Issues

The Philippines’ infrastructure revolution has an unlikely architect

For frequent flyers travelling in and out of the Philippines, September can’t come soon enough. That’s when the state-owned operator of Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA), Metro Manila’s chronically congested main gateway, hands over the keys to a consortium led by the San Miguel Group.

The publicly listed conglomerate has taken on the challenge of fixing NAIA and expectations are sky-high. The public-private partnership even got a mention in president Ferdinand Marcos Jr’s July state-of-the-nation address. “Once considered among the world’s worst and most stressful airports, [NAIA] will soon be a world-class international hub that we can be proud of,” he said. Is the president correct? “Yeah, 100 per cent. I have no doubt that we can turn around the airport,” says Ramon Ang, San Miguel’s CEO and largest shareholder. “Within a year you will not see any runway or terminal congestion,” he adds, before committing to notable improvements by Christmas – peak travel time for a majority Catholic country with millions of overseas workers.

San Miguel might sound like an unlikely saviour. The beer brand is principally known outside the Philippines for its eponymous pilsner, which dates back to the company’s formation in 1890 during the Spanish colonial period. But much has changed under Ang’s stewardship. A series of acquisitions over the past 15 years have transformed what was predominantly a food and beverage company with an annual turnover of €3.7bn into a €24bn-a-year juggernaut with interests in power generation, oil refinement, water, banking, roads, railways, seaports and cement. “Whatever business we do, our purpose is to make money for the shareholders and develop the country,” says Ang, explaining the logic behind his diversification strategy.

Monocle visits Ang at San Miguel’s headquarters in Mandaluyong, one of the 17 cities that make up the Metro Manila region. The understated captain of industry, a child of Chinese immigrants, arrives at the office most days behind the wheel of a Toyota Camry or Land Cruiser. A car enthusiast and mechanical engineering graduate, he began his career importing Japanese vehicles before joining San Miguel in his forties and becoming one of the Philippines’ richest tycoons.

Ang’s approach has been to buy small existing businesses and grow them into industry leaders. San Miguel’s infrastructure division began 15 years ago with the acquisition of a tollway company and is now the biggest operator in the country. It opened a series of elevated “skyways” in recent years, drawing traffic away from local roads and decongesting the sole expressway linking the capital’s north and south. A two-hour journey in heavy traffic can now take 30 minutes and a few crosstown friendships have been reconnected in the process.

Ang’s enthusiasm for building roads, however, has attracted criticism for tethering Metro Manila’s future to four wheels. But as with the San Miguel-owned oil refinery Petron, which is gradually moving away from fossil fuels, the green transition has to be incremental, realistic and government-assisted. “Cars are the main transportation in Asia,” says Ang. “Our problem is we are adding hundreds of thousands of cars a year without phasing out the old ones.”

Rail is the one mode of transport where San Miguel has almost had to start from scratch. The company is building a 14-station rail line that, once operational at the end of 2025, will carry up to 850,000 passengers a day between the Bulacan province and Quezon City, Metro Manila’s largest municipality. The first major mass-transit project this century, MRT 7 will allow commuters to switch to two other lines at an interchange station – a national first. A north-south commuter railway and a subway funded by the Japanese government will soon follow, as part of what President Marcos labelled a “railway renaissance”.

“San Miguel has a lot of projects that help the development of the Philippines,” says Janno Quinto, project manager at station six in Quezon City, where construction is almost complete. Quinto, who is dressed in an obligatory high-vis vest and hard hat, recently joined from a rival toll-road company to work on elevated structures. The 29-year-old engineer stands on an empty, unfinished platform, pointing out the electrified third rail – another first. “Transportation is the way to our development,” he says.

A seasonal typhoon has just passed by Metro Manila, cancelling flights and causing flooding. San Miguel has been dredging rivers to facilitate drainage and Ang shares his opinion on what structural improvements are required to weather future storms – both natural and manmade. The patriotic Filipino is fully invested in the country’s disaster resilience and the decisive leadership he demonstrated during the coronavirus pandemic – distributing food, medical assistance and other aid – even led to calls for him to run for president in 2022. “If I become a famous politician for six years, what’s the good of that?” he says, dismissing the idea. “I will have divested all of my shares in my company and made thousands of enemies.”

RSA, as he is known to colleagues, can achieve more by sticking to what he’s good at. What’s his best deal to date? NAIA, he says, without hesitation. “We’ve been given the opportunity to improve the main gateway to the Philippines,” adds Ang, who turned 70 this year. It’s a surprising choice given that the commercial terms have been pilloried in the business pages for, oddly enough, being overly generous. A consortium in which San Miguel owns a stake won the NAIA public tender in 2022 with a bid that will earn the government $20bn (€18.5bn) and a 60 per cent cut of profits. Characteristically confident, Ang believes that he can’t lose. After all, what’s good for the Philippines is ultimately good for San Miguel.

Re-engineering NAIA is part of a slate of major infrastructure projects that Ang wants to see completed over the next three to five years before handing the San Miguel reins over to his eldest son, John Paul. Building an entirely new airport to serve the capital is unquestionably the jewel in his crown and the $7bn (€6.5bn) investment will almost certainly define Ang’s legacy. 

The New Manila International Airport, as it is currently known, is in Bulacan, a province immediately north of Metro Manila. Site preparation was completed this year and construction will soon get under way. Once up and running, three or four years from now, Bulacan will become Metro Manila’s equivalent to Incheon in Seoul or Narita in Tokyo, while NAIA will be a Gimpo or Haneda. “There is no compromise in our new airport. It will be ideal,” says Ang, while scoring all of Asia’s major airports, from an engineering rather than tourism perspective. “Four parallel runways with 2km separation, good for 100 to 200 million passengers a year and a 30-minute drive or train journey to anywhere in Metro Manila.”

It’s a case of better late than never. During the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s, when most developed Asian capitals were building a second airport, consecutive administrations in the Philippines dithered. Southeast Asia’s fourth-largest economy is now 30 years behind many of its peers and the aviation industry’s shortcomings are emblematic of a broader infrastructure deficit.

