Tag Archive for: Southeast Asia

Southeast Asia faces AI influence on elections

Artificial intelligence is becoming commonplace in electoral campaigns and politics across Southeast Asia, but the region is struggling to regulate it.

Indonesia’s 2024 general election exposed actual harms of AI-driven politics and overhyped concerns that distracted from its real dangers. As the Philippines and Singapore head to the polls in 2025, they can draw lessons from Indonesia’s experience, while tailoring insights for their electoral landscapes.

While deepfakes dominated concerns in last year’s elections, a quieter threat loomed: unregulated AI-driven microtargeting. These covert and custom messages are delivered at scale via private channels or dark posts—targeted advertisements that don’t appear on the publisher’s page, making them difficult to track. This isolates recipients, making verification trickier. The risk is even greater in Southeast Asia, where fake news thrives amid low media literacy rates.

AI in Indonesia’s general election was more commonly used for image polishing and rebranding than attacking opponents, though some attacks occurred. Prabowo Subianto, a retired military general known for his fiery nationalism, rebranded himself as a cuddly grandfather to soften his strongman image. This redirected the focus from substantial issues, such as corruption and economic challenges, to superficial narratives, including his cheerful dances.

Darker deepfakes also emerged, such as an audio clip of then presidential candidate Anies Baswedan being scolded by the chair of the National Democrat Party, Surya Paloh. A video of late President Suharto endorsing the Golkar party also went viral. This was controversial given Suharto’s dictatorship and violent record.

Microtargeting in Indonesia also notably focused on young voters instead of racial segments. Prabowo’s rebranding resonated with youth—usually first time voters who lacked political maturity. This demographic emerged as an important voter segment, comprising about 60 percent of the total electorate in Indonesia’s 2024 general election.

The situation emphasises a need for intentional regulations. Currently, the Indonesian Electronic Information and Transactions and Personal Data Protection laws address electronic content, including deepfakes, but lack election-specific AI guidelines. The General Election Committee could have helped, but it earlier declared AI regulation beyond its jurisdiction. Instead, Indonesia’s Constitutional Court now prohibits AI for political campaigning.

Indonesia’s experience offers valuable lessons for its close neighbours. In May 2025, the Philippines will hold mid-term elections, and Singapore will have a general election this year too. Both nations are enforcing some rules but their approaches differ to Indonesia’s.

Given the Philippines’ complex experience enforcing technology-related bans (some effective, others not so much), simply prohibiting AI during elections may not be ideal. Instead, the Commission on Elections is taking the transparency route, requiring candidates to register their digital campaign platforms—including social media accounts, websites and blogs—or face penalties. While the use of deepfakes is prohibited, AI is permitted with disclosure.

Singapore has previously implemented measures that ensure comprehensive coverage. For instance, its Elections Bill complements its legislation on falsehoods by barring AI-generated deepfakes targeting candidates. However, the proposed legislation applies only during the official election period and excludes private conversations, potentially leaving gaps for disinformation outside election season, microtargeting through private messaging and deepfakes of influential non-candidates. Such vulnerabilities have already been observed in Indonesia.

These cases also highlight Southeast Asia’s uneven regulatory readiness. Tackling AI risks demands a stronger stance, more binding than a guide or roadmap, bolstered by a whole of society collaboration to address complex challenges.

An article in Time argued the effect of AI on elections in 2024 was underwhelming, pointing to the quality—or lack thereof—of viral deepfakes. But Indonesia’s case suggests that power may lie not just in persuasiveness but also in appeal. Prabowo’s camp successfully used AI-generated figures to polish his image and distract people from real problems.

To dismiss the effect of AI is to miss the normalisation of unregulated AI-powered microtargeting. Last year revealed AI’s capability to target vulnerable yet sizable populations such as the youth in Indonesia, potentially beyond election cycles.

Blanket bans are an easy cop-out and may just encourage covert uses of AI. With choices available, people can simply use other companies. When OpenAI banned its use for political campaigning and generating images of real people, Prabowo turned to Midjourney, an AI image generator.

An alternative solution is to ensure transparent and responsible AI use in elections. This requires engaging those with contextual knowledge of the electorate—academics, industry leaders, the media, watchdogs and even voters themselves—alongside policymakers such as electoral commissions and national AI oversight bodies. But a key challenge remains: some Southeast Asian countries still lack dedicated AI regulatory bodies, or even AI strategies.

In the development of such bodies and strategies, public participation in AI policy consultations could ensure electorate concerns are heard. For instance, Malaysia’s National AI Office recently opened a call for experts and community representatives to help shape the country’s AI landscape. International organisations may also contribute through capacity building and stakeholder engagement, fostering relevant AI policies and regulations.

Certainly, further studies are needed for tailored AI governance for specific societies. But overall, adaptive and anticipatory regulation that evolves as technology advances will help mitigate AI-related risks in Southeast Asian elections and beyond.

Gradually, then suddenly: in geopolitics, decades can happen in weeks

Ernest Hemingway wrote in The Sun Also Rises (1926) that bankruptcy occurs gradually and then suddenly. This should be treated as a rule of geopolitical affairs.

For centuries, political structures and hierarchies of power that once were thought to be unchanging often suddenly vanished. Demise was gradual but collapse was sudden.

The Russian Empire (abolished in September 1917) and the Soviet Russian empire (dissolved in December 1991) both exhibited permanence—until they did not. So did the Austrian-Hungarian Empire (abolished in October 1918) and the Ottoman Empire (abolished in November 1922).

Only last month we witnessed the sudden collapse of Bashar al-Assad’s Syria. Rulers in Beijing, Moscow, Tehran, Pyongyang, Havana and elsewhere nervously understand the Hemingway rule, even if they have never read him.

There is another way to express this rule. After decades when nothing happens, decades can suddenly happen in weeks (a saying that is attributed to Vladimir Lenin). While we expressed hope on New Year’s Eve for a more peaceful and less chaotic world, one senses that as 2025 unfolds we will see decades suddenly happen in a blaze of geopolitical twists, turns and transformations.

The scene is bewildering. What will happen in the Russo-Ukrainian war? Will a peace deal be reached? Will Vladimir Putin keep his grip on power? Will Israel go to war against Iran? Will Iran recover from recent setbacks or will the regime start to unravel? Will it make a dash for nuclear weapons?

