We often think of language as a democratic field, but it is not quite the common property of its speakers, argues Jeffrey Weng, APARC’s 2020-21 postdoctoral fellow on contemporary Asia. Rather, language is a skill that must be learned, says Weng, and it creates social divisions as much as it bridges divides. 

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What has shaped your interest and research into the study of language and linguistic dissemination?

As a first-grade student in the early 1990s attending Chinese school in central New Jersey on Saturday mornings, I learned how to write my first complete sentence in the language: “I am an overseas Chinese.” Now, this was a curious sentence to teach to a class full of American-born children of Taiwanese parents, and it’s a reminder that language is never a neutral conveyor of meaning. Language cannot but be freighted with social, cultural, and political import, a lesson reinforced in my high-school Spanish classes, in which I made my first forays into literature in a foreign language: stories by the great writers of Spain and Latin America not only spoke a wholly different language, but they told wholly different stories from those of their British and American counterparts.

Linguistic difference also is a signal of individual and social difference: my childhood visits with family in Taiwan opened my ears to a cacophonous Babel in the media and on the streets—though we spoke Mandarin at home, whenever we went out, people speaking Taiwanese were everywhere to be seen and heard. This was further amplified when I visited mainland China for the first time in my early 20s. Beijing, the supposed wellspring of the nation’s language, was bewildering—I could not understand much of the unselfconscious speech of the locals. And traveling several hundred miles in any direction would only deepen my incomprehension. And yet, on the radio and on TV, during formal events and on university campuses, there was always Mandarin to clear the way. I wanted to learn more about how this language situation came to be. For me, studying the social, cultural, and political nature of language is a way to a deeper understanding of how people are united and divided in vastly different contexts across the globe.

As you’ve looked deeper into how language shapes society and society shapes language, what is something surprising you’ve come to realize about that relationship?

People often see language as the ultimate democratic field when it comes to cultural practice. No matter how much you might tell people not to split their infinitives or end their sentences with prepositions, popular practice will always win the day. Or so we English speakers think. Ever since Merriam-Webster came out with its infamously descriptivist Third New International Dictionary in 1961, Anglophone language nerds have fought over whether dictionaries should be “prescriptive”—that is, rule-setting—or “descriptive”—reflective of popular usage. But really, these are two sides of the same coin. We take it for granted that privately-owned publishers of dictionaries spell out the supposed norms of our language. Not only that, we even think this ought to be the case. French is the usual counterexample: when government language authorities in Quebec or Paris try to stem the Anglophone tide, we think it absurd that so-called authorities would ever try to rule over something so fundamentally unruly as language.

In my research, however, I learned how fundamentally invented Mandarin as a language is—from its highly artificial pronunciation to the way its orthography has been stabilized. There used to be a lot of variability in how characters were written and how they could be used, much like English spelling before the 18th century. Mandarin, both spoken and written, was standardized only in the 1920s to facilitate mass literacy and national cohesion. So linguistic change might often follow and reflect social change, but the process can also operate in reverse—a government can change language in hopes of facilitating social change.

In your latest journal publication, you argue that language nationalization in Japan, Korea, and Vietnam between 1870-1950 was a state-led, top-down process directed at remaking society rather than the more traditional view of diffusion through trade, economics, and cultural exchange. Why is this an important distinction to make?

Again, we often see language as a democratic field, the common property of its speakers, but it isn’t really. Sociolinguists are often quick to remind us that linguistic differences reflect class differences—“proper” language is that of “educated” speakers. But language is a skill, and skills must be learned. Some people can learn skills more easily than others, whether through natural ability or, more importantly, the life circumstances they were born into. Rich people can more easily get a good education. Educational disparities are now part and parcel of today’s broader debates about inequality. But the very fact that we think this is a problem is a product of developments in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Before then, broad swaths of humanity were totally illiterate and had no chance at being educated, and most people did not think this was a problem. In Europe, the language of the Church and academia, even to some extent in Protestant areas, was Latin until the 18th century. Local vernaculars had gradually developed as independent media of communication in government chancelleries and popular literature since the Middle Ages, but they did not really gain ascendancy until the age of print-capitalism and nationalism in the 18th and 19th centuries. Marxian-influenced scholars have therefore concluded that the rise of national languages coincided with the rise of the bourgeoisie, whose own languages became those of the nations they constructed.

