Southeast Asia

In last Friday’s election, Singapore’s long-ruling People’s Action Party (PAP), as usual, won a large share of the seats in parliament. With roughly 61 percent of the total vote, the PAP took eighty-three out of ninety-three seats in parliament, 89 percent of the total contested seats, the result of an electoral system that is built to create large majorities for the PAP. Still, the various opposition parties made major strides. They came just short of holding the PAP to its lowest share of the popular vote ever—the PAP took about 60 percent in the 2011 general election—but they came close to that 2011 figure. The opposition also won two group representation constituencies for the first time, and seriously challenged the PAP in others, coming much closer than before in several constituencies. The opposition now has a firmer ground in parliament to scrutinize PAP policies, and propose real alternatives. And the poor showing in the election by the presumptive next prime minister, Heng Swee Keat, who led a slate that barely won its group representation constituency, raises doubts about whether Singaporeans are ready to embrace the leadership of the next generation of PAP politicians, in the same way they embrace Lee Kuan Yew, Goh Chok Tong, and Lee Hsien Loong. As a result, Prime Minister Lee might wind up staying in the job longer than previously assumed, and delaying any handover to the next generation of PAP leaders. And the decision to call a snap election, during the pandemic, clearly angered some Singaporeans. The election in Singapore might well lead Malaysia’s ruling coalition, which has a bare majority in parliament and appears to be deciding whether to call a snap election, to reconsider. Reflecting on the results of the general election, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong admitted that the PAP faced a tough battle. "This was not a feel-good election," Prime Minister Lee told reporters. He also said: "The results show a clear desire for a diversity of voices in parliament." The overall trend in Singaporean politics, then, seems to suggest that, while the PAP remains powerful, it is no longer as dominant as in the past. Opposition parties are putting together deeper benches of politicians—the PAP historically has attracted the city-state’s best political talent and derided the opposition for its lack of quality recruits—and have made excellent use of social media and other tools to appeal to younger Singaporeans. In addition, the PAP’s inability to confront some of the biggest issues in Singapore society made it vulnerable in this election, and could allow the opposition to make further gains going forward. Besides the PAP’s struggle to control COVID-19, which (might) be a shorter-term issue, the persistently high cost of living, the hard-hit Singaporean white-collar workforce, the challenges with Singapore’s existing housing model, and other deeply entrenched socioeconomic problems will continue to challenge the PAP government. In the longer-term, the stage may be set for more contested politics.

By the normally staid, unchanging standards of Singapore politics, Friday’s election appears to be delivering significant changes. Though official results are not yet out as I write this, initial counts suggest that opposition parties are going to make real gains, and the ruling People’s Action Party (PAP) is going to have one of its worst showings since it first came to office in 1959. The opposition apparently has won two group representation constituencies—constituencies where a slate of candidates all run for office together—and even in areas where the PAP seems likely to win, its margin has been cut significantly from the previous general election. (The opposition has not won two group representation constituencies in any prior election, so this could be a landmark.) In addition, even in many areas the PAP won, its margin of victory was shaved significantly over previous elections. Overall, initial counts suggest, the opposition apparently has gained at least 5 percent more of the popular vote than in the last election, and perhaps an even greater swing has occurred. Even in the group representation constituency where the PAP’s slate was led by Deputy Prime Minister Heng Swee Keat, the presumed successor as prime minister to Lee Hsieng Loong, the PAP only won with 54 percent of the vote. It is possible that the weak result in the constituency led by Heng Swee Keat might even lead the PAP to rethink whether he should be the presumptive next prime minister. To be sure, the PAP is not in danger of losing its fearsome majority. It seems likely to take eighty-three out of ninety-three seats in parliament, and the structure of Singapore’s electoral system, with group representation constituencies that are also winner-take-all, makes it harder for the opposition to make massive gains in any election. But the PAP’s mandate will be weakened, with more opposition members in parliament and, probably, a far lower PAP share of the overall vote than in the last general election. The government’s inconsistent, stumbling handling of COVID-19—after an effective initial approach, it allowed the virus to spread widely in dorms for foreign workers, and wound up with one of the worst COVID-19 outbreaks in Southeast Asia—the deep economic downturn, and the growing mobilization of opposition parties online all appear to have helped the PAP’s opposition. The opposition also was able to recruit several dynamic and impressive candidates, which it often had lacked in the past, and they helped the opposition hold its own in debates with the PAP during the short campaign period. And the government’s decision to call a new election, even though it was not legally obligated to do so until next year, might have backfired, making some Singaporeans angry that they had to vote in the midst of the pandemic. In the wake of this election, the PAP will need to regroup. It did so successfully after it took a hit in the 2011 general election, and it is nothing if not durable.

Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong declared in a televised address last week that Singapore would hold its next general election on July 10. Lee and other members of the long-ruling People’s Action Party, or PAP, have expressed confidence in being able to hold an election safely and effectively, even though Singapore has had more than 43,000 confirmed cases of COVID-19, the most in Southeast Asia on a per capita basis. In his address, Lee noted the difficulty of determining how long it would take to wait out the pandemic, stating there was no guarantee that Singapore could hold a coronavirus-free election by April 2021, when the current government’s mandate officially expires. Lee may have also calculated that it would be more advantageous to call the election now, before the full weight of COVID-19’s economic impact has hit Singapore, and potentially damaged the ruling party’s image. The PAP has dominated Singapore’s politics since the city-state became an independent republic in 1965; it currently holds 83 of the 89 contested seats in Parliament. This month’s campaign, however, could be its most challenging one since at least the 2011 election, when the PAP’s share of the popular vote fell to 60 percent, its lowest mark ever. “I think this is going to be a very tough election,” Foreign Minister Vivian Balakrishnan told CNBC this week. Lee is probably correct that, at least technically, Singapore has the requisite public health expertise to pull off a vote during the pandemic. It is an extremely wealthy country, and its small geographic size will allow it to create safe polling places and establish mechanisms for those in quarantine to participate, much like South Korea did for its parliamentary elections in April. While mail-in voting will not be allowed, the government has announced there will be temperature checks and enforced social distancing at polling stations. It will assign each voter a recommended two-hour slot in which to vote, to prevent overcrowding. But will the pandemic also make it harder for the opposition, which always struggles in Singapore, to win a significant number of seats in Parliament or a sizable share of the popular vote? Some opposition figures believe that COVID-19 offers an opportunity to dent the PAP’s standing. After initially handling the pandemic effectively with an impressive public health campaign that included the rapid rollout of testing and contract tracing, as well as travel restrictions, Singapore experienced a massive outbreak in April in its overcrowded dormitories for foreign workers, many of whom come from South Asia. The country hosts more than 1.4 million foreign workers, roughly a quarter of the total population, yet many of them, especially the hundreds of thousands who work in low- or semi-skilled industries like construction, often exist on the margins of Singaporean society. Their dormitories can house up to 20 people per room, making social distancing essentially impossible. While the government is now working to reduce crowding in the dormitories, the outbreak exposed a serious blind spot in Singapore’s COVID-19 response, undermining the narrative that the PAP had handled the virus well. In addition, Singapore’s tech-savvy population is becoming more willing to push back against often heavy-handed government policies and criticize politicians and elected officials. Many Singaporeans are increasingly turning to social media for information, blunting the impact of mainstream news outlets, which tend to offer coverage that is highly favorable to the PAP. For example, one PAP candidate for a seat in Parliament, Ivan Lim, was forced to withdraw his bid for office after an outcry on social media over allegations of poor behavior during his time in military service, among other issues. “Ivan Lim’s pressured withdrawal shows the power of ordinary Singaporeans on social media,” Bridget Welsh, an honorary research associate with the University of Nottingham Asia Research Institute in Malaysia, commented on Twitter. “The days of unquestioned acquiescence to decisions are over,” she added, referring to decisions made by the government and the PAP. Opposition parties also recently recruited several prominent figures to join their ranks, which might help them galvanize support. Lee Hsien Yang, the prime minister’s estranged younger brother, has formally joined the Progress Singapore Party, founded last year by a former PAP presidential candidate, Tan Cheng Bock. However, Lee Hsien Yang will not run for a seat in Parliament. The Singapore Democratic Party, another opposition party, has gotten Paul Tambyah, a prominent infectious disease specialist and leading expert on the coronavirus, to run in one constituency. The younger Lee is a prominent critic of the PAP, taking it to task for its response to COVID-19, among other issues. His family lineage gives his attacks more weight than many other Singaporean politicians. “The PAP has lost its way,” Lee said last month in a video posted to the Progress Singapore Party’s Facebook page, arguing that his brother’s government was “distinctly different” from that of their father, Lee Kuan Yew, who ruled Singapore from independence until 1990 and is still widely beloved in the country. The Progress Singapore Party claims that it already has seen increases in public support and donations due to Lee Hsien Yang’s decision to formally join it. Meanwhile, the Workers’ Party, the only opposition grouping with elected MPs in Parliament, plans to campaign primarily on socioeconomic issues. Many Singaporeans have 99-year leases on government-constructed apartments, some of which are deteriorating in value, hurting their owners’ nest eggs. That, along with other issues like persistent inequality and the high cost of living, all point to a long-term need to make Singapore’s economic model more inclusive. All of this means the PAP might receive a lower share of the popular vote than it did in the last election in 2015, when it got nearly 70 percent. That would be a dent in the PAP’s image and perhaps a sign that younger Singaporeans will eventually push for greater political change. But ultimately, there is little likelihood that the PAP’s long winning streak will be broken this month. The party is stocked with political talent, and always oversees an effective campaign. Despite some public anger over how the government has handled COVID-19, the PAP has actively addressed the massive economic damage the pandemic will cause to Singapore’s open, trade-dependent economy, passing huge economic relief measures equal to some 20 percent of GDP. Meanwhile, the numerous opposition parties have not united behind a single candidate in some constituencies, and could split the opposition vote as a result. That would make things even easier for the PAP. Singapore’s electoral system also imposes a high barrier to entry for opposition parties. Most parliamentarians are elected from multimember districts, known as group representation constituencies, in which voters choose one slate of candidates from a party to represent their district. This puts opposition parties, especially new ones, at a disadvantage, as they often have more trouble fielding a large slate of candidates. Moreover, the lines demarcating those districts are drawn by a government-controlled agency. Last year, the government also implemented a “fake news” law that, while potentially useful to limit disinformation and foreign influence efforts, could also have a chilling effect on public debate in the run-up to the vote. Because of COVID-19, the government has also imposed curbs on campaigning in what is already a very short election cycle, including banning rallies. This may be a prudent public health measure, but it will hurt opposition parties that depend on mass gatherings to bolster their name recognition—a problem the PAP certainly does not have. Given these limitations, even if the opposition makes a major dent in the PAP’s share of the popular vote, it will still struggle to win even one of the multimember constituencies that would give it a real voice in Parliament. And local polls still show high levels of satisfaction for the PAP government, despite public concerns about inequality and the high cost of living. Opposition parties may feel emboldened, but they remain a long way from toppling the PAP.

