Asia's Regional Architecture: Alliances and Institutions in the Pacific Century 9781503608801

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Asia’s Regional Architecture

Studies in Asian Security series editors Amitav Acharya, Chief Editor American University

David Leheny, Chief Editor Waseda University

Alastair Iain Johnston Harvard University

Randall Schweller The Ohio State University

international board Rajesh M. Basrur Nanyang Technological University

Brian L. Job University of British Columbia

Barry Buzan London School of Economics

Miles Kahler University of California, San Diego

Victor D. Cha Georgetown University

Peter J. Katzenstein Cornell University

Thomas J. Christensen Princeton University

Khong Yuen Foong Oxford University

Stephen P. Cohen The Brookings Institution

Byung-Kook Kim Korea University

Chu Yun-han Academia Sinica

Michael Mastanduno Dartmouth College

Rosemary Foot University of Oxford

Mike Mochizuki The George Washington University

Aaron L. Friedberg Princeton University

Katherine H. S. Moon Wellesley College

Sumit Ganguly Indiana University, Bloomington

Qin Yaqing China Foreign Affairs University

Avery Goldstein University of Pennsylvania

Christian Reus-Smit Australian National University

Michael J. Green Georgetown University

Etel Solingen University of California, Irvine

Stephan M. Haggard University of California, San Diego

Varun Sahni Jawaharlal Nehru University

G. John Ikenberry Princeton University

Rizal Sukma CSIS, Jakarta

Takashi Inoguchi Chuo University

Wu Xinbo Fudan University

Asia’s Regional Architecture alliances and institutions in the pacific century

Andrew Yeo

stanford university press Stanford, California

Stanford University Press Stanford, California © 2019 by the Board of Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system without the prior written permission of Stanford University Press. Printed in the United States of America on acid-free, archival-quality paper Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Yeo, Andrew, 1978 – author. Title: Asia’s regional architecture : alliances and institutions in the Pacific century / Andrew Yeo. Description: Stanford, California : Stanford University Press, 2019. | Series: Studies in Asian security | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2018033660 (print) | LCCN 2018036272 (ebook) | ISBN 9781503608801 (electronic) | ISBN 9781503608443 (cloth : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: East Asia—Foreign relations. | Regionalism (International ­organization) | East Asia—Politics and government—1945 – Classification: LCC JZ1720 (ebook) | LCC JZ1720 .Y46 2019 (print) | DDC 327.5 — dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018033660 Designed by Bruce Lundquist. Typeset by by Newgen in 10/13.5 Cover design by Robert Ehle. Cover photo: Ships and submarines participating in RIMPAC exercise 2012, in ­formation in the waters around the Hawaiian islands. MCC Keith DeVinney, US Indo-Pacific Command.

For Yoon

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Contents

Figures and Tables Preface Acknowledgments 1 Asia’s Regional Architecture: A Historical-Institutional Perspective

ix xi xiii 1

2 Bilateralism, Multilateralism, and the Making of an Alliance Consensus

25

3 Change and Continuity: 1989 –1997

57

4 Rising Regionalism: 1998 –2007

83

5 Complex Patchwork: 2008 –2017

117

6 America First, China’s Rise, and Regional Order

149

7 Conclusion: Theory, Policy, and the Relevance of Historical Institutionalism in Asia

172

Abbreviations Notes Index

185 189 233

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Figures and Tables

figures 1.1 Heuristic of the complex patchwork in Asia

9

1.2 Process of institutional layering in Asia

19

4.1 Japan’s trade with the US, China, and ASEAN

88

4.2 South Korea’s trade with the US, China, and ASEAN

89

4.3 Chinese foreign labor in Japan and South Korea, 2000 –2009

90

5.1 Number of CJK intergovernmental meetings, 1999 –2015

140

5.2 Free-trade agreements by status

142

tables 4.1 Toyota Motor Company production affiliates in Asia

86

4.2 Interregional export of goods as percentage of global trade

88

4.3 Selected post–Cold War regional institutions in Asia (track I only)

93

5.1 Track I trilateral meetings

135

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Preface

Policy makers in Asia and beyond have endeavored to create a set of rules, norms, and institutions to build confidence, facilitate cooperation, improve governance, and ultimately provide peace and order to the region. Yet despite the rhetoric of Asian regionalism, the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture has been tough slogging. Nationalism and deep-seated mistrust frequently derail forward progress on regional integration. China’s growing regional clout, America’s waning political leadership, and ASEAN’s apparent weakness all raise further doubts about the trajectory of Asia’s regional architecture. Nevertheless, if one examines the development of Asia’s institutional architecture from the postwar period to the present, most would agree that the region is better off today relative to the past. The rise of multiple, overlapping institutions has helped create more space for communication and cooperation among regional actors, even if underlying tensions persist. As such, this book urges readers to think seriously about time. By adopting a strand of research in the social sciences known as historical institutionalism, I argue that decisions made by political actors at time present are often shaped by earlier institutional choices. In the context of Asia’s regional architecture, the choice of US-led bilateralism and the establishment of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) during the first half of the Cold War has had a profound impact on Asia’s institutional development in the post–Cold War period. These focal institutions “create relations and commitments with other actors and institutions,” and in the process, embed institutions by raising the costs of change.1 Such costs may be material, ideational, or cognitive in nature. Thus, states within the US-led hub-and-spokes

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system generally support US engagement in the region. Asian policy makers, principally those associated with ASEAN, insist on an informal, consensus-based approach to institution building. Influential actors (whether states or policy makers) with a large stake in maintaining preexisting institutions make it particularly difficult for other actors to replace said institutions. This is not to argue that institutions are static. After all, evolution is ultimately about change and adaptation rather than continuity. At critical moments, visionary policy makers in Asia have circumvented resistance to institution building by “layering” new institutions on top of existing ones. The process of layering has been aided by the informal nature of most post–Cold War Asian institutions, resulting in the rapid rise of a complex patchwork of institutions. Today, Asia’s regional architecture is characterized by overlapping institutions with newer regional initiatives existing in conjunction with older bilateral alliances and multilateral organizations. Whether this complex patchwork leads to improved governance or greater competition (or perhaps both) remains to be seen. At stake is the future of Asian regional order. Washington, DC July 2018

Acknowledgments

The successful completion of this nearly decade-long book project required the support of many people and institutions. At the outset, I am deeply grateful to David Leheny who not only took an interest in the manuscript for the Asian security book series but also provided sound guidance and feedback that ultimately made this a much better book. Thank you, Dave, for being an advocate and for all your constructive feedback throughout the review process. I must also thank my editor, Leah Pennywark, for shepherding me through the book publication process. In addition, I received assistance from Gigi Mark, Charlie Clark, Katharine Faydash, and Stephanie Adams during the production, copyediting, and marketing phase of this project and thank them for helping me cross the finish line. I am happy that my book found a perfect home at Stanford University Press. This book initially began as a small research project in 2010 supported by the East Asia Institute’s (EAI) Fellows Program on Peace, Governance, and Development. Under the fellowship guidelines, I cobbled together a proposal on Northeast Asian regionalism, a topic that deviated significantly from my first book on anti-US-base protests. Finding something new to say in an already-crowded field was challenging, but the EAI fellowship provided me the opportunity to vet my early ideas about historical institutionalism and regional architecture to experts in China, Japan, and South Korea in 2011. I thank EAI, and its then president SookJong Lee, for providing the seeds to this project. Time was not only important to the book’s theoretical argument but essential to the completion of this project. I am grateful to the Earhart Foundation, and especially Montgomery Brown, then the director of programs, for grants awarded

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in 2012 and in 2014. The two grants allowed for course-teaching reductions in the semesters at the start of writing and toward the completion of the book’s first draft. At my home institution, The Catholic University of America, I am also grateful to the former dean of the School of Arts and Sciences Larry Poos, and the former provost James Brennan, for allowing me to take a sabbatical leave in fall 2014 to work on the manuscript. Several friends and colleagues provided comments on various chapters to the book or earlier drafts that were eventually incorporated into the final manuscript. This group includes Ian Chong, Chaesung Chun, Chris Darnton, Ariya Hagh, Van Jackson, Peter Katzenstein, Kei Koga, David Leheny, Jiyoung Lee, Oriana Mastro, Kate McNamara, Dani Nedal, Stephanie Hofmann, Abraham Newman, Adam Sheingate, and Yoshihide Soeya. I also thank two anonymous reviewers from Stanford University Press for their insightful comments to the book manuscript. Earlier iterations of this book project benefited from feedback provided by seminar participants at Georgetown University, George Mason University, Johns Hopkins University, Keio University, the Asiatic Research Institute (ARI) at Korea University, Fudan University, and Peking University. I received research assistance from numerous associates and even made a few new friends during my short field trips abroad. There are too many people to name, but I want to thank Gopika Gopalakrishnan, the information manager at the APEC Secretariat; Kimmy Xing at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies; Rui Matsukawa, deputy secretary-general of the Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat; and Dong Wang at Peking University. Additionally, I would like to acknowledge several research assistants who helped me at various stages of the project over the past decade. They include Aoqi Wu, Nicholas Hamisevicz, Vanessa Lau, Daniel Petri, and Habtamu Zelelew. Thank you for all your assistance with data collection. Conversations with students in my graduate Asian Security seminars (POL 638 and CPOL 555) and undergraduate East Asian international relations courses (POL 436) over the years have also helped me formulate and better articulate my own ideas about the region. Thank you to all my former and current students for keeping me on my toes. Although I completed the first full draft of the manuscript in April 2015, it took another three years of patience, labor, and waiting to deliver the final manuscript with the right publisher. Fortunately, scholarship is a social endeavor, and I feel blessed to have had family, friends, and colleagues providing support and encouragement to help me get through the long periods of waiting. My col-

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laborators and good friends Stephanie Hofmann, Sandra Fahy, Danielle Chubb, Will Waldorf, Matt Green, and Chris Darnton were gracious to put up with my complaints about the sometimes-capricious nature of academic publishing and the peer-review process. I also have my church small-group friends to thank for their encouragement during the waiting process, but especially Ryan Kwok, who followed (or ran with) me on this project during our predawn morning runs and prayer time. I want to personally thank two mentors who provided sage advice and remained in my corner in what seemed like a twelve-round bout with publishers. Behind the scenes, I know Victor Cha gave his support to the project. Readers may recognize that the idea of the “complex patchwork” derives from Victor’s earlier work. Despite his busy schedule, Victor has also helped me navigate between the academic and policy worlds in Washington, DC. He and his West Coast sidekick, Dave Kang, have been particularly supportive in raising the next generation of scholars doing work on Korea and Asia. I hope to pay them back by paying it forward to scholars now following behind me. I must also thank my longtime mentor from graduate school, Peter Katzenstein (although Peter may not find it that long given the list of people ahead of me who also have the honor of calling Peter their mentor). More important than his feedback on the book’s theory chapter, or his sage counsel in helping me navigate the publication process, was the intellectual foundation he helped lay in me as a scholar—probably more so with this project than with my PhD dissertation. Intellectual debts appear in indirect and subconscious ways. In my second year into this project, I began seeing connections between Peter’s earlier work on domestic structures and political economy and my understanding of institutional change and stability. Peter himself has written extensively on East Asian regionalism. However, my intellectual debt to Peter is not linked to this body of work. Rather, it is manifest in the strong affinity I discovered between constructivism and historical institutionalism. Only in hindsight, as is often the case, do I now see how my graduate training influences the way I think about the social world. Thank you again, Peter, for imparting your wisdom. A lot has happened on the home front during the course of this book project. Most notably, the size of my family doubled from two to four. Research for this book began a few months before the birth of our son, Joshua (now seven), and writing commenced after the arrival of our daughter, Joyce (now five). Research and writing in the presence of two small children is never an easy task, but the burden was significantly lightened with help from parents, in-laws, and our nanny, Severina Bunayog. I want to thank my parents, who made the trek from

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Ohio on several occasions (before they moved closer to us) when my wife traveled overseas for her work, and my in-laws, who bore the brunt of housework when visiting from South Korea, giving me a little extra time to write. Finally, I could not have completed this book without the physical, mental, moral, and spiritual support of my wife, Yoon Cho. Only Yoon knows the full joy (and agony) this book has brought, so I dedicate it to her. Balancing work and family is never easy, but walking together with her on this journey has made it worthwhile.

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Asia’s Regional Architecture A Historical-Institutional Perspective

On the night of November 8, 2016, most Americans anxiously awaited the results of the US presidential election as the media reported incoming electoral votes from each state. Contradicting virtually every national opinion poll, in an unexpected twist, Republican candidate Donald J. Trump pulled ahead of his Democratic rival, former US secretary of state Hillary Rodham Clinton, to become president of the United States. The 2016 election results not only caught the American people by surprise, raising questions about future policies under a Trump administration, but also left foreign governments wondering what implications a Trump presidency might have on global order and regional governance. This was particularly true in Asia, where the United States had cultivated long-standing alliance partnerships with countries such as Japan, South Korea, Australia, and the Philippines. In addition to bilateral alliances, for eight years, Trump’s predecessor Barack Obama had also promoted greater multilateralism in the region as a major diplomatic component of his administration’s “pivot” to Asia. Allies, strategic partners, and rival competitors of the United States anticipated that the pivot would continue, albeit under a Clinton presidency. After all, it was Clinton, as secretary of state, who advocated, and ultimately implemented the strategic rebalance to Asia. Rather than reinforce Asia’s existing institutional order underpinned by a growing network of bilateral and multilateral ties, President Trump instead has questioned long-standing US alliances. During his campaign, Trump labeled close allies such as Japan and South Korea as free riders and threatened to withdraw US forces from host countries unless they increased their share of the burden in the

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alliance. Additionally, key players on Trump’s foreign policy team have treated multilateral institutions with disdain, leaving questions about the administration’s attitude toward a large number of multilateral forums, dialogues, and institutions operating in Asia and elsewhere. On the economic front, Trump made good on one of his campaign pledges shortly after his inauguration by withdrawing US participation from the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), a multilateral free-trade agreement involving eleven other countries in the Pacific region. The uncertainty of US leadership in Asia, coupled with China’s regional ambitions and unresolved historical and political tensions in East Asia, have led to looming questions, if not anxiety, about the future of Asia’s regional order. A book about Asia’s regional architecture, the durability of bilateral alliances, and the rise of multilateral institutions would have resonated well under a US administration with a more traditional liberal internationalist outlook. Ironically, however, the rise of Trump and, more significantly, broader concerns about the potential retreat of the liberal international (and institutional) order in the wake of populist movements around the globe have made this book much more urgent and timely. Those who are worried about the future direction of US policy in Asia may even be reassured by this book’s central argument: that institutions are often more powerful and resilient than the whims of any individual leader. Such a statement by no means marginalizes the importance of influential world leaders, including the US president. However, individual choice and agency are framed within a larger temporal and historical context, making it difficult for new actors to reverse existing ideas and institutions which continue to represent the core interests and values of states. Thus, in contrast to the inconsistent signals regarding Asia policy from the Trump administration, Asia’s regional architecture should reflect greater stability and continuity than perhaps recent political commentators have assumed. Continuity and stability, however, should not be mistaken for certainty, particularly in a region riddled with contradictions as Asia. For instance, in a short op-ed on the future of Asia, Council on Foreign Relations president Richard Haas claimed that two “very different Asian centuries” loomed ahead.1 The first future promises robust levels of growth and the avoidance of conflict with neighbors. For more than twenty years, regional optimists have pointed to signs of growing East Asian cooperation supported by data on intraregional trends in trade, finance, production network flows, travel, and pop-culture diffusion.2 The rise of an East Asian political community, though moving in fits and starts, has been in the making since the end of the Cold War. The second future, in contrast, reveals an Asia rife with mistrust, nationalist passions, and spiraling arms races. Regional pessimists have highlighted historical

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antagonism, increasing nationalism, uneven power balances, and weak institutions as signs of greater fragmentation and troubled times for the region. Of course, these two different caricatures of Asia, though falling on different ends of the spectrum, are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Both can be valid depending on which factors and theoretical perspective one wishes to highlight. Regardless of where one falls on this spectrum, though, the future of Asian regional order—that is, the patterns of interaction between state actors—requires thinking more seriously about Asia’s regional architecture—the overarching institutional framework(s) that provide actors with governance structures that help shape order. While power and identity matter greatly in Asian international relations, the focus of this book is on institutions. The international relations literature defines institutions broadly as a durable set of rules and practices that shape expectations, interests, and behavior.3 In keeping with more common usage of the term, however, I follow a definition offered by practitioners that treat institutions as “arrangements and organizations, ranging from ad hoc and informal forums that lack an organizational core to formal standing bodies that serve a particular purpose.”4 This book is about the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture. Adopting a historical institutional framework, it explores the layering of US bilateral alliances and multilateral institutions from the post–World War II period (henceforth postwar) to the present, subsequently leading to the complex patchwork regional architecture that exists today. The scope of my argument primarily covers East Asia, with an emphasis on security and economic relations.5 However, countries included in the broader Asia-Pacific, such as Australia, Canada, India, and New Zealand, are also discussed. While international relations scholars and Asian experts have given much attention to topics such as China’s rise, the US strategic rebalance to Asia, and East Asian economic integration in recent years, something remarkable has occurred with little fanfare in the past twenty-five years. Considered severely underinstitutionalized at the end of the Cold War, Asia’s regional architecture is now characterized by a hodgepodge of overlapping bilateral, trilateral, mini-lateral, and multilateral institutions.6 How did this happen? Why should we care? And what does this mean for regional order and governance in the “Pacific century”? At stake are questions of change and continuity in the region and whether efforts at institutional design actually matter for regional order. For regional optimists, particularly constructivist scholars and Asian policy makers who have rallied behind the Association of Southeast Asian Nations’ (ASEAN) mode of institution building, the answer is resoundingly yes. An emerging multilateral regional architecture is both an enabler and a measureable outcome of a growing

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East Asian community. Yet as ongoing maritime disputes in the South China Sea attest, growing economic interdependence and multilateral efforts have not necessarily led to more peace in the region. Despite the weakness of regional institutions, the demand for new ones continues to grow. Even realist policy makers, while not placing much faith in multilateral institutions, continue to promote bilateral alliances and other intra-alliance networks (e.g., Australia and Japan; US, Japan, and South Korea) as a means of ensuring national security and regional stability. Whether through bilateralism or multilateralism, then, scholars and policy makers generally agree that institutional structures shape how state actors organize and respond to security and economic challenges. How the regional architecture unfolds, therefore, matters greatly for Asia’s future. The literature on Asia’s regional architecture tends to produce a dichotomy between bilateralism and multilateralism in Asia.7 Fortunately, more ­scholars today recognize the two institutional frameworks as complementary rather than contradictory. The more relevant question is the interplay of bilateral and multilateral institutions and the ways old and new institutions are layered and ­integrated. This layered pattern of regional architecture has also attracted significant attention from experts studying other regions of the world. Europe, Latin America, and Africa have also experienced institutional overlap and increasing regime complexity (i.e., the presence of several overlapping or nested institutions that address a particular issue) in their respective regional architectures.8 Whether regime complexity helps actors surmount traditional power politics and promote regional governance is therefore a question not only for Asia but also a larger comparative one.

The Argument in Brief How do we explain the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture? Stated differently, how do we explain the robustness of US bilateral alliances with the rapid proliferation of multilateral institutions in the region? Social scientists, especially international relations scholars, tend to look first at the external environment for clues to change: shifts in the distribution of power, an increase or decrease in external threats, a rise in economic interdependence. What I propose, however, is a theory that takes into account endogenous change and continuity. Why? Because the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture is not just a story of change derived from external sources or exogenous shocks, although they, too, play an important role. The word evolution suggests slow-moving, gradual change, which in turn implies not only processes of change, but continuity as well. Asia’s regional archi­

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tecture has undergone significant change over the past few decades. However, several institutional features remain intact from the Cold War. To understand the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture, we must therefore account for both change and continuity. To do this, I adopt insights from a strand of research in the social sciences known as historical institutionalism. Historical institutionalism is “a research tradition that examines how temporal processes and events influence the origin and transformation of institutions that govern political and economic relations.”9 For historical institutionalists, the timing and sequence of events are fundamental to institutional outcomes, as later events are conditioned by prior ones. This is in contrast to strict rationalist approaches that consider institutions to be largely the product of actors’ interests and preferences at present.10 According to historical institutionalists, choices made earlier in time generate self-reinforcing mechanisms that make it increasingly difficult for decision makers to diverge from a particular institutional path. Over time, actors adapt their behavior in ways that both reflect and reinforce preexisting institutional arrangements.11 In the context of Asia, postwar US planners initially chose to build bilateral alliances to contain the spread of communism and maximize control over Asian allies.12 Reinforced by domestic institutions and deep-seated beliefs about national security, bilateral alliances between the United States and Asia-Pacific countries such as Japan, South Korea, and Australia became entrenched over time. Political leaders adapted to the hub-and-spokes system. They relied on bilateral ties for regional stability and security, thus making it harder to simply do away with ­bilateralism. How do we explain change if bilateral alliances create self-reinforcing mechanisms that are difficult to overturn? External shocks such as war or financial crises are useful in describing periods of rapid institutional change. But as my research suggests, in post–Cold War Asia, both exogenous and endogenous processes facilitated institutional change. Although some actors may seek novel institutional arrangements to address new economic or security realities, they often lack the support or political power to replace existing institutions, which continue to provide positive returns. What ensues, then, is a process of institutional layering in which new institutions are built on top of existing ones.13 The hypothesis I examine suggests that the emerging institutional architecture in Asia is shaped by this layering process. Political elites in Asia, particularly those tied to the hub-and-spokes system (e.g., Philippines, Japan, South Korea), continue to rely on formal security ties to the United States. Given sunk costs, shared values, and the embedded nature of the US alliance in domestic national security structures, these elites are often reluctant or unwilling to supplant existing

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a­ lliances with multilateral institutions. Instead, new multilateral arrangements, often weak and informal, are created on top of existing institutions. This process of institutional layering has led to the formation of several informal institutions and multilateral organizations overlapping or working in conjunction with bilateral alliances. Rather than replacing bilateral alliances, multilateral arrangements such as the ASEAN Plus Three, East Asia Summit, Shangri-La Dialogue, and Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation have developed on top of or in conjunction with bilateralism. The outcome is akin to what Victor Cha and others have referred to as a complex patchwork: a regional architecture characterized by a variety of institutional arrangements including bilateral alliances, trilateral relationships, mini-lateral meetings, and multilateral forums.14 What does this argument add to our understanding of Asia and international relations more broadly, especially if others have observed similar patterns of overlapping institutions in Asia?15 Although others have described Asia’s changing institutional landscape from a functional, cultural, political economic, or geopolitical perspective,16 none of the existing theoretical arguments satisfactorily addresses “the challenge of explaining both change and continuity” within the regional architecture.17 Questions regarding the long-term development of Asia’s institutional architecture thus move us away from using conventional international relations paradigms and toward historical institutional analysis to understand change and continuity. Historical institutionalism is particularly well suited for examining “a high level of institutional continuity combined with a significant degree of institutional change,” or what Rixen and Viola refer to as the “dual empirical puzzle of institutional resilience and transformation.”18 In particular, this book pays attention to endogenous processes of change in Asia’s regional architecture. As Streeck and Thelen aptly state, rather than looking for “big changes in response to big shock, it is incremental change with [long-term] transformative results” that matters most.19

Defining Regional Architecture Scholars define and apply the concept of regional architecture in numerous ways. Lamenting the imprecision and multiple usages of the architecture metaphor, William Tow and Brendan Taylor argue that the concept has been used to describe “any or all patterns of regional security interaction without yielding any distinct or precise criteria or typologies.”20 Nor do current formulations of architecture explain “how and why those patterns evolve in certain ways.”21 Confusion is compounded by different usage and application of the architecture metaphor in Asia. Some scholars make reference to a distinct economic or security

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architecture.22 Others observe a single overarching regional structure encompassing both economic and security dimensions.23 More recently, scholars have begun to explore the “economic-security nexus,” examining the interactive effects of economic and security issues on regional building.24 Still others identify the existence of multiple or parallel architectures. For instance, David Shambaugh recognizes a bilateral security architecture underneath an emerging secondary multilateral architecture in Asia.25 Finally, problems arise as scholars use the concept of architecture interchangeably or in conjunction with other terms such as regional mechanisms, regional framework, regional institutions, and multilateralism.26 For example, Weixing Hu argues that regional architecture refers to a “set of regional institutions, mechanisms, and arrangements that together provide necessary functions for the region.”27 In short, regional architecture is defined in a variety of ways, making the concept elusive. To provide clarification, it may be useful to explain what “architecture” is and is not. In its everyday usage, architecture conjures images of blueprints and designs to construct houses, buildings, and other types of infrastructure. Architects are the ones who design buildings and often oversee their construction. In international relations, then, the architects are policy makers and the structures are institutions. Architecture therefore refers to an institutional framework that provides actors with structures for governance. By extension, regional architecture defines a region’s overarching institutional structure, thus providing a framework for regional governance. The framework may be constituted by several institutions rather than any single organization.28 Although architecture is treated here as an outcome, as suggested earlier, it is ultimately a means to an end; it is built by state policy makers in an effort to improve capacity for regional (or global) governance across a range of policy issues. Three distinct concepts—regional architecture, regionalism, and multilateralism—are frequently lumped together in the Asian international relations literature. The regional architecture is distinct from but related to regionalism in that the latter involves processes of institution building.29 More concretely, regionalism is rooted in institutional practices that produce a degree of interdependence among states within a geographic region. Regionalism is therefore a process that influences the development of a given region’s institutional architecture. Likewise, just as structure influences process, an existing architecture may constrain or facilitate particular paths of regionalism. The concept of regional architecture also differs from multilateralism,30 which merely represents one of several possible institutional structures driven by regional processes. Multilateralism is often treated as an ideal outcome or end product of regionalism.31 However,

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a­rchitectures come in a variety of forms, including bilateralism, trilateralism, or some combination of “nested” institutions.32 Architecture as a metaphor refers to the design and/or creation of structures. However, architects face several constraints when designing a region’s institutional blueprint. There are environmental constraints. There are also competing proposals from other architects whose input must be weighed. Finally, architects must work around existing structures or conform to preexisting patterns of design. An architect (or developer) hoping to design a modern high-rise condo on a street lined with Victorian-style houses will face stiff resistance from neighbors. Likewise, the development of a region’s institutional architecture is historically contingent and must take into account preexisting structures, a point often lost in discussions about rational institutional design (which I discuss later). Expanding on a definition used by Taylor and Tow,33 I define regional architecture as an overarching, comprehensive institutional structure within a geographic region that facilitates the coordination, governance, and resolution of a range of policy objectives of concern to states within that area. Although one may conceive of multiple architectures in a given region, I speak of Asia’s institutional architecture in much broader terms, both conceptually and geographically. In the following chapter, I argue that Asia’s regional architecture during the Cold War was dominated by a series of US-led hub-and-spokes bilateral alliances.34 Of course, not all countries in the region forged bilateral alliances with the United States. However, communist and non-aligned countries still had to contend with bilateral alliances and US presence in the region. Meanwhile, multilateral institutions such as the short-lived Southeast Asia Treaty Organization or the Association of Southeast Asian Nations remained weak. Hence the hub-and-spokes system, though not the only institutional framework in the region, functioned as an important structure organizing political, economic, and social relations between states both within and outside the system. If bilateralism defined the regional architecture during the Cold War period, an institutional structure for the post–Cold War period has become harder to pinpoint. Although Asian scholars acknowledge the growth of multilateralism since the end of the Cold War, in the near term it appears unlikely that a single institution will emerge as a dominant framework for Asia, much less for East Asia’s regional architecture. The heterogeneous nature of Asian states—wide disparities in levels of economic development, divergent political ideologies, and vast differences in geographic size—present obstacles for deeper integration and strong multilateralism. Threat perceptions and mistrust among several Asian countries, fueled as much by nationalism and historical antagonism as by differences in military capabilities, have also contributed to what Gilbert Rozman described as Asia’s “stunted regionalism.”35

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Yet despite such challenges, Asian policy makers appear keen on building greater multilateral cooperation and continue to tout the idea of a regional community. Regardless of one’s view on Asian regionalism, what can be argued with some degree of certainty is that the regional architecture is not evolving along any linear path toward multilateralism. In contrast to constructivist interpretations of regionalism—particularly studies centered on ASEAN—more recent scholarship has questioned the extent of Asian economic integration, much less the idea of an integrated regional community.36 What has emerged, instead, is a complex patchwork of partially overlapping institutions. Although the term regime complex is defined as “an array of partially overlapping and non-hierarchical institutions governing a particular issue-area,” the concept may also be apt in describing Asia’s regional architecture if “issue-area” is substituted for broader regional governance.37 Figure 1.1 illustrates what this complex patchwork looks like with a few representative institutions.

ARF EU, Mongolia, Pakistan, E. Timor India

N. Korea SPT

Australia

Taiwan Mexico, Hong Kong, Peru

S. Korea Russia

New Zealand

TCS Japan

US

China

Papua New Guinea, Chile, Canada

APEC Thailand

Philippines

Singapore, Vietnam, Indonesia, Brunei, Malaysia ASEAN

Laos, Burma, Cambodia

figure 1.1  Heuristic of the complex patchwork in Asia

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As Figure 1.1 reveals, the regional architecture is evolving toward greater institutional complexity rather than some teleological end point defined by an ­integrated, multilateral regional community. What are some reasons for this development?

Existing Arguments Although several explanations exist, I limit my discussion to two types of arguments. The first follows a realist logic in which actors engage in institutional competition and balancing behavior. States are in effect locked in a geopolitical competition for regional influence via institutions. The second argument focuses more narrowly on preferences and the rational design of institutions. Under conditions of divergent regional preferences, weak and partially nested, informal institutions become advantageous (or operate as a least common denominator) to a number of regional actors.

Geostrategic Competition Arguments related to institutional competition and institutional balancing follow a strong geostrategic logic. Under this perspective, the constellation of institutions in Asia merely reflects the balance of power. States vie with one another for regional influence by creating or promoting new institutions. Actors may exert their influence by including some member states and not others. For instance, the strong push by Japan to include India, Australia, and New Zealand in the East Asia Summit (EAS) was partly an attempt to dilute the influence of China. In recent years, the United States has also advanced its own favored institutional frameworks, including the East Asia Summit, and until the Trump administration, the TPP. Meanwhile, other major powers such as China and Russia have fostered what Ellen Frost refers to as “rival regionalism”—alternative regional groupings led by governments that remain opposed to the US-led regional order.38 Arguments based on great power rivalry and power balancing have gained appeal following Beijing’s launch of the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank and the Belt and Road Initiative to invest in major infrastructure projects spanning Eurasia. Both institutions are considered integral to China’s current and future grand strategy.39 In a slightly different argument, the political scientist Kai He explains Asia’s post–Cold War institutional landscape through a theory of institutional balancing.40 Under conditions of high economic interdependence, states rely on institutional balancing rather than traditional hard balancing to address extant threats. Major players such as China, Japan, and the United States thus create or join

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institutions as a way of checking or balancing potential threats or rivals. For example, He argues that “China’s strategic motive is to balance US primacy by upgrading the ASEAN Plus Three (APT) framework. However, the outcome of China’s balancing attempt depends on the strategic interactions among major players in the regional system.”41 In sum, the proliferation of multilateral institutions is ultimately an outgrowth of regional rivalries. The development of Asia’s institutional landscape is thus a product (or expansion) of geopolitical competition among major regional actors. States have certainly leveraged different multilateral institutions for their own geopolitical interests. However, it would be premature to assume that states join or build institutions primarily to balance rival states. Political leaders may genuinely support regional institutions to facilitate cooperation and mitigate tensions as opposed to treating institutions as merely a tool for balancing. For instance, even though the APT excludes the United States, China’s primary intent in joining the APT had more to do with strengthening financial cooperation and confidence building among East Asian countries than with diluting US regional influence (even though this may have been a beneficial secondary effect for Beijing). Furthermore, even if regional rivalries spurred the growth of new institutional arrangements, geostrategic arguments do not explain the layered or overlapping nature of regional institutions. Regional rivalries would suggest less overlap and much more fragmentation within Asia’s institutional architecture. Yet, to the contrary, there is a considerable degree of institutional overlap and complementariness across Asia’s institutional landscape.

Rational Design and Intentionality The development of Asia’s regional architecture reopens an important debate regarding institutional design. From a rational institutional perspective, the term design suggests both choice and intentionality. The design of a regional architecture therefore implies that policy makers intentionally build institutions to further enhance their own interests.42 For instance, following the 1997–1998 Asian financial crisis, East Asian policy makers convened to discuss how they might avert another crisis or better protect their markets through the implementation of new rules and institutional cooperation. A long-term blueprint for regional cooperation and governance was eventually drafted by the East Asian Vision Group, comprising “eminent persons” (i.e., scholars and policy makers) tasked with providing a road map for regional cooperation. These “architects” of regional institution building paid attention to issues of institutional design when crafting short and long-term policies to improve regional cooperation.43

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Although policy analysts believe that institutions can be designed to achieve greater regional integration, one may still question the extent to which ­intentionality precedes the design of regional institutions at the meso or macro level.44 For instance, if policy makers were asked to design at the outset an overarching institution facilitating regional cooperation in East Asia, would it look similar to the current “complex patchwork” that exists today? Probably not. Others have commented on the seemingly haphazard nature of Asia’s institutional development.45 To some, Asia’s institutional landscape appears as a mishmash of overlapping, partially redundant institutions, rather than anything that appears intentionally designed. Tension exists when the term evolution is injected into a theory of rational design. Evolution in certain respects is the antithesis to “design.”46 It implies something unintentional. It also reveals that designers are often constrained by forces beyond their control and thus lack the degree of freedom of action assumed by rational institutional design. As Friedrich Hayek suggests, evolutionary explanations of political order challenge the very notion of rational institutional design.47 This is not to argue that actors behave irrationally or without intention. Quite the contrary, actors are free to follow their preferences within the confines of their existing environment. Their actions are deliberate and intentional. However, at the macro level, an evolutionary approach suggests that larger and more enduring structures shape individual behavior, challenging notions of intentionality and rational design.48 Wendt argues that “the assumption that institutional designs are intended, therefore, is ambiguous about whether it refers to discrete changes made at each step of the way, or to the development over time of the overall structure.”49 As such, the intentionality of microdecisions should not be conflated with the intentionality of macro-results.50 It is at the macro level, then, where theories of rational institutional design begin to break down. If at the micro level regional institutions in Asia are intentionally designed, then at the macro level, the overarching regional architecture is less a result of design and more a product of evolution and institutional overlap. As Wendt states: “Incremental changes may cause institutions to evolve in an objectively functional way, but that evolution is more a behind-the-backs process than a purposive one, and as such would have to be explained by the structures in which intentional agents are embedded, not the intentions themselves . . . it may be the structure of the evolutionary process, not the choices at each step of the way that explains the overall outcomes.”51 To understand the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture, we need to move beyond static accounts of change based on shifts in preferences and deviations from strategic equilibrium. By identifying different modes of interaction be-

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tween macro- or meso-level structures and micro-level processes, we can observe greater variation in change processes.52

Historical Institutionalism and Theories of Institutional Design Historical Institutionalism in International Relations Theory Historical institutionalism (HI) is particularly well suited for examining processes of evolutionary change. As Orfeo Fioretos writes, “historical institutionalism stresses the type of processes that often characterize international relations, including the legacies of founding moments in shaping long-term power relations and whether new ideas become consequential, the ubiquity of unintended consequences, and especially the prevalence of incremental reform over stasis and fundamental transformations.”53 HI has only recently begun to find its niche in the international relations (IR) discipline.54 This lacuna is striking, given that temporal processes, institutional change, and agent-structure constraints are just as prevalent in IR as they are in American or comparative politics, where a strong tradition of historical institutional research already exists. The relatively weak foothold of historical institutionalism in IR theory can be partly attributed to the dominance of rational institutionalism in the field.55 For rational institutionalists, actors carry a fixed set of preferences that are often given exogenously. Actors behave in an instrumental and highly strategic manner to attain their preferences.56 In contrast, HI suggests that institutions shape actors’ preferences by generating sunk costs and increasing returns. Actors still behave instrumentally, but their preferences are endogenously shaped by institutions.57 Some have argued that the centrality of preferences at the microfoundational level make HI little different from its rationalist cousin.58 Yet, if a narrower reading of HI differs little from rational institutionalism, then other interpretations have pushed HI closer toward sociological institutionalism. Daniel Nexon encourages scholars to use HI as a broad took kit for “grappling with the dynamic nature of causal processes and their embedment within specific socio-historical contexts.”59 Such an approach shifts HI away from the level of microfoundations and toward middle-range theorizing, often at the intersection of domestic and international politics.60 Historical institutionalists find common ground with social constructivists by demonstrating how actors’ preferences are shaped and mutually reinforced by existing structures. At stake is whether actors’ preferences are merely shaped by institutions or whether preferences and institutions are mutually constituted.61 The affinity between constructivism and HI becomes most apparent if institutions are treated as ideational and not just material structures.62 Path dependence (and the

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prospect for change) is not only a function of sunk costs and increasing returns; it is also a product of cognitive and organizational biases, shared beliefs, collective ideas, and routine practices embedded in institutions. As such, HI may embrace a more eclectic approach to IR by taking into account the role of interests, ideas, and institutions when explaining political change and stability. Of course, HI has its limitations.63 Critics see HI as an approach drawing on inductive insights rather than deductive theory. Cause-and-effect relationships are at times fuzzy when tracing institutional outcomes back to a set of historical events.64 I would contend, however, that HI tends to see relationships as constitutive rather than strictly causal. After all, actors’ decisions are embedded in some structural and historical context. Indeed, the advantage of HI over other approaches is its attention to time and history, and its ability to explain the development of institutional structures as a running “filmstrip” rather than in a few selected snapshots.65 To address the fuzziness of the HI logic, HI scholars should clearly spell out mechanisms of change and continuity, demonstrating how the two processes might also interact. For instance, self-reinforcement and positive feedback mechanisms that incentivize actors to maintain the status quo may result in slow, endogenous change when actors are confronted with unforeseen external challenges that require institutional innovation or adaptation.

Explaining Stability For historical institutionalists, the timing and sequence of events are fundamental to outcomes, as later events are conditioned by prior ones. Path-dependent arguments do suggest an element of choice or agency at the moment of institutional innovation. However, once chosen, a particular path becomes locked in as “relevant actors adjust their strategies to accommodate the prevailing pattern.”66 Institutions are “sticky” and difficult to overturn because they create both new stakeholders and strong incentives for existing constituencies to maintain ongoing institutional arrangements. Choices made earlier in time therefore generate selfreinforcing processes and positive feedback loops within a system, thus making it increasingly difficult to diverge from the initial path. Actors face rising costs of reversal over time as they adapt their behavior in ways that both reflect and reinforce the status quo.67 The preceding logic is captured by mechanisms of increasing returns in which “the probability of further steps along the same path increases with each move down that path.”68 This may occur as the relative benefits of current arrangements rise over time compared with alternative institutional arrangements. Put differently, the costs of “switching to some previously plausible alternative” (or exit costs) begin to rise.69

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Beyond costs and increasing returns, however, path dependence may ensue as the familiar and routine become a part of actors’ beliefs and worldviews. To give a personal anecdote, my parents continue to purchase Toyota vehicles after twenty years. In their experience, Toyotas have been reliable, despite the recent frequency of consumer recalls for particular makes and models. Toyota cars have become familiar to them, and they believe in the superior quality of Japanese automobiles. When they finally decided to upgrade their car, they purchased a Lexus, a luxury Toyota brand. Their decisions have affected my own car preferences, having previously owned a Toyota Corolla since graduate school, then graduating to a RAV4 to accommodate a family of four. Less trivially, proponents of “tradition” prefer the “good ol’ way” of doing things as the comforts of routine become connected to one’s personal and collective beliefs. Path-dependent and lock-in mechanisms are thus both material and ideational in nature. In addition to increasing returns, other self-reinforcing mechanisms, such as asset specificity and binding, keep actors on the well-trodden path. Assets that are specific to a relationship (e.g., military alliances) and developed over time for a particular purpose (e.g., regional security) are likely to create positive feedback loops, resulting in more productive “transaction costs.”70 For instance, in a military alliance, asset specificity may include “consultation mechanisms, military planning and command structures, common infrastructure, joint exercises, inter­operable weapons systems, and integrated forces” between alliance partners.71 Meanwhile, institutions take on binding characteristics “when adjacent institutions and groups” become connected to the institution and dependent on it for their own functioning.”72 As Peter Hall notes, previous policy lines shape subsequent policy by “encouraging societal forces to organize along some lines rather than others, to adopt particular identities, or to develop interests in polices that are costly to shift.”73 Subsequently, political elites in Australia, Japan, or South Korea who have come to identify bilateral alliances as an extension of their own national security framework continue to support the hub-and-spokes system today. In the same manner, some Southeast Asian countries identify with ASEAN, whether or not it is an effective institution, and continue to promote the organization as the prime mover of Asian regionalism.

Explaining Change How do we explain change if institutions create self-reinforcing mechanisms and are difficult to replace? A fundamental tension in HI scholarship is the difficulty in explaining the relationship between stability and change.74 Earlier comparative historical analysts invoked the concept of critical junctures to explain institutional change within a path-dependent framework.75 Taking a cue from punctu-

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ated equilibrium models in biology, external shocks help explain rapid periods of institutional change that are then followed by stasis.76 The problem with exogenous shock approaches is that the prospect for institutional change lies mostly outside the existing institutional order. Moreover, the exogenous shock– critical juncture thesis often assumes a break with an earlier path-dependent trajectory in favor of some new institutional path. New political arrangements may emerge from a crisis, but they may not necessarily destroy or replace the existing institutional order. For instance, the Asian financial crisis is often cited as a critical juncture. The jolt to Asian economies helped rejuvenate regionalism by breathing life into new institutions such as the ASEAN Plus Three. However, new multilateral arrangements coexisted with alreadyestablished institutional structures, including bilateral alliances. Although crises are important in creating conditions for institutional change, the critical juncture framework does not sufficiently recognize the powerful, entrenched nature of institutions. Placed in a temporal context, institutions are often embedded in the larger political system, which suggests a greater degree of continuity in Asia’s regional architecture than is often acknowledged. More recent historical institutional scholarship has moved beyond punctuated equilibrium models and strict notions of path dependence to focus on mechanisms of endogenous change such as institutional layering, conversion, and drift.77 The process of layering, first examined in studies of institutional development in American politics, may be particularly applicable to Asia’s evolving architecture.78 In an institution such as the US Congress, the process of change is driven by various coalitions pursuing a wide range of collective interests. Institutions develop “through an accumulation of innovations that are inspired by competing motives,” which results in a “tense layering of new arrangements on top of preexisting structures intended to serve different purposes.”79 Institutional layering occurs when new actors or coalitions seeking novel institutional arrangements “lack the support or perhaps the inclination, to replace preexisting institutions established to pursue other ends.”80 Unable to do away with institutions that continue to provide positive returns, a solution arises by incorporating new institutional arrangements that are compatible with the existing structure. As Orfeo Fioretos argues, “States with stakes in existing designs have dealt with new problems by creating new subsidiary organizations within existing arrangements and by adding new institutional forms with limited authority alongside these existing arrangements.”81 As such, “the non-simultaneity of institutional creation generates ‘mosaics’ of institutions and layered structures of authority.”82 The accumulation of numerous institutions over time may create “contradictory imperatives,” with actors exploiting the tensions and contradic-

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tions between institutions to build new forms of authority.83 Multiple iterations of institutional layering may eventually lead to regime complexity with the presence of nested, partially overlapping, or parallel institutions.84 Returning to the context of Asia, multiple interests and competing “coalitions” underpin the interactions between regional actors as they promote new multilateral institutions. Of course, “coalitions” do not exist in the context of Asia’s regional architecture in the same way that they exist in US Congress. What we can learn from this analogy, however, is about the ability of Asian actors to accommodate new and potentially competing institutional arrangements with existing structures, such as the hub-and-spokes alliance system. Change therefore occurs incrementally through an institutional layering process. Processes of endogenous change through institutional layering are most likely when existing institutions are characterized by formality (i.e., rules are clearly defined with high levels of obligation and precision) and resistance to new institutions remains strong.85 By claiming that institutional layering best characterizes the development of Asia’s regional architecture, one assumes a high degree of formalization among Asian institutions. This characterization is accurate for the hub-and-spokes alliance system, which rests on formal bilateral treaties with relatively clear, defined rules. However, the presence of ASEAN and the addition of several ASEAN-affiliated multilateral initiatives, all marked by informality (e.g., loosely interpreted rules; nonbinding and voluntary commitments), introduces the possibility of institutional drift. Institutions do not disappear, but the rate of forward progress or deeper institutionalization is incredibly slow. In sum, processes of institutional layering and, to a lesser extent, institutional drift have both contributed to the gradual rise of Asia’s complex institutional patchwork in the twenty-first century.

The Evolution of Asia’s Regional Architecture: A New Framework When explaining change in Asia’s institutional architecture, the existing literature tends to focus on critical junctures and exogenous shocks, such as the end of the Cold War, the Asian financial crisis in 1997, and 9/11. External shocks carry the potential to reshape or create new institutional orders, shattering old ideas and requiring actors to “negotiate new arrangements or modify existing ones.”86 However, as stated earlier, the external shock– critical juncture framework relies on an explanation for change initiated by outside forces. Moreover, it ignores the links between old and new institutions at the micro level and downplays aspects of continuity in the development of Asia’s regional architecture at the

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macro level. Rather than focus on exogenous shocks, I present an argument that considers endogenous processes of institutional change and continuity to explain (1) the robustness of US bilateral alliances over time, (2) the recent proliferation of new institutional arrangements in the context of bilateralism and multilateralism, and (3) growing regime complexity in Asia. The path-dependent nature of bilateral security alliances and the early precedent set by ASEAN in building informal, consensus-based multilateral institutions presents unique challenges in the development of Asia’s regional architecture. However, processes of institutional layering and institutional drift do enable actors to circumvent and navigate multiple competing (and often entrenched) interests to create new multilateral initiatives without abandoning existing institutional structures. Applying the framework to Asia, endogenous change in the regional architecture most likely comes through an institutional layering process, given the entrenched nature of bilateralism. Strong political resistance makes it difficult for policy makers dissatisfied with US-led bilateralism to pursue significant changes to the hub-and-spokes system. Major support for bilateral alliances exists among powerful elites in Japan, South Korea, Australia, and the Philippines—not to mention the United States. Moreover, bilateral alliances are formal and legal, codified by bilateral treaties that give domestic actors seeking to change the status quo much less slack in interpreting and enforcing existing rules. This is in contrast to ASEAN-based institutions, which are more likely to follow a pattern of institutional drift, given the informality and flexibility of rules. Figure 1.2 provides a heuristic describing endogenous change within Asia’s institutional architecture. Bilateralism defined the postwar regional security architecture for much of the Cold War period (t1). In the post–Cold War era, Asian actors have proposed several multilateral forums and institutions to address and manage regional problems. Crises such as the end of the Cold War, the Asian financial crisis, and North Korean nuclear proliferation have generated new opportunities and a demand for actors to promote new multilateral institutions.87 However, existing institutional structures have created constituencies and powerful domestic interests dedicated to maintaining the institutional order. As students of historical institutionalism argue, “institutions tend to create relations and commitments with other actors and institutions that serve to embed the institution and raise the costs of change.”88 In the case of bilateral alliances, varying levels of consensus among domestic Asian elites emerged in support of US alliances, making it difficult for actors to break away from bilateralism in Asia. Among US allies, the alliance consensus operated most strongly in Japan and South Korea. In Southeast Asia, actors were averse to creating any institutional channels that did not adhere to the ASEAN way—that is, an informal, consensus-based approached to institutions.

Asia’s Regional Architecture Bilateralism (Existing institutional architecture)

Multilateral initiative (i.e. ASEAN processes)

Bilateralism

Complex patchwork (Current institutional architecture)

Multilateralism ???

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T2

T3

T4

figure 1.2  Process of institutional layering in Asia

The end of the Cold War opened political opportunities for actors to build new regional structures beyond bilateralism. However, existing institutions have generated cognitive biases, institutional barriers, and ideational constraints over time, thereby stacking the deck in favor of new institutional arrangements that accommodate US alliances and/or remain weak and informal, along the lines of the “ASEAN way.” As a result, new institutional arrangements have emerged without necessarily abolishing or superseding established institutional ties. Instead, they have been layered on top of existing institutions (t2). Over time, the layering process has led to a “complex patchwork” of bilateral, trilateral, and other multilateral institutional arrangements.89 Although some actors, such as ASEAN and China, prefer shaping the post–Cold War regional architecture toward greater multilateralism, other powerful actors with vested interests in the existing institutional architecture, most notably the United States, have traditionally resisted efforts to create strong multilateral institutions. Additionally, new organizational initiatives established by ASEAN have remained

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mostly informal, rarely moving beyond the stage of confidence building, and thereby producing a sense of institutional drift. Multiple iterations of this process have resulted in the present patchwork of overlapping multilateral institutions layered on top of bilateral alliances (t3). The outcome of this layering process has been increasing regime complexity, weak multilateralism, and continued reliance on US bilateral alliances. Since the late 1990s, Asia has witnessed the emergence of several multilateral institutions but without the development of a broader multilateral framework for the region. Rather than replacing bilateral alliances, multilateral arrangements such as the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC), the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF), or the APT have developed on top of or in conjunction with existing bilateral arrangements. Multilateral institutions are viewed as just one means of facilitating cooperation and governance within Asia’s larger complex patchwork. Likewise, for the foreseeable future, the hub-and-spokes system will continue to offer solutions to existing regional problems, particularly in the area of security. However, an open question remains as to whether the layering process will continue to bring incremental changes to the overall regional architecture, with multilateralism eventually emerging as the new default framework for regional cooperation and stability (t4). Regional optimists remain hopeful of such an outcome, but endogenous theories of institutional change suggest that the choices made today may not translate to the desired outcome we expect further down the road.

Methods and Research Design Historical institutional research often relies on qualitative methods and case study analysis to examine events and causal processes. To demonstrate how actors’ choices are shaped by the historical institutional context, I trace a sequence of events that highlight changes and continuity in Asia’s regional architecture. For my argument to hold, evidence must be marshaled to demonstrate (1) the resilience and adaptability of bilateral alliances across the hub-and-spokes system, especially after the end of the Cold War, and (2) the development of new regional institutions layered on top of and functioning in conjunction with bilateral alliances and other existing institutions. As to the first issue, I develop a set of propositions centered on the notion of an alliance consensus established among political elites. An alliance consensus is defined as the degree to which domestic political elites in Asia support the US alliance to achieve domestic and national security objectives.90 A strong alliance consensus is driven by more than threat perceptions; it becomes embedded

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and routine in the minds of political actors, reified through binding and self-­ reinforcing mechanisms inherent in historical institutional processes. At the same time, its legitimacy and widespread acceptance makes an alliance both flexible and resilient in the wake of external changes. Based on this discussion, the following propositions can be generated regarding US alliances: • Proposition 1: US bilateral alliances undergirded by a strong domestic consensus in favor of alliance relations are more likely to remain resilient than alliances that lack such consensus. o Proposition 1a: An alliance consensus is rooted in ideas and institutions in addition to threat perceptions. Therefore, threat perceptions are a necessary but not sufficient condition for alliance consensus. o Proposition 1b: The strength of an alliance consensus is undergirded by its depth (e.g., the institutionalization of alliances within a given polity) and breadth (e.g., widespread support for US alliances across the political spectrum) within the domestic polity. • Proposition 2: The stronger the consensus for bilateral alliances, the more likely actors will be to resist changes that undermine alliance priorities. • Proposition 3: An alliance based on common values and ideology is more adaptable to external changes than an alliance based purely on material threats. To determine the existence of an alliance consensus among policy makers, I use secondary sources, but where it is instructive, I provide additional support from primary sources, such as the personal memoirs of key leaders, diplomatic cables compiled in the US State Department’s Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS) series, policy documents, and elite interviews. In addition to marshaling evidence of an alliance consensus supporting US bilateral alliances during the Cold War and beyond (albeit to varying degrees and with periodic domestic backlash), I describe how prior institutional choices and path-dependent processes conditioned actors’ responses to promote, lobby, constrain, or block specific regional institution-building efforts. The next two propositions outline conditions for institutional layering and drift: • Proposition 4: The greater the resistance to altering existing institutions or systems (e.g., bilateral alliances, ASEAN) among regional actors, the more likely regional institutions will be to emerge through a layering process (as opposed to replacing or converting existing institutions). • Proposition 5: The greater the degree of formality (informality) characterizing institutions, the less (more) likely institutions will be to face institutional drift over time.

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I add one final proposition to distinguish the historical institutional thesis against the backdrop of realist and rational institutional alternatives to institution building in Asia: • Proposition 6: Actors’ choices are bounded and shaped by the existing institutional environment. Thus, the development of Asia’s regional architecture is significantly influenced by prior institutional choices and is not simply a reflection of the constellation of actors’ preferences, nor is it primarily a product of regional rivalries based on geostrategic competition. To demonstrate how historical institutionalism informs the development of Asia’s regional architecture beyond the hub-and-spokes system, I trace the emergence of several multilateral (and mini-lateral) institutions: Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation; ASEAN Regional Forum; ASEAN Plus Three; East Asia Summit; Six-Party Talks; the Trilateral Strategic Dialogue; the Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat/ Trilateral Summit; the Trans-Pacific Partnership,91 and the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership. These institutions vary in their size, membership, issue area, leadership, and degree of formality. I identify which states or policy makers initially promoted, endorsed, or resisted multilateral initiatives and also examine discourse and debates among these actors regarding their vision of specific regional institutions. Evidence is collected from official documents published by regional institutions, policy reports, conference proceedings, and institutional working papers. This literature is supplemented with interviews with experts and policy makers based in Asia and in the United States.92

The Road Ahead and Conclusion In the following chapters, I chronicle the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture from the post–World War II period to the present. My argument proceeds in more or less chronological fashion beginning with the development of US bilateral alliances and ASEAN during the Cold War. Chapter 2 describes the huband-spokes bilateral alliance system emerging from the aftermath of the Pacific War and the alliance consensus forged by elites in Asia and the US during the Cold War. In particular, I highlight how a combination of threat perceptions, anticommunist ideology, and US domestic political support helped perpetuate bilateral alliances for much of the Cold War in Japan, the Philippines, South Korea, Australia, and Thailand. In an effort to give equal attention to bilateral and multilateral trends in the post–Cold War period, Chapters 3 to 5 discuss Asian institution building in conjunction with developments in the hub-and-spokes bilateral alliance system.

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These three chapters set out to explain how and why regional actors have built a complex array of overlapping institutions rather than any centralizing institution that defines political, economic, or security relations across Asia. Chapter 3 describes the push for new multilateral institutions and the resilience of US bilateral alliances in the 1990s. The emergence of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation and the ASEAN Regional Forum and the reformulation of the US-Japan and US-Philippines alliances are provided as case examples. Chapter 4 chronicles the growth of East Asian regionalism following the Asian financial crisis. Although multilateral institutions such as the ASEAN Plus Three, East Asia Summit, and Six Party Talks developed in conjunction with increasing regionalization, the regional architecture itself was not moving in any teleological direction toward multilateralism. A comparison of US-South Korea and US-Thailand relations during this period highlights the robustness of the hub-and-spokes system. Chapter 5 describes the emerging complex patchwork of Asia’s regional architecture in the context of the US strategic rebalance toward Asia and a rising China. US bilateral alliances with Australia and the Philippines again demonstrate the resilience of the hub-and-spokes system. These alliances intersect with emerging trilateral relationships such as the US-Japan-Australia Trilateral Strategic Dialogue and the China-Japan-South Korea Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat. They also coexist with the rise of regional trade agreements such as the TPP and the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP). Chapter 6 brings greater attention to US policy in Asia under the Trump administration, as well as China’s strategic vision for the region under President Xi Jinping. I then explore the effects and consequences of Asia’s regional architecture on regional order and governance. I end the chapter by describing how processes of institutional layering and the complex patchwork of regional institutions may enhance rather than undermine governance. In Chapter 7, I review the key findings of the book as they pertain to the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture. I then discuss how historical institutionalism, as applied in the context of Asia’s regional architecture, advances our understanding of international relations and policy analysis more generally. The book closes by offering some final thoughts for US policy makers on how they might navigate the complex patchwork to articulate and legitimate rules for institutional order and cooperation. Regional order hinges on the institutional bargains negotiated between multiple actors.93 Implicit behind this idea is the belief that a region’s institutional architecture matters for the provision of collective goods such as increased security, regional financial stability, or preparedness for natural disasters. Policy makers in

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the United States, China, and elsewhere therefore continue to invest in existing and new regional institutions. To follow the trajectory of Asia’s institutional architecture and understand its effect on regional governance, however, we need to pay close attention to the temporal character of institutions. As Fioretos and his coauthors argue, “The timing and sequence of political events . . . reveals why polities are rarely neatly organized or quickly adapting structures, but rather complex, overlapping structures predominantly characterized by incremental change.”94 Although actors’ decisions may be rational and intentional at any given moment, by examining Asia through the lens of historical institutionalism across several decades, it becomes clear that the regional architecture has been evolving more haphazardly than previously argued. This finding has important implications for how policy makers think about institutional design and Asian regionalism. More specifically, it provides major powers such as China, and especially the United States, with a set of guidelines to consider as they attempt to use and shape that architecture to expand their own regional influence. I return to these points in the conclusion. For now, we turn to the beginning of our story—the origins of bilateral alliances and the growth of an alliance consensus among Asian domestic elites.

2

Bilateralism, Multilateralism, and the Making of an Alliance Consensus

Threat perceptions explain much about the origins of alliance.1 During the Cold War, the Soviet threat and the fear of communist expansion pushed the United States and several Asian nations to form bilateral alliances. However, material threats are insufficient in explaining the practice of Cold War alliance politics and the persistence of bilateralism in post–Cold War Asia. Several important works have already laid out nuanced arguments describing how and why bilateralism, rather than multilateralism, became the modus operandi for Asia.2 Rather than rehashing those earlier debates, though, this chapter focuses more explicitly on the growth and persistence of bilateral alliances during the Cold War and how an elite consensus in support of bilateral ties strengthened over time. In addition to threat perceptions, the arguments here take into account the role of ideas, institutions, and domestic politics in the formation of an elite consensus. The domestic consensus surrounding US alliances functioned as the glue reinforcing the hub-and-spokes system in Asia and provided bilateral alliances some degree of resilience in periods of crisis. Consistent with a historical institutional framework, the earlier choice of bilateralism would bear a mark on later institutional decisions pertaining to Asia’s regional architecture. The ongoing threat of communism certainly helped reify bilateral alliances over a period of time. But at some point, the hub-and-spokes system generated a self-reinforcing logic that would move beyond threat perceptions. Alliances, of course, were not static. Nationalist sentiment, fears of alliance abandonment and entrapment, and domestic political shifts periodically soured bilateral ties. Policy makers on both sides of the Pacific needed to manage

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alliances. Despite occasional tensions in bilateral relations, however, the system of US bilateral alliances were considered fundamentally important to the region by Asian and American policy makers alike. Domestic power holders developed vested interests in sustaining bilateral alliances, which would create positive feedback loops for sustaining the hub-and-spokes alliance system. It should be noted that the rise of Asia’s postwar regional architecture represented in this chapter largely reflects the standpoint of the US and, to a lesser degree, the perspective of Asian allies tied to the US-led hub-and-spokes system. As such, the perspective of major countries in the region outside of the hub-and-spokes architecture, most notably China, India, and the Soviet Union, remains beyond the scope of analysis. This omission is not intended to suggest that actors outside of the hub and spokes were any less important in regional affairs; it merely signifies the absence of other major formal institutional structures throughout much of Cold War Asia. Although some coordination on security and economic policy existed among communist countries, it is at best unclear whether such coordination constituted anything paralleling the system of US-led bilateral ­alliances. I begin this chapter by outlining the regional context before the bilateral huband-spokes system. The early trappings of regionalism under Japanese rule were obliterated with Japan’s defeat in the Pacific War. The destruction of the Japanese empire provided the US and newly independent Asian states a clean slate to begin forging a new regional architecture. Next I explain how a combination of threat perceptions, anticommunist ideology, and domestic institutions interacted to produce an alliance consensus among Asian elites and between bilateral alliance partners. I illustrate my argument with examples across several US bilateral alliances, demonstrating how the consensus helped build a network of domestic elites in Asia with a vested interest in preserving the hub-and-spokes system. A discussion follows of a different form of consensus built around multilateralism in Southeast Asia and the rise of ASEAN in the context of bilateralism.3 I conclude by summarizing the state of bilateralism at the end of the Cold War.

Destruction of a Regional Order Most scholarship on bilateralism and multilateralism in Asia adopt the post-1945 period as a starting point for regional analysis. Of course, different forms of regionalism have existed prior to the modern era, most notably the Sino-centric tributary system.4 And before the construction of the postwar hub-and-spokes system, the Japanese had implemented their own form of regionalism under imperial rule. Touted as the East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere, regionalism was defined largely through colonial economic relations, which in turn carried im-

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portant political and security implications for Japanese expansion. Furthermore, Japan’s Co-Prosperity Sphere exemplified a form of cultural regionalism: an Asia ruled by Asians, liberated from the hands of Western imperialists.5 My argument, like that of many other preceding works on Asian regional architecture and East Asian regionalism, is largely a post-1945 story. However, I mention this earlier system for two reasons. First, although the postwar huband-spokes system represented a new beginning for East Asia, a different form of regional architecture predated Cold War bilateralism, albeit one based on colonial structures and network ties. This point may seem obvious, but it is one often neglected by students of international relations who treat the emergence of the postwar regional architecture as given.6 Second, and more germane to the broader themes of this book, is the relevance of the social and temporal context behind institutional design and the development of regional order. World War II served as the exogenous shock that uprooted the existing colonial order in Asia. The collapse of the Japanese empire enabled US postwar planners (and to a lesser extent European and Asian actors) to build new institutions and implement regional security arrangements with little resistance from the guardians of the preexisting colonial system.7 One of the few stipulations to the new institutional order was Japan’s initial exclusion from the regional ­architecture. Japan’s colonial past helped support the rationale for strong bilateralism, which enabled the US to place significant constraints on Japan. Although the Pacific War provided a clean slate to rebuild an institutional architecture against rising communist threats, the postwar regional order was also conditioned on the previous order in both obvious and subtle ways. The colonial past was most obviously manifest in lingering historical antagonism, a problem which continues to exist even today. Deep levels of mistrust from Asians, particularly Chinese and Koreans toward Japan, helped create a permissive environment for US presence in Asia. With the communist threat looming, the US needed to quickly assemble an institutional architecture to secure its geostrategic interests in East Asia. This required skill and capacity on the part of Asians to jump-start their economies. Japanese collaborators with bureaucratic experience in the colonial administration were therefore thrust into positions that gave them some measure of control in shaping their postwar domestic economy. Taking advantage of prewar colonial networks, collaborators thus played an indirect hand in shaping the postwar regional architecture. Additionally, in an effort to help rebuild Japan as part of its Cold War strategy, the US provided Japan with access not only to its own market but also to markets and raw materials in Southeast Asia. In effect, this replicated some of the economic dynamics developed under the Greater East Asian

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­ o-Prosperity sphere and gave both the Japanese and Southeast Asians incentives C to commit to the US-led system.8 In sum, even with the violent shock of the Pacific War wiping out much of the regional infrastructure built by Imperial Japan, remnants of the old order continued to shape the policy options available to postwar regional architects in Asia and in Washington.

The Origins of Bilateralism On September 8, 1951, the United States, Japan, and forty-six other nations signed the Treaty of San Francisco, officially ending hostilities between the Allied powers and Japan. On the same day, the United States signed a separate security treaty with Japan. The United States had already signed a security agreement with Australia and New Zealand (the ANZUS Treaty) and a mutual defense treaty with the Philippines the previous week. Reflecting the strategic priorities of the United States, the San Francisco meeting marked not only a new era of US bilateral alliances in Asia but also the early foundations of the postwar regional order.9 As Cold War front lines in Asia deepened after the Korean War, the US signed mutual defense treaties with South Korea in 1953 and the Republic of China (Taiwan) in 1954. This collection of US-centered bilateral alliances in Asia became known as the hub-and-spokes system: the US acted as the hub and Asian alliance partners functioned as the spokes. Each spoke was tightly linked to the US hub but unconnected to any other spokes on the perimeter. That US postwar planners established bilateral alliances to deter communist threats and maintain its geopolitical influence in the region is rarely disputed. For historians and political scientists, however, a key question has centered on the choice of bilateral alliances over other multilateral arrangements. After all, the US had established the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) as a multilateral security alliance in Western Europe to deter communist aggression and strengthen its geostrategic position in that part of the world. Before the Korean War, several Asian states, including the Philippines, South Korea, and the ROC, had also flirted with multilateralism through the proposed Pacific Pact.10 Furthermore, in Southeast Asia, the US did organize the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) as a loose multilateral institution. Although by no means predetermined, the adoption of bilateral alliances was heavily conditioned by both structural and cultural factors. Realist perspectives point to “extreme hegemony” or the asymmetric nature of US power relative to other Asian states at the end of the Cold War.11 Japan, temporarily governed by the US military, was in no position to resist US authority. The ROC had retreated to the island of Formosa. South Korea lay in ruins following the devasta-

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tion of the Korean War. Given that influential policy makers such as Secretary of State Dean Acheson or his successor John Foster Dulles preferred bilateral arrangements as Cold War lines began to harden, vast power differentials between the United States and potential Asian alliance partners would have made it difficult to persuade the US to commit to multilateral arrangements.12 US perceptions of Asians and differences in collective identity between Asia and the West also steered US policy planners toward bilateralism rather than multilateralism. Although US policy makers viewed European allies as “members of a shared community,” potential allies in Asia were “seen as part of an alien and, in important ways, inferior community.”13 US officials often depicted Asian allies in racially and culturally inferior terms.14 State Department officials expressed doubt and reservations even regarding the US-initiated SEATO. Moreover, with the exception of perhaps Thailand and the Philippines, the only two SEATO members actually located in Southeast Asia, local officials carried their own normative biases, which made them wary of Western-style institutions.15 The absence of common identity or shared cultural norms did not necessarily preclude the formation of a multilateral alliance. But to the extent that it bred mistrust and uncertainty in the reliability of alliance partners, the lack of common identity did create additional hurdles to multilateralism. Identity and power are often pitted against each other as alternative variables in explanations of the trajectory of bilateralism in Asian security.16 However, this debate is less relevant for the purposes of my argument. What is important is that both material and cultural antecedents made the option of strong multilateral institutions unlikely in postwar Asia. Dominant structural and normative conditions shaped the strategic options of US policy planners and Asian leaders. In the end, multilateral options such as SEATO and the Pacific Pact faded as the US shored up bilateralism as the strategic framework for East Asia.17 In short, bilateralism offered the path of least resistance in meeting the burgeoning threat of Soviet expansionism and internal communist insurgencies. Of course, bilateral security ties intersected with other regional and global multilateral relationships.18 But for the most part, it was bilateral alliances rather than “soft” multilateral economic relations that provided the region with a form of institutional stability.

From Threat Perceptions to Alliance Consensus Bilateral alliances in Asia experienced their highs and lows throughout the Cold War. As a system, however, the hub-and-spokes regional architecture remained robust throughout the Cold War. For the most part, bilateralism in Asia worked.

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US presence in the region kept a lid on Japanese military ambitions. Hostilities along Cold War fault lines such as the Taiwan Strait and Korean Peninsula were relatively restrained. Although periods of conflict ranging from border skirmishes to full-scale war in Vietnam characterized the Cold War period, large-scale international wars were avoided. Finally, regional actors outside of the bilateral system, most notably the Soviet Union and China, tacitly (if begrudgingly) accepted US military presence associated with bilateral alliances over time. In a region still scarred by its imperial past, the United States turned out to be “the least distrusted actor in the region.”19 What explains the robustness of the hub-and-spokes system during the Cold War and beyond? Of course, the conventional explanation falls back on threat perceptions. Policy makers on both sides of the Pacific had an interest in maintaining bilateral alliances as long as external and internal threats persisted. However, the balance-of-threat argument tends to oversimplify alliance politics and the underlying mechanisms that enabled the hub-and-spokes system to persist and be adapted over time. Other factors, including ideology, institutions, and domestic politics, existed beneath power balancing dynamics. These factors not only reinforced threat perceptions but also helped perpetuate the hub-and-spokes regional security architecture beyond the Cold War. The central argument in this chapter is that a fairly strong political consensus emerged between and among elite policy makers in Washington and Asian capitals in support of bilateral alliances. In other words, elites in the US and Asia shared a common understanding about US alliances and the role bilateral ties would play for a particular country’s domestic political and national security strategy.20 This point may seem obvious, but it is an important one; the alliance consensus forged during the Cold War would have a significant bearing on the development of Asia’s post–Cold War regional architecture, an argument I turn to in later chapters of this book. Some may infer that the alliance consensus was nothing more than the postwar political bargain struck in Asia. Asian allies would provide diplomatic and logistical support for the United States in return for US protection and access to its large economic market.21 Others may question any notion of consensus between the US and Asian alliance partners, or among Asian domestic elites, many of whom judged the value of US alliances in primarily national or even local and parochial terms. This was in contrast to US policy makers who viewed bilateral alliances as part of a larger grand strategy, both regional and global in ambition.22 The consensus I describe, however, is one forged between Washington and Asian capitals, and more important, within the domestic polity of a given country. An alliance consensus, then, is the shared perception and intersubjective un-

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derstanding of an alliance and how it ensures or relates to national security. In the context of bilateralism, consensus is defined as the shared perception and understanding of the US alliance held by government elites and the role it plays in a state’s national and regional security strategy. Under such consensus, policy makers agree that US alliance relations function as an integral component of their national security strategy, thus providing a measure of both domestic and regional stability. Determining the origins of any political consensus is not easy. At a superficial level, a consensus suggests a convergence of interests in an effort to pursue narrow political goals. But a consensus also suggests convergence around a set of shared ideas or beliefs. Of course, ideas and interests need not be mutually exclusive. A consensus initially achieved out of political expediency and strategic interests may become an established belief or dominant idea over time if institutionalized through practice. Such a consensus remains politically powerful for an extended period once entrenched in particular groups or societies, even cutting across partisan lines.23 Once embedded in norms and institutions, a consensus moves from the material to the ideational realm. As a “dominant idea” the alliance consensus remains embedded in institutions as well as “public discourse and symbols.”24 It lies submerged between representational knowledge that is “conscious, verbalizable, and intentional” and practical knowledge that is “tacit, inarticulate, and automatic.”25 In turn, a consensus provides policy guidelines for states, legitimating certain practices and institutions over others.26 Hence, the consensus will often perpetuate the interests of those in power. In the realm of security politics, powerful actors and groups connected to the foreign policy or security establishment may develop vested interests in maintaining a given consensus. For these political elites, bilateral relations with the US have become self-evident, almost “commonsensical” through the practice of security and alliance politics.27 A shift in the consensus requires a shift in ideas, beliefs, or perceptions of numerous individuals. If a large number of powerful elites all hold vested interests in maintaining the consensus, one or two individuals transmitting alternative ideas will not easily shatter the existing order of beliefs. This is not to argue that an alliance consensus remains fixed indefinitely. However, an alliance consensus, even if significantly weakened over time, still provides the basis for institutional ties and hence some degree of continuity across time. In sum, my goal in detailing the growth of an alliance consensus is not to provide an alternative to threat-based arguments as a factor behind the robustness of bilateralism. Instead, drawing on historical institutional analysis, I look beyond threat perceptions to reveal mechanisms of continuity and explain why and how

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political elites within the hub-and-spokes framework were keen on preserving bilateral alliances. Threat perceptions waxed and waned across the Cold War decades. Despite these fluctuations, however, the preference for bilateralism among US Asian allies remained robust. This robustness was partly a function of extant threats, but it was also grounded in ideas and institutions. The eventual collapse of the Cold War order would test the strength of the alliance consensus and durability of the hub-and-spokes system. But as I argue in later chapters, bilateral alliances would remain a staple of Asia’s post–Cold War architecture even with the proliferation of multilateral institutions.

