waters, pp. 162-3.
[137] Burnett, Dangerous Waters, p. 163.
[138] JCC Cargo Watchlist.
[139] ‘Pirates May Resume Kidnappings in Strait of Malaccas, Bureau Says’, Jakarta Post, 13 July 2006.
[140] ICC Piracy Report, ‘Hijacked Tanker Recovered’, Kuala Lumpur 25 December 2005.
[141] IMB, Piracy and Armed Robbery Q3 2006, 2006.
[142] IMB, Piracy and Armed Robbery Against Ships: Report for the Period 1 January-30 September. Piracy Prone Areas and Warnings, Southeast Asia and Indian Sub-Continent, Essex, UK, 2006, p. 15.
[143] David A. Lake and Patrick M. Morgan, (eds),Regional Orders: Building Security in a New World, University Press, 1997, pp. 3-44.
[144] John F. Murphy, The United States and the Rule of Law in International Affairs, Cambridge University Press, UK, 2004, p. 4, pp. 240-245.
[145] Thomas B. Fargo, Regional Maritime Security Initiative, US Pacific Command MILOPS, Victoria, British Columbia, Military Operations and Law Conference, 3 May 2004; US Government, Testimony of Admiral Thomas B. Fargo, United States Navy Commander US Pacific Command before the House Armed Services Committee US House of Representatives regarding US Pacific Command Posture, 108th Congress, 2nd Session, 31 March 2004.
[146] US Government, Testimony of Admiral Thomas B. Fargo.
[147] Fargo, Regional Maritime Security Initiative.
[148] Fargo, Regional Maritime Security Initiative.
[149] Vijay Sakhuja, ‘Who Will Safeguard the Malacca Straits?’ Observer Research Foundation Strategic Trends, vol. II, issue 30, 2 August 2004; Fargo, Regional Maritime Security Initiative. PSI, SIPS and the ISPS Code referred to more fully in more detail in chapter 6.
[150] Sakhuja, ‘Who Will Safeguard the Malacca Straits?’
[151] SudhaRamachandran, ‘Divisions over terror threat in Malacca Straits’, Asia Times Online, 16 June 2004.
[152] Yoichiro Sato, ‘Strait of Malacca’s Security Reflects Hazy Dividing Line’, Pacific Forum CSIS, Asia Times Online, 14 July 2004; Yoichiro Sato, ‘U.S. and Japan in the Malacca Strait: Lending Hands, Not Stepping In’, Pacific Forum CSIS, PacNet, no. 29A, Honolulu, Hawaii July 12, 2004.
[153] Damon Bristow, ‘The Five-Power Defence Arrangements: Southeast Asia’s unknown Regional Security Organization’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, vol. 27, no. 1, 2005, pp. 1-20.
[154] Bristow, p. 11; Ralf Emmers, ‘The Role of the Five Power Defence Arrangements in the Southeast Asian Security Architecture’, RSIS Working Paper, S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Singapore, no. 5, 20 April 2010, pp. 1-22.
[155] Indonesia has called for the FPDA to be disbanded but as Emmers, 20 April 2010, argues, Indonesian military leaders generally accept the benefits of FPDA military exercises.
[156] Singapore Ministry of Foreign Affairs, The Batam Joint Statement of the 4th Tripartite Ministerial Meeting of the Littoral States on the Straits of Malacca and Singapore, Batam, Indonesia, 1-2 August 2005.
[157] TNI-N Indonesian Navy, ‘The Role of Indonesia to Secure the Strait of Malacca’ (Power Point), Assistant Chief of Staff of the Indonesian Navy for Planning and Budgeting, MILOPS Conference, Thailand, 17-19 July 2006.
[158] IMB, Annual Report, 01 January-31 December, 2005.
[159] ‘China offers help in securing Straits of Malacca and Singapore, Indonesian Defence Minister says’, The China Post, 2 August 2005.
[160] ICC-CCS, Piracy Report, ‘Q32006’ ‘3rd Quarter, 2006.
[161] ‘TNI soldier arrested for Straits of Malacca and Singapore piracy’, Jakarta Post, 4 January 2006.
[162] ‘Pirates May Resume Kidnappings in Strait of Malacca’s, Bureau Says’, Jakarta Post, 13 July 2006.
[163] ‘Security cooperation leads to piracy drop in Strait of Malacca : Indonesia’, Jakarta Post, 26 June 2006.
[164] ‘Indonesia, South Korea To Beef Up Defense Ties’, People’s Daily, 23 January 2006.
[165] ‘RI to buy warships, subs from Russia, Germany’, Jakarta Post, 5 January 2006.
[166] ‘Indonesian leader to visit Russia for Arms Deal’, People’s Daily, 19 January 2006.
[167] David Saw, ‘Naval Developments in 2004–Matters Start to Become Interesting’, Asian Military Review, iss. 8 December-January, 2004, pp. 4-11.
[168] Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency; its indigenous title is: Agensi Penguatkuasaan Maritim Malaysia (APMM).
[169] Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency (MMEA), ‘Background’, Prime Minister’s Department.
[170] Marine Operations Force; its indigenous title is, Pasukan Gerakan Marin.
[171] ‘Force does more than just nab illegals’, New Straits Times, 21 April 2009.
[172] ‘Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency Act 2004’, Laws of Malaysia, Act 633, Commissioner of Law Revision, Malaysia, part1, 2006, pp. 1-17.
[173] Full title since 1993 is, Seri Paduk aBaginda Yang Di-Pertuan Agong.
[174] Sharon Ling, ‘Maritime Agency to have Own Air Unit’, The Star-Online, 16 June 2008.
[175] David Dizon, ‘Drug Cartels Exploiting Weak Border Patrols, Port Security’, ABS-CBN News, 6 June 2008.
[176] Referring to USCG, IMO and IMB representatives.
[177] (Vice Admiral) Dato Mohammad Bin Nik, Welcoming Notes from Director General of MMEA, 2nd Meeeting Head of Coast Guard Agencies Asia, Putrajaya, Malaysia, 20-23 March 2006.
[178] ‘Coastguards adopts Amarsective 2004’, Southchinasea News, 28 June 2004.
[179] Nik, Welcoming Notes.
[180] ‘APMM Assures Security In Melaka Strait-Najib’, Bernama, 21 March 2006.
[181] MMEA, ‘Practical Measures in Combatting Piracy and Robbery at Sea-MMEA Perspective’, 20-23 March 2006.
[182] Nik, Welcoming Notes.
[183] Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, London, Verso, 1983.
[184] Indonesian Navy – Tentara Nasional Indonesia Angkatan Laut, (TNI-AL).
[185] ‘Indonesia fired ‘indiscriminately’ at boat, asylum seeker claims’, Sydney Morning Herald, 15 November 2009.
[186] ‘Indonesian Navy plans fleet expansion’, ABC News, 12 February 2005.
[187] ‘Indonesia Still Needs Another 262 Warships’, Antara News, 17-18 September 2007.
[188] Grotius, Mare Liberum, p. 11a.
[189] UNCLOS, Articles 52, 53, ‘Right of Innocent Passage’.
[190] Shangri-La Dialogue: regular meetings since 2001, and held at the Shangri-La Hotel Singapore since 2002, of minister-level Defence and Security Officials representing Pacific Ring and Asian countries. Participating countries have included: Australia, Brunei, Burma, Cambodia, Canada, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Japan, Laos, Malaysia, Mongolia, New Zealand, Pakistan, People's Republic of China, Philippines, Russia, South Korea, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Thailand, East Timor, United Kingdom, United States and Vietnam.
[191] Xu Ke, ‘The Indonesian New Maritime Security Proposal’, Maritime Monitor, vol. 1, iss. 3, 2007, pp. 13-14.
[192] Jakarta Post, ‘Malacca Strait’.
[193] Jakarta Post, ‘Malacca Strait’.
[194] Office of Naval Intelligence , Civil Maritime Analysis Department, Worldwide Threat To Shipping Mariner Warning Information, 26 December 2007.
[195] ONI, Worldwide Threat, 23 January 2008.
[196] Statement issued by the Conference of Heads of Government of the Caribbean Community at its Thirteenth Special Meeting, 4-5 Apr 2008, Trinidad and Tobago, Caribbean Community (CARICOM) Secretariat.
[197] ‘Singapore, KL, Jakarta Sign Anti-Piracy Pact’, Straits Times, 22 April 2006.
[198] Achataya Chuenniran, ‘Malacca Patrols Start October 1’, Bangkok Post 22 August 2008.
[199] Joyo Indonesia News Service, ‘Malacca Strait much safer from Pirates - Malaysia’, 15 December 2006.
[200] Joyo, ‘Malacca Strait much safer’.
[201] David Pearl, (ed.), ‘Worldwide Threat to Shipping’, Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), 18 April 2007.
[202] ‘Inaugural Malacca Strait Patrols Information Sharing Exercise’ MINDEF News Release, Singapore Ministry of Defence, 28 March 2008.
[203] ‘Pirates on the Run’, Straits Times, 19 May 2009.

Chapter 6: Establishing Legitimacy within MarSec Cooperation

2015-04-06T16:43:00.002-07:00

6.1 Introduction

Concerns about preserving the integrity of territorial sovereignty of the state have been a driving determinant for the way that states have worked together on non-traditional security at sea. A significant determinant of whether states in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia will cooperate to enforce law at sea is whether proposed mechanisms applied a ‘rule of law’. The United Nations Convention on Law of the Sea 1982 (UNCLOS) is primarily a legal regime upon which security cooperation at sea has been based but comprises only one of several forms of international law at sea that have codified norms of state behaviour. Together, the United States and United Nations are significant players in the creation of legitimate regimes of law enforcement at sea within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia.

6.2 Comparing Case Studies

Comparing cases, interactions of states in both regions have clearly included participation in formal arrangements with other regional actors; the differences of method and membership of cooperation suggest change over time as well as varying attitudes towards particular actors. Despite having varying priorities and capacities, states do not appear averse to cooperating on non-traditional security matters but some states in both case studies have cooperated on non-traditional security at sea when the arrangements have satisfied two base conditions. First, a grounding in legal frameworks that have the imprimatur of United Nations conventions, codes or treaties. Second, that maritime security cooperation between international actors is tailored to meet the needs of individual states. Capacity building may also be a significant contributing incentive although it is not always a primary reason why states engage in non-traditional security cooperation.

Regime building helps to explain such behaviour. Actors have sought agreement on the norms and expectations by which they have agreed to abide, unburdened by Cold War priorities and bi-polarised global security structures. Some Caribbean states agreed to arrangements grounded in rule of law principles, and encompassing agreed rules and accepted norms. Within the Caribbean during the 1990s, Caribbean states accepted that the United States’ non-traditional security interests aligned with their own national security objectives––to reduce the prevalence of narcotics smuggling and the violence and corruption with which it had become associated. Within Southeast Asia, a regime of law enforcement at sea enabled states to overcome their differences by identifying with mutual internal and external security threats (crime and violence) at sea. Inasmuch as the United States was able to reinforce its own interests in the Caribbean because they coincided to a significant degree with the interests of other actors within the same region, it still did not realise a similar outcome within Southeast Asia during the period of anti-terrorism securitisation, following the events of 9/11. Bilateral arrangements to enforce law at sea permitted a number of Caribbean states to retain options; to make decisions about the type of legal structures they required to protect their non-traditional security interests at sea.

However, the Caribbean bilateral agreements did not make concessions to the national interests and priorities of other actors within the region. This was made apparent when the later proposal for a multilateral mechanism resulted in reluctance by many Caribbean states, though already party to the bilateral agreements, to make further concessions beyond those contained within the existing arrangements. This appears to signify that cooperation was limited and specific as far as enforcing law at sea is concerned. The Caribbean agreements were neither strategic military arrangements between states, nor an unconditional permit for the United States to conduct law enforcement within individual Caribbean state territories. What they did was to clarify the permission seeking procedures that United States marine authorities should follow.

This perspective ‘fits’ the experiences of the key Southeast Asian states, Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand, who were able to coordinate amongst themselves and from a realist perspective, were significant managers of security cooperation within this regional system of states. Key Southeast Asian states made the decision to coordinate with other regional actors because all of the actors faced a similar maritime security dilemma. They either must cooperate with each other on a sensitive regional security issue, or allow external states to take the initiative and provide the type of security within the Malacca and Singapore Straits that suited their needs. External management of security presented an inherent risk to the integrity of territorial sovereignty. The first option avoided the pressure of external actors, in particular the United States. The second option risked some loss of decision-making ability about the conduct of maritime security within the Malacca and Singapore Straits. Within the Caribbean Sea, the United States initiated a means to enforce law at sea through conjoining security interests and international law based upon the United States’ advocacy of rule of law. Therefore, this liaison of United Nations legitimacy and United States principles has been an important means to build confidence and influence behaviour.

Without conceding territorial rights, states in Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions retained decision-making control, adapted coordination of effort and limited capacities to meet perceived national interests and requirements. Law enforcement practice within the Caribbean facilitated inter-operability of external and domestic marine authorities operating proximate to maritime borders. Before the coordinated patrols and information sharing in the Caribbean Sea, there had been delays in seeking permission providing a loophole in practice that suspects exploited by using the delay to flee across maritime borders. However, despite the efficacy of this approach, Southeast Asia’s law enforcement, cooperation strategy at sea did not allow cross-border pursuits, opting instead for coordinated patrols and information sharing arrangements. Marine authorities remained outside the territorial sea of neighbouring states. Where there was cooperation in Southeast Asia, authorities communicated information through improved intelligence sharing. Rather than allowing authorities to cross into neighbouring territories, states opted to increase the information flow and track suspects electronically. The Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia (ReCAAP) Information Sharing Centre became a key component of this concept, because electronic surveillance data could flow across borders, informing neighbouring state authorities without compromising the integrity of their sovereignty. Although the system required a high degree of trust that action is taken against suspected vessels, the arrangement was in keeping with ASEAN values of non-interference that defines all regional cooperation. ReCAAP Information Sharing Centre therefore was not an obstruction to confidence building between states. It offered a means of information dissemination and threat analysis whilst allowing governments to manage their own security without being managed by peer states.

Within Southeast Asia, states deemed the risk of avoiding cross-border pursuits (if no follow-up action was taken) as acceptable, whereas in the Caribbean, bilateral arrangements between the United States and individual states indicated a higher degree of trust. The six-part bilateral agreements allowed entry of USCG vessels and personnel entry because of permission-seeking arrangements. The implications of cross-border pursuits presented an issue typical of similar problems of jurisdiction when police pursue suspects across jurisdictional borders on land; police from different states (or counties) must have arrangements in place to enable pursuit of suspects to continue across frontiers. Territorial sovereignty carries a mutual understanding that naval or policing authorities do not carry power to act rights within states that are not their home-states, even though permitted to enter other states when prior permission arrangements are in place. Consequently, maritime law enforcement, security mechanisms such as the bilateral agreements in the Caribbean, and the Malacca Straits Security Patrols MSSPs in Southeast Asia, sought to promote law enforcement coordination between states that lie proximate to other states in order to avoid impeding pursuit of suspects. States were willing to coordinate law enforcement at sea because this minimised the potential for political misunderstandings or conflict. Recognising the need for states within the Caribbean region to address problems of governance ashore, the United States sought to strengthen law enforcement in border regions in a bottom-up negotiation whereby the USCG provided a diplomatic avenue of negotiation. This contrasts with the top-down approach, when the United States proposed what appeared to be a strategic naval initiative in the RMSI.

A combination of factors brought closer a potential transfer of regional security management to external actors. Accusations by external states suggested external military forces. The littoral states along the Malacca and Singapore Straits were responsible for the security within their territorial seas, and the international sea-routes that passed through them. Reports by the International Maritime Bureau (IMB) Piracy Reporting Centre of increasing pirate attacks and the war-risk assessment by Lloyd’s of London, led to the three key states within Southeast Asia seeking to avoid a possible externally controlled solution. Increasing information sharing through ReCAAP ISC and maritime security coordination through the MSSPs patrols mitigated the sense that states lay idle and indifferent to the security responsibilities that they had agreed to by signing the United Nations Convention on Law of the Sea 1982 (UNCLOS).

Caribbean states had limited options when considering the bilateral maritime agreements with the United States, regardless of whether they had signed UNCLOS. Some island states within the Caribbean Sea simply did not have the capacity to patrol or police vast offshore areas and could enforce law only within a narrow band of territorial sea. Similarly, a lack of capacity also limited the level of participation of states along the Malacca and Singapore Straits, particularly Indonesia. Caribbean states have in the past also had limited capacity to patrol beyond their own littoral, and consequently, their motivation to align with United States interests was the potential for both capacity-building and a reduction of violence onshore. In some ways, the rejection of wide-participatory arrangements in Southeast Asia bears similarities with Caribbean states who continue to avoid a multilateral version of the many existing bilateral maritime security arrangements. A low level of interest in the CRMA, less than five states willing to sign the agreement, indicated that states would not accept inevitable concessions to the needs of multiple regional actors. In a way, the Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement (CRMA) proposal elicited reluctance by states to change existing arrangements. Directly negotiating with one partner state in order to reap the benefits of increased capacity had been acceptable, albeit with a general wariness of trying to fix something that still functioned.

In Southeast Asia, states accepted that piracy at sea against ships was a clearly defined crime, involving violence and attracting external interest. It was therefore a problem directly or indirectly affecting political decision-making. A politically acceptable solution to maritime security was only one of many problems confronting the Southeast Asian straits states. UNCLOS and IMB definitions of piracy at sea and armed robbery at sea clarified the legal scope for enforcing counter-piracy at sea laws, but settling on terms by which patrols and information could be coordinated, without conceding the integrity of territorial sovereignty, was critical. This occurred in Southeast Asia by ensuring that states had the capacity to set goals and meet responsibilities.

Within both the Caribbean Sea and Southeast Asia, national interest and physical capacity shaped the level of security cooperation between states. Political as well as practical objectives defined the scope of operational deployments. Coordination of capabilities was the most likely outcome of cooperation as it was least likely to threaten the integrity of territorial sovereignty of individual states. The interests and perspectives of the participating states therefore defined the actual operation of law enforcement in maritime border regions. C.R. Mitchell’s definition of conflict resolution helps to illustrate the metaphor. Mitchell argues that the process of working toward the ‘elimination and termination’ of conflict ‘addresses underlying causes’ whereas ‘conflict management’ only seeks to reduce and hold in check the violence without actually eradicating its root causes.[1]

As demonstrated in Chapter Two, regime theory informs us that states cooperate and form security regimes when states agree to abide by rules and norms of behaviour because they believe that other states who participate in an arrangement will act in the same way. In Southeast Asia, notably Lloyd’s of London portrayed pirate attacks as the region’s most significant maritime crimes because pirates targeted international merchant shipping. Piracy was more significant for its economic affect than any concerns about the perpetrators or underlying reasons for their behaviour. Therefore, national interest and attitudes about the intentions of other states were significant factors in determining when states cooperated on security matters than the actual threat or its underlying causes.

Actor attitudes played a significant role in the way that states inter-related, determining accepted norms and principles of cooperation. On the one hand, the observation that external powers (in particular the United States but also other actors) unduly exerted influence challenged international acceptance of the territorial sovereignty of states. On the other hand is the observation that while some states benefited from increased law enforcement capacity, disproportionate costs compared to benefits and the ability of states to decide outcomes may limit the appeal of cooperation. Southeast Asian actors weighed the cost and threat of criminal activity at sea against the ‘cost’ to the integrity of national interests if they did take action, or if they did nothing. Within the jurisdiction of a littoral state, maintaining stable regional relations weighs against the provision of security for maritime users together with how it is alleged to affect the sovereignty of the state. As mentioned elsewhere, although security at sea is the responsibility of the territorial state, especially in international straits through territorial seas, such as the Malacca and Singapore Straits, to suggest an inability of a state to manage crime occurring in proximity to its territories or within its areas of responsibility has challenged capacity of state authorities to provide internal security. Therefore, whether through political indifference or fear of external interference or lack of capacity – possibly one a consequence of the other – the paucity of maritime security within state territories reflects a regional reluctance to address security problems through cooperative means outside domestic state laws and jurisdictions (effectively, to seaward of the territorial sea). International demands for improvements to law enforcement in Southeast Asia suggest that inadequacies existed, such as increasing piracy at sea, allowing the states to adapt to threats to sovereignty and regional security by modifying regional norms of non-interference.

The approach of states within the Caribbean differed to those of Southeast Asian states because portrayal of crime and violence at sea in each region varied, affecting actors in dissimilar ways. Pirate attacks in Southeast Asia have been crimes affecting ships and crews of external states, its victims often external to the region in which the crimes occurred. Narcotics trafficking in the Caribbean Sea, on the other hand, supported violence and crime within coastal microstates and the United States mainland, attracting regular media interest – it has been visible, its interdicted narcotics often depicted in photographs. Whereas this visual portrayal indirectly affected public and political attitudes of Caribbean governments, piracy at sea in Southeast Asia has been covert; a crime at sea that lacks spectacular imagery and therefore is underreported in various media. Unlike piracy, hijacking and hostage taking off Somalia, where media has played a part in public awareness, the violence of crime within and proximate to coastal Malacca and Singapore Straits littorals was a low profile issue, allowing it to become officially non-prioritised and officially regarded as an overstated threat.

6.3 Sovereignty and Self-interest

Legitimacy

Purpose and perspective have intertwined beyond the concept stage of law enforcement cooperation and have ultimately shaped security cooperation between states in its wider sense. A roadmap legitimacy of norms and conventions of behaviour at sea, UNCLOS regime has not translated into wide acceptance of the CRMA, or widening the MSSPs into a more regionally inclusive program. As it is not a regime due to its limited membership, it is an agreement on the ways that security coordination will occur and is therefore a basis for regime building. Processes of negotiation over time have built upon bilateral and multilateral agreements such as the shiprider and RSS agreements in the Caribbean and ReCAAP and the MSSPs agreements in Southeast Asia. Negotiations in the Caribbean Sea and Southeast Asia have been dynamic, but on-going maintenance through negotiation and review between signatories and reassessment of what the agreements are trying to achieve would continue to be inclusive of national interests, priorities and capacities of participating states.

