by Larry Bond
A junior officer stepped up to translate, and the professor was quickly introduced to Admiral Hieu, the navy’s chief of staff, and Admirals Phai and Duan, the heads of the Vietnamese Navy’s political and intelligence directorates. He realized they’d all been at his lecture yesterday, but they hadn’t been introduced to him at that time.
While Nimh served small cups of tea, Komamura took a seat next to the chief of staff. The admiral was old enough to have a puckered scar on his left arm that ran up under his shirtsleeve. Komamura had heard he’d been wounded in the south. He hadn’t heard how.
Komamura was only slightly younger than the admirals, but his expensive suit contrasted sharply with their dark green uniforms. He was also nearly six feet tall, a full head higher than Admiral Hieu and the others. Komamura’s large frame filled his chair, and his Buddha-like bulge would never have been tolerated in military service. Their only similarity was a lack of hair. Komamura had a fringe of white, Phai’s was thin to the point of transparency, while the other two had simply shaved their scalps.
“Admiral Kubo sends his best wishes,” Komamura said. “I spoke with him just before leaving Japan. He remembers your meeting in Honolulu warmly.”
“At the Pacific defense chiefs’ conference,” Hieu remembered. “Our first discussions there were most helpful.”
Once Nimh had made sure everyone was settled, he disappeared, leaving Komamura with the three admirals and the translator. The professor knew he faced his examiners.
Admiral Phai, the head of the political directorate, began the conversation. “The new Vietnamese translation of Navies for Asia has been very well received here. It was even reviewed in Quan Noi Nhan Dan, a mainstream newspaper, although the reviewer criticized it for being ‘pro-Chinese.’”
Komamura laughed, almost a chuckle. “That’s what he gets for not reading carefully. Recognizing the growth of Chinese military power doesn’t mean I support that growth.”
“We agree with you that the Chinese threat is only going to get worse,” Phai responded. “Every country bordering the South China Sea has suffered attacks on their exploration ships, unauthorized fishing in their waters, and confrontations with Chinese paramilitary vessels. The number of these incidents is growing, and China makes no apologies.”
Hieu asked, “Have other navies besides Japan and Vietnam shown interest in your book?”
“I’ve lectured in America, and received e-mails from almost every littoral nation. Many are from naval officers. I’ve had to hire a secretary. I will be visiting the Republic of Korea almost as soon as my trip here is finished, and a little later, India.”
“Why did you choose naval strategy for your latest work?” This came from Admiral Duan, head of the Second General Department, the armed forces’ intelligence branch. “You teach economics at Tokyo University. Your earlier books have been about economics or history.”
Komamura nodded. “True, but it’s impossible to separate economics from politics, or politics from war. My latest book began as an analysis of China’s rapid economic growth in the new century, but that massive growth demands resources, especially energy and food.” He shrugged. “China has always been hungry, but now her hunger drives her to the sea. I decided to share my conclusions.”
Duan continued, “You are a member of the New Renaissance Party, which promotes a strong military and reverence for the emperor. Isn’t your book just a reflection of your political beliefs?”
The professor shook his head, disagreeing. “My political beliefs are rather a reflection of my research.” Komamura began ticking off points on his fingers. In Japanese fashion, he raised his little finger first.
“First, Chinese economic growth requires far more resources than they have. They see those resources close at hand, in the South China Sea. The rapid growth is masking artificialities and serious flaws in the Chinese economy. If their economy slows too much, and it is slowing, it will likely collapse.
“Second, in pursuit of those resources, China is transforming her navy from a coastal defense force to a blue-water regional power. This is a clear signal of their intentions.
“Third, U.S. military power in this part of the world is waning. They are still paying the bill for two long wars, and force modernization has suffered. There are also questions about their political will. China is America’s second biggest export customer, as well as her greatest importer. Furthermore, China is the largest holder of U.S. debt. I submit that we cannot depend on a distant, weary America to counterbalance nearby Chinese military power.”