Building Consensus Across the Hub-and-Spokes System To cover several US bilateral alliances in Asia in a single chapter, depth must be sacrificed for breadth. Fortunately, Cold War alliances in Asia have already been well documented by historians and political scientists, making my task easier. Although I paint my survey of alliances with broad brushstrokes, I try to hone in on details that highlight the intermingling of anticommunist ideology, threat perceptions, and domestic institutions leading to the rise of an elite alliance consensus. Readers may want to refer back to propositions 1 through 3 in the previous chapter to see how the formation of a strong domestic consensus favoring US alliances fits with the broader historical institutional framework used to explain Asia’s developing regional architecture. In particular, the alliance consensus underpinning US bilateral alliances reinforces mechanisms of continuity and support for bilateralism (proposition 1 and 2). However, the ideational nature of consensus (proposition 3) makes the hub-and-spokes system and the unfolding regional architecture also adaptable and malleable to change. I examine US alliances with the Philippines, Japan, South Korea, Australia, and Thailand.28 With each bilateral alliance, I begin with the baseline assumption that alliances formed in response to Cold War tensions and the fear of communist expansion both domestically and regionally.29 Asian allies achieved security gains under the protective cover of US bilateral alliances. However, in each of the cases I highlight other variables that suggest that an alliance consensus, linked to domestic and ideational factors, developed beyond shared external threat perceptions. The alliance consensus was predicated to some extent on one or more of the following: anticommunist ideology, domestic institutions perpetuating close ties to the US, the need for international legitimacy, shared experiences, and preservation of domestic political stability. Some factors matter more than others given the specific context of each country and the historical trajectory of bilateral relations. Also, the degree of alliance consensus among domestic elites will vary,

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with a strong consensus operating in some countries such as Japan and South Korea and a relatively weaker consensus functioning in other places like Thailand.30 Finally, I assume that the US preferred preserving its bilateral alliances in Asia, even with US policy makers calling for retrenchment at particular points during the Cold War (most notably during the Nixon and Carter administrations). Therefore, the US remains relatively “static” in my analysis, with the focus directed on alliance consensus in Asian countries.31 The perceptions and actions of US policy makers greatly mattered in determining the course of alliance policy. US announcements of withdrawal triggered panic among their Asian counterparts on more than one occasion. However, the hub-and-spokes system was also maintained via the strong consensus held among policy makers in Asia favoring US alliances. This reality is often overlooked because of the asymmetric nature of bilateralism and the assumption that only the US called the shots in alliance policies. In contrast, this chapter examines bilateral alliances from the perspective of the spokes rather than the hub.

US-Philippines Alliance For the Philippines, as a former American colony, an alliance partnership with the United States seemed like an obvious choice, at least for US policy makers hoping to exercise its continued leverage over Manila and for those Filipinos who profited politically and economically from their former colonial masters. Even before signing a mutual defense treaty, the Philippines had granted the US basing rights in 1947, only a year after gaining independence in 1946. As part of its containment policy in Asia, the US State Department included the Philippines in its perimeter of defense.32 Philippine sovereignty notwithstanding, George Kennan, then director of the State Department’s policy planning staff, recommended an interventionist policy to “preserve the archipelago as a bulwark of US security in the area.”33 Following this recommendation, Manila and Washington signed a mutual defense treaty on August 30, 1951, in Washington, DC. This was one week before the signing of the US-Japan security treaty in San Francisco. US-Philippine relations represented much more than a geostrategic alliance designed to counter regional security threats. US support for favored Filipino landed elites, including those who had collaborated with the Japanese, such as the Marcos family, provided Filipino politicians with enormous political clout. US support was almost a necessary condition for ambitious politicians seeking national office during the 1950s. It is no secret that the CIA played an influential role in Philippine politics during this period. As Raymond Bonner argues, CIA operatives nearly directed the 1953 presidential campaign of Ramon Magsaysay,

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helping him defeat the incumbent Elpidio Quirino, whom US officials viewed as having become too corrupt.34 At the same time, US officials attempted to discredit or silence nationalist politicians critical of US foreign policy and US bases stationed in the Philippines.35 Filipino politicians supported by Washington played their part in fighting communism at home and abroad. President Magsaysay was a quick supporter of the US-backed SEATO, but his administration remained lukewarm to other multilateral forums, such as the Bandung Conference, led by non-aligned leaders in Asia and Africa. Magsaysay’s successor, Carlos Garcia, signed Republic Act No. 1700, which outlawed the Communist Party of the Philippines.36 By the 1960s the US had taken a more hands-off approach to politics. The 1965 election between incumbent Diosdado Macapagal (the father of future president Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo) and Ferdinand Marcos paired two politicians identified by the CIA as both Western oriented and likely to support US interests.37 Marcos won with little direct help from the US. Nevertheless, Marcos sought recognition from Washington to shore up his domestic legitimacy. This was more apparent during his reelection bid in 1969. In catering to Marcos’s desire for a Nixon visit to Manila, one US embassy official observed, “President Nixon’s mere presence in Manila will convey to the average voter a US endorsement and protect Marcos from opposition charges that he is not a good friend of the US.”38 Marcos even sought assurances from the US embassy in Manila before establishing martial law in 1972 to avoid any political fallout with the Nixon administration as a result of his actions.39 The threat of political instability from communist insurgents would function as the proximate rationale for instituting martial law. Issued as Proclamation 1081, the first paragraph immediately cited armed insurrection and rebellion against the Philippine government with the threat of supplanting constitutional order with a vision instilled in Marxist-Leninist-Maoist ideals as the impetus for martial law.40 Neither the White House nor the State Department provided an official response to martial law.41 Although US ambassador Henry Byroade previously warned Marcos that martial law would not be acceptable and create strong reactions from Congress, he later suggested that the Nixon administration would back Marcos if the suppression of communist insurgencies required a period of martial law.42 Following the proclamation, Ambassador Byroade hesitantly concluded that the US “should quietly continue business as usual” with Marcos, seeing that there were very few options other than to accept and “assist as we can the effort by Marcos to build a ‘new society’ in the Philippines.”43 Aside from the marginalized Philippine left and a few prominent nationalist politicians, most elites within the Philippine business, foreign policy, and secu-

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rity establishment remained committed to the US alliance. However, evaluating the alliance consensus becomes more complicated during the dictatorship period. During the authoritarian era, an elite consensus in support of the alliance persisted within Marcos’s inner circle. If anything, Marcos depended even more on the US for political survival as his own legitimacy began to ebb with each passing year. From Washington’s end, US policy makers were not prepared to alter the status quo either, so long as the regime permitted US bases and maintained a stable business environment. During the Carter administration, some criticism directed at the regime’s human rights abuses brewed in the middle ranks of the State Department and among several members of Congress. However, more senior officials, including Vice President Walter Mondale and then assistant secretary of state for East Asia Richard Holbrooke, stuck with Marcos. Rather than reducing foreign aid as recommended by human rights advocates, the Carter administration actually increased aid to the Philippines.44 Marcos’s political survival was to some degree tethered to his regime’s security relationship with the United States. It was this close association, however, that would partly unravel the long-held alliance consensus among Philippine elites. As political resistance against the Marcos dictatorship increased, the opposition grew more disenchanted with US support for the dictator and its hypocritical stand on democracy and human rights in the Philippines. The assassination of Benigno Aquino on the tarmac of Manila Airport at his own homecoming in 1983 (Aquino had received asylum in the US following his earlier release from prison in the Philippines) marked a critical turning point for the anti-Marcos movement. The US did launch a more concerted effort in reaching out to the opposition at that point. However, opposition leaders who suffered at the hands of Marcos had become more ambivalent about US-Philippine relations. The leaders of the People Power Revolution were by no means anti-American. But the association between the Marcos dictatorship and the US-Philippine alliance inspired nationalist leaders to pursue a more independent foreign policy following democratization. The alliance consensus hit a low point after the postrevolution Senate voted to evict the US military from the islands in 1991. The loss of US bases fundamentally altered US-Philippine relations. However, existing alliance ties, domestic political constraints, and emerging threats would bring about a renewed alliance consensus the following decade. Manila and Washington established a formal alliance partnership to deter the communist threat. But the consensus in support of the alliance went beyond threat perceptions. It was rooted in the legacy of American colonial rule and held together by a strong domestic political logic. The consensus was partly ­ideational—a by-product of a half century of colonization having created a class

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of elites whose political and economic fortunes remained closely tied to their relationship with the United States. It was also partly institutional, with security institutions propped by US bases and economic assistance. Growing strains between the Marcos dictatorship and the Carter administration notwithstanding, ruling elites and even opposition leaders purged from Philippine politics continued to look toward the US for political and economic support. The crisis of the People Power Revolution would eventually stir the opposition to question longheld beliefs favoring close ties to the United States. Yet institutional and ideational anchors would help hold the alliance together in the post–Cold War era.

US-Japan Alliance Given the circumstances of Japan’s defeat and postwar occupation, the alliance consensus may have resonated most powerfully in the US-Japan alliance. The occupation and demilitarization of Japan carried out by US forces was both a “physical as well as a psychological project.”45 This blatantly asymmetric relationship would nevertheless lay the groundwork for Japan’s postwar national purpose and grand strategy.46 To begin with, US postwar planners imposed a new constitution. Article 9 of the Constitution functioned as the cornerstone of Japan’s postwar security arrangement. Under this article, Japan renounced war as a sovereign right and the use of force as a means to resolve international disputes. Transcending mere legal rhetoric, Article 9 operated as a norm constraining Japanese leaders from pursuing a more activist foreign policy, thus requiring Tokyo to cling tightly to the US security alliance.47 At the same time, Tokyo used the peace clause to deflect US demands for Japan to contribute more to its own national defense. Structural constraints imposed against Japan helped pave a growing policy consensus built by Japanese prime minister Yoshida Shigeru (1948 –1954). The Yoshida doctrine, as it became known, designated economic development as the nation’s foremost priority while using the US security umbrella to protect Japan from outside threats. As Japan scholar Richard Samuels argues, the Yoshida doctrine effectively institutionalized Japan’s “cheap ride” to security under the USJapan alliance.48 Although leftists and right-wing nationalists periodically tested the boundaries of Article 9, centrists in the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) largely adhered to the Yoshida doctrine and remained supportive of the US-Japan security treaty throughout the Cold War. It would be easy to end our discussion of alliance consensus by claiming that mainstream Japanese elites favored strong alliance relations with the US during the Cold War decades. However, such statements downplay the periodic turmoil that erupted in US-Japan relations and the difficult reality of maintaining strong bilat-

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eral alliances. Moreover, such simple assertions assume that alliance consensus and strong bilateral relations hinge predominantly on external threats. Although threat perceptions play a key role in the construction of an alliance consensus, unduly focusing on threat perceptions gives short thrift to a deeper understanding of how such a consensus was sustained between and within Tokyo and Washington in support of the US-Japan alliance. As in the US-Philippines alliance, ideas, institutions, and domestic politics played a critical role in sustaining the consensus in Japan. Japan’s heavy reliance on the US and its inability to assert a more proactive foreign policy is often attributed to the enormous legal obstacles established by US occupying forces and the growth of an antimilitarist culture in postwar Japan. However, these constraints, as significant as they are, should not diminish our understanding of Japanese postwar leaders in crafting their own national security agenda. As historian Kenneth Pyle argues, reliance on the US alliance was an “opportunistic adaptation to the conditions in which the Japanese leadership found their nation and a shrewd pursuit of a sharply defined national interest within the constraints that the postwar international order placed upon them.”49 Indeed, the unwillingness of Japan to contribute more to its own defense policy often frustrated Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, who insisted that Tokyo must “bear some responsibility and a fair share of the common burden of defense of the free world.”50 With the Cold War intensifying in Asia, the Eisenhower administration would have loved nothing more than for Japan to reinterpret (if not remove) Article 9 and expand its own military capabilities.51 Contrary to what the Eisenhower administration hoped, Prime Minister Yoshida added institutional procedures to prevent the military from gaining the upper hand on national security policy making. For instance, Yoshida placed the Japanese Defense Agency’s ( JDA) jurisdiction under his office. Bureaucrats from other government agencies such as the Ministry of Trade and Industry (MITI) were embedded in the JDA to curtail its autonomy and capacity.52 Civilian institutions such as the Cabinet Legislative Bureau were granted powers to interpret the Japanese Constitution to ensure that military-oriented revisionists would not usurp Article 9.53 Although Japan’s ruling elites understood that their political and ideological interests aligned with Washington’s broader strategic goals, the extent to which Tokyo should outsource its security to the US was not shared uniformly among Japanese political elites in the 1950s. Left-wing socialists and right-wing nationalists paradoxically remained dissatisfied with the unequal terms of the 1951 USJapan security treaty. Eventually, Yoshida’s inability to align political cleavages resulted in his replacement with more nationalist conservatives desiring greater foreign policy autonomy and a more earnest revival of a national defense force.

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In 1955, Yoshida’s more conservative rival, Hatoyama Ichiro, merged his party with the Yoshida faction, giving birth to the Liberal Democratic Party. The “1955 system” effectively preserved Japan’s commitment to the US alliance while marginalizing the position of socialists and other opposition parties. At the same time, the ability of opposition parties to maintain at least one-third control of the Diet at any given moment prevented right-wing nationalists from invalidating Article 9. For its part, US officials did their best to prop up pro-American LDP factions with campaign money funneled through the CIA.54 In the late 1950s, the LDP, led by nationalist conservatives, began a push for a more equitable security treaty. US policy makers also acknowledged that the “failure to develop mutuality” threatened to endanger US strategic objectives in the region. The US ambassador to Japan, Douglas MacArthur II (nephew of General Douglas MacArthur), advised Washington to consider a dependable, long-term military security arrangement that “Japan would enter voluntarily.”55 Keenly aware that a strong US-Japan alliance depended on domestic political support, US officials were willing to grant specific concessions—such as the return of US-controlled islands—to address Japanese points of contention in the alliance. As Ambassador MacArthur wrote, “Solutions to these problems are, I believe, not only in our own self-interest in our efforts to align Japan with us and the free world, but also they will strengthen Kishi’s hand domestically in Japan and therefore help him in putting Japan’s domestic house in order.”56 MacArthur’s letter reveals the link between an alliance consensus and domestic politics, suggesting that mutual threats alone were insufficient to maintain a strong alliance relationship.57 The new security treaty reinforced the idea that Japan could safely “leave most of its security affairs in the hands of the United States.”58 The LDP, in its September 1960 platform, stated that the Japan-US security system existed as a means for Japan’s national defense.59 Cultivating institutional and normative constraints, Japanese mainstream pragmatists had consolidated the alliance consensus and, in the process, pacified ultranationalists and alienated left-wing revisionists.60 It was almost taken for granted that the US would “continue to provide Japan with the support it held to be essential” so long as Japan aligned itself with Washington and provided access for US bases.61 Continued high economic growth in the 1960s and 1970s also reinforced the priority of economics, and thus the importance of the US-Japan alliance to address security concerns. Finally, the US nuclear umbrella became the “sine qua non of the nonnuclear principles” with Japan’s declaration of the Three Non-Nuclear Principles in 1967.62 Alliance consensus should not be mistaken for alliance harmony. In addition to trade issues, questions surrounding the reversion of Okinawa to Japan, the Nixon doctrine, and US-Sino rapprochement were specific points of tension in

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the late 1960s and 1970s. Japan’s status as an economic powerhouse in the 1980s coupled with rising anti-Japan sentiment in the US elicited a renewed sense of political nationalism in Japan and tensions in bilateral relations.63 Despite such significant periods of discord, adjustments between Washington and Tokyo have continually brought the alliance back to its default centered on the alliance consensus. Such recalibration took place in 1978 under the Guidelines on US-Japan Defense Cooperation, which committed Japan to a greater level of defense commitment to the alliance by drawing up more concrete contingency plans. Even as Japan pursued a more internationalist agenda under Prime Minister Yashuhiro Nakasone (1982 –1985), Tokyo continued to cooperate closely with the US on security issues through joint military planning, naval exercises, and intelligence gathering.64 A January 1983 editorial published in Mainichi Shimbun summarizes the extent of the alliance consensus among Japanese elites during the final decade of the Cold War: “Recognition has taken root among the Japanese that Japan-US relations are the cornerstone of Japan’s diplomacy. . . . And the fact that Japan and the US are bound by the Japan-US Security Treaty has come to gain the support of many Japanese.”65 Beyond threat perceptions, the consensus in support of the US-Japan alliance had become ingrained in the very ideas and institutions central to Japan’s security policy. Japanese leaders learned to embrace the alliance as a key pillar to their national defense. By the end of the Cold War, the idea of a US-Japan alliance had become a natural extension, if not a routine part, of Japanese domestic politics. As one Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) official in the 1980s argued: “The recognition of the importance of the Japan-US relationship now enjoys such broad public support that the opposition parties to the LDP are finding it increasingly difficult to challenge the existing framework of the relations. . . . [T]here is within the LDP a built-in mechanism as it were, which would not allow a deterioration or a drift in that vital relationship beyond a certain point.”66 In particular, opposition parties, in an effort to build a coalition government that would elevate their position of power in the Diet, adjusted their policies in a more realist direction.67 When a new window of opportunity to implement an internationalist agenda opened with the collapse of the Cold War, however, Tokyo continued to place the US-Japan alliance at the center of its foreign policy even as it sought new multilateral initiatives in the Asia-Pacific.

US–South Korea Alliance The alliance consensus underpinning US bilateral ties in South Korea in many respects paralleled the sentiment of Philippine and Japanese elites who also

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d­ epended on the US for external security and internal political stability. In Cairo and Yalta, the Allied powers discussed the possibility of a multicountry trusteeship over Korea. However, US policy makers expressed doubt over whether a trusteeship would provide the United States sufficient influence in postwar Korea.68 As US allies debated trusteeship, American postwar planners privately raised the specter of full military occupation. President Roosevelt believed that the Korean people would “need an apprenticeship of up to forty years to compensate for a limited experience in self-government.”69 Such sentiments were consistent with the attitude of other US policy makers toward Asian governments in the immediate postwar period.70 The United States and the Soviet Union hastily divided the Korean Peninsula across the thirty-eighth parallel, establishing their respective spheres of influence in the south and north. Although Korean leftists and rightists battled for political control in the immediate aftermath of Japanese “liberation,” the US occupation of the south heavily dictated the trajectory of South Korean security politics. Within the first weeks of trusteeship, the US decided to support a class of slightly older, better-educated conservatives who opposed leftists and remained committed to anticommunism.71 Their presence constituted “the most encouraging single factor of Korea’s current political situation” for the US Army Military Government in Korea (USAMGIK).72 US policy makers played an active role in propping the “right” leaders to pursue their broader political and strategic objectives. As one political adviser recommended to the State Department, “We should commence to use some progressive, popular, and respected leader or small group to act as a nucleus of an organization which in cooperation with and under the direction of our military government could develop into an executive and administrative governmental agency.”73 US military advisers worked with Korean political groups with “considerable success” as nationalist Korean leaders agreed to dissolve the provisional government and “to cooperate with efforts to form a united group” with USAMGIK.74 The US looked toward two exiled nationalists, Syngman Rhee and Kim Ku, to head the provisional government in South Korea. Of the two, the Princetoneducated Rhee was deemed to have more of an “American point of view” than Ku and others who had remained politically active in China during Korea’s colonial period. Additionally, Rhee had ties to the Office of Strategic Services and received support from General MacArthur in Japan.75 Although disliked by some officials in the State Department, Rhee’s pro-American and anticommunist credentials helped him secure his seat as president of the First Republic of Korea

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(ROK) in 1948. In short, the US military occupation sowed the seeds of an alliance consensus even before the birth of the ROK. At first blush, security requirements and economic needs suffice to explain South Korea’s dependence on the US. As highlighted in other US bilateral alliances in Asia, however, domestic politics and anticommunist ideology also played a major role in the formation of the alliance consensus. The ability to work with Americans served as a major criterion for selecting key government posts and many of Rhee’s cabinet appointees were either US-educated or had ties to the US. The United States acted as “Rhee’s primary intellectual and psychological reference. . . . As a result, Rhee was greatly responsible for the dependency that South Korea allowed itself to develop in its relations with the United States.”76 It comes as no surprise, then, that the alliance consensus forged among the ranks of South Korean ruling elites was built around anticommunist ideology. Between 1945 and the outbreak of the Korean War in 1950, rightist forces in South Korea vigorously suppressed the left using the communist label to destroy political opposition and arrest detractors critical of the government’s pro-American stance. South Korean elites relied heavily on US political support, but the importance of US-ROK relations was not widely shared in Washington. Despite US efforts to shape the political trajectory of South Korea, the Korean Peninsula remained outside the infamous “Acheson security line” that demarked the United States’ defense perimeter in the Far East. In fact, US forces had withdrawn from Korea by the end of 1949, leaving only a few hundred military advisers behind. President Rhee’s request for greater US involvement in defending his fledgling country fell on deaf years. The Korean War changed the fate of US-ROK relations in two major ways. First, by altering perceptions of the communist threat in Asia, the war strengthened Washington’s resolve in the region. Second, and more germane to the alliance consensus, the devastating Korean War carried far-reaching consequences for South Korean national security policy, ensured by the “blood alliance” forged with the United States. As Lee and Sato argue, “The war transformed South ­Korea into a thoroughly penetrated, internationalized polity— one whose domestic affairs intertwined with its external environments.”77 Now seen as an important fault line in the Cold War, the US committed vast sums of economic aid and military support to South Korea. At the center of a newfound alliance consensus was the 1953 Mutual Defense Treaty, which included provisions for the US to retain its military bases in South Korea. Although the patron-client relationship at times grated against the sensibilities of South Korean political leaders, they understood that their own security

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and survival remained attached to the US-ROK alliance. During the war, the United States assumed all major responsibilities central to South Korea’s defense. Strategic planning, operational control, military training, logistics, and provision of war materials were all primarily conducted by the United States.78 It comes as no surprise, then, that after the war, US and Korean policy makers would institutionalize US control over South Korea’s security apparatus under the United Nations Command. More concretely, the US military retained operational control over South Korean forces. Korean officers were conspicuously absent in the UN Command. Only in the late 1960s did US and South Korean forces make an effort to conduct joint operational planning. The Combined Forces Command would not exist for another decade, and even then, operational control was still ultimately in the hands of the United States Forces Korea (USFK) commander until the 1990s. The threat of communism, or more specifically, the North Korean threat, meant that external threat perceptions were experienced much more acutely in South Korea than in any other US allied country. The Korean War cemented the image of North Korea as enemy number one among South Korean elites. The North Korean threat was maintained through daily bombardment of anticommunist propaganda and through national education: elementary school primers, even up until the 1980s, featured pictures of North Koreans with devil horns. Kidnappings, terrorist attacks, assassinations, and infiltration through tunnels dug underneath the demilitarized zone acted as periodic reminders to South Koreans about the looming North Korean threat. To combat such threats and reinforce their own domestic position, the South Korean government vigorously enforced the National Security Law (NSL) and maintained close ties to the United States. Interpreted broadly, the NSL outlawed communism and made it illegal for Koreans to publicly criticize the US military and the US-ROK alliance. Such institutional measures reinforced the alliance consensus in the minds of Koreans. As in Japan and the Philippines, the alliance consensus linked domestic politics with South Korean foreign policy making. Dissatisfaction with Rhee’s autocratic reign finally caught up to him in March 1960. The eighty-five-year-old ruler faced mass protests after winning an improbable 90 percent of all votes in the 1960 elections.79 With unrest and violence escalating into April, US officials paid Rhee a visit to persuade him to resign. Several days later, Rhee departed for Hawaii, making way for a new government headed by Chang Myon, a former ROK ambassador to the United States. The Second Republic lasted less than one year, overrun by a military coup led by Park Chung Hee in May 1961. Still reliant on Washington, the US remained curiously absent throughout the coup. US policy makers took a largely hands-

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off approach even though they suspected the possibility of a coup.80 US officials waited two months after the coup before meeting with Park in July 1961. Ambassador Samuel Berger urged Park to return to democratic rule. Park understood that his own ability to consolidate domestic control and stability rested on positive relations with Washington. Therefore, Park accommodated most of Berger’s requests including a public pledge in August 1961 to restore South Korean demo­ cracy. In return, Berger secured an invitation for Park to visit Washington in November. After the Washington visit, Ambassador Berger sent a letter to Secretary of State Dean Rusk praising Park’s ability to “keep the revolution on the path of decency and moderation” and acting as the “most important link between the government and the people” in providing political stability. Linking the alliance consensus to domestic politics, Berger wrote: “The public support given [to] the military government by the United States and the friendly reception of Park during his visit to the United States have, however, been perhaps the decisive factors in stabilizing the situation. One Korean put it to me in a sentence, ‘Since the United States is impressed with Park, we Koreans value him more.’”81 Credit must be given to Park for managing a coup without Washington pulling the rug from underneath. Park managed to buy time to shore up domestic support and improve his standing with Washington by delaying elections and the return to civilian rule until 1963. Washington in turn was careful not to undermine Park’s ability to govern, placing a priority on political stability and economic development. With Park’s survival at stake, the United States “believed it necessary to tone down its political pressure and, if possible, compromise with the military junta.”82 Even after Park transitioned to civilian rule, the ROK government continued to seek domestic and international legitimacy by way of US alliance support. In a September 1964 letter to George Bundy, then assistant secretary of state for Far Eastern affairs, the US ambassador wrote: “The Koreans would no doubt seek to gain reaffirmation of the US commitment here. Moreover, President Park will hope to use his visit to demonstrate US acceptance of his government and himself. He can use such a vote of confidence and we are disposed to grant it in the interest of confirming our support for constitutionalism.”83 Ever paranoid about the possibility of US troop withdrawals, South Korean elites continually sought security guarantees from Washington. This paranoia in South Korea would become a recurring theme during the Nixon and Carter administrations, both of which advocated force reductions on the Korean Peninsula. The assassination of President Park would require the Chun Doo-Hwan regime to rely even more on Washington’s support to maintain its international legitimacy, even as opposition movements linked the May 1980 crackdown of citizens in Kwangju to the

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United States. Under dictatorship or democracy, an alliance consensus in support of US-ROK relations by South Korea’s ruling elite would continue to persist well beyond the Cold War. The consensus favoring strong alliance ties between Seoul and Washington may have originated from the North Korean threat. But the consensus itself became very much intertwined with South Korean domestic politics, strengthened by anticommunist ideology and domestic security institutions. This in turn generated self-reinforcing mechanisms that tied the political interests (if not the fate) of South Korean elites to the US-ROK alliance. Little doubt existed regarding the importance of the US-ROK alliance for South Korean politics—the alliance had become an integral component for that nation’s foreign policy and security practice. South Koreans on occasion attempted to cultivate their own security initiatives including the development of nuclear weapons. But even calls for selfreliance were more a reflection of Seoul’s fear of alliance abandonment rather than a desire to break free from the US security umbrella.

US-Australia Alliance In the United States, US relations with Australia have often been overshadowed by bilateral alliances in Northeast Asia. US strategic priorities in Asia have traditionally focused on the Northeast subregion. Moreover, Australia never hosted a large contingent of permanent US forces as in South Korea or Japan. Washington’s alliance with Canberra was also in the form of a trilateral (rather than bilateral) defense treaty with New Zealand. That the US-Australia relationship may appear less central to Washington relative to other spokes in Northeast Asia does not diminish the importance of the alliance relationship from the perspective of Canberra. As historians Joseph Siracusa and David Coleman state, “Whatever government in power, for more than fifty years the primary goal of Australian foreign policy has been to keep the US engaged in the region as the ultimate guarantor of Australian security.”84 This view on Australian-US relations is shared by other Australian experts such as Coral Bell, who argued that all prime minister’s in the postwar period “assign[ed] high value to the alliance with the United States” when evaluating Australia’s national interests.85 Hence, the United States “has been highly visible for Australia” and remains “at the center of Australian preoccupations.”86 One might dismiss such statements as diplomatic boilerplate language for alliances. However, they do provoke further questions for reflection. In particular, when and how did Australian political leaders come to view their relationship with the United States as a centerpiece to their foreign policy and defense strategy? After all, as part of the British Commonwealth, Australia’s defense was un-

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conditionally tied to that of Great Britain for much of its early existence. As with other US bilateral alliances in the Pacific, I argue that the confluence of strategic threats, anticommunist ideology, and domestic institutions helped reinforce support for US-Australian relations in Canberra. Strategic alliances are often forged on the basis of hard-nosed realist calculations. Yet in certain respects, the United States and Australia, two former British colonies, appeared destined to align with one another as US power expanded to the Pacific by the end of the nineteenth century. During this period, the Australian political left, resistant to the British monarch, conjured romanticized views of the United States as a free and equal society, one that had rejected the establishment. Meanwhile, Australians on the political right, composed of largely businesspeople and farmers, found more in common with American Republicans in their support for smaller government and states’ rights than with the British Tories.87 Fate and strategy symbolically aligned in 1908 when the US Navy’s Great White Fleet made port in Sydney. As one journalist wrote in the Sydney Morning Herald: “When the fleet entered the Pacific we remarked that the center of gravity of sea-power had changed. . . . It is likely enough that America may be the first line of defense against Asia.”88 If this account foreshadowed the shift in Australia’s strategic realignment from Great Britain to the United States, by World War II, the Australians made the shift public. Great Britain’s defeat in Asia at the outset of World War II stunned Canberra and encouraged the Australians to look for a new “great and powerful friend” across the Pacific. Writing in the Melbourne Herald, Prime Minister John Curtin wrote: “Without any inhibitions of any kind, I make it quite clear that Australia looks to America, free of any pangs as to our traditional links or kinship with the United Kingdom. . . . We are therefore determined that Australia shall not go, and we shall exert all our energies to the shaping of a plan with the United States as its keystone which will give to our country some confidence of being able to hold out.”89 Australia depended on US power throughout World War II. The Australian military ceded its operational control to the Supreme Allied Commander in the Pacific, General Douglas MacArthur, and permitted the US to establish its campaign headquarters and several bases on its soil. After the war, relations between Canberra and Washington were at times marked by ambivalence.90 However, the Korean War provided leaders with greater strategic clarity. China’s entry into the Korean conflict motivated Canberra to strengthen security ties to Washington. These ties were formalized under the Australia, New Zealand, United States Security Treaty (known as the ANZUS Treaty) in 1951 as well as the Southeast Treaty Organization (SEATO) in 1954.

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Similar to other US treaty alliances in Asia, the ANZUS Treaty was largely an American-led security initiative. However, State Department memos suggest that Australia managed to exercise its diplomatic leverage as well. The ANZUS Treaty was offered in part as a quid pro quo to Australia in return for Canberra’s support for what was perceived as a lenient US-Japan Security Treaty exonerating the Japanese from the destructive Pacific War.91 In an effort to win over Canberra, the assistant secretary of state for Europe wrote to John Foster Dulles in January 1951, “We believe unless some form of a closer relationship satisfying Australia is provided for, we will not get the backing from them for the type of peace treaty with Japan which we want.”92 What declassified documents reveal is a somewhat reluctant State Department negotiating a tripartite pact with Australia and New Zealand as a necessary step in winning Australian diplomatic support for a possible Japanese rearmament. Australian ambassador to the United States Percy Spender argued that the Australians still “harbored a profound distrust of Japan.” But equally as important, Australians feared the “obvious danger of aggressive communist imperialism” punctuated by the events of the Korean War.93 The formalization of the alliance helped further institutionalize US-Australia relations. By the early 1960s, Canberra sought new defense procurements from Washington rather than London to improve the interoperability of weapons systems. The two countries also upgraded intelligence sharing and cooperation. Finally, Australia permitted the US to build radar and surveillance installations on Australian soil, thus providing logistical support for US nuclear strategy.94 US-Australia relations reached a high point as the US escalated its involvement in Vietnam. Here we find support for an alliance consensus among Australian elites embedded in a combination of strategic threats, anticommunist ideology, and domestic electoral politics. This consensus translated to Australia’s willingness to contribute to America’s war in Vietnam. Responding to President Johnson’s request for greater international support for Vietnam, a Department of External Affairs official claimed, “Our objective should be to achieve such a habitual closeness of relations with the United States and sense of mutual alliance that in our time of need the US would have little option but to respond as we would want.”95 The response amounted to an opportunistic calculation on the part of Canberra; Australian support would help secure assistance from Washington on Australian foreign policy concerns (most immediately Indonesia’s growing ties to China). Yet the statement also revealed the extent to which the United States played a key role in Australian foreign and defense policy. The centrality of ­ANZUS and the paranoia of communism in Asia were further illustrated in a government report reflecting the views of high level Australian officials as well as some career diplomats:

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The basic concept behind the Australian action was that of forward defense. This rested in turn on a belief in the fundamental strategic importance in Australia’s defense of the Southeast Asia area, and on the necessity to prevent the spread of communism and political instability in the area. Given Australia’s military weakness, this policy had to depend for success on membership in ANZUS and SEATO, and above all on the presence of the United States in the area. On this end it was Australia’s aim to ensure that the United States did not waver in its commitment to Southeast Asia, and to support the American presence politically, diplomatically, and if necessarily, military.96

On the basis of a judgment that “reflected grass-roots as well as Establishment opinion of the period,” Australia initially committed one battalion to Vietnam. This would be followed by four successive increases in Australian troops between August 1965 and October 1967.97 At its peak, Australia committed eight thousand troops to the Vietnam cause.98 The Liberal Party’s activist foreign policy in Vietnam received widespread domestic support under Robert Menzies and his successor, Harold Holt. Support for the war stretched from centrists in the Labor Party to the right-wing Democratic Labor Party. This covered public opinion representing approximately 70 percent of the political spectrum.99 In the 1970s, US-Australia relations experienced a period of friction and adjustment following Nixon’s Guam doctrine and the gradual reduction of US troops in Asia. Elite support for the Vietnam War also began to wane. One might have expected even greater tensions given the Labor Party’s rise to power in 1972 (after twenty-three years out of office) when faced against the backdrop of ­Nixon’s conservative agenda in Washington. However, both sides still found consensus on major foreign policy issues, most notably an easing of tensions with Beijing and ending the Vietnam War. The two chief issues requiring bilateral discussion in the mid-1970s, Indonesia’s absorption of East Timor and US military bases in Australia, produced relatively little contention. In 1978, the Australian government, then under John Fraser’s Liberal Party rule, even encouraged the US to expand its strategic interests in the Asia-Pacific. More specifically, the Fraser government sought to reinterpret the ANZUS treaty to cover Australian interests and territories in the Indian Ocean.100 Under Robert Hawke’s Labor Party rule, Canberra continued to support USAustralia relations throughout the ANZUS crisis, triggered by New Zealand’s refusal to permit US nuclear-powered ships from entering its port. The diplomatic crisis that ensued did not change Australia’s strategic position or attitude toward Washington, despite the US suspension of its security guarantee to New Zealand. In fact, Prime Minister Hawke disapproved and expressed displeasure with Wellington’s nuclear stance and its repercussion toward ANZUS.101

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Although foreign policy differences between the Labor and Liberal parties appeared on the surface, on substantive matters such as the US alliance, a strong degree of bipartisanship had developed. As Coral Bell stated at the end of the Cold War, it would be fair to argue that “no Australian prime minister has seriously envisaged discarding or even renegotiating [the US-Australia alliance], and it has stood for more than forty years as Australia’s major security mechanism.”102 In both Canberra and Washington, however, the alliance had become internalized. Contestation over policy issues could become routine without producing major fluctuations or crises in the alliance. Although the direction of US-Australia relations was openly debated in the 1990s, an elite consensus supporting the alliance persisted in Canberra and Washington.

US-Thailand Relations Among the different spokes in the US bilateral alliance system, the alliance consensus operated most thinly in US-Thai relations. Although strategic interests have kept Bangkok and Washington aligned, frequent domestic instability has made it more difficult to sustain higher levels of cooperation between the two governments. Nevertheless, US-Thai relations that emerged during the early Cold War period have had a lasting impact on both nations’ regional security outlook. US-Thai relations emerged from World War II on a strong footing. In contrast to the British and French, who extracted heavy reparations from Thailand, the US acted as an arbiter, encouraging other European powers to reduce their demands.103 The US also backed Field Marshal Plaek Phibunsongkhram’s (Phibun) return to power following the 1947 coup, despite the former prime minister having once declared war against the United States during the Japanese occupation period.104 Phibun’s staunch anticommunism and conservative background helped him win over US support.105 Thailand briefly flirted with the Non-Aligned Movement from 1947 to 1949. But the Royal Thai Government (RTG) never fully embraced the neutralist position. The growth of independent movements associated with communism such as the Vietminh in Indochina were seen as a greater threat to Thai independence and the conservative political order of Thailand’s ruling elites.106 Thai leaders therefore sided with the United States, first informally by backing the Frenchsponsored Bao Dai government in Vietnam in 1950, and more formally by joining SEATO in 1954. To strengthen the Phibun government against both internal and external communist opponents, the US signed three separate agreements with Thailand in 1950 in the areas of education and culture, economic and technical cooperation,

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and military assistance.107 The military agreement, signed on October 17, 1950, significantly enhanced Thai military capabilities. In the course of the following year, the US provided twenty-seven shipments of arms to equip ten army battalions. The US also supplied fighter jets and naval vessels and provided military training through the Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG).108 In his study on US-Thai relations, Daniel Fineman argues that from early 1950, “the Thai leadership established itself as a loyal client willing to follow the United States.”109 By openly aligning with Washington, Thailand’s rulers had “implicitly registered their belief that the United States was the only nation capable of protecting them against communist aggression. . . . It therefore became a central objective of Thai foreign policy to obtain the firmest possible American guarantee of Thailand’s security.”110 US concerns in Southeast Asia converged with Thailand’s growing insecurity. Threat perceptions heightened following France’s defeat in Indochina, leaving the impression of an expanding communist network emanating from China to Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia.111 Thailand’s role in the organization of SEATO is telling of the emerging alliance consensus forged among Thai elites in the 1950s and their early commitment to US-Thai security relations. Before SEATO, the Phibun government responded favorably to Dulles’s proposal for United Action—an ad hoc coalition of anticommunist states—which predated the Manila Pact.112 British and French opposition to United Action ended Dulles’ first attempt in forging an anticommunist union for Southeast Asia. However, the Eisenhower administration continued to place Thailand at the center of any potential defensive arrangement. At one point, Dulles suggested to JCS Chairman Arthur Radford the formation of a “mutual defense treaty with Thailand which might be open-ended to permit other adherents and which might provide for the stationing of a detachment of US troops.”113 Dulles never formally approached Bangkok with plans to establish a bilateral treaty, and the idea itself may have amounted to nothing more than a coercive bargaining tactic against Vietnam and China in Geneva. Indeed, over the course of the Geneva negotiations, the US scaled back its security ambitions for Thailand. This did not deter Thai efforts to continue pressing the US for greater security commitments. During negotiations over the Manila Pact, Thai officials sought to limit membership to maximize unity among member states. Thai delegates also pushed for the establishment of a permanent joint military force under a unified command.114 In short, Thai elites “endeavored to obtain the strongest treaty possible,” essentially hoping for an Asian version of NATO.115 Thai leaders were ultimately disappointed with SEATO’s arrangement, which lacked the same levels of military commitment as NATO. Nevertheless, the Thai

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government made the most of the watered down treaty, choosing to “interpret the Manila Pact as encompassing a bilateral US security commitment to Thailand.”116 SEATO also provided the Phibun regime with domestic cover, justifying his unequivocal support for US-Thai relations as support for multilateralism. In this regard, SEATO helped deflect criticism from the political left while still allowing the Phibun regime to reap benefits from greater US commitment to Thai security. Bangkok’s demand for greater US commitment toward Thai defense at times placed strains on the alliance. This was witnessed during the Laotian crisis that was brewing in 1960. Whereas France and Great Britain desired a neutral Laos under a coalition government comprised of leftist and rights forces, Thailand pushed for military intervention and a staunchly anticommunist Laotian government. A mildly worded US statement opposing communist groups in Laos disappointed the Thai leaders. Questions once again lingered in Bangkok regarding US commitment to Thai defense. To some degree, alliance friction was inevitable given the varying interests of the two powers. The US, as a regional and global power, could not pursue military intervention without considering the ripple effects such actions might play on Chinese and Soviet perceptions. Although the US carried marginal interests in protecting Laos, US security was not yet directly threatened. In contrast, the Laotian crisis directly threatened Thailand security, if not the very survival of the Thai government. Thai leaders realized they could not rely on SEATO given policy disagreements between the US and Great Britain and France. They ultimately looked toward the United States to guarantee Thai security.117 Thailand’s persistent demands for greater security guarantees finally paid off in 1962 with the signing of the Rusk-Thanat communiqué. The communiqué operated as the “single most important document in postwar US-Thai relations and . . . in effect, constituted a bilateralization of SEATO’s multilateral defense commitment, creating, on a de facto basis, an indirect bilateral defense agreement between Thailand and the United States.”118 If the earlier conflict in Laos helped lock in the Thai-US security relationship, it was the Vietnam War that bolstered Washington’s need for Thai support. Basing access, intelligence outposts, and rest and recreation areas in Thailand all serviced the US military.119 The fifty thousand US troops deployed to Thailand were not intended to deepen US commitment to Thailand beyond the Manila Pact and the Rusk-Thanat communiqué. But their presence signaled a degree of resolve in US-Thai relations while deterring communist activity outside Thailand’s borders from spreading into the country. As a sign of support, and as a means of negotiating additional military aid, Thailand contributed eleven thousand troops to

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Vietnam.120 Development and security programs flourished in Thailand during the 1960s with increased funding from USAID, the CIA, and the US Information Agency (USIA). A major increase in US military assistance to Thailand accounted for one-third of Thailand’s defense budget during this period.121 The alliance consensus was in full operation by the time of the Vietnam War. Support for the alliance was shared across the political spectrum. As Sean Randolph argues: “The vast majority of politically articulate Thais held approximately the same views [as policy makers] and could be accurately described as strongly anti-communist and pro-American. . . . Supported by this broad consensus within the more politically aware segments of Thai society, the Thai government lent its full and open support of American policies and objectives in Southeast Asia.”122 Although frequently confronted with the threat of coups and external communist threats, the alliance consensus from 1951 to the height of the Vietnam War in 1968 remained among the more stable elements of Thai domestic politics. Thai support for the US continued even with the rise and fall of different leaders during political coups. This is attested by Field Marshal Phibun’s overthrow of Prime Minister Pridi in 1947. Likewise, the overthrow of Phibun in 1957 in favor of Sarat Thannarat changed little in the way of Thai foreign policy or the Thai government’s attitude toward the United States. The coup-proofing tactic of doubling military leaders in the Supreme Command with civilian positions, including that of prime minister, deputy prime minster, and defense minister, also helped sustain a high degree of alliance consensus among Thai elites. Although the Vietnam War initially provided a boon to US-Thai relations, the fundamental disjuncture between the two countries finally caught wind in 1969. The US looked to Thailand as a means of fulfilling short-term military requirements in Vietnam without deepening its security commitment to Thailand. In contrast, Thailand hoped for a long-term defense commitment from Washington beyond the scope of the Vietnam War. As the Vietnam conflict stalled, Thanat and others in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs read the writing on the wall and began steering Thai foreign policy toward a more independent posture. Thanat pursued three specific foreign policy goals. First, he called on the withdrawal of US forces from Thailand. Second, he sought rapprochement with Beijing. Third, he promoted regional institutions such as ASEAN to counterbalance communist expansion.123 A brief period of democratization in 1968 strengthened the influence of Thanat and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The unveiling of a new constitution brought about parliamentary democracy, giving civilian bureaucracies greater voice in the policy making process. This had the effect of eroding the alliance consensus sustained the previous two decades by Thailand’s military leaders. Whereas the Thai

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military continued to treat the US-Thai alliance as the best antidote against communism, Thanat strived for greater flexibility and more independence from the US. Even after the reinstatement of military rule in 1971 following another coup, the consensus forged in favor of the US-Thai alliance would never reach levels of the first two decades of the Cold War. Accordingly, shifts in US foreign policy required Thai leaders to readjust their own position. Nixon’s visit to Beijing in 1972, the Paris Peace Accords in 1973 ending the Vietnam conflict, and a decline in US military aid signaled even to the military that the golden era of US-Thai relations had come to an end. Paradoxically, Washington’s foreign policy shift in Asia helped Thailand pursue a more independent orientation without facing strong backlash from the United States. Thai elites in the foreign ministry, the military, and the cabinet managed to maintain their security ties to the US, which strengthened again under the Reagan administration.124 But in contrast to some other Asian bilateral partners for whom the US alliance had become more firmly rooted in the institutions and foreign policy ideas of political elites, the alliance consensus in Thailand remained thin. The consensus was built more on threat perceptions magnified by anticommunist ideology. Frequent domestic political shifts and the inability to institutionalize alliance commitments and basing rights likely weakened the consensus among Thai elites. The earlier trajectory of US-Thai bilateral relations would have some bearing in the later post–Cold War era. Thailand would continue to cooperate with the US on regional security issues, but the commitment and value placed on the alliance would qualitatively differ from that of other US allied Asian countries.

ASEAN and Multilateralism US bilateral alliances dominated Asia’s Cold War regional architecture. The few multilateral organizations that emerged, such as SEATO, and regional economic initiatives such as the Asia Pacific Sphere of Cooperation (ASPC) and the Pacific Trade and Development Conference (PAFTD), either failed or remained peripheral to regional policy debates. One of the few Cold War multilateral institutions that did succeed, however, was the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN).125 ASEAN’s influence was largely limited to the subregion from its inception to the end of the Cold War. However, ASEAN would have a major bearing on Asia’s post–Cold War institutional trajectory. Briefly highlighting the origins of ASEAN in this chapter will help us understand how earlier institutional choices shaped policy outcomes that are discussed in subsequent chapters.126 The prospects for regional institution building were particularly bleak in Southeast Asia. As Amitav Acharya writes, “The political, economic, and stra-

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tegic conditions in Southeast Asia remained substantially unfavorable to regional cooperation during the first two decades of the postwar period.”127 Nationalism, great power intervention, intraregional conflict, differing regime types, and religious diversity complicated early multilateral efforts. Despite difficult conditions, policy makers did at least make an effort to establish multilateral initiatives for the region. As mentioned earlier, the US built SEATO in 1954 to bolster regional defense for noncommunist Asian countries. Unable to match the security guarantees of bilateral alliances, however, the organization faced a credibility gap between Western sponsors and Asian partners through much of its existence. Meanwhile, Southeast Asians attempted to build indigenous regional groupings from the early 1960s. Two short-lived initiatives included the Association of Southeast Asia (ASA), comprising Thailand, Malaysia, and the Philippines, and MAPHILINDO, which united Malaysia, Philippines, and Indonesia by way of Malay ethnic lines. Although both organizations folded before the end of the decade, they were in certain respects a precursor to ASEAN.128 On August 8, 1967, representatives from five Southeast Asian nations—­ Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, Philippines, and Singapore—signed the Bangkok Declaration, giving birth to ASEAN. The aims of the organization were comprehensive. ASEAN purported to strengthen collaboration on a wide range of issues, including economics, technology, trade, transportation, communication, peace and security, and education.129 In light of previous failed attempts at regionalism, ASEAN scholar Alice Ba raises a pivotal question: “Why ASEAN and why 1967?” For Ba, a shift in both domestic and international conditions in the mid-1960s provided a window of opportunity for advocates of Asian regionalism to establish an indigenous multilateral organization. In particular, the ouster of President Sukarno in Indonesia and the rise of Marcos in the Philippines, coupled with reduced commitments from Great Britain and America’s involvement in Vietnam, helped align interests and ideas in favor of a new regional institution.130 Although not a security institution per se, ASEAN diverged from its immediate predecessors by offering basic principles behind security cooperation. The principles of consensus and nonintervention have already been cited. A third element, however, was a focus on the lower bar of conflict reduction rather than conflict resolution.131 Beyond these principles, Acharya states that ASEAN “organized and represented a microcosm of what might be called Asia’s proto-­ multilateralism in regional security affairs . . . a regionalism bereft of the formal commitments or mechanisms of collective security or collective organizations, and marked by features that suggested basic continuities with the normative ideas and outcomes of Asia’s earlier regionalist interaction.”132

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In hindsight, it is easy to trace the roots of Asian regionalism to ASEAN. However, for much of the Cold War, ASEAN had little bearing on the conduct of Asian international relations, particularly outside of the Southeast Asia subregion. ASEAN’s progress moved at a snail’s pace in its first two decades. For instance, ASEAN leaders did not hold their first summit meeting until 1976 in Bali, Indonesia—nine years after the establishment of ASEAN. Only then did policy makers decide to codify ASEAN’s principles through the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation. The second ASEAN summit took place in 1977, but tensions between Malaysia and the Philippines prevented ASEAN from holding a third summit until 1987. An ASEAN leaders meeting did not convene on a regular basis until 1992, when it was decided that the summit would be held every three years.133 Meanwhile, ASEAN’s early efforts at economic cooperation were minimal. The ASEAN Preferential Trading Arrangements (PTA) signed in 1977 outlined at best a modest trade liberalization agenda. Beyond this, other ASEAN economic initiatives achieved few results until after the Cold War.134 Finally, ASEAN membership for much of the Cold War was limited to the original five members. Brunei joined in 1984, but the remaining four countries—Vietnam, Laos, Myanmar, and Cambodia—would not join until the 1990s. Although the Bangkok Declaration established lofty goals for ASEAN, in reality, it remained a weak and at times dysfunctional organization mired by internal conflict. While ASEAN helped foster new ideas about regionalism, its actions remained limited in scope. The point is not to denigrate the value of ASEAN—an institution hailed today as Asia’s most successful multilateral institution—but to establish the fact that bilateralism remained the dominant institutional framework in Cold War Asia. US policy makers were not opposed to ASEAN, nor did they deem such regional initiatives as competing with the hub-and-spokes system. Quite the contrary, policy makers in Washington welcomed any indigenous regional institution that adopted an anticommunist stance. As National Security Council members advised Secretary of State Henry Kissinger on September 11, 1975, the US should remain the “permanent friend and preferred power of the ASEAN states” and provide more visible, public support for ASEAN to “boost the confidence and morale of ASEAN states.”135 Conversely, several ASEAN states were looking to the United States to play a “discreet, but active role” in countering the communist threat in Indochina following the Vietnam War.136 Hence there was no inherent reason for the US or other hub-and-spokes actors to block ASEAN’s emergence. ASEAN existed as a weak multilateral institution within a broad bilateral institutional framework in Cold War Asia. ASEAN would drift (to use a

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term from historical institutionalism) for the following few decades as a subregional organization but, as argued in the next chapter, would play an important role in the development of Asia’s institutional architecture.

Conclusion The hub-and-spokes system emerged from the Cold War, stemming from mutual threats experienced by Asian elites and Washington policy makers. Following a balance-of-threat logic, the specter of communism within and outside state borders enabled bilateral alliances to persist throughout the entirety of the Cold War. A simple balancing logic elegantly explains the endurance of the hub-andspokes system in Asia. However, this logic also oversimplifies alliance politics and glosses over the domestic tensions and struggles that took place within each huband-spokes relationship. Some alliances did experience a downturn as threat perceptions began to subside during the latter half of the Cold War. At times, US alliances faced domestic opposition from even its closest Asian alliance partners such as Japan. Moving beyond threat perceptions, however, a key argument established in this chapter is the consensus built among ruling elites in Asia in support of US alliances. In several allied countries, political elites relied heavily on the United States for internal stability, regime legitimacy, and external security. Following a historical institutional logic, over time, alliance institutions generated positive returns, both in the form of providing regional security and in shoring up the authority of domestic political leaders. For Asian alliance partners, the US alliance had become a natural extension of their domestic security apparatus (if not treated as a de facto domestic security institution in itself ) and an integral part of their external security strategy. In more extreme cases such as the US-Japan alliance, in which Tokyo relied almost exclusively on the US security umbrella, or the US–South Korea alliance, which ceded South Korean operational control to the US military, the alliance itself was woven into the fabric of domestic security structures. In time, bilateral alliances took on a “routine” quality in that ruling elites rarely challenged the substantive nature of US alliances. Policy makers in Asia certainly questioned specific alliance-related policies. At times they criticized the US for cheap political gain. But in countries where the alliance consensus remained strongest, only those on the political fringes advocated the termination of bilateral alliances. The choice of bilateralism in the early years of the Cold War initiated a pathdependent trajectory for each individual alliance—albeit with some variation in the degree of alliance consensus shared among each nation’s political elites—and

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for the regional architecture as a whole. Sunk costs, positive feedback loops, and network ties generated self-reinforcing mechanisms in support of bilateral alliances making it harder to diverge from this initial path. Regarding security issues in particular, actors faced increasing costs of reversal over time as domestic elites in the US and in Asian capitals adapted their behavior in ways that both reflected and reinforced bilateralism. The decisions and actions of policy makers throughout the Cold War—whether intentionally or unintentionally— ­collectively strengthened the institutional and ideational foundations of bilateralism to withstand exogenous shocks to the system. Widespread support for bilateralism would therefore persist even after the collapse of the Cold War order and have a bearing on the future trajectory of East Asia’s institutional architecture. From a historical institutional vantage point, an alliance consensus rooted in ideas and institutions would provide US bilateral alliances a greater degree of resilience in the face of crisis and exogenous shocks—an argument raised in the first proposition of Chapter 1. As the next chapter demonstrates, rising regionalism would eventually create new demands for multilateral institutions in Asia. Yet as suggested in the previous chapter, where the alliance consensus remained strong, political elites were more cautious not to adopt new measures which would undermine bilateralism. Although some scholars predicted that Asia’s new multilateralism would gradually supplant the need for bilateral alliances, the proliferation of such regional organizations did not reduce the relevance of bilateralism. Instead, they coexisted with, and in many instances complemented, the hub-and-spokes system.

3

Change and Continuity: 1989 –1997

Despite the collapse of the Cold War bipolar structure in 1991, the strategic outlook in East Asia remained relatively unchanged.1 Whereas communist regimes in Eastern Europe toppled under pressure from mass protests, the Chinese Communist Party bucked the trend by crushing student-led movements in 1989. Communism also persisted in Vietnam, Laos, and North Korea. Cold War tensions continued across the Taiwan Strait and the Korean Peninsula. Unsurprisingly, US forces experienced only limited troop cuts in Asia, in contrast to major downsizing in Europe. The end of the Cold War did open channels for increased interaction and new forms of regional engagement in Asia. However, to treat the end of the Cold War as the exogenous shock instigating change in the regional architecture oversells the critical juncture thesis.2 As argued in the preceding chapter, an alliance consensus rooted in threat perceptions, anticommunist ideology, and domestic institutions had formed among foreign policy elites in Washington and in Asian capitals in support of bilateralism. Although policy makers needed to recalibrate, and in some cases transform bilateral alliances to new domestic and strategic contexts, the alliance consensus ensured that the hub-and-spokes system would remain relevant beyond the Cold War. This chapter demonstrates elements of change and continuity in Asia’s regional architecture in the period roughly between the waning years of the Cold War and the Asian Financial Crisis (1989 –1997). The impetus for change may have derived from external events such as the end of the Cold War, which in turn helped accelerate processes of regionalization and regionalism. However, I argue that the

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path to change is best captured by endogenous processes in which mechanisms of change and continuity intersect. More specifically, the preexisting institutional environment in East Asia— one defined by bilateral alliances in Northeast Asia and ASEAN in Southeast Asia—influenced how regional institution building in East Asia would unfold in the post–Cold War period. The emergence of the AsiaPacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) and the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF) illustrates how proponents of multilateralism both struggled to overcome existing political hurdles and work within the existing institutional framework to facilitate regionalism. Adopting a historical institutional approach, the processes of incremental change and continuity are reflected in two institutional outcomes evident in the 1990s. First is ASEAN’s imprint on the informal, consensus-­building nature of Asian multilateralism. Second is the persistence of bilateral alliances operating as a core framework beneath new multilateral initiatives. These two outcomes characterize the nascent post–Cold War regional architecture. This chapter is divided into two parts. The first part explores policy debates regarding East Asian regionalism during and after the Cold War. These debates are manifest in discussions surrounding the emergence of APEC and ARF, the region’s first two major post–Cold War multilateral institutions. The history and development of APEC and ARF have already been chronicled in rich detail by regional experts.3 Relying on their work and archived materials from the APEC and ARF Secretariat, I highlight points of historical institutional contingency by focusing on the actions of individual leaders and the political constraints they confronted in advocating regional institution building. The second part draws attention to bilateral alliances and developments within the hub-and-spokes system during this same period. I focus on the US-Japan and US-Philippines alliances, which represent an easy and a hard case, respectively, in demonstrating the continuity of bilateralism in the 1990s. Taken together, an assessment of multilateral and bilateral developments during this period demonstrates how new demands for multilateralism became enmeshed with the hub-and-spokes system through a process of institutional layering.

Regional Institution Building in the 1990s In the Beginning APEC’s genesis is often marked as the starting point of post–Cold War institution building in Asia. It is worth the reminder, however, that APEC itself was the culmination of two decades of debate regarding regional economic cooperation. The origins of Asia-Pacific economic cooperation trace back to the

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mid-1960s. In 1967, business leaders from five advanced economies—Japan, the United States, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand— organized the Pacific Basin Economic Council (PBEC) to enhance regional business cooperation. Another group, led by Japanese economist Kiyoshi Kojima of Japan, established the Pacific Trade and Development Conference series (PAFTAD) in 1968.4 PAFTAD organized pro-liberalization academics and policy makers in a track II dialogue to promote a Pacific free-trade area. Within PAFTAD, a group of economists proposed building an Organization for Pacific Trade and Development (OPTAD), a regional institution modeled after the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). Outside of Japan and Australia, however, little enthusiasm existed for OPTAD. Progress on regional economic cooperation remained stagnant again until the 1980s with the launch of the Pacific Economic Cooperation Conference (PECC). In addition to members of the Pacific Basin business and academic community, PECC’s inaugural conference attracted participation from eleven countries: the original five PBEC countries, as well as the five ASEAN countries and South Korea.5 Although policy makers joined the conversation on economic liberalization, East Asian governments remained skeptical about regional intergovernmental cooperation.6 Leadership and political will rested largely with private actors in track  II arenas, including the PAFTAD, PECC, and PBEC. Large stakeholders such as the US government remained “hostile to regional approaches that appeared to undermine its own commitment to global trade liberalization.”7 Meanwhile, ASEAN members criticized the Pacific Basin approach as an initiative reflecting the interests of developed nations. The newly industrialized economies of South Korea and Taiwan also remained wary of Japanese-led regional initiatives.8 Resistance to economic cooperation eventually ebbed in the final decade of the Cold War through a confluence of several factors. First, in the wake of economic turmoil, ideas favoring economic liberalization and deregulation gained wider traction in economic policy circles. As John Ravenhill argues, the global recession in the early 1980s “offered a window of opportunity for pro-liberalization intellectual entrepreneurs to forge new domestic and transnational coalitions.”9 Strategies promoting privatization, open trade, and export-led industrialization were implemented even among Southeast Asian countries such as Malaysia, Thailand, and the Philippines in the latter half of the 1980s.10 Second, Asian policy makers were interested in keeping the US engaged in the Asia-Pacific as Cold War tensions subsided. Third, slow but steady growth in interregional trade throughout the 1980s fostered greater demand for regional economic cooperation through an organization like APEC.

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Establishing APEC The prospect for APEC had ripened by the late 1980s. However, APEC’s establishment should not be taken for granted. In describing APEC’s emergence and deliberations regarding its purpose and vision in its early years, I make three general points. First, as already discussed, APEC did not simply appear overnight with the collapse of the Cold War. Second, multilateral cooperation via APEC involved more resistance and contingency then often assumed, and therefore required effective leadership. Finally, variation in the level of support for APEC in the early post–Cold War period was shaped by the existing institutional environment (see proposition 6 in Chapter 1)—in this case US bilateral alliances and ASEAN. As I argue, APEC’s successful implementation would require navigating between these different institutional preferences. Policy entrepreneurs from several Asian countries, especially Japan, had proposed different ideas for regional economic cooperation in the past. But in the end, it was Australia that carried the regional economic mantle forward.11 Why Australia? First and foremost, Canberra was a firm believer in Asia-Pacific regional cooperation. Australia’s future remained closely linked to the Asia-Pacific, and its leader, Robert Hawke, had risen to power in the 1980s as a strong advocate of economic liberalization.12 Japan, of course, had long supported regional economic cooperation. However, Australia’s leadership behind Asia-Pacific economic cooperation was politically more acceptable to some Asian policy makers.13 Furthermore, in contrast to Australia’s Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT), which was responsible for building regional support for APEC, Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) and the powerful Ministry of International Trade and Industry (MITI) espoused two different visions of Asian regionalism. Such differences hindered Japanese leadership.14 Deliberations regarding APEC’s development in its early years highlight the contingent nature of regional institution building. Triggered in part by the failure of the GATT process, in a visit to Seoul, South Korea in January 1989, Prime Minister Hawke proposed building an organization that institutionalized consultation and information sharing on trade and economic issues.15 Similar to ­OPTAD, Hawke modeled his ideas after the OECD. After the Hawke speech in Seoul, Australian diplomats set course across the region to build a strong case for economic cooperation.16 How did other countries respond? The United States carried at best a lukewarm attitude toward regional economic cooperation. Washington tended to support global rather than regional multilateral trade regimes. Moreover, a number of East Asian countries ran trade

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deficits with the United States. Asian multilateralism carried the risk of losing bilateral leverage against such nations. Finally, that the US had been inadvertently left out as a potential participant in Hawke’s initial proposal did not help Australia’s cause.17 Despite the initial rebuff, the US was more supportive of the Hawke proposal than previous regional economic initiatives. For Washington, Asia-Pacific economic cooperation complemented bilateral security alliances and thus served broader political and strategic purposes in the region. Demonstrating his public support for APEC, Secretary of State James Baker stated in a June 1989 speech: “To build that new partnership, we need continued American engagement in the region’s politics, commerce and security. We need a more creative sharing of global responsibility with Japan. And we also need a new mechanism to increase economic cooperation throughout the Pacific Rim.”18 Washington was perhaps an easy sell. However, ASEAN members carried a range of views. Indonesia and Malaysia were two countries that initially rejected the Hawke initiative.19 ASEAN governments indicated that ASEAN should remain at the center of any new regional organization. As ASEAN scholar Alice Ba argued, regional proposals such as APEC “rivaled ASEAN for states’ attention” and threatened to “subsume ASEAN-Southeast Asia into larger regional entities . . . thus intensifying fears that ASEAN was losing its relevance.”20 APEC’s challenge to ASEAN therefore emerged as the primary argument for ASEAN resistance against new regional institutions. The debate over APEC had less to do with its economic merits and hinged “more on whether such cooperation in fact marginalized ASEAN or detracted from ASEAN cooperation and existing processes.”21 In response, Australian officials made an all-out diplomatic effort in the first half of 1989 to assuage ASEAN concerns. Recognizing the long-standing contributions of ASEAN, DFAT officials emphasized that any new regional organization “would not seek to supplant ASEAN” and that ASEAN would play a central role in the new institution.22 Seeking further reassurances, ASEAN nations, while formally declaring their participation in APEC at the ASEAN Post-Ministerial Conference (PMC) in July 1989, presented a list of six preconditions to be met. These conditions included cooperation based on independence, mutual respect, and equality; the avoidance of creating an economic bloc or exclusive trading arrangements; and regional cooperation complementing ASEAN’s regional ­activities.23 With reservations still lingering, ASEAN ministers convened at a special informal meeting held in September 1989 to clarify their position on APEC. At the

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meeting, the delegates argued in favor of a “flexible” framework for Asia-Pacific cooperation, eschewing the idea of formal organization. They also suggested that ASEAN function as the “core” of any new regional initiative.24 Such qualifications for APEC reflected the reticence of Southeast Asian countries in establishing new institutional arrangements outside the boundaries of ASEAN. In fact, just days before the inaugural APEC meeting, Indonesian and Malaysian officials presented statements expressing concern about ASEAN’s fate with the arrival of a larger Asia-Pacific initiative. Even countries that were more supportive of AsiaPacific regionalism such as Thailand sought assurances that ASEAN would remain a central fixture in East Asia’s expanding regionalism.25

Contentious Institution Building APEC’s first ministerial meeting was held in Canberra in November 1989 with delegates from twelve nations: Australia, Canada, Japan, New Zealand, South Korea, the United States, and the six members of ASEAN—Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and Thailand. An analysis of the chairman’s statements and statements provided by foreign ministers during APEC’s early years suggest that member states were still trying to flesh out the vision and scope of this fledgling organization. Trade liberalization and the search for an alternative (i.e., regional) path to the stalled Uruguay Round of GATT negotiations served as the common thread among disparate interests. However, individual speeches presented by each attending minister at APEC (a practice that stopped after 1996) reflect which member economies fully embraced APEC and which moved c­ autiously. As one might predict from a historical institutional evaluation of APEC’s development, representatives from several ASEAN states asserted ASEAN’s institutional relevance in the regional architecture while expressing only cautious support for APEC. For example, the minister of foreign affairs of Brunei stated: “We are convinced of the importance of regional consultation and understanding. In this regard, the existing ASEAN framework could provide the basis for further exploration of the possibility of broadening the scope of consultations. I would like to emphasize that in our considerations, the mechanism of consultation must not diminish the importance of ASEAN.”26 Thailand’s minister of commerce, speaking on behalf of the ASEAN economic ministers, made similar remarks. Discussing ASEAN’s approach to the “overall concept of enhanced regional cooperation,” Subin Pinkayan discussed the need to ensure that “ASEAN’s identity and cohesion as well as our relations with dialogue partners and other third countries be preserved.”27 Foreign Minister George Yeo, of Singapore, echoing the

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sentiments of other ASEAN delegates, was unequivocal in vouching for ASEAN centrality in APEC. In his remarks, he stated: “The Indonesian Foreign Minister Mr. Ali Alatas had suggested the use of ASEAN machinery as the core for the APEC process. Singapore subscribes to this position. This machinery is an institutional asset. . . . It makes sense to build on it, and adapt it to the needs of APEC.”28 Similar attitudes prevailed at the 1990 APEC Ministerial Meeting. As Singapore’s prime minister Lee Kuan Yew stated, “ASEAN supports APEC, but it needs to ensure that APEC does not in any way dilute ASEAN’s identity.”29 Revealing a sense of institutional rivalry, Indonesia’s foreign minister argued: “It was only natural for ASEAN to approach the APEC process with caution . . . There was also the concern that our dialogue partners, who formed the other half of the APEC membership, would pay more attention to APEC and in the process would reduce the scale of their involvement in ASEAN.”30 Providing one final example of ASEAN’s cautious approach to APEC, Brunei’s representative reiterated that “ASEAN has always maintained that in developing APEC, ASEAN’s identity and cohesion must be preserved,” and he urged that “APEC . . . continue to ensure that projects established within an ASEAN framework will be taken into consideration and not be duplicated.”31 The disposition toward ASEAN centrality among Southeast Asian economies would linger even as ASEAN members worked to strengthen the APEC process in the mid-1990s. Despite reservations, ASEAN was able to accept and, to a certain extent, shape the institutional design and trajectory of APEC. The founding members of APEC adopted many of ASEAN’s preconditions into its nine general principles guiding APEC. APEC economies stated that cooperation “should involve a commitment to open dialogue and consensus . . . based on nonformal consultative exchanges of views among Asia-Pacific economies.”32 Additionally, in deference to ASEAN, “cooperation should complement and draw upon, rather than detract from, existing organizations in the region, including formal intergovernmental bodies such as ASEAN and less formal consultative bodies like the Pacific Economic Cooperation Conference (PECC).”33 Rather than circumvent ASEAN, the resistance from ASEAN members required proponents of APEC in arguably more powerful countries to adopt informal, consensus-building norms overlapping with ASEAN. Such reassurances to ASEAN were given at the outset of the inaugural APEC meeting as Australian foreign minister Gareth Evans remarked in his opening statement, “It is in our interests to ensure that any new forms of regional economic cooperation complement, and not detract from, existing forms of cooperation, such as ASEAN.”34

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The relatively terse statement from the US delegation in certain respects also supports earlier propositions suggesting Washington’s reluctance toward new multilateral initiatives. In contrast to remarks provided by other Western countries such as Australia or Canada, the statements offered by Secretary of State James Baker eschewed any of the laudatory remarks often given at an inaugural meeting. Washington’s muted response to APEC would eventually change throughout the course of the 1990s. It was the Clinton administration that first came to fully embrace APEC, seeing it as a means of pushing the administration’s trade liberalization agenda forward. In 1993, President Bill Clinton hosted the APEC conference in Seattle, as well as the first APEC leaders’ summit (hereafter the APEC Summit), which raised the institution’s profile. The establishment of the 1994 Bogor Goals—a commitment to achieve free and open trade and investment by 2010 for industrialized economies and by 2020 for developing economies—also added new life and purpose to APEC.35 The changed attitude of the US is reflected in Secretary of State Warren Christopher’s speech highlighting Washington’s efforts in promoting regional cooperation. In his statement, Christopher argued: The American people in particular have a great stake in APEC’s success. . . . When President Clinton took office, he understood that the security and prosperity of the United States in the coming century depends in large part on the prosperity and stability of the Asia-Pacific region. He recognized APEC’s potential both to spur trade and investment and to lay the basis for what he called ‘a community of shared interests, shared goals, and a shared commitment to mutually beneficial cooperation.36

By the mid-1990s, it was clear that APEC, and multilateral institutions more generally, would complement rather than compete with US bilateral alliances. As indicated by public statements and official APEC meeting documents, Washington did not immediately embrace APEC, uncertain whether multilateral institutions would undermine the strength of its bilateral alliance network. Meanwhile, several ASEAN nations expressed concern about the relevance of ASEAN during the early years of APEC. To circumvent opposition and accommodate varying preferences, APEC leaders adopted an inclusive approach to regionalism built on informal rules and weak enforcement mechanisms. The informal organizational structure and inclusive nature of APEC therefore made it relatively easy for regional architects to build and layer this new multilateral venture on top of existing institutional structures.37 APEC would eventually grow in size and scope, admitting new member states, adding new working groups on issues ranging from telecommunications to technology transfer, and establishing a permanent APEC Secretariat based in Singapore. Yet competing visions of regionalism between East Asian and Anglo-­Pacific

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members would ultimately contribute to APEC’s ongoing weakness and, as John Ravenhill describes, a lack of “substantive achievement” in its early years.38 Additionally, the APEC Secretariat was given little autonomy or capacity and remained limited to coordinating APEC events, providing logistical and technical services, and administering APEC’s budget and finance in its first decade of existence.39 APEC’s impotence throughout the Asian financial crisis in the late 1990s would deal the institution a serious reputational blow. Rather than paving the way for institutional innovation and reform to ultimately strengthen APEC, the crisis instead prompted advocates of Asian regionalism to advance alternative institutions such as the ASEAN Plus Three, which would trigger another round of institutional layering.

