Foreign policy is always evolving.

By and

From India to Japan to the ever-growing territory of

the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, foreign
policies across Asia are always evolving. In this issue,
we focus on the ways foreign policymakers are
reacting to – and shaping – intensi�ed geopolitical
competition.

When Narendra Modi took the oath of o�ce for his

third term as prime minister, it cemented the
continuation of a decade-long transformation of
Indian foreign policy. In our cover story, New Delhi-
based correspondent Siddharthya Roy explores how
India’s role on the world stage has changed under
Modi – for better or worse. While India’s emphasis on
strategic autonomy and nonalignment is long-
standing, Roy explains, Modi has placed special
emphasis on winning global recognition and acclaim
for India – and pushing back, at times forcefully,
against critics. While this has paid political dividends
at home for Modi and his government, Roy notes that
India is already brushing up against the limits of its
capabilities.

Japan has long had a presence in the Paci�c Island

countries, encompassing robust development aid and
a longest-standing summit framework, the Paci�c
Islands Leaders Meeting (PALM). But since the last
PALM summit in 2021, Japan has stepped up its
engagement in the security realm in particular. As
Céline Pajon, head of Japan Research at the French
Institute of International Relations, explains, Japan’s
security outreach has gone from low-pro�le e�orts
mostly focused on nontraditional security threats to
providing defense equipment and the full-scale
involvement of the Japan Self-Defense Forces in
training regional counterparts. In the background, as
always, is China’s own increased security in�uence
in the Paci�c Island countries.

In early July, Belarus, a European country, will join

the Shanghai Cooperation Organization as a full
member, completely bursting its regional focus once
and for all. As Eva Seiwert of the Mercator Institute
for China Studies (MERICS) notes, the SCO’s
continued expansion – the group added India and
Pakistan in 2017 and Iran in 2023 – mirrors its
emergence as a tool for Moscow and Beijing’s
geopolitical ambitions. The SCO, once a Central Asia-
focused regional security organization, stands at a
crossroads. Its rising international visibility, Seiwert
writes, comes hand in hand with a loss of regional
relevance, which in turn opens the door for other
actors to address regional issues more e�ciently.

We hope you enjoy these stories and the many more

in the following pages.

The Authors

is Editor-in-Chief of The Diplomat.

is Managing Editor of The Diplomat.

Associated Press, Alex Brandon

Modi’s assertive foreign policy approach

has rede�ned India's image to that of a
more proactive global player. But can India
live up to the hype?
By

On June 8, 2024, Narendra Modi etched his name in

the annals of Indian history, surpassing all previous
non-Congress prime ministers to become the longest-
serving leader in this category. This feat stands as a
testament to his grip on the Indian political
landscape and his commanding in�uence over the
nation's domestic a�airs.

However, as Modi assumes the role of India’s

�gurehead for the next �ve years, the future
trajectory of India’s foreign policy demands a
thorough and multifaceted examination that goes
beyond the veneer of his political longevity.

Modi’s victory also demands a careful analysis of

how his domestic politics, rhetoric, and success have
a�ected – and will a�ect – his foreign policy and
India’s standing on the world stage.

For one, Modi’s accomplishment of winning a third

term – and, immediately after that, being invited to
the G-7 summit as an observer – is a testament to his
journey from a once-dismissed “provincial leader”
and “regional satrap” to a statesman with a
commanding presence on the international stage.

A decade ago, few could have predicted that the man

whose brand of Hindutva politics and strongman
image drew scorn from domestic opponents, Western
governments, and global political pundits would one
day be hailed as a premier statesman. The 2002
Gujarat riots, which occurred under Modi’s watch as
chief minister, led to signi�cant international
isolation, with the United States and other Western
nations denying him a visa. However, Modi’s
resounding victory in the 2014 general elections
compelled a swift reversal in U.S. policy, as
Washington pragmatically engaged with India's new
leader.

Fast forward to the present, and the very countries

and leaders who once criticized Modi during his
Gujarat days now acknowledge his indispensable
role in navigating complex global issues. Ironically, it
was Modi’s tenure as chief minister of Gujarat from
2001 to 2014, marked by his strongman image, that
laid the groundwork for his ascent, placing him in
the company of assertive leaders like Recep Tayyip
Erdogan, Xi Jinping, Sheikh Hasina, Vladimir Putin,
and Mohammed bin Salman.

With India’s rapidly sinking position in democracy,

press, religious freedom, and other similar indices, it
is only right that Modi is seen as one in the pantheon
of illiberal leaders in stark contrast to the liberal
democracies of the West. And this despite India
never losing an opportunity to call itself “the world’s
largest democracy.”

Modi’s hallmark approach, which prioritizes

economic development, infrastructure projects, and
foreign investment over social justice and inclusivity,
can be traced back to his time in Gujarat. In the face
of the backlash over the 2002 riots, Modi focused on
initiatives like the “Vibrant Gujarat” summits, a
strategy that remains central to his political playbook
as prime minister.

Under Modi’s leadership, India has embarked on a

robust economic diplomacy campaign, signing a
record number of bilateral agreements and
aggressively promoting domestic programs like
“Make in India” and “Digital India” on the global
stage to attract foreign investment. While Modi’s
frequent foreign visits and speeches initially drew
ridicule, especially during his early tenure, when the
late BJP veteran Sushma Swaraj served as foreign
minister, his persistent engagement with world
leaders has been instrumental in rebranding his
international image.

In his United Nations General Assembly addresses,

Modi has skillfully emphasized India’s cultural
heritage, economic potential, and strategic
importance, projecting the nation as a responsible
global actor. Unlike his predecessors, Modi has also
actively engaged with the Indian diaspora,
recognizing their role as ambassadors of India’s
interests abroad. His speeches to large Indian
communities in the United States, United Kingdom,
and Australia have deftly blended cultural pride with
calls for greater economic and political collaboration.

The second important aspect of Modi’s image is that

of going beyond soft power promotion in line with
this strongman image.

Modi’s foreign policy approach has been markedly

assertive. He has taken decisive stances on critical
issues, from surgical strikes against Pakistan in 2016
to diplomatic o�ensives against China following
border clashes. This assertiveness has rede�ned
India's image from a traditionally non-aligned nation
to a more proactive global player.

Modi’s revival of the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue

(Quad) with the United States, Japan, and Australia,
aimed at ensuring a free and open Indo-Paci�c,
represents a clear strategic counter to China’s
growing regional in�uence and underscores India’s
willingness to play a pivotal role in regional security
as a Western ally.

Through his deft foreign policy maneuvers and

personal diplomacy, Narendra Modi has successfully
transitioned from a provincial leader to a global
statesman, reshaping India’s international
engagement and cementing its position on the world
stage. His remarkable evolution serves as a
compelling case study of political evolution and
adaptability in the face of domestic and international
challenges.

The eruption of the Russia-Ukraine war in 2022

marked the �rst instance of India possibly becoming
a new face in global con�ict mediation – a role
traditionally played by Western European nations.

India has steadfastly called for the warring parties to

work for a peaceful resolution through dialogue and
diplomacy. It has stuck to this stance while showing
remarkable resilience to Western pressure.

Despite the harsh criticism, press and social media

pressure, and even direct lobbying from its closest
Western ally, the United States, India refused to
condemn Russia’s invasion outright. On the other
hand, India sent clear signals to Russia by
emphasizing the importance of respecting all
nations’ sovereignty and territorial integrity while
advocating for a cessation of hostilities and a return
to the negotiating table.

This approach was particularly evident during the

G-20 summit in Bali, Indonesia, in November 2022,
where Modi played a crucial role in facilitating
discussions between Russia and the West. Modi’s
personal rapport with both Russian President
Vladimir Putin and Western leaders allowed him to
bridge the divide and encourage a more constructive
dialogue.

Furthermore, India’s handling of the Russian oil

imports issue has showcased its diplomatic acumen
and ability to balance competing interests.

On the one hand, despite pressure from the United

States and other Western nations to reduce its
reliance on Russian energy imports, India has
continued to purchase discounted Russian crude oil,
arguing that its primary responsibility is to ensure
the energy security of its 1.4 billion citizens. On the
other hand, India sold the same oil to NATO countries
and helped them satiate their energy needs without
breaking the sanctions they had placed on Russia.

India has made certain the West realizes two things:

one, new realities don’t obliterate old ones. As close
as India has gotten to the West and the Quad, India
has no intention to abandon Russia, its oldest and
most steadfast international ally.
Two, India is ready to go beyond passive non-
alignment to active neutrality. Modi isn’t going to shy
away from using India’s growing economic and
geopolitical clout, which has also contributed to its
emergence as a key mediator.

As the world’s �fth-largest economy and a rising

global power, India’s in�uence on the international
stage has been steadily increasing. Its strategic
partnerships with both Russia and the United States,
as well as its membership in key multilateral forums
such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO)
and the BRICS (Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South
Africa) grouping, have positioned it as a vital link
between the East and the West.

India’s emergence as a mediator in the Russia-

Ukraine con�ict has also inspired a new narrative in
global politics that challenges the traditional
Western-centric approach to con�ict resolution. It
has demonstrated that developing nations with a
strong commitment to multilateralism and a
pragmatic approach to international relations can
play a vital role in promoting peace and stability.

Responding to questions raised in the Indian

Parliament soon after the full scale invasion of
Ukrainian territories by Russia had begun in
February 2022, Modi had conversations with both
Putin and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy
individually, urging both to chose negotiation over
confrontation.

India’s minister of external a�airs, Dr. S Jaishankar,

stated on the record that, “Prime Minister [Modi]
spoke with President Volodymyr Zelenskyy of
Ukraine on 26 February and, again on 07 March. In
these conversations, Prime Minister expressed deep
concern about the ongoing con�ict and resultant
humanitarian crisis. Prime Minister reiterated his
call for immediate cessation of violence and noted
that India has always stood for peaceful resolution of
issues and direct dialogue between the two parties.”

While India refused to join any direct involvement in

military a�airs, New Delhi sent 15 consignments of
humanitarian assistance weighing about 117 metric
tons to Ukraine and sent �nancial aid to rebuild the
Kyiv Gymnasium of Oriental Language No. 1, which
had been destroyed by the Russian assault.

Most recently, Modi met Zelenskyy in person on the

sidelines of the G-7 summit on June 14, 2024,
replicating a similar meeting at the 2023 G-7
gathering. In a post on X (formerly Twitter)
afterward, Modi called his meeting with Zelenskyy
“very productive,” saying “India is eager to further
cement bilateral relations with Ukraine.”

On the other hand, Jaishankar’s submissions to the

Parliament say that Modi “...also spoke with Vladimir
Putin, President of the Russian Federation on 24
February, 02 March, and 07 March.” Later, in
September 2022, Modi met with Putin in person on
the sidelines of the Shanghai Cooperation
Organization (SCO) summit in Uzbekistan.

Soon after the onset of the invasion, upon being

briefed on the status of negotiations between the
Ukrainian and Russian sides, Modi proposed that “...a
direct conversation between President Putin and
President Zelenskyy may greatly assist the ongoing
peace e�orts.” He continues to advocate for “dialogue
and diplomacy,” telling Zelenskyy that is “the way to
peace.”

As the world becomes increasingly multipolar, India’s

rise as a mediator and Modi as the face of that
mediation is likely to have far-reaching implications
for global governance and con�ict resolution. Its
success in facilitating dialogue and �nding common
ground between opposing parties has set a new
precedent for diplomatic engagement and has
opened up new possibilities for a more inclusive and
representative international order.

India has a strong history in the non-aligned

movement during the Cold War and had a clear
stance on anti-colonial freedom movements before
that. India’s demand for the United Nations,
particularly the U.N. Security Council, to become
more representative and include countries of the
Global South isn’t new, either. So Modi’s pursuit of an
independent, India-�rst approach to policy isn’t
novel or a shift per se.

However, the strongest shift in India’s foreign policy

under Modi is the marked departure from the
country’s traditional approach to international
relations as being distinct from domestic politics. The
once clear lines between domestic politics and
foreign policy have become increasingly blurred as
the Modi government actively leverages diplomatic
achievements to bolster its political standing at
home.

The BJP’s IT Cell has played a pivotal role in bridging

the gap between foreign and domestic policy,
harnessing the power of social media to shape public
opinion on international issues. From trending
hashtags like #BoycottMaldives in response to
Maldivian President Mohamed Muizzu clearly
favoring ties with China over India to trending clips
of Jaishankar’s public utterances criticizing “Western
hypocrisy,” the BJP has e�ectively mobilized public
sentiment in support of the government's foreign
policy decisions.

Not only have Modi and Jaishankar demonstrated an

unabashed appetite to turn global talking points into
fodder for domestic consumption, but they have
nearly written this “hitting back” into India’s
communication and propaganda policies.
The recent exposé by the Washington Post, revealing
the Research and Analysis Wing (R&AW)’s e�orts to
counter Western criticism through a network of
analysts and writers, underscores the government’s
proactive approach to shaping the international
narrative.

Moreover, India is no longer content with being the

subject of criticism; instead, it is actively challenging
Western perspectives and asserting its own voice on
the global stage. This was exempli�ed by Jaishankar’s
strong response to the U.S. State Department’s 2021
report on religious freedom, which he termed as
“vote bank politics in international relations.”

The Modi government’s assertive foreign policy

stance has been further highlighted by its response to
recent events. The crackdown on protests, such as
the 2020 Jawaharlal Nehru University protests
against fee hikes and the 2021 farmers’ protests,
drew international criticism, but the government
remained steadfast in its position.

The Indian Ministry of External A�airs’

announcement of a new democracy index aimed at
countering Western indices that often rank India
poorly showcases the government’s determination to
challenge established narratives.

The highlight of this projection of international

strength through media, however, is the �aunting of
an assassination program targeting anti-Indian
extremist voices sheltering in the United States and
Canada. While the charges leveled by the U.S. and
Canada saw routine and banal denials from the
establishment’s mandarins, IT Cell-led social media
unabashedly �aunted the allegations as victory
stripes.

Beyond media posturing, in terms of real geopolitical

alignments, Modi’s government has marked a subtle
but signi�cant shift from the overtly pro-U.S. policy
of his predecessor, Manmohan Singh, to a more
balanced approach that includes a renewed
emphasis on ties with Russia.

Despite India’s continued strategic partnership with

the United States, driven by shared concerns over
China’s growing assertiveness, Modi’s government
has shown a willingness to challenge Washington
when necessary. Despite pressure from the United
States and other Western nations, India’s continued
oil imports from Russia during the ongoing Ukraine
con�ict underscore this new dynamic in Indo-U.S.
relations. Moreover, India’s decision to abstain from
voting on U.N. resolutions condemning Russia’s
actions in Ukraine has highlighted its commitment to
maintaining strategic autonomy in foreign policy.

However, Modi’s government has faced criticism for

its perceived soft stance on China, particularly in
light of the ongoing border disputes between the two
countries. Despite Modi’s earlier promises to take a
tough line against Chinese aggression, the opposition
has accused his government of failing to adequately
counter China’s military actions along the disputed
border.

The June 2020 Galwan Valley clash, which resulted in

the deaths of 20 Indian soldiers and an unknown
number of Chinese troops, exposed the limitations of
India’s military capabilities and the challenges of
directly confronting China. The subsequent
statements by Jaishankar and his deputy, Meenakshi
Lekhi, acknowledging India’s limitations in directly
confronting China, have further fueled this criticism,
with the opposition accusing the government of
weakening India’s position vis-à-vis its powerful
neighbor.

What remains a high point for Modi, though, is that

despite these challenges, his government has made
signi�cant strides in expanding India’s global
footprint and enhancing its strategic partnerships.

The strengthening of the Quad with the United States,

Japan, and Australia has been a key foreign policy
achievement aimed at countering China’s growing
in�uence in the Indo-Paci�c region. The �rst-ever
Quad Leaders’ Summit, held virtually in March 2021,
underscored the growing importance of this
grouping and India’s central role in shaping the
regional security architecture.

India has also actively engaged with other regional

and multilateral forums, such as the SCO and the
BRICS grouping, to advance its strategic interests and
shape the global discourse on issues ranging from
terrorism to climate change. The Modi government’s
successful hosting of the 2021 BRICS Summit, which
brought together the leaders of Brazil, Russia, India,
China, and South Africa, demonstrated India’s
growing diplomatic clout and its ability to navigate
complex geopolitical dynamics.

India’s humanitarian assistance and disaster relief

e�orts, as seen in its response to the COVID-19
pandemic, have further bolstered its image as a
responsible global power. The supply of vaccines and
medical equipment to countries in need, under the
“Vaccine Maitri” initiative, has earned India goodwill
and strengthened its soft power in the international
community.

While all of the aforementioned successes have been

widely reported in the Indian media — especially the
pro-government ones – the less than shiny bits of
news �nd little place.

For example, India had to host the 2023 SCO Summit

virtually on account of �aring tensions with fellow
members China and Pakistan. The awkward and
di�cult geopolitical dynamics remained far less
reported than the purported successes of the SCO
Summit itself.
On the �ip side, this blurring of lines between
external and internal propaganda and posturing has
had a detrimental e�ect on India’s standing in its
neighborhood. The rise of Hindu nationalist rhetoric
and the Modi government’s emphasis on promoting
Hindu culture has raised concerns among India’s
neighbors, particularly those with majority Muslim
populations.

In the Maldives, the run-up to the 2018 presidential

election that brought Ibrahim Mohamed Solih to
power saw Maldivian Muslim groups attacking and
criticizing Modi’s relentless promotion of yoga as an
attempt to inject Hindu culture into the island nation.
The Maldives, a Muslim-majority country, has been
wary of India’s growing in�uence and has sought to
maintain its Islamic identity. The perception of India
as a Hindu-centric state has further complicated
bilateral relations, with the Maldives increasingly
turning toward China for economic and strategic
cooperation.

The recent election of Muizzu, who went to the polls

on a shrill and uncompromising anti-India, pro-
China plank, is further evidence of the Hindutva
hurdle in India’s neighborhood policy.

Nepal, another key neighbor, has taken serious

umbrage to the inclusion of disputed territories in
the new “Akhand Bharat” map displayed in the
Indian parliament building. The map, which depicts
a uni�ed India encompassing Pakistan, Afghanistan,
Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Tibet, and parts of Nepal, has
been seen as an a�ront to Nepal’s sovereignty and
territorial integrity.

The border disputes between India and Nepal,

particularly in the Kalapani region, have further
strained bilateral relations, with Nepal accusing
India of encroaching upon its territory. The Modi
government’s assertive stance on the border issue
and its refusal to engage in constructive dialogue
have led to a growing anti-India sentiment in Nepal,
with calls for a more balanced and independent
foreign policy.

In May 2020, Nepal’s Parliament approved a new

political map that includes the disputed territories of
Kalapani, Lipulekh, and Limpiyadhura, further
escalating tensions with India.

Bangladesh has also seen an increasingly restive

polity in recent years. Despite the leadership of
Sheikh Hasina, who has been a staunch supporter of
India, the rise of Hindu nationalist rhetoric and the
controversial Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) have
raised concerns in Bangladesh about discrimination
against Muslims in India and the potential in�ux of
undocumented Muslim migrants into the country.

The CAA, which fast-tracks citizenship for non-

Muslim refugees from neighboring countries into
India, has been seen as a violation of the spirit of
secularism and has led to widespread protests in
Bangladesh. The growing anti-India sentiment in
Bangladesh has also been fueled by the Modi
government’s perceived interference in the country’s
domestic politics and its support for the ruling
Awami League party. In March 2021, violent protests
erupted in Bangladesh over Modi’s visit to the
country, with demonstrators accusing him of stoking
communal tensions and promoting Hindu
nationalism.

Modi’s use of Hindutva as dual-purpose propaganda

content and the IT Cell as an all-purpose propaganda
weapon has, perhaps unwittingly, spawned a
dangerous feedback loop where propaganda has
become policy.

In light of the mixed success of the anti-Khalistan

assassination program and the arrest of R&AW assets
in Europe, the NATO and Five Eyes intelligence
alliances have recently sent clear signals to India
about its place in the global pecking order. This has
exposed the limits of India’s strategic ambitions and
its attempts to project itself as a global superpower.

In other words, this has come as a rude awakening

for Modi-led India, which has been consuming – and
become consumed by – its own propaganda and
delusions of grandeur.

The Five Eyes, in particular, have been reluctant to

share sensitive intelligence with India, citing
concerns over the country’s close ties with Russia
and its handling of classi�ed information. This comes
as a humiliating rebuke for India’s strategic
establishment, which has long sought to position the
country as a key partner of the West in the Indo-
Paci�c region.

The fact that the Five Eyes, which includes some of

India’s closest strategic partners such as the United
States and Australia, are unwilling to fully trust New
Delhi with sensitive intelligence has laid bare the
hollowness of India’s claims to be a responsible and
reliable global player. It has also exposed the
limitations of India’s attempts to balance its relations
with Russia and the West, a strategy that has come
under increasing strain in recent years.

Moreover, India’s exclusion from key strategic

dialogues and initiatives led by the NATO and Five
Eyes countries has also highlighted the country’s
marginal role in shaping the global security
architecture.

Despite Modi and Jaishankar’s much-vaunted

“strategic autonomy” and aspirations to be a “leading
power,” India has been shown its place by the very
groupings it takes part in, including BRICS.

While the much-publicized rupee-ruble trade

between India and Russia collapsed quickly, Russia
has continued expanding its ruble-yuan exchanges.
Similarly, in the rupee-riyal energy trade with Iran,
only 45 percent of the transactions are actually
settled using these currencies. Fifty-�ve percent, or
more than half the amount, is actually settled in
euros.

Among other factors, India has very little to export to

these non-Western nation-states. Moreover, India’s
proximity to the West and near-absolute reliance on
SWIFT make its banks incapable of circumventing
the sanctions against Iran and Russia.

China, on the other hand, has been able to navigate

these challenges with greater success despite facing
its own set of constraints and limitations. China’s
growing economic and military power has made it
an indispensable player in the global system, forcing
even its most ardent critics to engage with it on a
range of issues.

China’s strategic partnerships with countries such as

Russia and Iran have given it a degree of leverage
and autonomy that India can only dream of. China’s
ability to balance its relations with multiple powers
and shape the global agenda on climate change and
global governance has made it a formidable
challenger to the Western-led order.

However, China’s assertiveness and its attempts to

reshape the global order in its own image have also
sparked a growing backlash from the West and its
allies. The NATO and Five Eyes countries have
increasingly seen China as a strategic rival and have
sought to counter its in�uence through a range of
measures, including economic sanctions, diplomatic
pressure, and military posturing.

But even as China faces these challenges, it has been

able to maintain a degree of strategic clarity and
consistency that India has sorely lacked. China’s
propaganda machine may be just as relentless as
India’s, but it is backed up by a formidable economic
and military apparatus that commands respect and
fear in equal measure.

In contrast, India’s propaganda has been exposed as

a hollow sham, a self-serving narrative that has little
basis in reality. India's claims to be a “Vishwaguru”
(world teacher) and a “jagat janani” (mother of the
world) have been met with derision and scorn by the
international community, which sees through the
country’s grandiose rhetoric and recognizes its many
weaknesses and contradictions.

The Modi government’s use of propaganda as a tool

of foreign policy has not only failed to enhance
India’s global standing but has actually undermined
it. By peddling a vision of India that is at odds with
reality, the government has created a credibility gap
that will be di�cult to bridge in the years ahead.

As Narendra Modi embarks on his third term as

prime minister of India, the challenges and
opportunities in the realm of foreign policy are more
pronounced than ever. Despite the mixed results of
his previous strategies, there is a clear path forward
that can help India enhance its global standing and
address the complexities of the international arena
more e�ectively.

First and foremost, Modi’s government needs to

prioritize pragmatism over propaganda. The blurring
of lines between domestic political narratives and
foreign policy has led to signi�cant credibility issues.
India should adopt a more realistic and transparent
approach to international relations. This means
acknowledging its limitations and working
cooperatively with both Western and Eastern blocs
without overreliance on grandiose rhetoric.

India’s strategic autonomy should be re�ected in its

active participation in multilateral forums.
Strengthening ties within groups like the G-20, BRICS,
and the SCO can provide India with a platform to
in�uence global governance. Additionally, India
should continue mediating in international con�icts,
leveraging its unique position as a bridge between
the East and the West.

While maintaining its historical ties with Russia,

India’s foreign policy should also focus on deepening
partnerships with other key players like the United
States, European Union, Japan, and Australia. These
relationships, particularly within frameworks like
the Quad, can help counterbalance China’s growing
in�uence. However, this should be done without
alienating other important partners or
compromising India’s strategic autonomy.

India’s neighborhood policy requires a sensitive and

balanced approach. The rise of Hindutva rhetoric has
strained relationships with neighboring countries
like Nepal, Bangladesh, and the Maldives. To mitigate
these tensions, Modi’s government should focus on
building trust through economic cooperation and
cultural exchanges and address legitimate concerns
about sovereignty and territorial integrity.

Economic strength is the bedrock of any successful

foreign policy. Modi’s government should focus on
enhancing India’s economic diplomacy by fostering
trade relationships, attracting foreign investment,
and participating in global supply chains. Initiatives
like “Make in India” and “Digital India” should be
integrated into the broader foreign policy framework
to create mutually bene�cial economic ties.

The recent setbacks in intelligence sharing with the

NATO and Five Eyes alliances highlight the need for
India to improve its intelligence and security
cooperation. Building trust with these alliances will
require stringent measures to protect classi�ed
information and a more transparent approach to
India’s strategic objectives. Strengthening domestic
intelligence capabilities and fostering better
coordination with international partners can help
India become a more reliable security partner.

India’s rich cultural heritage, democratic values, and

contributions to global issues like climate change and
public health provide a solid foundation for soft
power diplomacy. However, while it is crucial to
highlight these strengths, the narrative should avoid
infantilizing India's image on the global stage.

Additionally, Modi must resist the temptation to

position himself as the omnipresent mascot of every
initiative and refrain from hyperbolic claims about
his superhuman capabilities. Such portrayals risk
undermining India’s credibility and invite ridicule
rather than respect.

Instead, India’s soft power should be promoted

through measured and digni�ed cultural exchanges,
educational collaborations, and humanitarian e�orts
that re�ect the nation's genuine strengths and
aspirations.

Lastly, a coherent and e�ective foreign policy

requires internal political cohesion and stability.
With his mandate signi�cantly reduced in 2024, Modi
needs to address domestic issues such as religious
polarization, economic inequality, and social justice.
Doing so will be crucial in providing a more stable
domestic foundation for his international
engagements.

By contrast, letting these issues fester will directly

undermine the moral high ground he and his
government have been seeking on the world stage.
The Author

is a New Delhi-based correspondent on South

Asian a�airs.
Japan Ministry of Defense

The expansion of security and defense

cooperation stands as the most
spectacular change in Japan’s contribution
to the region in recent years.
By

In July 2024, the 10th Paci�c Islands Leaders Meeting

(PALM) will be held in Tokyo. The PALM summits
have been bringing together Japan and the Paci�c
Island countries (PICs) on a triennial basis since
1997. On this occasion, Japan might propose a
security cooperation agreement to the countries of
the region. Indeed, the expansion of security and
defense cooperation stands as the most spectacular
change in Japan’s contribution to the region in recent
years.

The Paci�c territories hold signi�cant wealth in

�shery resources and raw materials, including
critical minerals. Their sea lanes are crucial for
Tokyo’s energy supplies, and their strategic
geographical location is vital amid China-U.S. rivalry.
Additionally, these territories play a key role in
realizing Japan’s vision for a Free and Open Indo-
Paci�c. These factors underscore Japan's strong
interests in the region and explain the rise in
strategic engagement.

As a major provider of O�cial Development

Assistance (ODA), Tokyo has developed innovative
tools to help strengthen the maritime surveillance
capabilities of the PICs, and more broadly, their
resilience to climatic and geopolitical risks. From its
low-pro�le beginning, focusing on non-traditional
challenges and led by civilian actors, security
cooperation has grown to be more visible, with the
increased participation of Japan’s Self-Defense Forces
(SDF) and in cooperation with like-minded partners
such as United States and Australia. As a result,
Tokyo has positioned itself as a security provider in
the Paci�c Islands, developing a multifaceted and
integrated approach.

Tokyo began providing aid to the Paci�c islands in

the 1970s, when the establishment of Exclusive
Economic Zones (EEZs) was under discussion and
Tokyo wanted to ensure access for its �shing vessels.
Today Japan is the region’s third-largest donor,
behind Australia and New Zealand.

In 1997, nine years before China, and at a time when

the United States and other major donors were
disengaging from the area, Tokyo set up a triennial
high-level forum to meet its Paci�c partners. The
PALM summit initiated a multilateral political
dialogue, initially bringing together 16 countries in
the region, and accompanied the expansion of
Japanese aid.

Japan’s security cooperation has therefore primarily

involved development aid and has focused on
strengthening the maritime surveillance and policing
capacities of Micronesian states, which are
historically and geographically closer to Japan. It has
been mostly implemented by civilian actors: the
Ministry of Foreign A�airs; the Japan Coast Guard
(JCG), which trains their Micronesian counterparts;
and also a private actor, the Sasakawa Peace
Foundation (SPF), which set up in 2009 an
“International Committee for the Establishment of a
Maritime Safety System in Micronesia.” This
mechanism has o�ered seminars on the law of the
sea and, since 2011, has provided small patrol boats
to the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM), the
Marshall Islands, and Palau.

By operating in this manner, Tokyo could meet the

expectations of Paci�c states seeking assistance in
monitoring their EEZs and combating illegal �shing.
At the same time, Japan could act with discretion to
secure approval from both Canberra and
Washington, who were previously the sole providers
of patrol boats for the PICs.

Security cooperation has gradually evolved to

include Japan’s Ministry of Defense, which launched
its own capacity-building program in 2012. Initially,
these activities were quite low pro�le and fell within
the scope of defense diplomacy and soft power. For
example, since 2015, the Ground Self-Defense Force
has been training the Papua New Guinea (PNG)
Defense Forces’ military band.

In 2018, Paci�c Island countries were incorporated

into Japan's vision for a Free and Open Indo-Paci�c,
and the PALM summits took on a greater strategic
dimension. Since then, and in addition to sustainable
development, which has always been a top priority
for Paci�c Islanders, the PALM summits’ �nal
declaration has made references to the security
situation in East Asia, the preservation of the rule of
law, freedom of navigation, and the need to enforce
United Nations’ sanctions against North Korea.

The same year, the PICs were mentioned for the �rst
time in Japan’s annual Defense of Japan report and
longer-term National Defense Program Guidelines,
which noted: “With island nations of the Paci�c
Ocean, Japan will promote port and airport visits by
SDF as well as exchanges and cooperation that utilize
capabilities and characteristics of each service of
SDF.”

In keeping with that goal, the 2021 edition of the

SDF’s annual Indo-Paci�c deployment (IPD) saw the
maritime destroyer JS Murasame make stopovers in
Papua New Guinea, Palau (where it delivered 75 judo
out�ts), and Vanuatu (where it conducted a passing
exercise).

The �rst Japan Paci�c Islands Defense Dialogue

(JPIDD), held in September 2021, sent a clear signal of
Tokyo’s determination to step up its game in this
area. It brought together, in virtual format due to the
pandemic, defense o�cials and representatives from
13 Paci�c Island countries, as well as Australia, New
Zealand, France, the United States, and Canada, to
promote port calls and exercises with the SDF in
maritime security and humanitarian assistance and
disaster relief operations (HADR). It was the �rst-
ever multilateral defense ministerial hosted by Japan
and took more than �ve years to come to fruition.

The growing Chinese presence in the Paci�c Islands

region and its deleterious side e�ects provided an
important backdrop to this initiative. Expensive
loans were granted by Beijing within the framework
of the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), sometimes
resulting in heavy debts for countries that could
compromise sovereignty. Among the PICs, Chinese
loans account for 55 percent of Tonga’s total external
debt and almost half of Vanuatu’s debt.

The extent of China’s ambitions in the region was

highlighted with two trips by President Xi Jinping in
2014 and 2018. The region’s political importance is
linked to Taiwan, a core security interest for Beijing.
Only 12 nations in the world still recognize Taiwan
as a sovereign state, with three located in the South
Paci�c (the Marshall Islands, Palau, and Tuvalu).
Beijing has persistently pressured Taipei’s allies,
leading the Solomon Islands and Kiribati to switch
recognition to China in 2019; Nauru followed suit in
February 2024.

The revelation, in March 2022, of a con�dential

security agreement between China and the Solomon
Islands, which could possibly allow the stationing of
Chinese naval vessels, came as a shock to Australia
and the wider Western world. In June 2022, Foreign
Minister Wang Yi visited seven Paci�c countries and
presented a �ve-year cooperation plan, including the
domains of security, policy, and defense, which was
ultimately rejected by the countries of the Paci�c
Islands Forum. These moves raised alarms and
prompted reactions from the United States, Australia,
and other like-minded countries.

The expansion of Japan’s defense cooperation re�ects

the 2022 surge of activities related to defense
diplomacy with the Paci�c that reacted to China’s
visible advance to the region. During the 2022 edition
of the IPD, the largest vessel in the Japanese �eet, the
aircraft carrier Izumo, called on Australia, Fiji, New
Caledonia, Palau, PNG, the Solomon Islands, Tonga,
and Vanuatu. The strategic signal was clear: Japan is
reinvesting in the area, including at the military
level, echoing China’s moves.

Beyond the China factor, the integration of the

climate factor into Japan’s security and defense
strategy was a major development with direct
implications for its cooperation with the Paci�c
states. The �rst “Climate Change Response Strategy”
published in 2022 by the Japanese Ministry of
Defense identi�ed the climate vulnerability of Paci�c
Island countries as an aggravating factor in internal
and interstate tensions, and a vector of
destabilization that could lead to an expansion of
China’s in�uence in the area. One of its priorities is
therefore to build capacity and share expertise with
these countries in order to improve their resilience.

Japan could build upon its previous contribution in

2018 to fund the Paci�c Climate Change Center
(PCCC), a regional research center located in Samoa
focusing on the impacts of climate change. Japan also
positioned itself as a HADR operation contributor: In
February 2022, Japan was the third fastest country to
dispatch its armed forces to bring humanitarian
assistance to Tonga after a violent underwater
volcano caused a tsunami that immensely damaged
the country. Japan is also helping to build the
capacity of PNG for the maintenance of heavy
engineering equipment, which plays an important
role in disaster relief operations.

At the ninth PALM summit in 2021, Tokyo set up an

“Inter-Ministerial Committee for the Promotion of
Cooperation with PICs” to strengthen inter-agency
coordination and the coherence of Japanese actions.
In particular, “the preservation of a free, open,
sustainable and law-based maritime order” was
identi�ed as a priority objective. The maritime
cooperation model Japan has applied to Southeast
Asia since the 2000s is being extended to the Paci�c;
new players and tools are being mobilized, and
practices are being integrated.

In 2023, one of the Japanese Coast Guard’s Mobile

Cooperation Teams (MCTs) was assigned to Paci�c
Island nations. By maintaining daily contact with aid
recipient countries, the MCTs strengthen their
understanding of local issues, and help train and
equip these countries’ maritime police, thereby
building trusting relationships.

In June 2023, the MCTs took part in the �rst

cooperation action for the bene�t of Kiribati’s
maritime law enforcement agencies, and engaged in
security-focused trainings in the Marshall Islands
and FSM in early 2024.

The MCTs were originally set up in 2017 to train and

equip Southeast Asian coast guards to cope with
Chinese expansion. Japan is thus clearly linking the
risks posed by China’s maritime expansion in the
South China Sea to the Paci�c Islands theater and
seeking to strengthen cooperation between ASEAN
and PICs, as highlighted by Defense Minister Kihara
Minoru at the second JPIDD in March 2024. He
recalled that in August 2023, Japan involved PICs for
the �rst time in its “Japan-ASEAN Ship Rider
Cooperation Program” aboard the JS Izumo, near
Australian waters.

Another innovative tool is O�cial Security Assistance

(OSA) introduced by the 2022 National Security
Strategy. Piloted by the Ministry of Foreign A�airs,
this program is designed to strengthen the resilience
of the armed forces of friendly countries, while
supporting Japan’s defense industry, since it often
involves the sale of military equipment on credit. The
initial priority recipient nations were the Philippines,
Bangladesh, Malaysia, and Fiji.
In the case of Fiji, Japan’s OSA works in tandem with
Australia’s capacity-building program: The Fiji navy
received Japanese patrol boats and small rescue
boats (worth $2.7 million) for use in training
exercises conducted by the Australian army.

The initial OSA budget of $14 million will increase to

$34 million by the end of 2024, and the program will
be extended to other countries, including PNG.

Japan’s integrated approach requires closer

coordination between the various institutional
players: the SDF and JCG are working together with
increasing frequency, as in the Marshall Islands in
May 2024 by equipping and training the local coast
guards. Similarly, implementation of OSA requires
close coordination between the National Security
Secretariat, which sets strategic priorities; the
Ministry of Defense, which oversees the production
and sale of military equipment; and the Ministry of
Foreign A�airs, which actually operates the aid
program and articulates it with ODA.

The Ministry of Internal A�airs and Communications

is also involved in cybersecurity capacity building
activities, a domain in which Japan has played a
pioneering role in Southeast Asia with the
establishment in 2018 of the ASEAN-Japan
Cybersecurity Capacity Building Center in Thailand.
In February 2024, Japan led its �rst cybersecurity
exercise with �ve Paci�c Island nations (Palau, the
FSM, the Marshall Islands, Nauru, and Kiribati, with
Fiji and Tonga as observers) and in cooperation with
the United States and Australia, with whom it is also
working on the region’s digital connectivity. This
e�ort goes hand in hand with Tokyo’s participation
to fund and set up undersea cables in the region.

Finally, the Japanese police, along with the SDF, is

expanding and diversifying its capacity-building
activities in the area, including for local police forces.
The National Police Agency is participating to the
JPIDD, along with the SDF and the Japan Coast Guard.
In January 2024, the Solomon Islands Police Force
received training to improve the management of
unexploded ordnance from the Paci�c War, which
still causes casualties. In terms of police cooperation,
the Japanese koban system is considered as being a
useful model for maintaining law and order in the
PICs.

Coordination with like-minded partners, especially

Australia, the region’s leading provider of
development and security assistance, is another
dimension of Japan’s integrated approach to the
Paci�c Islands.

The ultimate aim seems to be integrating the e�orts

of the various partners through minilateral
initiatives such as the Indo-Paci�c Maritime Domain
Awareness Partnership (IPMDA) set up by the Quad,
bringing together Japan, India, the United States, and
Australia in 2022. The four Quad foreign ministers
also signed the guidelines for a “Quad Partnership on
Humanitarian Assistance and Disaster Relief in the
Indo-Paci�c” in September 2022. The HADR
partnership was implemented for the �rst time in the
wake of the catastrophic landslide in Papua New
Guinea in late May 2024.

Japan is a founding member of the Partners in the

Blue Paci�c, a U.S. initiative also involving Australia,
Canada, Germany, New Zealand, and the U.K. to take
joint action in the PICs. One of the partnership’s �rst
regional initiatives was the Paci�c Cyber Capacity
Building and Coordination Conference held in Fiji in
October 2023.

Tokyo is also strengthening its cooperation with

French forces in the Paci�c. Since 2014, the SDF have
been a regular participant in the multinational HADR
exercises Croix du Sud and Marara led by France in
New Caledonia and French Polynesia, respectively.
These French territories have been included in the
PALM summit since 2021. Japanese participation in
the �rst seminar of the Paci�c Coast Guard Network
organized by France, the opening of a Japanese
consular o�ce in Nouméa, New Caledonia, in
January 2023, and the negotiation of a Reciprocal
Access Agreement for armed forces, announced in
May 2024, are elements that point to stronger ties in
the area.

The Japan Paci�c Islands Defense Dialogue, which

held its second edition in March 2024 in Tokyo,
rea�rms Japan’s integrated approach to security
cooperation. Japan has shown willingness to
coordinate the JPIDD with the PALM summit and the
South Paci�c Defense Ministers’ Meeting (SPDMM).
The SPDMM stands as the sole multilateral forum
bringing together defense ministers from the
extended South Paci�c – Australia, Chile, Fiji, France,
New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, and Tonga – to
discuss and better coordinate on climate change and
its impacts, maritime security, and the training of
armed forces for HADR. Japan, along with the United
States and United Kingdom, has been an observer
country since 2022, and is now applying to become a
full-�edged member.

Finally, it should be noted that Japan’s security

cooperation is also channeled through multilateral
organizations. In May 2023, for example, Tokyo and
the United Nations O�ce on Drugs and Crime
(UNODC) signed a funding agreement worth $6
million to counter maritime crime (illegal �shing as
well as drug tra�cking) in nine PICs, through the
upgrade of maritime law enforcement infrastructure
as well as the strengthening of maritime law
enforcement and criminal justice institutions. Under
the agreement, four inshore patrol crafts will be
delivered to the maritime police of Kiribati, Nauru,
Tuvalu, and Vanuatu, and X-band radar stations will
be installed on land to improve maritime
surveillance capability.

Despite the growing strength of Japanese security

and defense cooperation in the region, which is now
truly multidimensional, several limitations and
challenges endure.

Tokyo’s ability to in�uence the Paci�c Islands and in

particular to counterbalance China remains to be
seen. The people of Oceania are concerned by major
geopolitical projects and are careful not to create
enemies. Only �ve out of the 12 Paci�c nations (Fiji,
the Marshall Islands, the Federated States of
Micronesia, Palau, and Papua New Guinea) have
openly endorsed the Free and Open Indo-Paci�c
slogan, which originated with Japan. In contrast to
ASEAN, the PICs have demonstrated no intention of
developing their own Indo-Paci�c strategic
framework or integrating the concept into their
individual national policies.

The PICs, in all of their o�cial documents, describe

climate change as the existential threat to their
security and wish to stay away from the geopolitical
competition between the United States and China. So
while the geostrategic competition with China
provides the backdrop of Japan’s growing security
cooperation, Tokyo is careful not to frame its
activities in this way. Mindful of the sensibilities of
PICs that are reluctant to take sides, Tokyo
underlines the centrality of the Paci�c Islands Forum
(PIF), building up the sovereignty and resilience of
the Paci�c countries, and defending the rule of law.
When working with the PICs, Japan usually refers to
a free, open, and stable “sea” rather than “Indo-
Paci�c” – a more loaded term that has been rejected
by China.

It should be also noted that some enduring irritants

in the relations may a�ect Japan’s expanded security
cooperation with the Paci�c Island countries. In
particular, the issue of nuclear waste, especially after
the 2011 Fukushima nuclear disaster triggered by the
Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, remains sensitive.
The PICs have consistently voiced their concerns
about Japan’s discharge into the ocean of wastewater
from the damaged Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power
plant, calling for greater transparency and
communication from the Japanese authorities. This
question will be on the agenda for the upcoming
PALM 10 summit.

Finally, the resources that Tokyo can dedicate to the

region are limited. Japan’s security e�orts must and
will focus on the archipelagic state’s immediate
environment, where tensions are on the rise. Tokyo
must therefore work with its partners as much as
possible, and develop long-term bonds of trust with
the PICs. The forthcoming arrival at the Japanese
National Defense Academy of o�cer cadets from Fiji,
Tonga, and Papua New Guinea should help to achieve
this.

The Author

is a research fellow and head of Japan Research at the

French Institute of International Relations (IFRI), where she is also the
coordinator of the Program on Paci�c Islands, Center for Asian
Studies. Céline is a senior researcher with the Japan Chair at Vrije
Universiteit Brussels (VUB) and an International Research Fellow with
the Canon Institute for Global Studies (CIGS) in Tokyo.
Russian Defense Ministry Press Service via AP, Vadim Savitsky

China and Russia have pushed the

Shanghai Cooperation Organization
beyond its original mission, at the expense
of practical regional collaboration.
By

Belarus’ upcoming admission to the Shanghai

Cooperation Organization (SCO) shows that the once
purely regional grouping – originally encompassing
China, Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan,
and Uzbekistan – is steadily expanding its geographic
and geopolitical reach. After India and Pakistan in
2017 and Iran in 2023, Belarus will be the �rst
exclusively European country to join. What began as
a purely Central Asian forum focused on regional
security cooperation will have become an
increasingly diverse 10-member club with
broadening global ambitions.

The SCO’s shifting focus aligns most obviously with

China and Russia’s evolving interests in the
organization. As founding members, they were the
driving forces in creating a platform for increased
regional security and economic cooperation, and 23
years later they are willing to sacri�ce that role to
increase the SCO’s international weight. The group’s
members comprise roughly 25 percent of the world’s
economic output and half of its population, making it
an ever more tempting tool for Moscow and Beijing’s
geopolitical ambitions.

While Russia’s interest in the Chinese-initiated

organization was initially lukewarm, Moscow began
to take the SCO more seriously following its
annexation of Crimea in 2014 and ensuing Western
sanctions. Since starting its full-scale war against
Ukraine in 2022, Moscow has had to seek partners
outside of Europe even more intensively. The
Kremlin now sees the SCO as a useful forum for
gathering support and countering Western claims of
its international isolation, and as a result has
adopted a “the more, the merrier” approach to
membership.

China initially pushed for closer economic ties

alongside security, cultural and “humanitarian”
collaboration among the members of the SCO. But
proposals such as a free-trade area and an SCO
development bank were rejected by Russia and other
members. By the mid-2010s, Beijing was using
settings like the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) and the
China-Central Asia summit to promote closer
economic cooperation with its neighbors in the
region. As recently as May this year, China
announced a separate mechanism for China-Central
Asia emergency management cooperation, despite
this task falling directly into the SCO’s purview.