Will a dramatic Middle East peace deal, and a Palestinian homeland, emerge as a result of a regional realignment involving the US, Saudi Arabia, Israel and other key players and a freezing out of Iran? Will Islamic State or al-Qaida (or both) manage to galvanise supporters into launching a new wave of terrorist attacks in the West, perhaps by mobilising Muslim anger over the plight of the Palestinians? Will the India-China border remain quiet? What is Kim Jong-un plotting? Does he sense opportunity in South Korea’s political crisis?

What will happen in the seas of the Western Pacific, especially around Japan, Taiwan and The Philippines? Or in the next phase of US-China strategic competition? What of China’s calculations about its objectives and timelines, especially given the return of Donald Trump to the White House? Will China’s economic and social fragility combine with internal political tensions to shake Xi Jinping’s hold on power? Will Trump’s second term dramatically transform the role of the US in the world?

In the grey space between peace and war, will we see an acceleration of cyber attacks, sabotage (including against undersea infrastructure), covert disinformation and propaganda campaigns, and other forms of intimidation by Russia and China against the democracies of the West, in a bid to throw them off balance, to fracture their social cohesion and undermine the national confidence of their populations? At the other end of the spectrum, will nuclear weapons be used for the first time since 1945?

On some of these issues, there will be still months and years to play out. Some, however, will play out within weeks.

As Henry Kissinger often said, in the face of a wide range of uncertainties and imponderables, often action has to be taken when the opportunities and threats are only incompletely glimpsed, and when the probabilities and consequences cannot be calculated precisely. If we wait for time to play out, we are likely to be surprised when things happen suddenly.

As Australia grapples with this bewildering range of contingencies, it will need to focus its efforts on that which matters most. For Australia, the gradual and then sudden establishment of Chinese hegemony and a US strategic withdrawal from our region (whether by choice or through military defeat) would be the most adverse geopolitical occurrence in our history.

Everything else listed above matters. This would matter most. A hegemonic China, technologically dominant and militarily unchecked, with the US looking on from its hemispheric citadel, would be for Australia a more demanding overlord than Imperial Germany, Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan or Soviet Russia would have been had any one of them managed to achieve mastery in Eurasia. A dominant China would expect to get its way, and resisting would incur high costs.

Australian policy must be constantly directed to the challenge of working with others to prevent such an outcome.

In part, this will mean intensifying and accelerating our military, civil defence and national cyber defence preparations.

In the months and years ahead, there is a significant chance of a US-China military crisis in Asia, similar to the Cuban missile crisis of 1962.

If China continues to pursue a course of preparing for a blockade of Taiwan, the odds of this are likely to be at least 50 per cent. In the worst possible case, war might break out, gradually in the grey space between peace and war, and then suddenly with weapons being launched with little or no warning. The odds of this occurring between now and 2030 are likely to be about 10 to 20 per cent.

Aside from intensifying preparations for such eventualities, the other arm of policy that needs to be mobilised is our regional diplomacy. Australia last faced such dire prospects in the 1930s. In the face of the growing menace of Imperial Japan, it chose not to re-arm in time and as a result was defenceless in 1941, when John Curtin was forced to ‘look to America’. Neither did Australia act confidently and effectively enough in terms of its statecraft, even though it was more seized than was the British government of the growing threat posed by Imperial Japan.

We can learn the lessons of the ’30s. In the 90 years that have since passed, we have built a deep store of regional connections and we go to the region as a different Australia, independent and confident. We should engage with our neighbours on the need to stand together against Chinese coercion and aggression.

In doing so, we would not be seeking security from Asia but seeking it in Asia.

Our neighbours are highly attuned to geopolitical realities. Almost without exception, even if they do not say it, they are not keen to see China emerge as a hegemon. Equally, they would prefer to see the US remain engaged in the region, knowing that any regional power arrangement that had China at its head would be a vehicle for China to dominate.

However, most are not ready to tackle directly the question of China’s aggression and coercion. They see no need to do so—not perhaps until Chinese naval and coastguard vessels appear off their shores to assert Chinese sovereignty in disputed waters.

Short of them being directly threatened, attempts to enlist most of our neighbours into an anti-China coalition will not work. Here is where astute Australian foreign policy could have a significant impact. No one in the region believes that Australia is seriously trying to navigate US-China strategic competition. That it is trying not to choose a side.

Most believe Australia has already made its choice without being vocal about it. Australia’s presumed choice can be seen in our longstanding alliance with the US; the hosting of US strategic facilities in Australia; the basing arrangements that have been put in place for US military operations from Australia; Australia’s plan under AUKUS to acquire long-range nuclear-propelled attack submarines; and our participation in the growing US-led system of regional deterrence to counter China. While we have stabilised relations with China in recent years, our neighbours believe we are still working to thwart China’s rise as regional hegemon.

That certainty regarding Australian policy is credit in the strategic bank. We should leverage that credit. Instead of sliding and hedging, our message in the capitals of Asia and the Pacific should be a confident one of strategic solidarity. We should declare that we will stand with our neighbours in the face of Chinese aggression and coercion. This Australian pledge of solidarity should be extended to the following: Indonesia, Malaysia, The Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia and Brunei in Southeast Asia; farther afield to Japan, South Korea, India, Sri Lanka, Maldives, New Zealand and East Timor; the sovereign nations of the Pacific Islands Forum; and possibly others in the Indo-Pacific region. In a carefully couched and suitably adapted form that recognised current Australian policy on its status, the pledge even could be extended to Taiwan.

We would not ask any regional partner to take sides in US-China great power competition or in an anti-China coalition. Neither would the pledge involve or require the agreeing of a military alliance with Australia, although in some cases that might be considered as well and especially so in the case of Indonesia.

Specifically, Australia would pledge that were Chinese grey-zone aggression and coercion to occur in relation to the territorial integrity or national sovereignty of a neighbour, we would consult immediately with them on the best ways in which assistance might be provided by Australia in terms of diplomatic, economic, technical, intelligence and material support. Subject to there being in place a military alliance between our nations, this could involve defence assistance.

Australia would be pledging to deploy all elements of power to assist its neighbours.

In making this pledge, and by not taking the easy road of cowering in our sheltered land, relieved that the dragon was breathing fire on someone else, Australia would be undertaking its most significant independent strategic initiative in the region. The pledge would remove from the table the possibility that Australia might sit back and calculate the advantages for itself in silently acquiescing in, or even tacitly condoning, Chinese aggression and coercion against our neighbours.

The pledge would commit us to doing no more than a resolute and confident Australia would be likely to do in our own interests in the applicable circumstances. By making an explicit declaration now, before the eruption of a sudden crisis, Australia would be signalling that it was serious about contributing to collective security and resilience in the region, and that it was prepared to forgo hedging and ambiguity. With those neighbours that desired it, discreet planning could take place that would save time in a crisis.

