There is something about international summitry that is akin to the mass mating of frogs, albeit less satisfying. A disparate range of leaders burst from their respective lairs, engage in a flustered few hours of warmth and rivalry, and disappear into the undergrowth as suddenly as they seemed to gather. Asean's East Asia Summit, which took place in Hanoi at the weekend, was no different.
For all the strategic shifts under way in the region, all the build-up and preparatory meetings, the main event itself - a formal gathering of the 10 leaders of Southeast Asia and eight other regional powers, now including the United States and Russia - took place over just a few hours on a Saturday morning. Some leaders, such as Premier Wen Jiabao and US Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, were in Hanoi for little more than 24 hours. Others, however, such as Clinton's Russian counterpart Sergey Lavrov and Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan, lingered to deepen their emerging strategic relationships with Vietnam, the host and the Southeast Asian nation most determined to find a way of standing up to China.
For the brief duration of a summit, the conference arena becomes a world of its own; amid the bloated pageantry and gala dinners, serious work is achieved. Friendships and understandings are forged and quiet frictions brought out into the open; most significantly, perhaps, regional trends are set.
Contesting such a cramped arena is a diplomatic art and, not surprisingly, the big powers are past masters at it, particularly the US. Better than anyone else, Washington knows how, and has the ability, to dominate a regional news cycle, getting its tailored messages out and making sure the milk-fed veal of its domestic travelling press corps are fed, watered and well briefed.
Clinton's move to highlight China's assertiveness in the South China Sea at the Association of Southeast Asian Nations security meeting in July was considered a classic of the genre, getting the diplomatic jump on Beijing to impress a wary region with nothing short of a full-court press by the State Department, Pentagon and White House.
China's own public statecraft is closely watched at such events by nations nervous about how to cope with an even stronger Beijing in the years ahead. So far, the signals are decidedly mixed. When Beijing appears comfortable at a conference, its spokesmen have repeatedly shown the ability to appeal to a wider audience with calm confidence, nuance and reassurance over extensive briefings, even at times of pressure. At other times, however, it retreats into the shell of its past and communicates only via shrill Xinhua statements or postings on government websites.
