The
biggest impact felt in this region during 2002 came not from bombs
exploding but rather from the Chinese 'dragon' stretching; its
twitching tail touching even the most remote Pacific island.
But
this was a process rather than a drama.
The
drama came from violence. The effects of the 11 September attacks
on the US in 2001 echoed round East Asia, and then rebounded more
than a year later with the bombing on 12 October of a Bali night
club, killing almost 200 people - mostly Western tourists.
Leaders
throughout the region showed both dexterity and opportunism after
11 September and again after 12 October by using the transformed
global-security environment to consolidate their own positions.
The leader of every major regional country except Vietnam visited
Washington in late 2001 or during 2002 pledging moral support
and more. In return, they obtained imprimaturs for their own efforts
to rein in groups against their national interests by designating
them as extremists.
Beijing,
for instance, gained Western recognition that the long-standing
struggle for independence by Uyghurs - mostly Muslims of Turkic
descent in resources-rich East Turkistan province - comprised
part of the global fight against extreme Islamic terrorism. Malaysia's
Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad - previously lambasted by Clinton
for having his former deputy, Anwar Ibrahim, tried and jailed
- received praise from US President George Bush for his use of
tough anti-extremist rhetoric and legislation.
Both
11 September and the Bali bombing enabled the 10 members of the
Association of South East Asian Nations (ASEAN) - flailing about
since the end of the Cold War to recast itself as an economic
union - to reposition the organization in the more familiar terrain
of security. Meeting with US Secretary of State Colin Powell in
Brunei in August, ASEAN signed a powerful counter-terrorism pact,
while Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand also entered bilateral
anti-terror arrangements with Australia. Indonesia, the world's
most populous Muslim country, was criticized by its ASEAN neighbours
for taking inadequate action to help them fight terrorism through
the first nine months of 2002. Following the Bali bombings President
Megawati Sukarnoputri signed decrees increasing Indonesia's security
powers and Parliament - with some misgivings - later made them
permanent.
The
Bush administration indicated it would re-establish financial
and training support to the military while boosting its aid to
the police. At the same time, both the Indonesian army and police
stepped up their activities in Aceh and West Papua: the two resources-rich
provinces at either end of the republic that have most strongly
maintained a struggle for independence.
Surprisingly,
in the rest of the Indonesian republic the army was largely kept
in its unaccustomed new place: under civilian control, sidelined
from a central role in domestic law enforcement. The Parliament
abolished the 38 seats reserved for the army in August at the
same time as it introduced direct presidential elections.
However,
opposition and civil-rights groups throughout the region remain
uneasy about the likelihood of human rights becoming a major casualty
of the 'war on terror' diminishing good democratic governance
- which had been steadily increasing its hold - and replacing
it with elected, authoritarian oligopolies.

But
it is China, where democra-tic governance has failed to gain traction,
which has forged furthest ahead since the 'war on terror' began.
With the US strengthening its position in Central Asia, Afghanistan
and Pakistan, and with Japan becoming more strategically engaged,
hardliners within the party's leadership stressed the 'objective
deterioration' of China's surroundings. This reinforced the country's
nationalist thrust, and the rapid modernization of the military.
China's
economy - still growing at more than seven per cent per year -
is now being used as the country's prime diplomatic tool for projecting
its influence to every corner of the region. At the ASEAN summit
in Cambodia in November, China - represented by its 'market Leninist'
Premier, Zhu Rongji - took centre stage. A decade earlier, ASEAN
countries - whose combined GDP remains slightly above China's
- were receiving 80 per cent of the investment coming in to the
region. Today the situation is reversed, with investors relocating
their factories from Southeast Asia to China. The meeting launched
plans for the world's biggest free-trade zone - to be developed
over the next decade - bringing together ASEAN's 500 million people
with China's 1.3 billion. The energetic Zhu then turned to his
Japanese and South Korean counterparts, also attending the summit,
and proposed that these three North Asian economic giants should
start negotiating a trade bloc too.
This
hunger for new, special economic deals followed immediately after
China's accession to the World Trade Organization (WTO) in December
2001. It underlined the crucial significance for China's leaders
of finding ways to keep the economy growing rapidly. For this
is central to their legitimacy. After the Cultural Revolution
had effectively destroyed ideological commitment to communism,
the late Deng Xiaoping cut a new unwritten and unspoken contract
with the Chinese people: we deliver ever-growing living standards,
you let us rule undisturbed.
As
the army of displaced and jobless workers grows - reinforced by
farmers as WTO entry starts to bite - the pressure also keeps
growing to attract new investment and to dominate new markets
overseas. China has already strained its own environment beyond
breaking point. Desertification now blights 28
per cent of the country and bans have been imposed on cutting
further forests.
So
Beijing's answer is to abandon former notions of self-sufficiency,
and to use the nation's new-found economic muscle to import the
raw resources it needs to fuel its growth. This, in addition to
its determination to keep tabs on Taiwan, has driven it to boost
substantially its presence in the Pacific. It has become a major
player in Papua New Guinea's controversial logging industry, and
is building its fishing capacity in the region too. It has a satellite
tracking station in Kiribati.
China
is also doubtless aware that the Melanesian nations are facing
their gravest problems since becoming independent a quarter of
a century ago. The Solomon Islands, now widely dubbed a 'failed
state,' is worst placed: its government is unable to pay its health
workers or teachers, and its militias still control parts of the
country. Its bigger neighbour Papua New Guinea (PNG) removed 70
per cent of its MPs at its mid-year election but saw its economy
slump even faster, with agricultural and resources outputs diving,
its currency also plunging and the Government running out of both
funds and options other than to borrow heavily. In the southern
highlands - PNG's oil- and gas-rich 'Texas' - elections were abandoned
and warlords rule: a troubling version of the region's possible
future.
The
dislocation of the Pacific islands region from its Asian neighbours
- other than China - and from the rest of the global economy continued.
Although the 14 island members of the Pacific Islands Forum agreed
to join a free trade zone over an eight- to ten-year period, inter-island
trade is only two per cent. Attempts to switch to new crops have
not lived up to early hopes. Kava, for instance, soared in Europe
and North America as a cure-all herbal medicine for the 21st century,
with $100 million new plantings. Then claims the herb was linked
to liver disease resulted in bans.
Back
in the 1930s and 1940s Japan failed in its attempt to build an
Asia-Pacific empire or 'co-prosperity sphere'. It is now China's
turn to try. In late 2002, as it constantly worked to build allies,
it forgave Cambodia and Afghanistan their aid debts. In the Pacific,
too, its aid is becoming significant. On its way to building an
empire of its own, it will ultimately drag the Pacific island
nations closer culturally and economically to Asia.