Yet, because liberalists challenge realist’s assumptions regarding the norms of cooperation behaviour between actors in the international system of states, it is within assumptions about legitimacy that the Caribbean experience differs to Southeast Asia. States in the Caribbean cooperated with the United States as a world power because its security interests appeared legitimate. This was not the case in Southeast Asia and this raises the question of legitimacy of a United States-led ‘war on terror’. Definitions of ‘terrorism’ as a political or socially driven crime do not include piracy at sea, and did not include it even after 9/11. The assumption that is not excluded from these definitions even though by definition, acts of piracy at sea includes terror. This is a redefinition of security that incorporates acts against the state, rather than individual or private commercial interests, such as vessels and crew. In Southeast Asia, military and police were authorities of the Malacca and Singapore straits states who eventually were willing to act against piracy but avoid wider securitization issues, such as a ‘war on terror’. In a ‘security continuum’, all strata of armed responding authorities target non-state criminal activities by means of flexible rather than strictly military or policing approaches.[2] Terrorism is a threat to the state but its definitions leaves room for interpretation as to the flexibility of response that Fort advocates.[3] For the United States Department of Defense (DoD), terrorism is a ‘calculated use of unlawful violence or threat of unlawful violence to inculcate fear; intended to coerce or to intimidate governments or societies in the pursuit of goals that are generally political, religious, or ideological.’[4] The United States Department of Justice (DoJ) is less specific, defining terrorism as ‘the unlawful use of force and violence against persons or property to intimidate or coerce a government, the civilian population, or any segment thereof, in furtherance of political or social objectives.’[5] Whereas ‘social objectives’ refers to changes to the function of society, terrorism in both definitions is an attack against the state. Caribbean and Southeast Asian states have cooperated through bilateral and multilateral maritime security arrangements whose international institutions form the legal basis for cooperation mechanisms, and support liberal ideals of community and institutionalism. The state creates the appropriate regulatory frameworks and institutions by which to change society for the better, so that terrorism is one means to a ‘social objective’.[6]

In a regional sense, agreements between states for the provision of security at sea form the basis for regional security regime building, if the terms of the agreement become law, are enforced, and become normalised. Maritime law enforcement has been a sensitive subject for governments; when criminal activity at sea that involves violence occurs, the perception of threat to the national interests of each actor within a region has been a determinant for cooperation. The authority of less powerful Caribbean and Southeast Asian actors has been strengthened when they have endeavoured to show independence in their decision-making, self-help through interacting with neighbours, and initiative in leadership.

For cooperation to occur between states in the Caribbean and in Southeast Asia, states needed to be confident of a convergence of interests. Existing converging interests include trade interdependency, a need for security as a common regional concern, and prior regional confidence building alliances between actors.[7] An agreement or treaty indicating that states with converging interests are sometimes willing to cooperate to achieve certain outcomes provides a basis for international order.[8] Duncan Snidal and Kenneth Abbott deems international agreements effective only when the outcomes are a result of meeting three changes in the way that states conduct their affairs. This requires firstly, that agreements include details of how actor’s behaviour requires modifications; secondly, that actors of consequence to the outcome of agreements participate in the arrangements; and thirdly, that actors consider that changes to their behaviour will be necessary if they are to participate in agreements.

Without these principals, agreements will have no real consequence and cooperation will have no real and enduring basis.[9] Caribbean states would appear to have met each of these requirements, each actor was able to negotiate on the modifications to its behaviour; this was made easier with only two participants in bilateral agreements. In Southeast Asia, only certain regional actors were participants, although the arrangements only minimally changed behaviour because the participants opted for coordinating activity rather than cross-border permission that Caribbean arrangements entailed.

Cooperation, Sovereignty and Legitimacy

Sovereignty and law have been central tenets around which Caribbean and Southeast Asian states have been able to resist pressure from powerful states who no longer can legitimately claim to be pursuing their strategic security aims in the interest of others. Powerful states, such as the United States, when intent on persuasive influence over smaller states and regional interests have long sought legal arguments to defend their behaviour. Historically, one of the most prominent legal theoreticians was Hugo Grotius, whose concepts of sovereignty and ownership founded the rights of states within maritime realms. At that time, development of laws peculiar to seafaring depended upon interpretations by states seeking to retain command of ocean territories. Although international disputes and conflict occurred at sea, no state had sovereignty –that is, legal ownership and control - over the oceans.[10] In his opus, ‘Freedom of the Seas’ (Mare Liberum, 1608), Grotius sought to establish the power of colonial rule but fundamentally provided a basis for modern law of the sea. Sovereignty was a tool by which dominant powers excluded rival states; denying access through law to protect acquired territories. For Grotius, ‘high seas’ were firstly, the property of no one (res nullius); secondly, a common possession (res communis); and thirdly, public property (res publica). Therefore, sovereignty was viewed as ownership of waterways and maritime regions, a means of exclusion.[11] In the post-Cold War era, as the veil of bi-polarity is lifted, states retain the legal benefits of sovereignty, and the ability to defend the integrity of territorial possessions.

Given the task of elaborating his principle of the freedom of the seas in a brief on the Law of Prize submitted on behalf of the Dutch East India Company, Grotius was arguing that the seas could not be owned, and established a legal principle of high seas rights.[12] Grotius was aiming to justify the capture of a Portuguese galleon (Saint Catherine) by a company vessel that occurred in the Straits of Malacca in 1603. States could not individually or collectively acquire high seas areas by occupation since they are the ‘common heritage of all states’ (res communisomnium), or ‘of common heritage’ (res extra commercium) but overseen by a governing body. The United Nations might well be a governing body that Grotius intended, as it has been the principle forum for determining international maritime law from customary practice.[13]

Law of the sea was a useful peacetime set of rules to guide the rights of states at sea, to set limitations on proprietorship of marine territories, and give equal weight to the rights of smaller and larger states. A letter from the Duke of Normandy to the King of Prussia’s Secretary of the London Embassy in 1753 proclaimed that protection under law of cargo-carrying vessels on the high seas would not extend to ships that carried goods that would support a belligerent’s war efforts. Neutrality was, and has remained, conditional on the type and destination of a vessel’s cargo, especially in times of conflict but also in times of uncertainty.[14] In the same era that Grotius made his legal arguments, other opinions on law at sea were leading towards similar conclusions. Russia affirmed similar principles in diplomatic correspondence in 1587 with England, that the sea is a road made by God, and England’s Elizabeth I in 1602 defended Sir Francis Drake regarding his legal piracy at sea when challenged by Spain. However, in 1613, Scottish lawyer William Welwood contested Grotius arguments. In his book, Sealaws of Scotland, titled ‘The Community and Propriety of the Seas’, Welwood argues that the Roman law that Grotius refers to––res communisomnium––of common heritage - applied only to Romans; that is, the concept of ‘freedom’ did not apply to contemporary states. John Selden concurs with Welwood, and appears to refute Grotius’ arguments. In, The Closed Sea or Two Books Concerning the Rule over the Sea (Mare Clausum, seu de Dominio Maris Libri Duo (1635), Seldon put forward the idea that the world’s oceans should be appropriated by and divided among states or naval powers.

Despite some opposition to Grotius’ position, law of the sea limited the extent to which powerful states could claim vast ocean regions and this has implications today. Even though the states currently claim commercial interests in the seabed, powerful states manage security interests on the high seas rather than staking claims to international seas. David Moran points out that even Christopher Columbus, who landed inadvertently on what is today North America, undertook his voyage for commercial gain more than scientific motives, on behalf of his royal patrons. In that instance, questions were raised about ownership of the discovered new lands and the seas that surrounded them.[15]

A notable legacy of Grotius is the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). Grotius’ implied spirit of mutual use of the sea is enshrined within the preamble of UNCLOS, where basic principles for a practical and equitable use of the seas are declared aims: ‘a spirit of mutual understanding and cooperation … [contributing] to the strengthening of … security and cooperation’.[16] Additionally, Article 197 declares that states should use international organisations in order to ‘co-operate on a global basis and, as appropriate, on a regional basis’ when ‘formulating and elaborating international rules, standards and recommended practices and procedures consistent with this Convention … taking into account characteristic regional features’.[17] UNCLOS also allows participating states to opt out of adhering to the letter of the Convention, especially where there are military disputes, whilst still using the provisions of the Convention to protect territorial sovereignty.[18] UNCLOS has been more controversial, and where most contradictions have arisen is in its development and use by the United States as a legal means upon which to base cooperation between nations at sea on security matters.

Whilst an exhaustive examination of UNCLOS is beyond the scope of this thesis, a brief summation of its development will clarify its relationship with the United States as a tool of influence and legitimacy in international agreement making. Although the United States initiated the codification of the law of the sea, other states could see negligence of duty; as a dominating global power the United States fails to lend its imprimatur by upholding the principles of ‘rule of law’ by delaying formal acceptance of UNCLOS.[19] This seems at odds with the United States role in initiating maritime law enforcement agreements. Reluctance on the part of the United States to ratify international agreements that do not neatly match national interests, suggests an antagonism toward international law generally, and that the United States continues prioritising its own national interests.[20]

Achieving consensus between states on maritime security issues has been problematic; the complexity of codifying a large body of customary law was illustrated by the lengthy development of law of the sea.[21] The first conference held at Geneva from 24 February to 27 April 1958, clarified for wider international acceptance, a codified form of laws previously accepted widely as customary practice. The Geneva Convention on the High Seas 1958 (High Seas Convention) was accepted maritime practice, and as a legal doctrine its 37 Articles broadly covered aspects of maritime practice. Although it did not specifically address law enforcement at sea, it could be used for resolution of disputes that involved practices stemming from policing at sea. Consisting of codified customary law, its set of conventions provided the basis for the third United Nations Conference on Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), held from 1973 to 1982. Therefore, UNCLOS replaced the 1958 Law of the Sea treaties (also based on customary practice) and clarified the rights, rules and regulatory measures applicable to the behaviour of all state and non-state actors who use the sea. Articles 14 to 21 referred directly to piracy at

sea against ships and Articles 22 and 23 refer to interception of ships, including those suspected of piracy at sea, and to the rights and limitations of ‘hot pursuit’.[22]

Hot pursuit activity potentially challenges a state’s authority over its own territories because in its maritime context, hot pursuit refers to the pursuit by authorities of suspected vessels across political boundaries.[23] Each state is responsible for policing its home territorial waters according to international law but it is unable to do so within the territorial waters of other states without prior permission. To a certain extent, and in the absence of clear guidelines and agreements with other states, the high seas (international waters) have also been beyond the jurisdiction of maritime state law enforcement. Therefore the provision of prior agreements between states, such as decisions about whether foreign authorities can pursue suspect vessels into the territory of other states, known as a ‘hot pursuit’, or who should be able to arrest suspects, has been crucial, and relied upon states cooperating to overcome the complex legal and political hurdles. To facilitate some clarity on this aspect of enforcing law at sea, UNCLOS Part VI, Article 111 (Right of Hot Pursuit) clearly lays out the rules of engagement for law enforcers pursuing suspects into a state that is not their home state. This reinforces a rule of law principle; that sovereignty must be respected regardless of the reasons behind incursions by marine authorities.[24]It might be expected that the United States would have supported UNCLOS’rule of law principles, thereby adding to its legality but slow adoption of the convention through ratification suggests otherwise.

Although the United States was instrumental in the codification of UNCLOS and has been willing to abide by most of its conventions, its official reluctance to adopt all of its provisions underscores the contradictory nature of its actions in seeking to legitimately bind nations to other mechanisms that require security cooperation at sea. Under President Richard M. Nixon, the United States promoted codification of the law of the sea, based on existing customary law in a 23 May 1970 statement on oceans policy. The United Nations Law of the Sea Convention (UNCLOS) held from December 1973 until December 1982 raised concerns about claims to resources in international offshore areas. Developing states desired to protect resource access beyond national jurisdiction, whereas national and multinational corporations within the United States sought legal backing for deep-sea mining. Under President Ronald Reagan’s administration, concern about the lack of protection for deep seabed mining under UNCLOS but agreement that the United States should abide by the convention (without ratification) until the deep-sea mining issue (part XI of the convention) was resolved, meant that the issue was in limbo. Under United States President George H.W. Bush, amendments to the agreement appeared in UNCLOS in 1994.[25] Bush argued that the Convention would serve United States national interests, including the maritime mobility of its armed forces, secure United States sovereign rights over extensive marine resources, and crucially, give the United States a seat at the table when ‘the rights that are vital to ... [United States] … interests are debated and interpreted.’[26] Nevertheless, the treaty was still not ratified although the United States signed the UNCLOS agreement on 29 July of that year; both the 1982 and 1994 Conventions were sent to the United States Senate in October 1994; and, two Senate hearings on UNCLOS in October 2003 and February 2004, leading to its approval by a Senate review committee. By January 2009, United States Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton made the issue a priority but again, UNCLOS was not passed into force. Therefore, although the United States had been actively discussing UNCLOS, supported its ratification, and intended to adhere to the Convention’s implementations, its reluctance to bring this body of rules, principles and procedures into force did little to strengthen international confidence when later security at sea mechanisms were proposed.[27]

Despite this, UNCLOS did gain the imprimatur of almost all other states internationally, as well as continuing support with the United States government. The convention allowed for flexibility in the rate that states ratified it and regarding the options for states to opt out of its conventions, so that by 31 October 2007, 155 states had signed and ratified the treaty. The 2007 Senate Committee Foreign Relations report described UNCLOS as ‘a jurisdictional regime for the world’s oceans’.[28] The report supported ratification of UNCLOS, noting the mediating aspect of the Convention as it displays a careful equilibrium between the international community interests, which are to maintain freedom of navigation, and the concerns of states regarding coastal areas. In his examination of the development of UNCLOS, Budislav Vukas - a judge at the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in Hamburg - went further. Vukas described UNCLOS as the most far-reaching and multifaceted treaty ever concluded, with many interesting solutions.[29]

In line with other international ‘law’, Article 108 of UNCLOS urges international cooperation but such action is a prerogative of states. For example when Singapore, through the International Criminal Court of Justice, sought to claim a 12 nautical mile[30] territorial sea and an exclusive economic zone (EEZ) around Pedra Branca in July 2008, the Malaysian Foreign Minister, Datuk Seri Dr Rais Yatim, pointed to both the spirit of solidarity and understanding of membership to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), and also to the provisions within UNCLOS.[31]

Dissimilar Cooperation Outcomes

It is clear that security cooperation at sea, through dissimilar means, achieved effective outcomes amongst some Caribbean and some Southeast Asia states. At a glance, both regions have characteristics that make them suitable from which to draw conclusions about the changing nature of security at sea geographically. Both are archipelagos containing a great diversity of small and medium sized states with various economic and strategic relationships and territorial claims. Significant differences are apparent in the way that states cooperated to improve security at sea. In both cases, the United States was present as an actor of significant influence, seeking to initiate a response to its own national security needs.

In each region, the influence of United States involvement differed; nevertheless, it prompted regional states to take action that they might not otherwise have taken were the United States not involved. In the Caribbean, states small and large had a common security concern in narcotics smuggling. In Southeast Asia, the attitude to piracy at sea varied and it was not until the projection of the war on terror as an imperative by the United States that piracy at sea became the vehicle for cooperation. Therefore, cooperation was conditional upon all actors seeking to overcome a threat that was common to their collective national interests. Certain Caribbean actors concluded that self-interest coincided with community interests, although poor support for multilateralism indicated that it was not necessary that every state cooperated with other states in the region.

Since the end of the Cold War, through the 1990s and into the first decade of the 21st Century, the United States offered practical maritime law enforcement and capacity building support to both Caribbean and Southeast Asian actors.[32] The provision of an increased patrolling presence of United States Coast Guard (USCG) vessels and aircraft for surveillance was something sorely needed by states in both the Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions, who had limited resources to provide security within their own territorial seas or maritime border zones.[33] It made sense that Caribbean states would take up the offer and sign the one-on-one, bilateral agreements with the United States. Rejection of similar support in Southeast Asia due to inadequate consultations and/or misunderstood intentions during an anti-terror campaign that targeted a major cultural group, illustrated the problematic nature of cooperation when confidence in the actors intentions is low.

Although the influence of the United States was clearly a common denominator in security cooperation at sea in both cases, despite its initial failure as an accepted security partner in Southeast Asia, the success of American engagements is its focus on maritime law enforcement. Despite the apparent self-interest of states, supporting neo-realist perspectives that states will seek relative gains, regional groups of actors indicated a willingness to cooperate on security issues when formal arrangements have had the imprimatur of United Nations conventions. Bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements between the USCG and Caribbean maritime states, based on the legal framework of the 1988 United Nations Drugs Convention meant that Caribbean states could participate in bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements with the United States, because these arrangements aligned with their national security interests. Southeast Asian states preferred to take responsibility and retain control of the way that law enforcement at sea is coordinated even though their interests still aligned with the intent of the United States. Consequently, due to reluctance to accept the United States as a security partner on a specific issue, Southeast Asian states indicated a shift away from automatic reliance on major power participation. Although the three states with the most interest in the Malacca and Singapore Straits avoided a partnership with the United States, rejection of RMSI prompted other forms of cooperation, such as Eyes-in the Skies, and Malacca Straits Security Patrols (MSSPs). Therefore, the national security interests of specific regional states (Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore) aligned regarding a specific area of concern (Straits of Malacca), on a specific threat (piracy at sea), with agreement on a specific scope of action (security coordination).

America’s ‘Rule of Law’

As the United States has sought to confirm the legitimacy of its actions within the United Nations regarding Gulf War, Afghanistan, and Iraq conflicts with varied success, this has created questions about the international image that the United States projects. Although, as pointed out in Chapter Two, states will cooperate if they have national interests in common to other actors, and this can form the basis for regime formation, ultimately the power to make decisions about security cooperation remains with the state.[34] Perplexingly, even when the United States has used the imprimatur of the United Nations to project power when invading Afghanistan and Iraq, it has avoided encroaching on the sovereignty of other states with which it sought a security coalition.

Nevertheless, for states to feel confident that the international system provides them some measure of protection, even from interference by the interests and power of American hegemony, is the concept of territorial sovereignty of the state. Within the Caribbean during the Cold War period, sovereignty was under-prioritised, since the United States was willing to invade countries to varying degrees–from Cuba to Granada. In the post-Cold War era, the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan undermined the confidence of states in Southeast Asia; evidence of this was that cooperation with the United States on its Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI) faltered at a time when ‘war on terror’ was reinterpreted as a cultural and religious war, challenging the religious underpinnings of political support. As apparent de facto judge and jury of events taking place in the post-Cold War era, the behaviour of the United States in the Middle East after 9/11 implied that sovereignty, and rule of law were determined by national interest, power and hegemony rather than ubiquitous objectivity. Military excursions by the United States tested previous presumptions; in Southeast Asia the behaviour of the United States jeopardised its own position as a proponent of ‘rule of law’, in a way that had not been considered by Caribbean states during the 1990s.

Although the term, ‘sovereignty of states’ is arguably centred on centralised authority, within defined political borders and international recognition, the intent of sovereignty has significantly shaped the way that states have responded to non-traditional maritime security cooperation within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia. Protections afforded to states under international law, in the post-Cold War era have functioned to legally restrain the political influence of external states. Territorial sovereignty establishes state authority over territorial waters, and a legal recourse to dispute resolution, allowing states to choose with whom they cooperate to enforce security at sea.

Historically, during and prior to the Cold War, the territorial sovereignty of international actors globally (not all of whom were sovereign independent states) had been subsumed in wider security interests. Mistrust of external powers and their interests was reminiscent of colonialism; it was a force both malignant and benign.[35] In 1931, Arnold Toynbee stated that Britain sought to deny colonial territories any sovereign rights, wresting the ‘mysterious political force called sovereignty out of the clutches of the local national states’ but all the while upholding sovereignty as a foundation of European nation-states - ‘denying with our lips what we are doing with our hands.’[36] In contrast to Toynbee’s early colonial antagonism toward the independence of states, contemporary sovereignty symbolises self-rule, recognition of no higher over-arching power, and a central governing authority.[37] In the beginning of the twenty-first century, in the wake of the events of 11 September 2001 (9/11), the United States, when led by realists and in the absence of major competition, enjoyed almost unlimited power reminiscent of earlier colonial empire building.[38] Problematic engagement and intervention strategies by the United States after 9/11 raised the question of its allocation of power and whether the concept of sovereignty of states was in jeopardy.[39] This behaviour undermined sovereignty elsewhere, (as in Iraq), dismissing its relevance while jeopardising the position of the United States as an upholder of the concept of ‘rule of law’. Over the course of history, states have always been subject to external influences, although the United States has been powerful enough to avoid the exclusionism that they practised on others. Despite the actions of the United States, and perhaps the sentiments of former Secretary-General of the United Nations, Kofi Anan, contemporary sovereignty has come to enshrine the principle of non-intervention in the internal, political decision-making and judicial direction of states by other states or representatives. This reinforces post-Cold War era recognition of the state as an independent and autonomous executive of power, where its citizens are free to choose their own form of government.[40] Cooperation between states advances development of trust over time, strengthening each state’s sovereignty.[41] It has therefore been essential that a respect for sovereignty in the Caribbean and in Southeast Asia is evident in the way that such a powerful external actor as the United States conducts its own foreign policy affairs.

Prior to 9/11, the bilateral agreements between the United States and various Caribbean states supported a respect for territorial sovereignty and rule of law. Conventions, codes and treaties created within the United Nations (in particular, the UN Drugs Convention) formed the legal framework for making agreements to enforce the rule of law at sea. The long established relationship between power, sovereignty and law that was an integral aspect of a functioning international system of states was intact and perhaps strengthened when Cold War divisions dissolved. After 9/11, actor confidence that had been attributable to established, ubiquitous, internationally accepted principles was arguably shaky once the unilateral power of the United States was on display during the Administration of United States President George W. Bush.

Sovereignty needs the support of rule of law, a long established connect between the state and its independence. It was Grotius who first situated sovereignty as an aspect of law; Jeremy Bentham (1748-1842) who connected the interests of the state with the interests and welfare of other international actors; together establishing principles of morality and legitimacy in international relations.[42] For 18th and 19th century mainstream German theorists, sovereignty was a basis for nationhood.[43] For the realists in Washington DC in the 21st century, morality became a product of political struggle, not its basis. By applying expediency and power, recognisable rules were in a sense perverted, so that justice became simply a matter of moral perspective without any universal truth in the international politics of the Bush administration.[44]

This behaviour threatened to undermine confidence within Southeast Asia, in a way that it had not in the Caribbean during the 1990s. Caribbean and Southeast Asian states sought to protect their sovereign independence but still sought different forms of maritime security cooperation. Sovereignty provided a legal means to shape the type of stability and peace sought by states in Southeast Asia. The likelihood of creating a security regime at sea was unlikely without regional stability and peace.[45] Within a stable system, ‘sovereign’ states are recognised and have juridical independence, with territorial entities having the right to decide freely which agreements or treaties they will enter into, these actors do not therefore intervene in each other’s internal affairs.[46] To enhance sovereignty, states can work together in multilateral negotiation with other actors who also seek mutual benefit; all actors agree to principles, rules and procedures for enhancing security cooperation, conceding a degree of absolute authority in exchange for enhanced capacity. Interventions in Cambodia, Haiti, Somalia and Iraq, as well as the introduction of the international tribunals and the International Criminal Court (ICC), paint sovereignty as a less certain form of protection against interference.[47]

United Nations Redefinition of Sovereignty

The concept of sovereignty of the state did not suffer from the use of international law in the bilateral agreements between the United States and Caribbean states. This was confirmed when Caribbean states supported agreements based on a section of the UN Drugs Convention (1988), together with law of the sea (UNCLOS), as the basis for the bi-lateral, Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreements (CRMA) with the United States. The UN Drugs Convention is an international agreement to counter a common threat and facilitate law enforcement on land, sea and air. Transnational organised drug trafficking in narcotics that during the 1970s and 1980s, was a divisive but dynamic political regional issue. This threat is peripheral to the main thesis topic but due to subjugation by states to what Alex Klein refers to as an ‘expanding international control regime for illicit drugs’, the UN Drugs Convention did create a solid legal structure that articulated measure available for enforcing law at sea.[48] States globally sought international agreement on ways to counter illicit drug trafficking and the Drugs Convention provided legitimacy through its wide acceptance. Within the Caribbean, at least, states participating in bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements with the United States indicated less inclination for multilateralism security based on the same anti-drugs regime, even though the existing bilateral agreements remained intact.[49]

Caribbean states that did agree to participate indicated that cooperation was not going to impose on their sovereignty, despite arguments about the intent of the United Nations in the post-Cold War era. Despite its historiography, the concept of Sovereignty arguably presents an obstacle to the United Nations’ own goals of increasing its international influence. In 1999, United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan declared a redefinition of state sovereignty, in its most basic sense. Anan saw traditional concepts of sovereignty (particularly authority) as an obstacle to the goals and purpose of the United Nations, from where the bulk of international law originates.[50] For some, this criticism of sovereignty led to a belief that the purpose of the United Nations is to ultimately becoming a world power.[51] It also reaffirmed that sovereignty continued to be useful protective mechanism that allowed states to make their own decisions about security partners. Despite the heightened security focus after 9/11, and despite rejecting the United States’ RMSI initiative, Southeast Asia’s ‘straits states’, Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore, still indicated a respect for the international law of the sea conventions ensconced within UNCLOS, even though they had not subscribed to RMSI’s proposed format or membership.