Komamura finished, “I joined the New Renaissance Party three years ago, and hope to advise them on economic and security issues.”
Admiral Hieu had listened as Komamura made his arguments. “There are nations that would not be happy to see a stronger Japan, not only free of American support, but unrestrained by any obligations to America.” Komamura knew that Vietnam had been occupied by Japan during the Second World War, although they had not suffered as badly as Korea or the Philippines.
“I do not advocate becoming stronger individually, but rather increasing our strength through alliances independent of U.S. interests, which may not be the same as our own. And what drove Japanese aggression during the Pacific War?” Komamura asked pointedly. “Demand for resources to support her rapid industrialization. Japan’s military leadership in 1941 was filled with a sense of their own manifest destiny. I believe China’s leaders are driven not only by national pride, but also fear. If their economy falters, they risk losing power. If it collapses, the nation could go with it. For the Chinese leadership, aggression in the South China Sea presents fewer risks.”
“Dr. Komamura, how did you first contact the Japanese Maritime Defense Force?”
“They contacted me,” Komamura answered. “After Navies was published, I gave lectures at several naval bases and the academy at Etajima. After a lecture at Yokosuka, I participated in a long discussion on naval developments with a small group of officers. Admiral Kubo himself joined the group for a short while. Afterwards, I was approached by one of his aides.”
Hieu looked at the other two admirals, who both nodded firmly. He turned back to Komamura. “The original purpose of this meeting was to discuss the concept of an alliance of South and East China Sea littoral nations, an idea you have championed and your Admiral Kubo Noriaki fully supports. Unfortunately, circumstances have changed.”
Komamura looked confused and uncertain. “In what way?”
Admiral Hieu spoke quickly. “Professor, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, with the full approval of the Politburo and the Defense Council, agrees in principle with your ‘littoral alliance.’ We are ready to work out the details of the collaboration immediately. Every country in the region is threatened by Chinese aggression. Even working together, it will be difficult for us to stop that aggression. Individually, we don’t stand a chance.”
The academic was pleased and excited, but puzzled. “But this is wonderful news! I will convey your answer to Admiral Kubo as soon as I return to Japan. But what else has changed?”
“China’s plans,” Hieu explained, “and our infant alliance faces an immediate challenge.” He turned to the translator. “Ask Commander Ty to join us.”
Commander Ty was in his early thirties, and still had all his hair. While he quickly set up a laptop, the translator hurried over and sat next to Komamura, whispering to the professor as Ty began his brief.
“Good morning, Dr. Komamura, I am Cao Van Ty. I am assigned to the Second General Department, our intelligence branch.” Ty bowed toward the academic, then Admiral Duan, his superior. “I will be presenting highly sensitive information about an imminent Chinese threat which affects both our countries. Professor, can we have your promise that you will not share what you learn today with anyone else, unless we give you permission to do so?”
“Of course,” Komamura replied quickly. Curiosity filled him, but also foreboding. What was going on?
Ty pressed a key
and a flat screen at one end of the conference room came alive with a map of the South China Sea. The Vietnamese coast lined the left edge, while Hainan Island was in the center. The Leizhou Peninsula reached out from China’s southern coast toward Hainan. The mainland coast angled northeast from the peninsula until it disappeared at the upper right corner.
Ty stood next to the screen. “I’m sure you’re aware of Liaoning’s exercises last week.”
“Their new carrier?” Komamura answered. “Yes. It was even covered by the mainstream media. Inaccurately, but at least they noticed.”
Ty continued. “Liaoning is now back at her homeport in Yalong Bay. Her captain reports that several minor mechanical issues need to be corrected. He is also loading fuel, ordnance, and the rest of Liaoning’s air group. This will consist of ten J-15 fighters, six Ka-28 sub-hunting helicopters, and four Z-8 radar helicopters. He reports they will be ready to sail in five days.
