Island People: The Caribbean and the World, by Joshua Jelly-Schapiro -- A book review

This is a great book on many levels. Although it was published already in 2017, it hardly matters given the historical context and the fact that the Caribbean nations have not changed dramatically since then.
Joshua Jelly-Schapiro knows the Caribbean intimately and is extremely well-read in the region and its culture, from history and literature to music. He covers the places he visits or stays in for longer periods from the time of Columbus’ journeys, the colonial period when the islands were used for sugar plantations relying on slave labor, to contemporary cultural trends. This is how a travelogue should be: personal but anchored in the larger historical-geographic-political context, erudite but entertaining.

Yet, it took me some time to wade through the 430+ pages. Not because I wasn’t interested but because some of the chapters (each dealing with a specific island) were rather heavy going. Some sections on the larger islands — Jamaica and Cuba each get three chapters — are lively, mixing culture and societal commentary with the author’s personal experiences.
In the case of Jamaica, rasta culture and reggae, naturally, play an important part. It’s not only about Bob Marley, but also Toots Hibbert, Peter Tosh and many others get their share. Jelly-Schapiro spends time with Chris Blackwell, the founder of Island Records that brought reggae to a wider audience, now living in the villa where Ian Fleming dreamed up James Bond. Jelly-Schapiro places these cultural and musical factors firmly into the socio-political setting.
Similarly, the highly personal section on Cuba brings together history, politics, economy, music and culture. He explores the notion of cubanidad, which “first crystallized as an important, if still vague, idea when the cause of Cuban independence” was promoted by José Martí in the 1880s and 1890s (p. 120). He equally explores the roots of the specifically Cuban music that we love in the mélange of African and European traditions. He highlights the role of Israel “Cachao” Lopez, the legendary musician and composer broght to broader fame in his later years through Buenavista Social Club. The last of the three chapters concerns Cuba in the twilight of Fidel Catro’s reign.
The chapter on Puerto Rico emphasizes the island’s relationhip with the United States and the diaspora in the Bronx. The chapter also traces the history of Puerto Rican nationalism and its hero, Pedro Albizu Campos.
The three chapters dedicated to Hispaniola are weighed down by history, perhaps inevitably given how important it is in explaining the current state of affairs. The two countries that share the island — Dominican Republic and Haiti — are often contrasted, with the first one coming on top as a developmental success story and the second as a hopeless basket case. Jelly-Schapiro brings much nuance to this interpretation highlighting the violent and dictatorial history of the Dominican Republic, while bringing out the humanity in Haiti. He sheds light on the curious racial relations on the island, stemming from the two sides’ histories as Spanish vs. French colonies, and how these continue to cause tensions between the two.
The four chapters covering eight smaller islands in the Lesser Antilles are shorter, perhaps because there’s not that much to report (and perhaps because the author seems to have spent less time on each of them, which is perfectly understandable). His reporting from these islands tends to poke holes to the image of them as paradise. Yet, Jelly-Schapiro’s understanding still brings forth many distinctive features between, say, Barbados and Barbuda, both with a history as British colonies and sugar plantations.
Grenada has a distinct political history and a charismatic leader, Maurice Bishop, executed by his political rivals in 1983. Ronald Reagan found the island’s socialist experiment so threatening that he sent in the marines to subdue the tiny island nation, on the pretext of the presence of Cuban workers helping to expand the airport.
Montserrat, a British Overseas Territory where Sir George Martin, the legendary producer built a house and studio, rose to international attention in 1995 when the long-dormant Soufrière volcano erupted destroying Plymouth, the capital, and forced two-thirds of the island’s population to flee. Jelly-Schapiro explores the volcanic zones with an American geography professor, Lydia Pulsipher, and her husband. They note how, following the disaster, the British governmental aid agency DFID, relocated people into new houses in a non-affected area: “they’re well bjuilt, but they’ve got nothing to do with how Montserratians live; with the old social structure here, and with homes they built to fit it” (p. 319). Unfortunately, this is a picture that often emerges when well-meaning outsiders try to assist countries to rebuild after a disaster (for example in the aftermath of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami).
Martinique, which still today is a French territory and the westernmost extension of EU, deserves a lengthy chapter, largely due to the writers and political thinkers it has produced, such as Aimé Césaire and Patrick Chamoiseau. Jelly-Schapiro writes (p. 358):
“Few large countries, let alone little ones, boast the literary riches allowing one to trace the whole modern arc of their culture, and the contours of that culture’s conflicts, through those of its books.”
Accordingly focusing on these writers and their poetry and their legacy at the expense of the author’s own experiences, these 32 pages took me more effort than most other parts of the book.
Throughout, the book discusses numerous authors from the islands, many of whom have achieved fame outside of the Caribbean: C.L.R. James and V.S. Naipaul (Trinidad), George Lamming (Barbados), Jamaica Kincaid (Antigua), Franz Fanon (Martinique), Jean Rhys (Dominica), and the already-mentioned Aimé Césaire and Patric Chamoiseau
Luckily, he saved the best for the last. The 40-page final chapter on Trinidad is superbly crafted. Its culture and social and political issues are presented in a very animated way. Jelly-Schapiro has spent ample time on the island, including as a visiting scholar at the university. The carnival, the calypso and steel bands form a sort of a backbone to the chapter. Jelly-Schapiro tells the dramatic story of Michael Abdul Hakim (a.k.a. Michael X), a Black activist, and the people around him.His best informant is Jay Telfer, an octogenarian figure whom he befriended. Telfer who in the 1960s played a central role in bringing West Indian culture, including the Notting Hill Carnival, to London, is a font of information and a delightful character. Before that, in the 1950s, Jay Telfer studied at NYU and worked at the jazz clubs in Greenwich Village where he met many jazz legends, and where Thelonius Monk told Telfer he was the only man able to dance to Monk’s music. Although involved in politics throughout his career, Jelly-Schapiro says of Telfer: “Personal ethics, like personal style, were for him much more important than politics” (p. 411).
Jelly-Schapiro has written a highly interesting and valuable book, although it is somewhat uneven. He generally writes well alternating between the casual when describing his own personal experiences and the academic. There are places where his style can get a bit out of hand. Take, for example, this sentence about Chamoiseau (p. 334):
“And his ideas’ shadows have been palpably present, too, over polemics surrounding the French Antilles’ great human export of now; those other public artists — soccer players — whose goals in World Cup stadia, firing France to victory in a Coupe de Monde contested in Paris in 1998, prompted scenes of joy on the Champs-Elysées more massive than any since the Liberation, and forced a country still unaccustomed to seeing itself reflected in the brown and black faces of its colonies to ask pointed questions about what, two centuries after Robespierre’s fall, a Frenchman is.”
Apart from these squabbles, it is a book worthy of its author, a fellow geographer, with a PhD from UC Berkeley. Finally, Jelly-Schapiro confesses to having adopted C.L.R. James as “a kind of intellectual hero and style icon alike” (p. 401):
“Here was a scholar activist who wrote with equal verve and brilliance about the Haitian Revolution and the game of cricket, Hegelian philosophy and Hollywood movies, Herman Melville and calypso music — and whose synthetic aptitude for doing so, moreover, found him placing all those subjects within the larger telos not only of modern capitalism but also of humanity’s struggle for democracy reaching back to the Greeks.”
If this cultural-historical-political-social mixture was what Joshua Jelly-Schapiro aimed for in this book, I think he pretty much succeeded.