In France, for example, while revolutionaries in the 1790s advocated the use of Parisian French to unify a country divided by hundreds of local forms of speech, into the mid-19th century, even journeying 50 miles outside Paris found travelers having trouble making themselves understood to the locals. It took more than a century for French to gain a foothold in most of the country. Asia, too, was a polyglot patchwork for millennia, unified at the top by an arcane language much like Latin—Classical Chinese. This situation became politically untenable in the 19th century as European imperialism encroached on traditional sovereignties in China, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam. In order to counter the foreign threat, governments sought to strengthen their societies by educating their populations, which required making it easier to learn how to read and write. While standard languages have been described by historians and sociolinguists as “artificial” for less-privileged learners, Asia’s standard languages were artificial even to their bourgeois inventors.

Our understanding of the present is invariably colored by our interpretation of the past: if we understand a national language to be a bourgeois imposition that diffused via economic development, then we more easily see its continued imposition as a perpetuation of class prejudices. If on the other hand, we see an invented national language as a tool for bridging regional divisions and expanding economic opportunity for our children, then we feel much more positively about the spread of such languages. Both interpretations can be true at the same time, but we must remember that one is inseparable from the other.

Do you see any parallels between how language nationalization has occurred in the past to how language and society are shaping one another in the present?

The number of “standard” Mandarin speakers in the early 1930s could be counted on one hand. Today, it’s the world’s largest language by a number of “native” speakers. Though it began as an elite nationalizing project that was largely ignored by the masses of people in China, Mandarin is now more often seen as a hegemonic threat to local languages and cultures. Language can thus bridge divides, but also create new divisions. People in China are often ambivalent about the pace of change these days. When I visited cousins in rural Fujian during the Lunar New Year a few years ago, I noticed that all my nieces and nephews spoke Mandarin in almost all situations, to their parents, and especially to one another. Only my grandparents’ generation used the local Fuqing dialect as a matter of course. My parents’ generation spoke dialect to their parents, but a mix of Mandarin and dialect to their children—the cousins of my generation, who were able to speak the dialect, but were more comfortable speaking Mandarin among themselves and to their children. One of my young nieces who’d grown up in Beijing, where her parents had moved for work, even had a perfect Beijing accent. In a span of three generations, migration due to expanded opportunity had wrought enormous change in language habits. Much had been gained, but also much had been lost.

How has your time at APARC as one of our Shorenstein Postdoctoral Fellows aided your research project?

It’s certainly been a strange year to be a postdoc, given how we’ve all been operating remotely. Nevertheless, life and work have continued, and we’ve all been able to find new ways of building community and getting things done. I’ve personally benefited from the access to the vast academic resources of Stanford—library access, even online alone, is a lifeline to any researcher. Moreover, I’ve had the opportunity to chat on Zoom with Stanford faculty about research and connect with my fellow postdocs to support one another as we figure out how to move forward in our careers in these challenging times.

With your recent appointment as an assistant professor at National Taiwan University in Taipei, how do you anticipate your research interests growing and developing given the tension between Taiwan and China?

I am gratified to begin my academic career in a place of such diversity and openness as Taiwan. Language and identity are constant sites of contention in Taiwan's politics, and I look forward to expanding my on-the-ground understanding of these issues as I begin teaching in the sociology department at National Taiwan University. It is nothing short of miraculous that democracy has flourished at such an intersection of empires, colonialism, repressions, and struggles. And it is unsettling to see that flourishing takes place in such a precarious geopolitical location. NTU's sociology department is at the forefront of understanding all of these vital issues as we barrel forward into an ever more uncertain future.

The COVID-19 pandemic has disrupted economies and expectations for economic growth and development the world over. But even before the pandemic, Asian economies were reassessing their growth strategies.

In a podcast conversation about the new edited volume Shifting Gears in Innovation Policy: Strategies from Asia, APARC's Korea Program Deputy Director Yong Suk Lee discusses some of the impediments Asian countries face in trying to encourage economic development and entrepreneurship, but also the inherent strengths that could allow innovative strategies take hold and grow in East Asia. Listen to the full conversation below.

