We Say 1

First, the Solomon Islands. Now, maybe, perhaps, Papua New Guinea, until 1975 an Australian colony, is to feel Australia's partially restored helping correctional hand. As Christmas approached, and with it this magazine's editorial deadline, Papua New Guinea's prime minister, Sir Michael Somare, was delaying his government's endorsement of a $A2500-million plan for inserting more than 300 Australian police and civilian bureaucrats as props for his country's rickety public service for up to five years.

He frostily fended off the portrayal of the plan by Australian commentators as a package imposed by Canberra for the rescue of what some politicians and bureaucrats there view as a failing state.

Several days before Somare's statement, nine of his cabinet ministers and their Australian counterparts, at a meeting at Adelaide, agreed on the strengthening of Papua New Guinea's police force with 230 Australian police placed in trouble spots and the appointment of Australian civilians to jobs in the judicial system, including an Australian solicitor-general and judges, and the civil aviation audit, finance and immigration departments. The prime minister said his cabinet had yet to make a final decision on accepting the plan.

After the first floating of it last August, Somare reacted angrily; his line was that Australia hoped to cloak the recolonisation of Papua New Guinea. After returning from Adelaide, Somare's senior cabinet colleague, Sir Rabbie Namaliu, took a newspaper advertisement to reject the notion that the plan was a Solomon Islands style "intervention" to avert the collapse of Papua New Guinea into "anarchy."

But in many places within the county, as well as beyond it, Papua New Guinea's political leaders cannot realistically expect the character of the Australian move to be seen as being other than what it actually is; a rescue. The history, scale and scope of the predicament Papua New Guinea has plunged itself into, is too well documented for it to be regarded as anything else.

Australia, Papua New Guinea's largest aid prop, is no longer prepared to tolerate glaring deficiencies of a government that erodes the value of its aid spending.

If the remedy for ending the futile drain of funds is not, as Somare insists, an imposed one, then it appears that Australia will not agree to greatly amend the formula should what it has offered be rejected.

The acceptance of 300 Australians into Papua New Guinea's government system would be an admission by its leadership of serious failure. This is why it is such a bitter pill to swallow, all the more so for Somare as the man who led his country to independence from Australian rule.

Somare has declared publicly that he is nearing the end of his political career, even as he has been striving to extend it with a controversial constitutional amendment. This would extend from 18 months to three years the period for which a government is immune to the risk of being brought down by a parliamentary no confidence vote.

There is hot opposition to this proposition, which the Somare government claims would bring the country the political stability needed for an effective good government. Critics such as the opposition leader and former Prime Minister, Sir Mekere Morauta, say it would merely double the time that the less honourable politicians entrenched in PNG's political life have for various forms of pillage.

Somare's supporters claim that without the amendment his government can retain power until at least mid 2004. Other forecasts are for a February change of government. It seems likely that whoever rules beyond then, will have an infusion of Australian influence to tolerate.