I’ve become something of an artificial-intelligence addict in recent months, seeing whether its tools can keep abreast of public (as opposed to political) debate, here and abroad. Bots can scan and summarise foreign-language videos, radio phone-ins and social media. The chatter can offer clues, for example, on why Russians are still volunteering to die in Ukraine, or what English students really think of BTECs. And — perhaps the most important question today — what southeast Asia now thinks of America.
There are, of course, no prizes for guessing what Cambodia, Vietnam, Thailand and Indonesia made of Donald Trump’s tariffs. For decades these countries have loyally served as America’s workshop, making affordable clothes, trainers, iPads and more. Now, they’re being accused of pillage and subjected to tariffs of up to 49 per cent. The general reaction is one of dismay, bewilderment and talk about how the “world has changed”. Often, this is code for reassessing relations with China.
For Xi Jinping, the timing is perfect. His tour of southeast Asia begins in Vietnam on Monday, a charm offensive presenting China as the saner, more dependable trade partner. For years, Beijing has told its neighbours they’ve made a strategic mistake in siding with Uncle Sam. China’s economy is 15 times larger than it was at the turn of the century. It is the largest trading partner of most Asian democracies. Every year, links grow stronger. So might it make sense, given recent events, to deepen these ties?
China’s neighbours have long feared its intentions and methods. Vietnamese fishermen are routinely roughed up by Chinese forces for venturing into contested waters. But the main alternative — the global free-trade system, governed by World Trade Organisation rules — has just been torn up by its architect, forcing everyone to reassess.
Singapore’s prime minister put it in sombre terms. What the US is doing is not trade reform, he said, “it’s rejecting the very system it created … These are not actions one does to a friend.” That’s the polite way of putting it. It doesn’t take much to find others, across Asia, being less polite.
We have this from a worker in Vietnam, where Chinese factories are now huge employers: “My family depends on my electronics gig. Trump’s tariffs could wipe us out: 46 per cent is a death sentence.” From the Philippines: “17 per cent tariff means my brother’s factory job in Cavite might disappear. How’s he supposed to feed his kids?” And in Malaysia: “I’ve been welding parts for US exports for 15 years. With 24 per cent, my shop won’t survive and I’m too old to start again.”
This month, a poll asked people in 11 southeast Asian countries which side they’d take if forced to choose between the US and China. It ended up 52-48 for America, a close result for a region that leant heavily towards Washington just a few years ago. And this was before Trump dangled his Asian partners over a trade cliff by their ankles and asked how they liked the view.
It’s not just the Asians who are reassessing alliances. Bernard Guetta, a French MEP and arch China critic, says it may be time to reach for the long spoon and sup with the Chinese. “By promoting unthinkable policies, Trump could force us to look for unthinkable and unpalatable solutions,” he says. He proposes “backdoor alliances” of sorts. There’s talk of an EU-China trade summit, perhaps in July, where Ursula von der Leyen may not drive the hardest of bargains.
Pedro Sánchez, Spain’s prime minister, isn’t waiting that long. He was with Xi yesterday, his third visit in three years. France’s foreign minister was there last month. But Beijing airport is also busy with a good number of Brits. It emerged yesterday that Douglas Alexander, the trade minister, is making an unannounced trip. Even the head of the British military, Admiral Sir Tony Radakin, has been paying a visit. Chinese officials said it was about “co-operation between the two militaries”, which raises far more questions than it answers. Perhaps it’s part of a plan to peel China away from Russia. Perhaps it’s to unnerve the Americans. Whatever the motive, a new great game seems to be under way.
The last time Britain played, it ended in humiliation. David Cameron and George Osborne could not have been more flattering: their great kowtow saw them arriving in China with a planeload of contract-hungry businessmen. Xi was offered deals to help the UK build civil nuclear supply, a hugely sensitive area. It was all for naught: Britain ended up with an ever-shrinking share of Chinese investment and imports. This was a “golden era” without any gold, a case study in diplomatic naivety.
Europe will likely find the same dead end. Partly because the Chinese are not much interested in the petrol cars Germans are desperately trying to sell. But most of it is political. With China, trade is never just trade. It’s a tool of influence, regularly exercised. Australia’s suggestion of an inquiry into the origins of Covid hit trade between the two countries. Any country that welcomes the Dalai Lama sees its exports to China fall soon after. If you allow Taiwan to open anything resembling an official office, as Lithuania did, sales to China can collapse.
Tariff wars will hurt China economically but won’t devastate. Perhaps its economic growth will slow to 4 per cent this year, still far stronger than any European country can hope for. Trump’s decision to press ahead with Chinese tariffs suggests he thinks Xi may buckle, but that seems far from clear. A duvet maker near Nanjing said in one social media post that exports to the US make up 90 per cent of his business — but he’s happy Xi has retaliated. “Only when a great country stands up can citizens have dignity,” he says. “Sacrifice isn’t scary. Surrender is scary!” He may end up in the gulag if he said anything different, of course, but this is a sample of the mood music in China.
America used to fight wars to stem China’s influence in Asia. The strategy in recent years was to use trade, spread wealth, win hearts and minds. It was working — and could still work. But while Trump’s 90-day pause dangles tariffs over Asia like the Sword of Damocles, he’s doing Xi’s spin for him. This is why public opinion in Asia matters: it reveals a loss of soft power that could be more costly to America in the long run than whatever tariffs might bring in.
Britain, at least, doesn’t face a dilemma on which side to back. An erratic, indecisive America is still a better bet than a perfectly behaved communist superpower that knows only too well what it wants. The next few months will be agonising for southwest Asians who do end up abandoned. But for Sir Keir Starmer, the choice between China and America is no choice at all.