In parallel, since the 2010s, China has consolidated its

position as a major power in the international
system, giving the SCO a symbolic value that far
outweighs its practical e�ectiveness. Beijing uses the
forum to showcase its ability to o�er alternatives to
existing U.S.-led institutions and to present itself as
the champion of the Global South. These two goals
make enlargement of the organization to include
more countries beyond Central Asia nothing but
bene�cial – even if this means further undermining
the SCO’s regional e�ectiveness.

Russia and China’s shifting geopolitical ambitions

provided the context for the SCO’s �rst expansion. By
embracing the South Asian heavyweights India and
Pakistan in 2017, the organization bet on increasing
its visibility on the world stage, while accepting the
risk that decades of India-Pakistan tensions could
weaken its core security cooperation mandate.

While the SCO had o�ered other states the

opportunity to cooperate loosely as observers since
2004 and as dialogue partners since 2009, Beijing in
particular had been reluctant to extend the circle of
full members in the organization’s early years. A
major argument against expansion had always been
the need to �rst strengthen cohesion and �nd a
“common identity” among the six founding members
before adding new states and making the
organization even more diverse.

Allowing India and Pakistan to join was also

controversial given the SCO’s focus on �ghting what
it calls the “three evils” of terrorism, extremism, and
separatism. Even some Chinese experts worried that
both South Asian countries’ habits of regularly
blaming their neighbor for terrorist acts within their
own borders would make it increasingly di�cult for
SCO members to reach a consensus on how to
combat such threats.

Hopes that the SCO could help ease bilateral tensions

were realistically low from the beginning and fears
about India-Pakistan tensions a�ecting SCO activities
have materialized to an extent – for instance, a
dispute with India over depictions on a map resulted
in Pakistan staying away from an SCO seminar in
New Delhi in 2023. Although the SCO sees itself as a
forum for improving regional security, it insists that
member states keep their bilateral con�icts outside
the organization. And even the founding members
have been reluctant to use the SCO as a platform to
resolve bilateral tensions, such as water disputes
between Tajikistan and Uzbekistan and border
clashes between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.

Regardless of these obvious �aws, the �rst SCO

expansion promised a major upside. It would bring
the organization more legitimacy, especially by
adding two major regional powers that were also
nuclear states. On top of that, accepting India as the
�rst undeniably democratic member country helped
counter the common Western portrayal of the SCO as
a “dictators’ club.” The �rst round of expansion also
incidentally saw the organization become the largest
regional organization worldwide, both in terms of
geographic reach and population represented.

Compared to the accession of India and Pakistan,

inviting Iran to join the regional security
organization in July 2023 made more logical sense in
terms of organizational e�ectiveness. With Tehran as
concerned as other SCO members about drug
tra�cking and political instability in Afghanistan,
Iran is a natural choice to help prevent spillover
from its neighbor. The country has ample experience
�ghting the so-called three evils domestically, which
it can now share through the SCO’s Regional Anti-
Terrorist Structure. On top of this, Iran’s membership
can help boost SCO trade links, especially through the
Indian-operated port of Chabahar on the Gulf of
Oman.

But by including Iran and thereby expanding into

West Asia, the SCO blurred its regional focus even
more and damaged any international legitimacy it
had gained by admitting India. After gaining
observer status in 2005, Iran was the associate state
most eager to make the SCO more explicitly “anti-
Western.” In 2011, Iran’s then-President Mahmoud
Ahmadinejad campaigned for the SCO “to form a
united front against the West,” referring to Western
countries as “enslavers, colonialists, [and] invaders.”
This was one reason why several SCO members long
refused to consider Iran’s 2008 application for full
membership. But somewhere along the way their
priorities shifted – after 2017, even Beijing saw more
advantages than disadvantages in admitting the
country.

The shift came at the same time Moscow and Beijing

were individually forging closer ties with Tehran.
Both Russia and China joined Iran, the United States,
and Europe in signing the 2015 Joint Comprehensive
Plan of Action (JCPOA), under which Iran agreed to
limits on its nuclear program in exchange for relief
from international sanctions. The deal removed a
key hurdle to Iran’s SCO membership, as it no longer
violated the organization’s rule that countries cannot
join if they are under U.N. sanctions. When then-U.S.
President Donald Trump unilaterally withdrew from
the JCPOA in 2018, China, Russia, and Iran saw this as
con�rmation of the United States’ unreliability.
Shared antagonism toward the U.S. brought China,
Russia, and Iran closer together in the years that
followed – and in late 2021 Beijing and Moscow
proved instrumental in initiating the process to
admit Iran to the SCO. More than anything, Iran’s
accession in 2023 increased the geopolitical weight of
the organization and solidi�ed the China-Russia-Iran
partnership. The addition of Tehran was a clear
message to the United States and its allies that the
SCO no longer cared about whether the West saw the
organization as friend or foe.

The accession of Belarus at the SCO summit in

Astana, Kazakhstan, on July 3-4 seals the SCO’s
transformation from a focused group of Central
Asian states intent on improving the regional
security situation into a geopolitical bloc at the
center of a hardening global confrontation between
the U.S. and its allies on one hand and China, Russia,
and the partners they are collecting on the other. As
the �rst entirely European country to join, Belarus
expands the SCO’s reach beyond Central, South, and
West Asia; adds an important ally of Russia and a
“strategic partner” of China; and reinforces the SCO’s
strategy of building a counterbalance to Western
organizations and alliances.

Belarus was one of the �rst two countries to attain

the a�liate status of dialogue partner in 2009, and it
was granted observer status in 2015. The country is a
member of the Collective Security Treaty
Organization (CSTO) and the Commonwealth of
Independent States (CIS), Russian-led groupings of
largely contiguous, post-Soviet countries. However,
SCO membership was initially regarded as a stretch –
even Russia initially argued that Minsk was too far
from the SCO’s regional core. But its change of heart
speaks to Moscow’s evolving ambitions.
After Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, the SCO
invited Belarus to apply for full membership. In
Russia’s and China’s increasingly heated rivalry with
the United States and its allies, SCO enlargement no
longer seems to serve the e�ectiveness of the
organization as a regional forum, but rather to
assemble a bloc of countries favorable to Russia and
China in their campaign to establish a global order
not dominated by the West.

At the same time, Minsk’s interests in the SCO may go

beyond geostrategic ambitions. For Belarus, trade
with SCO countries is a welcome alternative to
economic ties to Europe, given EU sanctions against
Belarus for supporting Russian aggression against
Ukraine. Belarus has enjoyed close economic
relations to several SCO countries for some time. It
was one of the �rst countries to join China’s BRI in
2014, a particularly useful move for China given its
proximity to the EU and membership in the Eurasian
Economic Union. But given its modest size and weak
economy, Belarus stands to gain much more
economically from SCO membership than the other
members will gain from their new partner.

From the SCO’s point of view, Belarus adds nothing in

practical terms to the organization’s legitimacy, like
India had, and does little to bolster regional security
and the �ght against the “three evils,” capacities that
Iran has brought into the club. The admission of
Russia’s closest ally is largely symbolic, but in an
important way: It fully commits the SCO to its role as
a multilateral representation of the “new
international order” championed by China and
Russia.

The SCO’s next steps will be a measure of its future

direction and role. Will it now focus on consolidating
relations among its existing members – close
partners of China and Russia who endorse the two
countries’ vision of a “multipolar world order,” but
are also interested in reaping the fruits of economic
collaboration? Or will expansion become the new
normal, as the SCO gathers as many countries as
possible to establish itself as the voice of the Global
South – albeit at the expense of practical security
cooperation?

At the moment, the SCO appears to be on its way to

becoming an international – rather than regional –
organization that encompasses many more states
than its original regional focus envisaged. The
organization’s dialogue partners currently include,
among others, Bahrain, Cambodia, Egypt, Kuwait, the
Maldives, Nepal, and Qatar – not exactly Central
Asian countries with similar security or economic
challenges. It remains to be seen whether these states
will be able to upgrade their status or only remain
loosely tied to the SCO. If expansion continues, the
organization may shift from tangible regional
security cooperation to addressing more abstract
global political and economic issues.

But SCO decisions require the consensus of all

members. This suggests that the organization won’t
rush to add more countries, especially ones with
which existing members have strained relations. For
example, Iran would likely have qualms about
admitting Saudi Arabia or the United Arab Emirates
and veto their accession just like Tajikistan had for
many years opposed Iran’s full membership.

Although China and Russia are the SCO’s most

powerful members, smaller states have always
in�uenced its development. Even as the SCO
contributes to the divide between the United States
and its allies on one side and China, Russia, and
partners on the other, many Central Asian states have
no interest in being drawn into any one camp. Some
members such as Kazakhstan have refused to openly
support Russia’s war against Ukraine, and the
country known for its “multi-vector foreign policy”
will be reluctant to turn the SCO into a designated
“anti-Western” club. Rather, several member
countries continue to see the SCO as a grouping
aimed at helping to solve regional issues.

Enlargement has raised the SCO’s pro�le and put it in

a bind – international visibility comes hand in hand
with a loss of regional relevance. If it continues to
strengthen its role as a geopolitical bloc bringing
together key Chinese and Russian political partners,
the SCO will most likely continue to weaken its
e�orts to forge practical cooperation among
neighboring states. This may encourage members to
seek other formats for tangible regional cooperation.

For example, SCO founding members Kazakhstan,

Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan attended the
�rst China-Central Asia summit in 2023, with
Turkmenistan also joining, and their leaders have
attended �ve Central Asia-only summits from 2018 to
2023. Turkmenistan, which holds to what it deems a
“positive neutrality” policy is not a member of the
SCO, and only occasionally attends its summits as a
guest; but Ashgabat has engaged fully with the
Central Asia consultative leaders’ meetings since
2019, even hosting the 2021 meeting.

The SCO could bene�t from building cohesion among

current members before expanding again.

The SCO’s current transition phase presents an

opportunity for the EU to raise its engagement with
Central Asia. Diplomatic and economic ties have
grown in recent years – the EU accounts for 42
percent of cumulative foreign direct investment in
the region – and Europe should use this position to
o�er more reliable and attractive partnerships than
those o�ered through the SCO. While doing so, it
shouldn’t expect Central Asian countries to fully
move away from their close political, security, and
economic partners Russia and China – and it should
also continue pressing Central Asian states to stop
helping Moscow circumvent European export
restrictions, including by re-exporting dual-use goods
to Russia. At the same time, however, Brussels should
take advantage of the fact that both Europe and
Central Asia are currently hoping to diversify their
international relations away from overreliance on
Russia and China.

Kazakhstan, the EU’s main Central Asian partner, for

instance, wants to diversify its oil export routes,
which is clearly of interest to the EU. Astana and
Brussels have already signed a memorandum of
understanding about raw material, battery, and
renewable hydrogen partnerships, in line with
Brussels’ strategy to diversify its supply of critical
raw materials such as lithium. Other areas for close
cooperation with countries in the region include
water, energy, and responses to climate change. On
top of this, as Kazakh scholar Zhanibek Arynov has
noted, the EU could establish a European university
in Central Asia to connect with the young people of
the region.

If we think, for example, of the vague and non-

transparent “SCO university” framework or the very
apparent lack of initiatives on water management
within the SCO format, it becomes clear that the EU
could present itself as a (more) reliable partner to
Central Asia, and o�er more attractive partnerships
than through the SCO. Of course, all this will be done
on a much smaller scale, considering the SCO is a
full-�edged regional organization and the EU’s
engagement with di�erent Central Asian countries
remains limited. However, considering the countries’
interest in diversi�ed relations, the EU could easily
take some – initially small – steps in the right
direction.

As the SCO expands for the third time, it faces the

challenge of maintaining its regional e�ectiveness
while increasing its international in�uence. This
presents strategic opportunities for the EU to engage
more deeply with Central Asia and provide an
alternative to the SCO’s China-Russia dominated
framework increasingly presented as an alternative
to Western organizations.

The Author

is an analyst and project coordinator at the Mercator

Institute for China Studies (MERICS) in Berlin, Germany. Her research
focuses on China’s foreign and security policy, with a special interest
in China-Russia relations, China-Central Asia relations, and China’s
behavior in international organizations.
Depositphotos

Under Xi, China’s economic approach “has

been and is likely to be state-led
innovation and development.”
By

From July 15-18, the 20th Central Committee of the

Chinese Communist Party – the top governing body
of China’s ruling party – will convene for its much-
anticipated “third plenum.” Since the beginning of
the reform and opening era, each Central
Committee’s third plenum has long set the policy
direction for China’s economy. However, this
iteration will happen far behind the usual schedule.
Traditionally, the third plenum convenes a year after
the CCP's National Party Congress, last held in
October 2022. Accordingly, the third plenum was
expected in October or November of 2023. Instead, it
was delayed until July 2024.

The nine-month gap between the expected timing

and the actual convening of the plenum sparked
much speculation about debate and disagreement
regarding economic policy occurring within the
black box of the CCP. To help set the scene, The
Diplomat’s Shannon Tiezzi interviewed Sara Hsu, an
associate professor at the University of Tennessee,
Knoxville, and an expert on China’s supply chains,
�ntech, and economic development, about China’s
economic trajectory since the 20th National Party
Congress in the fall of 2022.

Hsu explained that China’s economy faces two

equally daunting challenges: internal structural
issues and a hostile external environment. “China’s
ongoing government-backed economic policy is
viewed by the United States in particular as a threat
to national security,” she said. “...This is at least as
much of a barrier to growth as China’s internal
issues.”

Not only are there structural de�cits in China’s

economy that need to be addressed, but there is an
economic ideological clash with the West that will
prevent China’s government-led growth path from
reaching success.

The structural de�cits are related to China’s growth

slowdown in the real estate sector, aging population,
excessive local government debt, and youth
unemployment. These issues have been discussed
and in the making for years. However, it is China’s
overall economic strategy that re�ects a contrasting
stance with the West.

A major issue is that just as China is promoting areas

such as electric vehicles, lithium batteries, and solar
cells, the West sees China’s government support for
these industries as a threat and has increased tari�s
accordingly. China’s ongoing government-backed
economic policy is viewed by the United States in
particular as a threat to national security, as many of
China’s recent policy measures have backed
innovative industries. This has led to major
improvements in technology as well as in
overcapacity in some areas.

The U.S. is concerned that China will �ood the U.S.

market with innovative products that may present a
security risk. This is at least as much of a barrier to
growth as China’s internal issues.

China may respond with tari�s of its own, although

in recent years it has refrained from imposing tari�s
that are equally high. China has doubled down on its
economic strategy of state-led growth, which has
been the main focus for decades. As it was only in the
run-up to the U.S.-China trade war that the U.S. began
to fear China's government-led strategy, the
American response to China's economic ideology is a
more recent development.

This is to say that I believe China will continue on its

current trajectory and continue to view the response
of its trading partners as hostile. Unfortunately, the
con�icting perspectives will prevent China from
growing more signi�cantly in the areas it hopes to
promote.

“AI Plus” is another buzzword. The idea is to

integrate AI into business in order to promote
innovation. The hope is that this will become another
source of economic growth. This is related to China’s
desire to grow its digital economy.

It is reminiscent of China’s “Internet Plus” strategy,

which sought to increase connectivity among
industries and geographies. Both AI and the internet
are considered productivity boosters that can spur
economic growth.

Again, however, AI is another area of strategic

competition with the U.S., and China's endeavors in
AI are considered one of the biggest threats to U.S.
national security.

China began to expand its private sector just before

accession to the WTO, but since Xi Jinping was
ushered into o�ce, the emphasis has been on state
enterprise �rst. Private enterprises have found their
way forward by associating with the government.
Attempting to go it alone has proven di�cult,
especially during crackdowns on private sector
industries such as technology and tutoring.
Government favoritism of the state sector has also
reduced investment in the private sector due to
increased risk perception.
Some of the policy promises have been ful�lled,
while other areas, such as an expanded role for the
market, have not. China did promote mixed
ownership of SOEs [state-owned enterprises] to
access private capital and expanded the Silk Road to
strengthen economic relationships with its
neighbors.

We can likely expect more of the same from the third

plenum of the 20th Central Committee, not major
market-oriented reform. We will continue to see an
emphasis on new technologies and on development
of particular regions. The government is still
concerned about stability, as it should be, so
continuing to stabilize the housing market and other
areas is essential. The approach has been and is
likely to be state-led innovation and development.

Will it be e�ective in promoting economic growth?

Probably as e�ective as it has been in recent years,
which is not very much. It is not an approach that is
a strong complement to the changing views of
China’s Western trading partners and is even often in
con�ict with them.

The state-led approach will also not provide as strong

a source of growth as a private-led approach would.
It has been shown across numerous scholarly studies
of China that private sector economic growth is
faster and more e�cient. Unfortunately, promoting
the private sector is probably not in the works.

This is a shame, because China is struggling with

many headwinds, such as a real estate crisis, vestiges
of the zero COVID policy, Western economic
opposition, and youth unemployment. The country
needs better sources of growth to fully get through
the transformation to a higher value added, higher
income economy.

The Author

is Editor-in-Chief of The Diplomat.

Flickr, The International Institute for Strategic Studies

Recent speeches by China’s defense and

foreign ministers provide new context on
the Global Security Initiative.
By

Two speeches by two Chinese ministers in June

helped �esh out China’s vision for an alternative
security order. The �rst was Defense Minister Dong
Jun’s address to the Shangri-La Dialogue in Singapore
on June 2; the second was Foreign Minister Wang Yi’s
remarks at the at the BRICS Foreign Ministers'
Dialogue with Developing Countries (the BRICS Plus)
in Russia on June 11.
Dong, speaking at a security-centered forum, was
expected to outline China’s thoughts on a global
security order, but Wang’s statements on the topics at
the BRICS Plus – nominally an economic-centered
grouping – were more surprising.

One takeaway from both speeches is the convergence

of several of Beijing’s favorite catchphrases – one of
which is also beloved by Russia. Both Dong and
Wang, of course, mentioned the “Global Security
Initiative” proposed by Chinese President Xi Jinping,
which as yet has little to no actual substance.

In their explanations, both ministers also referenced

some older slogans that are more established and
thus easier to parse: the “community with a shared
future” mantra that Xi popularized during his “new
era,” and the even older “Five Principles of Peaceful
Co-existence,” which date from Cold War-era China.
We might consider the Five Principles, long a
mainstay of Chinese foreign policy, to be a blueprint
for achieving a “community with a shared future.”
(The Five Principles are respect for territorial
integrity and sovereignty; non-aggression; non-
interference in internal a�airs; equality and
cooperation for mutual bene�t; and peaceful
coexistence.)

A third, and newer, phrase that was repeated in both

speeches was China’s spin on the post-Cold War
concept of “indivisible security,” which Russia used
to justify its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in
February 2022. In China’s diplomatic parlance, the
term is “common” or “universal security,” but both
convey the same point: military alliances or blocs
that build up security at the expense of another
country are ultimately counterproductive.

Dong and Wang put a new spin on the phrase by

expanding the list of preceding adjectives: “China
champions a vision of common, comprehensive,
cooperative and sustainable security.” Wang
expanded on that vision by saying, “We must abide
by the principle of indivisibility of security, respect
the sovereignty and territorial integrity of all
countries, and take care of each other’s legitimate
and reasonable concerns.”

A lot is riding on the terms “legitimate” and

“reasonable,” which are very much in the eye of the
beholder.

This has always been the issue with “indivisible

security”: Most governments show very little
inclination to actually practice what has been called
“strategic empathy” and take their rivals’ security
concerns at face value. China itself is as guilty of this
as any country.

Dong argued that “the security interests of all

countries should be upheld and their legitimate
concerns addressed” – but later insisted that China’s
“core interests are sacred and inviolable.” Dong
made it very clear, for instance, that Beijing sees
Manila’s complaints about Chinese aggression in the
South China Sea as “false narratives” meant to
“mislead the public,” not “legitimate concerns” that
must be “addressed.”

With that in mind, China’s insistence on “common

security” seems to be an attempt to claim the moral
high ground in its opposition to U.S. security
alliances.

This network of alliances is the status quo for the

global security order. Dong stressed the need for an
alternative, “a framework of regional security
cooperation that is open, transparent and based on
equality, one that features equal participation,
friendly exchanges and is free from bloc
confrontation.”

It’s hard to object to the sentiment, but again the

devil is in the details. What would that actually look
like in practice?

First and foremost, Dong implicitly reiterated the

“Asia for Asians” framework that China has heavily
promoted – essentially a bid to exclude the United
States from participating in Asia’s security
architecture. Dong repeatedly painted “people in the
Asia-Paci�c” with a broad brush, claiming to speak
for the entire region – which includes over half of
Earth’s population and is famously heterogenous.

This reductivist appeal to “unique Asian wisdom”

serves Beijing’s purpose of trying to shut out non-
Asian powers – which would have the e�ect of
granting China, the Asia-Paci�c’s largest and most
powerful state, default hegemony over the region.

“People in the Asia-Paci�c are independent and self-

reliant,” Dong declared. “... [O]ur people are against
any attempt to turn our countries into vassal states
or draw us into bloc confrontations.” Regional
countries should thus keep “their security �rmly in
their own hands.”

The governments of states that have actively sought

increased defense cooperation with the United States
would probably disagree with Dong.

There is some irony to the fact that China’s vision for

Asia-Paci�c security is highly exclusive – only Asian
countries need apply – but Dong pledged to advance
China’s security involvement in other regions of the
world. Dong said China planned to build up its
multilateral defense dialogues, including the “the
Xiangshan Forum, China-Africa Peace and Security
Forum, the Middle East Security Forum, and the
China–Latin America and the Caribbean States
Defense Forum.”

It’s unclear to what extent these talk shops actually

contribute to global security, however. China’s
security contributions in Africa are the most
developed, with a sizable peacekeeping presence,
provision of arms and training to soldiers and police
forces, and regular participation in anti-piracy
patrols focused on Somalia (which, in turn, provided
the rationale for China’s �rst overseas military base
in Djibouti). But these were all outcomes of other
platforms, from United Nations Peacekeeping
Operations to China’s bilateral e�orts. The China-
Africa Peace and Security Forum itself has few
practical achievements to showcase, much less the
newer platforms in the Middle East and Latin
America.

More concretely, Dong said China intends to “deepen

and expand” its military cooperation with bilateral
partners “on joint exercises and training, equipment
and technology, and logistic support.” With “new
cooperation partners, we are ready to start with
areas such as military culture, disaster relief and
medical service, and advance our cooperation with
them step by step,” the minister said.

Dong described this as “open and substantive

defense cooperation,” but it’s essentially the same
bilateral model of defense diplomacy pursued by the
United States – to which China has vociferously
objected.

Underneath Chinese o�cials’ descriptions of China’s

preferred new security order, there is always a
tension between ideal and reality. The lofty rhetoric
of dialogue triumphing over con�ict has, sadly,
proven to be impractical time and time again. And
while China has talked a big game on con�ict
mediation, its track record is still sparse.

China says it wants an “equal and orderly multipolar

world” without “bloc confrontation.” The big
question is whether that is even possible. History
suggests not.
The Author

is Editor-in-Chief of The Diplomat.

Associated Press, Andy Wong

From bolstering tech ambitions to

propping up the property market, China’s
leaders have no shortage of urgent
priorities to pursue.
By

On April 30, China announced that it will host the

third plenary session of the 20th Central Committee
in July. The main theme will be “comprehensively
deepening reform and advancing Chinese
modernization.”

This meeting of the top governing body of the

Chinese Communist Party is important, because it
provides a plan and the big economic picture for the
duration of the Central Committee’s �ve-year term,
which began in fall 2022.

The third plenum traditionally has a focus on

economic plans and gives grand strategy for the next
�ve years. This time, the third plenum had been
delayed for months, suggesting that Xi Jinping’s top
leadership circle had encountered di�culties in
formulating a good economic plan amid
uncertainties.

Ahead of the third plenary session, top Communist

Party leaders have been touring the countries to
understand the economic situation. According to
ThinkChina’s report, Premier Li Qiang, the second-
ranked leader, visited Xinjiang and Anhui and
stressed the importance of the Belt and Road
Initiative. Zhao Leji, the third-ranked leader, went to
Henan; Wang Huning, chair of the Chinese People’s
Political Consultative Conference and another
important Politburo Standing Committee (PSC)
member visited Guangxi. Vice Premier member Ding
Xuexiang visited Liaoning with a focus on
technology; Li Xi, secretary of the Central
Commission for Discipline and Inspection, went to
Jiangsu. Both Ding and Li are also on the PSC.

Clearly, the Politburo has all hands on deck for the

upcoming plenum. Although on-site visitations are a
convention ahead of plenary sessions, central-local
relations remains one potential item on the agenda.

Moving forward, we are likely going to see the

promotion of “new quality productive forces,” which
is the latest buzzword to capture Xi’s goal to upskill
China’s economic production. The new term, coined
in early 2024, involves “high technology, high
e�ciency, and high quality.” According to the o�cial
account, targeted sectors include the green
transition, innovation and operation model,
intelligent and digital production.

China Energy Engineering Corporation Limited has

been featured by state media as an exemplar in “new
quality productive forces.” The company has
invested nearly 13 billion yuan in R&D in the power
grid, new energy, and other innovative �elds. The
company also signed contracts worth more than 500
billion yuan with BRI partners. Ful�lling more BRI
contracts to overcome overproduction problems is
likely continuing to be promoted in the third plenum.

Another emphasis is likely going to be the further

integration and development of the Yangtze Delta
River region, including Shanghai, Jiangsu, Zhejiang,
and Anhui. In 2023, the region produced 30 trillion
yuan or 24.2 percent of China’s GDP. While Shanghai
is known to be the economic powerhouse and the
biggest �nancial center in China, the three provinces
are home to eight other cities with GDPs exceeding a
trillion yuan, known as the “trillion club,” including
Suzhou, Hangzhou, Nanjing, Ningbo, Wuxi, Hefei,
Nantong, and Changzhou.

Anhui province is home to multiple large innovative

companies, including BOE Technology, Changxin
Memory Technologies, and NIO, which are industry
leaders in semiconductors and electric vehicles.
Anhui is also home to the “quantum avenue” of
China; Hefei Construction Investment Group, Hefei
Industry Investment Group, and Xingtai Holdings
together contributed greatly to an industrial cluster.
Now known as originator of the “Anhui model” in
China, the province produced �ve new companies
every day in 2022, heavily clustered around
semiconductors, AI, smart home appliances, and
electric vehicles.

China’s economic policymakers will likely also give

some remarks on revitalizing the real estate sector,
given that the sharp decline of the Chinese economy
was triggered by the implosion of the sector
exempli�ed by Evergrande, China’s largest real estate
developer.

The plenary session is also seen as an opportunity for

Chinese leaders to reestablish con�dence among
private capital. It is likely only a part of the rhetoric
will seem convincing, despite the booming advanced
manufacturing sector in China. The IMF observed
that China’s economy has taken longer than expected
time to bounce back, and suggested China’s priority
should be to “further stimulate housing demand and
help restore market balance.”

The IMF estimates that Chinese GDP growth will fall

to 3.3 percent by 2029 due to China’s aging
population and low birthrate. But it also adjusted
China’s 2024 and 2025 GDP forecast to 5 percent and
4.5 percent, up by 0.4 points compared to another
estimate made in April.

The plenary might be a critical juncture for the

nation’s economic and strategic planning. There is
much anticipation regarding how China will navigate
these challenges within the framework of its planned
economy.

The Author

is a Canada-based analyst researching China’s role in

international relations.
Depositphotos

Led by “King” Fu Kun-chi, Hualien County

has become a nexus for political and
economic connections with the PRC.
By and

On May 23, the Bluebird Movement drew over

100,000 participants to a rally outside Taiwan's
Legislative Yuan. The demonstrators were protesting
against a series of disputed “parliamentary reform
bills” proposed – and eventually passed – by the
Kuomintang (KMT) and the Taiwan People's Party
(TPP).

The protesters speci�cally targeted two �gures:

Huang Kuo-chang, the TPP's caucus whip and a
former key �gure in the Sun�ower Movement who
has since aligned with the KMT, and Fu Kun-chi, the
KMT's caucus whip. From the perspective of local
policies shaping Taiwan’s dependency on China, Fu is
the more important �gure.

Fu, a major political player in Hualien County on

Taiwan’s east coast, has been perceived as a
signi�cant proxy for the People’s Republic of China
(PRC) in Taiwan. He served two terms as a Hualien
County legislator, elected �rst as an independent, and
then as a member of the KMT. Even after being
expelled from the KMT, he successfully ran for
Hualien County magistrate and held the position for
eight consecutive years.

Although he was found guilty on charges of stock

manipulation in 2008 and disquali�ed from holding
civic o�ce (a restriction eventually overturned by
the Supreme Court), his in�uence in Hualien
remained strong. During his imprisonment, which
began in 2018 after a lengthy appeals process ran its
course, he supported his wife, Hsu Chen-wei, in
successfully running for county magistrate. She won
re-election in 2022.

Together, Fu and Hsu have dominated Hualien's

political landscape for over 14 years, making them
one of Taiwan's most enduring political families of
this century.

After his release from prison in 2019, Fu was

reinstated in the KMT and re-elected as a legislator in
2020. He became a core �gure within the party. This
January, after the KMT regained its position as the
largest party in the Legislative Yuan, Fu took on the
role of KMT’s caucus whip.

In April 2024, he led 16 other KMT legislators on a

trip to China to meet with Xi Jinping’s key advisors,
including Wang Huning, the chairman of the Chinese
People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC).
The trip stirred controversy not only due to the cross-
strait implications, but because of its timing: Hualien
experienced its most severe earthquake in 25 years
this April, causing signi�cant damage. By carrying on
with the trip, Fu was accused of prioritizing ties with
Beijing over the reconstruction and recovery e�orts
in Hualien.

Fu’s dominance in the central political landscape,

coupled with his ties to Beijing, have raised questions
about China’s in�uence on Taiwan’s eastern region.

Since 2000, the two counties in

Taiwan's east, Hualien and
Taitung, have been loyal
supporters of the KMT and the
pan-Blue coalition. The local
Indigenous population, which
makes up about 30 percent of
residents, has long been seen as
an “iron vote” for the KMT and
Pan-Blue politicians.

In the 16th presidential election

in January, KMT candidate Hou
Yu-ih gained only 33.5 percent of
the national vote, but his vote
share in Hualien exceeded 50
percent. Democratic Progressive
Party (DPP) candidate (and
current president) Lai Ching-te
lost by over 25 percentage points
in Hualien, the largest gap in vote
A map share for Lai in any voting district
highlighting
Hualien County on Taiwan proper (excluding the
in Taiwan. o�shore islands)
Wikimedia The loss was all the more striking
Commons,
Taiwan Junior as Hsiao Bi-khim, Lai’s vice
president, held the legislative seat
from Hualien from 2016-2020. Hsiao was defeated by
Fu in her bid for a second term as Hualien legislator
in 2020, furthering the DPP’s decline in political
in�uence in the eastern region.

In the current context, the KMT’s dominance in

Hualien equates to Fu’s dominance. Not only do Fu
and his wife serve as Hualien’s regional legislator
and county magistrate, respectively, but the local
politicians they support occupy various positions
throughout the county, making Fu the “King of
Hualien.”

Fu has historically secured support through

advancing transportation infrastructure. During his
tenure as county magistrate, he �lled in a small creek
in Hualien City, known as “Gouzaiwei,” to build a
770-meter long road. Instead of using locally sourced
Hualien marble, he imported marble from China,
with the total cost amounting to 450 million
Taiwanese dollars (NT$).

During construction, Fu faced accusations of ignoring

advice from urban planners and even seeking to
bene�t speci�c companies. After the project’s
completion, residents along the road experienced
issues such as water accumulation and uneven
surfaces, bolstering concerns that it was a typical
white elephant project.

This approach to construction has become Fu’s

signature style during his campaigns. In 2020, with
the slogan “Give Hualien people a safe road home,”
he championed the Freeway No. 6 east extension
plan. This was the election where Fu defeated the
DPP’s Hsiao Bi-khim, winning his fourth term as
legislator.

The east extension plan of Freeway No. 6 is a highly

challenging project. With the backing of the KMT and
the TPP, the plan was swiftly reviewed in the
Legislative Yuan. Fu has proposed other two bills
that would mandate the government to expand the
high-speed rail system to the east coast and build an
expressway connecting Hualien and Taitung
counties. According to a government, the three
projects will cost around NT$2 trillion (US$61.8
billion), equivalent to around 10 percent of Taiwan’s
2023 GDP and close to the central government’s
entire 2024 general budget (which is just over NT$2.8
trillion).

Fu has called for the bills to be passed before the

legislative session ends in mid-July, although other
KMT legislators have pushed back, saying there is no
need to rush.

In the three bills, Fu speci�cally called for

international companies to participate through a
Build-Operate-Transfer (BOT) model. This has raised
concerns that it might serve as a backdoor for
Chinese capital to enter local projects through
reinvestment. Chinese infrastructure companies
have often undertaken projects abroad under similar
models.

There have been reports of the Fu family

accumulating wealth by reselling land to Chinese
investors. In 2011, in a ceremony attended by Hsu,
the Rongliang Company invested in construction
projects worth 47 billion yuan in Nanning, China; the
next year, Rongliang inked a deal to invest another 47
billion yuan in Dongguan, China. Hsu has served as
the chair of Rongliang, and in a 2017 tax evasion case
prosecutors alleged that Fu was the real owner of the
company.

In that case, Fu was accused of pressuring a

prominent Hualien hotel, Promised Land Resort and
Lagoon, to sell large parcels of land to Rongliang at
below the market rate. Rongliang then resold the
land to another developer, netting over NT$160
million overnight.
Fu denied the charges, calling them “political
persecution.” He was acquitted in 2020.

Further complicating the Promised Land Resort case,

Taiwanese media reported that Fu had attempted to
resell the land to a Chinese state-owned enterprise,
Beijing Enterprises Group Company Limited, using
third-country investors as a cover. (It would have
been illegal under Taiwanese law for a Chinese �rm
to buy the land outright.) The Fu family thus was
accused not only of using its political in�uence to
pro�t from land development, but attempting to
bring Chinese capital into Taiwan.

In general, the development of both tourism and

transportation infrastructure are attractive projects
for the residents of the eastern Taiwan region, where
industry and living conditions are underdeveloped.
However, this has resulted in the in�ltration of
Chinese capital into the local economy.

Since Taiwan opened up to Chinese tourists and

investments in 2008, Hualien has become one of the
most popular destinations for Chinese visitors. Hong
Kong-based travel agencies have established one-stop
service chains in the area, monopolizing souvenir
shops, hotels, tour bus services, and dining
establishments frequented by Chinese tourists. Under
this model, the spending of these Chinese tourists
largely returned to the hands of Chinese owners
without being taxed.

Worse, these one-stop services funded by foreign

capital also generated a vicious price competition,
severely damaging local businesses. The continually
declining quality of tourism has also led to a
downturn in domestic tourism in Hualien.

In August 2019, the Chinese government suspended

the policy allowing Chinese tourists to travel freely to
Taiwan. However, with the decline of domestic
tourism in Taiwan due to the COVID-19 pandemic,
the absence of Chinese tourists has resulted in a
signi�cant loss of money for local hotel and real
estate businesses. In order to persuade Beijing to lift
the suspension on free travel to Taiwan, Hualien’s
local businesses have been persistently pressing the
DPP government to adopt a softer stance toward
China.

These demands have e�ectively become political

capital for Fu in his negotiations with the PRC
government. After visiting China in April, Fu
mentioned the possibility of revising restrictive
measures like the Anti-In�ltration Act and other
factors unfavorable to cross-strait exchanges.

Fu’s vigorous push for the three transportation

projects in Hualien and Taitung can be seen as
paving the way for a prosperous development of
cross-strait relations, bene�ting his loyal supporters
in Hualien – and potentially Chinese businesspeople.
These challenging transportation projects would
require large-scale engineering equipment, a
strength of the Chinese state-owned engineering
groups that have set numerous world records.

The rise in land values around the road projects

presents a lucrative opportunity for the Fu family,
well-known for their expertise in land brokerage.
Moreover, land development opens opportunities for
Chinese capital to be integrated into local businesses,
establishing more one-stop services.

Finally, these government-funded projects would act

as Fu’s goodwill gesture to Beijing, aiming to reopen
Hualien to a large in�ux of Chinese tourists.

Hualien stands as a crucial gateway in eastern

Taiwan, home to the largest military port in the east,
Hualien Port, and the Jiashan Air Force Base. Just 140
kilometers from Japan’s Yonaguni Island, Hualien
serves as a crucial base for Taiwan's navy and air
force, facilitating access to the Paci�c Ocean and
maintaining vital connections with the U.S. military
base in Okinawa, Japan.

Allowing Chinese capital to monopolize Hualien’s

economy will trigger a series of domino e�ects,
undermining Taiwan’s e�orts to cooperate militarily
with allies like the United States and Japan. While Fu
leverages his China connections to boost his political
status within the KMT, he is set to continually
sabotage Taiwan’s e�orts to break free from Beijing’s
in�uence.

The Authors

is a research assistant at the National Taitung Living Art

Center

is an HR consultant at Doublethink Lab.

Depositphotos

In a lecture to China’s top legislative body,

a leading computer scientist outlined a
national AI strategy focused on developing
the real economy and overcoming U.S.
tech restrictions.
By

On April 26, Professor Sun Ninghui, a preeminent

expert in computer system architecture and an
academician at the Chinese Academy of Engineering,
delivered a pivotal lecture titled “The Development
of Arti�cial Intelligence and Intelligent Computing”
to the Standing Committee of the National People’s
Congress. Despite limited coverage from Chinese
media, the full text of the speech, published online,
provided a rare and revealing look into Beijing’s AI
ambitions.

Born in 1968 in Shanghai, Sun Ninghui has been a

linchpin in China’s technological landscape. His
career includes directing the National Intelligent
Computer Research and Development Center and
serving as the dean of the School of Computer
Science and Technology at the University of Chinese
Academy of Sciences.

Sun's lecture was more than an academic exercise; it

was a strategic blueprint of China's AI ambitions and
anxieties. He highlighted AI’s dual-edged nature,
pointing out its potential for remarkable
technological advancements while also spotlighting
the security risks, particularly regarding politically
sensitive information. AI-generated deepfakes,
fraudulent news from tools like ChatGPT, and the
proliferation of fake news sites underscore AI’s
potential to erode social trust. For Beijing, these are
not mere technical glitches but strategic
vulnerabilities the leadership is keen to neutralize.

Sun’s focus on AI’s ability to churn out politically

sensitive or “incorrect” information was striking. He
stressed that the AI landscape is riddled with factual
inaccuracies, inherent biases, and ease of
manipulation – ripe for exploitation by adversaries.
This concern is particularly acute for China, driven
by the government’s obsession with controlling
politically sensitive content. Beijing has rolled out
stringent regulations to ensure AI development stays
within state-approved boundaries.

The tech rivalry with the United States was another

focal point in Sun’s lecture. With superior talent,
foundational algorithms, and computational power,
the U.S. holds a commanding lead in AI. China’s
current role as a fast follower is a status quo that
Beijing is desperate to disrupt.

U.S.-imposed restrictions on high-performance

computing products and advanced semiconductor
technologies are signi�cant obstacles, argued Sun.
The ban on advanced chips like the A100 and H100
stymies China’s AI progress, highlighting the strategic
chokehold the United States maintains over China’s
tech aspirations. This impact is particularly harsh for
companies like Huawei and SMIC. Sun proposed that
China innovate indigenously and diversify supply
chains to reduce dependency on U.S. technology,
echoing Beijing’s call to safeguard its high-tech
future.

Sun’s critique of China’s underdeveloped domestic AI

ecosystem was particularly revealing. Compared to
NVIDIA’s expansive CUDA ecosystem, China’s AI
development tools and talent pool are still
embryonic, underscoring the urgent need for a
cohesive, integrated approach to building a
competitive AI ecosystem. The lack of synergy across
AI tech layers – from applications to hardware –
poses a signi�cant challenge that Beijing is
determined to overcome. To this end, China’s leaders
must commit to enriching the AI ecosystem through
substantial investments and strategic initiatives, Sun
emphasized.

He outlined three strategic pathways for China’s AI

development. The �rst involves aligning with U.S.-led
systems, a practical but restrictive path given current
geopolitical tensions. The second is building a closed,
proprietary system, suitable for speci�c sectors like
the military or judiciary but limited in scalability and
global reach. The third and most promising pathway,
according to Sun, is embracing an open-source model
through global collaboration initiatives like RISC-V.
By championing a collaborative global ecosystem,
China should dismantle existing monopolies and
lower entry barriers for domestic enterprises. This
third pathway aligns with Beijing’s vision of
becoming a global tech standard-setter and
innovation leader.

Investing in new infrastructure is another

cornerstone of China’s proposed AI strategy.
Emphasizing the importance of robust data and
computational infrastructure, Sun's vision includes
establishing national data hubs, developing
foundational AI models, and integrating
computational resources nationwide. The goal is to
transform data into a strategic national asset, making
AI services as accessible and a�ordable as utilities
like water and electricity. This strategy underscores
Beijing’s belief that a strong infrastructure backbone
is essential for sustaining growth, whether
traditional or AI-driven.

A signi�cant departure from the United States’

approach to AI is China’s focus on the real economy,
not just AI for AI’s sake. While the U.S. predominantly
drives AI innovation in virtual sectors like software
and internet services, China seeks to enhance its
manufacturing prowess through AI integration.
Deploying AI in traditional industries such as
manufacturing and pharmaceuticals while fostering
innovation in emerging �elds is imperative, Sun
emphasized. This practical strategy ensures AI not
only drives economic growth but also forti�es
China’s industrial base, maintaining its global
competitiveness.

Despite Sun’s con�dence and grand vision, Beijing’s

AI ambitions are not without signi�cant caveats. The
government’s stringent control over politically
sensitive content might sti�e innovation and limit
the potential for open scienti�c discourse. The heavy
reliance on state-approved values for AI
development raises questions about the ethical
implications and potential misuse of AI technologies.
Moreover, while the strategy to circumvent U.S.
restrictions through indigenous innovation has
merit, it remains to be seen whether China can
achieve the necessary technological breakthroughs
amid ongoing global competition.

Sun’s lecture was more than an informative session

for China’s legislators. It should be seen as a strategic
manifesto as Beijing is eager to craft a
comprehensive and forward-looking AI strategy. This
rare glimpse into the top leadership’s thinking o�ers
a sharp, critical perspective on how China plans to
harness AI to maintain its competitive edge in the
high-stakes tech arena.

The Author

is an a�liated researcher on the Chinese economy at the

Asia Society Policy Institute’s (ASPI) Center for China Analysis (CCA).
She holds a Ph.D. degree in Economics from MIT.
Depositphotos

Hong Kong’s vague and ambiguous

concept of “national security,” imported
from the mainland, is being applied to arts
and culture.
By and

On June 3, in the busy shopping district of Causeway

Bay, performance artist Sanmu Chan wrote the
Chinese characters for “8964”（八九六四）with his
�nger in the air. He then mimed pouring wine onto
the ground, to symbolize mourning those massacred
in the military crackdown on protesters in
Tiananmen Square on June 4, 1989.

Hong Kong police o�cers watched the entire

performance, then moved in and took Chan away.
This was the latest instance of zero tolerance for
remembrance of what the authorities called an
“upcoming sensitive date” – without naming the date
or place referred to.

Other individuals have recently been arrested for

sedition in Hong Kong in respect to referencing the
Tiananmen Square Massacre on social media,
accused of inciting hatred against the central and
Hong Kong authorities.

Despite being behind bars since 2021, the organizer

of the annual Tiananmen Massacre vigil Chow Hang-
tung was re-arrested a week ahead of the June 4
anniversary under the new Safeguarding National
Security Ordinance. The U.N. Working Group on
Arbitrary Detention has called for her release and
reparations.

Jimmy Lai, the founder of Apple Daily, also faces a

charge for lighting a candle at the 2021 Tiananmen
Square Massacre vigil. He is currently on trial for a
number of national security charges related to his
peaceful pro-democracy activism. He faces up to life
in prison.

Jens Galschiøt’s Tiananmen Massacre-themed

artwork, the Pillar of Shame, which stood on the
Hong Kong University campus for over 20 years, was
removed in the dark of night in December 2021, and
is now held by police as evidence in an unspeci�ed
case of subversion of state power.

Government-aligned newspapers reported in August

2023 that Galschiøt himself could be subject to a
secret arrest warrant, with transfer of trial to
mainland China owing to the severity of the threat to
national security. Ahead of this year’s upcoming
“sensitive date,” church leaders were cautioned not
to lead prayers.

Few places in the world police collective memory

and art with this degree of rigor. How has this
occurred in Hong Kong, which until recently ranked
high for free expression?

During public consultation prior to the March 2024

passage of the Safeguarding National Security
Ordinance, under Article 23 of the Basic Law, Hong
Kong o�cials made great e�orts to highlight that all
countries protect their national security.

The Article 23 legislation complements the 2020

National Security Law, which Beijing imposed on
Hong Kong and which has been used to arrest
hundreds of persons. The 2020 law was criticized by
the U.N. Human Rights Committee (among others),
which recommended its repeal. Hong Kong not only
rebutted this but introduced new legislation to
extend and strengthen the government’s reach.

A signi�cant aspect of these rounds of legislation has

been the introduction into Hong Kong law of Chinese
leader Xi Jinping’s “holistic” concept of national
security.

The concept de�nes national security as “the status

in which the state’s political regime, sovereignty,
unity and territorial integrity, the welfare of the
people, sustainable economic and social
development, and other major interests of the state
are relatively free from danger and internal or
external threats,” as well as encompassing “the
capability to maintain a sustained status of security.”
It derives from Xi’s call for “comprehensive national
security” (总体国家安全), introduced in 2014 and
added to the Communist Party Constitution in 2017.

Included among 16 dimensions of security, “cultural

security” targets ideological opposition and
discourses that diverge from those of the party.
This is an extremely vague and ambiguous concept
of “national security,” which can be applied to arts
and culture without any of the safeguards necessary
to ensure that a state is in compliance with
international human rights standards.

