Introduction

The unfolding of the affairs of nations rarely corresponds neatly with the beginning and end of the calendar year, and the experience of the Philippines in 1986 was no exception. The dramatic events of 1986, the high point of which was the toppling of the Marcos regime by a non-violent revolution in February, were inextricably rooted in the political and economic crises that had wracked the country since the assassination of Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino, Jr. in August 1983. Likewise, many of the daunting problems and challenges facing the Philippines in the post-Marcos era will not begin to be resolved until well into 1987, if at all.

Despite this seamless flow of events, the changes that occurred in the relatively short span of twelve months created a dramatically new political environment in the Philippines by the end of 1986. At the beginning of the year, for example, Ferdinand Marcos, weakening but still powerful, was marshalling the intimidating powers of his presidential office and political machine to assure his re-election in the face of the strongest political challenge ever to his twenty-year rule. At year end, Marcos was in exile in Hawaii and President Corazon (“Cory”) Aquino sought to fend off challenges from both the left and the right as she struggled to consolidate her still shaky political position and define and pursue the policy agenda of her coalition government.

In January, the leadership of the Philippine Armed Forces appeared to be loyal to President Marcos, despite the growing prominence of the Reform the Armed Forces Movement (RAM). By December, however, Defence Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and his RAM followers had gone from being heroes of the February revolution to being outcasts as a result of their challenge to the Aquino government. Meanwhile, General Fidel Ramos, the other “Hero of EDSA (Epifania de los Santos Avenue)”, opted to support the Aquino government, and by doing so, strengthened his position as a key figure in the Aquino administration.

At the start of the year the communist insurgency continued to grow, and perversely, the insurgency issue was used effectively by Marcos to criticize the Aquino candidacy and justify his continued rule. By December the communists had recovered from their politically damaging boycott of the February election and were using a fragile sixty-day cease-fire to mount an effective public relations campaign.

The region now known as Southeast Asia has been called the Malay World, Malay Archipelago, Nusantara, East Indies, the Far East, and Southeast Asia or the ASEAN region. All these terms are still in use in various contexts for different purposes, quite often interchangeably, for instance, in books on the history of Southeast Asia available for undergraduate teaching across the globe.

The region physically includes mainland and maritime components. The “Malay World” is being used by a number of academic institutions and publications in Malaysia, Indonesia and the United Kingdom. Others prefer to use Nusantara, instead, the old Javanese terminology for “archipelago”. It refers to the maritime area of Southeast Asia. When British naturalists, explorers and biological scientists analysed the flora and fauna of the maritime region, they preferred to use the term “Malay Archipelago”. The French, German, Austrian and British orientalists of the nineteenth century refer to this maritime geophysical space as part of the Far East.

The term “Southeast Asia” that refers to the present mainland and maritime parts of the region was first used by American priest and educator Howard Malcom in 1837. During the Second World War, a century later, the Allied forces established a South-East Asia Command (SEAC) in 1943 that covered the areas previously known as the Dutch East Indies; British Burma, Malaya and Borneo; French Indochina; and Thailand. In 1944, the Washington D.C.–based National Geographic Society published the first map of Southeast Asia as we know it today, based on SEAC's military concept.

What is significant is that each of these names or labels for the region was constructed with different sets of knowledge content serving the specific purposes of whoever its originators were — imperialists, colonialists, researchers or academicians. The knowledge produced, based on empirical evidence derived from this region, often enriched the global discourse on a particular theory or concept.

For instance, the contribution of Alfred Russel Wallace (1858) was instrumental in establishing the “natural selection theory”, based on his eight-year research in the Malay Archipelago that was accepted and recognized by Charles Darwin himself. Similarly, the internationally well-known theory of “plural society” by J.S. Furnivall (1948), that was well received and applied widely in Africa and Latin America, was based on his research in Indonesia and Burma, which formed the empirical core of his theory.

