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Writer's pictureLionel Ameis

‘Vaccine Diplomacy’ and the Delicate Dance for Diplomatic Sway

While most high-income nations have been busy negotiating advance market commitments – securing exclusive deals with pharmaceutical companies in their effort to inoculate their citizenry – another vaccine race has been unfolding unbeknownst to many. Some of the world’s largest vaccine producers, including China, India, and increasingly Russia have been busy handing out millions of free doses in what many now fathom as contemporary instances of ‘vaccine diplomacy’.



At first glance, many such initiatives seem commendable. Take, for instance, Chinese donations in Southeast Asia (SEA), which account for 62% of China’s global vaccine supply. Laos has been provided with some 300,000 vaccine doses while Pakistan has to date received 1.2 million Sinopharm shots. They are, no doubt, laudable insofar as they may help stem the seemingly insurmountable burden the virus places on their respective health systems. India, too, has been doling out millions of complimentary shots to many of its neighbours in the Indo-Pacific and SEA, such as Myanmar, Bangladesh, Mauritius, and the Seychelles – countries which only have limited capacity to fight the pandemic themselves.

The fact that many less endowed nations are seeking help from Beijing, New Delhi, and others should therefore be of little note. After all, rejecting vaccine donations certainly won’t be an option for countries that either lack the financial wherewithal to strike exclusive bilateral deals or possess limited national research capacities to develop a vaccine. Upon closer inspection, however, the issue of ‘vaccine diplomacy’ turns out to be more complicated than one might be inclined to believe.

The uncomfortable truth about ‘vaccine diplomacy’

Alas, the delicate diplomatic dance in which countries like China, India, Russia and others are currently engaged seldom falls in the category of global solidarity. One need not look far beyond the different narratives to reckon with an uncomfortable truth: ‘vaccine diplomacy’ is but another means to reap political goodwill, make strategic inroads, and gain the upper hand in the perennial fight for soft-power influence.

Just days ahead of President Biden’s inauguration Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi concluded a four-nation trip to Brunei, Indonesia, Myanmar, and the Philippines. While promising advances in major infrastructure projects under China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), Wang actively coupled national policy priorities with pledges of Chinese vaccine access.

In Indonesia, for example, the Foreign Minister met with a senior aide of President Joko Widodo ahead of the roll-out of the Chinese Sinovac vaccine in the country. The trip was seen by analysts as a part of the PRC’s broader regional strategy aimed at strengthening diplomatic relations, pre-empting initiatives by the new US administration, and also pushing for greater cooperation on Chinese vaccines. In Myanmar, Wang was received by (now deposed) President Win Myint and Aung San Suu Kyi. In addition to discussions on border security and regional cooperation, Wang also promised some 300,000 Chinese vaccine doses. Finally, in his visit to the Philippines Foreign Minister Wang promised half a million Covid-19 jabs, in addition to loan pledges of $1.34 billion for infrastructure projects.

As the Singapore-based Yusof Ishak institute cautioned in a December 2020 paper: “China’s ‘vaccine diplomacy’ is not unconditional,” adding further that, “Beijing may use its vaccine donations to advance its regional agenda (…).” China, furthermore, appears particularly adept at offering preferential access to vaccine jabs with analyses now pointing toward the many diplomatic wins it has been able to score through its ‘vaccine diplomacy’ initiatives. Whether in North Africa, the Balkans, or Africa, Chinese-made inoculations are being airlifted no matter the cost. To be added here is the fact that such diplomatic initiatives quickly became an important aspect of Beijing’s efforts to burnish its tarnished reputation – arguably a consequence of it mishandling the early spread of the virus. Although a quid pro quo style of ‘vaccine diplomacy’ seems unlikely in the immediate term, “in the long term it will pay dividends,” also given that Chinese leaders have understood the long-term impact the pandemic will have.

Similar to China, India began airlifting vaccine doses to its immediate neighbours in mid-January. At last year’s virtual UN General Assembly Prime Minister Narendra Modi already made sure to emphasize that, “as the largest vaccine producing country of the world, (…) India’s vaccine production and delivery capacity will be used to help all humanity in fighting this crisis.”

Since then, India has produced and delivered millions of doses – primarily of the Oxford/AstraZeneca vaccine – under its very own ‘vaccine friendship’ or ‘vaccine maitri’ campaign. Indeed, India’s greatest strength in the dance for diplomatic sway is its unrivalled vaccine production capacity. At any given time, India produces up to 60% of the world’s vaccines – a manufacturing heft it has not spared any effort in leveraging.