A Legal Basis for Cooperation

International law involves legal interactions between states that remain independent of a state’s own municipal laws. Although the United States own federal anti-drug laws have been the basis for the United States Coast Guard (USCG) and US State Department’s ‘war on drugs’ in the Caribbean, these laws did not apply within the territories of Caribbean States, except where agreement had been made through bilateral agreement. The judicial system of international law does not rely on state based instruments of law or governance, although the various mechanisms of international law derive from states who determine rules, principles, and processes of international law from reference to other sources and mechanisms.[52] The Oxford English Dictionary defines international law as the interests in common between states, bound by a common rule of agreement or custom, and opposed to municipal law.[53] International law in this definition is therefore an agreement to abide by rules that protect the rights of states. For example, UNCLOS codifies customary practise and legitimises the power of the state, including the right of self-defence, and is a creation of international consensus. International law facilitates development of relationships amongst states, all of whom possess equally autonomous authority.[54] Human society is the foundation of international society in the form of a ‘coexistence of sovereign states’.[55] Therefore, UNCLOS is a reflection of the global society; it is a means by which to manage human society upon the world’s oceans.

International conventions, codes and treaties that have the imprimatur of the United Nations comprise a legal basis for enforcing law on the high sea.[56] Older notions of international society and more recent ideas about regime theory all address the same problematic question, ‘what is the relationship between law and norms on the one hand and power and interests on the other?’[57] Whilst lawyer Hugo Grotius argued that power does not necessarily endow legal possession, naval strategist Alfred Thayer Mahan argued that naval domination of the maritime domain projected state power and influence. Two centuries after Grotius took the position of ‘freedom of the seas’ (mare liberum) and ‘in time of war and peace’ (de jure belli ac pacis), that later would form principles for a uniform law of the sea, Mahan proposed that ‘seapower’ had historically been a significant determinant of national integrity. It served the dual national interests of protecting commerce and trade, whilst projecting United States power far beyond its territorial boundaries.[58] Law and power are measured by examining the influence they have over the way that states behave.[59] Into the 20th century, the concept of law of the sea has led to peaceful uses for the oceans, rather than simply maritime neutrality and naval warfare.[60] Although its use has evolved over time, the concept of ‘common heritage of mankind’ (res communisomnium) which Grotius relied upon and that borrows from old Roman law, still guides modern international law of the sea today. Whereas Grotius referred to extent of legal jurisdiction, Mahan argued that states protect interests and determine outcomes through naval power. If law, power and sovereignty link to international norms, upon which international conventions are founded, the behaviour of the United States distorts the norms; as a powerful, influential actor, it can seek enforcement of international law for its own ends whilst avoiding the prospect that these norms may be enforced against it.[61] Thomas H. Lee concurs that analysis of sovereignty from the perspective of the ‘supreme state’ (by which Lee refers to the United States), makes it difficult to justify the norm of sovereign equality.[62]

Even the United Nations is not immune from questions about its role as an agency of United States power and influence. The response of Caribbean states and the United Nations to the war on drugs, and the response to piracy at sea by Southeast Asian states and the United Nations, both confirm that consensus if possible when non-traditional security issues form the subject of proposed security resolutions. The United Nations role situates it as an agency of international consensus; firstly, between a number of Caribbean states and America; and secondly, between the littoral states of Malacca and Singapore Straits in Southeast Asia. States sought cooperative security measures, because the United Nations represented international accord, it was an important transformer of values, affecting opinions.[63] In both case studies, greater trust in the agency of the United Nations and international law than in the most powerful state was not an insignificant aspect for weak governments reliant on public support, or where respect for cultural norms was linked to political stability, as in Indonesia and Malaysia. In order to reinforce stability within states, and within the international system of states, the United Nations allowed a forum for dissent and cooperation of states; both significant aspects in the atmosphere of the post- 9/11 period. Therefore, the United Nations own member states reinforced its international acceptance as an agency of cooperation. This situated the United Nations as an agency of legitimization, lending an imprimatur to codes, conventions and treaty agreements that constituted the bulk of international law. As an agency of governments globally, linked to public attitudes, consensus within the United Nations on non-traditional, low security issues, such as international law enforcement, had greater support than the United States’ decisions to invade Middle Eastern states.

6.4 Balancing Security Interests and Needs at Sea

An American Interest

Although it is the most powerful state, and as such is able to apply pressures on actors to cooperate, the United States has sought the cooperation of states on non-traditional security issues, seeking to extend the reach of its law enforcement ability and its jurisdictional influence. It has achieved this by using its premier marine law enforcement authority, the United States Coast Guard (USCG), assisted by the United States Navy. Unlike a naval force, a policing authority such as the USCG is not heavily armed or equipped to threaten other states significantly; therefore, the presence of such an authority represents a low threat to other states whose territorial waters it might visit. Although, the United States placed more weight on non-traditional maritime security threats and regional security, it consistently sought to foster cooperation and use international law as a legal foundation for cooperative mechanisms for security at sea. Its own national interests sometimes led to exclusion by regional states from direct participation in regional security cooperation. This was the case in Southeast Asia; although the United States remained part of naval exercises, it was not invited to partnership in non-traditional maritime security, the MSSPs that aimed to improve security at sea. One consequence of changing attitude towards regional security independence is that states have been able to make their own decisions about security partners. Within the Caribbean, that many states signed into bilateral arrangements with the United States, including shiprider and cross-border law enforcement bilateral agreements, therefore meant that cooperation on a specific issue of security at sea became one of the norms of regional relationships.

A Focus on Stability through Cooperation

There were fundamental differences between the ways that states cooperated on similar security issues in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia however, and the presence and influence of the same powerful actor (United States) affected the expectations of states towards engagement commensurately. Within the Caribbean, a consequence of bilateral agreement-making by states was that they could seek to improve capacity with minimal compromise. By accepting cross-border activities by a sole partner, the United States, Caribbean states avoided having to make possibly unpalatable compromises to satisfy the interests of multiple regional actors. An emphasis on assistance through cooperation has generally aligned with the United States strategic security objectives within Southeast Asia, as it has within the Caribbean. Partly, there is an expectation that coast guard and naval capabilities meet the changing direction of national security policy, from the 1980s and 1990s ‘war on drugs’ to ‘war on terror’ after 9/11; and partly a realisation that as the only remaining super power, the United States needs partners with which it can interact and influence. If the current system of global trade is to be protected, partnerships in security form the basis of a stable international system. Securing the oceans and getting other states to cooperate in this endeavour had by the middle of the 21st century, become a cornerstone of the United States strategic posture. The first line of the 2005 United States Department of Homeland Security ‘National Strategy for Maritime Security’ declares that, ‘safety and economic security of the United States depends upon the secure use of the world’s oceans’.[64] In a 2006 interview with Vice Admiral Patrick Walsh, (Commander, US Fleet Forces Central Command, Commander, US Fifth Fleet, and Combined Forces Maritime Component Commander) saw a group of states work toward a common goal of prosperity, against the common enemy of terrorism. Walsh considered that for his assigned task, a ‘coalition is absolutely critical to our success in the maritime environment … their diversity, experience, insight, their capacity … we could not have the kind of success we have had without that cooperation … a common goal against a common enemy’.[65]

Nevertheless, if the United States could increase its influence in regions with major oil and energy shipping routes, it could not only ensure regional stability in a major supply route, but also gain strategic advantages over major military/economic competitors, such as China. Susan L. Gough argues that United States strategic policy has aimed to secure the best possible outcome for United States interests, using every means available. Strategic influence, from a United States perspective, has been the ‘deliberate conscious coordination or integration of all government informational activities designed to influence opinions, attitudes, and behaviour of external groups in ways [that] promote United States national objectives, combined with other elements of national power to achieve maximum psychological effect’.[66] Aside from pursuing narcotics smugglers, prior to 9/11, the United States Navy paid little attention to non-traditional maritime threats such as piracy at sea, instead concentrating on traditional strategic military issues.[67] Whereas the Caribbean is located close to the United States, and some Caribbean states see the benefit of having a powerful actor as a protector, states within Southeast Asia preferred to avoid cooperation with the United States despite the capacity it brings to the table. Southeast Asian states have shown less inclination to see the United States as protector, preferring to negotiate on trade and security between themselves.

In 2005, Acting Assistant Secretary for East Asian Pacific Affairs, Evans J.R. Revere, stated that it was important that the United States maintained alliances with key Southeast Asian regional states. Revere was referring to strategic alliances with Australia, Japan, South Korea, Thailand and the Philippines, so it was not all-inclusive. These alliances supported the claim that the United States sought to ‘maintain regional stability, stay forward-deployed, and plan and execute force deployment adjustments.’[68] A 2006 United States Congressional Research Service Report also noted that within East and Southeast Asia, developing regional security arrangements supported United States security interests by encouraging peaceful resolution of conflicts and corresponded with United States aims of ‘stability and the maintaining of alliance relationships in the region.’[69] While this suggested a need for the United States to engage regional states, the report nevertheless pointed to diminishing external threats to states within Southeast Asia, due to more cooperation and coordination of force elements, possibly leading to the states questioning the need to support a continuing United States presence.[70]

However, at the same time, significant maritime security developments in nearby regions indicated a widening of the scope of USCG and law enforcement at sea duties of the United States Navy. Piracy at sea was increasing off the ‘Horn of Africa’ region between 2002 and 2007, and during this time, smuggling narcotics from the Caribbean to West Africa increased. By June 2007 the United States Government was indicating that policing the seas beyond its own national maritime borders would be included in its national interests, proclaiming a ‘Policy for the Repression of Piracy and Other Criminal Acts of Violence at Sea’.[71] Released in June 2007, this memorandum specifically addressed the problem of piracy and violence at sea, despite not focussing on Southeast Asia or the Caribbean.[72]

In a strategic shift of direction for the United States Navy, that affected regional cooperation, was outlined in the 2007 A Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower. The report emphasised trust and cooperation with other states, continuous consideration of the strategic interests of all actors, and promotion of mutual understanding and respect.[73] In May 2007, United States Commander of Naval Forces in Japan, Rear Admiral James Kelly stated that China, as a growing military power, was visible outside its own waters trying to send the message that it would operate beyond its territories.[74] With China’s critical need to source significant quantities of minerals and energy (coal, gas and oil) for industry, increasing cargo capacities, and the growing interest of the United States, suggest that China will not leave to chance the security of the Malacca and Singapore Straits.

Peripheral spending on security capacity building projects supported United States expansion of its influence into regions beyond its own immediate area, and assistance to states. One Southeast Asian example of funding policy was the construction of a joint training centre at Indonesian Marine Police Training Facility in Tanjung Priok, North Jakarta that began in April 2006, completed six months later at a cost of approximately US$700,000. Promoted as a means to enhance maritime security and thwart transnational crime, United States Ambassador Lynn Pascoe stated that, the classroom and auditorium of the facility would assist and enhance Indonesian Marine Police to enforce law in an ‘increasingly difficult and dangerous environment’.[75] The two part act included; Section 1206 funds under the United States National Defense Authorisation Act, referred to as ‘global train and fit’ authority with US$800 million; and Section 1207 funds, referred to as ‘security and stabilisation assistance’ authority with US$200 million allocated to this use (2009 figures).[76] Therefore, US Congress-approved, ‘1206 money’ was a means by which the United States has been able to augment capacity of regional states.

Uneasy Partnerships

After 9/11, the shift in attitude from the United States toward security generally, blighted its own efforts to get states to cooperate on security at sea. It marked a new reluctance by some states to follow old security pathways. It was significant that in Southeast Asia, the three straits states retained management of the way that law enforcement at sea was coordinated. Excluding external actors from direct participation in Southeast Asia (although, neighbouring state Thailand was encouraged to participate) in effect constituted regional norms of security behaviour. The littoral states of Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore sought to make their own regional arrangements after 9/11, and only after the invasion of states in the Middle East. This was consistent with regional principles ensconced within ASEAN that limited direct participation by external actors, including the United States, but also came at a propitious time. Various security arrangements between maritime states in Southeast Asia in the 21st century, including a regional anti-piracy at sea intelligence sharing initiative, ReCAAP, indicated a degree of interest in cooperative maritime law enforcement arrangements but conveyed an intent of self-determination. International law could protect the integrity of territorial sovereignty but for states to cooperate in multilateral law enforcement at sea, attitudes would need to change, requiring a further period in which confidence might improve. In contrast, Caribbean states after 9/11 retained the benefits of the existing bilateral relationships with the United States because there was no guaranteed advantage in changing them. Therefore, in both regions, states retained the choice of security cooperation (or not) but were reluctant to act hastily in adopting wider participation than necessary, or making changes that would interfere with their sovereignty. Caribbean states were protected by legal agreements and Southeast Asian states by their prerogative decision to limit law enforcement at sea cooperation.

However, despite the benefits for Caribbean states of cooperating with the United States to enforce law at sea, there was no apparent desire for multilateralism. Caribbean states have had to be complicit with the interests and demands of the United States, and allow it to enter their territories but improving regional security at sea did not encourage Caribbean states to engage in the proposed multilateral, Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement (CRMA). States in both regions have not avoided security cooperation altogether but have retained the power to adjust the terms under which cooperation takes place.

Rejecting the United States as a participant in Southeast Asia could have led to repercussions for the littoral states, despite continuation of bilateral and trilateral naval exercises between actors. Military exercises and exchanges, funding for anti-terrorism initiatives and support for the regional coast guards endured the rejection between the United States and Southeast Asian states. Another positive outcome was that burden sharing spread the cost of policing the Malacca and Singapore Straits and initially improved security at sea in the southern South China Sea. Cooperation clarified action to be taken on sensitive issues such as rights of hot-pursuit, powers of interdiction and arrest, over-flights by patrol aircraft, and designated patrol regions. As in the Caribbean, law enforcement cooperation at sea has dispersed capacity, increasing available assets, personnel and information sharing across a broad cross-section of states. Southeast Asian actors trusted that coordinating security at sea with neighbouring states met agreed regional principles, responsibilities and commitments, and that self-regulated capacity building would not be mistaken for bellicose behaviour at a time when many states in the region sought to build military capacities. Poor support for the 2004, United States-led RMSI proposal had demonstrated a shift away from old alliances with major powers.

Why maritime security was improving in Southeast Asia after 2004 depended to some extent on the viewpoint of individual actors. According to Admiral Timothy Keating, commander of United States Pacific Command, despite poor security in the past, and that ‘1206’ funding had paid for equipment and training, it was significant that the states had been able to focus on a sensitive security problem (piracy at sea) and had achieved a better outcome through cooperation.[77] Singapore’s Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Defence, Teo Chee Hean, attributed improving maritime security cooperation to increased transparency, including greater inclusion of regional stakeholders, openness about individual actor’s capabilities and intentions, and more value put on ‘cooperation based on dialogue and the rule of international law’.[78] Despite varying perspectives, states had demonstrated that they were capable of making security arrangements more or less independently, by cooperating with each other rather than relying on partnerships with external actors.

From the point of view of the United States, limited regional capacity had pointed to cooperation as a means by which states could increase security with minimal outlay. A key difference between Caribbean and Southeast Asia maritime law enforcement arrangements, aside from fear of weakening of sovereignty, or being seen to associate with politically dangerous and conflicting events such as the war on terrorism, has been the extent to which states have had the practical ability (capacity) to engage in agreements with other states. If less powerful states were to enforce law at sea, they would need to meet the practical demands, as well as its legal responsibilities.

Regional Needs and Limitations

In the Caribbean, halting the narcotics smuggling trade suited the interests of all actors, except the drug cartels. When the United States sought to fight narcotics smuggling in the Caribbean during the 1980s and 1990s, it was trying to resolve a domestic problem of illicit drug consumption and its connections with organised crime by blocking the supply lines that traffickers were using to get narcotics from South America to North America. Yet law enforcement at sea ideally necessitates using small to medium sized armed patrol vessels; not all states have this capability. The United States capacity to patrol far beyond its own borders and deploy substantial maritime law enforcement assets far beyond its own jurisdictions allowed practical cooperation with smaller, less powerful states with no inference of strategic domination. American naval strategist, Alfred Thayer Mahan argued that ‘sea-lines of communication’ provided global commercial trade and military transit routes, and that these were crucial connections – the United States has always had a considerable stake in sea-lines that supported commerce and military needs.[79]

States in both the Caribbean and in Southeast Asia have practiced non-traditional maritime security by enforcing law at sea. To satisfy the needs of all participating states, such behaviour has had to align with obligations of international law and national security interests. Maritime security cooperation therefore required a legal basis and a consensus from states within the region in question. Many states in both the Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions have shown a preference to act in accordance with what they see as their own national interests. Within Southeast Asia, the Malacca Straits Security Initiative (MSSI) and MSSPs involved arrangements made initially between Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore, but still required that standard operating procedures accorded with UNCLOS. Caribbean states engaged in bilateral agreements that were based on sections of the United Nations Drug Convention and accorded with United States ‘war on drugs’ policies whereas the MSSPs had no United Nations basis but still allowed for a regional agreement, established through Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) principles of non-interference in the political affairs of neighbouring regional states. Nevertheless, information through ReCAAP Information Sharing Centre did originate through the IMO, a division of the United Nations, therefore formalising the information exchange at the international level. Legal frameworks that United Nations conventions, codes and treaties provide, and that comprise the bulk of international maritime law, form the basis for enforcement cooperation between states at some level in both regions.

Comparing maritime law enforcement arrangements within Southeast Asia with comparable arrangements in the Caribbean verified that in neither region have states subjugated territorial sovereignty in order to achieve non-traditional maritime security goals. Instead, states have participated in agreement making that allowed them to shape the arrangements to best fit national objectives, through minimal engagement (coordination) with other internal or external actors.

Conventions of international law within UNCLOS support the right of unhindered passage of maritime traffic within international sea-routes such as Southeast Asia’s Malacca and Singapore straits, but there was also an obligation on littoral states to police them. The question prior to 2004 (when the Malacca Straits Sea Patrols [MSSPs] were created) was ‘if’ the states had the capacity; the political will to police this sea route; and if they did how to manage such operations, and how the littoral states could jointly achieve this, in lieu of allowing external states to participate. British naval strategist, Julian Corbett argued that using many small craft at sea was an advantage in a conflict.[80] In practice, law enforcement patrols by small craft are well suited to Corbett’s ideas about strategic dispersal, as they represent assets that, due to low relative capital and operational costs (compared to major vessels, such as warships), are usually available in greater numbers. Patrols in coastal regions are a natural adjunct role for marine authorities since local, municipal police may fail to provide an effective investigative role in coastal villages where corruption is more likely. The peculiarity of territorial sea limitations as outlined in UNCLOS go part way to explaining differences in attitudes to, and fears about the integrity of territorial sovereignty of littoral states in Southeast Asia. However, unlike the bilateral law enforcement arrangements in the Caribbean, the littoral states along the Malacca and Singapore Straits were restricted by capacity. The practical realities of capacity limitations, given the exclusion of direct partnership with the United States, impacted on the actual contribution that littoral states could make.

Strategic dispersal of patrols and platforms (patrol vessels) that Corbett refers to could have been an effective approach in theory but in law enforcement at sea in the Malacca and Singapore straits, it relied on a measure of holistic support of police, military and coast guard. Intelligence exchanges between authorities are problematic because it is an inherently protected resource. Poorly paid police, indifferent to, and perhaps implicated in local, or organised crime such as piracy and narcotics smuggling retard an effective holistic, cooperative security strategy unless there is a determined government-led reform. This was often the accusation within some sections of the Sumatran Coastline of Indonesia. For example, an Indonesian naval base at Tanjungpinang on Bintan Island, close to Singapore, improved regional patrolling abilities but only a continuing willingness by Indonesia’s government to make law enforcement at sea a priority to defeat piracy at sea could make the system work. Existing Indonesian patrols by marine police traditionally targeted ships and barges within Indonesian territorial waters, including nearby Lingga Archipelago. Indonesia’s naval forces and other marine authorities represent an extension of state power, control, and jurisdiction. Indonesia’s military and police organizations have had to build an interrelationship between the military and police in order to establish the confidence of neighbouring states that its political intent matches the willingness of its various marine authorities.[81]

6.5 Tying Cooperation to Convention

In the conclusion to his treatise on naval deterrence and anti-piracy at sea, United States Navy advocate Michael Bahar argues that the demise of the Soviet Union has meant that ‘asymmetric and law-enforcement type threats have dominated the strategic landscape’.[82] This infers that as the most significant post-Cold War actor, only the United States has had a capacity to provide law enforcement world’s oceans. Non-traditional maritime security initiatives for port protection and high seas policing prior to the end of the Cold War in 1991 have had the supported of the United States. A notable international convention is the Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation (SUA) 1988. Following 9/11, the United States initiated the International Ship and Port Facility Security Code (ISPS Code)[83], the Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) and the resulting Statement of Interdiction Principles (SIP).[84] Each allowed a range of practical measures to enforce law at sea, and sought to address the prevalence of crime committed at sea. In a sense, they have become the civil equivalent ‘rules of engagement’ for marine authorities.

‘Rules of Engagement’

In terms of cooperation between states at sea, international conventions, codes and treaties that are thrashed out in the United Nations have formed the scope of operations in both Caribbean and Southeast Asian cases. ‘Rules of engagement’ is terminology often ascribed to military operations; compliance to predetermined sets of rules outline the scope of actions to be taken. Such limitations and accepted behaviour that each state agreed to abide by formed a legal basis for security cooperation and coordination at sea. Within the Caribbean, the United States established maritime law enforcement agreements during the 1990s.These rules of engagement specifically referred to anti-drug smuggling operations at sea. The United Nations Drugs Convention 1988 formed a legal framework that was guided and reinforced by the widely accepted principles ensconced within UNCLOS. By including individual state authorities already party to both agreements (the United States abides by but is reluctant to put UNCLOS into force), the maritime agreements facilitated permission seeking when one state sought to enter the territories of another state with intent to carry on law enforcement operations, including the interdiction of suspect vessels. Sovereignty remained with the individual states, and the decision to allow entry of external maritime law enforcers remained a prerogative of the state. Meeting a wide range of expectations, the agreements carried the obligations, expectations as well as inherent shortcomings of international law.

