Nothing Found
Sorry, no posts matched your criteria
Sorry, no posts matched your criteria
In hindsight, perhaps ASEAN was too optimistic about the Biden presidency. Who could blame it? After four years of the Trump administration, the region was more than ready to return to deeper engagement with the United States. A survey of regional elites showed that confidence that the US would increase its engagement jumped from 9.9% in 2020 under Donald Trump to 68.6% under Joe Biden.
That optimism has dissipated amid Covid-19, the Myanmar crisis, the Ukraine war, supply chain disruptions, fears of stagflation and increasing food and energy insecurity.
This is the context in which ASEAN leaders, with the exception of Myanmar’s Min Aung Hlaing and the Philippines’ Rodrigo Duterte, will meet with Biden in a US–ASEAN special summit in Washington this week. It will only be ASEAN’s second in-person special summit with the US since 2017—and a symbolically important one, because its leaders met with China’s Xi Jinping last year in a special 30th commemorative summit of ASEAN–China relations.
ASEAN countries’ divergent positions on Ukraine and Russia, Myanmar and the South China Sea (and by extension, China’s behaviour) will make for challenging conversations with their US host.
On Ukraine, it will be difficult for the summit to find language that expresses a common understanding of the problem. ASEAN is in a bind, unable to go beyond the two joint statements it issued in March. As if they expected to face pressure in Washington to disinvite Russia, the current chairs of ASEAN (Cambodia), the G20 (Indonesia) and APEC (Thailand) pre-emptively issued a tripartite statement stating their determination to ‘work with all’ on their shared agendas.
Then there’s the Myanmar crisis, where the lack of progress in the implementation of the five-point consensus will be a pain point for ASEAN. The recent consultative meeting on humanitarian assistance to Myanmar (one element in the consensus deal) will be followed by an impromptu meeting of ASEAN foreign ministers, called by Malaysia for the day before the White House summit. ASEAN Special Envoy Prak Sokhonn’s attempts to advance the other points of the consensus, including repeated requests to meet detained National League for Democracy leaders, have been rejected by the military junta.
On the South China Sea, the spotlight is on sweeping and competing claims made by claimant states, the risks of armed confrontation and progress in the negotiations on a code of conduct. These issues are by now a permanent feature in ASEAN meetings, and the usual expressions of support for upholding international law, including the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea and the pursuit of peaceful resolution of disputes, will likely form the key messages emerging from the summit on this issue.
Questions about ASEAN’s role in the US Indo-Pacific strategy and whether ASEAN (in part or in whole) will engage in the new Indo-Pacific economic framework hang over the meeting. The Biden administration’s success in more closely aligning its Indo-Pacific strategy with ASEAN’s Outlook on the Indo-Pacific will be critical to reassuring ASEAN of US respect for its centrality in the regional security architecture.
Meanwhile, the US withdrawal from the Trans-Pacific Partnership and its absence from Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership have left a vacuum in the region. The hope is that the administration’s Indo-Pacific economic framework will provide a counterweight to China’s growing economic influence, but the lack of political appetite in the US to engage economically is certain to disadvantage it strategically. There is moderate appeal in only some pillars of the framework on creating fair and resilient trade, improving supply chain resilience, driving infrastructure investment, assisting with decarbonisation and addressing tax and anticorruption, not all.
ASEAN countries are primarily looking for increased market access for exports—but the Biden administration has on more than one occasion said that its Indo-Pacific economic framework will not be designed in such a way that requires congressional approval. This means that increased market access and commitments are off the table, but ASEAN should still exercise creativity in economic discussions by suggesting inclusive work-arounds in areas like digital trade.
With the summit coinciding with the 45th anniversary of ASEAN–US relations, the US is expected to seek to elevate its strategic partnership with ASEAN to a comprehensive strategic partnership. Such status was accorded to China and Australia in 2021, but it’s unlikely that ASEAN will immediately accede to the upgrade for a number of reasons. First, a process of consultation had to be undertaken with China over two years and with Australia for over a year before that status was granted. The same process must be followed with the US, at least for reasons of optical parity.
Second and more importantly, a comprehensive strategic partnership cannot simply be old wine in new skins. An upgrade is expected to show greater strategic alignment between the two partners and intensified cooperation in new and emerging areas.
With complex and divergent positions, both within ASEAN and between ASEAN and the US—on China, on Russia, on Myanmar, on trade—such alignment appears elusive for now.
In a move that could usher in a new era of interventionist diplomacy—or, alternatively, represent a grudging aberration driven by realpolitik—ASEAN provided the first significant regional rebuke to Myanmar’s generals since their February coup by politely disinviting them to the upcoming ASEAN Summit.
Historically, ASEAN has been largely toothless in its reaction to human rights abuses in the region, despite shifts in its rhetoric and discourse over the past decade. With the organisation’s mostly timid and laggardly response to the latest Myanmar coup, history seemed to be repeating itself.
That changed at the emergency meeting of ASEAN foreign ministers held on 15 October. The statement released afterwards began with a discussion of the five-point consensus reached with Myanmar general and coup leader Min Aung Hlaing in April and the role of the special envoy, who had just cancelled his visit to Myanmar after being refused access to Aung San Suu Kyi and other junta opponents.
It went on to hint at Myanmar’s intransigence by ‘emphasising the need to exercise flexibility’, while noting that the situation in Myanmar was having an impact on regional security and the credibility of ASEAN itself.
The statement then mentioned—twice—the need to give Myanmar ‘space … to restore its internal affairs and return to normalcy’, which represented a strong diplomatic backhander for the military.
The coup de grâce, however, was the elevation of the exiled National Unity Government (NUG) to an equal standing with the military junta. The statement noted requests by the NUG to represent Myanmar at the meeting and then employed ASEAN’s (in)famous pursuit of consensus decision-making as a ploy to deny representation to both the NUG and the junta, instead deciding to invite a ‘non-political’ representative from Myanmar, probably a civil servant.
