Tag Archive for: Japan

In trade, nothing can replace the US consumer. Still, Asian countries look to each other

How will the US assault on trade affect geopolitical relations within Asia? Will nations turn to China and seek protection by trading with each other?

The happy snaps a week ago of the trade ministers of China, Japan and South Korea shaking each other’s hands over progress on a trilateral trade pact suggested that possibility.

The three, from nations with deep historic antipathy towards each other, said an agreement would create ‘a predicable trade and investment environment’, and they promised to speed negotiations.

There had been no discernible progress on the proposed trilateral deal since negotiations were launched in 2012. That this was the first ministerial meeting since 2019 points to the challenge ahead.

Asian nations have been active—some would say hyper-active—in pursuit of trade deals. The Asian Development Bank counts 77 preferential trade agreements among the nations of the Asia-Pacific region (including Australia) and a further 109 agreements signed with nations outside the region. Its research shows the agreements provide little help to export volumes.

About 56 percent of Asia-Pacific trade is within the region, which is only slightly less than the internal trade of the European Union. However, the intra-regional trade share has shown no growth since 2005 and has in fact slipped since 2020, despite the spread of trade deals.

Asian nations hit by US tariffs will certainly seek sales elsewhere. However, the first link in the supply chains that bind together enterprises across the region remains China’s subsidised manufacturers while the prize market remains the ravenous appetite of the US consumer.

There have been big changes in Asian trade patterns over the past decade. China has become more self-sufficient, particularly since 2018, when Donald Trump launched his first round of tariffs.

China’s President Xi Jinping responded in 2020 with his Dual Circulation Strategy, under which China would remain open to world markets but would seek economic self-reliance and import substitution in strategic sectors.

An analysis by Hinrich Foundation shows the success of this import-substitution drive. For every $100 of GDP growth over the past decade, China has had to import only $12.50 of goods and services, whereas in the decade to 2013, it needed $21.50 of imports for every $100 of GDP growth.

China’s imports are increasingly concentrated among a handful of countries, led by Russia, Vietnam, Brazil and Australia. Hinrich estimates that countries representing less than 10 percent of the global economy have supplied two thirds of China’s import growth over the last decade.

China sought, in particular, to become less dependent on the United States as both a market and as a supplier. The US share of China’s exports fell from 20 percent in 2018 to 12 percent last year, while the US share of China’s imports dropped from 8 percent to 6 percent.

While China’s direct trade with the US has fallen, its trade with Southeast Asia has increased. China’s share of Southeast Asian exports rose from 12 percent to 16 percent over the past decade, while its share of the region’s imports went from 16 percent to 24 percent.

Rather than exporting finished goods to the US, China is selling components to such countries as Vietnam, Cambodia and Malaysia, which then sell finished goods to the US.

The US has provided most of the growth for Southeast Asian exporters, with its share of their sales rising from 9 percent to 15 percent over the past decade.

There has been no growth in the US share of Southeast Asian imports, which has held steady at around 6 percent for most of the past 20 years.

The US has also become much more self-sufficient over the past decade as a result of the surge in its oil and gas production following the development of fracking technology.

However, US imports of manufactured goods have continued to rise. Estimates by Council on Foreign Relations fellow Brad Setser show the US trade deficit in manufactured goods has almost doubled since the 2008 global financial crisis to about 1.3 percent of global GDP.

In the same time, China’s manufacturing surplus has almost tripled to 1.7 percent of global GDP. Other Asian countries have become intermediaries in the flow of manufactured goods from China to the US but have not replaced it.

There is no other market like the US consumer. US household spending in 2023 reached $19 trillion, double the level of the European Union and almost three times that of China.

The huge imposts on US imports from China, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand and Indonesia will increase the cost and slow the flow of goods to US consumers, but there are no obvious markets to replace them.

Whether the tariffs act as the catalyst for the reindustrialisation of the US—an objective of both Republicans and Democrats—remains to be seen.

Japan and Australia can fill each other’s defence gaps

Japan and Australia talk of ‘collective deterrence,’ but they don’t seem to have specific objectives. The relationship needs a clearer direction.

The two countries should identify how they complement each other. Each country has two standout areas: Japan has strengths in air and missile defence and in shipbuilding, whereas Australia needs help in both; and Australia has strengths in cybersecurity and its distance from China, both of which offer advantages for Japan.

It’s true that both nations have recently strengthened their special strategic partnership to the point where it has begun to show alliance-like characteristics, such as commitments to consult during regional crises. Yet practical coordination has barely begun. Discussions on bilateral cooperation often end at increasing interoperability—but to what end?

During the Japan-Australia Dialogue and Exchange program, hosted by the United States Studies Centre and the Japan Foundation from July to August last year, I engaged with many Japanese and Australian experts on security issues, including a Taiwan contingency. While many underscored the need for the two countries to deepen defence ties and prepare to fight together should a crisis erupt, there was little clarity on how exactly they should coordinate.

Although some studies are conducted behind closed doors, the overall lack of discussion stems from several factors. Japan has a limited understanding of Australia’s defence capabilities, and the Japanese defence community primarily focuses on implementing established policy. These factors have contributed to stagnation in finding new strategic opportunities.

In Australia, a shortage of Japan-focused security expertise and a preoccupation with the trilateral framework that includes the United States as well as Japan have constrained deeper thinking around bilateral cooperation.