The Failure of the East Asian Economic Group Following endogenous modes of change, the proponents of APEC managed to build their organization on top of or in conjunction with existing institutional structures (namely ASEAN and US bilateral alliances). However, as a point of comparison, the failure of the East Asian Economic Group (EAEG) suggests that not all efforts at institution building were rewarded, especially if they challenged existing institutional structures backed by strong veto players.40 The EAEG emerged as a Malaysian-led proposal originating from the Malaysian Ministry of International Trade and Industry.41 It represented an exclusive East Asian variant of regionalism—an “Asia without Caucasians”—with membership drawn from ASEAN, Japan, South Korea, and the three Chinas (China, Taiwan, Hong Kong). More significant, the EAEG reflected frustrations on the part of some Asian countries with the West on global trade negotiations.42 Politically, the EAEG reflected Malaysian prime minister Mohammed Mahathir’s nationalist views on domestic policy and his aversion to APEC. As Mahathir argued: “The inclusion of economic giants like the United States, Canada, and Japan would result in the domination of the grouping by these countries. . . . Fear prevails that ASEAN will disappear as a group within the very much enlarged and more powerful APEC grouping.”43 Several countries immediately resisted the EAEG proposal, none more forcefully than the United States. Washington had an obvious interest in blocking exclusive Asian institutions such as the EAEG. To this end, Secretary of State James Baker pressured Seoul and Tokyo to reject the EAEG proposal. Speaking in direct terms, Secretary of State Baker allegedly told his South Korean counterpart, Foreign Minister Sang Ock Lee, “Malaysia didn’t spill blood for this country [South Korea] but we did.” Placing similar pressure on Japan, Baker warned ­Tokyo that the EAEG would split the Pacific region into two factions.44 Responding to both

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allies’ swift rejection of Mahathir’s proposal, Baker added, “I did my best to kill the [EAEG].”45 ASEAN members were also lukewarm in their support for the EAEG, despite Mahathir being one of their own. First, Southeast Asian states were aware that a proposal like the EAEG carried the risk of pushing out the United States in a period when US commitment to the region was unclear. Fully aware of Washington’s unequivocal stance against the EAEG, some Southeast Asian countries such as Singapore were reluctant to risk their political ties to the United States.46 Others such as Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines remained noncommittal at best. Second, ASEAN was now active in the ongoing APEC dialogue. Having already committed itself to the APEC process, ASEAN could not credibly support a more exclusive regional economic grouping. Third, as Alice Ba stated, the “suddenness of the proposal” and the significance placed on Japan’s and China’s membership in what was coined by the press as an “East Asian trading bloc” left ASEAN members wondering whether ASEAN would play a secondary role.47 Facing resistance, Malaysian diplomats, in an effort to convert potential allies, began framing the EAEG as supplementary to ASEAN. No consensus within ASEAN could be reached, however, with Indonesia’s strong opposition to Mahathir’s proposal. Eventually, the EAEG became the East Asian Economic Caucus, a loose consultative meeting within the APEC framework. The debate between EAEG and APEC reveals the contingent nature of regional institution building stemming from earlier institutional choices (see proposition 6 in Chapter 1). In this case, veto players, most notably the United States, helped block the EAEG from rivaling APEC as an alternative regional economic institution. Proponents of Asian regionalism had to contend with existing institutional structures, whether formal US bilateral alliances in Northeast Asia or the more informal ASEAN in Southeast Asia. In the case of the EAEG, actors whose institutional preferences were linked to the hub-and-spokes system rejected regional initiatives that excluded the United States. APEC also faced initial resistance from several veto players. However, proponents of APEC did manage to overcome resistance by adopting existing institutional preferences that incorporated Western members, but adhered to ASEAN’s penchant for informality. Through a negotiated process of institutional layering, policy entrepreneurs crafted APEC so as to complement bilateral alliances and incorporate ASEAN norms and practices.

ASEAN Regional Forum APEC marked the first step toward economic multilateralism in post–Cold War Asia. Likewise, the ASEAN Regional Forum represented the first post–Cold

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War multilateral security institution in the region. The easing of Cold War tensions from the late 1980s, coupled with the strategic uncertainties of the 1990s, provided the political space and motivation for regional actors to develop new multilateral security mechanisms. Underneath the surface, however, ARF’s establishment involved greater contention. Institution building required strong leadership and bargaining to navigate between various actors’ preferences and existing institutional constraints. As with APEC, I highlight how earlier policy choices and the preexisting institutional environment shaped the rise of ARF. The presence of ASEAN most directly influenced the institutional design of ARF, but the existence of the hub-and-spokes system also proscribed what type of multilateral security institution would emerge in post–Cold War Asia.

ARF Development Two non-Asian countries—Australia and Canada— emerged as early proponents of multilateral security cooperation in post–Cold War Asia. Australia first took the initiative at the Jakarta ASEAN-PMC in July 1990 when Foreign Minister Gareth Evans suggested forming a regional security conference modeled after the Conference for Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE).48 Canada proposed a similar track II conference the following month—the North Pacific Cooperative Security Dialogue. Both proposals were met with resistance, particularly from the United States and ASEAN. Similar to its initial lukewarm attitude toward APEC, the George H. W. Bush administration eyed multilateral security initiatives with suspicion in the late 1980s and early 1990s.49 The administration’s reluctance stemmed from an implicit attitude among US officials that multilateral security institutions undermined US bilateral alliances.50 As ASEAN expert Michael Leifer bluntly stated, during this period the US was “not prepared to think beyond a hub and spokes mode of regional security.”51 ASEAN members also rejected the Canberra and Ottawa proposals but on different grounds from Washington. Although ASEAN supported the broad idea of a regional security forum, it specifically rejected the rules-based framework of the CSCE as applied to Asia. Some ASEAN members feared rapid institutionalization of a CSCE style organization. Others deemed the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Asia (CSCA) as an “inappropriate” option imposed by outside powers.52 In response (or perhaps in reaction) to Australian and Canadian initiatives, other regional actors began discussing alternative multilateral security and ­confidence-building mechanisms. In June 1991, several experts affiliated with the

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ASEAN Institute for Strategic and International Studies (ASEAN-ISIS) suggested using the ASEAN-PMC as a venue for discussing regional security issues.53 This approach was reiterated by Japan’s foreign minister a month later, in July 1991. Addressing the general session of the ASEAN-PMC in Kuala Lumpur, Japanese foreign minister Taro Nakayama identified the ASEAN PMC as an “appropriate base for addressing regional peace and security issues.”54 Australian officials had also shifted away from the more rigid CSCA model, instead advocating a modest form of regional institution building that emphasized “regional security dialogue.”55 Meanwhile, the US continued to respond tepidly toward multilateral security cooperation.56 US discourse at the 1991 ASEAN-PMC was “not consonant with that of the other PMC participants.”57 Representing the United States, Undersecretary of State Robert Zoellick remarked, “We should be attentive to the successful features of the current system,” and reminded his audience that “what has made Asia relatively secure and stable . . . is a loose network of bilateral alliances.58 However, Washington did not oppose Nakayama’s multilateral security plan as it had done the previous year with Australia’s CSCA proposal. Instead, it took a cautious approach as suggested by Secretary Baker’s press conference remarks at the end of the PMC. Secretary Baker cautioned ASEAN not to abandon existing security arrangements in its consideration for regional security cooperation.59 Baker’s words reflected a gradual shift in Washington’s attitude toward multilateralism during the latter half of the Bush administration. In a speech delivered in Tokyo in November 1991, and again in a Foreign Affairs piece published at the end of that year, Baker stated: “Asian security increasingly is derived from a flexible, ad hoc set of political and defense interactions. Multilateral approaches to security are slowly emerging . . . At this stage we should be attentive to the possibilities for such multilateral action without locking ourselves into an overly structural approach. In the Asia-Pacific community, form should follow function.”60 The US was also reconsidering its own engagement strategy in Asia following the withdrawal of US troops in the Philippines in 1992. The Bush administration saw multilateralism as a means of reassuring alliances about ongoing US commitment in the wake of reduced US military presence in the Asia-Pacific. Oddly, ASEAN did not endorse the Nakayama proposal. ASEAN reticence had less to do with the content of the Japanese foreign minister’s proposal, which paralleled many of the recommendations offered by ASEAN-ISIS. Rather, it had more to do with the proposal emerging out of Japan, and not ASEAN. Eventually, the momentum for multilateral security leadership shifted to ASEAN. In 1992, Singapore prime minister Goh Chok Tong, as chair and host

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of that years ASEAN meeting, recommended that ASEAN “intensify its external dialogues in political and security matters by using the ASEAN Post-Ministerial Conferences.”61 The substance of the proposal differed little from the previous Nakayama proposal. However, ASEAN officials sought to expand participation to include ASEAN’s dialogue partners as well as a few nondialogue states.62 As a follow-up, the foreign ministers of eighteen nations convened at a special meeting in July 1993 in conjunction with the ASEAN annual ministerial meeting. At this meeting, the foreign ministers agreed to hold a separate gathering to be launched in 1994 as the ASEAN Regional Forum.

Why ASEAN Leadership? Some scholars have suggested that leadership was naturally “entrusted” to ASEAN as a strategically convenient option, playing down the role of ASEAN’s own diplomacy.63 First, as a group of small and middle size states, ASEAN appeared nonthreatening and carried less political baggage relative to other major powers such as Japan or the United States. Second, ASEAN’s informal model was better suited to facilitate dialogue on post–Cold War security issues that did not necessarily require a counterbalancing military coalition.64 Third, none of the great powers in the region—United States, China, Japan—had expressed a great desire to lead such an organization. ARF therefore provided a balanced approach in encouraging continued US engagement in Asia while also drawing Beijing into a regional security dialogue.65 Regardless of whether one believes ASEAN was handed a leadership role in ARF by default rather than ASEAN members actively seizing the initiative through deft statecraft, ASEAN had reasons for staking its claim on multilateral security building in the early 1990s.66 ASEAN carried an interest in preserving its own institutional model—an informal, process-oriented, consensus-based approach to regional institutions—when addressing regional security issues.67 As argued earlier, ASEAN members did not endorse a CSCE-style organization, which would politically marginalize ASEAN as a regional framework for cooperation.68 In the search for a multilateral security model, the ASEAN-PMC was more in line with the cognitive template of ASEAN policy makers.69 Beginning with track II discussions in 1991, ASEAN began to “reconstruct the norm of common security so that its institutional expression conformed to the ASEAN Way and acknowledged ASEAN as the main platform for developing a wider Asia-Pacific regional security institution.”70 In fact, several scholars note that the promotion of the “ASEAN way” had become a primary agenda of ARF.71 Michael Leifer states, “In facing up to the realities of the new post–Cold

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War security context, ASEAN sought to exploit its unique advantage by taking the formal political initiative to advocate its own model of multilateralism.”72 At the inaugural ARF meeting in 1994, members agreed that ASEAN would act as the primary driving force behind ARF.73 As Rizal Sukma argues, “Once the centrality of ASEAN within the newly established ARF was secured, the Association immediately sought to establish not only its ‘ownership’ over institutional arrangements but also its prerogative to set the agenda.”74 Consequently, ARF ministerial meetings were scheduled in conjunction with the ASEAN annual ministerial meeting. The incoming chairman of the ASEAN Standing Committee chaired all track I activities of the ARF. Finally, the ASEAN Secretariat in Jakarta and the ASEAN Standing Committee provided administrative support for ARF, which lacked its own secretariat.75 ASEAN may not have appeared as the obvious center for a regional security forum, given that the two major security issues of the 1990s, the North Korean nuclear crisis and the Taiwan Strait conflict, were located in Northeast Asia. However, a deeper look at the historical institutional context sheds light on the emergence and early development of ARF. As Noel Morada argues, “The historical experience of ASEAN also influenced the evolution of the ARF in other ways, not least by extending to the [ARF] ASEAN’s norms and principles.”76 Evidence for such arguments is found in the first ARF meeting in 1994, in which ARF participants agreed to endorse ASEAN’s 1976 Treaty of Amity and Cooperation (TAC).77 This argument was reiterated in the chair’s Statement of the Second and Third Annual Meetings: ARF would continue as a forum for “open dialogue and consultation on regional political and security cooperation.”78 ASEAN would lead, but decisions would be “made through consensus after careful and extensive consultations from all participants.”79 ASEAN’s motives were driven in part by strategic concerns and the post–Cold War security environment. However, the preferences of ASEAN policy makers were very much shaped by their own institutional experience, spurring ASEAN as an organization to veto proposals that challenged its own institutional model. ARF’s low level of institutionalization and informal approach was an active decision on ASEAN to extend its own multilateral framework to the new post–Cold War regional architecture.

Institutional Layering and the Low Hanging Fruit As mentioned earlier, major regional powers such as the United States and China were initially resistant to multilateral security cooperation in Asia, but had gradually warmed to the idea by the time of the 1992 ASEAN-PMC. ASEAN’s role

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in ARF’s creation highlights the role of active leadership in regional institution building. However, the political context and the preexisting institutional framework mattered a great deal in determining the trajectory of ARF in relation to the broader regional architecture. In the preceding section we observed how ASEAN shaped the character and institutional direction of ARF. Proponents of regional security cooperation were able to navigate a path forward via the ASEAN model because it assuaged the concerns of potential veto players such as the United States whose interests remained locked with existing bilateral alliance structures. The US was willing to support ideas explored by Asian countries “as long as their ideas did not challenge Washington’s bilateral alliances and forward military presence.”80 As Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs Winston Lord testified at his Senate confirmation hearing: “We welcome increased security consultations in the framework of the ASEAN Post-Ministerial Conference. This process can usefully encourage nations to share information, convey intentions, ease tensions, resolve disputes, and foster confidence.”81 Additionally, Assistant Secretary of State Lord listed several goals for US policy in the AsiaPacific that supported multilateralism. Such goals included deepening ties with ASEAN, strengthening APEC, and developing multilateral security forums.82 Despite growing support for multilateralism in the Clinton era, US officials frequently referenced multilateralism in conjunction with statements reifying the importance of bilateral alliances. For instance, Lord argued that the US was interested in “developing multilateral forums for security consultations while maintaining the solid foundations of our alliances.”83 President Bill Clinton also envisioned regional security dialogue as “a way to supplement our alliances and forward military presence, not to supplant them.”84 This was reiterated in 1995 by the US State Department in a statement that multilateral security dialogues would “supplement, but not supplant, our alliances and forwards military presence which we rigorously preserve.”85 And at the third ARF Meeting, in Jakarta, Secretary of State Warren Christopher remarked, “The United States believes that our participation in the ASEAN Regional Forum, the Northeast Asia Security Dialogue, and other mechanisms complements our bilateral efforts to promote stability.”86 These statements suggest that policy makers in Washington, though open to multilateralism in the post–Cold War era, firmly believed that bilateralism functioned as the primary means for addressing regional security issues. US endorsement of ARF was accompanied by “strong reaffirmation of Washington’s traditional emphasis on bilateral alliances” which President Clinton had argued as the “bedrock of America’s security role in the Asia-Pacific.”87 Thus, even as the ­Clinton

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administration looked to expand multilateral initiatives in post–Cold War Asia, it also tightened bilateral alliances, communicating to other regional actors that bilateralism remained the key component of Washington’s Asia-Pacific strategy.88 This is not to suggest that multilateralism and bilateralism were incapable of coexisting. In fact, US reactions to ARF in the early 1990s were positive precisely because the ARF was seen as a complement to US bilateral alliances. Like ASEAN, US policy makers saw value in the ARF in regard to engaging China, encouraging transparency, and addressing regional issues such as territorial disputes in the South China Sea. But the US resisted any new institutions undercutting its bilateral alliances. Bilateralism still functioned as the primary structure enabling the US to retain power and influence in Asia. From the perspective of US policy makers, then, the ARF was palatable as a low-cost approach to shoring up bilateral alliances without putting pressure on its treaty alliance partners to choose between bilateral or multilateral options. In essence, change in the regional architecture began to take place through a process of layering as several actors resisted any alteration of preexisting institutions.89 The desire to expand multilateralism as a complement to the hub-and-spokes system was shared by US allied partners as well. For example, in the early 1990s, Japan shifted toward a multifaceted approach to regional stability that included expanding regional cooperation, preserving bilateral alliance structures, and adding mechanisms to build trust and mutual confidence.90 However, Japanese policy makers were careful to ensure that multilateral mechanisms did not undermine the primacy of bilateral alliances.91 This perspective was later reflected in Tokyo’s waning enthusiasm for ARF but its consistent desire to maintain, if not strengthen, the US-Japan alliance. Turning to China, ASEAN’s noninterventionist, consensus-oriented process also helped draw Beijing into the forum. Initial concerns from Chinese leaders revolved around constraints placed by regional security institutions on its foreign policy conduct. Beijing was suspicious of potential interference on domestic issues from other forum participants such as the United States.92 On specific issues such as territorial disputes in the South China Sea, Beijing had expressed a clear desire for conducting bilateral discussions with other claimants rather than relying on multilateral mechanisms that it found disadvantageous to its position. Given China’s reluctance toward multilateral security institutions in the early 1990s, then, ARF’s emphasis on dialogue, nonintervention, respect for sovereignty, and consensus building appeared more inviting. Although not the most optimal outcome for other multilateral proponents such as Australia and Canada, ARF served as a suitable point of agreement for smaller actors in Southeast Asia and major regional powers such as China and the United States.93

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Multilateralism Recap As policy discussions revolving around APEC and ARF reveal, the preexisting institutional environment in East Asia shaped actors’ preferences and attitudes toward multilateralism, which in turn affected how regional institution building in East Asia unfolded in the early to mid-1990s. The emergence and early develop­ ment of APEC and ARF in relation to the broader trajectory of Asia’s regional architecture suggest how prior institutional choices very much affected the form and direction of multilateralism in post–Cold War Asia. Both institutions were shaped but also limited by preexisting institutional structures and regional norms. To attract a wider membership and accommodate various actors’ preferences, proponents of regional institution building ultimately advocated an informal framework that might complement rather than compete with existing institutional structures. ARF and, to some degree, APEC were guided by principles of consensus and noninterference originating from ASEAN. Weak enforcement mechanisms and the flexible interpretation of rules would later make both institutions prone to institutional drift, but they also permitted actors to build such institutions on top of preexisting structures, circumventing potential veto players. New multilateral institutions also remained weak relative to formal bilateral alliances in the hub-and-spokes system. At the outset of regional institution building in the early 1990s, multilateral proponents envisioned the post–Cold War regional order in more ambitious terms. By creating new multilateral mechanisms, they believed they would set a precedent for expanding multilateralism in Asia. Thus, following the establishment of APEC, policy entrepreneurs were keen on developing a parallel security framework with the understanding that economic interdependence would help provide a foundation for security cooperation. APEC and ARF’s emergence marked significant new developments in the post–Cold War regional architecture. However, contrary to punctuated equilibrium models, which reveal rapid change following external shocks, Asia’s regional architecture experienced patterns of slower, incremental change. The path to change was largely an endogenous process of institutional layering, unfolding in conjunction with mechanisms of continuity that reinforced bilateral alliance structures and the norms of ASEAN.

US Bilateral Alliances in the 1990s Bilateralism and multilateralism are often treated dichotomously. This zero-sum approach to regional cooperation dominated strategic thinking in Washington at the end of the Cold War. Policy makers treated multilateral efforts in Asia, particularly in the area of security, as a challenge to the preservation of bilateralism.

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In Asia, multilateral proponents argued that bilateral alliances would become less effective in addressing emerging threats in an increasingly globalized world. New forms of regional governance were therefore needed.94 To fill this void, especially in the area of economic cooperation, regional actors promoted new multilateral institutions. However, bilateral alliances did not retreat. To the contrary, the United States and allied partners in Asia sought to redefine bilateral alliances in a manner that would ultimately strengthen, not diminish, the hub-and-spokes system. Continuity does not imply that bilateral alliances remained static. Like other institutions, alliances adapt and evolve in response to shifts in the international and domestic political environment. Several US bilateral alliances in Asia experienced structural and operational adjustments as part of the alliance management process. From a macro-level perspective, however, the recalibration of alliances represented a semblance of continuity in the hub-and-spokes system, and more broadly in Asia’s post–Cold War regional architecture. Thus, the persistence of bilateralism marked continuity in the regional architecture, even with the onset of new multilateral organizations indicating change. Rather than discuss each US treaty alliance in Asia, I explore the US-Japan and US-Philippines alliances as representative of the change and continuity taking place within the hub-and-spokes system in the 1990s. The two alliances represent an easy and a hard test for claiming the resilience of bilateral alliances. In the early 1990s, the US-Japan alliance experienced tension stemming from difficult trade relations and Japan’s “checkbook diplomacy” during the Persian Gulf War. Never­theless, mainstream elites in Tokyo and Washington remained strongly committed to the security relationship. The US-Philippines alliance presented greater problems, capped by the Philippine Senate’s vote to remove all US bases off the island in 1991. Yet in both the Japan and Philippines cases, bilateral alliances were in many respects much more resilient than initially assumed by policy experts in the immediate post–Cold War period. External threats, such as disputes in the South China Sea and North Korea’s nuclear program, helped sustain an elite consensus favoring US bilateral alliances in Asian capitals. More important than threat perceptions, however, a consensus affirming strong ties to the US had become rooted in the domestic institutions and security ideas of key national elites.95

US-Japan Alliance I begin with the US-Japan alliance, in which a strong consensus among Tokyo and Washington elites helped sustain a relatively smooth alliance transition after

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the Cold War. The end of the Cold War did create an initial degree of uncertainty concerning the future of the US-Japan alliance. International criticism regarding Japan’s tepid response to the Persian Gulf War and the dangers of the North Korean nuclear crisis in the early 1990s renewed debate in Tokyo regarding Japan’s global security role. Although critics predicted a loosening of the USJapan alliance, a review of defense policies articulated by Japanese and American policy elites in the mid-1990s indicate a renewed commitment to the alliance heading into the new millennium. National Defense Program Outline and the Nye Report  Prime Minister Morihiro Hosokawa took an early step in revamping the US-Japan alliance by appointing an advisory group in February 1994 with the intention of revising the National Defense Program Outline (NDPO). At the time, the strategic debate in Japan revolved around two different expressions of national identity: Japan as a “normal country” exerting a more active foreign and defense policy, and Japan as a “civilian power.”96 Capturing both ends of this strategic debate, the advisory panel, headed by Hirotaro Higuchi, advocated a comprehensive security policy that expanded its multilateral role in international affairs.97 While this indicated Japan’s interest in multilateralism, the Higuchi report also suggested increasing US-Japanese security cooperation by improving bilateral policy consultations and promoting joint training and operational planning.98 Such policy actions corro­ borated recommendations from a study by US and Japanese academics identifying bilateral alliances as “the most critical element ensuring regional security and order in East Asia . . . [with] no obvious alternatives to the alliance system on the horizon.”99 In the United States, the Clinton administration conducted its own strategic assessment of East Asia. The 1995 East Asian Strategic Review (EASR) committed one hundred thousand troops to the region. Intended to provide a stable US presence in Asia, the EASR responded to North Korea’s nuclear program and the rise of China. The US also expected Japan to increase its own contribution to the alliance. The EASR restated the importance of Japan as a security partner, declaring, “Our security alliance with Japan is the linchpin of US security policy in Asia.”100 But even before the EASR’s release, the US was already seeking ways to strengthen its relationship with Japan. Joseph Nye, then assistant secretary of defense for international security, initiated a bilateral process, encouraging greater Japanese defense cooperation with the US. The working-level discussions under the Nye initiative influenced Japan’s own NDPO revision by reiterating the value of the US-Japan security alliance and suggesting the geographic expansion of Japan’s national defense boundaries. Implying the elevated status of the

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US-Japan Security Treaty, the new NDPO made thirteen specific references to the US-Japan alliance, compared with only two references in the previous defense outline.101 Recalibrating the Alliance  On September 24, 1995, the brutal gang rape of an Okinawan schoolgirl by three US servicemen triggered public outrage against the US military. Support for the US-Japan alliance dropped in opinion polls. The rape incident brought to the surface underlying tensions over US bases in Okinawa that policy makers had failed to address before the incident. Tokyo and Washington moved quickly to form the Special Action Committee on Okinawa (SACO), which recommended the return of several US facilities, including Marine Corps Air Station Futenma in the densely populated area of Ginowan, to reduce Okinawa’s base burden. Overall, however, the tragic incident did not significantly affect the larger framework of the US-Japan security alliance. SACO released an interim report on April 15, 1995, two days before the Clinton-Hashimoto summit, to ensure that Okinawan issues would not derail public affirmations of a strengthened US-Japan alliance during the summit. In a joint statement, both sides reiterated the importance of the alliance stating, “The Prime Minister and the President recognize that the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security is the core of the Japan-US alliance, and underlies the mutual confidence that constitutes the foundation for bilateral cooperation on global issues.”102 This sentiment was shared by most Tokyo foreign policy elites. For instance, the deputy director general of MOFA’s North American Affairs Bureau stated that “the framework for the defense of Japan will continue to rest on the twin pillars of appropriate defense capabilities and the Japan-US security arrangements.”103 Moreover, the joint statement conveyed that strong support for the alliance existed beyond common threat perceptions and was based on “shared values and interests [resting] on the mutual confidence embodied in the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security.”104 Strengthened bilateral ties were reflected in actions, not just words. Prior to the April 1996 summit, Tokyo and Washington signed the Acquisition and CrossServicing Agreement (ACSA). The agreement enabled Japan to provide logistical support to the US military in peacekeeping efforts, humanitarian missions, joint exercises, and other US operations during peacetime.105 In 1997, the US and Japan produced the “Interim Report on the Review of the Guidelines for US-Japan Defense Cooperation.” The report, produced by the joint government Subcommittee for Defense Cooperation (SDC), reviewed the new guidelines for cooperation based on Japan’s NDPO and the 1996 Hashimoto-Clinton joint declara-

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tion. The document aimed to improve coordinated responses to an armed attack against Japan.106 Moreover, the SDC’s interim report confirmed the underlying trend of increased security cooperation between the US and Japan in the mid-late 1990s. On basic defense postures, both sides would “firmly maintain US-Japan security arrangements” by developing procedures to increase cooperation in bilateral and multilateral operations in areas such as transportation, medical services, information sharing, education, and training. The report also permitted the SDF to provide rear-area support to US forces in a military crisis around Japan. Under the threat of imminent attack, Japan and the US agreed to “intensify intelligence sharing and policy consultations and initiate at an early stage the operation of a bilateral coordination mechanism.”107 In short, the string of bilateral agreements produced in the mid- to late 1990s reveal Tokyo and Washington’s strong desire to maintain bilateral security ties even after the Cold War. In sum, Japan’s security policy did evolve in the immediate post–Cold War period. Although Japan promoted new multilateral initiatives and pushed the limits of Article 9 by seeking to expand its military role in the region, the US-Japan alliance remained deeply embedded in Japan’s overall national security framework. Tokyo elites were reluctant to push the boundaries of the US-Japan alliance. This attitude is captured best by Yukio Okamoto, the former MOFA director of the National Security Affairs Division. At the close of the 1996 Hashimoto-Clinton summit, Okamoto stated: A collective security structure in Asia is still at least twenty years away. Until then, Japan in theory has only two alternatives: we can attempt to provide our own protection, or we can enter into an alliance with another, stronger country. Given the current military concentration in the surrounding regions, protecting ourselves would necessitate a Self-Defense Force several time larger than we have now . . . which in turn would require changes to the Constitution. It is unlikely that the Japanese people would accept this alternative. Thus the security alliance with the United States represents the only real alternative.108

The historical legacy of Japan’s imperial past and the postwar institutional security arrangements imposed by the US helped produce norms and domestic structures over time, which prevented Japan from pursuing a military-first security policy.109 Relying instead on the US security umbrella, these structures led Japan to formulate a more comprehensive security policy.110 Prevailing norms and institutional arrangements required Japanese policy makers to embed the structure of the US-Japan security alliance into Japan’s national security framework. Therefore, “undoing” the US-Japan alliance would become a much more difficult task as constituencies dedicated to maintaining existing relationships

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p­ erpetuated ­alliance practices. Although political leaders in Tokyo questioned specific alliance policies in the early 1990s, the institutional and ideational foundations of the alliance enabled actors to manage fundamental disagreements.111 In that respect, US bilateral alliances not only remained resilient in the wake of Asia’s new multilateral agenda, but likely strengthened coming out of the 1990s.

US-Philippine Relations If the US-Japan alliance represents an easy test for bilateralism’s resilience in the 1990s, the US-Philippines alliance presents a much harder case. The Philippine Senate’s rejection of US bases in September 1991 marked a low point in the alliance. Yet even before the decision, the alliance consensus had begun to erode in the wake of democratization. Ambivalence toward the United States had settled among Philippine opposition leaders, who associated US bases with the Marcos dictatorship. This was particularly true among political elites who were returning to power after spending years in hiding or in prison under Marcos’s rule. US-Philippines Alliance and Democratic Transition  Although the Philippine government continued to support the alliance after democratization, ideational and institutional shifts in Philippine politics led to a weakening of the alliance consensus. As mentioned earlier, the reemergence of Philippine nationalism at the forefront of base politics heralded a new discourse challenging what nationalist elites perceived as Manila’s neocolonial dependence on Washington. Although marginalized during the height of the Cold War, the nationalist position gained greater legitimacy in the 1980s with the rise of the People Power movement. In effect, nationalist attitudes had begun undermining the legitimacy of the decadeslong consensus treating the US alliance as sacrosanct. Nationalist politicians were not necessarily calling to end the US-Philippines alliance. However, in demanding the closure of US bases, they were in effect downgrading the security component of US-Philippine relations. Democratic aspirations and nationalist ideas brought institutional change with the ratification of the 1987 Philippine Constitution. On the issue of US bases, the revised constitution diffused power from the executive to the legislative branch, thus widening the circle of key policy elites with decision-making power on US-alliance related issues. Sustaining a consensus favoring the status quo on alliance policies would become harder with more actors weighing in on US alliance issues. The base renegotiating process from 1990 to 1991 revealed the intense division among Philippine elites on the country’s future relationship with the United States.112 Although a lack of support for US bases should not necessarily

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be equated with a lack of support for the alliance, senators who voted against US bases clearly held different views about the security dimension of US-Philippine relations. A weakened consensus was also reflected more broadly in the different preferences between executive and legislative branches. In contrast to the Senate, President Corazon Aquino and officials primarily in the Department of Foreign Affairs favored retaining the bases and maintaining close ties to Washington.113 Despite the magnitude of the alliance crisis, it was still possible to salvage damaged alliance relations. After all, both Manila and Washington had spent countless hours over the previous year and a half negotiating basing terms in the Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation, and Security to improve the state of US-Philippine relations in the new democratic era. Immediately after the Senate’s rejection, President Aquino explored different measures to reverse the decision. One option included holding a national referendum. The Aquino administration also reviewed whether a constitutional flaw required amendment of the existing rules on the base renewal process.114 In addition to the president, other policy makers worked to prevent an alliance fallout. Emmanuel Pelaez, the Philippines ambassador to the US, circulated a note that stated that “the Philippine Senate’s nonconcurrence to the treaty is not yet final,” and that “the legal regime that shall govern the status of US forces in the Philippines . . . shall continue to be as defined in the 1947 PhilippinesUnited States Military Bases Agreement, as amended.”115 In Washington, Richard Armitage, chief US negotiator of the Philippine-American Cooperation Talks, testified in the US Congress nine days after the Senate vote: “It appears now that the vote of the Philippine Senate on the 16th may not be the final word on this matter. President Aquino has been engaged in trying to mitigate the potential effects of the Senate vote in order to avoid its potential consequences.”116 Meanwhile, the US formed its own proposal for a longer three-year phased withdrawal from the Philippines, hoping that the agreement might be revived and extended after the election of a new Philippine government in 1992.117 Philippine elites were clearly divided in their position over the future of USPhilippine relations in 1991. However, most opposed to bases were not looking to terminate the alliance altogether. As one senator stated in his speech opposing US military presence: “We want friendship with America. We want cooperation. We want trade. But we do not want servitude. We do not want an agreement that debases us as a nation.”118 The alliance consensus weakened as bilateral relations spiraled downward. Yet the institutional core of the alliance, the US-Philippine Mutual Defense Treaty, remained intact even as the “alliance remained essentially moribund in the mid-1990s.”119

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Threats, Opportunities, and the Rebuilding of the Alliance  Two related events transpired following Subic Bay’s closure that helped Manila and Washington regain solid footing in the security relationship. First, the heavy financial burden of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) modernization program sent Manila scouring for much-needed economic assistance. Second, the Philippines experienced increased threats to national security in the mid-1990s. For example, a clash with the Chinese Navy in the South China Sea in 1995 increased the salience of external threats to the Philippines. The Philippines also experienced an upsurge in internal insurgencies from communist and Muslim separatist groups in the late 1990s. In light of increasing external threats and difficulty in financing and implementing military modernization, improved security ties to the US suddenly looked appealing. To Philippine elites, the conflict in the Spratly Islands signaled revisionist intentions behind China’s rise as a major regional power. If previously lost in impassioned debates against US bases, Philippine elites, including several senators who had voted against US bases, had come to recognize the importance of US military presence and the bilateral alliance. To revive the USPhilippines security alliance, officials began negotiating an agreement in 1996 to enable US troops and ships to operate in Philippines territory. After two years of negotiations, Washington and Manila signed the Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA) in 1998. Most immediately, the VFA guaranteed legal status to US troops partaking in joint military exercises in the Philippines. In a mutually beneficial move, the VFA functioned as a means for Washington to help develop the AFP’s ­operational strategy and create joint operability between the two forces. The VFA also opened access to air and naval facilities in the Philippines, facilitating rapid deployment of US troops in the event of a crisis. The Philippine Senate subsequently ratified the VFA in 1999. The agreement not only permitted US troops to take part in large-scale training exercises such as the Balikatan ­exercises in early 2000 but also arranged a new framework for AFP modernization.120 The deterioration in US-Philippine relations at the end of the Cold War challenged the notion of resilient bilateral alliances. Meanwhile, the withdrawal of US forces in the Philippines helped catalyze multilateral security dialogues partially as a means of keeping the United States engaged in the region. Although the loss of US bases qualitatively changed the nature of the alliance, perceptions of increasing threat coupled with the Philippine military’s inability to quickly modernize forced political leaders to rethink its security relationship with the United States. An alliance consensus reemerged in the democratic era that once again linked US

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security ties to Philippine national security. Permanent US bases were not a part of this newly emerged consensus. However, US troops were permitted in the Philippines on a “visiting” basis, and the bilateral alliance persisted.

Conclusion: Assessing Multilateralism and Bilateralism in the 1990s An assessment of multilateral and bilateral relations in the 1990s suggests signs of change in the regional architecture but also limitations to institution building. Vested interests and positive feedback loops stemming from preexisting institutional structures such as US bilateral alliances and ASEAN created resistance to rapid change. The confluence of power, institutions, and ideas would therefore require policy entrepreneurs to pursue strategies of regional institution building which could circumvent opposition. Thus, supporters of new multilateral arrangements created institutions that would overlap with and minimize confrontation with existing institutional structures. The outcome resulted in an iterated process of institutional layering leading to slow, incremental change in the regional architecture and, in the long run, institutional overlap and regime complexity in Asia. President Bill Clinton best captured the logic of institutional layering in a 1993 speech: “The challenge for the Asia-Pacific . . . is to develop multiple new arrangements to meet multiple threats and opportunities. These arrangements can function like overlapping plates of armor, individually providing protection and together covering the full body of our common security concerns.”121 More specific to the analysis in this chapter, policy discussions surrounding the emergence of APEC and ARF and the recalibration of bilateral alliances provide insights into Asia’s evolving regional architecture and the importance of the temporal context in shaping actors’ preferences and institutional outcomes. What we find is contestation and deliberation between policy makers as they struggled to create institutions that would facilitate interregional cooperation but also promote a particular vision of regionalism— one that advanced parochial, national interests shaped by prior political developments. More concretely, a subset of regional players—most notably the United States, Japan, and Australia—wielded significant veto power against more exclusive brands of Asian regionalism. This bloc would help ensure the preservation of US alliances and bilateralism. As demonstrated by adjustments in the US-Japan and US-Philippines alliance, US allies in the Asia-Pacific remained wedded to the hub-and-spokes system. Meanwhile, Southeast Asian countries commanded enough influence through ASEAN to ensure that new multilateral regional initiatives would retain their informal, consensus-based character along the lines of ASEAN. At the same time,

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ASEAN’s leadership recognized the need for continuity in Asia’s regional architecture. They made it clear that “the continuing presence of the United States” would play a necessary role in regional stability.122 It would be telling a decade later with ASEAN states calling on the US military, not ARF, nor even ASEAN, to address both traditional and nontraditional security crises.123

4

Rising Regionalism: 1998 –2007

The emergence of APEC and ARF and the reformulation of the US-Japan and US-Philippines alliances in the 1990s highlighted two trends in Asia that would continue into the next decade. The first was growing strategic uncertainty precipitated by ongoing interregional rivalries. Complicating matters further, increasing tensions in the Taiwan Strait, the South China Sea, and the Korean Peninsula were circumscribed against the backdrop of a rising China and US-Sino rivalry. The second was rising regionalism—government-led efforts facilitating regional integration following on the heels of bottom-up regionalization led by multinational corporations and other transnational actors, including foreign students, tourists, NGOs, and labor migrants. Despite apparent contradictions, these two trends broadly encapsulated the security and economic dynamics of post–Cold War Asia. However, strategic uncertainty and growing regionalism are not necessarily explanations for how Asia’s regional architecture has been unfolding. This chapter examines Asian (or more precisely East Asian) regionalism and processes of change and continuity in the regional architecture in the decade after the Asian financial crisis (1997–2007). Greater economic integration and new multilateral initiatives sparked enthusiasm for East Asian regionalism. However, far from following a linear trajectory toward greater multilateralism, the regional architecture developed along a more convoluted path. Ongoing debate between exclusive and inclusive forms of regionalism led actors to block or support different multilateral initiatives. New multilateral groupings proliferated, created on top of existing bilateral and multilateral institutions. Meanwhile, the informal nature of most Asian institutions

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made them susceptible to institutional drift (see proposition 5 in Chapter 1). The region, once underinstitutionalized, thus began taking on the characteristics of a complex patchwork of overlapping institutions. Framed in a historical institutional context, I present a more measured account of regionalism in the decade after the Asian financial crisis than described by regional optimists. Several data points do suggest that regional trends were accelerating by the early to mid-2000s.1 However, careful process tracing of multilateral institution building, juxtaposed to an analysis of bilateral alliance transformations during the 2000s, reveals a contentious and uneven process. I begin this chapter by presenting evidence underpinning the optimism of regional proponents. The Asian financial crisis (AFC) brought misery upon millions of people, particularly in Thailand, Indonesia, and South Korea. But if the crisis blindsided Asian governments, it also prompted their leaders to envision greater ambitions for East Asian regionalism. Such ambitions are revealed in the second section of this chapter. I trace the emergence of three multilateral processes in the decade after the AFC—the ASEAN Plus Three, the East Asia Summit, and the Six-Party Talks. Taken together, these three institutions signified greater political will behind regional multilateralism. At the same time, they also revealed the contentious nature of institution building. I then juxtapose the discussion on multilateral developments in the region with an analysis of the US–South Korea and US-Thailand alliances. With the US–South Korean alliance experiencing arguably its worst crisis in decades, and the US-Thai alliance slowly losing its relevance, the hub-and-spokes system faced serious challenges from within. Yet even in an era of greater multilateralism and expanding regionalism, these alliances remained resilient.

From Regionalization to Regionalism Building an East Asian Community Before delving into data that point toward regional integration in East Asia, a few personal anecdotes may bring to life the idea of an emerging East Asian community that inspired regional leaders at the time. When I was studying Korean language at Seoul National University (SNU) in 2000 –2001, the most common language overheard in the hallways was surprisingly neither Korean nor English but Japanese. Japanese nationals accounted for the largest group of students in the intermediate and advanced classes at SNU, and my Japanese classmates seemed to genuinely embrace South Korea and Korean culture. During this period, Korean dramas had taken on a cultlike following in Japan, particularly among Japanese

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homemakers. The South Korean tourism industry capitalized on this phenomenon, welcoming Japanese visitors and their wallets. If hallyu— or the “Korean Wave”—brought a newfound appreciation for Korean pop culture in Japan, Japanese culture had been penetrating South Korean tastes since the colonial era. Traveling with Japanese friends from my Koreanlanguage class to Kyoto and Osaka, I was struck by the similarities in shopping experience between Japanese and Korean department stores. The store layout, the friendly but aggressive beckoning of customers by salespeople, and the polite elevator girls with powder-white faces and brimmed hats were all strikingly familiar. It is perhaps more than symbolic that the main branch of the Shinsege Department Store in central Seoul was originally built as a Mitsukoshi Department Store. When I visited the language program at SNU in 2005, Chinese students had begun to rival the number of students from Japan wanting to learn Korean. When I traveled to the Philippines in 2006, it was hard to avoid the splash of the Korean Wave. Billboard signs advertising the hit Korean drama Lovely Kim Sam Soon were unavoidable on the streets of Manila. The sounds of K-pop had become ubiquitous in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and parts of Southeast Asia. These sounds were, of course, modeled after J-pop in Japan. Koreans have exploited this connection, cultivating homegrown pop stars in the 1990s for marketing in Japan. Talent agencies and music producers provided intensive Japanese language training (and also English and later Chinese) to market their future stars across the region and the globe. My experiences in the early to mid-2000s were filtered through Korea lenses. An emerging East Asian community might also be viewed from a Japanese, Chinese, or Philippine perspective as well. Regardless of the national lens from which one constructs a narrative of East Asian community building, an outsider traveling in the region will likely feel and experience regional integrating forces at work.

Production Networks and Regional Economic Integration Anecdotal evidence is, of course, easily countered with contradicting vignettes that highlight interregional hatred, nationalism, and xenophobia. But more tangible measures of regionalism also point to bottom-up and top-down processes of regional integration. East Asian regionalization had already blossomed by the 1990s, fueled by the expansion of Japanese business production networks. The trend would continue into the 2000s, led by rapid economic growth in China. As stated in a report by the World Trade Organization, IDE, and JETRO, “The

table 4.1 Toyota Motor Company production affiliates in Asia Location

Operations established Products

Bangladesh Aftab Automobiles

Dhaka

1982

China

Tianjin Fengjin Auto Parts Co., Ltd. (TFAP) Tianjin FAW Toyota Engine Co., Ltd. (TFTE) Tianjin Toyota Forging Co., Ltd. (TTFC) Toyota Motor (China) Investment Co., Ltd Tianjin Toyota Press Tianjin Toyota Resin Tianjin FAW Toyota Motor (TFTM) FAW Toyota (Changchun) Engine Co., Ltd. (FTCE) Toyota FAW (Tianjin) Dies Co., Ltd. (TFTD) Guangqi Toyota Engine Co., Ltd. (GTE) Sichuan FAW Toyota Motor Co., Ltd. (SFTM) Guangzhou Toyota Motor Co., Ltd. (GTMC) Kuozui Motors

Tianjin

1998

Tianjin

1998

Land Cruiser Prado, Hino bus Continuous velocity joints, axles Engines

Tianjin

1998

Forging Parts, CVJ (2012)

2001

Regional Headquarters

Tianjin Tianjin Tianjin

2002 2002 2002

Stamping parts Plastic parts Corolla, Vios, Crown, Reiz

Changchun

2004

Engines

Tianjin

2004

Stamping dies for vehicles

Guangqi

2004

Chengdu

2000

Guangzhou

2006

Engines, engine parts (Cam shafts, crank shafts) Coaster, Land Cruiser 100, Prado, Prius Camry

Taipei

1986

Toyota Kirloskar Motor Private (TKM) Toyota Kirloskar Auto Parts Private (TKAP) PT. Toyota Motor Manufacturing Indonesia (TMMIN) PT. Astra Daihatsu Motor (ADM) PT. Hino Motors Manufacturing Indonesia (HMMI) PT. Sugity Creatives Assembly Services Sdn. Bhd (ASSB)

Bangalore

1999

Bangalore

2002

Karawang, Jakarta

1970

Country

Taiwan India

Indonesia

Malaysia

TMC affiliate company

Pakistan Indus Motor Company (IMC) Philippines Toyota Auto Parts Philippines (TAP) Toyota Motor Philippines (TMP) Thailand

Siam Toyota Manufacturing (STM)

Camry, Corolla, HiAce, Vios, Zace, Wish, Dyna, engines, stamping parts Innowa, Corolla Axles, propeller shafts, transmissions Kijiang Innova, Kijiang P/U, engines

2003

Avanza

2009

Dyna

Shah Alam, Selangor

1968

Karachi Santa Cruz

1993 1992

Paranaque, Metro Manila PhanthongChonburi

1989 1989

Noah Camry, Corolla, Vios, HiAce, Hilux, Innova, Fortuner, engines Corolla, Innova Transmissions, continuous velocity joints Camry, Corolla, Innova Engines, propeller shafts, casting (black, head) (continued)

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table 4.1  (continued) Country

Vietnam Singapore

TMC affiliate company

Location

Operations established Products

Toyota Auto Body Thailand Samut Prakarn Toyota Motor Thailand (TMT) Chachoengsao

1979 1964

Thai Auto Works (TAW) Toyota Motor Asia Pacific Engineering and Manufacturing Co., Ltd. (TMAP-EM) Toyota Motor Vietnam (TMV)

Samut Prakarn

1988 2003

Hanoi

1996

Toyota Motor Asia Pacific Pte Ltd. (TMAP-MS)

Singapore

1990

Stamping parts Camry, Corolla, Vios, Wish, Hilux Vigo, Yaris Fortuner, Hilux, VIGO Regional Headquarters

Camry, Corolla, Vios, HiAce, Land Cruiser, Innova Regional headquarters

s o u r c e : Toyota Motor Company, https://newsroom.toyota.co.jp/en/corporate/companyinformation/worldwide/.

complementarily of Asian production systems is both a cause and a result of the deepening economic interdependency between countries.”2 Similarly, Christopher Dent argues that “deepening international production networks and supply chain development has brought qualitative changes to East Asia’s regional economic integration and strengthened systemic interdependencies among the region’s economies.”3 Production networks, which allowed for segmentation of the manufacturing process and trade in components, have significantly boosted intraregional trade since the end of the Cold War. By the mid-2000s, regional linkages had spread across East Asia. China in particular had become a central location for assembling parts and components produced in other Asian countries.4 To illustrate the breadth of production networks, Table 4.1 provides the location of all Toyota Motor Corporation production facilities in East Asia in 2013. Similar production networks exist for Honda and the South Korean automaker Hyundai. Other household name brands such as Lenovo, Toshiba, and Samsung in the electronics industry, or Giordano and Uniqlo in the textile and apparel industry, have also helped forge transborder linkages in East Asia. Although assembly and processing of inputs imported for export are driven by demand from outside of the region (i.e., United States and European Union), making imports rather than exports the key to regional trade integration, the market for intermediate goods has become highly integrated. Shares of intra–East Asian trade increased from 31.7 percent in 1990 to 42.0 percent in 2008.5 Furthermore, as indicated in Table 4.2, intraregional trade among East Asian economies increased relative to the volume of trade with the rest of the world, demonstrating the intensity of trade in East Asia.

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table 4.2 Interregional export of goods as percentage of global trade 2001 East Asia/World

2007 East Asia/World

52.4% 57.3% 39.6% 44.6% 55.5% 52.0% 54.5% 49.4% 47.2%

62.3% 61.9% 46.9% 48.4% 55.6% 61.3% 61.7% 53.0% 53.7%

China Indonesia Japan South Korea Malaysia Philippines Singapore Thailand TOTAL

n o t e : East Asia includes China, Japan, South Korea and the ten ASEAN countries. s o u r c e : Asian Development Bank.

USA

400

China

ASEAN

Export & Import ($ billion)

350 300 250 200 150 100 50

3 19 95 19 97 19 99 20 01 20 03 20 05 20 07 20 09 20 11 20 13 20 15

91

9

19 9

19

87

19 8

85

19

19

19 8

3

0

figure 4.1  Japan’s trade with the US, China, and ASEAN s o u r c e : IMF Direction of Trade Statistics.

Even Japan and South Korea, once tightly integrated to the US market during the Cold War, experienced a shift in trade patterns making the argument for regionalism all the more compelling. As figures 4.1 and 4.2 indicate, South Korea and Japan’s volume of trade (export and imports) with both China and ASEAN, respectively, surpassed that of the United States around the mid-2000s. By 2010, the total volume of trade with ASEAN from both South Korea and Japan had also surpassed trade volume with the United States. Growth in intraregional trade was largely market-driven in the 1990s. By the early 2000s, however, governments were actively promoting trade relations through bilateral and multilateral free trade agreements (FTAs). These FTAs were

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USA

89

ASEAN

China

Export & Import ($ billion)

200

150

100

50

13

15 20

11

09

20

20

07

20

05

20

03

20

20

01

99

97

20

19

95

19

93

19

91

19

89

19

87

19

85

19

19

19

83

0

figure 4.2  South Korea’s trade with the US, China, and ASEAN s o u r c e : IMF Direction of Trade Statistics.

intended to encourage further reductions in regulatory barriers on standards, services, competition, and investment.6 Some critics have argued that the burgeoning network of FTAs and RTAs (otherwise known as the “Asian noodle bowl”), “rather than consolidating and harmonizing the rules of trade . . . may inevitably compete with and undercut existing agreements.”7 Nevertheless, the rise of FTAs does suggest a desire for greater intraregional economic cooperation on the part of East Asian policy makers.

Financial Integration Regarding financial integration, the share of equity investment outflows in East Asia relative to the rest of the world had steadily increased from the first half of the 2000s from 10.6 percent in 2001 to 25.5 percent in 2007.8 This fell short of the degree and intensity of interregional trade in the goods market. However, the trend did suggest an increase in capital investment flows circulating within the region. In addition to market-driven financial integration, the aftermath of  the 1997 Asian financial crisis prompted East Asian governments to foster greater financial and monetary cooperation. One example was the Chiang Mai Initiative (CMI), established by the finance ministers of the APT in 2000 as a network of bilateral swap arrangements between central banks to stabilize currencies in the event of a financial crisis. As Amy Searight explains, “The CMI allows a country

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under attack to swap its ‘soft’ home currency for hard currency held by other central banks in order to obtain short term liquidity.”9 Additionally, with support from the Asian Development Bank and the Japanese Ministry of Finance, East Asian governments established the Asian Bond Market Initiative (ABMI) in 2003. The ABMI was created with the purpose of facilitating a more liquid bond market in Asia by relying on regional savings for investment in East Asia without having to rely on foreign markets.10

Human Capital and Study Abroad Education Cross-national movement of workers, students, and tourists also suggests upward trends in people-to-people interaction within East Asia. As one WTO-sponsored report argued, regional trade has increased employment opportunities for most countries in East Asia, “reflecting the deepening interdependency of regional employment.”11 Although oil-rich countries in the Middle East continue to capture the greatest percentage of Asian labor migration, migration within Asia grew from the early 1990s. The general trend has been movement from less-developed countries such as China, India, Vietnam, Philippines, and Indonesia to industrialized countries and cities such as Singapore, Hong Kong, South Korea, and Japan. In Northeast Asia, South Korea and Japan witnessed an uptick in the size of Chinese foreign labor in the 2000s. OECD data in Figure 4.3 indicates a particularly sharp increase in Chinese foreign labor in South Korea from 2007.

350,000 300,000

Number of laborers

250,000 200,000 Japan Korea

150,000 100,000 50,000 0 2000

2001

2002

2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

figure 4.3  Chinese foreign labor in Japan and South Korea, 2000 –2009 s o u r c e : OECD International Migration Database, http://stats.oecd.org/Index.aspx?datasetcode=MIG.

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Other countries such as Thailand and Malaysia have functioned as both recipient and source nations for migration.12 It is difficult to ascertain the true numbers of intraregional migration given the large number of undocumented workers and illegal immigrants in Asia. For example, a 2008 Asian Development Bank report estimated that there are 2.4 million unauthorized migrants from developed parts of Asia residing in Malaysia.13 The International Labor Organization (ILO) has estimated that up to one-quarter of migrant workers in Asia are undocumented.14 Rising labor mobility does not necessarily imply greater regional integration. Racism and nationalist attitudes often follow foreign workers, even as civil societal organizations in developed nations such as South Korea and Singapore push for greater social provisions and multicultural awareness.15 Nevertheless, demographic trends in developed and developing parts of Asia do suggest a steady rise in interregional migration in the upcoming decade. As noted in a World Bank study: A well-managed labor migration strategy presents itself as a mechanism for ameliorating the impending labor shortages in some East-Asia Pacific countries, while providing an opportunity for other countries with excess labor to provide migrant workers that will contribute to the development of the home country through greater remittance flows.16

Labor shortages in countries such as South Korea and Japan have already put pressure on governments to create a more hospitable environment for foreign workers. These trends all suggest that East Asia will continue to experience an increase in cross-border labor migration.17 Study abroad trends in Asia in the 2000s also indicated greater transnational exchanges from the 1990s. International students in Asian countries generally outnumbered students from other regions. In 2009, the top-five groups of foreign nationals studying in Japan were all from Asia. Students from China accounted for the largest population, followed by South Korea, Taiwan, Vietnam, and Malaysia.18 Regarding short-term study-abroad experiences, students from China and South Korea accounted for nearly half of all international students studying in Japan. With the exception of a large contingent of American students, similar trends in study-abroad patterns existed in China. In 2012, there were 63,488 South Korean students studying in China, far outnumbering any other national group. Coming in a distant second were American students, at 24,583, closely followed by those from Japan, Thailand, Russia, Vietnam, and Indonesia.19 In South Korea, Chinese students outnumbered the second-largest group from Japan by a factor of more than ten, with 59,217 students in 2011. Students from Japan were followed by Mongolia, the United States, Vietnam, and Indonesia.20

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Multilateral Regional Governance Bottom-up processes of regional integration have been followed by top-down led initiatives of regional governance. Table 4.3 provides a list of regional institutions that have emerged since the end of the Cold War. The growth in multilateral initiatives suggests that policy makers have been active in facilitating track I and track II multilateral dialogues and building new avenues for regional cooperation. The creation of multilateral processes such as the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation, the ASEAN Plus Three, the Korean Economic Development Organization, the Trilateral Summit, and the track 1.5 Shangri-La Dialogue have created space for ministers, legislators, bureaucrats, and military officers to exchange information and coordinate meetings across national boundaries. Adopting Anne-Marie Slaughter’s work on global policy networks to the level of regions, one might argue that a complex web of “government networks” has helped generate new forms of regional governance in Asia.21 The proliferation of multilateral institutions is not just a reflection of regionalism but an enabler of regional integration. Taken together, various pieces of evidence suggest, at the very least, that East Asia had become more integrated as a region by the 2000s than at any other point in the postwar period. Although a positive direction for the region, such trends can be construed to paint an overly optimistic portrayal of regionalism. In reaction, David Martin Jones and Michael Smith have appeared as two of the harshest critics against regional optimism.22 Denying any significant movement toward a regional community, the authors cite the marriage of constructivist international relations theory with zealous proponents of ASEAN norms in the late 1990s as distorting the empirical record on regional integration. John Ravenhill, a leading authority on East Asian regionalism, provides a more balanced assessment. While acknowledging modest levels of regionalization in the 1990s and “a whole new architecture of regional institutions” created after the AFC, he questions their efficacy in promoting better governance. For Ravenhill, “the institutions that have been constructed, however, mirror the deficiencies of those created under ASEAN’s auspices. They are often little more than consultative forums. Cooperation remains shallow. Governments have seldom been willing to accept even the most modest of constraints on their autonomy in policy-making as the price of constructing East Asian institutions.”23 Ravenhill’s remarks are corroborated by a major study by the Asian Development Bank. Although the ADB finds that regionalism has progressed more in East Asia than in the Asia-Pacific as a whole, “economic integration has advanced unevenly across functional areas.”24

table 4.3 Selected post–Cold War regional institutions in Asia (track I only)

APEC

Institution

Year

Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation

1991

TRADP/GTI Greater Tumen Initiative ARF ASEAN Regional Forum

KEDO

Korean Peninsula Energy Development Organization

TCOG APT CMI TSD SPT EAS

Trilateral Cooperation and Oversight Group ASEAN + 3 Chiang Mai Initiative Trilateral Security Dialogue Six-Party Talks East Asia Summit

TPP

Trans-Pacific Partnership

QSD TCS

Quadrennial Security Dialogue Trilateral Cooperative Secretariat

Members

Australia, Canada, Brunei Darussalam, Indonesia, Japan, ROK, Malaysia, New Zealand, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, US, China (1991), Hong Kong (1991), Taiwan (1991), Mexico (1993), Papua New Guinea (1993), Chile (1994), Peru (1998), Russia (1998), Vietnam (1998) 1993 Russia, China, DPRK (dropped 2005); ROK (1995) 1994 Australia, Bangladesh, Brunei Darussalam, Cambodia, Canada, China, DPRK, European Union, India, Indonesia, Japan, Laos, Malaysia, Mongolia, Myanmar, New Zealand, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Philippines, ROK, Russia, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Thailand, East Timor, United States, and Vietnam 1995 US, ROK, Japan, Australia (1995), Canada (1995), New Zealand (1995), Argentina (1996), Chile (1996), Indonesia (1996), EU (1997), Poland (1997), Czech (1999), Uzbekistan (2000) 1999-2003 US, Japan, ROK 1999 ASEAN Members, China, Japan, ROK 2000 ASEAN + 3 Members 2002 US, Australia, Japan 2003 US, China, ROK, DPRK, Japan, Russia 2005 Brunei, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, the Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Australia, China, India, Japan, New Zealand, ROK, US (2011), Russia (2011) 2005 Australia (2008), Brunei (2005), Chile (2005), Canada (2012), Japan (2013), Malaysia (2010), Mexico (2012), NZ (2005), Peru (2008), Singapore (2005), US? (2008), Vietnam (2008) 2007 US, Japan, India, Australia 2008 China, Japan, ROK

Primary issue Economic

Environment Security

Energy

Security Diplomatic Economic/Currency Security Security Diplomatic

Economic

Diplomatic

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In contrast to a norms- or identity-based interpretation of East Asian regionalism, a historical institutional approach provides a more measured account of institution building. What stands out is the degree of contingency in the development of the regional architecture, due in part to institutional choices made earlier in time. Contrary to earlier theoretical assumptions, the idea that regional integrating trends would soon elevate multilateralism over bilateralism turned out to be premature. In the following section, three different multilateral processes— the APT, the EAS, and the SPT—are examined more closely to highlight how regional institution building proceeded in the decade after the Asian financial crisis. East Asia’s regional architecture experienced incremental change through processes of institutional layering. However, the desire to stick to the familiar and routine meant that new multilateral initiatives would overlap with preexisting institutions, thereby ensuring continuity in the regional architecture.

The Emerging East Asian Regional Architecture The Asian Financial Crisis and the ASEAN Plus Three The existing literature on Asian regionalism treats the Asian financial crisis (AFC) in 1997–1998 as a critical juncture and a major catalyst behind East Asian regionalism. If the arrival of APEC and ARF in the early 1990s set the tone for post– Cold War regional institution building in Asia, it was the AFC that invigorated policy makers to look beyond institutions and think for the longer term about building an East Asian community and implementing the practical steps required to move in that direction. Historical institutional analysis often incorporates the important role of exogenous shocks in driving change. In this case, the AFC acted as both a signal and trigger for change. As a signal, the AFC exposed the weakness of existing regional institutions. ASEAN and APEC remained largely impotent throughout the crisis. Rather than turn to regional institutions, crisis-stricken countries instead turned to the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and other global actors for assistance. As a trigger, the crisis magnified tensions between East Asian and Western members of APEC. The Anglo economies wanted binding, comprehensive targets with tighter rules for trade liberalization. In contrast, developing economies supported trade facilitation over trade liberalization.25 Noting this divide among APEC members, ASEAN secretary general Rodolfo Severino argued that “public discourse on APEC and . . . much of the discussions within APEC itself, have tended to focus almost exclusively on the liberalization agenda and, within that agenda, on the products of particular interest to certain developed economies.”26 Coalition dynamics within APEC began to shift with Japan’s op-

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position to the adoption of the early voluntary sectoral liberalization pushed by developed, Western countries. Japan’s shift toward ASEAN’s (and China’s) position temporarily opened political space for advancing a more exclusive East Asia grouping. More generally, East Asian governments expressed resentment toward the West for its perceived weak and inappropriate response to the crisis. South Korea and Thailand were particularly incensed after IMF austerity measures inflicted even greater economic pain on their economies and citizens. Ultimately, the AFC renewed efforts to build a new foundation for East Asian solidarity.27 As Jones and Smith describe, “The growing belief that the outside world had neglected Asia in its hour of need fed a burgeoning sense of resentment and incited the idea of East Asian regionalism. Regionalism offered the promise of Asian solutions for Asian problems.”28 The need for stronger regional mechanisms between Northeast and Southeast Asia in an increasingly interdependent region became painfully clear.29 As the deputy prime minister of Thailand acknowledged, “We cannot rely on the World Bank, Asian Development Bank, or IMF . . . we must rely instead on regional cooperation.”30 The AFC accelerated the pace of institution building by generating new demand for regional financial cooperation and strengthening political will behind East Asian regionalism. The AFC may therefore constitute an important critical juncture in the evolution of East Asia’s regional architecture as noted by several scholars.31 However, by placing too much emphasis on exogenous shocks, the mechanisms that underlie macroinstitutional change become obscured. The financial crisis alone did not produce the APT. In fact, the driving principles behind the APT existed even prior to the financial crisis. The precursor to the APT was of course Mahathir Mohammad’s East Asian Economic Group (EAEG) in the early 1990s (discussed in Chapter 3). The EAEG never came to full fruition. But the idea of a pan–East Asian grouping never completely disappeared either. Opportunities for intergovernmental cooperation between Northeast Asia and Southeast Asia opened with the establishment of the biennial Asia-Europe Meeting (ASEM) in 1995.32 In preparation for discussion with EU members at ASEM, ASEAN policy makers met their counterparts from China, Japan, and South Korea in advance to coordinate their positions vis-à-vis discussions with the European Union. Such informal meetings between Northeast and Southeast Asian officials continued in late 1996 and early 1997 in preparation for the next ASEM, scheduled for 1998.33 Apart from ASEM preparation meetings, Japan and China both expressed interest in holding separate summit meetings with ASEAN during this period.34 In response, ASEAN agreed to host a gathering with leaders from Japan, South Korea, and China at an informal ASEAN summit in December 1997 in Kuala

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Lumpur. ASEAN delegates also scheduled separate meetings with each of the three Northeast Asian countries.35 Before proceeding with a more detailed discussion of APT’s institutional trajectory, it is important to note the timing of these events. The first APT meeting had already been set in motion before the crisis. Although the financial crisis reinvigorated the process of East Asian regionalism and helped shape the early agenda of the APT framework, the APT was not the product of an external shock per se. As former ASEAN secretary general Severino argued, the creation of the APT was a “form of state recognition of what had already been long happening on the ground—increasing interaction between Northeast and Southeast Asia.”36 Understandably, when searching for explanations for political change, our attention naturally gravitates toward big events and critical junctures. The true test for critical juncture theorists, however, comes in the form of a counterfactual: had the AFC not occurred, would East Asian regionalism have proceeded along a similar trajectory? As argued earlier, the process of regional integration accelerated after the AFC and East Asian states were more willing to promote new regional institutions. In that sense, the AFC may have functioned as a critical juncture. In hindsight, however, the drive for an exclusive pan-Asian version of regionalism has not borne out, leaving questions regarding the longer-term significance of the AFC on the regional architecture. Macroinstitutional change is the product of slow-moving endogenous processes, not just large external shocks. As such, the historical institutional context becomes much more important in explaining not just why but how regional institutional change occurs. In discussing the rise of the APT and the trajectory of East Asia’s institutional architecture more generally, it is hard to deny the weight and influence of preexisting structures such as ASEAN and bilateral alliances. More specifically, the weakness of the APT and the somewhat haphazard nature of regional institution building stemmed from the reluctance of several key members to commit to an exclusive pan-Asian grouping. Instead, actors created institutions that would accommodate membership to other, more inclusive regional groupings such as APEC, which originated before the APT, and coexist with structures already in place such as US bilateral alliances. At the first APT meeting in Kuala Lumpur, attention naturally gravitated toward improving regional financial cooperation.37 At the sixth ASEAN Summit in Hanoi in 1998, the leaders of ASEAN and China, Japan, and Korea agreed to formalize their meeting the following year as an official ASEAN Plus Three (APT) grouping. As outlined in the Hanoi Declaration, ASEAN would shift toward “a higher plane of regional cooperation in order to strengthen ASEAN’s effective-

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ness in dealing with the challenges of growing interdependence within ASEAN and of its integration into the global economy.”38 This included separate ministerial and senior official meetings among APT nations. Additionally, South Korean president Kim Dae-Jung proposed the East Asian Vision Group, to be formally commissioned in 1999 at the APT Summit. Composed of eminent intellectuals, the group was charged with the task of “drawing up a vision for mid-to-long term cooperation in East Asia for the 21st century . . . by explor[ing] ways to expand and intensify mid-to-long term cooperation in political and socio-cultural sectors, including economic ties to facilitate further development.”39 The Third APT Summit, in Manila (recognized as the first official APT meeting), in November 1999 marked a watershed for East Asian multilateralism. Realistic about the limitations of regionalism but also optimistic about the “bright prospect for enhanced interaction and closer linkages,” the leaders agreed to “advance the dialogue process and strengthen cooperation with a view to advancing East Asian collaboration in priority areas of shared interest.”40 This included building on existing and new consultative mechanisms in the areas of economic cooperation, monetary and financial cooperation, social and human resources development, scientific and technical development, and political-security cooperation.41 Separate ministerial meetings were held by APT finance, economic, and foreign ministers throughout the following year. Of significance was the informal gathering of APT finance ministers organized at the Asian Development Bank’s annual meeting in May 2000 in Chiang Mai, Thailand. There, finance ministers established the Chiang Mai Initiative (CMI), a system of bilateral currency swap agreements to ease future short-term liquidity constraints and to better coordinate regional financial cooperation.42 By 2002, the APT process had expanded to include political and security issues. The Sixth APT Summit agenda covered issues such as terrorism, transnational crime, and nonproliferation on the Korean Peninsula.43 At the end of 2007, the APT process offered forty-eight mechanisms for cooperation across sixteen areas.44 In addition to financial, economic, and political cooperation, ministerial level meetings were convened for other less visible issues, including tourism, agriculture, environment, energy, information technology, labor, and health, among others.45 East Asian regionalism, at least in form, had taken off by the early 2000s. As summarized in the East Asia Study Group Final Report: The 1997 Asian financial crisis has awakened the urgent need for institutionalized cooperation and stronger economic integration that transcends the geographical distinction between Northeast Asia and Southeast Asia. Since its inception in 1997, the ASEAN+3 process has taken up various measures to expand and deepen cooperation

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between the two sub-regions, and East Asian countries are now taking concrete steps toward achieving the goals of closer integration and overcoming commonly-held challenges.46

Translating the EAVG recommendations into practical measures, steps toward deeper regional cooperation in the short term included forming an East Asia business council, building a network of implementing East Asian think tanks, establishing poverty reduction programs, and promoting East Asian studies in the region. In the medium to long term, East Asian officials recommended forming the East Asian Free Trade Area, developing a more closely coordinated regional exchange rate mechanism, and pursuing the evolution of the APT Summit into an East Asia Summit.47 As Jones and Smith state, “The promotion of East Asian integration thus became the principal justification for subsequent APT summits and constituted the most important regional political reaction to the financial crisis, becoming the embryo of an East Asian regional organization.”48 The APT displayed all the signs of institutional consolidation, attested to by the number of summits, senior officials meetings, and working groups in its first decade of existence. Did any of this matter? Could the APT deliver long-term benefits to the region in the form of regional cooperation and greater economic and political stability? Was there any substance behind the pageantry? These questions lingered at the dawn of the East Asia Summit. For regional optimists, the EAS opened a visible path toward an expanding regional community. For skeptics, it perpetuated existing rifts between East Asian actors. Asia’s regional architecture was not evolving in a clear, linear direction but instead expanding in a contentious, uneven, and at times ad hoc manner.

East Asia Summit The East Asia Summit (EAS) essentially developed out of the APT process. First manifest in the ambitiously titled 2001 East Asia Vision Group Report, “Towards an East Asian Community,” the report recommended that APT members transform the annual summit meetings of the APT into an East Asian Summit. The recommendation was endorsed the following year by members of the East Asia Study Group (EASG) as a high-priority long-term objective.49 The EASG noted that “East Asian cooperation is both inevitable and necessary, that the deeper integration of an East Asian community is beneficial and desirable, and that such integration in East Asia will evolve over time.”50 However, the report also struck a cautious note, relaying concerns that an abrupt transition from the APT to EAS would push ASEAN to the sidelines. The working group therefore agreed to present “a balanced view” regarding the EAS as a process evolving out of the APT framework.51

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When first articulated, officials assumed that the APT would naturally evolve into the EAS. The EAS would merely adopt the APT framework and subsume all its work programs.52 At the 2004 APT Summit in Vientiane, Laos, APT leaders agreed to convene the first East Asia Summit in Kuala Lumpur in 2005.53 However, they decided that the EAS would convene as a separate entity from the APT with its own summit meeting.54 Why did the EAS branch out as a separate process? Broadly speaking, APT members embraced the idea of the EAS as another practical step toward regional community building. However, different opinions existed as to how the EAS would actually be realized.55 Thus at the time of its emergence in the mid-2000s, the EAS became “neither a substitute for the APT nor a distinctly separate mechanism in its own right.”56 China and Malaysia preferred retaining the current structure and membership of APT with the APT transitioning into an EAS. However, China was keen on expanding the EAS chairmanship to all participants, not just ASEAN members as was the case in the APT.57 In contrast to China, Japan (supported by Singapore and Indonesia) lobbied for a more inclusive form of regionalism. In particular, these countries vouched for the expansion of EAS membership to include Australia, India, and New Zealand in an effort to dilute China’s rising regional influence.58 Meanwhile, ASEAN states, as in the past, expressed concern over its eroding relevance should the EAS eventually replace the APT. To maintain its centrality, ASEAN officials once again insisted it be recognized as the “driving force” behind the EAS and that the EAS uphold the values of ASEAN.59 Finally, the United States remained distant if not skeptical of yet another East Asian “talk shop.”60 As an actor outside the geographic scope of East Asia, the US was mostly sidelined from early discussions on regional institution building.61 Steeped in community-building rhetoric, the Kuala Lumpur Declaration offered more of a hopeful vision for the future rather than an accurate reading of present realities. Nevertheless, it would be hard to deny the sense of optimism and aspirations for regional integration found in the declaration. Believing that the EAS “could play a significant role in community building in the region,” member states “established the East Asia Summit as a forum for dialogue on broad strategic, political and economic issues of common interest and concern with the aim of promoting peace, stability and economic prosperity in East Asia.”62 From the outset, leaders agreed that the EAS would be used as a vehicle to address a comprehensive range of issues. This included a focus on three broad areas: (1) fostering strategic dialogue and promoting cooperation in political and security issues; (2) promoting development, financial stability, energy security, economic integration, and growth, in order to eradicate poverty and narrow the

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development gap in East Asia; and (3) promoting deeper cultural understanding, people-to-people contact, and enhanced cooperation to uplift the lives and wellbeing of people, and to foster mutual trust and solidarity.63 The first EAS was placed in the broader context of East Asian regionalism as “an integral part of the overall evolving regional architecture.”64 As noted in the Chairman’s Statement, “the EAS together with the ASEAN+3 and the ASEAN+1 processes could play a significant role in community building in the region.”65 The leaders also agreed that the EAS would continue to be a leadersled summit for strategic discussions on key issues affecting the region and the evolving regional architecture.66 Building on the APT, the EAS was “fundamentally motivated by the desire to transform the APT into a broader and holistic regional body.”67 Leaving open the possibility for further growth, the leaders argued that the EAS should remain “an open, inclusive, transparent, and outwardlooking forum.”68 Following the Asian financial crisis, the APT steered actors away from the Asia-Pacific brand of regionalism embodied by APEC and ARF toward a more exclusive East Asian brand. The EAS now swung the pendulum toward a hybrid form of regionalism, something in between an Asia-Pacific and East Asian model. As Deepak Nair argues, the geographic conception of East Asia was stretched from Northeast and Southeast Asia to include South Asia and the wider Pacific region. Describing the EAS, Nair states, “As it stood, the EAS represented a remarkable qualification, a baffling revision, of the exclusive Asian principle that had been pursued since the Asian financial crisis. Instead of becoming the transformative vehicle for the APT, the EAS had come to articulate an alternative conception of East Asia.”69 Different preferences regarding the trajectory of Asia’s regional architecture thus resurfaced with the creation of the EAS. At the micro level, the APT and EAS represented different paths to regional institution building. At the macroinstitutional level, however, the acceptance of the EAS indicated that the regional architecture would continue to evolve through a process of layering with new institutions overlapping and emerging in conjunction with existing regional institutions. Thus, regional actors continued to convene regularly through the APT, ARF, and APEC, even after the arrival of new multilateral mechanisms capable of replacing or subsuming the functions of older institutions. Additionally, East Asian institutions were prone to drift given their informal nature and imprecise (or loosely interpreted) rules. Such processes of institutional layering and drift have resulted in incremental change while also reinforcing mechanisms of continuity in the regional architecture. EAS enlargement appears to support a balancing logic behind regional institution building, particularly between China and Japan as both nations seek to

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expand their own role and check the influence of the other by creating or joining new institutions.70 Geopolitical motives have led individual states to promote some regional institutions and not others. However, what institutional-balancing does not explain as well is how Asia’s institutional architecture has developed since the AFC. By promoting the EAS, a plurality of Asian actors were settling for a big-tent approach to regionalism— one that would accept multiple and at times competing institutional arrangements. At the micro level, policy makers may have acted rationally in pursuing various institutional outcomes that suited their economic and strategic needs. But at the macro level, we find that the process of post–Cold War institution building moved in fits and starts, appearing more uneven and ad hoc than suggested by theories of rational institutional ­design.

