SEPT 8 — Natural disasters do not recognise sovereignty, military strength or economic rank. Yet when they strike at the right — or wrong — place and moment, they can alter all three. 

A volcano cannot conduct foreign policy, but it can destroy the infrastructure, military installations, economic arteries and political assumptions upon which foreign policy and national power depend.

That is the strategic lesson Asean should draw from the renewed activity of Anak Krakatau.

Sitting in the Sunda Strait between Java and Sumatra, Anak Krakatau is not merely another restless volcano on the Pacific Ring of Fire. 

Its location places it close to one of Southeast Asia’s important maritime passages and between the two islands at the heart of Indonesia’s demographic and economic power. Its very existence is a reminder of the catastrophic 1883 eruption of Krakatau, which killed tens of thousands of people, principally through the enormous tsunamis it generated.

The central proposition is therefore simple: natural disasters cannot be prevented, only mitigated — but their geopolitical consequences can be enormous. 

When catastrophe destroys strategic infrastructure, interrupts trade, displaces populations or forces governments to depend upon external assistance, it can change the distribution of power within and between states.

Southeast Asia has already witnessed precisely such an intersection between geology and geopolitics.

The eruption of Mount Pinatubo in the Philippines in June 1991 was one of the largest volcanic eruptions of the twentieth century. It devastated communities across central Luzon, displaced hundreds of thousands and deposited enormous quantities of volcanic ash across the region.

Yet Pinatubo did something else.

It struck at a moment when the strategic architecture of Southeast Asia was already changing.

The Cold War was ending. Filipino nationalism was challenging the continued presence of American military bases. Negotiations over the future of those installations had become politically contentious.

Then Pinatubo erupted.

At the time, the United States maintained two major military facilities in the Philippines: Clark Air Base and Subic Bay Naval Base. Together they were pillars of American military power in the Western Pacific.

Pinatubo devastated Clark. Ash and rain caused extensive damage, forcing the evacuation of American personnel. The United States subsequently decided not to reopen the base.

Subic Bay survived comparatively better, but its political future was already being contested.

In September 1991, the Philippine Senate rejected a treaty that would have extended the American military presence. US forces eventually departed Subic in 1992.

It would therefore be historically inaccurate to say that Pinatubo expelled the United States from the Philippines.

Filipino nationalism, constitutional politics, the Senate vote and the end of the Cold War were fundamental.

But Pinatubo accelerated a strategic transformation already under way.

Nature did not determine geopolitics. It changed the conditions under which geopolitics was conducted.

That distinction is crucial for understanding Anak Krakatau today.

Indonesia is Asean’s largest state by population, territory and economic weight. It also sits astride some of the world’s most important maritime routes. 

Geography gives Indonesia considerable strategic influence, but the same geography creates profound vulnerability.

The Sunda Strait is especially significant.

Java is Indonesia’s demographic, political and economic centre. Sumatra is a major source of commodities, energy and industrial activity. Between them runs a maritime passage connecting the Java Sea and the Indian Ocean.

The Strait of Malacca remains Southeast Asia’s principal maritime chokepoint, but the Sunda and Lombok Straits provide strategically important alternative passages connecting the Indian and Pacific Oceans.

A catastrophic eruption, earthquake or tsunami affecting these corridors would therefore become more than an Indonesian emergency.

Ports could close. Shipping could be rerouted. Volcanic ash could disrupt aviation. Destroying visual clarity, engines and blades of the planes 

Insurance premiums could rise. Energy and commodity shipments could be delayed. Supply chains across Asean could suffer.

In Southeast Asia, volcanology can become geopolitics remarkably quickly.

The Indian Ocean tsunami of December 2004 demonstrated another dimension of the same phenomenon.

Indonesia suffered catastrophic losses, particularly in Aceh. Thailand, Sri Lanka, India and other countries around the Indian Ocean were also devastated.

Foreign militaries arrived with ships, helicopters, transport aircraft, medical teams and logistical capabilities. 

Humanitarian assistance became an exercise in international cooperation, but it simultaneously demonstrated something strategically important.

The capacity to deliver relief across enormous distances is also a form of national power.

Disaster relief is therefore not peripheral to security. It is part of security.

This is why Asean must broaden its understanding of the regional balance of power.

Military strength matters. Economic size matters. Technology matters.

But the ability to absorb catastrophe and recover from it is also a form of power.

Can electricity be restored rapidly?

Can airports and ports reopen ? So far within the first eruptions on September 7 2026, eight airports including the Sukarno-Hatta Airport have been closed.

Can telecommunications continue operating?

Can governments maintain food, water, healthcare and public order?

Can displaced populations be protected without creating prolonged political and social instability?

A country that can answer these questions successfully retains strategic autonomy after disaster.

A country that cannot may become dependent on external assistance.

And dependence can acquire geopolitical consequences.

This becomes particularly important as strategic competition intensifies across the Indo-Pacific. 

The United States, China, Japan, India, Australia and other powers possess substantial humanitarian assistance and disaster-relief capabilities. 

The original rendition of the Indo Pacific Strategy manifested from the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2005 too.

Asean countries should accept international assistance when catastrophe demands it. Saving lives must take precedence over geopolitical sensitivities.

But Asean cannot outsource resilience.

Regional early-warning systems must become more integrated. Satellite, seismic and meteorological information should be shared rapidly.

Emergency communications must be interoperable. Strategic reserves of food, medicine, fuel and essential equipment should be geographically distributed.

Asean militaries should conduct regular multinational humanitarian assistance and disaster-relief exercises. 

Civilian agencies, armed forces, coastguards and scientific institutions should know how to operate together before catastrophe strikes.

Indonesia cannot move away from the Ring of Fire.

The Philippines cannot eliminate its volcanoes and earthquakes. The Philippines and Vietnam cannot prevent typhoons from forming.

But governments can determine how vulnerable their societies will be when disaster arrives.

Mount Pinatubo demonstrated that catastrophe can accelerate geopolitical transformations already under way.

Krakatau demonstrated the extraordinary destructive power of nature.

Anak Krakatau reminds us that those geological forces remain beneath Southeast Asia today.

The balance of power in Asean therefore does not change only because China rises, America pivots, military budgets increase or governments change.

Sometimes history moves because economies rise and fall.

Sometimes because armies and navies move.

And sometimes because mountains explode.

Natural disasters cannot be prevented. Their strategic consequences, however, can be mitigated. That distinction should become a central principle of Asean security thinking.

For in twenty-first-century Southeast Asia, resilience is not merely preparedness. Resilience is power.

* Phar Kim Beng, PhD is the Professor of Asean Studies at International Islamic University of Malaysia and Director of Institute of International and Asean Studies (IINTAS).

** This is the personal opinion of the writers or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.