The Happiest Country Rejects Divisiveness

 

People in Finland are getting tired of cuts to the welfare state and the anti-immigrant rhetoric in recent years.

On Sunday, April 14^th, Finland had regional and local elections where subnational units, cities and communes elected their representatives. The results were a radical turnaround from the previous national elections in 2023, that ushered in the current right-wing coalition government. This time, the opposition Social Democratic Party gained the most and became the largest party, while the coalition government partners generally lost their shares. Most significantly, the anti-immigration Finns Party suffered a crushing blow.

I arrived in Helsinki soon after and was able to gauge the sentiments of some of the denizens of the capital city where I was born and spent the first 25 years of my life. The admittedly completely unscientific sample consisting of people in my circle nevertheless provided some insights into why this change happened. Mind you, the people I talked with represent a range of very different political views, although they all are from Helsinki and all have been academically educated.

Since the fall of the government of the Social Democratic prime minister Sanna Marin (famous for her social media presence, featuring dancing and partying), Finland has been governed by a right-wing coalition led by Petteri Orpo of the largest conservative party in the country, the National Coalition Party (NCP). In the parliamentary system of Finland where there currently are nine national parties represented in the parliament, no single party will ever come even close to garnering an absolute majority of votes. Consequently, all governments are coalition governments pulled together by the biggest winner of any election. The current government brings together members from the NCP, the Swedish People´s Party (SFP/RKP), the Christian Democrats, and the populist Finns Party. SFP and the Christians are minor players, respectively with 4.3% and 4.2% of the votes in the 2023 elections, but Orpo brought them along to pull together enough for a ruling majority.

The Finns Party with their 20.1% share of the votes in the 2023 election rose to the second place just behind NCP. With this, they laid claim to a large number of seats in the government, including that of the Minister of Finance: Riikka Purra’s rather extreme views regarding immigrants have shocked many citizens, while gaining approval from her supporters.

The government embarked on an unabashed assault on the welfare state that has long been the foundation of the Finnish society, as in its Nordic neighbors. The government policies have focused on cutting public services, including support to health care, students and the unemployed. International development assistance faces reductions of one-quarter of the funding. The government program also includes tax cuts for firms and the wealthy, while the value added tax was increased resulting in higher costs for everyone, including those with the fewest means.

Finland has been ranked the world’s happiest country for eight years in a row. Most of my compatriots scoff at this distinction: we don’t feel that we’re particularly happy—and certainly don’t show it by dancing or hugging each other or smiling excessively. In fact, there’s an old saying in Finland advising us that s/he who is happy should hide their happiness (Kell’ onni on se onnen kätkeköön). The UN-sponsored World Happiness Report ranks countries based on a single question of subjective feeling. But it also looks into areas such as income, healthy life expectancy, social support, generosity, freedom to make life choices, and perceptions of corruption. It clearly doesn’t measure individual happiness. Molly Young in a perceptive article in the New York Times Magazine makes the distinction between “affective” and “evaluative” happiness. The Finnish kind is more the latter, like contentedness.

The fact that Finland has ranked so high on this happiness list for such a long time is largely due to the extensive welfare state. Finland is a high-income country with relatively small differences between the rich and poor, at least compared with the USA. We have world class education (although the standards have sunk somewhat in recent years) and universal healthcare. We have a lengthy life expectancy, which stems partly from that access to healthcare, but also from the clean environment and relatively healthy lifestyle, with most people enjoying outdoors activities in nature. Importantly, the Finns have a high level of trust in each other—a lost wallet is likely to be returned to the rightful owner; and we generally trust our elected officials and government employees to be honest. It’s one of the least corrupt countries in the world (which obviously doesn’t mean everyone is squeaky clean).

The welfare state is of course expensive and has resulted in soaring public debt. It reached 82.1% of GDP in the last quarter of 2024 (which is bad, or not so bad, depending on what you compare with; for neighboring Sweden the percentage is just 46.18% but for the mighty USA it is 97.8%—and counting). Maintaining the welfare state translates into a high rate and highly progressive taxation, which is a constant complaint you hear in Helsinki. The current government’s strategy is to shift the tax burden from firms and wealthy individuals to the everyman, relying on the universally discredited trickle-down theory. When it cuts services at the same time, the result is people being squeezed. Which is not popular.

As a result, the biggest winner in the April elections were the Social Democrats, which collected 22.5% of the vote and became the largest party. The voters’ message was clear: no more cuts. However, the money has to come from somewhere. A professor friend of mine, who is quite unhappy with the current government, also indicated that he would not vote for the Social Democrats because of their profligate spending.

One of the issues plaguing Finland is productivity, which is affected by the population structure. Like most European countries, Finland’s population is aging rapidly (most Asian countries, too, including China and Japan are facing the same trend). Another scientist friend of mine attributed many of Finland’s economic problems to this fundamental issue. The dependency ratio—that is, persons below 15 or over 65 years of age compared to working age population—is now 61.1, with 23.6% of people older than 65. With the below-replacement birth rate of just 1.3 children per woman, and the longevity (79.0 years for men and 84.2 years for women), aging of the population structure is inevitable

Except for immigration. Without it, the Finnish population actually decreased by 17,956 people in 2023. In the same year, net migration to the country was 57,914, thus more than compensating for the decline. The immigrants also tend to be younger, working age adults. Like elsewhere in Europe and the United States, immigration is a hot political issue. The neighboring countries—Russia, Estonia and Sweden—have always been top origins of immigrants, with the addition of Ukrainians since Russia’s attack on the country (while the inflow of Russians has been halted by closed borders). However, it is the immigrants and asylum seekers from countries like Iraq, Somalia, Syria, Afghanistan, and Kurds from Iran and Turkey, who get most of the attention.

The Finns Party built their platform largely on opposing immigration and they were for some years very successful in their strategy. Now the latest election results suggest otherwise. They received only 7.8% of the vote in the regional elections and even less (7.6%) at the municipal level.