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Edited by Lee, Gi-Wook Shin, and Takeo Hoshi, Shifting Gears in Innovation Policy is the first of three volumes resulting from APARC's Stanford Asia-Pacific Innovation project that produces policy research to promote innovation and entrepreneurship in East Asia and the greater Asia-Pacific region.

Lee explains, “Many Asian countries achieved economic growth by importing new technologies from advanced economies like the U.S., using them very effectively, and then expanding exports. But now where East Asia stands, many of these countries have already successfully caught up to the technological frontier of advanced economies, so if they want to maintain growth, there needs to be a shift in their strategies.”

The shift Lee and the other volume authors propose is one towards economic growth that is driven by innovation and entrepreneurship rather than the ‘catch-up’ model that Asian economies have commonly relied on. Unlike startup hubs such as the San Francisco Bay Area of California, Asian countries often lack an entrepreneurial tradition because of antagonistic financial structures and differences in cultural definitions of success. These additional financial and social risks have cast entrepreneurial endeavors in an unattractive light for multiple generations of workers.

But encouraging entrepreneurship and endemic innovation are crucial to maintaining stable economic growth. With rapidly aging populations, greater interconnections in both trade and diplomacy, and transformation in the workforce, workplace, and work itself, effectively adapting development strategies to meet present and future challenges remains a central priority for East Asia policymakers and innovators alike. As Lee advises, “There’s strong infrastructure in East Asia, both physically and digitally, which is a great advantage. But they’re now at a frontier with no trajectory to follow, and there needs to be indigenous growth and continuous innovation in order to not be surpassed by competitors.”

Stanford e-Oita is an online course for high school students in Oita Prefecture in the southwestern island of Kyushu, Japan, that is sponsored by the Oita Prefectural Government. Launched in fall 2019, it is offered by the Stanford Program on International and Cross-Cultural Education (SPICE) in collaboration with the Oita Prefectural Board of Education.

On January 8, 2021, Stanford e-Oita students were treated to a lecture by Sumire Hirotsuru, a professional violinist who was born and raised in Oita Prefecture. After graduating from Oita Uenogaoka High School, Hirotsuru attended and graduated from Harvard University and The Julliard School. She has performed with Yo-Yo Ma and the Silkroad Ensemble, and as a soloist at major venues in the United States and Japan, including Carnegie Hall, John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, and Suntory Hall, and at the Beppu Argerich Music Festival in Oita. After graduation from The Julliard School, Hirotsuru started her own company in New York City where she manages her own music promotional business. She is currently living in Japan.

Hirotsuru’s talk was titled “Sumire’s Journey in the U.S. and Japan.” While sharing thoughts on her upbringing in Oita, she had invaluable advice to the students like encouraging them to think about their strengths and the importance of balancing academics and extracurricular activities, in her case, practicing the violin. While introducing a typical day at Harvard, she emphasized the importance of building community in formal settings (e.g., through classes and musical practices and performances) as well as informal settings (e.g., having meals in her dorm with friends with diverse interests).

Since completing college, she has published several books. While sharing one of her publications, she underscored the critical importance of time management and setting benchmarks to reach one’s goals. She engaged students in thinking about a 2021 new year’s resolution and considering what needs to be achieved by June 2021, and even thinking about what needs to be done daily to meet their resolution.

Setting benchmarks resonated with Stanford e-Oita Instructor and fellow Harvard alumna, Kasumi Yamashita. Yamashita commented, “My e-Oita students were inspired by Sumire, who shared her personal journey from her hometown of Oita to the world stage. There’s a tendency to look outward and far away for new experiences but Sumire showed them how change can start in their own backyard. She talked about a cross-cultural program that she co-founded called ‘Summer in JAPAN,’ where Harvard undergraduates are invited to Oita to teach workshops and engage with Japanese students from many countries in English. It was one way that she brings her global experiences back to Oita, which is something I encourage my students to do.” Hirotsuru noted that she was inspired to begin Summer in JAPAN in Oita because she didn’t have any resource like that when she was growing up in Oita. “That was definitely one of my motivations to start a program like this.”