This outcome was not dissimilar to the recent negotiations at the UN General Assembly, where a lack of consensus over Myanmar’s representative led to the compromise of the existing, anti-junta, ambassador retaining his position. However, on that occasion the US played a strong role, whereas here the key decisions were made by ASEAN states, albeit with US support.
The opposition to junta representation was led by Indonesian Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi, who tweeted after the meeting that ‘the participation of Myanmar at the Summits should not be represented at the political level until Myanmar restore[s] its democracy through an inclusive process’.
Similar statements on the junta’s non-cooperation came from Singapore and Malaysia, and the Philippines also voiced its opposition to military representation.
These statements represent a far stronger public position in favour of democratic politics in Myanmar than ASEAN countries have previously managed.
The Myanmar military blamed the ASEAN decision on ‘foreign intervention’ by the US and EU, but responded almost immediately with an announcement that thousands of people who had engaged in anti-coup protests would either be released from prison or have their charges dropped. While many journalists and activists were released, some members of the ousted National League for Democracy were immediately rearrested.
The last time Myanmar elicited such a significant response from ASEAN was in 2005 when it was required to forgo its first opportunity to occupy the rotating chair of the organisation. In that case, however, the discussions were held behind closed doors and Myanmar fell on its sword rather than be publicly pushed.
That outcome was due to a potential boycott of the various ASEAN-related forums and summits of the time by both the US and EU if Myanmar was elevated to the chair.
In a parallel demonstration of the latent diplomatic power of the US in particular, the most recent decision may also have been prompted by the possibility of President Joe Biden boycotting the East Asia Summit, to be held a few days after ASEAN’s.
Although the general response of the West to the crisis has been to delegate responsibility to ASEAN, whose inaction until now has been lamentable, these developments demonstrate the significant diplomatic leverage that these actors have in precipitating change. Indeed, the military effectively admitted as much in its statements.
In addition to applying diplomatic pressure and safeguarding humanitarian supply chains, the main action the international community should now be taking to resolve the crisis is to provide material and diplomatic support for the NUG, and thereby the People’s Defence Forces—civilian militias established to oppose the junta—by, for instance, releasing frozen funds to the alternative government.
Arguments against this action on the basis that it will increase bloodshed and suffering in the country are undermined by the scale of the humanitarian emergency that is already unfolding.
As the days pass, however, it is becoming ever more urgent that this leverage and diplomatic power be exercised.
With the imminent end to the monsoon and the onset of the dry season, Myanmar’s military is gearing up for a major offensive against the People’s Defence Forces and the various ethnic militias across northwestern Myanmar.
There is no limit to the venality and brutality of Myanmar’s military and there is little doubt that the situation will become much grimmer before there is any improvement. But the very least the international community can do in this situation is to try to even the playing field between the junta and its opponents.
With ASEAN toeing the line of non-interference, the Quad has its first major opportunity to prove its mettle and help end the violence in Myanmar.
After a brief waltz with democracy, Myanmar once again descended into harsh military rule on 1 February. In the ensuing violence, the military, known as the Tatmadaw, has killed more than 1,100 Burmese, arrested thousands more and forced nearly 250,000 to flee the country. Increasing numbers of people are crossing the border between Myanmar and India to escape persecution, adding to the 980,000 Burmese Rohingya already seeking refuge in nearby countries.
ASEAN has long touted its centrality in the region, yet it has displayed a muted reaction to the violence in Myanmar. Despite moving towards a more cosmopolitan stance on humanitarian issues, the association remains mostly fangless against human rights violations by its members. ASEAN’s diplomacy on Myanmar has crawled along, limited to a goodwill dialogue with Tatmadaw leader Min Aung Hlaing, laggard action on humanitarian supplies, and the belated appointment of a special envoy to deal with the crisis more than three months in.
ASEAN’s principles of limited interference have severely undermined its effectiveness as a geopolitical tool. Meanwhile, the Burmese people are suffering at the hands of the junta. Beyond ending the bloodshed, immediate regional support is needed for Myanmar’s healthcare system to combat Covid-19, which threatens to cause outbreaks in bordering states. The Quad could fill that space.
The Quadrilateral Security Dialogue held its second leaders’ meeting on 24 September, in person in Washington, allaying any concerns that the grouping of Australia, India, Japan and the United States was dead on the vine. All four members are experiencing strained relations with Beijing and express a keen desire to parry China’s assertiveness in the region. The Quad espouses ‘a free, open rules-based order … anchored by democratic values, and unconstrained by coercion’.
Linked by these shared goals, the group ought to strive for a greater regional humanitarian role—after all, it was founded in part as a response to the 2004 Asian tsunami. This should start with Myanmar, and while the US and Australia have shown no qualms in denouncing February’s coup, each member has a role to play to help turn the tide.
India has strong ties to the junta, and in a strategy that befits his ‘Act East’ policy, Prime Minister Narendra Modi has walked a tightrope so as not to jeopardise India’s infrastructure projects in Myanmar. But by putting pressure on the junta—in collaboration with the other Quad members—to come to peace talks, while simultaneously providing greater protections and services to the displaced Burmese living in India’s Mizoram state, Modi must take a stronger stance. The trust that has already been built between the two countries increases the chance of cooperation between India and Myanmar’s regime.
Likewise, Japan is well positioned to influence the regime. Tokyo has kept communication lines open with both the government-in-exile and the junta, and helped broker a ceasefire. Japan is one of Myanmar’s top trading partners and also among its biggest aid donors. Tokyo needs to put aside its fear of losing diplomatic clout and take a front seat with New Delhi.
The Quad ought to harness India’s and Japan’s close ties to persuade the Tatmadaw to enter into peace talks with the ousted National Unity Government. While Aung San Suu Kyi’s administration was flawed, its powerful 2020 electoral victory represented a democratic mandate from the Burmese people to move their country forward, and while in exile, the unity government has begun recognising the Rohingya.