Russia with which Finland shares a 1,340 km-long border is a problematic neighbor, not least in recent years. Putin’s aggression in Ukraine and beyond prompted Finland to abandon its traditional neutrality and join NATO in 2024. This decision was supported by an overwhelming majority of Finns, including those I talked with. The highly popular President Alexander Stubb has provided solid leadership in the country and beyond when it comes to foreign policy. (Stubb who started his presidency in 2024 came from NCP. However, in Finland when elected, the president habitually gives up his party affiliation to truly unify the entire nation.)

One friend, an art historian told me that, while she has never been a fan of Russia and has never visited Moscow, she used to travel regularly to St. Petersburg, a cosmopolitan city with handsome architecture and great art collections, only about 380 km from Helsinki. There used to be a lot of cross-border traffic while the border was open. My friend confessed to being a bit nostalgic about the trips but she accepts that the city being off-limits is the price we have to pay.

All parties, including the traditionally anti-NATO Left Alliance, supported Finland’s membership in the military alliance. However, a recent poll shows a decrease in trust in NATO since President Trump has cast doubt on American commitment to come to the aid of fellow NATO members. Still, two-thirds of the Finns support NATO membership. Due to Russia’s proximity and the wars Finland fought with the Soviet Union (1939; and 1941-42), Finland, unlike many other Western European countries, never neglected its own defense or relied solely on US security guarantees. In 2023, it spent 2.4% of its GDP on defense and has pledged to increase spending to 3% before the end of the decade. This obviously poses further budgetary challenges and competes with other needs of the welfare state.

Finland is a country where people live close to nature and it is not surprising that the Greens have been relatively strong. This time around, too, they gathered 9.1% of the vote. I was curious why more Finns don’t vote for the Greens (in fact, their share nationally was almost identical to that of the Left Alliance). I asked two of my friends—a musician and a university professor—about their views. Both gave similar answers, having to do with too broad a coalition of special interests, which dilutes the focus and reduces the excitement regarding the Green agenda. This influence of special interests may be similar to the situation of the Democratic Party in the US.

So far, I’ve written about the country as a whole. Helsinki is a bit of an anomaly. Of Finland’s 5.6 million people, about 1.4 million live in the capital region. There NCP remains dominant, although the Social Democrats almost caught up with them. Although the Greens lost somewhat as compared with the 2021 municipal elections, they still remained the third largest party with 17.9% of the vote. In Helsinki, the Finns Party received only 5.5% of the vote. This reflects the fact that Helsinki is the wealthiest, best educated and most cosmopolitan place in the country. Both the NCP and the Social Democrats are largely supported by urbanites and well-educated people. The same goes for the Greens, while the Finns Party and the Center Party tend to be popular outside of the cities.

Like elsewhere, Finnish politicians and people alike face difficult choices. One fundamental tension is between the financial burden of maintaining the welfare state and the growing fiscal deficits. The need to invest more into defense also competes with other priorities.

The Russian war against Ukraine and the generally unstable situation in Europe and the world, has diverted attention from other issues, such as climate change. Still, a recent survey by the Ministry of the Environment shows that almost everyone (91%) is worried about climate change and global biodiversity loss, and 97% of the respondents believe that clean nature enhances people’s health and well-being.

Another tension appears between the need to maintain Finland’s productivity and working-age population and the perceived problems caused by immigration. While Finland overall is still a fairly low-immigration country, as compared with many other European countries, such as France and Germany (apart from policy, there’s no doubt that the northern climate and the challenging language contribute to this), there has been an increase in recent years. This is felt especially with regard to non-European immigrants whose culture may make assimilation in the Finnish society harder. While 85% of immigrants live in cities, the opposition to them is highest outside, as the support to the Finns Party shows.

As population ages in all major regions of the world, except in Africa, and the UN projects that the global population will start shrinking during the second half of this century, many countries have tried establishing pronatal policies encouraging people to have more children. We do have to have a serious debate of population and whether its continued growth is needed or there are other ways to deal with the challenges (look especially to Japan). But that’s an entirely different discussion for another day.

It will be interesting to see which way future directions in the Finnish politics will turn. As a Finn living outside of the country for many years, I for one will be watching it carefully.

[Originally published at https://juhauitto.substack.com on May 12, 2025.]

Adriatic by Robert D. Kaplan

Two-thirds through the book, Robert Kaplan worries that this book fits in no category: "It is not military strategy, political  science, original archival history, conventional long-form journalism, traditional travel writing, memoir, or literary criticism" (p.237). He's right about that, although it has elements of all or most of the above. Kaplan, a renowned geopolitical analyst, has written 20 books of which I have read about half a dozen before this one. It is thus clear that I like his writing and his perspective on contemporary affairs. His work is always anchored in history and geography, which gives it more depth than most others. (It has to be said that many academic geographers are highly critical of Kaplan's analysis, judging him to be something of a geographical determinist and of a somewhat conservative bent; I do not subscribe to this view and, on the contrary, appreciate Kaplan's traditional approach to political geography.)

This book was, however, a harder read than any of the others that I have read. Kaplan has a fascination with history that takes him way back in time to Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages. He is also deeply interested in architecture and culture, including religion. Consequently, the early parts of the book, focusing on Trieste and Venice in Italy, are rather heavy, with much emphasis on the above aspects. Throughout the book, he expends much effort to pondering the relationship between the past powers (the Habsburg and Ottoman empires, Venice...) and the influences of Catholism, Eastern Orthodoxism and Islam. There is also an extraordinary amount of introspection. 

At least to me, the book gets more interesting as the author travels down the eastern Adriatic coast, from Slovenia through Croatia, Montenegro and Albania ending up on the island of Corfu. In these parts, he talks more to people--historians and other academics, politicians, journalists and others--which adds much needed color and points of view bringing the analysis to recent history and the present. Kaplan, in my view, is in his own element when discussing the geopolitics of the region. I personally learned a lot about the history of the Adriatic and especially the Balkans.

In the final part, Kaplan ponders the future of Europe, not in the long term but what comes next and which way it will develop. He also discusses the state of nation states and the tensions between multiculturalism (as today experienced in cities), identity, and the nationalist and populist instincts that currently prevail. These are thoughtful passages.

How population characteristics shape our world, and how we can influence them

Jennifer D. Sciubba, currently President and CEO of Population Reference Bureau, is a political demographer. She is a leading expert in how population trends and composition affect politics and social relations -- and vice versa. This is what makes her analysis more interesting than your run-of-the-mill books on demography. My own background was originally in population geography, so the fundamentals that Sciubba explains in the book are very familiar to me.