The emphasis on goal setting inspired a student to ask Hirotsuru about her current goal as a violinist. Hirotsuru replied that she aspires “to reach more people through music because right now, I feel like… classical music is often considered the music of people who have money… and access to concert halls. But I would like to bring my music to many people who are not only rich… I think music is something really important when you’re growing up.”

Hirotsuru’s talk also prompted one of the student musicians—a flutist of her high school brass band—to ask how Hirotsuru managed to balance both academics and violin practice. Hirotsuru responded by sharing, “You have a capacity of more than 100 percent… I think that you can put your effort completely on academics and flute at the same time by managing your time very efficiently.” Yamashita hopes that this lesson will be one that students will embrace far into their futures.

Reflecting on her experience with the students in Oita, Hirotsuru noted the following, “I was impressed by the students’ active participation in class—even through Zoom, I was able to see how their eyes were filled with excitement and passion for the future. I truly believe that there will be more opportunities for the students to expand their perspectives from Oita and beyond, as long as they keep their minds open.”

SPICE is grateful to Oita Governor Katsusada Hirose whose vision made this course possible. SPICE is also appreciative of Teacher Consultants Keisuke Toyoda and Hironori Sano for their unwavering support of Stanford e-Oita.

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Soft Power and U.S.-China Competition

One thing the Trump administration has identified correctly and managed to get consensus on, says Chinese military and security expert Oriana Skylar Mastro, is that the United States is in a great-power competition with China. Biden now accepts this framework, and Mastro expects him to maintain the basic principles of U.S. Asia policy, such as strategic ambiguity and ensuring Taiwan’s defense through arms sales. The difference will be in Biden’s approach, which is based on “multilateralism, strengthening partnerships, and not trying to provoke Beijing for the sake of provoking Beijing.” This approach, believes Mastro, is going to improve the U.S. position in terms of competition.

A core component of the U.S.-China great-power competition, however, is soft power — the ability of countries to get what they want through persuasion or attraction in the form of culture, values, and policies. Soft power, argues Mastro, is an area that is very hard for a president to have control over and rebuild, and American soft power has taken a tremendous hit with the breach of the U.S. Capitol on January 6. Demonstrating the decline of American democracy, the scenes from the pro-Trump mob attack have been a win for China and are hardly encouraging for U.S. partners and allies.

Biden can do a lot to tackle U.S. domestic problems and improve the political image of America abroad. But soft power, concludes Mastro, is organic. “I fear that President-elect Biden is going to learn that soft power, once lost, is very difficult to regain.”

The U.S.-Japan Alliance and Security in the Asia-Pacific

In shifting to relations between the United States and Japan, Kiyoteru Tsutsui focuses on how the traditional aspects of the Japan-U.S. alliance are playing out in the current geopolitical theater. In Tsutsui’s view, Japan’s early brushes with Chinese might in the 2010s has left the country particularly keen on ensuring that a strong counterbalance exists to China’s strategic advantage.

To that end, Japan has proactively partnered with other nations on trade deals such as the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) and Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP). The fact that both of these major free trade agreements were concluded without U.S. involvement is significant, and whether President Biden makes any response will be “one the more closely watched issues among foreign policy experts in the coming years,” by Tsutsui’s measure.

The reemergence of ‘the Quad,’ and even discussions of a ‘Quad+’ that includes nations such as South Korea, is of particular interest to Tsutsui. Such groups provide additional avenues for further developing the ‘free and open Indo-Pacific’ strategy originally envisioned by Prime Minister Abe. But Tsutsui is also not opposed to the idea of engaging China directly in multilateral efforts as long as China understands the U.S. and Japan’s resolve in countering Chinese aggression and non-peaceful ambitions.

The Korean Peninsula in the Spotlight

When it comes to engagement on the Korean peninsula, Gi-Wook Shin hopes the new administration will avoid a reactionary response and backsliding into old habits. The temptation to respond with an “anything but Trump’s” approach to handling relations with North Korea may be strong, particularly given the president’s unusually forward relationship with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un, but Shin counsels to not set aside everything Trump did in regards to the DPRK.