“When she does sail, she will be escorted by the same six warships that took part in the exercise, three destroyers and three frigates, all armed with advanced guided missiles. The task group will rendezvous with two amphibious ships of the Type 071 class, then proceed to Guangzhou.” A line appeared on the chart, starting at the southern tip of Hainan Island, heading north to the naval base at Zhanjiang, where the Leizhou Peninsula joined the Chinese mainland, then north again to the Guangzhou shipyard near Hong Kong.
“We have photos of a platform being built at Guangzhou.” The screen changed to show pictures of a very large, flat structure, spotted with different colors of primer and gray paint. Open girder framework showed in many places. The images were overlaid with circles and labeled in Vietnamese. “The shipyard there builds many offshore oil platforms, but this structure is larger, and has a different configuration. But more importantly, it is armed.
“The circles mark the location of protective fiberglass domes, most likely covering point defense weapons.” He pointed to one corner of the structure that did not have a dome. “The foundation here is consistent with the Chinese HHQ-10 point defense missile system. These large fiberglass structures near the front are shelters for sensor and communications antennas.”
Ty pressed a control and the map returned. A bright line led south from Guangzhou deep into the South China Sea. “The Liaoning task group will escort the platform, under tow and accompanied by several self-loading container ships, to Thi Tu Island.” Ty used the Vietnamese name for the island. The Chinese claimed it as “Zhongye Island,” but the current occupiers, the Philippines, called it “Thitu Island.” Thitu was the largest island in the Spratly archipelago, and even sported an airstrip. “The transit will take five or six days, depending on the weather.
“When they are close, marines from one of the amphibious assault ships will seize the island, currently held by about forty Filipino soldiers, and the platform will be anchored at one end of the island. Prefabricated containers carried by the merchants will be placed on landing craft and taken ashore, creating barracks, repair shops, hangars for fighters, and other facilities.
“Our engineers estimate it will take three days to anchor the structure. Within twenty-four hours after that, the Chinese will have a base defended by an integrated air-defense system, capable of operating a squadron of high-performance fighters and garrisoned by a battalion of marines.”
Komamura was chilled to the bone. The Chinese had long claimed the entire South China Sea, ignoring other nations’ borders, but that was only words. A strong military base would let them enforce that claim. Not one of the nations surrounding the South China Sea had the firepower to dislodge such a foothold. The Americans could, but he was convinced they wouldn’t risk open war with China, not over a collection of small, disputed islands. Even if the United States wanted to fight, they were unprepared. He was sure the Chinese, with the strategic initiative, would be ready to counter just such a move.
“But one small island with forty soldiers doesn’t require two Kunlun Shan landing ships to capture it.” Ty put an image of the ship on the screen. It was a large, modern-looking design. “Each Type 071 landing ship dock carries up to eight hundred marines and eighteen armored vehicles. Simultaneous with the attack on Thi Tu, the Chinese will also invade Song Tu Tay Island, also known as Southwest Cay, and Northeast Cay approximately forty-four kilometers to the north. The first island is Vietnamese sovereign territory, the second is Filipino,” concluded Ty.
The Japanese academic fought to hide his shock and surprise.
“There’s more,” Ty said firmly. “Soon after China occupies key islands in the Spratly chain, they intend to invade the Senkaku Islands claimed by your country.”
Komamura was stunned. To seize so many of the disputed islands and reefs in rapid succession was mind-boggling. The Chinese intentions, if true, were beyond bold. One question surfaced in his mind immediately.
“This information is very detailed. I’m not an intelligence specialist, but I’ve learned that naval intelligence is usually guesswork and deduction. How sure are you of this information?”
Hieu answered, “Very sure. We don’t have many of the resources available to Japan or her allies, but we have a source. Over time, it has provided us with much valuable information on the Chinese, but this is priceless. We are telling you of this so you will be confident when you speak to Admiral Kubo, but you will have to convince him on your own. I won’t say anything more about this individual. Knowledge of the source’s mere existence is highly classified. Please do not speak of this source to anyone outside this room, even Admiral Kubo.”
