The bond of the sea: Japan, Australia and China

History is full of ironies as well as surprises, depending on how deep you dig and the angle you're viewing it from. Here are three stories that illustrate the point. Each in its own way highlights the importance of knowing the back story rather than just a present day one-dimensional interpretation of it.

An early phase in the Australia-Japan relationship, for example, is the cooperation extended to Australia by the Japanese government during the First World War (1914-18). This was in the area of naval patrols and convoy escorts. The way in which the Japanese, a close ally of the British at the time, helped Australia was fresh in the minds of Baron Nobuaki Makino and his delegation when they walked out of the Versailles Peace Conference in 1919. They had been demeaned by an ebullient Australian, Prime Minister Billy Hughes, when the Japanese put forward a Racial Equality Proposal as a basic principle of the new League of Nations. Hughes was having none of it and backed by the British, successfully defeated it.

Japan's naval protection of Australia's coastline in WWI came at a time when Tokyo was keen to establish closer relations with our newly founded Commonwealth. It was not the first time though, that Japanese naval vessels had visited our ports: a goodwill mission came here in the 1880s. That marked a new era of official contact, one that helped Australia significantly when shipping was our only transport link with the outside world. Japan then had the most powerful naval fleet in the Pacific. A decade before, in the Russo-Japanese War (1904-05) it had defeated one of the world's powers, Russia.

The wartime cooperation began soon after hostilities broke out in Europe, when the British-built Japanese battle cruiser Ibuki assisted British and Australian warships in escorting the first convoy of troops from Australia through to Aden in 1914. Later, other Japanese cruisers patrolled almost all of our territorial waters, including those around Papua New Guinea. The greatest assistance came in 1917 when three Japanese cruisers and eight destroyers escorted our troopships across the Indian Ocean, while other Japanese warships escorted our cargo vessels on the Fremantle-Colombo run. Cordial relations prevailed between officers and crew, many having been trained at Dartmouth Naval College in Britain. There was also a full and open exchange of intelligence.

Australia's fear of German raiders was realised when a converted German cargo steamer, the Wolf, arrived on the scene. It was almost as well armed as a cruiser, with heavy guns, torpedo tubes, several hundred mines and a seaplane at its disposal. Her presence created havoc, as did another famous raider, the Emden. One night in 1917, the S.S. Cumberland, an Australian steamer carrying cargo for southern Australian ports and for Europe, struck a mine laid by the Wolf off Gabo Island near the NSW-Victoria border. The Chikuma, which was at Jervis Bay with her sister ship Hirado, rushed to the Cumberland's aid, covering the 160 miles in nine hours against heavy seas. Chikuma's crew quickly checked the steamer's condition and sent down a diver to examine her damaged hull. Much of its cargo was salvaged before it sank.

Japan's invaluable contribution to our security, and the camaraderie between both sides, was long remembered until the events of WWII cast a shadow across the scene. Today, the two countries again share a close relationship, though this time round it's a much broader-based one than could have been imagined a century ago.

That earlier period also gives rise to a second historical story, one that brings China's current contention with Japan over the Senkaku/Diaoyutai Islands into perspective. In 1919, a Chinese fishing boat, some sixteen metres long and powered by sail rather than steam, was operating in Japanese waters off those islands. Hailing from Fujian Province, it was carrying 31 men, mainly from the one family, with the eldest aged 60 and some between 11 and 16. A typhoon struck, which seriously damaged the vessel and to save it the crew cut away the mast to avoid capsizing. The storm raged for over a month, with the boat drifting helplessly. Eventually, with no improvement in the weather, they found themselves again within sight of the Senkaku Islands. But their boat sank and the crew took to three small dinghies they had on board.

