Reading between the lines of the KL Declaration

 If you’re a policymaker, investor, or analyst waiting for Asean to deliver bloc-wide certainty on carbon pricing, AI governance, or cross-border tax regimes – just stop.

From Samirul Ariff Othman

The 46th Asean Summit, held in Kuala Lumpur from May 22 to 27, culminated in a flourish of diplomatic ceremony with the adoption of the Kuala Lumpur Declaration on Asean 2045: Our Shared Future.

Proclaiming a vision that is “resilient, innovative, dynamic, and people-centred”, this new 20-year blueprint is positioned as the successor to the 2015 Asean 2025: Forging Ahead Together agenda.

The 2045 vision’s declared aims are both timely and sweeping: deepen regional integration, enhance institutional capacity, and make Asean more inclusive for its 700 million citizens.

But here’s the thing: declarations are not deliverables.

Having worked inside the machinery of regional policymaking, I’ve learned to interpret these communiqués not just by what they include, but also by what they strategically omit.

For the general reader, it’s tempting to take these documents at face value. After all, they speak the language of ambition: green energy corridors, digital trade integration, people-first development. Yet the truth is more nuanced and less choreographed.

Beyond the polished preamble

The 2025 KL Declaration undoubtedly represents a rhetorical and conceptual evolution from its 2015 counterpart. While the earlier document focused on erecting the pillars of the Asean Community – political-security, economic, and socio-cultural – the 2045 vision is pitched as a maturation phase. There’s a longer time horizon, a stronger emphasis on institutional reform, and an explicit effort to address global headwinds like technological disruption, demographic shifts, and climate volatility.

Where the 2015 declaration was concerned with construction, the 2025 version is about endurance. And yet, for all its language of shared futures and strengthened secretariats, the declaration remains anchored in the same structural limits that have long defined Asean.

A brand, not a bloc

More than five decades on, Asean is still not a unified bloc in the mould of the European Union or even the African Union. It is, at its core, a brand. One built on non-interference, flexible consensus, and diplomatic decorum. That identity has preserved peace in the region, but at the cost of policy precision and institutional bite.

Today, Asean remains 10 countries pulling in 10 different directions. Political systems span from absolute monarchies to flawed democracies. Economic models range from resource nationalism to artificial intelligence-powered digitalisation. These divergences make bloc-wide alignment on issues like Myanmar’s political implosion, China’s maritime assertiveness, or digital regulation extremely difficult, if not structurally impossible.

Is the KL Declaration a turning point?

Some analysts suggest the new KL Declaration is a subtle acknowledgement, perhaps even a coded admission, that Asean needs to reforge itself into a more formidable bloc. That may be partly true.

Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, in his post-summit press conference, emphasised Asean’s desire to engage with both the US and China based on economic logic, not ideological alignment. He called for a more unified Asean that can speak with one voice – particularly when navigating great power rivalries.

But declarations, no matter how well-crafted, do not guarantee cohesion. The reality is this: the real Asean happens offstage. Declarations like these are diplomatic theatre, designed to reassure international observers and domestic constituencies alike.

The actual decision-making power lies in the informal: in sideline bilaterals, working groups, ministerial text chains, and off-the-record deals. By the time a declaration is published, much of the substantive work – or indecision – has already occurred.

The subnational undercurrent

One element the KL Declaration overlooks entirely is the rise of subnational power centres.

Increasingly, the economic engines and political levers in Asean do not reside solely in national capitals. In Malaysia, states like Sarawak and Johor are charting their own investment paths, signing MOUs on green hydrogen and drawing foreign capital into special economic zones.

In Indonesia, the new capital shift to East Kalimantan signals more than geography; it is a decentralisation of fiscal and bureaucratic energy. In the Philippines, Mindanao’s autonomy experiment is redrawing how governance and peace dividends are distributed.

This subnational gravity complicates the notion of a singular Asean strategy. What matters is not just what’s written in Jakarta or Putrajaya, but how those directives are interpreted, implemented, or outright adapted by provincial actors with growing clout.

Stop waiting for policy certainty

If you’re a policymaker, investor, or analyst waiting for Asean to deliver bloc-wide certainty on carbon pricing, AI governance, or cross-border tax regimes – just stop. The better strategy is granular. Map influence networks. Track local champions and understand intra-bloc rivalries. Influence in Asean rarely comes with a ministerial title. It is often informal, layered and transactional.

Declarations like the KL 2045 are designed to avoid controversy. The silence on issues like Myanmar, uneven net-zero commitments, and China’s economic reach isn’t accidental – it’s structural. Asean’s model prizes harmony over clarity. That’s both its strength and its Achilles’ heel.

The symbol and the signa

Make no mistake, the KL Declaration carries symbolic value. It tells the world that Asean is still here, still imagining a common future, still putting ink to paper. But it is not a strategic operating manual. It is the overture, not the symphony.

For Asean watchers and stakeholders, the challenge is to read between the lines. To understand that in Southeast Asia, power doesn’t always follow the formal script.

So yes, the music of diplomacy continues. But if you want to understand Asean’s true tempo, don’t listen to the orchestra. Listen to the whispered negotiations behind the curtains.

Samirul Ariff Othman is an adjunct lecturer at Universiti Teknologi Petronas, an international relations analyst and a senior consultant with Global Asia Consulting.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect that of MMKtT.