Hong Kong Secretary for Security Chris Tang spoke of

art as “soft resistance” and called artistic expression
a “common modus operandi of those seeking to
endanger national security.” Similarly, Chief
Executive John Lee asked everyone to tell a “good
story” of Hong Kong and has defended purging the
city’s libraries of books containing “bad ideologies.”

Vague and ambiguous statements such as these

encourage de-platforming and freelance censorship
in the private sector. Creative artists protect
themselves by self-censoring, steering away from
politics and social re�ection.

Aside from its place in a comprehensive scheme of

control, the Hong Kong national security apparatus’
focus on arts and culture is a means of signaling
control and boundaries without undue disruption of
Hong Kong’s economic and professional life.

By snipping o� any buds of re�ective discourse or

“wrong” memory, society is channeled into narrowly
productive ends. Those who can’t come to terms with
this will either �ee or �nd themselves harassed or in
custody, as people in Hong Kong who seek to
commemorate the Tiananmen Square Massacre have
experienced.

The broadening scope and arbitrary interpretation of

cultural security by the local and national
government and their allies is a challenge for all
sides. While the “sensitive date” is certainly to be
avoided, it is unclear what other expressions or
re�ections on history may be interpreted as seditious
or subversive.

Individual o�cials reassure that sincere and

constructive criticisms are welcome, although this
clearly is not the case. There is also no process for
clari�cation or appeal.

In a recent conversation with a Hong Kong artist, he

lamented that there are no red lines – Everything is
red.

Finally, this sets an alarming precedent for like-

minded regimes, which will be inspired to use a
broader concept of “national security” to police the
arts, culture, memory, and more. Condemnation and
outcry toward each instance of these human rights
violations in Hong Kong is vital to protect cultural
rights in Hong Kong and around the world.

The Authors

is a former president of the Hong Kong section of the

International Association of Art Critics (AICA) and presently a member
of the Freedom of Expression and Censorship Committee at the
international level of AICA. He now lives abroad.

is a research and policy advisor at Hong Kong Watch.

Her work focuses on the Hong Kong government’s human rights
violations and international legal obligations, including violations of
cultural rights. Anouk is Eric’s daughter.
Depositphotos

Even as Japan’s government seeks to

attract more workers from abroad, public
sentiment is souring on foreign tourists.
By

Japan has decided to scrap its controversial technical

intern program after increasing incidents of unpaid
wages, abuse, and exploitation of vulnerable foreign
workers from neighboring Asian countries. The
government has proposed an alternative training
program, which seeks to loosen the previous
program’s rigid working rules. It’s an indicator that
Japan’s attitude to immigration is shifting as the
country struggles to address its severe labor
shortage.

But, on an individual level, Japan’s hospitality toward

foreigners has reached a breaking point as it
grapples with a post-pandemic surge in tourism,
challenging Japan’s own idea of being able to coexist
with foreigners.

Japan’s economic prospects depend on �nding

workers and lifting the national birth rate, which
continues to fall. It needs 6.74 million foreign
workers by 2040, which is almost four times more
than its current foreign labor force, according to the
government’s 2022 economic growth report. Japan is
in desperate need of skilled foreign labor to bridge
the immediate labor shortfall in the agriculture,
construction, manufacturing, and healthcare sectors.

Japan’s ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) has

traditionally adopted a cautious stance around long-
term immigration. The technical intern program was
seen as a way to allow unskilled workers to train in
speci�c sectors without a path to long-term
employment or residency.

Originally, the technical trainee program was

intended to make international contributions to
developing countries, but the reality is that it has
become a valuable source of labor. Since 1993, each
year the program has seen as many as 400,000 people
from countries like China, Vietnam, the Philippines,
and Indonesia try their hand at a new skill and a new
language in sectors facing a critical worker shortage.

The government’s plan to scrap the technical intern

program comes as Japan’s treatment of migrant
workers garners international criticism. Under the
outgoing program, foreign nationals from developing
countries were accepted for up to �ve years to learn
skills through on-the-job training. But the program
prohibited trainees from changing companies,
regardless of unpaid wages, illegal overtime, sexual
harassment, abuse of power, and dangerous work
conditions. This led to some 68,000 trainees running
away from their workplaces between 2012 and 2022,
according to Japan’s Immigration Services Agency.

Pregnancy was also prohibited under the technical

trainee program. There have been thousands of cases
of workers hiding pregnancies and abandoning
newborns over the risk of losing their jobs. A survey
in 2022 found that one in four female technical
interns faced harassment and pressure to quit their
job over a pregnancy, according to the Immigration
Services Agency. The program was criticized for
being a breeding ground for exploitation and human
tra�cking by human rights groups assisting
technical trainees.

The U.S Department of State’s Tra�cking in Persons

Report has called out the technical trainee program
for shortcomings in countermeasures against forced
labor and human tra�cking. The report recognized
at least four technical trainees as being victims of
human tra�cking while under the program. It found
that some employers had con�scated workers'
passports and controlled their movements to prevent
trainees from escaping.

Starting in 2027, a “training employment” program

will replace the technical trainee program. The
newly launched program has been commended as an
improvement for foreign workers’ rights. It allows
workers to stay in Japan for training and
employment for three years. If their skills and
Japanese language ability reach a certain level, they
can move on to a “speci�ed technical skill” visa,
which can be renewed continuously at �ve year
intervals. It also allows job transfers within the same
�eld and has expanded the categories of work to
include retail, hospitality, and hotel work. The new
program fosters a path for long-term work
afterward.

In March the government approved plans to increase

the number of “speci�c technical skill” visas to
820,000 over �ve years. But the Japan-Vietnam
Tomoiki Support Organization says the new migrant
worker policy does not address the debt that
migrants arrive with as a result of exorbitant broker
fees. The government says it is considering
introducing an upper limit for broker fees.

Legal experts have also criticized Japanese

companies for having “almost zero” awareness of
human rights for foreign workers at a time when
companies in Europe face increased pressure to
tackle human rights violations and human tra�cking
risks associated with migrant labor.

Japan is now in competition with South Korea and

Taiwan for skilled migrant workers as Asia becomes
the fastest aging continent. There is also the setback
of Japan’s currency plummeting to a 34-year low and
its reputation su�ering from the scandal-ridden
technical trainee program, giving rise to a situation
where Japan needs foreign workers more than
foreign workers need Japan.

As Japan looks to improve work conditions and work

opportunities for foreign workers, Japan’s image as a
tourist friendly destination has taken a hit. In May
the number of foreign tourists in Japan topped a
record 3 million, and many Japanese are tired of the
in�ux.

One small town made international headlines by

erecting a barrier to block the view of Mount Fuji
due to complaints of bad-mannered tourists �ocking
to the town to take photos for social media. Some
restaurants have introduced higher menu prices for
foreign tourists, with foreign residents expected to
show their Japanese government-issued
identi�cation to get local prices. Geisha in Kyoto have
made complaints about frequent harassment for
sel�es and parts of Kyoto have banned photography
on the streets.

Japan is eager to revamp the country as a foreign-

friendly labor market. It’s getting ready to increase
the number of foreign workers with improved
working conditions with an eye for long term
residency. Yet at the same time, strands of
xenophobia continue to make life di�cult for
foreigners in Japan.

The Author

is an Australian-Sri Lankan cross platform

journalist living in Tokyo.
Depositphotos

The ruling People Power Party and the

opposition Democratic Party scu�e for
control over the National Assembly’s
standing committees.
By

South Korea’s National Assembly has 18 standing

committees. They are important; every single piece
of proposed legislation has to go through one of them
before it can be �elded to the National Assembly
�oor for a vote.

In early June, a spat erupted between the ruling

People Power Party (PPP) and the opposition
Democratic Party (DP) over selecting heads of these
committees. The DP, given their parliamentary
majority of 175 out of 300 seats, noti�ed the PPP that
they would select the heads of 11 committees from
their rank. But the PPP insisted on putting their own
members at the helm of the House Steering
Committee and the Legislative and Judiciary
Committee.

Control over these two committees is particularly

important. The former has oversight jurisdiction
over the presidential o�ce, and the latter over the
Justice Ministry and the Corruption Investigation
O�ce. They have power to summon and grill
virtually anyone.

The authorities have steered clear of investigating

First Lady Kim Keon-hee for her acceptance of
designer products in exchange for political favors
(one instance of which was caught on camera) and
for her participation in stock manipulation schemes
(she is known to have been involved, but the scope of
her awareness of the illegality hasn’t been
determined).

Since the matter concerns both the presidential

o�ce, corruption, and the judiciary, the PPP
desperately wanted to lead the relevant National
Assembly committees and evade humiliating public
hearings and more investigations.

Besides, the Legislative and Judiciary Committee has

the �nal say over the wording and format of every
piece of legislation, which can allow whichever party
controls it to tweak or deny content it doesn’t like.

Of course, the DP didn’t accede to the PPP’s demand.

Nobody was willing to budge on this point, halting
the bipartisan negotiation. The DP decided on their
candidates for the 11 committees, tossing the rest for
the PPP to decide. The PPP boycotted all proceedings.

On June 10, the speaker of the National Assembly had

no choice but to call for parliamentary votes to elect
the heads. (As per the National Assembly Act,
legislators have to elect committee heads no later
than three days after the �rst assembly since the
general elections.)

As the PPP refused to choose committee heads for the

remaining seven, the votes proceeded just for the 11
committees that had DP nominees. The PPP members
didn’t attend the session, instead staging a sit-in
outside of the speaker’s o�ce. The DP went ahead
and elected the committee heads, as a simple
parliamentary majority is all that’s required.

Then, comic scenes erupted. The DP-controlled

standing committees held their sessions, but the PPP
members and ministers summoned for interviews
went AWOL. They swore to stay out of the DP-
dominated National Assembly, instead holding
parallel, extrajudicial intra-party committees
mimicking the o�cial ones. Choo Kyung-ho, the PPP
minority whip, pledged to hamper the DP-led
legislation by “imploring presidential vetos.”

All 108 PPP legislators �led a joint complaint to the

Constitutional Court to nullify the DP’s appointments,
arguing that the DP trampled the principle of
parliamentary cooperation in such matters as
electing the speaker and committee members and
reviewing legislation. Meanwhile, the DP maintains
that, given the government’s corruption and
incompetence, this is precisely what the majority of
voters authorized them to do through the general
elections. The DP’s actions all conform to the
National Assembly Act.

President Yoon Suk-yeol’s Cabinet and the PPP

members ignored the standing committees’ call for
attendance. Although the constitution requires
government o�cials to turn up and answer the
committees’ questions regarding state a�airs, there’s
no clause detailing the consequences for giving the
committees the cold shoulder.

In response, the DP threatened to turn their hearings

into audits and investigations. If so, the committees
would get to “summon” the Cabinet and other
legislators, or anyone for that matter, as “witnesses.”
In this case, not clocking in could result in up to three
years of imprisonment. The committees can also
issue their witnesses a “warrant of accompanying,”
non-compliance of which leads to up to �ve years of
imprisonment.

The PPP is framing the whole fracas as the DP’s

“parliamentary dictatorship.” It is seriously
considering giving up the rest of the committees to
the DP to reinforce this narrative. Yet such a decision
comes with two disadvantages.

First, the PPP can’t participate in and take credit for

some laws in the pipeline that enjoy bipartisan, as
well as public, support. Currently, pregnancy leave is
one year for each newborn and capped at two years.
Both parties have been working on a bill to extend it
to 18 months, applicable to both parents, and to
prolong paid leave. It has long been anticipated as
the �rst concrete step in a while to encouraging
young couples to have children. But if the PPP
boycotts the Environmental and Labor Committee,
the DP will do the whole review and pass it on the
�oor all by itself, taking sole credit for a policy
widely welcomed by newlyweds.

Another law in the making concerns setting up a

legal framework and regulation to construct a
storage site for high-level radioactive waste. South
Korea has long struggled to �nd ways to permanently
dispose of spent fuel from its nuclear power plants.
And because these power plants and temporary
storage facilities are in the country’s southeastern
part, conservatives’ home ground, the PPP has been
working hard on this legislation. Yet, if the PPP gives
up �elding their own candidate for the
chairpersonship in the Committee for Trade,
Industry, and Energy, the DP will legislate alone,
raking in all the public goodwill.

Second, the PPP’s concession of control over the

committees the DP left up for grabs may spell more
trouble for the government. Some legislators from
the opposition parties have already expressed their
willingness to �ll in for these committees and initiate
o�cial audits on the context behind Yoon’s abrupt
announcement of new o�shore drilling for natural
gas. (There have been allegations of favoritism in the
government’s bidding process for contractors to
analyze deep-sea data, and of collusion between
government agencies deliberately committing
con�rmation bias in their reports to please the
president.)

The same holds for the National Defense Committee.

In case of the PPP’s continued refusal to lead the
committee, the committee will keep prying into
Yoon’s abuse of power last July, when a marine died
because of the top brass’ professional negligence, to
cover for his people. The Corruption Investigation
O�ce is already working on the case, and the
Legislation and Judiciary Committee held a hearing
on June 21, where the implicated �gures kept
hemming and hawing or refused to answer some
questions. Having two committees grilling the
involved parties could whip up more intense public
interest and fury since their hearings are all
broadcast.

If worse comes to worst, out of spite, Yoon may really

end up vetoing every single piece of legislation that
doesn’t carry the PPP seal, further exacerbating
South Korea’s legislative stalemate. So far, the
National Assembly has managed to pass only two
meaningful laws, one banning the consumption of
dog meat and the other forming a special counsel to
investigate the Itaewon tragedy. All the others were
scrapped due to either the DP’s refusal or
presidential veto.

Also, things can turn from pesky to nasty if the PPP

members and ministers end up getting arrested over
this childish intransigence. This entire series of
dramatic stando�s and political posturing will only
sour the public sentiment and deepen the political
divide.

The Author

writes on politics, society and history of Europe and East

Asia. He is also a non-resident research fellow at the ROK Forum for
Nuclear Strategy.
Depositphotos

Domestic, bilateral, and global trends are

combining to reshape China-South Korea
trade for the long term.
By

On May 27, Chinese Premier Li Qiang vowed a “new

start” in a trilateral summit with South Korean and
Japanese leaders, where they reached a general
consensus on future cooperation in various areas.
While this “refresh” could be a positive sign for
South Korea and China to improve their economic
ties, evolving bilateral dynamics, intensifying
geopolitical tension, an uncertain Chinese economy,
and a more competitive relationship in the global
value chain pose serious challenges for two
countries’ economic relations.

China has been South Korea’s most vital trade

partner for the past decade. This remains true
despite the THAAD controversy in 2017, when Seoul
agreed to deploy the U.S. missile defense system, and
Beijing responded with economic coercion. The
episode undermined China-South Korea ties, and
several sectors including automotive, retail, tourism,
and entertainment su�ered, yet the two economies
remain highly integrated.

Recently, however, South Korea’s economic ties with

China have waned. Since the pandemic, this
relationship has notably retracted. China’s share of
South Korea’s total exports has fallen from 25.9
percent in 2020 to 19.7 percent in 2023, according to
the Korea Customs Service, while exports to the U.S.
increased from 14.5 percent to 18.3 percent during
the same period.

At one point in 2023, South Korea’s export share to

the U.S. surpassed the one to China, the �rst time in
two decades (see Figure 1 below). In 2024, South
Korea’s export share to the United States (19.3
percent) even surpassed China (18.8 percent) for the
whole quarter.
Source: Korea Customs Service.

In addition, South Korean foreign direct investment

(FDI) in China in 2023 also dropped signi�cantly,
down to about one-�fth of its 2022 level, while the
FDI in the U.S. surged by approximately 180 percent
compared to 2020. In 2023, South Korean investment
in the United States was nearly 15 times larger than
its investment in China (see Figure 2). This was also
the �rst time since 1992 that China was excluded
from South Korea’s top �ve destinations for
outbound FDI.
Source: CEIC

These shifts prompt three vital questions: What

drives these changes? Are they long-term structural
shifts or a short-term blip? What does this mean for
the future of China-South Korea economic relations?

In 2023, semiconductors accounted for 20.7 percent

of South Korea’s total exports, the highest among its
industries. System semiconductors and memory
semiconductors constituted 33.8 percent and 29.2
percent, respectively, of the total semiconductor
exports.

One major factor contributing to South Korea’s

declining exports to China is the decreasing
semiconductor exports in the past two years due to
cyclical market demand and China’s increasing self-
su�ciency in semiconductors (although the market
has witnessed rebounds for the past seven months).
In 2023, South Korea’s semiconductor exports to
China hit their lowest level since 2016, and memory
exports fell to their lowest since 2019 (see Figure 3).

Source: Korea Customs Service

Moreover, the 2017 THAAD controversy, China-U.S.

trade war commencing in 2018, and supply chain
disruption during the pandemic have reshaped the
trade ties between South Korea and China. These
events have underscored the increasing geopolitical
risk and the vulnerabilities within the global supply
chain, prompting Korean �rms to pursue greater
diversi�cation from China, shifting focus toward the
U.S., ASEAN, and Europe since 2013, o�setting the
reduced share of exports to China (as shown in
Figure 1).
China’s economic slowdown also contributed to
South Korea’s decreasing exports to the country as its
domestic demand has been weak, stemming from
several factors such as limited government stimulus
measures, a real estate crisis, high youth
unemployment rates, and low market con�dence.

This uncertain economic landscape has complicated

the calculus for South Korean companies and led
them to adopt a more cautious investment approach.
In 2023, South Korea’s FDI into China plummeted by
78 percent. This aligned with broader international
sentiment toward China, as previous data reported
China’s record-low in�ow FDI. On top of that, China’s
volatile economic policy during the pandemic,
coupled with perceived insu�cient market support
has further compounded the uncertainties among
South Korean investors.

China’s evolving regulatory environment with a

greater emphasis on national security has also raised
concerns among South Korean investors. Although
Chinese President Xi Jinping has advocated for a
“pro-business China” to attract foreign investment
and re�ne its global image, recent legislations and
actions toward foreign business have cast more
doubt on China’s business environment.

For South Korean �rms, particularly high-tech FDI

contributors in China like Samsung and SK Hynix,
the most concerning but predictable factor is the
sustaining tension on trade and technology between
the two superpowers. As the geopolitical risk in
strategic sectors increases and is expected to escalate,
South Korean �rms have re-evaluated and halted
their investment in China. Instead, major tech
companies are investing in the United States to reap
the bene�ts of industrial incentives provided by the
CHIPS and Science Act and In�ation Reduction Act, as
well as sidestep geopolitical backlash.
This shift is evident in the growing investment in
semiconductor and clean energy and the signi�cant
decline in South Korean high-tech investment in
China. Speci�cally, South Korea’s semiconductor
investment in China witnessed a 99.8 percent year-
on-year decrease in 2023.

Another major factor is China’s rise in the global

value chain, which has shifted its economic
relationship with South Korea from complementary
to competitive. According to McKinsey, China’s share
in the global manufacturing industry has increased
from 19 percent in 2010 to 34 percent in 2023. China
also recently claimed it has achieved 86 percent of
the goals of “Made in China 2025.”

This change has led to increased competition in

semiconductors – the most pivotal South Korean
export and investment in China. Although South
Korean chipmakers still lead in high-end logic and
memory chips, China is gaining ground in the low-
end market. Since 2015, China's share of South
Korea’s logic and memory chip exports has
diminished. China used to account for nearly 70
percent of South Korea’s integrated circuits (ICs)
exports and close to 80 percent of its memory exports
in 2015. However, these �gures diminished to 57
percent and 73 percent in 2023, the lowest since 2015
(see Figure 4), amid the dwindling exports of DRAM
and Flash memory over the past �ve years.
Source: Korea Customs Service

While South Korean �rms remain dominant in

cutting-edge memories globally and ahead of Chinese
memory makers, Chinese companies like Yangtze
Memory Technologies Co. (YMTC) and ChangXin
Memory Technologies (CXMT) are gradually
improving their memory technologies and
production, albeit slowly, to compete for market
share against Korean �rms in China

Emerging competitors like Semiconductor

Manufacturing International Corporation (SMIC),
CXMT, and YMTC have continually expanded their
production and re�ning technologies despite
increasing restrictions from the United States.
Coupled with the Chinese government’s push for
domestic �rms to acquire more Chinese chips, these
companies are poised to gradually capture more
market share in logic and memory semiconductors,
challenging South Korean �rms.

Beyond the semiconductor industry, Chinese tech

�rms have intensi�ed competition with South
Korean �rms in the mobile phone, EVs, and battery
sectors. A 2023 report has suggested that the sales of
113 big Korean companies have dropped by 13.1
percent since 2016.

Considering these developments, it is hardly

surprising that South Korean companies are
becoming reluctant to invest in China, especially
those in high-tech sectors, due to concerns about
market potential, increasing competition, existing
and potential U.S. restrictions, rising operation costs,
commonly cited intellectual property, and technology
leakage. There might also be concerns that high-tech
FDI could inadvertently strengthen China’s high-tech
sector, enhancing its future competitiveness.

These changes indicate a structural shift rather than

a short-term blip in China-South Korea trade for two
main reasons.

First, the competitive economic ties between China

and South Korea are set to intensify. China is
expected to ascend further in the global value chain,
driven by a Chinese government that has
increasingly emphasized technology's role in the
country’s national strategy and is likely to place it as
top priority after the Third Plenum in July.

Second, South Korean �rms are expected to continue

diversi�cation e�orts to manage the increasing risks
in geopolitics and supply chain in years to come,
especially amid the sustained China-U.S. tensions
with the risk of further escalation. Admittedly, one
factor that remains unknown and debatable in the
equation of this relationship is the prospect of the
Chinese economy – a pivotal factor that impacts the
two countries’ economic cooperation.

While this economic relationship has entered a more

di�cult phase, it remains vital to both countries. For
instance, a May survey revealed that most Chinese
and South Korean business leaders consider
economic cooperation necessary.

Policymakers in Beijing and Seoul clearly understand

the importance of managing this bilateral economic
tie and have taken some initial steps seeking to
navigate the current dilemma. Two countries have
recently resumed the second phase of negotiation for
the ROK-China FTA which has been halted since 2015,
and the Korea-China Investment Cooperation
Committee after its suspension in 2011. Beyond
resuming existing dialogue, two sides also
established the “Korea-China 2+2 Diplomatic and
Security Dialogue” and the “Korea-China Export
Control Dialogue.” Yet, it remains unclear how
e�ective these dialogues can be in improving
bilateral ties.

In the end, though it is unrealistic to expect China-

South Korea economic ties to be as vibrant as they
were in the 2010s, the two economies are likely to
remain fairly integrated.

The Author

is a DC-based analyst and foreign a�airs analyst formerly

based in Taipei and Seoul. His pieces have appeared in Nikkei Asia, The
National Interest, The Diplomat, and The China Project, among others.
Wang is a Master of Science in Foreign Service candidate at
Georgetown University.
Presidential Executive O�ce of Russia

For North Korea’s military-industrial

complex, collaboration with Russia creates
a self-perpetuating cycle.
By and

The Russian invasion of Ukraine has presented an

unprecedented strategic opportunity for North
Korea, as it creates conditions for a transactional
relationship between the two. This relationship is
sustainable as long as the war in Ukraine continues.

The Hanoi summit in 2019 did not yield the results

that North Korea had hoped for – an easing of
sanctions without renouncing its nuclear and missile
program. Pyongyang then turned to its dormant ally,
Russia.

After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in

February 2022, bilateral contacts between Moscow
and Pyongyang have drastically increased both at the
top level and among Russian and North Korean
o�cials, expanding practical cooperation between
the two. These meet-ups set the stage for a troubling
exchange: ammunition for food and military know-
how.

Shells are key to Russia’s war e�orts, and its artillery-

centered armed forces require adequate and
sustainable supplies of ammunition to maintain its
o�ensive. Pyongyang has become a key supplier of
the needed ammunition. Since 2023, North Korea has
dispatched an estimated total of 6,700 containers of
ammunition by sea and by railway. In return,
Pyongyang has the opportunity to gain resources and
achieve important strategic advantages.

For North Korea’s military-industrial complex, this

collaboration creates a self-perpetuating cycle: with
Russia providing hard currency and raw materials,
the North Korean arms industry can increase its
capacity and provide more ammunition for Russia.
This is not only a blatant violation of international
sanctions, but it also has direct security implications
beyond Ukraine.

Kim has repeatedly expressed interest in developing

North Korea’s space program to improve intelligence
gathering capabilities. Kim and Putin’s meeting in
September 2023 at the Vostochny Cosmodrome thus
explicitly discussed cooperation in space. North
Korea likely received technical assistance from
Russia for the successful launch of the
reconnaissance satellite Malligyong 1 on November
21, 2023. North Korea has vowed to place still more
military satellites into orbit. The attempted launch of
a second satellite, Malligyong 1-1, while ultimately
unsuccessful, is believed to have incorporated
Russian help on rocket fuel and rocket engine
technology

Meanwhile, North Korea evidently has a greater

appetite for Russian technology beyond space,
particularly in intercontinental ballistic missiles
(ICBMs) and submarine-launched ballistic missiles
(SLBMs). While Russia so far has refrained from
supplying nuclear and missile technologies, the risk
of technological exchanges in those �elds between
the two cannot be overlooked. This would make
North Korea’s nuclear threats more credible. It is also
in line with its Juche philosophy, emphasizing
military strength and self-reliance. Stronger
deterrence against perceived U.S. aggression would
entice Pyongyang to act more confrontationally.

There are also strategic opportunities for Pyongyang

beyond a transactional quid-pro-quo in its
partnership with Moscow. Russia can reduce North
Korea’s reliance on China, which has traditionally
acted as its economic lifeline. Less dependence on a
single partner would grant North Korea more
autonomy in its foreign policy and economic
decisions.

China has been uncomfortable with some of

Pyongyang’s escalatory activities. Actions such as
missile launches, nuclear tests, and military exercises
automatically invite a stronger U.S. presence on the
Korean Peninsula and in the Asia-Paci�c. In contrast,
Russia, driven by its current needs for the war in
Ukraine, has become increasingly acquiescent of
North Korean military ambitions.

A closer North Korea-Russia relationship also has

signi�cant implications for the dynamics between
the two Koreas. Recently, both countries exchanged
war threats and resumed hostile activities in the
Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) that divides them, while
Pyongyang has increased the frequency of missile
launches.

At the same time, the North Korean narrative around

the South has also been fundamentally rede�ned.
Pyongyang no longer sees South Korea as their
compatriots, but rather as the “primary enemy.” It is
not by chance that this shift coincides with North
Korea’s rapprochement with Russia. It is an
opportune moment for Pyongyang to engage in
brinkmanship, as Russia’s veto power makes further
United Nations Security Council sanctions
increasingly unlikely. In the future, Pyongyang could
use the threat of escalations with South Korea as
leverage to gain favorable concessions.

As long as the war in Ukraine lasts, North Korea-

Russia military partnership is here to stay. While
Russia gets ammunition for its war in Ukraine; North
Korea receives food, military technology, and
diplomatic support at the United Nations. More
importantly, they are each other’s only possible
partner for such a quid pro quo right now.

The coalition between Pyongyang and Moscow will

certainly also have far-reaching strategic
implications in Europe and Asia-Paci�c. Several
factors might make China grow increasingly wary of
the new developments of the partnership between
North Korea and Russia. Amid an emerging military
alliance between the two, South Korea might also
pivot to directly supplying Ukraine with weapons,
which it has so far refrained from doing so.
The Authors

is a researcher at the LeidenAsiaCentre, specializing in

sanctions on DPRK and DPRK-Russian relations. She has a
background in Korean Studies and International Relations from
Leiden University.

is a researcher at the LeidenAsiaCentre, focusing on

China-Russia relations, the governance of digital technologies, and
cybersecurity. He specializes in big data research methods in political
science and international relations.
ROK O�ce of the President, Kang Min Seok

While South Korea’s interests were clear,

what was evident from the summit was
the lack of clarity on African governments’
joint, speci�c position on engagement
with Seoul.
By

On June 4-5, South Korea joined the trend of inviting

leaders of African governments for a summit
intended to boost cooperation and diplomacy. With
the theme “The Future We Make Together: Shared
Growth, Sustainability, and Solidarity,” the inaugural
Korea-Africa Summit was attended by 25 African
heads of state and government, and up to 48 African
countries were represented by a top o�cial. This
summit built on previous platforms, most notably the
Korea-Africa Forum (KAF) and the biennial Korea-
Africa Forum on Economic Cooperation (KOAFEC),
which started in 2006.

However, given these existing platforms, some

questioned the need for a separate summit. Indeed,
several African leaders were chastised for attending
the summit by citizens and opposition parties. Was it
worth it?

In the lead up to the summit, the �rst deputy director

of South Korea’s national security o�ce said, “South
Korea’s [strategic] collaboration with Africa is not an
option but is a must, in that South Korea is striving to
become a global pivotal state.” The Yoon government
clearly believes that a Korea-Africa summit �ts the
pro�le of South Korea’s ambition to become a “global
pivotal state.”

The �rst day of the summit saw Mauritanian

President Mohamed Ghazouani, chairperson of the
African Union, and South Korean President Yoon
Suk-yeol issue a joint statement outlining key areas
of cooperation. Per the Joint Declaration, Seoul
pledged $14 billion in export credits to Korean �rms
to enter African markets and made a further pledge
of $10 billion of O�cial Development Assistance to
Africa by 2030.

From Seoul’s vantage point, the need for a summit

and these pledges were clear, and boiled down to two
key overarching objectives: ensuring access to
critical minerals and seeking support over North
Korea issues.

Being home to the likes of Samsung, LG, and other

giants in the semiconductor and EV battery
industries, Seoul needs a stable and predictable
supply of key commodities. In February 2023, the
South Korean Ministry of Trade, Industry, and
Energy announced a strategy to guarantee a steady
and secure supply of critical minerals. The ministry
identi�ed 33 crucial minerals; among these, 10
(including lithium, nickel, cobalt, manganese, and
graphite) were designated as “strategic” for
semiconductor and electric vehicle (EV) battery
production.

Currently, South Korea meets around 95 percent of

its mineral demand through imports. African
countries have long been major sources of the
commodities that go into South Korea’s supply chain.
But until now, Seoul had not seen the need to
prioritize cooperation with Africa, because China has
been the middleman processing and re�ning these
commodities to industry grade. As a result, China is
by far the country South Korea is most directly
dependent on.

Last year, China was one of the three primary

suppliers for 25 of the 33 imported strategic
minerals. South Korea imported 97.7 percent of its
natural graphite and 94.3 percent of its synthetic
graphite from China as of September 2023. South
Korea also relies on China for signi�cant amounts of
other critical minerals, including 84 percent of its
lithium oxide, 83.3 percent of cobalt oxide, 77.6
percent of manganese and cobalt sulfate, and 69
percent of cobalt hydroxide imports.

However, this dependence is now seen as too risky

due to intensifying geopolitical tension, and
competition among advance economies to dominate
the fourth industrial age. In this context, Seoul aims
to secure its supply chain to build industry resilience,
and it sees maintaining favorable relations with
African countries as crucial.

Hence, on the sidelines of the summit Tanzania and

Korea inked a $2.5 billion concessional loan deal
over �ve years. It will allow South Korea access to
Tanzania’s ocean resources and minerals such as
nickel, lithium, and graphite. Ethiopia on the other
hand secured a $1 billion �nancing deal aimed at
infrastructure, science and technology, and urban
development, to be made available over four years.

A South Korea-Africa critical minerals dialogue is

scheduled to be inaugurated later this year, where
Seoul is likely to pursue further direct deals.

The second priority for Seoul was gaining support

amid tensions on the Korean Peninsula and rising
geopolitical anxiety more broadly.

Hence, the joint declaration also restated the need to

implement all United Nations Security Council
(UNSC) resolutions aimed at the “irreversible”
denuclearization of the entire Korean Peninsula – a
move clearly aimed at defanging North Korea. Seoul
intends to coordinate with the three African non-
permanent members of the UNSC to pressure
Pyongyang on security matters in the Korean
Peninsula.

Pyongyang seems to have read the writing on the

wall. Ahead of the summit, the Foreign Ministry of
the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK)
said in a statement that relations with Africa will
continue developing.

In a speech during the summit, Seoul urged African

countries to take �rmer steps in an international
pressure campaign against North Korea. “Along with
our friends in Africa, South Korea will fully
implement U.N. Security Council resolutions and
work to safeguard peace on the Korean Peninsula
and the international community,” Yoon said.

Pyongyang has long been a key player in providing

African countries with arms as well as military
services like training and equipment maintenance.
Tanzania, for instance, has engaged North Korean
engineers to maintain its �ghter planes. In 2017, a
U.N. report accused Tanzania of engaging a North
Korean company in �xing and improving its surface-
to-air missile systems. So it came as no surprise that
Seoul is keen to deepen ties with Tanzania.

There is a consensus among experts that the Seoul

summit, along with its trade and investment
opportunities, was intended to rally African support
against North Korea. Last year, Pyongyang seemed to
be on the backfoot on the diplomatic front following
the closure of some of its embassies across the world,
including in Angola and Uganda. However, Seoul has
good reason to make a bilateral push.

Back in March, Russia vetoed the United Nations’

renewal of a panel of U.N. experts monitoring North
Korea’s compliance with international sanctions. The
panel of experts’ reports at times accused African
countries violating U.N. sanctions in their dealings
with North Korea. No U.N. oversight means plausible
deniability for the African side moving forward; this
paves the way for North Korea to stage a comeback.

While South Korea’s interests were clear, what was

evident from the summit was the lack of clarity on
African governments’ joint, speci�c position on
engagement with Seoul. When African leaders were
questioned by journalists on what they wanted from
the summit, there was little of a unifying narrative.

This is not for a lack of potential unifying objectives

that would also meet domestic, bilateral objectives
for speci�c African countries, in both the areas
highlighted above and beyond.

Take critical minerals. To capitalize on global

competition for critical minerals, producing
countries with forward-thinking governments are
increasingly demanding better deals with an
emphasis on value addition. Indonesia is an excellent
case in point with nickel. From the African side, in
fact, there already exists a blueprint for this – the
African Mining Vision, which prioritizes value
addition, environmental protection, skills transfer,
and sustainable growth and development of
countries with the valued resources.

Already, countries are showing it is doable. Chinese

investments into lithium extraction in Zimbabwe and
Nigeria both include some level of re�ning.
Botswana has long been a success story in diamond
re�ning.

The Joint Declaration issued in Seoul stated, “We

emphasize the importance of Korea’s e�orts to
support Africa’s industrialization, and the need to
foster mutually bene�cial trade and investment and
strengthen Korean-African business partnership.” To
put that into practice, the agreements South Korea
reached with speci�c countries should deliver on
value addition. Right now, it is unclear whether they
do.

Furthermore, African countries could have followed

South Korea’s (and China’s) own path many years ago
and sought stronger language around the type of
investment supported by export credits for Korean
�rms, or even language around joint ventures or
local content or employment provisions that might
enable job creation and technology transfer through
such investments. But none of this language was to
be seen.

Similarly, while African governments proved willing

to engage with Seoul on the North Korea question,
there appeared to be little sign of a quid-pro-quo. Yet,
again when it comes to the U.N. Security Council,
Africa’s priorities are clear: the Ezulwini Consensus,
which demands African representation on the United
Nations’ top body. Even a nod toward this in the
declaration would have been helpful.

There are also other collective objectives African

governments had, which either were not advanced in
time to make it into the declaration or were rejected
by South Korea. Take the 10 billion ODA
commitment, for instance. This could have been
linked to an early commitment by Seoul to contribute
to the World Bank’s only concessional �nancing
instrument – IDA – which is due for replenishment.
In fact, Seoul is scheduled to be host the IDA’s �nal
pledging and replenishment meeting from December
10-11.

A fallback to that would have been for South Korea to

back a proposal made by Kenya’s President William
literally a few weeks ago when hosting the IDA Africa
Summit in Nairobi for the IDA to increase to $120
billon. While my �rm, Development Reimagined, has
published analysis demonstrating that $120 billion is
not particularly high in a historical or needs-based
context, the fact that no number was mentioned in
the declaration is a sign of low ambition from an
African perspective.

Overall, while the inaugural Korea-Africa summit

laid some groundwork for a boost in capital
commitment from South Korea toward
infrastructure, investment, and development projects
in Africa, the summit indicates that either African
leaders need to shout louder about their priorities, or
countries like South Korea must put more e�ort into
listening to African demands. It is likely both are
necessary.

Indeed, it is not the presence of African leaders at

such meetings that journalists or citizens should be
concerned about. It is the outcomes they achieve –
which should not be limited to just domestic
objectives. Most capitals like Seoul now have a cohort
of African ambassadors or high-commissioners, and
many have African Union representative o�ces.
With the proliferation of Africa-plus-one summits, it
is time for African capitals to organize and take these
summits seriously, using the cohorts and o�ces to
plan ahead and coordinate ambitious positions.

Meanwhile, countries like South Korea should make

more serious e�orts to co-create declarations,
making them truly “joint,” while making side-deals
that emphasize their commitments to
transformative, mutually bene�cial relationships.

The Author

is a policy analyst at Development Reimagined. He

focuses on geopolitics with particular reference to Africa in a
changing global order.
Associated Press

Narendra Modi has emerged weaker from

the recent elections. He is not invincible.
Will that change his style of functioning?
By

Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his Bharatiya

Janata Party (BJP) have returned to power for a third
straight term at the helm in New Delhi. However,
their performance in the recent general elections
was below expectations.

During the election campaign, Modi and the BJP

boasted that the party would win over 400 of the 543
seats contested in the general elections on its own.
But the BJP secured only 240 seats. While it is the
single largest party in Parliament, it is 32 seats short
of a simple majority. In the 2019 general election, the
BJP had enough seats (303) to form a government on
its own. This time around, the support of its partners
in the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) was
necessary for the BJP to form a new government.

Although this was Modi’s third straight win from the

Varanasi constituency, his performance was not
impressive, as his victory margin was a mere 152,513
votes compared to 479,505 in 2019. Modi’s
inauguration of a Ram Temple at Ayodhya, a key BJP
campaign plank, fell �at on its face. The party lost
�ve of the nine seats from the Ayodhya region.

Despite leading the BJP to a “historic” third term in

government, the results of India’s 18th general
election are a humiliating comedown for Modi. His
stature in the eyes of voters, his party, and the NDA
coalition is much diminished. For the �rst time in
decades, Modi does not seem invincible.

The survival of his government depends on the

continuing support of his NDA partners. Running a
successful coalition government requires
consultation, making concessions, and decision
making by consensus. It has prompted Modi’s
detractors to claim that the prime minister would,
therefore, have to listen to NDA partners and heed
their demands. Since Muslims comprise an
important support base of two key allies, the Janata
Dal (United) or JD(U) and the Telugu Desam Party
(TDP), Modi would have to moderate his aggressive
anti-Muslim positions, perhaps even abandon key
items on the BJP’s Hindutva agenda, analysts said.

However, such expectations may be overly optimistic.

Early signs do not bode well.

Ahead of the swearing-in of the new Cabinet, there

was much talk about the TDP and the JD(U)
demanding key portfolios in return for their support.
However, Modi did not give in to their demands. The
most powerful portfolios, including home, defense,
�nance, and external a�airs, remain in the hands of
the BJP. It refused to �eld a non-BJP MP for the
speaker’s post either. Had it done so, it would have
gone a long way to allay the concerns of its allies and
the opposition.

Modi, despite his diminished clout, is no pushover.

During his previous two prime ministerial terms,

Modi used the central investigative agencies to
intimidate opposition politicians into joining the BJP
and silence media and other critics of his regime.
TDP Chief N. Chandrababu Naidu, for example, was
jailed on corruption charges last year. Modi could use
this modus operandi again to keep Naidu and other
coalition allies in line. He could deploy this tactic to
divide the opposition INDIA bloc and draw
opposition parties and factions to boost the strength
of the ruling coalition.

Analysts are also pointing out that Modi’s style is not

conducive to running a coalition government. In an
article in Scroll, political analyst Ramachandra Guha
argued that unlike his predecessors, who were
“wired, both by experience and temperament, to
e�ectively run a government with support from
other people and other parties, Modi is not.”

Except in the 1990s, when as an activist of the

Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, the BJP’s ideological
mentor, Modi would have taken orders while
engaging in mobilization and organization of
campaigns, marches, and rallies, he has never
worked under anyone.

Both as Gujarat chief minister (2001-May 2014) and

India’s prime minister (2014 onward), Modi has
functioned as the unchallenged supremo of the BJP
and the government. Indeed, unlike other BJP
leaders, who have consulted, even taken orders from
the RSS, Modi has maintained a distance from its
leadership over the past two decades.

Modi’s tendency to centralize power and reluctance

to consult in the past suggest that the NDA allies will
remain junior members of the coalition, not equal
partners of the BJP in government.

The recent general election has not only dealt a

setback to the BJP and Modi, but also provided a shot
in the arm to the INDIA coalition in general and the
Congress party in particular. The opposition’s
numbers in Parliament have increased, as has their
morale. Modi can expect to face a more aggressive
opposition both in parliament and outside.

Most importantly, Modi can expect challenges from

within. His arrogant and non-consultative style has
arguably irked other BJP leaders.

Additionally, relations between Modi and RSS chief

Mohan Bhagwat, which have been strained for years,
have worsened of late. In a speech delivered from
the RSS headquarters in Nagpur two days after
election results were announced, Bhagwat pulled up
the Modi government, albeit without naming the
prime minister. “Manipur is still burning,” Bhagwat
said. “Who is going to pay attention to it? It is a duty
to deal with it on priority.”

Even if Modi does not heed his coalition partners or

even the opposition, he can be expected to heed the
RSS leadership’s “advice” to a greater extent than in
the past. Over the past decade, the equation between
Modi and the RSS tilted in favor of the former.

Post-election, that may have changed.

The Author

is South Asia editor at The Diplomat.

Pakistan Foreign Ministry Press Service via Associated Press

The main challenge lies in raising taxes in

a country that has long failed to widen its
tax base.
By

Pakistan’s newly elected government recently

presented its federal budget for 2024-2025, setting an
ambitious tax revenue target of $46.66 billion – a
nearly 40 percent jump from the past year. This bold
move is part of the government’s e�orts to strike a
new deal with the International Monetary Fund
(IMF) to address the country’s mounting debt crisis.
Pakistan is reportedly seeking a new IMF bailout of
up to $8 billion, which Islamabad claims will be its
last if it implements all the envisioned economic
reforms.

The budget document promises to bring the public

debt-to-GDP ratio under control, a critical concern
for Pakistan and its lenders, including the IMF and
China.

With external debt reaching $125.7 billion in March

2023 and the debt-to-GDP ratio standing at around 75
percent in 2022, the government seemingly
recognizes the urgent need to prioritize �scal
consolidation and improvements in the balance of
payments position.

A country’s debt-to-GDP ratio indicates how much its

national debt is compared to its GDP. Economies that
have a low debt-to-GDP ratio typically have enough
revenue collected to repay loans without incurring
further debt.

Finance Minister Muhammad Aurangzeb recently

emphasized the importance of this opportunity,
urging the country not to waste it. “Pakistan has
another opportunity to improve itself and embark on
the path of economic development. I request
everyone not to waste this chance,” he said during
his budget presentation speech in the Parliament.

The budget also aims to bring down the �scal de�cit

for the new �nancial year to 5.9 percent of GDP from
an upwardly revised estimate of 7.4 percent during
the outgoing year. This will be achieved through a
combination of measures, including restrictions on
dollar-driven imports, keeping bank borrowing rates
at record-high levels, and the privatization of some
state-owned loss-making enterprises.

Moreover, the upcoming year’s growth target has

been set at 3.6 percent, with in�ation projected at 12
percent. The government also plans to generate
additional revenue by selling its shares in various
projects, including mining ventures.
While the promises made in the budget document
seem encouraging and point toward a need in
Pakistan to contain its debt and raise more funds to
increase its revenues, the question remains: Can
Pakistan’s new budget deliver on its ambitious
targets? The success of this plan will be crucial in
securing the much-needed IMF deal and putting the
country on a path to economic stability and
development.

The challenge for the new Pakistani government in

raising taxes is that the country has failed to
signi�cantly widen its tax base beyond direct taxes
repeatedly in the past. Only 10 million out of a
population of over 230 million are registered
taxpayers, and just 4.4 million �led annual tax
returns with the Federal Board of Revenue (FBR). The
FBR’s weak system is often exploited by businesses
and individuals to evade taxes, and there is little
enforcement outside of major cities.

Moreover, there is little public awareness that tax

�ling is mandatory, as the state has historically been
lax in enforcement. This has reinforced public
attitudes that tax evasion is not a serious o�ense.

Furthermore, the current coalition government may

be reluctant to implement drastic reforms that could
undermine its political base, even as the country
stands on the brink of default. The coalition
government led by the Pakistan Muslim League-
Nawaz (PML-N) is already facing criticism from its
allies. The Pakistan People’s Party (PPP), in particular,
has complained that the budget does not take into
consideration their concerns. It appears there are
di�erences over how to implement a reform agenda
to address the economic crisis.

Stakeholders, including the IMF, will be wary of

whether the government is fully committed to
implementing tough reforms, as the tax revenue
increases are expected to come largely from the
middle class, who have already been hit hard by
in�ation.

Meanwhile, reports suggest that powerful elites may

continue to evade taxes, further fueling public
discontent. The government’s ambitious budget plans
may impress international observers, but the true
test will be whether it can overcome these deep-
seated challenges to expand the tax net meaningfully.

The government’s budget proposal raises signi�cant

concerns about its ability to achieve the ambitious
revenue collection targets and address the growing
pension liabilities. While the budget includes a
substantial increase in government employee
salaries and a doubling of the federal development
budget, the lack of clear plans to tackle the pension
crisis and the uncertainty surrounding the
government’s ability to meet the nearly 50 percent
growth in direct taxes are worrying.

