5 lessons for Asia as it studies wars from the privilege of peace
Since the Ukraine war began in 2022, Asia has been watching conflict as if enrolled in a study course. We have heard every argument: Nato enlargement, Russian insecurity, Ukrainian sovereignty, European fear, American power, energy politics, sanctions, nationalism and resistance.
We have watched Gaza burn. We have watched the United States capture Venezuela’s president and defend the act as lawful. We have watched Iran absorb attacks and retaliate.
For Asians, these are no longer distant events. War moves through energy prices, shipping lanes, food security, sanctions, public opinion, military budgets, alliances, diplomatic pressure and human suffering. More importantly, it moves through the imagination.
Every war elsewhere forces us to ask: if this logic came to our region, what would we do? Asia is, for now, largely at peace. That gives us a rare privilege. We can observe objectively. We can think while our vision is still clear. Once a place is embroiled in war, judgment narrows. Memory hardens. Fear takes hold. Citizens rally, governments censor, enemies become monsters and compromise becomes betrayal.
The time to learn is before the fire reaches the house. The first lesson is that war rarely follows the script. Many expected Ukraine to collapse quickly in 2022. Others assumed Russia would soon be exhausted. Instead, the war became a grinding contest of endurance, industrial capacity, political will and outside support.
Pundits focus on the opening move, but real war is decided day by day. That is why Asians should be wary of predictions. War games and strategic doctrines can illuminate choices, but they cannot reproduce the fog, fear, incompetence, improvisation and stubbornness of real war. They may show how a conflict begins. They rarely show how it mutates.
The second lesson is that great powers often explain their actions in the language of principle but apply those principles selectively. Sovereignty is sacred in one case and negotiable in another. Civilian suffering is denounced when caused by an adversary and rationalised when caused by an ally. International law is invoked, stretched or ignored depending on who is acting and suffering. This does not mean all claims are morally equal. Asia should not outsource its conscience.
The third lesson is that deterrence and diplomacy are not opposites but twins that must be held together. Europe’s fear of Russia is real, especially in the Baltic states, Poland and Finland. Their feelings should not be dismissed as emotional exaggeration. Geography teaches harsh lessons. But a European war with Russia would be a catastrophe.
Diplomacy without deterrence can become wishful thinking. It may invite coercion. Deterrence without diplomacy can become militarised fatalism, making war seem inevitable. The art of statecraft is to be strong enough not to be intimidated, but wise enough not to confuse strength with escalation. That is why Sun Tzu remains a classic.
This may be Asia’s most important lesson. Our region is full of unresolved history too, and we live under the shadow of colonialism and great-power rivalry. We should know how quickly emotions can be stirred. Once foreign powers define a local dispute as part of a global struggle, compromise becomes harder.
The fourth lesson is that weaker actors can still impose costs. Ukraine resisted Russia. Hamas, despite the devastation of Gaza, drew Israel into a long and morally corrosive war. Iran, despite sanctions and military pressure, retained the capacity to retaliate and disrupt. Venezuela, after its president’s capture, became a test case for the limits of intervention and the fragility of legality.
Military superiority does not automatically produce political control. Bombs can destroy infrastructure, but they do not create legitimacy. Sanctions can weaken economies, but they cannot guarantee regime change. Assassinations, raids and forced removals can eliminate individuals, but they can also deepen resentment and weaken the rules that protect everyone else.
For Asia, especially small and medium-sized states, this lesson cuts both ways. We should not assume a stronger adversary will prevail quickly. But neither should we romanticise resistance. The price of becoming a battlefield is unbearable. National dignity matters, but so does keeping cities standing, children safe, economies functioning and futures open.
The fifth lesson is that alliances are useful, but dependency is dangerous. Ukraine needs Western support. Europe needs America. Israel depends on US backing. Gulf states depend on US security guarantees. Yet every alliance contains uncertainty. Is the patron reliable?
Asia should study this carefully. The answer is not isolation. The wiser course is resilience: strong diplomacy, diversified ties, credible defence, domestic cohesion, regional institutions and the ability to say no when pressured into binary choices.
This is why Asia hedges. Western commentators call this fence-sitting. From Asia, it looks more like prudence. We have lived through colonialism, Cold War interventions, proxy wars, financial crises, sanctions and pressure from larger powers. We know moral slogans can become traps.
Asia’s task is not to be indifferent. We can condemn aggression without endorsing endless war. We can defend sovereignty without accepting intervention. We can sympathise without turning suffering into propaganda. We can prepare for danger without talking ourselves into inevitability.
The wars and instability since 2022 provide clarity. For Asia, the deeper lesson is to build the habits that make war less likely: patient diplomacy, good neighbourliness, disciplined language, crisis hotlines, economic interdependence with safeguards, credible but defensive military preparedness, and leaders who understand that insults and humiliation are not strategy.
Once war begins, wisdom becomes harder. The privilege of peace is that we can still choose.
Contributed by Prof. Christine Loh. The article was published on SCMP:
