Last weekend I had the pleasure of being invited to the 7th IISS Asia Security Summit in Singapore. I say pleasure, because as a one-time conference whore turned political commentator, the Shangri-La Dialogue is, in many ways, my Sundance Film Festival (in which case Davos would undeniably be Cannes).
I am not easily star-struck, but when face to face with the likes of US Defence Secretary Robert Gates and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Admiral Michael Mullen, when you're in the same room with China's Lt-Gen Ma Xiaotian of the People's Liberation Army, you can't help but be deferential, if only because of the sheer military might over which these gentlemen preside.
04 June 2008: New Straits Times
By Umapagan Ampikaipakan
AS the taxi pulled into the fortress that was now the Shangri-La Hotel on Singapore's Orange Grove Road, we were waved through by armed policemen to a security check-point, driving past the Gurkhas and their automatic weapons, to a hotel lobby that resembled an airport departure lounge, with its metal detectors and X-ray machines. The taxi driver, always a source of great wisdom, turns to me and says, "no one trusts anyone any more". A sentiment which, in essence, was what this summit was about.
Now there are summits, and then there are summits.
Last weekend I had the pleasure of being invited to the 7th IISS Asia Security Summit in Singapore. I say pleasure, because as a one-time conference whore turned political commentator, the Shangri-La Dialogue is, in many ways, my Sundance Film Festival (in which case Davos would undeniably be Cannes).
I am not easily star-struck, but when face to face with the likes of US Defence Secretary Robert Gates and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Admiral Michael Mullen, when you're in the same room with China's Lt-Gen Ma Xiaotian of the People's Liberation Army, you can't help but be deferential, if only because of the sheer military might over which these gentlemen preside.
They are the Spielbergs and Clooneys of military power (a comparison I guarantee you've never heard, and are unlikely to ever hear, again).
With close to 300 delegates in contingents from 27 countries, the Shangri-La Dialogue, in just seven years, has become widely accepted as the security summit for Asia and the Pacific. It is the ultimate boys club, where men in power suits talk about missile defence and nuclear non-proliferation; about securing energy resources and restoring peace in complex emergencies.
It is where those who command the instruments that could destroy us all get together and engage in diplomatic discourse. It is the conduct of statecraft by those usually called upon to manage its failure; where, for two whole days, policy makers discuss policy without the usual logorrhea that takes place during events like this one.
These are, for the most part, serious people, doing serious work. But even more than that, they are the people trying to build and restore trust in a world gone to hell in a hand-basket.
While the summit itself was all-encompassing on issues concerning defence and security in the Asia Pacific, for me the most important questions involved two things. The first being America's message to Asia, and the second being Myanmar.
From the very first pre-summit press conference with Senator Joseph Lieberman to Secretary Robert Gates' address the next morning, their message was simple and direct.
In his comments, Senator Lieberman stated that America remains a responsible stakeholder in this region and the international system. Quoting from an op-ed article he co-wrote with Senator John McCain, Lieberman added that: "American power does not mean we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. On the contrary, our position in Asia has been strongest when we have listened to our friends, and when we have worked not only to persuade them we are right, but been willing to be persuaded that they are right."
While many perceived the United States as being distracted from Asia by its entanglements in Afghanistan and the Middle East, Lieberman insisted that this was not the case. Speaking in his capacity as a senior member of the Senate Arms Services Committee, the senator said to "expect more, not less, attention, investment, and co-operation from the United States government", regardless of which party is in power come January.
A sentiment that was further reflected by Gates' speech where he dismissed any speculation about the United States losing interest in Asia as "either preposterous or disingenuous or both". He emphasised that "the United States is a Pacific nation with an enduring role in Asia".
That they welcomed Asia's rise, and that their "continued presence in this part of the world has been an essential element enabling this rise - opening doors, protecting and preserving common spaces on the high seas, in space, and more and more in the cyber world".
One senior defence official travelling with Gates later told me that "all countries in Asia, large or small, gain from a focused American involvement", and that it had "a stabilising effect".
It would be easy to liken America's message to that of an attention-seeking child, jumping up and down and screaming, "I'm here! I'm here! Look at me!" I, however, felt the message carried a more reassuring tone. Like that of a parent or a guardian. Of someone that has always been there, of someone we thought we had outgrown.
Recently, we in Asia have been somewhat caught up by the rise of India and China, so much so we had forgotten that such things are by no means zero-sum equations. Political and economic hegemonies are not a realistic consequence of this rise. And as we become more and more reliant on one another, the only likely endgame is one of interdependence. It avoids unnecessary competition, it prevents wars, and the sooner we wise up to this fact, the more stable and secure our respective environments will be.
Which brings me to the unavoidable elephant in the room. The overarching issue that seemed to dominate every discussion, from the casual coffee-break conversations to the private luncheon with defence officials.
I had asked Gates about Myanmar during a small press roundtable on Sunday morning. What now? With the limited success that the US, the UN and Asean have had in engaging Myanmar's military junta, where do we go from here? He said that "unless the regime changes its approach, changes its policy, more people will die".
Gates stopped short of calling the government's actions as being tantamount to genocide, adding instead that it was more akin to "criminal neglect".
The only other alternative would be the forced distribution of aid to Myanmar, something that minister after minister had drawn a line at using.
When asked about why there was such universal agreement that aid should not be imposed, Gates responded by saying that "there is great sensitivity to violating a country's sovereignty, without some kind of UN umbrella that would authorise it".
There has been a lot of attention focused on the United States for not being able to engage with Myanmar's military junta. They are an easy target. I for one agree that the United States had already exercised its moral obligation "above and beyond the call".
America has been unswerving in its ideology concerning aid. Its response has always been immediate and effective, be it after the Asian tsunami or the cyclone in Bangladesh. Because "when your neighbour's house is on fire, one does not haggle over the price to put it out". But as the Essex and other aid vessels continue to "steam around in circles", it is becoming increasingly clear that their efforts are frustrated.
But through all of this, we seem to have overlooked the bigger question: What does this mean for Asean? What are the implications for Asean and its relationship with one of its member states, if no one engaging with the regime is able to change their minds?
What is the virtue of non-interference when faced with the deaths of hundreds of thousands? How can we stand idly by and let our neighbours, our friends, our brothers, engage in such self-destructive behaviour?
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