Last week, the Singaporean prime minister, Lee Hsien Loong, of the long-dominant People’s Action Party (PAP), declared that the city-state would hold its general election on July 10. The prime minister, and other PAP leaders, expressed confidence that Singapore could hold an election effectively during the COVID-19 pandemic, even though Singapore has the second highest number of confirmed COVID-19 cases in Southeast Asia. He noted that it might be impossible to determine how long the country would need to wait out the pandemic and there was no guarantee that Singaporeans could hold a COVID-19 free election by April 2021, when the government’s mandate officially expires. Despite its reputation for staid politics and decades of effective PAP governance, this general election could prove the toughest for the ruling party since 2011’s election. Then, the PAP’s share of the popular vote fell to “only” 60 percent, its lowest mark since independence. On July 10, the ruling party could face a similar—though hardly catastrophic—result. For more on the prospects for the election, see my new World Politics Review article.

Yesterday (U.S. time), editor Maria Ressa, one of the most prominent journalists in the Philippines, and indeed in the world—she was selected as one of Time’s people of the year in 2018 and featured on its cover—was found guilty by a Philippine court on charges of cyber libel. The charges related to a story about the former chief justice of the Philippines’ top court. Reynaldo Santos Jr., who wrote the story, also was found guilty of cyber libel. Though the two were released on bail, they face up to six years in jail on the charges. The charges are extremely controversial. The story Santos Jr. wrote actually was published before the Philippines even had a cyber-libel law, and Santos Jr. and editor Ressa were charged after Rappler, their publication, updated the article online to fix a typo after the law came in effect. The cyber-libel law is also easily used to try to silence independent journalists. And Ressa faces a load of other charges too, which seem designed to silence her and Rappler. The Guardian notes: Ressa also faces another libel prosecution, two criminal cases alleging illegal foreign ownership in her companies, and investigations into her old tax returns. The various allegations made against Ressa could lead to about 100 years in prison. After a career at CNN, Ressa, a dual citizen of the Philippines and the United States, now runs Rappler, one of the toughest, most groundbreaking, and independent reporting outlets in the Philippines, a country with a tradition of a vibrant press—and also of brutal crackdowns on journalists. Reporters Without Borders regularly ranks the Philippines as one of the most dangerous places in Asia to work as a journalist, and in 2009 the country witnessed what the Committee to Project Journalists has called the worst single massacre of journalists in history, when 34 journalists (and 58 people total) were slain in Maguindanao province. Journalists throughout the country are regularly threatened by local politicians and businesspeople, and often attacked. Even given this history, since Rodrigo Duterte’s election as president in 2016, the situation for the press has worsened. Under Duterte, the Philippine government has worked to suffocate the free press more than under any Philippine president since dictator Ferdinand Marcos. For years Duterte has been targeting Rappler, which has aggressively reported on the massive number of extrajudicial killings and other abuses in Duterte’s drug “war.” And for years he has singled out journalists for verbal abuse, and suggested that journalists could be assassinated.  But overall, this effort against the press seems to have been ramped up in recent months, as the coronavirus pandemic has allowed Duterte—like many other illiberal leaders—to amass greater powers and crack down on all sorts of opposition. The legislature, controlled by Duterte allies, has passed an anti-terror law so broad it could be used to potentially detain a vast array of people without charges, including journalists. Last month, the Duterte administration effectively shut down ABS-CBN, one of the most important broadcast networks in the country, and one that also had reported independently about the president. Now, a guilty verdict against Maria Ressa, probably the most famous journalist in the Philippines and someone with a high-profile international legal team and extensive networks of allies around the world, must surely suggest to lower-profile journalists, and anyone in civil society in the Philippines, that no one in the country is safe. Ressa’s case also illustrates the rapidly deteriorating climate for press freedom across Southeast Asia, where governments are backsliding from democracy, and cracking down on reporters in numerous ways—trends that have increased since the outbreak of COVID-19. In Myanmar, the National League for Democracy-led government has aggressively tried to curtail independent journalism, while autocratic governments like Vietnam have aggressively pursued writers and bloggers, and Cambodia’s government has destroyed most of the country’s independent press. Overall, in the past two years, Reporters Without Borders has reported declines in press freedom in many Asian states, including the Philippines, Myanmar, and Singapore. Since the COVID-19 outbreak, as The Economist reports, Indonesia and Malaysia, two of the freer countries in Southeast Asia, have been arresting people for supposedly spreading false stories about COVID-19, and the Malaysian government is investigating a reporter for the South China Morning Post for reporting on COVID-19.    Now, an emboldened Duterte, empowered by the COVID-19 emergency, is likely to take further steps to crush press freedom in the Philippines.

After initiating large scale social restrictions in early April, in some parts of the country, areas of Indonesia are slowly reopening. Throughout June, authorities will gradually loosen restrictions on establishments like restaurants and shopping areas in parts of Indonesia where the reproduction rate of COVID-19—the average number of infections stemming from a single case—is judged to be less than one. But Indonesia is opening up without a clear handle on the scope of its COVID-19 crisis, which is the worst in Southeast Asia, with nearly 30,000 confirmed cases and 1,770 deaths as of this writing. Government efforts to ramp up testing have been hampered by persistent delays, and parts of the country are still seeing spikes in new infections. But even if the reopening goes smoothly, the pandemic has already done significant damage to the reputation of President Joko Widodo, who has been widely criticized for an ineffectual response. Instead of learning from his mistakes and making a course correction, Jokowi, as he is widely known in Indonesia, has stifled criticism of his government and empowered the military, threatening Indonesia’s democracy. The country’s economy and its people, meanwhile, are bearing the costs. For more on Indonesia’s struggles, see my new World Politics Review article.