The �nance minister’s expectation that a Sta�-Level

Agreement with the IMF will be sealed in July is a
positive sign. However, the IMF’s lack of response to
the budget raises questions about its viability.
Although some may consider the IMF’s silence as an
approval of the budget, it could also indicate that it
does not want to pressure the government publicly
on the issue.

What happens next will test the state’s seriousness in

implementing meaningful reforms and addressing
the country's economic challenges.

The Author

is a correspondent for The Diplomat, based in Lahore,

Pakistan.
Special Arrangement

A number of factors, including perceived

electoral irregularities, a lack of genuine
competition, and disenchantment with
local governance, has eroded public trust
in the electoral process.
By

A few years ago, Tahsin Irteza, a 23-year-old

university student, obtained his National Identity
Card from Bhandaria, an upazila (subdistrict) in
Pirojpur, Barisal division, where he was born and
raised. He planned to vote in the upcoming local
elections in his area.

On May 29, the third phase of the country’s sixth

Upazila Parishad election, was scheduled to take
place in 87 upazilas across Bangladesh, including
Bhandaria. Irteza found himself in a dilemma about
whether to vote or not. In the end, though, he and all
the other voters of the upazila did not even have the
opportunity. The candidates for all three posts – the
chair and two vice-chair positions – were elected
uncontested, as no rival contenders emerged for
their respective races.

“Firstly, we are all familiar with our country’s

current voting system. Initially, I was in a dilemma
about whether I should vote or not, as it wouldn’t
make any di�erence,” Irteza told The Diplomat.

“Bangladesh has a population of more or less 170

million. Yet, in my area, there were no contenders
against the incumbents?” he said. “On the contrary,
we witness political engagement everywhere, from
tea stalls to every corner. Hence, it seems somewhat
perplexing to us that there are no candidates in a
democratic country.”

According to Irteza, “The lack of transparency and

fairness and low turnout has resulted in widespread
apathy and disinterest among voters. Especially
among young people, I believe there’s a lack of
motivation to participate in a process they perceive
as rigged and unfair, resulting in diminished
enthusiasm and excitement about the upcoming
election.”

The 6th Upazila Parishad Elections were held in four

phases across Bangladesh. Starting on May 8 and
ending on June 5, four phases of the election were
completed among 442 upazilas. (Twenty-two upazilas
have yet to hold elections, as their voting was
postponed due to Cyclone Remal). Registered voters,
totaling approximately 121.8 million, were supposed
to cast their votes for one chairperson and two vice
chairpersons in the local election.

However, according to the Election Commission (EC),

the voter turnout across all four phases averaged
35.8 percent: 36.1 percent in the �rst phase, 37.7
percent in the second, 35 percent in the third, and
just 34.3 percent in the fourth.

In the national election on January 7, the voter

turnout was only around 40 percent, according to the
EC. However, critics and the opposition say the
turnout was less even than the stated �gure. The
deserted environment visible at most polling places
made it easy to criticize the turnout number given by
the EC.

The scenario was di�erent in 2009, when the

government revived the upazila parishad elections
after a long gap.

The system, introduced in 1982, represented a

journey toward decentralized governance when Gen.
Hussain Muhammad Ershad took the reins of power.
Originally called “thanas,” these administrative units
were rechristened “upazilas” and functioned as
subdistricts. The system aimed to empower local
communities by placing decision-making closer to
the people.

However, early challenges arose due to con�icts

between upazila chairpersons and national
parliamentarians, leading to the system’s abolition in
1992, the year after the Bangladesh Nationalist Party
(BNP) came to power.

“When they introduced the upazila government

system, there was a debate about power dynamics
between the MP and the chairman of the Upazila
Parishad,” said Badiul Alam Majumdar, a renowned
economist, political analyst and local government
and election expert. “Although they both oversaw the
same area, it became evident that MPs wielded more
in�uence. Over time, this power struggle escalated,
with MPs subtly asserting their dominance over the
chairman’s responsibilities. They started to �ght
silently [to determine] who will be more powerful
locally.

“Eventually, the government decided to abolish this

system for various reasons… [the power struggle]
was one of them,” Majumdar concluded.

As Muhammad Sayadur Rahman of the Department

of Public Administration at Jahangirnagar University
explained further in a 2012 paper:

The inception of MPs following the 3rd

parliamentary election in 1986 ignited tension
between legislators and Upazila Parishad
Chairman. Regardless of their political
allegiance, MPs sought a stake in Upazila
authority, as they lacked formal jurisdiction over
local administration. Eventually, the Ershad-led
administration enacted the Zilla Parishad Act in
1988, establishing District governments and
appointing MPs as chairpersons of the District
Parishads. However, following the end of
military rule, the newly established democratic
government showed apathy towards the
Upazila Parishad.

During the caretaker government’s tenure from 2007

to 2009, there was a signi�cant focus on empowering
local governments. In 2008, the caretaker
government reinstated the upazila system,
establishing the upazila parishad as an independent
local governing body elected directly by the
populace, without granting MPs any advisory
authority. Subsequently, the Upazila Parishad Act
was repealed entirely and replaced with the Local
Government (Upazila Parishad) Ordinance of 2008.

However, when the Awami League (AL) government

assumed power in 2009, it chose not to endorse the
Upazila Parishad Ordinance in Parliament. Instead, it
reinstated the repealed 1998 Upazila Parishad Act,
incorporating provisions for MPs to act as advisers.
Despite recommendations from lawmakers within
the parliamentary standing committee of the
Ministry of Local Government, Rural Development,
and Cooperatives to extend this advisory role to MPs
in city corporations and municipalities, the
government declined to implement these
suggestions.

Despite being designated as mere advisers, the

interference of MPs in the functioning of upazila
parishads has hindered their e�ectiveness since the
January 2009 elections. In response, upazila parishad
chairs and vice chairs are now mobilizing to
advocate for the restoration of operational autonomy
for the local bodies.

The system was revived with modi�cations after

decades. A pivotal moment came in 2008 with the
Upazila Parishad Ordinance, which established the
Local Government Commission to oversee elections
and promote e�ciency. It also introduced reserved
seats for women within upazila parishads, ensuring
a more inclusive approach. Today, upazila parishad
representatives, elected directly by the people, play a
critical role in driving local development initiatives
and fostering grassroots democracy.

While the system has undergone some changes since

its inception, the core structure remains focused on
empowering local communities and encouraging
participation in shaping their future. However, the
historical trends in voter turnout reveal a �uctuating
pattern. The year 2009 witnessed a robust
participation rate of 70.6 percent, demonstrating a
high level of civic engagement. By 2014, this
enthusiasm waned slightly, with the turnout
decreasing to 61.2 percent.

In the meantime, after the national election of 2008,

Bangladesh’s political landscape changed
signi�cantly due to the AL government. Armed with
a two-thirds majority, the AL and its allies removed
the caretaker government provision from the
constitution in 2011. Although the AL claimed that
this was prompted by a verdict from the highest
court, it is widely recognized that the removal of the
provision was intended to establish the ruling party’s
dominance and remove uncertainty regarding
election results. Opposition parties, including the
BNP, protested the passage of this amendment.

As a result, in the national poll of 2014, the election

was held under the AL government, and in protest
the main opposition and many other parties chose
not to participate in the election. Things went as the
AL planned. In the 2018 national election, the system
was the same as there was no caretaker government.
That time, the BNP had to participate to keep its
party registration. Few considered the polls free or
fair, however. Year by year, Bangladesh slipped down
in the world rankings of democratic indices.

Come 2019, a more signi�cant downturn unfolded in

the upazila election, particularly in the initial phase,
where the turnout plummeted to 43.3 percent. This
decline persisted across subsequent phases,
culminating in an overall average turnout of
approximately 40 percent for the year.

Fast forward to 2024, and the trend continues, albeit

with a further dip. The four phases of this year’s
upazila election, each of them lower than any phase
in an earlier year, indicate a sustained trend of
decreasing voter engagement. This downward
trajectory raises questions about the factors
in�uencing voter participation and underscores the
importance of initiatives to revitalize civic
involvement in the electoral process.

It appears that voter interest is decreasing as the

election progresses. Factors such as rain in some
areas, the ongoing paddy harvesting season, and the
recent landfall of Cyclone Remal were cited by the
o�cials as reasons for the lower turnout in the last
phases. But due to disasters or other unexpected
reasons, voting has been postponed in over 22
upazilas. So those electorates are not being counted
in voter turnout calculations. And if the agricultural
season is such a deterrent to voter turnout, why not
hold the polls at another time of the year?

The declining voter turnout in upazila elections is

concerning, and several key factors have contributed
to this trend. For one thing, the upazila parishad has
become ine�ective largely due to unconstitutional
interference by MPs and excessive control by
administrative o�cials. This interference
undermines the autonomy and decision-making
power of local representatives, leading to public
disenchantment. When citizens perceive that their
representatives lack the ability to e�ect change, they
lose interest in participating in elections.

But there is a deeper problem as well. Over time,

citizens’ trust in the electoral process has diminished
due to past irregularities, vote rigging, and
questionable practices in local government elections.
Instances of polling centers being taken over, false
votes being cast, and other manipulations have left
voters doubtful. The notorious votes during the 2018
general election and the rushed convictions of
opposition leaders before the 2024 general election
have further fueled this mistrust. Consequently,
voters now question the signi�cance of their votes,
suspecting that election outcomes are predetermined
by those in power.

“Low voter turnout is symptomatic of a larger issue,”

Majumdar said. “The essence of casting a vote lies in
the desire to elect the most suitable candidate for the
incumbent position. However, the prevailing
sentiment among the people of Bangladesh suggests
a disillusionment wherein they perceive their votes
as inconsequential.

“This perception stems from a perceived bias among

incumbent individuals, the Election Commission, and
administrative authorities. Furthermore, the lack of
participation from opposition parties underscores
the prevailing skepticism, as they anticipate
predetermined outcomes. Consequently, this
disenchantment, coupled with concerns over
�nancial burdens and personal safety, serves as the
primary reasons behind the diminished participation
in our local elections.” he continued.

The people of Bangladesh used to be crazy about

elections because of the festivities; however, this
festive mood no longer exists in the country. “Even
despite the open �eld where anyone can stand in the
upazila election, however, there are still less
candidates,” Majumdar said. “The voting system in
our country has been totally destroyed.”

Mohammad Rayhan Ahmed (a pseudonym), 35, from

Sakhipur, a subdistrict in Tangail district, recently
returned from Saudi Arabia, where he had worked as
a migrant worker for the past seven years. Since his
student days, he has been a supporter of Abdul Kader
Siddique, a freedom �ghter and former MP, and his
party, the Krishak Sramik Janata League. Ahmed
even sent money from his earnings to the party o�ce
in his local area.
“I was very excited as before about our upcoming
upazila election on June 5. However, there is no
election vibe or excitement here like before.
Although one person from my supported party is
contesting, some leaders who do politics for the AL
are also contesting this election,” Ahmed told The
Diplomat prior to the voting.

“One of them from the AL will surely win. Basically,

AL leaders are �ghting against AL leaders in
di�erent signs. That’s why I may not vote, and
neither will my family members,” he said.

The lack of participation by all political parties

stands as one of the major reasons behind the rising
voter apathy. When major parties boycott upazila
elections, voter enthusiasm wanes. Additionally, the
deteriorating law and order situation in some areas
discourages citizens from visiting polling centers.
This combination of political boycotts and security
concerns signi�cantly dampens voter motivation.
Addressing these issues – rebuilding con�dence in
the electoral system, ensuring institutional
autonomy, and creating a fair and secure
environment – is essential for revitalizing voter
participation in upazila elections.

Along with the BNP, some major political parties

boycotted the local elections in line with their
political stance, while many smaller parties are not
participating due to a weak organizational base and
the tenfold increase in the mandatory security
deposit set by the Election Commission.

The BNP and its allied parties have o�cially decided

to avoid the elections, describing them as a “farcical
election.” However, despite the boycott by the BNP,
many grassroots leaders of the party around the
country participated in the election. As a result, the
BNP has expelled at least 193 leaders for
participating in the upazila elections — 80 in the �rst
phase, 61 in the second, and 52 in the third.

In addition to opposition parties, many members of

the AL-led 14-party alliance are also abstaining.
While the Jatiya Party (JP), the main o�cial
opposition in Parliament, and some partners of the
ruling alliance are participating, their involvement is
minimal.

“Currently, there are approximately 100 candidates

representing the JP nationwide, a �gure that, though
notably low, has become somewhat customary,” said
Adv. Md. Rezaul Islam Bhuiyan, a presidium member
of the JP.

“I personally contested in the 12th National Election

from Brahmanbaria-2 in Chittagong division,” he
added. “On the day of the election, up until 3:00 p.m,
voter turnout was a mere 7 percent. This experience
left us disheartened and skeptical about the integrity
of future elections, particularly given the prevailing
perception that the AL tends to dominate most
upazila parishad contests.”

Like Ahmed, Bhuiyan expressed concern that

democracy in Bangladesh now means choosing
between candidates from a single party: “It’s
disconcerting to witness members of the AL
competing against each other under the guise of
open competition.”

In January, the AL decided not to use party symbols

in the elections, said AL General Secretary and Road
Transport and Bridges Minister Obaidul Quader.

The AL has been grappling with issues of control

among its grassroots leaders. Despite being in power
for three consecutive terms, the party has struggled
to maintain discipline, particularly at the local level.
Party chief and Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina has
directed central leaders to take strict action against
those who have violated party rules. This move
comes as the AL prepares for its next national
council, with the aim of resolving these issues before
the event.

Grassroots leaders have been accused of not

adhering to the central committee’s directives,
leading to intra-party con�ict and rivalry. The central
committee’s e�orts to enforce discipline have been
met with resistance, with grassroots leaders often
refusing to follow orders and failing to resolve
internal con�icts or complete local unit committees.

The party’s recent strategy to allow both independent

candidates and o�cial nominees to contest elections
aimed to increase voter turnout, especially in the
absence of the BNP. However, this led to signi�cant
division at the grassroots level, with multiple
candidates from the AL competing against each
other. The resulting factionalism weakened the
party’s unity and contributed to the spread of
in�uence and incidents of violence in the recent
upazila elections.

Moreover, despite the AL central committee’s strict

directive against the participation of ministers’ and
MPs’ relatives in the elections, it appears that this
instruction has not been fully adhered to. Reports
indicate that over 50 relatives of ministers and MPs
pursued public posts in the four-phase upazila
elections. Notably, 10 out of 13 relative-candidates
were elected in the �rst phase of the upazila
elections, with similar trends expected in the
remaining phases.

Hasina has emphasized that the term “family” in the

context of the upazila elections should include the
ministers and MPs themselves, their spouses, and
children. Despite her clear stance, many relatives of
ministers or MPs have de�ed the party’s decision and
contested anyway, introducing a new dimension to
the ruling party’s politics.

This situation has created a dilemma for several MP

or ministers, as some relatives have complied with
Hasina’s order and withdrawn their candidacies,
while others have chosen to disregard the directives.
The outcome of this directive is poised to in�uence
the future political landscape, as those who fail to
heed the party chief’s message risk facing
consequences.

Barrister Syed Sayedul Haque Suman, an MP for the

Habiganj-4 constituency in Sylhet, also very famous
to netizens, has been accused of violating the
electoral code of conduct during the Chunarughat
Upazila Parishad election. The allegations include
campaigning for a chair candidate, announcing
donations, and promising cash to voters. A complaint
was �led by Md Abu Taher, another chair candidate,
to the assistant returning o�cer and Chunarughat
Upazila Nirbahi O�cer. In his response to the
Election Inquiry Committee, Suman denied
breaching the electoral code of conduct.

The declining voter turnout in the upazila parishad

elections is a concerning trend that re�ects broader
issues within Bangladesh’s political landscape. A
combination of factors, including perceived electoral
irregularities, lack of genuine competition, and
disenchantment with local governance, has eroded
public trust in the electoral process. The absence of
major opposition parties, coupled with intra-party
con�icts within the ruling Awami League, has
further compounded this issue. As a result, voters are
increasingly questioning the signi�cance of their
participation in what they view as a �awed system.
The Author

is a Bangladeshi journalist and photographer who

covers politics and society from Dhaka for The Diplomat.
Depositphotos

Why would Afghans, who are very familiar

with Taliban brutality, be impressed with
their justice system?
By

As we approach three years since the Taliban’s

takeover of Afghanistan, many aspects of governance
have changed, most prominently the precipitous
decline of girls’ education and space for women in
public life. The justice system has also experienced a
transformation, as the former government’s Western-
inspired system of prosecutors and judges was swept
aside in favor of swift judgments by Taliban justices
interpreting Shariah principles.
Although short on due process and unsparing in
their punishments, the Taliban’s courts have won
some praise from citizens for their speed, clearing
huge backlogs of cases, and are regarded as
relatively less corrupt than the previous regime.

The perceived e�ectiveness of Taliban local courts

stands in sharp contrast with many aspects of their
governance post-coup: economic policy has failed to
jumpstart a �agging economy, terrorism from the
Islamic State Khorasan Province is seen as a
mismanaged and growing security threat, and many
basics of government functioning remain vague at
best.

The Taliban’s comfort with local level dispute

resolution is in many ways a return to earlier,
simpler days for the movement. In the heart of the
insurgency, more than a decade ago, they could focus
on the relatively straightforward task of �ghting the
former Kabul government and its allies, and
imposing Shariah law in rural areas using a network
of motorbike-riding judges.

Our new research looks back at this period (from

2011-2014) at the end of the U.S. “surge” to
understand how the Taliban’s introduction of local
courts may have impacted the course of the war.

Comparing districts where Taliban courts operated

during this period with other districts that otherwise
look very similar but did not have courts, the areas
with Taliban justice experienced signi�cant
reductions in violent civil disputes (for example,
�ghts between families over land). This resulted in a
major increase in citizens’ reported perceptions of
Taliban capacity to govern, and reduced con�dence
in the Kabul government, as reported by citizens on a
U.S.-government collected survey (perhaps thus an
understatement). Afghans who witnessed Taliban
justice in their district were much more likely to
report that they would bring their own disputes to
the Taliban, rather than to government courts, and
reported lower likelihood of calling in tips to U.S.
forces about Taliban IEDs.

This demonstration of capacity and shift in public

opinion appears to have provided the Taliban with a
boost on the battle�eld as well. In areas where courts
were operating, the Taliban were able to execute
nearly 70 percent more attacks against U.S. and
government forces, including IEDs. Rather than
violence being a means of taking control to impose
Islamic jurisprudence, the Taliban used courts to win
favor with the public, which allowed for a more
e�ective insurgent war.

Why would Afghans, who are very familiar with

Taliban brutality, be impressed with their justice
system? For one, most people were not themselves
parties to active disputes, instead su�ering collateral
damage from disputes ongoing in their village or
town. Even if they did not agree with the Taliban’s
decision of who should win in a given case, they
were grateful that the matter was �nally resolved.
Importantly, this gave citizens a stake in the Taliban
remaining in�uential or indeed taking full control –
if the former Afghan government were to retake
control, all these land disputes would become
unresolved again as the losers sought
reconsideration within the government courts.

Second, citizens felt that the Taliban’s system was

more legitimately in line with local values,
underpinned by Islamic law, rather than a foreign-
imposed legal regime that sometimes contradicted
their religious values. As put by one disputant:
“Unfortunately, I lost the trial. I am not upset at the
Taliban judges, they judge according to the Shariah,
and I cannot oppose the Shariah.”

At the time of the U.S. withdrawal, the reported

intelligence consensus was that the Kabul
government would fall within 6-12 months. In
practice, the Taliban almost immediately took over
control after U.S. troops were no longer in place to
prop up the regime. Canny observers of Afghanistan
and past rebellions noted that even a perfectly
executed campaign likely would not have prevented
this: Like the Vietnam war, this was a battle of
attrition and resolve, and the Taliban, not foreign
occupiers, would always be willing to keep �ghting
longer.

But even if outside forces are destined to eventually

lose interest, why did the Taliban not face a stanch
rebellion of disa�ected Afghans opposed to their rule
and in favor of the political changes of the past two
decades? During the Taliban’s �rst stint in power in
the 1990s, they faced persistent insurrections from
regional and ethnic armies who refused to submit to
their rule. Today, in contrast, the only consistent
armed opposition the Taliban faces is from the
Islamic State, who are even more extreme
ideologically.

The Taliban’s relatively successful program of justice

provision may have played a role in making the
public ambivalent to their eventual conquest of
Kabul. In survey experiments conducted in late 2020,
as the U.S. withdrawal strategy became clear, more
than 60 percent of Afghans supported peace and
were indi�erent to the Taliban being in control.
Islamic law was more popular than secular law, as
was an “Islamic Emirate” as compared to the existing
“Islamic Republic.”

Taken together, we can understand the population of

Afghanistan as having taken a gamble on peace with
the Taliban, one that was informed in part by the
experience of Taliban informal governance through
rebel courts. After decades of violence, and with just
enough evidence that governance would not
completely disappear, people were willing to accept a
di�cult peace as far superior to ongoing war.

The Author

is assistant professor of Political Science at Emory

University.

The research cited in this piece was co-authored with Austin Wright
(Harris School of Public Policy at The University of Chicago) and Donald
Grasse (Cornell University).
Associated Press, Manish Swarup

Modi will need to set aside some Hindu

nationalist goals to hold on to the support
of his secular allies in government.
By

On June 9, Narendra Modi was sworn in as India’s

prime minister for the third consecutive term. He is
widely perceived to have less authority this time, as
his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)’s tally in Parliament
fell 32 seats short of the majority mark.

As a result, Modi now heads a government heavily

dependent on alliance partners. The latter do not
agree with several items on the BJP’s Hindu
nationalist agenda.

For example, his campaign in the recent general

election was dominated by his allegation that the
opposition INDIA bloc would rob lower caste and
tribal Hindus of their reservation entitlements in
education and jobs, and give these to Muslims. His
party pledged that it would prevent Muslims from
enjoying reservation bene�ts under the Other
Backward Classes (OBC) category.

However, Modi’s government now depends on the

Telugu Desam Party (TDP), which has 16 MPs and has
formed the state government in Andhra Pradesh.
TDP General Secretary Nara Lokesh, the son of party
chief and Andhra Chief Minister N. Chandrababu
Naidu, has made it clear that his party is committed
to continuing the current 4 percent reservation for
Muslims under the OBC list. The TDP would ensure
that no unilateral decisions will be made on
contentious issues like reservation, redrawing of
parliamentary constituency boundaries, and the
Uniform Civil Code (UCC), he said.

Unilateral decisions made on the back of the BJP’s

brute majority in Parliament were the hallmark of
Modi’s rule of the past decade. From demonetizing 86
percent of the country’s cash overnight in his
declared war against black money and criminalizing
the Islamic divorce system of triple talaq to stripping
India’s Jammu and Kashmir state of special
constitutional status and statehood – all these major
decisions were made by the Modi administration
without consulting NDA partners.

Had the BJP got a strong majority this time around,

the party had plans to enforce the UCC to remove the
di�erences in personal laws of di�erent religious
communities. Modi will �nd it di�cult to implement
this plan unless he gets his partners on board.

Other items on the agenda of the Hindu nationalists

are ending the traditional collegium system of
appointments in the judiciary, which many fear
would reduce the judiciary’s independence, and
implementation of the “One Nation, One Election”
system whereby parliamentary, state assembly, and
local body elections will be held simultaneously.

The Modi government has also been accused of

unleashing di�erent federal investigation agencies
on the opposition – either putting its leaders behind
bars or forcing them to join the BJP.

Political observers point out that India’s �rst BJP

Prime Minister, Atal Bihari Vajpayee, toned down the
Hindu nationalist goals to keep the coalition intact.

Hitherto, Modi has not needed to work with or

appease allies. Whether as the Gujarat chief minister
or at the helm of the Indian government, he has
always enjoyed the backing of a strong BJP majority
in the House, which allowed him to exercise his
authoritarian style of governance.

That has now changed.

“Modi will have to carry his allies along. Allies would

want the government and the coalition to follow
policies that do not hurt their constituencies,”
Nilanjan Mukhopadhyay, author of “Narendra Modi:
The Man, The Times,” told The Diplomat.

According to Mukhopadhyay, Modi has never

displayed the skills needed to work as part of a
collective leadership. “He is used to dictating. He
likes to have the spotlight only on him. He now has to
be humble, which he has never been.”

With the BJP’s vote share in the southern states

increasing, it may need to put on the backburner its
plans for a contentious delimitation of parliamentary
constituencies based on the current population.

The current parliamentary seat boundaries are

based on the constituency’s 1971 population. At
present, there is a ban in force on redrawing
parliamentary boundaries, which ends in 2026, when
the government may either lift the ban or keep it in
place.

The southern states are strongly opposed to lifting

the ban, as they have controlled their population
numbers better than the northern states, and will
su�er should electoral boundaries be redrawn. Since
the northern states are more heavily populated, they
will have more seats in Parliament should electoral
boundaries be redrawn.

In the recent general election, the BJP’s popularity in

the north reduced and the south has given it hope for
expansion. BJP veterans who spoke to The Diplomat
said they expect the party to go for the status quo.
Besides, the TDP is from the south and is opposed to
a fresh delimitation of electoral boundaries.

According to Biswanath Chakraborty, a political

scientist at Rabindra Bharati University in Kolkata,
the third Modi government will be di�erent from the
past two avatars structurally and functionally.
Structurally, the government, which has been “a
Modi government so far will transform into an NDA
government,” he told The Diplomat. “Instead of I,
Modi will have to highlight the collective leadership.”

“From a functional perspective, Modi would not be

able to run the kind of centralized administration he
is used to,” Chakraborty said.

Chakraborty expects center-state relations to change.

The Modi government would not be able to make
unilateral decisions or use central investigating
agencies the way it did in the past two terms. He also
anticipates a rise in militancy and terrorist activities
in Kashmir and Manipur. “A weak federal
government has always encouraged forces outside
the democratic system,” he said.
Over the past 10 years, the BJP and the Modi
government have acted systematically to weaken the
opposition parties by engineering defections.

However, their perceived role in engineering the

division of two regional parties, the Nationalist
Congress Party and the Shiv Sena, dealt a major blow
to the NDA’s electoral performance in Maharashtra.
This may prompt the BJP to move more cautiously in
the future while engineering such defections.

The opposition, however, suspects that the BJP would

wait for the right time and opportunity to resume its
poaching of opposition parties to increase its
parliamentary strength and reduce ally-dependency.

In response, opposition parties have decided to keep

Modi under pressure by saying that they will be
waiting for the right time and opportunity to ful�ll
“people’s desire of not to be ruled by the BJP.”

Modi has started his third innings cautiously,

maintaining the status quo in the distribution of
ministerial portfolios. There is no change in
ministers heading key ministries like home, defense,
external a�airs, �nance, education, road transport,
and railways. They will remain with the BJP and
headed by the same ministers as in Modi 2.0.

However, trouble looms. Two BJP allies in

Maharashtra have publicly expressed their
displeasure at ministerial portfolio distribution.
Besides, its most important allies – the TDP and the
Bihar-based Janata Dal (United) or the JD(U) –
bargained hard for the speaker’s post.

The speaker of the Lok Sabha, the lower house of

Parliament, has the power to decide on the
disquali�cation of a member, including for defection.
Opposition parties advised the TDP and JD(U)
leadership to secure the speaker’s post in their own
interest. Opposition parties argued that should these
allies ever think of withdrawing support, the BJP
would try to engineer defections in these parties.
Holding the speaker post will protect the party from
the BJP’s aggression.

In the end, however, the BJP prevailed, with its own

Om Birla re-elected as speaker.

The TDP and the JD(U) have frequently switched

sides. This will keep the BJP on its toes. How Modi
deals with his insecurity and his allies’ lack of trust
in him will de�ne Modi 3.0 to a great extent.

The Author

, the author of two non-�ction books on

India’s ultra-Left and the Hindu right, writes and comments on India’s
politics, environment, human rights and culture.
Armed Forces of the Philippines via Associated Press

Why has China taken such strong actions

against the Philippines, while seemingly
turning a blind eye to major land
reclamations by Vietnam?
By

On June 17, Chinese vessels forcefully blocked a

Philippine resupply mission to its isolated outpost at
Second Thomas Shoal in the Spratly Islands. During
the operation, Chinese personnel on board
motorboats repeatedly rammed and then boarded
two Philippine Navy rigid-hulled in�atable boats in
order to prevent Filipino personnel from
transferring supplies, including �rearms, to the BRP
Sierra Madre, a warship that Manila grounded on the
shoal in 1999. In the ensuing melee, a number of
Filipino navy personnel were wounded, including
one who reportedly lost his right thumb. The
Philippine military likened the action to “brazen act
of aggression” and “an act of piracy.”

The incident marked the culmination of 18 months of

tensions around the shoal, which has now emerged
as the primary �ashpoint in the South China Sea.

While tensions have grown between China and the

Philippines, Vietnam, another nation that disputes
China’s expansive claims in the South China Sea, has
been quietly reinforcing the features under its own
control. In a brie�ng published last month, the Asia
Maritime Transparency Initiative, a part of the
Center of Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in
Washington, reported that Vietnam had “signi�cantly
accelerated” the expansion of its outposts in the
Spratly Islands over the past six months, creating
“almost as much new land as it had in the previous
two years combined.”

The conjuncture raises the question of why China has

taken such strong actions against the Philippines,
while seemingly turning a blind eye to major land
reclamations by Vietnam. As Zack Cooper and
Gregory Poling wrote in a June 18 article for War on
the Rocks, this is a question with potentially far-
reaching implications. They argued that
“understanding the logic behind China’s (lack of)
response is especially critical because it might help
decipher Beijing’s response to future activities.”

In response, the authors adduced four factors to

explain the divergence in treatment. The �rst is
simply that Chinese leaders may wish not to provoke
a second major stando� in the South China Sea – a
judgment that appears to �t with Beijing’s “divide
and rule” approach to the maritime con�icts. The
second is that Vietnam had both the will and the
ability to push back against any Chinese escalation,
which carried the implication that Beijing had
identi�ed the Philippines in general, and its toehold
on Second Thomas Shoal in particular, as a point of
weakness.

Third, Cooper and Poling argued that the di�erence

can be explained by the Philippines’ treaty alliance
with the United States. Finally, they argued that
tensions between Beijing and Hanoi had been
contained by their “longstanding cooperative
relationship.” While the �rst two points are arguably
relevant, these latter two points get closer to the nub
of the issue – and suggest that the periodic stand-o�s
between Vietnam and China, while they carry the
same potential to spark a wider con�ict, are
governed by very di�erent dynamics.

On the �rst point, it is clear that it is the U.S. alliance

has played its role in China’s growing pressure
campaign, in particular, the Philippines’ decision to
strengthen this alliance in response to growing
Chinese aggression in disputed waters. Over the past
two years, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has
expanded U.S. access to Philippine military facilities
and inaugurated joint patrols with the U.S. and other
partners. On numerous occasions, U.S. o�cials have
assured Manila that an armed attack on any
Philippine armed forces, public vessels, or aircraft in
the South China Sea will oblige it to come to the
Philippines’ aid under the two nations’ Mutual
Defense Treaty.

The Vietnamese approach has been very di�erent. As

Khang Vu noted in an article for The Diplomat in
February, where the Philippines has expanded its
cooperation with the U.S. in response to Chinese
pressure, the Vietnamese government has stuck fast
to its nonaligned foreign policy. While Hanoi did
upgrade its relations with Washington to the level of
a comprehensive strategic partnership in September,
this was nestled within diplomatic outreach to China
that culminated in Xi Jinping’s visit to Hanoi two
months later. That visit, conducted against the red-
yellow backdrop of Chinese and Vietnamese �ags,
drove home the point that Vietnam “puts its
relationship with China above that with the U.S.”

Khang argued that there are good reasons for

Vietnam to adopt such a policy, rooted in the
country’s geographic realities. Vietnam, he noted, “is
the only South China Sea claimant sharing a land
border with China and has been a victim of Chinese
bullying by land in the past, in addition to bullying at
sea.” To o�set this geographic handicap and the
associated security vulnerabilities, Vietnam has
adopted a foreign policy rooted in diversi�cation,
with a key note of constant assurance to China – as
embedded in the “Four Nos,” for instance – that
Vietnam will never become an ally of any hostile
foreign power.

“Such con�nement of maritime disputes also

explains why China has not criticized Vietnamese
activities aimed at asserting its maritime claims as
harshly as it has criticized the Philippines,” Khang
argued.

On the last factor mentioned by Cooper and Poling,

this tendency is facilitated and strengthened by the
countless historical, political, and cultural ties that
bind the ruling Communist Party of Vietnam (CPV) to
its counterpart in Beijing. These both create a degree
of shared interest – a joint opposition to U.S.-led
“peaceful evolution” being at the top of the list – and
facilitate a degree of mutual understanding.

In Vietnam’s case, the real risk at present is less a

Chinese attempt to seize Vietnamese-held features in
the Spratly Islands, than the possibility that popular
nationalist sentiment would arise to challenge the
CPV over its more accommodating – some would say
cowardly – approach toward Beijing.

In comparison, the Philippines exists at a greater

remove, beyond the Confucian-Leninist orbit
inhabited by the two communist parties and their
leaders. Instead it has much more cultural and
historical kinship with the United States. (Not for
nothing did Stanley Karnow once liken the Filipino
people to “some kind of lost American tribe that has
somehow become detached from the U.S. mainland
and �oated across the Paci�c.”) The extent to which
Beijing and Manila have been talking past each other
during the ongoing stand-o� over Second Thomas
Shoal o�ers ample evidence of this.

All of this makes it tempting to conclude that the

Philippines’ decision to double down on the U.S.
alliance, albeit unsurprising given the country’s own
history of intimate relations with Washington, is
something of a double-edged sword. The possible
deployment of the U.S. military is a powerful
potential deterrent to China. It also raises the stakes
if China commits an act that unequivocally triggers
the collective defense provisions of the U.S.-
Philippines Mutual Defense Treaty.

At this point, the con�ict over Second Thomas Shoal

would cease to be a maritime dispute between the
Philippines and China, and would become a test of
U.S. resolve. For policymakers in Washington,
especially those of a more hawkish persuasion, the
question of Philippine territorial integrity would be
superseded by the question of maintaining U.S.
primacy in the Western Paci�c. In this con�ict, the
Philippines would �nd itself on the frontlines.

It is unclear whether either Vietnam or the

Philippines could realistically hope to adopt the
other’s approach, given the extent to which they are
shaped and conditioned by their own geographic,
political, and cultural circumstances. For Vietnam,
the confrontational policy of the Marcos
administration, let alone a formal security alliance
with the U.S., is a non-starter.

Likewise, the Vietnamese approach is arguably ill-

suited to the Philippines. Former President Rodrigo
Duterte attempted some version of this, downplaying
the maritime disputes in the interests of good
relations with China (and dollops of Chinese
infrastructure funding). But while this coincided with
a period of relative quiescence in the South China
Sea, it did not stem Chinese incursions into areas
claimed by the Philippines; nor did it seemingly cure
Chinese strategists of their tendency to view the
Philippines as a proxy for the United States.

All of this highlights just how di�cult the Philippine

position in the South China Sea has now become.
While Manila is not responsible for the situation at
Second Thomas Shoal, its move toward the U.S. has
only provoked a stronger Chinese reaction. But to
back down now would be to court capitulation, and
show the leaders in Beijing that aggression can be an
e�ective strategy. As tensions between China and the
U.S. increase, Manila’s space for independent
maneuvering is gradually narrowing.

The Author

is Southeast Asia Editor at The Diplomat.

Wikimedia Commons, mohigan

Reports of arson attacks and the mass

displacement of Rohingya civilians in
western Myanmar are being used as
rhetorical weapons in the country’s civil
war.
By

On May 17, the Arakan Army (AA, now rebranded as

the Arakha Army) captured the town of Buthidaung
in the northern part of Rakhine State in Myanmar’s
west. The next day, large parts of the town had
reportedly burned down.

While the events of May 17-18 are still being pieced

together, they immediately prompted allegations
from Rohingya activists that AA �ghters were
responsible for arson and the forced displacement.
Citing various eyewitness accounts, they claimed that
thousands of Rohingya previously living in
Buthidaung had been left homeless.

Blaming the �res on regime air strikes, the AA has

categorically denied the allegations and doubled
down with strong rebukes. Domestic media
platforms’ coverage has been non-committal at best
while resistance organizations and netizens have
closed ranks to defend the group. Although the
military State Administration Council (SAC) has
intentionally used Buthidaung and the conscription
of Rohingya as a way of weaponizing communal
tensions against the AA, the way the events have
played out, and the way in which anti-regime groups
have reacted, are not encouraging for the country’s
ongoing struggles.

Located 90 kilometers northwest of the Rakhine State

capital, Sittwe, and 20 kilometers east of Maungdaw
on the Myanmar-Bangladesh border, Buthidaung is
the eponymous seat of one of the last remaining
Rohingya majority townships in northern Rakhine. A
2019 government report stated that the entire
township had around 206,000 residents, with 18,000
living in the town proper. It tallied 45,000 Buddhists
and 160,000 Muslims (also termed “Bangladeshi
citizens”) and noted an “emigration” of over 102,000
persons from “the previous year.”

In March and April of this year, the SAC orchestrated

protests in Buthidaung, with Rohingya shown
denouncing the con�ict and the AA. “Protesters”
were coerced by junta forces who reportedly
threatened to burn down their homes. In mid-April,
regime troops and Rohingya conscripts allegedly
started �res that destroyed hundreds of homes
belonging to ethnic Rakhines alongside the facilities
of Doctors Without Borders. Rohingya activists say
that Buthidaung town had swollen with as many as
200,000 displaced Rohingya by mid-May, with many
huddled into government buildings, the main
hospital, and schools.

On May 2, the AA captured the military’s 15th

Military Operations Command (MOC) about �ve
kilometers to the east of Buthidaung across the Mayu
River, the second MOC it had seized after
overrunning the 9th MOC in Kyauktaw in mid-
February. A few days later, junta forces dynamited
the bridge over the Mayu and reportedly reinforced
Buthidaung with Rohingya conscripts. An Indian
news outlet published allegations that nearly 1,700
Buddhists and Hindus in the town were being held
“hostage” by “Islamic terror groups,” a claim
dismissed by Rohingya activists.

On May 17, the AA captured the town.

Rohingya activists and platforms allege that shortly

after seizing the town, AA �ghters ordered all
Rohingya to leave Buthidaung by the morning of May
18. Most refugees reportedly responded that they
could not do so. According to eyewitness accounts
compiled by activists, satellite imagery analyses, and
a tweet from the National Unity Government (NUG)’s
deputy human rights minister and Rohingya activist
Aung Kyaw Moe, �res in the Rohingya areas of
Buthidaung began around 10 p.m. of May 17 and
burned through the night. In addition, at least 35
villages, including those �rmly under the AA’s
control for weeks, reportedly su�ered signi�cant �re
damage, with the widespread pattern said to point
toward an on-the-ground arson campaign.

A survivor reported seeing dozens of dead bodies as

he �ed the town and said that AA �ghters were
allegedly harassing and extorting �eeing Rohingya.
Around 4,000 Rohingya are reported to have �ed to
the Bangladeshi border and thousands as well to
Rohingya-majority Maungdaw, which the AA is now
attacking. Leading Rohingya activists have decried
the AA’s alleged actions in Buthidaung after May 17,
while Rohingya organizations have called for
international pressure on the group.

Furthermore, Rohingya sources have accused the AA

of various cruelties before the events of May 17-18.
They say that the group shelled a school and hospital
in Buthidaung town where Rohingya were
sheltering, resulting in several deaths. The group is
also alleged of being involved in “extra-judicial
killings, mass arrests, forced recruitment and the
displacement of Rohingya.” Earlier accusations
include deliberately targeting Rohingya villages as
well as using them as launchpads and human shields
to draw regime �re.

Such allegations and concerns have grown as the AA

has gained more territory across northern Rakhine
and its leadership has begun using language that
alarmed Rohingya activists.

The AA has categorically and vehemently rejected all

of the allegations and has hit back with strong
ripostes. It stated that it is liberating Rakhine for all
people and termed the accusations as baseless,
countering that false allegations were “betraying
Rakhine State.” The group contends that Buthidaung
was burned by SAC air strikes and accused the
regime and its allies of spreading disinformation.

In one response, it said that its actions were

“misinterpreted by some Muslim diaspora groups as
forced relocations and mass displacement” and that
Rohingya diaspora activists were trying to bring
“particular attention only to the Buthidaung
incident.” It instead called for “balanced attention
and concentration to all the horrible civilian loss of
lives and property across Myanmar, including
Arakan.”

The group has released photos and videos

showcasing its troops assisting Rohingya and
interviews with refugees. The AA said that it is
providing humanitarian aid to around 200,000
internally displaced persons (IDPs) from Buthidaung
and Maungdaw, of which around 80 percent are said
to be Muslims, and later appealed for humanitarian
aid for around 500,000 IDPs. Rakhine news platforms
have repeated the AA’s line on inter-ethnic harmony
and showcased communities co-existing in the
group’s territories. They also called attention to the
burned homes of non-Rohingya in Buthidaung as
well as to other towns bombed by the regime, and
have accused Rohingya militant groups of
collaborating with the regime.

As the Buthidaung allegations emerged, the AA’s

popular leader Twan Mrat Naing urged people “not
to buy any distorted [and] misleading craps [sic]
during this challenging time” and told Rohingya
activists to “stop sel�sh grumpiness” and to abandon
their “misbegotten scheme of creating a separate
Islamic safe zone.” In another rebu�, he wished that
people singing to the tune of international donors
instead of the “contextualized truth” would accept a
�tting political future. His other tweets have alarmed
Rohingya activists, such as defending the use of the
term “Bengali” and patronizingly gloating over the
surrender of forcibly recruited Rohingya.

The AA in turn has accused Rohingya groups,

including militant out�ts, of weaponizing the term
“genocide” and issued a blistering response when
195 anti-regime organizations cited the allegations
and urged the group to protect civilian populations.
It countered that the allegations were one-sided and
accused the signatories of being useful idiots under
the human rights label, demanding the organizations
to clarify their positions. Some groups have since
withdrawn and blamed themselves for “not properly
understanding the situation.”

Complicating the matter is that a number of major

platforms appeared to have used photos of regime-
attributed incidents from other parts of Rakhine in
their articles on the Buthidaung incident. With the
use fake photos a perennial issue in Myanmar’s
con�ict, Rakhine pages and politicians have accused
the platforms as well as activists of deliberately
spreading disinformation. The military has set up
fake Telegram channels, which have aired supposed
Rohingya grievances against the AA and also
circulated a fake NUG press release listing alleged AA
abuses against the Rohingya.

Furthermore, the �uid situation has contributed to

discrepancies, such as the number of Rohingya
reported to have �ed to the Bangladeshi border
originally reported at 45,000 and now revised to
4,000, fueling charges of alarmist language and
exaggeration from Rakhine organizations. Both the
AA and some commentators contend that Rohingya
diaspora activists have maintained a hardline
attitude of distrust toward the group while Rohingya
communities on the ground are purportedly more
supportive.

Beyond the allegations and denials, an interesting

dynamic has emerged over how resistance groups
and platforms have responded to the allegations.
Revolutionary groups, popular news pages, and
netizens are either skirting the issue or rushing to
the AA’s defense while activists’ e�orts to bring
global attention to Buthidaung have been met with
harassment and accusations of being foreign pawns.

Initially, the NUG expressed alarm over the situation

in Buthidaung and said there were “allegations of
large-scale forced displacement of civilians,
particularly Rohingya, the destruction of property,
and the burning of villages.” It soon backtracked on
that particular sentence by issuing a revised
statement that squarely blamed the SAC for stirring
inter-communal con�ict and destroying villages, and
noting that “Rakhine, Rohingya, and Hindu civilians
are being forced to move and their houses are being
burnt.” The NUG’s Acting President Duwa Lashi La
later said that the AA and Rohingya communities
were working together to prevent the tensions from
escalating.

Major and local news platforms known for their

prompt and incisive reportage on regime abuses
either carried sterile reports of Buthidaung’s capture
or parroted the AA’s version of events. While the
events in Myawaddy on the Thai border saw a deluge
of articles and analyses, Buthidaung and the
Rohingya activists’ allegations received muted
coverage among domestic sites, with the quali�cation
that regime internet restrictions hampered
veri�cation. Similarly, analysis and commentary
pages have been non-committal or silent over the
allegations, in sharp contrast to their proli�c
coverage of the con�ict, including regime atrocities
against all communities in northern Rakhine.

Being one of the most potent and successful groups

�ghting the military, the AA is seen as a standard
bearer to be emulated by other resistance groups and
arguably occupies a higher rung on the resistance
popularity ladder than the NUG. As such, many anti-
regime groups, commentators, and netizens are loath
to o�end the AA and have rushed to its defense over
the allegations. Some resistance groups declared that
they stood �rm with the AA, stating that “baseless
conclusions” risked yielding falsehoods. Even those
attempting to point out the allegations do so while
rea�rming their respect and admiration for the
group and its leader. Meanwhile, members of the
Rakhine diaspora protested against the United
Nations, alleging bias, and contend that �xating on
the allegations has only bene�ted the military
regime.

On social media, many netizens have proclaimed that

they stand with the AA over the allegations. The AA’s
supporters see such accusations more as headwinds
from the regime and “jealous groups” as the AA
nears its objectives. Articles that quoted Rohingya
activists about Buthidaung or other incidents were
�ooded with “haha” reactions and angry comments
accusing the platforms or activists of peddling
disinformation, selling out to foreign interests or
being obsessed with the Rohingya. Meanwhile,
Rohingya netizens are swarming AA-a�liated social
media pro�les demanding answers or outright
accusing the AA of being “terrorists just like the
regime.”

