WHEN the Solomon Islands made Manasseh Sogavare prime minister on December 9th, it was amid a heavy security presence of local and Australian police officers. This is the third stint in office for Mr Sogavare, a black belt in karate, and the first two ended badly. He has acquired a reputation as a nationalist. He talks of forging links with China, and also says he wants to work constructively with the Australian-led Regional Assistance Mission to Solomon Islands (RAMSI, consisting of police and troops). That would make a change. His previous term saw the ejection of both an Australian High Commissioner and an Australian police chief.

The general election on November 19th was the first since RAMSI, created in 2003 at a time of civil conflict, was scaled right back last year. Unusually, most incumbent MPs were returned, though an exception was the outgoing prime minister. Also unusually, as many as 32 of the 50 elected MPs contested as independents, most calculating that remaining unaffiliated was the best way to avoid the constraints of a poorly drafted Political Parties Integrity Act, passed this year.

The new law, influenced by legislation in neighbouring Papua New Guinea, was aimed at lessening the influence of “grasshopper” politicians jumping from one side to the other in search of ministerial portfolios. It did not work. As at previous elections, the 2014 contest culminated in a contest between two loosely knit and personality-centred camps at the major hotels in the capital, Honiara. A former governor-general claims to have witnessed Mr Sogavare and his probable deputy, Matthew Wale, offering SI$500,000 ($67,000) to attract three floating MPs. In September an outgoing judge said that Solomon Islands needed an independent anti-corruption commission “more than any country on the planet”.

Governments rarely survive a full four-year term. One early indication of fragility in Mr Sogavare’s Democratic Coalition for Change was that, ahead of the prime ministerial election, its less reliable MPs were briefly shipped to a resort on the island of Mbike to avoid their being poached by the rival coalition. Gunshots were apparently fired on Mbike in an unsuccessful effort to disable the boat returning the MPs to the main island to vote in the election.

Mr Sogavare first entered parliament in 1997, shortly before five years of civil strife that brought the country close to bankruptcy. Militia groups orchestrated a coup in June 2000 and facilitated Mr Sogavare’s first installation as prime minister. He lost the post after the 2001 election. The next prime ministerial election, in 2006, triggered major riots in Honiara, culminating in the burning down of Chinatown and the collapse of an eight-day-old government. In its place, Mr Sogavare again took the top job. He immediately antagonised Australia by appointing a former militant as police chief and by smuggling a Fiji-born lawyer, Julian Moti, wanted in Australia for alleged child-sex offences, into the country to serve as attorney-general.

The events took place a time when Australian influence was in the ascendant. Today RAMSI is a scaled-back operation providing police assistance, run by a relatively junior foreign-service officer. It is far less influential. A full withdrawal is foreseen in 2017. Mr Sogavare, who has mellowed with age, may calculate that he risks more by antagonising Australia—which indirectly sparked instability in his last governing coalition—than he stands to gain with a more co-operative approach. Seeking an exit strategy from Solomon Islands, Australia may also be less perturbed by Mr Sogavare’s election than it was in 2006.