Were others in the region to make similar and hopefully mutual pledges to their neighbours, Beijing’s calculations would become vastly more complicated. This would not be an act of altruism on Australia’s part. A more resilient region that was better able to withstand Chinese aggression and coercion, preferably through a web of mutual pledges of solidarity, would make for a more secure Australia.

Australia has long had a strong Asia consciousness. For instance, in 1934 the government of prime minister Joseph Lyons dispatched the first ministerial goodwill diplomatic tour of China, Japan, the Netherlands East Indies, French Indochina, Malaya, Hong Kong and The Philippines. It did not yield useful results, for reasons already mentioned, but it showed that we were at least willing to act on identifiably Australian interests in the region.

After World War II, a more distinctively Australian approach to the region began to be fashioned. By the ’90s, the Keating government was speaking of Australia finding security in Asia.

Building on this tradition of engagement, we should now make starkly clear that, amid all the flux, we are deeply committed to a free and open Indo-Pacific, where all nations are free to make their choices within rules that everyone has agreed. The Australian pledge as described here would give force to this commitment.

In today’s chaotic geopolitical world, the actions that we take now will echo for decades to come.

Hemingway wrote of bankruptcy. In our region we are strategically solvent after decades of engagement. Will we use our credit to help to build a more secure region, even as events unfold at a dizzying pace?

Now that ASEAN has its cyber norms checklist, the hard work begins

Southeast Asian countries have made an important step towards operationalising UN standards on government cyberspace behaviour, but the job is far from finished.

On behalf of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, Singapore last week published a checklist of action points aimed at giving effect to the standards, which are called 11 norms and were endorsed by the UN General Assembly in 2015. Now, the challenge is to put the action points themselves into practice, overcoming resistance inside Southeast Asian governments and encouraging other states to follow.

The importance of this should be clear in Southeast Asia, since it and the wider Indo-Pacific region are increasingly plagued by malicious cyber activities. Encouraging states to abide by accepted practices of responsible behaviour in cyberspace is urgent.

In 2018, ASEAN became the first, and still only, regional organisation to adopt the norms when they were endorsed in an ASEAN leaders’ statement on cybersecurity cooperation. The new checklist, promoted by Malaysia and Singapore, aims to break the norms down into practical, actionable steps.

For example, to support the norm of not damaging another country’s critical infrastructure, the checklist includes making supportive political statements and setting clear internal guidelines for officials’ use of cyber tools. Meanwhile, cooperating internationally to combat crime and terrorism online means that responsible agencies should have a regularly updated directory of points of contacts of overseas counterparts.

But the discussion so far is at the level of foreign ministries and cybersecurity agencies. Checklist items need to be implemented by the core institutions responsible for deploying cyber capabilities, including defence, police and intelligence agencies.

Getting them to commit to the norms checklist will be no easy task. Agencies building cyber capabilities are often inward-looking and focused on national security work rather than broader cooperation. So they are not too receptive to commitments that could constrain their activities. Governments will need to introduce these principles across agencies, demonstrating to domestic constituencies their relevance for regional stability and national security.

Furthermore, ASEAN’s checklist needs to be more than a set of guidelines; it must serve as a tool for diplomatic engagement with external powers. My assessment of open sources shows that Southeast Asia remains one of the most targeted regions for state-sponsored cyber campaigns, primarily by China and North Korea. Most suspected state-sponsored cyber operations in the region have been linked to China. This makes it essential for ASEAN to advocate its checklist beyond its members, encouraging adherence by irresponsible state actors. This will be especially challenging, as some actors are increasingly weaponising cyberspace to secure economic and strategic aims.

ASEAN has long hoped to use norms and principles—institutionalised in arrangements like the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation and an eventual South China Sea code of conduct—to influence behaviour of other states. In the cyber domain, this could mean ensuring that the agreed commitments in the text serve as a benchmark for responsible behaviour. Irresponsible states, such as China and North Korea, are unlikely to immediately embrace the checklist. But even incremental shifts toward greater transparency and accountability would be significant progress.

To support these efforts, ASEAN needs to develop robust confidence-building measures alongside the checklist. The measures can serve as reasons for dialogue, information sharing and transparency, helping government agencies—including those with authority over cyber capabilities—to build trust in the cyber domain. These measures can also be crucial platforms for reducing misunderstandings, managing tensions and fostering cooperation among states. Confidence-building measures should also be designed to cover either each of the 11 norms or combinations of them, allowing discussions that highlight either common or shared challenges in implementing and operationalising them. Another initiative could be devising the means of tracking checklist implementation.

Australia’s role in this context is instrumental. It has put much effort into cyber capacity-building in Southeast Asia, often working closely with ASEAN member states to raise awareness about the importance of cyber norms. Canberra should continue to use its diplomatic, technical and financial resources to support ASEAN’s efforts, particularly in promoting the operationalisation of the checklist at the national level.

The checklist is only a step on a journey. Implementation will determine its impact. Translating diplomatic principles into operational realities is urgent as cyber threats continue to evolve.

The road ahead will be marked by diplomacy, negotiation and gradual progress, but it is a road worth taking if Southeast Asia aims to create a safer and more secure cyber environment for all its people.

Southeast Asia needs more cybersecurity collaboration, with Australian help

While Southeast Asia was fortunate to avoid the worst effects of the global CrowdStrike outage in July, ASEAN is actively working to improve resilience for future cybersecurity risks. However, it must do more to build a rapid response mechanism that can immediately mitigate the damage from cyber incidents, and Australia must be more proactive in lending its expertise and resources to support ASEAN’s cybersecurity initiatives.

Southeast Asia’s resilience to cybersecurity incidents has been improved through ASEAN’s promotion of cybersecurity awareness and collaboration among member states. Initiatives such as the ASEAN Cybersecurity Cooperation Strategy and the ASEAN Defence Ministers’ Meeting (ADMM) Cybersecurity and Information Centre of Excellence (ACICE) play a central role in enhancing the region’s situational awareness and collective ability to prevent, detect and respond to cyber incidents.

As for the Crowdstrike outage, Southeast Asia mostly dodged last month’s blue screens of death largely because few businesses in the region were customers to the company. This contrasts with Western countries, which tend to rely on dominant providers and made up most of Crowdstrike’s customer base. Meanwhile, ASEAN’s corporate-level defensive measures are quite fragmented due to its lack of home-grown cybersecurity capabilities and resource constraints. Small and medium businesses in the region often choose economical solutions.