Closing this gap has been a flagship policy of the past three presidents. In any democracy, though, forming policy is one thing and implementing it is quite another. Ang first pitched his new airport to president Benigno Aquino III in 2012. Aquino’s successor, Rodrigo Duterte, finally approved it in 2018. The straight-talking CEO has little to gain, though, from picking sides or apportioning blame. All governments are basically the same from his perspective and he must work with whoever occupies the Malacañang Palace – the Filipino White House.

Is Ang betting his company on aviation? The new airport must attract about 36.5 million passengers to break even, he says, while NAIA will reach almost 50 million this year. “There is a risk but we have to take it,” he adds, revealing the missed opportunities that motivate him more than any fear of failure. By his own count, he has walked away from five potential investments that have “cost” the company a whopping $100bn (€92.7bn) – and Ang countless hours of sleep. “My greatest mistake is not to be more aggressive,” he says. “You win some, you lose some.”

Towards the end of the decade, once San Miguel’s airports, toll roads and railway projects are complete, its visionary CEO envisages vehicular traffic and investment dollars beginning to flow from the national capital, home to most of the economic activity, to the north of the Philippines’ largest island, Luzon, where land is cheap. Traffic in Metro Manila will ease, seasonal flooding will be less severe and the country will be better placed to attract Thailand’s tourism numbers and compete for the foreign direct investment typically funnelled into Vietnam.

Metro Manila’s reputation for violence will be the last remaining sticking point – no amount of concrete can cover up international headlines about kidnappings, drug wars and extrajudicial killings. This bad publicity will have to change, Ang says, if the Philippines is going to attract the likes of Samsung and Taiwan Semiconductor. His passionate monologue has the makings of a future stump speech delivered to a crowd of potential voters. President Ang in 2028? “Politics is not me,” he says, definitively. “I’m happy now that I’m able to prepare San Miguel’s succession plan, see the company continue to do well and be able to help the community. Mission accomplished.”

Affairs round up: Icebreaking in the Arctic, Rwanda’s aviation ambitions and 58 Polish “wolverines”

Arctic sea ice might be shrinking but it still inhibits maritime navigation. Seven Nato members have territory in the northern polar region but their icebreaking capabilities lag behind those of Russia and China. The alliance is now trying to close the gap. On the sidelines at July’s Nato summit in Washington, the governments of the US, Finland and Canada signed the Icebreaker Collaboration Effort (or Ice Pact). The three nations agreed to share information, pursue workforce development and encourage allies to buy more icebreakers.

The announcement came at a crucial moment for the US. New vessels to support the Coast Guard’s two ageing diesel-powered icebreakers were supposed to be ready this year but delays and cost overruns have pushed their delivery to 2029 at the earliest. Shipyards in Mississippi are struggling with the task but US law prohibits the purchase of foreign-made vessels.

“We haven’t built a large icebreaker in the US in decades and specialised skills, such as high-end welding, have atrophied,” Rebecca Pincus, director of the Wilson Center Polar Institute, tells Monocle. But Finnish shipbuilders could come to the rescue, as the pact clears the way for Helsinki to send some technical assistance. “Finland is the world’s leading design-and-build country for icebreakers,” says Pincus. 

As for the third Ice Pact partner? In March, Canada signed a contract with Québec-based shipbuilder Davie, which bought Helsinki shipyard dny Finland Oy in November 2023, for six new icebreakers for the country’s coast guard.

Mid-latitude countries are increasingly showing up at Arctic forums too but the primary beneficiary will be the US, where the pact was signed. “The US is the Arctic ally that’s furthest behind,” says Pincus. “We have the most catching up to do.”

Anura Kumara Dissanayake
MP and presidential candidate

The leader of Sri Lanka’s left-wing National People’s Power (NPP) coalition, Anura Kumara Dissanayake, is the frontrunner in the country’s presidential election, which will be held on 21 September. Here, monocle speaks to him in Colombo.

What does the NPP offer Sri Lanka?
Both the main opposition and the ruling party follow the same neoliberal economic model. Today, sadly, we are a bankrupt nation. We have an external debt of €34bn, poverty has increased and the price of essential goods has skyrocketed. Our priority is to save the country from this economic crisis.

What about foreign policy?
There are many power camps within a multipolar system. We won’t be a competitor in that geopolitical fight, nor will we be aligned to any party. We don’t want to be sandwiched, especially between China and India. Both countries are valued friends and, under an NPP government, we expect them to become close partners. We also want to maintain relations with the EU, the Middle East and Africa.

You won 3.16 per cent of the vote in 2019. Now you’re polling at about 40 per cent. What has changed?
In the past, people wanted us to be the opposition. Now they want us to run the country. They have realised that the two main parties rule together. Their economic policies and governance structures are the same.

Andrew Mueller on winners and losers

During an election, the focus is normally on what the contenders will do if they win. Nobody pays much attention to the loser because their response is taken for granted: a graceful concession, followed by retirement to write a vindictive memoir, or else a regroup with a view to having another crack at it next time. The 2024 US presidential election, bizarre in many respects, is also unusual in that the loser might end up commanding centre stage – especially if it happens to be Donald Trump.

We have some idea of what he might do. Perhaps, as he did last time, he’ll confect fantasies about a rigged election and have a tantrum. That might not prompt another sacking of the Capitol – the stiff sentences imposed on hundreds of participants in the attempted putsch of 6 January 2021 will hopefully have a deterrent effect. 

But a defeated Trump would likely be more desperate than he was back then. By the 2028 presidential election, he will be 82 and possibly in prison. It doesn’t require much imagination to foresee Trump encouraging another attempted coup d’état, especially if the Republicans have sufficient numbers in the House and Senate to delay or refuse the result’s certification (in 2021, 139 Republican congresspeople refused to acknowledge Joe Biden’s victory, as did eight of the party’s senators). Trump could even stage a rival inauguration, sworn in by one of his plants on the Supreme Court (or Hulk Hogan).

It is easier to anticipate a defeated Kamala Harris’s actions. As divided as the Democrats traditionally are, they remain keen on democracy. Even in the event of a cliffhanger like the 2000 presidential election, which came down to just 537 votes out of nearly six million cast in Florida, Harris would accept the result. That would be the Democrats’ short-term response. The longer-term one would need to be to ensure that the US actually has subsequent elections.