“Bringing North Korea and Kim Jong Un more into the international community was an important step that no other president has made,” he says. Shin strongly cautions against a return to the strategic patience typical of the Obama era. With Kim’s consolidated control and North Korea’s wielding far more advanced nuclear capabilities and significantly strengthened ties to China than it did eight years ago, a return to previous patterns of diplomacy would fail to address the present circumstances on the Korean peninsula. Shin urges the Biden administration to reemphasize human rights and deepening dialogues with its diplomatic counterparts in Seoul. He foresees an improvement in U.S.-ROK relations but warns that North Korea can be a source of tension between the two allies.

Opportunities for Allies in Southeast Asia

Donald Emmerson also recommends strengthening diplomatic ties to the nations of Southeast Asia and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN). By his assessment, “ASEAN needs creativity. It needs new ideas rather than simply following the path of least resistance.” Emmerson envisions this well-spring of creativity coming in part from robust new efforts by the United States to engage with the region diplomatically and academically.

Existing forums such as the Bali Democracy Forum can provide a ready-made platform for engagement, while active participation in gatherings such as the Global Town Hall organized earlier this year by the Foreign Policy Community of Indonesia (FPCI) provide easy opportunities for the United States to meaningfully engage with Southeast Asia.

An Outlook on the Broader Asia-Pacific

Closing out the panel’s remarks, Thomas Fingar offers measured optimism for the future. “I think the incoming U.S. approach to the countries in Asia, China included, is going to be pragmatic and instrumental, not transactional. Every nation who thinks they can contribute, does contribute, and is willing to play by a rules-based order can be part of the solution.”

Fingar expects the Biden administration’s foreign policy to be “focused on problems, not places” — to be driven less by particular animosity or affection for certain countries and more by addressing global issues that promote American interests, such as climate change, the impediments in the international system to advancing American economy, and preserving security.

By consensus, the incoming Biden administration’s most immediate concerns are overwhelmingly domestic. But as Mastro articulated, the effects of the United States’ domestic policies directly impact its perception, standing, and sphere of influence around the globe.

Effective relationships between the United States and the Asia-Pacific cannot be sustained in the long term with an ongoing ‘America first’ agenda or by pursuing zero-sum goals. Rather, the Biden administration must focus on finding solutions to multilateral needs by working side-by-side with Asian nations as co-sponsors and co-leaders.

On December 10, 2020, 44 educators from across the United States joined a webinar titled “Global Human Rights and Minority Social Movements in Japan.” The webinar was offered on Human Rights Day, 72 years after the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) was adopted. The featured speaker was Dr. Kiyoteru Tsutsui, who is the Henri H. and Tomoye Takahashi Professor and Senior Fellow in Japanese Studies at the Shorenstein APARC at Stanford University. He is also Director of the Japan Program, a Senior Fellow of FSI, and a Professor of Sociology.

The webinar can be viewed below:

Tsutsui has written extensively about human rights, including his latest book Rights Make Might: Global Human Rights and Minority Social Movements in Japan. In his talk, Tsutsui introduced the three most salient minority groups in Japan—the Ainu, an indigenous people in the northern part of Japan whose numbers range from 25,000 to 30,000; resident Koreans (Zainichi), a colonial legacy whose numbers have hovered around a half million; and the Burakumin, a former outcaste group whose numbers are approximately three million.

Tsutsui set the context for his talk by providing an overview of the global expansion of human rights dating from the UDHR in 1948 to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights—both adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1966 and came into force from 1976. Human rights are now established as one of the key principles in the international community. He noted that despite the wide recognition of human rights as an important international norm, whether the institutionalization of human rights in international society has done what it was intended to do still remains debatable.

Concerning the era of global human rights in Japan, Japan ratified the two International Covenants noted above in 1979 and has been a member of the UN Commission on Human Rights since 1982 and the UN Sub-Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Human Rights since 1984. These as well as participation in other forums have impacted ethnic minorities in Japan.

Tsutsui shared the historical backgrounds and key issues concerning the Ainu and resident Koreans. Concerning the Ainu, he underscored their lack of ethnic/indigenous pride—much less political activism—prior to the 1970s. This was largely because of their dependence on government welfare and strong pressure for assimilation. He then highlighted how Ainus’ self-perception changed after the 1970s as a result of their exposure to the Global Indigenous Rights Movement, which led to a reawakening of indigenous pride and the rise of Ainu activism.