Despite its challenges, ASEAN focuses on ensuring that the region has its own agency and voice in cybersecurity matters. This was evident during the Digital Defence Symposium, co-organised by ACICE and held a few days after the Crowdstrike meltdown. The symposium aimed to bolster defence diplomacy and multilateral cooperation to counter digital threats like cyberattacks and disinformation. ASEAN cybersecurity experts were joined by representatives from NATO members, the United States and China to discuss common digital security challenges and to foster situational awareness. ASEAN’s other collaborative efforts include joint exercises, workshops and training sessions designed to improve the cybersecurity capabilities of its member states.

Regional cooperation in Southeast Asia extends beyond government agencies to include partnerships with the private sector. ASEAN recognises the importance of involving the private sector and knows that public-private partnerships are essential for sharing information on emerging threats, best practices and technological advancements. Companies that have a strong presence in Southeast Asia play a vital role in these partnerships, providing technical support and capacity building training, and conducting joint research projects. Such collaborations colour the regional approach to cybersecurity although, arguably, countries adopt their own digital norms following their history and culture.

ASEAN also established a Computer Emergency Response Team (CERT) in February to strengthen regional cyber resilience, although, after only six months and with a funding commitment from only Singapore, it is not yet operational. It failed to answer Indonesia’s call for prompt assistance during the June cyberattack by LockBit ransomware group that shut down 282 government agencies. This incident underscored the need for further capacity building and international collaboration to enhance national cybersecurity standards, conduct comprehensive threat intelligence analysis and facilitate public-private partnerships to bolster the region’s digital defences.

The incident also highlighted the importance of developing a rapid response mechanism within ASEAN that can provide a timely response and assistance, aside from its existing numerous formal meetings. While the region has made significant progress in establishing frameworks and strategies, the ability to respond quickly and effectively to cyber incidents needs to be strengthened. A regional rapid response team that can be deployed in the event of a major cyberattack would greatly enhance ASEAN’s ability to mitigate impact. This team could be comprised of experts from member states who could provide technical support, conduct forensic analysis and coordinate recovery efforts.

For a regional effort to be effective, national organisations also require capacity building. The Indonesian Cyber and Encryption Agency, Singapore’s Cyber Security Agency (CSA) and Malaysia’s National Cyber Security Agency (NACSA) and others must become better equipped to analyse and defend against global criminal networks.

Australia should play a bigger role in supporting ASEAN’s cybersecurity initiatives. As one of the 11 countries involved in the joint international operation to take down LockBit in February, Australia has the necessary expertise and resources, and yet it was notably absent from this year’s Digital Defence Symposium. By engaging more proactively, Australia can help Southeast Asia build a more robust and resilient cybersecurity landscape.

Australia could be involved in various ways. It could provide technical assistance and capacity building support to ASEAN member states, sharing expertise on advanced cybersecurity technologies, conducting joint training programmes, and providing resources for developing national cybersecurity strategies.

Australia could also play a key role in facilitating information sharing and intelligence exchange between ASEAN and other international partners. By acting as a bridge, Australia could help ensure that its neighbours in Southeast Asia have access to the latest threat intelligence and best practices from around the world.

India wants strategic engagement with Southeast Asia—but how?

As India’s ‘Act East’ policy focussing on Southeast Asia moves into its 10th year, it is time for New Delhi to spell out more clearly how it aims to enhance its security and strategic partnerships with ASEAN nations. 

There has been a clear shift in the trajectory of India’s engagements as the Act East policy increasingly drives India’s vision for the Indo-Pacific. Ties with Southeast Asian countries have grown, but the focus has been mainly through sectors like healthcare, education, agriculture, trade and investment, technology, green energy and cultural links. 

India to date has therefore been viewed more as a soft power and cultural partner by most Southeast Asian nations, not a strategic partner. As India becomes bolder and more proactive in its foreign policy—in keeping with Indo-Pacific geopolitical developments—it needs to move beyond these existing areas of cooperation and signal more clearly the underlying objectives and aspirations behind the Act East policy, and what kind of partnership India seeks to achieve in Southeast Asia. 

The shift already underway has recently been demonstrated, for example, by India’s deepening strategic and defence relationship with the Philippines, which has included the signing of a defence agreement in January 2022, under which India is supplying a shore-based, anti-ship variant of the BrahMos supersonic cruise missile to the Philippines and has offered to supply the Tejas Mark 1 fighter jet.  

On a March visit to the Philippines, External Affairs Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar made bold statements with respect to the South China Sea dispute. These were a major step forward from the generic and carefully crafted language India previously used to forecast its neutrality. The past two statements made during the Philippines visit, emphasised ‘India’s support to the Philippines for upholding its territorial sovereignty’. 

Jaishankar’s March trip—one of several to Southeast Asia since he took office—also took in visits to Singapore and Malaysia, with talks covering enhancements to Indian defence and maritime security cooperation with all the three countries. This included discussions on capacity-building, joint exercises, information exchange, and defence collaboration. 

These developments build on India’s engagement in naval exercises with its Southeast Asian neighbours, such as the Corpat exercises and the hosting of training programs for naval officers from Southeast Asian countries in the India’s Naval War Colleges.  

Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s participation in the 20th India-ASEAN Summit and 18th East Asia Summit in Jakarta, Indonesia, just days before hosting the G20 summit at New Delhi in September 2023 was also clearly reflective of the increased focus. 

All of this represents a clear shift, attributable to the fact that the Act East policy now drives India’s Indo-Pacific vision. The developments send a message that India is ready to embark on a strategic and defence partnership not just with the Philippines but perhaps, over time, with other Southeast Asian nations as well, reflecting India’s growing ambitions as a global power and the leading voice of the Global South. 

This said, India’s moves still represent early steps in a region where other countries’ relationships are already well established. The US, for instance, is a treaty ally of the Philippines and Thailand.  

Although India has signed strategic partnership agreements with Malaysia, Vietnam, Singapore and Indonesia, these have yet to realise their full potential. It is a long road ahead for India to emerge as a full strategic player in the region, as recent surveys indicate. 

One survey, by the ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute in Singapore, showed India as one of the ‘least strategically relevant partners to the ASEAN member nations’. It ranked ninth among the 11 dialogue partners of the ASEAN nations on regional influence and leadership. Respondents from Myanmar and Singapore ranked India as fifth and sixth respectively in terms of strategic relevance, highlighting the historical-cultural relationship between the countries. But respondents from Cambodia, Laos, the Philippines and Vietnam ranked India ninth in terms of strategic relevance. 

