Between China and Trump, little wonder Australia and Japan have lots to talk about – even if not a wartime past

Ahead of last week’s 80th anniversary commemorations for the end of the Pacific war, China and South Korea were watching closely how Japan would mark the moment their Asian empire collapsed.

Would Japanese leaders express “regret” or “remorse”? Perhaps a “heartfelt apology”? “Sincere condolences”? Would the government make a statement at all?

The excruciating word games long associated with such anniversaries means that whenever Tokyo has apologised for its wartime conduct, one scholar joked, they un-apologised at the same time.

In the end, Japanese Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba did not issue a formal statement of apology, as some of his predecessors had, but rather expressed “remorse” in a memorial address on 15 August.

One country, however, that was not tracking the anniversary with much alacrity was Australia.

That wasn’t always the case. After the war, a vengeful Australia joined victorious allies in submitting the names of Japanese leaders that they argued should be tried for war crimes. The British put forward 11 names for trial and the Chinese thirty-three. Australia handed in a list of 61 names, more than any other country. The 11th name on the list, in alphabetical order, was that of Emperor Hirohito. Australia was one of a handful of countries which advocated trying Hirohito as a war criminal, which could have seen him put to death.

Australia and Japan have come a long way since then, and not just because there are few surviving veterans of the war and the memories of it are less vivid. It took many decades of hard work by leaders in both countries who recognised that they had an overwhelming interest in ensuring the politics of the war did not dominate the blossoming bilateral ties. Trade was foundational, starting from the pioneering bilateral deal in 1957 under Robert Menzies, which set the template for locking Australian resources into east Asia’s post-war industrialisation.

Those efforts culminated in an historic address to the Australian Parliament in 2014 by then Japanese Prime Minister, the late Shinzo Abe, which in effect drew a line under the issue. Abe thought Tokyo should not have to keep apologising for the war, which he called “masochistic history”, and resisted pressure from Beijing and Seoul, which had suffered most from Japanese militarism. He believed modern China and South Korea used history to gain diplomatic leverage over Japan. By contrast, he took a strategic decision to settle the issue with countries that he knew were friends.

These days, Australia and Japan are more than just friends. They are de facto allies working together on strategies to handle an increasingly unpredictable America and a powerful, assertive China.

For both nations, the United States is an indispensable security partner, and China is an irreplaceable economic partner.

But with Donald Trump and Xi Jinping in power, it is no longer a question of trying to balance tensions that inevitably arise from US-China rivalry. The immediate challenge is to keep any balance at all.

Japan hosts more US military personnel (about 55,000) than any country in the world, a factor that once helped restrain Washington in pushing back against what it regarded as Tokyo’s unfair trade practices.

With Trump, such restraint is out the window. The US President has imposed a 15 per cent tariff on Japanese imports, a direct hit to the country’s most important industry, autos, and its biggest employer. On top of that, Trump demanded that Japan give him control over hundreds of billions of dollars which he can use to invest anywhere he wants in the United States.

Australia has so far been less impacted by US tariffs, but the message for Canberra and Tokyo is much the same.

While both Australia and Japan have been subjected to China’s efforts to bend us to its will, Trump is a reminder that the US can engage in naked coercion too, of friend and foe alike.

Both nations, nonetheless, are having to swallow their pride, and work together hand-in-glove on strategies to keep Donald Trump’s Washington engaged in Asia.

The reason is obvious. Neither nation can handle China on their own.

The alignment between Australia and Japan extends to the way that current political cycles in both countries are playing out in China policy.

In Anthony Albanese and Ishiba, the two countries have prime ministers who are less outspoken about Beijing and its pressure tactics than their predecessors. The hawks read this as capitulation. An alternative view is that this is canny in the short-term, a way to have your cake (valuable trade) and eat it too (increasing military co-operation with the United States, each other, and the likes of the Philippines).

Both countries, ironically enough, rely on trade with China, not just to support living standards, but to fund growing defence budgets, to defend themselves against Beijing’s military encroachments.

Beijing is courting both Canberra and Tokyo on one level, reengaging diplomatically and easing off its punitive trade measures. At the same time, Beijing continues to increase its coercive military pressure on its neighbours, by flying helicopters over disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu islands in the Sea of Japan, and by sending a naval task force to circumnavigate Australia.

In other words, whatever temporary respite there may be, both countries understand that Beijing’s permanent campaign to cement its power and influence in the region will continue.

Little wonder that Australia and Japan have lots to talk about. With good reason, not much of their discussion should focus on past conflicts.