Concerning resident Koreans, Tsutsui introduced their history prior to the 1970s as Japanese colonial era immigrants and their descendants who came to Japan or were brought to Japan by increasingly forceful means towards the end of World War II. He discussed issues concerning their loss of Japanese citizenship after World War II, resulting practices such as the fingerprinting of resident Koreans, and hurdles to mobilize for civil and human rights due to their non-citizen status and divided identities. Like the Ainu, things began to change from the 1970s with the beginning of the human rights era in Japan. For example, from the 1980s, encouraged by universal human rights principles, some resident Koreans refused to be fingerprinted, a practice they had previously resented but reluctantly complied with, and by 1985, over 10,000 resident Koreans joined in refusal. Resident Koreans made appeals to the UN Commission on Human Rights and other international forums to pressure the Japanese government. Amid mounting pressure domestically and internationally, the government terminated the fingerprinting practice for permanent residents in Japan (largely resident Koreans) in 1993, and for all alien residents by 2000.

Tsutsui summarized his talk by noting that global human rights galvanized minority social movements in Japan in four ways: (1) they empowered local actors with a new understanding about rights; (2) they provided political opportunities at the global level; (3) they increased international flows of mobilization resources; and (4) they provided vocabulary to frame their causes effectively. He closed his talk with a question, “Should we have hope or despair in terms of the future of human rights in the world?” and noted that the empowering capacity of global human rights is often overlooked, that reform takes time, that it is important to identify conditions conducive to improvement, and that contemporary backlash poses serious challenges.

In reflecting on the webinar with the educators, Tsutsui noted, “I was honored to present my work to the educators who can teach students in their formative years how important it is to continuously work to support human rights and how these efforts in the local context can change human rights practices not just locally but globally. This is a particularly important moment in the United States and in the world to reinforce the importance of human rights and democracy, as fundamental principles of democratic governance are challenged and protection of basic rights is in jeopardy. In these challenging times, I’d like to emphasize the importance of continuing grassroots-level work to support the principles of human rights and democracy. Ideas matter, and education shapes the future of our world.”

Teachers might consider some of the following as essential questions to raise with their students after viewing the lecture by Professor Tsutsui:

• How does the Ainu experience compare to the experience of Native Americans?
• How do textbooks in Japan cover ethnic minorities, and how is this similar and different to how ethnic minorities in the United States are covered in textbooks?
• How was ethnic minority participation in the Japanese military during World War II similar and different to ethnic minority participation in the U.S. military during World War II?
• What role can museums that focus on ethnic minorities play in educating the public, e.g., National Ainu Museum, National Museum of African American History and Culture?
• How is the backlash against ethnic minorities in Japan, e.g., being perceived as receiving special benefits, similar or different to that of ethnic minorities in the United States?
• Why is it important for young students to understand the significance of universal human rights?

The webinar was made possible through the support of the Freeman Foundation’s National Consortium for Teaching about Asia initiative. The webinar was a joint collaboration between SPICE and Stanford’s Center for East Asian Studies, and the Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center. Special thanks to Dr. Dafna Zur, CEAS Director, and John Groschwitz, CEAS Associate Director, for their support; to Dr. Gi-Wook Shin, APARC Director, and Dr. Karen Eggleston, APARC Deputy Director, for their support; and to SPICE’s Naomi Funahashi for facilitating the webinar and Sabrina Ishimatsu for planning the webinar.

This op-ed by Kiyoteru Tsutsui and Charles Crabtree was originally published in The Hill.

Any power transition produces policy casualties. In the United States, this might be particularly true as an incoming administration often differentiates itself from the incumbent by quickly announcing new policies and the abandonment of old ones. This is easier to do regarding domestic policy than foreign policy, where some continuity must be secured, even if serious disagreements exist between the incoming and outgoing administrations. Despite the tendency for administrations to make smaller changes in the realm of foreign policy, it seems that one casualty of the Biden administration will be the concept of a “Free and Open Indo-Pacific.” The administration should learn more about the genealogy of this policy and reassert its commitment to the “free and open” part of the idea.