Beyond those fundamentals, there is a lot of interesting and insightful in the book. For example, Sciubba points out that neither rapid population growth nor aging are per se not inherently problematic. Instead, their impact depends on the governance, political and economic circumstances. While fertility has dropped to below replacement levles, resulting in population shrinkage without immigration in most parts of the world (including Europe, North America, Japan, China, even Brazil), it remains very high in most of Africa where the societies' ability to accommodate the large cohorts of new entrants into labor force are generally weak. Sub-Saharan Africa contines to be the place with the largest growth in population. Almost 90% of world's population growth until mid-century will take place in lower-middle and low-income countries. This will pose challenges in terms of political stability and pressures to migrate. Sciubba also points out that it is not to poorest people from the poorest countries who migrate, because migration requires a certain amount of financial resources as well as skills to navigate the complex challenges of international migration. This fact casts doubt on the oft-heard justification for foreign aid to help people where they are, so that they will be discouraged to move.

A feature that makes Sciubba's book a lively read is her ample use of historical and current examples to demonstrate the more technical or theoretical points. They range from the impacts of China's one-child policy to the Rwandan genocide; from the relationship between aging societies and peace, to implications of Nigeria's youthful population. (I have to point out an odd slip: At one point, Sciubba places the southern African country of Botswana in the Sahel.)

Although Sciubba mentions climate change in several places, as acting as a stressor and as a driver of migration, it features fairly little in the book. That of course could be the focus of a separate book in itself.

A worthwhile and entertaining read, I'd recommend this book to anyone interesting in how population trends, fertility, mortality and migration shape society all over the world.

I want a world where evidence counts

Today’s world is not my kind of place. I want to live in a rational world where intelligent women and men debate ideas in a reasoned way and in which they make decisions based on evidence: scientific evidence, evaluative evidence, evidence based on analyzing facts and past experiences. A world where emotions and feelings have a role but they don’t replace knowledge. Instead, they help us define the goals about what kind of future we want. In my preferred world, the women and men – all of us – who look at data and think about how we got here, and which way we should go next and how to get there, are educated and cultured. They know history and they understand culture.

We will still disagree with each other, as we come from different backgrounds and we have had different experiences that have shaped our worldview. We can disagree on issues of societal importance: Where shall we place our limited resources? What is the right level of government involvement in the economy? How large income differences can we tolerate? How should we punish offenders? How much immigration is good? We can debate all these important policy matters in a civilized manner, and evidence of what actually brings us towards our policy goals will inform our decision-making.

There is no one great truth. Intelligent, thoughtful people can arrive at very different conclusions. Furthermore, the devil is often in the details. The answer is seldom, if ever, all or nothing. For example, in education, as Matthew Yglesias points out on Substack, there are “tradeoffs between cultivating the performance of the strongest students and shoring up the performances of the weakest ones.” The trick here, as in most policy matters, is to calibrate the policies so that they produce an optimal outcome in terms of encouraging the best students to excel without creating excessive inequalities. There are empirical ways of finding that sweet spot.

There, nevertheless, are truths that are fixed: the Earth is not flat; dinosaurs did not roam around with cavemen; gravity causes light to bend; emitting CO₂ and methane into the atmosphere warms up global climate. Journalists who present “both sides of the story” in the name of evenhandedness when one side represents an obvious falsehood do a great disservice. People are entitled to their opinions but if someone claims something that is patently false – like, the world was created 5,000 years ago – they are dismissed as a crank. People worship thousands of different gods and an increasing number of us are at the very least agnostic about the existence of even one. Yet, every believer also believes that believing in their god and worshipping him or her exactly the way prescribed by their religion is the only way to heaven, while others are sent to eternal damnation. Going to war or killing each other based on religious differences may be the most irrational thing humans engage in.

Today, identity politics seem to rule. It is somewhat ironic that the origin of identity politics is at the Right end of the spectrum (the white supremacists with their “great replacement theory”), but it has now been owned by the progressive Left – and for them, the identity that overwhelms everything else is race. Well, we know, of course, that the continuum, rather than a straight line, is circular and the opposite ends eventually meet. Humans naturally have multiple identities. I personally don’t think of myself primarily as white or even a man. I am also a father and a husband in a multi-cultural and multi-racial family,  a son of my parents (who both have left us), a Finn, a European and an immigrant, speaker of a minority language, a jazz afficionado, an environmentalist, a culinarist, etc. etc. The notion of reducing everything to race (and gender) is plain insulting. Not to mention intellectually lazy, especially in a world where a steadily increasing proportion of people defy simple racial categories. Like my own daughter. Yet, now we see segregation again, this time voluntarily initiated by some colored persons, including at some universities. What would Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. think? His goal was a colorblind society where every human is judged by their character, not by the color of their skin. Or Nelson Mandela who prioritized peaceful coexistence and forgiveness over revenge and mayhem?

The preposterous ”great replacement theory” assumes a wide conspiracy whereby Jews and liberal elites are intentionally promoting immigration (illegal and otherwise) of colored non-Christian people to America and Europe so that whites would become a minority. Conspiracies tend to be generally implausible because they assume that, well, large numbers of people actually conspire towards some nefarious goal – and no-one ever spills the beans. This doesn’t mean that conspiracies are non-existent. But many of the conspiracy theories going around sound like they came from a 1950s B-list horror-movie, like the one about elites actually smuggling children whom they would eat at a secret basement of a pizzeria in Washington, DC (coincidentally, a pizzeria that I and my family have personally frequented). In an election year, there have been congressional efforts to solve the immigration crisis at the southern border of the USA, but a certain group of rightwing representatives has blocked any solution or compromise because they want to use the administration’s inability to deal with illegal immigration as an election trump card (on June 4, President Joe Biden used executive authority to impose new restrictions on illegal immigration). If that’s a conspiracy – and maybe it is – it certainly isn’t a secret one. Cynical it is: to prevent a solution to a problem that ranks high on people’s list of worries just so you can paint your opponent as incapable.

The debate on the origins of the Covid-19 pandemic provides another example of the politicization of an issue that should be evidence-based. While both theories of a natural origin and a lab leak are plausible, there is compelling evidence that would point to the latter (the principle of Occam’s razor would strongly favor a lab leak). Yet, in the US congress the issue has become sharply divisive along party lines. Despite scientific evidence, the Democrats flatly refuse even to consider the possibility of a lab leak, apparently fearing that it would further erode trust in the government and the scientific community.

The cynicism of politicians breeds cynicism among regular people. If we are concerned about democracy, we should fight cynicism, which makes people feel that their actions – or voting – have no influence on anything. Cynicism’s sibling, sarcasm, is an unhelpful attempt at humor but it seems to be the dominant form now.

I believe that a key to the gridlock on many fronts would be placing evidence in its rightful place. Evidence comes from a variety of sources and in different shapes. However, it is not evidence just because it’s written in a book that some consider holy. Nor is it evidence if it simply is based on some person’s feelings. We know that in a criminal court, the rules of evidence are stringent. Prosecutors must present the evidence in a systematic way so as to convince the judge and the jury that there is no reasonable doubt of a person’s guilt. The system is not infallible but, as a rule, no single piece of evidence alone is sufficient to convict a person. And when new evidence – or better methods of discovering evidence – is presented, this will be weighed against the previous verdict. This is pretty much how science works as well. Scientists use the best available methods, considering all possible factors and alternative explanations, to home in on the theory that best stands up to scrutiny – convincing the peer reviewers and the broader scientific community is a bit like convincing the jury of your peers – until something comes along that calls for rethinking or refining the theory.