Fostering a transition to a democratically elected government would restore autonomy for the Burmese people. Australia could use its military and logistical know-how to spearhead a peacekeeping operation, as it did in Cambodia and East Timor. The Quad should also support the ‘three cuts’ policy, which aims to stop the funding, arming and granting of impunity to the Tatmadaw, starting with harsher sanctions to further isolate the entrenched military conglomerates Myanmar Economic Corporation and Myanmar Economic Holdings Ltd.
In line with its Covid-19 vaccine pledge, the Quad, particularly big vaccine producers America and India, need to work hand in hand to boost donations. If China can jump in to hand out medical supplies to the junta and resistance groups, then the Quad should double its commitment to prevent further catastrophe and position itself as the region’s foremost supplier.
By solidifying itself as a regional human rights mediator and facilitating a return to relative peace in Myanmar, the Quad would also edge closer to its purpose of counterbalancing China’s reach in Southeast Asia. The Quad is uniquely positioned to become a driving force for good in the Indo-Pacific, and its capacity to expand allows other nations to work alongside it. Myanmar ought to be the Quad’s first test, and its participation is sorely needed.
As the military struggles to stamp out opposition on the streets and in the mountains, there is almost no good news coming out of Myanmar right now.
Yet, in early June, the National Unity Government (NUG)-in-hiding released a ‘Policy position on the Rohingya in Rakhine State’ that overturned decades of consensus on the Muslim ethnic minority. Among Buddhist democrats and dictators alike, there was a long-held agreement to exclude the Rohingya from citizenship and the standard repertoire of belonging.
In an intriguing set of suggestions, the policy statement indicates some significant shifts for policy orthodoxy in Myanmar.
Throughout the three-page document, the NUG refers to the ethnic community as ‘Rohingya’, the minority’s preferred terminology. The ethnonym may initially appear of little consequence. Yet successive governments have refused to use the term ‘Rohingya’ and often used the word ‘Bengali’ to imply foreign interlopers, part of a process of erasing Rohingya history and identity.
The NUG commits to repealing the basis of the military-authored 1982 citizenship law, which established indigenous ‘national races’ in Myanmar that excluded the Rohingya, and pledges to replace it with a new citizenship act that ‘base[s] citizenship on birth in Myanmar or birth anywhere as a child of Myanmar citizens’.
Like others, we have been arguing for some time for the technical separation of ethnicity from eligibility for citizenship in Myanmar. The NUG’s move would make that change and bring Myanmar into line with many democracies, such as the United Kingdom and Australia, that provide a pathway to citizenship for anyone born in the country.
The NUG also wants to abolish the national verification cards that have essentially categorised Rohingya as foreigners and disallowed their chances of citizenship.
The policy reforms promise repatriation of Rohingya from neighbouring countries, predominantly Bangladesh, where over a million Rohingya refugees languish in camps. The offer of repatriation has been heard before, but without the promise of citizenship and annulment of the 1982 law, those proposals were hollow.
The NUG says it will grant the International Criminal Court, and therefore presumably the International Court of Justice, jurisdiction for crimes committed in Myanmar against Rohingya and other communities.
Such planned access reverses the National League for Democracy (NLD) government’s ban on investigators from the International Criminal Court and nullifies Aung San Suu Kyi’s defence of the military against charges of genocide at the International Court of Justice in November 2019.
So, why has the NUG taken these significant steps, and what does this mean for the prospects of justice for the Rohingya?
After the military coup in February 2021 deposed the elected NLD-led government, which was returned to power in a landslide in November last year, the NUG was formed by ex-members of the government and representatives of some ethnic minority parties.
It is an impressively broad grouping that draws its strength from a multi-ethnic coalition spearheaded by NLD officials who survived efforts to round up key leaders during the coup.
After the coup, the NUG is seen by many in Myanmar and internationally as the country’s legitimate government. In May, the Asian Network for Free Elections published a report that reinforced the findings in earlier reports by international election observers: ‘the results of the 2020 general elections were, by and large, representative of the will of the people of Myanmar.’
The NUG has been under international pressure to treat the Rohingya better. The US Congress, for example, has said it will withhold some resources until that happens. The ethnic cleansing of Rohingya in 2017 took place under the watch of the NLD-led government, even though it had no ability to constrain any military operations. Nevertheless, the NLD government provided electoral legitimacy to the military’s violent campaign, including in front of the International Court of Justice.
In addition, despite having the legislative capacity to overturn the 1982 citizenship law, the NLD continued to use it to marginalise and deny citizenship to various groups, most notably the Rohingya.
For NLD strategists, the judgement, crudely, was mathematical: the risk that compassion for the Rohingya could be used to end the NLD’s dominance at the ballot box across Bamar, Buddhist townships in central Myanmar. Moreover, they always worried that the military sought any means to portray NLD policy as disloyal, even treacherous. This year’s coup showed that the fears of military intervention were not a fantasy.
With the coup, the NUG now needs to deal with a new reality, where democratic and ethnic forces are on the back foot. Embracing the Rohingya is a late adjustment to what were well-entrenched policies of exclusion. Whether the NUG will ever have the chance to implement this policy is another question.
But it is still a significant set of shifts that can help re-legitimise the claims of federally minded, democratic groups in Myanmar, including the NLD and ethnic armed groups. They have made it clear that they will no longer be able to hide behind policies of ethnic chauvinism to support their populist claims.
Notably, the NUG was formed, and developed this policy position, without Suu Kyi. She has been held under arrest and incommunicado since the coup. At 75 and now on trial for a range of politically motivated charges, she is unlikely to again be the significant political force that she was in the past.
The treatment of the Rohingya diminished Suu Kyi’s international standing, and was a key factor in the muted enthusiasm, internationally, that greeted her 2020 re-election. But, in her absence, the courage of anti-government protestors on the streets is now being matched by explicit statements of intent to change Myanmar’s appalling treatment of ethnic minorities, especially the Rohingya.