Japanese and Australian foreign and defence ministers said in November that the countries were refining the scope, objectives and forms of their cooperation, a development that will help shape bilateral defence relations. This was in support of what they called strengthening collective deterrence. But all this work is still general rather than specific in nature, and discussion among strategists has been minimal.

Defence cooperation between nations with comparable military power and a reciprocal security relationship typically takes two forms: force aggregation, which enhances overall military capacity through joint operations; and complementary cooperation, which mitigates vulnerabilities by leveraging respective strengths.

Japan and Australia have primarily focused on force aggregation by emphasising interoperability, but this has limitations. China has an overwhelming numerical advantage, with about 1100 fighter aircraft and more than 140 major surface warships. Conversely, Japan has 300 fighters and 52 surface combatants, while Australia has about 100 fighters and plans to expand its fleet from 9 to 26 ships. Given this disparity, simply combining forces would do little to shift the strategic balance without further integration with US forces. Even then, the military challenges would remain immense.

Complementary coordination is needed, too. Both countries face the challenge of China, but their operational priorities differ. While Japan focuses on the East China Sea and the western Pacific, Australia can secure sea lanes of communication in the Indian Ocean and the South Pacific and disrupt adversary lanes. This would help ensure Japan’s access to vital resources and ammunition, sustaining its ability to keep fighting while weakening China’s. Japan’s combat endurance is important for managing the Chinese navy’s threat to Australia.

Functionally, Australia and Japan have distinct strengths, as well as vulnerabilities that the other can help mitigate. Japan faces challenges in cybersecurity and logistical sustainment, while Australia lacks integrated air and missile defence (IAMD) and efficient shipbuilding.

Fortunately, Japan has a strong foundation in IAMD and shipbuilding, while Australia excels in cybersecurity and benefits from a geographically resilient logistical basis. By addressing each other’s weaknesses through increased bilateral exercises, common equipment and systems, and joint defence industry investments, Japan and Australia can build a more resilient defence posture.

Japan-Australia defence complementarity is already taking shape to some degree. Geographic cooperation has been an indirect but longstanding feature for both nations due to US naval strategy since the early Cold War. Functional cooperation has advanced further in recent years. At the Trilateral Defence Ministers’ Meeting in November 2024, Australia, Japan and the US discussed cooperation on IAMD systems. Shipbuilding collaboration will likely begin if Australia chooses a design based on the Japanese New FFM class for its new general-purpose frigates. Cybersecurity cooperation is also advancing through joint exercises between Australia, Japan and the US.

Japan’s ability to sustain a protracted conflict remains a challenge, as its shipyards and ammunition factories are in range of China’s missiles and can be easily targeted. For both nations to make credible contributions to regional deterrence, robust defence-industrial cooperation must be a foundation of effective contingency and operational planning. Beyond shipbuilding, the two countries should look to collaboration on ammunition production to reinforce war endurance capability. They should also consider storing mothballed assets in Australia, such as aircraft that have been retired but are still worth keeping for a while, in case they’re needed.

Deeper ties will need dedicated advocates. Both countries’ strategic communities must define the desired end-state of cooperation and identify opportunities that advance this goal.

Japan navigates a course through Trump-era shoals

Japan’s relationship with the new Trump administration is off to not a bad start: so far, the two countries are agreeing on more than they are disagreeing.

The big development in the relationship since Donald Trump’s inauguration has been Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba’s meeting with him on 7 February.

Before the visit, there were several apprehensions. Those included Ishiba’s shaky political position at home, China’s status as Japan’s largest trading partner, former president Joe Biden’s blocking of Nippon Steel’s acquisition of US Steel, the persistent threat from North Korea and Trump’s unpredictable approach to Kim Jong-un.

Against this backdrop, Ishiba faced the difficult task of aligning Japan’s strategic priorities with the Trump administration’s policy positions, such as the imposition of tariffs, withdrawal from the World Health Organization, sanctions against the International Criminal Court, and controversial claims over Gaza, Greenland and the Panama Canal. A challenge for Ishiba was to address those issues in a manner that best served Japan’s national interests, while simultaneously building a personal rapport with Trump—similar to the relationship former prime minister Shinzo Abe cultivated—by adopting a conciliatory approach without compromising Japan’s interests.

It appears Ishiba played his cards well. From the outset, he met Trump’s expectations by pledging to increase Japanese investment in the United States to US$1 trillion. This commitment, particularly in the automotive sector, will not only support Trump’s ‘Made in America’ agenda but also create thousands of job opportunities.

Additionally, Ishiba offered to rebalance trade relations by increasing imports of US liquefied natural gas, conforming with a Trump-endorsed slogan, ‘Drill, baby, drill.’ He also skilfully negotiated the previously blocked Nippon Steel investment, agreeing to a compromise whereby the US will retain a majority stake.

Geopolitically, the two leaders agreed on their continuous commitments to a free and open Indo-Pacific, assuring the continuity of Abe’s foreign policy. Japan’s 2022 announcement to double its military spending by 2027, in response to the perceived threat from China and North Korea, aligned with Trump’s tough stance on Beijing—although the level of spending may not satisfy the Trump administration, which demands that NATO members contribute a minimum of 5 percent of GDP. The continued stationing of 54,000 US military personnel in Japan also sent a positive signal of the solid bilateral alliance.

During the meeting, Ishiba cautiously skirted around some of Trump’s other controversial policies—such as the US withdrawal from the World Health Organization, sanctions against the International Criminal Court, and territorial ambitions in Greenland and the Panama Canal. Those issues hold long-term significance for Japan, but do not require immediate action.

Notwithstanding those identified convergences, Japan has to face challenges and difficult decisions in the coming months. A major strategic dilemma for Japan will be balancing rules-based and merit-based approaches.

For instance, the US claims of ‘ownership’ of Gaza may contradict Japan’s support for a two-state solution. In the case of the US-China trade war and the imposition of tariffs, Japan must tread carefully, not only because China remains its largest trading partner and one of its primary investment destinations but also because China has lodged complaints about US tariff measures with the World Trade Organization.

Trump’s proposals to make Canada the 51st US state, gain control over Greenland (an autonomous Danish territory) and reclaim the Panama Canal, combined with China’s ambitions to unify Taiwan with the mainland, present complex challenges. Trump’s possible peace plan for Ukraine should cause concern among those who believe that Ukraine today may be East Asia tomorrow.

While the US-Japan joint statement opposes any attempts to unilaterally change the status quo by force or coercion, Japan will need to decide whether to draw a parallel between the US and China or adopt a double-standard. Alignment with US territorial claims needs careful legal and political scrutiny within the Japanese government. Diplomatically, such alignment could undermine Japan’s support for a rules-based order, complicating its response to similar attempts by China, Russia or North Korea.

Considering the evolving strategic dynamics, it appears that where Japan’s core interests are concerned it is now time for Japan to display its strategic autonomy. This will prove instrumental in enhancing its credibility in the region and expand the area of cooperation with other partners, such as Australia, India, South Korea and ASEAN members.

At the same time, while strategic autonomy may increase Japan’s policy manoeuvrability, it will be meaningless if it has neither its own principles nor policy alternatives. Regardless of the US policy, Japan’s facilitation of a free and open Indo-Pacific, including through the provision of development assistance and capacity-building based on the interests of recipient states, should not only stabilise regions where the US is expected to reduce its commitment; it should also make Japan a reliable and responsible guardian of the rules-based order.

The Quad foreign ministers joint statement: short and sweet

Today’s joint statement from the Quad foreign ministers’ meeting in Washington is short and sweet, particularly for those who have been arguing that the grouping should overtly embrace security cooperation.

The statement’s emphasis on ‘security in all domains’ is a noteworthy and welcome shift from the previous, awkward position that the Quad was not a security partnership, despite working together in health security, cybersecurity and maritime security.

This inherent contradiction was unnecessarily self-limiting and confusing but persisted because Quad members, including Australia, saw this self-constraint as necessary to assuage Southeast Asian sensitivities about counterbalancing or containing China.

The Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade should update its official description of the Quad, which is currently a ‘a diplomatic, not security, partnership’.

Also absent from the statement is any reference to ‘ASEAN centrality’. This is notable because past Quad statements have all dutifully replicated this diplomatic deference to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. This ellipsis is an early indication that the Trump administration does not intend to pursue cooperation through the Quad only at a pace that is comfortable for Southeast Asian countries. In fact, ASEAN doesn’t appear to register at all as a policy concern among some members of Trump’s cabinet line-up.

While China is not named either, a joint commitment to ‘oppose any unilateral actions that seek to change the status quo by force or coercion’ leaves little doubt that Beijing is the Quad’s common challenge. A subsequent reference to ‘strengthening regional maritime, economic and technology security in the face of increasing threats’ should remove any remaining doubt. Beijing will inevitably react to such bluntness. But the Quad’s belated embrace of security cooperation is welcome. After all, security is a public good just like other elements of the Quad’s agenda, and something which the four countries should openly aspire to strengthen, without fear of offending others in the region.

Defence cooperation is not mentioned directly in the joint statement as part of the Quad’s security agenda. But it is strongly hinted in the commitment that ‘rule of law, democratic values, sovereignty, and territorial integrity’ should be ‘upheld and defended’ in the Indo-Pacific. (Note ‘defended’.) The Quad navies already exercise together in the annual Malabar drills. It is likely that a military dimension to four-way cooperation will now develop within the Quad, not only in unwarlike activities as disaster relief but also focused on deterrence. This should not dilute the Quad’s collaborative agenda in other policy fields, such as supply chain resilience and maritime domain awareness, but rather complement it.

The fact that the Quad foreign ministers meeting was virtually Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s first official activity will be read as a sign of President Trump’s willingness to back the quartet, which after all was revived in 2017 during his first term in office. This will come as a relief to Australia, India and Japan. And it underlines the Quad’s strategic utility not simply as a counterbalance to China but also as a means to anchor the US security role in the Indo-Pacific via a broad-based partnership with three of its most important regional partners, including its closest regional ally, Australia, and its most important one, Japan. India, which offers the heft as the world’s most populous country and democracy, will host the next summit of Quad leaders this year. Trump’s attendance in Delhi will be essential to maintaining the momentum.

This is a promising turn in the Quad’s fluctuating fortunes. It is tempting to inversely correlate the impact of joint statements with their length. The commendable brevity of this two-paragraph statement packs policy punches that were patently missing from some of the Quad’s recent, prolix pronouncements. When it comes to drafting joint statements, concision should be best practice: less means more.

The US, South Korea and Japan should work together on regional challenges

 

With Donald Trump’s return to the presidency now a reality, the Indo-Pacific faces an era of heightened uncertainty driven by North Korea’s growing military capabilities and China’s expanding regional influence. In this environment, trilateral security cooperation between the United States, South Korea and Japan is paramount.