Evaluative evidence equally draws upon multiple sources of information using multiple methods. Some methods – like randomized controlled trials – have been borrowed from medicine but they are by no means the only, or even the best, source of evidence. Apart from quantitative methods, there are qualitative approaches that can be equally rigorous. Participatory approaches engage the claimholders and intended beneficiaries, so that their experiences weigh in on the assessment (again, the experience of a single individual does not constitute evidence and it’s important to recognize that different groups of people may win or lose and have different priorities and expectations in the first place). We need what Michael Quinn Patton has called bricolage, a full set of approaches and methods from which to select the most appropriate for each question to be answered.

One of the founders of the discipline of evaluation, the American psychologist and methodologist Donald T. Campbell (1916-1986) wished for a society that would be guided by evidence. Policies would be developed on the basis of what works, instead of political convictions. This vision may never come to pass – and maybe that’s a good thing, as we do need a healthy debate on the goals that we would like to advance as a society. However, today we seem to be further away from this vision than in a long while. Not only is trust in science and expertise at an extraordinarily low level, we don’t even want to hear any opinion or counterargument that contradicts our deep-seated beliefs. On both the Left and the Right there are efforts to silence, sometimes violently, voices that do not conform with their worldview.

This is a sad state of affairs. Without a reasoned, evidence-based debate society will not be able to advance.

China's Asian Dream: Empire Building along the New Silk Road by Tom Miller
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Tom Miller, a former journalist and senior analyst at Gavekal Research, is a China expert who has spent years in the country and Asia more broadly, and can speak and read Chinese. This is his second book; the first one, China’s Urban Billion was published by Zed in 2012. He is in an excellent position for having written China’s Asian Dream, that focuses on China’s strategic vision and actions to reclaim what it sees as its rightful place as the undisputed leader in Asia. The book gives a systematic and lively treatise of China’s aspirations on the continent and in the world. It paints a picture that poses significant challenges not only to the neighboring countries in the region, but to the West and the United States in particular.

The first part of the book provides a broad historical and geopolitical context, including a brief overview of China’s long history and its humiliation by Britain and the British East Asia Company in the 1939 Opium War and the 1942 Treaty of Nanking that forced China to open its ports to foreign trade. Then in 1895 followed the defeat in the Sino-Japanese war, no less by a country that China regarded a little brother. Then in 1931 Japan invaded China’s northeast setting up Manchukuo, a puppet state. In 1937, a full-out war broke with Japanese domination for years to come. These were humiliations that China has never forgotten (although Mao later thanked Japan for the invasion, as it eventually enabled the successful Communist takeover in 1949).

Chapter 1 after this introduction tells about the ongoing effort by China to establish a ‘New Silk Road,’ what it calls ‘One Belt, One Road,’ connecting China to its neighbors through both a terrestrial and maritime route eventually leading to Europe. The initiative is tied to financing by the Silk Road Fund and the newly established Asian Infrastructure Development Bank. The aim is to tie Asian countries more tightly to China’s sphere of interest through extensive investment in infrastructure. This more proactive strategy, as Miller points out, is a clear departure from China’s earlier foreign policy established by Deng Xiaoping that “diplomacy must serve the greater goal of domestic development” (p. 26). The current President Xi Jingping has taken a much more aggressive stance in promoting Chinese interests abroad.

The rest of the book is divided into sections based on geography. Here Miller reports first-hand accounts from his travels often to remote local areas in the countries. The first such section focuses on Central Asia, including China’s western Islamic dominated province of Xinjiang (literally, ‘New territory’). The Central Asian republics of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan used to belong to the Soviet Union and, while becoming independent after the breakup of the empire, have maintained close ties to Russia. Recently, however, China has made a concerted effort to muscle itself into Central Asia and its expansive oil fields. “Economically, China – not Russia – is now top dog in Central Asia,” writes Miller (p. 75). However, business for the Chinese traders is not always easy, given the need to routinely bribe border guards and the occasional troubles that break out. Tens of thousands of Chinese have settled into Central Asia, but most of them see them as temporary visitors making some money for a few years before returning home. While the Chinese investment is welcomed by the governments, local people fear they are being overtaken by the Chinese – a theme that is quite common throughout the book. Russia at the same time is concerned about losing its grip on Central Asia. Local people in the Stans are worried about Russia’s intentions, especially after Putin’s annexation of Crimea in 2014. Russia remains militarily dominant in the region and its cultural ties to Central Asia are definitely closer than those of China.

The next part deals with Laos and Cambodia, two of Southeast Asia’s poorest countries downstream in the Mekong basin from China’s Yunnan Province. Yunnan shares a 4,000 km long border with Southeast Asia and the Chinese planners have made it a priority to connect these two parts with extensive road and railway connections, as well as air links. China has designated Yunnan as ‘bridgehead’ for Southeast Asia’s development. As Miller notes, ‘bridgehead’ is a military term, which may have unfortunate connotations (p. 98). Laos is also one of the few remaining communist countries ruled by the Lao People’s Revolutionary Party. It is traditionally closely allied with Vietnam and was heavily bombed by the American air force during the Vietnam War, although Laos was not officially a party in the war. When I worked there a decade ago, the Vietnamese presence was still prevalent and Thailand also had a strong influence. In the northern parts of the country, however, you could see an increasing Chinese influence. Today the capital city, Vientiane, has been transformed by Chinese capital. Miller reports from Udomxai, the biggest town in northern Laos where the Chinese make up some 15% of the inhabitants. Even Chinese farmers are moving to Laos to take advantage of the country’s cheap and fertile land. Moving to the infamous opium growing Golden Triangle where Laos meets Thailand and Myanmar, Miller finds industrial scale agricultural plantations operated by the Chinese. Chinese-owned casinos have sprouted up there to cater to Chinese and Thai gamblers; and even the working girls are imported from China (p. 111). Further south, in Cambodia, the Chinese money and influence are equally important and eagerly received by the thuggish Hun Sen regime, which ranked as one of the most corrupt countries in the world by Transparency International. As a consequence, Cambodia has often been out of line with its fellow members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), regularly supporting China in its controversial and expansionist policies pertaining to Tibet, Taiwan, Xinjiang and, importantly, the South China Sea. While the elites in these countries are all too happy to receive China and its investments, the relationships between the regular people and the Chinese immigrants who are not known for their respect for other people’s cultures is not always equally friendly. Furthermore, as Miller points out, there is a fine balance to be achieved in foreign relations: for instance, China’s increasing influence in Cambodia is resented in Vietnam (p. 124).