Within both the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, the road to cooperation, consultation between government level authorities internal and external to the region relied on international law and regional principles. To adopt international agreement meant turning to international law. In many ways, international ‘law’ is more complex than municipal law of the state, lacking its surety of obligation and enforcement. H.L.A. Hart questions whether international law is really ‘law’ at all, since there is no obligation for states to comply; relatively weak international courts and a lack of pre-determined means of punishment distinguish ‘secondary’ (international) law from ‘primary’ (municipal) law anyway.[85] Therefore, providing security against crime on the high seas has involved states operating beyond their own territories while relying on cooperation with other states in order to carry authority across territorial boundaries. In the case of the Caribbean states, this can involve the USCG operating in a law enforcement capacity within the territorial seas of other states – it has allowed permission to enter a territorial sea to be given quickly. In Southeast Asia, states coordinate security against crime at sea, extending the marine authority of a state as far as neighbouring state borders; communication and intelligence sharing rather than direct incursions of patrol craft are emphasised. Responsibility for security remains with individual states. Consequently, power and law become intermingled because any armed authority represents the power of a state. Any type of security cooperation between states requires a clear understanding about the expected behaviour of each actor, especially when crossing borders. Law of the sea has long been an ongoing legal argument about the rights of states, of sovereignty over resources, and protection of territorial rights, and rights of mariners. It is therefore a significant part of law enforcement cooperation at sea. Conventions, codes and treaties are the outcomes of these arguments and comprise the bulk of international law, forming the legal framework(s) for agreements between states.

Given the significance of international law in shaping the way that states cooperate, it is ironic that the United States has been reluctant to ratify UNCLOS but has relied on other United Nations conventions to support its engagement with less powerful states. Although active in the creation of and adhering to its conventions, successive United States administrations have failed to get consensus from Congress for ratification.[86] When other states have agreed to abide by UNCLOS, it has been through choice rather than out of obligation. As international law, UNCLOS is a fundamental instrument of states with analogous security interests that extend beyond home territories and into the open seas; it forces states to revisit, contest, interpret and define legal regimes.[87] However, even though states facing analogous security threats at sea are unlikely to be able to make any changes to international law that threatens territorial sovereignty, by refusing to sign onto UNCLOS, the United States demonstrated a de-facto rather than de-jure interest in international law.[88] Consequently, the United States has sought to amend UNCLOS but hold off ratifying the convention whilst using international law to support its maritime security interests.

Contradictions

Following 9/11, the USCG visited Southeast Asia during 2004 to promote maritime law enforcement cooperation in Southeast Asia. Failure to get the same level of interest that the Caribbean agreements had received pointed to poor confidence of regional states, who were suspicious that RMSI was a veiled attempt by the United States to centre its ‘war on terror’ within the predominantly Muslim populated states of Southeast Asia.[89] However, there were contradictions within the decision of Southeast Asian states to reject the Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI); the context of the post-9/11 anti-terror campaign had antecedents in an earlier international maritime security convention, the SUA that had previously been accepted by states in Southeast Asia. The SUA developed through the International Maritime Organisation (IMO) and the International Maritime Bureau (IMB) during the last decade of the Cold War and laid a broad framework for more regionally focused initiatives, following a proposal that the United States put to the 14th Assembly of the IMO in November 1985. Adopted in 1988, the resulting United Nations Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) A.584 (14) had the support of Brunei, Myanmar, the Philippines, Singapore and Vietnam. UNSCR A.584 (14) notes ‘with great concern the danger to passengers and crews resulting from the increasing number of incidents involving piracy, armed robbery and other unlawful acts against or on board ships, including small craft, both at anchor and under way.’[90] Following a Maritime Safety Committee Circular (MSC/C) 443 (dated 1986), a proposal by Austria, Egypt and Italy sought to ‘provide for a comprehensive suppression of unlawful acts committed against the safety of maritime navigation which endanger innocent human lives.’[91] Therefore, SUA sought to prevent carriage of arms or explosives or nuclear, biological or chemical weapons aboard vessels, and addresses hostage taking, and the right to boarding a suspect vessel. Amendments in 2005 specifically refer to acts of maritime terrorism, and include the unauthorised transport of nuclear biological or chemical weapons aboard ships.[92]

States in Southeast Asia had accepted SUA but some states did not accept RMSI; therefore, this implied that stymied regional confidence was a significant obstacle to any later consultation between the United States with regional states. It underscored the need for confidence as a basis for cooperation and the absence of obligation in the post-Cold War era for states to participate. According to Oscar Schachter, international law is a ‘system based on a set of rules and obligations’ that is binding only if participants accept the limitations and control on their behaviour. Because it derives from political and social forces, it is also dependent on the behaviour of other actors reacting to changes and needs.[93] If the political impact of international rules is to have significance, Andrew Hurrell argues, international norms cannot be automatic and immediate reflections of self-interest but require both flexibility and legal framing. Particular rules must restrain norms of behaviour if this goes against self-interest.[94] Partly because of the nature of international law, it is even questionable whether non-ratification of UNCLOS did undermine the United States position as an advocate of law and order in the case of RMSI.

Within both the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, states have been cautious when cooperating on maritime law enforcement security with United States, even though it offers partner states access to greater capacity and resources. When a powerful actor such as the United States appears to influence the agreement-making process, security cooperation raises questions about the challenge it poses to the integrity of territorial sovereignty of states with which it is negotiating. On the other side of the coin, the risk of cooperation for the United States has been that a disproportionate amount of investment may see only minimal benefits. Therefore, at its most basic level, the trade-off for everyone is increased security capacity and information sharing for smaller states and better facilitated cross-border access for United States law enforcement authorities, further reinforcing its regional legitimacy. The degree of coordination of assets and information exchanges varies for each actor, particularly in bilateral arrangements, but protection of sovereignty overrides any benefits, especially for smaller states.

The Facility of International Conventions

The United Nations conventions have provided the United States with legal frameworks for regional agreement-making facilitating counter drug smuggling operations in the Caribbean, despite these conventions having no regional focus. By late 2009, the required minimum of five states had yet to sign onto this new agreement and bring it into force, indicating a reluctance of states to commit to agreements that do not especially favour their interests. This represents a departure from Cold War era, when a sense of political choice was acquiesced to the bi-polar security structure but also that, although the United Nations Charter promotes limitation on the use of force between states, and offers options for redress if all other means fail, cooperation between Caribbean and Southeast Asian states has been tempered with caution.[95] It is clear that practical maritime law enforcement coordination has required that states avoid infringing upon the territorial sovereignty or domestic jurisdiction of neighbouring states. In the post-Cold War era, the use of international legal conventions confirms that rule of law has been an important means to increase the confidence of states that cooperating on security issues has benefits that outweigh the potential drawbacks. When the United States sought to get states to cooperate to stop narcotics smuggling through the Caribbean Sea, the attitude of states to security and crime at sea, was of fundamental importance.

Conventions have lent legitimacy to more specific regional arrangements to enforce law at sea, similarly accommodating various interests and actors within the Caribbean and Southeast Asia. Despite differences in the way that states have gone about non-traditional maritime security cooperation, in both regions the United Nations has been a premier organisation for determining rules and norms of international law that reflect its own position of hegemony and power but incorporated the interests of states.[96] Discussion on the success or otherwise of cooperation between states, situates international law as a contested concept.[97] Certainly, cooperation to enforce law at sea required that states reached a degree of confidence in order to avoid or overcome Hobbesian-like pessimism. Legal machinery must function in the interests of all participants. Law enforcement arrangements have had to comprise an underlying coherent, formal and consensus-built legal framework, supporting region-specific, regionally built mechanisms. This has led to dissimilar decisions in each region about the need for cooperation or what form cooperation should take and with whom partnerships should be formed.

The behaviour of the United States, as a proponent of rule of law, and the United Nations, as an instrument of international law, encouraged cooperation on non-traditional maritime security issues. It is clear that the United States supported international conventions that serve its national interests but its interrelationship with the conventions codes and treaties of international law by abiding by customary maritime law belies official reluctance to fully accept its formalisation by bringing UNCLOS into force. Playing an intermediary role, the United States sought to engage states in both the Caribbean Sea and Southeast Asia to improve security generally, and specifically to facilitate the enforcement of law at sea in border regions, where its own principle of adhering to rule of law have prevented an overt encroachment on the territorial sovereignty of states.

States within the Caribbean chose to cooperate with the United States because a common threat was present; states within Southeast Asia did not chose to cooperate because national interests of the United States tied the response to its own interests more than to the interests of regional states. From a structural realist perspective, states inhabiting the anarchy of the international system are the only legitimate institutions that can make determinations about whether or not to cooperate with other states. Security cooperation between international actors is possible, as the events reveal, occurring when the creation of collaborative mechanism was created. The cooperation mechanisms in both regions have value because the states chose to support them.[98]

Whereas states within Southeast Asia and the Caribbean have an interest in cooperating amongst each other on non-traditional maritime security issues, the self-interest and power brought by the United States has significantly influenced their decision-making. The United States has hegemony because it possesses three attributes that meet the criteria. Firstly, it has the capability to enforce the rules it helps to produce; secondly, its government has shown a political will to do so; and thirdly, the United States is committed to an arrangement that is mutually beneficial to its self-interest and that of states with which it partners. However, the benefits provided by the United States have weighed against the nature of its interests.[99] The risk that the United States would affect the ability of smaller states to make independent decisions led to Southeast Asian states (Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia) choosing not to include the United States directly in the Malacca and Singapore Straits Patrols.[100] Therefore a single dominant state, such as the United States, that is able to create and enforce rules amongst the most important actors in regional systems may be the most influential actor regarding issues such as security, but the right of states to make their own security decisions limits such influence. This suggests that the position held by the United States, as the common denominator in Caribbean and Southeast Asian decision-making, is actually due to its capacity to bring stability through leadership. States will cooperate under the leadership of a powerful actor, illustrated by the United State role of initiating bilateral agreements with Caribbean States.[101] However, while states may seek relative gains (in relation to other states) in a zero-sum game that makes cooperation difficult; states also seek alliances to avoid the natural anarchy of the international system, or the self-interest of powerful states, as in Southeast Asia.[102] There, actors took measures in their own self-interest but avoided increasing power relative to other actors in the system, risking initiating an ‘arms race’ as each state also began build capacity.

To an extent, non-traditional maritime security issues, and getting states to support actions to address them, replaced previous norms of Cold War era strategic thinking for the United States. The stated purpose of operations conducted by the United States included interdiction of drugs smugglers and preventing terrorism through maritime security initiatives such as Proliferation Security Initiative and the International Ship and Port Facility Security Code in the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks.[103] United States engagement in the Caribbean led to increasing reliance on the USCG as a diplomatic initiator role, liaising with states beyond the immediate geographic interest of the United States using an effective cooperation strategy forged in the bilateral law enforcement at sea arrangements with Caribbean States.

Regional maritime law enforcement became a national security issue because it annexed a United States successful diplomatic venture with a renewed strategic security interest after 11 September 2001. Rule of law, questions about the legal rights, limitations and the integrity under international law of the territorial sovereignty of the state posed questions about whether realist, balance of power politics in the post-Cold War era had been replaced by refocusing on regional maritime security. By seeking to engage with states at a regional level, the United States sought to take a maritime security management role displacing the implied ‘us or them’ perspective of bipolar power politics, and to regain the initiative of creating rule of law beyond its own immediate areas of jurisdiction. Abiding by its stated principles of being a proponent of the rule of law in oceans governance, the United States gave financial support, practical guidance and sought to increase capacity of states, thereby enhancing significantly the provision of law enforcement at sea, and the level of cooperation required in achieving this outcome. Nevertheless, rejection of the Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI) in Southeast Asia, and the Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement, signalled that regional states retained a capacity to make decisions about security according to their own national interests, perceptions and priorities.

At the same time that the United States sought to engage regionally with states in Southeast Asia, its external activities conflicted with Indonesian and Malaysian interests. Narcotics smuggling and violence ashore were interrelated, whereas in Southeast Asia, the victims of violence were the crews of ships, illustrating a disconnection between the reality of the crime and the political function of the state to protect seafarers in territorial waters. Maritime criminal activities and politics connected in the Caribbean Sea to corruption and violence in ways that differed to Southeast Asia’s religious relationships. Malaysia and Indonesia’s Islamic-populated states were sensitive to the implications of the United States war on terror, or fighting insurgencies closely associated with Islam. Actions in Iraq and Afghanistan connected religious Islam with violence so that any collaboration with United States maritime security operations in Southeast Asia, especially operations within the ‘war on terror’ policy, threatened social and political cohesion. In the Caribbean Sea, on the other hand, there were no similar conflicts with United States policy issues (although there had been during the Cold War) that might cause states to lose the support of their citizens. Quite the opposite, disrupting the flow of narcotics through Caribbean coastal microstates had the potential to reduce crime and violence on shore that could advantage government support. Each region experienced violence as an outcome in varying ways, so that government authorities prioritised addressing divergent threats to the state in a different way. Nevertheless, the presence of violence, albeit in different forms, required states to react with an armed response that could also raise the level of potential threat that each states present to one another as they built capacity. Bilateral and multilateral mechanisms in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia prevented misunderstandings, and acted to build confidence between actors.

Types of threat to the state have helped shape attitudes regarding the strengths, weaknesses and threats to the integrity of territorial sovereignty of states. The norms of accepted behaviour within, and external to nation states do not condone violence by individuals against assets, persons or the state itself. Narcotics smuggling in the Caribbean increased violence ashore, affecting social stability, leading to black markets and further violence, thereby threatening the authority of the state; the basis of sovereignty. Piracy at sea directed violence at crews of ships owned and operated by regional and external actors, leading external actors to conclude that, prior to 2004 states in Southeast Asia were unable to provide adequate security in maritime areas for which they had responsibility. Improving the capacity of states to manage security at sea was a specific requirement in both regions. Cooperation in the form of coordinated, maritime law enforcement operations and improved information sharing provided a specific way of developing a response to the specific threat that piracy at sea presented. Advancement beyond limited participatory arrangements, to wider inclusion of states and external actors was similar in both regions, although the scope for further options in this direction, such as wider participation in a Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement and Malacca Straits Security Patrols has yet to be achieved.

Security cooperation in both regions is determined by the interests and priorities of coastal and external states, and accords with Robert Jervis’ description of a regime, where ‘principles, rules and norms … permit nations to be restrained in their behaviour [if they believe] that others will reciprocate’.[104] The facility of multiple-bilateral agreements, coordination of assets and shared information accommodate various national interests and priorities. Coordination allowed dissimilarities of national interests and priorities to become inclusive to what the United States Coast Guard (USCG) defines as a regime: ‘the system of rules’ that shapes acceptable activity by participants. Statutes, regulations, and international agreements, conventions, and standards all establish a maritime ‘rule set’.[105] Codes and conventions of common origin, as created in the United Nations and IMO are outcomes of international consensus and review, the ‘rule sets’ governing cooperative security behaviour of actors.

Where United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982 (UNCLOS) laid out fundamental maritime practice and customary law (explicit illegality of piracy at sea, violence and terrorism on the high seas, and actions that can be taken to counter this behaviour), the UN Drugs Convention provides a basis in international law for countering narcotics smuggling through localised ‘rule sets’. Codifying norms and actor expectations within a legal framework of international convention, maritime law enforcers adapted transferable norms and actor expectations to specific regional contexts, rather than simply meeting the interests of powerful states. Codified norms grounded security cooperation between states to sets of rules-based behaviour. What the data from both case studies in this thesis has shown is that cooperation is possible if proposed agreements have an underlying coherent, formal and consensus-built legal framework supporting region-specific and regionally built mechanisms. What UNCLOS offers by way of guidance to Southeast Asian littoral states seeking to address piracy at sea against ships, the UN Drugs Convention takes further by providing the basis for a legal framework from which state cooperation mechanisms have been constructed. Law enforcement at sea in border regions has depended on the willingness of state interactions to overcome perceptions that entanglements undermine national security objectives.

Conclusion

It is clear from both regional case studies that maritime security cooperation by dissimilar means resulted in effective but contrasting outcomes in the Caribbean and Southeast Asia. At a glance, both regions have characteristics that make them suitable maritime regions from which to draw conclusions about the changing nature of maritime security but geographically, both are archipelagos containing a great diversity of small and medium sized states with various economic and strategic relations, and territorial concerns. However, significant differences are apparent in the way that states cooperated to improve security at sea. In both cases, the United States was present as an actor of significant influence, seeking to initiate a response to an issue of its own national security interest. In each region, the effect of the United States involvement was different but nevertheless its actions instigated actions taken by the regional states. In the Caribbean, states small and large had a common security concern in narcotics smuggling. In Southeast Asia, the attitude to piracy at sea varied and it was not until the projection of the war on terror as an imperative by the United States that piracy at sea became a vehicle for cooperation. Therefore, cooperation was conditional upon actor’s seeking to overcome a common threat to their national interests. Certain Caribbean actors had agreed that their self-interests coincided with community interests; narcotics smugglers threatened state power, by causing corruption, crime and violence. The self-interests of the United States aligned with the security interests of many actors in the Caribbean. Reference to the Drugs Convention 1988, confirmed corresponding national and international security norms as a foundation for agreement making.

Since the end of the Cold War, through the 1990s and into the first decade of the 21st Century the United States has offered practical maritime law enforcement support to both Caribbean and Southeast Asian states through capacity building.[106] The provision of an increased patrolling presence of United States Coast Guard (USCG) vessels and aircraft for surveillance was something sorely needed by states in both the Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions, who may have had limited resources to provide security within their own territorial seas or maritime border zones.[107] Although Caribbean states took up the offer and signed one-on-one, bilateral agreements with the United States, an offer and rejection of similar support in Southeast Asia highlighted the dangers of misunderstandings through lack of prior consultation.

Consequently, due to some reluctance to accept the United States as maritime law enforcement partner, some Southeast Asian states indicated a shift in attitude towards great power partnerships. The nature of maritime security had changed. Questions about the direction of United States interests challenged its motives excluded it from partnership. While the three states with the most interest in the Malacca and Singapore Straits avoided a partnership with the United States, rejection of RMSI prompted other forms of cooperation, such as Eyes-in the Skies, and Malacca Straits Security Patrols (MSSPs). Therefore, the national interests of specific regional states (Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore) aligned on a specific area (Straits of Malacca) on a specific threat (piracy at sea) with agreement on a specific scope of action (security coordination).

Although the influence of the United States has clearly been a common denominator in agreement-making in both cases, despite initial failure as accepted security partner in Southeast Asia, the success of American engagements is its focus on maritime law enforcement. Despite the apparent self-interest of states, supporting neo-realist perspectives that states will seek relative gains (as opposed to neo-liberalists who seek absolute gains), regional groups of actors have shown a willingness to cooperate on security issues when formal arrangements have the imprimatur of United Nations conventions. Bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements between the USCG and Caribbean maritime states, based on legal frameworks provided by the United Nations Drugs Convention 1988 meant Caribbean states could participate in bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements with the United States because these arrangements aligned with their national interests. Southeast Asian states preferred to take responsibility and retain control of the way that law enforcement at sea is coordinated but their interests still aligned with the intent of the United States, even if they did not agree with its means.

Determining who could participate, and who would manage this cooperation was the sticking point for the United States. In the Caribbean, the United States initiated and managed the development of bilateral maritime law enforcement agreements; in Southeast Asia, the three straits states managed the way that they would coordinate security at sea. Excluding external actors from direct participation in Southeast Asia, neighbouring state Thailand was encouraged to participate. Caribbean states could participate in the bilateral agreements but the issue of narcotics smuggling did not encourage them to be involved in widening these agreements under the proposed Caribbean Regional Maritime Agreement. States in both regions have not avoided security cooperation altogether but could have power over the terms of that cooperation. Although bi-lateral collaboration, seen in the multiple bilateral agreements favoured by Caribbean states, generally favoured the stronger partner, there has been reluctance by states to adopt the multilateral CRMA, suggesting capacity building prioritisation over compromising territorial sovereignty through negotiating with neighbouring Caribbean states.

In effect, what constituted norms of security behaviour between maritime states, could thereafter be determined at regional level. In the case of Southeast Asia, maritime states sought to make their own regional arrangements after the 9/11 terrorist attack. This was consistent with regional principles that limited direct participation by external actors, including the United States. Various security arrangements between maritime states in Southeast Asia in the post-Cold War era, including a regional anti-piracy at sea intelligence sharing initiative, ReCAAP, indicated some degree of interest there in cooperative maritime law enforcement arrangements but while the various arrangements conveyed a degree of cooperation, wider participation still presented a dilemma. International law could protect the integrity of territorial sovereignty but for states to cooperate in multilateral maritime security, attitudes would need to change, requiring a further period in which confidence might improve. Caribbean states retained the benefits of the existing relationships, whereas there was no guaranteed advantage in changing them. Therefore the states retained the choice of wider cooperation (or not) but were reluctant to act hastily to do so.

Cooperation to facilitate law enforcement at sea has not come without cost; Caribbean states have had to be complicit with the interests and demands of the United States, and allow it to enter their territories. Southeast Asian actors have had to trust that participating states would comply with agreed principles, responsibilities and commitments, and that self-regulated capacity building would not be mistaken for bellicose behaviour at a time when many states are renewing military capacities. Rejecting the United States as a participant could have repercussions although on other levels although this has not happened. High-security level military exercises and exchanges, funding for anti-terrorism initiatives and support for the regional coast guards continue between the United States and Southeast Asian states. Burden sharing has spread the cost of policing territorial waters, seen in agreements on sensitive issues such as rights of hot-pursuit, powers of interdiction and arrest, over-flights by patrol aircraft, and designated patrol regions. In both regions, cooperation has dispersed capacity; assets, personnel and information sharing increase across a broad cross-section of states.

States in both regions have shown a preference to act in accordance with what they see as their own national interests. Legal frameworks that United Nations conventions, codes and treaties provide, and that comprise the bulk of international maritime law, form the basis for enforcement cooperation between states at some level in both regions. Comparing maritime law enforcement arrangements within Southeast Asia with comparable arrangements in the Caribbean verified that states have not subjugated territorial sovereignty in order to achieve maritime security goals in either region. Instead, states have participated in agreement making that allowed them to shape the arrangements to best fit national objectives, through minimal engagement (coordination) with other internal or external actors. Within Southeast Asia, the MSSI and MSSPs involved arrangements made initially between Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore, but still required that standard operating procedures accorded with UNCLOS. On the other hand, Caribbean states engaged in bilateral agreements that were based on sections of the United Nations Drug Convention and accorded with United States ‘war on drugs’ policies, whereas the MSSPs had no United Nations basis but still allowed for a regional agreement, established through ASEAN, of non-interference in the political affairs of neighbouring regional states. Nevertheless, information through ReCAAP Information Sharing Centre did originate through the IMO, a division of the United Nations, therefore formalising the information exchange at the international level.

In the Caribbean, many states signed into bilateral arrangements with the United States, including shiprider and cross-border law enforcement bilateral agreements. Therefore, engagement and cooperation of states on a specific security issue became one of the norms of actors’ relationships. There were fundamental differences between the ways that states cooperated on similar security issues in each region, and the presence and influence of the same powerful actor affected the expectations of states towards engagement. Within the Caribbean, a consequence of bilateral agreement making by states was that they could seek to improve capacity with minimal compromise. By accepting that allowing cross-border activities by the United States as sole partner aligned with national interests, Caribbean states avoided having to make possibly unpalatable compromises to satisfy the interests of multiple regional actors. On the other hand, Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia rejected overt external gestures that might preside over decision-making, or how security cooperation would function. The United States was exerting influence within both regions but as a leading proponent of the rule of law, and without the restraints that previous Cold War bi-polarised strategic prioritisation had imposed, was unlikely to disregard the decisions of Southeast Asian actors.