Some pro-resistance netizens have partially accepted

the credibility of the allegations surrounding
Buthidaung, and called for the incident to be
contextualized into the broader su�ering of all the
di�erent communities caught up in the civil war.
Others have been outright dismissive, labeling the
allegations as a regime ploy while hurling vitriol at
Rohingya activists, asking why they supposedly kept
quiet when the regime burned other towns. They
also say that it is regime trolls who are stirring online
animus between the communities – something that is
de�nitely at play, but this line is used all too
frequently to de�ect blame.

Resistance groups that signed the petition urging the

AA to protect civilians have been attacked as
“parroting junta narratives,” being driven by donor
money, and acting as “human rights stooges” who are
missing the forest for the trees. Some have even been
accused of “betraying the revolution.”

The SAC cynically coerced Rohingya into the military

to lay a trap for the AA in Buthidaung aimed at
triggering a scorched earth policy built upon
sectarian strife. That said, it was a trap that the AA
knowingly walked into and has made worse with its
rhetoric. Commentators note that the AA has
backtracked on its commitments to the Rohingya
community as its position strengthens in Rakhine.
The group recently asked the NUG to limit its
“interference” in certain matters concerning
Rakhine, a likely reference to the Rohingya issue.
This raises questions about the AA’s Rohingya policy,
which it pledged to reveal upon receiving
international recognition.

The way the anti-regime media landscape has treated

the issue is not encouraging. It re�ects a broader
issue where many platforms and commentators
driven by revolutionary solidarity and opposition to
the SAC act as the stenographers and town criers of
resistance organizations, generally toning down or
avoiding coverage that will cast such groups in a
negative light. Likewise, pro-resistance netizens’
quick reversion to racist language, their fervent
defense of the AA, and the hounding of activists – all
in the name of the revolution’s “bigger picture” – are
worrying behaviors.

Having ruled out negotiations, the AA is now

pressing down on Maungdaw and has vowed to
advance onto Sittwe and Kyaukphyu, all of which
contain signi�cant Muslim (Rohingya and Kaman)
populations con�ned to camps and preyed upon by
the regime’s conscription e�ort. Fresh allegations
have emerged of mass killings, abductions, and
forced recruitment of Rohingya by AA personnel in
both Buthidaung and Maungdaw. One analysis noted
that AA �ghters have conducted acts resembling
collective punishment onto Rohingya communities in
retaliation for the latter’s involvement, voluntary or
otherwise, with the regime’s conscription drive.

The embattled SAC is ramping up atrocities against

Rakhine communities, which, combined with
Rakhine anger at what they perceive as myopic
international �xation on the Rohingya, is only
fueling more communal malice. More recently, the
AA accused regime troops, a collaborationist Rakhine
militia, and Rohingya conscripts of massacring
dozens of ethnic Rakhines in Byine Phyu village
outside of Sittwe. Resistance organizations quickly
condemned the massacre and pledged to help
“pursue justice.” The junta rejected the claim as AA
propaganda, in turn alleging that the AA was using
Byine Phyu to de�ect allegations surrounding
Buthidaung.

As a side note, the Chin and smaller ethnic groups

like the Mro have made a number of allegations
against the AA over the years, including forced
recruitment, forced labor, detentions, extortion, and
the con�scation of meager food supplies. Chin
communities in AA-administered Paletwa Township
in Chin State are reportedly complaining that the AA
has treated local communities “worse” than regime
troops. One activist warned that Chin communities
were tolerating the AA’s abuses to a certain extent as
fellow revolutionaries, but said that the AA needed to
own up to its actions. Adding more concern for
Rakhine’s post-junta future are the mixed pictures
and frictions emerging out of the territories in
northern Shan State now administered by the AA’s
allies.
Although the full details still remain unknown, the
allegations surrounding Buthidaung, Byine Phyu, and
other incidents across Rakhine State warrant
thorough and impartial investigations in order to
help avert perpetual sectarian violence. Whatever
emerges concerning Buthidaung will not change the
fundamental fact that the military is responsible for
the lion’s share of atrocities against di�erent
communities across Myanmar as well as for sowing
and exploiting communal tensions. That said, the
allegations and reactions should also serve as a
sobering reminder for outside observers to temper
their overly-optimistic prognostications of
Myanmar’s future.

The Author

is the pseudonym of a Myanmar-based independent

analyst.
Associated Press, Heng Sinith

The region is home to a thriving and

massively pro�table black market trade in
small arms, many of them sourced from
o�cial military stockpiles.
By and

It’s 1 a.m. in Poipet, a Cambodian town on the Thai

border where the economy runs on casinos, illegal
online gambling, and the now-notorious “pig-
butchering” scams that use forced and tra�cked
labor to reel in victims worldwide. The town’s clubs
and karaoke bars are awash with cocky Chinese
gangsters splashing their cash on expensive liquor
and bags of meth, which is sold openly by bartenders
hovering by the bathrooms.

But at the outdoor tables of a tiny bar by the night

market, overshadowed by an under-construction
compound that locals say will house yet more
Chinese-run scams, four Indonesian members of an
online gambling syndicate are keeping a lower
pro�le. Their “boss” is an unassuming, chain-
smoking Indonesian man in his 30s with just a
smattering of tattoos. But as the empty bottles of
Captain Morgan’s rum pile up, his guard falls, and
out comes the ma�a-don swagger.

“The best thing about living here is that we can do

whatever we want,” he boasts. “We can get a ‘44 for
20,000 baht” – around $540. The boss is referring to
his high-powered 44-caliber revolvers, which he
claims to buy through a middleman who gets them
straight from the Cambodian police – something he
said could never happen back home. In fact, until
they came to Cambodia, the group barely knew how
to handle �rearms; they trained at a shooting range
in Phnom Penh. Here, he explains, lowering the �at
palm of his free hand, the balance of power puts the
easily-bribed police “down here, then us, then the
Chinese” – and his guns are for “going to war” with
these Chinese rivals.

But while the authorities are low priority, police and

soldiers do become targets. Three o�cers were
injured trying to break up a drunken shootout
outside a Poipet casino in 2021, and in 2022, a drug
dealer shot dead two Poipet police. His weapon? A
.44-caliber Magnum Revolver.

Selling weapons to potential enemies sounds like an

absurd act of self-sabotage, but all across Southeast
Asia, state security apparatuses – police, military, and
government – are a primary source of weapons for
criminals and guerrilla �ghters, within their own
borders and beyond. The civil war in Myanmar, the
ongoing separatist insurgency in the south of
Thailand, and the rapid growth of organized crime
groups running the region’s multi-billion-dollar,
human tra�cking-driven online scam industry all
require a steady supply of �rearms and munitions.
Capitalizing on this demand is a lucrative business,
and armed forces have ready access to legal supply.
Throw in high-level corruption and weak control of
inventory, and this makes for a potentially
catastrophic mix.

“The presence of organized crime can act both as a

driver for demand and availability of illicit weapons,
while also directly causing instability and increased
armed violence,” said Llewelyn Jones, the Asia-
Paci�c regional director at MAG International, a
humanitarian organization that specializes in
clearing landmines and unexploded ordnance, as
well as small arms initiatives to prevent weapons
falling into the wrong hands.

States need to be able to record and trace all

domestic and international arms and ammunition
shipments, he said, and to enforce legislation when it
comes to producing and licensing weapons. “It is
widely acknowledged globally that unsecured or
poorly secured stockpiles of small arms and
ammunition are at risk of diversion to the illicit
market, with signi�cant consequences for peace,
security and stability,” Jones added.

In Cambodia, measures like these seem a distant

dream. A steady stream of Telegram, Facebook, and
WhatsApp exchanges seen by The Diplomat detailed
negotiations for black market �rearms including
AK-47s, AR-15s, and Beretta and Glock pistols,
alongside various accessories such as high-capacity
ammunition magazines and suppressors. Sources in
the sector said many of these could only have come
from the armed forces.

In another Telegram group chat, police discussed

how, just one week after a delivery of assault ri�es
and pistols to the counterterrorism unit in Phnom
Penh in August 2023, one of these new semi-
automatic ri�es turned up in a raid on a Chinese
criminal gang in Sihanoukville. Yet another video
showed a recently seized AK-47, with the police strap
still attached to the gun.

Often, military and police units simply falsify the

number of �rearms procured legitimately and then
sell o� the unregistered surplus through personal
networks or social media, explained “Z,” a
Cambodian military o�cer who asked that his
identity be protected.

We met Z, as per his request, at a beachfront trans

hostess bar in the crime-ridden casino city of
Sihanoukville, where heavily tattooed Chinese and
Taiwanese gangsters were shouting to hear each
other above the clamor of mini-dressed waitresses
singing “Happy Birthday” to a small child. Z was in
civilian clothes, but brought his Glock pistol – as had
at least one other patron, who �ashed it accidentally
at the bar while fumbling in his sling-bag for his
wallet.

Shielded by the chaos, Z explained how his superiors

required him to assist in the sale of arms from his
unit to criminal groups, and had also arranged for
him to act as private security for high-ranking
Chinese and Korean crime bosses. The role brought
in extra income for Z and his unit commanders,
while providing these crime �gures with a
bodyguard who can openly carry a weapon, which
only serving members of the armed forces are legally
allowed to do. (The Cambodian government o�cially
banned the outsourcing of Royal Cambodian Armed
Forces for private security roles in 2019, but the rule
is widely ignored).

A casino in Poipet, a town on the Cambodia-Thailand border, as seen on

March 27, 2018.

Photo 123072901 © Tikhonova Vera | Dreamstime.com

Z also alleged that the cross-border arms trade

between Cambodia and Thailand is dominated by the
elite Tea family, headed by Tea Banh, the former
long-time defense minister, and his brother, Tea Vinh,
commander of the navy. Tea Banh’s son Seiha was
governor of Siem Reap before taking over as defense
minister in 2023. Tea Vinh’s son, Vichet, holds the
honori�c title of Oknha and has a string of high-
pro�le business interests along the Cambodian coast,
including yacht and ferry services in Sihanoukville
and Koh Kong. His other son, Sokha, is deputy
commander of the navy, and his daughter Leakhena
is a navy colonel.
Past investigations suggest the Tea brothers used
their political in�uence to accumulate swathes of
land along Cambodia’s coast, including concessions
cut out of supposedly protected forest, and allege
ongoing involvement in illegal logging going back
decades. Tea Vinh was sanctioned in 2021 by the U.S.
government, which accuses him of corruption and
skimming funds from the Chinese-funded
refurbishment of the Ream Naval Base, close to
Sihanoukville.

According to Z, guns and �rearms parts are brought

in through ports on Cambodia’s south coast and
either assembled in Cambodian factories or sent
directly overland into Thailand, and onward to
Myanmar. This was backed up in February this year,
after our interview took place, when a signi�cant
cache of weapons was seized o� the coast of
Thailand’s Trat province, en route from Cambodia.
Several M16 and AK-47 assault ri�es and over 1,500
rounds of ammunition were found in what Thai
authorities called weapons of war possibly heading
for ethnic armed groups in Myanmar.

While we could not independently verify Z’s claims

that the Teas control much of the Cambodia-Thailand
small arms tra�c, Thai media sources have long
accused the Cambodian Defense Ministry – headed
�rst by Tea Banh and now by his son – of direct
involvement in cross-border arms tra�cking. In
2017, three Thai nationals (including an air force
o�cer and police lieutenant) were charged alongside
a Cambodian immigration o�cer, related by
marriage both to Tea Banh and then-Koh Kong
governor Bun Leut, for transporting a cache of
AK-47s, machine guns, and other munitions by truck
from Cambodia’s Koh Kong province into Thailand,
which Thai authorities believed were destined for
Karen rebels in Myanmar.

The following year, Thai police arrested another man

smuggling an assortment of Chinese-built, Type-95
assault ri�es, M16s, and various M16 components
along this same route. The Defense Ministry, then
headed by Tea Banh, responded with the bizarre
claim that these could not have come from Cambodia
as there were none in the country. Cambodian
shooting ranges at the time o�ered civilians the
opportunity to shoot M16s, and the prime minister’s
own Bodyguard Unit carried Type-95s.

Meanwhile, in southern Thailand, Muslim insurgents

�ghting for an independent state also cite the
Cambodian military as a major source of small arms.

“Most of our weapons are AK-47s. If they are AKs

then they are from Cambodia,” said Ayu, the nom-de-
guerre of a senior �gure in the Pattani United
Liberation Organization, one of several groups
�ghting for autonomy in Thailand’s Deep South.

Speaking to us at a hotpot restaurant in Patani, Ayu

claimed to have a “very good connection” with a
regional army commander in Cambodia, who helps
him negotiate weapons sales. Ayu was unwilling to
identify his contact, but his claim about AK-47s rings
true. In 2021, an immigration o�cer in Cambodia’s
northwestern province of Battambang was arrested
for attempting to smuggle, among other weapons, 50
AK-47s across the land border into Thailand.
However, according to Ayu, who claimed to have
built up a “network in the sea” with Cambodian
o�cials, most weapons destined for Thailand’s Deep
South are smuggled across the sea in �shing boats.

“The authorities in Cambodia – those guys are just

really involved in the business of tra�cking,” echoed
Boonsak Butnean, an ex-lieutenant commander in
the Royal Thai Marines, who served as platoon leader
of the Underwater Demolition Assault Unit, part of
the Naval Special Warfare Command. But the �ow of
small arms from Cambodia is only one strand in a
complex transnational network. “We have weapons
moving around Thailand from the south, and from
Cambodia. These weapons are moving to the west
side, to Myanmar,” he said.

Another major problem in the south of Thailand is

ammunition smuggled over the southern border by
Malay soldiers, said Maj. Gen. Narim Busaman, a
police commander for Pattani province. “Just looking
at the bullet, we know if it’s from Malaysia,” he
explained at a meeting inside the police HQ in
Pattani. Much like their Cambodian counterparts,
Narim claimed that Malaysian army o�cials
deliberately underreport the number of bullets left at
a camp and take the rest away to smuggle. “They put
bullets in their pockets to sell. It’s not really di�cult,”
he said.

But the Thai authorities are hardly blameless either,

said Narim. While Thais can legally own guns, the
police and military have better guns, and this access
to high-grade weaponry leads to frequent, direct
involvement in organized crime. Local criminal
groups mostly use shotguns, said Narim – unless they
have connections to police. “Publicly, many people
are police and army but privately they are ma�a,” he
added. “They are ma�a with ri�es.”

For Boonsak, trying to disrupt illicit tra�cking

networks like these almost cost him his life.

“Bad guys are everywhere. We have army bad guys,

police bad guys, water police bad guys,” he said,
adding that corrupt actors are even embedded
throughout the agencies designed to �ght them.

As a lieutenant commander in the Thai navy, he was

largely stationed on the Mekong River, including in
one of the world’s busiest transnational tra�cking
zones: the Golden Triangle, where the borders of
Thailand, Myanmar, and Laos intersect. Corruption
and bribe-seeking here are rife, but Boonsak said
that he refused to be bought. At �rst, he said, this was
simply an irritation for his colleagues in the police,
who would try to “trick” him into patrolling one area
while they arranged an illegal shipment in another.
But when he began making major seizures, the
situation turned ugly.

“If my work is a success, that is bad for them,” he

explained. “They already arranged everything. They
already paid all the way to Bangkok, every guy along
the way. So if one guy is arrested in one province,
then all the money is lost, and they will get nothing.
That makes people angry!“

The death threats began rolling in, said Boonsak.

Then he discovered a 100,000 baht ($2,700) reward
was on o�er to anyone willing to kill him. This was
the �nal straw for Boonsak, who decided to quit the
navy altogether. The worst part, he said, was that
“the bounty was placed by a government o�cer. Not
the guy you think is a bad guy, but the guy you think
is a good guy!”

Complicating the situation further in Thailand are its

“Volunteer Defense Forces”: armed civilian groups
authorized by the government to defend volatile
border areas from insurgents and tra�ckers,
especially on the Malaysia border in the Deep South
and the Myanmar border in Tak province. On a night
patrol with one volunteer defense force in Mae Sot,
across the river from Myawaddy in Myanmar,
members of the group explained that, despite no
formal training, they had been tasked with
monitoring illegal crossings, smugglers, and any
other spillover from the con�ict into Thai territory –
essentially, picking up the slack where a police
presence or border security was lacking.

To do this, each volunteer was granted a license to

buy multiple �rearms, and in Mae Sot, the group of
20 or so young men had leapt at the opportunity,
brandishing high-end assault ri�es, some with
expensive modi�cations, and military-grade,
bulletproof Kevlar vests. Once their license was
issued, they said, they could buy as many guns and as
much ammunition as they wanted, with no further
checks. There is little to stop these volunteers, or
serving police and military, from selling on their
easily-acquired guns, especially over the border to
Myanmar. Once out of the country, there is scant
chance these weapons will be traced back.

In 2021, Thai Customs o�cers seized 27 guns and

50,000 rounds of ammunition from smugglers
attempting to cross into Myanmar from Mae Sai, on
the northern border with Shan State. The majority
were “welfare guns” – �rearms that can be bought by
members of the government, police, or military
legally and at a discounted rate. O�cials warn that
the scheme allows weapons to easily end up on the
black market.
A group of Thai soldiers wearing masks stand in line for military training at
an unknown location, January 11, 2022.

Photo 238669814 © Patchamon Thainmanee | Dreamstime.com

In Mae Sot, two ethnic Burmese members of the

volunteer group admitted taking their Thai-issued
weapons across the border to �ght for stretches with
rebel groups and ethnic armed organizations (EAOs),
�ghting junta forces in Myanmar’s civil war. Joining
the resistance is one thing, but as one volunteer
guard, nicknamed Jay, explained, his role in the
militia involved laying makeshift anti-personnel
landmines, a major breach of the Mine Ban
Convention, which Thailand signed in 1997. What’s
more, Jay explained, Thai generals in the area had,
on occasion, instructed him to drive truckloads of
military weapons across the border to supply the
rebel groups – and while his own motivations were
ideological, he was keenly aware that theirs were
purely �nancial.

Jay’s trips are just the tip of the iceberg. Accusations

that the Thai military is the core supplier of weapons
used by EAOs in Myanmar have become so
widespread that Thailand’s army chief had to
publicly deny that the majority of weapons ending
up in Myanmar originate from Thai military
stockpiles.

Despite being on opposite sides of the decades-long,

bloody civil war in Thailand’s south, the insurgent
Ayu claims some Thai security forces have provided
guns even to his group. “Yes, the Thai armed forces,
the military, have sold us weapons,” he said. At the
same time, he said, there are many ways to get guns
from authorities – purchasing them, stealing them, or
just snatching them after a �re�ght. “Many guns we
get we steal from the body of an o�cial after we
attack them,” he said.

In fact, Maj. Gen. Narim Busaman believes that the

real danger of armed groups getting their hands on
weapons doesn’t come from o�cials handing them
over willingly, but from robberies from o�cial
stores. It’s a view shared by the United Nations O�ce
on Drugs and Crime, which highlighted the risks of
countries holding on to weapons stockpiles in a 2020
report.

“Independently of the presence of con�ict, holdings

of �rearms by military and law enforcement
agencies can constitute a risk of diversion and can
increase supply if the adequate measures are not in
place to ensure proper inventory management,
storage, transportation and disposal and to safeguard
against leakage through theft or corruption,” said
Llewelyn Jones.

“It is normal for us to �nd M16 weapons,” said the

major general. “Many weapons were stolen or ripped
o� an o�cer who [the insurgents] shot.”

A similar situation took place in Vietnam in 2023,

when a crowd of people from marginalized ethnic
minority groups attacked two police buildings in the
Central Highlands province of Dak Lak, resulting in
the deaths of nine people. Vietnamese authorities
claim the goal was, in part, to steal weapons and
ammunition from police stations. More than 90
people were put on trial earlier this year for the
attack, and 23 guns, 1,199 bullets, plus grenades and
other explosive devices, were seized.

This vulnerability of weapons stores to attack and

theft makes it even more concerning that local
factories producing guns and ammunition have
cropped up in Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia, and
Myanmar. Many operate in legal gray areas, without
proper oversight or adherence to international
standards, and with no accounting or transparency
measures to ensure weapons aren’t being siphoned
o� for sale on the black market, or traded with
countries in breach of embargoes.

“International law does not prohibit countries from

starting their own domestic arms manufacturing
capabilities. But it does impose obligations on how
those arms are used, particularly when exported
abroad,” said Dr. Tomas Hamilton, an expert in arms
expert regulation with Guernica 37 Chambers, a
specialist group of international criminal and human
rights lawyers. “Those rules would also be
particularly relevant when states are producing
weapons domestically, which are then legitimately
exported to a foreign military or security force, but
then unlawfully directed into other hands.”

In Myanmar, rebels �ghting against the junta since

2021 have had to improvise. Gun activists and
enthusiasts, often based in the United States, share
knowledge on how to create 3D printed guns, and
some EAOs have run with it. The entirely 3D printed
FGC-9, 9mm semi-automatic pistol, which can be
modi�ed into a carbine style ri�e, has already seen
extensive use in Myanmar’s civil war. It’s a useful �x
– for now. Later, this proliferation of weapons may
prove hard to manage or control.

“Comparatively to other regions in which we operate,

MAG has had less direct access to stockpiles in
Southeast Asia. Often, we conduct technical
assessments jointly with national security sector
actors and make recommendations on speci�c areas
of improvement, but this is something we have not
yet done in this region,” said Jones. “An increase in
the number of weapons and munitions facilities
inevitably leads to associated risk.”

Poorly managed stockpiles and makeshift factories

can result in tragic consequences. In April of this
year, 20 soldiers were killed in a series of explosions
in Cambodia’s Kampong Speu province – the �rst
blast so intense it damaged houses and part of a
factory over a kilometer away. The Cambodian
government described this as an ammunition
explosion at a military base, and put the accident
down to an exceptionally bad heatwave, combined
with faulty munitions. The base was described a
collection of storage facilities combined with a “work
facility” – although it is unclear if munitions were
simply stored there, or if any parts were assembled
on site.

But disasters like these are a high risk in countries

hell-bent on keeping weapons production and
trading hidden from outside eyes. Back in
Sihanoukville last year, Z warned that �rearms parts
were already being smuggled into the country
through ports in Sihanoukville and nearby Ream,
and assembled into functional weapons in secretive,
small-scale factories. One of these makeshift
munitions factories was, he said, hidden in a
warehouse behind the naval training academy,
which we tracked down directly next to the Ream
Naval Base, which is closely connected to the Teas.
Meanwhile, a purported tourism development
slightly further along the coast was, he said, a front
for a weapon parts depot used to supply the factory.

Both locations, according to Z and others in the area,

belonged to the Tea family. When we attempted to
visit the depot, which was billed as a resort, security
blocked our access to the site, claiming the new road
was still underway. However, satellite images of
newly constructed buildings on the site appeared to
show warehouses resembling the suspected Ream
factory, rather than a hotel. The munitions factory is
since said to have been packed up and moved to
Kampong Speu.

Cambodia doesn’t seem likely to scale back its central

role as a regional arms trader any time soon.

“Imports from Cambodia are more than what we get

from killing o�cials,” said Ayu, the hard-bitten
insurgent, through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “They
are always ready to send us weapons – and other
people in this area need weapons too.”

The Authors

is an investigative journalist and �lmmaker, and

the director of the research consultancy TePonui Media. Her work
primarily explores tra�cking, human rights violations, and
environmental crime.

is an investigative reporter and non-

traditional security specialist with a focus on transnational organized
crime, security, tra�cking and the intersection between criminality
and governance.
Associated Press, Manman Dejeto

The war of words between the Duterte and

Marcos clans has made the former
president an unlikely – and unconvincing –
champion of free expression.
By

Former Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte has

warned against the deterioration of freedom of
expression under the government of Ferdinand
“Bongbong” Marcos Jr.

After a planned rally was canceled in Tacloban City

on May 25, Duterte issued a public statement
blaming “the forces of darkness that threaten not
only our rights to express our grievances but the
very existence of our nation.”

He accused his successor of sabotaging the rally,

whose speakers included not only himself but his
close allies as well. “As part of the Marcos
administration’s policy of sti�ing peaceful dissent,
they are doing everything to prevent this rally from
happening,” Duterte added.

The former president claimed that dissent was

tolerated during his term. “I was city mayor for 22
years and president for six years but I never, never
ever prevented anyone from exercising his or her
right to peacefully assemble,” he said.

Duterte minced no words in describing the state of

the nation. “Freedom of expression is very important
and even more so now when there is no
transparency, accountability, peace and security in
our country. It is a sad day for Philippine democracy,”
he said.

Tacloban is the bailiwick of the Romualdez clan,

whose matriarch is Imelda Marcos, the mother of the
incumbent president and former �rst lady during the
Martial Law dictatorship.

Duterte insinuated that local Romualdez o�cials had

a hand in the cancellation of the activity. The city
government has denied this and pointed out that a
typhoon disrupted many events, including the
planned rally.

Perhaps Duterte and his camp had already noticed a

disturbing pattern. On May 7, the venue of Duterte’s
rally in Dumaguete City was moved twice after
permits were revoked at the last minute. On April 28,
Duterte’s rally in Bustos, Bulacan was abruptly
canceled.

Davao City Mayor Sebastian “Baste” Duterte, son of

the former president, expressed disgust over the
cancellation of the assembly in Bulacan.

“This will not silence us but rather this will inspire us

even more to continue to �ght for transparency,
accountability, and against any form of oppression by
this current administration. We shall continue to
protect the constitution,” the mayor wrote on his
Facebook page.

Since January, the Dutertes have been attending

monthly “prayer rallies” aimed at mobilizing public
opposition to the charter change proposal put
forward by Marcos’ allies. The elder Duterte said that
the constitutional amendment bill is a ploy to extend
Marcos’ term, which ends in 2028.

These “prayer rallies” have become controversial

because of the presence of politicians and
prospective candidates in the 2025 midterm election,
and also because of Duterte’s tirades against Marcos,
whom he has repeatedly accused of being a drug
addict. At one point, Duterte’s son even called for the
president to resign.

Despite this “word war,” the Dutertes and Marcoses

are still allies in the ruling coalition. Duterte’s
daughter is the country’s vice president and is
concurrently education secretary in the Marcos
Cabinet.

Duterte’s critical remarks against the leadership of

Marcos could signal the worsening rift between the
two in�uential political dynasties. The tension might
turn into an open split that could divide the ranks of
the ruling party ahead of the midterm polls next
year.

Duterte may have a valid basis for decrying the state

of freedom or unfreedom in the country, but he lacks
the credibility to be a champion of free speech.
During his presidency, he consistently attacked the
press for its critical coverage of the government’s
brutal “war on drugs.” He supported the closure of
the country’s largest media broadcaster while
enabling the rise of social media in�uencers who
peddled disinformation against state critics. He
demonized activists, red-tagged civil society groups,
and criminalized the work of human rights
defenders. In early May, the Supreme Court issued a
landmark ruling that identi�ed red-tagging as a
threat to a person’s life, security, and liberty.

Marcos could claim that his government is merely

continuing the policies of his predecessor. But that
does not excuse the human rights abuses and
restrictions imposed on the local population. Media
watchdogs have recorded around 135 incidents of
attacks and threats against journalists under the
Marcos presidency.

In other words, both Duterte and Marcos are guilty of

weaponizing laws that eroded the country’s civic
space. It is therefore absurd for Duterte to complain
about state harassment when he is in many ways
responsible for normalizing repression in the
bureaucracy.

As an Inquirer editorial correctly pointed out,

Duterte’s statement about government intolerance is
“empty rhetoric by a person who craves the attention
he once enjoyed.”

“He is the last person in the Philippines who can

claim fealty or allegiance to the right of the people to
free expression within the bounds of the law,” the
editorial added.

Indeed, there are worrying signs today about the

continuing hardships faced by the media in ful�lling
their duty and the legal barriers that undermine the
work of people’s organizations. But when opposition
forces push back against tyranny, they demand
accountability not just from Marcos but also from
Duterte as well.
The Author

is a regular commentator for The Diplomat. He

previously served for two terms in the House of Representatives in
the Philippines representing the youth sector.
Photo 28909910 © Xing Wang | Dreamstime.com

Some Vietnamese nationalists view Phnom

Penh’s decision to press ahead with a
controversial canal project as a sign of
ingratitude.
By and

On May 20, Vietnam’s Ambassador to Cambodia

Nguyen Huu Tang was summoned by Cambodian
Foreign Minister Sok Chenda Sophea, to discuss a
rash of online criticisms of Hun Sen, the former
prime minister and president of the Senate. The
meeting followed Hun Sen’s earlier complaints about
the “shocked” comments of Vietnamese TikTok users,
who berated him for his resolve to move forward
with the country’s controversial Funan Techo Canal
project. At the cringeworthy meeting, Sok Chenda
Sophea asked his Vietnamese counterpart to track
down and punish the plotters behind the derogatory
comments about Hun Sen.

The summons was used by Cambodia to convey a

plain message: that compromise on online name-
calling is not an option. “If the Vietnamese side
decides to cooperate well with us,” Touch Sokhak,
spokesperson of Cambodia’s Ministry of Interior,
said, “it will demonstrate the Vietnamese side also
wants to �nd out who the perpetrators are, where
they come from, and what their intentions and goals
really were.” This seems to suggest that Phnom Penh
will view any idleness on Hanoi’s part as either
malicious or deliberate.

The diplomatic summons in response to as trivial an

issue as o�ensive online comments was perplexing,
but it could be read as a subtle reprisal for Hanoi’s
publicly expressed concerns about the Funan Techo
Canal project, in particular, its request for the
“equitable sharing” of information about the project
and careful evaluation of its potential ecological
impacts. Phnom Penh has consistently called the
project its “domestic matter” and has announced
plans to begin construction in August.

The predictable impact has been to strain diplomatic

relations between the two neighbors. Hun Sen
recently asserted that “Cambodia is not inferior to
Vietnam” and that “Cambodia knows how to protect
its interests; Vietnam does not need to interfere.” His
son, Prime Minister Hun Manet, has used this
framing to question the “unfair treatment of
Cambodia by foreign entities” that are seeking to
“interrogate” his government.
This is not the �rst time the two countries have faced
such tensions in their relationship. In a Facebook
post, Hun Sen recalled being tarnished by
Vietnamese social media users in 2016-2017
regarding his statements over the South China Sea
issue. In June 2016, Hun Sen insisted that he would
“not support” the international arbitration case
initiated by the Philippines against China’s claims
over the disputed sea.

Despite Phnom Penh’s request, Hanoi has done little

to curb the online criticisms of Cambodia’s
government. Vietnam’s Foreign Ministry did not
issue an o�cial statement until three days after the
summons. Even then, it simply stated that both
countries have taken “practical and e�ective
measures” to raise public awareness of their
relationship but failed to provide details of any
concrete measures to address the issue, thus
threatening to increase the frictions between the two
governments.

Underlying the current diplomatic stand-o� is a

complex and fraught historical relationship.
Vietnamese o�cial discourse has generally framed
its ties with Cambodia in terms of the politics of
gratitude. Remembering Vietnam’s sacri�ces during
the overthrow of the Khmer Rouge in early 1979,
which led to the installation of the current party in
power, has been a common theme in state discourse
and media reporting. Rhetoric suggesting that
“Cambodia is grateful to Vietnam” is most pervasive
on the annual anniversary of the topping of the
Khmer Rouge on January 7. Gratitude is intrinsically
tied to a sense of “indebtedness,” perpetuating a
cycle where reciprocal acts are expected from the
Cambodians.

Accordingly, Cambodia is frequently accused of being

“ungrateful” when it goes against Vietnam’s wishes.
Many Vietnamese see Cambodia’s dogged pursuit of
the Funan Techo Canal as an expression of its
ingratitude toward Vietnam, and claim that
Cambodia is “biting the hand that feeds it.” Extreme
nationalists have even gone so far as to call for
“punishments” against Cambodia for its “betrayal.”
The rise of social media only increases the likelihood
that such divisive narratives may in�ltrate
Cambodian society and exacerbate nationalistic
tensions.

From the moment the infrastructure project was

announced, the Vietnamese public’s views of
Cambodia have been fraught with skepticism. This
has been fueled by extensive speculation, including
by the Vietnam-based Oriental Research
Development Institute, about the canal’s potential
military use by China. This argument rests entirely
on the views of unnamed “military experts” cited in
the piece, but it has both worried the Vietnamese
public and exasperated Cambodian o�cials and
media outlets. A Cambodian researcher even wrote
that Vietnam was seeking to counterbalance Chinese
in�uence in Cambodia by courting Washington’s
attention amid the China-U.S. rivalry.

None of this is good for the Vietnam-Cambodia

relationship, and historical resentments could
resurface if this conundrum is not properly
navigated. Many Cambodians view Vietnam as a
“traditional enemy” that has long plotted to “absorb”
Cambodia. The notion of Vietnamese “expansionism”
remains alive in Cambodian historical memory and
political culture, as does the claim that Hanoi has a
“secret agenda” in Phnom Penh. Hence, Hanoi’s lack
of action to address Vietnamese netizens’ criticisms
of Hun Sen could be seen by Cambodians as a
calculated e�ort to get Cambodia to bend to its will.
There was a precedent where some Cambodians
believed Hanoi held back on border demarcation in
response to Phnom Penh withholding its diplomatic
support for Vietnam’s stand on the South China Sea
issue.

By responding too forcefully to the canal project,

Vietnam also risks a self-ful�lling prophecy by
pushing Cambodia into China’s arms. Just four days
after summoning the Vietnamese ambassador, Sok
Chenda Sophea visited China, where his Chinese
counterpart Wang Yi rea�rmed Beijing’s support for
the “transportation, logistics, and irrigation systems”
of the “strategically important Funan Techo Canal”
while pledging to deepen the bilateral
“comprehensive strategic cooperation.”

Vietnam now has few good options, as Hun Manet,

unlike his father, no longer feels burdened with
historical gratitude for the liberation of Phnom Penh
in 1979. Instead, the new prime minister is seemingly
committed to diluting Vietnam’s in�uence in
Cambodia. On May 30, Hun Manet announced the
construction of the canal would begin in August, as
procrastination would cause “a lot of speculation.”
He added, “We will not let the naysayers tell us this is
not possible.”

In this way, he is seeking to leverage Cambodian

nationalism to bolster the new government’s
legitimacy. In times of intense anti-Vietnamese
sentiments, Cambodian leaders tend to adopt a
harder line on Vietnam. When the Cambodian
People’s Party (CPP) lost public support at the 2013
election, the Hun Sen government urged Hanoi to
stop its “encroachment” on Cambodian land and play
along with the opposition party, the Cambodia
National Rescue Party, which blasted the CPP for
bowing to Vietnam’s in�uence.

With hypernationalism sweeping Vietnamese social

media, Hanoi runs the danger of alienating its
“traditional friendship” with Phnom Penh if its
public diplomacy remains vague. When the two
neighbors are at odds over competing interests, the
only way to reach mutual consensus is for them to be
sincere and committed in their behaviors.

But things are looking gloomy. Vietnamese citizenry

are mostly unaware that Cambodia is a “high
priority” for Vietnamese foreign policymakers,
leading to confusion and even misconduct,
particularly when bilateral ties are strained.
Moreover, while a Department of Vietnamese Studies
was established at the Royal University of Phnom
Penh in 2022, a similar Department of Cambodian
Studies is yet to be established at any Vietnamese
university. What is more worrisome is the lack of
essential initiatives to educate young Vietnamese
about cultural and historical ties that shape the
bilateral relationship.

This “Cambodia vacuum” in Vietnam’s discourse and

academia needs �xing since e�ective public
diplomacy relies on educating the public about the
country’s foreign policy goals in a clear and concise
manner. Instead of simply leaning on the bland
slogan “good neighbors, traditional friendship,
comprehensive, long-lasting, sustainable
cooperation,” Hanoi should mitigate unwarranted
pique among the populace through a well-thought-
out strategy that prioritizes intimate ties with Phnom
Penh. This requires Vietnamese and Cambodian
o�cials, businesses, and citizens to engage in
meaningful dialogues that encompass language,
culture, and academia, if they are to improve mutual
understanding and sympathy.

The views expressed here are of the authors and do not

re�ect the o�cial stance of their a�liated institutions.
The Authors

is a lecturer of the faculty of international relations

and research fellow of the Center for International Studies at the
University of Social Sciences and Humanities, Vietnam National
University, Ho Chi Minh City.

is a research assistant at HCM-USSH and a core

member of the university’s “IR Young Scholars” (IRYS) research club.
ID 274433142 © Chaoss | Dreamstime.com

A recent agreement sketches out the

framework for the long-discussed railway
to proceed, but many of the �nancing
details remain unclear.
By

Kyrgyz President Sadyr Japarov may have jumped

the gun when he announced in early May that
construction of the China-Kyrgyzstan-Uzbekistan
(CKU) railway would begin in October. But recent
developments do markedly advance the project. On
June 6, in a virtual ceremony hosted by China,
Japarov, President Xi Jinping of China, and President
Shavkat Mirziyoyev of Uzbekistan signed a trilateral
intergovernmental agreement on the CKU railway
that, for the �rst, time hints at a framework to realize
the route.

But for all the fanfare, and despite the publicized

details, much remains uncertain about the �nancing
and impact of the project.

The announcement of the agreement was heavy on

optimism and light on details. Per a Chinese Foreign
Ministry readout, the signing “will provide a solid
legal basis for the construction of the project,
marking the transition of the railway project from a
vision to reality, and demonstrating to the
international community the �rm determination of
the three countries to promote cooperation and seek
development together.” The CKU railway is
positioned, in the Chinese readout, as “a strategic
project” and “a landmark project of Belt and Road
cooperation.”

A few days later, the Kyrgyz parliament published the

agreement and on June 18, Azamat Sakiev, the head
of Kyrgyz Railways, spent two hours answering
questions from lawmakers. While there’s no
contesting the agreement is concrete progress, there
seems to be much yet in need of settling before tracks
can be laid.

The agreement, which the Kyrgyz parliament

approved in three simultaneous readings at once on
June 19, contains 13 sections, which are
characterized as con�rming the “intentions of
cooperation and determine measures to support”
construction of the project. Importantly, the
document notes the railway will run on the
“Kashgar-Torugart-Makmal-Jalalabad-Andijan” route.

The route charts north from Kashgar and crosses

from China’s Kizilsu Kyrgyz Autonomous Prefecture
in Xinjiang through the Torugart Pass, which cuts
through the Tian Shan mountains at 3,752 meters
(12,310 feet). The railway will then head northwest to
Makmal – home to what was at one point in time the
largest gold mine in the Soviet Union. From there, the
railway will cut southwest toward the Kyrgyz city of
Jala-Abad and then west toward Andijan in
Uzbekistan. Much of this route is extraordinarily
remote; the Torugart Pass is one of only two border
crossings between Kyrgyzstan and China.

China’s National Development and Reform

Commission (NDRC) and the Kyrgyz and Uzbek
transport ministries are responsible for coordinating
the agreement’s implementation. But the real work –
in the areas of commerce, technology, �nancing,
engineering construction, operation, and so on – falls
to the three national railways.

While China is responsible for construction on

Chinese territory and Uzbekistan for modernization
of its own railways, when it comes to Kyrgyzstan –
where the bulk of the work will take place – a Joint
Project Company will be established. China will hold
a controlling 51 percent stake in the company, and
Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan 24.5 percent each.
Kyrgyzstan is speci�cally responsible for “the timely
implementation of work to assess social and
environmental impact, protect cultural monuments,
ensure safety, as well as for work on land acquisition,
demolition of facilities, and resettlement of land plots
required for this project, at its own expense.”

Furthermore, Article 9 of the agreement obligates

Kyrgyzstan to provide support and “convenient
conditions” in land for construction, building
materials, electricity and water supplies, as well as
visa exemptions for Chinese and Uzbek personnel.
The Kyrgyz side also agreed to release “construction
machinery, equipment, mechanisms, vehicles,
construction and other materials necessary” from
customs duties and tax payments.

The Chinese side also has dibs on the execution of

engineer, procurement and construction work –
Krygyz and Uzbek entities may participate in “partial
subcontracting work.”

The agreement signed on June 6 has a term of �ve

years, with an automatic renewal unless one of the
parties in forms the others of its intent to exit.

Importantly, the agreement signed contains no

�gures for the cost of construction or expected
revenues. It does not specify the scale or pace of
construction, either, or lay out how Kyrgyzstan will
go about acquiring the land and managing expected
public protests on account of environmental
concerns.

In his testimony, Kyrgyz Railways head Sakiev

provided additional details, though journalists noted
that some of the numbers don’t quite add up. Sakiev
said construction would cost $4.7 billion; other
estimates, such as from chairman of the Cabinet of
Ministers Akylbek Japarov have been as high as $8
billion.

Sakiev said that the Chinese government had pledged

a $2.35 billion low-interest loan and Uzbek media
reported that the remaining amount would be
�nanced by the three parties in accordance to their
share – �oating $573 million as the bill for both
Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan. But Sakiev said that
Kyrgyzstan would have to cover $700 million, and
when an MP mentioned that Kyrgyzstan would be on
the hook for closer to $1 billion during the hearing
Sakiev did not challenge it.

Kyrgyz o�cials have said that the country expects to

earn up to $200 million annually from the transit of
goods alone.

The agreement does not speci�cally lay out the

�nancing plan, meaning it remains one of the topics
to be settled between the three governments.

Another point of opacity is exactly how many tunnels

and bridges will need to be constructed in
Kyrgyzstan to realize the railway. Kyrgyzstan’s
o�cial news agency Kabar reported that 81 bridges
and 41 tunnels would have to be built; another
Kyrgyz new service, Tzarbek reported that the
project would need 95 bridges and 48 tunnels. A
feasibility study was completed last summer, but the
results were not released publicly.

The two major hurdles that the CKU railway has long
faced are the �nancing question discussed above and
the geopolitical situation. Ostensibly, the CKU railway
would provide China a route that ultimately connects
to Europe without Russia’s involvement. As such,
Russia has long opposed the railway. But Russia’s
clout has diminished since its full-scale invasion of
Ukraine; Moscow needs the support of Central Asian
states – and China – far more than they need Russia’s
support. The project also has yielded little critique
from the West, as regional connectivity remains a top
agenda item for Europe and the United States in
Central Asia.

The risks ahead derive from these two challenges.

When it comes to the geopolitical situation, the
future is unwritten. Kyrgyzstan is notoriously
unstable politically, with three revolutions in about
30 years. While it is entirely plausible that any
Kyrgyz government would support this project,
Sinophobia in Kyrgyzstan – particularly related to
mining and road projects, environmental concerns,
the presence of Chinese workers, and the exclusion
of Kyrgyz companies – are all nationalistic
�ashpoints in the making. The Japarov government
recently �aunted that it had nearly doubled revenue,
but if the Kyrgyz people don’t start seeing the e�ects
of that in�ux, Bishkek could rumble.

The �nancing remains unclear, and the terms appear

to prioritize China and Chinese companies. The
construction of so many bridges and tunnels, in
addition to being signi�cant feats of engineering in of
themselves, are also ripe opportunities for in�ation
of costs, the cutting of corners, and corruption.

In 2018, Bishkek’s main power plant broke down in

the middle of a cold snap, less than six months after a
Chinese-managed modernization project was
completed. Although the breakdown caused a
political �restorm in Kyrgyzstan – including the
jailing of two former prime ministers – China’s role
in the corruption related to the project was little
remarked upon by the Kyrgyz government. In
February 2024, the plant experienced a massive pre-
dawn explosion.

While there is a huge di�erence between a power

plant and a railway, there is little di�erence in how
corruption in the procurement processes necessary
for all infrastructure projects operates. Given the
provisions of the CKU railway agreement, and a 2022
Kyrgyz law that paved the way for state-controlled
companies – like Kyrgz Railways – to purchase goods
and services without a public tender process, the
opportunities for corruption are manifold.

In the case of the power plant, documents shared

after the 2018 breakdown listed pliers being bought
for more than $600. A top o�cial at the plant who
had been �red immediately after the breakdown
shared the documents and commented to the media
that when he and others raised concerns about the
high costs, he was told to stick to technical details
and leave the �nancing alone.
Given Kyrgyzstan’s autocratic turn since 2020, we
can expect more of the same attitude.

The Author

is Managing Editor of The Diplomat.

Kyrgyz Presidential Administration

“One way or another, our journalists will

do what matters.”
By and

On the chilly morning of January 15, 2024, Mahinur

Niyazova, then editor-in-chief of one of Kyrgyzstan’s
most popular independent media outlets, 24.kg, was
on her way to attend a parliament hearing about
proposed new media regulations when she received
a call from her editor Anton Lymar. The country’s
notorious security services were at 24.kg’s Bishkek
o�ce with a search warrant.
“I immediately called our lawyers to come to the
o�ce. Then I called my colleagues but no one picked
up and I �gured their phones have been seized,”
recalled Niyazova on a phone call from Berlin in
early May. “I hid my phone away before entering our
o�ce.”

What Niyazova saw upon arrival was a sight that has

been growing all too frequent in Kyrgyzstan, once
considered an island of democracy in an
authoritarian Central Asia – seized laptops and
phones, the media outlet’s internal documents
packed in boxes, and a team of hostile security
service agents sealing the premises. Niyazova, Lymar,
and the owner of 24.kg, Asel Otorbaeva, were taken
in for questioning, presumably over an article on the
war in Ukraine that allegedly incited the citizens of
Kyrgyzstan to go �ght against Russia. The journalists
were released that evening but were asked not to
leave the country and were called in for another
round of questioning on January 17.

“They kept our o�ce sealed for three months. We

tried to work remotely. And then on March 17 I
learned on social media that 24.kg [had] changed
hands,” said Niyazova.