The existing, non-security areas of cooperation have helped navigate the India-Southeast Asia links so far. But the focus needs to bring in security and strategic partnerships now, with Southeast Asia at the forefront of geopolitical complexities. 

The India-Philippines security and strategic ties are progressing well, but, for India to be seen as a relevant strategic player and a country having regional influence, it is important to pay similar attention to the other Southeast Asian countries and to work towards similar deals with countries such as Vietnam and Indonesia. A one-size-fits-all approach does not work in Southeast Asia, as this region is very diverse, especially in its foreign policy orientation and perceptions.  

It will take India some time to break out of its image as a soft power and cultural partner, and to be seen also as a strategic player. India’s approach to great power competition is similar to ASEAN’s position. For instance, despite its more vocal statements on the South China Sea, India is still treading carefully by not being part of the maritime exercises between US, Australia, Japan and Philippines in the disputed waters a few days ago.   

Even while being a member of the Quad, India has managed to keep its strategic autonomy intact. Its vision aligns well with the ASEAN Outlook on the Indo-Pacific. Therefore India needs to map out its Act East policy to clearly project how it aims to enhance its security and strategic partnerships with the ASEAN member countries, while recognising each country’s sensitivities and national interests.  

India at the same time should work with its like-minded partners such as Australia, Japan and others to ensure that the free, open and rules-based order is upheld in Southeast Asia and, by extension, the Indo-Pacific.

 

Three pathways for Australia to reset relations with Southeast Asia

The election of a Labor government in May brought an expectation that Australia would do more in Southeast Asia and the Pacific. But what will that look like and what new approaches should the government take? The region has changed since Labor was last in power, and so has Australia. A policy that relies on more of the same will not suffice in today’s intense environment.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and Foreign Minister Penny Wong made a strong start with early visits to the region and a determination to set a better tone. Both promised closer attention to Southeast Asia and the Pacific. They’ve been respectful and shown a willingness to listen.

While the intentions have been communicated, the contours of the reset are still being shaped, and it’s not clear what Labor will do next.

The way I see it, there are three broad options for the new government to reset Australia’s foreign policy in the region.

Labor could embrace its decades-old position of leading a benign, engaging, middle power that is strong on development aid, education and multilateral diplomacy.

It could follow the new direction set by the Coalition government of a more muscular, hard-security-focused balancer, a strategically active, even hawkish, actor.

Or it could try to merge these pathways, which would mean finding the right balance.

The first option would require a significant increase in resources for the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, and greater popular support.

The elements are already in place for the second option, given Australia’s strong national security posture and Labor’s continued commitment to big defence procurements such as nuclear-powered submarines. There’s popular support for a more robust approach and a strong sense of threat to the nation’s security and prosperity. The recent budget announcement seems to confirm this trend.

The third option seems the most logical to me. The hard parts will be getting the policy mix right and ensuring a bipartisan consensus so that it lasts as a long-term strategy.

Australia’s strengths have been demonstrated in its contribution to development, gender equality, education, capacity building, agri-tech and new areas of renewable energy in the region. The more strategic and muscular Australia may be criticised in some capitals but appreciated in others. Yet it will be difficult to make that the nation’s strong suit because Australia won’t be seen as the region’s key security actor—at least not Australia alone.

If anything, it will be influential when working in concert with other nations. Australia isn’t always viewed as strategically independent, but it has the advantage of close and trusted relationships with the strongest strategic actors, including the US and Japan.

Australia should have a regionwide guiding framework for engagement, based on universally shared goals of ensuring stability and prosperity throughout Southeast Asia and the Pacific. But it must understand the group dynamics in Southeast Asia and be sensitive to actions that can be perceived as divisive or dismissive of ASEAN’s institutional centrality. As with any country, including the ASEAN member states, Australia should be able tailor its relationships depending on who it is dealing with.

In some cases, the world views, security outlooks and strategies of Southeast Asian nations diverge. Different agendas need different partners. Individual sensitivities, needs and priorities differ, and Canberra should be able to respond to and engage with a range of countries accordingly.

Australia should not base its relationships only on historical predispositions, but also on current circumstances, taking into account the receptiveness and appetite of individual Southeast Asian partners. It cannot afford to be seen as an optional or fluctuating partner.

The new government needs to say what it is pursuing in the region and explain its plan to ‘rebrand’ Australia.

The reset is not just about this government, though. Australia needs to make clear to the region what role it wants to project and live up to now and for years to come. Building a national brand takes time and commitment, so this needs to be a conscious decision with a clear plan.

The region holds great expectations of the Albanese government, especially with Wong—Australia’s first foreign minister of Southeast Asian heritage—leading this new chapter of Australia’s foreign policy.

Resetting Southeast Asia’s climate agenda

High inflation, rising interest rates, falling currencies and volatile energy prices, together with an economic slowdown and post-pandemic budget woes, may increase pressure on the ASEAN+3—the 10 members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, together with China, Japan and South Korea—to scale back efforts to mitigate climate risk. While this policy shift may make fiscal sense, it is a mistake that could have grave repercussions for the region and ultimately lead to slower economic growth and greater financial instability.

If not addressed, the risks climate change poses to ASEAN+3 countries could have far-reaching implications for the region’s agricultural production, water availability, energy security, transport and infrastructure, tourism industries and coastal resources. Over the past two years, flooding, cyclones, droughts, rising sea levels and landslides have become an increasingly frequent feature of life. Myanmar, the Philippines, Vietnam and Thailand are among the world’s 10 most climate-vulnerable countries, having suffered some of the most fatalities and highest economic losses from weather-related disasters between 1999 and 2018.

In addition to these physical risks, the transition to a low-carbon economy carries risks of its own. For starters, industries that are heavily reliant on fossil fuels are increasingly facing greater regulatory burdens. A large portion of the region’s oil, gas and coal reserves may end up being left in the ground and discounted or entirely written off. Shifts in energy policy are also likely to increase banks’ credit risks. If Indonesia, the Philippines and Vietnam meet their commitments under the 2015 Paris agreement, for example, coal-fired power plants valued at US$60 billion will become stranded assets in 15 years, rather than 40.

The green transition would most likely also affect the profitability of coal mines elsewhere in the region, such as in Indonesia. And the European Union’s efforts to shift away from palm-oil biofuel and encourage the use of deforestation-free products may turn landbanks in Malaysia and Indonesia into stranded assets. But despite these transition risks, doing nothing would ultimately be costlier for ASEAN economies.