These overdue shifts are a small glimmer of positive news at a time when Myanmar’s political deterioration is destroying too many lives. The prospect of the Rohingya, one day, finding a comfortable space in a future democratic federal union is a reason to keep listening to the NUG as it struggles to define a plan that begins to right the many wrongs against Myanmar’s minorities.
On 24 April, the leaders of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations are expected to gather in Jakarta to sit down at the table with the leader of Myanmar’s military junta, Senior General Min Aung Hlaing. This would be his first overseas trip since the Tatmadaw seized power from the legitimately re-elected government led by Aung San Suy Kyi and her National League for Democracy. Meanwhile, the world has been watching with horror as the Tatmadaw kills hundreds of pro-democracy protesters and arrests thousands.
ASEAN has been criticised for its muted response to the coup and ensuing violence in Myanmar. But its stance has been determined by its norms, which often also constitute its main limitation: consensus-seeking, non-interference in domestic matters and constructive engagement. This special summit on Myanmar has been organised with goodwill and in the belief that dialogue with the Tatmadaw is better than isolating it. It also aligns with the view that, as a regional institution, ASEAN should be the first port of call for international mediation. The proponents of the summit appear to be confident that they‘ll be persuasive enough for Min Aung Hlaing to want to listen.
But that’s a dangerous assumption.
While the ‘constructive engagement’ approach has worked for ASEAN in the past, it should not be invoked to engage with those who hold power unlawfully or illegitimately. Inviting Min Aung Hlaing to the leaders’ summit gives him a false sense of legitimacy and leverage back home for continuing his brute-force campaign. Members of the ousted civilian government and other opponents of the junta recently formed a ‘national unity government’ with Aung San Suy Kyi as its nominal head. If reports that this parallel government wasn’t invited are true, the summit may do more harm than good.
If ASEAN is hoping for a peaceful resolution to this crisis, perhaps through some sort of power-sharing arrangement between the military and the unity government, inviting only a Tatmadaw representative effectively negates such a possibility. The Tatmadaw overtly disregarded Myanmar’s civilian government and denied the results of the November 2020 elections, calling for a new vote to take place. Giving Min Aung Hlaing a seat at the table seemingly rewards with international recognition a junta that overthrew a legitimate government and continues to engage in mass killing.
International pressure—including condemnation, sanctions and the cutting of commercial ties by some countries—appears to have had little effect on Min Aung Hlaing. Will soft-spoken ASEAN diplomacy be enough to convince him and the Tatmadaw to cease brutalising their own people?
ASEAN as an intergovernmental organisation has been faithful in representing the interests of its member states and respecting their governments. This ASEAN tradition meant that it didn’t criticise the 2014 coup in Thailand that brought Prime Minister Prayut Chan-o-cha to power or other issues that were considered ‘internal matters’ in other member countries even if they involved human rights abuses.
But it’s precisely because of this commitment to governmental interests that ASEAN shouldn’t validate the Tatmadaw’s claim to power. Doing so sets a dangerous precedent. It suggests that any future challenge to a legitimate government might stand not only unopposed by the regional body, but even accepted by its fellow leaders. That should be an uneasy thought for any of the Southeast Asian governments that jealously guard their own legitimacy.
ASEAN has a larger mandate—to protect peace and stability and to serve its people. According to the 1967 ASEAN Declaration, the organisation’s aims include ‘promot[ing] regional peace and stability through abiding respect for justice and the rule of law in the relationship among countries of the region and adherence to the principles of the United Nations Charter’. ASEAN’s charter reaffirms the rule of law and states that the number one purpose of ASEAN is ‘to maintain peace, stability and further strengthen peace-oriented values in the region’. ASEAN prides itself on maintaining stability; under its watch there have been no wars among its member states. But the situation in Myanmar is quickly spiralling towards instability, risking the future of the country and posing a threat to the whole region.
ASEAN members are divided, and the pre-summit manoeuvring clearly displays that. In recent days, there have been rumours that Min Aung Hlaing may attend virtually instead of in person. Thai PM Prayut-o-Cha has reportedly bowed out and will send his deputy or foreign minister instead. Thailand’s position is arguably the most precarious among the neighbours, given the resonance that its military and post-coup government could have with the Tatmadaw, and the growing number of Burmese seeking refuge in Thailand. The absence of the leader of such an important stakeholder in the Myanmar crisis would significantly diminish the summit’s importance.
Indonesia and Singapore so far have taken more prominent roles in attempts to mediate the crisis. Indonesia, the region’s largest democracy and traditionally considered the group’s informal leader, sent its foreign minister Retno Marsudi to Bangkok for talks in an attempt at ‘shuttle diplomacy’. Singapore, Myanmar’s largest foreign direct investor, has both commercial and political interests in a return to stability, and PM Lee Hsien Loong has explicitly criticised the junta’s use of lethal force against unarmed civilians.
Vietnam, which is the chair of the UN Security Council and Southeast Asia’s only non-permanent representative on the council for 2020–21, has been restrained on the matter. This year’s ASEAN chair, Brunei, was swift in organising a joint statement on the day of the coup, but it’s really Indonesia that has taken the initiative since then, and hence is hosting the special summit instead of Brunei.
Even ASEAN members that have no direct involvement in the crisis have a self-interest in keeping Myanmar from becoming a failed state. A stable, peaceful region that is an attractive destination for investment is in everyone’s interest, as is ASEAN’s long-term goal of fostering regional integration and narrowing the development gap.
ASEAN has made some remarkable breakthroughs in the past thanks to its engagement policies and adaptive nature. It’s those characteristics that allowed it to include and involve communist Vietnam and the still junta-led Myanmar for the sake of regional coherence and economic development. ASEAN sees its engagement approach as the means to the end goal of regional progress. This approach even yielded some success with Myanmar in 2008. But the situation this time is different, primarily because of the strength and determination of the civil disobedience movement. The military will not gain the support of the Burmese people.