Andrew Mueller is the host of ‘The Foreign Desk’ on Monocle Radio.

Aiming for the skies
With hefty financial support from Qatar, Rwanda is hoping to become a new African aviation hub. Qatar Airways (QA) is the majority shareholder in an airport under construction near Kigali, Rwanda’s capital. Expected to open in 2027, it will be QA’s main base in Africa. Betting on the country’s strategic position at the heart of the continent, the airline is also finalising a deal in which it will take a 49 per cent stake in its flag carrier, RwandAir.

Africa’s population and economy are projected to grow rapidly over the coming decades. Though the continent currently only accounts for about 2 per cent of global air traffic, it is among the world’s fastest- growing aviation markets. According to analysis by Boeing, passenger numbers will more than quadruple in the next 20 years. However, flying from one African capital to another still too often requires at least one layover, usually in the Gulf, Cairo or even Paris. 

So far, only Ethiopia’s capital, Addis Ababa, has succeeded in becoming a hub for both passengers and cargo on the continent. A focus on connecting regional destinations and joining Star Alliance, the world’s first and largest airline partnership, have helped Ethiopian Airlines to become one of Africa’s most profitable flag carriers.

Landlocked Rwanda is now seeking to emulate and even surpass that success by making Kigali a global hub on a par with Doha, Singapore or Atlanta. That would be a major coup for the country’s president, Paul Kagame, who has been trying for years to draw foreign investment to the city with limited success. His aviation plan will depend heavily on attempts to liberalise travel regulations within Africa. Thirty-seven countries are currently signed up to the Single African Air Transport Market, an African Union initiative intended to bring down costs and barriers. If this plan takes off, the sky’s the limit.

Naveena Kottoor is Monocle’s Nairobi correspondent.

In the basket: 58 Rosomak armoured personnel carriers
Who’s buying: Poland
Who’s selling: Poland
Price: €610m
Delivery date: 2027

This is a conspicuous vote of confidence in the domestically built Rosomak (whose name means “wolverine”). Poland’s army already fields some 800 of these eight-wheeled vehicles, a variation on the amv built by Finland’s Patria. Rosomaks have carried Polish troops serving in Afghanistan and Ukrainian troops defending Ukraine; Poland has sent 200 of them to its neighbour. 

The order is part of a vast enlargement of the country’s military. Its Armament Agency has confirmed orders worth €9.4bn in 2024 and Poland expects to spend 5 per cent of its GDP on defence by next year, which would make it Europe’s highest military spender per capita. The Rosomak’s ZSSW-30 remote-controlled turret might help Warsaw pay for some of this. It has reportedly piqued the interest of South Korea, which has recently become a major supplier of tanks, artillery and aircraft to Poland.

Agenda: The death of in-flight entertainment, roadtrips on paper and the cultural industrial revolution.

Smartphones are revolutionising in-flight entertainment. Paul Charles ponders what will come next.

More than 100 years since 11 passengers in an Aeromarine Airways plane excitedly watched the first in-flight movie – a short promotional film called Howdy Chicago – are we witnessing the end of this travel tradition? The introduction of wi-fi on planes has made staying connected easier than ever, albeit with pesky outages, depending on your route (for some reason, the signal always drops over the Bay of Biscay, off the west coast of France). Today most people board clutching their mobile device, onto which they have downloaded their favourite films and TV shows. 

There’s a cost factor for airlines to consider. Onboard monitors are expensive to maintain and are often so unreliable that they periodically need to be reset by cabin crew. Turkish Airlines will soon provide free wi-fi to all passengers on every flight. Finnair, British Airways and Singapore Airlines now offer free messaging for travellers if they sign up for their respective loyalty schemes. This encourages those onboard to use their own devices for the duration of the flight, rather than rely on the larger screens installed on the plane.

In the race to be as sustainable as possible, companies are also seeking to reduce aircraft weight. By reducing the size of in-flight monitors or removing them entirely, airlines can ensure that their planes weigh less and don’t need as much fuel. As in years gone by, the aircraft of the future might have tiny monitors overhead, used to display cabin safety messages or maps showing where you are and at what height. In-flight entertainment will be provided by you, the passenger, who will be left to your own devices.

Paul Charles is the CEO of luxury travel consultancy The PC Agency and a former director of Virgin Atlantic.

Setting the stage:

London-based events company Broadwick Live is behind some of the UK’s most ambitious cultural spots, including Drumsheds, an enormous venue inside a former Ikea building in the capital’s Upper Lea Valley area. Many of its spaces have an industrial past and its latest location is no exception: New York’s Brooklyn Storehouse is a shipbuilding site on the Navy Yard industrial complex.

Once a military dockyard, the building has been used for civil shipping and boat repairs for the past 50 years. “It belongs to New York’s Economic Development Corporation, which has a clear mandate to stimulate industrial jobs,” says Simeon Aldred, Broadwick Live’s director of strategy. “We believe that we can create a new cultural industrial revolution, generating employment and socioeconomic change. Shipyards, power stations, warehouses – these buildings are often loved by the community, so developers are no longer commissioned to knock things down.”

For Broadwick Live, which runs 23 venues in the UK, expansion into the US felt like a natural next step. The availability of characterful (and gigantic) properties was another factor. “New York still has swaths of amazing industrial spaces that can be reused,” says Aldred. Brooklyn Storehouse will have a mixed schedule that spans electronic gigs, fashion shows and theatre performances. “We have to make bold strides. Culture is being squeezed out of cities in the rush to build cheap housing. We want to do something to redress that.”
brooklynstorehouse.com

Taylor Bruce
Editor in chief, Wildsam

Taylor Bruce is the editor in chief of Wildsam, an Austin-based travel brand known for its Field Guides. Wildsam has now launched a magazine that will publish 12 issues a year. Here, Bruce tells Monocle about his fondest travel memories, his plans for the magazine and where’s next on his bucket list.

Why do you love roadtrips?
Some of my favourite memories are of travelling through national parks or from Austin, Texas, to Colorado and back. It’s a rite of passage: for young adults in the US, driving from coast to coast is one of life’s most exciting experiences. Roadtrips are also an important part of our heritage. Something about the expanse of our landscape captivates the imagination. 