However, Trump’s typical approach to alliances—characterised by unpredictability and transactional diplomacy—poses a challenge to this partnership. A recalibration of policies and priorities will be necessary to ensure that trilateral cooperation is effective and sustainable.

The Indo-Pacific security environment has evolved since Trump’s first term. North Korea has accelerated its nuclear and missile programs, with increasingly sophisticated weapons systems capable of threatening regional and global stability. China’s assertiveness has intensified, manifesting as aggressive actions in the South and East China Seas, economic coercion and expanded military presence.

North Korea presents the most immediate and existential challenge. Trump’s initial approach to Pyongyang, centred on high-profile summits with Kim Jong-un, produced no lasting denuclearisation outcomes. In Trump’s second term, shifts between direct engagement and heightened pressure could create an unpredictable policy environment.

Trilateral security cooperation could be a stabilising mechanism, enabling the three countries to align their deterrence strategies. Integrated missile defence systems, intelligence-sharing networks and joint military exercises are essential tools to counter North Korea’s provocations. Policymakers must also focus on closing operational gaps, such as improving interoperability between the US’s THAAD missile defence system and South Korea and Japan’s Aegis-based defences, to enhance collective security.

China’s regional ambitions require similarly urgent attention. Trump’s return is likely to intensify US-China competition, with a focus on economic decoupling, technological dominance and countering Beijing’s maritime expansion. Cooperation between South Korea, Japan and the US could reinforce freedom of navigation operations in contested waters, secure critical supply chains and strengthen cybersecurity defence. However, Trump’s past insistence on burden-sharing—such as his calls for increased financial repayment for US troop presence—could complicate this dynamic, particularly if allies perceive these demands as undermining mutual trust or commitment to shared objectives.

Historical tensions between South Korea and Japan could also obstruct effective trilateral collaboration. Despite recent steps toward reconciliation, unresolved issues related to historical grievances and territorial disputes continue to strain bilateral relations. The new Trump administration must act as a mediator to prevent these tensions from undermining collective efforts. This will require consistent diplomatic leadership, which was often lacking in Trump’s first term. By institutionalising mechanisms for dialogue and cooperation, such as trilateral defence ministerial meetings and joint crisis planning, the US can help ensure that Seoul and Tokyo remain focused on shared strategic priorities.

Policy implications for a second Trump presidency extend beyond traditional security measures. The evolving nature of threats, including economic security, cyber warfare and technological competition, demands a more comprehensive approach to trilateral cooperation.

Policymakers should prioritise joint investments in critical technologies, such as semiconductor manufacturing and artificial intelligence, to reduce dependency on China and bolster resilience. Expanding cooperation in space-based surveillance and defence systems would further enhance the alliance’s ability to respond to emerging threats. Additionally, public diplomacy is needed to foster greater mutual understanding and support for trilateral cooperation among the populations of all three nations, countering domestic scepticism fuelled by nationalism.

To ensure the long-term viability of trilateral security cooperation, the Trump administration must adopt a more strategic and less transactional approach to alliances. This includes reaffirming commitments to collective defence and providing clear and consistent communication.

Ultimately, Trump’s return to office presents both challenges and opportunities for trilateral security cooperation. While his leadership style and unpredictability may strain alliances, the strategic necessity of collaboration between the US, South Korea and Japan remains undeniable. By addressing operational gaps and expanding the scope of cooperation to include emerging security domains, the trilateral alliance can serve as a cornerstone of Indo-Pacific stability.

In a region defined by rapid change and intensifying competition, the success of this partnership will be a determinant of future peace and security.

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?

In 2024, a global anti-incumbent election wave

In a year in which political incumbents around the world were either voted out of office or forcibly removed from power, one statement, repeated in various forms by Mohammad Al Gergawi, the United Arab Emirates’ minister of cabinet affairs, stands out: ‘The role of government is to design a future which gives citizens hope.’ Looking ahead to 2025, political leaders should take this message to heart and shift their focus from constant crisis management to crafting a bold, hopeful agenda.

The global anti-incumbent wave has been breathtaking. In March, Senegalese President Macky Sall was decisively defeated after trying and failing to postpone the presidential election. In June, the African National Congress, which had ruled South Africa since the end of apartheid, lost its majority for the first time in three decades, forcing the party to form a coalition government. The same month, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party also lost its parliamentary majority.

This trend continued through the summer and fall. In July, the Labour Party won Britain’s general election in a landslide, ending the Conservative Party’s 14-year rule. In October, Japanese Prime Minister Ishiba Shigeru’s ruling Liberal Democratic Party lost its majority for the first time since 2009. Then, earlier this month, Michel Barnier became the first French prime minister to be ousted by a no-confidence vote since 1962. A few days later, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz lost a vote of confidence, paving the way for an early election, while Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau fired his finance minister, plunging his country into political uncertainty.

Other established leaders were ousted by popular uprisings. In August, Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina fled the country aboard a military helicopter as protesters stormed her official residence. And Syrian President Bashar al-Assad was forced to flee to Russia after his regime collapsed in December.

Why are incumbents losing? One possible explanation is social media. Studies have shown that increased internet access often erodes trust in government and deepens political polarisation. In the United States, for example, Democratic and Republican-leaning voters have become increasingly polarised, with each side becoming more deeply entrenched in its partisanship.

