Woody Island is a speck of
land in the middle of the South China Sea, not quite a square mile in size.
Over the past 80 years it has been occupied by French Indochina, Imperial
Japan, the Republic of China, the People’s Republic of China, South Vietnam,
and, after a brief war in 1974, the People’s Republic again. Now known as
Yongxing to the Chinese (or Phu Lam to the Vietnamese, who still lay claim to
it), the island has an airstrip, a harbor, and a few hundred Chinese residents,
none native-born, many of whom make their living as fishermen.
An
obscure tropical island may seem an odd starting point for an essay on the
coming global disorder. Yet great conflicts have been known to flare over
little things in faraway places. “On the morning of July 1, [1911,] without
more ado, it was announced that His Imperial Majesty the German Emperor had
sent his gunboat the Panther to
Agadir to maintain and protect German interests,” wrote Winston Churchill in
his history of the First World War. The proximate causes of the German foray to
this deserted Moroccan bay “were complicated and intrinsically extremely
unimportant.” But the real purpose of the kaiser’s move was to test—and, he
hoped, to break—Britain’s alliance with France and, perhaps, scope out the
possibility of establishing a German naval base in the north Atlantic. “All the
alarm bells throughout Europe,” Churchill recalled, “began immediately to
quiver.”