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[3] For an overview of the US statutory language defining terrorism: Elizabeth Martina, ‘‘Terrorism’ and Related Terms in Statute and Regulation: Selected Language’, Congressional Research Service, Report for Congress, CRS Report RS21021, 5 December 2006.
[4] US Department of Defense, DoD Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms, Joint Publication 1-02, 8 November 2010.
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[6] Alexander Moseley, ‘Political Philosophy’, Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, University of Tennessee, Martin, TN, 2006.
[7] One such alliance within Southeast Asia is the Five Power Defence Arrangements (FPDA) between the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and Singapore.
[8] Martin Griffiths, and Terry O’Callaghan, International Relations: The Key Concepts, Routledge, 2002, p. 272.
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[10] Grotius, The Freedom of the Seas. pp. 30a-32a.
[11] Grotius, p. 22a.
[12] W.E Butler, ‘Grotius and the Law of the Sea’, in Hedley Bull, Benedict Kingsbury and Adam Roberts, Hugo Grotius and International Relations, Clarendon Press, ch.6, 1992, p. 209.
[13] res communisomnium has been adapted from old Roman law, and applied to Law of the Sea as the concept that oceans have a common heritage for humankind that should be regulated and garnered by all nations, whereas in res extra commercium, the oceans are regarded as a common heritage governed by an International Organization such as the UN.
[14] A letter from the Duke of Normandy to the King of Prussia’s Secretary of the London Embassy in 1753 proclaimed that protection under law of cargo-carrying vessels on the high seas would not extend to ships that carried goods that would support a belligerent’s war efforts. Neutrality was, and has remained, conditional on the type and destination of a vessel’s cargo, especially in times of conflict but also in times of uncertainty.–––Daniel Moran, ‘The International Law of the Sea in a Globalized World’, in Globalization and Maritime Power, Sam J. Tangredi, (ed.), Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defense University, Washington DC, ch. 12, 2002.
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[16] UN, ‘Preamble’, UNCLOS, 1982.
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[18] ‘Limitations and Exceptions to Applicability of Section 2’, Section 3, Article 298, UNCLOS 1982.
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[23] ‘Hot pursuit’ is also an issue on land; soldiers pursuing an enemy across political borders are limited by rules of engagement that may not allow hot pursuit to avoid escalating minor skirmishes, unless an agreement exists between states allowing the practice under specified conditions.
[24] UN, ‘Right of Hot Pursuit’ Part VI, Article 111, UNCLOS, 1982.
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[32] ‘Capacity building’ refers to behaviour that increases the capabilities of a state, in this instance, to conduct the practical aspects of law enforcement at sea. This occurs through purchase of assets or gifting of assets such as ships, maritime patrol aircraft and/or infrastructures that support maritime law enforcement, information-sharing and other related support facilities.
[33] The ‘territorial sea’ is an extension of the territory of a coastal state, and extends to 12 nautical miles perpendicular to the coastline, measured from the low-tide mark of the coastline (see Chapter Three); One international nautical mile =1.852 kilometres exactly (that = 1.150779 land miles)––– Oxford English Reference Dictionary.
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[53] Oxford English Reference Dictionary.
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[77] Miles, ‘Admiral Cites Partnership’;‘1206’ funding refers to Section 1206 of the National Defense Authorization Act (2006). This authority, enacted in 2005, provides the US Secretary of Defense with authority to train and equip foreign military forces and foreign maritime security forces for two purposes: first, to enable foreign military forces, as well as foreign maritime security forces, to perform counterterrorism; and second, to enable foreign military forces to participate in or to support military and stability operations in which US armed forces are participating–––Nino M. Serafino, Security Assistance Reform: “Section 1206” Background and Issues for Congress, Congressional Research Service, Library of Congress, February 2011.
[78] Teo Chee Hean, Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Defence, SLD 2009 Plenary 4: Military Transparency and Defence Cooperation in the Asia Pacific, Shangri-La Hotel, Singapore, 31 May 2009.
[79] Mahan, The Influence of Sea Power, p. 120.
[80] Julian S. Corbett, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy, London, ch. 3, 1911.
[81] Ken Booth, ‘The Functions of Navies’, Navies and Foreign Policy, Holmes & Meier Publishers, NY, 1979, pp. 15-25.
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[83] IMO, Guidance Relating to the Implementation of SOLAS Chapter XI-2 and the ISPS Code, MSC/Circ.1132, Ref. T2-MSS/2.11.1, Annex, 14 December 2004.
[84] US Department of State, ‘Proliferation Security Initiative: Statement of Interdiction Principals’, Bureau of International Security and Non-Proliferation, Washington DC, 4 September 2003.
[85] H.L.A. Hart, The Concept of Law, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1961, pp. 208-231.
[86] By late 2010 the United States had still not committed itself to being bound by UNCLOS.
[87] James Kraska, ‘Grasping “The Influence of Law on Sea Power”’, Naval War College Review, vol. 62, no. 3, Summer, 2009, pp. 113-135.
[88] Bahar, ‘Attaining Optimal Deterrence’.
[89] US Coast Guard, The US Coast Guard strategy for maritime safety, security and stewardship, US Department of Homeland Security, Washington DC, 2007.
[90] IMO, Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Maritime Navigation, United Nations Treaty Collection, no. 29004, vol. 168, iss. 2, 9004, Rome, 10 March 1988.
[91] IMO, 2005 protocol to the SUA, 2005 Protocol to SUA Convention opened for signature on 14 October 2005.
[92] IMO, ‘2005 protocol’.
[93] Oscar Schachter, ‘General Course in Public International Law’, Recueil des Cours - Hague Academy of International Law, 1982, pp. 25-6, inVolkercRittberger and Peter Mayer, Regime Theory and International Relations, Clarendon Press, 1995, p. 53.
[94] Andrew Hurrell, ‘International Society and the Study of Regimes: a Reflective Approach’, in Peter Mayor and Volker Rittberger, (eds), Regime Theory and International Relations, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1995. ch. 3.
[95] Quincy Wright, ‘Non-Military Intervention’, in Karl Deutsch, Stanley Hoffman, Leo Gross, Relevance of International Law: Essays in Honor of Leo Gross, Schenkman Publishing Company, Inc., 1971; United Nations Charter, ‘Preamble’, and Articles 2 (1, 4), 24, 39, 48, 51; States can appeal to International Organizations such as the International Criminal Court of Justice, as well, which hears, ‘representations, protests and declarations of policy and opinion’––– Ellery Stowell, International Law, New York, Holt, 1931, p. 72, in Deutsch, Hoffman Gross, The Relevance of International Law.
[96] Hurrell, ‘International Society’.
[97] David J. Bederman, ‘Constructivism, Positivism and Empiricism in International Law’, Georgetown Law Journal, January 2001, p. 469-499.
[98] John J. Mearsheimer,‘Better to be Godzilla than Bambi’, Foreign Policy, iss. 146, January-February, 2005, p. 47.
[99] Vincent Ferraro, ‘Ferraro, Vincent, ‘Lecture notes on Hegemonic Stability Theory’, Mount Holyoke College, Massachusetts, (n.d.).
[100] Trygve Mathisen, Methodology in the Study of International Relations, Greenwood Press, 1974, p. 79.
[101] Antony Jay, Management and Machiavelli: an enquiry into the politics of corporate life, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, NY, 1967, pp. 22-7; Anthony P. Maingot, ‘Changing Definitions of ‘Social Problems’ in the Caribbean’, in Ralph H. Espach and Joseph S. Tulchin, (eds), Security in the Caribbean Sea: the Challenge of Regional Cooperation, Lynne Rienner, Boulder, Colorado, 2000, p. 25.
[102] Mearsheimer, ‘Better to be Godzilla than Bambi’.
[103] After 2008, the United States included increasing the level of maritime policing capacity to address piracy at sea in the Horn of Africa region.
[104] Robert Jervis, ‘Security Regimes’, International Organization, vol. 36, no. 2, Spring, 1982, pp. 357-378.
[105] The US Coast Guard Strategy for Maritime Safety, Security and Stewardship, US Department of Homeland Security, Washington DC, 2007, p. 5.
[106] ‘Capacity building’ refers to behaviour that increases the capabilities of a state, in this instance, to conduct the practical aspects of law enforcement at sea. This occurs through purchase of assets or gifting of assets such as ships, maritime patrol aircraft and/or infrastructures that support maritime law enforcement, information-sharing and other related support facilities.
[107] The ‘territorial sea’ is an extension of the territory of a coastal state, and extends to 12 nautical miles perpendicular to the coastline, measured from the low-tide mark of the coastline; one international nautical mile =1.852 kilometres exactly (that = 1.150779 land miles)–––Oxford English Reference Dictionary, Oxford University Press, NY, 1995.

Chapter 7: Challenges and Complexities of MarSec Cooperation at Sea

2015-04-06T16:37:00.000-07:00

Conclusion

A consequence of the changing emphasis of security at sea in the post-Cold War and post-11 September 2001 (9/11) eras is that states built confidence through regional interdependencies, and made decisions about partnerships with peer states. Through a method of compare and contrast, dissimilarities and parallels of maritime law enforcement cooperation in the Caribbean and Southeast Asian regions, exposed decisions by actors regarding whys and wherefores of oceans governance. This thesis validated that, in the post-Cold War era, states have cooperated to provide law enforcement at sea when proposed agreements have had an underlying coherent, formal and consensus-built legal framework supporting mechanisms that are specifically created by and for one regional system of states.

Each of the two regions had specifically dissimilar security at sea matters, albeit with similar characteristics and therefore, usefully in terms of this study, related solutions. On the one hand, the perception that foreign powers exert influence that contests internationally accepted rights of sovereign states is misleading. As a powerful hegemonic state, the United States engaged with less powerful regional actors. States who were able to face this engagement appeared to conclude, based on their later cooperation, that benefits from increased security capabilities at sea incorporated a cost-benefit balance; that is, national interests of all actors benefited through a willingness to agree to cooperate. Southeast Asian actors therefore weighed the cost and threat of maritime crime (piracy against shipping) against the cost to the integrity of national interests if they took action, or if they did nothing. Within the jurisdiction of a littoral state, maintaining stable regional relations has been less critical than the provision of security for all maritime users. Official acceptance that incidents of piracy had increased meant that the Southeast Asian littoral states admitted to a failure to provide security and control crime within their own jurisdictions. While crime is the responsibility of the territorial state, to suggest an inability of a state to manage crime occurring in proximity to its territories, or within its areas of responsibility challenges the leadership of the state institutions charged with upholding law. International demands for improvements to law enforcement suggest government-level inadequacies and might also be perceived as a challenge to the sovereignty of the state.

Outcomes

The end of the Cold War and, triggered by events in the United States in 2001, the war on terrorism has been the catalyst for a security evolution. As the meaning of security altered, variations in the way that security cooperation between states developed articulated a certain discursive discord between Cold War and post-Cold War era patterns of actor behaviour. This thesis sought to answer several questions using a methodological approach of comparative analysis of predominantly qualitative sources. Case studies of Caribbean and Southeast Asia providing a ‘lens’ or perspective from which to view the other; this is the small ‘n’ analysis of a limited number of cases referred to in the methodology section (Chapter Three) but sufficient for the purposes of making a useful comparison of one aspect of security cooperation between states. Several factors aside from securitisation variances, such as actor proclivities, also influenced changes in the way that states cooperated on security issues. These were specific to the nature of security threats, actor sensitivities, and defiance to extraneous stimuli; states consequently appropriated regional paths to consolidate local collaboration. Analysis of influence of external actors also revealed consistencies and dissimilarities that were useful variables. There are clearly many variables in a study of maritime security cooperation between actors in dissimilar geo-graphical spaces that have diverse cultural-political pasts and these represent the Piracy at sea, drug trafficking, and violence at sea are significant, non-traditional security, maritime threats because to some extent, the style of threats at sea has been an ingredient in influencing security cooperation. Sovereignty concerns, external power encroachments, media bias, unlike definitions of what a security threat is; all present as variables. Threat and response are two sides of the same coin; states in Caribbean and Southeast Asia circumstances avoided certain outcomes but adopted others. Mutable attitudes of states toward the concept of security cooperation, together with evolving use by the United States of international law to legally underwrite security cooperation at sea, safeguards the confidence of states in participatory behaviour. On the other hand, the fluctuating focus of the United States from global to regional strategic imperatives, and a evidence that less powerful actors will engage with these strategies, establishes regional order relationships as favouring the presence of the hegemonic actor. Consequently, the United States and the focus on non-traditional maritime security threats situate hegemonic interests as a common theme of regional security cooperation.

Interrogating factors that ‘push’ states to cooperate, and determining what factors ‘pull’ them apart, and whether these prove/disprove the hypothesis, encompass the fundamental problems for the research. Considering the data from previous chapters for instance, what was significant about the 9/11 terrorist attacks and their aftermath that pushed states away from cooperation with the United States, whereas prior to 9/11, bilateral agreement making indicated Caribbean states had not. Existing international laws and their application to the development of cooperative mechanisms in both the Caribbean and in Southeast Asia form a legitimising framework for cooperation. However, after 9/11 this ‘rule of law’ tender was insufficient guarantee that states in Southeast Asia would join rather than reject the style of mechanisms for security at sea that a powerful hegemony was proposing. The United Nations and International Maritime Organisation (IMO) had previously developed conventions on issues of illicit drug control, suppression of terrorism, and law of the sea, yet these were premised on community interests aligning with state and international interests. With the prior imprimatur of the international community, these conventions provided a measure of community consolidation that formed legal frameworks for the six-part bilateral maritime agreements in the Caribbean. Coordinated programs of patrolling, surveillance and information gathering seen in Southeast Asia signalled a dissimilar emphasis imparted on security at sea, to the Caribbean model.

What was significant about the post-Cold War era that led to Caribbean states, and later, states in Southeast Asia having the confidence to cooperate with the United States on a low-security issue? Whereas the United States could previously command allegiance from states when the primary purpose of security at sea was to support the western strategic alliance, this changed with the end of the Cold War. States have not been bound to the strategic interests of others, in the post-Cold War era, as much as they have to their own national interests, which may not align with the interests of the sole remaining superpower. What the United States does offer is support for the rule of law; this is evident in its reliance on the conventions of the United Nations upon which it based regional bilateral maritime security agreements with Caribbean States.

Implications of this Research

In a regional sense, the multiple, bilateral agreements between maritime states for the provision of security at sea in the Caribbean, and multilateral coordination arrangements in Southeast Asia can equally be termed regional regimes, because the terms of agreements became normalised international law. A maritime security regime exists where an agreed authorization is given, or arrangements are made and agreed to by several littoral states. In an ongoing sense, negotiations have been dynamic, requiring ongoing maintenance through negotiation between signatories and reassessment of the context in which crimes at sea occur and allowing for political responses to security issues that reflect, and are tailored to, the national interests and priorities of participating states.

Low-security maritime threats such as drug smuggling and piracy at sea offer useful ways to illustrate the evolution of maritime security cooperation between states. From the ‘traditional’ strategic defence role of naval forces, maritime law enforcement focuses on low-security issues, such as crime at sea, rather than high security, such as conflict between states.[1] Nevertheless, the role of naval forces since the end of the Cold War, in low-end maritime security blurs this distinction. There are clear associations of violence with low threat security incidents such as smuggling narcotics and piracy at sea, whereas the links between crime and terrorism have been less clear.[2] A blurred distinction since the events 9/11 terrorist attacks situate maritime terrorism somewhere as a low to medium threat with few actual incidents and few agreements on the way that states should coordinate their response to the threat. The United Nations Security Council (UNSC) resolutions 1373 (2001) and 1456 (2003)[3] reported a close connection between international terrorism and transnational organised crime, illicit drugs, money laundering and illegal arms trafficking. It emphasises the need to enhance coordination of efforts on national, sub regional, regional and international levels in order to strengthen a global response to these serious threats to international security.[4]

Maritime regime building had been demonstrably challenging for practitioners and coming to consensus depends on what advantages, real or perceived that it offers to participating states. Within the Caribbean Sea and Southeast Asia, governments were more willing to be involved in bilateral agreements because there was less chance of having to make compromises. However, multilateral arrangements succeeded in Southeast Asia because participating states coordinated efforts, avoiding having to compromise territorial sovereignty in order increase the overall capacity of maritime patrols. The CRMA arrangement in the Caribbean Sea was an attempt to coordinate the maritime law enforcement capacities of states. Although agreements that only required that states coordinate with other states offer the potential for further dialogue and diplomacy, cross border pursuits also required a high level of trust. Improving the scope of maritime law enforcement operations required first that states were confident that the process of capacity building through law enforcement coordination would be in their best interests. Ensconced within UNCLOS, the IMO preamble, and the United Nations preamble is the ideal of international consensus and cooperation. Participation requires actors to have the capacity to meet agreed practical outcomes of preliminary negotiations. The intent of states and external interlopers is to marry the interests and priorities of the home state to those of the regional or wider international community.

This thesis has demonstrated that where individual states in the Caribbean Sea and in Southeast Asia had previously avoided cooperation for fear of impinging on each other’s sovereignty, in the post-Cold War era, states have acted as partners rather than strategic competitors. Caribbean states’ capacity to provide maritime law enforcement even within their own territorial seas was limited prior to 1996 and improved after this time due to USCG shiprider programs; marine authorities of one state embarked onboard vessels of other partner or states, expediting access and pursuit of suspects. Similarly in Southeast Asia, prior to 2004 states such as Malaysia and Indonesia lacked maritime law enforcement capacity to patrol their own maritime territories, let alone an international shipping route, in the Malacca and Singapore Straits. After 2004, this situation changed as three littoral states, Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia and later Thailand began to coordinate maritime patrols. Other factors included Malaysia’s establishment of its own coast guard, the affect of the tsunami on Northern Sumatra and the political democratic reform occurring in Jakarta.

Changing dynamics of world events provide significant reasons for states to develop and strengthen their maritime security within a framework of cooperation. Maintaining maritime security at a level that satisfies international expectations avoids external involvement beyond the level of diplomacy and indirect assistance. Policy makers in Southeast Asia have determined cooperative strategies that encompass protection of the integrity of the territorial sovereignty of states that kept maritime trade routes open for business, and allayed concerns of powerful external actors. For maritime law enforcers, the imbalance of powers challenges the territorial sovereignty of smaller coastal states.

Maritime law enforcement is a transferable tool; lessons from one area can be utilised against different types of crime in other areas, especially in the environment of the high seas, where international rules apply. Yet its reception is not automatic acceptance. In a sense, there is a symbiosis where maritime law enforcement cooperation between states is sought; this argument accepts that states remain significant actors when security cooperation occurs but they depend on existing framework instruments of cooperation and consensus, particularly those codes and conventions created under the auspices of the United Nations.

Within Southeast Asia, piracy at sea had been a minor concern for local and external law enforcement since the late 1990s. It appeared to increase after the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997 and later with the attacks in the United States in 2001 (9/11 terrorist attacks). This specific low-security maritime threat influenced the official attitude of some Southeast Asian states in only small ways initially that there could be better ways to manage security at sea, reduce the cost of increasing patrols, but still improve the capacity of authorities to make the necessary changes. The lumbering pace of the state in this matter contrasts with their own maritime officers often finding it possible to speak directly with equivalent maritime law enforcement services in other countries.

Therefore, it is clear that in both regions, significant security events have influenced the response of states to low-security maritime threats. The Caribbean events there occurred in first decade of the post-Cold War era and prior to the events of 9/11 terrorist attack; increasing piracy at sea, and the response by states occurred in Southeast Asian after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Therefore, comparison of events in the two regions indicates that changes of attitudes can precede unusual levels of state-to-state interactions - an important point where the politics of cooperation sometimes seem designed to frustrate practitioner’s efforts. A significant variable between the two main cases was that the type of low-security maritime threat - narcotics smuggling in the Caribbean, and piracy at sea in Southeast Asia - determined which actors were being affected, and therefore, who should be party to cooperation and who should not. Excluding the United States in the narcotics smuggling, law enforcement agreements in the Caribbean would have run counter to that state’s role as initiator of the agreements, and provider of capacity. In Southeast Asia, the role of the United States as initiator, excluded that actor due to associated political risks; whatever capacity it might have brought to the table were subsumed by that risk. In addition, crimes at sea involve violence and take place in international waters or across borders. Consequently, a low threat security issue that armed marine authorities respond. Incidents of narcotics smuggling, and piracy at sea reported in the media usually highlight the spectacular successes of law enforcement operations. Maritime law enforcement’s effectiveness increases when good intelligence and international cooperation supports an operation.[5]

States within the two regions, the Caribbean and Southeast Asia, and upon which this research focuses, have coordinated law enforcement at sea by focussing on order rather strategic concerns. This aligns with the wider interests and priorities of the United States to enforce law beyond its own territories in order to protect its own national interests that include global stability. Seeking assistance in security through participation of regional states is an effective means to achieve this aim. It also allows participating states to feel that they have a say in an issue that has implications for their territorial sovereignty.[6] Smaller states have needed assurance that being a signatory to maritime law enforcement; security agreements will not disadvantage them or threaten sovereignty. In a sense, legality and order assures that sovereignty remains intact and defendable through international courts.

For the United States, its initiatives to get states to cooperate on security issues met with mixed success. While on the one hand the United States promotes the rule of law, on the other, this powerful state has historically prioritised its own strategic interests at the expense of others. This was seen during the Cold War and later, during the ‘war against terror’. In the post-Cold War era though, security is less about global strategic interests than about regional law and order issues. Therefore, states have sought to manage the complexities involved in maritime security cooperation in order to achieve their security goals and meet their national interests. Through seeking legal means such as the Drugs Convention 1988, the SUA, PSI-SIP, the ISPS Code, and to some extent UNCLOS, the United States has sought legal underpinnings to its efforts to get states cooperating.

[1] ‘High-security’ refers to matters that threaten the state, such as war and defence, and ‘low-security’ in this thesis refers to oceans governance issues, such as criminal activity at sea that is associated with violence. In international relations literature high-politics has referred to security of the state, and low-politics has referred to global political economy - these offer some equivalency with security; Michael Barnett points out, the definitional lines are arguably interrelated –––M. Barnett, ‘High Politics is Low Politics: the Domestic and Systemic Sources of Israeli Security Policy, 1967-1977’, World Politics, vol. 42, no. 4, July 1990, pp. 529-562.
[2] Rebecca Christie, Maritime Security, Lexington Institute, Arlington, Virginia, United States, January 2008, pp. 1-3.
[3] UN, UNSCR 1373, Security Council Unanimously adopts Wide-Ranging Anti-Terrorism Resolution; Calls for Suppressing Financing, Improving International Cooperation, Resolution 1373 (2001) Also Creates Committee to Monitor Implementation, Press Release: SC/7158, 4385th Security Council Meeting (Night), 28 September 2001; UNSCR Resolution 1456, 2003.
[4] T.A. Martin, ‘The Impact of Narco-Trafficking and Interdiction on Shipping’, Strategic Insights, no. 15, Risk Intelligence, November 2008, pp. 8-12.
[5] Martin, ‘ Narco-Trafficking’.
[6] Robert Farley, ‘The Future of U.S. Naval Power’, World Politics Review, article 6399, 14 September 2010.