Introduction

In 2013, Chinese President Xi Jinping announced a pair of initiatives that aims to restructure the economy and geopolitics of Eurasia. The Silk Road Economic Belt announced by Xi Jinping in September 2013 during a tour of Central Asian neighbours is a programme to build land transportation corridors that connect China to Europe and all other major Eurasian subregions, including Indochina, South Asia, and Southwest Asia. Then in October 2013, Xi visited Indonesia and announced the 21st Century Maritime Silk Road, which is a port development initiative to broaden Chinese trade channels targetting the maritime regions of Southeast Asia, South Asia, the Middle East, East Africa, and the Mediterranean. Xi Jinping's two Silk Road programmes are a package called the “One Belt — One Road” [yidai — yilu] initiative.

Both Xi Jinping and Premier Li Keqiang spent great effort in the year 2014 launching concrete measures to advance the silk roads agenda of Eurasian connectivity and regional cooperation. They hope to build a comprehensive trans-Eurasian network of economic corridors that could sustain China's economic growth and strengthen China's political leverage for decades to come. The consequence would be to draw the countries of Eurasia into China's economic orbit to form what Xi Jinping calls a “community of shared destiny”. Members’ fortunes would rise as China's own rise continued. A culturally and politically diverse but economically integrated division of labour harmoniously organized by China's trade and financial interests is what China promises. If this vision is fully realized, China's silk roads vision will help realize “the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation” and the “China Dream” of a wealthy society grounded on Chinese values.

It should be noted that this yidai — yilu agenda is a work in progress rather than a fully drawn up master plan. That is, as previous Chinese leaders have done, Xi Jinping is providing a grand strategic vision or agenda for China. The Chinese Communist Party and government must work to realize this agenda to the best of their ability. So, for the rest of Xi Jinping's years in power — expected to last until 2022 — we will hear about the two Silk Roads at every meeting that Xi Jinping or Li Keqiang attends in Europe, Africa, the Middle East and Asia.

Paradigm Lost — Changing Foreign Policy Models

During the mid- to late-1980s, a major transformation took place in how Vietnam's policy élite conceptualized foreign policy. The roots of this transformation are twofold. They lie in domestic circumstances arising from the socio-economic crisis which confronted Vietnam at that time. And secondly, they lie in external influences arising from the “new political thinking” fashionable in Gorbachev's Soviet Union. Vietnam turned from a foreign policy model heavily structured by ideological considerations to a foreign policy model which placed greater emphasis on national interest, balance of power and realpolitik. Vietnamese analysts now tend to emphasize global economic forces and the impact of the revolution in science and technology over military aspects of power when weighing the global balance. The old and new foreign policy models are not mutually exclusive. Ideology and national interest are not dichotomous terms; they can and do overlap and co-exist.

The influence of ideology on Vietnam's foreign policy prior to the mid- to late- 1980s may be illustrated as follows. From the inception of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam as an established state in Southeast Asia in 1954, its élite accepted the “two camp” thesis that the world was divided between the forces of socialism and imperialism. In the late 1960s Vietnam adopted a framework known as the “three revolutionary currents”. According to this model, global order was determined by three trends (or revolutionary currents): the strength of the socialist camp headed by the Soviet Union; the strength of the workers’ movement in advanced industrial countries; and by the strength of the forces of national liberation in the Third World. In practical terms, Vietnam allied itself with the Soviet Union as the “cornerstone” of its foreign policy. Hanoi's leaders also viewed Indochina as a strategic entity and sought to develop an integrated alliance system with Laos and Cambodia. Vietnam's 1978 invasion of Cambodia and 25-year treaty of friendship and co-operation with the Soviet Union were logical end products of this orientation. They resulted in a decadelong polarization of regional relations. Vietnam was left isolated and dependent on the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe for economic support.