To be sure, no single summit could resolve this very complex crisis and the peace process was always going to be a long and challenging one. Engagement, through informal meetings such as those already conducted, is needed to ensure ASEAN has access to and communication with the Myanmar junta. But formal representation of the Tatmadaw at the ASEAN summit, without giving any concessions in return, including first and foremost a commitment to stop the bloodshed, is not constructive.
If ASEAN really wants to play an honest-broker role, it should provide a safe space for the unity government and the Tatmadaw to negotiate. Bringing the parties together for such a meeting would be difficult to achieve, but it would provide a much-needed showcase of ASEAN centrality.
Myanmar’s military coup and the ensuing mass civil unrest have been presented as a litmus test of ASEAN centrality. Some observers have even portrayed the coup as ‘the most serious threat to the importance of ASEAN in regional diplomacy since the Cold War’.
Such an argument is curious on numerous grounds. Although individual states within ASEAN might care (or profess to care) about democracy, the organisation as a whole has always prioritised non-interference and respect for sovereignty. ASEAN has had little if anything to say in recent years about military coups in Thailand or substantial democratic backsliding in Malaysia, Indonesia and the Philippines.
Myanmar’s entry into ASEAN in 1997 occurred when the US’s democracy and human rights promotion efforts were at their zenith. At that time, and later when ASEAN was trying to deflect Western criticism by promulgating its own watered-down declaration on human rights, discussing Myanmar’s internal political character was fair game in a way that simply didn’t apply to other members. To the extent that ASEAN is trying to mildly pressure Myanmar’s ruling junta since February’s coup, such a dynamic has continued today. This doesn’t mean, however, that the upholding of democracy is a logical touchstone upon which to evaluate ASEAN centrality.
ASEAN’s centrality in the regional diplomatic architecture has rarely if ever been defined by the organisation’s ability to solve complex domestic political issues. Myanmar has always insisted that its various domestic peace processes are an internal affair. Accordingly, ASEAN has refrained from involving itself, despite—much like today—spillover effects impacting Thailand and close ASEAN partners India and China. ASEAN’s response to the Rohingya issue has never been praised for its efficacy.
This dynamic is in no way limited to Myanmar. ASEAN was not, for example, a particularly visible or key player in the Philippines’ efforts to break the siege of Marawi or in the negotiation and implementation of the Mindanao peace process. Nor was it a particularly important actor in the Aceh peace process.
There are exceptions, but they have occurred mostly in non-member states. Alongside Australia, ASEAN played a significant role in Cambodia’s 1992–93 political transition—before Phnom Penh joined the regional grouping in 1999. ASEAN also played an important, if not behind-the-scenes, role in Australia’s midwifery of Timor-Leste’s independence.
But, overall, ASEAN has failed to effectively respond to regional issues that appear to have far greater regional security implications than events in Myanmar.
Tensions over the South China Sea have often been characterised as the most likely source of a US–China conflict. Between China’s vast fishing fleets, militarisation of contested maritime waters and perceivably destabilising US freedom-of-navigation manoeuvres, ASEAN claimant states have had little control over broader dynamics there. Yet, largely because of China’s increasingly close relationship with Cambodia and Laos, ASEAN has often failed to achieve consensus on this crucial issue. Last year, ASEAN could only agree to a ‘muted and ambiguous’ statement.
Perhaps more important in terms of tangible everyday impacts is the issue of the long-term health of the Mekong River. China’s and to a lesser extent Laos’s damming of the upper reaches of the Mekong have exacerbated droughts and fragile ecologies in downstream countries. The result is that the livelihoods of at least 60 million people in Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos itself are now under threat. Climate change will exacerbate these problems and is already driving internal migration and lower rice yields. Declining fisheries and agricultural output raise the possibility that distressed local communities will turn to other means of making a living such as drug trafficking. So far, ASEAN has failed to even respond at the basic level to this issue. Vietnam was intending to raise the issue during its chairmanship in 2020 but was side-tracked because of the pandemic.
Rather than in resolving issues that are at their core domestic, ASEAN’s traditional strength has lain in keeping the peace in a region beset by historical rivalries and ongoing territorial disputes. ASEAN’s muted response—or indeed lack of response—to the South China Sea and Mekong issues may ultimately prove to be a greater threat to its centrality than its silence on Myanmar’s domestic travails.
Myanmar is leading Southeast Asia’s race to the political bottom. Since overthrowing a civilian government on 1 February, the military has killed more than 600 unarmed civilian protesters and arrested thousands more. Now, the country is confronting a deepening humanitarian crisis and the growing possibility of a civil war—developments that would have serious regional and even global consequences.
Myanmar’s civilian government, led by Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy, may not have been perfect, but it had the people’s support. In last November’s election, the NLD won a strong majority against the military-backed opposition. Within weeks, the military, under orders issued by Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, had arrested Suu Kyi and other NLD ministers and declared a one-year state of emergency.
Myanmar has been here before, having endured nearly half a century of military dictatorship and international isolation following the 1962 putsch and a bloody crackdown on pro-democracy demonstrators in 1988. But there’s something different about this coup: no matter how freely the military beats and shoots civilians, the protesters’ movement—built on an exigent alliance between civilian authorities and armed ethnic groupings—will not submit.
That is not unambiguously good news, because the military junta also will not give up, no matter the cost, leaving little hope of salvaging Myanmar’s political liberalisation, economic reform and development progress during a decade of civilian rule. Instead, the country faces the imminent threat of economic collapse, state implosion and internal strife—perhaps even full-fledged civil war.
Given Myanmar’s strategic location on the corridor linking the Indian and Pacific Oceans—sharing borders with China, Bangladesh, India, Laos and Thailand—violent turmoil there could destabilise the entire region. Already, the crisis is shaking a pillar of regional order: the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, whose members are divided over how to respond.
