Getting PNG’s Foreign Policy History Right: From Friends to All to Active and Selective Engagement

Jesher Tilto’s recent editorial, “Time to move from aid to trade,” published in The National, is a strong piece of writing. It makes the case that PNG must move beyond aid dependency and anchor its foreign policy in trade and strategic partnerships. The prose is sharp, the argument is persuasive, and the subject matter is timely. Few would disagree with the urgency of Tilto’s call for a more coherent foreign policy framework to guide PNG’s external engagements.

That said, accuracy in foreign policy history matters, and here the editorial falls short. Tilto asserts that PNG’s foreign policy has remained unchanged since 1975 under the banner of “friends to all, enemies to none.” This is not correct. As someone who has taught PNG foreign policy for the last ten years, I can say confidently that PNG’s foreign policy has not been static. It has undergone important reviews and revisions that have shaped the nation’s international posture.

The most notable review occurred in 1979. That review culminated in the 1981 parliamentary approval of PNG’s first Foreign Policy White Paper, which adopted the framework of “Active and Selective Engagement.” This shift moved the country from the broad, idealist language of “friends to all, enemies to none” to a more pragmatic orientation that allowed PNG to choose which relationships to prioritise and which to limit. To overlook this development is to erase a decisive moment in PNG’s foreign policy history. 

PNG’s landmark 1981 Foreign Policy White Paper, tabled in Parliament after a two-year review, marked the formal shift from the guiding principle of ‘Friends to all, enemies to none’ to the pragmatic approach of ‘Active and Selective Engagement.

It is also important to clarify that “friends to all, enemies to none” is best understood as a guiding principle rather than a foreign policy in itself. It echoes other well-known principles such as non-interference and peaceful co-existence, ideas which are also embedded in China’s foreign policy tradition. PNG has always valued these principles, but the move to “Active and Selective Engagement” signalled a maturation of policy—recognising that principles must be applied selectively in practice to defend national interest.

Why does this distinction matter? Because if we accept the narrative that PNG’s foreign policy has been unchanged since independence, we risk portraying the country as lacking agency, as if it never adapted or recalibrated. In truth, PNG has demonstrated the ability to review and adjust its foreign policy when circumstances demand. This precedent is crucial for present debates about whether the government should finally ratify a new foreign policy white paper. It shows that reform is not radical—it is part of PNG’s historical trajectory.

The historical error also weakens current arguments for policy innovation. If one believes nothing has changed for fifty years, then a new white paper looks like an unprecedented rupture. But if one acknowledges the 1979 review and the 1981 white paper, then today’s calls for review are entirely consistent with PNG’s practice of reassessing foreign policy as the regional and global environment evolves. Accuracy strengthens the case for reform; inaccuracy undermines it.

Foreign Minister Noel Levi tabled PNG’s 1981 Foreign Policy White Paper in Parliament, the outcome of a major review. (Papua New Guinea Foreign Affairs Review, Vol. 1, No. 4, Jan 1982).

Correcting the record is therefore essential. A more accurate statement would be that PNG’s foreign policy has been rooted in the principle of “friends to all, enemies to none” since independence, but was formally reviewed in 1979 and rearticulated in the 1981 White Paper on “Active and Selective Engagement.” This framing preserves the importance of the principle while acknowledging the selective pragmatism that has guided policy since the early 1980s.

Foreign policy debates require clarity, not mythology. Tilto’s editorial deserves praise for its central argument about moving from aid to trade, but the factual slip in narrating PNG’s foreign policy history must be corrected. Recognising PNG’s tradition of adaptation empowers us to engage with the future. As PNG navigates aid fatigue, geopolitical rivalry, and the pressures of trade, it must draw not on a myth of policy inertia but on the reality of selective engagement. History shows we have shifted before, and we can do so again—anchored in principle, but driven by pragmatism.

To ensure these debates are grounded in fact, writers should turn to authoritative sources. Although the Papua New Guinea Foreign Affairs Review is no longer published, it remains the most authoritative archival record of PNG’s foreign policy history. Copies are held in the New Guinea Collection at the University of PNG library and in the Noser Library at Divine Word University. Consulting these archives is essential for accuracy and for strengthening the national conversation on foreign policy.