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.

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.

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.

Covid-19 has disrupted labour markets around the world, causing a global manpower shortage. Lockdowns in the early months of the pandemic triggered an exodus of millions of rural migrant workers from booming megacities like New Delhi and Dhaka. In the global north, the United Kingdom has experienced the largest decline in its foreign-born labour force since World War II. ASEAN countries have also been affected: Vietnam’s labour shortage recently worsened after the easing of travel restrictions in Ho Chi Minh City led to a large outflow of migrant workers.

Some high-income countries are trying to lure back foreign workers from emerging Asia as part of their national recovery plans, creating new challenges for the global governance of labour migration. In particular, ASEAN economies like Singapore and Malaysia that have large migrant labour flows now face a tricky choice: should they curb outward migration or encourage greater labour mobility?

This dilemma has come to the fore in Malaysia following the Australian government’s recent announcement of a visa scheme for ASEAN agricultural workers. Under this program—a response to Australia’s own shortage of farm labour—employers will sponsor farm workers from ASEAN countries, subject to a formal employment contract that complies with specified standards and obligations. In contrast to Australia’s earlier Seasonal Worker Programme, the new initiative allows Australian farms to employ skilled, semi-skilled and unskilled ASEAN farm workers on a longer-term basis. The first cohort is expected to arrive in Australia next month and then in March 2022.

But Malaysia’s recently elected government initially ruled out the country’s participation in the Australian scheme, causing an uproar in the local media. After opposition MPs demanded that the decision be reversed, the senior human resources minister issued a statement saying that the government has no plans to restrict overseas migration by Malaysians for employment purposes.

The government’s initial opposition to Australia’s visa program reflected at least three considerations. First, policymakers fear a large-scale brain drain. An estimated two million Malaysians currently are living abroad, many of them in neighbouring Singapore. And because the Australian program offers a possible route for ASEAN nationals to secure permanent residency and citizenship, the government is worried about losing key agricultural workers.

Second, political pressure to reduce the country’s dependence on foreign unskilled labour has increased significantly as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, and the Australian scheme competes with the Malaysian government’s plans to replace foreign plantation workers with local labour. Lastly, Malaysia’s farmers are ageing rapidly, creating an agricultural workforce crisis similar to that in Australia, but young Malaysians are reluctant to work in the sector owing to its unattractive pay and conditions.

Whether developing countries like Malaysia benefit or lose out from labour migration to advanced economies depends on the institutional arrangements governing labour mobility. Work-related migration from ASEAN countries to Australia is not a new phenomenon. But in the past, many migrant workers—especially from Malaysia—lived in the country illegally, making them vulnerable to exploitation and abuse by employers. Australian’s new program will ensure that foreign nationals have full labour rights and access to social-protection provisions. Malaysian MP William Leong therefore warned that the government’s opposition to the scheme would leave Malaysians working in slave-like conditions in Australia.

For ASEAN source countries, the Australian program will also increase the potential for brain gain, provided that it contains the right mechanisms to ensure reverse migration. Building a critical mass of Malaysian farmers with overseas experience and technological know-how in areas such as precision agriculture can be crucial to ongoing efforts to boost productivity in the country’s farm sector.

The Malaysian government’s recent flip-flop on migration-control policy also highlights a deeper structural challenge: the lack of a political consensus regarding the country’s own large population of migrant workers. Malaysia is a major destination for migrants in Southeast Asia, and millions of undocumented foreign workers are thought to be in the country.

Yet, soon after declaring its opposition to the Australian visa scheme, the government announced that thousands of low-skilled workers from Indonesia and Bangladesh would soon arrive in Malaysia to take up plantation jobs. Senior officials justified the decision on the grounds that Malaysians are unwilling to enter the sector because of its unfavourable working conditions. The US government late last year banned imports from Malaysia’s Sime Darby Plantation, one of the world’s largest palm-oil producers, citing concerns about the use of forced labour.

Malaysian policymakers therefore need to shift from short-term coercive measures such as migration controls to long-term remedies for the country’s poor labour standards and low agricultural productivity.

Globally, cross-country differences in wages and working conditions remain the two most reliable predictors of international migration. Average wages in Malaysia are relatively low and declined by nearly 10% in 2020 as a result of the Covid-19 crisis. Most of the country’s farmers are in the bottom 40% of the income distribution, and many live in poverty. On top of this, a significant share of employers are not complying with the country’s minimum-wage legislation.

Scaling up technology adoption in agriculture should be another long-term priority. Taiwan’s early investment in precision agriculture, for example, reduced its farm sector’s dependence on labour. While the introduction of commercial drones by some of Malaysia’s palm oil plantations has already yielded positive results, adoption of such technologies is far from universal.

Addressing these wage and productivity issues will go a long way towards stemming Malaysia’s brain drain and encouraging skilled Malaysians working overseas to return home. Malaysia has just taken up a seat on the United Nations Human Rights Council. Instead of curbing citizens’ freedom to work abroad, the government should focus on improving labour standards at home.