Asia needs a sustainability paradigm authored by Asians
The global order that once defined prosperity and progress, anchored in Western institutions and values largely shaped by the United States, is unravelling. That is, the unipolar era in which America set the rules for the rest of the world is ending.
In its place, a new constellation of powers is emerging, with Asia at the forefront. Yet amidst this shift in economic and political gravity, the frameworks guiding 'sustainable development' remain firmly rooted in the old order's worldview.
The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), ESG standards and climate finance mechanisms still reflect assumptions born from the Global North—technocratic, metric-heavy and often detached from the lived realities of the Global South. This is the paradox of our time: Asia is rising, but the paradigms are not changing.
Across the region, governments and corporations are racing to align with global sustainability norms. Green bonds are being issued, ESG scores reported and SDG targets integrated into national plans.
On paper, Asia looks like a model pupil. But dig deeper and a troubling pattern emerges: sustainability has become a performance, more about signaling alignment than pursuing actual transformation.
Many countries approach SDGs and ESG as compliance checklists, not as contextual pathways of change. The result is a wave of ESG-washing, carbon colonialism disguised as 'energy transition' and a proliferation of projects that bear the sustainability label but fail to address inequality, ecological degradation or the erosion of local cultures.
This is not a failure of ambition. It is a failure of imagination.
Sustainability frameworks today still carry the DNA of Bretton Woods logic—growth-centered, finance-driven and governed by institutions where the Global South has little real voice.
Even well-intentioned instruments like climate finance often come with rules that reflect the risk appetites of Western investors, not the priorities of frontline communities.
Asia's diversity—its civilizational wisdoms, ecological traditions, and collective ways of living—is rarely acknowledged as a source of sustainability. Instead, the region is cast as a testing ground for external models: carbon trading, green taxonomy and blended finance.
These tools may have value, but when imposed without adaptation, they risk becoming the new tools of dependency rather than emancipation.
If Asia continues down this path, it may succeed in appearing sustainable while failing to build systems that are resilient, just and rooted in local meaning.
To break free, Asia needs to reclaim its narrative and redefine what sustainability means—on its own terms. This is not about rejecting the global agenda, but rather reimagining it from the inside out. That is, sustainability must move beyond carbon metrics and GDP growth painted green.
In many Asian cultures, the idea of balance—between humans and nature, individual and community, material and spiritual—has long existed. These are not romanticized relics; they are living philosophies that can inform a richer, more grounded model of development.
Global frameworks love numbers. But not everything that matters can be measured. ESG scores and SDG dashboards cannot capture the strength of a community, the resilience of local economies or the dignity of indigenous governance systems. Asia must define success by its own indicators—ones that reflect life, not just compliance.
Transforming sustainability from a borrowed framework into an endogenous movement also requires courageous institutions. Governments, universities, civil society and businesses must take risks: to pilot alternative models, to question imported standards and to assert the legitimacy of home-grown innovations.
The question is no longer whether Asia can meet global standards of sustainability. The real question is whether the world is ready to meet Asia's.
In a fractured world, Asia does not need to become a hegemon. It does not need to 'win' the sustainability race. Indeed, what it can offer is far more powerful: a new compass, one that centers dignity, relationality and regeneration rather than control, extraction and cosmetic green branding.
Already, seeds of this paradigm exist. From the adat forests of Indonesia to the eco-spiritualism of Bhutan, from cooperative farming in Vietnam to localized disaster governance in the Philippines, Asia is not a blank slate. It is a wellspring of living alternatives hidden in plain sight.
The challenge is not the absence of models – it is the lack of recognition. The post-hegemonic world will be defined not just by shifts in power, but by shifts in meaning.
And in this search for new foundations, sustainability cannot remain a managerial tool of global finance: it must become a civilizational question. Who defines what is worth sustaining? Whose knowledge counts? Whose future are we protecting?
If these questions remain unanswered—or worse, answered only by those at Davos or on Wall Street—then even the greenest of futures may be built on the same old exclusions. But if Asia dares to speak from its roots, not just its rise, it could offer what the world sorely lacks: a sustainability that is not a slogan, but a soul.
