In Australia’s best interests, or someone else’s?
It wasn’t just the Lima Declaration, it was the global hegemony.
In late 2020, I connected with several constitutional experts who enlightened me on the Lima Declaration, amongst many other issues they believed had taken place in Australia. Prior to that moment, and probably like most Australians, I had never heard of the Lima Declaration.
Go forward almost five years, I’ve spoken often about Australia’s involvement in the Lima Declaration, questioning whether it truly served our nation’s best interests or was part of a broader takedown of the West. To this day, I remain convinced it was a deliberate attack on Western economies. Perhaps my scepticism is fuelled by what I witnessed in 2020.
Origins
From March 12–26, 1975, in Lima, Peru, Australia endorsed the Lima Declaration during the Second General Conference of the United Nations Industrial Development Organisation (UNIDO). The declaration wasn’t a treaty requiring formal signatures or ratification—it was a non-binding resolution adopted by conference attendees, including Australia’s representatives. To my knowledge, there was no single “signing” moment like a contract; it was a collective nod of agreement.
Intention
The 1975 Lima Declaration aimed to reshape global industrial development by promoting a “New International Economic Order” (NIEO). Another “Order” driven by globalists. Driven by developing nations and backed by the UN, it sought to address inequalities between the industrialised “First World” and the poorer “Third World.” The core goal was to accelerate industrial growth in developing countries. This wasn’t pure altruism—it was a strategic push to reduce reliance on wealthy nations, boost self-reliance, and shift economic power.
Today, China alone accounts for 26–30% of global manufacturing, with projections suggesting it could hit 45% by 2030. Emerging economies like India, Bangladesh, and parts of Asia and South America also contribute significantly. Some might call this benevolence worth embracing. But if I may, at what cost to Australia? If the aim was balance, it’s thrown the baby out with the bathwater for nations like ours.
We now export minerals and resources to these countries, who turn them into finished (often inferior) products we buy back at inflated prices. Shouldn’t foreign policy prioritise Australia’s interests? If so—and I believe it should—where are those interests today? In parks and beachfronts, where people live in cars and tents? In a gas cartel where 56% of our resources are practically given away while Australians pay exorbitant energy rates?
We shouldn’t be sub-imperial to any nation. That’s why we have partnerships and alliances—and where we disagree, diplomacy should bridge the gap.
Beyond wealth redistribution, the Lima Declaration sought trade reform and international collaboration. But what did those trade reforms deliver? For Australia and other Western nations, the consequences were devastating.
Global economist Doug Casey sums it up: “Here in America, and in many advanced economies across the world, an almost religious commitment to free and unfettered trade—at the expense of our national economies—shrunk the middle class, left the working class in crisis, collapsed industrial capacity, and pushed critical supply chains into the hands of adversaries and rivals. An irrational zeal for maximum freedom of movement has triggered a historic mass migration crisis in America and beyond, threatening the stability of societies and governments.”
In my view, this push toward a single global government took root post-WWII, when the US emerged as the world’s “Unipower.” Oppenheimer’s bomb sealed that fate. The world craved a leader to escape the chaos of repeated wars, and America stepped up. According to U.S. Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, “The postwar global order is not just obsolete; it is now a weapon being used against us.”
For Australia, this now fuels heated debate—some argue the Lima Declaration was a deliberate plot to gut local manufacturing. The truth? We can only judge by the facts.
The Fallout
The Declaration encouraged policies that aligned with globalization: open markets, reduced protectionism, and prioritised exports from places like Asia. What happened to Australia’s manufacturing? It shrank by over 90% from its peak. In fairness, this ties into broader trends—child labour rates and economic shifts—as much as the Lima Declaration itself.
The Declaration assumed rich nations like Australia would willingly scale back their industries. That didn’t fully happen—globalization favoured efficiency over equity, and power stayed concentrated. Yet developing nations like China prospered while Australia suffered. Our politicians either couldn’t grasp the situation, were blindsided, or towed the bipartisan line, too timid to challenge party policy.
Decisions by elected representatives can carry devastating, often unconsidered consequences. While the Lima Declaration didn’t mandate slashing manufacturing, employment in the sector plummeted—from 1.2 million jobs in the 1970s to under 800,000 by the 2000s. Its share of GDP dropped from 25% in the 1960s to under 6% today. Critics blame Gough Whitlam’s Labor government (via Foreign Minister Don Willesee) for endorsing it in 1975, claiming it opened the floodgates to cheap imports and offshoring. Who could argue otherwise?
Secret deals abound—in recent times, like the Pfizer and Moderna COVID vaccine contracts withheld from the public—only deepen the murkiness. The Declaration “coincided” with broader shifts: globalization, tariff cuts, and market deregulation. The Fraser government (1975–1983) began dismantling protectionism post-Lima, and Hawke-Keating (1983–1996) accelerated it—floating the dollar, opening trade, and lifting capital controls in 1985. That last move sent house prices soaring from 3x earnings to 8–15x today, depending on location. That and allowing student immigrants to buy into our market so as to avoid the GFC impacts.
What’s the smoking gun? While the Declaration did not ban local production, it in conjunction with other global forces that our governments participated in assisted in Australia’s manufacturing decline.
Unintended Consequences
Look around. Australia manufactures little. We’re uncompetitive, our once-robust energy systems are crumbling under a fanatical renewable ideology, and we’ve become a net-import nation propped up by tourism and a latte-sipping economy. How long can that last?
Can we rise from the ashes, even if politicians have sold us out? Yes—it’s possible, but not guaranteed. History proves it: post-WWI Germany rebuilt from ruin (pre-Nazi era), and Iceland bounced back after its 2008 banking collapse by rejecting failed elites and rewriting the rules. Our politicians may have pawned Australia’s future—through deals like the Lima Declaration, endless debt, or housing policies—but hitting rock bottom cuts through the haze. It forces us to see the sellout for what it is.
How Do We Fight Back?
It starts with us, not them. Politicians thrive on apathy—when we’re broke, angry, and awake, their grip weakens. What’s the plan? Break the two-party spell—vote for independents or new parties free from corporate strings. Build local networks—trade skills, grow food, sidestep corporate chokeholds. Demand transparency—expose every backroom deal. It’s gritty, not glamorous, but rock bottom is a reset button if we hit it hard enough.
We’ve got the guts; we just need the will. What’s your spark to light this fire?