Philippines. China has tended to target American allies in turn, but this time the People’s Liberation Army seems to be bullying several at once. The Philippines has come in for the worst treatment so far. Not coincidentally, it is the weakest American ally in the chain and the one to which American commitments have long appeared shakiest. In 2024 Ferdinand Marcos junior, the country’s president, said that any loss of life in the South China Sea would be “very, very close to what we would define as an act of war” and that he would expect an American response. But it is doubtful that Donald Trump would honour American commitments as Mr Marcos expects. The skirmish near Second Thomas Shoal on July 20th was particularly dangerous. The desolate reef has become a flashpoint because of the Sierra Madre, a rusting Philippine navy ship beached there in 1999 as a show of sovereignty. While America is not bound to defend other disputed islets claimed by the Philippines, it has clear obligations under its mutual-defence treaty to protect the Sierra Madre and the small detachment of Philippine marines on board. Some analysts think that China is trying to drive a wedge between America and the Philippines by showing Filipinos that Uncle Sam cannot be trusted to meet those commitments. The pressure on Australia and Japan has been more carefully calibrated, but no less palpable. China’s ballistic-missile test into the South Pacific took place on the day that Australia signed a mutual-defence pact with Fiji. The live-fire drills in Japan’s EEZ were preceded in late June by a joint patrol of Chinese and Russian nuclear-capable bombers around Japan; it was the second such flight since Japan’s prime minister, Takaichi Sanae, angered China last November by suggesting that Japan may have a role to play in a conflict over Taiwan. China’s simultaneous squeeze of American allies in part reflects its perception that America’s influence in Asia is waning and its attention is diverted by the war in Iran, reckons Iida Masafumi of the National Institute for Defence Studies in Tokyo, a Ministry of Defence think-tank: “From China’s point of view, Donald Trump is digging his own grave.” American forces are hardly absent. Marco Rubio, America’s secretary of state, has said that an American coastguard cutter was near enough to
Second Thomas Shoal on July 20th to pick up the two injured Filipinos and ferry them to safety. American officials acknowledge that some units normally based in Asia have been deployed to the Middle East. But at the same time, America’s Pacific Command has sent ships, aircraft, troops and missiles westward from bases in America into the first island chain to try to deter Chinese aggression against allies. It has deployed advanced missile systems to both Japan and the Philippines until the end of the summer, and on July 21st Pacific Command released photographs, by then several weeks old, showing the Dark Eagle long-range hypersonic system, the cutting edge of America’s missile arsenal, deployed within range of mainland China for the first time. But this appears not to have deterred China. The problem is not American military capabilities so much as Mr Trump’s intentions. At their summit in May, Mr Trump and Mr Xi agreed to uphold what the Chinese side termed “constructive strategic stability”. American officials quickly adopted the phrase, too, but have yet to clarify what it means to them. Ms Le Thu of Crisis Group says that China is using military activities to define the words as giving China a bigger sphere of influence. James Char of Nanyang Technological University in Singapore agrees. “The Chinese are trying to normalise these activities,” he says, “to tell the world that they have the ability to hurt these countries that are not friendly.” ■ For exclusive coverage of Asian politics, economics and security, sign up to Asia Bulletin, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/asia/2026/07/30/china-bets-that-donald-trump-wont-mind- it-bullying-american-allies
Behind India’s protests is a crisis in the graduate- jobs market Fixing the exam system will not solve that Jul 30th 2026 ONE STATISTIC illustrates the frustrations of India’s educated young, so vividly expressed on the streets of Delhi and elsewhere in recent weeks. Research by the Azim Premji University in Bangalore shows that each year between 2004 and 2023 roughly 5m graduates were added to the workforce; but the number in employment rose by only about 2.8m. That was not the issue that drew the crowds. But it helps explain why the one that did—the leaking of a public exam paper for graduates—rouses such passions. The youngsters wanted the country’s education minister to resign. After weeks of resistance, on July 25th Narendra Modi, the prime minister, caved in and the minister quit.
