The South China Sea
Bill Hayton’s latest, The South China Sea: The Struggle for Power in Asia, is lucidly written, very well researched and above all else accessible. It will therefore be a useful read for researchers, teachers and students interested in the fields of Political Science, Environmental History, Policy Analysis, History of Diplomacy and International Relations. As is standard with well composed, high profile works, the book has received much praise and barely a bite of criticism in press and academic circles, particularly among Hayton’s peers. Hence a number of useful reviews of the book have already been written, by Joel Campbell (Troy University – for International Affairs),[i] by Dan Brown (former US Diplomat – for The Sentinel), Jeremy Suri (Professor at University of Texas-Austin; H-Net),[ii] and Gregory Poling (for The Wall Street Journal)[iii]. Other brief reviews appeared in Foreign Affairs[iv] and The Economist.
Hayton’s writing is nuanced, and the author reveals many a fascinating narrative. Even experts in the history of the East and South East Asia will find good presentations of events they are familiar with. All this is embedded within a series of sound policy analyses – including potential rulings of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) [in chapter four] – though, the author does not explicitly state his argument in a way that may be considered necessary for some students to recognize it (using the phrase “I argue that…”). However, he does pose an excellent argument for the study of the South China Sea, metaphorically, in the introduction, with the prompt: “What happens if someone shoots an archduke?” (xiv). Of course, the difference between the execution of the Archduke and a global conflict in the South China Sea is that one of these events is factual, the other is pure conjecture. Nevertheless, Hayton uses the “what if” to justify a lengthy and engaging history of the supra-region of the South China Sea (to extend from the northern Pacific to the Indian Ocean) over the first three chapters of the book. Hence, the position of the author becomes clearer throughout the book, particularly as the ‘role of the archduke’ is demonstrated as ‘American military hegemony’ in Hayton’s (and many others) analysis (p. 219).
The praise among reviewers of Hayton’s work has been so high that it is indeed difficult to point out any critiques of the book. Most agree that Mr. Poling’s review is correct in stating that the book provides clear evidence that China’s “nine dash line” is not valid historically, and Dan Brown, who goes further to state that those who do see China’s claims as equally valid to the other claimants ‘haven’t done their homework.’[v] However, Brown also adds as a post-script that the author was, given his relatively pro-Vietnam stance in the matter, “ironically” refused entry into Vietnam, twice. Hence, Brown concludes, and the author himself admits, he was not able to treat Vietnam with the same complexity as, say, Malaysia or the Philippines – whose politicians and narratives have been treated here in vibrant detail. This much is evident, from reviewing the sources of Hayton’s study: no Vietnamese language sources are used, not even Vietnamese maps are referenced, although they became amply available to international audiences between 2012 and 2015. Therefore it is not without surprise that Hayton erroneously traces contemporary Vietnamese claims to the Republic of [South] Vietnam staking a claim to parts of the islands in 1956 and a formal annexation in 1973 (70-73). Additionally, in the analysis we are left only with the “elephants” (China and the United States) and the “ants” (Southeast Asian countries; mostly Malaysia and the Philippines, with mentions of Vietnam and a smattering of analysis on Indonesia, Thailand, Laos and Cambodia; as long as Hayton was able to rely upon coverage in English) – as all agree, the writing as for ‘laymen.’ If we are to take on the simplicity of Hayton’s metaphor, we are still left with the question: Could Hayton have perhaps added another category of “giraffes” to account for Japan, Russia and Korea? Although, to extend Hayton’s analysis here, from the Vietnamese perspective, the only giraffe in the scenario is China.
Since Hayton did not outline the position of Vietnamese nationalist historians (and hence party officials) in great detail in his analysis, what follows is a summary standard position. A typical argument in Vietnamese nationalist historiography relies upon a collection of maps: the Reseau “Meteorologique et Climatology” from 1940 (source: Pattle [Paracel/Hoang Sa] Data Centre) showing the Pattle [Hoang Sa] and Itu Aba [Trương Sa] islands as critical for meteorological studies; “China Under the Qing, 1904” [source: Vietnamese History Museum], which demonstrates how no claims existed over Xisha [Hoang Sa] and Nansha [Trường Sa] during the Qing dynasty; Jean-Louis Taberd’s 1839 “An Nam Đại Quốc Họa Đồ,” which recognizes the Paracel and Cát Vàng as well as much of Cambodia, as Nguyễn dynastic possessions; and the 1834 “Đại Nam Nhất Thống Toàn Đồ,” which makes similar claims, extending Vietnamese sovereignty across the Annamite Chain, into the lowlands of Cambodia and Laos, claiming all the territory up to the Mekong River Delta. The last map is most critical. It is alternatively dated to 1838 in some versions[vi] and is seen, in conjunction with the Nguyễn dynasty Gazeteer (Đại Nam Nhất Thống Chí) and the Nguyễn dynastic chronicles as one of the most-clear demonstrations of the Nguyễn dynasties concept of territoriality.