Setyo Budiantoro is Nexus Strategist at The Prakarsa, MIT Sloan IDEAS Fellow 2024 and member of the advisory committee of Fair Finance Asia
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Asia Times
2 days ago
- Asia Times
Indonesia torn between China's J-10 and US F-15EX
Indonesia's fighter jet dilemma pits cost, capability, and geopolitical leverage as it weighs China's now-battle-tested J-10s against pricier Western rivals. This month, Reuters reported that Indonesia is evaluating the potential acquisition of China's J-10 fighter jets, weighing their affordability and advanced capabilities against other options, including the US-made F-15EX. Deputy Defense Minister Donny Ermawan Taufanto confirmed that discussions are ongoing with China, which has also reportedly pitched naval vessels and armaments. Indonesia's evaluation considers system compatibility, after-sales support and pricing. The deliberations follow Indonesia's broader military modernization push, which saw the 2022 purchase of 42 French Rafale jets worth US$8.1 billion. Six Rafales are expected to be delivered next year. While Indonesia's interest in the J-10 predates recent India-Pakistan air skirmishes, Pakistan's use of J-10s to down at least one Indian-flown Rafale has added a new dimension to Jakarta's evaluation. Meanwhile, Indonesia is still mulling its planned F-15EX purchase, with questions rising around the $8 billion price tag for 24 jets. France remains a contender, with President Emmanuel Macron's recent visit to Indonesia resulting in a preliminary defense pact that could lead to further Rafale acquisitions. Taufanto emphasized Indonesia's budget constraints and strategic options, noting ongoing assessments of multiple offers. Highlighting the J-10's capabilities, Justin Bronk notes in an October 2020 report by the Royal United Services Institute (RUSI) that the J-10 is China's response to the US F-16 and Swedish Gripen, offering comparable capabilities at a significantly lower acquisition cost. 'Think of the J-10C as roughly equivalent to a late-model F-16, but with some features, like its long-range missile suite, that could give it the edge in certain scenarios,' says David Jordan, a senior lecturer in defense studies at King's College London, in a May 2025 Business Insider article. 'You may well see a very viable competitor to Western products entering contests for the purchase of new fighter aircraft,' says Jordan. However, no matter how capable the J-10 may be on paper, Indonesia's chronic procurement dysfunction, underfunding, weak institutional support and fragmented planning raise serious questions about its ability to field any advanced fighter effectively. 'Indonesia's air force modernization and fleet recapitalization has been marred with multiple challenges, including lack of funding, lack of government commitment, as well as inefficient and highly personalized acquisition policy,' says Olli Suorsa in a March 2021 S Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS) report. For Indonesia's cash-strapped air force, which by all accounts is in serious need of modernization, the J-10 presents a compelling case. However, Indonesia may be proceeding with caution before making its move. Dave Laksono, a senior member of Indonesia's House of Representatives, said that 'unverified claims in conflict zones cannot be used as the sole basis for assessing the effectiveness or failure of a particular weapons system,' according to a May 2025 Defense Security Asia report. 'Even the most advanced jets, such as the F-16, F/A-18, and F-22, have experienced incidents of being shot down or crashed due to certain tactical conditions,' says Laksono. Further, Alfin Bansundoro notes in a June 2024 East Asia Forum article that while Indonesia has previously purchased Chinese weapons, such as CH-4B drones, C-705 and C-802 anti-ship missiles, and TD-2000B self-propelled air defense systems, bilateral territorial disputes over the Natuna Islands cast doubt on future purchases from China. Bansundoro points out that China has sold downgraded weapons to Indonesia several times, mentioning that the former sold the export version of the C-802, known as the YJ-83, which has a reduced range. In addition, he says Indonesia runs the risk of jeopardizing purchases from Western partners if it pushes through with acquiring Chinese weapons, emphasizing the risk of Western economic weaponization. However, Evan Laksmana warns in a May 2024 article for the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) that without a well-institutionalized defense partnership, Indonesia's long-term relationship with China will lack strategic heft and balance. Beyond military cooperation, such arms deals often bleed into economic diplomacy. Fighter jets can act as entry points for deeper bilateral entanglements, requiring long-term cooperation in training, maintenance and logistics. Jake Rinaldi argues in a November 2024 article for the US Army War College that China often pairs arms sales with economic perks, such as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), of which Indonesia is a