To be sure, ASEAN countries have taken some steps to mitigate climate risks. Brunei has implemented coastal-protection structures. Indonesia has promoted mangroves and climate-tolerant crop varieties. Laos has developed sustainable crop-management techniques. And Malaysia has pursued climate-adapted technology and organic farming.

But despite these improvements, more must be done to meet the ASEAN+3 countries’ renewable-energy goals. Several initiatives could support the region’s efforts: the ASEAN Plan of Action for Energy Cooperation, for example, aims to increase renewable energy to 23% of the region’s energy supply by 2025, compared with 14% in 2017. And the 2021 forum on the carbon-neutrality goals of China, Japan and South Korea has outlined concrete ideas for achieving net-zero emissions through trilateral cooperation on innovation and technology.

Carbon pricing is essential to the green transition. ASEAN+3 countries have held discussions on balancing pricing schemes against the need to stimulate economic growth. In July 2021, China launched operation of its national emissions-trading system, designed to be an ‘important market-based instrument’ to help the country achieve its climate goals. One year on, though still dealing with data-quality issues, China’s ETS is the world’s largest in terms of covered emissions, and prices are rising steadily. While there have been calls for a regionwide carbon tax, this idea seems unlikely in the short term, given differences in tax regimes. Nonetheless, a carbon tax will likely remain a key focus of discussions among the ASEAN+3 in the next few years.

Promoting sustainable finance will also be essential to a successful transition, as the financial sector could drive an economy-wide shift. In the past few years, many central banks and financial supervisors in Asia have implemented, or have begun to implement, such measures, despite ongoing capacity and resource constraints.

In the short term, there’s significant scope for ASEAN+3 central banks and financial regulators to provide incentives for the transition to a low-carbon economy by directing firms and lenders to reduce carbon usage and focus on renewable energy and green technologies. Such measures would encourage a similar shift across the economy, leading companies to price climate risks into their products and services.

By promoting low-carbon policies and encouraging green finance, policymakers could spur new renewable-energy sectors and stimulate economic growth. Reducing their reliance on dollar-denominated fossil fuels would also enable ASEAN+3 countries to shift government revenues from maintaining large foreign-exchange reserves towards domestic policies.

To minimise the damaging effects of climate change on their populations and economies, ASEAN+3 policymakers must implement risk-mitigation policies that help prevent regional spillovers and encourage the emergence of new industries and technologies. Doing so would also boost energy security. Shutting down the sun and the wind is much harder than blowing up a gas pipeline.

Australia must get review of climate-change security risks right

The most consequential gap in the climate policies of the Coalition government under Scott Morrison was not its weak commitment to reduce greenhouse gas emissions or its reluctance to accelerate the transition from fossil fuels to renewables, but rather its neglect of the security threats posed by climate change.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s government moved quickly to address this gap by ordering an ‘assessment of the implications for national security of climate change’. The review will be led by Andrew Shearer, the director-general of the Office of National Intelligence, working closely with the Department of Defence. The review team faces a daunting task.

Climate change is a pressing and accelerating threat to global security. It will disrupt trade, displace populations, cause food and energy shortages, and drive conflict between nations. Southeast Asia, on our northern doorstep, is particularly at risk. It’s a global hotspot of overlapping climate hazards with large, densely concentrated populations (275 million people live in Indonesia alone), significant informal economies and weak social safety nets.

The review is a critical first step in preparing Australia for the dangers ahead, but to be successful it needs to avoid five key pitfalls.

The first is a tendency to define national security too narrowly. There’s no doubt that climate change will have enormous impacts on our defence force, including threatening military infrastructure and readiness. It will also exacerbate tensions in military hotspots such as the South China Sea, where sea-level rise will amplify disputes over maritime boundaries and fisheries.

But the most pressing regional security threats will come from climate-change-induced disruptions to social systems. Particular attention needs to be paid to the food–water–energy nexus. Identifying the climate risks and Australian responses in areas such as food and energy will require the involvement of a wide range of government departments, including many that are outside the traditional national security portfolios of defence, foreign affairs, home affairs and the national intelligence agencies.

The review also needs to consider the links between climate risks originating outside of Australia and domestic impacts. The possibility of initiatives such as establishing a civilian national disaster response force to free up the defence force to meet intensifying military threats abroad, which was mooted by Labor defence spokesperson Brendan O’Connor during the election campaign, would be missed in a risk assessment that was too outwardly focused.

A third pitfall is to underestimate the systemic nature of the climate-change threat. That’s one reason maritime Southeast Asia has been overlooked as a climate-change hotspot. Most analysis of climate impacts tends to focus on individual hazards rather than on the systemwide effects.

For example, a study might examine how rising temperatures will reduce food production, but not the compounding impacts of other hazards—such as flooding, drought, fires, increases of pests, saltwater inundation, cyclones and migration—all of which will be occurring simultaneously as the climate warms. It’s analytically difficult to do this and to take account of how hazards can trigger other disruptions and cause cascading impacts—and responses—across society. Unless the risk assessment grapples with this reality, it will fundamentally misjudge the scale of the challenge we face.

The review also needs to avoid miscalculating how quickly major societal impacts will begin appearing. We tend to assume that the pace of climate change we’ve experienced in the recent past is what we can expect in future. In fact, impacts are now increasing in a non-linear fashion. Extreme heat events, for example, have mushroomed 90-fold over the past 10 years, relative to the 30 years from 1951 to 1980. Severe, one-in-100-year floods will become annual events in many parts of the world in the decades ahead. These changes are even now beginning to appear in Southeast Asia, where sea levels are rising at the fastest pace globally. Around 75 million Indonesians are already exposed to high flood risk.

Albanese has said that the review needs to be completed within four months (although he has committed the new government to regularly updating it). Meeting that deadline will require some shortcuts to be taken. The fifth pitfall the review team must avoid is the temptation to oversimplify the process.

It would be unfortunate, for example, if the final report was just a collection of responses of government departments to a series of common questions. That was essentially the approach of President Joe Biden’s administration in the US. The result was a patchy assessment of uneven quality with little whole-of-government integration.

Climate risks don’t fit neatly into bureaucratic silos. Ideally, the process should begin with consultation across government to identify the key objectives, such as securing borders, ensuring energy security, tackling transnational organised crime, and countering terrorism and violent extremism, many of which will fall within the mandates of multiple government departments. These national objectives would be the reference points for the review, and relevant government agencies would work together to identify the risks and responses.