What has been the reaction to Wildsam’s move into magazines?
It has been great. There has been an upswell of magazines leaning into specific niches. We’re embracing the unique things that go hand in hand with roadtrips: recreational vehicles, back roads and scenic routes, and visiting small businesses along the way.

Which part of the US are you most excited to explore?
We’re focused on the West Coast now, looking at the redwoods in our national and state parks. Also, any region that touches the Great Lakes, such as Minnesota or Wisconsin, which are real hidden gems.

How the Ford Tourneo is becoming the taxi of choice in Europe

Looking for a vehicle to shuttle you between fashion shows at Pitti Uomo in Florence? Or are you on the hunt for a driver to whisk you around Milan during Salone del Mobile next year? If so, you might find yourself buckled into a Ford Tourneo Custom. The 2024 edition of the smart-looking people-mover that can carry up to nine passengers is quietly becoming the executive car service’s vehicle of choice in Italy.

“It’s an elegant yet comfortable car to drive,” says Stefano Ciappi, who Monocle trails for a morning on the road in Florence, where he’s taking clients to the airport or between events in his newly minted Tourneo Custom. Ciappi, who runs chauffeur business Chianti Drive, which services central Tuscany, bought the vehicle earlier this summer. The driver’s preference for the US brand is unusual in a sector where the ubiquitous Mercedes Benz V-Class people-mover currently reigns supreme – but Ciappi says that’s likely to change. “The Tourneo Custom is going to be really popular in the chauffeur and taxi industry in Italy,” he says. “I already have several taxi-driver colleagues trying it. They’re satisfied with it because it’s comfortable for both the driver and the passengers. It’s absolutely on the way to being a success.”

The Tourneo Custom has been in production since 2012 but has had a dramatic overhaul for 2024, which has generated a renewed interest in the vehicle. There are sleek new headlights and a refined front grille but the game-changing component has been the introduction of a seating mechanism that allows for all nine seats to slide and rotate within the cabin. It’s a move that allows seating layouts to change to suit the needs of the customer: rows of three chairs can be turned to face each other, creating a “conference” configuration; or they can be twisted to face the same direction for a more solitary ride. There has also been a significant increase in storage space at the rear of the vehicle (handy if you made some purchases at Pitti Uomo), plus a generous touchscreen for the driver makes navigation a breeze.

In short, Ford might just be on to a winning concept – and it seems that the company knows it. “Every passenger can enjoy the best seat in the house,” said Ford Europe’s vehicle line director, Pete Reyes, at the launch of the Tourneo Custom. “The vehicle has been transformed from top to bottom, combining the comfort and quality of a luxury car with outstanding space and practicality.” It’s a hype that the vehicle is living up to – and the reason why you’ll be hoping that one picks you up from Peretola or Linate next time you’re in town.

Is neutrality coming to an end as politicians look to put Thailand back on the map?

Inside the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) in Bangkok, Thailand’s top diplomats are gathered in the grand ceremonial hall, known as Vithes Samosorn, to discuss a forthcoming multilateral summit. Chair of the meeting, foreign minister Maris Sangiampongsa, begins by setting out the government’s top objectives to the agencies in attendance, including national intelligence, aviation, police and City Hall. Uniformed officers from each of the armed forces sit together on the U-shaped table. “We want to put Thailand back on the world radar,” says Sangiampongsa, a 66-year-old career diplomat-turned-politician who joined the cabinet in May. “Every agency has a big role to play in that mission.”  

The Bay of Bengal Initiative for Multi-Sectoral Technical and Economic Co-operation (BIMSTEC) is one of the more esoteric acronyms on the international relations calendar. India’s membership gives the club of mainly south Asian countries economic heft and its prime minister, Narendra Modi, is expected in Bangkok on 4 September. For the hosts, welcoming an in-demand foreign statesmen to the Thai capital provides a rare opportunity for positive international coverage – as long as the myriad protocols, tricky logistics and media messaging all run smoothly. 

Thai diplomats are trained on how to greet visiting dignitaries (even how to kiss) but no amount of classroom teaching can prepare for the real thing and there are plenty of potential pitfalls, from the Bangkok traffic to the arrival of unwanted guests. Vital as bilateral relations are with Myanmar, a neighbour and fellow BIMSTEC member state, the reprehensible military junta clinging on to power in Naypyidaw is a constant thorn in Thailand’s side at a time when Bangkok is trying to move beyond its own coup d’état. Elections last year ushered in the first civilian-led government since the Thai military seized power in 2014. The resulting coalition, an unlikely patchwork, has turned a page on what some foreign-policy veterans have called a “lost decade” for Thai diplomacy; former ambassadors posted to London and Washington under the military government talk about prioritising the mending of ties rather than advancing national interests. With democracy back in the ascendancy, for the time being at least, Thailand is standing taller on the world stage and eager to contribute. 

At last year’s UN General Assembly, Thailand’s 30th prime minister, Srettha Thavisin, used his maiden speech to recommit to “proactive” diplomacy. His public riposte to widespread criticism of Thailand’s passive diplomacy under the generals was also a rallying cry for a country anxiously watching Vietnam’s rise on all fronts. The opportunity to make a positive contribution has brought renewed purpose to a downtrodden MFA along with some fresh faces at both the top and bottom of the organisation. A record number of new diplomats joined the service this year, bringing a much-needed injection of youthful energy, progressive views and internationalism. 

The return of a peace-loving nation that wants to be friends with everyone comes at a critical time. The contest between the US and China is already dominating this century and the potential flashpoints continue to multiply. As the two superpowers cajole smaller nations to choose sides, the number of honest brokers is remarkably small. The likes of India and Vietnam are well positioned to profit from either country but no other nation in Asia comes to the table with Thailand’s predisposition for talks over tanks or a clean slate, free from colonial history or agenda. Benjamin Zawacki, a Bangkok-based geopolitical analyst, calls it a “land without ideology”. Bangkok is the oldest of Washington’s five treaty allies in Asia and the only one without a territorial dispute or major historical squabble with China – Thailand’s largest trading partner after the US. Earlier this year, Bangkok hosted a sit-down between China’s foreign-affairs chief, Wang Yi, and his US counterpart, Jake Sullivan. There is a willingness to provide more “good offices” and the Thai capital is already home to the UN’s regional headquarters. 