Otorbaeva, whom Niyazova considered a friend,

passed over control of the news agency to Almasbek
Turdumamatov, a former National Bank bureaucrat
and a press secretary to Kyrgyzstan’s former
President Kurmanbek Bakiyev.

“Looking back, I think the January events were a

hostile takeover and 24.kg now is in the hands of
someone closely a�liated with the government,”
Niyazova told The Diplomat.

Despite Otorbaeva denying this interpretation of the

events, Niyazova resigned from 24.kg a few days
later.

January 2024 proved to be the latest salvo in the

ongoing �ght against press freedom in Kyrgyzstan.
The day after the raid on the 24.kg o�ce, the
authorities arrested 11 current and former
journalists from Temirov Live, one of the country’s
leading investigative outlets, which has repeatedly
uncovered gross corruption on the part of
government o�cials, on charges of inciting mass
unrest. Although some of those detained in January
have been released to house arrest, four remain in
Detention Center 1 in the center of Bishkek as the
group awaits trial; if convicted, they face years in
prison.

Since its independence in 1991, Kyrgyzstan has been

the freest of Central Asia’s former Soviet republics.
Unlike its regional neighbors, the country has had a
string of genuinely democratic elections – as well as
three revolutions – and boasts a robust civil society.
Kyrgyzstan shares some commonalities with the
media systems of other Central Asian countries: the
authorities’ informal circulation of guidance to the
press; the inability of independent media to receive
services from the state and state-controlled media
infrastructures; denying “disloyal” media access to
advertising and information; the abuse of state
monopolies and subsidies; little market support for
self-sustaining media organizations; and government
control over licensing, airwaves, and internet service
providers. But Kyrgyzstan has also stood out for its
more vibrant and innovative independent media
space and a real hunger for investigative reporting.

“I think we’ve always had a strong civil society that

had kept the government more responsive and
accountable to its people, which in turn has led to
more press freedom in the country,” explained Bolot
Temirov, the founder of Temirov Live.

Temirov, who started as a journalist in 2006 almost

by accident, joined Factcheck.kg in 2018, one of
several similar outlets across Central Asia focused on
fact-checking and countering mis- and
disinformation in the region. But because of how
much misinformation traditionally comes from
government o�cials themselves, Temirov has
witnessed the line between mere fact-checking and
investigating government o�cials directly grow
thinner over time. “2017-18 was the beginning of the
investigative journalism boom in Kyrgyzstan,” he
said.

In 2018, a new foundation was created in the name

of Ulanbek Egizbayev, a Radio Azattyk journalist who
died that year, the goal of which was to support
corruption investigations and annually award the
best investigative journalism. That period saw Kloop,
one of Kyrgyzstan’s most popular independent media
outlets, join forces with the Organized Crime and
Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP) and Radio
Azattyk for a far-reaching investigation into
widespread corruption in Kyrgyzstan’s customs
service in December 2019.

Politklinika, an investigative media outlet launched

in 2013 in the Kyrgyz language, a rare occurrence
when most media outlets aiming for nationwide
readership typically start with a Russian-language
edition, investigated corruption in the government
tender system and personal property declarations of
the government o�cials.

In 2019, Radio Azattyk’s Ydyrys Isakov uncovered

how Osh’s sports clubs engaged in racketeering and
intimidation at the request and under the protection
of local government o�cials.

Temirov launched his investigative YouTube channel,

Temirov Live, in 2020 and helped Factcheck.kg
further investigate the corruption of Raimbek
Matraimov, the former deputy head of Kyrgyzstan’s
customs.

This �ourishing of the investigative journalism scene

pushed Kyrgyzstan, which since 1991 has stayed
ahead of its Central Asian neighbors on press
freedom, to 82nd place out of 180 in Reporters
Without Borders’ 2020 global press freedom ranking,
ahead of all former Soviet republics except for the
Baltic states, Georgia, and Armenia.

Then in October 2020 Sadyr Japarov, a former

member of parliament and a populist �rebrand who
was serving a prison sentence for kidnapping a local
o�cial, was released by a crowd of supporters who
were protesting the results of an allegedly rigged
parliamentary election and the government’s
management of the COVID-19 pandemic. In the
ensuing chaos, Japarov maneuvered himself �rst into
the prime ministership and then almost immediately
into an acting presidency following the October 15
resignation of President Sooronbay Jeenbekov.

A few months later, in January 2021, Japarov won the

presidential election and secured himself in power.
Since then, he appointed his close ally, Kamychbek
Tashiev, to run the country’s notorious security
service – the State Committee for National Security
(GKNB or SCNS) – and crack down on any threats to
their power.

“The �rst attempts to pressure our journalists started

in 2019 when we published our investigation into
Raimbek Matraimov,” said Anna Kapushenko,
Kloop’s editor-in-chief. “The real pressure started
when Japarov and Tashiev came to power. They
started using the same tools as the Russian
government – derogatory public statements, judicial
harassment, troll factories.”

“I was beaten up by three strangers in January of

2020 and the Factcheck.kg website underwent a
DDoS attack a month before. But it has gotten worse
since [Japarov] has come to power,” agreed Temirov.

Dilbar Alimova, the editor-in-chief of Politklinika,

also recounted someone breaking into their o�ce
and stealing work laptops and hard drives in the
spring of 2020.

Since Japarov pushed himself to the top in October

2020, independent journalists in Kyrgyzstan have
experienced a signi�cant rise in online harassment
and troll activity, both from temporary fake accounts
and those permanently a�liated with certain
politicians as protection against targeted criticism.
Kloop published several investigations into troll
factories and their ties to government o�cials. Under
Temirov, Factcheck.kg also investigated the rise of
online harassment of journalists and other dissident
voices in the country. “[These trolls] say that I ‘sold
out to the West,’ that I am the ‘enemy of the Kyrgyz
people,’” Temirov told the Committee to Protect
Journalists (CPJ) at the time.

“It took [Japarov and Tashiev] just six months to

ramp up the pressure on journalists,” con�rmed
Niyazova, formerly with 24.kg. In Kyrgyzstan, with
its weak economy and high poverty rate,
independent media outlets usually can’t rely on
subscription revenue from their readers and have to
depend on ad revenue and grants. With Japarov’s
rise to power, the country’s government has started
putting pressure on businesses and state
corporations not to buy ads in media outlets seen as
hostile to the government narrative.

“Because of Japarov, the Manas Airport, Megacom,

the Kumtor corporation all have stopped buying ads
in 24.kg. Living o� of ad revenue became impossible
and we had to reorient ourselves towards grant
funding from foreign donors,” said Niyazova.

In the summer of 2021, Japarov made his �rst

legislative moves aimed at curtailing critical voices.
That July, he signed a law that requires NGOs to �le
onerous �nancial reports to remain in good standing
with tax authorities. The law was introduced amid
growing anti-Western sentiment among politicians
and religious groups, who increasingly accused
independent journalists and human rights activists
of spreading “Western ideology” and “LGBT
propaganda.” Civil society leaders saw the new
controls as a response to media investigations into
high-level corruption and rightfully feared these
controls would be used to cripple the work of
independent activists.

A month later, Japarov signed into law the

controversial “false information” bill in violation of
parliamentary procedure. The bill gave the
government more power to take down online
information it deems false and forced owners of
websites and social media accounts to disclose their
personal data and e-mail addresses. The intended use
of the law became clear in October 2022, when the
government blocked Radio Azattyk’s website because
of a news story about the border con�ict with
Tajikistan, which government o�cials deemed
“against the national interests of Kyrgyzstan.”

State �nancial police soon ordered a block on Radio

Azattyk’s bank accounts under the article of the
criminal code on countering terrorism and money
laundering. The state-owned television and radio
channels also suspended the broadcasting of Radio
Azattyk’s programs, and seven of its reporters were
stripped of their parliamentary accreditation. In
January 2023, the government ordered the
liquidation of Radio Azattyk, a decision that was
annulled by an appeals court in July 2023 after the
outlet agreed to remove the materials targeted by
prosecutors.

“Radio Azattyk is the biggest independent media in

the region; they were supposed to be the main point
of opposition against the government. If even they
with their vast resources couldn’t �ght o� the
authorities, who can?” lamented Kloop’s
Kapushenko. “The Radio Azattyk case broke the
journalists across the country emotionally.”

A handful of the journalists The Diplomat spoke to

for this piece alleged that Radio Azattyk was forced
to settle with the government behind the scenes in an
attempt to stay in the country, a move that is
expected to weaken its future reporting; Radio
Azattyk did not respond to a request for comment.

For so long Central Asia’s standout country for

independent journalism and media innovation,
Kyrgyzstan fell 50 places in Reporters Without
Borders’ 2021 global press freedom ranking.

“With all these new restrictions, the independent

media is barely breathing now. The false information
law, for example, essentially targets speci�cally the
media,” said Nurbek Sydykov of the Media Policy
Institute, a longstanding NGO defending free
expression and media freedom in Kyrgyzstan. “The
Constitution clearly prohibits any laws that restrict
press freedom and freedom of speech so we �gured
it couldn’t get any worse because it would require
amending the Constitution itself.”

But the attacks on press freedom have grown only

more brazen ever since.

“[Law enforcement] came for me on late Saturday

evening in the hopes that other journalists won’t
learn quickly [about the arrest] and our lawyers
won’t show up on time,” Temirov recounted of the
infamous evening of January 22, 2022, when his
outlet’s o�ce in Bishkek was sacked, his equipment
and documents seized, and he was arrested on false
drug charges.

At the time, Temirov Live had just released an

investigation uncovering the Tashiev family’s
apparent in�uence over the operations of a state-
controlled fuel re�nery. Speaking to the press during
the Temirov trial, Japarov said there was no pressure
on the media in Kyrgyzstan, only on journalists who
“try to evade responsibility for their crimes.”

The president further commented that such

journalists conduct pseudo-investigations, spread
false information, discredit individuals, and mislead
the public, sending an unambiguous message about
Temirov’s fate. By the end of the year, he was
convicted of using forged documents to obtain a
Kyrgyz passport – an absurd charge given that no
one disputes he was born in Soviet Kyrgyzstan and
thus entitled to Kyrgyz citizenship. But Temirov was
stripped of his citizenship anyway and deported to
Russia. He can’t return to Kyrgyzstan for �ve years
and today continues his investigative work from an
undisclosed location in Europe.

“Every two years in January something special

happens either to me or to my team,” he chuckled
over a call with The Diplomat.

In August 2023, under the pretense of creating a safe

information environment for children, Japarov
signed a law that gave his government even more
power to take down undesirable information. That
same summer, state prosecutors moved to shut down
Kloop because Kloop Media, its NGO publisher, was
not properly registered as a media organization. A
court approved the shut-down in February.

In May 2023, Japarov introduced a draft law on mass

media, arguing that the current law, passed in 1992,
was out of date. The bill suggested re-registration of
all media outlets in the country under ambiguous
and broad requirements with plenty of room for
misinterpretation and abuse. In its analysis, the
Media Policy Institute concluded that one of the goals
of the proposed law is the liquidation of media
outlets considered undesirable by the authorities.
This past March Japarov withdrew the bill for
further revisions; the seventh version of the bill is
expected to be reintroduced again.

“The [proposed media registration] requirements

were very unclear,” Niyazova, who is part of the
working group advising the parliament on the media
law reform, explained. “For example, an outlet must
list out its geographic reach. But you can’t list the
entire world and if someone reads you in a country
you didn’t list it could serve as grounds for
liquidation. Or the government wants each outlet to
submit their detailed standard operating procedures,
thus interfering with editorial independence.”

Finally, on April 2, 2024, Japarov took arguably the

most destructive shot against the country’s dissenting
voices by signing the foreign agents law, heavily
inspired by similar regulations in Russia. The law
mandates that NGOs receiving foreign funding be
labeled “foreign representatives” and be subject to
costly reporting and auditing requirements.

Kyrgyzstan has some 29,000 NGOs. Although it’s

unclear how many of them are actually active, many
have played a critical role in attracting and
distributing foreign aid. In fact, the government has
e�ectively outsourced considerable public service
provision to NGOs. Many civil society actors have
started closing down in the wake of the law.
Furthermore, the law will also hurt the country’s
independent media, which – given the funding
di�culties media around the world face and the
crippled advertisement market in Kyrgyzstan – have
long relied on foreign funding to keep reporting.

“I think the law allows government o�cials to dip

their hands in foreign funding and to have more
tools to crush dissent. It also helps Japarov to show
his loyalty to Russia, an important consideration in
the current geopolitical environment,” explained
Kapushenko.
When asked what she made of these developments
under Japarov, she said, “I think the 24.kg sale and
the recent arrests of journalists are part of a long
game aimed at shutting down anyone who can hurt
the Japarov regime. The opposition is divided,
organized crime groups vying for power have been
diminished, big businesses have been raided, and
civil society is slowly bleeding out. These are all the
players who could stand up to the government. Now
it is the media’s turn and the journalists’ arrests are
meant to show how far this government is willing to
go.”

“These recent arrests and illegal searches and the

new laws are negatively impacting the work of the
media. There’s growing self-censorship and the
journalists are constantly living in fear now,”
lamented Sydykov of the Media Policy Institute.

But while some are not sure how to stay in

journalism amid the government’s growing hostility
– Niyazova, for one, doesn’t want to quit but can’t see
herself working in Kyrgyzstan anymore – others are
resolved to continue their �ght, too.

“If before we could brag about the strongest

investigative journalism tradition in the region,
today it is growing weaker, [the government] is trying
to break us. But I don’t think they will succeed,” said
Politklinika’s Alimova. “Many journalists continue
their work from abroad. One way or another, our
journalists will do what matters.”

“I won’t deny that it is scary. But today journalism is

the only way to �nd any sort of justice and fairness
in Kyrgyzstan,” said Temirov, whose wife is among
the Temirov Live journalists in detention in
Kyrgyzstan. His outlet, together with Kloop and
OCCRP, just published a damning investigation into
how state projects are handed to Japarov’s proxies
while the public spending system is growing more
and more opaque.

“Until there are [no more] people like us who stand

up to the system, who refuse to give up and to break,
there’s hope for a robust civil society and for a
responsive government. Without people like that
there is no future.”

The Authors

is a freelance journalist from Kyrgyzstan who

has written about social issues for The Guardian, Reuters, Al Jazeera,
and other outlets.

is a Tajikistan-born freelance journalist who

examines social issues, digital politics, and press freedom in Central
Asia.
Catherine Putz

Uzbek imams and religious bloggers

occupy an in�uential space online in
Uzbekistan.
By

On May 27, imams working at mosques in Uzbekistan

were reportedly warned against going on social
media platforms and engaging with any content. The
assistant chief imam of Tashkent city, Ergash
Rustamov, sent an audio message on Telegram to
regional chief imams, instructing them to monitor
the social media activities of the imams under their
purview. “Our next task is not to go on social
networks. We will strictly control it. It also applies to
those who are/have been on Hajj (pilgrimage)... Also,
we must not ‘like’ any topic on social networks,” read
the message.

Uzbek imams and other religious bloggers occupy a

relatively large space on the internet, boasting
millions of followers. Between 2017 and 2021, imams
in o�cial roles launched 58 websites, 166 Telegram
channels, 200 Facebook pages, and 21 YouTube
channels carving out a signi�cant digital footprint.
These numbers have grown since then. Apart from
that, sermons or discussions of religious teachers
(ustoz, sheikh, domla, and other locally titled
religious �gures) are video and audio recorded by
their students and followers to be posted on social
media platforms. Occasionally, however, their
teachings cause debate among the public, and those
debates could have been the reason for the warning.

Most controversial social media incidents involving

Uzbek imams are not related to terrorism,
extremism, or radicalism, as some might assume;
instead, they primarily focus on social, economic,
and cultural matters. In May 2023, for example, the
chief imam of Toshlaq district in Fergana and imam
of a local mosque, Shukurullo Egamberdiev, known
as “Shukurullo domla,” was dismissed from his chief
imam position. The dismissal reportedly happened
after a contentious discussion about labor migrants.

Another imam, Ishoqjon Begmatov, who worked at a

mosque in Tashkent, was removed from his position
in August 2023. The Muslim Board of Uzbekistan
conducted a review of Begmatov's public statements
following a controversial remark regarding taxes
and the cashback system, in which customers can
register receipts and receive a rebate of 1 percent of
the purchase, which stirred public debate. In a video
in which he answered a question about the cashback
system, Begmatov criticized the mandatory nature of
cashback regulations for merchants, expressing the
view that such requirements were a form of
oppression for both businesspeople and consumers.

Both imams acknowledged their errors and

expressed regret, presumably at the request of the
Board.

RFE/RL’s Uzbek Service, Radio Ozodlik, noted other

cases over the last couple of years where imams’
statements were met with public discontent.

Sometimes it is due to a failure to communicate

religious understanding to a secular public. In 2017,
for example, the chief imam of Mirzo Yusuf mosque
in Tashkent, Rakhmatullokh Sayfutdinov, criticized
male gynecologists, insinuating that male doctors
examining the private parts of women is not
acceptable in Islam unless there is a dire need.

“Brothers, today one of the issues that we need to

correct is to stop sending our boys to study in
obstetrics and gynecology. Let’s stop this shame,” he
said in a Friday sermon. This sparked a heated public
debate. Later, in an interview with Ozodlik,
Sayfutdinov clari�ed his remarks, explaining his
words were misunderstood. “In this statement, I
called for girls to be taught gynecology and
obstetrics. It was a call to create jobs for women,” the
imam reportedly said in a phone call.

This is not the �rst time the activities of imams have

been restricted. In April, Ozodlik reported that
imams were asked to submit their travel passports to
the Board. Rustamov explained that passports were
being collected for registration purposes only.

“We are returning the passports after registering

them. We are entering the passport data into the
database and returning them,” he said to Ozodlik.

However, this explanation raised doubts, because the

committee could have more easily asked for passport
details or copies. The timing of the request, following
the Crocus City Hall attack in Russia, further fueled
suspicion that the authorities wanted to make sure
imams could not leave the country at that time.

Whether or not the warning against social media use

was sent to the imams at the request of the Uzbek
government remains unknown. If it was, Tashkent is
missing a critical point – there is far more value for
the country and for the government in imams
making public appearances and speaking freely on
social media than costs, even with occasional
troubles over sensitive statements.

Uzbekistan’s religious �gures, especially those who

hold formal positions at mosques or other
institutions, mostly discuss socioeconomic issues on
their platforms. Very rarely do they talk about
politics and they almost never challenge the
leadership. Occasionally they might criticize some
regulations, such as when female students were not
allowed to wear headscarves at universities or
schools, but they seldom venture beyond their scope,
and their criticism targets universities or schools
rather than government institutions. Many imams, if
not all of them, call on the public to pursue peace
and issue warnings against terrorism, extremism and
radicalism.

During the 2022 protests in the Republic of

Karakalpakstan, popular imams, including the mufti,
were among the �rst to call on people to stay home
and speak against unrest. Similarly, they often
explain to the youth, many of whom are eager to go
to protect Palestine or �ght jihad in other countries,
why those are not options for Muslims in Uzbekistan.
Religious bloggers such as Abror Muhktor Aliy often
criticize any suggestion of joining Islamic military
groups abroad.

Imams also constantly call for moderation. Last year,

Grand Mufti of Uzbekistan Nuriddin Kholiqnazarov
yet again called people to follow Islam moderately,
explaining that the Hana� school followed by a
majority of Muslims in Uzbekistan does not require
women to cover their faces or hands or wear full
black out�ts.

“[B]oth the companions of our Prophet (peace be

upon Him) and the ulema of our school in many of
their instructions recommended that the beard
should be no longer than one kabza (the width of the
palm) and should be kept in order,” said the mufti in
a speech that was later posted to the Telegram
channel of the Muslim Board of Uzbekistan.

Most importantly, imams remain one of the few

in�uential groups that constantly call on people to
love the country and to respect the government.
There are over 37 million people in Uzbekistan and
approximately 90 percent of them identify as
Muslim. While many are cultural Muslims, who
observe a secular lifestyle, there are equally as many
devout Muslims, who listen to imams and take their
words to heart. Imams play an important role in
fostering patriotism, especially among the youth in
Uzbekistan. Limiting their public appearance to live
sermons at mosques only will not serve the country
in the long run.

The Author

is a scholar whose research interests focus on

gender, Islam, and politics in Central Asia.
Depositphotos

Connecting with Iran may be tempting for

Central Asian countries like Kyrgyzstan
and Uzbekistan, but increased relations
with Tehran may ultimately be
counterproductive.
By

The China-Kyrgyzstan-Uzbekistan railway project

may �nally get underway, with the Kyrgyz, Chinese,
and Uzbek leaders signing a trilateral
intergovernmental agreement in early June. Shortly
before that, at the 8th annual Trans-Caspian Forum,
organized by the Caspian Policy Center on May 21,
Kyrgyz Ambassador to the U.S. Bakyt Amanbaev
added that the project will connect with Pakistan to
reach the Arabian Sea and “holds special signi�cance
for all of us [because it will have] enormous
economic and social importance for the entire
region.”

While Amanbaev mentioned Pakistan, Iran has been

discussed as a potential point for sea access as well.
Kyrgyz o�cials visited Iran’s port of Bander Abbas in
2021, prompting speculation that Bishkek wanted to
reach the ocean by linking to it. In 2023, Kyrgyz
Railway Company Deputy Director Dastan
Usubakunov also noted, “We will get access to the
Persian Gulf and Paci�c Ocean [via] Bandar Abbas
Port.”

At a recent Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO)

meeting, Iran’s ambassador to Tajikistan said that
Iran can be Central Asia’s gateway to international
markets. Ambassador Alireza Haghighian noted that
given its location, Iran can help Central Asia obtain
access to the Persian Gulf and, from there, to the
broader world.

The statement is not new; Tehran has previously

discussed increasing transportation infrastructure
connectivity with Central Asian countries. For
example, Tehran proposed linking to the China-
Kyrgyzstan-Uzbekistan railway in 2022 and
addressed the possibility of a transit corridor with
Tashkent and Ashgabat in October 2023.

While Iran has generally close relations with

Tajikistan, Tehran is also keen to approach other
Central Asian states, particularly Kyrgyzstan. In 2023,
Iranian imports of non-oil products from Kyrgyzstan
increased. News reports have mentioned Bishkek’s
interest in improving its connections with Iran.

As I have previously discussed for The Diplomat, the

CKU railway project will bring Kyrgyzstan further
into China’s orbit, with debt and growing
dependency on Beijing signi�cant concerns. Given
Kyrgyzstan’s already damaged international image
due to the repressive actions of Japarov’s
government, a Bishkek-Tehran partnership may
entail negative consequences for Kyrgyzstan.

Iran is likely also trying to promote connectivity

projects to improve relations with Uzbekistan, as
“despite the solid groundwork for integration, Uzbek-
Iranian relations still have a distinct smell of
confrontation,” argued Dr. Vladimir Mesamed from
Hebrew University. In a February meeting between
the two governments in Tashkent, Iranian Deputy
Foreign Minister Ali Bagheri proclaimed that “the
depth of the long-standing relations between the two
countries was formed in a popular context, and for
this reason, it cannot be broken.” Bilateral trade
reached around $500 million in 2023.

Central Asian governments should be wary of Iran’s

o�er to act as a gateway for Central Asia. A self-
evident reason is that Iran continues to be regarded
as a pariah state and malign actor by the United
States, Europe, and several other governments. The
recent drone attacks against Israel and the incidents
involving the Iranian Navy seizing oil tankers have
further exacerbated tensions with Washington. Thus,
the image of Central Asian governments would be
tarnished by increasing connectivity with Iran.

This warning is particularly relevant for Kyrgyzstan,

as U.S. Senator Bob Menendez has already warned
the Kyrgyz leadership about helping Russia avoid
sanctions, and Kyrgyz-based companies have been
sanctioned for their links with Russia. It is
hypothetically possible that the West could threaten
Bishkek with sanctions if, besides links with Moscow,
they also increase ties with Tehran.

Tehran’s interest in linking to the China-Kyrgyzstan-

Uzbekistan corridor must be put into the bigger
geopolitical context. With a limited number of
regional allies (including Syria, another international
pariah), Iran seeks partners and allies elsewhere,
such as Central Asia. The country achieved a victory
in 2023 when it became a member of the Shanghai
Cooperation Organization (SCO). Membership in the
SCO will facilitate the training of Iranian military
personnel with Central Asian armed forces in the
future. Gaining alliances in Central Asia would help
Iran avoid international isolation and legitimize itself
globally.

Much has been written about Iran’s strategy toward

Central Asia, with some analysts arguing that as
Russia is focused on Ukraine, “Iran is moving to �ll a
gap left by Russia [and] the Russian invasion also is
forcing Central Asian states into an economic
reckoning.” Certainly, history and geography play a
role, and Iran has cultural and historical ties with
Central Asia. Still, Tehran has limited o�erings for
Central Asia; Tehran cannot match the Russian
market vis-a-vis Central Asia dollar to dollar.

The China-Kyrgyzstan-Uzbekistan railway project is

not new; over the years, there have been multiple
false starts. Hence, it remains to be seen if Japarov’s
optimism that the project will soon get underway is
well-placed. Of the three countries involved in the
project, Bishkek appears to be the most eager to start
it (during the Trans-Caspian Policy Forum, the
Kyrgyz ambassador was the only diplomat who
mentioned the railway project in his remarks). This
situation is unsurprising as, given its geographic
location, Kyrgyzstan relies heavily on new transport
corridors to access the wider world.

However, the railway project will be expensive. It

will rely heavily on Chinese investment and
Bishkek’s ability to procure �nancial assistance from
other sources, including, perhaps, international
credit institutions. Given the country’s economic
situation and deteriorating international image,
obtaining international �nancial aid may be di�cult.

As an already expensive and complex international

railway corridor may �nally begin construction,
Central Asian governments (particularly Kyrgyzstan)
should not forget the importance of geopolitics and
the current state of global disorder. Connecting with
Iran may be tempting, but increased relations with
Tehran may ultimately be counterproductive.

The Author

is president of Second Floor Strategies, a

consulting �rm in Washington, D.C. He is an analyst who monitors
defense & security, geopolitical, and trade issues across the Western
Hemisphere, Eastern Europe, and Central Asia.
OSCE

Central Asian nations have seized the

initiative, emerging as worldwide pioneers
in tackling the challenge of repatriating
and reintegrating citizens who traveled to
Iraq and Syria.
By

A June 2023 report by UNICEF estimated that around

40,000 members from more than 80 nations
journeyed to Syria and Iraq to support the Islamic
State of Iraq and the Levant (IS) and other extremist
organizations between 2011 and 2016. While some
may have joined willingly, others, including relatives
of foreign terrorist �ghters, may have been deceived
or pressured into participation. Following the defeat
of the Islamic State in 2019, numerous men, women,
and children remain in camps and detention centers
in northeastern Syria and Iraq, facing complex
challenges in terms of humanitarian aid, security,
and human rights.

To address the threat posed by foreign terrorist

�ghters to global peace and security, the United
Nations Security Council, through resolutions 2178
(2014) and 2396 (2017), urged member states to
create and execute speci�c and comprehensive plans
for the prosecution, rehabilitation, and reintegration
of returning and relocating foreign terrorist �ghters
and their families in compliance with international
law. This was further emphasized in the Eighth
Review of the U.N. Global Counter-Terrorism Strategy
(UNGCTS) (A/RES/77/298), where the General
Assembly acknowledged the signi�cance of
enhancing international cooperation, promoting
information sharing, and establishing risk
assessments and counter-terrorism strategies that
consider age and gender aspects.

Central Asian nations have seized the initiative to

tackle this challenge, emerging as worldwide
pioneers in repatriating and reintegrating their
citizens. By March 2024, over 2,100 individuals had
been repatriated to the region through humanitarian
missions orchestrated by Central Asian countries.
Notably, Kazakhstan welcomed back 754 of its
people, Kyrgyzstan 511, Tajikistan 334, and
Uzbekistan 531.

Upon their return, repatriated individuals, primarily

women and children, have undergone a
rehabilitation process followed by tailored initiatives
to support their peaceful reintegration into families
and communities. Each country has established its
own program and gathered expertise in this area, the
sharing of which on a regional scale would be
bene�cial for all stakeholders. Given the ongoing
repatriation e�orts of Central Asian states, it is
crucial to enhance coordination among regional
experts to simplify procedures, particularly in
intricate criminal cases.

In light of these circumstances, Uzbek President

Shavkat Mirziyoyev proposed creating a Regional
Expert Council comprising leading specialists from
Central Asian nations under the guidance of the U.N.
O�ce of Counter-Terrorism (UNOCT). The primary
objective of this Regional Expert Council is to
enhance regional and national initiatives for the
rehabilitation and reintegration of individuals
returning from con�ict zones and formulate
strategies to combat terrorism. This proposal was put
forth during the high-level international conference
"Regional Cooperation of the Countries of Central
Asia within the Framework of the Joint Action Plan
for the Implementation of the U.N. Global Counter-
Terrorism Strategy" held on March 3-4, 2022, in
Tashkent.

To translate these initiatives into action, Tashkent

convened the inaugural meeting of the Regional
Expert Council for Central Asia on the rehabilitation
and reintegration of returnees on May 15-16, 2024.

Uzbekistan was among the �rst nations to take

proactive steps to repatriate its citizens from con�ict
zones. It recognized the importance of addressing the
challenges faced by these individuals, mostly women
and children, upon their return. Through the �ve
phases of Operation Mehr, 531 individuals, including
381 children, from Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan were
successfully repatriated to Uzbekistan.

At the UNOCT's Third High-Level Conference of

Heads of Counter-Terrorism Agencies of Member
States (HLC) in June 2023, two Uzbek nationals, a
mother and daughter returnee, repatriated from the
Al-Hol camp in northeastern Syria provided moving
testimonies of their experiences. The initiative,
applauded by U.N. Secretary General Antonio
Guterres, served as a powerful sign of support for his
call to member states to expedite repatriation for
those from con�ict zones in Syria and Iraq.

Upon repatriation, the Uzbek government ensured

that these individuals received comprehensive
support to reintegrate into society successfully. This
encompassed access to educational, medical, and
social programs vital for their rehabilitation and
integration. Moreover, the government o�ered
practical assistance to foster self-su�ciency and
economic stability. Some returnees received
complimentary housing and low-interest loans,
crucial for securing their livelihoods. Others were
equipped to establish personal businesses, such as
small bakeries and sewing operations, further
supporting their journey to rebuild their lives. Social
aid was also extended to facilitate a seamless return
to their communities.

The inaugural meeting of the Regional Expert

Council, supported by UNOCT, represents a
signi�cant step forward in enforcing global and
regional anti-terrorism measures. The event was a
direct outcome of the U.N. resolution “Enhancing
regional and international partnerships to promote
peace, security, and sustainable growth in the Central
Asian region,” which was approved in June 2018
after being proposed by Tashkent. It also builds on
discussions initiated during the high-level
symposium “Central Asia – a shared past and a
collective future” held in Samarkand in November
2017.
The gathering convened a diverse array of attendees,
including deputy foreign a�airs ministers from
Central Asia, high-ranking dignitaries representing
international bodies like the U.N., OSCE, and
UNRCCA, and specialists focused on the
rehabilitation and reintegration of repatriates.

The main focus of the discussions revolved around

Uzbekistan's updated strategy for countering
terrorism, highlighting the signi�cance of preventive,
spiritual, and educational initiatives along with
administrative and legal measures. This strategy, as
outlined in Uzbekistan's National Strategy for
Combating Extremism and Terrorism for 2021-2026,
adopts a comprehensive approach that includes
social, legal, and material support for victims of
terrorism, including repatriates.

The occasion also held a regional workshop

intending to exchange insights and best practices in
rehabilitation and reintegration among various
Central Asian nations. The workshop primarily
concentrated on fostering collaboration between
national governments and civil society organizations,
rehabilitation and reintegration schemes with a
focus on speci�c genders and age groups, access to
essential services, the role of local communities and
religious leaders, bolstering regional and national
initiatives, and establishing an informal regional
network.

The meeting echoed the Joint Action Plan to

Implement the U.N. Global Counter-Terrorism
Strategy in Central Asia and strived to craft a holistic,
focused rehabilitation initiative and secure enduring
civil society engagement in the reintegration journey.
By employing a collaborative and multi-dimensional
strategy, the gathering aimed to strengthen the
region's capability to tackle the intricate hurdles
arising from the reentry of individuals from con�ict
zones.
Through various resolutions and assessments, the
United Nations has stressed the need for
comprehensive approaches involving the
prosecution, rehabilitation, and reintegration of
these individuals in compliance with international
law. Central Asian nations, particularly Uzbekistan,
have stood out for their e�orts in repatriating and
reintegrating their citizens, paying particular
attention to women and children, who constitute a
notable portion of the returnees.

Uzbekistan's proactive stance has resulted in the

development of tailored rehabilitation schemes and
substantial aid to support reintegration e�orts,
including education, healthcare, and economic
opportunities.

The inaugural gathering of the Regional Expert

Council represented a crucial stride in implementing
global and regional counterterrorism frameworks. It
illustrates a comprehensive strategy that addresses
the immediate needs of returnees and integrates
preventive measures against extremism. By fostering
a collaborative atmosphere, these initiatives
strengthen regional security, contribute to the global
�ght against terrorism, and ensure the humane
treatment and successful reintegration of con�ict-
a�ected individuals. This all-encompassing approach
serves as a model for regional and international
counter-terrorism endeavors.

The Author

is the chief research fellow at the Center for

Progressive Reforms in Uzbekistan.
Depositphotos

With its proposal to develop nuclear

power, the Liberal Party has focused
Australia’s collective mind more clearly on
its energy future. But the complications
may prove far too toxic.
By

Energy remains a central issue in Australian politics.

The country is a huge exporter of fossil fuels, but also
has the requisite conditions to be a major renewables
power. Yet part of the problem of any energy
transition in Australia is that the regions that are
economically reliant on the coal industry in
particular are not regions where renewable energy
sources are likely to be developed. The energy
transition for these regions has the potential to
decimate their economic viability.

The opposition Liberal Party believes it has a

solution to this dilemma, but one that is deeply
contentious and expensive. The party’s plan – should
it be elected in next year’s federal election – is to
build seven nuclear power stations on sites where
coal-�red power stations are forecasted to be
decommissioned. The plan is to have two of these
nuclear power stations operational by 2035-2037.

The proposal is a bold new intervention in Australian

politics, and one that cuts across a number of
spheres, not just domestic energy consumption, but
also its foreign policy. While the Liberal Party is
currently framing the proposal as one tied to
Australia’s energy security, and as a way to meet
Australia’s emissions targets, the impetus for the
nuclear power plants is the AUKUS agreement for the
U.S. and U.K. to supply Australia with eight new
nuclear-powered submarines.

One of the hurdles of acquiring nuclear-powered

submarines is that Australia doesn’t have the nuclear
capabilities to service them. Australia currently only
has one small nuclear reactor, which is mostly used
for research purposes rather than power generation.
Its establishment in 2007 provided Australia with
some nuclear knowledge, but nowhere near the scale
required to operate its future �eet of nuclear-
powered submarines without the assistance of
technicians from the U.S. and U.K. Developing
signi�cant domestic nuclear capabilities would help
overcome this problem, although ramping up the
number of technicians required within the country
within a decade remains a huge task.

While increasing Australia’s nuclear capabilities

would assist in maintaining sovereignty over its
future nuclear-powered submarines, it also comes
with signi�cant diplomatic problems. Due to their
experience as testing grounds for both U.S. and
French nuclear weapons, Australia’s neighbors in the
Paci�c are rightly deeply suspicious of all things
nuclear. Paci�c Island capitals would view this
proposal as substituting one threat (fossil fuels) for
another (nuclear power).

Although the development of nuclear power

generation doesn’t automatically lead to acquiring
nuclear weapons, it would signi�cantly increase
Australia’s capabilities to do so. In a more
destabilized regional environment in the Indo-
Paci�c, and with a less-reliable Washington, the
conditions make nuclear weapons not outside the
realm of consideration in Canberra.

However, prior to any regional diplomatic problems

that may arise there are also the domestic political
concerns. Twenty-�ve years ago the federal
government implemented a ban on nuclear energy
as part of the country’s environmental laws.
Additionally both New South Wales and Queensland
have bans on nuclear energy, which would be
constitutionally di�cult for the federal government
to overturn. Attempting to create an overarching
national framework for nuclear energy could be
challenged in the country’s High Court were the
Liberals able to get the proposal through both houses
of Parliament.

Of course, all this relies on the Liberal Party – and its

ally the National Party – actually winning the next
election. Several of the Liberal Party’s traditional
wealthy, highly educated urban seats that they lost at
the last federal election are unlikely to be convinced
that nuclear energy should be part of Australia’s
future. These seats are now highly committed to
renewables as not only the best environmental form
of energy generation, but also the most cost e�ective.
Without these seats, �nding a majority in the House
of Representatives will be di�cult for the party. And
neither of Australia’s major parties will be able to
command a majority in the Senate for the
foreseeable future.

However, what the Liberal Party has done is focus

Australia’s collective mind more clearly on its energy
future. If coal and gas will eventually be phased out,
but renewables cannot currently provide su�cient
baseload power, then a reliable alternative needs to
be found. Nuclear power’s emissions-free generation
o�ers an energy prospect that can seem compelling.
But the complications it brings may prove far too
toxic to become a reality.

The Author

is a Melbourne-based political analyst specializing in

Australia and the Paci�c, India and Canada.
Depositphotos

To evaluate whether Wellington’s shift

toward tighter defense cooperation is truly
abandoning a long-held tradition, �rst we
must ask what an “independent foreign
policy” really means.
By and

In the eyes of many politicians and analysts Aotearoa

New Zealand’s “independent” foreign policy is being
undermined. Critics argue that closer security
arrangements with Australia and NATO as well as the
possibility that New Zealand will join Pillar II of
AUKUS would reverse the country’s ability to chart a
pragmatic self-determining approach in its foreign
policy.

Recently, former Prime Minster Helen Clark and

former National Party leader Don Brash put aside
their historical animosity to argue that a decision to
join AUKUS would “abandon our independent
foreign policy in favor of unquali�ed support for
America’s ‘China containment policy.’” They accused
New Zealand’s current government of deciding to
“throw in our lot with America’s attempt to slow
China’s economic rise and keep it tightly hemmed in
by American forces.” Various members of the
opposition Labor Party have similarly argued against
a New Zealand presence in AUKUS, describing the
pact as an attempt to “wedge” China and a trade
threat.

For these commentators, such actions are a

regrettable (and dangerous) ideological re�ex by the
current conservative National government to return
New Zealand to its traditional sti�ing security
relationships, whose policies are singularly premised
on the containment of Chinese power in the Paci�c.
As Clark noted during her April 2024 visit to
Wellington, under an “independent foreign policy” it
is the government’s job to navigate relationships
with both China and the United States, “and not act
in ways which support polarization and support a
view that one side is driving tensions.” The policies,
baggage, and implications of increased defense
cooperation are seen as ill-suited to New Zealand’s
present economic and security situation as a small
Paci�c state.

Given the politics and rhetoric revolving around

Pillar II of AUKUS, along with the current
government’s seeming inability to adequately
articulate its position, it is unlikely that there would
be a clear-eyed analysis of deeper security
cooperation. Instead the question of whether such re-
alignment is desirable or not often descends into a
peroration on the “tradition” of lining-up with
historical allies or ethical superiority of New
Zealand’s non-discriminatory trade policy, its anti-
nuclear policy, and the South Paci�c focus that has
been the grundnorms of an “independent” foreign
policy since the David Lange government in the
1980s.

Nevertheless, what exactly is New Zealand’s

“independent” foreign policy and how do the
elements of the policy �t the international context?

New Zealand’s initial forays into international a�airs

started with the signing the Treaty of Versailles in
1919 under the auspices of the British Empire. It was
a founding member of the League of Nations. Under
the League, New Zealand was assigned a mandate for
the former German colony of (western) Samoa,
which it ruled until Samoan independence in 1962.
At this time, New Zealand’s foreign policy hewed
closely to the British Empire, and then the United
States after World War II. Its Western orientation was
evident in its involvement in the Malayan
Emergency, the Vietnam War and the Five-Power
multilateral Defense Agreements (Australia,
Malaysia, New Zealand, Singapore, and the United
Kingdom), the ANZUS pact and GATT.

However, the pro-Western orientation was tempered

by a strong commitment to the United Nations,
collective security, and liberal internationalism,
which policymakers felt was protective of smaller
states and trade. Prime Minister Peter Fraser, one of
the few world leaders who participated in the 1945
San Francisco Conference that established the United
Nations, argued passionately against the Permanent
Member veto in the U.N. Security Council.

Over the course of the 1960s, changes in domestic

attitudes toward race and immigration, Maori
activism, recognition of the New Zealand/Aotearoa
exceptionalism under the Treaty of Waitangi, as well
as the growing disillusionment with the U.S.-led
Vietnam War gave rise to new normative and policy
perspectives. These rejected bipolar Cold War
mentalities that underpinned much of post-World
War II Western security policy. Changing security
perceptions were paralleled by economic challenges
that resulted from the British accession to the
European Economic Community with its consequent
loss of markets for New Zealand agricultural
products and the increased non-viability of New
Zealand’s post-war controlled economy.

The Lange government’s decision to embrace

neoliberal economic policies and a non-ambiguous
nuclear-free policy established an additional basis
for policy innovation. The non-nuclear policy, which
was entrenched by U.S. bullying, the continued
French nuclear testing at the Moruroa Atoll, and the
bombing of the Greenpeace ship the Rainbow
Warrior in Auckland, led to the dissolution of ANZUS.

At the same time, New Zealand gained an awareness

of the wider range of security, economic, and
environmental challenges. As a small trading nation,
policymakers sought to expand trading opportunities
and a rules-based international trading and
investment regime. New Zealand has worked hard to
lower trade and investment barriers with China as
an important aspect of deepening its economic
relations with Asia generally. It was the �rst country
to agree to China becoming a member of the WTO, it
was the �rst state to recognize that China has a
market economy (the United States and most
European states have not); and it was the �rst
developed country to enter into a comprehensive
free trade agreement (FTA) with China. New Zealand
supported the deepening and expansion of the World
Trade Organization and sought to create a Paci�c-
wide trading regime through the Trans-Paci�c
Partnership.

The independent foreign policy has several elements.

First, as a small power New Zealand supports and
works within international organizations such as the
WTO and the United Nations. While there is a ready
recognition that there are many states which fail to
uphold the international rules-based economic and
security order, the continued commitment to a rules-
based order is considered crucial to prosperity and
security.

Related to this is the idea that New Zealand, as a

liberal free-trading nation, is committed to the
fundamental importance of transparent, open, and
non-discriminatory trade and investment
relationships. Put another way, New Zealand will not
condition trade and investment relationships based
on normative or geostrategic considerations unless
such considerations are adopted by the international
community. These policies are re�ected in New
Zealand FTAs.

Second, New Zealand rejects the presence and use of

any type of nuclear power or nuclear weapons. The
nuclear-free commitment underscores the clear
threat that nuclear power and weapons pose for
humanity as well as demonstrates the e�cacy of
normative considerations for non-proliferation,
nuclear disarmament, and the re-imaging of security
arrangements, especially in the Asia-Paci�c.

Third, New Zealand continues to foster a close

economic and security relationship with Australia,
but will participate with other states such as Canada,
the United Kingdom, and the United States in
military and intelligence activities, such as the Five
Eyes Intelligence Agreement.

And fourth, New Zealand perceives itself as an

engaged honest player among the Paci�c Island
states, and has sought to assist these states as they
address climate change, environmental degradation,
less than adequate governance and consequences of
great power confrontation.

The policy successes – including the rise of the global

nuclear-free movement, the Rarotonga Treaty, the
integration of the Chinese economy into the global
economy, the Comprehensive and Progressive
Agreement for Trans-Paci�c Partnership (CPTPP),
and the enhancement of Indigenous and human
rights – are signi�cant. For many people the ideas
have become part of the New Zealand/Aotearoa
national identity. Yet the need to re-evaluate security
relationships with Australia and other Western states
signi�es an appropriate response to changes in the
international environment. Liberal internationalism
and democracy are clearly under threat. It is
important that New Zealand support and join those
states who continue to support liberal
internationalism and a rules-based order.

Trade and investment have become more politicized

and the notion of “value-neutral” non-discriminatory
trade and investment is more di�cult to carry on in
practice. As such, the issue of trade and investment
asymmetries and dependencies has again become an
important foreign and economic policy
consideration.

Moreover, it appears that China is seeking to remake

the international order and the balance of power in
its Asia-Paci�c neighborhood. Since the ascension of
President Xi Jinping, China has re-emphasized
authoritarian rule and embraced a more insurgent
nationalism. At the rhetorical and normative level,
the Chinese government has rejected the validity and
e�cacy of liberal values, human rights, and Western
models of internationalism. This rejection is
underscored by Beijing’s attempts to in�uence
electoral politics across the region, its support for the
Russian invasion of Ukraine, and its increased
willingness to use force and/or the threats of force in
Taiwan and the South China Sea. New Zealand
cannot avoid the changing international context by
focusing only on its trade and investment
relationships in the Paci�c.

It can be argued that regional polarization is the

product of both U.S. and Chinese misperceptions and
does not concern New Zealand. Moreover, a move
toward a closer relationship with Australia and the
United States along with joining Pillar II of AUKUS
not only misidenti�es the threat to New Zealand’s
national interest (China) but also increases
polarization and the risk of con�ict and threatens
trade with China. Yet such a policy position is not
advanced by clinging to the moniker “independent”
or by embracing the idea that closer security
relationships will undermine the self-determining
nature of New Zealand or make it less democratic.