In line with the principles set out in the ASEAN Charter, Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore have called for the immediate cessation of violence by the military, the release of Suu Kyi and other political detainees, and the restoration of democratic governance based on the results of November’s election. But other member states—particularly Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam—prefer to emphasise ASEAN’s norm of non-interference in other members’ internal affairs.
It’s no coincidence that ASEAN’s more democratic governments are calling for a response to Myanmar’s putsch, while its more authoritarian governments back a hands-off approach. This highlights the limits of regional integration involving different regime types.
ASEAN has historically avoided the pitfalls of ideological differences by focusing on common interests and objectives. When Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore and Thailand created the grouping in 1967, they sought a platform for mutually beneficial cooperation among countries that were united by geography and their eagerness for a geopolitical counterweight to their larger neighbours.
From 1984 to 1999, five members became 10, with the addition of Brunei Darussalam, Vietnam, Myanmar, Laos and Cambodia further raising ASEAN’s profile as a means of empowering smaller states and supporting peace and prosperity. Today, ASEAN has a total population of 670 million (far exceeding that of the European Union) and a combined GDP of more than US$3 trillion.
Alongside this growth, ASEAN sought to establish itself as a force for wider multilateral cooperation. In the 2000s, it acted as an anchor for the newly created Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation, better known as APEC, the ASEAN Regional Forum, and ASEAN+3 (China, Japan and South Korea). And it has played a central role in high-profile meetings, such as the East Asia Summit, seeking to advance strategic dialogue and confidence-building goals.
Such activities helped to safeguard Southeast Asia from outside interventions like those that ravaged the region during the Cold War. The ASEAN Charter, adopted in 2007, built upon this success by providing a legal status and an institutional framework for the grouping that established a vision for shared security, increased economic prosperity and stronger socio-cultural connections.
But, as the Myanmar crisis shows, countries with vastly different governance models will always struggle to cooperate in some areas. The same can be said of the broader international response to the coup. The US and the EU have imposed targeted sanctions on Myanmar’s generals, though Asian democracies—such as India, Japan and South Korea—are responding less assertively.
By contrast, China, Myanmar’s largest trade partner, has blocked a United Nations Security Council statement condemning the coup—a decision that has contributed to perceptions that it supports the junta. Pro-democracy demonstrators have burned down Chinese factories in Myanmar in retaliation. And yet, eager to avoid an all-out backlash, China has been guarded in its response.
Russia, which joined China in blocking the UN Security Council statement—seems to have even fewer qualms, perhaps at least partly because it is unlikely to suffer any geopolitical consequences from mayhem in Myanmar. Though the Kremlin has expressed some concern about the civilian casualties, it is also a leading arms supplier to the junta. And, in a recent statement, it touted plans to deepen ‘military and military-technical cooperation in the spirit of strategic partnership’.
Ultimately, Western sanctions are likely to have only indirect effects, especially as ASEAN dithers. The fight for Myanmar’s future will have to be won at home. That is a chilling prospect, because it implies that unarmed protesters will need to face down a battle-ready army. In the short term, it’s difficult to see how Myanmar will avoid much greater bloodshed.
What does it take, one wonders, for ASEAN to take action against one of its member states? Not genocide, it seems, or a military coup, or the gunning down of peaceful protesters.
According to ASEAN’s charter, one of the purposes of the regional organisation is to ‘strengthen democracy, enhance good governance and the rule of law, and promote and protect human rights and fundamental freedoms’. In 2012 ASEAN adopted a Human Rights Declaration, reaffirming its commitment to respecting and promoting ‘human rights and fundamental freedoms, as well as the principles of democracy, the rule of law and good governance’.
Scholars of Southeast Asian politics generally agree that there’s little point reciting these commitments, because ASEAN member states never really believed in them anyway. The adoption of human rights commitments was seen by ASEAN as a necessary step towards attaining legitimacy as a regional organisation.
But still, one would think there might be a tipping point, a point at which human rights violations and disregard for democratic principles become impossible to ignore, for a regional organisation supposedly aspiring to achieve a ‘rules-based … ASEAN Community, where our peoples enjoy human rights and fundamental freedoms’.
My colleague Sarah Teitt and I have written that that tipping point may have been reached in 2017–18, when reports emerged of Rohingya villages being razed by the Myanmar military (the Tatmadaw) and civilians being shot as they attempted to flee. And if not then, then in 2018, when the UN fact-finding mission released a report concluding that there was sufficient evidence to warrant senior members of the Tatmadaw being investigated and prosecuted for genocide. And if not then, then in 2020 when the International Court of Justice ordered the government of Myanmar to take steps to avert the ‘real and imminent risk’ of genocide facing the Rohingya people still in Rakhine state.
It seems we were wrong, though, because as the genocide case proceeds through the international justice system, ASEAN is yet to issue a single statement even using the word Rohingya, let alone acknowledging the occurrence of human rights atrocities.
Perhaps, then, there’s no human-rights-related tipping point, no point at which ASEAN will decide enough is enough and take a stand in defence of human rights in its own region.
But if human rights concerns will never suffice to prompt ASEAN to act, then concern for its centrality—ASEAN’s status as the lead player in the maintenance of regional peace and security—surely must.
Last month’s coup in Myanmar has been vehemently condemned around the world. The UN special envoy to Myanmar has called for a reversal of the ‘impermissible situation’ and for ‘all collective and bilateral channels’ of influence to be exhausted. The UN secretary-general has expressed ‘deep concern’ and ‘call[ed] on member states collectively and bilaterally to exercise influence’. The G7 issued a statement condemning the coup, and numerous states have imposed sanctions.
ASEAN, for its part, issued a statement reiterating the importance of ‘political stability in ASEAN member states’, and ‘encourag[ing] the pursuance of dialogue, reconciliation and the return to normalcy’. One almost wonders why it bothered.
As Aaron Connolly wrote recently for the International Institute for Strategic Studies, ASEAN is able to wield significant influence in the region because ‘great powers accept its position at the heart of the regional institutional architecture. In practice, this means that these powers allow ASEAN to convene and chair major diplomatic summits, shaping the debates at these meetings in ways congenial to the bloc’s interests along the way.’