In recent months, Southeast Asian leaders—and leaders from many other parts of the world—have utilized the COVID-19 pandemic to expand executive powers, crack down on civil society and undermine opposition politicians, and reduce the space for freedom of the press and freedom of assembly. The efforts to use the pandemic to reduce political space started early on, as the virus spread through Southeast Asia. In April, Cambodia’s regime passed a new emergency law that gave Prime Minister Hun Sen massive powers, while at the same time Hun Sen’s government has been aggressively arresting activists and journalists for criticizing the government’s pandemic response, even in the mildest ways. In Thailand, the government of Prayuth Chan-ocha, while taking effective measures to stem the spread of COVID-19 (after some initial foot-dragging), also is ramping up campaigns to arrest social media users critical of the government, particularly by using the COVID-19 emergency as a pretext for these arrests, according to a report by Amnesty International. In Malaysia, the government has delayed parliament from sitting again for months, preventing the opposition coalition from taking action against the government, which came into office despite an election. (Malaysia’s prime minister is now under quarantine for fourteen days because another Malaysian official contracted COVID-19.) The Malaysian government also has arrested journalists who have investigated and criticized Malaysia’s sometimes-stumbling response to COVID-19. Other Southeast Asian states like Myanmar and even democratic Indonesia also have cracked down on dissent. Now, however Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte, who already had abused the pandemic to amass even more power, has taken the COVID-19-related crackdown on rights and freedoms one major step farther. The Philippine legislature, which is heavily controlled by Duterte allies, has now passed a far-reaching Anti-Terror bill. The bill will give the authorities massive powers to arrest people without any warrant, to conduct widespread surveillance of the population, and to label many different people as “terrorists;” the bill offers an incredibly broad definition of who might be a “terrorist.” As Alec Regino noted in the Washington Post: In particular, it allows the warrantless arrest and detainment of those the government-appointed Anti-Terror Council deems “suspicious.” Suspicious activities could range from attempting to damage government property to simply criticizing the administration online. It also allows for the secret surveillance and wiretapping of “suspected” criminals … The bill’s loose definition of terrorism allows the government to essentially tag any and all dissenters as terrorists without any judicial oversight. While many Filipinos, and outside observers, have become inured to the Duterte administration’s increasing undermining of rights and freedoms, as Philippine democracy crumbles and massive extrajudicial killings continue, the Anti-Terror bill could well be the biggest blow to Philippine democracy since the end of the Marcos dictatorship. (Duterte allies and supporters of the bill claim that it will not target peaceful protestors and that the bill has adequate safeguards; at the same time, Duterte has spoken positively of the Marcos regime, and sought to further rehabilitate the Marcos family.) It could easily lead to the government simply detaining any critics without charge, putting Duterte in a position not quite equal to that of Marcos—but not that far away either.