Amid worldwide salutes and suspicion, China's international strategy took full shape in 2015. While many observers find increasing opportunities in China's multiple initiatives to enhance regional and global development as well as economic cooperation, others see an ever more assertive China, projecting might with its growing wealth. Especially for Southeast Asian nations, the most susceptible to China's moves due to their proximity to and close economic ties with China, the many new Chinese initiatives have brought both hope and challenges. Now that three years have passed since President Xi Jinping took office and the basic framework of China's international strategy has been established, it is time to examine the new features of China's international endeavours and draw salient implications for the future trends of its political, security and economic relations with the world, and in particular with its closest neighbour, ASEAN.

From the author's perspective, despite its widely perceived image as a revisionist, hegemony-seeking power, China has maintained its course of peaceful rise, and its new international strategy features more continuity than change. Nevertheless, with the evolving geopolitical environment of the world and bigger stakes in regional stability and global economic well-being, China has made many adjustments to its international strategy under the new leadership. If effectively implemented and well understood by other nations, this strategy will not only help achieve the grand “Chinese Dream”, but also boost global peace and development as well as regional stability and integration.

Old Ambition, New Approach: Five Changes to China's International Strategy

The peaceful and inward-focused nature of China's rise was reaffirmed when President Xi put forward China's strategic goal to achieve the “Chinese Dream”, a new name for the century-long ambition for “the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation”, on 29 November 2012, only two weeks after he was elected as General Secretary of the Communist Party of China (CPC). Despite occasional headstrong behaviour since then, China has in general demonstrated a peaceful and constructive stance in the international arena, and domestic reform and development have remained its first and foremost strategic targets.

On 5–6 July 1997, troops loyal to Second Prime Minister Hun Sen (of the Cambodian People's Party, or CPP) and those of First Prime Minister Norodom Ranariddh (leader of the royalist party known as FUNCINPEC, or the National United Front for an Independent, Neutral, Peaceful, and Co-operative Cambodia) engaged in a fierce street battle in Phnom Penh. The fighting stunned the Cambodian people and the world. Within two days, the CPP force defeated its enemy, and then pushed the remnants against the northern Thai- Cambodian border into a tiny strategic area called O Smach. At year's end, Hun Sen still held high the trophy of victory.

This article seeks to explore the events of July 1997. At issue is whether or not what took place constitutes a coup; and, if it is a coup, what kind? I argue that the overthrow of Ranariddh was a coup, not a social revolution or putsch. Unlike coups in many other countries, however, it was not caused by factors such as ethnic or ideological antagonisms, sociopolitical turmoil, or military dominance. I take a structural approach, arguing that Hun Sen's actions must be explained in terms of his struggle for hegemonic preservation, as his party and adversaries braced themselves for the next election scheduled for 1998. (In this study, the term “hegemon” means “leader”, and struggle for hegemony simply means struggle for political leadership.) Although the Second Prime Minister has now achieved political dominance, preventing bipolarity from emerging, he has also recreated Cambodia's old power structure, prone to coups, violence, and war.

Prelude to a Pre-Emptive Coup

In the debate over whether Hun Sen's actions were or were not a coup, those who supported or sympathized with the Second Prime Minister viewed them as preventing Prince Ranariddh from staging a coup against the government. Those who put the blame on Hun Sen considered his actions a coup. It may be worth describing politico-military developments leading to the July events and then examining the two opposing perspectives more closely.

In May 1993, elections were organized by the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC), which intervened in the country following the Paris Agreement in October 1991.

The wheel of fortune turns for most people but for the Vietnamese, it seems to have long remained immobile. Nearly two years ago, when the Paris Peace Agreement was signed, war-weary Vietnamese took heart that somehow the wheel would finally turn to their advantage. Although few were naïve enough to expect miracles, or that the next couple of years would be an easy time, many began to talk of post-war reconstruction. Most people had hoped that the framework established in the Paris Agreement, agreed to by signatory parties, would somehow transform the bloody struggle of the battlefields to a less violent competition in the political arena. Unfortunately their hopes did not materialize. Indeed, all that the Paris Agreement has achieved thus far has been to put an end to the direct U.S. involvement in the Indochina conflict and allow President Nixon to fulfil his promise of bringing the “boys” home. As far as Vietnam is concerned, the fighting has continued unabated; casualties are still high; and the prospects for a rapid political settlement is just as illusory today as when the Agreement was signed. With the South Vietnamese economy rapidly deteriorating, ordinary Vietnamese discover that living in “post-war” Vietnam is not much of an improvement from the days of the war itself.