Six-Party Talks What about regional frameworks emerging outside of the ASEAN family of institutions? As an ad hoc forum borne out of the second North Korean nuclear crisis in the early 2000s, the Six-Party Talks (SPT) represented a multilateral process different from that of the APT or EAS. The SPT was designed to address a specific security concern in Northeast Asia. Delegates from the six nations—the United States, China, Russia, Japan, and the two Koreas—met from 2003 until 2009, when North Korean provocations effectively ended discussions. Despite its failure in stopping North Korea’s nuclear program, the SPT is still worth investigating for at least two reasons. First, the SPT constituted the first major multilateral forum dedicated to security consultations in Northeast Asia.71 Second, and more germane to developments in the regional architecture, several policy makers expressed interest in transforming the SPT into a permanent security forum following the 2005 joint statement. This suggested a real possibility for the emergence of a Northeast Asian multilateral security institution. The SPT therefore offers insight into the process and limitations of institution building in Asia, particularly in the area of regional security.72 The SPT centered on the common goal of dismantling North Korea’s nuclear program. But why did policy makers create a new multilateral process rather than rely on existing multilateral channels such as the Korean Peninsula Energy Development Organization (KEDO) or ARF? After all, KEDO was designed to facilitate interaction between North Korea and member countries responsible for meeting North Korea’s energy needs as part of the 1994 US-DPRK Agreed Framework designed to halt North Korea’s nuclear program.73 And although KEDO may have been an “inadequate, incomplete, and unintended model for institutionalization of multilateral co-operation in the North Pacific region,” it

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still represented the most concrete attempt at “functional multilateralism” in the early 2000s.74 Nevertheless, the unraveling of the US-DPRK Agreed Framework, coupled with the George W. Bush administration’s hard-line position on North Korea, made KEDO an unlikely mechanism to address North Korea’s second nuclear crisis. The ARF could have functioned as a potential alternative space for addressing North Korea’s nuclear weapons program. At the time, it was the only multilateral security forum in Asia. North Korea had also joined ARF as a member in 2000. Yet the joint statements found in ARF, as well as APEC and the APT, did little more than express “deep concern” and a call for “peaceful resolution” to the nuclear situation. At an ARF intersessional meeting on confidence building measures in November 2002, participants merely rehashed statements provided at earlier APEC and APT meetings. Repeating for verbatim a statement on North Korea from the APT, ARF participants expressed their desire “for a nuclear weapons-free Korean peninsula and called upon the DPRK to visibly honor its commitment to give up nuclear weapons.”75 Without any viable mechanism translating such confidence building statements into preventative diplomatic action, existing multilateral institutions were unlikely to bring about a satisfactory resolution to a complex issue. Regional actors might have resorted to US bilateral relationships to deter North Korea from launching a direct nuclear attack. But strengthening US alliances without any means for dialogue with North Korea would only magnify North Korea’s apparent insecurity. This is not to argue that bilateral alliances played no role in coordinating a multilateral response to North Korea’s nuclear development. Even before the SPT, the United States intended to rely on its alliance with Japan and South Korea to leverage additional pressure against North Korea to abandon its nuclear weapons program. The US was particularly wary that Pyongyang might exploit weaknesses in the alliance at the negotiating table to extract additional concessions from the international community. The Bush administration therefore insisted that Japan and South Korea be included in any negotiating process to coordinate policy.76 Existing coordination mechanisms through bilateral relationships were insufficient in handling a crisis requiring assistance from players outside the US centered hub-and-spokes system. In particular, the US sought greater cooperation from China. An earlier appeal for assistance by President Bush at the 2002 US-China summit meeting was followed with a February 2003 trip to Beijing by Secretary of State Colin Powell. Powell urged China to play a stronger role in joining multilateral discussions and press North Korea to abandon its nuclear development.77

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Noting substantial energy and economic assistance flows from China to North Korea, Powell’s request was buoyed by his underlying belief that China wielded significant leverage over North Korea.78 The Bush administration also held pragmatic reasons for urging China to take on greater leadership on North Korean issues. Facing two simultaneous conflicts in the Middle East, the US was more than willing to share the burden on North Korea with other international partners.79 The Bush administration also adamantly refused to engage in direct bilateral talks with Pyongyang. Key engagement advocates in the Bush administration insisted on holding multilateral discussions with North Korea. Such a strategy decreased the possibility of North Korea playing off one state against another. Moreover, the multilateral approach gave other regional actors a stake in shaping Northeast Asia’s regional security. Any discussion between the two sides would require the mediation of Beijing in a multilateral setting. Under Beijing’s sponsorship, the first round of talks began in August 2003. The first three rounds of talks from 2003 and 2004 produced little ground. But a significant breakthrough appeared during the fourth round of talks in 2005 when North Korea declared its commitment to abandon all nuclear weapons and existing nuclear programs for the first time. At this point, the SPT began showing signs of greater potential not only in defusing the nuclear crisis but also in providing a new security mechanism for building trust among the six parties. The September 2005 joint statement included specific references to commit to “joint efforts for lasting peace and stability in Northeast Asia” and “to explore ways and means for promoting security cooperation in Northeast Asia.”80 To this end, the six parties established five separate working groups to address the following issues: denuclearization of the Korean Peninsula, normalization of DPRK-US relations, normalization of DPRK-Japan relations, economic and energy cooperation, and a Northeast Asia peace and security mechanism.81 The working groups were organized within thirty days of the February 2007 initial actions agreement. Working group members provided initial reports at the beginning of the sixth round of talks in March 2007. The groups convened again in August and September 2007. North Korea presented tangible signs of progress by adhering to its end of the bargain, disabling three core nuclear facilities in November 2007 and destroying cooling towers at the Yongbyon facility on June 2008. Although the SPT moved in fits and starts, “anticipation grew that once the nuclear issues was resolved the six countries would extend their interactions into a security mechanism for resolving disputes in Northeast Asia.”82 As the chief US negotiator Ambassador Christopher Hill remarked, “The SPT had the potential to develop into an em-

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bryonic form of a Northeast Asian regional organization.”83 Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice also shared this sentiment, stating that the SPT “might evolve into . . . the basis of a security mechanism for Northeast Asia” that could deal with “nuclear proliferation, terrorism, and, ultimately even security disputes.”84 Some scholars had suggested using the SPT process to construct a peace regime on the Korean Peninsula as an intermediate step between North Korean denuclearization and achieving the longer-term goal of creating a regional peace and security mechanism out of the SPT process.85 Others such as Francis Fukuyama advocated turning the SPT into a five-party forum (SPT minus North Korea) that would meet regularly to address security and economic problems.86 The broad appeal of converting the SPT into a more permanent multilateral institution was also recognized by policy makers and scholars in China and South Korea.87 All of this, of course, would come to a halt at the end of 2008, when negotiators failed to reach an agreement allowing for inspections at North Korean nuclear sites and Pyongyang declaring an end to further talks. Pyongyang would launch a series of missile and nuclear tests in subsequent years, effectively burying the SPT process. The details describing the politics and efficacy of the SPT can be found elsewhere.88 Placed in the context of regional institution building, however, the SPT sheds light on the opportunities and challenges confronting policy makers. At the most basic level, the SPT emerged because all six parties had a stake in maintaining regional security. At least five of the six parties shared both private and collective interests in a denuclearized North Korea. Unlike the 1990s, key players, particularly the United States and China, treated North Korea’s nuclear program as a wider regional problem rather than a crisis limited to the Korean Peninsula. In some respects, it was inevitable that nuclear negotiations would spill over to regional security issues. North Korea’s nuclear weapons program carried the potential of triggering a wider arms race and regional instability. For instance, a nuclear North Korea would surely keep US troops in East Asia on higher alert. Likewise, North Korea, acting as a common threat, would strengthen alliance coordination between the United States and East Asian partners. North Korean missile and nuclear tests would also provide Japan the rationale for expanding the role and capabilities of the Japanese Self-Defense Force (SDF). Responding to Japanese rearmament and strengthened US bilateral alliances, China would likely continue its rapid pace of military modernization. China’s military expansion could also place Russia on alert with tensions flaring in border areas or over energy security. Because North Korea’s nuclear program carried larger implications for Northeast Asia, adequate steps addressing broader regional security issues were included as part of the SPT process.

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As an ad hoc institution addressing a specific security problem, the SPT did not necessarily challenge or compete with existing organizations. If anything, its creation highlighted the void in Northeast Asia of an adequate security mechanism to manage regional conflict. As a thought experiment, had the SPT made significant headway on North Korean denuclearization, one might envision a multilateral institution today filling that void, layered on top of bilateral alliances and complementing existing multilateral frameworks such as the EAS and ARF. Operating on an informal basis, we would assume that Japan and South Korea would maintain their formal alliance ties to the US while using the SPT as a means of building confidence and averting crises with other regional actors. We might pinpoint the blame for the SPT’s failure on the North Koreans. But low levels of generalized trust among the remaining five parties also made it difficult to sustain a broader Northeast Asian security dialogue. The SPT presents a sobering reminder of the stop-and-go process of regional institution building in Asia, giving us pause for thought about the design and efficacy of regional institutions in this corridor of Asia. But the near realization of the SPT also suggests how institutional overlap within the complex patchwork may potentially contribute toward regional governance and stability in Asia.89

Assessing Multilateralism in the Mid-2000s What lessons are drawn from the development of multilateral institutions in the decade after the AFC? In hindsight, one can understand why policy makers and scholars exuded optimism in the early 2000s about the trajectory of East Asia’s regional architecture. At the end of the Cold War, few multilateral processes and institutions existed in Asia. By 2007, East Asian officials were attending an unwieldy number of multilateral dialogues and forums per year, to the point that some diplomats admitted to sensing multilateral fatigue.90 In the late 1990s, regional optimists caught a glimpse of Asia’s future with the formation of the APT. From their perspective, other multilateral structures loomed on the horizon that would ultimately help regional leaders realize their vision of an East Asian community. Asia’s new multilateralism looked promising by the mid-2000s. There were other reasons for optimism regarding Asia’s multilateral outlook. As East Asian regionalism approached a pinnacle of sorts by the mid-late 2000s, several US bilateral alliances were experiencing transition in a post–Cold War order marked by periodic opposition from civil societal groups.91 Some interpreted the frequency and intensity of domestic opposition to US military presence as a sign that bilateral alliances had outlived their purpose or, at the very least, were in need of a downgrading.92 Others equated alliance trouble with a decline in US power and authority. Such interpretations were juxtaposed to narratives of

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­ hina’s rising power and influence. Regional (and global) governance would reC quire greater power sharing legitimized through multilateral action. In contrast to such views, a historical institutional account, while acknowledging the growth of regional institutions, would not suggest a regional architecture defined by multilateralism. Processes of change and continuity have instead resulted in a layered architecture in which new regional institutions overlap with existing frameworks, including the network of US bilateral alliances. Thus, even though bilateral alliances such as the US-Philippine relationship reached a new low with the withdrawal of US forces in 1992, as discussed in the previous chapter, the alliance was on the mend with the signing of the Visiting Forces Agreement in the late 1990s. Bilateral ties further strengthened after 9/11 as both nations shifted their attention to counterterrorism. Tokyo and Washington reaffirmed their alliance in the mid-1990s, despite having confronted a major wave of anti-base protests not seen since the 1970s. In the next section, I turn to two additional alliances, the US–South Korea and US-Thai alliance, to discuss how bilateralism remained resilient in the wake of rising East Asian regionalism and ongoing changes to the regional architecture.

Bilateralism US-ROK Alliance The Asian financial crisis hit South Korea hard in 1997, and Koreans still remember the painful structural reforms advocated by Washington and the IMF. In fact, South Koreans commonly refer to the AFC as the “IMF crisis.” As argued earlier, the crisis nudged Asian governments to strengthen regional cooperation. President Kim Dae-Jung, who was elected in the wake of the crisis, arose as one of the major advocates of East Asian regionalism. The economic hardship experienced by ordinary South Koreans also galvanized nationalist sentiment in South Korea. As forces behind East Asian regionalism expanded, tensions in the US-ROK alliance began to surface, in part due to rising nationalism in an era of greater political freedom. In a period of democratic consolidation, certain segments of South Korean civil society, as well as the South Korean government, pressed for greater equality in the US-ROK alliance.93 Revisions to the US-ROK Status of Forces Agreement, including greater South Korean jurisdiction over serious crimes committed by US soldiers, was one such outcome. Although bilateral relations remained on track, Seoul and Washington were heading in different policy directions on substantive issues such as North Korea at the onset of the George W. Bush administration in 2000.

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Alliance Crisis  Many South Korean observers forecasted a growing alliance crisis looming by 2002. Although a series of events led to a deterioration in US–South Korean relations, the crisis itself was triggered by the death of two schoolgirls run over by a US armored vehicle and the subsequent acquittal of the two soldiers responsible for the accident. South Koreans responded to the acquittal in November 2002 by holding mass candlelight vigils across the country. In some areas, more violent demonstrations took place, particularly outside US bases. In part fueled by the wave of anti-American sentiment across the population, in December 2002, political maverick Roh Moo-hyun pulled an upset presidential victory over the conservative candidate Lee Hoi-chang. As a candidate, Roh’s refusal to “kowtow” to the United States and pledge to put alliance relations on a more equal footing enabled him to tap into brewing anti-American sentiment experienced by younger Koreans. Roh’s victory prompted fears in Washington that the US-ROK alliance was headed for trouble. Conservative political leaders in the US were already reacting sharply to anti-American images including the burning of American flags. Some US lawmakers were particularly incensed by protestors attempting to topple a large statue of General Douglas MacArthur in Incheon. Both South Korean and US media outlets sensationalized the growing rift in bilateral relations. For instance, US newspapers reported Korean students throwing firebombs at US bases, pop star Psy (of “Gangnam Style” fame) smashing a model of an American tank on live television, and universities withdrawing speaking engagements with the US ambassador.94 Following Roh’s election victory, a front-page New York Times article stated, “The outcome, after a campaign marked by huge anti-American demonstrations, sets South Korea and the United States on the most divergent diplomatic paths in half a century of close alliance.”95 Survey data and opinion polls parlayed this shift with younger Koreans holding overwhelmingly negative attitudes toward the US and favoring a reduced US military presence.96 Korean experts also conveyed a sense of crisis in the US-ROK alliance with rising anti-American sentiment among the masses and a potential generational shift in leadership among elites.97 Seung-hwan Kim stated, “Anti-Americanism is growing at a startling rate in South Korea, potentially escalating into a serious problem that could jeopardize the future of the US-Korean alliance.”98 Meredith Woo-Cumings summarized US-ROK alliance dynamics as “the passing of the Cold War alliance and changing public opinion in the Republic of Korea.”99 Kurt Campbell, who would later become assistant secretary of state for East Asian affairs wrote: “The alliance between the United States and South Korea is in bad shape, and it is unclear how it might be repaired. Indeed, the relationship may

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already have taken on less significance and become relegated to the ash heap of old alliance partnerships.”100 Anti-US protests among leftist radicals and policy disagreements at the elite level had existed in the past. But the crisis in 2002 was qualitatively different in size and scope, with many mainstream Koreans joining the fray, and with some Korean elites in the wake and immediate aftermath of the crisis wondering whether and how damages might be repaired. In short, the USROK alliance was experiencing a severe crisis. The policy area in which the US and South Korea experienced the sharpest disagreement was on North Korea. From Washington’s perch, North Korea was primarily an issue of nuclear proliferation. However, policy makers in Seoul viewed North Korean issues not only as a matter of security but also through the wider lens of reunification.101 Whereas South Korea remained committed to a soft engagement strategy with North Korea, the United States had taken an increasingly hardline position following President Bush’s “axis of evil” remark in his 2002 State of the Union address. Following an initial strategic review, the Roh administration called for a “broad agenda” that would encompass missile, nuclear, and conventional force issues, as well as humanitarian concerns. The administration did not establish any preconditions for dialogue. However, the US was unwilling to ease sanctions or embark on new initiatives without North Korea making clear gestures that it would adhere to nonproliferation and verification protocols.102 Additionally, Washington’s focus on the so-called war on terror led Bush administration officials to draw links between North Korea and the potential sale of nuclear and missile technology to terrorists. To this end, the US promoted measures such as the Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) to halt the trafficking of weapons of mass destruction and related materials. However, the US was unsuccessful in persuading South Korea to join the PSI during the Roh government.103 South Korea feared that the US-led PSI ran contrary to its engagement approach to the North and that such a move would only anger, if not provoke, North Korea to follow the nuclear path. A mismatch existed between US and South Korean threat perceptions of North Korea. Policy gaps and disagreement between Washington and Seoul added to strong political tensions in the bilateral relationship. As Jonathan Pollack argued, “The renewed confrontation between the United States and North Korea also exacerbated the most serious tensions in the fifty-year history of the US-ROK alliance, quite possibly laying the groundwork for a major regional crisis unparalleled since the Korean War.”104 South Koreans believed that Washington’s hard-line approach undercut Roh’s engagement policy toward North Korea,

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thereby overturning any positive gains and goodwill generated by previous actions. Washington, in contrast, saw South Korea’s engagement efforts as counterproductive to its more coercive strategy of pressuring North Korea into nuclear compliance. Alliance Resilience  The alliance crisis notwithstanding, predictions about further deterioration in US–South Korea relations, much less the end of the alliance, never materialized. Many political analysts and media outlets had underestimated the resilience of the alliance. Despite shifting attitudes toward the US among the mass public, an alliance consensus favoring close security ties to the US continued to persist among key foreign policy and security elites. The consensus in turn was reinforced by institutional and ideological structures. Although progressive leaders including President Roh called for a new, mature alliance partnership and a more self-reliant defense policy, Seoul and Washington were able to steer the alliance on firmer ground with South Korea ultimately accepting many of Washington’s preferred policies. Fears regarding the growing generational divide on attitudes toward the US and its impact on US-ROK policy never panned out. As discussed in Chapter 2, a dominant security narrative in South Korea emerged during the Cold War. In the mid-2000s, the majority of elites, including a large contingent within the main progressive party, continued to support bilateral alliance relations and US military presence. This was particularly true in the bureaucracies—notably the foreign and defense ministries—which existed as important stakeholders of the alliance consensus.105 More substantively, bilateral relations were still firmly rooted in institutions that integrated the US-ROK alliance with South Korea’s domestic security structures. This included the US-South Korea Combined Forces Command giving the US effective operational control over South Korean military forces during wartime. A combined operational planning staff ensured close coordination between the US and South Korean militaries, making US forces an integral part of South Korea’s overall national defense strategy. Additionally, the national security laws, enforced since 1947, created a political environment making it difficult for South Korean politicians and policy makers to dramatically shift away from the existing consensus. South Korea’s democratization, the end of the Cold War, and North Korea’s rapid economic decline had created some space for alternative security discourses to percolate into the public domain. Nevertheless, institutional and ideological structures prevented the dominant consensus favoring bilateral security relations from dissolving. Elites desiring to pursue an alternative security path without

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making the US–South Korea alliance an integral part of the security agenda faced significant political hurdles. Despite hitting a low point in bilateral relations, neither Washington nor Seoul was calling for an end to their alliance. In line with expectations of how an alliance consensus might buffer such a crisis, the two sides began coordinating a series of bilateral talks focused on transforming the US-ROK alliance into a more mature partnership. Nine rounds of dialogue through the Future of the Alliance Talks (FOTA) from 2002 –2004 and the Security Policy Initiative meetings from 2004 –2008 helped manage institutional and structural changes to the alliance. The Roh administration provided several concessions to Washington in an effort to demonstrate its commitment to the alliance despite fundamental disagreements on North Korean policy and President Roh’s initial remarks to achieve a more independent foreign policy. This included a major realignment of United States Forces Korea (USFK), permission to grant deployment of USFK in operations outside of the peninsula, and the deployment of South Korean troops to Iraq. On its end, the Bush administration finalized a deadline with the South Korean government to transfer wartime operational control (OPCON) to the South Korean military in April 17, 2012.106 The return of OPCON to South Korea was an issue President Roh had pressed as an important step in achieving a more equal alliance partnership. During the second half of the Bush administration, the US also softened its stance toward the North after initial progress on the Six-Party Talks, leading to greater cooperation and coordination with Seoul on North Korean policy. Finally, on the issue of strategic flexibility—a policy enabling USFK to participate in operations outside of the Korean Peninsula—the US added a clause to alleviate South Korea’s concerns of entrapment in a potential regional conflict.107 In sum, an alliance rooted in shared values and domestic security institutions and not just common threats proved flexible enough to withstand alliance troubles (see proposition 3 in Chapter 1). Seoul and Washington managed to move past key differences and work together to transform the US-ROK alliance into a more mature partnership. This does not suggest that all disagreements were ironed out in the immediate aftermath of the crisis. Seoul and Washington still carried different policy perspectives on North Korea even in the midst of the Six-Party Talks. However, political elites on both sides of the Pacific worked to move past the crisis. In South Korea, a consensus supporting US bilateral alliances curbed the scope and pace of reforms progressive political leaders wished to pursue regarding US-ROK relations. By 2009, both sides had reaffirmed their strengthened partnership in the Joint Vision Statement, highlighting shared values

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and mutual respect between open societies committed to democratic and freemarket principles.108 Placing the development of Asia’s regional architecture in a historical institutional context sheds light on the centrality of bilateral alliances and mechanisms of continuity. Intact for more than sixty years, the US-ROK alliance is still legitimated by domestic elites on both sides of the Pacific. Taken together with other bilateral alliances, it is regarded by policy makers in Washington and Seoul as an important piece of the hub-and-spokes framework that ensures regional order. This is not to argue that US allies shunned new multilateral initiatives in favor of bilateral alliances. As mentioned earlier, South Korea remained an active proponent of regionalism after the Asian financial crisis. Yet neither Asian allies nor Washington were looking to dissolve the hub-and-spokes system any time soon. The flurry of multilateral initiatives during this period did not suggest the decline of bilateral alliances. Rather, multilateral processes were built on top of or in conjunction with the hub-and-spokes framework.

US-Thai Alliance The US-Thai relationship has drawn less attention from policy makers and scholars than other US treaty alliances in Asia. As argued in Chapter 2, beyond the Thai military, a robust alliance consensus between and within Washington and Bangkok never coalesced as it did in Seoul, Tokyo, and Canberra. At the end of the Vietnam War, US-Thai relations shifted from a major US military presence in Thailand to a role proximate to “indirect security partners.”109 At the same time, Bangkok diversified its own foreign relations with neighboring countries, most notably China. Although relatively high levels of military-to-military cooperation with Washington persisted into the post–Cold War period, US-Thai relations faced a “long, awkward transitional moment” in the 1990s.110 Much less has been made about US-Thai relations relative to US–South Korea relations between 1997 to 2007. However, the pairing of the two alliances allows for some comparison between cases that vary in the degree of alliance consensus, and thus their ability to remain flexible in the wake of crisis. Whereas US and South Korean policy makers managed to transform their alliance following shifts in the strategic environment, US-Thai relations, operating under a thin consensus among Thai elites, remained relatively stagnant. Although a weak alliance consensus may decrease resistance to change in the status quo (as reflected by Thailand’s “omni-directional” foreign policy since the 1990s),111 the US-Thai alliance suggests that institutional choices made earlier in time still affect the foreign policy options available to policy makers. In particular, earlier institutional

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choices linking Thai national security to its defense relationship with Washington provided US and Thai policy makers with an existing framework for addressing post-9/11 security threats. The default mode was keeping the alliance intact. Even as Thailand actively pursued a multilateral regional agenda following the Asian financial crisis, rather than gradually replace bilateral alliances, Thai policy makers opted to build new institutions on top of existing ones. A key difference in alliance politics between South Korea and Thailand, however, was the perpetual instability of Thai domestic politics. The threat of political coups made it difficult for Washington and Bangkok to cultivate, much less sustain, a strong alliance consensus following Thailand’s transition to civilian rule. While the alliance persists, a relatively weak consensus in Bangkok has made alliance management more difficult in periods of crisis. Alliance Stagnation  Defense cooperation has long been the pillar of the US-Thai relationship.112 Decades of rule by Thai’s military and bureaucratic elite during the Cold War helped forge deep military-to-military connections.113 Since the end of the Cold War, however, US-Thai experts have noted a decline in the “depth” of US-Thai relations.114 Several reasons account for what most experts observe as a strategically valuable but stagnant relationship.115 A number of issues between Bangkok and Washington surfaced immediately after the end of the Cold War. Thailand had been steadily moving toward an omnidirectional foreign policy by forging relations with new actors in the region. The shift began in the 1970s with the end of the Vietnam War.116 Civilian rule in the 1990s pushed Thai foreign policy priorities even further away from Washington. For instance, Bangkok joined the Non-Aligned Movement in 1993. If the move was more symbolic than substantive, Thailand took more significant steps in carving out its own foreign policy path by securing $3 billion of military assistance from China in the mid-1990s. Meanwhile, dwindling US foreign military assistance to Thailand eroded Thai confidence in the US alliance.117 And in the aftermath of the Asian financial crisis, Washington’s perceived negligence and the harsh austerity measures set by the IMF also left the Thai people feeling bitter toward the US. Despite ongoing military cooperation, Thailand became less willing to depend on an exclusive security and defense relationship with the United States. The US had become “but one variable in Thailand’s calculations of its interests.”118 The US also experienced frustration with Thailand on a number of issues that created further diplomatic challenges to bilateral relations. In 1992, the US accused Thailand of providing clandestine support to the Khmer Rouge, thereby obstructing regional peacekeeping initiatives in Cambodia. Additionally, Congress exposed

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several issues confronting Thailand, including drug trafficking and human rights abuses.119 The gap between Washington and Bangkok only widened when the Thai government reached out to Myanmar, ignoring US pressure to isolate Yangon for its poor human rights record.120 As did US alliances with Japan, the Philippines, and South Korea, the USThai relationship experienced a period of transition and “growing pains” in the decade after the Cold War. Bilateral security cooperation persisted. But the alliance needed recalibrating, especially with civilian control becoming the rule rather than the exception from the 1990s. Lewis Stern, director for Southeast Asia at the Pentagon from 2006 to 2008, observed that the alliance had “clearly begun to evolve away from the enthusiastic and vigorous pro-American views” of earlier eras and transitioned into “a context of a changing region where ever more sophisticated multilateral interactions fulfilled immediate defense and security needs.”121 In the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Thailand’s support for post-9/11 security and counterterror initiatives initially lacked clarity. In the weeks after 9/11, Prime Minister Thaksin had declared both “strict neutrality” and Thailand’s “full-fledged support” for the United States.122 Although Thailand provided noncombat troops and logistical support for US operations in Afghanistan and Iraq, Bangkok’s early dithering had earned it the status of a “reluctant ally.”123 9/11 and US-Thai Relations  The jolt of 9/11 ultimately did bring US-Thai relations into sharper focus as recognized by then assistant secretary of state James Kelly.124 Despite resistance from Thailand’s significant Muslim population, Bangkok supported US-led military operations in Afghanistan through a variety of measures. This included Thailand permitting overflight rights through its airspace, aircraft refueling at U-Tapao Royal Thai Navy Airfield, and access for US naval vessels to Thai ports.125 During an official visit to Washington in December 2001, Prime Minister Thaksin reiterated his nation’s support for the US war on terrorism. Putting words into action, the Thai government approved several international conventions pertaining to counterterrorism agreements Thailand had failed to ratify earlier. Thailand also devoted resources to reconstruction efforts in Afghanistan by sending a military engineering battalion and medical teams.126 Later, Bangkok permitted the US to use the U-Tapao base to support operations in Iraq and allegedly interrogate terrorist suspects.127 The Thai government tried to maintain a low profile for its support of the US war on terror, in part to avoid backlash from Thai Muslims.128 As the conflict approached closer to the home front with terrorist plots uncovered in Thailand in May 2003, support for the alliance became more public. Prime Minister

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Thaksin met with President George W. Bush on June 10, 2003, in a signal of greater commitment on the part of both leaders. Counterterror legislation that had stalled in the Thai Parliament was quickly processed into law via executive decrees on August 11, 2003.129 A month later, Thailand dispatched 443 troops to Iraq, amid strong domestic protest, to support reconstruction efforts. And at the APEC summit hosted by Bangkok in October 2003, the Bush administration upgraded Thailand as a major non-NATO ally. In November 2004, the two sides began negotiating the use of US Navy vessels to monitor maritime traffic in the Gulf of Thailand.130 In sum, by the mid-2000s, the state of US-Thai relations had improved with Thailand working in “close collaboration” with Washington in the war on terror and in Iraq.131 Although US congressional leaders criticized Thaksin’s continued engagement toward Myanmar into the early 2000s, the Bush administration refrained from ostracizing Thailand. What we find in US-Thai relations is an alliance connected largely by shared threats and maintained by institutional inertia. The Thai government’s aversion to communism during the Cold War fostered a client-patron relationship between Thai military leaders and US policy makers. By the late 1990s, however, the civilian leadership in Thailand sought to create a more balanced foreign policy agenda. Seeking economic opportunities and new diplomatic relationships, Bangkok reached out to regional actors, most notably China, but also Japan and India. US attempts to restore US-Thai relations during this period “took place in the context of diminished vigor in bilateral defense relations, Thai distress over Washington’s inattentiveness, and the growing Thai sense that its own strategic interests would be better served by foreign and defense relations with a range of countries beyond the United States.”132 The events of 9/11 helped Bangkok and Washington refocus their alliance, and the two sides have actively worked to renew their relationship. But in the absence of an alliance consensus or strong domestic support among Thai elites, alliance renewal was predicated more on the threat of terrorism than on a fundamental reformulation of the alliance. This is in contrast to alliance transformations in Japan in the late 1990s or in South Korea in the mid-2000s that were aided by strong domestic elite support and predicated on shared ideology and values. These asymmetric alliances were subsequently renegotiated under more equal terms, evoking a strong sense of shared vision.133 A key reason the US-Thai alliance has not experienced the robust flexibility witnessed in other US treaty alliances relates to the weakness of an alliance consensus among Thai domestic elites. A strong alliance consensus has been particularly difficult to build in the post–Cold War era of civilian rule. This is due to the

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ongoing domestic instability in Thailand, and the fact that an alliance consensus is rooted in domestic politics and not just external threats. Consequently, it has been more difficult for Thai and US policy makers to cultivate and nurture alliance ties beyond addressing common security concerns. Nevertheless, the US-Thai alliance has sputtered forward. The 2006 coup had the potential to setback US-Thai relations again, but in the late 2000s, Washington and Bangkok used their alliance as a base for expanding regional cooperation with ASEAN. The alliance also broadened to formally address nontraditional security issues ranging from terrorism to human trafficking to humanitarian relief.134 The US-led hub-and-spokes system did not dissipate in this period of expanding multilateralism, even when countries such as Thailand explicitly sought alternative bilateral and multilateral relationships. Rather, policy makers layered new multilateral arrangements on top of and in conjunction with existing institutional structures.

Conclusion A rationalist-functionalist framework suggests that in the decade following the AFC, the preferences of leaders in ASEAN and the three major Northeast Asian states aligned to promote East Asian regionalism.135 Underpinned by the growth of informal network ties in the 1990s and driven by the politics of resentment triggered by the AFC and its aftermath in the late 1990s, Asian leaders moved away from the more inclusive brand of Asia-Pacific regionalism manifest in APEC and ARF toward a more exclusive version of Asian regionalism. Historical disputes and security tensions notwithstanding, Asia appeared poised to enter a new era of multilateralism. Constructivist scholars pressed this teleology even further by accepting at face value the discourse and rhetoric of East Asian (or more specifically ASEAN) community building as a clear sign of institutional progress.136 A historical institutional framework, in contrast, disputes such teleological claims. Actors’ preferences were anchored to preexisting institutions. East Asian governments tied to the hub-and-spokes system did seek out new regional institutions, but their actions remained bounded by structural and domestic political constraints. In a region still marked by mistrust and insecurity, policy makers clung to the security blanket of bilateralism even as they created new ad hoc multilateral processes such as the SPT or EAS. And for actors whose approach to regionalism was framed more by ASEAN, the APT and EAS ensured that ASEAN would remain at the center of regional institution building. Rather than replace ASEAN, APEC, or the ARF, the APT and EAS were simply integrated into

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the growing institutional landscape. Meanwhile, the informal nature of Asian ­institutions made it relatively easy for all actors, including the United States, to reconcile bilateralism with multilateralism. By the late 2000s, the regional architecture had begun adopting more of the features of a growing complex patchwork, a topic I explore in the next chapter.

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Complex Patchwork: 2008 –2017

Institution building proceeded rapidly in Asia, with no signs of slowing down in the new millennium. In addition to the various multilateral initiatives discussed in the preceding chapters, the region’s architects were busy strengthening bilateral networks, crafting “mini-laterals” and other ad hoc institutional arrangements, and negotiating regional trade agreements. Such arrangements helped actors coordinate policy, not to mention hedge, circumvent, or position themselves against other regional actors. The regional architecture, defined largely by bilateralism at the end of the Cold War, had transitioned into a complex network of bilateral, trilateral, mini-lateral, and multilateral institutions by the mid-late 2000s. Despite various formal and informal networks crisscrossing Asia, and ongoing efforts to promote regional community building, the strategic climate began to shift in late 2009.1 China’s growing confidence in global and regional affairs was a key factor behind rising tensions, particularly regarding ongoing maritime disputes. During the 2008 Beijing Olympics, China dazzled the world with a spectacular opening ceremony. The gravitas was matched on the field with Chinese athletes winning more gold medals than any other nation. As several Chinese and Western media outlets reported, the Olympics marked a symbolic end to China’s “one hundred years of humiliation.”2 In late 2008, the financial crisis triggered by the US subprime mortgage market further boosted Beijing’s confidence and status in the world economy. ­China’s economy was also hit hard, but it weathered the global economic downturn better than others had anticipated through a large stimulus package injected by

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­ eijing that helped keep domestic consumption rates afloat.3 Subsequently, WestB ern nations granted Beijing greater authority in international financial institutions such as the IMF. At the same time, a few notable Chinese elites questioned the long-term viability of the American dollar as the global currency. Closer to home, Beijing adopted a more assertive stance on territorial disputes, particularly in the South China Sea. China also claimed a wider sphere of maritime influence in East Asia, stirring alarm among its regional neighbors. Such actions contributed to a “new assertiveness meme” in Washington, fueled by and reflected in the reports of American journalists, bloggers, and scholars.4 Meanwhile, the Obama administration unveiled its own “pivot” to Asia in the second half of 2011. Pundits suggested that this was partly in response to China’s aggressive foreign policy turn, but the pivot was also an opportunity for Washington to assert its own interests in the region while reassuring its Asian allies of continued US support.5 The pivot, or the “rebalance,” as it was later rephrased, was based on assessments made at the beginning of the Obama administration regarding US grand strategy and the allocation of American power.6 The strategy called for a substantial shift in military capacities from other theaters of operation (read: the Middle East) to the Asia-Pacific.7 Greater attention would be given to Southeast and South Asia, subregions that had been overshadowed by Northeast Asia in the past. Although public attention often gravitated toward the military aspect of the rebalance, the rebalance included a strong diplomatic and economic component. This included new or expanded partnerships in the Asia-Pacific, regular participation in regional multilateral forums, and greater leadership in regional trade negotiations through the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP).8 The shift in strategic climate raises important questions for regional institution building. Did institution building cool down as regional rivalries heated up? Or conversely, has the pace of institution building quickened in the wake of regional rivalries as states jockey for influence through their preferred institutions? To what extent does the strategic environment affect the long-term trajectory of the regional architecture, and what challenges do policy makers face if institution building is shaped more by strategic outcomes rather than the other way around? I begin to explore these questions in this chapter and develop my arguments further in the next chapter. The evolving regional architecture will always be influenced in part by the strategic environment of the present. But as argued throughout this book, the complex patchwork that has emerged is largely a product of historical institutional processes. The choices made by policy makers and the overlapping nature of Asian regional institutions in the post–Cold War period are very much shaped by the preexisting institutional environment, and not just the contemporary strategic context (see proposition 6 in Chapter 1).

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In the first decade after the end of the Cold War, Asia’s institutional architecture was characterized by “old” bilateral alliances and new multilateral institutions. But in the second decade, between bilateralism and multilateralism, a variety of mini-laterals, preferential trade agreements, and track II dialogues have grown to become an important part of the institutional landscape. As the strategic climate soured, policy makers turned to these additional informal outlets to advance regional economic and security goals. Thus, even though the rhetoric of East Asian community has faded in recent years, the regional architecture continues to evolve incrementally through processes of institutional layering and drift. I begin this chapter with a discussion of bilateral alliances before addressing multilateral developments in this period. The strengthening of US alliances during the Obama administration proceeded under the context of the Asia pivot. However, the persistence of bilateralism must also be attributed to historical institutional antecedents. To make this connection, I focus on US alliance relationships with Australia and the Philippines—two countries that publicly embraced the Obama administration’s strategic rebalance to Asia. I also briefly discuss new US partnerships with Southeast Asian countries outside the formal hub-andspokes system, such as Singapore and Vietnam, as well as recent developments regarding intra-Asian bilateral ties. The second section highlights the rise of trilateralism. I give particular attention to one trilateral derived from the hub-andspokes system (the Trilateral Strategic Dialogue of the United States, Australia, and Japan) and another trilateral stemming from the ASEAN Plus Three process (the Trilateral Summit and Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat of China, Japan, and South Korea). Among several trilateral relationships in Asia, these two trilaterals appear the most formalized to date. In the third section, I provide a brief overview of the growing trade regime as an added dimension to the complex patchwork. I conclude by taking stock of the complex patchwork and whether the direction of Asian institution building has aided or hindered long-term efforts to build regional order.

Bilateralism The strategic rebalance silenced critics who had argued throughout the 2000s that the US-led hub-and-spokes system remained a Cold War relic of the past.9 Several East Asian governments have welcomed the Obama administration’s rebalance to Asia. Governments, including those in the Philippines, Vietnam, and Japan, reacted to renewed maritime disputes and greater Chinese assertiveness by tightening security relations with the United States. In typical realist fashion, weaker states aligned with the United States to balance against external threats. Beyond short-term reactions, however, East Asian

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actors were making a long-term bet on a reliable security anchor in the face of widening strategic uncertainty. The choice was rather natural for long-standing alliance partners such as Japan or Australia. Why break institutional ties or longstanding relationships that had functioned for more than sixty years? Through historical institutional processes, domestic elites have come to rely on the US to address traditional and increasingly nontraditional security threats in Asia. Although alliance management is periodically required, the alliance itself is widely accepted and internalized as an important aspect of national and regional security.10 Thus, even though intra-Asian security ties and new regional partnerships have taken form in recent years, US bilateral alliances remain a core part of Asia’s institutional architecture. Realist arguments are certainly at work in explaining the robustness of bilateralism a quarter century after the end of the Cold War. This is particularly true for more recent US partners such as Vietnam that do not have long-standing security ties to the United States and are not ideologically aligned with US leaders. However, in taking stock of US-led bilateral alliances in Asia as a whole, one will find that a strong historical institutional logic underpins the robustness of the hub-and-spokes system. As the regional architecture evolves, policy makers in the US and in Asia will simultaneously redefine and reformulate bilateral relations. Often, such reformulation will proceed by connecting the future to the past. US alliance partners are thus eager to evoke past friendships when calling on a future shared commitment to regional security and order. An examination of the US-Australia and US-Philippines alliance from the late 2000s helps illustrate the relevance and robustness of the hub-and-spokes system even as states push for greater multilateralism.

US-Australia Alliance As discussed in Chapter 2, US-Australia relations have received strong support from Canberra and Washington since the end of World War II. The persistence of the alliance is partially explained by ongoing regional threats and strategic uncertainty. But such correlations reflect a rather thin relationship if alliances are based purely on material threats and fluctuate with the ebb and flow of threat perceptions. As argued throughout this book, however, historical, institutional, and ideational factors thicken bilateral relationships, giving alliances a greater degree of flexibility and resilience (see propositions 1–3 in Chapter 1). Australian strategist Paul Dibb argues that alliances “involve shared values, belief systems, and a history of cooperation.”11 In the US-Australia alliance, shared interests are underpinned by a commitment to democratic values and a long history of security cooperation between the two nations. Such sentiments were

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evoked by US secretary of defense William Perry, who stated in 1996: “The defense relationship between Australia and the United States is truly a model for the rest of the world. We have fought side-by-side in five wars to protect our values and to protect our freedom. . . . Today, we are partners in peace—promoting stability and democracy in the Asia-Pacific region.”12 Thus, even when disagreements arise and interests do not align, the ideational root of the alliance permits Washington and Canberra to disagree on policy matters without throwing the alliance off course.13 Policy makers across both sides of the Pacific have thus internalized the US-Australia alliance, allowing bilateral ties to maintain their robustness and flexibility. The End of the Cold War  As with the US-Japan alliance in the 1990s, Washington and Canberra reiterated the importance of strengthened bilateral ties in the post– Cold War world. Following the Australia–United States Ministerial Consultations (AUSMIN) in 1996, Foreign Minister Downer stated, “A key outcome for both countries from this meeting has been the strong reaffirmation of the centrality of the alliance relationship to Australia’s foreign and security policy.”14 More specifically, the Australian foreign minister described how the alliance would play a crucial role in Asia’s future regional architecture: A key theme of the meeting has been the importance we both place on continuing United States engagement in the Asia-Pacific region. The United States underwrites security in the Asia-Pacific, and the United States has been a driving force of economic growth and prosperity in the region. I stressed the value of the AustraliaUnited States alliance relationship in my recent meetings with key regional partners, including Indonesia and China. . . . I impressed upon them that a stronger AustraliaUS relationship not only brought great benefits to both our countries but also to the region as a whole. This alliance is an integral element of the mutually reinforcing web of security arrangements in the region.15

The Sydney Statement, issued at the conclusion of the 1998 AUSMIN, unequivo­ cally linked the alliance to Australian national defense and regional security. Both sides placed “enduring value on the alliance because of its significance in maintaining and consolidating Australia’s capability for self-reliant defense, and because it constitutes a crucial element in the United States’ permanent presence in the Asia Pacific region.”16 The events of 9/11 demonstrated the extent of Australian support for bilateral alliances and helped forge a close personal relationship between President George W. Bush and Prime Minister John Howard. The Australian prime minister had arrived in Washington the week of 9/11 to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the ANZUS Treaty. In fact, Prime Minister Howard was scheduled to visit the Pentagon on the fateful day of September 11.17 The prime minister later remarked

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that his proximity to the events of 9/11 helped him better understand the mindset and response of Americans, including that of the US president and senior officials.18 Reaching out in solidarity with the United States, Howard, with bipartisan consensus from Australia’s Parliament, invoked the ANZUS Treaty for the first time in its fifty-year history in support of the US19 Australia would subsequently send troops to Afghanistan, and on a more limited scale to Iraq. If a consensus is marked by the internalization of an alliance by political elites, a change in government should not disrupt bilateral relations. The loss of Howard’s Liberal-National coalition to Kevin Rudd of the Labor Party in 2007 provided a test for US-Australia relations. Mindful of Australia’s desire to promote economic ties with China, and the new government’s interest in touting its AsiaPacific community initiative, some in Washington worried that Prime Minister Rudd would tilt Australia further toward China.20 The Challenge of China  The Rudd government did toe a delicate line between relations with Beijing and Washington. Despite perceptions of occasional pandering to China, Rudd was unequivocal in his support for the US-Australia alliance. As Graeme Dobell argued, “Australia has its first left wing Labor Prime Minister in a lifetime, but one thing that will not change is Labor’s adherence to the US alliance.”21 If US policy makers felt Canberra was toeing the China line too closely, there were also instances of Prime Minister Rudd “confront[ing] honestly and openly the challenge that China present[ed] for Australia and the region.”22 Growth in Australia-China economic relations did not necessarily translate into economic influence either. Most notably, China rejected Rudd’s Asia-Pacific community initiative.23 Rudd’s successor in the Labor Party, Julia Gillard, also maintained Australia’s high commitment to the alliance. On Australia’s position between China and the US, Paul Kelly of the Australian was unequivocal. As Kelly stated: “Australia supports a growing US presence in Asia, enhanced Australian-American military ties, and pressure on China to abide by international rules. The message sent by Labor . . . means the Australian-American alliance is being adapted to meet China’s rise and the evolving power balance in Asia. Gillard Labor, acting on the foundations laid by Rudd Labor, has committed to a deeper strategic partnership with the US.”24 US-Australia Relations and the Strategic Pivot  In a speech addressed to US Congress in March 2011, Prime Minister Gillard spoke of the alliance, emphasizing shared values, freedom, democracy, and common history. For instance, Gillard stated, “Shared values are the basis of our security alliance and shared values are the basis of our economic partnership as well.”25 Harkening back to the early days of the

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alliance, Gillard’s comments confirm a consensus deeply engrained among Australian elites: “[Australia] is an ally for the sixty years past and . . . an ally for all the years to come. Geography and history alone could never explain the strength of the commitment between us. Rather, our values are shared and our people are friends. This is the heart of our alliance. This is why in our darkest days we have been glad to see each other’s face and hear each other’s voice.”26 The sentiment was returned by President Obama later that year when he addressed Australia’s Parliament on November 17, 2011. As had his Australian counterpart, Obama evoked shared historical experiences and values between “two of the world’s oldest democracies and two of the world’s oldest friends.”27 Obama also relayed to Australians their shared identity as a nation of immigrant settlers in a land of opportunity. Thus, the alliance remained “rooted in our values, renewed every generation.”28 President Obama used his address in Australia to flesh out details regarding the pivot to Asia. Just before Obama’s Asia tour, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton published her “America’s Pacific Century” article in Foreign Policy, outlining the Obama administration’s strategic thinking on Asia.29 Identifying the US as a Pacific nation, both Clinton and Obama indicated that the US would play a broader long-term role in the region, making the US “presence and mission in the Asia-Pacific a top priority.”30 Beyond the military component, the president also described US commitment to its treaty alliance partners in Asia, and his administration’s diplomatic outreach toward China, India, and Southeast Asian countries through multilateral and bilateral channels. Conveying US “enduring interests” in the region, President Obama summed it up best by declaring, “The United States is a Pacific power, and we are here to stay.”31 Aside from the parliamentary address, the most significant aspect of the president’s trip was the announcement of enhanced US-Australia defense cooperation. Specifically the US agreed to deploy up to 2,500 marines to the northwestern coastal city of Darwin on a rotating basis. A small contingent of 250 soldiers had already begun rotating in and out of Darwin in 2010. A larger contingent, however, would enable the two sides to expand military exercises and training with their Australian counterparts. Host-nation support for US forces was surprisingly high. A 2012 Lowy Institute poll indicated that 74 percent of Australians approved of US military presence in Darwin.32 Strong public support helped legitimate the tightening of bilateral relationships in the context of the pivot. Australia experienced another leadership change in September 2013 when the Liberal Party defeated Labor, placing Australia’s leadership under Tony Abbot. However, neither US nor Australian experts expected any significant change in the direction of bilateral relations.33 Following a visit to the White House in June

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2014, the leaders of the two countries announced an “additional” new force posture agreement to further enhance bilateral military cooperation. Although no specifics were given at the time, Australian media sources suggested that the new agreement could potentially boost the number of troops rotating through Darwin and increase port access for US ships. It was during the 2014 AUSMIN consultations when Canberra and Washington officially signed the Force Posture Agreement, described as “a robust policy and legal framework and financial principles for implementation of the force posture initiatives announced in 2011.”34 If any doubts lingered regarding Australia’s support for the US strategic rebalance to Asia, the joint communiqué quashed them. As announced by both countries, the joint communiqué “demonstrate[d] the United States’ strong commitment to the Asia Pacific and Indian Ocean regions and Australia’s firm support for the US rebalance . . . reaffirm[ing] mutual intent to deepen [the] relationship and regional security.”35 The joint communiqué linked the US-Australia relationship to broader multilateral and economic issues. But particularly noteworthy was the enhanced level of bilateral security cooperation outlined by the two nations. With rotational deployment of the US marines well under way, the two sides addressed measures for increased air and naval cooperation. In particular, both sides sought ways to take advantage of the high level of interoperability between US and Australian forces. Australia’s commitment to purchase specific hardware from the US, including the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter, and the continuation of bilateral training exercises such as Talisman Sabre, would help foster joint defense readiness and interoperability. The establishment of a bilateral working group on ballistic missile defense cooperation and greater support for space cooperation also signaled a tightening of the US-Australia alliance.36 The strengthening of bilateral alliances during periods of strategic uncertainty or rising threats is unsurprising. What is noteworthy, however, is the consistent support for the US-Australia alliance across the political spectrum both during and after the Cold War. Perhaps post–Cold War Asia has been marked by perpetual threats, thus explaining the ongoing preference for the US-Australia alliance. Yet such arguments defy other trends pointing to decreased threats and growing regionalism. I thus offer a different explanation. It is the internalization of the alliance among elites in Washington and Australia, strengthened in part by common liberal values and a shared history, which maintains the robustness of bilateral ties (see proposition 3 in Chapter 1). This is not to argue that that no dispute or contention exists within the alliance. However, the US-Australia alliance will continue to play an important role in Asia’s unfolding regional architecture in the upcoming decades.

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US-Philippines Alliance Chapter 3 explored the drama unfolding in the US-Philippines alliance at the end of the Cold War and the “moribund” state of the alliance after the Senate vote to remove US bases.37 Yet by the end of the 1990s, Philippine political leaders anticipated the return of US “visiting” forces. This section explores how Manila and Washington managed and ultimately reformulated the US-Philippine alliance in the years following the eviction of the US military. It begins by recapitulating earlier events that helped improve US-Philippine relations from the mid- to late 1990s. The remaining discussion is then guided by two questions. First, which steps were taken leading to the new security pact signed between Manila and Washington in 2014? Second, and more broadly, how did US-Philippine relations fit with Washington’s rebalance strategy to Asia at the beginning of the decade? Although US-Philippine relations hinged more on historical legacy and strategic principles, and less on normative, democratic values as frequently espoused in US-Australia relations, a high degree of elite consensus supporting the alliance had reemerged in Manila and Washington in the era of the US strategic rebalance. As discussed previously, several events helped revive the alliance toward the end of the decade: the difficulty in financing the modernization of the Philippine military, increased threats in the South China Sea, and an uptick in Muslim separatist insurgencies. New alliance commitments were institutionalized through the Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA), ratified by the Philippine Senate on May 27, 1999, and the Mutual Logistics Support Agreement (MLSA), signed in November 2002. If US-Philippine relations had not warmed enough by the end of the 1990s, 9/11 and the global war on terror helped reconstitute an alliance consensus favoring close security ties in the twenty-first century. In the era of the strategic rebalance, the US-Philippines alliance shifted its focus from counterterrorism and counterinsurgency to territorial defense and conventional security. Manila provided support for the rebalance in the form of new security agreements and expanded military base access. The reformulation of the US-Philippines alliance suggests that bilateralism not only persists but also continues to function as an anchor underneath Asia’s regional architecture.

Philippines and the Strategic Rebalance Washington’s strategic rebalance had an early and positive impact on the US-Philippines alliance, perhaps even more so than the US-Australia alliance.38 In November 2011, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton flew to Manila to commemorate the sixtieth anniversary of the United States–Philippines Mutual Defense Treaty.

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Boarding the USS Fitzgerald in Manila Bay, Secretary of State Clinton and Albert del Rosario, Philippines secretary for foreign affairs, signed the Manila Declaration. Together they reaffirmed the foundational role of the Mutual Defense Treaty in their bilateral relationship and put forward “a shared vision for strategic, political, economic, and people-to-people cooperation.”39 The declaration resonated closely with President Obama’s remarks on the US-Australia alliance as the two sides evoked their shared past and common values: Sixty years on, the Philippines-United States alliance has never been stronger and will continue to expand in the 21st century as our two countries chart a new direction for our critical partnership, in the defense realm and beyond. With an enduring history of shared sacrifice and common purpose, the people and governments of our two countries will act together to build a better and more prosperous world for future generations.40

Two months after the signing of the Manila Declaration, the two governments laid out a more concrete and comprehensive vision for the alliance at the Bilateral Strategic Dialogue in Washington, DC. The meeting, held at the deputy level, paved the way for the inaugural US-Philippines Ministerial Dialogue—a “2+2” meeting between the heads of the defense and foreign ministries on April 30, 2012. Having conducted similar meetings with Japan, Australia, and South Korea in the past, the high-level 2+2 format signaled “a new plateau” in US-Philippine relations.41 From the Philippines’ perspective, greater support for the US alliance was a natural reaction to China’s increased assertiveness in the South China Sea. Tensions had escalated between Manila and Beijing over the Spratly Islands and Scarborough Shoal. In 2011, two Chinese patrol boats threatened to ram a Philippine survey ship commissioned by the Philippines Department of Energy to explore potential oil deposits 150 kilometers east of the Spratly Islands.42 The dilapidated Philippines vessels were no match for the Chinese navy. Manila has since turned to the US to strengthen its naval capacity while seeking out international bodies such as the UN and ASEAN to pressure China to resolve disputes in a peaceful manner consistent with international law.43 Outside the context of bilateralism, Manila also supported US membership to the EAS and strengthened ties between the US and ASEAN. Southeast Asian experts Ernest Bower and Gregory Poling argue that “the reaffirmation of the Manila Declaration was intended to send a strong signal of US support for the Philippines, and the ASEAN claimants in general, in their attempts not to be bullied by Beijing in the South China Sea.”44 Although the strategic and ministerial dialogues addressed economic cooperation and increased support for regional institutions, US-Philippine relations during the period of the strategic rebalance focused largely on defense coopera-

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tion.45 For instance, the joint statement of the ministerial dialogue listed twelve different points under security cooperation. These points included strengthening defense capabilities for the Philippines; responding to a range of both traditional and nontraditional security issues; building the Philippines’ maritime security presence; sharing intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) information; and increasing joint training exercises.46 Beyond broad statements on enhanced security cooperation, the 2+2 Ministerial Dialogue enabled both sides to flesh out details. The US agreed to nearly triple the amount of foreign military financing to the Philippines from about $12 million to almost $30 million.47 Discussions also included the US providing the Philippine military with a squadron of F-16 fighter jets and the Philippines granting the US increased access to air bases. Rumors about the return of US forces to Subic Bay and the permanent stationing of US troops echoed in Philippine civil society.48 To preempt any domestic backlash, both governments clearly stated that enhanced defense cooperation would proceed “in accordance with both countries’ domestic laws and constitutional processes.”49 The latter statement was “code” for no permanent US bases on Philippine soil. As suggested earlier, certain segments of the Philippine polity expressed reluctance toward, if not outright opposition to, enhanced US defense cooperation. However, the significant humanitarian role played by the US military in response to Typhoon Haiyan in November 2013 helped bolster domestic support for the US-Philippines alliance.50 A report filed by Congressional Research Service indicated that at its peak, the US had mobilized sixty-six US military aircraft and twelve naval vessels for relief efforts. Nearly one thousand US troops were sent directly to disaster zones. To coordinate relief efforts, the US also dispatched an aircraft carrier group, the USS George Washington, and marines from Okinawa to work with the Philippine government and military in providing humanitarian assistance. This included “clearing roads, transporting aid workers, distributing 2,495 tons of relief supplies, and evacuating over 21,000 people.”51 Making the most out of the disaster, Philippine and US political leaders cited humanitarian relief operations as further justification for increased US military presence in the country. Foreign Secretary Albert del Rosario stated, “What has been demonstrated in central Philippines as a result of this typhoon and the assistance provided . . . [is] the need for this framework agreement that we are working out with the United States.”52 US House representative Chris Smith also commented that drawn-out negotiations for increased US military presence in the Philippines were given a boost as a result of cooperation between the US military and the armed forces of the Philippines on disaster relief.53

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Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement  Following nearly two years of discussion and eight rounds of negotiations beginning in August 2013, the US and the Philippines signed the Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA) on April 28, 2014. The EDCA institutionalized a new, ten-year framework for USPhilippine defense cooperation. The agreement aimed to develop individual and collective capacities, expand joint military exercises, and increase interoperability of the two militaries. In addition, the agreement addressed “short-term capabilities gaps” with the Philippine military by “promoting long-term modernization, and helping maintain and develop additional maritime security, maritime domain awareness, and humanitarian assistance and disaster relief capabilities.”54 At the crux of the agreement, EDCA authorized the US military access to “agreed locations in the territory of the Philippines . . . on a rotational basis.”55 Of course, greater access to Philippine bases also entailed an increase in the number of US military forces, ships, aircraft, and equipment circulating in and out of the islands.56 The Philippines retained ownership of all agreed locations but granted the US operational control with the ability to alter, improve, or construct new facilities, as well as store and preposition supplies and equipment.57 Washington and especially Manila repeatedly declared that no permanent US bases would be established; the use of facilities and areas would be “at the invitation of the Philippines and with full respect for the Philippine Constitution and Philippine laws.”58 The signing of the new security pact was timed with President Obama’s visit to the Philippines, the last stop of his four-nation Asian tour in April 2014. The EDCA represented the capstone of Obama’s trip to Asia, which was intended to demonstrate Washington’s commitment to the region and assuage critics who questioned whether the Obama administration would follow through with the rebalance. Adding “much needed momentum” to the strategic rebalance, the EDCA provided significant strategic depth to the administration’s Asia policy with the potential to provide the US military access to several strategic locations such as Subic Bay, Clark Air Base, the Batanes Archipelago, and Palawan Island.59 Both governments lauded the security pact, which would open a “new chapter [for] a modern and mature defense alliance.”60 As President Obama commented, “We’ve had decades of alliance with the Philippines, but obviously in the 21st century we have to continue to update that [relationship].”61 Alliance updating continued with the election of President Rodrigo Duterte in 2016. Duterte’s unorthodox domestic and foreign policy, coupled with his flamboyant statements and crude language (including a reference to President Obama as a “son of a whore”), challenged some of the core values and principles underpinning US bilateral alliances. Duterte’s use of extrajudicial killings

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to eradicate his country’s drug problem, his courting of authoritarian regimes such as China and Russia, and his nonchalant dismissal of an international ruling on the South China Sea by the Permanent Court of Arbitration at The Hague (which the US supported in favor of the Philippines) raised doubts about the stability of the US-Philippines alliance.62 Duterte’s antics posed a test to the existing alliance consensus toward the end of the Obama administration. More on the US-Philippines relationship under the Trump administration is discussed in the next chapter. But for now, it suffices that historical institutional processes have kept the alliance intact. More level-headed diplomats and bureaucrats in Duterte’s government have frequently “qualified” their president’s controversial statements regarding the United States. Duterte himself has also backtracked from comments that initially suggested a desire to break free from Washington and veer closer to Beijing.63 Such statements indicate a degree of flexibility built into a wider alliance consensus held by the foreign policy establishment in Manila and Washington. Moreover, even with the rise of new institutions and multilateral security dialogues, the Philippines, along with other Asian allies, have continued to make the hub-and-spokes system a central component of their defense strategy.

Expanding Bilateral Relations: Southeast Asia and Intra-Asian Security Ties The hub-and-spokes system represents continuity in East Asia’s regional architecture. It is part of the “old” system. Yet as attested by several cases of alliance resilience, and consistent with the historical institutional framework offered in Chapter 1, continuity should not be equated with the absence of change to existing systems. Alliances in the Philippines, Japan, South Korea, and elsewhere all experienced varying degrees of recalibration and reformulation in the 1990s and 2000s. More recently, the hub-and-spokes system has expanded in new directions that reflect and reinforce the robustness of bilateralism. In particular, the strategic rebalance presented regional actors with opportunities to move beyond traditional bilateral partnerships, adding another layer to Asia’s complex institutional patchwork. The US was especially keen to deepen ties in Southeast Asia, evidenced by new agreements and increased interaction with ASEAN, Singapore, Vietnam, and Indonesia. Meanwhile, several US partners made a greater push to forge bilateral security ties among themselves, thus connecting the spokes to each other in addition to the hub. Rather than resist intra-alliance networks, Washington in recent years has encouraged what former secretary of defense Ashton Carter has called a “principled and inclusive security network.”64 This network includes bilateral and trilateral security cooperation among Asian countries even in the absence of the US hub.

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Traditionally focused on Northeast Asia, and largely an outsider to ASEANcentered regionalism, the US increasingly turned its attention to Southeast Asia in the late 2000s.65 A dialogue partner with ASEAN since 1977, the US became the first non-ASEAN country to appoint an ambassador to ASEAN in 2008. Ties to ASEAN deepened under the Obama administration as the White House articulated its strategic shift to Asia. Secretary of State Clinton emphasized the need to develop “strong relationships and a strong and productive presence in Southeast Asia.”66 As an early step, the US signed on to ASEAN’s Treaty of Amity and Cooperation. The move was significant as it paved the way for US entry into the EAS. The following year, the US opened a permanent mission to ASEAN in Jakarta, with Ambassador David Carden sworn in as the first resident ambassador in March 2011. Several Southeast Asian countries, including Singapore, Vietnam, and Indonesia, have strengthened their relationship with the United States in recent years. Although they remain outside the formal hub-and-spokes system, it is worth illustrating how the US has continued to rely on bilateralism to stabilize the regional architecture through processes of institutional layering. I briefly highlight Singapore and Vietnam, which are examples of an older and a relatively new partnership, respectively, that remain outside the formal hub-and-spokes system.

Singapore Despite the absence of a formal treaty, the US and Singapore have developed a strong partnership which in many respects functions as a de facto alliance. Most notably, Singapore granted the US basing access in the early 1990s after the withdrawal of US forces from the Philippines in 1992. The US has relied on Changi Naval Base and other facilities to maintain a logistical command unit and repair and resupply US warships.67 The two countries also signed a bilateral free trade agreement in 2003 that has significantly boosted US exports and foreign direct investment into the Singapore economy. In 2005, the US established a “strategic framework agreement” with Singapore. The framework formalized and strengthened the bilateral security relationship by expanding cooperation on “counterterrorism, counter-proliferation, joint military exercises and training, policy dialogues, and defense technology.”68 By the time of the strategic rebalance, relations between Singapore and the US needed only to be nurtured, not “reinvented.”69 Living up to its expectations as a “major security cooperation partner,” the US and Singapore conducted its first of several subsequent bilateral Strategic Partnership Dialogue in 2012 covering issues including defense and security, trade, environment, and education.70 The

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two militaries also increased bilateral exercises and joint training, leading to the signing of an enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (DCA) in December 2015. Building on the 2005 agreement, the new DCA spelled out new areas of cooperation in the areas of humanitarian assistance and disaster relief, cybersecurity, biosecurity, and public communications.71 Singapore’s comprehensive partnership with Washington and close economic ties to Beijing fall under a broad strategy to cultivate positive relations with both regional powers. As Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong and other Singaporean policy makers have argued, Singapore does not choose sides, as it sees its interests tied to both countries and a stable US-Sino relationship.72 One might argue that Singapore carefully hedges against different future possibilities and has thus avoided making any firm commitments by eschewing a formal alliance treaty with the US. However, the relationship remains robust. As one Asian security analyst states, “The critical difference between Singapore’s relationship with the United States and its ties with other countries is that the US-Singapore relationship has developed across a broader range of issues and with a sustained depth not seen elsewhere.”73 Although existing outside the formal hub-and-spokes system, a strong consensus among elites has helped sustain US-Singapore relations the past decade. As Matthew Stumpf notes, the training of Singapore’s next generation of leaders in the US has helped build the type of mutual understanding needed behind commitments.74 In fact, in 2014, eleven of eighteen cabinet members in Singapore had either studied or worked in the US.75 And while Singapore-US relations have been dotted with occasional diplomatic spats based on different approaches to the rule of law and human rights, Singapore has largely supported a liberal international system favoring open markets and multilateral institutions. Unsurprisingly, then, in the era of the pivot, the bilateral relationship had been lauded on numerous occasions by US officials as an “extraordinary relationship” and “outstanding partner.”76 This was symbolized by Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong’s meeting with President Obama in 2016 on the fiftieth anniversary of diplomatic relations between the two countries, and the first official White House visit of a Singapore head of state in more than thirty years.77 Vietnam  US-Vietnam relations represent a fascinating case study of former enemies moving toward mutual cooperation and perhaps future friendship. Although shared economic and strategic interests have helped facilitate cooperation since 2002, the Obama administration had “accelerated this process,” building partnerships on multiple fronts.78 As a Congressional Research Service report states, “Obama administration officials identify Vietnam as one of the new ­partners

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they are cultivating as part of their ‘rebalancing of US priorities toward the Asia-­ Pacific.” Much of this newfound cooperation followed the heels of Chinese assertiveness in the South China Sea.79 Several examples illustrate strengthened US-Vietnam ties during the Obama years. In 2010, Secretary of State Clinton attended the East Asia Summit as an observer at the invitation of the hosting Vietnamese government. In August 2010, the United States and Vietnam held their first Defense Policy Dialogue, a channel for direct military-to-military discussions among senior officials. This forum complemented the existing security dialogue on political defense issues conducted by the US State Department and Vietnamese Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Other indicators of deepening defense ties included “US-Vietnam joint naval engagements (involving noncombat training), Vietnamese shipyards repairing US noncombatant naval vessels, and cooperation in peacekeeping and search-andrescue training operations.”80 In 2011, the US Department of Defense and the Vietnamese Ministry of National Defense signed the Memorandum of Understanding on Advancing Bilateral Defense Cooperation. Improvements in bilateral relations were made visible by President Truong Tan Sang’s White House visit in July 2013. In Washington, the two countries formed the US-Vietnam Comprehensive Partnership to “provide an overarching framework for advancing the relationship” in a range of areas, including security, economics, diplomacy, education and training, war legacy issues, human rights, culture, and sport.81 This framework was followed by a commitment of $32.5 million in assistance to Vietnam from Secretary of State John Kerry in December 2013 to “advance maritime capacity building in Southeast Asia.”82 A gradual warming of relations in recent years has encouraged proponents in Hanoi and Washington to push for deeper strategic relations.83 Additionally, US policy makers have weighed in on human rights issues in Vietnam, limiting the extent of deeper political ties to Hanoi. Others have also cautioned against moving too rapidly on US-Vietnam relations. As Brian Benedictus reminds us, where the US has “spent decades carefully crafting relationships with other regional states to the point where a great deal of mutual understanding can be relied upon during a time of crisis, no such relationship exists with Vietnam.”84 Nevertheless, US-Vietnamese relations rapidly progressed from the late 2000s, capped in July 2015 with a White House visit by Vietnam’s chief Communist Party leader, General Secretary Nguyen Phu Trong. In return, in June 2016 President Obama visited Hanoi, where he announced the removal of remaining restrictions on arms sales to Vietnam. Beyond Vietnam, the US also steadily expanded the number of official visits, dialogues, and joint policy initiatives with Indonesia and Malaysia

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during strategic rebalance period, representing a transformation from a hub-andspokes alliance system to a “growing network of intra-Asian security ties.”85 In addition to an increase in economic and security ties between the US and nascent partners, the region has also witnessed a growth in bilateral intra-Asian security ties. Several of these new ties have formed between US allied or aligned countries, including Australia, India, Japan, Singapore, the Philippines, South Korea, and Vietnam.86 These ties have been manifest in substantial increases in “high-level defense visits, bilateral security agreements, joint operations and military exercises, arms sales, and military education program.”87 The US has largely welcomed the organic growth of intra-Asian alliance ties. Within the huband-spokes system, Washington has encouraged deeper connections among the spokes, particularly between Japan and South Korea, and Australia and Japan. The Philippines and Japan have also moved to strengthen security ties in recent years with the two countries signing the Memorandum on Defense Cooperation and Exchange in January 2015, and another agreement permitting the transfer of defense equipment and technology from the Japan Self-Defense Forces to the Armed Forces of the Philippines later that year. Although Asian countries seek new partnerships to diversify their security options, by establishing ties with other US alliance partners, new bilateral networks actually overlap and buttress the formal hub-and-spokes system. Such networks also relieve some pressure (or blame) off Washington. Contrary to Chinese claims that the US is orchestrating a strategy of hard balancing against Beijing through its bilateral alliances, Asian governments are themselves expanding and reinforcing bilateral networks without receiving orders from the hub.

The Resurgence of Bilateralism In the early 1990s, policy leaders in Asia questioned whether the US would remain committed to the region. As late as 1997, diplomatic and military leaders in China were calling for an end to Cold War– era alliances.88 For those who had predicted that bilateral alliances would diminish in function and importance, the pivot to Asia initiated by the Obama administration proved otherwise. Hedging against the uncertainty of China’s rise is the most common explanation behind the reinvigoration of such Cold War “relics.” But in the past sixty years, bilateral alliances have developed a life of their own. Over time, positive feedback loops and institutional adaptation have shaped a consensus in which elites in the United States and in Asia have come to embrace bilateral alliances as a key component of not only their national security but also regional stability itself. There is a pathdependent logic behind this early institutional choice. Even as Asian partners seek

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out new bilateral and multilateral arrangements, they continue to fall back on alliances in moments of crisis and periods of great uncertainty. Within the complex patchwork of regional institutions, bilateralism continues to underpin Asia’s security architecture. At the same time, bilateralism in Asia has experienced incremental change triggered in part by shifts in the regional environment and thus creating demands on actors to seek new security or economic ties. However, actors’ preferences and demands are framed by the existing institutional context. Thus, for Asian actors within the hub-and-spokes system, new bilateral (and multilateral) ties are created in addition to or in conjunction with the core hub-and-spokes system in a layered fashion. For the US, the rebalance strategy has led Washington to expand its bilateral network beyond Cold War alliance partners, extending its reach deeper into Southeast and toward South Asia. Meanwhile, links across the spokes among Asian actors continue to develop bilaterally and, as discussed in the following section, through trilateral and other multilateral configurations.