Foreign minister Sangiampongsa has spoken publicly of Thailand being “a bridge that helps create a peaceful environment” between the superpowers and he repeats this message at a closed-door BIMSTEC meeting. “You all follow geopolitics,” he tells the room. “Many countries are looking to Thailand and our role in addressing these challenges.”

Monocle meets Sangiampongsa on the top floor of the MFA. A selection of newspapers are spread out on a table and a treadmill sits idle in the corner. A keen runner, he had intended to run 10km a day – wishful thinking. Since being called out of semi-retirement to take the globetrotting job, his feet have barely touched the ground. US secretary of state Antony Blinken recently called to say “hey” and, a few days earlier, Sangiampongsa travelled to Beijing at the invitation of Wang. According to the minister, Bangkok’s bridging role between the superpowers could extend to an ever-growing list of inter-governmental groupings and exclusive groups, such as the OECD and Brics. Thai diplomats feel at home in multilateral arenas and the country’s geographical location – such an important part of its success to date – represents a physical connection between the strategically important Indian and Pacific oceans. 

Thailand’s approach to international affairs is famously flexible. Territory, rights, names and principles have all been sacrificed in the name of Thai sovereignty – a rare distinction in the region. “During colonial times, Siam’s supreme objective was independence,” says Pisanu Suvanajata, Thailand’s ambassador to the UK from 2016 until 2022. “We had flexibility in our diplomacy to achieve that goal.” Peak contortionism happened in the middle of the 20th century, when Bangkok inked a treaty with the invading Japanese during the Second World War before adroitly emerging on the winning side under the patronage of the US and becoming one of Washington’s staunchest allies (a client state, say some) during anti-communist wars in Korea and Vietnam. This act of bending and adapting to the prevailing winds came to be known as bamboo diplomacy, though few practitioners believe that it accurately reflects events this century. By the end of the Cold War, when the US had pulled out its troops, Thailand had made peace with its neighbours and was pursuing an independent, friends-with-everyone foreign policy.  

When it comes to Thai diplomacy, most attention is fixed on Bangkok’s ability to balance US security with Chinese trade, and less on its other strategy to seek strength in numbers (or strength in diversity, as the Thais put it). The formation of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Asean) is considered a high point for Thai diplomacy. Signed in Bangkok in 1967, it was Thailand’s former foreign minister, Thanat Khoman, who jetted between Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines and Singapore to convince these nations to make peace. The subsequent admittance of Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia, as part of a broader Thai initiative to turn battlefields into marketplaces, transformed a loose, anti-communist league into a vast free-trade zone and made Thailand less beholden to either superpower. After BIMSTEC in 1997, Thailand founded the Asia Co-operation Dialogue in 2002 – a continent-wide gabfest that returns to Bangkok next year.

Elephant diplomacy could be a more fitting term for modern times. These clever, gregarious and benign creatures herd in large family groups, have no natural enemies and are known to socialise across species. (The Thai monarchy has also been known to gift elephants to other countries.) Suvanajata has a more fluid perspective. “Thai diplomacy has changed,” he says. “It’s no longer bending with the wind; we are like water that can penetrate into anything or anywhere we want.”

Two recent examples of Thai diplomacy have stirred plenty of academic debate. At Switzerland’s first Ukraine peace summit in June, Thailand sent a high-level representative but ultimately declined to sign the final communiqué. Some applauded Bangkok for turning up (something that it might not have done under the military government) and contributing to a discussion on food security (a topic it knows something about). Analyst Tita Sanglee saw these confusing signals as evidence of a third way between passive and proactive. Thailand wants to be an active participant in resolving issues without being forced to take sides; a Switzerland of Asia. Many others, meanwhile, deplored the fence-sitting and chronic fear of causing offence. 

A second, equally perplexing strategy will play out over the next few months and years. Officials at the MFA have been instructed to apply to join the OECD and Brics, two very different clubs – one a Western-dominated group of rich countries and the other an increasingly anti-Western alternative. From the Thai perspective, joining these two multilateral organisations will provide a boost to trade and investment, and raise the country’s international stature – the government’s top two foreign-policy objectives. 

It’s almost certainly a political decision, and foreign correspondents are not the only ones scratching their heads. Strong criticism is coming from inside the tent. Kasit Piromya, a former Thai foreign minister and career diplomat, calls the attempt to join Brics “idiotic” and “an absurdity”. A former ambassador to the US and Russia, Piromya came of age during the Cold War when young diplomats fighting the communists knew where they stood. “Brics is an institution that wants to have conflict and confrontation with the G7 and yet we are a partner with all seven of them,” he tells Monocle from his home in Bangkok. 

Former ambassador Kobsak Chutikul, another foreign-affairs grandee, sees the decision to join the OECD and Brics as a reaction to the fracturing of Asean caused by Myanmar’s civil war and the failure to deal with the multi-polar world. “Individual Asean countries are choosing their own path – stay neutral, go with China, or go with the West,” he says. “The intuitive reaction of the Thais is to hedge our bets and join everybody.” Both men share the same frustration with Thailand’s pragmatic, case-by-case approach to global events. At a time when the geopolitical winds are blowing in every direction, they would like to see Thailand’s foreign-policy brains come up with a genuine strategy for navigating superpower competition. Under the previous government, the MFA created a 20-year “five Ss” masterplan (security, sustainability, standard, status and synergy) but it reads like a marketing deck and no serving diplomat brings it up during hours of discussion. But publishing a US-style foreign-policy white paper is just not in the Thai tradition, as they know full well. Chutikul describes the foreign ministry’s flexible DNA as “don’t take a position if you don’t have to, don’t say much, prefer quiet diplomacy”.  

A book about Tej Bunnag, another former diplomat, published in 2021, comes closest to a contemporary account in print. The paperback, which goes through Bunnag’s experience of Thailand’s intuitive diplomacy in a conversational question-and-answer format, is handed to new recruits to the foreign service. A largely historical account and a quick read, big questions about the future go unanswered. Chief among them, Thailand’s response to an actual superpower conflict. Regional security analyst Zawacki wonders whether the question is even being asked inside the MFA.  “Being friends with everyone is the right policy to have until something kicks off but you had better have a back-up plan for when things get hot,” Zawacki, author of Thailand: Shifting Ground Between the US and a Rising China, tells Monocle. “If you haven’t got a plan in place when that time comes, and you haven’t already sent overtures to the relevant country, a choice will be made for you.” 