New Zealand’s prime minister, Jacinda Ardern, declared victory against her country’s coronavirus outbreak last week, stating that “There is no widespread undetected community transmission in New Zealand,” and that COVID-19 had “currently” been eliminated from the country. The country of 5 million people has confirmed around 1,200 cases of COVID-19 and 20 deaths so for, and had no new infections reported diagnosed on Monday this week.  New Zealand ranks among the world's most successful countries in the global fight against the coronavirus, along with Australia, where the daily number of new cases has plummeted from 460 in late March to only 16 last Friday, bringing the total to just over 6,800. Now, the two neighbors are beginning to relax restrictions on movement and economic activity. While their successful efforts to contain the coronavirus can offer lessons for other countries still struggling with major COVID-19 outbreaks, how Australia and New Zealand reopen—and whether they can do so without causing a spike in cases or sparking a political backlash—will be instructive as well. For more on the lessons from these Pacific countries, see my new World Politics Review article.  

The country has kept its number of cases relatively low by reacting immediately, decisively, and with a degree of severity.

The rapid spread of COVID-19 in Southeast Asia, where the pandemic recently has hit Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines (as well as other regional states like Singapore) hard, has not stopped jockeying over the South China Sea. In fact, while handing out COVID-19 aid to Southeast Asian states—and many other countries—Beijing reportedly has upped its pressure on other claimant states in the South China Sea. It has sailed the survey ship Haiyang Dizhi 8 off the Malaysian coast, to closely shadow a Malaysian ship exploring for state oil giant Petronas, in waters near areas claimed by both Malaysia and Vietnam. The actions by the Haiyang Dizhi 8, which previously shadowed Vietnamese ships in waters claimed by Vietnam, are hardly China’s only sign that it is stepping up its pressure in the South China Sea. The New York Times reports that last weekend Beijing “announced that it had formally established two new districts in the South China Sea that include dozens of contested islets and reefs.” In recent months, Chinese vessels and forces also have conducted new exercises in the Sea, made incursions into waters claimed by Indonesia and near the Natuna Islands, and, according to Hanoi, rammed and sunk a Vietnamese ship, among other steps. To some extent, Beijing may be trying to gain advantage at a time when the locus of the pandemic has shifted to other countries and away from China. It is doing so even if this attempt undercuts China’s efforts to gain regional and global goodwill through aid to neighboring states and promoting China’s cooperation with other countries in the fight against COVID-19.   At the least, Beijing may be wanting to demonstrate that COVID-19 has not incapacitated its increasingly powerful naval, coast guard, and air forces. Outside of the South China Sea, Beijing is appearing to demonstrate force too: In recent months, Chinese military aircraft also have flown close enough to Taiwan to lead Taiwanese forces to intercept them. As Richard Heydarian notes, many Southeast Asian civilian and military leaders are basically incapacitated, sick themselves or in self-isolation, leaving countries like the Philippines—which already was tilting toward Beijing and has little ability to protect its South China Sea claims anyway—with even less ability to defend itself. (Philippine army chief Felimon Santos Jr. has been diagnosed with COVID-19.) Even if Southeast Asian leaders themselves are not isolating, many of their senior military staff are, and civilian leaders are focused on the pandemic, creating a distraction that has become a potential opportunity for China. Or, the continued assertiveness in the South China Sea shows the bottom line, indeed, is that no crisis, no matter how large, will stop Beijing from advancing its regional agenda. Malaysia, Indonesia, and the Philippines—all increasingly dependent on Chinese investment and infrastructural aid—have mostly tried to stay mum about China’s assertive actions, even as some military leaders in these countries want to push back harder. At this point, it seems unlikely that U.S. forces can deter Beijing, despite the Trump administration’s intensive pushback in the South China Sea, which recently has included sending the U.S. ships America and Bunker Hill (along with Australian vessels) into waters near Malaysia.

