MAY 4 — There was a time when the rising sun of Japan was the guiding light for Malaysia’s economic ambitions. The “Look East Policy,” inaugurated by Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad in the early 1980s, was more than just a diplomatic slogan; it was a national ethos. It painted Japan not just as a trading partner, but as a civilisational model — a testament to what an Asian nation could achieve through discipline, hard work, and a unique brand of corporate capitalism.

Today, however, the landscape tells a different story. The billboards that once championed Sony and Mitsubishi now glow with the branding of Huawei, BYD, and Samsung. China has unquestionably become Malaysia’s dominant economic partner. The question is why this tectonic shift has occurred, and whether the Land of the Rising Sun can ever reclaim its former glory.

To understand Japan’s diminished role, one must first look at the stagnation of its own economy. The “Lost Decades” following the asset bubble burst in the early 1990s transformed Japan from a aggressive global investor into a cautious, risk-averse player. Japanese corporations, once eager to build sprawling manufacturing complexes in places like Shah Alam and Johor, became conservative. Their model, based on lifetime employment and consensus-based decision-making, was ill-suited for the breakneck speed of the digital age and the hyper-competitive landscape of the 21st century world.

While Japan was looking inward, China was aggressively looking outward. The 2010s saw Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) pour billions into Malaysian infrastructure. The pace was dizzying. Where a Japanese feasibility study might take three years, a Chinese state-owned enterprise could break ground in three months. This speed, coupled with a willingness to invest in massive, visible projects like the East Coast Rail Link (ECRL), captured the Malaysian imagination and filled a vacuum that Japanese caution had created.

The author argues that Japan’s influence in Malaysia has waned due to decades of economic stagnation and China’s rapid rise as a dominant regional investor, but that Tokyo can still regain relevance by focusing on high-tech collaboration, innovation partnerships, and a renewed form of cultural diplomacy suited to the demands of the 21st century. — Unsplash pic

The simple truth is that the “special relationship” with Japan was sustained by strong personal rapport at the top. As Dr Mahathir’s direct influence waned and a new generation of Malaysian leaders and consumers came of age, they felt no such nostalgia. They witnessed Japan’s slow-motion retreat from the region and simply looked elsewhere for the economic dynamism they craved.

Regaining its place will not be easy. The world has moved on, and a return to the 1980s is impossible. However, Japan’s decline is not irreversible. To reclaim its relevance, Tokyo must fundamentally change its strategy, moving from a model of general manufacturing to one of high-tech, high-value specialisation.

First, Japan must pivot from competing on volume to leading in niche excellence. While China dominates mass-market EV production, Japan holds the keys to the future of mobility: advanced batteries, lightweight materials, and the complex supply chain for the semiconductors that will power the next generation of smart cars. Instead of trying to sell the most cars, Japanese giants like Toyota and Panasonic should position themselves as the indispensable technological partners for Malaysia’s own automotive ambitions, particularly in the EV sector.

Second, Japan needs to rediscover its innovative edge through genuine collaboration. The old model was Japan teaching, and Malaysia learning. That era is over. The new model must be one of co-creation. Japan is a global leader in robotics, IoT, and green technology. Malaysia, with its industrial base and digital aspirations, is the perfect testbed for these innovations. Instead of just building factories, Japanese firms should establish joint R&D centres with Malaysian universities and startups to solve local problems — from smart agriculture in Sabah to flood mitigation technology in Kuala Lumpur.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, Japan must engage in a new form of cultural diplomacy. The “Look East” policy needs a 2.0 version. This isn’t about asking Malaysians to bow more deeply or work longer hours. It is about showcasing Japan’s soft power in the 21st century. This means leveraging its global dominance in anime, gaming, and design to build bridges with Malaysian youth. It means promoting tourism not just for shopping, but for educational exchanges in tech and the arts. It means making Japan seem fun, accessible, and futuristic again.

The narrative that Japan has permanently lost its place in Malaysia is not yet a foregone conclusion. Its economic footprint may have shrunk, but its reputation for quality, precision, and reliability remains intact. If Japan can leverage these assets with the urgency and adaptability of a challenger, rather than the complacency of an established power, it can carve out a new and vital role. The sun may have faded, but it has not yet set. Whether it rises again depends entirely on whether Japan is willing to look east once more — and see a partner, not just a pupil.  

* Professor Datuk Ahmad Ibrahim is affiliated with the Tan Sri Omar Centre for STI Policy Studies at UCSI University and is an Adjunct Professor at the Ungku Aziz Centre for Development Studies, Universiti Malaya. He can be reached at ahmadibrahim@ucsiuniversity.edu.my 

** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.

A number of fantastic ducks lined up in the month of June and I want to talk about all of them, but there isn’t time to do it in one giant post. One duck, however, took the form of appearing at the 14th International Melville Society Conference to speak about my time aboard the Charles W. Morgan eleven years ago. (You can read the comic about that trip here.)

I read Moby-Dick for the first time a handful of years ago and loved it, but I wouldn’t call myself a Melville scholar. However, attending this conference felt like a great chance to scratch the academic itch without, say, going to grad school.

I ended up spending the whole week taking visual notes, which allowed me to drop into a type of weightless, fixated attention that I’ve really missed in my caregiving life. It also helped give me something to do during panels where I felt a little, uh, out of my depth.

When I’m drawing, words just wash over me. I can pluck the ones that resonate in the moment, then step back at the end of the hour and get a picture of what I took away from the talk. I particularly loved the freedom to just wander into panels where I had no idea what the speakers were talking about, only to come away newly-enthused about some niche avenue into Melville’s work.

Time and time again the attendees emphasized how unique this conference is in its warmth and intellectual diversity. I met scientists and art historians and medievalists and printmakers and disability scholars and tall ship sailors and filmmakers and many, many professors. It was a dreamy, albeit intense, four days.

Here are the notes from every talk I attended, all drawn straight to ink during the speakers’ presentations (usually about 20 minutes per person).

The biggest takeaway was that we need embedded cartoonists at all sorts of academic conferences—and the demand is there! People were so thrilled to see this kind of work coming out of the event, and there are lots of journals hungry to publish unusual creative content alongside academic papers.

Something to pursue…eventually. Got a couple things* to wrap up first.

_{*unfathomably vast creative projects}