Journalists covering foreign affairs will often refer to the MFA by its former home, Saranrom Palace – a nod to when Thailand’s international relations were handled by the royal family. Devawongse Varoprakar, a worldly prince who is considered the father of Thai diplomacy, modernised the ministry in the late 19th century along Western lines, securing a standalone address across the road from the Grand Palace. The MFA moved to a purpose-built complex in the Ratchathewi district in the 1990s. Other than the Varoprakar statue standing guard at the official entrance and a replica gilded throne outside the ceremonial hall, there’s remarkably little majesty and regalia on display. Saranrom Palace’s top emissaries these days are professional civil servants rather than princes, and the permanent secretary of the MFA is considered Thailand’s highest-ranking diplomatic officer. Eksiri Pintaruchi took over the role in January, 30 years after the Georgetown University graduate entered the foreign service. “We need to ensure that our advice and concerns are taken into account at the policy level so that politicians can make an informed decision,” she says, describing her new role as a link between the ministry and the government. “Whether they listen or not is up to them.” 

Pintaruchi’s first few months in office were dominated by the Department of South Asian, Middle East and African Affairs, one of 12 departments that report to her. Thai agricultural workers in Israel were the largest foreign nationality taken hostage by Hamas on 7 October 2023 and a handful have yet to be released. Closer to home, China’s territorial standoff with the Philippines in the South China Sea has caused much hand-wringing among her Asean counterparts. “We face challenging times, and these conflicts, confrontations and uncertainties affect not only economic growth but peace and stability across the globe,” she says. The most dangerous times in her career? Pintaruchi nods. Her mild manner and natural restraint make her informed views on world affairs all the more striking. “The world has become more fragmented and divided,” she says. “For countries like us to survive, we need to join hands with countries with similar concerns to make sure that the rule of law and rules-based international systems stand firm.”

Pintaruchi must achieve all of this with a meagre THB8.8bn (€230m) annual budget and a remarkably small team for a country with more than 60 million people and a top-30 economy. Thailand employs some 1,500 diplomats and diplomatic staff, split between headquarters and 98 (soon to be 99) overseas missions. As the foreign minister admits, such limited manpower leaves little time for the type of “outside the box” thinking that today’s complex geopolitical situation requires. 

On the day that Pintaruchi meets Monocle, she has spent her morning on management duties, screening candidates for promotion to first secretary. The foreign service has an elite reputation, and many of its high-fliers were educated at top universities in the US, UK, Australia, Japan or India. The ministry has been actively recruiting graduates from outside political science but architects seeking a change of career must still pass a rigorous entry examination that’s separate to the regular civil-servant test. Out of 3,000 applicants for this year’s intake, just 51 made it on to the two-month training course (see box) – a record high in recent years.  

Thailand’s training academy for diplomats, the lofty-sounding Devawongse Varopakarn Institute of Foreign Affairs (DVIFA), occupies a far less grand corner of a huge government complex in northern Bangkok. dvifa covers a diplomat’s entire career, from entry exams to retirement planning on return to civilian life.

During Monocle’s visit, a group of 16 mid-level envoys, known in the trade as minister- counsellors, are receiving their final classroom- based instructions before being posted to Japan, China, Germany and Australia, among other places, where some will become deputy heads of mission. Guest speaker Pisan Manawapat, a former ambassador to the US, has been invited to give a lecture on deglobalisation. “We have always been able to chart our own course,” says Manawapat, flipping through a presentation entitled, ‘The World in Crisis’. “We are not a small country,” he says. “Politicians only say that because it fits into the narrative that we want to be neutral and friends with everyone. I don’t want to see our diplomacy conducted in that way.”

Manawapat was Thailand’s man in Washington when Donald Trump took over from Barack Obama. His 90-minute treatise on international relations includes anecdotes about bypassing the Trump-era State Department and a few digs at Western double standards over human rights in India and democracy in Vietnam. The seasoned diplomat urges his classroom to read the news voraciously and analyse it in a global context, so that they can influence media coverage and be part of the 10 or 20 per cent of diplomats who send useful cables back to Bangkok. “Make the connection beyond the country you are posted to,” he says, sharing why he thinks the application to join Brics could be in Thailand’s national interests. 

Before the class of future ambassadors breaks for coffee and a session on embassy accounting, Manawapat ends his rallying cry with a reminder of Thailand’s proud history and a few housekeeping tips, mostly flag-related (bigger is better; always keep a dozen or so spares in the store cupboard). “Ask yourselves what you want to accomplish and always leave the embassy in a better shape than when you arrived,” he says. Setting clear objectives that can be flexibly obtained: Thailand’s diplomatic mantra for the ages.

Flinc is the Swiss bike brand inspired by ET and built for urban life

Markus Freitag’s passion for pedals was first ignited in 1982 while watching Steven Spielberg’s ET. Some 40 years later, the Zürich-born entrepreneur has created a Spielberg-inspired bicycle brand that’s perfect for nipping around his hometown. Called Flinc, its namesake model is a svelte two-wheeler that is as compact as an urban minibike, as capacious as a cargo bike and as sturdy as ET’s BMX. “Our niche is an easily manoeuvrable model with a simple but sophisticated luggage system,” says Freitag. 

In 1993, Markus and his brother, Daniel, launched Freitag, a brand that produces bags designed for cyclists, so launching a bike brand made complete sense. “Flinc is the bike I would love to have had on my doorstep all my life,” says Freitag, who reinvested his profits from the bag brand to launch the bike in April.

Though the Danes had pioneered the cargo bike in the 1980s, today the “Made in Switzerland” label is a hallmark of quality cycling products across the globe. Yet Zürich has not fully realised its potential as a cycling city. “The streets are cramped due to the tram system and we lack cycle lanes that would allow bikes to play a supporting role in this urban context,” says Freitag. The Flinc is a product of these surroundings, designed to comfortably navigate the narrow streets.