Myanmar provides a cautionary tale as to the perils of associating with undemocratic and corrupt regimes. In the following chapter Miller reports on how China “lost” Myanmar, where it was the closest (in fact only) international ally to the notorious military regime. When the junta dissolved in 2012, anti-Chinese protests ensued, in particular against Chinese state-owned firms operating a giant dam, a copper mine, and oil and gas mines. The Chinese were accused of taking land with poor compensation from locals, as well as destroying the environment and ransacking natural resources (p. 127). Myanmar’s democratic transition coincided by the American government’s ‘pivot to Asia,’ which worried China. Anti-Chinese feelings are widespread in Myanmar and the democratization and consequent freedom of expression led quickly to popular protests against China. Public pressure even caused the new president to suspend work on the $3.6 billion Myitsone Dam that was a Chinese flagship project. The leaders in China were shocked about how popular opinion could lead to such a disastrous outcome – obviously, they were not used to the fact that people’s views mattered – and Chinese analysts started talking about the ‘loss’ or Myanmar (p. 128). Miller claims that in the recent years the Chinese firms have started to understand that they need to improve their relations with local populations (p. 134). The Chinese state has also taken unprecedented steps as a mediator between the government of Myanmar and the Kachin rebels up north. Despite the tensions China should not be counted out in Myanmar. Trade between China and Myanmar stands for a high share of Myanmar’s GDP – and this is not counting the highly significant illegal trade in timber, opium, meta-amphetamines and jade. The environmental watchdog Global Witness estimates that the jade trade in alone 2014 was worth a whopping $31 billion and a significant driver of the armed conflict with the Kachin (p. 141). In the late 1990s, when traveling in the border region of Yunnan and Myanmar, I could witness an incredibly buoyant trade in jade that was by no means under ground. Miller travels to Lashio, the largest town in northeastern Myanmar to seek evidence of a reported ‘Chinese invasion,’ but finds little by way of new arrivals. He concludes that Myanmar doesn’t need to worry about being overrun by Chinese people, but rather by Chinese money: “Myanmar’s problem is less one of outsiders arriving and taking over than one of outsiders taking what they want and then leaving” (p. 148).

One of the reasons why Myanmar is so important is because of China’s desire to gain access to the Bay of Bengal. Such a western seaboard for China would notably improve its energy supplies and reduce the risks of importing most of its oil through the narrow Straits of Malacca that could be blocked by US or other war ships during a time of conflict. Some years ago the Chinese national petroleum company constructed oil and gas pipelines from the Myanmar coast to Yunnan. These pipelines, which were subject to protests during their construction, started pumping natural gas from the Myanmar’s Shwe gas field in 2013 and two years later the first oil was pumped, bringing billions of dollars to the government of Myanmar as well as benefiting China. A Chinese port on the Bay of Bengal is also seen as important for facilitating exports to Bangladesh, India and beyond. Importantly, the economic corridor from Yunnan to the Bay of Bengal allows Beijing to extend its sphere of influence to the Indian Ocean (p. 150). Miller concludes that much depends on how Myanmar’s new government, in effect led by Aung San Suu Kyi, receives China’s approaches and whether Chinese companies there behave responsibly.

In a chapter entitled “A String of Pearls” Miller turns his attention to the Indian Ocean where China has become increasingly active. Indian analysts believe that the Chinese are systematically building naval bases around Indian ocean establishing what they have called ‘a string of pearls’ in order to enhance their dominance of what India considers their backyard. India and China have a half century long history of mutual distrust. Latest this summer, the two countries’ armies were at loggerheads across their land border in the Himalayas. Indian concerns about the ‘string of pearls’ has further intensified since Xi Jinping announce the plan to build a Maritime Silk Road in 2013 (p. 167). Indian analysts that Miller has talked to see China’s advancement as a conscious step by Beijing to expand its dominance in the region. While India could benefit from cooperating with China on initiatives, such as the Bangladesh-China-India-Myanmar Economic Corridor, there are significant security-related concerns. In Miller’s judgment, these are exaggerated: “Beijing is far more interested in securing alternative routes for its energy imports and in protecting commercial sea lanes than it is in building a new empire” (p. 171). This despite the fact that Miller recognizes that China’s schemes have geostrategic as well as commercial motives. India is concerned about Sri Lank sliding into China’s sphere. However, a particular sore point is the long-standing friendship between China and Pakistan, an expression of which is the Chinese port development in Gwadar on the coast of Baluchistan and the associated plan to develop a China-Pakistan Economic Corridor running from Gwadar to the Chinese border and Kashgar in Xinjiang. Apart from opening up an alternative route for energy imports, according to Miller, China also wants to use this massive economic cooperation to persuade Pakistan’s government to rule in Islamic extremists whose tentacles reach across the border to Xinjiang (p. 176). Importantly, the Gwadar port provides a valuable permanent maritime base for China on Indian Ocean, near the shipping lanes from the Middle East and Africa.

China had a close relationship with the government of Mahenda Rajapaksa, former dictatorial and thuggish president of Sri Lanka, supplying the bulk of arms he used in the prolonged civil war against the Tamil population in the north of the island country. During that period, Chinese banks financed major projects in Sri Lanka constructed by Chinese firms. The banks loaned money at high interest rates so that these could be used to provide kickbacks to Rajapaksa and his cronies. After the civil war ended and Rajapaksa died, these high interest rate loans have been a major bone of contention between the new government and China. As Miller states: “For China, Sri Lanka offers a test case of how nimbly its leaders and enterprises can react to the vicissitudes of foreign politics” (p. 195). He quotes a Sri Lankan intellectual saying: “The Chinese do not quite understand how to deal with countries that are democracies, where you have political transitions as we have seen here .. They would rather deal with a corrupt dictatorship and not worry about it.”