member. In the Indonesian context, Rinaldi notes that China's arms sales may aim to establish relationships with senior civilian and military leaders, thereby expanding diplomatic and strategic influence. Pointing out the quid pro quo between China and Indonesia, Oene Marseille and other writers mention in a November 2024 article for CDR Essential Intelligence that China has financed major projects, including the Jakarta-Bandung high-speed rail, in exchange for strengthened economic ties. In return, Marseille and others state that Indonesia provides China with access to crucial resources, particularly nickel, for electric vehicle production. However, they note that while Indonesia benefits from economic modernization, China leverages these projects to expand its influence in Southeast Asia, intertwining trade with strategic leverage, while Indonesia cautiously balances partnerships. Although Indonesia has planned to purchase F-15EX jets from the US, a decision to purchase them, like a potential acquisition of China's J-10s, may be driven more by political and economic considerations than by Indonesia's actual defense requirements. An April 2023 D-Insights article reports that Indonesia's plan to purchase F-15EX jets from the US is likely to fail due to cost, as the aircraft are too expensive for the country's limited defense budget. Similar budget issues have strained Indonesia's past cooperation with South Korea on next-generation fighter projects, including delayed payments and alleged data leaks, as reported by the Korean JoongAng Daily in May 2025. D-Insights posits that Indonesia may have raised the possibility of F-15EX purchases to keep good relations with the US, ultimately making it a political gesture more than anything else. Even if driven by politics, Indonesia may still attempt to extract tangible benefits from potential F-15EX purchases. Aryojati Ardipandanto argues in an April 2025 article for Info Singkat that Indonesia could use F-15EX purchases to negotiate the 32% 'reciprocal' tariffs Donald Trump imposed on the country in April and has since paused. Ardipandanto says Indonesia needs the F-15EX as part of its defense diplomacy to blunt the effects of US tariffs on its micro, small and medium enterprises (MSMEs), considering the possibility of layoffs in Indonesian companies that export to the US. Whichever jet Indonesia chooses, the decision will have far-reaching consequences, shaping its defense posture, great power alignments and the price it pays for sovereignty.
Asia Times
2 days ago
- Asia Times
Red flags rising over China's trade surplus with Indonesia
Indonesia's widening trade deficit with China has evolved into more than an economic concern—it now poses the risk of becoming a destabilizing fissure within the country's social fabric and, by extension, ASEAN's regional stability. According to Indonesia's Central Statistics Agency (BPS), between January and April 2025, Chinese imports to Indonesia surged to US$25.8 billion, while Indonesian exports to China stagnated at $18.9 billion. The resulting $6.9 billion deficit, the highest recorded in recent history for such a short period, raises already rising concerns about asymmetry in the bilateral trade relationship. Although Indonesian authorities have attempted to downplay its significance by dismissing suggestions that this is due to the redirection of Chinese exports blocked by US and EU tariffs, the underlying realities paint a different picture. The sectors most affected by Chinese imports —namely, mechanical and electrical machinery, steel, automotive parts, and ceramics —are precisely those where China has long faced overcapacity. With Western markets erecting expanding barriers on Chinese goods in response to perceived unfair trade practices, Southeast Asia, particularly Indonesia, has become a convenient outlet for China's surplus industrial products. In effect, Chinese goods that cannot be sold in the US and EU are being channeled into the Indonesian market, either directly or via re-routing strategies through third countries. This dynamic mirrors the 2018–2020 period of the US-China trade war, when Southeast Asia similarly absorbed a disproportionate amount of redirected Chinese exports. Indonesia's manufacturing base has already begun to show signs of strain from the flood of cut-rate Chinese wares. The once-thriving textile sector, exemplified by the now-defunct Sritex conglomerate in Solo, has been unable to keep up with the price competition from cheap Chinese imports. Small and medium-sized manufacturers in ceramics and steel are also increasingly being squeezed by Made in China goods. Though the Indonesian government has responded by levying anti-dumping duties on select products, such as nylon film from China, Thailand and Taiwan, these actions have largely been reactive and insufficient to counteract the scale and pace of Chinese trade redirection. The longer this continues, the more it will undermine local industry, employment and economic self-sufficiency. The economic repercussions are only one layer of the problem. What makes this fissure particularly