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The phrase “Free and Open Indo-Pacific” (FOIP) originates from the administration of Japan’s former prime minister, Shinzo Abe. In response to China’s Belt and Road Initiative, a global infrastructure development strategy that reflects China’s expansionist ambitions, Abe and his government weaved together some ideas from prior Liberal Democratic Party governments and labeled them the Free and Open Indo-Pacific strategy in 2016.

With an emphasis on coalition-building to check and balance China’s influence, this strategy had strong security undertones, which made Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) countries nervous. Fully aware of the need to get ASEAN countries on board, the Abe government softened the edges of the strategy by renaming it a “vision,” shifting away from the emphasis on security components and offering a more friendly tone to the Belt and Road Initiative. Backed up by Japan’s supportive engagement with Belt and Road activities, this softer version became a hit in Southeast Asia, with various countries claiming authorship for it — and even China did not register a strong objection to it.

The 2018 FOIP vision has three pillars: promotion of rule of law, freedom of navigation, and free trade; economic prosperity, and peace and stability. The first pillar is particularly important, as it distinguishes FOIP from China’s competing strategy.

Abe promoted FOIP not only in Asia but also in the U.S. Leveraging the warm personal relationship with his American counterpart, Abe tried to sell the strategy to the Trump administration as an effective way to moderate if not fully counter Belt and Road. Trump’s foreign policy team adopted this concept, using it to slow China’s expansion in the Pacific, Asia  and even East Africa. Eventually, the U.S. government began using the FOIP language frequently and placed it at the center of its anti-China foreign policy.

As the Biden administration takes over, it is understandable that its experienced foreign policy team, with a focus on returning to multilateral engagements and moderating anti-China rhetoric, would hesitate to quickly adopt FOIP, which may have acquired strong anti-China connotations in American foreign policy circles. In line with this, President-elect Biden so far has preferred the phrase “a secure and prosperous Indo-Pacific region” instead. This has deepened existing concerns in Asia, particularly in Japan, that Biden will be soft on China.

Correspondingly, Japan’s Suga administration, which came to power in mid-September, has faced criticism that it is softer on China than the Abe administration. This concern came to the fore in November, as the Suga administration routinely started using the language “secure and prosperous Indo-Pacific.” Another precipitating event was a recent press conference in which Foreign Minister Toshimitsu Motegi did not immediately counter Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi’s prickly comments about the Senkaku islands.

Foreign policy experts, led by Yuichi Hosoya at Keio University, have argued vigorously that this language change signals a weaker commitment to the core principles of FOIP. If “free and open” is replaced by “secure and prosperous,” they contend, the whole vision becomes meaningless — and this shift will be remembered as a moment when Japan abandoned its commitment to the international order, undergirded by democracy and freedom, in favor of China’s vision of a “secure and prosperous” region that prioritizes development and stability.

Realizing the potential impact of this shift, the Suga administration quickly backtracked and resumed using “Free and Open Indo-Pacific.” FOIP is back in Japan, which signals Japan’s continuing resolve to promote the international liberal order.

The Biden administration also should consider readopting “Free and Open Indo-Pacific.” It’s understandable that Biden would want to move away from a strategic frame used by the Trump administration. There are certainly many of President Trump’s phrases that the Biden administration should drop, such as “America First” and “China virus.” But FOIP was not a vision created by anyone in the Trump administration. It was launched by Japan’s Abe administration and, after some modification, accepted by many Asian countries, arguably even by China.

Biden’s foreign policy likely will place greater emphasis on human rights and democracy than did Trump’s. Vis-à-vis China, this would mean that the U.S. will more vocally criticize human rights violations in Hong Kong, Xinjiang and elsewhere, and that trade negotiations will proceed with more civility. Given this, it would be inconsistent for the Biden administration to replace “free and open” with “secure and prosperous” in talking about the Indo-Pacific region. 

While there is some ambiguity about the concrete policies that accompany the admittedly underspecified FOIP vision, the Biden foreign policy team would be wise to readopt FOIP, bearing in mind an important fact: It was not Trump’s idea. If the next U.S. administration drops “free and open,” it will send the wrong message to the world, placing undue weight on Japan’s shoulders as the only major torch-bearer for liberal values in the region, and potentially straining the U.S.-Japan security relationship that must be in lockstep to moderate China’s ambitions.