Millions of young Indians spend years slogging away at tests, in which the odds of success are barely improving. Last year 2.2m students sat the one for medical schools, chasing just 126,600 places. Another exam, for low-level government positions, drew some 2.8m applicants for about 15,000 posts. The leaks of important exams are affecting more and more young people. Since 2016 there have been at least 80, involving more than 20m students, estimates Sujay Nadkarni, a data analyst. The government has announced—not for the first time—moves to clean up the exam system. Even more than the leaks, it is exams’ growing and enduring importance that should worry policymakers. Young Indians persist in trying to win in this rickety system because the alternative—finding a job in the market—is even harder. Of the young people who report themselves unemployed, fewer than 7% of graduates find permanent salaried work within a year. All of this threatens the compact that has long underpinned Indian society: study, and success will follow. Education-fuelled aspirations have pushed enrolment in tertiary education to 30% of 18- to 23-year-olds, while the number of higher-education institutions has grown from 6,000 to around 70,000 in the span of 30 years, thanks to a boom in private education.
Yet economists worry that around 45% of Indian graduates have degrees in arts or commerce rather than, say, engineering or medicine. A report by a business body in 2024 estimated that only 55% of India’s graduates were employable. Industrial training institutes provide vocational training. But researchers at Azim Premji University found that their locations are poorly related to where manufacturing firms are. And more serious than the availability of qualified workers is the shortage of jobs. Between 2021 and 2024, India added 83m, but around half were on farms. India’s factories and offices are not employing enough labour—graduates or not. India is not alone in facing these issues. Youth unemployment is high across South and South-East Asia. China is grappling with a graduate glut. But India’s youth cohort (those aged 15 to 29) is the world’s largest, at around 370m, and is expected to keep growing until 2030 at least. Absorbing this labour force is a formidable economic challenge. As this summer has shown, it is a political one, too. ■ Stay on top of our India coverage by signing up to Essential India, our free weekly newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/asia/2026/07/30/behind-indias-protests-is-a-crisis-in- the-graduate-jobs-market
Japanese politics is becoming less of a turn-off for the young Social-media-savvy politicians are drawing them in Jul 30th 2026 KOSHIYAMA RYOTARO, a 33-year-old in Hokkaido, northern Japan, used to pay little heed to politics. But a few years ago he discovered a reformist mayor in western Japan who live-streamed his council meetings on YouTube. Mr Koshiyama learnt video-editing and posted clips of parliamentary debates and rallies, hoping “to show people how interesting politics is”. Mr Koshiyama is part of a broader shift. Thanks to younger, social-media- savvy politicians, disengaged younger Japanese are taking more interest in politics. In last year’s upper-house election—when upstart parties of various stripes made striking gains—turnout among 18- and 19-year-olds rose from
35% in 2022 to 45%; among those in their 20s and 30s, it jumped by more than ten percentage points; the trend continued at the lower-house election in February. The Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) still dominates. But the young are transforming politics, making it more volatile and more competitive. Japan's political system has long seemed ossified. Like many other countries, it was shaken by a wave of leftist student demonstrations in the 1960s and 1970s. But then apathy set in. Today, pensioners are more likely to join protests than students are. Voter turnout languishes at around 50% across all age groups, and is at 30% or so for those in their 20s. Young voters have suffered a sense of “powerlessness”, observes Hata Masaki of Osaka University of Economics. At the ballot box they were outnumbered by the old, and few politicians seemed to represent their interests or understand their habits. Though online campaigning has been legal since 2013, politicians still relied on old-school methods—shouting from loudspeaker lorries and shaking hands. But recently a more entrepreneurial, meme-driven form of politics has emerged. In 2024 Ishimaru Shinji, a little-known former mayor of a small town in Hiroshima (Mr Koshiyama, the YouTuber, is a fan), achieved a stunning second place in a Tokyo gubernatorial race, mobilising young voters through YouTube and TikTok and promising to oust power-hungry politicians. (He has since appeared in a reality-TV dating show.) That autumn the Democratic Party for the People, a new party, quadrupled to 28 its number of seats in the lower house of parliament; its promise to increase take-home pay by cutting social-insurance premiums resonated with young people squeezed by stagnant wages. In last year’s upper-house election, a populist-right party, Sanseito (”Do It Yourself”), gained ground, while Team Mirai (”Future”), a techno-optimist party that embraces AI, broke through in lower-house elections. Takaichi Sanae, the country’s first female prime minister, has proved well- suited to the online age. Before she took office in October, the ruling LDP was in deep crisis after a series of scandals. But she led it to a historic landslide in February’s election—though her previously sky-high approval