[Please note that this is an edited version of the complete thesis]

Ice breaking for commercial shipping - Finnish style..

2013-01-24T18:49:00.000-08:00

For those who like a little ice with their commercial shipping experience.....

The South China Sea: Flashpoints and the U.S. Pivot

2013-01-11T20:00:00.001-08:00

January 11, 2013
By Elsa Kania

Claims and Concerns

The South China Sea has long been a flashpoint for regional rivalries and tensions. Subject to a range of competing territorial claims—including from Malaysia, Brunei, the Philippines, Vietnam, and Taiwan, the South China Sea is at the nexus of competing and converging interests. Through these contested waters flows over one-third of world trade, and within it lies a plethora of natural resources—including oil, natural gas, and fishing reserves. Here too, a seemingly inane but critical distinction for the claimants has been the difference between a “rock” and an “island,” the latter of which must be able to support human habitation. This is a concept subject to contention, as various tenuous outposts have been established, often overlying reefs that would otherwise be submerged. While a rock only commands a 12 nautical mile expanse of territorial waters, an island may be the basis for a 200 nautical mile Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) that grants rights over the resources within. Recent developments—including an estimate by the Chinese oil company CNOOC that the disputed areas could contain up to 17 billion tons of oil as well as 498 trillion cubic feet of natural gas—have raised the stakes.

Beyond the relevant regional players, the United States too has much at stake. At the July 2010 meeting of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) in Vietnam, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton articulated the United States’ “national interest in freedom of navigation, open access to Asia’s maritime commons, and respect for international law in the South China Sea.” As the U.S. now ‘pivots’ to the Pacific, it has sought a more active role in this dispute. This past July, at an ASEAN forum in Cambodia, following “intense” and inconclusive discussions on the South China Sea, Clinton warned, “None of us can fail to be concerned by the increase in tensions, the uptick in confrontational rhetoric and disagreements over resource exploitation.” The trajectory of this longstanding dispute may prove to be a test for the development and potential stability of the region.

Equilibrium and Interdependence?

One paradox at the heart of the South China Sea is the uneasy equilibrium that has largely been maintained. Despite the occasional confrontation and frequent diplomatic squabbling, the situation has never escalated into full-blown physical conflict. The main stabilizing factor has been that the countries involved have too much to lose form turmoil, and so much to gain from tranquility. Andrew Ring—former Weatherhead Center for International Affairs Fellow—emphasized that “With respect to the South China Sea, we all have the same goals” in terms of regional stability and development. With regional trade flows and interdependence critical to the region’s growing economies, conflict could be devastating. Even for China—the actor with by far the most to gain from such a dispute—taking unilateral action would irreparably tarnish its image in the eyes of the international community. With the predominant narrative of a “rising” and “assertive China”—referred to as a potential adversary by President Obama in the third presidential debate—China’s behavior in the South China Sea may be sometimes exaggerated or sensationalized. Dr. Auer, former Naval officer and currently Director of the Center for U.S.-Japan Studies and Cooperation at the Vanderbilt Institute for Public Policy Studies, told the HPR that “China has not indicated any willingness to negotiate multilaterally” and remains “very uncooperative.” Across its maritime territorial disputes—particularly through recent tensions with Japan in the East China Sea—Auer sees China as having taken a very aggressive stance, and he claims that “Chinese behavior is not understandable or clear.”

Nonetheless, in recent incidents, such as a standoff between China and the Philippines over the Scarborough Shoal this past April, as Bonnie Glaser, Senior Adviser for Asia at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, emphasized, “this is not an either or.” Multiple parties are responsible for the tensions, yet the cycle of action and reaction is often obscured. Nonetheless, Glaser believes that “The Chinese have in every one of these cases overreacted—they have sought to take advantage of the missteps of other countries,” responding with disproportionate coercion. In addition, China has begun to use methods of “economic coercion” to assert its interests against trade partners.

A Tipping Point?

Has the dynamic in the South China Sea shifted recently? Perhaps not in a fundamental sense. But with the regional military buildup, governments have developed a greater capacity to pursue longstanding objectives. According to Peter Dutton, Director of the China Maritime Studies Institute at the U.S. Naval War College, “China’s recent behavior in the East China Sea and assertive policy in the South China Sea” is “a serious concern.” He believes that China’s willingness to resort to force in defense of its territorial claims has been increasing over time, partially as a consequence of its rising power. As such, Dutton sees the situation as reaching a “tipping point in which China is…no longer satisfied with shelving the dispute.” Is confrontation or resolution imminent? Worryingly, Dutton observes, “the international dynamic in the region is motivated largely by fear and anger.” However, the use of unilateral military force would be a lose-lose for China,” particularly in terms of its credibility, both among its neighbors and in the international community.

The Pivot in the South China Sea

From a U.S. perspective, a sustained American presence in the region has long been the underpinning of peace and stability. However, excessive U.S. intervention could disrupt the delicate balance that has been established. Although the U.S. has always sought to maintain a position of neutrality in territorial disputes, remarks by Secretary of State Hillary Clinton that referred to the South China Sea as the “West Philippine Sea” led China to challenge U.S. impartiality. If the U.S. engages with its regional allies without seeking enhanced engagement with China, then U.S. actions in the region may be perceived by China as efforts at containment. Moreover, as the U.S. strengthens ties to partners in the region, there is risk of entanglement if conflict were to break out.

There has long been an undercurrent of tension between the Philippines and China—most recently displayed in the standoff over the Scarborough Shoal in May 2012. Shortly thereafter, in a visit to Washington D.C., President Aquino sought U.S. commitment to military support of the Philippines in the event of conflict with China on the basis of the 1952 Mutual Defense Treaty. However, despite providing further military and naval support, the U.S. has refrained from making concrete commitments. Although the U.S. would not necessarily be dragged into a dispute, if a confrontation did break out, it might feel compelled to respond militarily to maintain the credibility of commitments to allies and partners in the region. Strong ties to the U.S. and enhanced military capacity could also provoke more confrontational behavior from U.S. partners. Yet, Ring emphasizes that the U.S. navy and military are also unique in the “ability to facilitate military cooperation and communication among all of the claimants” and particularly to “be that bridge…uniquely situated to build some flows of communication” that could facilitate a peaceful resolution to future incidents.

Long-term Options

Beyond these tensions and speculations, one must also consider the long-term prospects of a viable solution. Speaking on the record at a Weatherhead Center seminar at Harvard, Michael Dukakis raised the question, “Why isn’t the United States urging that these disputes be resolved in the International Court of Justice? Isn’t that what it’s for?” However, in addition to U.S. ambivalence, China and other main players would also oppose such a step. Traditionally, in cases of territorial disputes, the ICJ has tended to privilege longstanding administrative presence. China’s claims to over 80 percent of the South China Sea, on the other hand, have been framed in terms of a historical narrative—expressed in the “nine-dashed line” first drawn on a map in 1947 by the Kuomintang government then exiled to Taiwan—rather than the rules and norms established through UNCLOS. According to Dutton, “China is abrogating these principles [of international law]…and pursuing its own version of history in the region [with] frankly coercive policies in order to press its neighbors.”

In the adjudication of this patchwork of competing claims, ASEAN has long played a mediating role, as through its issuance of a “Declaration of Conduct” in 2002. According to Ring, “ASEAN is the key” to resolving this dispute and “one of the few organizations that has the pedigree” to serve as a legitimate mediator, with its foundational norms of respect for sovereignty, territorial integrity, and freedom from external intervention. However, ASEAN, which relies on full consensus, is unlikely to move quickly. The next chairs of the bloc—Brunei as of 2013—are unlikely to press this issue. Moreover, China has tended to resist settlement of the territorial disputes in a multilateral forum and instead has sought direct bilateral negotiations, which would maximize its relative leverage.

Although a long-term solution and the protracted process of redrawing the map could take years yet, with mounting economic pressures and a voracious appetite for natural resources, economic factors may induce the establishment of some sort of profit-sharing mechanism in the short-term. For instance, Taiwan suggested in the 1990s that a joint development company for the South China Sea be established.

Looking to the Future

The South China Sea will likely remain a focal point of tension for years to come. China’s increased naval power may make a more assertive stance natural and inevitable. In this environment, Glaser sees that “the U.S. is more welcome in the region today than it has ever been.” The United States must find a balance between accepting this welcome and not overreaching—maintaining a stabilizing presence without provoking further suspicion from China or arousing concerns among regional partners. All in all, the South China Sea may prove to be a test, not only of whether China will be a “responsible stakeholder” in its own neighborhood but also of American strategy as it relates to a rising China.

Article: Asia, Online, World

Piracy plunges as more ships start carrying armed guards

2012-12-02T17:01:00.001-08:00

Michelle Wiese Bockmann Posted: 12/1/2012

LONDON -- Pirate attacks on merchant vessels in the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean fell 81 per cent this year as the use of armed security guards on ships acted as a "game-changer," according to the European Union's naval force.
There were 34 attacks by Somali pirates, with five vessels hijacked so far in 2012, compared to a record 176 assaults in the whole of last year that resulted in 25 ships seized for ransom, according to Peter Olive, the EU Naval Force's chief of staff.
Ransom payments to Somali pirates totaled $36 million so far this year, compared with $147 million last year, he said Thursday at a briefing at the EU's naval force headquarters at Northwood, England. As well as more aggressive military operations, the increasing deployment of private guards over the last 18 months on vessels transiting high-risk areas contributed to the declines, Olive said.
"In 2011, the numbers of private armed security teams went up significantly and that has been a big game-changer as well, though not the only factor," Olive said. "If that pressure is taken off it can all start to be unpicked relatively rapidly," he added, referring to industry and military measures to combat piracy.
Naval forces from three missions are deploying as many as 20 ships at a time, patrolling an area larger than Europe, to disrupt pirates who threaten international trade. The cost of piracy last year was estimated at $6.9 billion, including $1.3 billion spent on military operations and $1.16 billion on armed guards and vessel security, according to a report in February by One Earth Future Foundation. About 42,450 vessels transit the region each year, with as many as half using armed guards by the end of 2011, the Broomfield, Colo.-based nonprofit said.
"The fact there is private armed security employed in the region, there's nobody who's happy with that," said Hank Ort, chief of staff for the North Atlantic Treaty Organization's counter-piracy mission. "From a NATO point of view, it's not something we take a position on. Having said that, it does help; ships that get attacked that have security have always been able to get away."
Trade through the region is valued at $1 trillion, according to the EU naval force, known as EU Navfor. About 35 per cent of crude oil shipped by sea and 20 per cent of oil traded worldwide transits through the Strait of Hormuz, which connects the Persian Gulf with the Gulf of Oman, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration. Twenty per cent of the world's liquefied natural gas from Qatar also passed through the strait, it said.

2012-11-22T20:32:00.003-08:00

Finally Star Trek's Bridge is now available onboard ocean going ships (well, its on its way)

Ulstein Bridge Vision

The story behind Ulstein Bridge Vision, a project by Ulstein and the Oslo school of architecture for the development of bridges for future ships.

Coalition leaders float nuclear navy

2012-11-10T21:58:00.001-08:00

USS Hawaii

By CHRISTOPHER JOYE

10 NOV 2012

Top Coalition leaders want to open the debate over the purchase of nuclear submarines to replace the navy’s diesel fleet, a huge step up in Australia’s military capability in response to China’s plan to become a major maritime power in the Pacific Ocean.

Senior Coalition frontbenchers told The Weekend Financial Review that acquiring or leasing Virginia-class nuclear submarines equipped with conventional weapons, such as cruise missiles, would be supported by the Obama Administration.

Purchasing the submarines is not yet Coalition policy but some shadow ministers have discussed the idea with United States officials. Australia’s dependence on seaborne trade and China’s ambitions make a powerful submarine fleet the most sensible naval strategy, some Coalition leaders believe, and nuclear submarines would be more reliable and lethal than Australia’s existing submarines.

In discussions with defence experts US Ambassador Jeffrey Bleich reiterated American willingness to provide Australia with nuclear-powered submarines, which could receive technical support at US naval bases in Hawaii and Guam. In the longer term, this could lead to a joint Australian-US submarine base in the west or north of Australia.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and Defence Secretary Leon Panetta fly to Perth next week for annual defence talks with Foreign Minister Bob Carr and Defence Minister Stephen Smith.

Privately, some defence ministers in Asia support Australia obtaining nuclear-powered submarines because of mounting tensions with China, which has territorial disputes with India, Japan, South Korea, Vietnam and the Philippines, sources said.

“Putting all submarine options on the table will lessen the chance we end up with a hollow force in 25 years’ time,” said James Brown, a military fellow at the Lowy Institute for International Policy. “But Australians should understand that nuclear propulsion does not mean nuclear weapons.’’

LABOR WHITE PAPER IN 2009 ADVOCATED CONVENTIONAL PROPULSION
China launched its first aircraft carrier in September. Analysts think it operates up to 10 nuclear and 60 conventional submarines.

“China continues to build submarines at a rate unmatched anywhere in the world whilst the quality and capability of [its] fleet increases faster than [its] GDP,” said James Harrap, a former captain of two Australian submarines.

Nuclear submarines were ruled out by the Labor government in its 2009 Defence White Paper, which advocated 12 “blue-water” conventional boats. A nuclear fleet would be cheaper than the white paper plan, which the Australian Strategic Policy Institute estimated at about $36 billion.

Alongside the National Broadband Network it would be the biggest public works program in Australia’s history. In February The Australian Financial Review reported that Mr Bleich said that “whether [Australia] pursues diesel power or nuclear power … the US is willing to help”. The strategy fits with the current US policy to “pivot” military forces towards Asia from Europe. It would contribute to the US costs of maintaining regional stability.

There is a precedent for the move. In the late 1980s Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan agreed to export the design, nuclear reactors, and technical know-how necessary to permit Canada to build 12 Trafalgar class nuclear submarines.

As part of a review of the Defence Department’s submarine project, which could include a commission of audit, a Coalition government would also evaluate Britain’s Astute class nuclear submarines. They are, however, believed to be inferior in cost, capabilities, and suitability to the Virginia class, which the US produces at the rate of one or two a year.

Rear Admiral Peter Clarke, who was commander of Australia’s Collins Class Submarine Force Element Group, and is the only Australian to have commanded a nuclear submarine and a conventional submarine, said it was in America’s interest for the Royal Australian Navy to operate nuclear submarines.

“Australia would be much better served with nuclear rather than conventional submarines based on our strategic requirements and my experience commanding both,” he said. “Provided the right questions are asked at the right level, I’d be very surprised if the US did not favourably consider this.”

Senior Coalition frontbenchers believe Australia suffers from a maritime capability “gap”. Recently retired Collins class commander James Harrap does not believe Australia’s submarines are sustainable in the long-run and “will most likely be so technically obsolete by 2022 that the credibility of the capability it offers will be seriously eroded”.

SECOND GENERATION OF COLLINS CLASS REMAINS ALTERNATIVE
Another idea gaining traction in the Coalition is a bridging solution for Australia’s submarine fleet. Under the plan Australia would build a limited number of second-generation Collins class submarines that resolve the propulsion chain problems that have plagued previous vessels. Alternatively, it could construct an “off-the-shelf” design with proven operating experience.

Since the highly regarded Japanese Soryu class submarines are not available for export, a leading off-the-shelf candidate is the German Type 214 boat, which has similar range to the Collins.

Close US ally South Korea has bought nine Type 214s, which it is building locally. The Type 214 has a fuel-cell based “air-independent propulsion” system that allows it to remain underwater for two to three weeks without the need to “snort”. The current Collins class have a maximum underwater operating endurance of around two to three days.

Former submariner Rex Patrick, who trains the Australian, Malaysian and Singaporean navies in undersea warfare, says, “Australia’s annual submarine cost is approaching $1 billion. This has given us a pedestrian capability that usually delivers only two deployable boats. For $2 billion, we could build four Type 214s, which would supply navy with a dependable, high-end platform that meets 90 per cent of our requirements.”

Commander Harrap concludes, “Lack of platform reliability is the single most limiting factor for the Collins. Let’s never repeat that mistake. A submarine capable of most of the tasking available most of the time is better than one that claims to do all of the tasking but is only available some of the time.”

Link to Article Here

DEFINING AL QAEDA

2012-10-18T16:48:00.003-07:00

October 18, 2012 | 0900 GMT

Article from Stratfor

By Scott Stewart

The Obama administration's efforts to counter the threat posed by al Qaeda and the wider jihadist movement have been a contentious topic in the U.S. presidential race. Political rhetoric abounds on both sides; administration officials claim that al Qaeda has been seriously crippled, while some critics of the administration allege that the group is stronger than ever. As with most political rhetoric, both claims bear elements of truth, but the truth depends largely on how al Qaeda and jihadism are defined. Unfortunately, politicians and the media tend to define al Qaeda loosely and incorrectly.
The jihadist threat will persist regardless of who is elected president, so understanding the actors involved is critical. But a true understanding of those actors requires taxonomical acuity. It seems worthwhile, then, to revisit Stratfor's definitions of al Qaeda and the wider jihadist movement.

A Network of Networks

Al Qaeda, the group established by Osama bin Laden and his colleagues, was never very large -- there were never more than a few hundred actual members. We often refer to this group, now led by Ayman al-Zawahiri, as the al Qaeda core or al Qaeda prime. While the group's founders trained tens of thousands of men at their camps in Afghanistan and Sudan, they initially viewed themselves as a vanguard organization working with kindred groups to facilitate the jihad they believed was necessary to establish a global Islamic caliphate. Most of the men trained at al Qaeda camps were members of other organizations or were grassroots jihadists. The majority of them received basic paramilitary training, and only a select few were invited to receive additional training in terrorist tradecraft skills such as surveillance, document forgery and bombmaking. Of this select group, only a few men were invited to join the al Qaeda core organization.

Bin Laden envisioned another purpose for al Qaeda: leading the charge against corrupt rulers in the Muslim world and against the United States, which he believed supported corrupt Muslim rulers. Al Qaeda sought to excise the United States from the Muslim world in much the same way that Hezbollah drove U.S. forces out of Lebanon and Somalia forced the U.S. withdrawal from Mogadishu.
Al Qaeda became a network of networks -- a trait demonstrated not only by its training methods but also in bin Laden's rhetoric. For example, bin Laden's 1998 "World Islamic Front" statement, which declared jihad against Jews and Crusaders, was signed by al-Zawahiri (who at the time was leading the Egyptian Islamic Jihad) and leaders of other groups, including the Egyptian Islamic Group, Jamiat-ul-Ulema-e-Pakistan and the Jihad Movement of Bangladesh.

Following the 9/11 attacks, the United States applied against the al Qaeda core the full pressure of its five counterterrorism levers: intelligence, military, law enforcement, diplomacy and financial sanctions. As a result, many al Qaeda members, eventually including bin Laden, were captured or killed and their assets were frozen. Such measures have ensured that the group remains small for operational security concerns. The remaining members of the group mostly are lying low in Pakistan near the Afghan border, and their isolation there has severely degraded their ability to conduct attacks. The al Qaeda core is now relegated to producing propaganda for guidance and inspiration for other jihadist elements. Despite the disproportionate amount of media attention given to statements from al-Zawahiri and Adam Gadahn, the al Qaeda core constitutes only a very small part of the larger jihadist movement. In fact, it has not conducted a successful terrorist attack in years.
However, the core group has not been destroyed. It could regenerate if the United States eased its pressure, but we believe that will be difficult given the loss of the charismatic bin Laden and his replacement by the irascible al-Zawahiri.

In any case, the jihadist movement transcends the al Qaeda core. In fact, Stratfor for years published an annual forecast of al Qaeda, but beginning in 2009, we intentionally changed the title of the forecast to reflect the isolation and marginalization of the al Qaeda core and the ascendance of other jihadist actors. We believed our analysis needed to focus less on the al Qaeda core and more on the truly active and significant elements of the jihadist movement, including regional groups that have adopted the al Qaeda name and the array of grassroots jihadists.

Franchises and Grassroots

An element of the jihadist movement that is often loosely referred to as al Qaeda is the worldwide network of local or regional militant groups that have assumed al Qaeda's name or ideology. In many cases, the relationships between the leadership of these groups and the al Qaeda core began in the 1980s and 1990s.
Some groups have publicly claimed allegiance to the al Qaeda core, becoming what we refer to as franchise groups. These groups include al Qaeda in Iraq, al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb and al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula. Even though these franchises bear the al Qaeda name, they are locally owned and operated. This means that the local commanders have significant latitude in how closely they follow the guidance and philosophy of the al Qaeda core.

Some franchise group leaders, such as AQAP's Nasir al-Wahayshi, maintain strong relationships with the al Qaeda core and are very closely aligned with the core's philosophy. Other leaders, such as Abu Musab Abd al-Wadoud of AQIM, are more distanced. In fact, AQIM has seen severe internal fighting over these doctrinal issues, and several former leaders of Algeria's Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat left the group because of this conflict. Further, it is widely believed that the death of Somali al Qaeda leader Fazul Abdullah Mohammed was arranged by leaders of Somali jihadist group al Shabaab, which he had criticized sharply.

The last and broadest element of the global jihadist movement often referred to as al Qaeda is what Stratfor refers to as grassroots jihadists. These are individuals or small cells of individuals that are inspired by the al Qaeda core -- or increasingly, by its franchise groups -- but that may have little or no actual connection to these groups. Some grassroots jihadists travel to places such as Pakistan or Yemen to receive training from the franchise groups. Other grassroots militants have no direct contact with other jihadist elements.

The core, the franchises and the grassroots jihadists are often interchangeably referred to as al Qaeda, but there are important differences among these actors that need to be recognized.

Important Distinctions

There are some other important distinctions that inform our terminology and our analysis. Not all jihadists are linked to al Qaeda, and not all militant Islamists are jihadists. Islamists are those who believe society is best governed by Islamic law, or Sharia. Militant Islamists are those who advocate the use of force to establish Sharia. Militant Islamists are found in both Islamic sects. Al Qaeda is a Sunni militant Islamist group, but Hezbollah is a Shiite militant Islamist group. Moreover, not all militant Muslims are Islamists. Some take up arms for tribal, territorial, ethnic or nationalistic reasons, or for a combination of reasons.
In places such as Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, Libya and northern Mali, several militant groups are fighting foreign forces, their government or each other -- and sometimes all of the above. Some of these groups are jihadists, some are tribal militias, some are brigands and smugglers, and others are nationalists. Identifying, sorting and classifying these groups can be very difficult, and sometimes alliances shift or overlap. For example, Yemen's southern separatists will sometimes work with tribal militias or AQAP to fight against the government; other times, they fight against these would-be allies. We have seen similar dynamics in northern Mali among groups such as AQIM, Ansar Dine, the Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa, various Tuareg groups and other tribal militias in the region.