One topic that will certainly feature prominently in the assessment is China’s regional trajectory—which can’t be understood separately from the risks posed by climate change. It’s critical for Australia to develop a deep and nuanced understanding of how China’s actions are shaped by climate considerations, or, conversely, how climate change may affect Australian efforts to compete (or cooperate) with China in the region. The risk assessment should lay the groundwork for that important longer-term effort.

Historian J.R. McNeill recently observed, ‘There is no precedent in human history for a global disaster that affects whole societies in multiple ways at many different locations at once.’ This is the core challenge for Shearer and his interdepartmental team. Climate threats exist in every direction, domestically, regionally and internationally. It will take exceptionally good judgement and execution to ensure that the review avoids becoming, at one extreme, a platitude, and at the other, mired in complexity.

Australia’s national security depends on getting it right.

How far will Bongbong Marcos tilt the Philippines towards China?

The victory of Ferdinand ‘Bongbong’ Marcos Jr in the 9 May Philippine presidential election might not appear to be the greatest advertisement for the nation’s brand of democracy, least of all a harbinger of a greater commitment to human rights and liberal democratic values than has been evident in the illiberal tenure of outgoing president Rodrigo Duterte. But there’s no denying its dimensions. Marcos achieved the biggest vote share and winning margin, and the most extensive support geographically, since the end of the martial law era that his father, the late Ferdinand Marcos Sr, imposed in 1972.

The impact of Marcos’s triumph on regional strategic affairs, however, is unlikely to be profound. At the very least, it’s not likely to halt Manila’s steady drift back towards a closer alignment with its treaty ally, the United States, thanks more to Beijing’s actions than Washington’s.

Much of the commentary in Australia about Bongbong Marcos relates more to his parents than to him, and for obvious reasons. Anyone old enough to have lived through at least part of Marcos Sr’s period in office can appreciate the newsworthiness of his son’s accession and the contrivances that have helped bring it about, not least the evidently successful Orwellian efforts through social media to rehabilitate the egregiously corrupt former dictator and his equally venal wife, the well-heeled, eternally bouffanted Imelda.

Some of this is relevant to what a Bongbong presidency is likely to mean, including with regard to the nation’s strategic posture. Marcos Jr seems not to have put behind him his father’s ouster and Washington’s unreadiness to preserve him in power in the face of the ‘people power’ revolution that toppled him. If various US administrations had long been prepared to turn a blind eye to Marcos Sr’s oppressive maladministration against a Cold War backdrop that featured a war just across the South China Sea that had killed more than 50,000 US troops, in the end not even Ronald Reagan was willing to save him after he held a widely discredited snap election in 1986 that prompted mass protests and elite defections, including by the military’s leadership. And not even the fact that the Reagan administration allowed the dictator and his family sanctuary in Hawaii seems to have completely assuaged the Marcoses’ resentment over the US’s perceived betrayal and the loss of power and privilege to which the family considered itself entitled—and apparently still does.

More recent developments probably also colour Bongbong’s views on the US. The most significant is a longstanding contempt of court judgement against him in the country, which itself relates to a class action brought against his father over human rights abuses. Issued in 1995, the order has meant that Marcos Jr now faces a bill amounting to well over US$350 million, which he has refused to pay. As things stand, he would risk arrest in the US were he to set foot in the country prior to assuming the presidency, or at least a legal motion to enforce payment.

That said, whatever grievances Bongbong might still harbour towards the US over these issues, they probably pale into relative insignificance when compared with those of Duterte. Largely as a function of his Mindanaoan identity—the southern island’s US colonial experience was marked especially by violent suppression of the local Moro people and perceived anti-nationalist offences—Duterte was by default attracted to the ardent nationalist narrative of US imperialism that many Filipinos share but which Bongbong has not evinced to the same degree.

At the same time, for political reasons Duterte was determined to repudiate the presidency of his predecessor, Benigno ‘Noynoy’ Aquino III, the son of the ‘people power’ leader who replaced Marcos Sr as president, Corazon Aquino. A feature of Noynoy’s tenure was his strongly pro-US, anti-China position, which Duterte was quick to overturn. The US’s (and other Western countries’) negative reaction to Duterte’s brutal domestic policies, above all his bloody assault on alleged drug offenders, only served to cement his anti-US disposition. His predilection for extrajudicial murder was never going to draw the same criticism from Beijing. But his sidling up to China was certainly aimed at drawing generous economic benefits, relatively few of which have materialised.

Yet even Duterte could never break the nation’s ties to the US, especially in terms of security. On the contrary, as his presidency progressed, so too did a gradual reconnection with Washington, thanks largely to the efforts of Foreign Secretary Teodoro Locsin and Secretary of National Defense Delfin Lorenzana, but above all to the actions of China. Lorenzana has at times expressed frustration with the alliance and the guarantee it provides of the US’s commitment to the Philippines’ defence and security. But this stems from his and other Filipinos’ alarm and anger about China’s belligerent actions in waters in the South China Sea claimed by the Philippines under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea—a sentiment most colourfully expressed by Locsin in a tweet demanding that China ‘GET THE F**K OUT’ of its territory.

Surveys confirm that Locsin speaks eloquently for the great majority of Filipinos on this matter, showing that the US (along with Quad partners Japan and Australia) enjoys vastly greater levels of trust than China.

Bongbong may well see material advantage for his country in once again pursuing a closer partnership with China. His own links to China are longstanding and well illustrated by China’s establishment in 2007 of a consulate, at his apparent urging, in the Marcos family stronghold of Ilocos Norte Province, a region that offered no reasonable grounds for such a presence but of which he was the then-governor. During his campaign, he presented as readier than others to engage China on bilateral problems, even saying in one interview that he would be prepared to negotiate a deal with Beijing to get beyond the countries’ impasse over the Hague-based arbitral tribunal’s 2016 ruling in Manila’s favour over their South China Sea dispute. Whom he appoints to the defence and foreign affairs portfolios will offer some clue as to where he intends heading.

Even so, neither the predisposition of the Philippine elite (especially among the military) nor the popular mood appears conducive to such a shift. And Bongbong offers no reason for assuming that he will act in any way counter to either mass popular sentiment or his military’s interests—his father offers the best example of what that could mean.

Marcos, in short, might not have been Washington’s preferred candidate—his rival, the current vice president and human rights lawyer Leni Robredo, was surely that—but at least he doesn’t fit the bill of a Manchurian candidate anywhere near as snugly as Duterte, however much Beijing and its proponents might wish otherwise.