Trilateralism East Asia’s regional architecture is often pitted as a contrast between bilateralism and multilateralism. In between these two institutional modes, however, lies a series of informal trilateral relationships. The rise of trilateralism has fostered much debate in the scholarly and policy communities regarding their role and relationship to the broader strategic landscape. Do they help facilitate governance by providing states a space more amenable to achieving cooperation than in larger multilateral forums? Or do trilaterals perpetuate insecurities by creating competing blocs, thereby encouraging institutional balancing behavior? On the positive side, trilateralism can facilitate trust, promote stability, and reduce the likelihood of security conflict dilemmas. Unlike strategic triangles that emerged during the Cold War among states seeking to balance their interests among rivals, trilateralism connotes cooperative behavior “based on adherence to common values or visions of regional and international order.”89 Table 5.1 lists several trilateral mechanisms in the Asia-Pacific that have convened at the deputy level or higher for at least three successive meetings. Additionally, I include trilaterals in Asia that carry the potential for further development. Formality here is a matter of degree. The Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat has helped institutionalize China-Japan-Korea relations, despite the failure of the three countries to hold the Trilateral Summit between 2013 and 2015. The Trilateral Coordination and Oversight Group (TCOG), which facilitated greater co-

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table 5.1 Track I trilateral meetings Trilaterals

Year meeting first held

US, Japan, South Korea US, Japan, Australia China, Russia, India China, Japan, South Korea US, Japan, India Australia, India, Japan

1999* 2002 (Trilateral Strategic Dialogue)** 2005 2008 (Trilateral Summit) 2011*** 2015

*Existed as Trilateral Coordination and Oversight Group from 1999 –2003. **Upgraded to ministerial meeting in 2006. ***Trilateral ministerial meeting first took place in 2015.

operation among the US, Japan, and South Korea between 1999 and 2003, has ceased to exist. However, Seoul, Tokyo, and Washington regularly meet at the working and principals level to coordinate security policy, particularly in regard to North Korean threats. Additional trilateral groupings have been proposed in recent years or have met at the track II level. Track II US-China-Japan trilateral discussions have existed since the early 2000s.90 Secretary of State Clinton in 2010 endorsed proposals for a track I trilateral meeting among major powers in the region, including a US-China-Japan trilateral meeting and a parallel US-China-India meeting. China has remained unresponsive thus far.91 Seoul has also suggested holding a trilateral with Beijing and Washington, despite reticence on the part of the US in the absence of an improved trilateral of the US, Japan, and South Korea.92 Meanwhile, improved bilateral ties between India and Japan, and India and the United States, helped pave the way for transitioning the India-Japan-US trilateral dialogue into a full-fledged ministerial meeting in 2015.93 Several reasons explain the recent emergence of trilateralism. Mike Green’s study on trilateral relationships points to deficiencies in both regional multilateral forums and the legacy of the hub-and-spokes system. As Green notes, “the advantages of a lowest common denominator” consensus-oriented approach is “offset by an inability to produce meaningful results on controversial issues which involve great powers.”94 Different visions of regionalism have therefore opened opportunities for coordination among smaller groups of “like-minded states” even though they still operate within the framework of broader multilateral institutions.95 At the same time, trilaterals have provided states additional flexibility in seeking out alternative partnerships. To illustrate how trilateral relationships have emerged in the context of institutional layering, I discuss the US-Australia-Japan Trilateral Strategic Dialogue and the China-Japan-Korea Trilateral Summit and Secretariat. I have selected the

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TSD and TCS because they are the most developed trilaterals to date. More important, the two processes vary in their membership, purpose, and vision, allowing for a more comprehensive discussion of how trilateralism fits in the complex patchwork of Asian regional institutions.

Trilateral Strategic Dialogue Rather than examining US-Australia-Japan trilateralism as a strategic counterpoint to a rising China, I place trilateralism in the larger context of the developing regional architecture. As argued earlier, the TSD exists as an extension of the hub-and-spokes system. However, collaboration among like-minded allies is not a guarantee for trilateral cooperation. Favorable domestic and international conditions are needed for states to align. Domestically, the Bush administration had developed a close rapport with the conservative governments of prime ministers Junichiro Koizumi and John Howard, which helped facilitate the trilateral process at the deputy level.96 Along with US-Japan-Korea trilateralism, US-Australia-Japan (UAJ) relations have been described as following a “bilateralism-plus” formula.97 Michael Wesley argues that the TSD operationalizes the concept of “expansive bilateralism.”98 James Schoff, who served as a senior adviser for East Asia policy at the Pentagon, argues that the TSD rests on a process designed “to strengthen the two bilateral alliances [US-Japan and US-Australia] and help build connecting threads between them.”99 The key point is that UAJ trilateralism exists as an extension of bilateralism. The early evolution of the TSD was not necessarily driven by Washington. But the interests and values shared among the partners were significantly shaped by their inclusion in the hub-and-spokes system.100 It may be tempting to claim that the TSD, much like TCOG, was organized under pressure from Washington. Although the US had called for more effective integration of its alliance partnerships in Asia, the impetus for the TSD arises equally if not more from Tokyo and Canberra. As discussed in Chapter 3, the Japanese and Australian governments had worked closely together in the late 1980s and early 1990s to promote APEC, deflecting calls for a more exclusive brand of regionalism. In the mid-1990s, the two governments engaged in political-military and military-military talks.101 The discussions were parcel to growing interests in multilateral security dialogues in the post–Cold War period such as the ARF, but also a result of their limitations.102 Michael Wesley notes that the concept of a trilateral dialogue was first suggested at a US-Japan bilateral meeting in early 2001 by Japanese deputy minister of foreign affairs Ryozo Kato to his American counterpart in the US State

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Department, Richard Armitage.103 Australian foreign minister Alexander Downer also proposed an informal trilateral meeting shortly thereafter at the ARF in Hanoi in July 2001 with his American and Japanese cabinet-level counterparts, Colin Powell and Makiko Tanaka.104 Downer’s proposal eventually led to the announcement of the TSD, then known as the Trilateral Security Dialogue. The TSD was launched in 2002 at the deputy secretary level.105 Speaking to reporters at a press conference several weeks after the ARF meeting, Deputy Secretary of State Armitage reacted positively to trilateral developments, stating, “We are all liberal democracies, we’re all concerned with the fate of Asia and it seems to me a perfectly reasonable proposition that we ought to get together and talk.”106 Following four annual trilateral meetings held at the deputy ministerial level, in May 2005, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, after meeting with her Japanese and Australian counterparts in Washington, DC, stated that the trilateral meetings would be upgraded as an official “strategic dialogue” to the ministerial level.107 The upgrade to full ministerial status was an attempt to address political elements in trilateral relations that could “better guide and inform” security discussions.108 Some have argued that the shift to cabinet-level dialogues was initiated by the US, partly over concerns from Washington and Tokyo that Canberra had become more accommodating to Beijing in the wake of China’s rise.109 In addition to high-level policy dialogues at the ministerial level since 2006, other trilateral consultative mechanisms at various diplomatic levels have also emerged under the TSD. Issues covered in the agenda have included counterterrorism, nonproliferation, humanitarian assistance, and disaster relief. As argued earlier, favorable domestic and international conditions are needed for trilateral relationships to successfully develop. Domestically, the Bush administration had developed a close rapport with the conservative governments of Junichiro Koizumi in Japan and John Howard in Australia, which helped facilitate the trilateral process at the deputy level.110 At the strategic level, the Howard government was interested in working with Japan “to reinforce the overall network of US alliances in Asia.”111 As William Tow argues, “A major rationale for supplementing the separate US bilateral alliances with Japan and Australia was to strengthen what Australian diplomats characterized as an underdeveloped ‘weak third leg’ of Australia-Japan security relations.”112 In the post-9/11 period, Tokyo and Canberra reiterated their unequivocal support for the hub-and-spokes system as a crucial element of stability and order in the Asia-Pacific, but they also accepted that alliances were no longer “narrowly defined” or “geographically prescribed.” They therefore endorsed Washington’s “vision of alliances as flexible arrangements with multiple objectives.”113

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In the context of Asia’s evolving regional architecture, the TSD functions as a bridge between bilateral and multilateral cooperation. This is expressed best by former prime minister Kevin Rudd: Japan and Australia “share a fundamental interest in strengthening continued US engagement.”114 However, support for US engagement does not simply mean “sticking rigidly to old models.”115 To that end, the TSD offers a dynamic and flexible mechanism that enhances regional dialogue and “complements and supports good regional architecture.”116 Rather than challenge or re-create new security structures, actors have instead layered new institutions on top of existing bilateral and multilateral institutions. Indeed, from the perspective of Tokyo, greater participation in the TSD serves as a practical means of shoring up regional multilateral mechanisms that have not borne as much fruit as initially anticipated by Japanese policy makers.117 Holding the TSD ministerial meeting on the sidelines of APEC in October 2013, the three sides reiterated the relevance of institutions such as the EAS, ADMM Plus, ARF, and APEC as “key fora to strengthen regional security and economic integration.”118 At the same time, the TSD has helped stimulate Australia-Japan ties. In March 2007, Australia and Japan signed “the first formal defense relationship for Tokyo outside of the US-Japan alliance.”119 The Joint Declaration on Security Cooperation established a 2+2 meeting of foreign and defense ministers.120 In May 2010, the two sides also signed the Acquisition and Cross-Servicing Agreement (ACSA) to facilitate interoperability between defense forces.121 On the economic front, Japan and Australia signed a free-trade agreement in July 2014. The TSD is an institutional arrangement that promotes cooperation among like-minded allies and exists as an outgrowth of what J. D. B. Miller refers to as “habits of association.”122 It should be clear that the TSD does not operate as a formal alliance. As Prime Minister Rudd described: “It has no organizational structure, rules, or secretariat. . . . No fixed timetables for meetings . . . and remains responsive to the partners’ needs” with working groups established and phased out as deemed necessary.123 Policy makers continue to search for opportunities for cooperative dialogue, but without undercutting existing bilateral and multilateral institutions. Layered on top of existing institutional structures, the TSD has become one of several trilateral mechanisms contributing to Asia’s growing regime complexity.

Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat If the TSD emerged as an extension of the bilateral hub-and-spokes system, the China-Japan-Korea Trilateral Summit and Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat (TS/ TCS) branched out from the ASEAN Plus Three process. The TCS fills an

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unoccupied institutional space in Northeast Asia. Like the TSD, it represents a small facet of Asia’s growing regime complex through incremental change. The TCS overlaps, and in some respects, complements institutional processes such as the APT and EAS. But it also raises questions about the efficacy of trilateralism when underlying bilateral relationships remain frayed. Trilateral cooperation among China, Japan, and South Korea took root in 1999 under the auspices of the ASEAN Plus Three (APT) meeting. Initiated by then Japanese prime minister Keizo Obuchi, the leaders of the three countries held an informal breakfast meeting on the sidelines of the APT.124 For the first few years, trilateral meetings between the three heads of state remained informal and relatively low key. However, the 2003 trilateral meeting in Bali, Indonesia, moved trilateral cooperation a half step toward greater formality as the three leaders issued their first joint declaration. At this point, trilateral cooperation had proliferated into multiple meetings with separate meetings held by foreign, economic, finance, health, and science ministers.125 Trilateral cooperation hit a bump following Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi’s visit to Yasukuni Shrine in October 2005. The visit resulted in the cancellation of the 2005 trilateral meeting. Although the economic ministers met on the sidelines of the 2006 ATP, the leaders of the three countries did not meet again until early 2007. It was at this ATP, however, when Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda proposed hosting the annual leaders meeting outside of the APT format. The three heads of state held their first independent trilateral summit in Fukuoka, Japan in December 2008. Trilateral cooperation took another step toward institutionalization at the 2010 meeting when South Korean President Lee Myungbak proposed establishing a secretariat for trilateral cooperation. In addition to providing administrative support for various trilateral consultative mechanisms, the secretariat would explore new agendas for cooperation and actively engage in public diplomacy. The Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat (TCS) opened in Seoul in September 2011. The TCS helps coordinate more than sixty trilateral consultative mechanisms. Figure 5.1 presents data available from the TCS website that indicate trends and patterns regarding trilateral cooperation. From the perspective of a long horizon, the establishment of the TCS represents a milestone for relations in Northeast Asia. This is especially true if we consider Japan’s brutal colonization of the Korean Peninsula and parts of China in the previous century, or direct military confrontation between China and South Korea during the Korean War. Trilateral cooperation has certainly come a long way given the fraught nature of Northeast Asian relations the past century. The establishment of the TCS is therefore significant. Despite moving in fits and

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Number of meetings

70

Politics & Security

60

Economics

50 Environment 40 30

Science, Social, Culture

20

TOTAL MEETINGS

10

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011

2010

2009

2008

2007

2006

2005

2004

2003

2002

2001

2000

1999

0

figure 5.1  Number of CJK intergovernmental meetings, 1999 –2015 s o u r c e : Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat.

starts, it represents an “expression of political will” on the part of the three parties to improve relations among them.126 At the same time, however, trilateral cooperation remains politically weak. Although the cooperative spirit of the trilateral framework enables diplomats and government officials to feel relatively “safe,” dark bilateral undercurrents flow deep beneath the surface of trilateral discussions. Territorial disputes and historical antagonism have plagued bilateral relations among all three countries, derailing trilateral summits in particular years, including a nearly three-year absence between 2013 and 2015. The nature of bilateral relations may therefore limit what trilateral cooperation can actually achieve in Northeast Asia. For now, trilateral cooperation revolves around “soft” issues in which all three countries can find some common basis for mutual cooperation, such as sustainable development or nuclear safety and disaster management. Sensitive political issues such as historical or territorial disputes have thus far been off the table. The TS/ TCS exists within a broader network of multilateral and mini-lateral institutions, and as such, its development is shaped extensively by historical institutional factors. Although some policy makers in Washington were initially suspicious of CJK trilateral intentions, Japanese and South Korean diplomats have argued that CJK cooperation in no way diminishes the importance of bilateral alliances. In fact, Seoul and Tokyo have maintained, if not strengthened, US bilateral alliances in recent years. US policy makers have also expended great effort to maintain trilateral relations among Tokyo, Seoul, and Washington.127 As the TCS secretary general argued, the rationale for Northeast Asian trilateralism is

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functional and geographic, whereas the rationale for US-centered trilateralism is strategic.128 For US policy makers wary about the intentions of Seoul and Tokyo, the TCS is but one organization situated in conjunction with other trilateral, mini-lateral, and multilateral arrangements. Underneath this multilayered framework, US bilateral alliances continue to function as a strategic anchor behind the regional architecture. Thus existing US bilateral alliances indirectly shape and set the limit to CJK trilateralism. CJK trilateralism is an outgrowth of endogenous, incremental change. The TS and TCS did not emerge following some external shock. Neither was the process driven by shared threats. Instead, the TCS gradually evolved out of the APT breakfast meetings. A historical institutional framework thus helps us better understand not only why but also how the TCS developed. Although one might observe that CJK trilateralism fragmented from the APT process, the establishment of the TS and TCS is better conceptualized as institutional layering. The three leaders have not abandoned the APT, and in fact continue to hold trilateral discussions during the APT as well as the TS (providing that bilateral conflicts do not derail their meeting). Where does the TCS/ TS fit in the development of East Asia’s regional architecture? At the macroinstitutional level, policy makers, particularly in Seoul and Tokyo, have crafted trilateral cooperation to compliment or coincide with existing institutional arrangements and regional mechanisms for cooperation such as the EAS and APT. The TCS/ TS does not negate the relevance of bilateral alliance structures given its low stakes approach to regionalism and its ad hoc quality. Instead, the TCS folds into the region’s institutional patchwork, situated above bilateral structures and below other emerging networks such as regional and bilateral free-trade agreements (FTAs), a topic I turn to in the next section.

Regional Trade Agreements Any study on the evolution of East Asia’s regional architecture would be incomplete without some mention of ongoing developments in regional trade. In recent years, East Asia has experienced a flurry of FTA activity. Comprehensive reviews of the regional trade architecture have been provided elsewhere.129 The focus of this section is therefore limited to regional trade agreements (RTAs), or what Chris Dent has coined “grand regional” FTA projects.130 The broader goal is to demonstrate how the network of RTAs connects with the rest of Asia’s institutional patchwork. FTAs were not a part of the institutional landscape in Asia in the 1990s. By the early 2000s, however, several Asian countries had initiated or were participating

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Total Number of Agreements

300

250

200

150

100

50

0 Signed and in Effect Signed but not yet in Effect Negotiations Launched Framework Agreement Signed Proposed

1975 0 1 0 0 0

1980 1 1 0 0 0

1983 3 1 0 0 0

1989 3 1 0 0 1

1994 17 4 0 0 1

1999 29 16 1 20 4

2004 59 12 16 12 29

2009 104 9 45 11 49

2014 135 7 64 5 61

2017 151 8 81 5 85

Year

figure 5.2  Free-trade agreements by status s o u r c e : Asia Regional Integration Center, Asian Development Bank, http://aric.adb.org/fta.

in ongoing trade negotiations. By the end of 2014, 119 FTAs had been signed and were in effect. More agreements loom on the horizon.131 Figure 5.2 highlights the rise of FTAs in the Asia-Pacific, the vast majority of which are bilateral in nature.132 FTAs have become an important feature of the regional architecture. Christopher Dent provides three reasons for their significance. First, FTAs have reshaped the macrostructure of regional economic relations, pushing Asian economies toward a preferential trade approach and away from a global multilateral trade model. Second, FTAs have shifted regional trade policies by lowering economic barriers and bringing change to the commercial regulatory environment, setting rules on a range of issues including intellectual property rights, government procurement, and labor standards. Third, the burgeoning “noodle bowl” of FTAs has more recently persuaded countries to bring about greater coordination in trade policies by consolidating various agreements into broader regional FTAs.133 It is this last issue I examine more closely by highlighting the rise of the TransPacific Partnership (TPP) and the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP).

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FTAs differ in their technical content, issue coverage, and political end goals. From an administrative standpoint, the dense patterns of bilateral trade networks have become increasingly problematic with each agreement providing a different set of rules and regulations for trade. Although the regional trade architecture may eventually consolidate under a few RTAs, the proposed agreements, including the RCEP and TPP, reflect different approaches to regional trade. As Dent observes, “FTAs centered on East Asia tend to emphasize regulatory cooperation compared to the Anglo-Pacific preference for regulatory rights.”134 Developed Anglo countries treat FTAs as “behind-the-border market access deals” that are politically packaged as high-quality agreements and promote “best practices” on trade liberalization. In contrast, less developed East Asian countries use FTAs as a means of building closer “economic partnerships” with “provisions on economic cooperation and development capacity-building” added to the agreement text.135 A limited number of RTAs were in existence in the 1990s, most notably the ASEAN Free Trade Area (AFTA) signed in 1992. However, policy makers did not envision grand, regionwide RTAs until the mid-2000s. Proposals for such FTAs were aided by two concurrent trends. As discussed earlier, the first was the proliferation of bilateral FTAs. The second was related to greater momentum on regionalism, spurred by the arrival of the APT and the EAS. Between 2004 and 2006, three different RTAs were placed on the table. The first was the Free Trade Area of the Asia-Pacific (FTAAP), proposed by the APEC Business Forum in 2004. FTAAP was developed along the lines of APEC membership and favored by the United States.136 Around the same period, APT members presented early ideas for the East Asia Free Trade Agreement (EAFTA). In keeping with APT’s vision and exclusive membership, the EAFTA did not include Western members. China became the key proponent of the EAFTA. In 2006, Japan presented a proposal similar to the EAFTA known as the Comprehensive Economic Partnership for East Asia (CEPEA), which included the original members of the East Asia Summit (EAS). By including India, Australia, and New Zealand, CEPEA opened the potential for an expanded regional trade regime to reach South Asia and the Asia-Pacific. Of the three proposals, the FTAAP—until its revival at the 2014 APEC meeting in Beijing—was the least likely arrangement to emerge in the near future given the large and diverse number of actors (the twenty-one members of APEC) involved. Most Asian states preferred CEPEA (and later RCEP) over the FTAAP. Although the US had supported the FTAAP early on, US officials shifted gears in 2007 by announcing their decision to join negotiations of the Trans-Pacific

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S­ trategic Economic Partnership Agreement (TPSEPA).137 Formed in March 2006, the TPSEPA had previously existed as a four-member FTA among Singapore, New Zealand, Chile, and Brunei.138 Commonly referred to as the Pacific-4 (P4), membership was expanded to five when the US joined negotiations in March 2008. In November 2008, the negotiations were recast as the TPP and included Australia, Peru, and Vietnam. The TPP sought greater harmonization across the web of bilateral FTAs. This sentiment was expressed by Australia’s trade minister Simon Crean, who stated, “We need to start knitting together bilateral trading arrangements if we are to make progress toward our goal of ensuring FTAs are truly consistent with the multilateral system.”139 The TPP gained momentum with the addition of Malaysia in 2010, Canada and Mexico in 2012, and Japan in 2013. However, its future remains less clear now with the United States’ withdrawal from the agreement in January 2017. The eleven remaining countries, led by Japan, moved forward to modify and sign a new agreement in March 2018, with several clauses introduced by the US either removed or frozen.140

Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership The TPP (or CPTPP or TPP-11) has lost some its luster without US support.141 Nevertheless, a discussion of the TPP, especially in the context of the Asia pivot, remains important for understanding the development of Asia’s regional architecture. Until the Trump administration abandoned the TPP, this multilateral trade agreement had become the centerpiece of the Obama administration’s economic rebalance to Asia.142 The agreement, initially signed in February 2016, consisted of twenty-nine different chapters to reduce tariffs and eliminate nontariff barriers by establishing standards on issues ranging from intellectual property, government procurement, financial services, telecommunications, and labor conditions among others.143 The then-twelve economies of the TPP accounted for 40 percent of the world’s GDP and 26 percent of global trade, which would have made it the world’s largest FTA.144 During his tenure, President Obama had identified Asia as a prime region for US exports, and thus part of a larger effort to bolster the US economy. The TPP would function as the “platform for the dissemination of high quality rules of trade and investment.”145 But beyond potential gains reaped through efficient trade, the US also staked out a strong position in the TPP to avoid being left out of Asian regional integration driven by the APT and EAS. As Solís argues, the Bush administration’s early decision to join the P4 reflected a “strong desire to avoid being sidelined from Asia’s budding trade architecture.”146 Rather than proceed through bilateral negotiations, the US believed that if a critical mass joined

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the multilateral trade agreement, others, not wanting to be left out of the process, would be compelled to join. The TPP would eventually be layered on top of other existing regional forums and multilateral trade institutions. Although the Obama administration left the door open for other economies to join the TPP, conspicuously absent from the negotiations was China. Much debate has been raised about the TPP and whether the US has used trade arrangements to contain China and provide an economic counterweight against the region’s largest economy.147 Some, most notably economist Jagdish Bhagwati, claimed that the TPP provisions intentionally excluded China.148 Even if not deliberate, the TPP’s regulatory emphasis discouraged Chinese participation.149 Others have dismissed such claims pointing out that any APEC economy, including China, has the right to request entry into TPP negotiations.150 However, China has eschewed the TPP in favor of the lower stakes RCEP agreement.

Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership With the US no longer a part of the TPP (as of 2018), renewed attention has shifted to RCEP. If the TPP represented a liberal, high-standard approach to free trade promoted by the United States, and now by Japan, the RCEP offered an alternative low stakes trade arrangement for Asian economies. RCEP, officially proposed in November 2011 at the Nineteenth ASEAN Summit, was itself a rebranding of the CEPEA. The sixteen-member CEPEA, first proposed in 2006, had stalled as a result of Beijing’s reluctance to join a Japanese-led initiative.151 Momentum flagged even further as TPP negotiations made headway. Therefore, ASEAN took up the mantle to revive trade discussions centered on East Asian regional integration. ASEAN essentially took a middle path, reconciling China’s proposed EAFTA with the Japan-led CEPEA. The first round of RCEP negotiations began in May 2013. Unlike the TPP, the members of RCEP do not demand a high bar for trade liberalization.152 The basis of the RCEP is the ASEAN FTA and the separate FTAs signed between ASEAN and each of the “plus six” countries: China, Japan, South Korea, India, Australia, and New Zealand. As Dent notes, these are “relatively simple, conventional FTAs that by and large reflected the interests of developing countries.”153 The intent was to “broaden and deepen” ASEAN’s economic engagement with FTA partners. RCEP therefore aims to “cement ­ASEAN’s central role in the emerging regional economic architecture.”154 In addition, the RCEP seeks to “harmonize the ‘noodle bowl’ of differences between the various ASEAN FTAs . . . promote greater regional economic integration, progressively eliminate tariff and nontariff barriers, and ensure consistency with

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the World Trade Organization’s rules.”155 Realistically, however, the wide gap in economic development among members precludes any ambitious liberalization agenda from materializing in the near future. Emphasizing economic partnership rather than regulatory rigor, a final RCEP agreement would likely exclude wellprotected sectors such as agriculture while only setting basic rules for commercial regulation. Like the TPP, the RCEP is not without its detractors. FTA negotiations among the “plus six” countries have been contentious and will likely affect the quality of any RCEP agreement. For example, problems that emerge in the China-JapanKorea FTA will likely reappear at the regional level. And while RCEP remains open to other countries, including the United States, it remains to be seen how the US reacts to ongoing developments and whether it decides to join at a later date. Although the debate between the TPP and RCEP is marked by undertones of geopolitical competition, the two trade arrangements are not mutually exclusive. Countries that have joined both the TPP and RCEP see the processes as “two paths to the same destination.”156 Neither Washington nor Beijing has been barred from joining multiple RTAs, and in the case of the United States, the potential to return to the TPP still exists. In a somewhat surprising turn of events, the conversation on RTAs in late 2014 brought attention back to the FTAAP. Advocated by Washington a decade earlier, Beijing, as host of the 2014 APEC Summit, took up the cause of the FTAAP by articulating the “Beijing Roadmap” for APEC’s “contribution to the realization of the FTAAP.”157 Delegates of the APEC summit endorsed the Beijing Roadmap, offering more concrete steps to fulfill an Asia-Pacific free-trade area. While Beijing’s backing of the FTAAP may be construed as a direct challenge to the TPP, one should keep in mind that the FTAAP would include the economies of both the US and China.158 The FTAAP encompasses a trade area beyond either the TPP or RCEP with both arrangements recognized as a possible pathway to reaching an FTAAP. As stated in the leaders’ declaration of the 2014 APEC meeting, member economies agreed that the FTAAP would “aim to minimize any negative effects resulting from the proliferation of regional and bilateral RTAs/FTAs[,] . . . building on current and developing regional architectures.”159

RTAs in the Regional Architecture How does Asia’s trade architecture fit within the framework of institutional layering? The network of bilateral and multilateral FTAs is often treated as distinct from the rest of Asia’s institutional architecture. However, the development of the trade architecture is not independent of existing regional institutions, nor is

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it completely disjointed from the region’s security architecture. As noted earlier, the TPP and the RCEP are linked to the broader vision of different regional institutions. The FTAAP and the TPP find their roots in APEC and ultimately strengthen the foundations of an Asia-Pacific community. As some have argued, the TPP’s consolidation represents “the initial first stage for realizing the APECbased FTAAP” in the future.160 Meanwhile, RCEP’s conception traces back to the APT and the EAS and the vision of an East Asia-centered regional community. Linked to the wider institutional and geopolitical context, RTAs add an important dimension to the broader regional architecture. RTAs represent the interests of individual states. But as suggested earlier, national preferences for particular trade groupings are in part shaped by institutional choices made earlier in time. Rather than existing as an independent layer, then, they coexist and overlap with other institutions, adding complexity to Asia’s evolving regional architecture. It would be naïve to deny that past US and present Japanese preference for (CP)TPP, and Chinese (and ASEAN) preference for RCEP and a wider FTAAP are not part of some broader political game for greater influence over the region’s future. Several key Obama administration officials explicitly linked the TPP to the strategic rebalance.161 However, states have not directly blocked or vetoed the existence of potentially competing regional free-trade agreements. Although new RTAs have merged or replaced older proposals, RTAs that remain distinct from each other, such as the TPP and RCEP, are more often created on top of or parallel to existing trade agreements. For some states such as Singapore or Australia, entering multiple trade arrangements is unproblematic; the TPP and RCEP both represent pathways to a free trade area of the Asia-Pacific.162 However, the development of parallel and overlapping RTAs over time also adds to regime complexity, potentially undermining the original intent of harmonizing and consolidating Asia’s noodle bowl.

Conclusion Notwithstanding the effects of the 2008 financial crisis, regionalization and regional institution building kept apace during the 2000s. However, the rhetoric of East Asian community building rang hollow as tensions flared over maritime and historical disputes. Underlying this shift were changing perceptions of Beijing’s newfound assertiveness in foreign policy, thus raising the strategic uncertainty tied to China’s rise and the regional balance of power.163 In this respect, Asian actors may find that the regional architecture has taken an unexpected turn for the worse, or at the very least, hit a significant road bump. Although APT leaders understood the challenges confronting regional institution

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building, they had assumed that confidence building measures and more frequent interaction would foster a greater spirit of dialogue and cooperation. This has not been the case, reflected in the inability of ARF members to come up with a joint statement for the first time in 2011, or the suspension of the trilateral summit from 2013 and 2015.164 In contrast, the downturn in the strategic environment may have prompted some actors to double down on the construction of the region’s institutional infrastructure. Perceived as somewhat aloof and indifferent to regional institution building in the past, the US under the Obama administration paid much more attention to Asia’s regional architecture through its rebalance strategy.165 As argued earlier, this attention to regional architecture goes well beyond bilateral alliance structures.166 Other regional actors such as ASEAN, Japan, and Australia have also maintained their interest in building regional institutions. Meanwhile, China has become more direct in promoting its own institutional initiatives for the region. Most notable is Beijing’s creation of the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB) in 2014. The AIIB may certainly complement existing multilateral development banks such as the Japanese-led Asian Development Bank and the World Bank. However, in some quarters, policy makers reacted with caution toward, if not outright initial resistance to, the AIIB, given the political implications of a China-led regional financial institution.167 On the security front, China raised its ambitions for the Xiangshan Forum, a biyearly defense exchange, by upgrading the event from a track 2 to a track 1.5 dialogue, and by extending invitations to the defense ministers of Japan, South Korea, and North Korea.168 Such actions followed the heavily discussed remarks of Chinese President Xi Jinping in May 2014 at the Fourth Summit of the Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia (CICA), where he invoked his new security concept for Asia.169 A key difference in the era of Chinese “assertiveness” and the US strategic rebalance, however, is that policy makers are more willing to adopt a variegated approach to regional institution building. Although multilateralism maintains a certain appeal to Asian actors, as attested to by a survey of elite foreign-policy makers conducted by the Center for Strategic and International Studies in 2009 and 2014, the existing complex patchwork suggests that policy makers have become more comfortable and accepting of the different shape, size, and configuration of regional institutions.170 What, then, are the implications of the complex patchwork? I turn to this very question in the next chapter.

6

America First, China’s Rise, and Regional Order

Asia’s current complex patchwork of overlapping bilateral, trilateral, and multilateral institutions has come a long way from the postwar bilateral alliance system established in the 1950s. Yet in other ways, the regional architecture exhibits a great degree of continuity. Despite Asia’s new multilateralism and the proliferation of regional institutions, Cold War era “relics” such as US bilateral alliances and ASEAN still remain at the core of Asia’s regional architecture. Looking at both change and continuity, how do we make sense of the trajectory of Asia’s institutional architecture, and what effect does the complex patchwork have on regional order and governance? Stated differently, what explains the uneven, somewhat haphazard trajectory of regional institution building, and what consequences does this carry for the region? This book has focused primarily on the first question, treating the regional architecture—that is the complex patchwork—as an outcome to be explained. While numerous factors including balance-of-power dynamics, divergent national preferences, and nationalism have contributed to the development of Asia’s complex patchwork, the argument presented in this book has stressed the importance of the historical institutional context in shaping regional architecture. In this chapter, I slightly break from the historical institutional framework to examine the effects and consequences of the complex patchwork on regional order and governance. I begin by returning to the brief discussion of Trump’s electoral victory in the book’s introduction (see Chapter 1) and its impact on the direction of Asia’s regional architecture. Trump’s approach to Asia offers a real test for historical institutional arguments, given his less-than-enthusiastic

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a­ ttitude toward multilateralism and his statements undercutting long-standing US bilateral alliances in Asia. The second section turns to China’s increasing role in shaping Asia’s regional architecture. Here I draw attention to new Chinese initiatives under President Xi Jinping’s leadership, including the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB) and the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). The third section addresses the close relationship between regional architecture and regional order. It also draws on the historical institutionalism and regime complexity literatures to describe how the complex patchwork both complicates and advances institutional cooperation. I conclude by offering a more optimistic outlook regarding the complex patchwork and its potential for improving regional governance.

Asia’s Regional Architecture and President Trump: The End of a Liberal Regional Order? As argued in Chapter 1, the election of US President Donald Trump came as a surprise, if not a shock, to many Americans, and especially to supporters of Demo­ crat candidate Hillary Clinton. A Clinton presidency would have all but ensured a continuation of the Asia pivot. Her campaign included a number of Asian foreign policy experts committed to strong bilateral alliances, multilateral networks, and regional free trade—all features of Asia’s evolving regime complex.1 Trump’s Asia policy has continued to evolve entering the midpoint of his presidency. The lack of clarity in part stems from contradictory statements made by the president sometimes indicating support for existing postwar alliances and institutions, and at other times scoffing at multilateralism and calling for a new mercantilist, nationalist, “America-first” brand of foreign policy. Discrepancies in the president’s own rhetoric on issues like North Korean nuclear proliferation, and between his foreign policy and national security staff, also add to the confusion. There are certainly marked differences in President Trump’s style and approach to Asia from those of his predecessor. Thus far, however, his actions have not resulted in any major overhaul of Asia’s existing regional architecture. In November 2017, President Trump traveled to Asia on a lengthy twelve-day trip for a series of bilateral and multilateral meetings. The trip did not reveal any new policy pronouncements, as had been anticipated by some policy experts in Asia and the US. However, it did reiterate the administration’s ongoing priorities: building international pressure to denuclearize North Korea, pursuing “fair and reciprocal trade,” and promoting a “free and open Indo-Pacific region.”2 With the exception of Trump’s economic strategy in Asia, specifically withdrawal from the TPP and the imposition of new tariffs, the Trump administration has not deviated significantly from his predecessor’s “pivot” to Asia. Such a view com-

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ports with expectations from a historical institutional analysis of Asia’s regional architecture. First, bilateral alliances between the US and key partners such as Japan and South Korea continue to play a critical role in Asian security. The US-Japan alliance remains strong under the Trump administration. The personal relationship forged between the two leaders, in no small part due to Shinzo Abe’s own political acumen in identifying the transactional nature of Trump and moving early to cultivate a positive relationship, has helped place the US-Japan alliance on the forefront of Trump’s Asia strategy. Abe was the first world leader to meet Trump, at Trump Tower in New York City, after the president’s election victory. Subsequently, Trump reached out to Abe more than any other leader in his first year in office.3 Their relationship and the state of the alliance are best symbolized by Abe’s gift to Trump: baseball caps customized with the message “Donald and Shinzo, Make Alliance Even Greater.” Tokyo itself has “doubled down” on the Trump administration, even as Washington and Tokyo diverge on economic policy and nuclear engagement with North Korea.4 Policy makers concerned about the Trump administration deviating from its postwar commitments in Asia have also welcomed Abe as a leader willing to support existing bilateral and multilateral institutions while steering Trump from veering too far off course from the liberal international order. For example, as discussed in Chapter 5, Japan took the lead in negotiating the TPP following US withdrawal from the multilateral trade pact. Japan has also been instrumental in the development of trilateral and mini-lateral meetings, including the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue (QSD) of Asia’s large maritime democracies. Abe first initiated the QSD between Australia, India, Japan, and the United States in 2007 during his first term (2006 –2007) as prime minister.5 Although it is unclear which country proposed reconvening the working-level QSD a decade later, Trump’s own proclamation of a “free and open Indo-Pacific region” resonated closely with Abe’s notion of a “democratic security diamond” preserving the “common good.”6 Likewise, the US–South Korea alliance has not yet imploded, despite Trump’s campaign rhetoric criticizing Seoul as free riding on the US military presence in South Korea. To the contrary, Trump dispatched key US officials to South Korea in the first hudnred days of his administration, including Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis, Secretary of State Rex Tillerson, and Vice President Mike Pence. All three officials unequivocally stated the importance of the US–South Korea alliance in the wake of increased missile and nuclear threats from North Korea. The election of President Moon Jae-in April 2017 also raised anxiety about potential policy discord over North Korean issues, and on South Korean foreign

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policy more generally, given ideological differences between the conservative Trump and progressive Moon governments.7 Although the bilateral relationship experienced some minor friction, the Moon government has taken a pragmatic approach to its foreign policy by embracing the US alliance while also attempting to smooth relations with Beijing. In a speech in front of the South Korean National Assembly in November 2017, President Trump hit the right chord by exercising rhetorical restraint in his criticism of North Korea while also supporting ongoing and future US–South Korean partnership. Substantively, Seoul and Washington have closely coordinated their response to North Korea. This included calls for greater sanctions, joint military exercises, and the lifting of US limits to South Korea’s own ballistic missile defense program. Most notably, President Moon permitted the US to deploy the Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) system despite opposition from Moon during his campaign and from his own political party. And despite different interpretations adopted by Seoul and Washington regarding North Korea’s sudden shift toward diplomatic engagement in the first half of 2018, close coordination between the two allies has persisted, enabling inter-Korea and US–North Korea dialogue to proceed. Other US bilateral relationships with treaty and nontreaty partners in Asia have not experienced any major shifts. For example, President Trump proclaimed the “great relationship” between the US and the Philippines during his visit to Manila in November 2017. Unlike his predecessor, Trump has remained mostly silent on human rights issues related to Duterte’s ongoing antidrug campaign.8 In fact, before their meeting, Trump had praised Duterte for “doing an unbelievable job” in combatting drug dealers, despite international concern over extrajudicial killings. Thus, Washington appears keen to sustain bilateral alliances in Asia, even if it means ignoring human rights concerns. As the White House announced, “The amount of cooperation that’s taking place below the leader level, made possible by our long-standing relationship and alliance with the Philippines, is still very robust.”9 During his first year in office, Trump and other senior-level officials also met with leaders or received delegations at the White House from Thailand, India, Singapore, Vietnam, Indonesia, and Malaysia. There is nothing unusual about such visits. However, given early concerns that President Trump would reverse US priorities away from Asia, the steady stream of visitors has indicated some desire to cultivate old and new bilateral relationships in Asia. This was reaffirmed by Secretary of State Mike Pompeo’s announcement in August 2018 at the ASEAN Regional Forum to provide approximately $300 million in security assistance to “improve security relationships across the Indo-Pacific region.”10

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If Trump’s actions thus far indicate support for bilateralism, his approach to multilateralism is mixed. His disdain for multilateralism is no secret, reflected most notably in his views on multilateral trade agreements. One writer lamented Trump’s “assault” on multilateral agreements with the headline “Trump and the Coming Death of Multilateralism.”11 It should be noted, however, that Trump’s criticism is less about the principles of multilateralism than on the perceived disadvantages accrued to the United States through multilateral arrangements such as NATO, NAFTA, and the TPP. These include increased trade deficits, unemployment, and unequal burden-share costs. For instance, on trade issues, President Trump has been critical of bilateral agreements such as the KORUS FTA in addition to multilateral ones. Trump’s November 2017 trip to Asia was a good indicator that his administration intended to participate in regional forums and multilateral meetings. Most regional institutions in Asia remain informal and relatively weak, giving Trump little reason to criticize existing multilateral institutions in Asia since they do not constrain US interests. Asian policy makers acknowledge and US policy makers accept that showing up to meetings such as APEC, the ARF, and EAS is half the battle. There was concern prior to Trump’s first presidential trip to Asia that he might attend a multilateral forum to bash multilateralism.12 However, Trump appeared to relish the pomp surrounding his visit and the opportunity to socialize with Asian leaders. Although President Trump ultimately skipped out on the East Asia Summit, his national security team persuaded him of the importance of attending other multilateral meetings, including the APEC Leaders’ Summit and an ASEAN leaders meeting celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of ASEAN. Apart from President Trump, other senior officials have remained engaged in multilateral meetings. Secretary of Defense Mattis’s speech at the Shangri-La ­Dialouge in June 2017 was noteworthy not because it revealed any new break with past Asia policy, but because it outlined continuity in US defense posture in the region and general support for a “rules-based order.”13 As one Asia expert commented, the structure of Mattis’s remarks actually mirrored a speech on the future of the rebalance to Asia delivered by his predecessor, Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter.14 Mattis, as well as Secretary of State Tillerson and Secretary of State Pompeo, also proceeded as usual to attend other multilateral meetings including the ADMM Plus and the ASEAN Regional Forum, respectively, during Trump’s first two years in office. The preceding discussion is not a defense of Trump’s Asia policy. Nor do I suggest that the current administration’s policies have been inconsequential to the trajectory of Asia’s regional architecture. What I do argue, however, in ­contrast

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to many writers who see signs of an imploding liberal international order, is greater continuity to Asia’s regional architecture.15 As processes of institutional layering in Asia have demonstrated over the past three decades, the postwar order in Asia, defined by American hegemony and propped by US-led alliances and multilateral institutions, has been resilient despite the threat of war, financial panic, and nuclear crisis. As argued throughout this book, endogenous processes of institutional change suggest that macroinstitutional systems such as the regional architecture will evolve gradually, even if actors face periodic exogenous shocks. Leaders such as the US president may attempt to steer countries toward a different institutional direction, but path dependent mechanisms, including increasing returns and positive feedback loops, incentivize policy makers to stay the institutional course, thus constraining the actions of leaders. Challenges to the existing regional architecture and, by extension, the regional order will be less affected by the actions of the Trump administration than by external challengers such as China, which hold a longer horizon for institutional change than the United States. Whereas the Trump administration’s actions, on the whole, are still reinforcing rather than undercutting the existing regional architecture,16 China’s recent efforts at regional development and institution building carries the potential to alter the regional architecture. Yet for all the discussion of China upending the existing order, China too must work within the constraints of the current institutional architecture. In this scenario, processes of endogenous change and institutional layering are more likely to occur than any sudden shift in the regional architecture.17

China’s Stake in the Regional Architecture A central question preoccupying scholars and policy makers alike is whether a more powerful, confident China will accept existing institutional arrangements that underpin the current regional order, or whether it will “seek to rewrite the rules of the games.”18 As discussed in Chapter 3, in the early 1990s, China was initially a reluctant participant of Asian multilateralism. Under the concept of cooperative security, however, Beijing began to accept multilateral institutions as a means of reassuring neighbors and promoting dialogue and confidence-­building measures.19 Today, China is “active and engaged” in Asian multilateralism. It regularly participates in many of the region’s most significant forums and institutions, including APEC, ARF, APT, EAS, and ADMM Plus.20 China’s imprint on Asia’s regional architecture continues to grow as it launches new regional initiatives around its interests.21 Different views exist in China about its own foreign policy goals, much less what its future global role should be. For instance, David Shambaugh, in his 2013

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study China Goes Global, observed at least seven different articulations of China’s global identity. These ranged from nativist and realist views on one end of the spectrum, to more reassuring multilateral and globalist narratives on the other end.22 No single domestic narrative captures China’s rise and its implications for global (and regional) order. Yet under Xi Jinping’s leadership, an official narrative on Chinese foreign policy has begun to emerge, with a clearer directive for how China should approach regional affairs. Xi Jinping’s aspiration for China was on full display at the Nineteenth Party Congress meeting in 2017.23 Although discussion of Chinese foreign policy is beyond the scope of this book, it is worth exploring how China’s recent institution-building initiatives might influence the direction of Asia’s regional architecture. Around 2013, China began publicly promoting a series of economic investment and infrastructure initiatives across Eurasia including the AIIB, the Silk Road Fund, and the One Belt One Road Initiative (now officially the Belt and Road Initiative, or BRI). Efforts to boost regional development were complemented by Beijing’s desire to buttress its own multilateral security forums, including the Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia (CICA), the Shanghai Cooperative Organization, and the Xiangshan Forum. Not coincidentally, the aforementioned multilateral forums did not include US participation. Beyond growing regional rivalry, some policy analysts have interpreted China’s approach to regional institution building as a deliberate attempt to challenge the liberal institutional order backed by Washington and its allies.24 As Ellen Frost argues, “Recent economic and security developments threaten to fragment Asia’s institutional landscape, erode regional stability, and undermine Asian confidence in the legitimacy of the institutions and values underpinning the existing liberal economic order.”25 Yet others have argued that China can and should play a greater role in regional governance, and that the US need not obsessively combat all gains made by China, especially if Chinese actions can enhance regional governance.26

Asia Infrastructure Investment Bank From 2013, two Chinese initiatives in particular—the AIIB and BRI—have drawn significant attention from regional actors. China established the AIIB as a multilateral development bank to help finance regional infrastructure projects in Asia. The US received heavy criticism for not only rejecting the AIIB but also pressuring its allies not to join. The Obama administration raised two objections in particular. First, it argued that China’s disproportionate voting share would steer the AIIB toward Beijing’s own economic and strategic objectives in Asia. Second, the US government believed the AIIB would bypass the higher

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i­nternational accounting standards of other global financial institutions in regard to environmental protection, labor rights, and anticorruption measures in issuing loans. More fundamentally, US policy makers remained wary that the AIIB would undermine the work of existing multilateral banks, increasing China’s influence in Asia at the expense of the United States and its allies such as Japan. Most analysts, including those in the US, rebuked the Obama administration for its resistance to the AIIB. Several editorials and opinion pieces referred to Washington’s diplomatic response as a “massive diplomatic failure” and a “major strategic blunder.”27 The AIIB included fifty-seven members at its launch in 2016. By the end of 2017, it had expanded to eighty-four members.28 An early look at the AIIB following its first annual meeting in 2016 suggests that some of Washington’s concerns, at least regarding the AIIB’s institutional design, were misplaced. The AIIB decided to cofinance several of its initial projects with other multilateral banks, including the World Bank. Such collaboration would not have been possible without the AIIB meeting standards adopted by other multilateral banks. In terms of voting power, China is the largest shareholder at 28.7 percent, but that does not give China an outright majority to impose its preferences.29

Belt and Road Initiative The AIIB exists as a formal multilateral organization. However, the BRI, which is neither multilateral nor formal in nature, may better reflect China’s long-term regional ambitions. The BRI is not a regional institution in the formal sense. In practice, it exists as a series of mostly bilateral investment agreements between China (or Chinese state-owned enterprises) and foreign states, but it is also increasingly seen as part of a longer-term grand strategy for China. Chinese development projects in Central and South Asia have existed since the 2000s. From the 2010s, however, Chinese leadership began articulating many of these projects and investments within the context of a broader regional narrative. During a 2013 speech in Kazakhstan, Xi Jinping pronounced the idea of a “New Silk Road Economic Belt.” A month later in Indonesia, President Xi made reference to the “21st Century Maritime Silk Road.”30 The CCP eventually merged the two ideas into the Belt and Road Initiative, as referred to in a March 2015 document released by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Ministry of Commerce.31 Representing a “modern reinvention of the ancient Silk Road,”32 the BRI aims to connect all subregions in Asia and link the continents of Asia, Europe, and Africa through a “vast network of railways, highways, ports, pipelines, and communication infrastructure.”33 To this end, Beijing identified six different economic corridors for development that would help facilitate trade and investment across several land and maritime routes.34

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Many experts, including those in China, see the BRI as a grand strategy for China with the potential to reshape Asia’s regional architecture.35 As China expert Christopher Johnson states, “There is little doubt that President Xi views OBOR as the signature foreign policy theme of his leadership tenure and the practical embodiment of his ‘China Dream’ for promoting national rejuvenation and cementing the country’s place as a leading world power.”36 Hence, the BRI simultaneously addresses China’s domestic, economic, and strategic interests.37 It provides a major economic stimulus to the Chinese economy. At the same time, it offers a solution for managing industrial overcapacity and surplus capital by opening new markets for exports. The BRI countries also provide China access to natural resources. Additionally, economic growth across inner China and the western frontier may help reduce the economic gap across China, thus bringing greater internal stability and cohesion.38 Chinese leaders tout the BRI as an economic initiative fostering trade, investment, and technical cooperation among partnering countries in a win-win scenario.39 However, the geostrategic benefits of BRI loom large in Chinese thinking. Several analysts characterized the BRI as China’s own “pivot to the West” in response to Washington’s earlier strategic rebalance to Asia.40 For Chinese strategic thinkers, the BRI avoids a head-on collision with the US by “march(ing) westward.”41 As one PLA general even stated prior to the US strategic rebalance, drawing “countless economic links and common interests with countries to the West” would help “dismantle the US encirclement of China.”42 At a minimum, the BRI accounts for additional energy resources and transportation routes, which in the long run enhances China’s capabilities and geostrategic position.

China’s Approach to Regional Architecture The AIIB and BRI reflect new realities for China within Asia’s evolving and expanding regional architecture, drawing greater attention to the west and south of Washington’s traditional focus on East Asia. Furthermore, a westward turn is found in Chinese-led security institutions, including a revitalized SCO and a strengthened CICA forum. India and Pakistan were formally added as SCO members in June 2017 following a two-year process.43 Beijing’s three-year chairmanship of the CICA (from 2014 to 2016), a forum with strong representation from Central and Southwest Asia, was also extended to 2018. A few observations can be made about China’s influence on Asia’s regional architecture before drawing ties between the architecture and the future order. First, China has become increasingly active in supporting multilateral processes. Regional and global governance are central to Chinese foreign policy thinking. As David Shambaugh notes, Xi Jinping receives expert briefings and convenes ­Politburo

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meetings pertaining to global governance.44 The Chinese have addressed, both materially and rhetorically, an array of challenges, including climate change, international peacekeeping, antipiracy, disaster relief, economic governance, development aid, and energy security.45 New multilateral institutions like the AIIB reflect ­China’s determination to set the multilateral agenda and adjust the rules of the game. Second, despite China’s participation in multilateral processes, it still prefers to address regional problems bilaterally if multilateralism is used to apply diplomatic pressure on China. A key example includes Beijing’s effort to resolve maritime disputes in the South China Sea bilaterally. China treats the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea and multilateral dialogue through ASEAN as perfunctory. The BRI also presents another example of bilateralism. Although China may provide regional public goods (i.e., infrastructure through the BRI), the BRI itself does not operate through multilateral mechanisms by which states make decisions about infrastructure collectively. Negotiations are usually conducted bilaterally between China and the partnering country, not multilaterally.46 Third, China has demonstrated its preference for regional institutions through which it can maximize its influence. In practice, this means Beijing tends to favor institutions in which the United States remains absent: the CICA, SCO AIIB, TS, and APT to name a few. By comparison, China has remained lukewarm to regional institutions championed by Washington, such as the East Asia Summit. Fourth, although there is no one-size-fits-all approach to multilateral institutions adopted by China, Beijing’s approach to multilateralism has taken on a much more strategic dimension under Xi Jinping’s leadership. In the past, China’s participation in regional institutions were more likely to be perceived as signaling its peaceful rise and development.47 Since the launch of the BRI, however, China has been more intentional in linking its regional initiatives to broader strategic aims. This is not to argue that China did not use multilateral institutions as a means of advancing its own interests in the past. But unlike the previous decade, China’s intention and ability to reshape the regional architecture has become much more real. As mentioned in Chapter 5, this was seen during Xi Jinping’s CICA speech in his reference to “outdated” Cold War alliances and call for a “new regional security cooperation architecture,” enabling Asians to address Asian security problems.48 Xi Jinping’s address at the Nineteenth Party Congress in 2017 also provided a window onto China’s regional ambitions and global aspirations.

Regional Architecture and Order To recap, the actions of the United States appear to encourage some degree of continuity in Asia’s regional architecture despite Trump’s erratic statements.

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Meanwhile, China wants greater influence in the region and seeks to fill a void so that the US and its allies are less present. What does this all portend for Asian institution building and regional order? What role will ASEAN or major actors such as Japan or Australia play in the next phase of Asia’s regional architecture? How might tensions on the Korean Peninsula or the Taiwan Strait, or unresolved historical disputes, complicate institution-building efforts, which in turn affect the regional order?

What Is Order? The relationship between regional architecture and order varies with one’s conception of order. For instance, realists who view order from a balance-of-power logic will see the regional architecture as a reflection of the existing distribution of power. In contrast, institutionalists and social constructivists are more likely to see the regional architecture and its features of rules, norms, and institutions as shaping, if not also defining the existing order. The relationship between order and architecture need not be (and is unlikely) unidirectional.49 In fact, a historical institutional approach to regional architecture accepts the mutual constitution of both concepts. For instance, John Ikenberry’s narrative of the liberal international order describes how the US (or the West) established postwar institutions, most notably the United Nations and the Bretton Woods system. The liberal hegemonic order was indeed a reflection of Western power. But it was also underpinned by “a web of interconnected institutions” embedded within that order.50 Regional order might therefore be interpreted as rule-governed interaction among states.51 Scholars and policy analysts have written extensively about Asian regional order and the likelihood of order transitions, whether regionally or globally. The debate has accelerated under the Trump presidency over concerns that the US has abdicated its leadership in global affairs.52 Under the tongue-and-cheek title “Make China Great Again,” Evan Osnos in the New Yorker writes, “As Donald Trump surrenders America’s global commitments, Xi Jinping is learning to pick up the pieces.”53 Andrew Phillips states that China is “skillfully exploiting American introversion, pursuing a grand strategy that seeks to ease out and ultimately displace America as Asia’s dominant power.”54 Council on Foreign Affairs president Richard Haas has remarked that the US has gone from “leading from behind” to “leaving from behind” under Trump.55 Note that these observations are not necessarily about a changed balance of hard power. Whereas power transitions are a function of shifts in the balance of material capabilities, order transitions are tied to questions of legitimacy, status,

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and leadership. If order transitions require a shift in the “rules of the game,” then transitions must be forged “discursively and normatively.”56 Evelyn Goh’s work on contested order is particularly useful here. She finds that order rests on “a web of norms and rules underpinned by agreement about values among member states, consisting of a social structure that is not easily subverted or overthrown, and through which significant systemic changes must be mediated.”57 As Muthiah Alagappa states, “The construction of order is a historical process in which intersubjective understandings and their translations into institutions are reached through struggle, accommodation, and cooperation.”58 Regional architecture should therefore factor prominently in our understanding of Asian order if the latter involves the legitimization of rules, norms, and institutions.

Three Scenarios of Asian Order Modified Liberal Order  There are generally three broad scenarios for Asian order as it relates to regional architecture. The first, noted by Schweller and Pu, is a modified liberal order still dominated by the hub-and-spokes system and multilateral institutions such as ASEAN, but with increasing buy-in from China and other nondemocratic or quasi-democratic countries only loosely connected to the current regional architecture. How “liberal” this order will look may depend on the degree to which Beijing supports or undercuts regional governance. In a period of negotiated and contested order, the US has vacillated between stymieing and welcoming Chinese participation in global and regional institutions. Either way, as Evan Feigenbaum argues, “China’s emergence [is] making US efforts to defend the existing (liberal) architecture more difficult.”59 Even as China has become much more active in initiating and participating in regional forums and institutions, it has also attempted to “diversify the system” by drawing in greater participation from nonliberal states and supporting parallel summits.60 Similarly, David Shambaugh argues that China, while “upholding the existing system in the main,” also seeks to “revise the structures and procedures of global governance” in a manner commensurate to its status and power.61 However, a modified liberal order would not necessarily entail the demise of institutions that have remained central to the postwar regional order such as the hub-and-spokes alliance system and the ensuing web of security relationships that have recently grown out of this system. Nor would it seem likely that China would do away with ASEAN-centered institutions, particularly the APT, which it has traditionally supported. The modified liberal order is not necessarily a struggle over fundamental principles, then, but one in which rising powers such as China “wish to gain more authority and leadership within it.”62

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China-Dominated Order  China may ultimately accept a modified liberal order, one in which it lays claim to a larger stake. However, scholars less sanguine about a liberal order envision a new order dominated by China. Key here is whether China merely seeks greater authority and leadership within existing institutions to reflect more of its own regional interests, or if China carries more ambitious designs to fundamentally alter the existing architecture, and by extension, regional (or global) order.63 A China-led order would naturally center on Chinesepreferred regional institutions, ultimately backed by its enormous economy and rising military strength. In this scenario, the US might withdraw from its commitments in Asia, decoupling itself from the hub-and-spokes system. ASEAN would cede some of its own regional institutional legitimacy to China. Beijing would play a more influential role in shaping the APT or ARF to cater to Chinese security interests. In a China-dominated order, the rise of Chinese preferred security and economic initiatives such as the SCO or the BRI might dislodge US dominance in the region with a system much more “ideologically congenial to Eurasian autocracies.”64 Multiple Orders  The modified liberal and China-dominated systems represent a vertically structured order in which hierarchy and power intersect with the prevailing rules and norms embodied in regional institutions. However, in a third scenario, order may be structured horizontally so that no single power dominates the region. Instead, authority is decentralized or diffused to the subregional level, delegated through major or secondary powers, and supported by subregional organizations such as the SCO, SAARC, ASEAN, or TCS. Such an order may be analogous to Fareed Zakaria’s “rise of the rest” thesis where other regional and secondary powers such as India, China, Japan, or Indonesia contribute to greater regional public goods.65 Globally, this may be “no one’s world,” as Charles Kupchan states, where emerging powers neither defer to Western leadership nor conform to the liberal international order.66 Some find the end of liberal hegemony unproblematic as old and new powers begin to interact in a “multiplex theater” bringing together different ideas, resources, and leadership to address global issues.67 Others, however, are more concerned about the current devolution of order in an era of declining US power. Thinkers such as Richard Haas still believe US leadership will be indispensable in the updating to “World Order 2.0.”68 In what Van Jackson deems “one region, many orders” a plurality of competitive orders may exist where no single state or fixed set of rules will dominate across the region.69 China may dominate the economic sphere, whereas the US may continue to influence the security domain. ASEAN may exercise leadership in Southeast Asia but not hold much sway in other Asian subregions. The US and

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its allies may contribute significantly to security norms in Northeast Asia but may defer to Chinese leadership in Central Asia. Historical institutional arguments do not allow us to predict precisely which future lies ahead for Asia. A fragmentation in the regional architecture may produce a pluralistic, competitive order, propped or organized around different subregional institutions. But contrasting the realist alternative of a predominantly competitive order, the historical institutional thesis I propose suggests more reasons for greater complementariness across institutions (which I argue later). As such, the decentralization of regional power and growing institutional overlap may help facilitate regional governance. Such arguments about the region resonate with Acharya’s view of global order in which a global concert of powers interact with an increasingly regionalized world.70 Institutions such as ASEAN or the AIIB may grow in influence in particular subregions without necessarily threatening existing institutions or the interests of other states that have a stake in regional development and security. Given that processes of change and continuity occur simultaneously, Asia’s evolving regional architecture in the upcoming decade will unlikely gravitate toward an ideal-type Chinese dominated order or the return to a US-led regional order akin to the first quarter century of post–Cold War Asia. Instead, the growing complex patchwork will likely push the region toward something in between a modified liberal order and an order renegotiated with other regional actors, most notably China. Although the US and China may set the parameters of Asian order, any renegotiation would require buy-in and legitimacy from other major and secondary powers.71

How the Complex Patchwork Affects Regional Governance Regime Complexity The unfolding regional architecture sheds some light into Asia’s future order. However, much of this discussion is abstract, theoretical, and speculative. It may therefore be more helpful to ask how institutional architecture affects regional governance. More specifically, to what extent do overlapping institutions and the complex patchwork facilitate or hinder regional governance? As argued throughout this book, Asia’s regional architecture is characterized today by a mix of institutions which overlap or partially overlap in regards to their membership, function, and mandate (assuming that a clear mandate exists). The complex patchwork of institutions has grown to the extent that Asia, and particularly East Asia, now exhibits increasing regime complexity—that is, an “array of partially overlapping and nonhierarchical institutions governing a particular

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issue area” or a “loosely coupled set of specific regimes.”72 Numerous forums, summits, and institutions exist in Asia that address issues ranging from security to trade to sustainable development. I equate the complex patchwork in Asia to a form of regional regime (or institutional) complexity. The record on the impact and efficacy of regime complexity is mixed. Some highlight inefficiencies stemming from institutional redundancy. The potential for discord also exists with the presence of multiple institutions fostering competition, thus compromising solutions to regional governance.73 In contrast, others contend that the regime complex helps actors navigate across a range of divergent preferences, thus enabling states to achieve regional cooperation. Overlapping institutions permit flexibility across issues. For example, as Keohane and Victor note on climate change, different states may subscribe to different sets of agreements that elicit commitment (even if only minimal) to reducing greenhouse-gas emissions and otherwise would not have occurred under a single agreement or institution.74 Regime complexity also provides space for adaptability. Allowing for a variety of institutional options to flourish encourages different policy solutions to emerge. With no clear solution at the outset, some institutions will prove more effective than others, with states gravitating toward more effective institutions.75 What, then, are the implications of institutional layering and regime complexity in Asia? I argue that the complex patchwork provides some semblance of coordination and governance in the short to medium term. It also empowers middle powers and smaller powers to play a more active role in regional politics, mitigating some of the negative effects of great power politics. However, if the logic of competition begins to drive the institutional layering process, the complex patchwork carries the risk of reifying geopolitical divisions in the long run. I first highlight some of the positive benefits of the complex patchwork for Asia before turning to longer-term repercussions of institutional overlap and regime complexity.

Regional Governance In their contribution to a special issue on regime complexity, Alter and Meunier note that regime complexity “reduces the clarity of legal obligation by introducing overlapping sets of legal rules and jurisdictions governing an issue.”76 Although Asian institutions do not provide much in the way of legal obligations, in the absence of a clear hierarchy of institutions, they do create a structure of overlapping institutional frameworks, which leads to rule ambiguity or, perhaps in the absence of formal rules, “role” ambiguity. For instance, how does South Korea maintain good standing in its bilateral alliance relationship with the US while also

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playing an active role in exclusive regional institutions such as the APT and the TCS? How does Australia prioritize its commitment to institutions and agreements such as the EAS, TPP, and APEC? Do the rules of economic liberalization under the TPP override prevailing norms of cooperation set forth by the APT? Rule (or role) ambiguity and fragmentation may sound problematic from the standpoint of governance, but in the context of Asia (and East Asia in particular), such ambiguity may not be a bad thing. Lowering Cost and Barriers of Entry  To begin with, structural differences such as different regime type, contrasting political ideologies, and varying levels of economic development continue to foster different preferences among Asian actors. Historical animosity also runs deep perpetuating mistrust. In a hostile environment, however, rule ambiguity and flexibility may actually help draw actors into the institutional arena who otherwise might be reluctant to join institutions with clear commitment costs. China’s initial decision to participate in the ARF in the mid-1990s, an institution without any defined rules beyond its adherence to informality and noninterference, followed such logic.77 In a similar vein, the complex patchwork presents actors with a range of options that require few upfront participation costs. States therefore have something to gain and little to lose by joining regional forums and institutions. If policy makers feel that the sixteen-member EAS is too large to produce any meaningful action, they can direct greater attention and resources to the APT while still maintaining membership in both institutions. If states desire strengthening coordination on subregional issues, they can actively participate in ASEAN or TCS, respectively, while also taking part in the APT. States that feel that their interests are underrepresented, or seek to test new ideas for cooperation, can also build their own institutional niche in Asia with relative ease. South Korean efforts to organize the Northeast Asia Peace and Cooperation Initiative (NAPCI) and China’s call for a new Silk Road economically linking China to Central Asia represent such examples. Providing Small States Tools for Leverage  Additionally, the complex patchwork allows smaller states to veil their preferences within a network of layered institutions. By signing on to multiple institutions, actors are afforded greater strategic flexibility. While such narrow, instrumental behavior might be interpreted, if not criticized, as strategic hedging or strategic ambiguity,78 participation in multiple institutions enables actors to build wider policy networks. By engaging different actors in a range of regional policy dialogues, small actors may actually be contributing to regional governance. In the area of trade, it may be helpful that states such as Vietnam or Singapore participate in overlapping multilateral free

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trade negotiations such as the RCEP and TPP as regional actors search for a common path toward an Asia-Pacific economic community. Participation in multiple regional institutions has also allowed smaller states such as Singapore to punch above their weight by giving them additional voice in regional debates.79 Empowering Middle Powers Through Bridge-Building Networks  The complex patchwork also offers middle powers such as ASEAN, Australia, and South Korea a ­larger role in regional affairs. As Miles Kahler argues, middle powers in Asia play an active role in regional organizations.80 Treating the complex patchwork as a network of institutions, middle powers tend not only to exhibit more connections than other actors but also may serve as a critical bridge between actors who would otherwise remain unconnected. Middle powers are able to play this bridging role because they are generally seen as less threatening than larger powers. Unlike small or weak states, however, they still have the capacity and resources to host and facilitate regional institutions. The complex patchwork may therefore aid middle powers such as ASEAN, South Korea, or Australia in amplifying trust as they connect different clusters of actors seen as adversarial within a region.81 South Korea and Japan fall squarely within US-centered regional networks by virtue of their alliance membership. However, some experts have identified these two countries as middle powers given their ability to build pan–East Asian regional networks that include China but exclude the United States. Kim DaeJung’s East Asian Vision Group and Yukio Hatoyama’s East Asian Community are two such manifestations of pan–East Asian regionalism.82 Although interpreted as hedging in Washington policy circles, officials in Tokyo and Seoul argue that such regional initiatives should be viewed as complimentary rather than zero sum. South Korean policy makers made a similar point when invited by China to join the AIIB in 2014. Although Seoul ultimately did not attend the inaugural meeting of the AIIB (but subsequently joined the AIIB), some South Korean officials believed that their participation could have ensured representation of views more in line with Washington’s position regarding development assistance.83 Of course, what is good for middle and smaller powers may not necessarily be good for regional governance. However, crosscutting institutional linkages that bind different centers of East Asian and Asia-Pacific power may help create a dampening effect on conflict if such linkages promote outcomes such as economic growth and the provision of regional public goods.84 Small Group Environment  Regime complexity also generates “small group environments” which enable “face-to-face interactions” and develop “expectations, norms, shared goals, and differentiated roles for members.”85 As mentioned earlier, the complex patchwork increases the number of contact points, and thus

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­ pportunities, for state policy makers to interact. Large multilateral forums proo vide opportunities for smaller gatherings, which themselves can become institutionalized over time. The CJK Trilateral Summit developed in this manner, evolving out of a breakfast meeting at the ATP organized by the leaders of China, Japan, and South Korea. Other global and regional meetings such as APEC, EAS, or the G20 summit provide space for smaller groups, like trilateral security dialogues or important bilateral meetings, to take place on the sidelines. Repeated interaction with the same policy makers facilitates trust, builds pressure toward conciliatory gestures, and promotes out-of-the-box thinking.86

Caveats Institutions do not guarantee stability, and in the context of Asia, the lack of binding mechanisms limit credible commitment and rules based outcomes through institutions. However, participation in even weak institutions can generate certain expectations about state intentions and behavior in the region. For example, much has been made in the US and Asian press about the attendance or absence of US presidents at Asian regional summits. US presence at APEC, ARF, and the EAS is intended to signal US interest and commitment to the region. Additionally, membership in institutions builds expectations about how actors will (or at least should) interact with other states in the region, regardless of whether state actors project positive or negative standing in a given regional organization. This was true of Russian and especially US inclusion in the EAS in 2011. ASEAN members hoped US membership would raise the profile of the EAS while fostering greater regional institutional engagement from the United States. China’s membership in the ARF and APT in the 1990s also raised expectations about how a rising China would conduct itself in regional foreign policy. Even with those expectations unmet, Chinese membership in ASEAN-centered institutions have given smaller actors greater (normative) leverage in admonishing Beijing to comply with the terms of the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation on issues such as the South China Sea disputes. On trade issues, while the rise of multiple RTAs has created competition among major sponsors, the existence of the TPP, RCEP, and FTAAP has had the net effect of pushing actors to move forward on trade liberalization in Asia.87 In the absence of generalized trust, some scholars may see the proliferation of institutions as nothing more than an exercise in futility.88 This is particularly true if policy makers refuse to meet each time interstate relations crumble, as witnessed numerous times in South Korea–Japan relations or Japan-China relations. Yet some form of constructive communication is often better than no communica-

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tion. Overlapping regional institutions offer multiple points of interaction, helping keep communication channels open. For instance, despite the absence of CJK Trilateral Summits from 2013 to 2015, dialogue at the working and deputy levels persisted via trilateral mechanisms. Larger multilateral meetings such as APEC or the ARF also provide state leaders some political cover to meet informally on the sidelines, however awkward those meetings might appear to the public. On the whole, then, states thus far have benefited from the existence of partially nested, overlapping institutions. Institutional redundancies surely exist. However, some functional differentiation among regional institutions permits certain institutions to flourish without treading over the mandate of other institutions. Different regional initiatives—for instance, the ARF and APEC—may work toward similar core norms or goals. On the security front, US bilateral alliances remain dominant in the Asia-Pacific but are complemented by several multilateral security mechanisms, including the ARF and EAS. On economic issues, APEC has taken the lead in promoting trade liberalization. Meanwhile, policy makers continue to rely on the APT to coordinate and address regional financial issues. The ADB and AIIB both exist to support regional development and infrastructure across Asia. In a region reeling with historical problems, political sensitivities, and conflicting interests, overlapping and nested institutions may help states move toward a positive (cooperative) stable equilibrium. Each new institutional initiative may raise suspicion, especially institutions emanating from “untrustworthy” actors.89 But at the same time, overlapping institutions can facilitate communication and dialogue. The process is painfully slow, but dialogue and frequent interaction may be the only way to maintain a minimum basis of trust. The process of institution building is akin to building a campfire in the rain by rubbing sticks together. Eliciting even a small spark is painstaking and laborious work. Many potential flames will be snuffed out in the process. Yet without any guarantees, rubbing sticks may be the only hope that the night will end in the warmth of a campfire.

Potential Long-Term Setbacks To date, Asian actors have taken advantage of the growing complex patchwork in Asia. In the long run, however, increasing institutional overlap may become unwieldy. More institutions are not necessarily better, especially if they foster competition rather than cooperation. Furthermore, recent trends suggest that the ever-growing regime complex runs the risk of reifying regional divisions by perpetuating balance of power politics. I address these two interrelated problems here.

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Assessing the impact of regime complexity on global governance, Orsini, Morin, and Young note that regime complexes (and by extension institutional overlap) produce both opportunities and obstacles for cooperation. In determining whether regime complexes make it easier or harder to resolve regional problems, they contend that what matters is the “conflictual or synergetic nature” of links between institutions rather than the size of the complex itself.90 However, in an overcrowded institutional landscape, conflict and competition are likely to ensue if mandates overlap but membership does not.91 Additionally, a higher risk of fragmentation exists if states support different organizations.92 In such an environment, states are less likely to coordinate their efforts. Turf battles and repetitive efforts undermine the gains of different institutions.93 Although the complex patchwork and institutional overlap may help address regional coordination problems in the near term—particularly on lower-level issues such as natural disaster preparation or scientific cooperation—unless such gains can generate further trust to enable states to delegate greater authority to a few key institutions, the complex patchwork may instead promote gridlock. Asia’s initial post–Cold War architecture reflected institutional divisions generated by path-dependent processes. Cleavages were drawn across states and even among policy makers within the same state regarding levels of support for bilateral alliances in the post–Cold War period. Other cleavages were based on earlier institutional choices between an East Asian and an Asia-Pacific variant of regionalism. Institutional overlap has helped wash out some of these regional divisions over time as states have become more “networked” within Asia’s complex patchwork. However, in the past decade, core states—most notably the US and China, and to a lesser extent Japan—have supported different organizations espousing different goals and values. Asia’s institutional development has recently taken a different turn with major powers—most notably China and Russia— building institutions that presumably seek to “challenge the rules, practices, or missions” of existing organizations.94 Although China’s and Russia’s institutional domains reach subregions of Asia not fully explored in this book (namely Central Asia and South Asia), it is possible to speculate that by creating competitive regimes, actors may actually institutionalize geopolitical divisions.95 In such cases, regime complexity will unfortunately create more obstacles than opportunities for regional governance across Asia. In short, the complex patchwork benefits regional actors by expanding opportunities for policy coordination on a range of issues, facilitating at least minimal levels of governance. The idea is for actors to consolidate such gains incrementally as institutions build greater confidence and trust in addressing existing and new regional problems. However, cycles of institutional overlap, particularly if moti-

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vated by institutional competition, may in the long run reify geopolitical divisions, ultimately undermining governance.