Taxonomy becomes even more difficult when a group uses multiple names, or when multiple groups share a name. Groups adopt different names for discretion, confusion or public relations purposes. AQAP called itself Ansar al-Shariah during its fight to take over cities in southern Yemen and to govern the territory. But radical cleric Abu Hamza al-Masri, who was arrested in the United Kingdom in 2004 and extradited to the United States in 2012, has long led a movement likewise called Ansar al-Shariah. Even the Libyan jihadist militia that attacked the U.S. Consulate in Benghazi uses the same name. But just because these groups share a name, and just because members or leaders of the groups know each other, does not necessarily mean that they are chapters of the same group or network of groups, or that they even subscribe to the same ideology.

As we mentioned long before Moammar Gadhafi was ousted in Libya, jihadists and other militants thrive in power vacuums. This assertion has proved true in Afghanistan, Iraq and Somalia, and more recently in Libya, northern Mali and now Syria. Weapons flooding into such regions only compound the problem.
Militant Islamists have seized the opportunity to grow in influence in such places, as have the subset of militant Islamists we call jihadists. So in this context, while the al Qaeda core has been crippled, other portions of the jihadist movement are thriving. This is especially so among those that aspire to mount local insurgencies rather than those more concerned with planning transnational attacks. The nuances are important because as the composition and objectives of jihadist groups change, so do their methods of attack.

[For more on TERRORISM from STRATFOR click here ....]

Sea Piracy News - Somalia

2012-09-28T16:54:00.000-07:00

(Reuters) - In Somalia's main pirate lair of Haradheere, the sea gangs have set up a cooperative to fund their hijackings offshore, a sort of stock exchange meets criminal syndicate.

September 25, 2012

Associated Press

Heavily armed pirates from the lawless Horn of Africa nation have terrorized shipping lanes in the Indian Ocean and strategic Gulf of Aden, which links Europe to Asia through the Red Sea.
The gangs have made tens of millions of dollars from ransoms and a deployment by foreign navies in the area has only appeared to drive the attackers to hunt further from shore.
It is a lucrative business that has drawn financiers from the Somali diaspora and other nations -- and now the gangs in Haradheere have set up an exchange to manage their investments.
One wealthy former pirate named Mohammed took Reuters around the small facility and said it had proved to be an important way for the pirates to win support from the local community for their operations, despite the dangers involved.
"Four months ago, during the monsoon rains, we decided to set up this stock exchange. We started with 15 'maritime companies' and now we are hosting 72. Ten of them have so far been successful at hijacking," Mohammed said.
"The shares are open to all and everybody can take part, whether personally at sea or on land by providing cash, weapons or useful materials ... we've made piracy a community activity."
Haradheere, 400 km (250 miles) northeast of Mogadishu, used to be a small fishing village. Now it is a bustling town where luxury 4x4 cars owned by the pirates and those who bankroll them create honking traffic jams along its pot-holed, dusty streets.
Somalia's Western-backed government of President Sheikh Sharif Ahmed is pinned down battling hard-line Islamist rebels, and controls little more than a few streets of the capital.
The administration has no influence in Haradheere -- where a senior local official said piracy paid for almost everything.
"Piracy-related business has become the main profitable economic activity in our area and as locals we depend on their output," said Mohamed Adam, the town's deputy security officer.
"The district gets a percentage of every ransom from ships that have been released, and that goes on public infrastructure, including our hospital and our public schools."
RISK VS REWARDS
In a drought-ravaged country that provides almost no employment opportunities for fit young men, many are been drawn to the allure of the riches they see being earned at sea.
Abdirahman Ali was a secondary school student in Mogadishu until three months ago when his family fled the fighting there.
Given the choice of moving with his parents to Lego, their ancestral home in Middle Shabelle where strict Islamist rebels have banned most entertainment including watching sport, or joining the pirates, he opted to head for Haradheere.
Now he guards a Thai fishing boat held just offshore.
"First I decided to leave the country and migrate, but then I remembered my late colleagues who died at sea while trying to migrate to Italy," he told Reuters. "So I chose this option, instead of dying in the desert or from mortars in Mogadishu."
Haradheere's "stock exchange" is open 24 hours a day and serves as a bustling focal point for the town. As well as investors, sobbing wives and mothers often turn up there seeking news of male relatives missing in action.
Every week, Mohammed said, gang members and equipment were lost to the sea. But he said the pirates were not deterred.
"Ransoms have even increased in recent months from between $2-3 million to $4 million because of the increased number of shareholders and the risks," he said.
"Let the anti-piracy navies continue their search for us. We have no worries because our motto for the job is 'do or die'."
Piracy investor Sahra Ibrahim, a 22-year-old divorcee, was lined up with others waiting for her cut of a ransom pay-out after one of the gangs freed a Spanish tuna fishing vessel.
"I am waiting for my share after I contributed a rocket-propelled grenade for the operation," she said, adding that she got the weapon from her ex-husband in alimony.
"I am really happy and lucky. I have made $75,000 in only 38 days since I joined the 'company'."

ALSO:

War On Somali Pirate Takes New Heights
Posted on July 16, 2012
The war on Somali pirates has been taken into a new height when on May 15, EU naval forces conducted their first raid on pirate bases on the Somali mainland. While the naval ships attached to EU mandated Operation Atalanta fires their naval gun, the EU forces were transported by helicopter to the bases near the port of Haradhere, a major pirate stronghold. (here). At least one gunship was also involved during the operation.
In all, several speedboats were destroyed as well as fuel and ammunition stores, alliance officials said. No lives were lost in the attack and no Somalis were injured, the EU said.
The EU military actions against the pirate mainland bases is unprecedented as most of other countries involved in anti-piracy operation in the area were reluctant to conduct similar action fearing for the safety of the captured hostages.
The MAF currently deploys 2 RMN auxilliary ships, the Bunga Mas 5 (BM 5) and Bunga Mas 6 (BM 6) to the Somali coast as part of Ops Fajar, a Malaysian Government mandated anti piracy operation which aims to protect Malaysian maritime trade interest. A small air element consist of a single AS-555SN Fennec helicopter operated by CUT’s No 502 Skn is also deployed on board the BM 5.
BM 5 also brought a team of National Special Operation Forces (NSOF) operators which were drawn from RMAF’s PASKAU, RMN’s PASKAL, the Malaysian Army’s GGK as well as RMP’s VAT 69/UTK units. It is not known whether the NSOF operatives were also attached to BM 6.
Nevertheless, prior to the operation, the US Special Forces led by the Navy SEAL had successfully conducted nightime raid on the pirate’s hideout in Gadaado on January 26, rescuing two aid workers, an American and a Dane.
The commando were parachuted in the dark from special operation aircraft, walk their way amidst heavy fire, rescue the hostages and were brought out from Somalia via special operation helicopters awaiting for them and ferried them to safety.

9/11 special

2012-09-13T15:38:00.001-07:00

The Haqqani History: Bin Ladin's Advocate Inside the Taliban

New Documents – Posted on 9/11 Anniversary – Offer Partial View Inside Newly-Dubbed Terrorist Network

(courtesy of Harvard University)

National Security Archive Electronic Briefing Book No. 389 Posted - September 11, 2012
Edited by Barbara Elias-Sanborn
For more information contact:
Barbara Elias-Sanborn - 202/994-7000

FBI Wanted Poster - Sirajuddin Haqqani, son of Haqqani Network founder Jalaluddin Haqqani, www.fbi.gov.

Washington, D.C., September 11, 2012 – In the wake of the State Department's recent designation of the al-Qaeda-affiliated Haqqani Network as a terrorist organization, declassified documents posted today – on the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks – by the National Security Archive offer new insight into the Haqqani family's long history with militancy. The records on Network founder Jalaluddin Haqqani detail direct meetings between Haqqani and U.S. diplomats, [Doc 4] his role as a Taliban military commander, [Doc 2] and intimate ties to foreign militants, [Doc 1] al-Qaeda connections, [Doc 5] as well as his potentially critical function as a major advocate for Osama bin Laden within the Taliban administration. [Doc 3]

The released documents include a confession from Haqqani that he had enjoyed very amicable relations with U.S. officials during the Soviet war in Afghanistan, but that the friendship soured after the 1998 U.S. bombing of a Haqqani-linked terrorist camp in Khost, Afghanistan, undertaken by President Bill Clinton in retaliation for al-Qaeda attacks on the U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania.

Although the U.S. decided to officially declare the Haqqani Network a terrorist organization only on September 7, 2012, Haqqani's ties to extremism and al-Qaeda date back to the Soviet intervention and the founding of al-Qaeda. All major leaders in the Haqqani group had already been identified as al-Qaeda and Taliban affiliates and sanctioned by the UN at the request of Washington. [Doc 6]

The National Security Archive obtained the documents below through the Freedom of Information Act. As the U.S. government declassifies and releases more materials, the Archive will make them available, including through future Web postings.

Documents

Document 1 - Karachi 01617: U.S. Consulate Karachi, Cable, "The Harakat-ul-Ansar - The Pakistan Dimension [Excised]," March 29, 1995, Secret, 14 pp.

Describing long-standing ties between Jalaluddin Haqqani and foreign terrorists, a report by the U.S. Department of State on the Kashmiri militant group Harakat-ul-Ansar notes "many of the activists of Harakat-ul-Ansar are reportedly veterans of the Afghan war who fought along with Maulana Jalaluddin Haqqani in Paktia Province. A significant portion of the membership is non-Pakistani, made up of Afghan war veterans from Algeria, Tunisia, Sudan, Egypt, and other countries, all of whom have stayed on after conclusion of the Afghan jihad. Three sources have told us that the membership also includes a small number of American muslims - we've heard numbers ranging from six to sixteen…"

Document 2 - Islamabad 00154 : U.S. Embassy (Islamabad) Cable, "Afghanistan: Jalaluddin Haqqani's Emergence As a Key Taliban Commander," January 7, 1997, Confidential, 14pp.

Taliban military commander Jalaluddin Haqqani is reported in this 1997 account to be "more liberal" in his opinions on social policy, such as women's rights, than other Taliban officials. But he does not seem to be in a position to influence Taliban positions on these issues. Haqqani nevertheless remains respected as a competent and influential officer in Taliban military affairs. His ties to "various radical Arab groups" concern the Department of State, as one source reports that "in exchange for weapons and money… [he is] offering shelter for various Arabs in areas of Paktia province." The Department notes that "reporting in other channels indicate that Haqqani maintains these links" with radical Arab elements in Afghanistan. An additional previously published document similarly discusses Haqqani's ties to Arab and Kashmiri militants.

Document 3 - Islamabad 04450: U.S. Embassy (Islamabad) Cable, "Afghanistan: Taliban Said to Loosen Grip on Bin Ladin as They Increasingly Turn to Him for Financial Support and Advice," June 12, 1998, Confidential, 9 pp.

Sources inform U.S. officials that Jalaluddin Haqqani is an important individual advocating for Osama bin Laden in the Taliban administration. Washington is concerned as bin Laden appears to be operating largely free of Taliban government control and is being protected by Taliban elements. Sources claim bin Laden's augmented autonomy and influence are due at least in part to "the growing strength of his supporters within the Taliban movement... Bin Ladin is benefiting from the enhanced strength within the movement of such men as Jalaluddin Haqqani, a well-known pro-Taliban commander… Ideologically close to bin Ladin's internationalist Islamist positions, these men have successfully argued with other Taliban in recent months to reduce controls on bin Ladin."

Document 4 - State 095538: U.S. Department of State, Cable, "Usama bin Ladin: Pressing High-Level Taliban Official Jalaluddin Haqqani on Bin Ladin," May 24, 1999, Secret, NODIS, 6 pp.

U.S. officials meet directly with Jalaluddin Haqqani in 1999 to discuss Osama bin Ladin. Haqqani is in the Taliban administration serving as "Acting Minister of Borders," and is known as a "key" official "with links to Arab militants." Despite noting that "he was deeply appreciative of U.S. assistance during the 'jihad' (holy war) against the Soviets and the (Afghan) communists," tensions between Haqqani and U.S. officials are palpable since American missiles destroyed a Haqqani-linked terrorist camp in Khost, Afghanistan, in August 1998. Haqqani initiates the meeting by "joking" that it was "good to meet someone from the country which had destroyed my base, my madrassh [sic], and killed 25 of my mujahideen."

Bin Laden remains the focus of the meeting with Haqqani. American officials tell Haqqani, "the U.S. would continue to make things difficult for the Taliban if the [bin Laden] issue remained unresolved. It was in the Taliban's advantage to expel him immediately." Haqqani agrees bin Laden is "a problem," but insists that "maybe the best solution is what is taking place now with him remaining in the country."

Document 5 - ISAF - RC East OSINT Summary: International Security Assistance Force - Afghanistan (ISAF), Report, "The Landing Zone, RC East OSINT Summary," December 18, 2008, Secret, 8 pp.

Quoting unclassified sources, a letter ostensibly signed by Jalaluddin Haqqani, the head of a network "very closely aligned with Al Qaeda," was released denouncing Taliban leader Mullah Omar as "ineffective, ignorant, and illiterate." Most suspect the letter is a fake. "Intelligence agents with the international forces suggest that the letter originated from the Afghan government or its allies as an attempt to inflame tensions between insurgent groups." The previously-classified ISAF intelligence analyst commentary notes: "The strategy of separating the Taliban from Al Qaida is a pretty farfetched concept since the majority of low level fighters for these organizations are known to be used by both… Al Qaida plays a coordinating and strategic role between several syndicate organizations, enabling global support while simultaneously ensuring the harmonization of these groups. These actions assist with… the Taliban's main objective of forcing western forces out of Afghanistan and regaining control of the national government."

In other words, attempts to separate groups like al-Qaeda, the Haqqani Network and Taliban-affiliates are unlikely to succeed since on the ground they use many of the same fighters, and the Taliban benefit from al-Qaeda and Haqqani's strategic role in coordinating groups aiming to weaken U.S. efforts.

Note: "RC East OSINT Summary" stands for Regional Command [Afghanistan] East, Open Source Intelligence.

Document 6 - State 070339: U.S. Department of State, Cable, "Instruction to Nominate Four Terrorist Leaders for Listing by the UN 1267 Sanctions Committee," July 6, 2010, Unclassified, 5 pp.

Document 7 - State 002648: U.S. Department of State, Cable, "Pre-Notification for Impending U.S. Domestic Designation and UNSCR 1267 Listing Request of Khalil Haqqani and Said Jan +Abd Al-Salam," January 10, 2011, Secret, 7 pp.

As discussed in these two cables, prior to the September 7, 2012, designation of the Haqqani Network as a terrorist organization, the leaders of the Haqqani group had already been added to the UN 1267 Committee list of "individuals and entities associated with Usama bin Laden, the Taliban or al Qaida." The Department notes that "[l]isted individuals are subject to UN Security Council mandated sanctions, including a travel ban, arms embargo, and assets freeze." Individuals who had been named include Haqqani Network founder Jalaluddin Haqqani, his sons Badruddin (killed in August 2012), Nasiruddin and Sirajuddin, as well as Jalaluddin's brother, Khalil Haqqani, who was said to have "acted on behalf of al Qa'ida (AQ) and has been linked to AQ military operations. In 2002 Khalil Haqqani deployed men to reinforce AQ elements in Paktia Province, Afghanistan."

ORIGINAL LINK CLICK HERE

EU forces attack Somali pirates on land

2012-09-06T02:57:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, September 5th, 2012

Nairobi [Radio RBC] Europe’s naval force patrolling off the coast East Africa said on Tuesday it had attacked Somali pirate installations on land, the first time it had conducted such an action since extending its remit from strictly to sea-based operations.

Initial reports indicated that there were no casualties during the operation, which happened earlier on Tuesday.

“We believe this action by the EU Naval Force (NAVFOR) will further increase the pressure on, and disrupt pirates’ efforts to get out to sea to attack merchant shipping and dhows,” the commander of the EU Naval Force, Rear Admiral Duncan Potts, said in a statement. “The local Somali people … many of whom have suffered so much because of piracy in the region, can be reassured that our focus was on known pirate supplies and will remain so in the future.”

The action was conducted from the air and ”at no point did EU Naval Force ‘boots’ go ashore,” the statement said.

The European force, which is trying to stamp out piracy off the coasts of lawless Somalia, is made up of around 1,400 military personnel, nine warships and five maritime surveillance aircraft, according to NAVFOR’s website.

Despite successful efforts to quell attacks in the Gulf of Aden, international navies have struggled to contain piracy in the Indian Ocean and Arabian Sea owing to the vast distances involved.

eaborne gangs have raked in an estimated $150 million in ransoms in what has become a highly organized, international criminal enterprise, security analysts say. Somali pirates in the failed state have carried out more than 800 attacks on ships, from private yachts to oil supertankers since 2008.

On March 23 the EU Council decided to allow its forces in the region to take “disruption action against known pirate supplies on the (Somali) shore.”

“Putting pressure on their business model by destroying their boats and eliminating their fuel dumps will make life more difficult for the sponsors of piracy and the pirates themselves,”

[Original Artile Here]

The Often Forgotten Role of The USCG in WW2.

2012-08-15T02:19:00.000-07:00

Some pics from MARSEC4, see here.....

Search Intensified for Indonesian Sailor, 3 Others, Kidnapped in Deadly Pirate Attack

2012-08-06T00:39:00.002-07:00

Aderogba Obisesan | August 06, 2012

Lagos. Nigeria on Sunday intensified its search for four foreigners, including an Indonesian, kidnapped during a deadly attack on a vessel belonging to an oil services company, the navy said.
The suspected pirates stormed the vessel belonging to the Sea Trucks Group early Saturday in the Gulf of Guinea, an area that has seen a sharp spike in the number of reported maritime attacks over the past six months.
"We have intensified our search for the kidnappers and the abducted four foreigners," Nigerian navy spokesman Commodore Kabir Aliyu told AFP.
Another naval officer, who declined to be named because he has no authority to speak to reporters, said that the search for the foreigners has continued in the creeks and waterways in the region.
"We are leaving no stone unturned in our efforts to get back these four foreigners who were kidnapped aboard the vessel. We are redoubling our efforts," he said.
A spokeswoman for Sea Trucks Group, which provides support vessels to oil companies operating in Nigeria, said on Sunday that her company was focussed on the safe release of the hostages.
"We are very focussed on getting our crew back safely," Corrie van Kessel told AFP on telephone.
She declined to say categorically if contacts have been established with the abductors and efforts being made to secure their freedom, saying that releasing such information "could jeopardize current efforts."
Van Kessel confirmed that the four abducted foreigners were from Indonesia, Iran, Malaysia and Thailand.
Sea Trucks Group is heavily involved in the oil and gas sector in the Niger Delta.The group, which also operates in Australia and East Asia, was founded as a Nigerian firm in 1977 before expanding and currently has a "corporate support office" in the Netherlands, according to its website.
Aliyu said during the attack "four expatriates are reported to have been kidnapped from the vessel; two sailors were killed."
Aliyu said six naval personnel were stationed on board the Sea Trucks Group vessel following a security request from the company.
The gunmen also shot and wounded two others while the remaining two escaped unhurt, he said.The motive for the attack and the identities of the gunmen are still unknown, added Aliyu.
The attack took place before dawn on Saturday, 35 nautical miles off Nigeria's oil-rich Niger Delta coastal area, the navy and company said.
The volatile area was for years crippled by armed insurgency, largely made up of militants who claimed the region's prosperous oil industry was not benefitting the local population and destroying the environment.
Armed groups in the Delta were notorious for kidnapping oil workers, especially foreigners.
A 2009 amnesty deal greatly reduced the unrest, but sporadic incidents have continued to occur including robberies and, most prominently, piracy.
The International Maritime Bureau (IMB) said in a report released last month that there had been 32 piracy incidents recorded in the Gulf of Guinea in the first half of 2012, up from the 25 attacks in 2011.
Original here - Agence France-Presse

Chinese Warship Runs Aground on Philippine Reef

2012-07-13T19:12:00.004-07:00

MANILA -- As China's leadership continues to press its claim on territory that the Philippines also claims for itself, a Chinese warship has run aground on a reef off Palawan while patrolling contested waters in the South China Sea/West Philippine Sea, an Australian newspaper reported on Friday.

The report came as the Philippine government started verifying reports that China had installed a powerful radar on Subi Reef, an islet 22 kilometers from the Philippine-occupied Kalayaan group of islands in the Spratly archipelago.

Reporter John Gaurnaut of The Sydney Morning Herald, citing unnamed Western diplomatic sources, said the People’s Liberation Army’s naval ship No. 560 became “thoroughly stuck” on a reef at Half Moon Shoal during the previous night.

The warship is a Jianghu-class frigate “that has in the past been involved in aggressively discouraging Filipino fishing boats from the area,” the Morning Herald said.

The Philippines refers to Half Moon Shoal as Hasa-Hasa Shoal, which military sources said is only about 111 km (60 nautical miles) from the municipality of Rizal on the main island of Palawan province, well
within the country’s 370-km (200-nautical-mile) exclusive economic zone. Mayor Eugenio Bito-onon of Kalayaan in Palawan confirmed the incident and said it has been 10 days since it happened according to field reports.

Military sources suspect people smugglers deliberately capsized boats

2012-07-02T18:35:00.000-07:00

Ian McPhedran
The Daily Telegraph
July 03, 2012

PEOPLE smugglers may have deliberately capsized two boats between Java and Christmas Island last month, killing 94 people, military sources suspect.

As another rickety vessel carrying 39 people was intercepted on Sunday night, authorities are investigating whether crews scuttled the fishing craft in a bid to hasten rescue efforts.

Military sources strongly suspect the first vessel to capsize, on June 21, was deliberately turned over so survivors could cling to the upturned hull.

The second vessel foundered on June 27 after taking on water in very calm seas, and two of its four crew members were removed by a second boat.

"Before she foundered we received a distress call saying, 'We are capsizing'," a defence source said.

A navy source said it was highly unusual for two boats to turn over in the same area within a few days of each other: "The sea at the time of both incidents was not rough."

The Gillard government is set to announce a whole-of-government review of the response by Australian agencies - including Border Protection Command, Customs, Defence and Immigration - into the twin tragedies.

Australian Federal Police officers and the West Australian Coroner have begun interviewing survivors about tactics used by the smugglers.

The first boat got into trouble about 100km south of Java and the second about 20km northwest of that position.

Ninety people died in the first disaster and four in the second, despite the best efforts of the navy patrol boats HMAS Wollongong, Larrakia and Maitland, the survey ship HMAS Leeuwin and merchant vessels.

A government source said, while there was no direct evidence the boats had been deliberately capsized, statements from witnesses - including passengers, rescuers, and navy, RAAF and Border Protection Command observers - had raised alarm bells.

"This is a dramatic escalation and it is suspicious," a government source said.

Up to 300 refugees a week arrive at Jakarta international airport on one-way tickets en route to people smuggling vessels bound for Australia.

As the boat people continue to pour in, the navy is bracing for sailors suffering from psychological damage after pulling dozens of dead bodies and hurt people from the sea.

Somali piracy death toll rises as violence worsens

2012-06-23T03:03:00.001-07:00

Piracy, on the high sea but in custody.....Somali pirates seizing Indian Ocean ships were responsible for at least 35 hostage deaths in 2011, a report showed on Friday, with levels of violence rising.
The number of prisoners taken by pirates fell to 555, at least, in 2011 from 645 in 2010, the report by the US-based One Earth Future foundation and International Maritime Bureau said.
Eight were known to have been killed by their captors either during their initial capture or were executed later, it said, with another eight dying of malnutrition or disease. The remainder were killed either during rescue attempts by military forces or while trying to escape.