Social media fosters connection between people who consume similar content, reinforcing their worldviews and amplifying the psychological effect known as ‘conformity’. Social media algorithms act as powerful megaphones for simple, emotionally charged messages, making these platforms fertile ground for conspiracy theories and fearmongering.

But while early evidence suggests that social media bolsters support for far-right populists, recent election results show that this is not always enough to gain power. In Mexico, Spain, Greece, Ireland, Britain, Japan and South Africa, incumbents or other mainstream parties won, albeit significantly weakened.

Consequently, one clear takeaway from this historic election year is that governments must learn to use social media more effectively. A good place to start is to engage directly with voters’ concerns. Earlier this year, two advisers to Prime Minister Sir Kier Starmer visited the town of Grimsby in northeastern England and asked residents to describe the government in one word. The responses they received mirror what I have heard in many other countries: ‘irrelevant’, ‘authoritarian’, ‘distant’, ‘elitist’, ‘inaccessible’, ‘self-serving’, ‘unambitious’, ‘untrustworthy’, a ‘joke’.

Another major takeaway is that to restore trust, leaders should focus on economic growth and citizens’ empowerment. A comprehensive 2022 study of the political economy of populism highlights strong evidence that economic conditions, such as rising unemployment and cuts to social spending, have a profound impact on people’s views of government.

This helps explain why voters in Spain and Greece in 2023 and in Ireland this year chose to re-elect incumbent leaders, while French voters rejected the ruling party. In 2022, Spain’s economy grew by 5.7 percent and Greece’s by 6.2 percent. By contrast, in Germany, which will hold an early election after the government lost a parliamentary no-confidence vote, the economy shrank by 0.3 percent in 2023 and is expected to contract by 0.1 percent in 2024. France fared slightly better, with GDP projected to grow by 1.1 percent this year, after growing by 0.9 percent in 2023.

Beyond boosting short-term economic growth, political leaders must consider the future they are offering their citizens. Too many politicians’ and policymakers’ plans are limited to annual budget cycles and focused largely on cuts. Meanwhile, voters—grappling with rising living costs, post-pandemic austerity and a pervasive sense that they have lost control over their lives—need leaders who give them reasons for hope.

Budgetary constraints should not be an excuse for failing to envision a better future. Some of the boldest government initiatives have been conceived during times of economic hardship. Notable examples include US President Franklin D Roosevelt’s New Deal in the 1930s, Britain’s postwar welfare state, Dubai’s post-1958 infrastructure boom and Singapore’s rapid development after 1959.

Political leaders must draw inspiration from these bold programs and be more ambitious in addressing the root causes of their citizens’ frustrations. The good news is that every country and community has creative individuals, in both the private and public sectors, whose work requires them to think ahead and plan for the future. Leaders must identify and reach out to such visionaries, who are rarely included in policy discussions, and leverage their expertise.

A politics of hope is essential to restoring faith in democratic institutions. In Grimsby, local residents said they longed for a politics that is ‘realistic’, ‘meaningful’, ‘passionate’, ‘hopeful’, and ‘empowering’. A government that can fulfill these aspirations will prove itself worthy of its citizens’ trust.

Editors’ picks for 2024: ‘GCAP: a big fighter designed for Pacific (and Australian) distances’

Originally published on 21 August 2024.

BAE Systems and its Global Combat Air Programme (GCAP) partners pulled off a coup of technology theatre at the Farnborough air show in July, unveiling a new design for their GCAP figher, in full-scale model form, that looked very different from any other existing or proposed aircraft. Surprises for the combat aircraft community included the aircraft’s size, much larger than the Typhoon or F-35 fighters, and a quite enormous, moderately swept delta wing.

GCAP is supposed to become the mainstay of Japan’s combat aircraft force after entering service in 2035, as well as the chief fighter of partners Britain and Italy. The stealthy aircraft is also a clear candidate as Australia’s next fighter.

What we see from the design is a long-range fighter that far better suits Pacific (and Australian) distances than aircraft now available, though it lacks extreme flight performance, which is looking ever less useful in air combat.

GCAP also has room for growth in capability.

The team at the air show did not disclose dimensions, and a journalist who produced a tape measure in the exhibit was, I am told, encouraged to leave at his earliest convenience. GCAP has been described as one-third bigger than Typhoon—roughly F-15 size, perhaps 20 metres long, but with a 50-degree swept classic delta wing spanning around 16.5 metres and having twice the area of the F-15’s.

GCAP leaders were firm that the model reflected the evolution of the design. The design has probably changed to meet changing requirements.

First macro-observation: the requirements are different from anything else. The last generation of European fighters were essentially F-16 or F/A-18-type fighters with added capabilities. South Korean and Turkish designs today, and the Shenyang FC-31, are US-inspired. Not so GCAP, formed to a Euro-Japanese requirement that edges towards the light-bomber end of the fighter spectrum, with an emphasis on payload and range, in a way we have not seen since the 1960s and the (much bigger) F-111.

The wing’s shape and size contribute to performance in two ways: massive fuel volume and low drag in cruising flight. Both promote range. It’s not a classic delta in the style of the Mirage III’s; it’s more like the capacious wing of the promising but never built F-16U, from 1995, or that of the Boeing X-32 contender for the Joint Strike Fighter program. The F-16U carried 80 percent more internal fuel than the standard aircraft; the X-32 wing, only half the area of the GCAP wing, could accommodate 9 tonnes of fuel, compared with 3.2 tonnes in the F-16C, for example.