Moving Forward What does the institutional layering model tell us about Asia’s regional architecture moving forward? At least three observations about the evolving regional architecture can be drawn from the historical institutional framework offered in this book. First, processes of continuity and change to Asia’s regional architecture are occurring simultaneously. Institutions that provide important benefits to multiple states and draw strength from a large number of actors with vested interests in their survival often manage to persist. US-centered bilateral alliances (or the huband-spokes system) and ASEAN represent such institutions. Vested interests in these institutions are beyond material in nature. Bilateral alliances and ASEANbased organizations reflect a strong ideational or normative consensus among actors making these institutions both durable and flexible (as outlined in proposition 3 of Chapter 1). In addition to continuity, however, endogenous change through institutional layering has also taken place. Asia’s regional architecture has advanced significantly since the end of the Cold War when the region remained severely underinstitutionalized. Much of this change has happened incrementally with new organizations, forums, and institutions added to existing ones. Today we see this layering process unfold in the network of intra-Asian security ties derived from the US-centered hub-and-spokes system or in the development of Chinese multilateral and bilateral economic initiatives. Second, China’s westward focus is consistent with historical institutional arguments and the institutional layering model. With the exception of India, the weakness of actors and dearth of regional institutions in South and Central Asia means few veto players would challenge Chinese-led initiatives, enabling Beijing to develop new institutions with less resistance. In contrast, despite China’s significant influence in East Asia, historical institutional patterns would suggest that China have a much harder time making inroads in Southeast or Northeast Asia given the already-crowded institutional space of ASEAN-centered institutions and the network of US-based bilateral alliances and mini-laterals. The US has already responded to this westward shift by emphasizing the Indo-Pacific region and resurrecting mini-lateral meetings such as the Australia-India-JapanUS quadrilateral. However, if institutional choices earlier in time lead to path-­ dependent processes, the US and its allies may have their work cut out for them in Central and South Asia unless they choose to work to some extent with, and not just against, Chinese-led institutions.

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Third, Asia’s architecture continues to expand via multiple iterations of institutional layering and overlap. Constrained to some degree by the existing institutional landscape and veto players opposed to new, potentially competing ­institutions, actors cannot simply replace prior organizations with similar membership and functions. The informal nature of institutions in Asia, however, makes it relatively easy to layer new organizations on top of existing ones. In the case of the AIIB, China managed to ease concerns and avoid early road blocks by adopting the lending rules of existing multilateral banks and by cofinancing projects with the ADB and World Bank.

Conclusion Writing in Global Asia in 2016, Amitav Acharya noted that the “security architecture of the Asia-Pacific . . . that emerged at the end of the Cold War has eroded and is in serious need of a rethink.”96 Acharya suggests a reconceptualization of the architecture which accounts for security pluralism—the idea that security revolves around “multiple conditions and approaches” including a healthy balance of power, economic interdependence, norms and institutions, and converging ideology.97 Without denying the importance of such factors, or the ability of policy makers to cultivate and manage the relationships between different drivers of security pluralism, an institutional layering model suggests that regional architecture is significantly shaped by earlier institutional choices. Existing institutions present opportunities and constraints to actors. Thus, the Trump government, despite professing an “America first” strategy and signaling reduced commitments abroad, has continued to support US bilateral alliances and offered at least a semblance of support for multilateral processes. Likewise, Xi Jinping’s “Chinese dream” will still have to contend and work with the network of existing bilateral, trilateral, and multilateral institutions in East Asia, even as it pursues new network ties to the south and west. The regional architecture, and by extension regional order, has not eroded so much as it has grown overly complex, drifting and expanding through multiple iterations of layering. Assuming that regional order is not defined by the balance of power alone, Asia’s growing regime complexity makes it harder to define the future regional order under a single power. More likely, Asian order will reflect a negotiated or shared order among major and, to a lesser extent, secondary powers. The implications of regime complexity on governance are also complicated, with competing and complementary national interests reflected in various institutions. Pessimists see the regional architecture fragmenting into rival regionalisms marked by intensifying geopolitical competition. In contrast, this chapter

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provided greater optimism in Asia’s complex patchwork of institutions and its potential for enhancing regional governance. It enables more states to join institutions. It increases access points for interaction and communication, which become important when bilateral relations are frayed. It also provides small and middle powers additional tools for leverage and bridge building, and enables major powers to wield greater influence in various subregions. Certainly other variables such as the balance of power, domestic politics, and ideology also play a role in Asian order and regional governance. But order, seen as the rules, norms, and organizing principles regulating interstate relations, is constituted in a region’s institutional architecture. Any understanding of Asia’s future must therefore account for its evolving regional architecture.

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Conclusion Theory, Policy, and the Relevance of Historical Institutionalism in Asia

This book adopted a historical institutional framework to explain the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture, with a particular emphasis on East Asia. It argued that processes of continuity and change have occurred simultaneously, transforming an underinstitutionalized region into a complex patchwork of overlapping institutions. From a rationalist perspective, overlapping regionalism is puzzling, as it encourages redundancies, inefficiency, and even competition. One would be hard-pressed to argue that policy makers initially envisioned, much less intentionally designed, such a complex structure to promote peace, stability, and governance. Yet the complex patchwork is the product of actors working within the constraints of their environment to forge new institutions on top of or alongside existing ones. One set of institutional structures that has outlived all others in the postwar Asian regional order is the US-anchored bilateral alliance system. As argued in Chapter 1, bilateral alliances, undergirded by a strong domestic consensus, have maintained their flexibility and robustness even as threat levels have varied across decades. As demonstrated throughout the book, US bilateral alliances have and will continue to remain a key part of the region’s complex institutional architecture. Moreover, we are witnessing a web of interconnected institutions and security networks that revolve around the core hub-and-spokes system. The new network of intra-Asian security ties and the development of trilateral relationships are a good example of this growing network. ASEAN also functions as another core institution of the postwar regional architecture, helping spawn a web of ASEAN-family institutions. Once established, these early institutions developed

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self-reinforcing mechanisms and positive feedback loops, making them more difficult to replace or overturn. Of course, the regional architecture is not static. Change in the external environment, triggered by financial crises or new security threats, may motivate regional actors to establish new forums and institutions. However, given actors’ resistance to altering preexisting institutions, change tends to occur incrementally, with new organizations, forums, and institutions layered on top of existing ones. As observed in examples such as APEC, EAS, and the AIIB, policy makers often adopt the institutional characteristics and practices of existing institutions as they deliberate and negotiate with other actors. The recent rapid pace of Asian institution building, particularly from China, may suggest institutional balancing as a key motive driving the complex patchwork. Different institutional preferences regarding regional security, trade, and development attest to ongoing competition for regional influence. Realist motives do inform actors as they determine which institutions to establish, support, or reject. However, this does not negate the fact that even “rival” institutions overlap in either membership or purpose (or both). This is true of the TPP and RCEP on trade, the EAS and the CICA on security, and the ADB and the AIIB on development. In this sense, institutional layering subsumes (or transcends) realist motives. The debate between institutional layering and institutional balancing is less about process, then, and more about normative ends: that is, whether overlapping regionalism and regime complexity is good for governance and order. Although the record is not yet out, in the preceding chapter I suggested that the complex patchwork could encourage positive-sum rather than zero-sum solutions to regional problems. If the alternative to regime complexity is an underinstitutionalized Asia or a region filled with nonoverlapping institutions demarcated along rigid lines of geopolitical interests, I would place my bet on the complex patchwork.

Lessons from Historical Institutionalism in Asia Advancing Historical Institutionalism in International Relations Theory By adopting a historical institutional approach, this book has eschewed the use of traditional international relations (IR) paradigms in studying Asian international relations. As discussed in Chapter 1, much of the earlier debate regarding Asian regionalism in the IR literature has been framed within the debate of realistrationalists versus constructivists. Historical institutionalism allows for IR scholars to transcend realist, liberal, and constructivist perspectives and instead focus more narrowly on issues (or problems and questions) related to political development.

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As explored in this book, why and how did Asia’s regional architecture develop into a mishmash of overlapping regional institutions, and what significance might this bear on regional order and cooperation? The use of historical institutionalism does not negate the relevance of more traditional paradigms in the study of Asian regional architecture. In fact, several of the propositions informing the institutional layering framework rest on existing IR theories. Thus, an alliance consensus is initially formed by shared threats (realism), but it coalesces as institutionalization (liberal institutionalism) and collective beliefs (constructivism) about the alliance further entrench bilateral alliances within the regional architecture.1 In this regard, historical institutionalism supports the agenda of analytic eclecticism: this includes its “pragmatist ethos; its open-ended approach to identifying problems; and its expansive understanding of causal mechanisms and their complex interactions in diverse contexts.”2 Historical institutionalism also provides added discipline and rigor when examining long-term processes of change and continuity. It requires analysts to trace and connect a sequence of events, understanding how institutional structures and the choice of actors interact at each step. As David Lake states, “‘Good’ theory thus links the entire chain of action in a way that is consistent in its assumptions. The full chain is often left implicit, as implied in the call for greater attention to micro-foundations or causal mechanisms.”3 For IR scholars, this often means drawing greater attention to the relationship between international structures and domestic agency. For example, turning to propositions 1–3 in Chapter 1, the alliance consensus derives from domestic actors’ collective understanding of US bilateral alliances. Likewise, in proposition 4, the process of institutional layering occurs precisely because one set of domestic actors decides to circumvent, placate, or ignore the resistance of another set of actors in the establishment of new regional organizations. Critics of historical institutionalism may argue that the approach is overly deterministic given its strong association with path dependence. Yet in the study of regional architecture, and in debates regarding the establishment of institutions such as APEC or the EAS (or the nonadoption of institutions such as the EAEG), historical institutionalism uncovers a great deal of contingency. As articulated in proposition 6, actors ultimately make institutional choices, even if their options are constrained or shaped by the institutional environment. Of course, historical institutionalism has other analytical limitations and potential weaknesses. For instance, historical institutionalism does better in explaining and describing the past than in predicting future action, even if change takes place endogenously rather than exogenously. As with other contextually rich modes of analysis, researchers must therefore make trade-offs between attention

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to microfoundations and mechanisms on the one hand, and parsimonious theorizing on the other. Causality is also less clear in historical institutionalism, especially because attention to temporal context does not preclude other variables from explaining outcomes. One might find power, status, or desire for institutional relevance as key drivers behind regional institution building. Such arguments are not necessarily incompatible with institutional layering processes and the complex patchwork.4 Indeed, other scholars have commented on the overlapping nature of regional institutions in Asia and elsewhere, or noted the interplay between bilateral and multilateral institutions without resorting to historical institutionalism.5 Hence, exploration of continuity and change in the regional architecture, and the rise of regime complexity in Asia offered by historical institutionalism, may not strike all readers as particularly novel. Yet even though traditional approaches or some combination of rationalist-constructivist perspectives might lead us to the same outcome of the complex patchwork (or “complex latticework,” as described more recently by T. J. Pempel),6 few arguments take seriously the temporal dimension of politics, the relationship between structure and agency, and the microfoundations of cause and effect in a single framework. Moreover, as Van Jackson states in his review of East Asian security debates, historical institutionalism presents “a structured way to subsume or frame” different variables of interest.7 Despite limitations and trade-offs, then, historical institutionalism remains poised to gain greater traction in IR as scholars continue to look toward middlerange theories to unpack causal complexity and address real-world puzzles with implications for policy and practice.8

Limitations in Rational Institutional Design As revealed in the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture, the idea that institutions or the regional architecture can be rationally planned needs qualification. Rationalist explanations behind institutional choice and design are straightforward. Focusing on the origins of institution, the choice of actors (or a group of actors) is premised on their preferences and the benefits accrued by particular institutional arrangements. Institutions exist so long as they serve a function and meet the needs of actors. Here, “the anticipated effects of institutions” rather than their actual effects are seen as important.9 The rationalist approach to institutions becomes problematic, however, as the focus shifts away from institutional origin to the more complex, dynamic issue of institutional development. Institutions may persist or change for reasons beyond simple preferences. The design of institutions may lead to unanticipated or unintended consequences. Unpredictable shifts in the external environment may also

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influence the trajectory of institutions beyond the control of their designers.10 Policy makers who seek to create new institutions or significantly reform existing ones must confront the realities of institutional resilience. Normative, ideational, and cognitive biases may perpetuate or preclude certain institutions (and their design) over others. Thus, it becomes much harder to evaluate and theoretically justify the rational design of institutions when a mismatch exists between original intentions and the actual outcome (and effects) of institutions. At the macroinstitutional level, the ability of policy makers to directly shape the regional architecture diminishes as system-level effects begin to shape actors’ decisions and wash out the intended desire of particular institutions in advancing regional goals. For instance, Chinese policy makers created the AIIB with the purpose of financing infrastructure projects in Asia. However, situated in a wider institutional context, it is unclear how the AIIB’s mandate will overlap or conflict with the mission of other existing development and financial institutions such as the ADB, or broader regional institutions such as the EAS. In other words, there may be a gap between the intended and actual effects of the AIIB for regional development, throwing a wrench into the AIIB’s initial design and Beijing’s plans for the region. Such challenges to rational choice are not meant to discourage academics and policy makers from weighing carefully issues of institutional design and their effectiveness. Particular institutional designs may be effective or better suited in some contexts but not in others. Thus, it behooves researchers and policy analysts to understand the implications of institutional design. The ADB’s three-part study on Asian regional integration—a collaborative effort among practitioners and scholars—provides such analysis. It provides an excellent overview of regional institutions, institutional design issues, and policy recommendations to aid regional architects in their quest to build an Asian economic community.11 Notably, the ADB’s final study, Institutions for Regional Integration, adopts several insights from historical institutional research including feedback loops, positive reinforcement, and the relevance of historical (and cultural) context. Nevertheless, the study is still primarily guided by a rationalist understanding of institutions. As the authors state, a “regional institutions’ potential scope is set, at least initially, by a region’s characteristics and the dynamics of regional integration. Given those initial conditions, however, an institutions’ design determines [its] effectiveness.”12 The findings in this book, however, recommend greater caution when thinking about both the immediate and long-term effects of institutional design. In particular, policy makers should be more cognizant of the distinction between the design of micro-level institutions and their potential effect on the macro-level regional architecture. Policy makers must be open minded and prepared that the

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regional architecture may evolve (or devolve in some instances) in directions not initially anticipated, and they must therefore build flexibility into their policy planning. This is particularly true during a period of increasing institutional overlap and growing regime complexity.

Change and Continuity Social scientists and policy makers are naturally inclined to examine change rather than continuity. Change is exciting. We want to know where our world is heading. As such, researchers have a tendency to seek out mechanisms of change before ones of continuity. The bias toward social and political change is also built into our research methodologies in the framing of positive and negative cases. The phenomenon of interest, often marked by some change in the status quo, is generally found in positive cases. Researchers tend to care more about instances of democratic transitions, the onset of wars, the rise of revolutions, or the steps to cooperation rather than about nondemocratic transitions, nonwars, nonrevolutions, and noncooperation (although such negative cases may still be interesting in their own right).13 The study of institutions is perhaps more conducive to exploring themes of continuity than other areas of research. After all, institutions by nature are meant to be stable. However, when studying the evolution of institutions, the object of study is by default about change. As discussed in the early chapters of this book, exogenous shocks are often treated as the catalyst for significant change. Observing shocks and other critical junctures are certainly important in the study of institutional change. But only in rare instances do such shocks uproot an entire system. There is always some degree of meaningful continuity that enables the past to influence the present and future. Depending on the research or policy question at hand, scholars and policy makers will choose to focus their attention toward mechanisms of change or continuity. But even if the primary question revolves around issues of change, as this book demonstrates, mechanisms of continuity should also be explored because they affect the pace and parameters of change.

Policy Insights into Regional Architecture The trajectory of Asia’s institutional architecture has shifted from a regional system dominated by US bilateral alliances to the current complex patchwork of bilateral, trilateral, and multilateral institutions arising from the end of the Cold War. For the time being, the overlapping nature of institutions helps sustain a

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certain level of dynamism to Asian regionalism, enabling actors to participate in a wide range of regional activities. In the long run, however, Asian policy makers will need to seriously consider how they might steer regional institutions in a manner that will help narrow rather than widen geopolitical fault lines. Preventing institutional layering from succumbing to the logic of institutional balancing is critical here. The idea that the regional architecture can be “steered” in a particular direction may appear to contradict the book’s historical institutional argument that history and institutions do much of the shaping. This is the wrong lesson, however, for policy makers. A better application of the historical institutional framework is if regional architects remain cognizant of the constraints imposed by earlier choices and institutional realities, and instead build constituencies that shape and fold existing institutional preferences into new ones. Although a region’s institutional architecture exists beyond any actors’ intentional design, policy makers may still behave strategically, taking advantage of partially overlapping, nested institutions.14 To make an analogy with the game of poker, all players are dealt a particular hand. However, players can still adopt a forward-looking strategy and choose how to play their cards. Players still make their own choices, but the choices are bounded and shaped by prior moves and the current situational context. It is at this intersection of structure and agency that historical institutional arguments best explain how institutional outcomes might deviate from some Pareto-optimal alternative derived solely from actors’ preferences. Even rationalists will concede that “international regimes often come about not through deliberate decision-making . . . but rather emerge as a result of codifying informal rights and rules that have evolved over time. . . . [T]hey emerge in path-dependent, historically shaped ways.”15 To avoid both institutional redundancy and competition, policy makers must elevate some institutions over others, eventually creating a form of institutional hierarchy within the regional architecture. This is already happening to some extent. Leaders have treated larger institutional bodies such as ASEAN, APEC, and the EAS as core regional institutions by offering them greater political standing. The agendas of regionwide institutions have been supplemented by subregional institutions and forums. Underneath these institutions, smaller mini-laterals, trilateral meetings, and informal dialogues facilitate transparency and communication in addressing issues of regional governance. These forums need not persist indefinitely, however. As such, policy makers should trim or consolidate institutions that have outlived their purposes. Other institutional bodies may eventually be subsumed into organizations situated higher up the hierarchical ladder. For instance, as Asia-Pacific countries continue to discuss multilateral trade options

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for the region through the TPP, RCEP, and the FTAAP, APEC could play a bigger role in steering diverse countries toward acceptable levels of economic liberalization. Policy makers must strive to strengthen key regional institutions. However, across-the-board formalization is not the answer. For instance, states may work to establish binding rules in the area of financial cooperation through the multilateralization of the APT’s Chiang Mai Initiative.16 Some US policy makers have tried to elevate the EAS as a regional forum worth strengthening as a way of bridging economic and security issues in the Asia-Pacific. The idea is not to replace the “ASEAN way” in favor of greater legalization and formal institutional structures. As discussed earlier, rule ambiguity has its benefits. What I do suggest, however, is encouraging a hybridization of Asian and Western institutional norms to support both formal and informal institutions within a region’s institutional architecture.17 This may include institutions that operate more formally, particularly if they are situated higher up the ladder of institutional hierarchy; institutions that operate more informally (especially at the lower end of the ladder); and institutions that exist between formality and informality. What is currently lacking in Asia’s regional architecture are institutions in the first category. At the same time, policy makers should cultivate (and consolidate) mini-laterals and other informal forums and dialogues. Institutions at the lower rungs of the hierarchy would continue to provide actors multiple channels for facilitating coordination and action on specific areas of governance ranging from sustainable development to disaster response to security crisis management. They might also be used to generate new and innovative ideas, linking formal and informal institutions in creative ways to build trust and resolve collective action problems.

After the Strategic Rebalance and Beyond America First Staying the Course Earlier this decade, much of the chatter in Washington regarding Asian policy revolved around the strategic rebalance to Asia and what US commitment to the region meant in practice. The rebalance reflected a multidimensional policy initiative with a military, economic, and diplomatic component.18 More broadly, the rebalance sought to establish a stable security environment situated in a liberal political and economic order. For the Obama administration, this meant reinvigorating bilateral security alliances, promoting diplomatic and economic engagement with old and new partners, and participating in regional institutions. The complex patchwork in many respects complemented the rebalancing strategy.

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Although the “strategic rebalance” no longer remains a part of the policy lexicon in the Trump government, many of the same questions the Obama administration confronted on Asia policy remain relevant in the era of “America first.” Can the US sustain the costs of a major East Asian presence in an era of tight budgets and fiscal restraint, and more important, does the US have the political will to do so? Does Asia merit more importance than other regions in the world, particularly the Middle East? Is it necessary to maintain a large military presence in Asia in the absence of any large-scale conflict? Does the US have a viable alternative economic strategy in Asia outside of the TPP? Where does Asia fit in terms of American grand strategy?19 There is deep concern in some Asian capitals, and in certain quarters in Washington, over whether the US is disengaging from the region. As argued in Chapter 6, thus far, the actions of the Trump administration, with the major exception of trade and the TPP, do not suggest a major break from past US policy on Asia. The US intends to remain a significant player in the region, if not necessarily through the same means conducted by the Obama government. In more than a dozen conferences, roundtables, and briefings pertaining to US policy in Asia that I attended in Washington between 2014 and 2018, senior government officials and foreign policy experts repeatedly emphasized the relevance of Asia to US foreign policy. The Council on Foreign Relations’ 2018 Preventative Priorities Survey, based on input from approximately four hundred US foreign policy officials and experts, included three contingencies in Asia (more than any other region) having a “high impact” on US interests.20 A Chicago Council on Global Affairs survey of the US-Japan alliance at the beginning of the Trump government, and several surveys coinciding with the second term of the Obama administration, indicated strong support for bilateral alliances in Asia and maintaining an overseas US military presence.21 Given the often bipartisan support of traditional US alliances, I assume that levels of public support still remain high. The narrative of rebalance may have outlived its strategic purpose if the US is already sufficiently committed to the region. If the first half of the 2010s was spent reorienting US policies toward Asia, and if we assume that Asia remains a high priority today, then an “America first” approach needs to recognize the importance in staying the course in Asia. There is too much at stake strategically and economically in a region populated by 60 percent of the world and 25 percent of global economic output to disengage from the region.22 Staying the course means constructing a long-term strategic vision for the United States in Asia. Interestingly, Trump’s National Security Strategy (NSS) referred to the Asia-Pacific as the “Indo-Pacific” region and placed it above all other regions in the section outlining US regional strategy.23 The NSS also in-

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cluded a separate section on South and Central Asia, a region (or subregion) not often addressed (at least not significantly) in major national security doctrine. The fact that the Trump government listed the Indo-Pacific region at the top of its list may indicate at the very least (and without reading too much into the text),24 that Asia is at or near the front of Trump’s foreign policy and security strategy. And although much of the section on South and Central Asia is dedicated to addressing ongoing problems in Pakistan and Afghanistan, the mere inclusion of this underappreciated region, together with the renaming of Asia as “Indo-Pacific,” does suggest greater cognizance on the part of US policy makers of a westward shift taking place on the strategic game board. Doubling down on this new strategic narrative, the Pentagon renamed the US Pacific Command to the US Indo-Pacific Command in May 2018. The following week, Secretary of Defense Mattis evoked the term Indo-Pacific no fewer than twenty-six times during his remarks at the 2018 Shangri-La Dialogue. According to Mattis, a “free and open Indo-Pacific region” signified increased attention to maritime space and order; improved military interoperability among networked allies; strengthened rule of law, civil society, and governance; and greater private sector-led economic development.25

Strategy and Regional Architecture The key to stability and long-term “success” in Asia is building a regional architecture that invites numerous states to claim a stake in Asia’s future. This is in contrast to what other US policy makers see as a recipe for success in Asia: getting US-China relations right. That is, if we somehow figure out how to manage China’s rise in a fashion that elicits greater cooperation, other pieces of the regional puzzle will fall into place. This is wrongheaded and underestimates the complexity of regional relationships. The policy implications of this book also contradict the Trump administration’s strategic outlook on Asia as outlined in the NSS. At least from his rhetoric, it is fairly clear that Trump sees the world in mostly competitive, zero-sum terms. The first sentence under the Indo-Pacific heading of the NSS reads “A geopolitical competition between free and repressive visions of world order is taking place in the Indo-Pacific region.” Below that, the first substantive paragraph lists a string of criticisms against China—its threats, geopolitical aims for domination, and attempts to limit US access. However, a fixation on US-Sino relations runs the risk of implementing strategies too heavily oriented toward balance-of-power politics. In Washington, this often means a return to bilateral alliances as the solution to maintaining US influence and interests in Asia. My critique is not just aimed against Washington. From Beijing, any overtures indicating greater US involvement in the region,

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even if framed in purely defensive terms, are interpreted as signs of containment directed against China.26 US-Sino relations certainly have an outsized impact on other regional relationships. However, the complexity of Asian international relations requires a more nuanced approach that not only includes China as a major part of the equation but also draws closer cooperation with other countries and regional organizations in Asia. In that respect, the strategic rebalance has offered a good first step in strengthening Washington’s hand in Asia. It has been less successful, however, in persuading China to become a more integral part of the existing architecture. The central message for US policy makers is to look past a zero-sum framework and continue building and supporting the regional architecture in ways that reinforce but also look beyond its bilateral alliances. In the early 1990s, US policy makers worried whether regional institutions would challenge US alliances. Perhaps twenty-first-century institutions in East Asia and the Asia-Pacific may compete with or even diminish the role of bilateral alliances. But based on a historical institutional framework, policy makers need not fear that alliance structures will disappear anytime soon. Bilateral alliances have been resilient as actors periodically assess and recalibrate their terms. Bilateral alliances provide not only a material basis for regional order but also a normative basis as actors continue to legitimate and support the US presence in Asia. Moreover, even if the hub-andspokes system becomes less important for regional order in the future, the alliance itself is likely to be manifest in new and different ways. We are already seeing this through the formation of trilateral strategic dialogues among US alliance partners and the growth of intra-Asian alliance networks. Moreover, for those who see Asia’s regional order largely defined by US-Sino relations, the idea that China can be coerced into playing by a certain set of (liberal) rules by tightening bilateral alliances runs too high a risk of triggering an unnecessary and unwanted security dilemma between the two powers. Beijing tends to perceive any strengthening of US alliances as a zero-sum strategy directed squarely against its rising power. However, in the event that China begins to flout existing international rules and norms, beyond flexing US alliances (which is usually the first reaction), an indirect means of applying pressure could include greater US support for multilateral institutions and regional institutional frameworks. Regional institutions may generate “peer pressure” on China to take part in multilateral initiatives. A key question is whether the complex patchwork of regional institutions can underpin a liberal hegemonic order and also satisfy Xi Jinping’s vision of Asian regional order. China may respond by building its own institutional initiatives for the region, as discussed in Chapter 6. Although some may be worried that China seeks to

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build institutions that provide an alternative to the liberal institutional order, it is more likely that such an order will intersect (or perhaps run parallel to) rather than directly compete with existing regional and global institutions. In other words, the “China problem,” as presented by those actors distrustful of China, may be better addressed through various regional institutional frameworks. In some respects, China’s own institution-building efforts may even be encouraged if it means China becoming a bigger stakeholder in regional governance issues. Finally, the US cannot address all problems or put out every regional fire on its own. The US is already overextended in global affairs. Unsurprisingly, Washington has been more adamant the past decade in pushing its allies to contribute more not only to their own defense but also to regional and global governance more generally. To continue moving in this direction, the US should ensure it places its mark on the evolving regional architecture. The US can do so by extending its own influence via institutions.27 Other states, most notably China and those within ASEAN, may be wary of US influence encroaching on national interests, or undermining ASEAN’s driving role behind regional institution building. The US need not co-opt other states on their own institutional turf. However, the US can and should find ways to express its interest in the region and exercise leadership through bilateral and multilateral channels.28 In an age of networked politics, regional order rests not only on the balance of power but increasingly on the web of relational ties that both underpin and reflect the material and normative (or social) basis of regional order. Asia’s regional architecture will continue to evolve. It is my hope that the ongoing process of institutional change and continuity will foster more opportunities for trust rather than mistrust, eventually bringing the region to a better place.

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Abbreviations

ABMI ACSA ADB ADMM AFC AFP AFTA AIIB ANZUS APEC APT ARF ASA ASEAN ASEM ASPC AUSMIN BRI CEPEA CFR CIA

Asian Bond Market Initiative Acquisition and Cross-Servicing Agreement Asian Development Bank ASEAN Defense Ministers Meeting Asian Financial Crisis Armed Forces of the Philippines ASEAN Free Trade Area Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank Australia, New Zealand, United States Security Treaty Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation ASEAN Plus Three ASEAN Regional Forum Association of Southeast Asia Association of Southeast Asian Nations Asia-Europe Meeting Asia Pacific Sphere of Cooperation Australia-United States Ministerial Consultations Belt and Road Initiative Comprehensive Economic Partnership for East Asia Council on Foreign Relations Central Intelligence Agency

186

CICA

Abbreviations

 onference on Interaction and Confidence Building MeaC sures in Asia CJK China, Japan, South Korea CMI Chiang Mai Initiative CPTPP Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership CSCA Conference on Security and Cooperation in Asia CSCE Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe DFAT Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (Australia) DPRK Democratic People’s Republic of Korea EAEG East Asian Economic Group EAFTA East Asia Free Trade Agreement EAS East Asia Summit EASG East Asian Study Group EASR East Asian Strategic Review EAVG East Asian Vision Group EDCA Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement FOTA Future of the Alliance Talks FRUS Foreign Relations of the United States FTA Free Trade Agreement FTAAP Free Trade Area of the Asia-Pacific GATT General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade HI Historical Institutionalism ILO International Labor Organization IMF International Monetary Fund IR International Relations ISR Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance JCS Joint Chiefs of Staff JDA Japanese Defense Agency JETRO Japan External Trade Organization LDP Liberal Democratic Party MAAG Military Assistance Advisory Group MAPHILINDO Malaya, Philippines, Indonesia MITI Ministry of International Trade and Industry ( Japan) MLSA Mutual Logistics Support Agreement MOFA Ministry of Foreign Affairs NAFTA North American Free Trade Agreement NAPCI Northeast Asia Peace and Cooperation Initiative

Abbreviations

NATO NDPO NSL OECD OPCON OPTAD OSCE P4 PACT PAFTAD PBEC PECC PMC PSI PTA RCEP ROC ROK RTA RTG SACO SCO SDC SDF SEATO SNU SPT TAC TCOG TCS/ TS TPP TPSEPA TSD TSD UAJ UNASUR UNESCAP

187

North Atlantic Treaty Organization National Defense Program Outline National Security Laws Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development Operational Control Organization for Pacific Trade and Development Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe Pacific-4 Philippine American Cooperation Talks Pacific Trade and Development Conference Pacific Basin Economic Council Pacific Economic Cooperation Conference ASEAN Post-Ministerial Conference Proliferation Security Initiative Preferential Treaty Arrangements Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership Republic of China Republic of Korea Regional Trade Agreements Royal Thai Government Special Action Committee on Okinawa Shanghai Cooperation Organization Subcommittee for Defense Cooperation Japanese Self-Defense Force Southeast Asia Treaty Organization Seoul National University Six-Party Talks Treaty of Amity and Cooperation Trilateral Coordination and Oversight Group Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat/ Trilateral Summit Trans-Pacific Partnership Trans-Pacific Strategic Economic Partnership Agreement Trilateral Strategic Dialogue Trilateral Strategic Dialogue US-Australia-Japan Union of South American Nations United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific

188

USAID USAMGIK USFK USIA VFA WTO

Abbreviations

United States Agency for International Development United States Army Military Government in Korea United States Forces Korea United States Information Agency Visiting Forces Agreement World Trade Organization

Notes

preface 1.  G. John Ikenberry, After Victory: Institutions, Strategic Restraint and the Rebuilding of Order after Major Wars (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001), 70.

chapter 1  Asia’s Regional Architecture 1.  Richard Haas, “Which Asian Century?” Project Syndicate, October 28, 2013, https://​www​.project​-syndicate​.org/​commentary/​r ichard​-n​-​-haass​-on​-asia​-s​-need​-for​ -reconciliation​-and​-integration​?barrier​=​accesspaylog. 2.  Kent E. Calder and Min Ye, The Making of Northeast Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010); T. J. Pempel, Remapping East Asia: The Construction of a Region (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005); Peter J. Katzenstein and Takashi Shiraishi, Network Power: Japan and Asia (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997); Ellen L. Frost, Asia’s New Regionalism (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2008). 3.  Robert O. Keohane, After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World Political Economy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 8; Lisa Martin and Beth Simmons, “Theories and Empirical Studies of International Institutions,” International Organization 52, no. 4 (1998): 729 –58. 4.  Asian Development Bank, Institutions for Regional Integration Toward an Asian Economic Community (Mandaluyong City, Philippines: Asian Development Bank, 2010), 5. 5.  East Asia here is defined as including Northeast Asia (primarily China, Japan, and Korea) and the ten Southeast Asian countries. In the first two decades after the Cold War, much of the debate over Asian regionalism and Asian institution building centered on East Asia, thus justifying my bias toward this particular area of Asia. More recently, however, South and Central Asia have taken on greater significance in discussions regarding Asian regional architecture, a point I turn to in Chapter 6. Except when referring to East Asia

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proper, I generally stick to the term Asia rather than East Asia to indicate the broader application of the historical institutional framework to the region. Admittedly, readers may find some analytical slippage in my use of Asia given the empirical bias toward East Asia. Then again, Asia itself is a fuzzy construct. For further discussion on the concept of a region, see Peter J. Katzenstein, A World of Regions: Asia and Europe in the American Imperium (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005), 10; Amitav Acharya, “The Idea of Asia,” Asia Policy 9, no. 1 (2010): 32 –39. 6.  Mini-laterals are diplomatic forums addressing a specific topic with a limited number of participants. 7.  The reasons for analytically separating bilateralism and multilateralism go beyond the obvious structural differences. Currently, a disjuncture exists between advocates of Asian regionalism who highlight political economic trends and analysts who observe competition for power and rivalries in Asia. For exceptions, however, see Avery Goldstein and Edward D. Mansfield, The Nexus of Economics, Security, and International Relations in East Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2012); T. J. Pempel, The Economy-Security Nexus in Northeast Asia (New York: Routledge, 2012). 8.  Karen J. Alter and Sophie Meunier, “The Politics of International Regime Complexity,” Perspectives on Politics 7, no. 01 (2009): 13 –24; Stephanie Hofmann, “Overlapping Institutions in the Realm of International Security: The Case of NATO and ESDP,” Perspectives on Politics 7, no. 1 (2009); Detlef Nolte, “Costs and Benefits of Overlapping Regional Organizations in Latin America: The Case of the OAS and UNASUR,” Latin American Politics and Society 60, no. 1 (2018): 128 –53; Katharina Coleman, “Innovations in ‘African Solutions to African Problems’: The Evolving Practice of Regional Peacekeeping in Sub-Saharan Africa,” Journal of Modern African Studies 49, no. 4 (2011): 517–45. 9.  Orfeo Fioretos, Tulia G. Falleti, and Adam Sheingate, The Oxford Handbook of Historical Institutionalism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), 3. 10.  Kathleen Thelen, “Historical Institutionalism in Comparative Politics,” Annual Review of Political Science 2 (1999): 369 – 404; James Mahoney and Dietrich Rueschemeyer, Comparative Historical Analysis in the Social Sciences (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003). 11.  Paul Pierson, Politics in Time: History, Institutions, and Social Analysis (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2004). 12.  Victor D. Cha, “Powerplay: Origins of the U.S. Alliance System in Asia,” International Security 34, no. 3 (2009): 158 –96. 13.  Eric Schickler, Disjointed Pluralism: Institutional Innovation and the Development of the U.S. Congress, (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001). 14.  Victor Cha, “Complex Patchworks: U.S. Alliances as Part of Asia’s Regional Architecture,” Asia Policy 11, no. 1 (2011): 28. 15.  See, for instance, T. J. Pempel, “Soft Balancing, Hedging, and Institutional Darwinism: The Economic-Security Nexus and East Asian Regionalism.” Journal of East Asian Studies 10, no. 2 (2010): 209 –38; Saadia Pekkanen, Asian Designs (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2016); Cha, Complex Patchworks; Ralf Emmers, ASEAN and the Institutionalization of East Asia (New York: Routledge, 2013). 16.  For a functional perspective, see Haggard, “The Organizational Architecture of the Asia-Pacific: Insights from the New Institutionalism,” in Integrating Regions: Asia in Comparative Context, ed. Miles Kahler and Andrew J. MacIntyre (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press, 2013), 199 –221. For a cultural perspective, see Ba, (Re)Negotiating East and

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Southeast Asia. For a political economic perspective, see Calder and Yi, Making of Northeast Asia. For a geopolitical perspective, see Frost, “Rival Regionalisms and Regional Order.” 17.  Thomas Rixen and Lora Anne Viola, “Historical Institutionalism and International Relations: Towards Explaining Change and Stability in International Institutions,” in Historical Institutionalism and International Relations Explaining Institutional Development in World Politics, ed. Thomas Rixen, Lora Anne Viola, and Michael Zürn, 3 –34 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), 8. 18.  Rixen and Viola, “Historical Institutionalism and International Relations,” 4. 19.  Wolfgang Streeck and Kathleen Thelen, Beyond Continuity: Institutional Change in Advanced Political Economies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 5. 20.  William T. Tow and Brendan Taylor, “What Is Asian Security Architecture?” Review of International Studies 36, no. 1 (2010): 100. 21.  Tow and Taylor, “What Is Asian Security Architecture?” 100. 22.  T. J. Pempel and Chung Min Lee, Security Cooperation in Northeast Asia: Architecture and Beyond (London: Routledge, 2012). 23.  Dick Nantos, East Asian Regional Architecture: New Economic and Security Arrangements and U.S. Policy (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2010); Vinod Aggarwal and Min Gyo Koo, “The Evolution of Regionalism in East Asia,” Journal of East Asian Studies 7, no. 3 (2007): 360 – 69; Amitav Acharya, “The Emerging Regional Architecture of World Politics,” World Politics 59, no. 4 (2007): 629 –52. 24.  Goldstein and Mansfield, Nexus of Economics, Security, and International Relations in East Asia; Pempel, Economy-Security Nexus in Northeast Asia. 25.  David L. Shambaugh, “China Engages Asia: Reshaping the Regional Order,” International Security 29, no. 3 (2005): 64 –99. 26.  Ralph Cossa, Northeast Asian Regionalism: A (Possible) Means to an End for Washington, 2009 (New York: Council on Foreign Relations), 1–10; Kent E. Calder and Francis Fukuyama, East Asian Multilateralism: Prospects for Regional Stability (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008); Min Ye, “Constructing Northeast Asia’s Security Institutions,” in Asia’s New Institutional Architecture Evolving Structures for Managing Trade, Financial, and Security Relations, ed. Vinod K. Aggarwal and Min Gyo Koo (Berlin: Springer, 2008), 121–50. 27.  Weixing Hu, “Building Asia-Pacific Regional Institution: The Role of APEC,” Social and Behavioral Sciences 77 (2013): 70. 28.  As a concrete example, the United Nations system rather than the United Nations as an organization (i.e., UN Headquarters in New York) presents a form of architecture facilitating global governance and international interaction. 29.  Pempel, Remapping East Asia, 19. 30.  John Ruggie defines multilateralism as “an institutional form which coordinates relations among three or more states on the basis of ‘generalized’ principles of conduct.” See John Gerard Ruggie, “Multilateralism: The Anatomy of an Institution,” International Organization 46, no. 3 (1992): 571. For a discussion on narrow and broad definitions of multilateralism, see Michael J. Green and Bates Gil, Asia’s New Multilateralism: Cooperation, Competition, and the Search for Community (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 19. For a general discussion on multilateralism in international relations theories, see Robert O. Keohane, “Multilateralism: An Agenda for Research,” International Journal 45, no. 4 (1990): 731– 64; James A. Caporaso, “International Relations Theory and Multilateralism: The Search for Foundations,” International Organization 46, no. 3 (1992): 599 – 632; Martin, “Interests, Power, and Multilateralism.”

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31.  Vincent Pouliot, “The Logic of Practicality: A Theory of Practice of Security Communities,” International Organization 62, no. 2 (2008): 257– 88. 32.  Vinod K. Aggarwal, Institutional Designs for a Complex World: Bargaining, Linkages, and Nesting (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1998); Victor Cha, “Complex Patchworks: U.S. Alliances as Part of Asia’s Regional Architecture,” Asia Policy 11, no. 1 (2011): 27–50. Institutions are rules, arrangements, and organizations “ranging from ad hoc and informal forums that lack an organizational core to formal standing bodies that serve a particular purpose.” This definition is consistent with definitions commonly found in political science and used by regional institutions such as the Asian Development Bank. See Asian Development Bank, Institutions for Regional Integration toward an Asian Economic Community (Mandaluyong City, Philippines: Asian Development Bank, 2011), 5. 33.  See Tow and Taylor, “What Is Asian Security Architecture?” 96. 34.  Although US bilateral alliances influenced the political economy of at least half of East Asia during the Cold War, the hub-and-spokes system more explicitly defined the regional security architecture. 35.  Rozman, Northeast Asia’s Stunted Regionalism. 36.  John Ravenhill, “Understanding the ‘New East Asian Regionalism,’” Review of International Political Economy 17, no. 2 (2010): 173 –77; Jones and Smith, “Making Process, Not Progress.” 37.  Kal Raustiala and David G. Victor, “The Regime Complex for Plant Genetic Resources,” International Organization 58, no. 2 (2004): 277 –309, at 279. Karen Alter and Sophie Meunier have applied this original definition to their conception of international regime complexity: “The presence of nested, partially overlapping, and parallel international regimes that are not hierarchically ordered.” What is discussed in this book might then be referred to as regional regime complexity. See Alter and Meunier, “Politics of International Regime Complexity,” 13. 38.  Ellen L. Frost, Rival Regionalisms and Regional Order: A Slow Crisis of Legitimacy (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, December 2014), 5. 39.  Michael Clarke, “The Belt and Road Initiative: China’s New Grand Strategy?” Asia Policy 24, no. 1 (2017): 71–79. 40.  Kai He, Institutional Balancing in the Asia Pacific: Economic Interdependence and China’s Rise (London: Routledge, 2009). 41.  He, Institutional Balancing in the Asia Pacific, 45. 42.  Alexander Wendt, “Driving with the Rearview Mirror: On the Rational Science of Institutional Design,” International Organization 55, no. 4 (2001): 1020. 43.  Interview with the former EAVG chairman Ambassador Sung-Joo Han, Washington, DC, November 17, 2014. 44.  On the ability to design institutions to facilitate regional integration, see Asian Development Bank, Institutions for Regional Integration. This publication was part of a threepart Asian Development Bank study premised on the very idea that institutions could be rationally designed to “achieve the goal of an Asian economic community.” 45.  Fu-Kuo Liu and Philippe Régnier, Regionalism in East Asia: Paradigm Shifting? (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), 79. 46.  The battle between creationists who support “intelligent design” theories and evolutionists who subscribe to “big bang” theories of the universe provides a mainstream example of this tension.

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47.  Wendt, “Driving with the Rearview Mirror,” 1036. Also see Friedrich A. von Hayek, Law, Legislation and Liberty: A New Statement of the Liberal Principles of Justice and Political Economy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1973). 48.  I thank Richard Bensel for raising this point to me many years ago. 49.  Wendt, “Driving with the Rearview Mirror,” 1037. 50.  Wendt, “Driving with the Rearview Mirror,” 1037. 51.  Wendt, “Driving with the Rearview Mirror,” 1038. To be clear, the institutional choices made by individual policy makers do make a difference in how the regional architecture unfolds. However, their choices may be shaped and limited by existing institutional structures, thus narrowing the range of possible outcomes. Wendt’s comment has often been construed as a structural account, but my own interpretation is that outcomes are often a reflection of the close interaction between structure and agents. 52.  Daniel H. Nexon, The Struggle for Power in Early Modern Europe: Religious Conflict, Dynastic Empires, and International Change (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009), 4. One example is the model adopted from Mahoney and Thelen in which the interaction between political and institutional context produces four types of endogenous change: drift, layering, displacement, and conversion. Paul Pierson provides a different typology of change based on the time horizons of causes and outcomes. See Pierson, Politics in Time, 81. 53.  Orfeo Fioretos, “Historical Institutionalism in International Relations,” International Organization 65, no. 2 (2011): 369. 54.  See Karl Orfeo Fioretos, ed., International Politics and Institutions in Time (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017). Thomas Rixen, Lora Anne Viola, and Michael Zürn, eds., Historical Institutionalism and International Relations Explaining Institutional Development in World Politics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016); Fioretos, “Historical Institutionalism in International Relations; Van Jackson, “A Region Primed for Peace or War? Historical Institutionalism and Debates in East Asian Security,” Journal of Global Security Studies 2, no. 3 (2017): 253 – 67. For other international relations scholarship employing a historical institutional framework, see G. John Ikenberry, After Victory: Institutions, Strategic Restraint and the Rebuilding of Order After Major Wars (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001); Henry Farrell and Abraham L. Newman, “Making Global Markets: Historical Institutionalism in International Political Economy,” Review of International Political Economy 17, no. 4. (2010): 609 –38; Nexon, Struggle for Power in Early Modern Europe. 55.  Barbara Koremenos, Charles Lipson, and Duncan Snidal, “The Rational Design of International Institutions,” International Organization 55, no. 4 (2001): 761–99. 56.  Peter A. Hall and Rosemary C. R. Taylor, “Political Science and the Three New Institutionalisms,” Political Studies 44, no. 5 (1996): 943. 57.  Sven Steinmo, Kathleen Ann Thelen, and Frank Longstreth, Structuring Politics: Historical Institutionalism in Comparative Analysis (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 9. 58.  See, for instance, Ira Katznelson and Barry R. Weingast, Preferences and Situations: Points of Intersection Between Historical and Rational Choice Institutionalism (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 2005). 59.  Nexon, Struggle for Power in Early Modern Europe, 5. 60.  For instance, see Farrell and Newman, Making Global Markets, on how historical institutionalism sheds light on the interaction of domestic and international politics in shaping rules for international markets.

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61.  This harkens to earlier debates about the use and role of ideas in international relations. See John Gerard Ruggie, “What Makes the World Hang Together,” International Organization 52, no. 4 (1998): 855 – 85; Alexander Wendt, “Anarchy Is What States Make of It: The Social Construction of Power Politics,” International Organization 46, no. 2 (1992): 391–425; Judith Goldstein and Robert O. Keohane, Ideas and Foreign Policy: Beliefs, Institutions, and Political Change (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1993). 62.  A promising area for historical institutional research may open by treating ideational structures such as norms or organizational culture as an institution. Such research might examine the emergence and diffusion of new norms, shifts in the institution and practice of sovereignty, or change and continuity in the bureaucratic culture of international institutions. 63.  Rixen and Viola, “Historical Institutionalism and International Relations,” 6. 64.  Mahoney, “Path Dependence in Historical Sociology,” 507. On the vagueness in need for theoretical refinement of HI, see Pierson, Politics in Time, 139 –42. 65.  Pierson, Politics in Time, 2. 66.  Thelen, “Historical Institutionalism in Comparative Politics,” 385. 67.  Pierson, Politics in Time, 10 –11. 68.  Paul Pierson, “Increasing Returns, Path Dependence, and the Study of Politics,” American Political Science Review 94, no. 2 (2000): 251– 68, at 252. 69.  Pierson, “Increasing Returns, Path Dependence, and the Study of Politics,” 252. 70.  Celeste A. Wallander, “Institutional Assets and Adaptability: NATO After the Cold War,” International Organization 54, no. 4 (2000): 708. 71.  Jae-Jung Suh, Power, Interest, and Identity in Military Alliances (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 64. 72.  Suh, Power, Interest, and Identity, 69. 73.  Hall and Taylor, “Political Science and the Three New Institutionalisms,” 941. 74.  Farrell and Newman, “Making Global Markets,” 616. 75.  Ruth Berins Collier and David Collier, Shaping the Political Arena: Critical Junctures, the Labor Movement, and Regime Dynamics in Latin America (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1991); Paul Pierson, “Increasing Returns, Path Dependence, and the Study of Politics,” American Political Science Review 94, no. 2 (2000): 251– 67; Hillel Soifer, “The Causal Logic of Critical Junctures,” Comparative Political Studies 45, no. 12 (2011): 1572 –97. 76.  Stephen Jay Gould, The Structure of Evolutionary Theory (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2002). 77.  Kathleen Thelen, “How Institutions Evolve: Insights from Comparative Historical Analysis,” in Comparative Historical Analysis in the Social Sciences, ed. James Mahoney and Dietrich Rueschemeyer (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 208 –40; Mahoney and Thelen, “Theory of Gradual Institutional Change.” 78.  Schickler, Disjointed Pluralism. 79.  Schickler, Disjointed Pluralism, 16. 80.  Schickler, Disjointed Pluralism, 16. Also see Thelen, “How Institutions Evolve,” 226. 81.  Fioretos, “Historical Institutionalism,” 390. 82.  Fioretos, Falleti, and Sheingate, Oxford Handbook of Historical Institutionalism, 13. 83.  Orren and Skowronek refer to this phenomena as intercurrence. See Karen Orren and Stephen Skowronek, The Search for American Political Development (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 108.

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84.  Alter and Meunier, “Politics of International Regime Complexity”; Keohane and Victor, “Regime Complex for Climate Change.” 85.  Mahoney and Thelen denote levels of resistance in terms of strong or weak veto possibilities. See Mahoney and Thelen, “Theory of Gradual Institutional Change,” 19. 86.  Vinod K. Aggarwal and Min Gyo Koo, Asia’s New Institutional Architecture: Evolving Structures for Managing Trade, Financial, and Security Relations (Berlin: Springer, 2008), 14. Also see Jeffrey Legro, Rethinking the World: Great Power Strategies and International Order (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005), 14. 87.  Note that the evolution of Asia’s regional architecture is a product of both exo­ genous and endogenous modes of change. 88.  Ikenberry, After Victory, 70. 89.  Cha, “Complex Patchworks.” 90.  For a discussion on measuring the degree of alliance consensus, see Andrew Yeo, Activists, Alliances, and Anti-U.S. Base Protests (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 27–30. Alliance consensus captures the concept described here better than the term security consensus, which I had coined in my earlier book. 91.  Since the US withdrawal from the TPP, the agreement was renamed the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP). However, policy makers still commonly refer to it as TPP. 92.  Interviews for this project were conducted in Tokyo, Beijing, Shanghai, Seoul, Singapore, and Washington, DC, between 2011 and 2017. 93.  Evelyn Goh, The Struggle for Order: Hegemony, Hierarchy, and Transition in Post–Cold War East Asia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013). 94.  Fioretos, Falleti, and Sheingate, Oxford Handbook on Historical Institutionalism.

chapter 2 Bilateralism, Multilateralism, and the Making of an Alliance

Consensus 1.  Stephen Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1987). 2.  Peter Katzenstein and Christopher Hemmer, “Why Is There No NATO in Asia? Collective Identity, Regionalism, and the Origins of Multilateralism,” International Organization 56, no. 3 (2002): 575 – 607; Victor D. Cha, “Powerplay: Origins of the US Alliance System in Asia,” International Security 34, no. 3 (2009): 158 – 96; Donald Crone, “Does Hegemony Matter? The Reorganization of the Pacific Political Economy,” World Politics 45, no. 4 (1993): 501–25 [503]; Kent E. Calder and Min Ye, The Making of Northeast Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010), chap. 3. 3.  Although bilateralism defined the Cold War regional architecture, ASEAN’s persistence would have a bearing on the future of East Asian regionalism. Like the domestic elite consensus forged around US alliances, the acceptance of ASEAN norms among Southeast Asian elites would reinforce ASEAN’s relevance in the evolution of East Asia’s regional architecture. 4.  Muthiah Alagappa, “International Politics in Asia: The Historical Context,” in Muthiah Alagappa, ed., Asian Security Practice: Material and Ideational Influences (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998): 65 –111; David C. Kang, East Asia before the West: Five Centuries of Trade and Tribute (New York: Columbia University Press, 2011). 5.  Eri Hotta, Pan-Asianism and Japan’s War, 1931–1945 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007).

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6.  G. John Ikenberry, “The Political Foundations of American Relations with East Asia,” in G. John Ikenberry and Chung-in Moon, eds., The United States and Northeast Asia: Debates, Issues, and New Order (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008), 19 –38; Kent E. Calder, “Critical Junctures and the Contours of Northeast Asian Regionalism,” in Kent E. Calder and Francis Fukuyama, eds., East Asian Multilateralism: Prospects for Regional Stability (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008), 15 –39. 7.  What resistance and competition ensued regarding institutional design was largely domestic in nature or internal to newly liberated states, particularly in Southeast Asia. 8.  I thank Ian Chong for raising this point in an email correspondence. 9.  Kimie Hara, “Rethinking the ‘Cold War’ in the Asia-Pacific,” Pacific Review 12, no. 4 (1999): 515 –36 [517]. Also see Kimie Hara, “Cold War Frontiers in the Asia-Pacific: The Troubling Legacy of the San Francisco Treaty,” Japan Focus, September 4, 2006. 10.  Calder, “Critical Junctures and the Contours of Northeast Asian Regionalism.” 11.  Donald Crone, “Does Hegemony Matter? The Reorganization of the Pacific Political Economy,” World Politics 45, no. 4 (1993): 501–25 [503]. 12.  Victor Cha notes that the United States opposed the Pacific Pact for two primary reasons. First, the US feared entrapment by allies such as South Korea and Taiwan willing to engage in aggressive behavior for the sake of unification. Second, the US preferred bilateral arrangements, which not only supported a containment strategy against the Soviets but also maximized control over potential “rogue allies.” Thus, despite drafting an outline of the Pacific Pact in early 1951, US policy makers remained fairly noncommittal about sustaining multilateral organizations in East Asia. As Kent Calder and Min Ye argue, the Korean War effectively blocked any further efforts to build East Asian multilateral institutions, as US planners opted instead for strengthened bilateral alliances. See Victor D. Cha, Powerplay: The Origins of the American Alliance System in Asia (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2017), 3; Calder and Ye, Making of Northeast Asia, chap. 3. 13.  Hemmer and Katzenstein, “Why Is There No NATO in Asia,” 575. 14.  Hemmer and Katzenstein, “Why Is There No NATO in Asia,” 591– 94. For instance, a State Department official was quoted as describing Asians as being “only one generation out of the tree tops.” Quoted in Hemmer and Katzenstein, “Why Is There No NATO in Asia,” 597. 15.  Southeast Asian nations would eventually form the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, forming a multilateral institution under their own terms to account for local norms of nonintervention and consensus grafted onto new ideas about multilateral security. See Amitav Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter? Agency and Power in Asian Regionalism (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2009). 16.  For an overview of different perspectives explaining bilateralism in Asia, see Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 2. 17.  Between 1951 and 1954, the US established bilateral mutual defense treaties with the Philippines, Australia and New Zealand, South Korea, Taiwan, and Japan. Thailand would also become loosely associated with the hub-and-spokes framework, with its ties to the United States through SEATO and reinforced by the Thanat-Rusk Communiqué of 1962. 18.  G. John Ikenberry, “America in East Asia: Power, Markets, and Grand Strategy,” in Ellis S. Krauss and T. J. Pempel, eds., Beyond Bilateralism: US-Japan Relations in the New Asia-Pacific (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004): 37–54 [38]. 19.  Thomas Christensen, “Fostering Stability or Creating a Monster?” International Security 31, no. 1 (2006): 81–126 [87].

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20.  The discussion on alliance consensus derives from my previous work. See Andrew Yeo, Activists, Alliances, and Anti-US Base Protests (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 14 –17. For a similar argument exploring the beliefs of Southeast Asian policy makers about the United States, see Natasha Hamilton-Hart, Hard Interests, Soft Illusions: Southeast Asia and American Power (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2002). 21.  Ikenberry, “Political Foundations of American Relations with East Asia,” 21. 22.  Michael B. Yahuda, The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific (Oxnon: Routledge, 2011), 12. 23.  Sheri Berman, “Ideas, Norms, and Culture in Political Analysis,” Comparative Politics 33, no. 2 (2001): 231–50 [237]. 24.  Jeffrey Legro, Rethinking the World: Great Power Strategies and International Order (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005), 5. 25.  Vincent Pouliot, “Multilateralism as an End in Itself,” International Studies Perspectives 12, no. 1 (2011): 271. 26.  Robert W. Cox, “Gramsci, Hegemony and International Relations: An Essay in Method,” Millennium—Journal of International Studies 12, no. 2 (1983): 172. 27.  Cox, ““Gramsci, Hegemony and International Relations,” 258. 28.  Some may wonder why I include Thailand while excluding the Republic of China (Taiwan), where Taiwanese elites were more likely to develop a strong alliance consensus than in Thailand, which did not sign a separate mutual defense treaty with the US. Thailand is included for geographical representation to ensure that alliance consensus was not limited to Northeast Asia. Thailand and the Philippines are two countries that were party to SEATO and later ASEAN while maintaining their status as US treaty alliance partners in Asia. The ROC is excluded for its “quasi-diplomatic” relationship with the United States. On the one hand, the ROC is an easy case to identify an alliance consensus, paralleling South Korea’s experience. On the other hand, de-recognition of the ROC in favor of the People’s Republic of China in 1980, while carving out special diplomatic status for Taiwan, makes US-ROC relations unusual. Despite ROC’s status, my general position on ROC is that the alliance consensus framework applies to ROC as with other allies within the hub-and-spokes system. 29.  Robert Jervis, “Was the Cold War a Security Dilemma?” Journal of Cold War Studies 3, no. 1 (2001): 36 – 60. 30.  The Australia and the Philippines would fall in the middle. 31.  Alliance resilience requires both parties working to manage problems in the alliance. Although I “control” for Washington’s side of the equation in an effort to highlight the domestic security consensus within Asian countries, US policy makers obviously remained engaged in resolving alliance tensions with their Asian partners. 32.  Japan was also included inside this perimeter. However, in the 1940s, Taiwan and South Korea remained outside this perimeter. 33.  Raymond Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator: The Marcoses and the Making of American Policy (New York: Times Books, 1987), 34. 34.  Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator, 39. 35.  Senator Claro Recto, an outspoken Philippine nationalist, was on the receiving end of subversive political attacks from the CIA. During the 1959 Senate elections, the CIA helped put together a slate of candidates favorable to US policy. See Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator, 41–42. 36.  For full text of the legislation, see Chan Robles Law Library, http://​www​ .chanrobles​.com/​republicactno1700​.htm​#​.U0L6vFczJ8F.

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37.  Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator, 43. However, Marcos was opposed to sending Philippine troops to Vietnam. 38.  Quoted in Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator, 65. 39.  See US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969 –1976, vol. 20, Southeast Asia, 1969 –1972, doc. no. 258, “Telegram from the Embassy in the Philippines to the Department of State,” September 21, 1972. 40.  See full text of Proclamation No. 1981 at Republic of the Philippines National Government Portal, https://​www​.gov​.ph /​1972/​09/​21/​proclamation​-no​-1081/. As Raymond Bonner argues, eighteen of the twenty-two whereas clauses following this opening paragraph would provide evidence for and evoke the threat of communist insurgency. 41.  At the time, Nixon was preoccupied with Watergate, and Kissinger was working to negotiate an end to the Vietnam War. The US essentially acquiesced to the Marcos regime. 42.  Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator, 43. 43.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969 –1976, vol. 20, Southeast Asia, 1969 –1972, doc. no. 263, “Telegram from the Embassy in the Philippines to the Department of State,” October 2, 1972. 44.  Bonner, Waltzing with a Dictator, 286 –94. 45.  Thomas Berger, “Norms, Identity, and National Security in Germany and Japan,” in Peter Katzenstein, ed., The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity in World Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996): 317–56 [330]; Edwin O. Reischauer, The United States and Japan (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1957), 205 –18. 46.  Kenneth B. Pyle, The Japanese Question: Power and Purpose in a New Era (Washington, DC: AEI Press, 1992); Richard J. Samuels, Securing Japan: Tokyo’s Grand Strategy and the Future of East Asia (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2008). 47.  Peter Katzenstein and Nobuo Okawara, “Japan’s National Security: Structures, Norms, and Policies,” International Security 17, no. 4 (1993): 84 –118 [104]. For further discussion of Article 9’s revision, see Samuels, Securing Japan, 81; Peter J. Katzenstein, Rethinking Japanese Security: Internal and External Dimensions (London: Routledge, 2008), 35. 48.  See Samuels, Securing Japan, chap. 1. 49.  Pyle, Japanese Question, 20. 50.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1952 –1954, vol. 14, pt. 2, China and Japan, doc. no. 619, “Memorandum of Conversation by Dulles,” December 4, 1952. 51.  Michael Schaller, Altered States: The United States and Japan since the Occupation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 64 –71. 52.  Samuels, Rethinking Japanese Security, 95. 53.  Katzenstein and Okuwara, “Japan’s National Security,” 103 –4; Samuels, Rethinking Japanese Security, 45 –48. 54.  Schaller, Altered States, 136. 55.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1958 –1960, vol. 18, Japan; Korea, doc. no. 35, “Telegram from the Embassy in Japan to the Department of State,” November 28, 1958. 56.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1955 –1957, vol. 23, pt. 1, Japan, doc. no. 227, “Letter from the Ambassador in Japan (MacArthur) to the Under Secretary of State (Herter),” September 20, 1957. 57.  The passage of the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security in the Japanese Diet resulted in mass protests in Tokyo. Although this can be construed as evidence against an

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alliance consensus among Japanese elites, the unrest was more likely triggered by LDP legislative gymnastics and Kishi’s waning popularity rather than anti-US sentiment. The US embassy in Tokyo attributed the protests to disgruntled socialists and other extremists. As the US ambassador cabled to Washington, “The great majority of Japanese wish USJapan partnership to continue and feel that American friendship and cooperation, in terms of their own realistic self-interests, is indispensable to prosperity and progress of Japan.” At any rate, after 1960, there were few, if any, major anti-US protests in the main island of Japan. US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1958 –1960, vol. 18, Japan; Korea, doc. no. 190, “Telegram from the Embassy in Japan to the Department of State.” Also see Roger Buckley, US-Japan Alliance Diplomacy, 1945 –1990 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 96 –97. For a comprehensive overview of this period, see George R. Packard, Protest in Tokyo: The Security Treaty Crisis of 1960 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1966). 58.  Buckley, US-Japan Alliance Diplomacy, 103. 59.  Buckley, US-Japan Alliance Diplomacy, 103. 60.  Pyle, Japanese Question, 35. 61.  Thomas U. Berger, Redefining Japan & the US-Japan Alliance (New York: Japan Society, 2004), 43. 62.  Pyle, Japanese Question, 33. 63.  Contributing to nationalism was the publication of popular books such as Shintaro Ishihara’s The Japan That Can Say No (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1991). 64.  Schaller, Altered States, 254. 65.  Quoted in Atsushi Tokinoya, The Japan-US Alliance: A Japanese Perspective (London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1986), 13. 66.  Tokinoya, Japan-US Alliance, 14. 67.  Tokinoya, Japan-US Alliance, 14. 68.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, Diplomatic Papers 1944, vol. 5, Near East, South Asia, Africa, and the Far East, 1239 –42, “Memorandum Prepared by the Inter-Divisional Area Committee on the Far East,” May 4, 1944, http://​digital​ .library​.wisc​.edu/​1711​.dl/​FRUS​.FRUS1944v05. 69.  Chae-Jin Lee and Hideo Sato, US Policy toward Japan and Korea: A Changing Influence Relationship (New York: Praeger, 1982), 6. 70.  Hemmer and Katzenstein, “Why Is There No NATO in Asia,” 598; Robert J. McMahon, The Limits of Empire: The United States and Southeast Asia since World War II (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), 98. 71.  Bruce Cumings, Korea’s Place in the Sun: A Modern History (New York: Norton, 1997), 193. 72.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, Diplomatic Paper 1945, vol.  6, The British Commonwealth, the Far East, 1049 –53, “The Political Adviser in Korea (Benninghoff ) to the Secretary of State, September 15, 1945,” http://​digital​.library​ .wisc​.edu/​1711​.dl/​FRUS​.FRUS1945v06. 73.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, Diplomatic Paper 1945, The British Commonwealth, the Far East, vol. 6, 1091–92, “Telegram: Acting Political Adviser in Japan to the Secretary of State, October 15, 1945.” 74.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, Diplomatic Paper 1946, vol. 8, The Far East, 627, “The Political Adviser in Korea (Benninghoff ) to the Secretary of State, January 28, 1946,” http://​digital​.library​.wisc​.edu/​1711​.dl/​FRUS​.FRUS1946v08. 75.  Cumings, Korea’s Place in the Sun, 194.

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76.  Youngnok Koo and Sung-joo Han, The Foreign Policy of the Republic of Korea (New York: Columbia University Press, 1985), 143. 77.  Lee and Sato, US Policy toward Japan and Korea, 15. 78.  Lee and Sato, US Policy toward Japan and Korea, 15. 79.  Cuming, Korea’s Place in the Sun, 344. 80.  Taehyun Kim and Chang Jae Baik, “Taming and Tamed by the United States,” in Byung-guk Kim and Ezra F. Vogel, eds., The Park Chung Hee Era: The Transformation of South Korea (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011): 58 – 84 [63]; Cumings, Korea’s Place in the Sun, 346. 81.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961–1963, vol. 22, Northeast Asia, doc. no. 249, “Letter from the Ambassador to Korea (Berger) to Secretary of State Rusk, December 15, 1961.” 82.  Kim and Baek, “Taming and Tamed by the United States,” 59. 83.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961–1963, vol. 29, “Letter from the Ambassador to Korea (Brown) to the Assistant Secretary of State for Far Eastern Affairs (Bundy),” September 21, 1964. 84.  Joseph M. Siracusa and David G. Coleman, Australia Looks to America: AustralianAmerican Relations, since Pearl Harbor (Claremont, CA: Regina Books, 2006), 13. 85.  Coral Bell, Dependent Ally: A Study in Australian Foreign Policy (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1988). 86.  Bell, Dependent Ally, 1. 87.  Bell, Dependent Ally, 7. 88.  Quoted in Bell, Dependent Ally, 9. 89.  Quoted in Bell, Dependent Ally, 22. 90.  Glen St. John Barclay, Friends in High Places: Australian-American Diplomatic Relations since 1945 (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1985), 23 –31; Bell, Dependent Ally, 39. 91.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1951, vol. 6, pt. 1, Northeast Asia, 135, “Memorandum by John Foster Dulles to the Ambassador at Large ( Jessup),” January 4, 1951. 92.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1951, vol. VI, pt. 1, Northeast Asia, 140, “Memorandum by the Assistant Secretary of State for European Affairs to Mr. John Foster Dulles,” January 15, 1951. 93.  American History for Australian Schools, “Minister for External Affairs Percy Spender’s Message to Patrick Gordon-Walker, United Kingdom Parliamentary UnderSecretary of State for Commonwealth Affairs,” April 4, 1951. Original source from National Archives of Australia, at http://​www​.anzasa​.arts​.usyd​.edu​.au/​ahas/​anzus/​document​ _6​.html. 94.  Siracusa and Coleman, Australia Looks to America, 48 – 60; Bell, Dependent Ally, 60 – 61. 95.  Quoted in Bell, Dependent Ally, 67. 96.  Quoted in Bell, Dependent Ally, 68. 97.  Bell, Dependent Ally, 69. 98.  Henry Stephen Albinski, The Australian-American Security Relationship: A Regional and International Perspective (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1982), 1. 99.  Barclay, Friends in High Places, 151; Bell, Dependent Ally, 77. 100.  Barclay, Friends in High Places, 204. 101.  Amy L. Catalinac, “Why New Zealand Took Itself out of ANZUS: Observing ‘Opposition for Autonomy’ in Asymmetric Alliances,” Foreign Policy Analysis 6, no. 4 (2010): 319.

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102.  Bell, Dependent Ally, 43. 103.  David A. Wilson, The United States and the Future of Thailand (New York: Praeger, 1970), 29. 104.  The Thai government declared war on the United States in support of Japan, but Thailand’s ambassador to the US refused to submit the formal letter and declared his legation the center of “Free Thailand.” 105.  R. Sean Randolph, The United States and Thailand: Alliance Dynamics, 1950 –1985 (Berkeley: Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California, 1986), 8. 106.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 10. 107.  US Department of State, “A Timeline of Key Events in US-Thai Relations,” http://​bangkok​.usembassy​.gov/​relation/​timeline​.html. 108.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 15. 109.  Daniel Fineman, A Special Relationship the United States and Military Government in Thailand, 1947–1958 (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1997). 110.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 10 –11. 111.  Wilson, United States and the Future of Thailand, 35. 112.  Fineman, Special Relationship, 190. 113.  Quoted in Fineman, Special Relationship, 191. 114.  Fineman, Special Relationship, 196. 115.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 28. 116.  Fineman, Special Relationship, 197. 117.  Bamrungsuk Surachart, United States Foreign Policy and Thai Military Rule, 1947– 1977 (Bangkok: Editions Duangkamol, 1988), 113. 118.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 42. 119.  Aside from the air base in Ramasun, the US and Thailand did not sign any formal basing agreements, nor was a formal Status of Forces Agreement established. 120.  Surachart, United States Foreign Policy and Thai Military Rule, 36. 121.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 91. 122.  Randolph, United States and Thailand, 65 (emphasis added). 123.  Surachart, United States Foreign Policy and Thai Military Rule, 174 –75; Randolph, United States and Thailand, 136. 124.  Surachart, United States Foreign Policy and Thai Military Rule, 196. 125.  The Asian Development Bank is the other regional institution that outlasted the Cold War. 126.  For more detailed overviews on the origins of ASEAN, see Acharya, Making of Southeast Asia, 2009; Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia; Rodolfo Severino, ASEAN (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2008). 127.  Acharya, Making of Southeast Asia, 142. 128.  Acharya, Making of Southeast Asia, 155. For an excellent overview of the two organizations, see Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 45 –48; and Acharya, Making of Southeast Asia, 150 –55. 129.  The Bangkok Declaration is available at the ASEAN website, at http://​www​ .asean​.org/​news/​item/​the​-asean​-declaration​-bangkok​-declaration. 130.  Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 48 –49; Amitav Acharya also cites shifts in great power rivalries, shared intraregional threat perceptions, and common ideas about economic growth as other contributing factors to ASEAN ‘s formation. See Acharya, Making of Southeast Asia, 155 – 64. 131.  Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 93.

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132.  Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 94 –95. 133.  In 2001, ASEAN decide to hold the leaders meeting annually. See Asian Development Bank, Institutions for Regional Integration, 131. 134.  Asian Development Bank, Institutions for Regional Integration, 122. 135.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969 –1976, vol. E-12, Documents of East and Southeast Asia, 1973 –1976, doc. no. 20, “Memorandum from Thomas J. Barnes and Richard Solomon of the National Security Council Staff to Secretary of State Kissinger, Washington, September 11, 1975,” http://​history​.state​.gov/​ historicaldocuments/​frus1969 –76ve12/d20. 136.  US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969 –1976, vol. E-12, Documents of East and Southeast Asia, 1973 –1976, doc. no. 16, “Memorandum from Secretary of State Kissinger to President Ford, Washington, June 13, 1975,” http://​history​ .state​.gov/​historicaldocuments/​frus1969 –76ve12/d16.

chapter 3  Change and Continuity: 1989 –1997 1.  Robert D. Blackwill and Paul Dibb, America’s Asian Alliances (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2000), 5. 2.  Vinod K. Aggarwal and Min Gyo Koo, Asia’s New Institutional Architecture Evolving Structures for Managing Trade, Financial, and Security Relations (Berlin: Springer, 2008). 3.  On APEC, see John Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001). On ARF, see Michael Leifer, The ASEAN Regional Forum: Extending ASEAN’s Model of Regional Security (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996); Jürgen Haacke and Noel M. Morada, Cooperative Security in the Asia-Pacific: The ASEAN Regional Forum (London: Routledge, 2010); Hiro Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise: Norms and Interests in the ASEAN Regional Forum (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009). 4.  PAFTDA continues to meet on a regular basis (approximately every eighteen months). See its website at http://​paftad​.org/​conferences. 5.  Ippei Yamazawa, APEC: New Agenda in Its Third Decade (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2011), 9. 6.  Australia and Japan were two exceptions. See Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 54 –55. 7.  Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 26. 8.  Christopher M. Dent, East Asian Regionalism (London: Routledge, 2008), 122. 9.  Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 66. 10.  Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 68. 11.  However, Australian DFA officials had been in close communication with Japanese bureaucrats who provided diplomatic support. 12.  Bob Hawke, The Hawke Memoirs (Port Melbourne: Heinemann Australia, 1994), 232. 13.  The US also presented its own proposals for regional cooperation in 1988. 14.  MITI backed the Australian proposal, whereas MOFA appeared more reserved without ASEAN’s strong endorsement. 15.  The Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT) had been in consultation with Japan’s MITI in the months before the announcement. However, Washington was not informed that the US was initially included as a participant.

