It just won’t go away—and it may be Asia’s contemporary equivalent to Archduke Ferdinand, whose assassination sparked World War I.
In recent weeks, a nearly daily occurrence near the disputed rocks are visits by Chinese ships. Carefully chosen maritime-surveillance or fisheries-agency (not military) ships have hovered on waters just outside the twelve-mile territorial limits (but inside the two-hundred-mile economic zone) of the Senkaku islands, which Japan controls and China calls the Diaoyu. These five lonely islets jutting out of the East China Sea are inhabited by a few dozen goats.
But the Sino-Japanese dispute has heated up in recent months. Nationalist sentiments are coming to a boil and crippling relations between two of the world’s largest economies. These tensions are emblematic of larger trends in East Asia. South Korea and Japan are also in the midst of a similar dispute over even smaller and more inconsequential rocks, Dokdo, which are called Takeshima by Japan. So spun up are the Koreans (not coincidentally in an election year) that their President Lee Myung-bak became the first Korean leader to ever visit the rocks last August. The Korean government, at public expense, supports a single couple living there so they can say it is inhabited. Lee called the tiny specks of land “a place worth staking our lives to defend.”
And it doesn’t end there. In the South China Sea, similar disputes exist between China and Vietnam over the Paracel islands; there are also the Spratlys, where China is pitted against Vietnam, the Philippines and Malaysia (each with claims over one or more of the tiny reefs).
This is about far more than the rocks and the purported (and much exaggerated) oil and gas lying offshore of the various islets. In fact, what recoverable oil and gas that is adjacent to any of the disputed territories is highly unlikely to garner the investment required in offshore-drilling technology, until the legal and political status of the respective territories is resolved. Rational actors would opt for joint economic development. Nor is it about strategic advantage in the shipping lanes. Who, besides pirates or terrorists, has an interest in shutting down global trade?
History Strikes Back
The core of these disputes is much more troubling than any of these geopolitical considerations. That’s because it is not something rational actors can reason their way through. It is highly emotional and irrational—so much that it is putting a nearly $20 trillion regional economy at risk.
In the case of Japan and both China and South Korea, it is primarily about historical memory scarring the respective national narratives of two proud, highly successful, modern economic and political powers. This was articulated recently by Liu Xiaoming, China’s Ambassador to the United Kingdom, writing in the Financial Times:
Many historians have compared postwar Japan and Germany. Their conclusions are consistent: unlike Germany, Japan has never seriously reflected on its behavior during the second world war. War criminals are still worshipped at the Yasakuni shrine in Tokyo. . . . Japan’s leaders have occasionally offered grudging apologies but these have never convinced its neighbors.
This pathological predicament gives new meaning to the term “living history.” Unhealed psychic wounds, including a sense of humiliation and shame in response to the trauma of Japan’s colonial roles in both Korea (1910-45) and China (in the 1930s) grate against the buoyant economies and dignity of both the ROK and China. Even accounting for the political excesses of a generational leadership transition in China and a presidential election in the ROK, such nationalist outpourings cut to the essence of national identities of modern China and Korea. There is also an element of national memory at play in Sino-Vietnam disputes in the South China Sea. Though U.S. policymakers in the 1970s seemed oblivious to it, China and Vietnam have a two-thousand-year history of confrontation.