And Freitag’s brand might just be onto something: record numbers of commuters here are ditching the car for the bike. Pro Velo, a network of regional bike associations, saw a 21 per cent increase in participants in its Cycle to Work campaign when compared to 2022. This uptick is reflected in industry growth. In 2024 the Swiss bike sector is predicted to be worth €720m, while Denmark’s lags behind at €490m. “Bike ownership here has grown exponentially since the pandemic,” says frame builder Wim Kolb, who constructed the first Flinc prototype in 2020. “In Zürich, residents are interested in zero-emission alternatives and have the disposable income to be able to invest in quality,” he says. “The infrastructure needs to catch up to allow the cargo bike to flourish.” 

The Flinc – meaning “nimble” in Swiss-German – is made from a special steel alloy. The compact design weighs 16kg, about a third of the weight of the average cargo bike. “We have deliberately not reinvented the bicycle,” says Freitag. Instead, high-quality, low-maintenance components were chosen, which complement a tried-and-trusted diamond-shaped frame. When Monocle takes the Flinc for a spin, the pedalling feels effortless thanks to the smooth tread of the 20-inch tyres created by German manufacturer Schwalbe. All of these factors, says Freitag, mean that it is not necessary to power the bike with electricity. “The Flinc was designed for Zürich’s flat pavements.”

But Flinc isn’t just a brand; it’s also about community. On Thursday evenings, cyclists convene at the company’s HQ for a beer, a flick through its smart selection of cycling magazines and, should they choose, a test ride of the bike. Getting Zürich’s residents in the saddle requires both infrastructure and curiosity – the Flinc has certainly set the wheels in motion.
flinccycles.com

Meet the measured French society working to preserve the art form of poetry

Step into Toulouse’s Hôtel d’Assézat and you will find the oldest literary society in Europe. The former aristocratic residence, with its mouldings, bay windows and creaky floors, is where the Académie preserves and fosters the art of poetry written in French and in Occitan, the regional language spoken in the south of France, Monaco and parts of Italy. 

The first records of this quintessentially  Toulousian organisation date back to 1323, when seven minstrels were said to have competed against each other with their best verses. The winner was awarded a violet made from gold, thus the tradition of the jeux floraux (poetry contests) was born. 

“Our goal is to reward the best poets and encourage those who we believe are the future of this art form,” says Philippe Dazet-Brun, permanent secretary of the society since 2016. Dazet-Brun is a historian by trade; his subjects are France’s interwar period and the novelist and critic François Mauriac. But he nurtured his love of poetry in parallel to his career and was invited to join the 40-member line-up of the Académie in 2009.

He now works to discover new talent through competitions and prizes that the Académie organises throughout the year in order to cultivate an interest in poetry in younger generations. “We often go to schools to talk about poetry,” he says. “Students talk to poets and write their own pieces, which makes the genre come alive. Poets are suddenly more than just dead people in their books.”

The institution recently celebrated its 700th birthday, an occasion marked with the publication of a book retracing the history of the jeux floraux, a concert by the National Orchestra of the Toulouse Capitole and, most of all, lots of poetry. The overwhelmingly positive reception from the public was an encouraging sign for the members of the Académie, who hope to see the art form reclaim its spot in the Toulousian cultural scene. 

“Poetry is not always taught in the most dynamic way,” says Dazet-Brun. “But there are things you can express through poetry that you simply cannot say in any other way.”

Steering giants through Seattle’s waters at Puget Sound

A westerly wind ushers in the cold Pacific air, prompting Eric Klapperich to zip up his dark-blue Helly Hansen jacket. He’s warding off the early evening chill at Port Angeles Pilot Station, a maritime hub northwest of Seattle and home of the Puget Sound Pilots, an association of 56 professional piloting experts. Here, he works as a maritime pilot, boarding cargo ships, oil tankers and cruise liners to captain them through the final stretches of their journey, negotiating the labyrinthine waterways of Puget Sound to make it to the major US ports of Seattle and Tacoma.

The Puget Sound pilots’ many years in the profession provide them with knowledge of winds, tides, currents and other navigational hazards to help steer ships that are essential to maritime commerce. To pass their licensing exam, they must memorise 25 marine charts, down to the buoy, covering more than 2,000 sq km of water. “It’s the pinnacle of a maritime career,” says Klapperich, a former tugboat operator. “It comes with responsibility and a mission to protect the state [Washington], people and the environment.”

Monocle dons a life jacket and joins Klapperich and another pilot, Michael Anthony, as they prepare to steer Liberty Pride, a car carrier, to safe passage. It’s a 10-minute ride out to the ship in a smaller boat, which whips over swells before eventually manoeuvring alongside the hulking vessel. A ladder is dangled off the side and we grip the rope without looking down until we’re safely on board. Captain Rio Gordon welcomes the pilots aboard his vessel, which has just ferried 4,500 cars from South Korea. Anthony posts himself in the captain’s chair with a cup of tea. He uses a tablet to study the shipping lanes, which are marked on a digital map but are invisible when staring out at the water. During the five-hour inbound journey to Tacoma, he monitors boat traffic, makes radio calls to other ships and vessel control, and requests course changes at regular intervals.

While Anthony has digital navigation tools at his disposal, the pilot relies on his decades of experience in the Puget Sound to make decisions. It’s a knowledge that has been passed down through the cohorts of pilots who have overseen this vast stretch of water since 1935. “Above all, you need an eye for movement,” says Anthony. That visual acumen applies as much to overtaking a barge in open water as it does to finessing the final few metres to bring the ship into port, an excruciating and high-stakes process. Failure to calculate correctly can be disastrous: in December 2019, liquid-gas tanker Levant crashed into a dock near Ferndale, resulting in €7.6m worth of damage due to a Puget Sound pilot error.

Luckily tonight’s journey is smooth. But during high winds, pilots insist on hiring additional tugs or stopping at an anchorage to wait out bad weather. Such requests eat into a vessel operator’s profits but the pilot’s mandate is safety, not money. Arriving into the waters near Seattle, Liberty Pride ties up without incident. “It’s the greatest job in the world,” says Anthony. “You get to valet park huge ships.”