“I understand.” Komamura knew little about espionage, but he could imagine a Vietnamese national masquerading as a loyal Chinese citizen, working in a headquarters or on a naval base. He hoped they lived long enough to receive the medal they’d earned.
“What is the chance of this information being fabricated?” Komamura asked Duan.
The intelligence chief shrugged. “Anything is possible, but if this information is false,” he added darkly, “then our source has been compromised and our entire intelligence network in China is in jeopardy. That is another reason why we need Japan’s help.”
“How?” the professor responded.
Duan answered, “The Japanese Self-Defense Forces have access to overhead imagery, electronic intelligence, other assets that we do not. It could confirm or disprove what we know. We will give you a flash drive containing what we know. In return, we’d like your country to share what information they have, and also begin careful surveillance of Yulin, Yalong Bay, Zhanjiang, and Guangzhou. We must be ready if the Chinese change their plans suddenly. And of course, Japan must be careful not to let the Chinese see them watching.”
Komamura replied, “I will pass your request for information to Admiral Kubo. Once he’s made aware of the Chinese plan, he will very much want to monitor their activities.”
Hieu continued, “And somehow, we have to develop a joint plan with Japan to stop the Chinese.”
Komamura sighed. “That presents many complications. I can see the Diet tying itself in knots over whether assisting the Philippines or cooperating with Vietnam is ‘self-defense,’ as required by our constitution.” The professor’s disgust was clear in his tone.
“Let me be clear, Professor. The president and key members of the parliament and the party have been briefed, and we see no way to stop the Chinese operation by ourselves. We are willing to use any means at our disposal, including armed force, but…”
Komamura nodded. The idea of Vietnam’s small navy facing a naval superpower was outlandish at best. “Is there any hope for a peaceful resolution? What about revealing what you’ve learned to the UN or ASEAN?”
“We’ve considered that idea, but there’s little either organization could do, and they move too slowly. PLA units are moving now, and as Commander Ty has said, Liaoning sails in five days,” Phai answered. “The threat this poses to our national wellbeing is staggering. The Chinese claim the entire South Chi
na Sea basin, right up to the 12-mile limit from our coast. It would shut down our fishing industry. Not only would a lot of people go hungry, seafood exports are important to out economy - but that doesn’t matter, because with China claiming the entire South China Sea, our ports would be effectively blockaded.” The urgency in Phai’s voice was palpable.
“And that doesn’t include the significant oil reserves,” Hieu added. “I’m sure you know the numbers better than we do, Professor, but those deposits are my country’s economic future.”
“China has decided to abandon diplomacy for the sword. We have to be ready to meet them,” Phai remarked. “But Professor, why are they moving now? Has something in the Chinese economy recently changed for the worse?”
The academic sat quietly for a moment, considering the question carefully. Finally, he said, “They resolved their own real estate ‘bubble’ in 2014 successfully, but only by shifting the economic pressure elsewhere. As a result, their cash reserves are dangerously low. The shortfall in oil imports from Saudi Arabia and Iran is also causing major problems, but it’s not a sudden thing…”
He turned to Commander Ty. “How long does it take to build a platform like the one at Guangzhou?”
“Our engineers say two to three years. And more time before that to design it, of course.”
“So the Chinese decided on this course of action at least three years ago,” Komamura reasoned. “About the time the shortfall in Iranian oil supplies began.”
Admiral Duan nodded. “It’s likely. So then, this is not about some new crisis. They’re moving now, because after extensive preparations, they’re finally ready.”
“The carrier!” Hieu blurted out. “Liaoning’s workups are complete. She’s ready to lead the assault.”
Duan nodded, his face grim, “Her pilots are likely the best in the PLA Navy. They will provide air cover for the Chinese engineers while they set up the platform. The Philippines don’t have any planes that can match them. We have Su-30 and Su-27 aircraft, based on the same Flanker airframe as the Chinese J-15s, but it’s over five hundred kilometers to Thi Tu from any of our bases. The Chinese would have the advantages of radar and SAM coverage, as well as the carrier to recover damaged aircraft.”