The GCAP should have a usefully greater combat radius on internal fuel than most other current combat aircraft can manage with external tanks, while leaving space in the lower fuselage for weapons. That makes a lot of sense for a stealth aircraft, where fuel and bulky weapons must be carried internally.

Among the tactical opportunities of greater range is use of bases farther from the territory of the opponent–say, China. They would be more costly to attack with missiles and easier to defend.

The large span and area of the GCAP’s wing contribute to efficiency in cruising flight and good turn performance. The relative size of the engine inlets and exhausts and the smallness of the vertical stabilisers suggest that, to dominate the fight, the designers are not going for ultimate agility but are relying on sensors, long-range weapons and even teaming the fighter with uncrewed aircraft. (An aircraft this size could carry uncrewed vehicles into the fight under its wings, releasing them outside detection range.)

One wonders whether the European and Japanese planners have read the air combat study by researcher and former US Air Force pilot John Stillion, which pointed to a trend to longer-range engagements and declining instances of turning fights.

The wing sweep angle doesn’t seem to be optimised for supersonic cruise—supercruise. A fighter that can supercruise has much greater opportunity to make intercepts, but the feature has costs: it needs either an engine design that isn’t ideal for subsonic speed (one reason for the F-22’s non-stellar range) or one that has the complex and costly feature called ‘variable cycle’ (which has not been mentioned at all in the GCAP context).

Supercruise makes the airframe hot and therefore detectable, with a unique thermal signature that can be used to identify the aircraft. GCAP planners appreciate this: mindful of high-power radar-jamming from Soviet strike aircraft in the Cold War, the Royal Air Force was eager to get an infra-red search and track sensor (IRST) for the Typhoon. The one that’s on the Typhoon, the Leonardo Pirate, is as good as IRST gets, with a neural-net processor to filter false alarms.

Against such sensors, supercruising aircraft are not stealthy. That explains the apparent decision to forgo the capability.

Managing heat inside a fighter is a huge challenge. If it builds up faster than it can be dissipated through the skin, it can be stored for a while in the fuel. The Lockheed Martin F-35 program has struggled with this, but GCAP will try to get it right at the outset.

Engine company Rolls-Royce has demonstrated an embedded starter-generator and describes a system in which fuel and oil pumps are electrically driven and energy storage is provided for peak requirements. Meanwhile, the wing’s large surface area will help to offload heat without the skin getting too hot (and therefore too detectable).

Size and integrated energy and cooling will give GCAP room for growth. There is an interesting lesson here from the F-35. The JSF requirement was written when the Moore’s-law-driven development of electronics over two decades had vastly improved the F-16’s capabilities; it seemed clear that the development of electronic technology would continue, and it did. But what was not recognised was that, in a tightly packed and thermally sealed airframe, the limit on increased performance of electronics was not their volume and weight but getting rid of their heat. GCAP’s designers seem to have taken this to heart.

The power could be used in novel ways. There have been persistent reports of British work on high-power microwave (HPM) technology since the early 2000s. And Leonardo and the British Ministry of Defence expensively launched development of the latest radar for the Typhoon without foreign cooperation. A radar antenna could become an HPM weapon—and now Rolls-Royce says GCAP needs generators with the extraordinary output of around 2 megawatts. All that seems to add up to GCAP using HPM.

HPM attack can disrupt or damage radio-frequency systems—sensors and communications. HPM systems have challenges, including a risk of damaging friendly aircraft, but if they can be made to work they could be a powerful weapon for suppressing ground defences.

GCAP is different, better adapted to the Pacific than shorter-range jets, and has growth potential. As the largest Europe–Asia joint defense project and a major technological advance for all parties, the program faces challenges. But the design seen at Farnborough suggests that the requirement has been well thought through. It’s a promising start.

Editors’ picks for 2024: ‘The curiously cozy relationship between Taiwan and Japan’

Originally published on 18 June 2024.

Because Taiwan lacks formal diplomatic ties with most countries, it works hard at developing cultural and social links with them.

But not with Japan. Far more than is widely understood in other countries, Taiwan and Japan have an unusually close cultural and social relationship that doesn’t need government promotion. Their relationship might even be called cozy.

This must be an influence in international policy. Japan has its own national-security reasons for backing Taiwan’s preservation from Chinese conquest, but the mutual fondness between the two countries can only reinforce Tokyo’s resolve.

Most surprisingly, the close Taiwan-Japan relationship is based largely on nostalgia for colonialism. Many Taiwanese even feel reverence for their former Japanese colonial masters, who modernised the island during an occupation that lasted from 1895 to 1945.

More than anything, that colonial nostalgia is the doing of the Kuomintang, the nationalist party that lost China’s civil war to the Communists and came to the island in 1949. Japanese rule had been tough, but the Kuomintang’s was brutal.

Comfort, or even fascination, with a history of Japanese colonialism is a strong cultural factor that sets Taiwan apart from China and South Korea, where occupation by Japan is remembered with revulsion. Last year, Taiwan’s de facto embassy in Japan found in a survey that 77 percent of Japanese said they felt close to Taiwan and 73 percent believed that Taiwan and Japan had good relations. A year earlier, Tokyo’s representative office in Taiwan had conducted a similar survey, finding that Taiwanese had much the same feelings towards Japan.

Japan suddenly became aware of the depth of Taiwan’s affection for it after the 2011 Fukushima nuclear disaster, when an outpouring of Taiwanese donations exceeding 20 billion yen (US$230 million at the time) outdid contributions from every other country. It was a watershed moment for Japan.