The final chapter of the book deals with the fiery waters of South China Sea, an area where tensions have risen in recent years as China has aggressively pursued an expansionist policy (see also Hayton, 2014; Kaplan, 2015). China has claimed sovereignty over most of South China Sea causing conflict with many of its neighbors. It claims the Paracel Islands southeast of Hainan. These are also claimed by Taiwan and Vietnam, but China has controlled them since it wrested them from South Vietnam in a maritime battle in 1974. Much further away from the Chinese mainland and its exclusive economic zone as recognized by international law lie the Spratly Islands, which are also subject to disputes between China, Vietnam, Malaysia, Philippines, Brunei and Taiwan. Using its military power, China has in the past several years focused on creating ‘facts on the ground’ by carrying out massive reclamation works to create artificial islands and building garrisons on them. The Chinese government has, somewhat disingenuously, used both claims based on international law and, when they have been unsuccessful, historical claims to the ownership of the islands. Already in 1975, Deng Xiaoping told his Vietnamese counterpart that the islands of South China Sea had “belonged to China since ancient times” (p. 202). As demonstrated by Bill Hayton in his excellent book The South China Sea and summarized here by Miller, these historical claims are at best dubious. For most part of its 2000 years of history, the South China Sea was a trading area for the various peoples belonging to shifting kingdoms that occupied the littoral. The Chinese empire was not even active in maritime affairs for most of that period. The claims to the South China Sea started appearing in Chinese maps for the first time in 1914 and these were used as a basis for claims by the Nationalist government and the Communists after that. In 2009, China for the first time submitted a map to the United Nations Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf in which appeared a nine-dash line (also known as the ‘cow’s lick’) and exerting “indisputable sovereignty over the islands in the South China Sea and adjacent waters” (p. 206). The Southeast Asian nations were understandably furious. Since then, Chinese actions in the South China Sea have resulted in numerous conflicts with the neighbors. China has blocked oil exploration in the territorial waters of Vietnam, which it claims to itself. There have been naval standoffs and actual shooting incidents between Chinese and Vietnamese and Philippines forces. And China has harassed fishing vessels from other countries that have ventured into disputed waters.

One of the reasons for China claiming virtually all of South China Sea, including the EEZs of the adjacent Southeast Asian nations pertains to the hydrocarbons to be found in the seabed. However, Miller does not believe this to be a major motivation: it is believed that the region contains relatively little oil and gas, and what is there is hard to exploit due to difficult geology and powerful typhoons. The real reason he says is to gain strategic control of the shipping lanes (p. 210). Miller appears to have some sympathy for China’s position, although he recognizes that its position is weakened by its selective adherence to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) of which it is part, and its refusal to accept a ruling in 2016 by the Permanent Court of Arbitration in favor of the Philippines regarding the Scarborough Shoal, a triangular group of reefs and rocks off the coast of the Philippines. The events have also led to tensions with other countries, including Japan, Australia and the US. In fact, the American navy destroyer U.S.S. John McCain, which collided with a tanker off Singapore on August 21st, 2017, was returning from a ‘freedom of navigation’ mission in South China Sea sailing through international waters that China claims. This has led Beijing to believe that there is a US-led anti-Chinese coalition being built involving its Southeast Asian neighbors, as well as Japan, Australia and India.

Tom Miller ends his excellent book with a brief but powerful 10-page conclusion that both acknowledges China’s rightful concerns and its need to “start acting like a great power” (p. 239) given the size of its population and economy, as well as recognizes the challenges that the country itself and the region as a whole face. President Xi’s “proactive” foreign policy in Asia, he writes, “offers a straightforward deal: China will deliver trade, investment and other economic goodies to all partners that accommodate – or, at the very least, do not challenge – its core interests” (p. 240). China’s persuasive power comes from the economic incentives it can provide. It faces questions of trust with its Asian neighbors and partners, especially those that have disputes or historical reasons to distrust China. Also in newly democratic countries, like Myanmar and Sri Lanka, where China is associated with support to previous suppressive regimes, there will be challenges.

However, as Miller, states, “the reality is that China will become a much more visible presence in Asia in the coming decades” (p. 242). And as Chinese nationals and firms spread across the region and the world, President Xi has sworn to protect nationals abroad, using military force if necessary (p. 243). These factors risk blowing up in the future. Still, despite a certain militarization, China has thus far emphasized trade, commercial interests and economic growth, rather than political or geographical expansion (notwithstanding its occupation of Tibet and claims to Taiwan as a rogue province). In President Xi’s words: “We Chinese love peace … No matter how much stronger it may become, China will never seek hegemony or expansion” (p. 245). Miller sees China’s determination to gain control of the region as quite rational and something that the US and regional powers must accept. He finishes the book with the following passage (p. 248):

“It is hardly my place to prescribe how the US and China should avoid war. I do believe, however, that the US and its regional allies must accept China’s determination to carve out its own sphere of influence across Asia. And having accepted the inevitability of China’s rise, the safest course of action is to accommodate it within a remodeled regional security structure. Whether China would accept such an accommodation is another question, and much will depend on the relative strengths of both sides in the decades to come. But as China pursues its vision of national rejuvenation, something has to give. If it does not, the “Chinese dream” might tragically morph into an Asian nightmare.”

Tom Miller has written a very fine book on a topic that is one of the most important developments in the world today. His writing is smooth and entertaining, while he combines historical and political analysis with reporting from the frontlines. Everyone interested in security and development in Asia and the world would benefit from reading this book.

References:

Hayton, Bill (2014). The South China Sea: The Struggle for Power in Asia. New Haven and London: Yale University Press.

Kaplan, Robert D. (2015). Asia’s Cauldron: The South China Sea and the End of a Stable Pacific. New York: Random House.

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The South China Sea: The Struggle for Power in Asia by Bill Hayton
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Bill Hayton has written an important book about a world hotspot that receives far too little attention in the United States and Europe now obsessed with Islamic terrorism, the refugee crisis and the mess in the Middle East. In the meantime, the South China Sea region continues to grow importance as a global economic powerhouse, while tensions mount between the increasingly aggressive China and its neighbors. The importance of South China Sea goes far beyond the region. For example, US$5.3 trillion of trade passes through the South China Sea, according to the Council on Foreign Relations (Armed Clash in the South China Sea). Of this, U.S. trade accounts for US1.2 trillion. According to security expert Robert D. Kaplan, almost 60% of Japan’s and Taiwan’s and 80% of China’s crude oil imports are also transported through the relatively narrow sea lanes in the region. As China flexes its political and military muscles in order to secure the mineral and other resources in the South China Sea to itself, it is imperative for the rest of the world to ensure that the international waters in the area remain open for navigation. Hence the Obama administration’s “pivot to Asia” when Hillary Clinton was the Secretary of State.

South China Sea directly borders a large number countries, including China, Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Brunei, the Philippines, and the Republic of China (Taiwan). In addition, countries like Japan have an important stake in the sea. As a semi-enclosed sea, there is considerable scope for overlapping claims for territorial waters in the area. China has unilaterally established a “nine-dashed line” – known as the “cow’s tongue” – that usurps most of South China Sea to the big brother in the region. In 2009, the Chinese government attached a map of this “U-shaped line” to its submission to the United Nations Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf. At stake are island groups, such as the Paracels (claimed by China, Taiwan and Vietnam) and the Spratly Islands (disputed by Brunei, China, Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan and Vietnam), and their presumed resources, from oil and minerals to fishing. In 2013, the Philippines brought the case under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) to the International Court of Justice, which in June 2016 ruled in the Philippines’ favor on seven of the aspects in the case (stating that in other seven submissions it was not able to provide a ruling). Needless to say, China has not accepted the ruling. Hayton in his book gives extensive background to the disputes and China’s attempts to use both the notion of territorial waters under UNCLOS as well as historical arguments to justify its claims to most of the sea area.