This paper attempts to review and assess the significant political, economic, and social events that took place in South Vietnam in 1974. In so doing, the major trends of the country will be brought into sharper focus.

Major Political Trends

The year 1974 was one in which the government of the Republic of South Vietnam (GVN) has had to face some of the most serious challenges since it came into power. Jostled along by political currents, both external and internal, the political base of the government has been seriously eroded.

Adversary Challenges

On the military front, GVN's competition with the Provisional Revolutionary Government (PRG) and the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV) has not diminished as a result of the cease-fire agreement. In fact, there has been little doubt as to the PRG's and DRV's capability of launching a full-scale military offensive.

The coup on 22 May 2014 in Thailand has, for the present, caused a break in the political divide and impasse, a problem that the previous elected government was unable to solve. Many were worried that the deeply entrenched political polarization which had existed for almost a decade would lead to bloodshed if it was allowed to continue. So many questions were asked on what went wrong with the presumed Thai democracy. Why did the coup happen? What would be the future of democracy in Thailand? How can it be consolidated? These questions reflect that Thailand is facing a serious problem of democratic consolidation.

Many scholars on democratization agree that the road to a stable democracy is not always smooth. They agree that democratic consolidation in many countries is not an easy task, and Thailand is no exception.

Democratic consolidation depends on a variety of factors which vary from one country to another. Nonetheless, one of the major causes for the instability of a democratic regime is related to political legitimacy. Any political regime which does not secure legitimacy will find it hard to survive since its legitimacy depends on its acceptance by its citizens as expressed through major political forces. There is no need at this stage to debate in detail here how to develop and fortify a democratic regime's legitimacy. However, it is accepted that the essential requirement for strengthening such legitimacy is the regime's effectiveness in meeting the needs of its people and the implementation of democratic values, practices and procedures.

Political Polarization and the Crisis of Political Legitimacy

In the case of Thailand during the past decade, we have witnessed a deeply entrenched political polarization which had never reached such extreme levels in the past. This divisiveness, initially caused by a conflict between the pro- and anti- Thaksin groups, later developed into a crisis of political legitimacy. The anti-Thaksin group was formed around 2001 by a mass media tycoon, Sonthi Limthongkul, and later joined by some prominent political elites, notably Chamlong Srimuang, former Governor of Bangkok. In the beginning, the group was composed of thousands from the urban middle class and some upper-middle class who believed that Thaksin was leading the country towards one party rule.

For anybody working on Southeast Asia, the ISEAS – Yusof Ishak Institute (hereafter ISEAS) has been a “light on the hill”, a beacon of warm hospitality and serious scholarship for fifty years. ISEAS has quickly established itself as unquestionably the leading institution in the field, a great testimony to the vision of its founders and to the wonderful work of its staff, past and present.

In what is arguably its flagship publication, Southeast Asian Affairs (hereafter SEAA) has been published annually since 1974. Each year, the Southeast Asian community, both within and beyond the region, and from the academic, policy, media and NGO worlds, eagerly awaits the arrival of this volume.

The series has generally followed a winning formula that has clearly stood the test of time. There are general overviews of politics, international relations, economics and social affairs. Then follows detailed country surveys highlighting, interpreting and assessing recent developments. The guiding principle has been to invite scholars with a deep knowledge of the subject matter to write analytical yet accessible and concise papers looking backwards and forward.

Perusing the pages of the present volume — Turning Points and Transitions: Selections from Southeast Asian Affairs 1974–2018 — the reader is introduced to a veritable “who's who” of Southeast Asian Studies since the 1970s: Wang Gungwu, Chan Heng Chee, Michael Leifer, Rodolfo Severino, Sharon Siddique, Sjahrir, Suchit Bunbongkarn, and many, many others.