They carefully made their way to the Islands, where Japanese fishermen from a settlement there spotted them, and at great danger to themselves set out to rescue the Chinese. They were looked after by the Japanese and their health restored until the storm finally abated early in 1920. As a result, no lives were lost. The headman of the Japanese settlement took them in his fishing vessel to Ishigaki Island, which is part of the Japanese island chain stretching from southern Kyushu to Formosa (now Taiwan, but then Japanese territory). Ishigaki City was the administrative HQ for the area and was a centre of activity in Japan's southern-most Prefecture of Okinawa. The Chinese crew stayed in Ishigaki for some time until they were taken by ferry to the port of Keelung in Formosa. From there, they were repatriated to their hometown in Fujian on the China coast.

There were numerous communications about the rescue, between the Japanese mayor of Ishigaki and the governor of Okinawa, as well as with the Ministries of Foreign Affairs and Home Affairs in Tokyo. Also in the loop was the Chinese Consul in Nagasaki in Kyushu, who wrote a remarkable seven official letters of gratitude in Chinese on behalf of the Government of the Republic of China. All key Japanese involved in the rescue and repatriation of the Chinese crew were thanked and all expenses incurred by the Japanese reimbursed. A gratuity was also included by the Chinese government in appreciation of the assistance the Japanese had rendered.

All official documentation raised at the time in both languages still exists in the Japanese archives. The letter from the Chinese Consul to the headman of the Japanese settlement in the Senkaku Islands was lodged by his eldest son in the museum in Ishigaki City in the 1990s. There was no dispute at the time over the fact that the Senkaku Islands were Japanese territory. As with most international events, there is usually an interesting human story in behind the official façade. The bond between fishermen, as with naval crews, is a powerful one and they usually help each other out first and let someone else worry about the politics later.

A third historical story comes from the pen of Gregory Clark, an eminent Australian and long-time resident of Japan. It illustrates just how complicated back stories can be. A former Australian diplomat trained in Chinese, Japanese and Russian, Clark was briefly The Australiannewspaper's first correspondent in Tokyo. It was from there that he organised Australia's participation in China's 1971 "pingpong diplomacy", which led to Canberra's recognition of Beijing. Clark later moved into an academic career in Japan, jointly founding the very successful Akita International University. His 1968 book In Fear of Chinaplayed a significant role in changing Australian foreign policy in the region and it would be hard to name any Australian who knows Asia as comprehensively as he does.

In an article titled "China: Maritime Expansionist?" in July 2019, he addressed the call for Australia to cooperate with the US in countering what some people regard as Beijing's expansionist activities in the South China Sea. He points to a great irony: it was the US itself in its 1951 San Francisco peace treaty with Japan (signed and ratified by Canberra and 47 others) who in effect gifted most of the South China Sea Islands – the Spratly and Paracel island groups in particular – to China. The US, he points out, organised a separate document with the Republic of China in Taiwan (via a 1952 Taipei peace treaty) making it even clearer that these islands should be taken from Japan and in effect given to China.

Some say both documents are ambiguous, Clark writes, since they do not outline specifically who was to receive those islands. But the government of the Republic of China was in no doubt. It quickly assumed control over the large island of Taiping in the Spratlys, close to the Philippines. In Taiwan, he points out, it is claimed that maintaining this treaty approved its claim to the Spratlys and Paracels, with this being crucial to Taiwan's sovereignty as a nation. "The same wording used in the San Francisco treaty for the return of the Kurile Islands to Moscow," he says, "is accepted even by Tokyo. What is at dispute is the definition of the words Kurile Islands. True, Beijing has its claims in the East and South China Seas, as other nations in the region do. It would be wrong of China to ignore them. But again, which China?"

Clark, who is a master of history, bothers to trace things back to their point of origin. We hear much about Beijing using a "nine-dash line", he writes, as the basis for claiming much of the South China Sea: "But that claim was not invented by Beijing. It was developed by the Republic of China government well before the Beijing regime existed." In Taiwan, he points out, they call it the "U-shaped line" and they still cling to it as proof of their theoretical right to claim virtually any South China Sea island: "Beijing has slightly reduced the U-shaped line to a less aggressive nine-dash line." How's that for irony?