Since then, Japan has repaid this friendship. For example, after China suspended imports of Taiwanese pineapples in 2021 in an apparent attempt to squeeze the island’s economy, Japan stepped in to buy loads of the fruit.

When a powerful earthquake hit the Taiwanese city Hualien in April this year, Japanese local governments and private citizens ran fund-raising campaigns. Hualien subsequently suffered from a drop in tourism, so diplomats in Japan’s de facto embassy in Taiwan encouraged Japanese expatriates on the island to visit the city.

Taiwanese visitors were the biggest spenders in Japan last year, even edging out Chinese ones. Taiwan is an unusually popular travel destination for Japanese. In 2019, before the Covid-19 pandemic distorted Japanese travel patterns, 11 percent of overseas trips by Japanese were to Taiwan, compared with 9 percent to Thailand, which is far more famous elsewhere for holidays.

Although Taiwanese are ethnically Chinese, they are culturally very different to the people of China. Much of that difference comes from Japanese colonial influence that permeates Taiwanese society. In Taiwan, the local Chinese dialect includes Japanese words, tatami mats are found in many homes, and big dollops of wasabi are routinely served with seafood. As for more modern influences, many young Taiwanese are keen to learn Japanese so they can read original editions of manga. They copy Japanese fashion, too.

The closeness between Taiwan and Japan isn’t just cultural and social. Mutual trade is booming. Japan is Taiwan’s third-largest trading partner and Taiwan is Japan’s fourth-largest. Japan has also voiced support for Taiwan’s participation in the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership, a proposed multilateral free trade pact

Amid concerns that concentration of advanced integrated-circuit manufacturing in Taiwan creates a global vulnerability, Taiwan’s star chipmaker, TSMC, has been lured to set up shop in Japan, the United States and Germany. In February it said it would add a second chip factory in Japan and increase investments there to more than US$20 billion. The word in Taipei is that TSMC’s Japanese ventures are operating more smoothly than those it has in the United States, thanks to cultural similarity.

In 2021, Taiwan worried that its stock of Covid-19 vaccines was running low, because, the government said, China had interfered with the island’s supplies. Japan responded with a donation larger than any other country’s.

Political connections are getting closer, too, even though they are more sensitive than culture and trade, because of China’s hostility. Also, old-guard members of the Kuomintang, remembering Japanese atrocities in China during and before World War II, are not fond of Japan. But the party has not held the presidency since 2016.

Parliamentary diplomacy serves as a Taiwanese channel for discussing security issues with another country. It’s vibrant with Japan. In 2021, Taiwan, Japan and the United States launched a trilateral strategic forum involving lawmakers from all three nations. That year, Taiwan and Japan also launched what they call 2+2 talks, in which two ruling party lawmakers from each side with expertise in defence and foreign affairs would meet twice a year.

The message from all this is simple: to each other, Japan and Taiwan are much more than near neighbours.

Editors’ picks for 2024: ‘Geopolitics, influence and crime in the Pacific islands’

Originally published on 14 March 2024.

Getting caught up in geopolitical competition may seem uncomfortable enough for Pacific island countries. What’s making things worse is that outside powers’ struggle to influence them is weakening their resistance to organised crime emanating from China. 

And that comes on top of criminal activity that’s moved into Pacific islands from elsewhere, including Australia, Mexico, Malaysia and New Zealand. 

This situation must change if peace and stability are to be maintained and development goals achieved across the region. 

The good news is that, Papua New Guinea excluded, Pacific island countries have some of the lowest levels of criminality in the world. The bad news is that the data suggests the effect of organised crime is increasing across all three Pacific-island subregions—Melanesia, Micronesia and Polynesia. 

The picture is worst in Melanesia and Polynesia, where resilience to crime has declined. In many cases, Pacific Island countries are insufficiently prepared to withstand growing criminal threats, exposing vulnerable populations to new risks. 

As China has gained influence in these countries, its criminals and criminal organisations have moved in alongside honest Chinese investors. Some of those criminals, while attending to their own business, are also doing the bidding of the Chinese government.  

If the criminal activity involves suborning local authorities—and it often will—then so much the better for Beijing, which will enjoy the officials’ new-found reliance on Chinese friends that it can influence. 

Democracies competing with China for influence, such as the US, Japan and Australia, are unwilling to lose the favour of those same officials. So, they refrain from pressuring them into tackling organised crime and corruption head on. The result is more crime and weaker policing. 

But more factors are at play here. Growing air travel and internet penetration have helped turn the islands into more accessible destinations and better-integrated points along global supply chains of licit and illicit commodities. 

When one starts mapping who is behind major organised criminality, the protagonists are almost always foreigners. The islands do have home-grown gangs but, when there is a lot of money to be made, there is usually the involvement of a Chinese triad, a Mexican cartel, a law-defying Malaysian logging company, or some similar criminal organisation. 

Groups that have entered the islands, such as Australia’s Rebels and New Zealand’s Head Hunters, both outlaw motorcycle gangs, or the Mexican Sinaloa drug cartel, are overtly criminal. Yet, some hybrid criminal actors are making their presence felt even more in some of the islands, and they are arguably even more pernicious and complex to eradicate. They tend to be foreign individuals who operate in both the licit and illicit economies, have become associated with local business elites, and enjoy political connections both at home and in the Pacific. 

As their operations have become bolder, as seen in Palau and Papua New Guinea, there are substantiated concerns that the perpetrators may be, or could become, tools of foreign political influence and interference. 