As discussed above, New Zealand has always

pursued a Western-oriented, liberal-based foreign
policy. Its foreign policy has always been couched
within the liberal-based order, security relationships
with Western states, and appreciation of the position
of small trading states within that order. It was
forged with dissatisfaction with ideology, nuclear-
proliferation, and the inability of Western states
(particularly the United States) to see the real
problems and issues in the Paci�c and the developing
world but was never in opposition to the liberal
international order or Western security cooperation
in itself.

The international context and New Zealand’s

normative and material objectives today, and in the
future, are what policymakers need to consider when
considering Pillar II of AUKUS. In any event, the
emphatic commitment to those foreign policy
elements discussed above, without which New
Zealand would not have an “independent” foreign
policy, substitutes tropes and discourse for real
policy and re�ects an ideological predisposition
instead of clear analysis.

New Zealand foreign policy has always been a

laboratory for small states to have an impact on
global a�airs. It has included realpolitik
considerations as well as other material and
normative elements that have often been hard to
reconcile. It also includes a speci�c commitment to
small state independence and liberal values (both in
security and economic relationships), which neither
preclude additional security commitments nor
mandate a policy premised on avoiding polarizing
competition. Rather the issue is whether the
international environment requires a deeper re-
alignment of foreign policy objectives and
commitments.This analysis has been undertaken by
both Finland and Sweden when they chose to join
NATO, despite their deep historical commitment to
neutrality and foreign policy “independence.” Such
an analysis is not facilitated by a misplaced
commitment to an idealized notion of an
“independent” foreign policy that has been present
in New Zealand policy discourse.

The Authors

is an associate professor of Law at the University

of New England, Australia.

is head of the Political Studies Discipline at the

University of New England, Australia.
Facebook, Richard Marles MP

The island nation is far from alone in

adopting a “look north” policy. It’s time for
Canberra to take a long, hard look at why.
By

The meeting between Solomon Islands’ new Prime

Minister Jeremiah Manale and Australia’s Deputy
Prime Minister Richard Marles in Honiara on May 21
suggested that the change in leadership in the island
nation may have given the two governments an
opportunity to reset their relationship.

Bilateral ties su�ered during the tenure of Manale’s

predecessor, Manasseh Sogavare, a regular critic of
Australia whose decision in early 2022 to enter a
comprehensive security deal with China raised
anxieties in Canberra.

Manale, who co-signed the security pact in his

capacity as Sogovare’s foreign minister, is known to
share the pro-Beijing-bent of his predecessor.
However, the newly elected leader, who previously
worked with Australian o�cials engaged in the
Regional Assistance Mission to the Solomon Islands
(RAMSI), is generally regarded by Australian insiders
and analysts as a less combative �gure and someone
that Canberra can work with.

On this front, Marles' trip to Solomon Islands seemed

to show that Canberra’s ties with the new
administration are o� to a positive start, with Manale
a�rming the “depth and strength” of the bilateral
relationship and telling Marles that “I want to see
our relationship grow to new heights during my
tenure as prime minister.”

Moving forward, at the front and center of e�orts to

rebuild ties are likely to be the areas of security
cooperation, development aid, and budgetary
assistance – each of which were addressed during
the visit. The former in particular has been the focus
of considerable attention since the China-Solomon
Islands security pact. Marles reinforced that the
decision to visit Honiara so soon after the election of
the new prime minister was prompted by Canberra’s
commitment “to be the Solomons’ go-to security
partner.”

But raising the bar on Australia’s aid e�orts is likely

to be no less pivotal for putting ties on a �rmer
footing. During Marles’ visit Manale indicated that he
was especially keen to “fast-track” projects with
partners that would “help Solomon Islands move
forward faster to achieve its economic, social and
security objectives.” He also indicated that “budget
support” will help “further cement our relations.”

On this front there can be no doubt as to the

generosity of Australia’s assistance packages to date –
a fact that Manale acknowledged. Since the
withdrawal of RAMSI in 2017, Australia has provided
over AU$800 million in aid in key areas including
security, health, education, agriculture, and
governance.

Yet while this aid is having an impact, it has been less

than stellar.

The Australian Department of Foreign A�airs and

Trade (DFAT) report for 2022-2023 ranked the
performance of Australia’s development program in
the Solomon Islands as only “adequate” in
e�ectiveness across a majority of categories,
including health and education. None achieved a
“very good” rating. 2023’s Final Investment
Monitoring Report for the Solomon Islands
Governance Program delivered a “less than
adequate” rating.

Yet these modest ratings likely exceed what for some

are visceral appraisals of Australian aid programs’
performance. Australia is, of course, not fully
responsible for outcomes that are contingent on
governance and policy decisions in another
sovereign nation. Yet the cold reality is that despite
decades of assistance to the tune of several billion
dollars, Solomon Islands remains one of the most
poverty-stricken nations in the most aid-reliant
region on the planet. This is borne out not only by
anecdotal observations but also by statistics, with
Solomon Islands’ per capita GDP well below that of
Papua New Guinea, less than half of those of Tonga
and Samoa, and a bit over a third of the GDPs of
Tuvalu and Fiji.

All this gave a leg up to Sogavare, who has long

insisted that Australian assistance has fueled
dependency as opposed to moving the nation toward
economic self-determination. This judgment fed into
his hallmark “look north” campaign policy, which
promoted reducing reliance on Australian aid by
expanding trade and investment links with China.
His party’s substantial seat losses in the last election,
while no doubt the result of a number of factors and
not just foreign policy, means that the broader
popularity of this view is questionable. But it should
trouble Canberra, nonetheless, that this has now
become a recurring theme in the Melanesian sphere.

The “look north” policy is actually the namesake of a

number of policies taken up over the last few
decades in Melanesia, the �rst being that adopted by
Papua New Guinea (PNG) in the early 1990s. This
occurred as PNG’s economy and relationship with
Australia’s Paul Keating-led government su�ered
concurrent crises. PNG’s leader at the time, Paias
Wingti, according to a DFAT o�cial, appeared at the
time to feel that Australia was “holding PNG back
economically” – perhaps an accusation that Canberra
was fueling aid dependency. He was also apparently
“happy to see Australian in�uence diluted, especially
in the economy.”

In the next decade a “look north” policy was adopted

by another government whose relationship with
Australia was in crisis: Fiji. This occurred after the
Australian government pushed a hard line in
response to a coup that toppled Fiji’s government in
late 2006, including a reduction in state aid and
security cooperation. Yet, according to some experts,
underlying Fiji’s new policy was a broader aspiration
for tapping into global markets to expand the
nation’s agency and economic determination. This
intersected with China’s push into the Paci�c through
its Belt and Road Initiative, and was a precursor to
Fiji entering tighter, and prolonged, security
cooperation with China.

Canberra would of course counter claims that it is

intentionally holding nations in the region back – or
under its sway – through its aid regime. Yet
underlying this recurring perception problem among
Melanesian elites is that while individual programs
have delivered untold bene�ts to local communities,
the big picture of Australia’s aid performance in the
Paci�c is not �attering.

The reality is that the Melanesian sphere, which with

a few exceptions has been the primary focus of
Australia’s Paci�c aid, is generally poorer, on a per
capita basis, than its Polynesian and Micronesian
peers – which are more in�uenced by New Zealand
and the United States, respectively, with Fiji the only
exception. Mountains of health aid also failed to
prevent a substantial widening of the gap between
life expectancy in Paci�c Island countries and the
global average. On top of this, several nations that
are recipients of Australian assistance in and just
outside the Melanesian sphere have some of the
worst infant mortality rates outside of Africa.

Each of these issues is of signi�cant concern in its

own right. Yet together they may have also played a
key role in past failures in an area that is of primary
concern to Canberra: regional stability. Infant
mortality, GDP per capita, and life expectancy have
each been identi�ed by researchers as predictors of
political instability.

In view of this, it is notable that when Papua New

Guinea, Fiji, and Solomon Islands separately adopted
“look north” policies or penned comprehensive
security deals with China, it was in each case only
several years after major social and political
disturbances. In PNG, “look north” emerged during
the ongoing Bougainville con�ict and amid years of
growing instability and lawlessness following a
painful economic transition from an agrarian to a
resources-based capitalist economy. In Fiji’s case, it
was adopted in the wake of the latest of a series of
coups. And in Solomon Islands, the security deal with
China came after years of internal strife, suppressed
with some success thanks to the Australian-led
RAMSI, yet which reemerged after Honiara agreed to
shift diplomatic recognition from Taiwan to the
People’s Republic of China.

Poor performance in relation to the economic and

health-related predictors of social instability also
appear to correlate with Paci�c Island countries’
decisions to draw closer to Beijing. When the
Solomon Islands and Kiribati switched diplomatic
allegiances from Taipei to Beijing in 2019, both of the
Paci�c Island nations languished near the bottom of
the region’s league table in terms of GDP per capita.
Kiribati, alongside Papua New Guinea, was also a
poor performer in global comparisons in life
expectancy, and both nations, along with Timor-
Leste, have the highest infant mortality rates in the
region. Timor-Leste and Papua New Guinea are also
among the region’s poorest nations on a per capita
basis.

Notably the latter two have also recently shifted in

China’s direction on security. Timor-Leste, which
Singapore’s foreign minister last year said was
“virtually a failing state,” saw its Prime Minister
Xanana Gusmao last year agree to sign a joint China-
Timor-Leste pact that upgraded the two nations’
relationship to a “comprehensive strategic
partnership” and enhanced military cooperation.
Soon after, Timor-Leste’s President José Ramos-Horta
revealed that he had taken the initiative to ask
Beijing’s help to develop police and military
infrastructure.

Earlier in May it was revealed that Australian

diplomats scrambled to head o� a policing deal
between China and Papua New Guinea, several
months after widespread riots broke out in PNG’s
capital, Port Moresby.

To the extent that denying China a security foothold

in the region is a core aim of Australia’s regional aid
diplomacy, these factors arguably support a di�erent
take on what should be the priorities of Canberra’s
assistance programs. Instead of investing in aid to
in�uence the foreign policies of nations that in more
recent times have patently placed a premium on
their own agency, Australian aid should perhaps
foremost target the causes of instability that could
lead Paci�c Island countries to barter their
sovereignty for security. Put another way, Australia
should seek to study and identify factors like those
mentioned above that tend to make Paci�c Islands
unstable, and devise an outcome-focused approach
that prioritizes improvements in those areas.

There are practical reasons for doing so. The �rst is

that while Canberra exacts some diplomatic capital
through “outbidding” China on the aid front, this is
not a winning strategy for the long term. Unless
Australia can enlist investment in the region from
more powerful allies, most of which have less
strategic skin in the game, economic asymmetries
mean that Canberra has little chance of out-
competing Beijing’s aid diplomacy should the latter
pull out all stops to increase its in�uence.

And while Canberra also currently wins out in

experience and capabilities on the aid front, Beijing
has been exploring ways to up its game, especially in
the area of health diplomacy, where it is encouraging
research and building up smaller programs, such as
earlier engagements between Solomon Islands health
o�cials and the Guizhou Medical University. Again,
asymmetries of resources and personnel make the
long term prospects of Australia out competing China
on this front a risky bet.
Second, while adaptability and responsiveness are
always essential virtues in development assistance
planning, devising aid programs around a sharper
organizing concept could make programs more
focused, coherent, and directed at tangible, outcome-
based metrics.

But last and most important, by focusing on

strengthening the stability and by extension the
agency of Paci�c Island nations, such a strategy is
likely to bring Australia and Paci�c Island leaders’
aims and interests into better alignment. That, in
turn, will pave the way for less skepticism and closer
engagement to achieve outcomes that serve both
Paci�c Island nations’ and Canberra’s collective
security interests. Building trust in this way may also
bolster Australia’s aspirations to remain the region’s
“security partner of choice.”

Such an approach may encounter resistance in

Canberra, which is still committed, through its
Stronger Paci�c Family policy, to “winning” in its
“strategic competition” with Beijing in the region. Yet
there are few signs that this is an agenda that Paci�c
Island countries are enthusiastically behind. Better
targeting aid to help Paci�c Island nations feel more
secure about their future, by investing in mitigating
potential causes of crises and not just bolstering
capacities to respond to them, could better position
these countries to resist intrusive security deals that
could compromise their sovereignty and threaten
Australia’s security interests.

Doing so means investing trust in the premium

Paci�c Island countries place, in the absence of
existential security concerns, on retaining the
“friends to all” policy they see as being pivotal to
maximizing their agency. If the history of “look
north” policies are anything to go by, it is at least
better to be seen as a facilitator of agency than a
perceived impediment to it.
The Author

is a researcher at the University of Technology

Sydney’s Australia-China Relations Institute.
Depositphotos

While political relations have improved,

Australian public opinion on China remains
generally negative.
By

Chinese Premier Li Qiang’s visit to Australia from

June 15-18 highlighted the continuing e�orts by both
Beijing and Canberra to maintain a working
relationship. But while political tensions have
thawed since the trough in relations between 2016
and early 2022, Australian public opinion on China
remains generally negative.

The results of the newly-released UTS:ACRI/BIDA Poll

2024 by the Australia-China Relations Institute and
the Centre for Business Intelligence & Data Analytics
at the University of Technology Sydney reveal just
how deep Australians’ mistrust of China continues to
be.

Now in its fourth year, the poll surveyed 2,015

Australian adults across all states and territories on
their views on various aspects of the Australia-China
relationship, including overall views on the bilateral
relationship, political communication, security, the
triangular Australia-U.S.-China relationship, trade
and investment, society, university and research,
relations with Southeast Asian nations and Paci�c
Island nations, and global and regional cooperation.

Seventy-one percent of Australians say that China is a

security threat to Australia. This is not surprising:
Australia’s recent experience with China’s campaign
of economic coercion and “wolf warrior” diplomacy
can hardly be expected to be forgotten, even as
Beijing’s punitive tari�s on Australian exports are
gradually released and dialogue has resumed at the
leadership level.

A growing number of Australians believe that either

the United States or China will force the country to
choose between close relations with Washington or
Beijing, but they are relatively evenly split on which
of the great powers will force the issue, with 52
percent stating that such a choice will be forced by
China and 47 percent nominating the U.S. Another
Trump presidency is deemed likely to render that
dilemma more acute, with just over two-thirds of
Australians (67 percent) saying that the Australian
government’s balancing of its relationships with
China and the U.S. will be made more di�cult if
Donald Trump returns to the White House early next
year.

That half of those polled believe a con�ict with China

is a “serious possibility” in the next three years
serves as testament to how deeply rooted the
national anxiety about China is.

Such a sentiment is unlikely to dissipate as countries

like Australia, and others, continue to wrestle with
the nature of China’s military power and its strategic
intentions. There is a perception, though, that China’s
regional in�uence is slipping. Fifty-�ve percent of
Australians say that China has more in�uence than
the United States in Australia’s regional
neighborhood, which, while still relatively high,
re�ects a steady decrease in agreement with this
view over the last four years, down from a high of 65
percent in 2021.

Although one-third of Australians (33 percent)

believe the bilateral relationship may improve
somewhat over coming years, more generally
Australians continue to adopt a guarded stance
toward relations with Beijing. They are still content
to reap the bene�ts of the economic relationship and
cultivate business ties – though even faith in these
dimensions is diminishing. Nearly three-quarters of
those polled see Australia as too economically reliant
on China and the nexus between the relationship and
underlying Australian economic prosperity shows
mild signs of strain. This year, 54 percent of
Australians said that without close economic
engagement with China, Australia would not be as
prosperous as it currently is, down nine points from
a high of 63 percent in 2021.

Australians are also unsupportive of the Australian

government’s decision to allow Chinese-owned
company Landbridge’s lease of the Port of Darwin to
continue. Only 26 percent of Australians said that the
Australian government was right not to cancel or
vary the 99-year lease, and just over six in 10
Australians (62 percent) said the Australian
government should force Landbridge to sell the port
back to the government.

Overall, Australians remain strongly wary of and

concerned by Chinese leader Xi Jinping’s more
assertive foreign policy, particularly in the areas of
foreign interference, espionage, and the use of social
media and communications platforms such as TikTok
and WeChat. About two-thirds of Australians
identi�ed espionage and foreign interference by
China as a major problem, and six in 10 Australians
(59 percent) support a nationwide ban on TikTok and
WeChat. A majority (68 percent) continue to want
sanctions on Chinese o�cials and entities involved in
human rights violations.

Half of those polled support higher defense spending,

even if that means budget cuts in other portfolios.
Support for AUKUS – the alliance linking Australia,
the U.S., and the United Kingdom – is inching up even
as the Australia-China relationship is viewed as a net
positive for regional stability and as support for a
containment strategy slips.

And the number of those who believe Canberra

should remain neutral in any military contingency
over Taiwan in which the U.S. is militarily engaged
fell to 43 percent, down six points from 49 percent
last year. Washington policymakers will be keenly
watching that number now and into the future.

The poll does not necessarily award high marks to

the governing Labor Party for its policy of
“stabilization” of relations with China, though it does
register relatively strong support for the two
countries discussing their di�erences via traditional
diplomacy, not by picking up the megaphone.

The gap that opened up in 2023 between support for

the Australian Labor Party and support for the
Liberal/National coalition as the best placed to
handle Australia’s China policy seems to be closing
this year. Forty percent of Australians nominated the
Australian Labor Party as the political party best
placed to handle Australia’s China policy, down from
49 percent in 2023. Thirty-four percent said the
Liberal/National coalition is best placed to handle
Australia’s China policy, up from 29 percent last year.
This perhaps indicates that the public wants a
stronger government response, at least in some
instances.

The public may well be registering that when it

comes to the Albanese government’s formula for the
relationship – “cooperate where we can, disagree
where we must” – it is hearing much more the
former than the latter from its political leaders.

The Author

is a senior researcher at the Australia-China

Relations Institute at the University of Technology Sydney.
Associated Press, Alex Brandon

As the G-7 seeks to set global standards,

including on tech issues, it should be
mindful of the diversity of the moral
compass in the Indo-Paci�c.
By

Should AI answer to a higher, moral authority?

With the �rst papal presence at a G-7 summit

meeting this year, the debate about man vs machine
has only intensi�ed. During the summit in Italy in
June, Pope Francis warned that uncontrolled
development and reliance on arti�cial intelligence
would be destructive to civilization itself.
 “We would condemn humanity to a future without
hope if we took away people’s ability to make
decisions about themselves and their lives, by
dooming them to depend on the choices of
machines,” he stated before the leaders of the world’s
richest nations. “We need to ensure and safeguard a
space for proper human control over the choices
made by arti�cial intelligence programs: Human
dignity itself depends on it.”

In light of Pope Francis’ high-pro�le participation, it’s

worth noting that Japan remains not only the sole
non-Western country of the G-7, but also the only
nation in the group that does not have a cultural
foundation based on Christianity, let alone
Catholicism. To be sure, the six other member
countries are also secular democracies that espouse
the freedom of religious belief. Yet in the United
States, Canada, France, Britain, Germany, and Italy,
Christmas remains a national holiday, and Judeo-
Christian values continue to provide the guiding
principles of their justice systems and the ethics that
bind their societies together.

In the Indo-Paci�c, including in Japan, however,

December 25 is just another day on the calendar, and
Christianity remains a minority religion, even though
it has played a not insigni�cant part in shaping the
norms of societies across the region. For instance, an
outsized number of educational institutions,
especially in secondary and tertiary levels for
women, continue to be in�uenced by the legacy of
missionaries in the �eld. Still, when it comes to social
values, it is Confucianist principles that resonate
more strongly and bind those in East Asia. Indeed, a
more authoritative religious �gure to o�er moral
clarity for the subregion could potentially be the
Dalai Lama, rather than the Pope.

But the Indo-Paci�c is diverse not only in its stages of

economic development, but in its religious beliefs
and indeed values. So as the G-7 seeks to enhance its
legitimacy and in�uence as a gathering of countries
focused on cross-border issues, it should be mindful
of the diversity of the moral compass as it reaches
out to the Global South.

In South and Southeast Asia, Christianity is a

minority religion and looked to with trepidation, if
not outright hostility. Concern from Muslim majority
countries, including Indonesia, over the past year has
been particularly striking as religious favoritism by
Western powers show no signs of waning.

It is therefore imperative to acknowledge the

di�erences in values that stem from divergent
religions and ideologies, even when advancing rules
for technology governance. At the latest summit
meeting in Borgo Egnazia, countries including
Algeria, Kenya, and Mauritania were invited to join
the world’s richest nations. To be sure, the United
States remains at the forefront of developing AI and
U.S.-based companies including Open AI as well as
Google and Meta are the driving force of shaping
advanced technology. Still, as global competition for
AI development intensi�es on the one hand, and use
of the technology expands worldwide, the values that
underpin what humanity ultimately wants from
advanced technology are not universal.

Just as there is an ever-increasing overlap between

national security concerns and economic interests,
questions regarding morality and the human spirit
are becoming increasingly intertwined with the
governance of AI. Developing technologies that
ultimately have a goal of enhancing e�ciencies are
not a natural partner to philosophical and indeed
religious debate. But as the advancement of AI leads
to more concerns about what is right and wrong,
there is a growing need to acknowledge and include
the divergent ideologies that provide the ethical
foundations governing societies.
By addressing the moral quandary posed by AI, Pope
Francis has brought the moral challenges that are
posed by advanced technology. The ethics of AI and
what humanity expects from technology will be a
growing challenge for the world, and the voices to
bring those moral qualms to the forefront should not
be limited to a single religious �gure or indeed a
religious group.

The Author

is director of the Indo-Paci�c Program at the Wilson

Center.
Depositphotos

It seems unlikely Trump 2.0 would upend

security structures in the region. In trade
and commerce, however, Trump’s potential
return has Asian o�cials and observers
hugely worried.
By and

The United States is in the middle of campaign

season for an election whose outcome could very
well signi�cantly alter Washington’s diplomatic,
security, and economic orientation vis-à-vis Asia. The
specter of a second presidency for Donald Trump,
especially, has U.S. allies and “like-minded” partners
in Asia worried. His “America First” approach is well-
established, and media reports have warned that a
second administration might well be one of “Trump
unhinged.”

Ideas and policy proposals circulated by think tanks

in the United States that are aligned with Trump and
his “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) slogan can
give us a preview into a second Trump term.
Drawing on such materials, we argue that it is a
potential escalation of a trade war with China, rather
than military brinkmanship, that will most likely
have the biggest impact not only on China-U.S.
relations but on the entire region.

In the �eld of security and defense, Trump’s potential

return to the White House would most certainly pose
a challenge for U.S. allies and “like-minded” partners,
which in the past have relied on the U.S. for
balancing or hedging against a growing Chinese
assertiveness in the region.

First, a reinvigoration of Trump’s “America First”

doctrine, coupled with a transactional view on
alliances and partnerships, could prompt at least a
gradual scaling back of U.S. military presence in
cases where U.S. allies or partners are deemed to
“free ride” on U.S. security guarantees. Trump is
expected to pressure Japan and South Korea to
increase their �nancial contributions for the
stationing of U.S. troops, particularly targeting South
Korea, which he has accused of enjoying a “free
ride.”

Trump himself, in a recent interview, considered the

complete withdrawal of U.S. troops from South
Korea. He has said as much and also halted joint
military exercises with South Korea in the past. A
similar, perhaps more assertive, stance might be
adopted again if he returns to power. At least
partially in response to this (as well as to a general
rise in regional tensions) Tokyo and Seoul have
begun to raise their defense spending substantively.

However, NATO allies in Europe, rather than U.S.

allies in Asia, will most likely bear the brunt of a
Trump 2.0 security and defense policy. Trump
believes that European allies in particular have made
the U.S. carry most of the costs for Europe’s defense
over the past decades.

While Trump has refused to answer whether the

United States will come to Taiwan’s aid in case of an
invasion launched by Beijing, MAGA-aligned think
tank experts propose that Taiwan should continue to
receive considerable diplomatic and military support
from Washington to deter China. Taiwan will also
almost certainly remain a major regional geopolitical
�ashpoint as well as a bone of contention in China-
U.S. relations for years to come. Likewise, Trump’s
stance on the South China Sea and commitment to
the alliance with the Philippines is expected to
remain �rm.

The possibility of re-engaging with North Korean

leader Kim Jong Un through summits remains
uncertain due to the failure of the previous Hanoi
summit. Instead, it is suggested that under a second
Trump administration, Washington needs to openly
challenge the evolving North Korea-Russia-China
partnership.

Trump will also very likely maintain the general

adversarial stance vis-à-vis China that shaped his
�rst term in o�ce as well as that of the current U.S.
administration under Biden. After all, the overall
strategic aim of retaining Washington’s pre-eminent
position in the region through the pursuit of military
primacy has broad bipartisan support in the United
States.
With regard to the U.S. Free and Open Indo-Paci�c
strategy, Trump’s security policies are expected to
align closely with Biden’s, particularly regarding
support for minilateral initiatives aimed at balancing
or deterring China such as AUKUS and the Quad.
However, there might be an increase in bilateral or
regional military exercises among allies like Japan
and Australia, who are wary of Trump’s
unpredictable decision-making.

Enhanced security cooperation with India is also

likely, given Trump’s rapport with Prime Minister
Narendra Modi – who just began his third term in
o�ce – and India’s strategic role in countering China.
This includes suggestions to waive the Countering
America’s Adversaries Through Sanctions Act
(CAATSA) sanctions imposed on India over its
purchases of Russian arms to allow India greater
access to the U.S. defense industry market.

At the same time, however, it is unlikely that a Trump

2.0. administration will be able (and willing) to alter
the relative decline in U.S. military power in Asia that
the region has witnessed over the last decades. The
United States has only gradually increased its
military presence in the region since the end of the
Cold War.

Trump might increase the number of U.S. missile

interceptors and nuclear-capable ballistic missiles
deployed in the region to counter the dual threats of
Chinese aggression toward Taiwan and North Korea’s
nuclear capabilities. Trump might also implement, at
least partially, his idea to deploy more U.S. naval
ships in the Indo-Paci�c to counter China’s growing
military presence in the region. None of this,
however, will alter the relative decline of U.S.
military power. Neither is it likely that Trump would
be able or willing to revise what the Lowy Institute’s
Sam Roggeveen called the “absolute decline in
American resolve.”
While the changes in U.S. foreign policy put forward
by MAGA-aligned think tanks would certainly pose
challenges for Asian allies and partners, the ideas
�oated do not have the potential to signi�cantly alter
the structures or practices of security cooperation in
Asia. In the �eld of trade and commerce, however,
Trump’s potential return has Asian o�cials and
observers hugely worried.

Almost all Asian states have over the last two

decades derived increasing trade and investment
from China to the extent that regional supply and
value chains have become increasingly China-
centric. The ideas �oated regarding a 10 percent
across-the-board tari� on U.S. imports, with even
higher rates on goods from China, have set alarm
bells ringing.

While the Biden administration recently imposed a

set of new tari�s on Chinese-made electric vehicles
and related components, MAGA-aligned think tanks
as well as Trump himself have suggested his
administration would increase tari�s on China
further. They seek to tackle what they perceive as
Beijing’s “strategy for global dominance” with even
more tari�s, an assertive trade policy, and a further
decoupling of American supply chains from China.

Seeing the United States as locked in a zero sum

game with China, MAGA think tankers suggest it
should be U.S. policy to ultimately harm China’s
economy. Rather than managing competition with
China, Washington under a new Trump
administration should win the competition instead.

As Washington intensi�es e�orts to reduce its trade

with China through hiking tari�s, Chinese exports to,
and imports from, the rest of Asia would likely
increase as a result. And exports from other Asian
states, who often rely on Chinese imports for many of
their exports, to the United States will likely increase
further. For example, exports to the U.S. from
countries like Vietnam or Indonesia have surged as a
result of Trump’s �rst “trade war” with China,
leading to growing trade imbalances.

However, reducing trade surpluses with the United

States – with China and the EU especially, but also
other states – is a designated core interest of Trump.
A Trump administration would very likely put Asian
countries with trade surpluses like Japan, South
Korea, Vietnam, or Indonesia under the spotlight.

MAGA-aligned think tanks have also proposed the

introduction of a “U.S. Reciprocal Trade Act.” This
would allow a future Trump administration to
impose tari�s on countries that refuse to lower
theirs. This approach would adversely a�ect U.S.
allies like Japan and South Korea, but also other
countries like India would be impacted. Trump has
speci�cally criticized India’s high tari� rates,
referring to it as the “tari� king.” It has also been
suggested that the U.S. Congress should review
China’s permanent normal trade relations (PNTR)
status, which gives China preferential trade
treatment via, for example, lower tari�s or the
absence of import quotas.

The Indo-Paci�c Economic Framework (IPEF),

launched by the Biden administration, is widely
regarded as a positive initiative by the think tank
community. However, there are calls for modifying
the IPEF to focus more on trade issues and reduce the
emphasis on non-trade topics such as climate change.
Meanwhile, Trump himself has threatened to
withdraw the U.S. from the IPEF, echoing his
previous decision to exit the Trans-Paci�c
Partnership (TPP) during his �rst term in o�ce.

The IPEF, unveiled in May 2022 by President Joe

Biden, has been viewed as the lynchpin of a
broadening of stronger economic U.S. engagement in
the region, with the intention of providing Asian
states with an alternative to China’s growing
economic dominance. The proposed collapse of IPEF
could have far-reaching consequences for the
regional economic order.

Initially launched to enhance economic integration,

supply chain resilience, and sustainable
development, IPEF is seen as a critical tool for
countering China’s growing in�uence. U.S. partners
had high expectations for the framework to deliver
tangible bene�ts, such as robust supply chains,
collaborative decarbonization e�orts, and fair
economic practices. However, the possibility of a U.S.
withdrawal raises not only serious questions about
American reliability but also increased economic
overdependence on China by Asian states – a
scenario many Asian policymakers seek to avoid.

MAGA-aligned think tanks also propose further

economic decoupling from China as well as increased
“friend-shoring” of U.S. trade and investment. This
would amount to changes in the regional supply
chains as goods would be re-routed to or assembled
in other states, which in turn could lead to increased
exports from India and Southeast Asia to the United
States. Vietnam, with its already signi�cant trade
surplus with the U.S., could be heavily a�ected,
particularly in its electronics sector. However, it
would very likely also tie those economies more
closely to China, because that’s where much of the
capital, supply chains, and funding of new
infrastructure will come from.

It has also been suggested to use USAID assistance

strategically to counter China’s Belt and Road
Initiative (BRI), providing aid only to countries loyal
to Trump or the U.S. government. This transactional
approach to foreign aid could further strain bilateral
relationships with developing countries in Asia and
undermine the broader U.S. strategic positioning. If
Trump pressures Asian countries to economically
align with the U.S., their strong economic ties with
China might push them closer to Beijing, thereby
further bolstering China’s in�uence.

In conclusion, if the proposed policies and

instruments outlined above were to be applied by a
Trump 2.0 administration this could signi�cantly
alter the strategic landscape in Asia. Close
examination of the ideas �oated by MAGA-aligned
think tanks suggests that changes pertaining to the
region’s strategic landscape will be visible in various
policy areas with trade and commerce particularly
a�ected. It is in this �eld where MAGA-aligned think
tanks have �oated the most drastic proposals.

This is because instead of managing the competition

with China, various think tanks suggest that
Washington’s general strategy should shift to outright
winning the competition. In the process, China’s
economy is to be hollowed out through tari�s,
decoupling of supply chains, and other measures.
The proposal made by Trump himself to withdraw
from IPEF and the potential introduction of a U.S.
Reciprocal Trade Act could further negatively impact
regional supply chains and economic stability.

The obvious limitations of our analysis stem from the

unpredictability of Trump’s decision-making style
and the potentially diverse, heterogeneous reactions
in Asia if the aforementioned policies and
instruments were to be applied. Nonetheless, even if
some of the proposals outlined above never
transition from the “chattering class” into policy, they
do contribute to a further shift in the public debate
by further normalizing economic nationalism,
launching a trade war with China and entrenching
zero-sum great power confrontation as the prime
strategic frame of reference of U.S. foreign policy.

The Authors

is an Erasmus + Research Intern at the German Institute

for International and Security A�airs. He is a Master’s student in
World Politics and International Relations at the University of Pavia.

is the head of the Asia Research Division at the German

Institute for International and Security A�airs.
The White House, Adam Schultz

The political conditions in the U.S. aren’t

quite right – and China doesn’t seem
receptive to such outreach, rendering it an
unnecessary option for the time being.
By

Backroom diplomacy has long been a key element in

China-U.S. relations. Since U.S. National Security
Advisor Henry Kissinger’s secret visit to China in
1971, the United States has employed this discreet
approach to ease tensions between the two nations
several times. Compared to formal diplomacy,
backroom diplomacy often yields unexpected
positive outcomes as its high level of secrecy fosters
an environment conducive to more e�cient and
�exible negotiations, particularly in times of
heightened tension when formal channels may be
less e�ective.

U.S. leaders often prefer to keep discussions with

China secret, notably when policies face criticism
from Congress, the media, and public opinion.
However, not all diplomacy occurs behind closed
doors. Formal diplomacy is necessary for great
powers like the United States and China to
demonstrate their capability to shape negotiations
and outcomes. Diplomacy is perhaps the most
misunderstood instrument employed to manage
foreign relations, as it unfolds out of sight and out of
mind, yet in democracies like the United States,
formal diplomacy also embodies policy transparency.
As advocated by former President Barack Obama,
practicing openness in diplomacy helps showcase
legitimacy to partners and the public and ensure
government accountability.

Hence, astute U.S. leaders recognize that backroom

diplomacy should be used judiciously. Successful
backroom diplomacy hinges on �nesse, politesse, and
perhaps most importantly, timing. For U.S. presidents
to initiate backroom diplomacy with China, two key
conditions must be met: they must have a strong
political determination to improve China-U.S.
relations, and there must be substantial domestic
pressure opposing such improvements.

One of the most prominent examples of backroom

diplomacy is then-President Richard Nixon’s e�ort to
reopen relations with China. Once an ardent anti-
communist senator, Nixon evolved into a grand
strategist prioritizing geopolitics upon taking o�ce.
Recognizing that China could be leveraged against
the Soviet Union and that both Moscow and Beijing
could pressure North Vietnam, he took steps toward
China-U.S. normalization. First, he relaxed the trade
and travel restrictions that had been imposed on
China in 1950, and then he resumed Sino-American
talks in Warsaw in December 1969 after a two-year
suspension.

In the meantime, despite a growing congressional

trend toward being more receptive to China policy
reform in the late 1960s, resistance to opening up to
China still prevailed in the United States. For
example, when Representative Paul Findley
proposed the “East-West Trade Relations Act of 1969”
to use trade as a means to normalize relations with
China, it was never passed.

Confronted with signi�cant domestic pressure, Nixon

understood that his e�orts to normalize China-U.S.
relations could back�re if not carefully managed.
Unlike his predecessors, John F. Kennedy and Lyndon
B. Johnson, whose attempts to shift China policy were
thwarted by domestic opposition, Nixon tenaciously
pursued his geopolitical ambition via backroom
diplomacy. Ultimately, his approach proved
successful both domestically and internationally.

Other U.S. presidents who have employed backroom

diplomacy with China include Jimmy Carter and
George H. W. Bush. Like Nixon, they demonstrated
strong political determination to improve China-U.S.
relations despite facing signi�cant domestic
pressure. Now, as the bilateral relationship reaches
another critical juncture, the question arises: should
the current U.S. president, Joe Biden, initiate a fresh
round of backroom diplomacy?

The crux still rests on the two aforementioned

conditions. First, does Biden possess the strong
political determination to improve the Sino-
American relationship? Yes and no.

In the short term, the Biden administration is

actively navigating the United States’ China policy
from “decoupling” to “de-risking.” This strategic shift
is not solely driven by the necessity for a stronger
economic rapport with the world’s second-largest
powerhouse to stabilize the U.S. economy. It also
re�ects a desire for a more collaborative China in the
Indo-Paci�c, aimed at dampening tensions
surrounding the Ukraine-Russia war and the Taiwan
Strait.

In the longer term, Biden’s stance on fundamentally

reshaping China-U.S. relations remains ambiguous.
Not only has his administration retained Trump-era
China tari�s and enacted China-countering bills such
as the CHIPS and Science Act, it also strengthened
U.S. alliances in the Indo-Paci�c in response to
China’s increasing assertiveness. In contrast with the
overt “all-encompassing decoupling” policy toward
China in the �nal year of the Trump administration,
the Biden administration has employed a more
�exible and nuanced approach to China, described
by Secretary of State Antony Blinken as being
“competitive when it should be, collaborative when it
can be, and adversarial when it must be.”

Second, does Biden face signi�cant domestic

pressure against improving the Sino-American
relationship? Not necessarily. While anti-China
sentiment may appear pervasive, partisan divisions
over China are becoming increasingly evident, both
within the general public and among political elites.
Despite claims that Congress has generated around
400 anti-China bills in recent years, the majority of
these are merely “performative legislation” with little
impact.

Moreover, despite the purported bipartisan tough

stance on China, the Biden administration’s e�orts to
ease tensions with China �nd greater acceptance
among Democrats. Unlike Nixon, Carter, and the
senior Bush, Biden encounters less ideological
resistance against China as he seeks to improve
bilateral ties. In an era of deep economic
interdependence between the two countries, Biden’s
China policy might even attract support from
Republicans.

In addition to the two aforementioned conditions,

another crucial factor is the anticipated response
from Chinese leaders. U.S. leaders are more likely to
initiate backroom diplomacy when they anticipate at
least receptive, if not entirely positive, reactions from
their Chinese counterparts, no matter how small
those responses are.

When Nixon was laying the groundwork for opening

back channels to China through the U.S. ambassador
to Poland, Walter Stoessel, Chinese Premier Zhou
Enlai responded cautiously by approving the release
of two Americans who had been detained in China
for months after their yacht had strayed into Chinese
territorial waters near Hong Kong. Recognizing this
signal from across the Paci�c Ocean, Kissinger
swiftly moved forward with Nixon to the next step.
Similar receptive responses could also be found
when Carter and the senior Bush sought backroom
dialogues with China.

The unfortunate reality is that both countries are

currently gripped by nationalistic sentiments. The
United States emphasizes its global leadership in
defending democracy against authoritarianism,
while China challenges the global order with its
“China Model.” Controversial issues such as Taiwan
and human rights have become unavoidable topics
in nearly every recent bilateral talk, with neither
side willing to yield ground. As the areas of
irreconcilability widen, the likelihood of American
leaders expecting receptive responses from their
Chinese counterparts sharply declines, rendering
backroom diplomacy an unnecessary option for the
time being.

As the 2024 U.S. presidential election approaches,

both Democrats and Republicans are expected to
double down on their use of the “China Card” to
avoid appearing weak on China issues and score
political points. With limited incentives to change the
status quo, perhaps a major breakthrough in the
current bilateral relationship will only emerge after
the election, whether through formal or backroom
diplomacy.

The Author

is a Ph.D. candidate in Political Science at Tulane

University.
Wikimedia Commons, Ishikawa Toraji

Given rising concerns about a Taiwan

emergency, it’s worth revisiting the last
full-scale invasion of the island in 1895.
By

Chinese military aircraft have repeatedly entered

Taiwan’s air defense identi�cation zone, and China
has conducted several large military exercises
around Taiwan in the past two years. Most recently,
on May 23 and 24, the Chinese military and coast
guard held a large-scale military exercise, code-
named Joint Sword-2024A, around Taiwan’s main
island and the Taiwanese outlying islands of Kinmen,
Matsu, Wuqiu, and Dongyin in the Taiwan Strait.

With the drills, China stepped up military pressure

against Taiwan’s new president, Lai Ching-te, whom
Beijing considers a “Taiwan independence”
separatist. Lai was inaugurated on May 20.

Xi Jinping, who became president of China in March

2013, has set “reuni�cation” with Taiwan as a policy
goal. Xi has publicly talked about the possibility of an
armed reuni�cation, rather than a peaceful
settlement, on several occasions. There is widespread
speculation that the Xi administration will employ
force to unify Taiwan with China by 2027, the 100th
anniversary of the People’s Liberation Army’s
founding.

Taiwan has never been invaded by a large-scale

foreign military force in modern times.

However, one month after Taiwan was ceded to

Japan in the Treaty of Shimonoseki, which was
signed between the Qing Dynasty and the Empire of
Japan in April 1895 to end the First Sino-Japanese
War, remnants of the Qing Dynasty and some local
Taiwanese residents staged an armed uprising in
opposition to the cession. The Meiji government of
Japan dispatched its army, navy, and air force to
carry out a paci�cation operation.

This incident is called “Taiwan Heitei” in Japanese,

meaning the Taiwan Paci�cation Campaign of 1895.
Meanwhile, it is called the Yiwei War in Chinese
(1895 was the year of Yiwei in the Chinese 60-year
astrological cycle).

From a military perspective, there are precious

lessons that we can infer from this historical incident
in preparation for China’s invasion of Taiwan.

The remnants of the Qing Dynasty in Taiwan sought

Taiwanese independence and declared the
establishment of the “Democratic State of Formosa”
in May 1895. The Taiwanese military force consisted
of about 33,000, but the exact number of military
volunteers in Taiwan is unknown. The o�cial war
history published by the Imperial Japanese Army
General Sta� O�ce in 1907 suggested that there may
have been tens of thousands of militia troops.

The problems began with their weapons. Firearms

were not widely distributed among the volunteer
soldiers. Even including hunting ri�es, only about
30-40 percent had �rearms, and the rest fought with
swords, and metal or bamboo spears.

By contrast, the Japanese military dispatched about

50,000 army soldiers and 26,000 military porters
(laborers) to Taiwan. In the battle, the number of
Japanese soldiers killed or wounded, including those
who died of disease, reached 5,320, and the number
of military laborers killed reached 7,000. On the
other hand, the Taiwanese side su�ered a total of
14,000 deaths, including volunteer soldiers and
residents, according to Japanese historians.

The second problem is Taiwan’s topography. About

three-quarters of Taiwan’s land area is mountainous
and hilly, with the remaining quarter being �at land.
The �at land stretches to the west facing the Taiwan
Strait.

The plains on the west side were suitable for the

landing and movement of troops. After occupying
Taipei in June 1895, the Japanese army occupied
Hsinchu in early August, Changhua at the end of
August, Chiayi in early October, and Tainan in late
October. This line connecting Taipei, Hsinchu,
Changhua, Chiayi, and Tainan is the main artery of
Taiwan. Currently the Taiwan High Speed Rail, which
uses Japanese Shinkansen technology, runs along this
route.

At the time, Taiwan had many factories and

munitions depots in the northern part of the western
plains. The Japanese army occupied the plains from
the north, so Taiwan, which was already poorly
equipped, faced a shortage of weapons and
ammunition from a very early stage.

The anti-Japanese forces were compelled to move to

the mountainous regions to the east and continue
their resistance.

Also, at that time, Taiwan only had land forces, so

Japanese naval shipping was not attacked. If Taiwan
had laid mines in the shallow waters to the west, the
Japanese military would have su�ered great damage.
It would have also had a psychological e�ect.

The shallow waters of the Taiwan Strait make it ideal

for laying mines.

On the other hand, the eastern and southern sides of

Taiwan’s main island reach depths of 2,000 meters
not far from the coast. The undersea terrain is
rugged and deep ocean water �ows in. Deep ocean
water is cold and has a low salinity, which a�ects the
speed of sound waves, making it easier for
submarines to avoid enemy sonic detection.

If Chinese submarines control the waters east of

Taiwan, it will pose a danger to the shipping routes
connecting Taiwan with Guam and Hawai‘i.

Thus, in the event of a Taiwan emergency, the

struggle for control of the sea – and under the sea –
to the east of Taiwan will intensify. If Taiwan takes
control of this sea area, it can also be used as a base
for launching anti-ship missiles from submarines
into the Taiwan Strait. In this case, it will be
necessary to communicate the location of enemy
ships to submarines, and the U.S. military may
support Taiwan by providing this sort of
information.

The Author

is Tokyo Correspondent for The Diplomat.

Sina Weibo

A look at where the PLA’s cutting-edge

aircraft programs – from the J-XD to J-20
upgrades and the mysterious H-20 stealth
bomber – stand.
By

In previous articles, I have documented the

progression of combat aircraft in China’s People’s
Liberation Army (PLA), as well as conveyed
projections and estimates of near-term outcomes.
Various established aircraft have reached milestones
in recent years, and some future expected projects
are likely to make their presence felt in coming years
into the second half of the decade.
However, PLA secrecy remains unique among the
major military forces of the world, and this has only
intensi�ed in the last half decade as geopolitical
tensions have escalated. In this article, I will aim to
summarize known indicators and make estimates for
various upcoming projects.

The PLA’s sixth-generation manned �ghter, or next-

generation manned �ghter, is considered to be an
established program of record that is under active
development and expected to emerge in some form
during this decade. However, before discussion of
this project can commence, a stand-in title for it is
necessary, as there is no current consensus name
from the Chinese language PLA watching community.
I will use “J-XD” to refer to this project, until such a
time that a consensus name emerges to replace it.

J-XD is a concise name which can be seen as a pinyin

acronym. “XD” can represent either “xīn dài” (新代
meaning new generation), or “xià dài” (下代 next
generation), both of which are reasonable titles. J-XD
also avoids using a numbered system that may
introduce confusion as to whether the aircraft is
“sixth-generation” or “�fth-generation,” given the
Chinese military nomenclature seems to use both the
domestic Chinese generation system and the Western
generation system at times.

Utilizing a name that includes “NGAD” (Next

Generation Air Dominance, the U.S. Air Force’s name
for their sixth-generation project) is somewhat
inappropriate given the use of English words in an
acronym for a Chinese project. Furthermore, J-XD
has the additional bene�t of paying homage to the
stand-in name for J-20 (known in the 2000s as “J-XX”).