dangerous is its potential to metastasize into social tension. Indonesia's multi-ethnic composition includes a sizable Chinese-Indonesian minority that has historically been subject to scapegoating during economic downturns. The riots of May 1998, which led to the collapse of the Suharto regime, serve as a chilling reminder of how quickly economic grievances can morph into ethnic-based violence against ethnic Chinese. In the current climate of economic pressure and increasing unemployment—especially among urban manufacturing workers—there is a real risk that the narrative of Chinese imports 'destroying local industry' could morph into resentment directed at Chinese-Indonesian entrepreneurs, many of whom operate in retail, logistics and trade. In an age where social media can amplify divisive messaging in real-time, the potential for misinformation and targeted ethnic vilification should not be underestimated. At the regional level, Indonesia's predicament reflects a broader structural challenge in ASEAN. Countries like Malaysia, Thailand and Vietnam have also experienced spikes in Chinese imports, particularly in sectors like automobiles and electronics. The nature of these imports—often heavily subsidized and arriving in large quantities at prices below prevailing market rates—suggests deliberate Chinese dumping. Yet ASEAN's current mechanisms are ill-equipped to deal with these surges in a coordinated manner. Each country acts on its own, imposing unilateral anti-dumping tariffs or seeking redress through domestic trade tribunals, thereby diminishing the strength of a collective ASEAN-wide economic position. What is needed is not isolationism but a recalibration of engagement. Indonesia and ASEAN must articulate clearer expectations in their trade relationships with China. Fairness, reciprocity and respect for domestic industries must be at the heart of any economic partnership. The notion that Southeast Asia should serve as China's release valve for overproduction is not only economically detrimental but geopolitically short-sighted. It risks turning ASEAN from a central strategic partner into a passive buffer zone—absorbing external shocks without the tools to respond effectively. Equally important is ASEAN's need to revive its own internal trade capacities. The ASEAN Economic Community was envisioned to deepen intra-regional trade and investment, yet the share of intra-ASEAN trade has remained stagnant at around 22–24% over the past decade. This is far below the intra-regional trade levels of the EU, which stands at around 60%. Reducing non-tariff barriers, streamlining customs procedures and improving regional logistics are all urgent if ASEAN is to build internal economic resilience. Greater economic interdependence within ASEAN would not only mitigate vulnerability to external dumping but also foster shared growth that benefits smaller economies equally. For Indonesia, the road ahead demands bold policy interventions. The country must begin by strengthening its industrial strategy—reinvesting in productivity, technological upgrading and workforce development—so that its manufacturing sectors are not merely shielded but revitalized. Trade defense instruments must be improved, not only in terms of speed and scope but also in coordination with ASEAN partners. The government should also launch public education campaigns that preempt the ethnicization of economic issues. The messaging must be clear: this is not a conflict between ethnic groups but a structural issue in global trade dynamics that requires unity, not division. China, for its part, must recognize that sustaining goodwill in Southeast Asia cannot rely solely on infrastructure investment or diplomatic fanfare. It must pay heed to the social consequences of its trade behaviors. Dumping excess production into Indonesia and other ASEAN markets may offer short-term economic relief for Chinese exporters, but it risks breeding long-term resentment, social instability and strategic blowback in a region vital to China's Belt and Road Initiative ambitions. The growing trade imbalance between Indonesia and China is not yet a fracture—but it is undeniably a fissure, one that reveals the fragile interconnections between economic policy, social harmony and geopolitical alignment. Whether this fissure is widened or closed depends on the wisdom and coordination of both Indonesia's domestic leadership and ASEAN's collective diplomacy. To ignore it would be to misread not only the fragility of Indonesia's pluralistic society but also the limits of ASEAN's absorptive capacity. By addressing this issue with fairness, clarity and resolve, Indonesia can lead the region in forging a more balanced relationship with China—one that respects economic sovereignty, sustains regional stability and ultimately preserves the dignity of Southeast Asia's diverse peoples. Phar Kim Beng, PhD, is professor of ASEAN Studies, International Islamic University Malaysia and senior visiting fellow at the University of Cambridge. Luthfy Hamzah is senior research fellow of ASEAN Studies at Strategic Pan Indo Pacific Arena.
