Mark Brown, Cook Islands prime minister, left, and Winston Peters, foreign affairs minister in Rarotonga, February 2024. (Photo: RNZ Pacific/Eleisha Foon)

New Zealand’s aid freeze to the Cook Islands exposes the fragile foundations of Pacific sovereignty and a widening trust gap between the two countries, writes law lecturer Sione Tekiteki.

 

The freezing of nearly $20 million in aid to the Cook Islands by foreign affairs minister Winston Peters marks more than a diplomatic disagreement. It also exposes the fragile foundations of Pacific sovereignty and the widening trust gap between “Realm” partners.

At the heart of the dispute is the Cook Islands’ decision to sign a strategic partnership with China, a move Wellington claims breaches the consultation obligation under a 2001 agreement between the two countries. But that agreement — the Joint Centenary Declaration, which marked 100 years since the Cook Islands became part of the Realm of New Zealand — isn’t a legal treaty. It’s a political understanding, framed within the broader relationship of free association.

But behind this language of consultation and national interest is a question that rarely gets raised: When New Zealand makes its own strategic decisions, does it consult the Cook Islands?

For decades, New Zealand — alongside its partners in the Five Eyes intelligence alliance (Australia, the US, the UK, and Canada) — has been quietly surveilling Pacific states. In 2015, for example, documents leaked by Edward Snowden revealed that New Zealand’s signals intelligence agency, the Government Communications Security Bureau (GCSB), has been conducting surveillance on Pacific nations, including Fiji, Sāmoa, Solomon Islands, French Polynesia and Tonga, and sharing that data with its Five Eyes allies.

At the time, it was argued that New Zealand has a right to spy on Pacific nations, which it has been doing for decades, because “corruption, self-interest, and idiocy stalks their capitals.”

While the Waihopai spy domes — long symbolic of New Zealand’s intelligence gathering — were dismantled in 2022, GCSB operations continue through other means: New Zealand remains fully engaged in intelligence-sharing and surveillance as part of Five Eyes.

Surveillance of Pacific nations isn’t conducted solely by our so-called traditional allies — the Pacific is watched by everyone, including China. It’s debatable whether Pacific leaders are ever fully informed about what’s being collected and shared under these highly classified arrangements.

And whatever happens with the agreement in the future, it’s clear that the Cooks will continue to be surveilled by New Zealand. As the director-general of the New Zealand Security Intelligence Service said in the aftermath of the signing of the Cook Islands-China agreement: “The Cook Islands is developing deeper relationships with other parties. This will necessitate an even stronger focus from my agency on national security risks.”

New Zealand was aware of the pending Cook Islands-China agreement and even sent intelligence officials to advise the Cook Islands’ prime minister, Mark Brown. This suggests that the issue here isn’t simply about consultation — it’s also about defiance.

As geopolitical competition heats up across the Pacific, so too does the race to strengthen security, intelligence and surveillance capabilities. Everyone claims the moral high ground, but few act with transparency or genuine openness. That’s why “consultation” has become such a sensitive term. It’s driven less by mutual respect and more by strategic insecurity.

And yet, the Cook Islands, in seeking to diversify its relationships, is being scolded for failing to consult. Under the principles of free association, both New Zealand and the Cook Islands are expected to consult each other on foreign affairs, defence and security issues — especially when one party’s actions may affect the other.

But in practice, the expectation is one-sided. Does New Zealand consult the Cook Islands on its own sensitive security arrangements, such as Five Eyes intelligence sharing, cyber-surveillance activities, or strategic dialogues with AUKUS (Australia, UK, US) or QUAD (a security group involving the US, Japan, Australia, and India)? It’s doubtful — unless it’s in New Zealand’s interests.

If what the Cook Islands does affects New Zealand, then surely what New Zealand does affects the Cook Islands. But the reality is that one side retains the upper hand.

New Zealand behaves less like a partner and more like a strategic guardian from whom the Cook Islands must seek permission. This power imbalance speaks to a deeper truth: Pacific nations are often treated as never fully “sovereign” actors because their choices are already highly constrained.

This is the bind facing Cook Islands PM Mark Brown. He may be ready to test the limits of strategic autonomy, but his people may not be willing to follow, especially when New Zealand starts waving its aces: First, it was passports, and now it’s aid.

These are powerful levers. They underpin social protections and access to jobs, healthcare, education, and migration opportunities for thousands of Cook Islanders. When those benefits are put at risk, the backlash is swift. We saw this after the China deal was signed, with protests and a vote of no confidence in the Cook Islands parliament. The outcry wasn’t just about the agreement. It was what people feared they might lose.

The fear reflects external pressure, yes. But it also reveals something internal: a deep sense of dependency, shaped over generations. It’s why the requirement to “consult” functions less as a shared duty and more as a tool of conditional sovereignty. It’s a reminder of who ultimately holds the stronger hand.

Yes, China’s actions in the Pacific are a cause for concern. But it’s not just China. New Zealand, along with our so-called traditional partners, has backed exclusive security groupings like AUKUS, QUAD and the Partners in the Blue Pacific, often without meaningful Pacific participation.

This isn’t only about western double standards or China’s assertiveness.

Pacific governments are not passive victims. They are attempting to assert agency, to renegotiate the terms of engagement, and to exercise their right to choose in the face of intensifying climate, economic, social and strategic pressures.

But Pacific sovereignty is often rehearsed in rhetoric rather than realised in practice. When the Cook Islands signed an agreement with Beijing, it did so knowing the risk. That the risk eventuated so quickly is telling.

This isn’t the first time in 2025 that New Zealand has leveraged its aid. Earlier this year, it made similar threats to Kiribati after a diplomatic snub involving a missed meeting between Winston Peters and President Maamau.

New Zealand appears to be calculating that a harder line is justified in the current geopolitical climate. But in doing so, it risks losing something valuable: the moral authority it once had as a trusted partner, highly respected in the region for its low-key diplomacy.

Today, the Pacific is crowded with surveillance, public showings of assertiveness, and entrenched dependency. China courts Pacific nations with bilateral deals, and traditional partners respond with conditional aid and diplomatic pressure. Pacific governments try to assert themselves, making choices in their best interests, only to be reminded of their place. And each player insists that they’re just defending their own interests, leaving little room for mutual trust.

Until the region confronts the deeper questions of power, surveillance, and what genuine consultation really means, Pacific sovereignty will remain a performance: carefully managed, externally monitored, and shaped by the expectation of others.

Sione Tekiteki is a senior law lecturer at AUT and a former director at the Pacific Islands Forum Secretariat.

Sione Tekiteki is a senior lecturer at the Auckland University of Technology Law School. He was previously the director of governance and engagement at the Pacific Islands Forum Secretariat. He has over 20 years of experience in the Pacific, in the fields of international relations and regional governance.

E-Tangata, 2025

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