India’s vaccine production advantage has, consequently, become an important factor in its regional diplomatic engagement. Not unlike China, New Delhi’s policy stance constitutes an attempt to use its vaccination advantages skilfully to make it look positively altruistic wherever vaccinations are delivered. Or in the words of PM Modi: “We will continue to give due importance to our Neighbourhood First Policy while collectively fighting the pandemic.”

Take the Seychelles as an example. Amidst rising strategic competition in the Indo-Pacific, China and India have been courting the archipelago nation for years. At least since a November 2020 visit by the Indian External Affairs Minister Jaishankar to the capital Victoria it has become evident how much attention New Delhi is paying towards the construction of a shared military facility on Assumption Island – part of the Seychelles’ outer archipelago. China, too, has been looking to deepen cooperation with Victoria – also on security-related issues.

Fast-forward to February 2021 and the island nation with a total population of 98,000 has received two shipments of 50,000 vaccines each – produced by China and India, respectively – the latter being delivered by Indian navy aircraft to much fanfare. As a result, the Seychelles has become the first nation to start rolling out vaccinations in Africa and currently ranks second worldwide in terms of doses administered per 100 people. Not only that, it has announced that vaccinated tourists will be able to enter the country, enabling the nation to reopen its vitally important tourist industry soon. As Foreign Minister Sylvestre Radegonde was quoted as saying: “It’s a tremendous benefit. We appreciate that in our hour of need India, like China, is always present.”

While the delivery of Chinese and Indian vaccines has had unquestionable benefits for the Seychelles – and, indeed, many other nations – it also is emblematic for a duelling ‘vaccine diplomacy’ that, at its heart, is driven much more by naked self-interest than altruism. No matter the example, from Russian ‘vaccine diplomacy’ in more than 50 countries, to Chinese and Indian efforts in their immediate neighbourhood and further afield, the principal reason for ‘vaccine diplomacy’ remains the same: enhancing soft-power influence overseas and buffing the image of national science globally.


To be sure, western nations’ current stance on global vaccine distribution is no less blameworthy. In particular, if one considers their policy of ‘clearing the shelves’ while continuously speaking the language of equitable access – aptly criticised as pushing the world to “the brink of a catastrophic moral failure.” Of the 12.5bn vaccine doses the largest vaccine producers have pledged to produce in 2021, roughly half has been pre-ordered by wealthy nations - with Canada, for example, securing supplies equivalent to five times of the population.


Such criticism notwithstanding, it must be noted that efforts currently being undertaken by many western nations, including organizations such as the EU, deviate significantly from some of China, India, and Russia. While the latter nations are primarily focussing on their ‘vaccine diplomacy’ efforts of sending free vaccines, others are channelling their resources into financing multilateral campaigns under the auspices of the WHO. Initiatives like the ACT Accelerator/COVAX will therefore be key to ensuring the immunisation of low and middle-income nations.


Conclusions

While the fact of the matter remains that global health has for long been an arena for states looking to bolster their soft power, rivalries between the most relevant global health actors have actually fuelled successful eradication campaigns. What’s more, despite the many challenges global health diplomacy has faced in the past, ‘vaccine diplomacy’ can function as a springboard for greater policy coordination on pandemics and their fallout. Given that many more such positive examples exist – often made possible by well-intentioned ‘vaccine diplomacy’ – one may like to at least hope for some necessary changes to transpire.

Contemporary instances of ‘vaccine diplomacy’, however, appear to be deeply embedded within a global struggle for soft-power influence. Real prospects for cooperative ‘vaccine diplomacy’ on the currently necessary scale remain slim: too eager are the efforts by the world’s vaccine powerhouses to curry favour with smaller nations by sending free vaccines and too quickly have richer nations acted to secure the lion’s share of available doses.

Mired in the complexities of the global health system – and further convoluted by states’ apparent willingness to use the latter as an arena for competition – it thus seems rather questionable whether ‘vaccine diplomacy’ can offer a panacea of sorts for the world’s pandemic woes. To the dismay of billions in need, such a gloomy conclusion bodes ill not only for the current pandemic and access to much-needed inoculations but also future epidemics of global proportion. Given the disconcerting trends in ‘vaccine diplomacy’ across the world it will remain imperative to monitor the issue at hand – for the dance for diplomatic sway has just begun.


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