The above listed maps all also appeared at the Bavet border crossing between Vietnam and Cambodia (at least between 2012 and 2014) on a wall display, as a not-so-subtle reminder of Vietnamese power in the exit line that tourists and workers use before they enter Cambodia. At the ‘neutral zone’ in between the two countries, there also stands a pillar that is a marker of (northern/red river delta) Vietnamese culture. The last map of the display in the visa exit line in particular was cited as evidence by the Vietnam’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs as evidence for claims over the Paracel Islands. Although Vietnamese officials later shied away from these claims, preferring to cite historic expeditions that were made to salvage shipwrecks, made by the Vietnamese to both island groups from 1750 onwards by the Nguyễn dynasty (which Hayton hints at on page 43).[vii] No mentions are made explicit about the underscored implications of the use of these maps in Hayton’s analysis: that much of Cambodia and Laos are subconsciously already part of the ‘geo-body’ (see: Thongchai 1994)[viii] of the Vietnamese nation. Hence, the use of China as a counter-balance to Vietnamese power in the region on the part of Hun Sen, in particular, throws the ‘elephants’ and ‘ants’ analogy. Pray tell, is Vietnam an ant or an elephant for Hun Sen?
The question of Vietnam’s role in the South China Sea dispute is actually rather moot for Hayton in this book, despite the critical acclaims from The Economist and others that he writes about Vietnam with great instinct.[ix] Rather the focus of the narrative is on China’s role in relation to the United States, and on the waters of the South China Sea themselves. Here Hayton’s original contribution comes from the suggestion that there ought to be a way for the international powers involved to come together first on a treaty to mitigate over-fishing of rapidly depleting supplies of food resources, since fish are inherently de-territorialized. The suggestion is one of the most innovative points of Hayton’s analysis – and overlooked in many existing reviews of the book. Just as most reviewers also overlooked the largest claim to the book: that the ‘Mediterranean analogy’ – drawn from Economic Historian Fernand Braudel - is one that applies to the study of the region of Southeast Asia and the waves of the South China Sea. This is not an original claim, but rather one that Southeast Asianists and Historians of the region including - Heather Sutherland and Barbara Andaya - have been exploring for over a decade.[x] Hayton was certainly not the sole author to re-apply the analogy in the context of the South China Sea dispute.[xi]
Finally, in the first chapter of the book there are at least a few points that should be addressed: the concept of the mandala polity should be cited to the historian OW Wolters; comparatively little evidence exists that Southeast Asian polities referred to themselves as mandala in pre-colonial times, but rather through various Sanskrit terms: nagara [negara/nokhon], bhumi and desa; and, the Champa civilization lasted for one thousand-five hundred years (not one thousand). The Mandala of OW Wolters is therefore better understood as a metaphorical theoretical model of state organization drawn from Southeast Asian sources – rather than the literal name that pre-colonial Southeast Asians would have used, as Hayton reports. Should readers, teachers, researchers and students wish to focus on other chapters of the book, there is therefore some cause to believe that there will be other points of discussion that would arise. For example, a clearly problematic reference to Shang Kai Shek’s wife as a ‘Dragon Lady’ seems to have slipped past the editors. Regardless, even as the language and the veracity of some of the information within the text should be further interrogated, the book itself becomes even more valuable in a teaching context, able to prompt ample discussion, and if nothing else, simply because it is a phenomenal read. Fundamentally, the Mediterranean analogy is still a convincing one, although which aspects of the analogy are most convincing is still up for some debate.
William B Noseworthy, University of Wisconsin-Madison (noseworthy@wisc.edu)
[i] Joel Campbell (2015). Review of The South China Sea: the struggle for power in Asia. By Bill Hayton. International Affairs. Vol. 91: 673-674. Campbell’s review is mostly written in analytic academic reported style, and therefore, does not offer much in the way of praise for the work or critique. It is rather mostly a summary of the arguments presented, although Campbell does critique the very basic intent of the author: citing that it is ‘too lay’ of an approach that “relies a bit too much on superficial interviews and impressionistic conclusions” (674)
[ii] Jeremi Suri. Review of Hayton, Bill, _The South China Sea:
The Struggle for Power in Asia_. H-Asia, H-Net Reviews. June, 2015.
URL: https://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=43189
[iii] http://www.wsj.com/articles/gregory-b-poling-the-south-china-sea-by-bill...
[iv] https://www.foreignaffairs.com/reviews/capsule-review/south-china-sea-st...
[v] http://www.asiasentinel.com/book-review/south-china-sea-struggle-power-a...
[vi] Nguyễn Q. Thắng (2008). Hoàng Sa, Trường Sa: Lãnh Thổ Việt Nam, Nhình Từ Công Pháp Quốc Tế. Trí Thức Publishing House: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. P 58
[vii] http://www.asiasentinel.com/book-review/south-china-sea-struggle-power-a...
[viii] Thongchai Winichakul (1994). Siam Mapped: A History of the Geo-Body of Nation. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
[ix] http://www.economist.com/news/books-and-arts/21616880-new-book-dips-toxi...
[x] Sutherland, Heather. “Southeast Asian History and the Mediterranean Analogy” in Journal of Southeast Asian Studies (34) 1, Feb. 2003. 1-20; Andaya, Barbara “Oceans Unbounded,” Journal of Asian Studies 65, 4 (Nov 2006). 669-690.
[xi] William B Noseworthy’s own article in the Journal of Northeast Asian History, published just moments before Hayton’s book, in the summer of 2014 (Hayton’s release date was Sept. 1) argued for the Mediterranean analogy based upon a review of the history of the South China Sea – rather than a review of ‘the history of the conflict’ over the South China Sea. See: Noseworthy, William B (2014). Water Works Trans-regionally: Southeast Asian Networks of Migration, Culture and Trade in the History of the South China Sea. Journal of Northeast Asian History, vol. 11 (summer): 153 – 200. This is not to claim that the idea was one authors or another’s, but rather to demonstrate that it is not as original idea as Hayton suggests in his conclusion.