Asia Times
3 days ago
- Asia Times
Ukraine shows it knows wars are never won in the past
The iconoclastic American general Douglas MacArthur once said that 'wars are never won in the past.' That sentiment certainly seemed to ring true following Ukraine's recent audacious attack on Russia's strategic bomber fleet, using small, cheap drones housed in wooden pods and transported near Russian airfields in trucks. The synchronized operation targeted Russian Air Force planes as far away as Irkutsk – more than 5,000 kilometers from Ukraine. Early reports suggest around a third of Russia's long-range bombers were either destroyed or badly damaged. Russian military bloggers have put the estimated losses lower, but agree the attack was catastrophic for the Russian Air Force, which has struggled to adapt to Ukrainian tactics. This particular attack was reportedly 18 months in the making. To keep it secret was an extraordinary feat. Notably, Kyiv reportedly did not inform the United States that the attack was in the offing. The Ukrainians judged – perhaps understandably – that sharing intelligence on their plans could have alerted the Kremlin in relatively short order. Ukraine's success once again demonstrates that its armed forces and intelligence services are the modern masters of battlefield innovation and operational security. Western military planners have been carefully studying Ukraine's successes ever since its forces managed to blunt Russia's initial onslaught deep into its territory in early 2022, and then launched a stunning counteroffensive that drove the Russian invaders back towards their original starting positions. There have been other lessons, too, about how the apparently weak can stand up to the strong. These include: attacks on Russian President Vladimir Putin's vanity project, the Kerch Bridge, linking the Russian mainland to occupied Crimea (the last assault occurred just days ago) the relentless targeting of Russia's oil and gas infrastructure with drones attacks against targets in Moscow to remind the Russian populace about the war, and its incursion into the Kursk region, which saw Ukrainian forces capture around 1,000 square kilometres of Russian territory. On each occasion, Western defense analysts have questioned the wisdom of Kyiv's moves. Why invade Russia using your best troops when Moscow's forces continue laying waste to cities in Ukraine? Why hit Russia's energy infrastructure if it doesn't markedly impede the battlefield mobility of Russian forces? And why attack symbolic targets like bridges when it could provoke Putin into dangerous 'escalation'? The answer to this is the key to effective innovation during wartime. Ukraine's defense and security planners have interpreted their missions – and their best possible outcomes – far more accurately than conventional wisdom would have thought. Above all, they have focused on winning the war they are in, rather than those of the past. This means: using technological advancements to force the Russians to change their tactics shaping the information environment to promote their narratives and keep vital Western aid flowing, and deploying surprise attacks not just as ways to boost public morale, but also to impose disproportionate costs on the Russian state. In doing so, Ukraine has had an eye for strategic effects. As the smaller nation reliant on international support, this has been the only logical choice. Putin has been prepared to commit a virtually inexhaustible supply of expendable cannon fodder to continue his country's war ad infinitum. Russia has typically won its wars this way – by attrition – albeit at a tremendous human and material cost. That said, Ukraine's most recent surprise attack does not change the overall contours of the war. The only person with the ability to end it is Putin himself. That's why Ukraine is putting as much pressure as possible on his regime, as well as domestic and international perceptions of it. It is key to Ukraine's theory of victory. This is also why the latest drone attack is so significant. Russia needs its long-range bomber fleet, not just to fire conventional cruise missiles at Ukrainian civilian and infrastructure targets, but as aerial delivery systems for its strategic nuclear arsenal. The destruction of even a small portion of Russia's deterrence capability has the potential to affect its nuclear strategy. It has increasingly relied on this strategy to threaten the West. A second impact of the attack is psychological. The drone attacks are more likely to enrage Putin than bring him to the bargaining table. However, they reinforce to the Russian military that there are few places – even on its own soil – that its air force can act with operational impunity. The surprise attacks also provide a shot in the arm domestically, reminding Ukrainians they remain very much in the fight. Finally, the drone attacks send a signal to Western leaders. US President Donald Trump and Vice President JD Vance, for instance, have gone to great lengths to tell the world that Ukraine is weak and has 'no cards'. This action shows Kyiv does indeed have some powerful cards to play. That may, of course, backfire: after all, Trump is acutely sensitive to being made to look a fool. He may look unkindly at resuming military aid to Ukraine after being shown up for saying Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky would be forced to capitulate without US support. But Trump's own hubris has already done that for him. His regular claims that a peace deal is just weeks away have gone beyond wishful thinking and are now monotonous. Unsurprisingly, Trump's reluctance to put anything approaching serious pressure on Putin has merely incentivised the Russian leader to string the process along. Indeed, Putin's insistence on a maximalist victory, requiring Ukrainian demobilisation and disarmament without any security guarantees for Kyiv, is not diplomacy at all. It is merely the reiteration of the same unworkable demands he has made since even before Russia's full-scale invasion in February 2022. However, Ukraine's ability to smuggle drones undetected onto an opponent's territory, and then unleash them all together, will pose headaches for Ukraine's friends, as well as its enemies. That's because it makes domestic intelligence and policing part of any effective defence posture. It is a contingency that democracies will have to plan for, just as much as authoritarian regimes, who are also learning from Ukraine's lessons. In other words, while the attack has shown up Russia's domestic security services for failing to uncover the plan, Western security elites, as well as authoritarian ones, will now be wondering whether their own security apparatuses would be up to the job. The drone strikes will also likely lead to questions about how useful it is to invest in high-end and extraordinarily expensive weapons systems when they can be vulnerable. The Security Service of Ukraine estimates the damage cost Russia US$7 billion. Ukraine's drones, by comparison, cost a couple of thousand dollars each. At the very least, coming up with a suitable response to those challenges will require significant thought and effort. But as Ukraine has repeatedly shown us, you can't win wars in the past. Matthew Sussex is associate professor (Adj), Griffith Asia Institute; and fellow, Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