Centre for Seapower Studies, Maritime Strategy and Naval Affairs

2012-06-12T01:29:00.002-07:00

Well, the grim home page of the CSPS suggests predominantly rainy days in Britain, but its nice to see other pages have a splash of colour too......

Click here for the active page of Centre for Seapower Studies, Maritime Strategy and Naval Affairs, UK.

IMO helps strengthen international resolve to tackle piracy

2012-06-07T19:34:00.003-07:00

Despite unprecedented efforts to combat piracy off the coast of Somalia, pirates had expanded their reach and had become more violent and technically adept, and international actors must redouble their efforts to solve the problem in the context of an overall solution to the Somalia crisis, a senior United Nations political affairs official told the Security Council this afternoon.

“The fight against piracy off the coast of Somalia can only be won through an integrated strategy that tackles deterrence, security the rule of law and development”, Taye-Brook Zerihoun, Assistant Secretary-General for Political Affairs, said as he introduced the Secretary-General’s reports on piracy in the region (document S/2011/662) and on the natural resources and waters of Somalia (document S/2011/661). “Counter piracy efforts should be an integral element of the Somalia peace process,” he added.

(Full text ..... click here)

Preparing for Today’s Undersea Warfare

2012-06-05T17:07:00.000-07:00

Published on U.S. Naval Institute (http://www.usni.org)
Proceedings Magazine - June 2012 Vol. 138/6/1,312 [7]

Vice Admiral John M. Richardson and Lieutenant Joel Ira Holwitt, USN

Undersea warriors must learn from the past while handling a sophisticated network of manned and unmanned platforms and sensors.

As we draw down our land forces in Iraq and Afghanistan, there is renewed awareness that the United States is a maritime nation. Our fortune has been inextricably linked to our Navy since the nation’s birth. The bicentennial commemorations of the War of 1812 in many ways reflect this connection. Perhaps the most conclusive outcome of that war was that the United States was not going to be re-assimilated into the United Kingdom—and its fledgling but bold Navy was a decisive factor.

In the May 2012 issue of Proceedings , Under Secretary of the Navy Robert Work provided a compelling interpretation of President Barack Obama and Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta’s recently issued Sustaining U.S. Global Leadership: Priorities for 21st Century Defense . Work sees it as a blueprint for “a Naval Century: a new golden age of American sea power.” His article provides a sweeping vision of the way ahead into this era as a natural, fully executable continuation of our nation’s maritime trajectory.

Now, no navigator worth his salt sails nonchalantly into unknown waters. Even the submarine ace Commander Dudley W. “Mush” Morton, who had a reputation for recklessness, used a blown-up almanac map as a very rough chart when he and the crew of the USS Wahoo (SS-238) daringly penetrated Wewak Harbor submerged in broad daylight. 1 As we set sail into this Naval Century, we’re in far better shape. To guide our course, Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Jonathan Greenert has provided definitive guidance in his Sailing Directions and Navigation Plan . Together, these two documents provide an exposition of his three tenets—Warfighting First, Operate Forward, Be Ready—from the strategic-operational level down to budget-submission priorities.

No naval professional can read the under secretary’s article and the CNO’s guidance without hearing the general alarm: It’s time to move out smartly. These documents constitute a clear call for action that finds the balancing point between our new resources and our new goals. For undersea warriors, the President’s Sustaining U.S. Global Leadership and the CNO’s two documents are sobering, amplifying our historic role of controlling the global commons on the seas while facilitating naval and joint-force access. A few excerpts illustrate the pivotal role that undersea forces must play in the future security environment (italics added):
Sustaining U.S. Global Leadership: The Blueprint

• The U.S. military will invest as required to ensure its ability to operate effectively in anti-access and area-denial (A2/AD) environments. This will include implementing the Joint Operational Access Concept, sustaining our undersea capabilities , developing a new stealth bomber, improving missile defenses, and continuing efforts to enhance the resiliency and effectiveness of critical space-based capabilities.

• Maintain a Safe, Secure, and Effective Nuclear Deterrent . As long as nuclear weapons remain in existence, the United States will maintain a safe, secure, and effective arsenal.
Guidance from the CNO

From Sailing Directions :

• The Navy will continue to dominate the undersea domain using a network of sensors and platforms—with expanded reach and persistence from unmanned autonomous systems.

And from Navigation Plan :

• Increase near-term mine warfare capability with . . . unmanned underwater vehicles (UUVs) for shallow and bottom-mine detection.

• Build proven ships and aircraft: Arleigh Burke –class destroyers, San Antonio –class amphibious ships, Virginia -class submarines, MH-60 R/S hel-icopters, F/A-18 Super Hornets, E/A-18 Growlers, and E-2D Hawkeyes.

• Improve the reach of today’s platforms through new payloads of more capable weapons, sensors, and unmanned vehicles to include . . . submarine-launched conventional strike weapon.

• Continue to dominate the undersea environment with a combination of Virginia -class submarines, Virginia -class payload modules, improved torpedoes such as the Mk 54 lightweight torpedo and P-8A high-altitude ASW weapon capability, and large displacement UUV.

• Maintain credible and survivable strategic deterrence; develop SSBN(X) as the Ohio -class replacement while maintaining today’s number of available SSBNs.

• Improve ASW sensor reliability and performance, including towed-array maintenance and modernization.

• Increase the inventory of decoys, sonobuoys, and torpedoes for Fleet ASW training.

• Sustain Fleet Synthetic Training to provide a wider range of complex and demanding simulations than possible in the field, while conserving operating expenses where appropriate.

The Navy’s submarine force leaders have been focused on the responsibilities posed by the new security environment. On 20 July 2011, the anniversary of the first launch of a Polaris missile from the USS George Washington (SSBN-598) in 1960, the Design for Undersea Warfare was promulgated to address today’s challenges. It was structured along three lines of effort: Operations and War-fighting, Ready Forces, and Future Forces.

This went far to align our capabilities in support of achieving tangible goals, and to guide the undersea force’s activities to maintain superiority in that domain. As we begin the process of updating the design in light of the new strategic guidance, we can use lessons of the past to navigate the waters of the future. And as we undertake this responsibility to execute our higher commander’s guidance, it becomes apparent that we are at the dawn of a fourth generation of undersea warfare.
Generation I: The Basics

The first undersea-warfare generation focused on designing a submarine that could succeed as a viable warship. The rapid change in submarine technology during this era is reflected in the career of Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz, who commanded the USS Plunger (SS-2) as an ensign in 1909. The Plunger was a small seven-man submarine that could go only 8.5 knots on the surface, stay submerged for 4 hours at slow speed, and carry 2 torpedoes. Thirty-two years later, as a four-star admiral, Nimitz assumed command of the Pacific Fleet on board the 70-man submarine Grayling (SS-209), which could go 21 knots on the surface, stay submerged for 48 hours at 2 knots, and carry 24 torpedoes. 2

Throughout much of the first generation, submarine operations, tactics, training, characteristics, design, and construction were dictated by the requirements of War Plan Orange, the U.S. Navy’s strategy for its most likely adversary, Japan. It charged the submarine force with supporting the U.S. Fleet as it sailed into the western Pacific Ocean to conduct an island-hopping campaign that would ultimately lead to the blockade of Japan. 3 To support the plan, the submarine force identified two primary missions: operating independently in enemy waters in place of aircraft and surface ships, and as a scout ahead of the fleet, or as a naval skirmisher to soften up the enemy fleet before the surface fleet engaged. 4 To accomplish these missions, the ideal “fleet submarine” required long range, high surface speed, and sufficient weaponry. 5

Unfortunately, based on an unrealistically conservative assessment of adversary antisubmarine capabilities, the submarine force prepared for combat with canned training exercises in which potential targets zigzagged while under heavy protection by extremely alert aircraft and surface vessels. To avoid detection (and criticism from their superiors) in these challenging scenarios, submarine commanders developed tactics to operate slowly, remain below 125 feet, and rely on passive sonar for an attack. 6

Within five hours of the attack on Pearl Harbor, the strategic rationale that underpinned the fleet submarine’s design and doctrine was jettisoned when CNO Admiral Harold R. Stark ordered unrestricted submarine warfare against Japan. No longer able to scout ahead of the sunken battle fleet, the submarine force instead sailed out to commence warfare and conduct operations independent of the Fleet. Entering the war largely unprepared for the mission that faced them, while remaining innovative and persistent, these submariners defined the second generation of undersea warfare. 7
Generation II: Warfighting Sea Legs

Nimitz said of the World War II Pacific Fleet: “It was to the submarine force that I looked to carry the load until our great industrial activity could produce the weapons we so sorely needed to carry the war to the enemy.” The story of the successful U.S. submarine campaign against Japan has been chronicled many times and need not be discussed in detail. Although fleet submarines were not designed for commerce raiding, their characteristics made them perfect commerce raiders in a warfighting domain defined by the broad geography of the western and South Pacific. It’s also important to note that although the primary mission of the World War II submarine force was commerce interdiction, subs proved exceptionally versatile, sinking a lion’s share of the Japanese navy, landing commandos in the South Pacific, conducting photo reconnaissance of beaches for amphibious landings, and acting as lifeguards for downed naval aviators. 8

This warfighting environment required a shift in tactics and training, accompanied by a similar change in commanding officers. Within three years the age of the youngest U.S. submarine commanders dropped by a decade, and younger officers boldly charged into situations that leaders would never have countenanced before the war. As a result, and after overcoming significant difficulties with inappropriate tactics and malfunctioning torpedoes, U.S. submarines sank 55 percent of all Japanese ships. 9

A great deal of the success in Generation II was due to the technical excellence of the U.S. submarine force’s industrial base—a quality that continues today. During Generation I, there were many shipbuilders and different “classes” of submarine, as the daring inventors and operators drove to develop a vessel that could be used as a warship. The motivation that guided the development of the fleet boat was to prove obsolete after the attack on Pearl Harbor, as noted previously, but the innate benefits of speed, endurance, stealth, and payload proved supremely useful when the mission switched to commerce raiding.

While doctrine, leadership, and torpedo development all needed major revisions to become effective, the basic fleet boat, first the Tambor and then the Gato and Balao classes, was largely the same basic design; no major revolutionary changes occurred from one class to the next. What did happen was a steady evolutionary pace of advancement, both between successive classes but also, importantly, within a given class.

Comparison of any fleet boat at the war’s beginning with one in 1945 makes clear the warfighting impact of evolutionary upgrades in weapons (guns and eventually torpedoes), radios, and sensors—particularly the SJ Radar, which enabled the “end around” tactic against enemy shipping, in which a sub could determine the course and speed of a target from ranges over the horizon and out of visible range, while remaining undetected on the surface. There, faster speed enabled the crew to take a position ahead of the target, submerge on its track, and wait for it to come toward the attack. Innovative advances such as these made new tactics possible and served to keep the enemy off balance throughout the war. The evolutionary approach to advancement continues today: Los Angeles –class submarines for years have benefited from the Advanced Rapid COTS Insertion (ARCI) model that leverages commercial technologies to keep sensors, processors, and software paced with industry’s advances. This has resulted in significant warfighting-capability gains and equally important cost avoidance. The approach of evolutionary innovation and improvement within a submarine class has become fully integrated into the design of today’s Generation IV Virginia -class submarine.

But the most important development of this period was that “the submariner” became truly defined. This unique sailor was a dedicated team player in a high-stakes part of the war. The submarine force was always all-volunteer. These service members were first subjected to intense training in Submarine School, where engineering, tactics, and survival skills were taught. Only the very best passed the test and reported to the fleet, where another challenge—submarine qualification—began.

New sailors had to learn every aspect of the boat, essentially being able to perform any job on the vessel at sea. The combination of the rigorous qualification standard, confined quarters below the sea, highly classified operations, and extreme danger formed the “Silent Service,” a tightly bound band of undersea warriors that comprised only about 6 percent of the Navy’s people. That share is largely intact today.

These submariners were masters of innovation and creativity. Armed with deep expertise and innate intelligence and stamina that allowed for precise teamwork, they were able to outthink, outlast, and outfox the enemy. It was they, more than any other weapon in the arsenal, who were key to the submarine force’s success. This remains true today.

At the end of World War II, the U.S. submarine force briefly found itself in a period of transition and drastic reductions. But the force went forward with the development of greater underwater propulsion power submarines, which incorporated streamlined hulls, advanced batteries, and snorkels, making possible extended submerged underways and higher underwater speeds. It was also during the late 1940s and early 1950s that the submarine force began the research and development of nuclear-powered and teardrop-shaped submarines, bringing about the third generation of undersea warfare. 10
Generation III: Nuclear and ASW Strategic Deterrence

In 1992, when the strategic submarine force completed its 3,000th strategic-deterrent patrol (by the USS Tennessee [SSBN-734]), General Colin Powell noted that “America’s nuclear-powered ballistic-missile submarine fleet” had been largely responsible for winning the Cold War. The submarine force’s wisdom in persevering with development was validated as the Soviet navy’s submarines became increasingly advanced and the United States fully committed to the newly established NATO. In the event of a third world war, the fate of the free nations of Europe would depend on the rapid resupply of the outnumbered NATO forces. Just as did the Germans with U-boats in World Wars I and II, the Soviets would undoubtedly attempt to interdict these convoys in the Atlantic. This threat alone justified a significant investment in antisubmarine warfare. 11 The strategic reality of the Soviet presence in Europe dictated a new mission for the U.S. submarine force.

Additionally, in the late 1950s, following the development of the intercontinental ballistic missile, both the U.S. and Soviet navies feverishly worked to develop the submarine-launched ballistic missile (SLBM). With the ability to relocate almost anywhere in world and remain hidden from aerial reconnaissance, SLBMs proved to be the most survivable and reliable leg of the nuclear triad. For the U.S. submarine force, the rise of SLBMs reinforced the importance of antisubmarine warfare as well as creating a new mission: strategic deterrence. 12 As intelligence would eventually make clear, the primary mission of the Soviet submarine force was to establish secure bastions near the homeland in which their strategic submarines could remain under way and hidden. By this means they hoped to preserve a decisive and survivable strike capability. Once this Soviet strategy was discerned, it became a primary mission of the U.S. submarine force to hold those Soviet SSBNs at risk.

Both antisubmarine warfare and strategic deterrence required submarines with an acoustic advantage and the ability to remain submerged for prolonged periods. After significant experimentation and innovation, the Silent Service achieved the acoustic advantage through better sonars, superior sound silencing, and an understanding of oceanography. Simultaneously, the submarine force harnessed the advantage of nuclear power. This meant the vessels could remain submerged indefinitely and travel immense distances at high speed, with no need to refuel or spend significant time at periscope depth for air. 13

By the end of the Cold War, the submarine force had successfully performed as a credible and reliable U.S. nuclear deterrent, holding at risk the Soviet ballistic-missile submarine force. This achievement, in the absence of any combat evolutions that would have validated or invalidated the force’s strategy, was almost unprecedented. It required “the kind of technical and doctrinal innovation which is normally considered rare in military organizations in peacetime.” 14

Much as occurred during the gradual transition between the second and third generations near the end of World War II, no sharp divide separated the third and fourth generations near the Cold War’s end. Although the Soviet menace vanished almost overnight, highly capable adversaries did not disappear. The submarine force has had to continue to execute missions similar to those of the Cold War. Precision strike had already emerged, but it evolved and became the submarine force’s primary combat mission area of the 1990s. 15

Despite the lack of a monolithic adversary threat, the force knew it needed to evolve its capabilities to keep pace with those of potential threats. Much as its leadership at the end of World War II embraced the potential of nuclear power and correctly chose to explore new designs and technologies, the submarine force at the end of the Cold War appropriately embraced the promise of advanced computer processing and digital technology, producing a superior and effective replacement for the Los Angeles class with the Virginia . And just as the undersea challenge of the Cold War did not become fully clear until the USS Nautilus (SSN-571) was in the water, the situation confronting Generation IV is just now becoming clear. A new security environment is taking shape, and Virginia -class submarines are joining the Fleet in growing numbers.
Generation IV: Undersea Networks

The maritime-security environment that distinguishes Generation IV is largely defined by two broad trends. One is the movement toward increasingly pervasive combat networks that combine ubiquitous intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance; longer-range, responsive, and precise weapons (including cyber and space weapons with near-instantaneous global reach); and increasingly high-bandwidth command-and-control networks to connect the ubiquitous sensors with the longer-range weapons. The other trend is the persistence of very simple weapons—groups of mines, salvos of rockets, swarms of small craft—that can impose an asymmetric cost even on an advanced force in a close-quarters fight.

The combination of these rapidly proliferating approaches permits adversaries to attack from close in or at great distance—concentrated in time and space with unprecedented precision. Consequently, our Navy’s traditional standoff ranges have become less and less protective. More than ever, it is easy to be “seen,” which can lead to being targeted and, increasingly, hit. These trends combine in ways that are tailored to the user, to produce a uniquely designed system of systems that can deny access to an area altogether, or can severely limit freedom of action within an area—an A2/AD network.

The implications for undersea warfare are far-reaching. Just as in World War II, our missions in the A2/AD environment will pertain to operating in increasingly large areas of the maritime domain where non-stealthy forces are more vulnerable to attack. While many forces will be working to fight from the “outside in,” undersea forces will fight from the “inside out,” working closely with other low-profile forces (such as stealth aircraft and special-operations forces) within the A2/AD radius, to create chaos and disruption for the enemy and opportunities for our joint force. These operations will be focused on using the stealth, endurance, and payload of undersea forces to exercise freedom of maneuver inside an aggressor’s network barriers and enable access for the rest of the Navy and joint force. In other words, networked undersea forces will act as a key to unlock the door for decisive force to enter the fight and seize and maintain the initiative.
Not a Moment to Lose

As the saying goes, “If you want a new idea, read an old book.” As we work to expand the concept from submarine force to undersea forces—networked manned and unmanned platforms and sensors—to achieve decisive effect in Generation IV, it is instructive to remember successes from past generations. We must do this with some urgency.

As a top priority, we need to replace the sea-based leg of the strategic-deterrent force. This imperative will remain as far into the future as we can see. Both Sustaining U.S. Global Leadership and the Navigation Plan call out this requirement. We need to get the design right, fully considerate of affordability, and we need to execute within cost and schedule. But we must also be mindful that we cannot afford to build the undersea version of the B-18 bomber. This aircraft—designed, purchased, and built during the Depression in the 1930s—proved almost useless on delivery. It was deficient in range, speed, bomb load, and defensive capability. The submarine class that replaces the current Ohio -class SSBNs potentially will be in service until the 2080s, and we must get it right the first time for the critical and challenging mission it will execute.

Other areas in which the undersea forces should look for lessons from the past include communications security and payloads. The need for the former is hardly a new concept to the submarine force. Indeed, the lack of communications security doomed German efforts to win the Battle of the Atlantic in World War II. Despite a popular narrative to the contrary, Grand Admiral Karl Dönitz’s Wolfpack strategy required significant ship-to-shore transmissions, which allowed Allied escorts to localize U-boat positions with high-frequency direction finding and also to outflank the boats’ positions once the Enigma codes had been broken. 16

But it is an oversimplification to merely turn off radios and operate in EMCON. The need for communications security is in direct tension with a network, which it will take to defeat the A2/AD networks we confront. Prioritized, secure communications techniques are an imperative. So too is developing a cadre of leaders, from the strategic to tactical level, who can craft and employ effective mission-type orders that do not rely on continuous high-bandwidth comms, but succeed by promulgating thoughtful commander’s guidance that allows subordinate commanders to take advantage of local opportunities, advance the campaign, and provide feedback.

Strike warfare is an excellent example of this tension. Currently, strike from a submarine requires extensive radio communications, with multiple masts exposed out of the water. Although this was not a significant vulnerability against low-end enemies, it will be fatal against high-end adversaries whose drones are continuously searching to sight periscopes or masts and whose shore-side or space-based antennae are scanning all radio frequencies and locating the transmitters. Consequently, before we consider conducting strike warfare or cyber warfare inside an advanced A2/AD network, we must simplify and minimize communications, provide more independence to commanders, and research and develop new technologies that will permit less-vulnerable communications with our undersea forces, even when they are deep.

Winning inside an A2/AD network will also require us to update our weapons and payload inventory. Right now our submarines carry a mixture of Mk 48 Advanced Capability (ADCAP) torpedoes and Tomahawk land-attack missiles (TLAMs). Although ADCAP was originally designed to destroy high-speed, deep-diving Soviet Alfa -class titanium-hulled submarines, a program of ongoing evolutionary enhancements has enabled it to remain effective against a broad range of ship and submarine threats. 17 However, it is still a single heavyweight acoustic homing torpedo, and limitations in range and ability to treat diversifying undersea targets must be addressed.

Similarly, although the TLAM has been an evolutionary workhorse in precision strike, it may not have the range or hold the punch necessary to disable targets in a modern, fortressed battle network. As we update our various categories of undersea payloads to address the broader array of targets we need to hold at risk, and as we anticipate the implications of a smaller undersea force, we need to plan for the necessary changes in the undersea payload volume on our newest attack submarines.
Meet the New Realities

Finally, we need to renew our studies about how to optimally employ limited undersea assets. Admittedly, it would be great if we had the luxury to pick and choose missions that we will no longer execute. But the enemy gets a vote. Today’s strategic environment is like a game of three- or four-player chess—in a battlespace consisting of geographic, oceanographic/acoustic, and, increasingly, cyber/information layers. In our current fiscally tight environment, we must look to increase the flexibility and capacity of the submerged payload, then prioritize limited available undersea assets and deploy them where they are most needed. This requires full teaming of submarines with land, surface, and air forces to launch, employ, and recover undersea payloads when it is optimum for them to do so. Undersea forces must expand and enhance the impact of the current submarine force.

Once again, this experience is not new. Our predecessors—even in the first generation, during the fiscally lean decades of the 1920s and 1930s—held numerous conferences and studiously analyzed the results of war games at the Naval War College and Fleet Problems at sea to assess the best characteristics, tactics, and new technologies required to create the fleet submarine. 18 The periods after World War II and the Cold War were marked by extremely creative approaches to employing new technologies.

Working with the Naval Warfare Development Command and Naval Undersea Warfare Command, today’s undersea forces are conducting war games and seminars to identify concepts and technologies that should be researched and possibly developed. Among some of the exciting capabilities with which we are forging ahead are UUVs (including armed), cyber-warfare, and soft-kill technologies. We are working to ensure that we do not repeat the painful experience of Generation II, when we were a force unprepared for the conflict that arrived on our doorstep. In future warfare, it is unlikely we will have the time to “regroup” that we had at the beginning of World War II.

The President, Secretary of Defense, and CNO have given us clear direction and a call to action. As the character of Generation IV of undersea warfare becomes clear, the concepts, technologies, and, most important, dedicated and adaptive people must deliver against the challenges of the new security environment. Just as our past generations of undersea warriors were courageous in adversity and relentless in their pursuit of new opportunities, we fourth-generation undersea warriors must be bold and visionary. It’s time to get under way, rig for dive, and submerge ourselves in meeting the new realities of this era.

Source URL: http://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/2012-06/preparing-today%E2%80%99s-undersea-warfare