Interview: Lorenzo Zurzolo on preparing for international recognition

Lorenzo Zurzolo is optimistic that Italian cinema is entering a new golden age. The Rome-born actor has just come off the set of his latest TV series, which chronicles the early political career of Benito Mussolini. What has made him so hopeful isn’t his character in the show – after all, he portrays a fascist leader called Italo Balbo – but the time that he has spent filming at Rome’s Cinecittà, Europe’s largest and longest-operating film studio. The experience has left him with the sense that the country is finally reclaiming its status as a global filmmaking hub. “The place is buzzing with activity,” he says, noting that international stars such as Welsh actor Anthony Hopkins and US actor-producer Denzel Washington were working there at the same time.

In the 20th century, Italy’s film industry gave the world masters such as Bernardo Bertolucci, Federico Fellini and Roberto Rossellini but it initially failed to carry this prestige into the 21st. The industry’s current moment of renewal can partially be attributed to state investment. The government recently allocated €300m to make Cinecittà a more appealing destination for both domestic and foreign projects. The plan, due for completion by 2026, includes upgrading infrastructure and building new studios to increase production capacity by 60 per cent.

This coincides with recent films that have helped to put Italian cinema back on the map. “We are gaining more recognition,” says Zurzolo, citing homegrown talent such as Alice Rohrwacher, director of 2023’s acclaimed La chimera, and the resurgence of Italian films receiving Academy Award nominations. Since the late 1990s, few Italian submissions for the best international feature film category had been accepted – a notable exception being the triumph of Paolo Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty in 2013. But in recent years films such as Io capitano by Rome-born director Matteo Garrone and Sorrentino’s The Hand of God have been up for the prize.

Despite his youth, Zurzolo already has plenty of experience. He discovered theatre as a child and made his on-screen debut at the age of seven in a Vodafone ad featuring footballer Francesco Totti. A year later he was cast in Don Matteo, a TV series about a crime-solving Catholic priest, one of Italy’s longest-running shows. It was there that he discovered his passion for being on set. “There’s this strong sense of community and togetherness that remains one of my favourite parts of the job,” he says.

In 2018, Zurzolo joined the cast of one of Italy’s first big Netflix productions, Baby, loosely based on the 2014 “Baby Squillo” scandal involving underage prostitution in Rome.

Its success led to more TV roles (as a working-class outcast in Prisma and an anarchic Jewish student who joins the Italian resistance movement in La Storia) but a defining moment came in 2022 with Zurzolo’s international film debut. Polish director Jerzy Skolimowski approached him for a role in EO, which tells the story of a donkey that has been forcibly taken from its owner. “I never thought that I could play a 30-year-old with a monologue in English,” he says. The film won the Jury Prize at Cannes that year and was nominated for the best international picture Oscar.

As his star rises, Zurzolo is spending some time this year in Los Angeles and taking a course to perfect his English. Meeting industry professionals in the US has confirmed his belief in Italian cinema’s status as a global player. “We tend to undervalue ourselves in Italy,” he says, reflecting on his childhood, when he looked up to Hollywood as the sole path to a successful acting career. “When I am abroad, I see so much respect for our cinema and actors. We have the talent to live up to our reputation. We just need to believe in ourselves a bit more.”

Why the ubiquitous Toyota Alphard may soon have competition

When it comes to ferrying wealthy families around Asian cities, the Toyota Alphard is king of the road. During rush hour at Bangkok’s top international schools, fleets of this minivan enter and exit the gates, each dropping off one child. The only regional variation seems to be the colour: white in Bangkok and black in Hong Kong. Lunch at the Peninsula? Charity event at the Hong Kong Jockey Club? C-suiters leave their Bentleys and Rolls-Royces at home. Alphard’s “executive lounge” model costs about HK$1.2m (€148,000) – a value-for-money investment in quality of life.

In Asia, travelling in comfort is the ultimate status symbol. The Alphard’s cabin might be bigger than that of an SUV (it’s billed as a seven or eight-seater) but Asians buy Alphards to sit in one of the two armrest-equipped leather-upholstered seats behind the driver and enjoy the space inside. The 2024 Alphard has seats that convert into an ottoman position at the touch of a button, while a model displayed at last year’s Japan Mobility Show (a “spacious lounge” concept) featured clothes hanging up at the back. 

Alphards aren’t for driving either. Not by their owners, anyway. The affordability of chauffeurs in Asia adds to the model’s appeal. Being driven in the back of an Alphard is quiet luxury on four wheels – and certainly beats trying to navigate Hong Kong’s winding roads or Bangkok’s cluttered side streets. The Alphard, however, is not yet everywhere in Asia. In Metro Manila, for instance, where poor-quality roads are regularly flooded and families tend to have more children, only wealthy Filipinos can afford a vehicle that focuses on comfort over function. The Toyota Fortuner, with its high-road clearance and extra seats, is a far more popular choice. But the fact that Alphards are becoming more common on Manila’s roads points to the city’s investment in infrastructure (see ‘Hold my beer’).

It’s difficult to think of an equivalent people-carrier in Europe. The Renault Espace became popular with families in the 1980s and 1990s but never made the business crossover and has since been reduced in size and recategorised as an SUV. In contrast, Asian car manufacturers are clearly convinced that this plus-sized car model has a big future. South Korean and Chinese manufacturers are bearing down on Toyota’s number-one status all over the region and even the Alphard’s crown is not safe. The Hyundai Staria has become a common sight in Bangkok. Smooth and curvy where the new Alphard is sharp and angular, it is the successor to the Starex, which was always more transit van than luxury transport. “More room for luxury” is the tagline, while the marketing images include a mother leaning on the boot while her daughter crawls on a convertible bed (in East Asia, camping has somehow become a status symbol).

In Hong Kong, meanwhile, mainland Chinese brands are making visible headway. SAIC’s fully electric Maxus MIFA 9 is proving popular. An electric Alphard is rumoured to be launching in the next few years, by which time Toyota might be facing competition on the domestic front as well. Nissan unveiled its all-electric Alphard-killer at October’s Japan Mobility Show. The Hyper Tourer concept car champions autonomous driving and the sales pitch focuses on spending quality time with family and friends. As robots take control of the wheel, these luxury lounges on wheels might soon become the only way to get from A to B.