Appropriately, the editors have selected papers that call attention to key turning points and trends in the region. These are well reflected in some of the chapter titles: “the handling of contradictions”, “the ASEAN economic miracle unravels”, “from Bali to Iraq”, “Kampuchea 1979– 81”, “the fall of Soeharto and the rise of Habibie”, “what went wrong with the Thai democracy?”, among many other arresting titles.

The timing of this volume is propitious. It is an opportunity to celebrate ISEAS's fiftieth birthday, to showcase its unrivalled network of scholars and to reflect on the “journey” that the region has taken since 1974. Few if any regions of the world can match Southeast Asia for its dynamism, its diversity, its rising economic and political coherence, and its effective international engagement. All these dimensions are evident in this wide-ranging volume.

While election years in Cambodia are always eventful, 2017 proved to be even more so than expected. While the months leading to the June commune elections brought the customary machinations and jitters, it was the post-election developments that dashed whatever hope for political change may have been engendered by the results of the last two elections. As the ruling Cambodian People's Party (CPP) moved to consolidate its power in anticipation of the forthcoming elections in 2018, the country spiralled away from whatever measure of political openness may have been achieved in recent years. While election-related violence is not unprecedented, as forecast in the frequent references to “colour revolution” and imminent eruption of “social chaos”, the crackdown against regime opponents in the months following the June elections was wholesale and decisive. The consequences affect not only the upcoming 2018 elections but potentially the next electoral cycle as well. The hoped-for democratic transition into which the international community had poured massive financial and political investment over the last quarter of a century appears more elusive than ever.

Still smarting from its precarious win in the 2013 elections, the CPP was confronted with yet another disconcerting outcome in the 2017 commune elections. Despite the ruling party's efforts to turn the political tide, the Cambodian National Rescue Party (CNRP) successfully secured 5,007 council seats (to the CPP's 6,503) and 489 out of the 1,646 commune chief seats, a tenfold increase from their win in the 2012 elections. Though short of the 60 per cent that the party had projected, the CNRP did secure 44 per cent of the vote, compared to the CPP's 51 per cent. This narrowing margin is significant because it reveals not only a wide base of support for the opposition in urban centres but, even more significantly, an erosion of the CPP's political control in rural areas that have been the party's traditional base, where the majority of Cambodians live and where the ruling party has long-established political infrastructure. At 85 per cent of registered voters, voter turnout was impressively high, an indicator of popular optimism about the prospect of change, bolstered in no small part by the earlier performance of the opposition party, despite the preponderant power and repressive grip of the CPP.

Introduction: Change from New to Old

Change is not always about the new. Occasionally, it is about the reappearance of the old. This is easily missed in a country that takes deep pride in perpetual selftransformation, and nowhere was this more evident than in the 7 May 2011 Singapore General Election (GE2011). In the wake of the most thoroughly contested general elections in generations, the mainstream media and pundits alike sought to capture this sense of change with a variety of phrases such as the “new normal” and “watershed”, suggesting that the 61 per cent of the popular vote won by the People's Action Party (PAP) — its lowest since independence — has resulted in a different Singapore, one that has broken away from the norm. Such hyperbole is understandable and not entirely inaccurate, but greater contextualization will show that sometimes the old reappears as the new.

GE2011 was historically important for a couple of reasons. It saw the largest number of voters ever — 2.3 million, increasing from 2.1 million in 2006 and 2 million in 2001. It also gave us a quick glimpse into the future of Singapore politics because it saw the largest ever participation of first-time voters — 200,000 — as well as the largest number of younger voters with an estimated 600,000 out of 2.3 million between the ages of 21 and 35. The candidates from the various political parties reflect this youthful demographic too. However, the fact that the ruling PAP was not returned to government on Nomination Day is not new. While 2011 saw 82 out of 87 seats contested, it must be remembered that 2006 saw 56 per cent of the seats contested (47 out of 84). And if we cast our minds back further to 1980, we will remember that 38 out of 68 Parliamentary seats were contested; in 1976 53 out of 69 seats were contested; and in 1972 57 seats out of 65 were contested. The lesson: the PAP could only take its incumbency for granted from the 1980s onwards. GE2006 and GE2011 mark a return to the old.

