China’s ambassador to ASEAN recently suggested that the current global energy shock triggered by war in the Middle East should be seen not only as a crisis, but as an opportunity to deepen cooperation on the transition to clean energy.
That framing may sound diplomatic. In reality, it is strategic — and increasingly hard to dispute. The disruption in the Strait of Hormuz has once again revealed a fundamental truth about the global economy: it runs on a fragile foundation.
Roughly 20% of the world’s seaborne oil passes through this narrow corridor, much of it destined for Asia. When conflict chokes the artery, the consequences are immediately felt in supply shocks, price spikes and political instability that ripples far beyond the Middle East.
Across Asia, governments are scrambling to conserve fuel, stabilize prices and shield their economies from cascading impacts. Some, like the Philippines, have already declared energy emergencies. Others, including Indonesia, have so far maintained stability — but only within a system that remains deeply exposed to external shocks.
The crisis is at its core structural. Asia’s economic rise has been powered by imported fossil fuels, much of them flowing through vulnerable maritime chokepoints.
That dependence is now colliding with geopolitical reality. As one recent analysis noted, the region’s reliance on imported energy is no longer just an economic risk, but a strategic liability that threatens long-term stability.
In that context, China’s position stands out. Beijing is hardly immune to the crisis. It still relies heavily on Middle Eastern oil, with roughly half of its crude imports tied to the region.
But years of preparation — from building vast strategic reserves to investing aggressively in renewable energy — have given it a degree of resilience that many of its neighbors lack. Even as global markets quake, China is better buffered against prolonged disruption than most major economies.
More importantly, China has spent the past decade reshaping its energy system. Renewable energy now accounts for more than half of its electricity capacity, reflecting a deliberate shift toward electrification and domestic energy sources. That transition, once framed primarily as a climate policy, is now revealing itself as a geopolitical strategy.
The less a country depends on oil shipments through contested waters, the more secure it becomes. This is where Indonesia enters the story.
Indonesia is not yet in crisis. Officials say fuel supplies remain stable, even as pressures mount. But like much of Southeast Asia, the country remains tied to a fossil-fuel-heavy system that leaves it vulnerable to precisely the kind of disruption now unfolding.
The fact that stability has held — for now — should not obscure how quickly it could unravel. At the same time, Indonesia possesses one of the most compelling untapped advantages in the region: renewable potential. Solar, hydropower and geothermal resources are abundant. What has been missing is not capacity so much as commitment.
China’s overture thus comes at a pivotal moment. Beijing has made clear its willingness to work with Southeast Asia on energy transition — from renewable generation to grid development and, crucially, energy storage, which remains one of the central challenges of clean energy systems.
These are precisely the technologies needed to turn intermittent renewable resources into stable, industrial-scale power. For Indonesia, a partnership with China offers a path to move faster and at a lower cost.
Chinese firms dominate global supply chains for solar panels and batteries, and they bring both financing and technical expertise. At a time when energy prices are rising and fiscal space is tightening, that combination is difficult to ignore.
Yet the opportunity comes with complexity. Deeper integration with China’s energy ecosystem raises questions about dependency and strategic balance. Infrastructure, once built, shapes relationships for decades.
For Indonesia, the challenge is not simply to accept investment, but to shape it — ensuring that cooperation strengthens domestic capacity rather than replacing it.
That balance is achievable. It requires clear policy, diversified partnerships and a focus on long-term resilience rather than short-term relief. The alternative — clinging to fossil fuel dependence while hoping for stability in distant regions — is far riskier.
The Strait of Hormuz crisis should be understood as more than a temporary disruption. It is a preview of a future in which energy security and geopolitics are increasingly intertwined, and where reliance on imported fuels carries growing costs.
China has already begun adapting to that future, driven by both necessity and ambition. Indonesia now faces a similar choice, under far less forgiving circumstances. The ambassador’s argument, stripped of its diplomatic language, is simple: crises can accelerate change. For China and Indonesia, this one can and should.
Muhammad Zulfikar Rakhmat is director of the China-Indonesia Desk at the Jakarta-based Center of Economic and Law Studies (CELIOS) independent research institute.