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16.  Takashi Terada, The Genesis of APEC: Australia-Japan Political Initiatives (Canberra: Australia-Japan Research Centre, Australia National University, December 1999), 1–51 [28]. 17.  For speculation on why the Australian government had nixed the United States, see Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 82 – 83. 18.  Quoted in Terada, Genesis of APEC, 35. 19.  Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 84. 20.  Alice D. Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia: Region, Regionalism, and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2009), 132. 21.  Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 142. Also see Mohamad Mahathir, “From Confrontation to Cooperation: ASEAN’s Agenda for a Cooperative Peace,” paper presented at the conference Challenge of Change, Bali, Indonesia, March 3 –5, 1991. 22.  Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 84. 23.  Terada, Genesis of APEC, 36. 24.  Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 142. 25.  Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 142. 26.  APEC, “World and Regional Economic Developments- Speech by Minister of Foreign Affairs, Brunei Darussalam,” 1st APEC Ministerial Meeting, Canberra, Australia, November 6 –7, 1989, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1989/AMM/011. 27.  APEC, “World and Regional Economic Developments- Statement by the Minister of Commerce, Thailand,” 1st APEC Ministerial Meeting, Canberra, Australia, November 6 –7, 1989, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as APEC I/1/10. 28.  APEC, “Future Steps for Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation—Remarks by Minister of State for Finance and Foreign Affairs, Singapore,” 1st APEC Ministerial Meeting, Canberra, Australia, November 6 –7, 1989, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1989/ AMM/050. 29.  APEC, “Opening Address by Prime Minister, Singapore,” 2nd APEC Ministerial Meeting, Singapore, July 29 –31, 1990, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1990/ AMM/004. 30.  APEC, “World and Regional Economic Developments—Statement by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Malaysia,” 2nd APEC Ministerial Meeting, Singapore, July 29 –31, 1990, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1990/AMM/014. 31.  APEC, “World and Regional Economic Developments—Statement by the Minister of Industry and Primary Resources, Brunei Darussalam,” 2nd APEC Ministerial Meeting, Singapore, July 29 –31, 1990, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1990/ AMM/008. 32.  Tatsuhi Ogita, On Principles of APEC (Chiba, Japan: Institute of Developing Economies, APEC Study Center, March 2001), 1–24 [5]. 33.  APEC Joint Statement of First Ministerial Meeting, Canberra, Australia, November 6 –7, 1989, at http://​www​.apec​.org/​~/​media/​Files/​MinisterialStatements/​Annual/​1989/​ 89​_amm​_jms​.pdf. 34.  APEC, “World and Regional Economic Developments — Opening Statement by the Chairman,” 1st APEC Ministerial Meeting, Canberra, Australia, November 6 – 7, 1989, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1989/AMM/005. 35.  The Bogor Goals would reveal factions between developing and developed economies in East Asia. For instance, in analyzing member economies’ statements at the 1995 APEC meeting, countries such as China, Malaysia, and Thailand expressed dissension over

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the Bogor Goals. Meanwhile, countries such as South Korea and Japan wholeheartedly supported the Bogor Goals. 36.  APEC, “Intervention by the United States,” 7th APEC Ministerial Meeting, Osaka, Japan November 16 – 77, 1995, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1995/ AMM/027. 37.  See APEC, “APEC: A New Vision: Paper on the Future Structure of APEC,” 5th APEC Ministerial Meeting, Seattle, November 17–19, 1993, filed in the APEC Secretariat Library as 1995/AMM/060. 38.  Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 127; Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 126, 129 –31. In the mid-1990s, ASEAN states requested a more flexible approach to liberalization 39.  Only in 2010 did the executive director position of the Secretariat shift from an annual appointed position rotating among member countries to a three-year fixed term open to professional candidates. However, the Secretariat’s role is still limited to coordination, technical support, information management, and public outreach. See APEC Secretariat, http://​www​.apec​.org/​about​-us/​apec​-secretariat​.aspx. 40.  The EAEG failed in the immediate, direct sense that it never materialized into an organization like APEC. However, the initial concept of the EAEG survived, eventually becoming manifest in the ASEAN Plus Three. See Chapter 4 for further discussion. 41.  See Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 145. 42.  Mohamad Mahathir and Shintaro Ishihara, The Voice of Asia: Two Leaders Discuss the Coming Century (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1995), 42. 43.  Mohamad Mahathir, “Regional Groupings in the Pacific Rim: An East Asian Perspective,” in Barbara K. Bundy, Stephen D. Burns, and Kimberly V. Weichel, eds., The Future of the Pacific Rim: Scenarios for Regional Cooperation (Westport, CT: Praeger, 1994), 94 –99. 44.  Quoted in Ravenhill, APEC and the Construction of Pacific Rim Regionalism, 94. 45.  Quoted in Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 272. 46.  Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 148. 47.  Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia, 149. 48.  Leifer, ASEAN Regional Forum, 23; Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 182. 49.  Alastair Iain Johnston. “The Myth of the ASEAN Way,” in Helga Haftendorn, Robert O. Keohane, and Celeste A. Wallander, eds., Imperfect Unions: Security Institutions over Time and Space (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 287–324 [291]. 50.  For instance, the assistant secretary of state for East Asian and Pacific affairs Richard Solomon expressed early skepticism about the utility of an Asia-Pacific security grouping. See Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 123. This was corroborated in a discussion between the author and Ambassador Solomon on December 17, 2014, at the Council on Foreign Relations. On this point, also see Evelyn Goh, “The ASEAN Regional Forum in United States East Asian Strategy,” Pacific Review 17, no. 1 (2004): 47– 69 [51]. 51.  Quoted in Leifer, ASEAN Regional Forum, 24. 52.  Alice Ba, “The ASEAN Regional Forum: Maintaining the Regional Idea in Southeast Asia,” International Journal 52, no. 4 (1997): 635 –56 [643]. Foreign Minister Evans had stated at the July 19, 1990, ASEAN-PMC meeting: “We can . . . ask why we should not seek to put together a Conference on Security and Cooperation in Asia — a CSCA— similar to the CSCE. . . . It is not unreasonable to hope and expect that the new Europe-

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style patterns of cooperation . . . will find their echo in this part of the world.” Quoted in Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 145. 53.  ASEAN-ISIS, “A Time for Initiative: Proposals for the Consideration of the Fourth ASEAN Summit,” June 4, 1991. To date, the ASEAN PMC had covered only economic issues. For further discussion on the role of ASEAN-ISIS and track II diplomacy in relation to ARF’s creation, see Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 191–93. 54.  Statement by Foreign Minister Taro Nakayama to the General Session of the ASEAN Post Ministerial Conference, Kuala Lumpur, July 22, 1991, http://​www​.mofa​ .go​.jp/​policy/​other/ ​bluebook/​1991/​1991​-appendix​-2​.htm​#​%285​%29​%20Statement​ %20by​%20Foreign​% 20Minister​%20Taro​%20Nakayama​%20to​%20the​%20General​%20  Session​%20of​%20the​%20ASEAN​%20Post​%20Ministerial​%20Conference?. There are different interpretations of whether the Nakayama proposal was delivered before or after the ASEAN-ISIS proposal for regional security cooperation. Nakayama’s proposal was delivered at the July 1991 ASEAN-PMC; the ASEAN-ISIS memorandum, A Time for Initiative, was published the previous month in June 1991. Amitav Acharya claims the Nakayama proposal was delivered in 1993, which I believe is incorrect. Iain Johnston argues that Nakayama’s statement came before the ISIS memorandum. Regardless of the timeline, the main point is that both Japan and ASEAN were taking part in track II discussions in the early 1990s and advancing a regional security dialogue along the ASEAN-PMC framework. See Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 119; Johnston, “Myth of the ASEAN Way,” 292. 55.  Gareth Evans, “Regional Security: Notes for Statement by Senator Gareth Evans, Australian Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade, to ASEAN PMC 6 + 7 Closed Session,” Manila, July 24, 1992, http://​www​.gevans​.org/​speeches/​old/​1992/​240792​_fm​_regional  sec​.pdf. 56.  Rizal Sukma, “The Accidental Driver: ASEAN in the ASEAN Regional Forum,” in Jürgen Haacke and Noel M. Morada, eds., Cooperative Security in the Asia-Pacific: The ASEAN Regional Forum (London: Routledge, 2010), 111–23 [112]. Regarding the US position, Yuen Foong Khong contends that Washington was suspicious of “any prospective multilateralism in the Asia-Pacific that might undermine the utility and credibility of existing bilateral arrangement to which the United States was committed.” Quoted in Sukma, “Accidental Driver,” 112. 57.  Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 124. 58.  Robert Zoellick, “Opening Statement at the Meeting between ASEAN and the Dialogue Partners,” Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, July 22, 1991, quoted in Katsumata, ­ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 124. 59.  Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 124. 60.  James A. Baker, “America in Asia: Emerging Architecture for a Pacific Community,” Foreign Affairs 70, no. 5 (1991): 1–18. 61.  Quoted in Leifer, ASEAN Regional Forum, 21. 62.  Noel M. Morada, “The ASEAN Regional Forum: Origins and Evolution,” in Jürgen Haacke and Noel M. Morada, eds., Cooperative Security in the Asia-Pacific: The ASEAN Regional Forum (London: Routledge, 2010): 13 –35 [15]. 63.  Sukma, “Accidental Driver,” 113. 64.  Leifer, ASEAN Regional Forum, 26. 65.  Evelyn Goh, “The ASEAN Regional Forum in United States East Asian Strategy,” Pacific Review 17, no. 1 (2004): 47– 69 [47]; Johnston, Myth of the ASEAN Way, 292; Ba, “ASEAN Regional Forum.”

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66.  Ba, “ASEAN Regional Forum,” 645; Sukma, “Accidental Driver,” 113. 67.  Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 118; Morada, “ASEAN Regional Forum,” 16. 68.  Katsumata, “Establishment of the ASEAN Regional Forum,” 191. 69.  Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 116 –18. 70.  Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 118. 71.  Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter; Johnston, “Myth of the ASEAN Way”; Morada, “ASEAN Regional Forum,” 16; Ba, (Re)negotiating East and Southeast Asia. 72.  Leifer, ASEAN Regional Forum, 27. 73.  This argument was also reiterated in the Chair’s Statement of the Second and Third ARF meetings. See the Second ASEAN Regional Forum Chairman’s Statement, Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei Darussalam, August 1, 1995, in ASEAN Secretariat, ASEAN Regional Forum Documents Series 1994 –2006, 2007 ( Jakarta, Indonesia: ASEAN), 8. 74.  Sukma, “Accidental Driver,” 113 75.  ASEAN, “The ASEAN Regional Forum: A Concept Paper,” 1995, http://​ ASEANregionalforum​.ASEAN​.org/​library/​arf​-chairmans​-statements​-and​-reports/​132​ .html; Acharya, Whose Ideas Matter, 121. 76.  Morada, “ASEAN Regional Forum,”16. 77.  Chairman’s Statement the First ASEAN Regional Forum, Bangkok, Thailand, July 25, 1994, available in ASEAN Secretariat, ASEAN Regional Forum Documents Series 1994 – 2006, Jakarta, Indonesia, March 2007. 78.  Chairman’s Statement of the 2nd Meeting of the ASEAN Regional Forum, Brunei Darussalam, August 1, 1995, http://​ASEANregionalforum​.ASEAN​.org/​library/​arf​ -chairmans​-statements​-and​-reports/​133​.html. 79.  Chairman’s Statement of the 2nd Meeting. 80.  Katsumata, ASEAN’s Cooperative Security Enterprise, 126. 81.  Winston Lord, Assistant Secretary-Designate for East Asian and Pacific Affairs, Statement before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Washington, DC, March 31, 1993, http://​1997​-2001​.state​.gov/​www/​regions/​eap/​930331​.html. 82.  Lord, Statement before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. 83.  Lord, Statement before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. 84.  Bill Clinton, “Remarks by the President in Address to the National Assembly of the Republic of Korea,” Seoul, South Korea, July 10, 1993, http://​www​.fas​.org/​spp/​starwars/​ offdocs/​w930710​.htm. 85.  Quoted in Glosserman, “United States and the ASEAN Regional Forum,” 40. 86.  US Department of State, “Written Statement by Secretary of State Warren Christopher at the ASEAN Regional Forum,” Jakarta, Indonesia, July 23, 1996, http://​dosfan​ .lib​.uic​.edu/​ERC/​briefing/​dossec/​1996/​9607/​960723dossec1​.html. 87.  Quoted in Glosserman, “United States and the ASEAN Regional Forum,” 38; Goh, “ASEAN Regional Forum in United States East Asian Strategy,” 53. 88.  This strategy would be reflected in the 1998 East Asia Strategy. See United States Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense, The United States Security Strategy for the East Asia-Pacific Region (Washington, DC: Department of Defense, 1998). 89.  This is the argument raised in proposition 4 in Chapter 1. 90.  Yuzawa, “Japan and the ASEAN Regional Forum,” 73. 91.  G. John Ikenberry and Takashi Inoguchi, Reinventing the Alliance: US-Japan Security Partnership in an Era of Change (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 15. 92.  Chien-Peng Chung, China’s Multilateral Co-operation in Asia and the Pacific: Institutionalizing Beijing’s “Good Neighbor Policy” (New York: Routledge, 2010), 49.

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93.  Johnston, “Myth of the ASEAN Way,” 296. 94.  Tow and Acharya, “Obstinate or Obsolete?” 95.  This finding highlights the domestic nature of the alliance consensus. See propositions 1a and 1b in Chapter 1. 96.  Michael J. Green and Mike Mochizuki, The US-Japan Security Alliance in the 21st Century: Prospects for Incremental Change (New York: Council on Foreign Relations, 1998), 27. 97.  Hisayoshi Ina, “The Japan-US Security Alliance in a New Era of International Relations,” in Japan Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ed., Japan-US Security Alliance for the 21st Century: Cornerstone of Democracy, Peace and Prosperity for Our Future Generations (Tokyo: Overseas Public Relations Division Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1996), 3 –14. 98.  Mike Mochizuki, Toward a True Alliance: Restructuring US-Japan Security Relations (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 1997), 9. 99.  G. John Ikenberry and Takashi Inoguchi, Reinventing the Alliance: US-Japan Security Partnership in an Era of Change (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 2. 100.  Daily Yomiuri, “The Pentagon’s Recipe for Peace in Asia and the Pacific,” February 28, 1995. 101.  Ina, “Japan-US Security Alliance in a New Era of International Relations,” 34. 102.  “Japan-US Declaration on Joint Security—Alliance for the Twenty-First Century,” April 16, 1996, http://​www​.mofa​.go​.jp/​region/​n​-america/​us/​security/​security​.html. 103.  Hitoshi Tanaka, “Japan-US Alliance for the 21st Century —President Clinton’s Visit to Japan,” in Japan Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ed., Japan-US Security Alliance for the 21st Century: Cornerstone of Democracy, Peace and Prosperity for Our Future Generations (Tokyo: Overseas Public Relations Division Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1996): 3 –14 [9]. 104.  “Japan-US Declaration on Joint Security.” 105.  Mochizuki, Toward a True Alliance, 15. 106.  “Report on the Interim Review of the Guidelines for US-Japan Defense Cooperation,” June 17, 1997, http://​www​.mofa​.go​.jp/​region/​n-​ america/​us/​security/​guideline​ .html. 107.  “Report on the Interim Review.” 108.  Yukio Okamoto, “Searching for a Solution to the Okinawan Problem,” in Japan Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ed., Japan-US Security Alliance for the 21st Century: Cornerstone of Democracy, Peace and Prosperity for Our Future Generations (Tokyo: Overseas Public Relations Division Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1996), 3 –14. 109.  Peter Katzenstein and Nobuo Okawara, “Japan’s National Security: Structures, Norms, and Policies,” International Security 17, no. 4 (1993): 84 –118 [92]. 110.  Katzenstein and Okawara, “Japan’s National Security,” 92. 111.  Stephanie C. Hofmann and Andrew I. Yeo, “Business as Usual: The Role of Norms in Alliance Management,” European Journal of International Relations 21, no. 2 (2015): 377–401. 112.  Maria Castro-Guevara, ed., The Bases Talks Reader: Key Documents of the 1990 –91 Philippine-American Cooperation Talks (Manila: Anvil, 1997). 113.  Yeo, Activists, Alliances, and Anti-US Base Protests, 44. 114.  Press Statement of Secretary Alfredo R. A. Bengzon on the Withdrawal of the Notice of Termination and the Call for a Referendum on the Treaty, Department of Health, Manila, September 21, 1991, in Castro-Guevara, Bases Talks Reader, 105. 115.  See Press Statement of Secretary Alfredo R. A. Bengzon on the Withdrawal of the Notice of Termination and the Call for a Referendum on the Treaty, in Castro-Guevara, Bases Talks Reader, 105.

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116.  Richard Armitage, “US Will Abide by Philippine Decision on Subic,” Testimony before the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Asian and Pacific Affairs, September 25, 1991, in Castro-Guevara, Bases Talks Reader, 478. 117.  CQ Press, “Philippine Base Closings, 1991–1992 Legislative Chronology,” in Congress and the Nation, 1991–1992 (Washington, DC: CQ Press 1993), 8:89 –92. 118.  Senate Legislative Publications Staff, Bases of Their Decisions, 53. 119.  Renato Cruz de Castro, “The Revitalized Philippine-US Security Relations: A Ghost from the Cold War or an Alliance for the 21st Century?” Asian Survey 43, no. 6 (2003): 971– 88 [971]. 120.  Cruz de Castro, 979. Balikatan, translated as “shoulder-to-shoulder,” are annual joint exercises to improve combat planning, combat readiness, and interoperability in support of the 1951 Mutual Defense Treaty. The exercises had been suspended since 1993 but resumed in 2000 with 2,500 US troops. 121.  William J. Clinton, “Remarks to the Korean National Assembly in Seoul,” July 10, 1993, available at the website of the American Presidency Project, http://​www​.presidency​ .ucsb​.edu/​ws/​?pid​=​46829. 122.  Quoted in Leifer, ASEAN Regional Forum, 24. 123.  Examples include disaster relief following the Indonesian tsunami in 2004 and heightened tensions in the South China Sea in 2010.

chapter 4  Rising Regionalism: 1998 –2007 1.  Gilbert Rozman provides five indicators of regional integration that I adopt here as a measure of proof that regional trends are moving forward rather than backward. These five indicators include rapidly increasing economic ties, increased social integration, shared consciousness of regional identity, growing political ties, and a widening security agenda. See Rozman, Northeast Asia’s Stunted Regionalism, 6. 2.  WTO and IDE-JETRO, Trade Patterns and Global Value Chains in East Asia: From Trade in Goods to Trade in Tasks (Geneva: World Trade Organization, 2011), 66. 3.  Christopher M. Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” International Affairs 89, no. 4 (2013): 963 – 85 [965]. 4.  Guillaume Gaulier, Françoise Lemoine, and Deniz Ünal-Kesenci, “China’s Emergence and the Reorganisation of Trade Flows in Asia,” China Economic Review 18, no. 3 (2007): 209 – 43; Alyson Ma and Ari Van Assche, “China’s Role in Global Production Networks,” Social Science Research Network, October 12, 2011, 67, available at http://​ ssrn​.com/​abstract​=2​ 179940. 5.  Hyun-Hoon Lee, Hyeon-Seung Huh, and Donghyun Park, “Financial Integration in East Asia: An Empirical Investigation” (ADB Economic Working Paper Series, no. 259, Manila, Asian Development Bank, 2011), 1–25 [1]. Other scholars such as Amy Searight have argued that by the mid-2000s, more than half of all East Asian trade occurred within the region, a level of interregional trade surpassed only by the European Union. See Amy Searight, “Emerging Economic Architecture in Asia: Opening or Insulating the Region?” in Michael J. Green and Bates Gil, eds., Asia’s New Multilateralism: Cooperation, Competition, and the Search for Community (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009): 193 –242 [194]. In contrast, scholars such as John Ravenhill have taken a skeptical approach to trade data. Aside from an initial burst of increased intraregional trade between 1990 and 1995, Ravenhill argues that increases thereafter were relatively insignificant. Additionally, Raven-

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hill disputes a report from the Asian Development Bank touting greater intraregional trade in Asia relative to Europe and North America on three grounds: first, aggregate data includes trade between China and Hong Kong, which skews intraregional trade upward; second, trade within production networks leads to “substantial double-counting of the value of goods); and third, the destination of finished products are exported to markets in Europe and North America, not in Asia. See John Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism: Much Ado about Nothing?” Review of International Studies 35, no. S1 (2009): 215 –35 [234]; John Ravenhill, “Production Networks in Asia,” in Saadia M. Pekkanen, John Ravenhill, and Rosemary Foot, eds., Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 348 –70 [358]. 6.  Masahiro Kawai and Ganeshan Wignaraja, Patterns of Free Trade Areas in Asia (Honolulu, HI: East-West Center, 2013), 2. 7.  Vinod Aggarwal, Free Trade Agreement Networks in East Asia (Seoul: East Asia Institute Smart Q&A, July 11, 2013), 2; Mireya Solís, Barbara Stallings, and Saori N. Katada, eds., Competitive Regionalism: FTA Diffusion in the Pacific Rim (Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009). 8.  Calculations were made using the eight largest countries of the ASEAN + 3 (China, Japan, Korea, Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, Philippines). Lee, Huh, and Park, “Financial Integration in East Asia,” 21–22. 9.  Searight, “Emerging Economic Architecture in Asia,” 230. 10.  Frost, Asia’s New Regionalism, 172; Searight, “Emerging Economic Architecture in Asia,” 234. 11.  WTO-ITE-JETRO, Trade Patterns and Global Value Chains in East Asia, 68. 12.  Rupa Chanda, Migration between South and Southeast Asia: Overview of Trends and Issues (Singapore, Institute for South Asian Studies 2012), 1–20 [3]. 13.  Chanda, Migration between South and Southeast Asia, 11. 14.  Stephen Castles and Mark J. Miller, The Age of Migration: International Population Movements in the Modern World (New York: Guilford Press, 2009). 15.  Despite social and economic benefits for both sending and receiving countries, Asian governments on the whole retain strict control of migration and fall short in protecting migrants’ rights. Access to health care, housing, education, and other government and social services may be limited. Migrants also face negative stereotypes and xenophobia from host societies. As a UNESCAP report states, “In Asia and the Pacific, there is a perception that migrants threaten the country’s culture and heritage, even though migrants mainly originate from neighboring countries with similar cultures.” See UNESCAP, “International Migration and Development in Asia and the Pacific,” November 2013, 4. 16.  Terrie Walmsley, Angel Aguiar, and S. Amer Ahmed, “Labor Migration and Economic Growth in East and Southeast Asia” (Policy Research Working Paper No. 6643, Washington, DC, World Bank East Asia and the Pacific Region, Office of the Chief Economist, October 2013), 2. 17.  Despite relatively low levels of labor mobility in the past, the Asian Development Bank does cite an increase in mobility in the future. See ADB, Institutions for Regional Integration, 43. 18.  Japan Student Services Organization, “International Students in Japan, 2009,” http://​www​.jasso​.go​.jp/​statistics/​intl​_student/​data09​_e​.html. 19.  Jiangsu Education, Statistical Report for Foreign Students in China in 2012, http://​ www​.admissions​.cn/​news/​364282​.shtml.

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20.  “Global Flow of Tertiary Students,” UNESCO Institute for Statistics, http://​www​ .uis​.unesco​.org/​Education/​Pages/​international​-student​-flow​-viz​.aspx. 21.  Anne-Marie Slaughter, “Power and Legitimacy of Government Networks,” available at http://​www​.princeton​.edu/​~slaughtr/​Articles/​GovtNetworks​.pdf. Also see AnneMarie Slaughter, A New World Order (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2004). 22.  David Martin Jones and Michael L. R. Smith, “Constructing Communities: The Curious Case of East Asian Regionalism,” Review of International Studies 33, no. 1 (2007): 165 – 86; David Martin Jones and Mark Smith, “Making Process, Not Progress: ASEAN  and the Evolving East Asian Regional Order,” International Security 32, no. 1 (2007): 148 – 84. 23.  Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism,” 235. 24.  Asian Development Bank, Institutions for Regional Integration, 83. 25.  Richard Stubbs, “ASEAN Plus Three: Emerging East Asian Regionalism?” Asian Survey 42 (2002): 440 –55 [446]; Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism,” 215. 26.  ASEAN, Interview of Ambassador Rodolfo C. Severino Jr., Secretary-General of ASEAN, Philippine Graphic Magazine, November 29, 1999, http://​www​.asean​.org/​news/​ item/​thinking​-asean​-interview​-of​-ambassador​-rodolfo​-c​-severino​-jr​-secretary​-general​-of​ -asean​-by​-the​-philippine​-graphic​-magazine​-november​-29​-1999​-2. 27.  Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism,” 215. 28.  Jones and Smith, “Constructing Communities,” 171. 29.  Kevin Cai, “Is a Free Trade Zone Emerging in Northeast Asia in the Wake of the Asian Financial Crisis?” Pacific Affairs 74, no. 1 (2001): 7–24 [11]; Jones and Smith, “Constructing Communities,” 171. 30.  Quoted in Jones and Smith, “Constructing Communities,” 171. 31.  Calder and Ye, Making of Northeast Asia; Vinod Aggarwal and Min Gyo Koo, “An Institutional Path: Community Building in Northeast Asia,” in G. John Ikenberry and Chung-in Moon, eds., The United States and Northeast Asia: Debates, Issues, and New Order (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008), 285 –308. 32.  Stubbs, “ASEAN Plus Three,” 442. 33.  Stubbs, “ASEAN Plus Three,” 443. 34.  Singapore’s prime minister Goh Chok Tong had already suggested inviting Japan, China, and South Korea to an informal ASEAN summit meeting at the Fifth ASEAN Summit in Bangkok in 1995, but no agreement was made until January 1997, when Japanese Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto proposed a Japan-ASEAN summit. See Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 153. 35.  Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 153. 36.  Interview with former ASEAN secretary-general Rodolfo Severino, Singapore, June 10, 2014. 37.  The heads of governments of the APT convened at the second informal ASEAN Summit in Kuala Lumpur on December 15, 1997. See Joint Statement of the Heads of State/Government of the Member States of ASEAN on the Financial Situation Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, http://​asean​.org/​?static​_post​=​joint​-statement​-of​-the​-heads​-of​ -stategovernment​-of​-the​-member​-states​-of​-asean​-on​-the​-financial​-situation​-kuala​-lumpur​ -malaysia​-15​-december​-1997. 38.  Hanoi Declaration of the Sixth ASEAN Summit, December 16, 1998, http://​asean​ .org/​?static​_post​=​ha​-noi​-declaration​-of​-1998​-16​-december​-1998. 39.  See ASEAN Plus Three webpage overview, at http://​asean​.org/​storage/​2017/​06/​ Overview​-of​-APT​-Cooperation​-Jun​-2017​.pdf.

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40.  ASEAN Secretariat, “Joint Statement on East Asian Cooperation” November 28, 1999, in APT Document Series 1999 –2004. 41.  ASEAN Secretariat, Joint Statement on East Asian Cooperation” November 28, 1999, in APT Document Series 1999 –2004. 42.  Stubbs, “ASEAN Plus Three,” 449. 43.  Press Statement by the Chairman of the 8th ASEAN Summit; Sixth ASEAN + 3 Summit, and ASEAN-China Summit, November 4, 2002, in APT Document Series 1999 –2004. 44.  Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism,” 219. 45.  Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism,” 219. 46.  ASEAN, “Final Report of the East Asia Study Group,” ASEAN + 3 Summit, Phnom Penh, Cambodia, November 4, 2002, 4. Not to be mistaken with the East Asia Vision Group (EAVG), the East Asia Study Group (EASG) assessed the recommendations of the EAVG as well as the implications of holding an East Asia Summit. Whereas the EAVG consisted of eminent intellectuals, the EASG was established in March 2001 with government officials as members. The EASG submitted its final report to the APT Summit in Cambodia in 2002. See the Executive Summary of the EASG Final Report. 47.  ASEAN, “Final Report of the East Asia Study Group,” 4. 48.  Jones and Smith, “Constructing Communities,” 171. 49.  EAVG Report, 17. 50.  EASG Report, 5. 51.  EASG Report, 8. 52.  Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 169. 53.  ASEAN Secretariat, “Chairman’s Statement of the Eighth ASEAN + 3 Summit,” November 29, 2004, in APT Document Series 1999 –2004. 54.  Ralf Emmers, Joseph Chinyong Liow, and See Seng Tan, The East Asia Summit and the Regional Security Architecture (Baltimore: University of Maryland School of Law, 2011), 24. 55.  Emmers, East Asia Summit and the Regional Security Architecture, 23. 56.  Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 169. 57.  Emmers, East Asia Summit and the Regional Security Architecture, 23; Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 171. 58.  Ravenhill, “East Asian Regionalism,” 230. 59.  Kuala Lumpur Declaration on the East Asia Summit, Kuala Lumpur, December 14, 2005, http://​www​.mofa​.go​.jp/​region/​asia​-paci/​eas/​joint0512​.html. 60.  Alan Burns, “US Joins East Asia Summit: Implications for Regional Cooperation: An Interview with Ann Marie Murphy, National Bureau of Asian Research, November 17, 2011. 61.  However, the question of US participation in the EAS would become increasingly salient by the late 2000s, with the Vietnamese government inviting Hillary Clinton as an observer in 2010. The United States would officially join the EAS in 2011. 62.  Kuala Lumpur Declaration on the East Asia Summit. 63.  Kuala Lumpur Declaration on the East Asia Summit. 64.  Chairman’s Statement of the First East Asia Summit, Kuala Lumpur, December 14, 2005, http://​asean​.org/​?static​_post​=​chairman​-s​-statement​-of​-the​-first​-east​-asia​-summit​ -kuala​-lumpur​-14 –december-2005-2. 65.  Chairman’s Statement of the First East Asia Summit. 66.  Chairman’s Statement of the First East Asia Summit.

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67.  Deepak Nair, “Regionalism in the Asia Pacific/East Asia: A Frustrated Regionalism?” Contemporary Southeast Asia 31, no. 1 (2009): 110 –42 [113]. 68.  Kuala Lumpur Declaration on the East Asia Summit. 69.  Nair, “Regionalism in the Asia Pacific/East Asia,” 120. 70.  Dent, East Asian Regionalism, 172 – 75; Kai He, Institutional Balancing in the AsiaPacific. 71.  Yoichi Funabashi, The Peninsula Question: A Chronicle of the Second Korean Nuclear Crisis (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2007), 403. 72.  Rather than assess the efficacy of the SPT, I use this multilateral forum as a prism to examine the process of institution building in Asia and its implications for the shape and direction of Northeast Asia’s regional security architecture. For detailed accounts of the Six-Party Talks, see Leszek Buszynski, Negotiating with North Korea: The Six Party Talks and the Nuclear Issue (Oxon: Routledge, 2013); Charles L. Pritchard, Failed Diplomacy: The Tragic Story of How North Korea Got the Bomb (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2007); Funabashi, Peninsula Question; Christopher R. Hill. Outpost: Life on the Frontlines of American Diplomacy, a Memoir (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2014). 73.  KEDO was founded by the US, Japan, and South Korea in 1995 to help implement conditions of the 1994 Agreed Framework between the United States and North Korea. In return for freezing and ultimately dismantling its nuclear program, the US would provide two light-water nuclear reactors and five hundred thousand metric tons of heavy fuel oil annually until the completion of the first reactor. 74.  Scott Snyder, The Korean Peninsula Energy Development Organization: Implications for Northeast Asian Regional Security Cooperation? (Vancouver: Program on Canada-Asia Policy Studies, Institute of Asian Research, University of British Columbia, 2000). 75.  ASEAN, ARF Document Series 1994 –2006; “Co-Chairs’ Summary Report of the Meeting of ARF Intersessional Support Group on Confidence Building Measures,” Wellington, New Zealand, November 20 –22, 2002. As the report states, ARF participants also “recognized the importance of inter-Korean and Japan-North Korea dialogues as channels to pursue peaceful resolution to outstanding security concerns in the area.” 76.  Condoleezza Rice, No Higher Honor: A Memoir of My Years in Washington (New York: Crown Publishers, 2011), 249, 349, 523. Thus when Colin Powell reported to President Bush that multilateral negotiations would begin with just a trilateral meeting between the US, China, and North Korea, the president made direct calls to Prime Minister Koizumi and President Roh Moo-hyun to apologize for not being able to include Japan and South Korea in the first meeting. However, tensions would also erupt between alliance partners over different preferences and priorities in persuading North Korea to comply with agreements. See Funabashi, Peninsula Question, 274. 77.  James Dao, “Powell Seeks China’s Help and, at UN, Its Abstention,” New York Times. February 24, 2003. 78.  Funabashi, Peninsula Question, 272. 79.  Goh, Struggle for Order, 95. 80.  Joint Statement of the Fourth Round of the Six-Party Talks, September 19, 2005, available at http://​www​.ncnk​.org/​resources/​publications/​September​_19​_2005​_Joint​ _Statement​.doc/​file​_view. 81.  US State Department, Background Note: North Korea, http://​www​.state​.gov/​r /​pa/​ ei/​bgn/​2792​.htm. 82.  Gilbert Rozman, “Post–Cold War Evolution of Chinese Thinking on Regional Institutions in Northeast Asia,” Journal of Contemporary China 19, no. 66 (2010): 605 –20 [615].

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83.  Quoted in Funabashi, Peninsula Question, 403. 84.  Rice, No Higher Honor, 349, 521. 85.  Rozman, “Post–Cold War Evolution of Chinese Thinking,” 615. 86.  Francis Fukuyama, “Re-Envisioning Asia,” Foreign Affairs 84, no. 1 (2005): 75 – 87. 87.  Gregory J. Moore, “America’s Failed North Korea Nuclear Policy: A New Approach,” Asian Perspective 32, no. 4 (2008): 20. 88.  Funabashi, Peninsula Question; Buszynski, Negotiating with North Korea; Pritchard, Failed Diplomacy; Hill, Outpost; Cha, Impossible State. 89.  Evelyn Goh points to two different interpretations of the SPT, the first representing a power-sharing or joint stakeholder model, and the second representing Washington subcontracting its diplomatic work multilaterally. While these interpretations are not mutually exclusive, my arguments subscribe to the first logic. See Goh, Struggle for Order, 92 –93. 90.  Interview with senior official at South Korean MOFA, Seoul, South Korea, June 17, 2014; interview with senior official, Singapore Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Washington, DC, June 4, 2014. 91.  Yeo, Activists, Alliances, and Anti-Base Protests; Katharine H. S. Moon, Protesting America: Democracy and the US-Korea Alliance (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2013). 92.  Rajan Menon, The End of Alliances (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007). 93.  Moon, Protesting America. 94.  Howard French, “American Policies and Presence Are under Fire in South Korea, Straining an Alliance,” New York Times, December 8, 2002. 95.  Howard French, “Seoul May Loosen Its Ties to the US,” New York Times, December 20, 2002. 96.  David I. Steinberg, Korean Attitudes toward the United States: Changing Dynamics (Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe, 2005), 269, 276. 97.  Gordon Flake, The Rise, Fall, and Transformation of the “386”: Generational Change in Korea, 2008 (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research), 99 –122. 98.  Seung-Hwan Kim, “Anti-Americanism in Korea,” Washington Quarterly 26, no. 1 (2002): 109. 99.  Steinberg, Korean Attitudes toward the United States, 56. 100.  Kurt M. Campbell, “The End of Alliances? Not So Fast,” Washington Quarterly 27, no. 2 (2004): 159. 101.  Scott Snyder, “South Korea’s Squeeze Play,” Washington Quarterly 28, no. 4 (2005): 95. 102.  Jonathan Pollack, “The United States, North Korea, and the End of the Agreed Framework,” Naval War College Review 56, no. 3 (2003): 26. 103.  South Korea eventually joined the PSI in 2009. 104.  Pollack, “United States, North Korea, and the End of the Agreed Framework,” 11. 105.  Andrew Yeo, Activists, Alliances, and Anti-US Base Protests (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 124 –26. 106.  However, OPCON transfer was again delayed following tensions between North and South Korea in 2010. In the latest iteration (as of late 2018), both sides have agreed to make OPCON transfer “conditions based” rather than set a specific date. 107.  The clause reads, “In the implementation of strategic flexibility, the United States respects the ROK position that it shall not be involved in a regional conflict in Northeast

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Asia against the will of the Korean people.” See US Department of State Washington File, “US–South Korea Relationship Enters New Era, State Says,” EPF502, January 20, 2006, https://​japan2​.usembassy​.gov/​e /​p/​2006/​tp​-20060123​-15​.html. 108.  White House, Office of the Press Secretary, “Joint Vision for the Alliance of the United States of America and the Republic of Korea,” June 16, 2009, https://​ obamawhitehouse​. archives​. gov/​t he​- press​- office/​j oint​- vision​- alliance​- united​- states​ -america​-and​-republic​-korea/. 109.  Catharin E. Dalpino, An Old Alliance for the New Century: Reinvigorating the USThailand Alliance (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, June 2012), 4. 110.  Lewis M. Stern, Diverging Roads 21st-Century US-Thai Defense Relations (Washington, DC: Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defense University, June 2009), 1. 111.  Paul Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11: A New Era in Cooperation?” Contemporary Southeast Asia 26, no. 3 (2004): 461. 112.  Emma Chanlett-Avery and Ben Dolven, Thailand Background and US Relations (Washington, DC: Congressional Information Service, Library of Congress, June 2014), 6. 113.  Consequently, many in the Thai military during the mid-2000s remained supportive of US-Thai relations. See Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 475. 114.  Dalpino, Old Alliance for the New Century, 3. 115.  Chanlett-Avery and Dolven, Thailand Background and US Relations, 6; Dalpino, Old Alliance for the New Century, 3. 116.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 461. 117.  Stern, Diverging Roads, 3. 118.  Stern, Diverging Roads, 2. 119.  US Congress, “Senate Caucus on International Narcotics Control, US International Drug Policy—Asian Gangs, Heroin, and the Drug Trade: Joint Hearing before the Committee on the Judiciary and the Caucus on International Narcotics Control of the United States Senate,” August 21, 1990. 120.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 462. 121.  Stern, Diverging Roads, 4. 122.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 466. 123.  Sheldon Simon, “US-Southeast Asia Relations: Mixed Reactions in Southeast Asia to the US War on Terrorism,” Comparative Connections 3, no. 4 (2002): 1–9. 124.  See remarks by Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs James Kelly, who speaks of US-Thai relations in mostly glowing terms. James A. Kelly, “USThai Relations after September 11, 2001,” remarks to Asia Foundation Luncheon, March 13, 2002, http://​2001​-2009​.state​.gov/​p/​eap/​rls/​rm/​2002/​8806​.htm. 125.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 466. 126.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 467. 127.  Raymond Bonner, “Thailand Tiptoes in Step with the American Anti-Terror Effort,” New York Times, June 8, 2003, http://​www​.nytimes​.com/​2003/​06/​08/​world/​threats​ -responses​-southeast​-asia​-thailand​-tiptoes​-step​-with​-american​-antiterror​.html. 128.  Bonner, “Thailand Tiptoes in Step with the American Anti-Terror Effort.” 129.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 469. 130.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 470. 131.  Chambers, “US-Thai Relations after 9/11,” 470. 132.  Stern, Diverging Roads, 9.

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133.  In Evelyn Goh’s view, this renegotiation process constituted the legitimization of existing unequal relationships in East Asia. See Goh, Struggle for Order, 19. 134.  Dalpino, Old Alliance for the New Century, 9. 135.  The shift in China’s attitude toward regional multilateralism is noted in David Shambaugh, “China Engages Asia: Reshaping the Regional Order,” International Security 29, no. 3 (2005): 64 –99 [68 –70]. The positions of ASEAN, Japan, and South Korea have been noted throughout this chapter. 136.  On this point, see Jones and Smith, “Constructing Communities.”

chapter 5  Complex Patchwork: 2008 –2017 1.  I actually see this shift taking place in 2008 following the Beijing Olympics. Others such as David Shambaugh mark China’s growing assertiveness as late as 2010. See David L. Shambaugh, China Goes Global: The Partial Power (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 4. 2.  Daniel Lak, “Emerging from history’s humiliation,” CBC News, August 6, 2008, http://​www​.cbc​.ca/​news/​world/​emerging​-from​-history​-s​-humiliation​-1​.754703; Alice Wu, “China Must Lay to Rest Its Victim Mindset over ‘Century of Humiliation,” South China Morning Post, July 5, 2015, http://​www​.scmp​.com/​comment/​insight​-opinion/​ article/​1831982/​china​-must​-lay​-rest​-its​-victim​-mindset​-over​-century​?page​=​all. 3.  David Janoff Bulman, “China and the Financial Crisis,” Stanford Journal of East Asian Affairs 10, no. 2 (2010): 20 –38 [21]. For dissenting views from economists, see Linyue Li, Thomas D. Willett, and Nan Zhang, “The Effects of the Global Financial Crisis on China’s Financial Market and Macroeconomy,” Economics Research International (2012): 1– 6. 4.  Alastair Iain Johnston, “How New and Assertive Is China’s New Assertiveness?” International Security 37, no. 4 (2013): 7. Johnston argues that the media has overplayed the new China “assertive meme.” Although this may be the case, more important here is the perception from elites in Washington and in Asian capitals that China has behaved in a more assertive manner in the late 2000s. 5.  The Obama administration argued that the strategic balance represents a “positive agenda of engagement and reassurance” to allies fearing US retrenchment in Asia, not an agenda to contain China. See James Steinberg, “2012 —A Watershed Year for East Asia?” Asia Policy, no. 14 ( July 2012): 21–49 [23]. For arguments that interpret the rebalance as a muscular stand against Chinese assertiveness, see Robert S. Ross, “Balance of Power Politics and the Rise of China: Accommodation and Balancing in East Asia,” Security Studies 15, no. 3 (2013): 355 –95. 6.  Tom Donilon, “President Obama’s Asia Policy and Upcoming Trip to the Region,” speech at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, November 15, 2012, http://​ csis​.org/​files/​attachments/​121511​_Donilon​_Statesmens​_Forum​_TS​.pdf. 7.  See Office of the Secretary of Defense, “Sustaining US Global Leadership: Priorities for 21st Century Defense,” January 2012, http://​www​.defense​.gov/​news/​Defense​ _Strategic​_Guidance​.pdf. 8.  Robert G. Sutter, Michael E. Brown, Timothy J. A. Adamson, Mike M. Mochizuki, and Deepa Ollapally, Balancing Acts: The US Rebalance and Asia-Pacific Stability (Washington, DC: Sigur Center for Asian Studies, Elliott School of International Affairs, 2013), 2; Ely Ratner, Resident Power: Building a Politically Sustainable US Military Presence in Southeast Asia and Australia (Washington, DC: Center for New American Security, 2013).

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9.  I use pivot and strategic rebalance interchangeably. The Obama administration initially used the term pivot, but the following year, it began articulating the term strategic rebalance instead. Kurt Campbell, the former assistant secretary of state for East Asian and Pacific Affairs who helped coin the term pivot stated that the “tug-of-war over appropriate terminology” reflected bureaucratic differences between the State Department and the National Security Council and their “jockeying for credit” in coining Asia policy. See Kurt M. Campbell, The Pivot: The Future of American Statecraft in Asia (New York: Twelve, 2016), 29 –30. 10.  Hofmann and Yeo, “Business as Usual.” 11.  Paul Dibb, US-Australia Alliance Relations: An Australian View (Washington, DC: Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defense University, 2005), 1. 12.  William Perry, “The US and Australia: Strengthening Our Alliance for the Post– Cold War Era,” remarks following Australia-US Ministerial Conference, Sydney, Australia, July 27, 1996. 13.  This point is addressed in Australia’s foreign policy white paper. See Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, Advancing the National Interest: Australia’s Foreign and Trade Policy White Paper (Canberra: DFAT, 2003), xvi. On norms and alliance management, see Hofmann and Yeo, “Business as Usual.” 14.  Alexander Downer, “The US and Australia: Strengthening Our Alliance for the Post – Cold War Era,” remarks following Australia-US Ministerial Conference, Sydney, Australia, July 27, 1996, http://​heinonline​.org/​HOL/ ​LandingPage​?handle​=​hein​ .journals/​dsptch16​&​div​=​229​&​id​=​&p​ age=. 15.  Downer, “US and Australia.” 16.  Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, “Australia–United States: A Strategic Partnership for the Twenty-first Century,” July 31, 1998, http://​dfat​.gov​.au/​geo/​ united​-states​-of​-america/​ausmin/​Pages/​australia​-united​-states​-ministerial​-consultations​ -1998​-joint​-communiqu​.aspx. 17.  Peter Edwards, Permanent Friends? Historical Reflections on the Australian-American Alliance, (New South Wales, Australia: Lowy Institute for International Policy 2005), 47. 18.  John Howard, Lazarus Rising: A Personal and Political Autobiography (Sydney: Harper Collins, 2010), 377–92. 19.  “Howard Government Invokes ANZUS Treaty,” Australian Politics, September 14, 2001, http://​australianpolitics​.com/​2001/​09/​14/​howard​-government​-invokes​-anzus​-treaty​ .html. 20.  Prime Minister Rudd also spoke fluent Mandarin. 21.  Graeme Dobell, “The Rudd Foreign Policy Legacy,” The Interpreter, June 24, 2010, http://​www​.lowyinterpreter​.org/​post/​2010/​06/​24/ ​The​-Rudd​-foreign​-policy​-legacy​.aspx​ ?COLLCC​=​210492239&. On the Labor Party’s commitment to the US alliance, also see Bruce Vaughn, Australia: Background and US Relations (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2012), 7. 22.  Dobell, “Rudd Foreign Policy Legacy.” 23.  China and ASEAN were both reluctant to see a Western leader take charge of Asian regionalism. 24.  Paul Kelly, “Deeper US Alliance in Response to Strident China,” The Australian, November 10, 2010. 25.  Julia Gillard, “Speech to US Congress,” March 10, 2011, http://​www​.sbs​.com​.au/​ news/​article/​2011/​03/​10/​transcript​-julia​-gillards​-speech​-congress. 26.  Gillard, “Speech to US Congress.”

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27.  White House, Office of Press Secretary, “Remarks by President Obama to the Australian Parliament,” November 17, 2011, https://​obamawhitehouse​.archives​.gov/​the​-press​ -office/​2011/​11/​17/​remarks​-president​-obama​-australian​-parliament. 28.  White House, “Remarks by President Obama.” 29.  Hillary Clinton, “America’s Pacific Century,” Foreign Policy 189 (November 2011): 57– 63. 30.  Clinton, “America’s Pacific Century.” 31.  White House, “Remarks by President Obama.” 32.  “Lowy Poll 2012: Strong Support for US Marines in Australia,” Lowy Institute, June 5, 2012, http://​www​.lowyinstitute​.org/​news​-and​-media/​hot​-topic/​lowy​-poll​ -2012 –strong-support-us-marines-australia. 33.  James Brown, “Australia’s Election, the US Alliance and the Pivot,” Real Clear Defense (blog), September 12, 2013. 34.  Australia Department of Foreign Affairs, “AUSMIN 2014 Joint Communiqué,” August 12, 2014. 35.  Australia Department of Foreign Affairs, “AUSMIN 2014 Joint Communiqué.” 36.  Australia Department of Foreign Affairs, “AUSMIN 2014 Joint Communiqué.” Also see Kevin Placek, “The Australia-US Alliance Grows Ever Closer,” The Diplomat, August 16, 2014. 37.  Renato Cruz de Castro, “The Revitalized Philippine-US Security Relations: A Ghost from the Cold War or an Alliance for the 21st Century?” Asian Survey 43, no. 6 (2003): 971. 38.  As Sheena Greitens argues, the US-Philippines alliance has “shown some of the greatest development among the United States’ Asian alliances” in recent years. See Greitens, “The US Alliance with the Philippines: Opportunities and Challenges,” in Ashley J. Tellis, Abraham M. Denmark, Greg Chaffin, eds., Strategic Asia 2014 –15: US Alliances and Partnerships at the Center of Global Power (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2014), 119 –45. 39.  US Embassy in Manila, “Clinton on Manila Declaration,” November 30, 2011, https://​editorials​.voa​.gov/​a /​clinton​-on​-manila​-declaration​-134826743/​1482849​.html. 40.  US Department of State, “Signing of the Manila Declaration on Board the USS Fitzgerald in Manila Bay, Manila, Philippines,” November 16, 2011, https://​2009​-2017​ .state​.gov/​r /​pa/​prs/​ps/​2011/​11/​177226​.htm. 41.  Ernest Z. Bower and Gregory B. Poling, “Implications and Results: United States– Philippines Ministerial Dialogue” CSIS Critical Questions, May 4, 2012, http://​csis​.org/​ publication/​implications​-and​-results​-united​-states​-philippines​-ministerial​-dialogue. 42.  Renato Cruz de Castro, “The US-Philippines Alliance: Moving beyond Bilateralism?” in William T. Tow and Brendan Taylor, eds., Bilateralism, Multilateralism and AsiaPacific Security: Contending Cooperation (London: Routledge, 2013), 56. 43.  Bower and Poling, “Implications and Results.” 44.  Bower and Poling, “Implications and Results.” 45.  For a discussion on economic and nonmilitary cooperation, see Greitens, “US Alliance with the Philippines,” 135 –36. 46.  US Department of State, “Joint Statement of the United States–Philippines Ministerial Dialogue,” April 30, 2012. 47.  Bowser and Poling, “Implications and Results.” Manila’s announcement may have been public posturing more than anything else. Qualitatively, the increase was fairly modest given that foreign military financing to the Philippine experienced a significant drop

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in 2011. The 2012 dollar amount was more consistent with funding amounts provided between 2008 and 2010. See Thomas Lum and Ben Dolven, The Republic of the Philippines and US Interests—2014 (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2014), 9. 48.  Craig Whitlock, “Philippines May Allow Greater US Military Presence in Reaction to China’s Rise,” Washington Post, January 24, 2012. 49.  US Department of State, “Joint Statement of the United States–Philippines Ministerial Dialogue,” April 30, 2012. 50.  Babe Romualdez, “Babe’s Eye View: Thank God for the United States!” Philippines Star, November 17, 2013. 51.  Thomas Lum and Rhoda Margesson, Typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda): US and International Response to Philippines Disaster (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2014). 52.  Tarra Quismundo, “Storm Showed We Need US-Del Rosario,” Philippines Daily Inquirer, November 26, 2013, http://​newsinfo​.inquirer​.net/​534439/​del​-rosario​-eyes​-larger​ -us​-military​-presence. 53.  Quismundo, “Storm Showed We Need US-Del Rosario.” 54.  US Department of State, “Agreement between the Government of the Republic of the Philippines and the Government of the United States of America on Enhanced Defense Cooperation,” https://​www​.state​.gov/​documents/​organization/​244799​.pdf. 55.  US Department of State, “Agreement between the Government of the Republic of the Philippines and the Government of the United States.” In fact, the original agreement was referred to as the “Increased Rotational Presence Framework Agreement” but later changed to “Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement” to reflect broader areas of cooperation between the US and Philippines. 56.  Lum and Dolven, Republic of the Philippines and US Interests, 15. 57.  Carl Thayer, “Analyzing the US-Philippines Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement,” The Diplomat, May 2, 2014. 58.  US Department of State, “Agreement between the Government of the Republic of the Philippines and the Government of the United States.” Also see a fact sheet produced by the Philippines Department of Foreign Affairs, at http://​www​.gov​.ph/​2014/​04/​28/​qna​ -on​-the​-enhanced​-defense​-cooperation​-agreement/. The goal of this fact sheet was less about facts and more about allaying any fears that the agreement would violate Philippine law or pave the way for permanent bases. 59.  Ankit Panda, “US-Philippines Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement Bolsters ‘Pivot to Asia,’” The Diplomat, April 20, 2014; Richard Heydarian, “Philippine-US Security Pact: Implications for the Pivot and the South China Sea,” The Interpreter, Lowy Institute, May 7, 2014, http://​www​.lowyinterpreter​.org/​post/​2014/​05/​07/​New​-Philippine​-US​ -Security​-Pact​-pivot​-south​-china​-sea​.aspx​?COLLCC​=​1701247711&. 60.  Philippine Foreign Secretary Albert del Rosario, quoted in Amita Legaspi, “US, PHL Sign Agreement for Increased US Troop Presence,” GMA News, April 28. 2014. 61.  White House, Office of the Press Secretary, “Remarks by President Obama and President Benigno Aquino III of the Philippines in Joint Press Conference,” April 28, 2014, https://​obamawhitehouse​.archives​.gov/​the​-press​-office/​2014/​04/​28/​remarks​ -president​-obama​-and​-president​-benigno​-aquino​-iii​-philippines​-joi. 62.  Eleanor Albert, “The US-Philippines Defense Alliance,” CFR Backgrounder, October 21, 2016; Emily Rauhaula, “Duterte Plays a Winning Hand with Foreign Policy, but Will His Luck Run Out?” Washington Post, March 27, 2017. 63.  For instance, Duterte called for a review of the recently signed Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement, threatening US rights to Philippine basing access. See Simon

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Denyer, “Philippine Leader Duterte Now Wants US Troops out ‘in the Next Two Years,’” Washington Post, October 26, 2016. On Duterte’s backtracking on comments, see Emily Rauhala, “Philippines’ Duterte Called for a ‘Separation’ from US: He Is Now Backtracking,” Washington Post, October 21, 2016. 64.  Ashton Carter, “The Rebalance and Asia-Pacific Security: Building a Principled Security Network,” Foreign Affairs 95, no. 6 (2016): 73. 65.  For an overview of US–Southeast Asian relations, see Sheldon Simon, “Growing Enmeshment in Regional Affairs,” Comparative Connections 12, no. 3 (2010): http://​cc​.csis​ .org/​2010/​10/​growing​-enmeshment​-regional​-affairs/; Ratner, Resident Power. 66.  US Department of State, “United States Accedes to the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation in Southeast Asia,” July 22, 2009, http://​www​.state​.gov/​r /​pa/​prs/​ps/​2009/​july/​ 126294​.htm. 67.  Emma Chanlett-Avery, Singapore: Background and US Relations (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service 2013), 3. Changi Naval Base is the only facility in Southeast Asia capable of docking a US aircraft carrier group. 68.  Singapore Ministry of Defense, “Factsheet — The Strategic Framework Agreement,” July 12, 2005, http://​www​.mindef​.gov​.sg/​imindef/​press​_room/​official​_releases/​ nr/​2005/​jul/​12jul05​_nr/​12jul05​_fs​.html​#​.VP8xf​_nF98E. 69.  Jeffrey A. Bader, Obama and China’s Rise: An Insider’s Account of America’s Asia Strategy (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2012), 102. 70.  Matthew Stumpf, “The Singapore-US Strategic Partnership: The Global City and the Global Superpower,” in Ashley J. Tellis, Abraham M. Denmark, and Greg Chaffin, eds., Strategic Asia 2014 –15: US Alliances and Partnerships at the Center of Global Power, 227– 54 (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2014), 235. 71.  Singapore Ministry of Defense, “Singapore, US Step Up Defense Cooperation,” December 8, 2015, https://​www​.mindef​.gov​.sg/​imindef/​press​_room/​official​_releases/​nr/​ 2015/​dec/​08dec15​_nr​.html​#​.WhWuX0qnFPY. 72.  Quoted in Stumpf, “Singapore-US Strategic Partnership,” 232. A senior official in the Singapore Foreign Ministry reiterated this same position verbatim from Prime Minister Loong’s address. Interview with Senior Official, Singapore Ministry of Foreign Affairs, June 4, 2014. 73.  Stumpf, “Singapore-US Strategic Partnership,” 245. 74.  Stumpf, “Singapore-US Strategic Partnership,” 234. 75.  Stumpf, “Singapore-US Strategic Partnership,” 234. 76.  Office of the Press Secretary, US White House, “Remarks by President Obama and Prime Minister Lee of Singapore Before Bilateral Meeting,” April 2, 2013, http://​ www​.whitehouse​.gov/​the​-press​-office/​2013/​04/​02/​remarks​-president​-obama​-and​-prime​ -minister​-lee​-singapore​-bilateral​-meeti. 77.  Office of the Press Secretary, White House, “Remarks by President Obama and Prime Minister Lee of Singapore in Joint Press Conference,” August 2, 2016, https://​ obamawhitehouse​.archives​.gov/​the​-press​-office/​2016/​08/​02/​remarks​-president​-obama​ -and​-prime​-minister​-lee​-singapore​-joint​-press. 78.  Mark Manyin, US-Vietnam Relations in 2014: Current Issues and Implications for US Policy (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service 2014), 4. 79.  Manyin, US-Vietnam Relations in 2014. 80.  Manyin, US-Vietnam Relations in 2014, 22. 81.  White House, “Joint Statement by President Barack Obama of the United States of America and President Truong Tan Sang of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam,” July 25,

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2013, http://​www​.whitehouse​.gov/​the​-press​-office/​2013/​07/​25/​joint​-statement​-president​ -barack​-obama​-united​-states​-america​-and​-preside. 82.  US Department of State, “Expanded US Assistance for Maritime Capacity Building,” December 16, 2013, https://​2009​-2017​.state​.gov/​r /​pa/​prs/​ps/​2013/​218735​.htm. 83.  Patrick Cronin, “US Should Help Vietnam Counter China’s Coercion,” Asia-Pacific Bulletin (East-West Center, Washington, DC), June 26, 2014. 84.  Brian Benedictus, “US and Vietnam Should Tread Carefully on Relations,” The Diplomat, September 4, 2014, http://​thediplomat​.com/​2014/​09/​us​-and​-vietnam​-should​ -tread​-carefully​-on​-relations/. 85.  Richard Fontaine, Patrick M. Cronin, Mira Rapp-Hooper, and Harry Krejsa, Networking Asian Security (Washington, DC: Center for New American Security, 2017), 4. On developments during this period in US-Indonesia relations, see US Department of State, “US-Indonesia Fourth Joint Commission Meeting,” February 17, 2014 http://​www​.state​ .gov/​r /​pa/​prs/​ps/​2014/​02/​221714​.htm; Murray Hiebert and Jeremiah Magpile, Comprehensive Partnership Nudges US-Indonesia Relations to New Levels of Cooperation (Washington, DC: Center for International Studies, September 8, 2012), http://​csis​.org/​publication/​ comprehensive​-partnership​-nudges​-us​-indonesia​-relations​-new​-levels​-cooperation. On Malaysia, see remarks by Andrew J. Shapiro, Assistant Secretary, Bureau of Political-­ Military Affairs, “US-Malaysia Partnership,” Malaysia Armed Forces Defense College, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, February 15, 2012, http://​www​.state​.gov/​t /​pm/​rls/​rm/​184846​ .htm; Murray Hiebert, Ernest Z. Bower, Gregory B. Poling, Mahani Zainal Abidin, Elina Noor, and Tham Siew Yean, From Strength to Empowerment the Next Generation of USMalaysia Relations (Washington, DC: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2012). 86.  Patrick Cronin, Richard Fontaine, Zachary Hosford, Ely Ratner, and Alexander Sullivan, The Emerging Asia Power Web: The Rise of Bilateral Intra-Asian Security Ties (Washington, DC: Center for a New American Security, 2013), 18 –24. 87.  Cronin et al., Emerging Asia Power Web, 5. 88.  David L. Shambaugh. “China Engages Asia: Reshaping the Regional Order,” International Security 29, no. 3 (2005): 64 –99 [70]. 89.  William T. Tow, “Contingent Trilateralism? Applications for the Trilateral Security Dialogue,” in William T. Tow, ed., Asia-Pacific Security: US, Australia and Japan and the New Security Triangle (London: Routledge, 2007), 23 –38 [25]. 90.  The Center for International Studies has hosted several track two trilaterals. See Twelfth Japan-U.S.-China Conference on Trilateral Security Cooperation, April 1–2, 2008, http://​csis​.org/​event/​12th​-japan​-us​-china​-conference​-trilateral​-security​ -cooperation. 91.  Michael Green, “Strategic Asian Triangles,” in Saadia M. Pekkanen, John Ravenhill, and Rosemary Foot, eds., Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 758 –74 [769]. 92.  Interview with former National Security Council staff member, June 18, 2012. This point was corroborated in a roundtable discussion by both US and South Korean experts at Washington, DC think tank in February 2012. However, the US has proposed discussing contingency plans involving North Korea’s collapse with South Korea and China. I thank Van Jackson for raising this point. 93.  Tomoko Kiyota, “Forward Together We Go with Japan: ‘Dazzling’ US-India Rapprochement for Tokyo,” PacNet 74, October 6, 2014, https://​www​.csis​.org/​analysis/​ pacnet​-74​-forward​-together​-we​-go​-japan​-​%E2​%80​%98dazzling​%E2​%80​%99​-us​-india​ -rapprochement​-tokyo.

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94.  Green, “Strategic Asian Triangles,” 760; Prashanth Parameswaran, “Why the ‘New’ US Trilateral Dialogue with Japan and India Matters,” The Diplomat, October 1, 2015, https://​thediplomat​.com/​2015/​10/​why​-the​-new​-us​-trilateral​-dialogue​-with​-japan​-and​ -india​-matters/. 95.  Green, “Strategic Asian Triangles,” 762. 96.  Wesley, “Contingent Trilateralism,” 40. Tow, “Trilateral Strategic Dialogue,” 4. 97.  William T. Tow, Asia-Pacific Security: US, Australia, and Japan and the New Security Triangle (London: Routledge, 2007), 3. 98.  Michael Wesley, “Contingent Trilateralism? Applications for the Trilateral Security Dialogue,” in William T. Tow, ed., The Trilateral Strategic Dialogue’s Institutional Politics (London; New York: Routledge, 2007), 39 –52 [39]. 99.  Quoted in Tow, “Contingent Trilateralism,” 25. 100.  This is not to argue that trilateral relations among US bilateral alliance partners were inevitable. US, Japan, and South Korea relations counter the thesis that all trilaterals involving US alliance partners develop as a natural extension of bilateralism. 101.  Purnendra Jain, “Japan-Australia Security Ties and the United States: The Evolution of the Trilateral Dialogue Process and Its Challenges,” Australian Journal of International Affairs 60, no. 4 (2006): 521–35. 102.  Michael Auslin, “Shaping a Pacific Future: Washington’s Goal for the Trilateral Strategic Dialogue,” NBR Special Report 16 (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2008), 17. 103.  Wesley, “Contingent Trilateralism?” 41. 104.  Auslin, “Shaping a Pacific Future,” 17. 105.  Green, “Strategic Asian Triangles,” 766. There is some discrepancy as to when trilateral dialogues were first proposed. Green and others mention it was during the ARF meeting in Hanoi between July 24 and 26, 2001. However, others such as Hugh White and Brendan Taylor and Desmond Ball believe that the TSD was first publicly mentioned by Foreign Minister Downer after the July 30 AUSMIN in response to a reporters’ questions about building an Asian NATO. White goes as far to argue that the idea of holding trilaterals was more “accidental” than planned and may not have even appeared on the AUSMIN agenda. See Hugh White, “Trilateralism and Australia: Australia and the Trilateral Strategic Dialogue with America and Japan,” in William T. Tow, ed., Asia-Pacific Security: US, Australia, and Japan and the New Security Triangle (London: Routledge, 2007), 107; Brendan Taylor and Desmond Ball, “Setting the Context: Historical Overview,” in William T. Tow, ed., Asia-Pacific Security: US, Australia, and Japan and the New Security Triangle (London: Routledge, 2007), 20. 106.  Quoted in Wesley, “Contingent Trilateralism,” 41. 107.  William Tow, “The Trilateral Strategic Dialogue: Facilitating Community-Building or Revisiting Containment?” NBR Special Report 16 (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2008), December 2008, 4. 108.  Jain, “Japan-Australia Security Ties and the United States,” 526. 109.  White, “Trilateralism and Australia,” 108. 110.  Wesley, “Contingent Trilateralism,” 40. Tow, “Trilateral Strategic Dialogue,” 4. 111.  Green, “Strategic Triangles”; Tomohiko Satake, “The Origin of Trilateralism? The US–Japan–Australia Security Relations in the 1990s, International Relations of the AsiaPacific 11, no. 1 (2011): 87–114. 112.  Tow, “Trilateral Strategic Dialogue,” 4.

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113.  Wesley, “Contingent Trilateralism,” 42. 114.  Kevin Rudd, “Australia’s Perspectives on Trilateral Security Cooperation in the Western Pacific,” speech presented at the Kokoda Foundation Australia-US-Japan trilateral seminar dinner, Canberra, Australia, November 18, 2010, http://​www​.foreignminister​ .gov​.au/​speeches/​Pages/​2010/​kr​_sp​_101118a​.aspx​?ministerid​=​2. 115.  Rudd, “Australia’s Perspectives.” 116.  Rudd, “Australia’s Perspectives.” 117.  Kuniko Ashizawa, “Japan’s Emerging Trilateralism? Australia-Japan-US Security Cooperation and the US-Japan Alliance,” presentation at the East-West Center, December 16, 2009, http://​www​.eastwestcenter​.org/​ewc​-in​-washington/​events/​previous​-events​ -2009/​december​-16​-dr​-kuniko​-ashizawa​-and​-ambassador​-rust​-deming. 118.  TSD Joint Statement, October 4, 2013. 119.  Emma Chanlett-Avery and Bruce Vaughn, Emerging Trends in the Security Architecture in Asia: Bilateral and Multilateral Ties among the United States, Japan, Australia, and India, 2008 (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2008), 9. 120.  Japan Ministry of Foreign Affairs, “Japan-Australia Joint Declaration on Security Cooperation,” http://​www​.mofa​.go​.jp/​region/​asia​-paci/​australia/​joint0703​.html. 121.  The two countries signed a new ACSA in January 2017. 122.  Taylor and Ball, “Setting the Context,” 14. 123.  Rudd, “Australia’s Perspectives.” 124.  The leaders of each country carried their own expectations in agreeing to the first trilateral summit in 1999. Prime Minister Obuchi wanted the summit to address the North Korean issue, thereby increasing Japan’s role in Northeast Asian security issues. China initially responded with skepticism to trilateral cooperation. South Korea was keen on improving economic cooperation. 125.  The trilateral meeting among the three ministers of science did not take place until January 2007. 126.  Interview with TCS Secretary-General Shin Bong-kil, Seoul, South Korea, July 6, 2012. Ambassador Shin explained that an independent secretariat was not necessarily needed for an organization with only three participating countries. More than functional need, the acceptance of the TCS by all parties indicated China, Japan, and South Korea’s commitment to improved trilateral relations. 127.  Author’s interview with former NSC staff member, June 5, 2012, Washington, DC. 128.  Author’s interview with TCS official, July 6, 2012, Seoul, South Korea. 129.  For excellent overviews, see Christopher M. Dent, “Principal Developments and Future Directions in Asia’s Trade,” in Saadia M. Pekkanen, John Ravenhill, and Rosemary Foot, eds., Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 263 – 84; Shujiro Urata, “Managing Asia’s Free Trade Agreement,” in Giovanni Capannelli and Kawai Masahiro, eds., The Political Economy of Asian Regionalism (Tokyo: Springer, 2014), 59 – 84; Vinod K. Aggarwal and Seungjoo Lee, Trade Policy in the Asia-Pacific: The Role of Ideas, Interests, and Domestic Institutions (New York: Springer, 2011). 130.  Dent, “Principal Developments and Future Directions in Asia’s Trade,” 278. 131.  Data downloaded from Asian Development Bank, Asian Regional Integration Center (ARIC), http://​aric​.adb​.org/​fta. 132.  Chris Dent calculated that more than 90 percent of agreements are bilateral. See Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 973.

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133.  Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 973. 134.  Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 974. 135.  Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 974. 136.  Christopher M. Dent, “Full Circle? Ideas and Ordeals of Creating a Free Trade Area of the Asia-Pacific,” Pacific Review 20, no. 4 (2007): 447–74. 137.  Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 976. 138.  Inkyo Cheong, “Beyond the Spaghetti Bowl: The TPP and the Quest for East Asian Regionalism,” Global Asia 8, no. 1 (2013): 62. 139.  Quoted in Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 976. 140.  Zachary Torrey, “TPP 2.0: The Deal without the US,” The Diplomat, February 3, 2018. There is still the possibility that the US rejoin the TPP in the future. 141.  After US withdrawal from the TPP, the agreement was renamed the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP). 142.  Campbell, Pivot, 266 – 67. 143.  Mireya Solís, “Endgame: Challenges for the United States in finalizing the TPP Negotiations,” Kokusai Mondai, no. 622 ( June 2013): 4. 144.  Lydia DePillis, “Everything You Need to Know about the Trans Pacific Partnership,” Washington Post, December 11, 2013. Without the US, the CPTPP accounts for only 13.4 percent of global GDP. See Torrey, “TPP 2.0.” 145.  Solís, “Endgame,” 1. 146.  Solís, “Endgame,” 3. 147.  DePillis, “Everything You Need to Know about the Trans Pacific Partnership.” 148.  Jagdish Bhagwati, “America’s Threat to Trans-Pacific Trade,” Project Syndicate, December 30, 2011, http://​www​.project​-syndicate​.org/​commentary/​america​-s​-threat​-to​ -trans​-pacific​-trade. 149.  David Pilling, “It Won’t Be Easy to Build an ‘Anyone but China’ Club,” Financial Times, May 23, 2013, http://​www​.ft​.com/​intl/​cms/​s /​0/​08cf74f6​-c216​-11e2​-8992​ -00144feab7de​.html​#axzz3Fuad0nb5. 150.  Mireya Solís, “The Containment Fallacy: China and the TPP,” Brookings Institution, May 24, 2013, http://​www​.brookings​.edu/​blogs/​up​-front/​posts/​2013/​05/​24 – chinatranspacific-partnership-solis. 151.  Christopher M. Dent, “Principal Developments and Future Directions in Asia’s Trade,” in Saadia M. Pekkanen, John Ravenhill, and Rosemary Foot, eds., Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 263 – 84 [278]. 152.  ASEAN members, though, claim that RCEP’s vision “is to be a modern, comprehensive, high-quality, and mutually beneficial economic partnership.” Singapore Ministry of Trade and Industry, “Factsheet on the RCEP,” November 2012, http://​www​.fta​.gov​.sg/​ press​_release​%5CFACTSHEET​%20ON​%20RCEP​_final​.pdf. 153.  Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 980. 154.  Murray Hiebert and Liam Hanlon, “ASEAN and Partners Launch Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership,” CSIS Critical Questions, Center for Strategic and International Studies, Washington, DC, December 7, 2012, http://​csis​.org/​publication/​asean​ -and​-partners​-launch​-regional​-comprehensive​-economic​-partnership. 155.  Hiebert and Hanlon, “ASEAN and Partners Launch.” 156.  Comment by Australian prime minister Julia Gillard, quoted in Hiebert and Hanlon, “ASEAN and Partners Launch.” See also Singapore Ministry of Trade and Indus-

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try, “Factsheet on the RCEP,” June 2014, https://​www​.mti​.gov​.sg/​MTIInsights/​Pages/​ FACTSHEET​-WHAT​-YOU​-NEED​-TO​-KNOW​-ABOUT​.aspx. 157.  Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation Leaders’ Declarations, “Annex A— The Beijing Roadmap for APEC’s Contribution to the Realization of the FTAAP,” http://​www​ .apec​.org/​Meeting​-Papers/ ​Leaders​-Declarations/​2014/​2014​_aelm/​2014​_aelm​_annexa​ .aspx. 158.  “APEC Summit: Chinese Trade Pact Plan Backed by Leaders,” BBC News Asia, November 11, 2014, http://​www​.bbc​.com/​news/​world​-asia​-29999782. 159.  “APEC Summit.” Also see Dan Ran and Jian Chen, “FTAAP to Inject New Energy into Regional Economic Integration,” Xinihua, November 18, 2017, http://​www​ .xinhuanet​.com/​english/​2017​-11/​08/​c​_136737878​.htm. 160.  Dent, “Paths Ahead for East Asia and Asia-Pacific Regionalism,” 979. 161.  Campbell, Pivot; Tom Donilon, “The United States and the Asia-Pacific in 2013,” speech delivered at the Asia Society, New York, March 11, 2013, http://​asiasociety​ .org/​new​-york/​complete​-transcript​-thomas​-donilon​-asia​-society​-new​-york; Clinton, “­America’s Pacific Century”; Daniel Russel, “The Asia Rebalance Is Here to Stay,” Huffington Post, December 31, 2013, http://​www​.huffingtonpost​.com/​daniel​-r​-russel/​us​-asia​ -rebalance​-is​-here​-to​-stay​_b​_4524853​.html. 162.  Singapore Ministry of Trade and Industry, “Fact Sheet on the RCEP.” 163.  See Steve Chan, Enduring Rivalries in the Asia-Pacific (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013), for an excellent analysis of Asia’s strategic landscape. 164.  The creation of the TS and TCS did emerge during this same period. 165.  Campbell, Pivot, 271. 166.  Interview with former NSC director for Oceania and East Asian security affairs, Washington, DC, October 2, 2014. 167.  Brenda Goh, “Three Major Nations Absent as China Launches World Bank Rival in Asia,” Reuters, November 5, 2014, http://​www​.reuters​.com/​article/​2014/​11/​05/​us​ -china​-aiib​-idUSKCN0ID08U20141105. 168.  Ministry of National Defense, People’s Republic of China, “Xiangshan Forum: Asia’s Own Platform for Security Dialogue,” November 24, 2014, http://​eng​.mod​.gov​ .cn/​DefenseNews/​2014​-11/​24/​content​_4553696​.htm; Ankit Panda, “China Creates New ‘Asia for Asians’ Security Forum,” The Diplomat, September 15, 2014, http://​thediplomat​ .com/​2014/​09/​china​-creates​-new​-asia​-for​-asians​-security​-forum/. 169.  For the complete statement, see Xi Jinping, “Remarks at the Fourth Summit of the Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia,” May 30, 2014, http://​www​.china​.org​.cn/​world/​2014​-05/​28/​content​_32511846​.htm. 170.  Michael Green and Nicholas Szechenyi, Power and Order in Asia: A Survey of Regional Expectations (Washington, DC: Center for International and Strategic Studies 2014).

chapter 6  America First, China’s Rise, and Regional Order 1.  Kurt Campbell, one of the key architects of the Asian pivot had aligned himself with the Clinton foreign policy team. See Campbell, Pivot. 2.  David Nakamura, “Japanese Leader Shinzo Abe Plays the Role of Trump’s Loyal Sidekick,” Washington Post, November 16, 2016, https://​www​.washingtonpost​.com/​ politics/​japanese​-leader​-shinzo​-abe​-plays​-the​-role​-of​-trumps​-loyal​-sidekick/​2017/​11/​06/​ cc23dcae​-c2f1​-11e7​-afe9​-4f60b5a6c4a0​_story​.html​?utm​_term​=​.fdeafed15a57.