Current indicators for the J-XD remain largely

unchanged from the last few years. It is generally
accepted that various demonstrator test beds
(potentially subscale) have been �own, and a more
stealthy, tailless �ying wing/�ying arrowhead
airframe is considered one of the likely
con�gurations it may adopt.

The J-XD is virtually guaranteed to incorporate new

generation subsystems and technologies in
propulsion, sensors, computing and networking, and
is likely to operate alongside future unmanned
combat aerial vehicles (UCAVs) or collaborative
combat aircraft (CCAs). A selection of papers
exploring airframe testing, engine development, and
aerospace engineering e�orts that have relevance to
J-XD development are also accessible with the right
search terms. Meanwhile, generic next-generation
�ghter representations have been shown both by
state aircraft manufacturers and at defense expos.

Unsurprisingly, more granular rumors or estimates

regarding the subsystems, weapons, and
characteristics of the J-XD remain elusive even
among the PLA watching community; however, it is
widely accepted that the J-XD ranks among the most
important upcoming projects for the PLA. In context
of this, U.S. Air Force senior o�cers have reasonably
alluded to viewing Chinese sixth-generation e�orts
as an underway competitor.

However, before the J-XD emerges, there are still a

number of active and vigorous �fth-generation
�ghter types in active development and production
for the PLA. The fates of these �ghters will also relate
to the outcome and trajectory of the J-XD, in terms of
the procurement scale and timeline of each
respective type.

The J-20 family is the primary PLA �fth-generation

�ghter family, and has seen increases in both
production scale and technological upgrades in
recent years. However nomenclature once again
needs to be discussed. At present, “J-20” is the name
of the baseline variant in production powered by
WS-10 engines (and by Al-31 engines in the �rst
batch); this �ghter is externally identi�ed by its non-
beaked nose as well as the lack of a dorsal hump
behind the canopy.

“J-20A” is the name of the improved variant in

development (and possibly early production) that is
intended to be powered by more capable WS-15
engines (but may enter initial production with WS-10
engines). Multiple prototypes of the J-20A exist and
can be identi�ed by a slightly beaked nose and a
dorsal hump behind the canopy.

Unfortunately, some “general knowledge” websites

such as Wikipedia list the J-20 and J-20A as “J-20A”
and “J-20B,” respectively, which are not appropriate
consensus names for the respective variants. This
serves to create confusion.

Estimates from think tanks and professional military

institutes, suggest that around 200 J-20s have been
produced as of the end of 2023 or early 2024. In
context of rumors from the Chinese language PLA
watching community, these estimates appear
somewhat out of date. Indeed, estimates from the
PLA watching community estimate that the 200-
airframe milestone was reached some time in late
2022 or early 2023.

Furthermore, it is thought that at some point in 2022

to 2023, the annual production rate of J-20s from
Chengdu had grown to approach three digits (i.e.: 100
airframes a year). This would give China the ability
to annually equip three frontline PLA Air Force
brigades, which also tracks with the number of new
J-20 units being converted in recent years.

At the time of writing in mid-2024, I cautiously

estimate that the J-20 �eet size may approach 300
airframes. It must be noted that future J-20
production rates may change (either increase or
decrease) as the program proceeds. PLA secrecy and
the di�cult nature of attaining consistent high-
quality satellite imagery means any “concrete”
estimate of the J-20 �eet size is likely to be
meaningfully behind from facts on the ground at any
given time, though may serve as a useful “minimum
�oor” estimate.

The new J-20A variant remains in development,

though unveri�ed rumors suggest it may be on the
cusp of early production. Major elements to con�rm
for the J-20A include whether initial production
batches are powered by WS-10 or WS-15 engines
(with the J-20A prototype serial 2052 powered by
WS-15s �ying in mid-2023), as well as how
production of the J-20A and J-20 will cross with one
another.

J-20A advancements must also be watched, as the

variant is not merely a J-20 with more powerful
engines, but is rumored and expected to include an
overhaul of software, avionics and sensor suites
(even more so than inter-batch advancements for
existing J-20s), material and structural advancements
with corresponding signature reduction bene�ts, as
well as signi�cant power and thermal management
advances. All of these enhancement will enhance
future growth potential and a wider variety of
upgrades and payloads. Among global peers, perhaps
the most intuitive comparison for the J-20A is the TR3
variant and Block 4 upgrade for the F-35 family.

Of note, the twin seat “J-20S” (also known as the

“J-20AS” or “J-20B”) is currently thought to be a
technology demonstrator related to the J-20A variant
to enhance and accelerate developmental e�orts.
However, the emergence of a production variant of
the twin seat “J-20S” cannot be excluded in the
future.
The J-35/XY and FC-31 derived family of �ghters are
the other major Chinese �fth-generation program.
The carrier-borne J-35/XY has been �ying in the form
of prototypes since 2021, and mockups have been
visible aboard both the catapult equipped CV-18
Fujian (which recently began its sea trials), as well as
the CV-16 Liaoning, which may precede �ight testing
aboard the respective carriers. The presence of a J-35
mockup aboard the Liaoning is signi�cant, as it
indicates the �ghter is compatible with the PLA
Navy’s ski jump carriers (the Liaoning and CV-17
Shandong), which can signi�cantly bolster the
capability and future relevance of both ships.

Presently, the J-35 is expected to proceed with carrier

�ight testing in the near-term future, with initial
production possibly to commence within the next
couple of years at the earliest. There may also be
indicators that a “J-31” developed from the FC-31
demonstrator intended for PLA use (or potentially
for an export customer) may have also recently
�own; however, this is yet to be con�rmed. It is
unclear how a notional “J-31” may �t in context of
PLA procurement of J-20 family aircraft that is
occurring at relatively large scale, not to mention the
future J-XD and expectant UCAVs/CCAs.

Compared to �ghter e�orts like the J-XD, J-20 and

J-35, the status of the much rumored and anticipated
H-20 stealth bomber has become much less clear in
recent years. While there remain occasional o�cial
remarks alluding to the development of the H-20,
there have been some uncertain rumors in recent
months that the H-20 as a project may not be pursued
in the previous consensus form of a stealthy �ying
wing bomber.

This would not be entirely unprecedented, as the

evolving strategic environment in the last half
decade may have caused revisions of various
projects and their respective priority, causing the
public understanding of the project to be in limbo.
We have seen a similar degree of secrecy for the
future of China’s carrier procurement beyond Fujian.
Somewhat more unprecedented for the H-20,
however, is the relatively high-pro�le nature in
which its existence was acknowledged as early as the
late 2010s, creating a greater degree of concrete
expectation for it than other past projects.

At this stage, the status and prediction of H-20

remains unclear. It may well still be an active project,
or alternatively it may have undergone substantial
revisions and emerge later than previously expected
in an wholly di�erent form, or even have elements of
its role be delegated to other systems such as UCAVs/
CCAs for the near term. Interestingly, there have
been some rumors that the J-XD is considered a
project of higher priority than the H-20. But in the
absence of context or detail, it is di�cult to
substantiate this.

The PLA’s pursuit of high-end UCAVs is fairly

established, with the stealthy �ying wing GJ-11 being
the most well-known type. Its program status (both
in stage of development as well as production) is
unknown, but potentially a small number of
airframes exist in advanced testing. What is known is
that a carrier-based stealthy �ying wing UCAV
(possibly derived from GJ-11) is expected to emerge,
with a mockup having been observed aboard the PLA
Navy carrier mockup in Wuhan, and a possible new
airframe variant having emerged within the last
year. A number of other �ying wing UAV platforms
are also known to exist, and with likely multiple
more in more secretive development without public
knowledge.
Various air-to-air oriented CCA concepts have also
been shown at Chinese defense expos such as the
Zhuhai airshow; however, these remain largely in
line with various CCA projects around the world, and
it is likely that more sophisticated models for PLA use
are in more secretive development. The lower pro�le
and more compact nature of many UCAVs and CCAs,
as well as greater inherent PLA secrecy, makes it
likely that a number of di�erent UCAV and CCA
concepts are in development and testing, and their
emergence to the public sphere is likely only going to
occur in late stages of development or even
introduction into service.

Similar to other e�orts by international air forces,

PLA UCAVs and CCAs are very likely to be integral
capabilities with the future J-XD �ghter, as well as be
compatible with existing �fth-generation �ghters like
the J-20 and J-35, and potentially 4.5-generation
�ghters such as the J-16 and J-10C with requisite
upgrades.

The future trajectory and shape of PLA high end

UCAV and CCA procurement remains one of the
major unknowns of tracking future PLA combat
aircraft.

At this point in time, the long arc of Chinese combat

aircraft (and in particular, manned �ghter aircraft)
development has brought China into the same
category as leading edge aerospace powers, even
when considering a few remaining industry domains
where China has yet to catch up or scale (such as
advanced turbofans). The overall level of
advancement somewhat complicates projections of
upcoming PLA combat aircraft projects, due to lack
of existing comparable platforms that can guide
public speculation.

The J-XD and associated future PLA UCAV and CCA

projects will emerge alongside other global projects
in highly uncharted waters, and may prove to be
more fascinating than past PLA aerospace tracking
e�orts, and indeed more novel than past global
military aerospace tracking since the Cold War.

The Author

is a longtime follower of Chinese military developments,

with a focus on air and naval platforms.
Wikimedia Commons, Llez

Like the 2021 edition, Germany’s 2024

Indo-Paci�c Deployment will signal Berlin’s
commitment to the region – and the limits
of its presence.
By

On May 7, the German Navy kicked o� its second

Indo-Paci�c deployment. Two ships, the frigate
Baden-Württemberg and the combat supply ship
Frankfurt am Main, set sail for a world tour.

The deployment is another step Germany is taking to

increase its engagement in the Indo-Paci�c region,
showcasing its commitments to its regional partners,
including India, Malaysia, South Korea, and Japan. At
the same time, Germany is trying to preserve good
relations with its important trading partner, China.
This poses a di�cult balancing act for the country.

Over recent years, tensions in the Indo-Paci�c have

been increasing, especially in the maritime domain.
Competing territorial claims between China, Taiwan,
the Philippines, Vietnam, and Malaysia – notably in
the South China Sea – risk escalating, and threaten
peace and stability.

The rising tensions motivated the German Navy to

conduct its �rst Indo-Paci�c deployment in 2021. The
frigate Bayern set sail for the Indo-Paci�c, the �rst
time in almost two decades that a German warship
cruised the region. Port calls included Pakistan,
Australia, Guam, Japan, South Korea, Singapore,
Vietnam, Sri Lanka, and India.

Partners welcomed the 2021 tour, but it also became

apparent that Germany’s defense engagement in the
region has limits. Throughout the tour, Germany
attempted a diplomatic balancing act. It tried to
signal to partners its willingness to be more engaged
in the Indo-Paci�c, while simultaneously signaling to
Beijing that its mission was not about confronting
China.

The Bayern requested to stop in Shanghai, a signal

from the German Navy that the mission should not
be understood as directed against China. This led to
some irritation from observers in Japan and
Australia. However, the requested port call was
rejected by Chinese o�cials.

Apart from this, the Bayern was careful not to do

anything that could lead to tensions with China.
While the frigate traversed the South China Sea, it
stayed on international shipping routes and did not
conduct any military drills (exercises or rehearsals of
prescribed movements). According to international
law, warships have the right to “innocent passage”
through the territorial seas of other countries. At
high sea (waters that do not fall under the
jurisdiction of any one country), however, ships are
allowed to hold military drills. One could therefore
argue that the voyage of the Bayern recognized
Chinese territorial claims in the South China Sea.

Geographically it might be far, but the Indo-Paci�c is

deeply intertwined with the German economy.
Germany is the world’s third-largest export nation
and the Indo-Paci�c is a global trade hub, home to
nine of the world’s ten largest ports. Waterways like
the South China Sea and the Strait of Malacca are
vital to the global economy. China is Germany’s most
important trading partner, and positive ties between
the two countries are crucial for German industry.

Due to its economic entanglement with the region,

Germany has a strong interest in a stable Indo-Paci�c
where freedom of navigation is upheld. In recent
years, German policymakers have become more
attentive toward the region. In 2020, the country
released its policy guidelines for the Indo-Paci�c,
which de�ned Germany’s interests there. A lot of
these interests relate to Germany’s economic
interests, such as maintaining open markets and free
trade as well as open shipping rules. The guidelines
also talk about global challenges, such as changing
geopolitical dynamics, climate change, digital
transformation, and access to fact-based
information.

Next to contributing to peace and stability in the

region, Germany wants to diversify and deepen its
relations across the Indo-Paci�c. In 2023 Germany
released its �rst-ever National Security Strategy,
which reiterated that the Indo-Paci�c “remains of
special signi�cance to Germany and Europe.”

At the same time, the tone of the German

government toward China has become tougher, as
indicated by Germany’s 2023 China Strategy. The
document acknowledges that China has changed
immensely under Xi Jinping and now challenges
German interests. For example, Beijing has put
principles of international law into question, such as
by ignoring the ruling of an international tribunal
regarding the South China Sea, which rejected most
of China’s territorial claims. China has also engaged
in economic coercion against Germany’s partners,
including EU member states like Lithuania.

But when it comes to concrete policies, the strategy

remains vague. Germany does not want to cut its
relations with China, especially on the business side
of things. At the same time, Berlin tries to strengthen
relations with other countries in the region in order
to diversify its economic dependencies.

A con�ict in the Indo-Paci�c would severely damage

the German economy. It also would put Germany in a
di�cult position, as the United States and other
partners present in the region would likely expect
some kind of support from Berlin. In order to
support stability in the region, Germany is increasing
its presence with a second deployment.

From this May until December, two ships are sailing

to the Indo-Paci�c and will participate in several
military exercises – including the U.S.-led “RIMPAC
2024,” the world’s biggest maritime exercise. For a
few months, the ships will also be joined by German
Air Force planes. Together with air forces from both
Europe and the Indo-Paci�c, the German Air Force
will participate in a series of joint exercises called
“Paci�c Skies 24.” Planned ports of call on the tour
include Japan, South Korea, Indonesia, Malaysia,
Singapore, and India.

With this deployment, Germany wants to signal to its

Indo-Paci�c partners that it has not forgotten them,
despite its focus being on supporting Ukraine against
the Russian invasion. This is especially important
considering some regional partners, like Japan, have
also shown signi�cant amounts of support for
Ukraine.

The �rst Indo-Paci�c deployment was welcomed by

partners, and the current deployment will likewise
reinforce Germany’s relations with countries in the
region. Potentially, the tour could strengthen not just
diplomatic but also economic relations between
Germany and its partners, thereby contributing to
the country’s objective of diversifying economic ties
to the region.

Another stated objective of the journey is to secure

sea and trade routes. The exact planning of the tour
is not yet set. The ships plan to cross through the
South China Sea, and transit through the Taiwan
Strait is also being considered. However, whether
such a passage happens will be decided shortly
beforehand, depending on political considerations
and the state of the China-Germany relationship.
China might interpret a Taiwan Strait transit as a
provocation.

In this year’s Indo-Paci�c deployment, Germany

wants to show its partners there that it will continue
to be present in the region. However, observers
should not expect anything too dramatic from this
journey, like the German Navy actively challenging
Chinese territorial claims. Germany will continue
trying to protect its relationship with China. It is
unlikely that the Baden-Württemberg or the
Frankfurt am Main will traverse contested waters on
their tour, be it the South China Sea or anywhere else.
While the two ships will keep the option of going
through the Taiwan Strait open for now, observers
should not be surprised if this transit does not
happen.
With this second deployment, Germany will continue
with its challenging Indo-Paci�c balancing act.

The Author

is currently the Clara Marina O’Donnell fellow at the

Centre for European Reform as well as the Europe fellow at the Rising
Experts Program at Young Professionals in Foreign Policy (YPFP). She
holds an MA in European Political and Governance Studies from the
College of Europe in Bruges, Belgium as well as an MSc in Global
Governance and Diplomacy from the University of Oxford.
Depositphotos

Mongolia’s energy security needs to be

viewed holistically, as a function of its
economy, environment, and geopolitical
situation.
By

Mongolia sits in a unique position where its energy

situation is deeply intertwined with both its
economy, which is mostly driven by raw material
exports, and its geographic location between two
major countries. However, there is a lack of
acknowledgement of the reality of the energy
situation accounting for geopolitical factors within
the Mongolian government, or at least within its
ministries.
According to Mongolia’s Ministry of Energy, the
current state policy on energy is deeply concentrated
on the production, expansion, and sustainability of
electricity production. The absence of other critical
components – like agriculture, mining, heavy
industry, transportation, development, and security
factors – in energy policy misinforms the public and
undermines the country’s national security and
interests. A precise assessment of the energy security
situation should not be limited to the issue of
domestic electricity and heat production, but also
include greater economic and foreign policy
considerations as a whole.

The Mongolian government should immediately

develop comprehensive long-term energy security
policies in accordance with the prevailing
geopolitical realities. The necessary steps would
include transforming the electricity sector from coal-
�red to renewable energy, shifting away from a
reliance on coal exports to becoming a renewable
energy exporter, and attracting foreign infrastructure
�nancing.

Mongolian economic policy, energy policy, and

national security policy are deeply intertwined. A
failure to recognize the impact of mineral resources
such as coal and copper on Mongolia’s energy policy
is deeply �awed and potentially dangerous.
According to data from the Mongolian National
Statistics O�ce, last year 86 percent of the country’s
exports were raw materials, including coal, copper
concentrate, and gold. More than half of Mongolia’s
exports were coal.

It is no secret that the country needs to shift from an

export-based economy, which is heavily dependent
on the global market, to a diversi�ed economy.
Mongolia’s government itself readily acknowledges
this.

In another alarming datapoint, just one trading

partner, China, accounts for 80 percent of Mongolian
exports. The vulnerability of the current economic
picture puts Mongolian national, economic, and
energy security alike at immediate risk.

In the long run, Mongolian economic and foreign

policy must recognize the fact that the sale of coal is
not sustainable. The international community is
eager to move from fossil fuels as the climate
emergency becomes ever-more dire. Therefore,
Mongolia’s current and future administrations must
tailor their policies toward value-added processing –
something the country has been struggling to achieve
– or even the potential replacement of coal as a
revenue source.

Notably, Mongolia can tackle both its energy and

economic security concerns with one approach.
Mongolia has the potential to sustain its domestic
electricity demand through renewable energy
sources such as solar, wind, and hydro. It should also
view exports of renewable energy into neighboring
countries as an alternative source of economic
security.

Mongolia’s electricity and heating production is

overwhelmingly based on coal-�red thermal power
plants, according to the Ministry of Energy. As of
2018, the Energy Regulatory Commission reported
that close to 93 percent of Mongolia’s power plants
were coal-�red, while only 7 percent generated
renewable energy.

Furthermore, Mongolia produces just 80 percent of

the total electricity needed domestically and imports
the other 20 percent from Russia. There has been an
ongoing government e�ort to meet growing demand
by extending the capacity of existing power plants,
building new ones in rural regions, and investing in
the technology and infrastructure of renewable
energy, including solar and wind projects, as
reported in the government action plan for 2016–
2020 formulated by the Ministry of Energy. However,
while transmission network extensions to reach
isolated parts of the country have been on the
agenda for the past few years, these e�orts only
included coal-�red power plants.

In terms of energy policy, Mongolia’s main priority

should be to target supply close to 100 percent of
domestic demand when it comes to electricity and
heating production – even if this power is generated
by fossil fuels.

There are growing e�orts by the international

community to capture carbon emissions or remove
them, which need to be studied and implemented
immediately, including by shifting toward renewable
energy sources. In the long run, however, it is only
realistic to assume coal-�red plants are not a
sustainable solution given the climate emergency. As
a result, ambitious e�orts to pursue renewable
energy will be the future.

Perhaps one of the greatest information gaps for

average Mongolians or even policymakers is the
tendency to look at critical petroleum products such
as diesel and gas in isolation, excluding the energy
factor, which is deeply tied to national security.

Mongolian industrial and other consumers are 95

percent dependent on imported petroleum products,
despite the country having crude oil deposits. Indeed,
petroleum products make up the biggest share of
imports in terms of value. Data from the Mongolian
National Statistics O�ce indicated that diesel and
petrol ranked �rst and third, respectively, on the list
of commodities Mongolia imported in 2022, together
accounting for 35 percent of all imports.

Around 90 percent of all imported petroleum

products come from Russia, which creates a
geopolitical dependency. The general public has seen
disruptions of Russian oil supplies from time to time
and shares a common feeling of uneasiness about the
fact that Mongolia’s economy is dependent on foreign
actors’ discretion. Despite Mongolia having 43
million tons of proven crude oil reserves and
production, the lack of in-country re�neries has
forced it to export its oil to China since 1998.

According to the Mineral Resources and Petroleum

Authority of Mongolia and other news agencies, the
construction of Mongolia’s own re�nery and oil
pipelines are underway, funded by a soft loan from
the Indian government. They are expected to be
operational in 2027.

The current plan is to be able to produce up to 20

percent of domestic petroleum product consumption
and have six months of country reserve to boost
Mongolia’s resilience to disruptions or price spikes. If
the plan proceeds on schedule, the Mongolian
government will gain signi�cant leverage in foreign
policy. However, the size of the oil reserve is
relatively small, and the fact that 8 million tons out
of 43 have already been extracted suggests that the
potential leverage from this infrastructure
development will be temporary and short-term.

In the long term, the government of Mongolia should

join the rest of the world in electrifying its
transportation sector, supported by domestic
renewable energy production.

Mongolia’s latest long-term development policy

known as “Vision 2050” sets the tone for future
government policy in energy security but again lacks
the necessary national security element. There are a
number of signi�cant goals, such as “becoming self-
su�cient in electricity production,” “increasing
export-oriented sources and becoming an energy
exporter," and “developing an independent
integrated energy system,” but the strategy
ultimately failed to inform or reiterate why those
goals are fundamental to Mongolia’s national
security and dependency.

In 2021, in the midst of COVID-19 and the greater

economic impact of the pandemic, the Mongolian
Parliament announced a “New Recovery Policy” as a
part of Vision 2050. In addition to the number of
action plans to increase the existing capacities of
thermal power plants and a proposal to build a
hydropower plant in the recovery plan, a couple of
debatable proposals were mentioned: a natural gas
pipeline from Russia to China via Mongolia, and a
potential Northeast Asian integrated power grid.

The potential new gas pipeline, Power of Siberia 2,

has been under discussion for years, if not decades,
although progress was frozen temporarily during the
pandemic. According to a recent Reuters report, the
Russian deputy prime minister announced that
construction may begin in Mongolia starting in 2024
on a pipeline to carry 50 billion cubic meters of gas a
year.

According to the Intelligence Department of

Mongolia’s study on the potential pipeline, the talks
had been unproductive among stakeholder groups
up until Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, which changed
the geopolitical landscape immensely. It is interesting
and almost counterintuitive that the Mongolian
government has been pushing the idea of becoming a
transit nation, thereby emphasizing further
cooperation between neighbors, while also longing to
assert geopolitical independence. In this context, the
most controversial comment made by the
Intelligence Department study was that transit
countries can pose certain “risks” to supplier
countries, citing the examples of Ukraine and
Belarus.

In terms of geopolitics, embracing the Power of

Siberia 2 pipeline can be seen as having two possible
outcomes, depending on one’s perspective: Either it is
political suicide by allowing expansionist Russia to
export its gas using Mongolian land, or it is the
ultimate ticket for security to avoid hostility from
both Russia and China by connecting critical energy
sectors.

I am skeptical about the argument made by the

Intelligence Department about the “risk” situation. I
would argue that it is the complete opposite:
Mongolia would face increasing risk from Russia.
Embedding a Russian pipeline in the territory of
Mongolia only would deepen Russia’s interest in
interfering with Mongolian domestic a�airs,
undermining Mongolian sovereignty. Furthermore,
the key considerations – such as who would own,
�nance, and construct the pipeline – are still unclear.

The most important question of the deal is, what is in

it for Mongolia? If the Mongolian government
manages to cut a favorable deal by negotiating a “bid
check” as a transmission country and a concession to
respect territorial integrity at all times, the situation
could be a win for Mongolia, allowing it to �nance
much-needed projects from education to
infrastructure. Otherwise, it is seen as a blunt
invitation for Russians to interfere in Mongolian
domestic a�airs in the name of the pipeline.

Another intriguing possibility is the potential for

Mongolia to become a renewable energy exporter
using an integrated Northeast Asian power grid
linking Mongolia, Russia, China, Japan, and South
Korea. This would be the preferable choice if the
Mongolian government decided to pursue the
development of the project seriously. Not only would
this project open a new line of revenue for Mongolia,
but it would also be a critical foreign policy tool to
strengthen Mongolia’s position in global politics.

According to a study conducted by the Asian

Development Bank, researchers found “ample
renewable resources for both domestic use and
potential export” in Mongolia but concluded that
“system �exibility remains an impediment” and
“future analysis is needed prior to investment.”

An interconnected transmission line could ease the

tensions in Northeast Asia and foster trust in an
already heightened region. Participation by high-
income, energy-insecure countries like Japan and
South Korea could be a signi�cant part of �nancing
the infrastructure and knowledge; at the same time,
manufacturing giants like China could potentially
provide resources such as solar panels and batteries.

If the Russian gas pipeline were to cross Mongolia as

a transit country, the integrated power grid would
provide crucial security and bargaining leverage for
Mongolia as a complement.

Mongolian policymakers, ministries, and the general

public must understand that the energy security
issue is not limited to electricity production and
consumption; rather, almost every sector in
Mongolia, from the economy to agriculture, is deeply
intertwined with the energy situation, which makes
it a national security priority. Hence, a
comprehensive long-term energy security policy
based on a precise assessment of the geopolitical
realities of today’s Mongolia must be proposed and
implemented.

Those policies include transforming Mongolia’s

electricity sector from coal-�red to renewables-
based, while also shifting Mongolia’s exports from
coal to renewable energy. To achieve both goals,
Mongolia must attract more foreign infrastructure
�nancing.

Serious attempts to revolutionize Mongolia’s

electricity sector from fossil fuel-based to renewable
must be the long-term goal in the coming decades.
The government of Mongolia must invest in
transmission lines as well as storage for renewable
energy production that could supply domestic
consumers.

On a related note, Mongolia must move away from a

coal-based economy and intensify its e�ort to
produce more renewable energy. The government of
Mongolia must recognize that the revenue from coal
exports to China is not only sustainable but also not
reliable. The large proportion of exports tied up in a
single resource (coal) and a single recipient (China)
leave Mongolia’s economy dependent on market
factors beyond its control. Projects like the Northeast
Asian Integrated Power Grid open the door for a new
era where Mongolia exports renewable energy to the
rest of the world.

Financing major renewable energy projects will be

costly, and the returns will not be immediate.
However, there are many ways to navigate those
challenges by attracting foreign investment from
“third neighbors,” including Japan, India, or South
Korea. Along the way, development banks like the
World Bank, Asian Development Bank, and Asian
Infrastructure Investment Bank, by e�ectively
advertising Mongolia, could potentially o�er
renewables to the rest of the world.

To achieve that, strengthening Mongolia’s economic

and political stability has become a prerequisite, and
building a predictable legal environment for foreign
investment has become a must. Here again,
Mongolia’s energy security cannot be separated from
broader concerns.

The Author

is a graduate student at the School of

International Service, American University in Washington D.C.
completing her master’s degree in Global Governance, Politics, and
Security. Ms. Altanshagai has an interest in the geopolitics of energy,
the development economy in the Global South, especially in
Mongolia and Central Asian republics, diplomacy, and governance.
Wikimedia Commons, Adityaoberai

Like pre-college education before, high

school education in India is witnessing a
massive shift to the private sector.
By

The number of private Indian universities is not

rising – it has soared to the sky. The 1980s saw the
establishment of only one such institution, and so did
the 1990s. By comparison, the last 22 years
(2000-2022) witnessed the inauguration of 428
private universities in India.

The number is expected to climb even higher with

the further liberalization of government rules on
private institutions of higher learning. For instance,
in 2023, it was announced that foreign universities
will be allowed to open campuses on Indian soil. But
the growth of India’s higher education market is
much more about the rising demand than the
liberalized rules of supply.

Even a quick glance at the reality of these new

universities shows that much of their growth
represents a trend of Indian higher education sailing
out to the waters of the free market. It seems that
science subjects, such as engineering, dominate the
curriculum options, though humanities are not
completely missing. Some of these new institutions
arose in rural areas outside Delhi, rather than within
the city, probably due to Delhi’s impossible real
estate prices (it takes immense capital to build in
India’s capital). These universities, however, also
mostly boast posh campuses spreading over swaths
of what was recently agricultural land. Everything
about them screams: “We are the new money.”

It is equally apparent that these new private

universities often spring up as investments of large
companies. For instance, the GD Goenka University
was established by a family of industrialists, the
Goenkas; BML Munjal University was created by
another such family, the Munjals (mostly known for
motorcycle manufacturing); the Jagan Nath
University is named after a businessman dealing
with oil processing – and the list goes on. In other
words, many of these new institutions represent a
new �eld of investment by India’s most powerful
companies; they are an addition to a wide portfolio
of dominant industrialists.

But while the numbers quoted in the �rst paragraph

may be stunning, the reasons behind this revolution
are not so rosy. It seems that what is now happening
with Indian universities is a repetition of what
already happened with primary and middle schools.
Over the past few decades, India witnessed a
remarkable shift from public to private education
because a great many government schools fail to
deliver.

India’s elites have long been enrolling their progeny

in private institutions. Gradually, the process began
to encompass the middle classes, and even the lower-
middle classes, as private players began to establish
budget private schools that charge comparatively
low fees. With this, hundreds of thousands of new
private and middle schools mushroomed in India
especially since the liberalization of the country’s
economy in 1990s.

The data for 2021-2022 academic year suggest that

there are still more government-managed schools in
India than private ones (68.7 percent to 31.3 percent,
respectively) out of a total number of 1.5 million
schools. However, the percentage of private schools is
gradually growing while that of public ones is
decreasing.

Second, the proportion alone does not reveal the

socioeconomic reality. With a bit of generalization, it
may be said that it is the children of poor people who
attend government schools (apart from a small
number of high-quality public schools), while those
who can a�ord it have shifted to private institutions.
In rural areas, government schools face less
competition (though even there one �nds cheap
private education institutions), while in large cities,
they are completely overshadowed by their private
equivalents. In places like Delhi, there are already
more private schools than public ones. This is not
because the state wants it, but because it has been
unable to reform and expand the network of public
schools.

Now, the same process of the richer layers of society

moving from the public to the private sector seems to
be occurring in the realm of higher education. Again,
Indian elites did so long ago, and now the process is
expanding down the rungs of the economic ladder.
These hundreds of new universities – with their
sprawling campuses based outside major cities,
where it is next to impossible to reach without a car,
and their �ashy websites only in English – seem to be
catering to the country’s new, growing middle
classes. But over time, we may well see the rise of a
host of cheaper universities aimed at attracting the
lower-middle classes.

And it is not only about a shift from public to private,

but one from India to overseas. When Russia’s brutal,
full-scale invasion of Ukraine began, there was a
need to evacuate over 18,000 Indians from the
attacked country. Most of them were students – and
most of these were medical students. One of the main
reasons why so many of them were studying in
Ukraine is that there aren’t enough slots at India’s
own universities to study medicine – combined with
the fact that studying in Ukraine was cheaper than in
the EU or even Russia (and quite likely cheaper than
studying at elite universities back in India).

The whole process will thus likely yield both positive

and negative results. Indian higher education will
strive toward higher quality and there will be more
places to study to choose from – though at �rst, these
will be accessible only for richer Indians, who
already have more options than everyone else. Many
Indian public universities may be stagnant in
comparison to what is happening in the private
sector, but at least they admit more students from the
poorer sections (through the reservation system).
The world “university,” after all, comes from the
Latin universitas, meaning “whole,” and such an
institution should ideally strive not only to present
the whole of knowledge, but also be open to all. Now,
it would seem, from the ideal of free access, the
pendulum will swing toward the free market.

Yet, undeniably, this tremendous growth of India’s

higher education system currently represents a
massive opportunity for investors – both Indian and
foreign ones – but also for universities in other
countries that wish to attract Indian students. This
may as well be a new golden mine for institutions in
places like Europe, where schools and universities
are being threatened by demographic decline.

The Author

writes for The Diplomat’s Pulse section. He is a

South Asia expert and was the chair of the Asia Research Centre at
the War Studies University in Warsaw.
IMDB

The hit �lm “Vina: Sebelum 7 Hari” drew its

inspiration from the rape and murder of a
16-year-old girl in 2016, prompting
accusations of bad taste.
By

Indonesia has a new controversial horror �ick in the

form of “Vina: Sebelum 7 Hari” (Vina: Before 7 Days)
which (loosely) tells the horri�c tale of Vina Dewi
Arsita, a 16-year-old from Cirebon in West Java who
was gang raped and murdered in 2016.

The �lm was shot as a horror story, and the plot

revolves around a friend of Vina being possessed by
her spirit some three days after her death, and
narrating her tragic demise to Vina’s distraught
family.

Apparently, this also happened in real life.

“[The friend who was possessed by] Vina’s spirit told

us everything about what happened, she said ‘don’t
be fooled by the police, it wasn’t an accident…I was
raped, killed, tortured, hit by wooden block,’”
Marliana, Vina’s sister said of the incident.

She also said that she recorded the possessed voice

and took the recording to the police.

The �lm has sold some 6 million tickets since it was

released in May, making it Indonesia’s second highest
grossing �lm of 2024 after the comedy-horror �lm
“Agak Laen.” It is one of a spate of recent Indonesian
horror �lms that are dominating the box o�ce.

In both the real life case and the �lm, Vina’s body
was found under a bridge in Cirebon alongside her
16-year-old boyfriend, Muhammad “Eky” Rizky.

Initially, the police told the family that the teenagers

had been involved in a tra�c collision, although this
appeared unlikely as the motorbike the couple had
been riding was not damaged.

Following a more thorough investigation, the police

concluded that the young couple had been attacked
by a motorcycle gang who had raped and tortured
Vina and murdered both her and Eky before
dumping their bodies.

Some eight people were arrested following the crime

out of 11 sought by the police, and seven were
sentenced to life imprisonment back in 2017. The
eighth perpetrator received an eight-year sentence as
he was a minor at the time of the attack

Three suspects were never found.

Now, eight years later, the �lm about the case has
been made and released, and caused immediate
controversy for a number of reasons.

Most notable was the decision to make the story into

a horror �lm, rather than a documentary or simple
dramatization of the true events, which many
commentators found tasteless and insulting to Vina
and her family.

The �lm is graphic in its depictions of the sexual

assault and violence faced by Vina and Eky, earning
it a rare 17+ certi�cation in Indonesia.

Then, an even more dramatic twist.

Following the release of the �lm on May 8, police

arrested two men and a construction worker named
Pegi Setiawan on May 21 – alleging that Setiawan
was the mastermind of the crime.

Some may wonder why, when the Cirebon police had

made no headway in the case since 2016, the West
Java police, who swiftly took over the case, were
suddenly able to arrest the alleged ringleader some
two weeks after the �lm premiered.

Apparently, Setiawan had been on the run for eight

years, living under false names, although in a press
conference, he claimed that he was “willing to die” to
prove his innocence.

Legal experts and commentators have also pushed

back, pointing out that the police may now feel under
undue pressure to solve the case, causing them to cut
corners. Critics accuse the police of not taking the
double murder seriously from the outset.

Most unfortunately, Vina’s family have been caught

up in the storm of controversy surrounding
Setiawan’s arrest, after having originally given their
consent for the �lm to be made in the hopes that it
would prompt a review of the cold case.

Marliana, Vina’s sister, said that the family has been

blamed for Setiawan’s alleged wrongful arrest by
online sleuths protesting his innocence, causing yet
more emotional distress.

“They blame my family. How does my family have

anything to do with it?” she said.

It does not stop there.

In early June, the director of the �lm, Anggy Umbara,

was questioned for seven hours about the case by
West Java Police investigators – something of a
bizarre development to anyone watching either the
�lm or its real life repercussions.

Of course, any developments in a cold case are

certainly always welcome, and it would not be the
�rst time that a �lm or documentary released years
after a crime has reactivated and solved a case.

Yet the choice to portray the story of Vina’s death in

such a gratuitous way on screen, coupled with the
seeming sudden desire to reinvestigate the case by
the police seems like a hollow attempt at justice,
which has only served to further muddy the waters.

Should the �lm have been made at all?

The Author

is a British writer based in Medan, Indonesia, and a

columnist for The Diplomat.
Facebook, 賴清德

With the DPP’s legacy on marriage equality

as a springboard, President Lai should
advance LGBTQ rights in Taiwan through a
two-pronged strategy.
By and

During her eight years in o�ce, Taiwan’s previous

President Tsai Ing-wen endorsed marriage equality
and aspired to build a Taiwan where individuals can
freely express themselves and marry their loved
ones, irrespective of their gender identity or sexual
orientation. The legalization of same-sex marriage in
2019 highlighted her administration’s support for
gender equality and LGBTQ activism, helping to
bolster Taiwan’s standing as a staunch advocate of
LGBTQ rights.

Many Taiwanese, particularly the younger

generation, see being pro-LGBTQ as a new identity
marker of the democratic island. Distinctive and
progressive values help Taiwan distinguish itself
from China’s government, which has intensi�ed
crackdowns on queer people.

In October 2023, then-Vice President Lai Ching-te of

Taiwan’s Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) sported
a rainbow-patterned scarf and participated in
Taipei’s annual pride parade – East Asia's largest gay
pride event. In doing so, Lai became the most
prominent Taiwanese o�cial to attend the parade
since its launch in 2003.

At the event, Lai said, “Equal marriage is not the end

– it’s the starting point for diversity,” and vowed to
“stand steadfast on this path,” sending an
unequivocal message to Taiwan’s LGBTQ community
about the government’s acceptance.

Lai, who assumed the presidency on May 20, should

build upon Tsai’s legacy to realize his promise of
enhancing social diversity and gender equality in
Taiwan. Lai should embrace a two-pronged strategy:
forging a LGBTQ-friendly society at home and
boosting Taiwan’s pro�le abroad through the
utilization of “queer diplomacy.”

There has been a surge of support for LGBTQ rights

in Taiwan. The most recent survey conducted by the
Executive Yuan’s Department of Gender Equality
found that 69.1 percent of respondents endorsed
same-sex marriage. That re�ects a marked increase
from just 37.4 percent support in 2018, the year prior
to Taiwan’s legalization of same-sex unions. This shift
demonstrates the importance of government policies
in changing public perceptions of the LGBTQ
community and accelerating the visibility of LGBTQ
individuals in Taiwanese society.

The historic win of Huang Jie, Taiwan’s �rst openly

gay legislator, in the 2024 election, will help
invigorate the domestic LGBTQ rights movement.
LGBTQ rights will likely be better protected in
legislation and regulations when more openly gay
persons are visible in political arenas.

Although the LGBTQ movement made great strides

during Tsai’s two terms in power, Taiwan’s gay
community faces obstacles ranging from hurdles in
accessing assisted reproduction and surrogacy
services, to restrictions on same-sex marriages
between Taiwanese and Chinese citizens.
Additionally, LGBTQ members of Indigenous
communities, who endure double prejudice because
of their sexual orientation and their Indigenous
status, are overlooked and marginalized in
mainstream debates about LGBTQ inclusion.

Likewise, despite some progress in transgender

rights, transgender people continue to encounter
discrimination and misapprehension in daily life, at
work, and in medical settings. If a transgender
person wishes to change their legal gender on o�cial
documents, they are required by law to submit proof
of undergoing gender-a�rming surgery. The
�nancial burden of this medical procedure for
transgender individuals is substantial.

Since this hurdle prevents about 90 percent of

Taiwanese transgender persons from obtaining
national identi�cation cards that match their gender
identity, the elimination of the aforementioned
surgical requirement is a requisite. Abolishing the
need for costly and time-consuming processes will
help transgender people be free from prejudice,
enjoy full access to healthcare rights, and perhaps
most importantly, live and express their true selves.
However, Lai’s goals for a more inclusive and
equitable Taiwan would have a tough time getting o�
the ground as the ruling DPP lost its majority in the
Legislative Yuan in the 2024 polls. Many saw the
installation of Han Kuo-yu of the Kuomintang (KMT)
as the president (speaker) of the Legislative Yuan as a
major setback for the LGBTQ rights movement. Due
to his controversial stance on same-sex marriage,
Han would likely use his power to halt or impede the
passage of legislation that support the rights of the
LGBTQ community. Some legislators of the KMT, the
DPP’s main opposition party, even threatened to
repeal the same-sex marriage law if their party were
to win a majority in the Legislative Yuan.

The fragmented and divided parliament poses a

burden on Lai’s shoulders in many policy areas,
including the pursuit of equal rights for Taiwan’s
LGBTQ community.

But Lai has initiatives in mind to support LGBTQ

rights. Through the “National Project of Hope” policy
plan announced in his inaugural address, Lai
pledged to promote gender equality, build a more
equitable society in which everyone can
“comfortably express their true identity,” and
establish gender education programs that support
LGBTQ families’ equality and liberty. Lai’s grand
vision of a Taiwan built on equality, justice, and
inclusivity deserves credit, but ultimately, actions
speak louder than words.

Lai would do well to provide space for social activists

and civil society leaders, who have been at the
forefront of the LGBTQ movement, to further LGBTQ
rights. He should encourage more meaningful
coverage of activist groups’ endeavors for upholding
LGBTQ rights and Taiwanese in�uential LGBTQ
individuals on social media and local news. Their
candor and unique personalities provide real-life
experiences and richer narratives on the intertwined
relations between Taiwan’s status as a vibrant
democracy and society’s acceptance of gender and
sexual rights.

But in the long run, the success of Lai’s e�orts to

promote LGBTQ rights will likely hinge on his
adeptness to harmonize interests and concerns with
opposition parties and work together toward social
and political reform.

Taiwan holds a peculiar status in international

politics: It meets all the requirements for statehood
but has failed to secure robust diplomatic
recognition due to mounting pressure from the
behemoth next door, China, which claims full
sovereignty over the island. Tsai’s “steadfast
diplomacy” has helped elevate Taiwan’s
international pro�le, win like-minded democracies’
support and sympathy, and safeguard Taiwan’s
sovereignty against Beijing’s intensive pressure.

By pledging to steer the self-governed island through

“values-based diplomacy,” Lai is expected to frame
Taiwan’s democratic feats as both a model and
inspiration for countries grappling with democratic
regression. In his inaugural address, Lai touted
democracy as one of the “four pillars plan for peace,”
vowing that Taiwan would foster collaboration with
other democracies “to form a democratic community,
and share our experiences across a range of �elds.”
Despite the absence of formal diplomatic relations,
Taiwan has never been more a�liated with Western
democracies than it is now.

Here is where tongzhi (LGBTQ) diplomacy, also

known as “queer diplomacy,” slots in nicely.

Given Taiwan’s progressive policies on human rights

– it was the �rst in Asia to legalize same-sex marriage
– Lai should utilize LGBTQ rights diplomacy to
leverage Taiwan’s international standing as a
thriving democracy where all citizens enjoy equal
rights. The Western democratic world, particularly
the European Union, now views human rights as the
most pressing issue. Hence, Lai should team up with
those nations to form a democratic cohort that
commits to supporting LGBTQ rights.

The Program for EU-Taiwan Gender Equality

Cooperation and Training Framework (EU-Taiwan
GECTF), launched in 2019 to exchange experiences in
LGBTQ rights credentials, is one avenue that Lai may
use to deepen collaboration with European
democracies. This would allow Taiwan to expand its
global footprint while also strengthening ties with
like-minded partners.

To counter Beijing’s persistent attempts to squeeze

Taipei’s maneuvering space, democratic Taiwan
should engage in niche diplomacy by promoting its
LGBTQ rights achievements. Promoting Taiwan’s
image as an unwavering advocate for human rights
and equality could be a strategic move, considering
the striking contrast between China’s conservative
policies and Taiwan’s thriving LGBTQ community. In
the quest for a unique identity, Taiwan might utilize
“queer diplomacy” to set itself apart from China,
particularly when Taiwan has garnered global
attention for its e�orts to defend LGBTQ rights.

Tsai Ing-wen made history in her last days in o�ce

when she invited Nymphia Wind, a Taiwanese-
American drag queen, to perform the �rst-ever drag
show at the Presidential O�ce, showcasing her
steadfast support for the LGBTQ community – and
her hope that Lai, her successor, would follow in her
footsteps to advance gender equality in Taiwan. Lai’s
remarks at the 2023 pride march should be taken as
serious promises toward backing LGBTQ rights in
Taiwan, much like Tsai’s 2016 presidential campaign
pledge to support marriage equality, which she
eventually delivered on.
To uphold Tsai’s legacy, Lai should elevate LGBTQ
rights domestically while utilizing the island
democracy’s progressive modernity to enhance
collaboration with like-minded democracies.

The Authors

is lecturer at Ho Chi Minh City-University of Social

Sciences and Humanities (HCM-USSH), Young Leaders Program
member of the Paci�c Forum, research fellow at the Taiwan NextGen
Foundation, and visiting scholar at National Taiwan University.

is research assistant at HCM-USSH, editor of “World

News Desk” at Vietnam-based Ho Chi Minh City Law Newspaper
(PLO), and columnist for the Vietnam Strategic Forum (VSF).
Diplomat Media, Inc.
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Mubashar Hasan
Brian Hioe
Luke Hunt
Umair Jamal
Aisyah Llewellyn
Mercy A. Kuo
Rathindra Kuruwita
Patricia O’Brien
Mong Palatino
Santosh Sharma Poudel
Rathindra Kuruwita
Rajeswari Pillai Rajagopalan
Tita Sanglee
Sribala Subramanian
Thisanka Siripala
Paolo Sorbello
Troy Stangarone
Takahashi Kosuke
Colleen Wood
Grant Wyeth
Mohamed Zeeshan