Our media, Clark says, makes much of the fact that in July 2016 a tribunal of the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague ruled in support of Manila's claims in the island disputes: "Fair enough, but Manila's main claim had been against Taiwan's occupation of Taiping Island. True, other Spratly islands and shoals were examined. In its efforts to deny Beijing's claims to the UNCLOS (UN Convention for the Law of the Sea) -approved 200 nautical mile Exclusive Economic Zone around the islands [that Manila] had claimed … the tribunal said these islands were mere rocks incapable of supporting economic activity and so were not entitled to an EEZ."

But it is clear, Clark continues, that the tribunal was either ignorant or biased; for they went on, rather absurdly, to rule that Taiping was also a mere rock not entitled to an EEZ despite the 43-hectare island having an airport and a population of 200 engaged in a variety of economic activities. Ironically, he points out, "Beijing's 'rocks' now also sustain airports and a range of activities that would qualify for an EEZ."

When it comes to claiming rocks as islands, Japan is much more aggressive. It has taken a piece of exposed coral rock called Okinotori (Offshore Bird), the size of a bed, in a submerged atoll far out in the Pacific to the east of Taiwan and 1740 kms from Tokyo. It has buried it in concrete, declared it is part of Tokyo city, and has asserted its entitlement to EEZ status. As such, it claims the right to frequently capture or expel fishing boats, mainly Taiwanese, in the 200 nautical mile zone. It has also claimed that this small rock is part of Japan's continental shelf, which allows it to claim exclusive rights to exploit the resources of an extra 177,000 square kms of ocean bed.

The Senkaku Islands dispute with Japan is often listed as proof of Beijing's maritime aggressiveness. But this too was originally a dispute with Taiwan rather than Beijing. The island group lies at the top end of a chain of volcanic islands running down to the northern tip of Taiwan, and separated from Japan's Okinawa by a deep ocean trough. Long before Japan began its expansionist moves in the 19th century, Chinese fishermen were using the islands as a base. Hence its Chinese name, Diaoyutai, or fishing platform (also the name of an emperor's palace in Beijing). Japan was only able to take it over and develop it because of China's late 19th century period of weakness. According to Wikipedia,"China claims the discovery and ownership of the islands from the 14th century, while Japan maintained ownership of the islands from 1895". Tokyo at first did not even have a name for the islands. Only later did it begin to use the name "Senkaku".

Clark points out that that name is a translation of "Pinnacle Islands", a name conferred by an English explorer, James Colnett, during his 1789-1791 voyage into the area. "Yet Tokyo," Clark says, "as with all its disputed territories, insists these have been and will continue to be the inherent territories of Japan." Fortunately, it has had the good sense not to try to occupy the islands; it simply maintains a defence against ships sent by Beijing into the area seeking to maintain Taiwan's claim. After ugly tussles with Taiwanese fishing boats in 2008-12, Taipei has been given fishing rights to ease its unhappiness. Moreover, he notes that even the US, even if only for political reasons, has had the good sense only to admit Japan's administrative, not sovereignty, rights to the islands.

Ultimately, Clark observes, these island disputes represent a clash of cultures. For hundreds if not thousands of years the Chinese have seen the oceans around it as natural and exclusive Chinese possessions to be used for fishing and navigation. The only intruders were Japanese pirates, wako, raiding eastern Chinese coastal towns. There was no need to go through any process of claiming legal possession. Then along came the Europeans with their concepts of colonies, gunboats and flags to claim physical possession. The area ceased to be a Chinese lake; instead, it became an amphitheatre in which first the Westerners and then the Japanese felt free to take advantage of China's weakness and appropriate whatever territory they liked. Now China is belatedly claiming the right of possession it always assumed it had, but had never claimed in the Western and then Japanese way.

Meanwhile, Clark suggests, Japan continues to act as if it has an "inherent" right to territories lost as a result of its defeat in the Pacific War, not just to Taiwan and mainland China, but to South Korea and Moscow also. "We should think first," he says, "before accusing Beijing of dangerous, aggressive expansionism."

The back story may not always be simple; it may not lead to a "light bulb" moment of realisation. But it is nevertheless vitally important to understand.