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3.  Scott Snyder, “Trump Sticks to the Script, Bolsters US Defense Commitments in Japan and South Korea,” National Bureau of Asian Research, November 9, 2017, http://​ www​.nbr​.org/​research/​activity​.aspx​?id​=​816. 4.  Josh Rogin, “Japan Doubles Down on Its US Alliance,” Washington Post, August 17, 2017, https://​www​.washingtonpost​.com/​opinions/​global​-opinions/​japan​-doubles​-down​ -on​-its​-us​-alliance/​2017/​08/​27/​5f7d6880​-89bd​-11e7​-a94f​-3139abce39f5​_story​.html​?utm​ _term​=​.ae9416b900b2. 5.  Ankit Panda, “Shinzo Abe’s ‘Quadrilateral Initiative’: Gone and Forgotten?” The Diplomat. May 7, 2014, https://​thediplomat​.com/​2014/​05/​shinzo​-abes​-quadrilateral​ -initiative​-gone​-and​-forgotten/. 6.  Shinzo Abe, “Asia’s Democratic Security Diamond,” Project Syndicate, December 27, 2012, https://​www​.project​-syndicate​.org/​commentary/​a​-strategic​-alliance​-for​-japan​-and​ -india​-by​-shinzo​-abe. 7.  Part of this friction has come from Trump’s critical remarks, including reference to South Korea’s engagement-oriented approach to North Korea as “appeasement” and his call to end the KORUS FTA. Seoul’s courting of Beijing has also raised some concerns in Washington. See Anna Fifield, “Seoul Tries to Ignore Trump’s Criticism,” Washington Post, September 3, 2017, https://​www​.washingtonpost​.com/​world/​asia​_pacific/​in​-latest​ -test​-north​-korea​-detonates​-its​-most​-powerful​-nuclear​-device​-yet/​2017/​09/​03/​4c5202ea​ -90b4​-11e7​-8754​-d478688d23b4​_story​.html​?utm​_term​=​.9c429ecc34d2. 8.  David Nakamura and Emily Rauhala, “Trump Boasts of ‘Great Relationship’ with Philippines’ Duterte at First Formal Meeting,” Washington Post, November 13, 2017, https://​www​.washingtonpost​.com/​politics/​t rump​-boasts​-of​-great​-relationship​-with​ -philippines​- duterte​- at​- first​- formal​- meeting/​2 017/​1 1/​1 3/​e 6612f14​- c813​- 11e7​- b0cf​ -7689a9f2d84e​_story​.html​?utm​_term​=​.6cc0374a4762. 9.  Ken Bredemeier, “White House: Trump Has ‘Warm Rapport’ with Philippines’ Duterte,” Voice of America, October 31, 2017, https://​www​.voanews​.com/​a /​white​-house​ -says​-trump​-has​-warm​-rapport​-with​-philippines​-duterte/​4094177​.html. 10.  US Department of State, “US Security Cooperation in the Indo-Pacific Region,” August 4, 2018, https://​www​.state​.gov/​r /​pa/​prs/​ps/​2018/​08/​284927​.htm. 11.  Daniel Wagner, “Trump and the Coming Death of Multilateralism,” Huffington Post, n.d., https://​www​.huffingtonpost​.com/​daniel​-wagner/​trump​-and​-the​-coming​-deat​ _b​_12915974​.html. 12.  Michael Green, “Donald Trump’s Message for Asia,” Lowy Interpreter, October 31, 2017, https://​www​.lowyinstitute​.org/​the​-interpreter/​donald​-trump​-s​-message​-asia. 13.  US Department of Defense, “Remarks by Secretary Mattis at Shangri-La Dialogue,” June 3, 2017, https://​www​.defense​.gov/​News/ ​Transcripts/ ​Transcript​-View/​ Article/​1201780/​remarks​-by​-secretary​-mattis​-at​-shangri​-la​-dialogue/. 14.  Prashanth Parameswaran, “What Mattis’ Shangri-La Dialogue Speech Revealed about Trump’s Asia Policy,” The Diplomat, June 6, 2017, https://​thediplomat​.com/​2017/​ 06/​what​-mattis​-shangri​-la​-dialogue​-speech​-revealed​-about​-trumps​-asia​-policy/. For Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter’s speech, see US Department of Defense, “Remarks on ‘The Future of the Rebalance: Enabling Security in the Vital & Dynamic Asia-Pacific,’” delivered by Ash Carter, USS Carl Vinson, San Diego, CA, September 29, 2016, https://​ www​.defense​.gov/​News/​Speeches/​Speech​-View/​Article/​959937/​remarks​-on​-the​-future​ -of​-the​-rebalance​-enabling​-security​-in​-the​-vital​-dynamic​-a/. 15.  For more popular arguments on the potential unraveling of the liberal order, see G. John Ikenberry, “The Plot against American Foreign Policy Can the Liberal Order

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Survive?” Foreign Affairs 96, no. 3 (2017): 2 –9; Robin Niblett, “Liberalism in Retreat: The Demise of a Dream,” Foreign Affairs 96, no. 3 (2017): 17–24. 16.  On this point, see Patrick M. Cronin, “US Alliances and Trump’s ‘Free and Open Indo-Pacific’ Policy,” Global Asia 12, no. 4 (2017): 20 –25. 17.  Any order transition would need to be negotiated with China. See Randall L. Schweller and Xiaoyu Pu, “After Unipolarity: China’s Visions of International Order in an Era of US Decline,” International Security 36, no. 1 (2011): 64; Goh, Struggle for Order. 18.  Nicholas Bisley and Brendan Taylor, “China’s Engagement with Regional Security Multilateralism: The Case of the Shangri-La Dialogue,” Contemporary Southeast Asia 37, no. 1 (2015): 49 – 84. 19.  Michael Yahuda, “Chinese Dilemmas in Thinking about Regional Security Architecture,” Pacific Review 16, no. 2 (2003): 189. 20.  Bisley and Taylor, “China’s Engagement with Regional Security Multilateralism,” 34. 21.  Cha, Powerplay, 199. 22.  David L. Shambaugh, China Goes Global: The Partial Power (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 27. 23.  In a monumental speech, Xi described China as a great or strong power no fewer than twenty-six times: Chris Buckley and Keith Bradsher, “Xi Jinping’s Marathon Speech: Five Takeaways,” New York Times, October 18, 2017, https://​www​.nytimes​.com/​2017/​10/​ 18/​world/​asia/​china​-xi​-jinping​-party​-congress​.html. 24.  Ellen L. Frost, Rival Regionalisms and Regional Order: A Slow Crisis of Legitimacy (Washington, DC: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2014); Min Ye, “China’s Views and Responses to Multilateral Talks in Pacific Asia,” ASAN Forum 2, no. 6 (2014): http://​ www​.theasanforum​.org/​chinas​-views​-and​-responses​-to​-multilateral​-talks​-in​-pacific​-asia/. 25.  Frost, “Rival Regionalisms and Regional Order,” 2. 26.  See, for instance, Joshua Kurantzick, “Let China Win: It’s Good for America,” Washington Post, January 15, 2016. 27.  See Amitai Etzioni, “The Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank: A Case Study of Multifaceted Containment,” Asian Perspective 40, no. 2 (2016): 173 –96. 28.  Xinhua News, “AIIB Expands Membership to 84,” Xinhuanet, December 19, 2017, http://​news​.xinhuanet​.com/​english/​2017​-12/​19/​c​_136837169​.htm. 29.  Martin A. Weiss, Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB) (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 2017). 30.  Michael Clarke, “The Belt and Road Initiative: China’s New Grand Strategy?” Asia Policy 24, no. 1 (2017): 71. 31.  For English version of text, see National Development and Reform Commission, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and Ministry of Commerce, People’s Republic of China, “Vision and Actions on Jointly Building Silk Road Economic Belt and 21st-Century Maritime Silk Road,” March 28, 2015, http://​en​.ndrc​.gov​.cn/​newsrelease/​201503/​t20150330​ _669367​.html. 32.  Christopher Johnson, President Xi Jinping’s “Belt and Road Initiative: A Practical Assessment of the Chinese Communist Party’s Roadmap for China’s Global Resurgence (Washington, DC: CSIS, 2016), 1. 33.  Jessica Keough, “Introduction to Roundtable on China’s Belt and Road Initiative: Views from Along the Silk Road,” Asia Policy 24 (2017): 66. 34.  These corridors include China, Mongolia, and Russia; China, Central Asia, and West Asia; China and Indochinese Peninsula; China and Pakistan; Bangladesh, China, In-

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dia, and Myanmar; and the new Eurasian Land Bridge, connecting Lianyungang in Jiangsu Province with Rotterdam. See Clarke, Belt and Road Initiative, 71. 35.  Yunling Zhang, “One Belt, One Road: A Chinese View,” Global Asia 10, no. 3 (2015): 8; Nadège Rolland, China’s Eurasian Century? Political and Strategic Implications of the Belt and Road Initiative (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2017), 119. 36.  Johnson, “President Xi Jinping’s ‘Belt and Road,’” v. 37.  Clarke, Belt and Road Initiative, 75; Zhang, “One Belt, One Road,” 8. 38.  Rolland, China’s Eurasian Century. 39.  Describing the economic motives, Yiwei Wang states: “China’s Belt and Road Initiative is firstly an integrated, multi-dimensional Eurasian transport network composed of railways, roads, airports, sea routes, oil and gas pipelines, transmission lines and communications networks. Along these, there will be industrial clusters serving these networks and related industries, forming economic corridors that will integrate the development of construction, metallurgy, energy, finance, communications, logistics, tourism and other sectors.” Yiwei Wang, “China’s Belt and Road Vision Comes Down to Connectivity,” Global Asia 12, no. 2 (2017): 56 –59. 40.  However, the extent to which the BRI is seen as a “counter-pivot” against the United States is debated. For different views see Zhang, “One Belt, One Road,” 8; Rolland, China’s Eurasian Century, 115. 41.  Jisi Wang, “Marching Westwards”: The Rebalancing of China’s Geo-strategy (Beijing: Beijing Center for International and Strategic Studies, Peking University, October 7, 2012). Also see Yun Sun, “March West: China’s Response to the US Rebalancing,” UpFront Blog, Brookings Institution, January 31, 2013, https://​www​.brookings​.edu/​blog/​up​ -front/​2013/​01/​31/​march​-west​-chinas​-response​-to​-the​-u​-s​-rebalancing/. 42.  Quoted in Rolland, China’s Eurasian Century, 117. 43.  Muhammad Ihsan Qadir and Saif ur Rehman, “Expansion of Shanghai Cooperation Organization: Harbinger of Regional Peace and Prosperity,” Journal of Political Studies 23, no. 1 (2016): 117–32. India and Pakistan officially became members in June 2017. 44.  David Shambaugh, “China Rethinks Its Global Role in the Age of Trump,” Bloomberg View, June 13, 2017. 45.  Shambaugh, “China Rethinks Its Global Role in the Age of Trump.” 46.  However, multilateral discussions on infrastructure development take place in the AIIB. 47.  Alastair I. Johnston, Social States: China in International Institutions, 1980 –2000 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008). 48.  Ministry of Foreign Affairs, People’s Republic of China, “New Asian Security Concept for New Progress in Security Cooperation,” remarks at the Fourth Summit of the Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia by Xi Jinping, Shanghai Expo Center, May 21, 2014, http://​www​.fmprc​.gov​.cn/​mfa​_eng/​zxxx​_662805/​ t1159951​.shtml. 49.  Yet in making this constitutive claim, scholars must be careful not to conflate regional order with architecture. See Acharya, “Emerging Regional Architecture of World Politics,” 638. 50.  Ikenberry, After Victory, 55. 51.  Alagappa, Asian Security Order, 39. 52.  Richard Haas, “America and the Great Abdication,” The Atlantic, December 28, 2017, https://​www​.theatlantic​.com/​international/​archive/​2017/​12/​america​-abidcation​ -trump​-foreign​-policy/​549296/; Tribune News Services, “If Trump Ends America’s

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World Leadership, Who Will Step Up?” Chicago Tribune, January 25, 2017, http://​www​ .chicagotribune​.com/​news/​nationworld/​politics/​ct​-foreign​-policy​-world​-leadership​-role​ -20170125​-story​.html; Richard Wike, Bruce Stokes, Jacob Poushter, and Janell Fetterolf, “US Image Suffers as Publics around World Question Trump’s Leadership,” Global Attitudes and Trends, Pew Research Center, June 26, 2017, http://​www​.pewglobal​.org/​2017/​ 06/​26/​u​-s​-image​-suffers​-as​-publics​-around​-world​-question​-trumps​-leadership/. 53.  Evan Osnos, “Making China Great Again,” New Yorker, January 8 2018, https://​ www​.newyorker​.com/​magazine/​2018/​01/​08/​making​-china​-great​-again. 54.  Andrew Phillips, “Trump’s Truancy in Asia Could Hasten a Hegemon’s Demise,” Lowy Interpreter, November 22, 2017, https://​www​.lowyinstitute​.org/​the​-interpreter/​ trump​-truancy​-asia​-could​-hasten​-hegemon​-demise. 55.  Haas, “America and the Great Abdication.” 56.  Goh, Struggle for Order, 11. In examining the relationship between hard power and order, the latter is a necessary but not sufficient component of order. 57.  Goh, Struggle for Order, 17. 58.  Alagappa, Asian Security Order, 39. 59.  Evan A. Feigenbaum, “China and the World: Dealing with a Reluctant Power,” Foreign Affairs 96, no. 1 (2017): 35. 60.  Feigenbaum, “China and the World,” 36. 61.  Shambaugh, “China Rethinks Its Global Role in the Age of Trump.” 62.  G. John Ikenberry, “The Future of the Liberal World Order: Internationalism after America,” Foreign Affairs 90, no. 3 (May–June 2011): 57. 63.  Andrew Nathan, “China’s Rise and International Regimes: Does China Seek to Overthrow Global Norms?” in Robert S. Ross and Jo Inge Bekkevold, eds., China in the Era of Xi Jinping: Domestic and Foreign Policy Challenges (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2016), 165 –195 [166]. See also Gideon Rachman, Easternization: Asia’s Rise and America’s Decline (New York: Other Press, 2016). 64.  Phillips, “Trump’s Truancy in Asia.” 65.  Fareed Zakaria, “The Future of American Power: How America Can Survive the Rise of the Rest,” Foreign Affairs 87, no. 3 (2008): 18 –43. 66.  Charles Kupchan, No One’s World: The West, the Rising Rest, and the Coming Global Turn (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). 67.  Amitav Acharya, The End of American World Order (Cambridge, UK: Polity, 2014), chap. 1. 68.  Richard Haass, World in Disarray: American Foreign Policy and the Crisis of the Old Order (New York: Penguin Books, 2017). 69.  Van Jackson, “Whose Rules, What Rules? A Contest for Order in the Asia-Pacific,” Chicago Council on Global Affairs, December 6, 2017, https://​www​.thechicagocouncil​ .org/​publication/​whose​-rules​-what​-rules​-contest​-order​-asia​-pacific. 70.  Acharya, End of American World Order, chap. 6. 71.  For a discussion on regional institutions, architecture, and order, see the special issue “Cooperative Security 2.0,” edited by Paul Evans and Dongxiao Chen, of Global Asia 11, no. 1 (2016). 72.  Kal Raustiala and David G. Victor, “The Regime Complex for Plant Genetic Resources,” International Organization 58, no. 2 (2004): 277–309 [279]. 73.  Stephanie Hofmann, “Overlapping Institutions in the Realm of International Security: The Case of NATO and ESDP,” Perspectives on Politics 7, no. 1 (2009): 47; Karen J.

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Alter and Sophie Meunier, “The Politics of International Regime Complexity,” Perspectives on Politics 7, no. 1 (2009): 14. 74.  Robert O. Keohane and Victor David G., “The Regime Complex for Climate Change,” Perspectives on Politics 9, no. 1 (2011): 7–23 [15]. 75.  Keohane and Victor, “Regime Complex for Climate Change,” 16. 76.  Alter and Meuneir, “Politics of International Regime Complexity,” 16. 77.  Alastair Iain Johnston, “The Myth of the ASEAN Way,” in Helga Haftendorn, Robert O. Keohane, and Celeste A. Wallander, eds., Imperfect Unions: Security Institutions over Time and Space (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 287–324. 78.  On hedging, see Van Jackson, “The Rise and Persistence of Strategic Hedging across Asia: A System-Level Analysis,” in Ashley J. Tellis, Abraham M. Denmark, and Greg Chaffin, eds., Strategic Asia 2014 –15: US Alliances and Partnerships at the Center of Global Power (Seattle: National Bureau of Asian Research, 2014), 317–342. On ambiguity, see Hofmann, “Overlapping Institutions in the Realm of International Security.” 79.  Interview with senior Singapore Ministry of Foreign Affairs official, Washington, DC, June 4, 2014. 80.  Miles Kahler, “Middle Powers, Network Power, and Soft Power,” paper presented at CSIS Study of South Korea as a Global Power, October 14, 2014. 81.  Of course, a skeptic may claim the opposite, perceiving a state joining multiple networks as undermining its trustworthiness. For instance, if Australia supports China-led organizations in addition to US-backed institutions, Americans may become suspicious of Australia’s actions. 82.  Il Hyun Cho and Seo-Hyun Park, “Domestic Legitimacy Politics and Varieties of Regionalism in East Asia,” Review of International Studies 40, no. 3 (2014): 583 – 606. 83.  Interview with South Korean MOFA officials, Washington, DC, September 25, 2014. 84.  For a similar argument, see Steve Chan, Enduring Rivalries in the Asia-Pacific (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013). 85.  Alter and Meunier, “Politics of International Regime Complexity,” 18. 86.  Alter and Meunier, “Politics of International Regime Complexity,” 18. 87.  For more discussion on Asian trade, see Vinod Aggarwal and Min Gyo Koo, “Designing Trade Institutions for Asia,” in Saadia Pekkanen, ed., Asian Designs (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2016), 35 –58. 88.  Thus, rather than institutions generating trust and cooperation, a general level of trust must first be established before meaningful institutions can be created. See Brian C. Rathbun, “Before Hegemony: Generalized Trust and the Creation and Design of International Security Organizations,” International Organization 65, no. 2 (2011): 243 –73. 89.  China, Japan, and the United States depending on one’s perspective. 90.  Amandine Orsini, Jean-Frédéric Morin, and Oran Young, “Regime Complexes: A Buzz, a Boom, or a Boost for Global Governance?” Global Governance 19, no. 1 (2013): 32. 91.  See Detlef Nolte, Latin Americas New Regional Architecture: A Cooperative or Segmented Regional Governance Complex? (Florence, Italy: Robert Schuman Centre for Advance Studies, EUI, 2014). 92.  Nolte, “Latin Americas New Regional Architecture,” 17. 93.  Alter and Meunier, “Politics of International Regime Complexity,” 19. 94.  Morse and Keohane define such actions as “contested multilateralism,” a situation that “results from the pursuit of strategies by states, multilateral organizations, and nonstate

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actors to use multilateral institutions, existing or newly created, to challenge the rules, practices, or missions of existing multilateral institutions. It occurs when coalitions dissatisfied with existing institutions combine threats of exit, voice, and the creation of alternative institutions to pursue policies and practices different from those of existing institutions.” See Julia C. Morse and Robert O. Keohane, “Contested Multilateralism,” Review of International Organizations 9, no. 4 (2014): 385. 95.  For an excellent overview on institutional competition in Central Asia, see Alexander Cooley, Great Games, Local Rules: The New Great Power Contest in Central Asia (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). 96.  Amitav Acharya, “Security Pluralism in the Asia-Pacific: Reshaping Regional Order,” Global Asia 11, no. 1 (2016): 12. 97.  Acharya, “Security Pluralism in the Asia-Pacific,” 13.

chapter 7  Conclusion 1.  This line of argument is similar to one made by Natasha Hamilton-Hart about hard interests and foundational beliefs supporting continued US presence in Southeast Asia. See Hamilton-Hart, Hard Interests, Soft Illusions, 8 –11. 2.  Rudra Sil and Peter J. Katzenstein, “Analytic Eclecticism in the Study of World Politics: Reconfiguring Problems and Mechanisms across Research Traditions,” Perspectives on Politics 8, no. 2 (2010): 412. 3.  David A. Lake, “Theory Is Dead, Long Live Theory: The End of the Great Debates and the Rise of Eclecticism in International Relations,” European Journal of International Relations 19, no. 3 (2013): 474. 4.  However, in Chapter 1, I explain how institutional layering arguments subsume the institutional-balancing thesis. 5.  Cha, “Complex Patchworks”; Tow and Taylor, Bilateralism, Multilateralism and AsiaPacific Security; Pempel, “Soft Balancing, Hedging, and Institutional Darwinism”; Goh, Struggle for Order; Yeo, “Overlapping Regionalism in East Asia.” 6.  T. J. Pempel, “Alliances and the Future Asia-Pacific Order,” Global Asia 11, no. 1 (2016): 24 –27. 7.  Van Jackson, “A Region Primed for Peace or War? Historical Institutionalism and Debates in East Asian Security,” Journal of Global Security Studies 2, no. 3 (2017): 260. 8.  Lake, “Theory Is Dead, Long Live Theory,” 474; Sil and Katzenstein, “Analytic Eclecticism in the Study of World Politics,” 416. 9.  Pierson, Politics in Time, 106. 10.  Pierson, Politics in Time, 106. 11.  ADB, Institutions for Regional Integration, xiii. 12.  ADB, Institutions for Regional Integration, 181 (emphasis added). 13.  For more on positive and negative cases, see James Mahoney and Gary Goertz, “The Possibility Principle: Choosing Negative Cases in Comparative Research,” American Political Science Review 98, no. 4 (2004): 653 –70. 14.  Actors behave rationally in the narrow sense but within the confines of temporalinstitutional structures. Although scholars use the terms nested and overlapping institutions interchangeably, there is a conceptual difference. Alter and Meunier describe overlapping regimes as multiple institutions having authority over an issue but agreements not being

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mutually exclusive to another. See Alter and Meunier, “Politics of International Regime Complexity,” 15. In nested regimes, “institutions are embedded within each other in concentric circles, like Russian dolls.” Also see Aggarwal, Institutional Designs for a Complex World. 15.  Keohane and Victor, “Regime Complex for Climate Change,” 9. 16.  C. Randall Henning, “Economic Crises and Regional Institutions,” in Miles Kahler and Andrew J. MacIntyre, eds., Integrating Regions: Asia in Comparative Context (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press, 2013), 185 – 87. 17.  Note that this differs from Acharya’s concept of “constitutive norm localization” in which Western norms are reinterpreted and adapted to a “local” Asian context. See Acharya, Whose Idea’s Matter, 19. 18.  Sutter et al., Balancing Act, 2. 19.  This topic is explored in depth in Michael J. Green, By More Than Providence: Grand Strategy and American Power in the Asia Pacific since 1783 (New York: Columbia University Press, 2017). 20.  These contingencies included a military conflict with North Korea and armed conflict in the South China and East China Seas, respectively. See Paul Stares, Preventive Priorities Survey: 2018 (Washington, DC: Council on Foreign Relations, December 2017), https://​www​.cfr​.org/​sites/​default/​files/​report​_pdf/​PPS​_2018​_Web​.pdf. 21.  Craig Kafura, “Public Opinion and the US-Japan Alliance at the Outset of the Trump Administration,” Chicago Council on Global Affairs, February 8, 2017, https://​ www​.thechicagocouncil​.org/​publication/​public​-opinion​-and​-us​-japan​-alliance​-outset​ -trump​-administration; Dina S. Smeltz and Craig Kafura, “Americans Affirm Ties to Allies in Asia,” Chicago Council on Global Affairs, 2014, https://​www​.thechicagocouncil​ .org/​publication/​americans​-affirm​-ties​-allies​-asia; Karl Friedhoff and Dina Smeltz, “Americans Positive on South Korea and Support to Defend It at All‐time High, Chicago Council on Global Affairs, October 2015, https://​www​.thechicagocouncil​.org/​sites/​ default/​files/​KoreaBrief​_1510​.pdf. 22.  Richard Haas, “Which Asian Century?” Project Syndicate, October 28, 2013. 23.  Office of the President of the United States, “National Security Strategy of the United States of America,” December 2017, 45 – 47, https://​www​.whitehouse​.gov/​wp​ -content/​uploads/​2017/​12/​NSS​-Final​-12​-18​-2017​-0905​.pdf. 24.  Going further, Rebecca Lissner critically argues that the NSS is largely a rhetorical exercise failing to provide any meaningful guidance on strategy. Rebecca Friedman Lissner, “The National Security Strategy Is Not a Strategy,” Foreign Affairs, December 19, 2017, https://​www​.foreignaffairs​.com/​articles/​united​-states/​2017​-12​-19/​national​-security​ -strategy​-not​-strategy. 25.  US Department of Defense, “Remarks by Secretary Mattis at Plenary Session of the 2018 Shangri-La Dialogue,” June 2, 2018, https://​www​.defense​.gov/​News/ ​Transcripts/​ Transcript​-View/​Article/​1538599/​remarks​-by​-secretary​-mattis​-at​-plenary​-session​-of​-the​ -2018​-shangri​-la​-dialogue/. 26.  A CSIS survey of Asian elites indicates that the vast majority of Chinese policy makers disapprove of the rebalance and perceive the rebalance as “too confrontational to China,” and resembling a form of containment. See Michael Green and Nicholas Szechenyi, Power and Order in Asia: A Survey of Regional Expectations (Washington, DC: Center for International and Strategic Studies, 2014).

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27.  This argument is the premise of liberal institutionalists who see US hegemony, and more important, the liberal international order prolonged through institutions even as US material power declines. See Keohane, After Hegemony; G. John Ikenberry, Liberal Leviathan: The Origins, Crisis, and Transformation of the American World Order (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2011). 28.  This includes US support for the TPP.

Index

Page numbers followed by f or t indicate material in figures or tables. Abbot, Tony, 123 Abe, Shinzo, 151 Acharya, Amitav, 52 –53, 162, 170, 201n130, 205n54, 231n17 Acheson, Dean, 29, 41 Acquisition and Cross-Servicing Agreement (ACSA), 76, 138 Agent-structure constraints, 2, 12 –15, 175, 178, 193n51. See also historical institutionalism Alagappa, Muthiah, 160 Alatas, Ali, 63 Alliance consensus, 195n90; in Australia, 46; defined, 30 –31; and domestic agency, 174, 207n95; and historical institutionalism, 174; and hub-and-spokes system, 32 –33, 57; in Japan, 18, 36 –39, 198 –99n57; in Philippines, 35, 78 – 80, 125, 129; propositions regarding, 21–22; in South Korea, 18, 39 –44, 109 –10; in Taiwan, 197n28; in Thailand, 48 –52, 111–12, 114 –15, 197n28; threat perceptions and, 29 –32, 37 Alter, Karen, 163, 192n37, 230 –31n14 “America-first” foreign policy, 150, 170, 179 – 81. See also Trump, Donald Anticommunist ideology, 22, 32, 41, 44 –46, 52 Aquino, Benigno, 35

Aquino, Corazon, 79 Architecture, use of term, 6 – 8. See also regional architecture Armitage, Richard, 79, 137 Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP), 80 ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), 9f, 52 –53, 172, xi–xii; and AFTA, 143; and APEC, 60 – 64; and ARF, 20, 66 –70, 72, 73; ASEAN-ISIS, 68, 205n54; ASEAN-PMC, 67– 68; the “ASEAN way,” 18 –19, 69, 81, 179; and ASEM, 95; Asian regionalism and, 3, 54, 148, 161; and Australia, 61; Bangkok Declaration founding of, 53; China and, 72, 88, 89f, 158, 160 – 61, 166; continued support for, 15; as core regional institution, 172, 178; criticism of, 92; and EAEG, 65 – 66; and EAS, 99, 115; and India, 61; informality of, 17; institutional drift concerns, 18, 54 –55, 73; Japan and China summits (1997), 95 –96; leadership role of, 69 –70; and Malaysia, 61; as middle power, 165; and multilateralism, 52 –55; opposing Pacific Basin approach, 59; and PECC, 59; Plus One process, 100; “plus six” countries, 145 –46; Plus Three process, 65, 100, 119; and RCEP, 145, 147; and Six-Party Talks, 101; and South Korea, 88, 89f; and Thailand, 51; Treaty of

234

Index

ASEAN (continued ) Amity and Cooperation, 54; US and, 54, 71, 82, 126, 129 –30, 152 –53. See also APT (ASEAN Plus Three) framework ASEAN Defense Ministers Meeting (ADMM), 138, 153, 154 ASEAN Free Trade Area (AFTA), 143 ASEAN Plus Three (APT), 6, 11, 16, 92, 93t, 105, 167; and Asian financial crisis, 94 –100; China, Japan, South Korea meetings, 139, 141; China and, 154, 158, 160 – 61, 166; and CMI (Chiang Mai Initiative), 89, 179; and EAFTA, 143; and East Asia Summit (EAS), 98 –101, 164; and North Korean nuclear situation, 102; not replacing ASEAN, 115; and RCEP, 147; South Korea and, 164; and TCS (Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat), 138 –39, 141; US concerns regarding, 144 ASEAN Post-Ministerial Conference, 61, 67–70 ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF), 93t; versus APT, 100, 102, 115; China and, 154, 161, 164, 166; as complement to bilateralism, 20, 69, 71–72, 81, 167; development of, 58, 67, 69 –71; facilitating informal meetings, 167; failures of, 148; and institutional layering, 73; and post–Cold War regionalism, 94, 136 –38; and Trump administration, 153; and US alliances, 82, 83, 152 –53, 166 Asia-Europe Meeting (ASEM), 95 Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC), 93t; origins of, 58 – 62, 81, 83; initial ministerial meetings of, 62 – 63; growth of, 64 – 65; and ASEAN, 62 – 63, 66 – 67, 73; and Asian financial crisis, 65, 94, 100; and Australia, 164; and bilateralism, 6, 20, 55 –56, 96, 115, 136; and China, 154; and EAEG, 65 – 66; and FTAAP, 143, 146 –47; and historical institutionalism, 174; and hub-and-spokes, 57; and Korean nuclear weapons, 102; and TPP, 145, 147; and trade, 167; and Trump administration, 153; US and, 64, 71, 114; value of, 138, 166 – 67, 178 –79 Asian Bond Market Initiative (ABMI), 90 Asian Development Bank (ADB), 176, 192n44 Asian Financial Crisis (AFC), 84, 92, 94 –96, 100 –101, 105, 106, 115; APT (ASEAN Plus Three) framework, 94 –98, 100; and

East Asian regionalism, 11, 16, 84, 89, 92, 94 –98; institutional architecture since, 101; and multilateralism, 18, 105; and politics of resentment, 115; and South Korea, 106, 111; and Thailand, 112 Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB), 10, 148; China and multilateralism, 157– 58, 167, 170; and institutional layering, 173, 176; Obama administration objections to, 155 –56; South Korea hesitancy on, 165; and subregionalism, 162 Association of Southeast Asia (ASA), 53 Australia, 93t; and 9/11 attacks, 121–22; alliance with Japan, 135t, 136 –38; and ANZUS Treaty, 28, 45 –47, 122; and ARF, 67, 72; and CEPEA, 143; Darwin, 123 –24; and EAS, 10, 99; establishing APEC, 60 – 63; Gillard administration, 122 –23; as a middle power, 165; objections to leniency toward Japan, 46; PBEC (Pacific Basin Economic Council), 59; and QSD, 151; quadrilateral relationships, 169; and RCEP, 145, 147; Rudd administration, 122; and SEATO, 45, 47; supporting bilateral alliances, 18; supporting regional institutions, 148; supporting US nuclear strategy, 46 –47; and TPP, 144, 147; trilateral relationships, 135t, 136 –38; US alliance with, 44 –48, 120 –24; and US pivot to Asia, 119, 123; veto power in Asia, 81; in Vietnam War, 46 –47. See also Evans, Gareth; OPTAD; PBEC; PECC Australia, New Zealand, United States (­ANZUS) Treaty, 28, 44 –47, 121–22 Australia-United States Ministerial Consultations (AUSMIN), 121, 124 Ba, Alice, 53, 61, 66 Baker, James, 61, 64, 65 – 66, 68 Balance-of-threat, 30, 55 Balancing: EAS enlargement and, 100 –101; and geostrategic competition, 10 –11; and hub-and-spokes, 30, 55; institutional, 134, 173, 178; trilateralism and, 134; US against China, 132 –33 Bandung Conference, 34 Bangkok Declaration, 53 –54 Bao Dai, 48 Bell, Coral, 44, 48 Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), 10, 150, 155, 156 –58, 161, 227n39 Benedictus, Brian, 132

Index Berger, Samuel, 43 Bhagwati, Jagdish, 145 Bilateral alliances: Australia supporting, 18; communist states and, 25, 26, 29; consensus in support of, 18, 30 –32; Japan supporting, 18, 28, 120, 129, 133, 135, 138; Obama reviving, 179 – 80; origins of, 28 –29; as self-reinforcing, 5; US preference for, 71; vested interest in, 26; Vietnam and US, 48, 119 –20, 129 –30, 131–33, 211n61 Bogor Goals, 64, 203 –4n35 Bonner, Raymond, 33, 198n40 Bower, Ernest, 126 Brand loyalty, 15 Brunei, 54, 62 – 63, 93t, 144. See also ASEAN Bundy, George, 43 Burma/Myanmar, 9f, 54, 93t, 113 –14 Bush, George H. W., 67– 68 Bush, George W.: and ANZUS, 121; attitudes toward multilateralism, 102, 212n76; and North Korea, 102 –3, 106, 108, 110; and Pacific-4 (P4), 144; and Thailand, 114; and US–Australia–Japan trilateralism, 136 –37; war on terror, 108, 114 Byroade, Henry, 34 Cambodia, 49, 54, 112 Campbell, Kurt, 107– 8, 216n9, 224n1 Canada, 59, 62, 67, 72 Carden, David, 130 Carter, Ashton, 129, 153 Carter, Jimmy, 33, 35 –36, 43 Central Asia, 181; and China, 162, 164, 168, 169 Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), 33 –34, 38, 51 Cha, Victor D., 6, 196n12 Change, explaining, 15 –17 Chang Myon, 42 “Checkbook diplomacy,” 74 Chiang Mai Initiative (CMI), 89 –90, 93t, 97 China: and 2008 financial crisis, 117–18; and AIIB, 148, 155 –58, 162, 165, 170, 176; and APT, 11, 139, 141, 154, 158, 160 – 61, 166; and ARF, 164, 166; “assertive meme” regarding, 215n4; and Australia, 121–22; Beijing Olympics, 117; Belt and Road Initiative, 10, 150, 155, 156 –58, 161, 227n39; China-Japan-Korea FTA, 146; and EAEG, 65 – 66, 95, 174; and EAFTA, 143, 145; and EAS, 99 –101; and EASR, 75; international students in, from, 85, 91; intraregional

235

trade and labor, 88 –90 (88t, 89t, 90t); and Korea, 45, 101–4, 146; and multilateralism, 19, 70, 157–58, 167, 170; and Philippines, 126, 129; and regionalism, 10 –11, 24, 100 –101, 154 –58; South China Sea, 4, 72, 80, 118 –19, 125 –26, 129, 132, 158; suppressing student-led movements (1989), 57; and Thailand, 111–12, 114; and TPP, 145; and trilateralism, 134 –39 (135t); US current relations with, 181– 83; and US military presence in Asia, 27, 30, 133; westward focus of, 169. See also ASEAN; Taiwan (Republic of China); Xi Jinping China, Japan, South Korea (CJK) trilateralism, 140 –41, 166 – 67. See also Trilateral Summit; Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat Christopher, Warren, 64, 71 Chun Doo-Hwan, 43 Clinton, Bill, 64, 71–72, 75, 76 –77, 81 Clinton, Hillary: as EAS observer, 211n61; at East Asia Summit, 132; endorsing trilateral meetings, 135; on strategic thinking in Asia, 123; presidential campaign, 150; signing Manila Declaration, 125 –26; and strategic rebalance to Asia, 1, 130 Cold War, 8; and ASEAN, 54, 195n3; bilateralism during, 25 –29, 52, 55, 149, 158; huband-spokes during, 29 –33, 55 –56, 192n34; large-scale war avoided, 30; US–Japan relations, 36 –39; US–Philippine relations, 78, 80; US–South Korea relations, 41, 44, 109; US–Thailand relations, 48, 52, 112, 114 Coleman, David, 44 Communism: and anticommunist ideology, 22, 32, 41, 44 –46, 48 –52; and bilateral alliances, 25, 26, 28 –29; post-Cold war, 57, 80, 114; post-WWII, 5, 27, 34 –35, 40 –44, 48, 54 Complex patchwork, 118, 172 –75, 177; in Asia, 84, 118, 149, 162 – 68, 182; concept, 3, 6, 9 (9f ), 12, 19 –20 (19f ), xv; and multilateralism, 148; and trilateralism, 136. See also overlapping institutions; regime complex Comprehensive Economic Partnership for East Asia (CEPEA), 143, 145 Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP), 144, 195n91, 223n144. See also TPP Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia (CICA), 148, 155, 157–58, 173

236

Index

Conference on Security and Cooperation in Asia (CSCA), 67– 68 Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE), 67 Confidence building, 148, 155, 157–58, 173 Conflict reduction over resolution, 53 Consensus. See alliance consensus “Constitutive norm localization,” 231n17 Constructivism, 3, 9, 13, 92, 115, 159, 173 –75 Co-Prosperity Sphere ( Japan), 26 –28 Critical juncture theory, 15 –17, 57, 94 –96 Curtin, John, 45 Del Rosario, Albert, 126 –27 Dent, Christopher, 87, 141–43, 145, 222n132 Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade [Australia] (DFAT), 60 – 61 Dibb, Paul, 120 Dobell, Graeme, 122 Domestic politics, 20, 30, 32; in Japan, 37–39; in Philippines, 35; in South Korea, 41–44; in Thailand, 51–52, 112, 115; in US, 25 Downer, Alexander, 121, 137 DPRK. See North Korea (DPRK) Dulles, John Foster, 29, 37, 46, 49 Duterte, Rodrigo, 128 –29, 152, 218n63 East Asia; defined and scope conditions, 3, 189 –90n5 East Asia Economic Group (EAEG), 65 – 66, 95, 174 East Asia Free Trade Agreement (EAFTA), 98, 143, 145 East Asia Summit (EAS), 93t; and AIIB, 176; Australia’s membership in, 164; benefits of, 166 – 67, 173; and CEPEA, 143; China’s membership in, 154, 158; and complex patchwork, 6; as core regional institution, 178; and historical institutionalism, 174; Nair on, 100; overlap with TCS, 139; and RCEP, 147; relationship with APT, 99 –101, 164; and “rival regionalism,” 10; and RTAs, 143; US membership in, 126, 130, 132, 138, 144, 153, 211n61 East Timor, 47 East Asian Strategic Review (EASR), 75 East Asian Study Group (EASG), 98 East Asian Vision Group (EAVG), 11, 97, 98, 165 “Economic-security nexus,” 7 Eisenhower, Dwight D., 37, 49

Elite consensus, 25, 31–32, 35, 48, 74, 125. See also alliance consensus Endogenous institutional change, 4 – 6, 13 –14, 16 –20, 65, 96, 154, 169. See also institutions Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA), 128 Evans, Gareth, 63, 67, 204 –5n52 Eurasia, 10, 155, 161, 227n34 Exogenous shock, 4 –5, 16, 17–18, 57, 94 –95, 177 Feigenbaum, Evan, 160 Financial integration, 89 Fineman, Daniel, 49 Fioretos, Orfeo, 13, 16, 24 Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS), 21 Fraser, John, 47 Free Trade Agreement (FTA), 88 – 89, 141, 144 –46, 153; and regulatory cooperation versus regulatory rights, 143 Free Trade Area of the Asia-Pacific (FTAAP), 143, 146 –47, 166, 179 Frost, Ellen, 10, 155 Fukuda, Yasuo, 139 Fukuyama, Francis, 104 Future of the Alliance Talks (FOTA), 110 Garcia, Carlos, 34 General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), 60, 62 Geostrategic competition, 10 –11, 22 Gillard, Julia, 122 –23 Global recession (1980s), 59 Goh, Evelyn, 160, 213n89, 215n133 Goh Chok Tong, 68, 210n34 Green, Mike, 135, 221n105 Greitens, Sheena, 217n38 Guam doctrine, 47 Haas, Richard, 2, 159, 161 Hall, Peter, 15 Hallyu/“Korean Wave,” 85 Hanoi Declaration, 96 Hashimoto-Clinton joint declaration, 76 –77 Hatoyama, Yukio, 165 Hatoyama Ichiro, 38 Hawke, Robert, 47, 60 – 61 Hayek, Friedrich, 12 He, Kai, 10 –11 Higuchi, Hirotaro, 75

Index Hill, Christopher, 103 –4 Historical institutionalism, xi, 5 – 6, 13 –19, 22, 25, 31–32, 58, 172 –75; and agentstructure debate, 2, 12 –15, 175, 178, 193n51; and endogenous change, 4 – 6, 13 –14, 16 –20, 65, 96, 154, 169; framework, 3, 32, 115, 129, 169, 172, 178, 182; and international relations theory, 13 –14, 173 –75; mechanisms, 5, 14 –16, 21, 31, 32, 58, 73, 111, 173; and path dependence, 13 –18, 21, 154, 168 – 69, 174, 178; and policy, 177–79; and rational institutionalism, 5, 8, 13, 22, 24, 101, 172, 175 –77 Holbrooke, Richard, 35 Holt, Harold, 47 Hosokawa, Morihiro, 75 Howard, John, 121–22, 136 –37 Hu, Weixing, 7 Hub-and-spokes system, 8, 28, 192n34; bilateralism and, 18, 32, 74, 102, 111, 130, 133 –34; building consensus across, 32 –33; formalization within, 17; future scenarios for, 160 – 61, 169, 172; multilateralism as complement to, 72 –73, 115; and Obama rebalance, 119 –20, 129; origins of, 28; persistence of, 5, 15, 20, 29 –30; and Philippines, 129; post-Cold War, 57; regional initiatives not competing with, 54, 66; and ROC (Taiwan), 197n28; self-reinforcing logic of, 25 –26; and Singapore, 131; and Thailand, 196n17; trilateralism and, 135 –37; US commitment to, 25, 67 Ideas versus interests, 31 Ikenberry, John, 159 India, 26, 93t; in EAS, 10, 99; and QSD, 151; and RCEP, 145; and regionalism, 143, 161; and SCO, 157; and Thailand, 114; Toyota in, 86t; and trilateralism, 135 (135t); and US, 123 –24, 133, 151, 152, 169 Indo-Pacific, 150 –52, 169; and US National Security Strategy, 180 – 81 Indonesia, 47, 93t; AFC effects on, 84; on APEC and ASEAN, 61– 63, 66; and ASA, 53; and ASEAN, 53 –54, 61, 62 – 63, 99, 139; Australia and, 121; and EAEG, 66; and East Timor, 47; international students from, 91; interregional trade, 88t; ouster of Sukarno, 53; Toyota in, 86t; US and, 129 –30, 132, 152 Institutions: balancing of, 10 –11, 134, 173, 178; and drift, 17–21, 73, 84; informal, 6, 10, 179; and layering, 5 – 6, 16 –19 (19f ),

237

21, 70 –73, 81, 100, 169 –70; nested, 8, 10, 167, 178, 192n37, 230 –31n14; rational design, 8, 11–14, 96. See also overlapping institutions Institutional drift, 16, 17–21, 54, 73, 84, 100, 119, 170, 193n52 Institutional layering, 5 – 6, 16 –19 (19f ), 21, 70 –73, 81, 100, 169 –70 Intelligence gathering, sharing, 39, 46, 50, 77, 127 Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (ISR), 127 International Labor Organization (ILO), 91 International legitimacy, 32, 43 International Monetary Fund (IMF), 94 –95, 106, 112, 118 International order, 2, 151, 154, 159 – 62, 232n27. See also liberal international order International relations (IR) theory, 13 –14, 92, 173 –75 Intraregional trade, 87– 88 Jackson, Van, 161, 175 Japan: and ABMI, 90; and ACSA, 76, 138; and APEC, 60 – 62, 94 –95; and ASEAN, 95 –96, 210n34; and Australia, 46, 135t, 136 –38; and CEPEA, 143; “checkbook diplomacy,” 74; China, Japan, South Korea trilateralism, 139 –41 (140f ), 146, 166 – 67; and Co-Prosperity Sphere, 26 –28; and EAEG, 65 – 66; and EAS, 10; embracing Korean culture, 85 – 86; foreign labor in, 90 –91 (90f ); Hashimoto-Clinton joint declaration, 76 –77; and Indo-Pacific region, 169; international students from and in, 84 – 85, 91; and JETRO, 85; and KEDO, 212n73; labeled as free rider, 1; LDP (Liberal Democratic Party), 36, 38 –39, 199n57; as middle power, 165; MITI (Ministry of International Trade and Industry), 37, 60, 202n15; and NDPO, 75 –76; “1955 system,” 18; and North Korea, 103 –5; Okinawa issues, 38, 76; and PAFTAD, 59; and PBEC, 59; and Philippines, 133; Post-Cold War institutions, 93t; postwar access to US markets, 27–28; post WWII, 27–28, 36 –38; prewar regionalism, 26 –27; and QSD, 151; and regionalism, 26 –27, 60, 72, 88, 99 –101, 148; Self-Defense Force, 77, 104; and Six-Party Talks, 101–2; supporting bilateral alliances, 18, 28, 120, 129, 133, 135, 138; supporting trilateral alliances, 119, 134 –39 (135t), 166;

238

Index

Japan (continued ) and Thailand, 114; Three Non-Nuclear Principles (1967), 38; Toyota brand, 15; and TPP, 144 –45, 151; Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security, 76, 198 –99n57; Treaty of San Francisco, 28; US–Japan alliance, 28, 33, 36 –39, 46, 72, 74 –78, 151, 180, 212n76; US occupation of, 28, 30; veto power in Asia, 81. See also ASEAN Japan External Trade Organization ( JETRO), 85 Japanese Defense Agency ( JDA), 37 Johnson, Christopher, 157 Johnson, Lyndon B., 46 Johnston, Alastair Iain, 205n54, 215n4 Joint Chiefs of Staff ( JCS), 49 Jones, David Martin, 92, 95, 98 Kahler, Miles, 165 Kato, Ryozo, 136 Korean Peninsula Energy Development Organization (KEDO), 92, 93t, 101–2, 212n73 Kelly, James, 113 Kennan, George, 33 Keohane, Robert O., 163, 229 –30n94 Kerry, John, 132 Khong, Yuen Foong, 205n56 Kim Dae-Jung, 97, 106, 165 Kishi, Nobusuke, 38, 199n57 Kissinger, Henry, 54, 198n41 Koizumi, Junichiro, 136 –37, 139, 212n76 Kojima, Kiyoshi, 59 Korean War, 28 –29, 40 –42, 45 –46, 196n12. See also North Korea; South Korea “Korean Wave”/hallyu, 85 Ku, Kim, 40 Kupchan, Charles, 161 Lake, David, 174 Laos, 49 –50, 54, 57, 93t, 99 Law of the Sea, UN Convention on, 158 Lee, Chae-Jin, 41 Lee Hsien Loong, 131 Lee Kuan Yew, 63 Lee Myung-bak, 139 Leifer, Michael, 67, 69 –70 Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), Japan, 36, 38 –39, 199n57 Liberal institutionalism, 155, 174, 183, 232n27 Liberal international order, 2, 150 –54, 159 – 62, 232n27 Lord, Winston, 71

Macapagal, Diosdado, 34 Macapagal-Arroyo, Gloria, 34 MacArthur, Douglas, 40, 45, 107 MacArthur, Douglas II, 38 Magsaysay, Ramon, 33 –34 Mahathir, Mohammed, 65 – 66, 95 Malaysia: APEC and ASEAN, 61– 62, 66; APT and EAS, 99; ASA initiative and ASEAN, 53 –54; EAEG proposal, 65 – 66; EAS and, 99; migration, 91; international students from, 91; interregional exports, 88t; Maphilindo, 53; response to 1980s global recession, 59; Toyota production in, 86t; and TPP, 144; US and, 132, 152 Maphilindo, 53 Marcos, Ferdinand, 33 –36, 41, 53, 78, 198nn37 Mattis, James, 151, 153, 181 Menzies, Robert, 47 Methods and research design, 20 –22 Meunier, Sophie, 163, 192n37, 230 –31n14 Middle powers, 163, 165, 171 Migration, 90 –91 Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG), 49 Miller, J. D. B., 138 Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA), 39, 60, 76 –77, 202n14 Ministry of International Trade and Industry (MITI), Japan, 15, 37, 60, 202nn14 Mondale, Walter, 35 Moon Jae-in, 151–52 Morada, Noel, 70 Morin, Jean-Frédéric, 168, 229n90 Morse, Julia C., 229 –30n94 Multilateralism: ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), 52 –55; Asian Financial Crisis (AFC), 18, 105; China and, 19, 70, 157–58, 167, 170; and bilateralism, 4, 17–22; and complex patchwork, 148; defined, 7– 8; and hub-and-spokes system, 72 –73, 115; from lack of common identity, 29; major powers’ resistance to, 70 –71; and North Korea (DPRK), 212n76, 220n92, 222n124; obstacles to, 8, 19 –20; proto-­ multilateralism, 53; and regional governance, 92 –94; United States, 1, 68, 102, 212n76 Mutual Logistics Support Agreement (MLSA), 125 Myanmar/Burma, 9f, 54, 93t, 113 –14 Nair, Deepak, 100 Nakasone, Yasuhiro, 39

Index Nakayama, Taro, 68 – 69, 205n54 National Defense Program Outline (NDPO), 75 –76 National Security Laws (NSL), South Korea, 42 Nested institutions, 8, 10, 167, 178, 192n37, 230 –31n14. See also overlapping institutions New Zealand: and ANZUS Treaty, 28, 44 –47, 121–22; and APEC, 62; banning US nuclear-powered ships, 47; and CEPEA, 143; and EAS, 10, 99, 143; and PBEC (Pacific Basin Economic Council), 59; and RCEP, 145; and TPSEPA, 144; US and, 47, 196n17 Nexon, Daniel, 13 Nguyen Phu Trong, 132 9/11 attacks, 113 –15, 121–22 Nixon, Richard, 33, 34, 38, 43, 47, 52 “Noodle bowl,” 89, 142, 145, 147 North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), 153 North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), 28, 49, 153 North Korea (DPRK), 101–3; and China, 148; as Cold War threat, 42, 44, 57; and Japan, 76, 212nn75; and KEDO, 212n73; as nuclear threat, 18, 70, 74 –75; proposed multilateral talks, 212n76, 220n92, 222n124; Six-Party Talks (SPT), 101–5, 110, 212n72, 213n89; Trump and, 150 –52; US/South Korea disagreements over, 108 –10, 135, 151–52. See also Korean War North Pacific Cooperative Security Dialogue, 67 Northeast Asia Peace and Cooperation Initiative (NAPCI), 164 Nuclear safety and disaster management, 140 Nuclear weapons: New Zealand, 47; North Korea, 18, 70, 74 –75, 101–5, 108 –9, 150 –51, 212n73; US strategy, 38, 44, 46 Nye, Joseph/Nye Report, 75 Obama, Barack: on AIIB, 155 –56; and Philippines–US alliance, 126, 128 –29; “pivot” to Asia, 118 –19, 123, 133, 144, 148, 215n5; promoting multilateralism, 1; reviving bilateral alliances, 179 – 80; Rodrigo Duterte and, 128; and Singapore, 131; ties to ASEAN, 130; and TPP, 145, 147; and Vietnam, 131–33 Obuchi, Keizo, 139, 222n124 Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), 59, 60, 90 (90f )

239

Okamoto, Yukio, 77 Okinawa, 38, 76 OPCON (Operational Control) transfer, 110, 213n106 Organization for Pacific Trade and Development (OPTAD), 59, 60 Orsini, Amandine, 168 Osnos, Evan, 159 Overlapping institutions, 172 –78; continuity of, 149; institutional layering, 5 – 6, 16 –19 (19f ), 21, 70 –73, 81, 100, 169 –70; nested institutions, 8, 10, 167, 178, 192n37, 230 –31n14; patterns of, 6, 9, 11; timing and, 24. See also complex patchwork P4 (Pacific-4), 144 Pacific Basin Economic Council (PBEC), 59 Pacific Economic Cooperation Conference (PECC), 59, 63 Pacific Pact, 28 –29, 196n12 Pacific Trade and Development Conference (PAFTD), 52, 59 Park Chung Hee, 42 –43 Path dependence, 13 –18, 21, 154, 168 – 69, 174, 178 Pelaez, Emmanuel, 79 Pempel, T. J., 175 Pence, Mike, 151 People Power Revolution (Philippines), 35 –36, 78 Perry, William, 121 Persian Gulf War, 74, 75 Phibunsongkhram, Plaek (Phibun), 48 –51 Philippines, 9f, 33; ASA initiative, 53; base closures weakening alliance, 78 – 81; bilateralism, 18; CIA role in politics, 33 –34, 197n35; Cold-War alliance with United States, 28, 33 –36; communist threat, 34, 35; democratization, 78; Duterte friction with US, 128 –29; and EAEG, 66; EDCA agreement with US (2014), 128; elite support for alliance, 18, 35 –36, 80; internal threats, 80; interregional exports, 88t; and Japan, 133; Korean Wave in, 85; Manila Declaration (2011), 125 –26; in MAPHILINDO, 53; martial law dictatorship (1972), 34 –36; nationalism in, 78; and Obama pivot to Asia, 119; ouster of Marcos, 53; and Pacific Pact, 28; People Power Revolution, 35 –36, 78; response to 1980s global recession, 59; in SEATO, 29; tensions with Malaysia, 54; threats from China, 80, 126; Toyota in, 86t; Trump supporting

240

Index

Philippines (continued ) Duterte, 152; US–Philippines Alliance, 28, 33 –36, 78 – 81, 125 –29, 152; US–Philippines Ministerial Dialogue (2012), 126 –27; US relief after Typhoon Haiyan, 127; US troops in, 35, 68, 78 – 81, 106; Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA, 1998), 80. See also ASEAN; Marcos, Ferdinand; People Power Revolution; Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation, and Security Philippine American Cooperation Talks (PACT), 79 Phillips, Andrew, 159 Pinkayan, Subin, 62 “Pivot” to Asia, 1, 118 –19, 123, 133, 144, 148, 215n5; and terminology, 216n9. See also strategic rebalance Poling, Gregory, 126 Pollack, Jonathan, 108 Pompeo, Mike, 152, 153 Positive feedback loops, 14 –15, 26, 56, 81, 133, 154, 173 Powell, Colin, 102 –3, 137, 212n76 Pridi Phanomyong, 51 Production networks, 85 – 87, 209n5 Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI), 108 Propositions, 20 –22, 64; Proposition 1, 32, 56, 60, 120, 174, 207n95; Proposition 2, 32, 120, 174; Proposition 3, 32, 110, 120, 124, 169, 174; Proposition 4, 174, 206n89; Proposition 5, 84; Proposition 6, 60, 66, 118, 174 Proto-multilateralism, 53 Psy, 107 Pu, Xiaoyu, 160 Punctuated equilibrium models, 16, 73 Pyle, Kenneth, 37 Quadrilateral Security Dialogue (QSD), 93t, 151 Quirino, Elpidio, 34 Racism, 29, 91 Radford, Arthur, 49 Randolph, Sean, 51 Rational institutionalism, 5, 8, 13, 22, 24, 101, 172, 175 –77; and rational design, 10, 11–13, 176 Ravenhill, John, 59, 65, 92, 208 –9n5 Reagan, Ronald, 52 Realism, 28, 39, 45, 119, 120, 155, 159, 173; as alternative explanation, 10, 22, 162 Recto, Claro, 197n35

Regime complexity, 4, 9, 17, 18, 20, 81, 138, 139, 150; definition, 9; policy implications, 162 –71. See also overlapping institutions Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), 142 –43, 145 –47, 165, 166, 173, 179, 223n152 Regional architecture, 2 –3, 6 –11 (9f ), 59, 96; evolution of, 4 –5, 12 –13; defined, 6 – 8; and economic architecture, 6 –7; 145; existing literature on, 4, 12 –13, 17; and governance, xii, 3, 4, 7, 8, 20, 23, 24, 92, 105 – 6, 160, 162 –71, 173; as macrolevel institution, 17–18, 96, 100, 101, 142, 154, 176; and security architecture, 6, 7, 18, 134, 147, 170, 192n34, 212n72; trade architecture, 141–47. See also complex patchwork; overlapping institutions; regime complex Regional economic cooperation, 52, 58 – 63, 85 –94 Regional Trade Agreements (RTA), 89, 117, 141–44 (142f ), 146 –47, 166 Regionalism; comparative, 4; defined, 7; inclusive and exclusive forms of, 64, 83, 96, 99, 115; regional architecture, 3, 6 –11 (9f ), 59, 96; rising (1998 –2007), 83 – 84, 115 –16; and rivalry, 10 –11, 170. See also overlapping institutions Regionalization, 23, 57, 83, 84 – 85, 92 Republic of China (ROC), 28, 59, 65, 86t, 91, 196n12, 197n28. See also Taiwan Rhee, Syngman, 40 –42 Rice, Condoleeza, 104, 137 “Rival regionalism,” 10, 170 Rixen, Thomas, 6 Roh Moo-hyun, 107–10, 212n76 ROK (Republic of Korea). See South Korea Roosevelt, Franklin, 40 Royal Thai Government (RTG), 48 Rozman, Gilbert, 8, 208n1 Rudd, Kevin, 122, 138 Ruggie, John, 191n30 Rusk, Dean, 43, 50 Russia, 93t; in Asia, 168; in EAS, 166; international students from, 91; and “rival regionalism,” 10; Rodrigo Duterte and, 129; Soviet Union, 26, 30, 40; SPT (SixParty Talks), 93t, 94, 101–5, 115; Track I trilateral meetings, 135t Samuels, Richard, 36 Sato, Hideo, 41

Index Schoff, James, 136 Schweller, Randall, 160 Searight, Amy, 89 –90, 208n5 Self-Defense Force (SDF), Japan, 77, 104 Self-reinforcing mechanisms, 5, 14 –15, 21, 25, 44, 56, 173 Seoul National University (SNU), 84 – 85 Severino, Rodolfo, 94, 96 Shambaugh, David, 7, 154, 157, 160, 215n1 Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), 157–58, 161 Shangri-La Dialogue, 6, 92, 153, 181 Singapore, 98t; and APEC issue, 62 – 64; and ASEAN, 53, 62 – 63, 68 – 69, 210n34; bilateral relations with US, 129 –31; and EAEG, 66; interregional export, 88t; and multiculturalism, 91; in multiple regional arrangements, 147, 164 – 65; supporting regionalism, 99; and TPSEPA, 144; and US, 152 Siracusa, Joseph, 44 Six-Party Talks (SPT), 93t, 94, 101–5, 115 Slaughter, Anne-Marie, 92 Smith, Chris, 127 Smith, Michael, 92, 95, 98 Sociological institutionalism, 13 Solís, Mireya, 144 South China Sea, 4, 72, 80, 118 –19, 125 –26, 129, 132, 158 South Korea (ROK), 93t, 106 –11, 213n107; AFC effects on, 84; anticommunist ideology, 41; and APEC, 62; and ASEAN, 18, 62; Asian financial crisis in, 106; under Chang Myon, 42; under Chun DooHwan, 43; crackdown in Kwangju, 43; distrusting Japan, 27; elite support for alliance, 18, 41– 44, 109 –11; FDR on, 40; FOTA (Future of the Alliance Talks), 110; international students from, 91; under Kim Dae-Jung, 106; Korean War, 28 –29, 41– 42; Korean Wave in Asia, 85; labeled free rider by Trump, 1; as middle power, 165; National Security Law, 42; outside “Acheson security line,” 41; and Pacific Pact, 28; under Park Chung Hee, 42 – 43; return of OPCON (operational control) to, 110; under Roh Moo-hyun, 107 –10, 212n76; under Syngman Rhee, 40 – 42; US Cold-War alliance with, 28 –29, 39 – 44; US Combined Forces Command, 42, 109; US disagreements over DPRK, 108 –10, 135, 151–52; US occupation of,

241

40 – 42; US Status of Forces Agreement, 106 Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO), 28 –29, 34, 45, 47–50, 52 –53 Soviet Union, 26, 30, 40. See also Russia Special Action Committee on Okinawa (SACO), 76 Spender, Percy, 46 Spratly Islands, 80, 126. See also South China Sea Stern, Lewis, 113 “Stickiness” of institutions, 14 Strategic rebalance, 118 –19, 123, 133, 144, 148, 215n5. See also pivot to Asia Streeck, Wolfgang, 6 Study abroad trends, 90 –91 Stumpf, Matthew, 131 Sukma, Rizal, 70 Taiwan (Republic of China), 28, 59, 65, 86t, 91, 196n12, 197n28 Taiwan Strait, 57, 70, 83 Tanaka, Makiko, 137 Taylor, Brendan, 6, 8 Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) system, 152 Thailand: and Asian financial crisis, 84; and APEC, 62; ASA initiative, 53; and ASEAN, 9f, 51, 53, 62; Bangkok Declaration, 53 –54; and China, 112; and CMI, 97; democratization (1968), 51; and EAEG, 66; elite support of US, 49; and IMF austerity measures, 95; interregional exports, 88t; and Khmer Rouge, 112; Laotian crisis, 50; Manila Pact, 49 –50; and migration, 91; and Myanmar, 113; 9/11 and Iraq, 113 –15; in Non-Aligned Movement, 112; “omni-directional” foreign policy, 111; political coups, 51, 112; response to 1980s global recession, 59; in SEATO, 29, 48 –50; Thanat relations with US, 50, 52; Toyota in, 86t– 87t; and Trump, 152; US aid to, 51; US alliance with, 48 –52, 111–15; in Vietnam War, 50 –52 Thaksin, Shinawatra, 113 –14 Thanat, Khoman, 50 –52 Thannarat, Sarat, 51 Thelen, Kathleen, 6, 193n52 Tillerson, Rex, 151, 153 Tow, William, 6, 8, 137 Toyota Motor Company, 15, 86t– 87t, 87 Track 1.5, 92, 148

242

Index

Track I, 70, 92, 135 Track II, 59, 69, 92, 119, 135, 148 Transaction costs, 15 Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), 93t; and Australia, 164; and FTAs, 142 –44; Obama and, 118, 144 –45, 180; and overlapping regionalism, 173; and RCEP, 145 –47, 165 – 66, 173, 179, 223n152; small states in, 165; and trade liberalization, 166, 179; Trump withdrawal from, 2, 10, 144, 146, 150 –51, 153, 180, 195n91 Trans-Pacific Strategic Economic Partnership Agreement (TPSEPA), 143 –44 Treaty of Amity and Cooperation (TAC), 54, 70, 130, 166 Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation, and Security, 79 Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security, 76 Treaty of San Francisco, 28 Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat (TCS), 92, 93t, 119, 134 –36, 138 –41, 148, 161, 166 – 67 Trilateral Coordination and Oversight Group (TCOG), 93t, 134, 136 Trilateral Strategic Dialogue (TSD), 22, 93t, 119, 135 –38 (135t), 221n105 Trilateral Summit, 92, 93t, 119, 134 –36, 138 –41, 148, 161, 166 – 67 Trilateralism: Australia, 135t, 136 –38; and balancing, 134; and China, 134 –39 (135t); Trilateral Cooperation Secretariat, 138 –39, 141; Trilateral Strategic Dialogue, 22, 93t, 119, 135 –38 (135t), 221n105; US-­Australia-Japan, 136; See also Trilateral Summit Trump, Donald, 1–2, 129, 149 –54, 158, 159, 170, 180 – 81; See also “America-first” foreign policy Truong Tan Sang, 132

lateralism, 4 – 6, 18, 28, 71, 73 – 81, xi–xii; as “least distrusted actor” 30; and liberal international order, 2, 150 –54, 159 – 62, 232n27; mutual defense treaty, 28; nuclear umbrella, 38; objections to EAEG, 65 – 66; preferring global to regional approach, 59; and regional order, 158 – 62; security treaty with Japan (1951), 28, 36; strategic rebalance to Asia, 1; supporting APEC, 61, 64; US–Australia alliance, 44 –48; US–Japan alliance, 36 –39, 74 –78; US–Philippines alliance, 33 –36, 78 – 81, 125 –29, 152; US–South Korea alliance, 39 –44; US– Thailand alliance, 48 –52, 113; veto power in Asia, 81; views of Asia versus Europe, 29; welcoming indigenous regional institutions, 54. See also Bush, George W.; Clinton, Hillary United States Agency for International Development (USAID), 51 United States Army Military Government in Korea (USAMGIK), 40 United States Forces Korea (USFK), 42, 110 United States Information Agency (USIA), 51

United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, 158 United States: “America-first” foreign policy, 150, 170, 180; Asian containment policy, 29; Bill Clinton, 64, 71–72, 75, 76 –77, 81; EASR (East Asian Strategic Review), 75; election of Trump, 1–2; G. H. W. Bush, 68; grand strategy of, 30; as leader in bi-

Xi Jinping, 148, 155 –59, 170, 182, 226n23

Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA), 80, 125 Victor, David G., 163 Vietnam, 57; bilateral alliance with US, 48, 119 –20, 129 –30, 131–33, 211n61; in EAS, 211n61; international students from, 91; and Toyota, 87t; in TPP, 144, 164 – 65; and Trump, 152 Vietnam War: and ASEAN, 53 –54; Australia and, 46 –47; Thailand and, 48 –52, 112 Wang, Yiwei, 227n39 War on terror, 108, 113 –14, 125 Wendt, Alexander, 12 Wesley, Michael, 136

Yeo, George, 62 Yoshida Shigeru, 36 –38 Young, Oran, 168 Zakaria, Fareed, 161 Zoellick, Robert, 68

Studies in Asian Security Amitav Acharya, Chief Editor, American University David Leheny, Chief Editor, Waseda University Rebranding China: Contested Status Signaling in the Changing Global Order Xiaoyu Pu, 2019 The Reputational Imperative: Nehru’s India in Territorial Conflict Mahesh Shankar, 2018 The Indonesian Way: ASEAN, Europeanization, and Foreign Policy Debates in a New Democracy Jürgen Rüland, 2018 Hard Target: Sanctions, Inducements, and the Case of North Korea Stephan Haggard and Marcus Noland, 2017 The Supply Side of Security: A Market Theory of Military Alliances Tongfi Kim, 2016 Protests Against U.S. Military Base Policy in Asia: Persuasion and Its Limits Yuko Kawato, 2015 How India Became Territorial: Foreign Policy, Diaspora, Geopolitics Itty Abraham, 2014 Wronged Empire: Post-Imperial Ideology and Foreign Policy in India and China Manjari Chatterjee Miller, 2013 Looking for Balance: China, the United States, and Power Balancing in East Asia Steve Chan, 2012

sponsored the east-west center, 2004 – 2011 muthiah alagappa, founding series editor Rethinking Japanese Public Opinion and Security: From Pacifism to Realism? Paul Midford, 2010 The Making of Northeast Asia Kent Calder and Min Ye, 2010 Islam and Nation: Separatist Rebellion in Aceh, Indonesia Edward Aspinall, 2009 Political Conflict and Economic Interdependence Across the Taiwan Strait and Beyond Scott L. Kastner, 2009

(Re)Negotiating East and Southeast Asia: Region, Regionalism, and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations Alice D. Ba, 2009 Normalizing Japan: Politics, Identity, and the Evolution of Security Practice Andrew L. Oros, 2008 Reluctant Restraint: The Evolution of China’s Nonproliferation Policies and Practices, 1980 –2004 Evan S. Medeiros, 2007 Why Taiwan? Geostrategic Rationales for China’s Territorial Integrity Alan M. Wachman, 2007 Beyond Compliance: China, International Organizations, and Global Security Ann Kent, 2007 Dangerous Deterrent: Nuclear Weapons Proliferation and Conflict in South Asia S. Paul Kapur, 2007 Minimum Deterrence and India’s Nuclear Security Rajesh M. Basrur, 2006 Rising to the Challenge: China’s Grand Strategy and International Security Avery Goldstein, 2005 Unifying China, Integrating with the World: Securing Chinese Sovereignty in the Reform Era Allen Carlson, 2005 Rethinking Security in East Asia: Identity, Power, and Efficiency Edited J. J. Suh, Peter J. Katzenstein, and Allen Carlson, 2004