The poster boy of this cadre of actors is Wan Kuok Koi, aka Broken Tooth, a convicted Chinese gangster turned valued patriotic entrepreneur. Despite being sanctioned by the US, Wan has leveraged commercial deals linked to China’s Belt and Road Initiative and established cultural associations that have enabled him to co-opt local elites. He has also exploited links with the Chinese business diaspora to identify entry points for his criminal activities (such as establishing online scam centres) and has used extensive political connections to ensure impunity in his operations. 

Although they have a lower profile than Wan, many other foreign business actors are active across the region. They often gain high political access, preferential treatment and impunity through the diplomatic relations between their countries of origin (not just China) and the Pacific countries in which they operate. A further risk is that criminal revenues could also be channeled into electoral campaigns, undermining local democratic processes. 

These entrepreneurs have exploited favourable tax regimes, limited monitoring and enforcement capabilities and corrupted political connections. They often operate in extractive industries, real estate and financial services. 

As bribes pass from hand to hand, and as outside countries weigh their political considerations, Pacific citizens lose out. Some are vulnerable to labour and sexual exploitation at the hands of unscrupulous (and criminal) foreign businesses. Others see their lands, forests and waters degraded, or they are exposed to the introduction of new narcotics for which health services are unprepared.  

Fighting this transnational organised crime is critical to strengthening institutions in Pacific island countries and helping them build long-term sustainable prosperity. 

Outside countries should consider lateral approaches to crime fighting in the Pacific that may provide a framework for action that is more palatable to island-country governments than more sensitive, purely law-enforcement-driven strategies.  

Crime can be both a cause and an enabler of fragility and underdevelopment. With that in mind, the fight against crime and corruption could be framed as necessary primarily to address those two issues. They deeply impact Pacific populations, so it would be crucial to engage with affected communities along the way.

In the absence of such an approach, and with geopolitical and diplomatic considerations taking precedence, criminals will continue to exploit the limited attention that is paid to crime fighting and will profit as a result.

Tag Archive for: Japan

Stop the World is back with a pod on the Quad

Stop the World is back from its summer hiatus and, with so many major developments already, there’s much ground to cover in 2025.  

This week, ASPI’s Raji Pillai Rajagopalan speaks to Euan Graham and Griffith University’s Ian Hall about the Quad partnership between Australia, India, Japan and the United States. They discuss the significance of the Quad Foreign Ministers’ Meeting in Washington DC just days into the new Trump Administration, and the security role of the grouping in the coming years, including how – and whether – the Quad partners are thinking about deterrence.  

Guests:  

Raji Pillai Rajagopalan  
Euan Graham  
Ian Hall  

Stop the World: TSD Summit Sessions: Diversity and national security with Arfiya Eri

In the latest edition of the Sydney Dialogue Summit Sessions, ASPI Analyst Daria Impiombato interviews Japanese politician Arfiya Eri. Arfiya is a Japanese woman of Uyghur and Uzbek heritage. She talks about her experiences in Japanese politics, her experiences online and the importance of diversity in politics.

They discuss Japan’s place in the world as well as identity, diversity and national security. If you want to watch this interview rather than listen, head over to ASPI’s YouTube channel: ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@ASPICanberra/videos⁠

To watch Arfiya’s Sydney Dialogue session on demand, visit: ⁠https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caQskODUU7M

Stop the World: Japan in a blizzard of Indo-Pacific diplomacy with Guiborg Delamotte and Yamagami Shingo

In today’s episode, senior analyst Dr Alex Bristow is joined by Professor Guibourg Delamotte, Professor of Political Science at the Japanese studies department of the French Institute of Oriental Studies and Yamagami Shingo, former Japanese Ambassador to Australia, who is also, among several roles, Senior Fellow at the Sasakawa Peace Foundation.

They discuss this week’s “blizzard of Indo-Pacific diplomacy”, which has included the Quad Foreign Minister’s meeting in Tokyo, a US-Japan 2+2, an ASEAN meeting in Laos, and a visit by Foreign Minister Penny Wong to several countries in Asia including South Korea, where she made strong remarks about North Korea’s deepening ties with Russia.

They also cover the prospect of Japan’s joining AUKUS Pillar Two, to collaborate on cutting-edge defence technologies.

It’s a fascinating recap on some of this week’s big events with two leading experts on Japan.

By Professor Guibourg Delamotte

Stop the World: Japan’s security, partnerships and regional strategic outlook with Narushige Michishita

In this episode of Stop the World, we bring you the penultimate episode in our special series recorded from the sidelines of the ASPI Defence Conference ‘JoiningFORCES’.

This interview is all about Japan and regional security. Dr Euan Graham, Senior ASPI Analyst speaks with Narushige Michishita, professor at the National Graduate Institute for Policy Studies (GRIPS) in Tokyo and Japan Scholar with the Woodrow Wilson Center’s Asia Program. The conversation covers Japan’s perspective on the strategic outlook in the Indo-Pacific, the role of the US-Japan alliance and the evolution of the Australia-Japan relationship. Euan and Michishita also discuss Japan’s major investments in defence, including a promise to increase defence funding by 60 percent, and opportunities to increase regional cooperation on security, including through AUKUS.

Note: This episode was recorded on the sidelines of the conference, so please forgive the less than perfect audio quality.

Guests:

⁠Euan Graham⁠

⁠Narushige Michishita