GE2011 was also keenly contested because of the credible slate of Opposition candidates.

For Brunei Darussalam, 2015 was primarily about the dilemma of maintaining domestic stability in the face of significant regional and global instability in areas of particular vulnerability for Southeast Asia's smallest country. Plummeting global energy prices saw the country's once extremely large current account surplus reverse into a large deficit. At the same time, as the smallest and weakest claimant in the South China Sea, Brunei has the fewest means to counter the effects of growing Chinese assertiveness, U.S.–China rivalry, and ASEAN ineffectiveness in relation to these disputed waters that lap on to the shores of the Sultanate. Aided by significant long-standing financial, political and diplomatic reserves, Brunei Darussalam was able to maintain an impressive level of social, political and diplomatic stability in these challenging times. On the economic and diplomatic fronts, Bandar Seri Begawan responded by enhancing existing relations and assets and seeking greater diversification. On the social and political fronts, the response was one of greater conservatism and centralization. As Brunei Darussalam's economic problems are significant and structural, the responses will have to pass the test of time for the country to overcome them.

More than Headwinds

Even a cursory glance at Table 1 shows how dramatically the Brunei economy was affected by falling energy prices. And yet, the growth estimates for 2015 are based on inflated price assumptions for both oil and liquefied natural gas, so the reality will likely be even worse. Likewise, current market movements suggest that the IMF price assumptions going forward err on the side of optimism.

The Sultan, His Majesty Haji Hassanal Bolkiah, is well aware that the country's hydrocarbon resources will eventually expire, possibly as early as 2025, and has tried to extend their life in recent years by capping production. The volume of oil production reportedly is now a full 40 per cent less than in 2006.1 In 2015 the scheduled and unscheduled maintenance of some of the most important energy projects has further hit production. However, the short-term costs of the policy have been exacerbated by the global collapse in the value of hydrocarbons with the price of crude oil having fallen from above US$100 in mid-2014 to less than US$30 per barrel by January 2016 and the value of natural gas per million Btu (British Thermal Unit) having fallen from over US$6 to nearly US$2 during the same period.

The “Fukuda Doctrine”

Manila was the last stop on Prime Minister Takeo Fukuda's tour of Southeast Asia. There, on 18 August, he delivered his noteworthy speech on Japan's policy towards that region. Japanese news media have billed the event as an epoch-making unveiling of what they call the “Fukuda Doctrine”, finding deep significance in the very fact that such a speech was made. While I would not go so far as to call the contents of the Manila address a “doctrine”, it is certainly the first time since the Second World War that a Japanese Prime Minister has made such a systematic presentation of views on relations with Southeast Asia.

The main points of the speech were as follows: first, Japan is committed to peace and to the role of an economic power; it will not become a military power. Secondly, as “an especially close friend” of ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), Japan will co-operate in efforts to strengthen the solidarity of that organization. Thirdly, Japan will emphasize “heart-to-heart” contacts, building stronger ties as an equal partner not only economically, but in the social, political, and cultural realms as well. Fourthly, Japan will forge particularly close economic and trade relations with the countries of Southeast Asia and continue to deal with them in the context of the world economy. Fifthly, Japan will also attempt to foster relations based on mutual understanding with the nations of Indochina. Prime Minister Fukuda phrased these points as the “pillars” of Japan's Southeast Asian policy.

No doubt the real intentions behind the Prime Minister's speech will be interpreted variously as time goes on, but my immediate impression is that his approach came out of a compromise between an aggressive Japanese stance advocating active, full-scale involvement in Southeast Asia, and a passive view similar to the Meiji period's “dissociation from Asia” thesis, which holds that Japan must avoid deep involvement in that region. Be that as it may, the very fact that Japan should publicly announce any sort of a “doctrine” at all on this subject is fraught with significance.