In the first lengthy chapter, ‘Wrecks and Wrongs: Prehistory to 1500’, Hayton provides a comprehensive historical overview of the waxing and waning empires – including the Champa, Angkor and Srivijaya – in the South China Sea area and the importance of the Nusantao Maritime Trading and Communication Network (using the term coined by the archeologist Wilhem Solheim). This analysis convincingly refutes the notion of any single nation having unique historical claims to the sea. In the following chapter, ‘Maps and Lines: 1500 to 1948’, the book moves on to the era when the European colonial powers played a significant role in the region, until the times in the 1930s when the Chinese government turned to map-making in trying to exert its control over the region. Hayton demonstrates how new Chinese names were invented for many of the islands and reefs, sometimes just translating the names that the French and the British had given to them (like in the case of North Danger Reef in Spratly Islands, which was simply translated into Bei xian), to give legitimacy to the historical claims. The French geographer, François-Xavier Bonnet has also shown how China has planted archaeological evidence on the islands in the South China Sea to bolster its territorial claims (Archeology and Patriotism: Long Term Chinese Strategies in the South China Sea, 2015). Following Mao’s revolution, the Communists adopted the policies and maps of the predecessor government.

China, however, has not been the only regional actor trying to ensure access to South China Sea and its resources. Others, not least Vietnam and the Philippines, have been active, too, sometimes using inventive tactics to expand their control. For example, both countries established garrisons on deserted islands in the North Spratly Islands trying to outmaneuver each other. Despite earlier conflicts, these garrisons are now on speaking terms and have even organized football and basketball matches between themselves. One of the core strategies of all the actors has been to try to establish a permanent foothold on uninhabited (and often uninhabitable) islands or mere rocks, so as to be able to claim territorial waters around them. Hayton gives detailed and interesting accounts of these efforts. Placing permanent structures and settlements for military personnel unfortunate enough to be posted in these hostile environments is hard when a rock is unable to support food production or is part of the year submerged under water. These claims can’t be accepted under international law, but it hasn’t stopped China and others from establishing bases on them. This strategy may be dissolved in water when rising sea levels due to global warming fully submerge the geological formations.

Among the key actors in the fray have, naturally, been many energy companies hoping for a bonanza on the hydrocarbons supposedly lying under the South China Sea. The extent of these, as well as the technical and economic feasibility of extracting them, is still somewhat unknown. Still multinationals, such as BP and ExxonMobil (and many of their subsidiaries, some established just for this purpose), as well as national energy companies like the Sinopec (China Petroleum & Chemical Corporation) have entered the geopolitical game as active players. Surely the Secretary of State nominee, ExxonMobil CEO Rex Tillerson, will be able to advice the incoming President Trump on the intricacies of the situation.

In the sixth chapter, ‘Drums and Symbols: Nationalism’, Hayton discusses how the countries in the region have used sovereignty issues around South China Sea to boost nationalistic sentiments, often to divert attention from domestic problems. Equally obviously, all countries in the basin, as well as outside, such as the United States, use political carrots and sticks to convince others, including those in the ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), to support their position. China’s diplomacy, which alternates between economic incentives and military threats, is especially powerful in this regard. Towards the end of the book, chapter 8 focuses on ‘Shaping the Battlefield: Military Matters’, outlining the military buildup in the region, as well as the role of the United States armed forces providing security guarantees to its allies, notably Taiwan, but also others.

Last but not at all least, the South China Sea is significant in terms of its environment. Apart from fisheries, Hayton does not spend much time discussing environmental issues. The fishing issue is big enough in itself, given that the 500 million or so, largely poor, people living on the shores of South China Sea depend on fish for their protein. In the last chapter 9, ‘Cooperation and Its Opposites: Resolving the Disputes’, Hayton discusses the declining yields caused by overfishing and development in the sea. There has been a steady increase in the number of fishing operators (from 584,000 in 1980 to 1.8 million in 2002) and the fishing fleets’ power, size and ability to operate far offshore has equally increased. Over the same period, the average catch of a small inshore fisherman has fallen from 20 kg to 2 kg, which barely allows for subsistence. Again, China is the biggest culprit and as its fishing boats have ventured further away, this has led to clashes with other nations’ coast guards. Recognizing the problem, China has attempted to establish periodic fishing bans to allow for the fish stocks to recuperate, but this is not enough. A better solution would be to establish permanent marine protected areas, but this obviously requires agreement and cooperation by all countries in the region.

Apart from the fisheries, the South China Sea basin is a repository of globally significant ecosystems and biodiversity in mangroves, seagrass beds and the like. These are threatened by coastal development, extensive aquaculture, land-based sources of pollution and many other human-induced stresses. The project, ‘Reversing Environmental Degradation Trends in the South China Sea and Gulf of Thailand’, funded by the organization that I work for, Global Environment Facility, and implemented by the UN Environment Programme, is a major effort to fight these trends – and it was the first regional program of its kind in which China agreed to participate. I was delighted to see the program getting mention in Hayton’s book.

The South China Sea by Bill Hayton is a good complement to Robert D. Kaplan’s fine 2014 book Asia’s Cauldron: The South China Sea and the End of a Stable Pacific. In fact, where Kaplan focuses on military and security issues (while giving geography and politics fair coverage), Hayton’s approach is broader. Especially the historical chapters are amongst the best in the book, bringing new information in a consolidated form and putting the current issues in perspective.

South China Sea is an area with high risk for conflict, even if a shooting war between China and the U.S. would be unlikely. Just earlier this month, a Chinese navy ship intercepted and confiscated a U.S. submarine drone in international waters causing tensions between the two countries. Lynn Kuok, in an opinion piece published by the Brookings Institution this month, advises the incoming administration about the importance of the region for US and global strategic interests (“America first” cannot mean “America alone”: Engaging Southeast Asia). If the US withdraws from the TPP (Trans Pacific Partnership), ignores ASEAN, and waffles on its interests and commitments in the region, this will only benefit China as the hegemon of the region. Others, like Susan Shirk, head of the China policy center at the University of California San Diego, have argued that the US interests in the South China Sea are limited (see China’s Great Leap Backward by James Fallows in The Atlantic). Then again, as Kuok wrote in June 2016, “The South China Sea dispute is about much more than mere ‘rocks.’ It concerns maritime rights and the preservation of the system of international law. More broadly, how the United States and China interact in the South China Sea has important implications of their relationship elsewhere and on other issues” (The U.S. FON Program in the South China Sea).

In my opinion, the South China Sea issues are so important for regional stability, freedom of navigation, food security, and the global environment, that they deserve the full attention of the world at large.


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