Nonetheless, the US can ill afford to take its relations with its ally for granted and to rely on Beijing’s militaristic and ‘grey zone’ activities making Washington indispensable to a Marcos government—and no one would know that better than the Biden administration. President Joe Biden himself was quick to offer his congratulations and to underscore his intention to work with his counterpart-elect to strengthen the nations’ alliance as well as boost cooperation in such areas as climate change, economic development and the Covid-19 pandemic.

And once Marcos is inaugurated—which looks inevitable despite a last-ditch legal effort to have him disqualified for allegedly failing to file income tax returns in the 1990s—his immunity should open up the chance for a visit to the US, precluding any risk to his liberty or bank account that the outstanding contempt judgement currently poses.

Welcoming someone with familial links to colossal levels of malfeasance and corruption, decades-old alleged tax misdemeanours and a court violation hanging over him might be more concordant with the character of Biden’s predecessor than with a leader who constantly invokes the merits of the rule of law, whether in a domestic or international context. But needs must when the devil drives—or at least when the exigencies of geopolitics do.

The geopolitics of the energy transition in the Indo-Pacific

This is the third in a series of edited extracts from a new ASPI publication, The geopolitics of climate and security in the Indo-Pacific, released today. The first article presented a 2035 climate security scenario, which is the reference point for subsequent articles, including this one.

While the forces shaping the Indo-Pacific’s energy transition out to 2035 are complex, some macro trends are clear. Energy demand in the region is projected to grow drastically and remain concentrated in urban areas, and power infrastructure will remain highly vulnerable to climate impacts. The uneven availability of finance to countries attempting to make the transition from fossil fuels to renewable-based energy systems is perhaps the most significant risk. Without major policy shifts, these trends prefigure widespread energy insecurity in 2035, with far-reaching implications for regional security, as the following projection to 2035 illustrates.

* * *

It is the year 2035. The global transformation of energy systems is well underway, yet only the most mature markets in Asia and the Pacific are able to use the ongoing shifts to their economic and (geo)political benefit. Continued reductions in the levelised cost of electricity generated from solar and wind power spur a rapid shift of finance flows into clean energy. Approximately US$1.2 trillion was invested annually in clean electricity supply between 2023 and 2026, yet it was disproportionately focused on OECD countries. In Asia and the Pacific, China and India are large centres of investment, boasting both rapid deployment of renewable-based generation and manufacturing capacity.

Already struggling players are losing out. A lack of finance means Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar and Thailand have been unable to significantly ramp up clean power generation capacities. The logic that stymies the transition in vulnerable countries is also often perverse. For example, power-supply disruptions to major Asian markets, most notably China, simultaneously deliver short-term boosts to the fossil-fuel markets of several Southeast Asian producers, most notably gas exporters Indonesia, Malaysia, Myanmar and Brunei. Faced with a lack of private- and public-sector finance to pursue alternative—and more resilient paths—these countries opt for boosting domestic oil, coal and gas production.

By 2035, energy systems across the whole region are under extreme physical and economic strain due to the severe and intensifying impacts of global warming, which has now reached 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels. The largest energy demand centres (Bangkok, Jakarta, Ho Chi Minh, Yangon) and other coastal cities are in the middle of a massive relocation inland, as neither the centralised power-supply systems nor cooling and heating appliances can withstand the pressure of repeated floods. This trend dramatically accelerated after the sequential El Niño – La Niña events in 2022–23.

Southeast Asia is transforming from a ‘maritime periphery’ for the major regional powers to a place of great-power competition on energy standards, finance and political influence. China, which has been historically dominant in Southeast Asia’s energy system planning through close links to regional governments and energy companies, has managed to establish itself as the standard-bearer in the increasingly decarbonised energy sector. The successful energy transition and climate resilience of its southern region is one of China’s security priorities, as climate migration leads to tensions at its southern borders. Moreover, its major low-carbon technology production centres are increasingly exposed to climate impacts, threatening Chinese companies with supply disruptions and loss of capital.

India’s presence in the region has grown considerably over the past decade, particularly within the India–ASEAN Power Grid connectivity initiative and within various power-grid cooperative initiatives. The third-largest manufacturing centre for photovoltaic cells and producer of over one-quarter of solar panels globally, India has become the primary supplier of solar-power equipment to OECD countries that are looking to diversify away from Chinese products and is in a fierce competition for dominance with Chinese equipment providers in Southeast Asia’s renewable-power markets.

The region’s dependency on China’s supply of raw materials remains extremely high, however, as demand for lithium, silicon, nickel, copper and rare metals is on a rapid and steady rise. Other parts of the renewables supply chains have been redistributed, and Malaysia, India and Vietnam have joined the regional market as major solar-power equipment suppliers.

The region has thus seen several geopolitical shifts as China cements its energy dominance, India rises as a major regional energy player and a handful of smaller powers manage to carve out renewable production niches.

There remains a relative lack of major support from OECD countries and international finance institutions. This absence is being filled by China, using its historically established cooperation ties and its mature domestic renewables market. Japan, by contrast, remains a prominent regional provider of fossil-fuel finance, locking many countries in the region into several decades of growing gas and oil consumption. Much of this finance will eventually translate into stranded assets.

* * *

The scenario just outlined is among the most probable outcomes unless decisive policy shifts take place in the countries of Southeast Asia and sufficient financial support from developed countries is granted. Sticking to a ‘business as usual’ scenario won’t be possible in years to come. The extreme weather events, unchecked loss and damage, and increased vulnerability of energy systems to the impacts of climate change no longer leave any room for status quo assumptions.

Measures that can help to rapidly boost the resilience of the region’s energy systems to climate impacts, and alleviate the impact of market shocks and energy supply crunches, already exist in 2022. Regional cooperation in risk-sharing and risk-management mechanisms and disaster preparedness, which is embedded in a broader international cooperation framework, is key.

We also know that a massive shift of finance flows will need to take place to unlock access to low-carbon growth for the developing economies of Southeast Asia, with public finance playing a key role in support of regulatory and policy action. And, globally, it’s critical for policymakers to ensure that the geopolitical shifts result in a race to the top rather than a clash of standards on a range of critical topics, including the diversification and resilience of low-carbon supply chains and the parallel critical-materials markets.

The policy challenges involved in managing the regional energy transition are complex and defy traditional policy silos, but governments must start acting now to avoid the worst outcomes that are possible as soon as 2035.