Role of Japan and the U.S. in Southeast Asia

A broad historical background underlies these events; the force of its logic has pushed Japan into the stage centre of Asian regional politics, irrespective of the will of the Japanese people.

The year 1976 for Vietnam was the first since 1858 — a total of 117 years — that the country was entirely free of Western colonial intervention. During this first year of independence, the country had to face a multifaceted challenge: that of bringing back national unity (disrupted since 1862), repairing the massive physical destruction, and overcoming the economic, cultural and social dislocations that had occurred during the Thirty-Year War (1945–75). Beyond these immediate problems, the first year of peace was also one when the foundations were laid for the country's future ideological, economic and institutional structure and for its selfassertion in international affairs. In more specific terms, 1976 was a year of hectic transitional activities which included the administrative restructuring of the country, nationwide elections for a National Assembly of the reintegrated country, a new formal name for the country (“The Socialist Republic of Vietnam”), and planned industrial and agricultural transformations designed to give the country a foundation for rapid economic and social development.

This article attempts to review the principal aspects of Vietnam's public life during 1976. This is done while recognizing the hazards of such an undertaking. Aside from the risks inherent in “instant history” — in effecting from afar a year-end review of the development process of any society — there are special problems awaiting those who study contemporary Vietnam. Most of these problems are associated with the fact that Vietnam, unlike other societies, is a divided country in the process of becoming one. While it is true that formally and juridically the country was reintegrated on the State plane during 1976, due to long years of partition and especially the difference in the socio-political regimes that governed the two regions, the reality of the existence of the two zones remains vivid. This could be observed in the postwar reconstruction efforts and in the transformations of the social, economic and institutional aspects of each zone. The North, as we shall see momentarily, greatly suffered from the war in material terms (far more than the South in many ways, due to the massive terroristic bombings); yet, it has the advantage of a stable political, social and economic structure and an experienced leadership.

Introduction

It was at the 1992 Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) Summit that the six states made a stronger commitment to a liberal trade regime through the instrument of the Common Effective Preferential Tariff (CEPT). They decided to establish an ASEAN Free Trade Area (AFTA).

Coming on the heels of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and Europe 1992, AFTA did not evolve from a comprehensive and detailed programme of liberalization complete with rules and procedures. In fact the agreement incorporating AFTA was less than 10 pages. Compare this with the NAFTA document exceeding 2,000 pages. Yet AFTA stands out among all attempts in ASEAN at economic co-operation in several ways. First, this was the first time that ASEAN described free trade as its eventual goal, a break from its previous mind-set of cautious liberalization. Second, the Heads of Governments in ASEAN identified 15 product groups for accelerated liberalization, thus avoiding a lengthy process of negotiations among bureaucrats to identify product groups, Third, there was a definite timetable within which free trade would be achieved, that is in 15 years. Finally, the CEPT was a vast improvement over an earlier (1987) programme for enhanced Preferential Trading Arrangements (PTA), which allowed for more automatic liberalization of items, deeper margins of preferences, and more product coverage than under PTA. This latter programme did not really progress substantially, suffered from delays in submission of items for liberalization, and some members were behind schedule for as much as two years.

As shown in Figure 1, the CEPT has two tracks: fast and normal. In the fast track, according to the 1992 agreements, the achievement of free trade was to take place in 10 years, that is by 2003. For items with base tariff rates exceeding 20 per cent, reductions were to be spread over 10 years till 2003. For items with rates below 20 per cent, reductions were to be completed by the year 2000.

In the normal track, tariffs of more than 20 per cent were to be reduced in three stages: to 20 per cent by 2001, 15 per cent by 2003, 10 per cent by 2005 and free trade (0–5 per cent) in 2008. For items with tariff rates less than 20 per cent, reductions were to be completed by 2003.