India may have been the pioneer of political non-alignment in the 1960s — proposing that countries should align themselves neither with the West nor the Communist bloc — but 21st century non-alignment is more economic than political and its homeland is Southeast Asia.
Over the summer, Singapore decided to split its decision on who would build the next tranche of data centers on the island: Chinese companies got two contracts (with an assist from Australia’s AirTrunk) and US companies got two. While the US has been trying, with some success, to corral countries into a kind of digital alliance that keeps China out, states in the global economy’s fastest-growing region are refusing to choose. This will prove to be the non-aligned movement that matters for the near future.
Compared to other of the world’s regions, Southeast Asia has had far more experience of both China and the US in the role of major powers: the US since its defeat of Spain in 1898 and especially since 1942, when it entered World War II; China over two millennia, most recently following a policy of Maoist subversion in the 1950s-1970s and commercial expansion and influence from the 1990s to today. Southeast Asia has also had a unique experience of consistent inward investment from other highly developed economies with labor shortages such as Japan, Korea and Taiwan. Indian capital began to look more seriously at the region a few years ago, as has some European and Middle Eastern capital. The gradual redirection of US capital away from the Chinese mainland after 2016 and the slowing of China’s economy strengthened pre-existing trends favoring Southeast Asian growth.
One result is a regional political culture with a deep tradition of not taking sides. The elevation of Chinese-American strategic and economic competition into the digital realm — begun under Trump and greatly extended under Biden — has been met in Southeast Asia by a determination to maintain digital non-alignment. The term itself has been toyed with by Russia and has been more substantively explored by India since its initial banning of Chinese apps in 2020. But Russia has neither tradition nor credibility as a disinterested actor outside its borders and its declining IT sector is increasingly hostage to China, while India’s mini-hegemonic aspirations and hostility toward Islam hinder its acceptance by others as a leader. Southeast Asia walks the walk as well as talking the talk.
Ultimately the US and China have little choice but to go along, because in the digital realm their strategic positions are decisively shaped by their respective private sectors. The politically driven “techlashes” in both the US and China over the past five years were driven by state and popular (in the US) fears of overweening private-tech power, but the tech sector can only be reined in up to a point or it starts to lose its vitality, as may be happening already to some degree in China — and that leads to the sort of strategic weakening that is precisely what the American and Chinese states are most hoping to avoid. For the good of the state, they need their tech sectors to thrive in private markets. The most important of those, for a great many reasons, is Southeast Asia, which is why the 21st century’s distinctive form of non-alignment is being born there.