This is how ASEAN ‘centrality’ is manifested.
As described by Indonesia’s former foreign minister Marty Natalegawa: ‘At critical junctures in ASEAN’s journey … the association has seized the initiative; providing leadership and demonstrating resourcefulness at a time of uncertainties, with concrete and transformative policies. All throughout … the countries outside ASEAN deferred to it because ASEAN has asserted and earned its position of centrality.’
ASEAN’s centrality is unlikely to endure if those same ‘great powers’ that have respected ASEAN’s role in convening diplomatic forums refuse to recognise the incumbent regime in one of its member states. Those great powers presumably wouldn’t abandon ASEAN altogether, such as by resigning their status as ASEAN’s diplomatic partners, but they may be reluctant to take their seats at the table at ASEAN-led forums.
Indonesian Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi recently said ASEAN is the ‘most effective mechanism’ to respond to Myanmar’s coup. A number of world leaders have similarly expressed their belief in the value of ASEAN playing a role in resolving the crisis, and ASEAN would presumably welcome this assessment. But if it continues to simply watch from the sidelines as the Tatmadaw becomes ever more brazen in its disregard for international law, it is unlikely to be looked upon as the actor best placed to respond when the next crisis hits.
Each night for more than a week, unregistered flights between Yangon and Kunming have been transporting unknown goods and personnel from China to Myanmar. The military regime that’s now in charge of Myanmar is trying very hard to hide the flights. The Chinese government and Myanmar Airways have claimed the planes were carrying seafood exports. However, the details of the flights in question make that highly unlikely.
When the Myanmar military, the Tatmadaw, took over the country, it banned international flights. Very few flights are now using Yangon airport, and even fewer are flying internationally. But averaging five flights a night, up to three planes have been making trips to Kunming in southern China. Two of the planes are painted with Myanmar Airways colours and the other is unmarked. All of them are leased from private firms, so they should be in good working order.
Whoever has arranged these flights is going to great lengths to hide them. The planes’ transponders have been turned off, a violation of international aviation rules. We know the transponders work because we can see that they have been turned off for specific flights and then turned on for others. Beyond that, the Kunming Airport hasn’t registered them online as arrivals. Flight data is often missing from international flight databases, including flight numbers, call signs and even destinations. The failure to include scheduled departure and arrival times, as opposed to the actual times, makes it particularly difficult to track them on open-source flight databases.
But we do have the information sent via satellite from the engines (akin to what was used to investigate the fate of Malaysia Airlines flight MH370). And airport workers in Yangon and members of Myanmar’s civil disobedience movement opposed to the military coup have posted photos on Twitter from the airport of flight details and nightly arrivals and departures of the planes.
The three aircraft bear the registrations XY-AGV, XY-ALJ and XY-ALK. Most of the flights have been undertaken by XY-ALJ, which is an Airbus A320-214 painted plain white, and XY-AGV, an Airbus A319-111 bearing the livery of Myanmar Airways International. The A320-214 is owned by DAE Capital and the A319-111 is owned by AerCap Holdings.
The situation in Myanmar suggests two possibilities for what the planes are carrying. One is that they’re bringing in Chinese troops and cyber specialists to help the Tatmadaw control access to information and the internet. The other is that they’re increasing the Tatmadaw’s weapons stores.
Last year, the International Court of Justice ordered Myanmar to ‘take all measures within its power to prevent the commission’ of acts of genocide, particularly against its Rohingya minority population. However, if past behaviour is a predictor of future behaviour, the prospect of violent action against minority groups and other civilians in the country increased drastically when the military took over. This is especially the case for the Kachin on Myanmar’s northern border with China, and the 600,000 Rohingya remaining in Rakhine State, bordering Bangladesh.
It is common ahead of large-scale genocidal campaigns or campaigns to violently quell civil disobedience to see a sharp increase in weapons imports. Before the Rwandan genocide, for example, there was a notable increase in shipments of machetes. When South Africa was under international anti-apartheid sanctions, weapons were shipped from Burma to support the work of South African police.
It wouldn’t take particularly sophisticated weaponry for the Tatmadaw to continue its genocide of the Rohingya, but it would take volume and ammunition. Surveillance drones would help, as would simple rockets and area weapons. Although the ‘clearance operations’ of 2017 were a joint military affair, with fixed- and rotary-wing air support, the main effort was by the land forces, primarily with light vehicles, light weapons, knives and fire. The Kachin have had an organised resistance army for decades and have been subjected to more advanced weaponry. But the Tatmadaw have a long history of extreme brutality towards civilians, disregard for minority groups and egregious violence against women. These are all early warning signs for genocidal attacks, so we must be alert to any influx in weapons or ammunition.
China is the fifth largest arms exporter in the world, exporting well over 16.2 billion units of ammunition in the past 15 years. Beijing has been favouring deals with partners from the Belt and Road Initiative, and Myanmar has been one of the top three importers for the past decade. Kunming, in particular, is home to a significant artillery unit, the 63rd Base of the People’s Liberation Army Rocket Force, as well as a range of signals intelligence and cyber units, including one focused on operations in Southeast Asia. As a regional hub, the city also has significant storage and logistics facilities and an air base.
But Myanmar also buys much of its military hardware from Russia and the planes in question have also visited Cam Ranh Air Base, a former Russian outpost in Vietnam, to which Russians continue to have simplified access. In the weeks ahead of the coup, Senior General Min Aung Hlaing met with Russian Defence Minister Sergey Shoigu in Myanmar, finalising a supply agreement for surface-to-air-missiles, surveillance drones and radar equipment. At the end of the visit, the general thanked the minister for the visit, saying, ‘Just like a loyal friend, Russia has always supported Myanmar in difficult moments.’