As Southeast Asian countries struggle with the spread of the coronavirus, the region appears like it could be the next major COVID-19 hot spot. Malaysia, which has the biggest outbreak in Southeast Asia, now has over 4,300 known COVID-19 cases, although the true number is probably much higher, while the Philippines has over 4,100. Other large regional countries like Indonesia supposedly have fewer cases, but with minimal testing, the real number of sick Indonesians remains completely unknown. Even wealthy, well-governed Singapore, which attacked the virus early and pursued model, well-funded control efforts, has seen a spike in cases in recent weeks. The rapid growth in cases in Southeast Asia, which is in the middle of its hottest time of the year, also suggests theories stating the virus will diminish in warm weather may be inaccurate. While Southeast Asian states prepare for a rise in infections, most of the region’s countries are going to be battered economically as well. Dependent on trade with China and Southeast Asia’s own region-wide free trade area, globalized, and often centered on export-oriented manufacturing, tourism, and exported services, Southeast Asian states are enormously exposed to COVID-19’s economic effects. Whether Southeast Asian countries can reduce the economic damage while also protecting their populations will offer lessons for other middle-income countries facing similar perils. For more on Southeast Asia’s one-two punch, see my new World Politics Review article.

Singapore, one of the world’s wealthiest and most trade-dependent countries, punches above its weight in regional and global affairs.

Duterte, like other illiberal populists, has fumbled his initial handling of the pandemic. The fallout could damage his popularity and legacy.

Azerbaijan’s dictator, Ilham Aliyev, is a wily survivor. He woos European democracies with gas exports, hosts the Eurovision song contest and wins $100 million offers of military aid from the United States. Those laurels are all the more remarkable considering he is a ruthless autocrat who tosses politicians and reporters in prison. Now, he sees a new opportunity to consolidate his rule. In recent weeks, Aliyev has used the threat of the novel coronavirus to crack down on opposition groups and independent media: Last month, for instance, he closed a dissident group’s office, saying people could not “gather en masse.” There were four people present. Aliyev is hardly alone. Indeed, from the Philippines to Hungary, autocratic leaders in many nations are using the virus to enhance their own powers—­to put in place new rules that will be hard to overturn even if the coronavirus is defeated. Yet many of the new powers have no clear end date. The pandemic will have entrenched these strongmen indefinitely. For more on my analysis of how authoritarians are taking advantage of the virus to bolster their powers, see my new Washington Post Outlook article.

As the United States, the United Kingdom, and European nations face rising tolls from the coronavirus pandemic, their slow, often confused initial responses have come under widespread criticism. China, meanwhile, suppressed information about the virus at first, allowing it to spread out of Wuhan. After initially silencing medical workers, and covering up the extent of the danger, Beijing pivoted. It enforced essentially a nationwide quarantine, which seems to have stemmed the spread, at least for now. However, China’s draconian approach stifled nearly all economic and social life, and may be hard to implement elsewhere The United States and other countries could learn from Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, which have adopted highly effective measures to battle the virus. For more on how to learn from these places, see my new CFR In Brief.