The UN Security Council has long been prohibited from getting involved in Myanmar due to the influences of China and Russia. We still don’t know if either country knew what Min Aung Hlaing was planning in the weeks ahead of the coup. Although it took several days, it was encouraging to see the Security Council at least agree on a statement condemning the coup. Genocide, however, is a different issue. It is clearly a matter of international peace and security and should warrant a much clearer and firmer response from the international community.
The contents of those planes may well tell us what is ahead.
The imposition of US sanctions on the generals of Myanmar last week suggests that economic coercion will remain the first resort for President Joe Biden when confronting international crises.
Sanctions are a clear expression of US disapproval; however, former president Donald Trump’s greatly increased use of economic coercion failed to achieve any broader foreign policy objectives and left his successor with difficult decisions about which economic wars he wants to keep waging and how to retreat from those he does not.
The Trump administration imposed 3,900 separate sanction regimes during its four years in office, which was almost as many as Barack Obama’s administration ordered in twice the time.
The character of US sanctions changed. Whereas previous administrations targeted powerful individuals and entities, seeking to avoid widespread hardship on populations, Trump’s ‘maximum pressure’ campaigns on Iran and Venezuela sought to do as much economic damage as possible by threatening to bar anyone trading with a sanctioned nation from using the US dollar.
The range of targets was broadened and a wider set of coercive tools was deployed.
China has become a major focus of US coercion, particularly over the last 12 months, with sanctions imposed on officials associated with repression in Xinjiang and the security crackdown in Hong Kong. US citizens have been banned from buying securities in Chinese companies deemed to have military connections, and far-reaching export controls have been imposed. The Trump administration also sought to ban Chinese technology applications, including Tik Tok and WePay, from the US market.
It is a sprawling and uncoordinated conflict, with decision points scattered across the departments of Treasury, Commerce, State, Homeland Security and Defense, while Congress has imposed its own sanctions.
The US has taken aim at some new causes. It has sanctioned key officials of the International Criminal Court, freezing their US assets, over investigations of alleged US war crimes in Afghanistan. It has also imposed tough sanctions on any business involved in the construction of a gas pipeline from Russia to the European Union.
Legal firm Gibson Dunn notes that the pace of coercive action intensified in the Trump administration’s final days—175 sanction measures, along with a spate of technology-related measures, were enacted after the November election. It said this was ‘an ostensible attempt to force the hand of the incoming Biden–Harris administration on a number of key national security policy decisions’.
The New York Times has suggested that ‘sanctions fatigue’ has set in, with the frequency of their use diluting their efficacy. It cited the US ambassador to NATO under the Obama administration, Ivo Daalder, saying, ‘We have fallen into this trap that sanctions are the easy answer to every problem. They demonstrate that you care, and they impose some price, though usually not sufficient to change behavior.’
The Trump campaigns against Iran and Venezuela have certainly caused great hardship for those nations’ citizens.
There was popular unrest in Iran in late 2019 and early 2020 over fuel price increases; however, the main political fallout from the economic siege following the US withdrawal from the nuclear deal has been to strengthen the position of the hardliners.
Iran’s oil exports are recovering in defiance of the sanctions. A service based on the satellite tracking of oil tankers suggests exports have risen from a low of 695,000 barrels a day to 1 million. China is the major buyer, although widespread transhipment of oil cargoes to evade detection means Iranian oil could be being sold more widely.
The World Bank expects Iran’s economy to return to growth this year after three years of deep recession. As a result, Iran’s leaders will enter any negotiations with the Biden administration believing that they have survived the worst that the US can inflict through economic warfare and have nothing to fear.
Biden has indicated that he would like to return to the nuclear deal dumped by Trump but, for the moment, inertia is carrying the Trump policy forwards.
In the dying days of the Trump administration, the US Justice Department was notified by the owner of a Greek supertanker that its 2-million-barrel cargo, which was loaded in the belief that it had come from Iraq and was destined for China, may instead have come from Iran.
Shortly after Biden’s inauguration, the US took court action to seize the oil, worth around US$120 million. The shipowner complied, diverting from China to a US port, in order to avoid US sanctions. The US will sell the oil, directing proceeds to a fund for victims of terrorism. Iran has previously claimed such actions amount to high-seas piracy.
The Venezuelan economy is yet to show any signs of recovery, but the regime of Nicolas Maduro has been similarly unyielding to US pressure and consolidated its control of the national legislature in December’s elections.
Secretary of State Antony Blinken has said the US will continue to recognise exiled politician Juan Guaido as Venezuela’s legitimate president but will seek to make sanctions ‘more effective’. There has been a limited rollback of sanctions targeting Venezuelan ports and airports already. Removal of sanctions on oil and financial transactions would ease widespread hardship, but Biden would be unlikely to get the free and fair elections he seeks in return.
Biden will also tread a difficult path over Cuba, wanting to ease some of the restrictions imposed by the Trump administration without going back to the level of openness offered under Obama. Trump allowed Cuban exiles to sue companies making use of property that had been expropriated following the 1959 revolution, implementing a long-waived provision in the Helms–Burton Act. This has set in train conflict with the European Union that Biden will have to manage, with several legal actions targeting European companies.
The Biden administration has reportedly been negotiating on the most direct conflict with Europe over the sanctions attempting to halt completion of the gas pipeline with Russia. There’s a suggestion of a deal under which Europe would shut the pipeline if Russia halted shipments through Ukraine.
The biggest challenge for Biden is where to take the campaign of economic coercion against China. It has mixed motives including the defence of human rights, punishing breaches by China of sanctions against other countries, limiting the use of US technology by business connected with the Chinese military, more generally constraining China’s technological advance and narrowing the US–China trade deficit.
Biden last week said he would be guided by the findings of a Pentagon taskforce established to develop a coherent US strategy. He said the China strategy would require a ‘whole-of-government effort’ and would depend on ‘strong alliances and partnerships’. Whatever that strategy looks like, it is unlikely to force wholesale change in the behaviour of the Chinese Communist Party.