Malaysia's former prime minister Mahathir Mohamad famously saluted "Asian values" citing "diffidence" as one of the characteristics that ostensibly made Asians different, though he did so in an arrogant, attention-grabbing kind of way. More successful was his "Look East Policy", (which, from the geographic confines of Malaysia is actually the Philippines) and there was no mistaking that it was Japan that Mr Mahathir had in mind, with China hovering somewhere out of focus in the background.
Japan to this day enjoys a reputation for behaviour that is "Asian" in the sense that it adheres to the norms of self-effacement, politesse, and indeed, diffidence, while China, in recent years at least, has tended to outright arrogance. It has become increasingly bombastic, if not a bully, ever since its economy boomed and the wolf warriors were unleashed.
The incongruous leadership styles in Japan and China go far beyond the diplomatic playbook. The differences can be seen as the two nations compete for hearts and minds in Thailand, especially in the realm of infrastructure projects.
Tokyo's soft-shoe disbursement of funds overseas has been fine-tuned over many decades to blend in with the local environment with the result that it is considerably less showy and self-celebratory than Xi Jinping's Belt and Road scheme. That's not to say it's flawless or free of intrigue, and indeed there are strings attached, though the goals and gains remain modest.
In contrast, China's recent efforts in the official development assistance game, in keeping with grandiose visions of a Chinese-led "shared future for mankind" look clumsy, even calamitous in comparison.
To be fair, China's unmerited self-confidence and self-regard in the game of foreign aid brings to mind the imperial strain of US foreign policy combined with the transactional bent of Donald Trump. As for Japan, which for a time embraced Mr Mahathir's vision of a world devoid of pesky Western values on human rights and other issues, it's taken decades to get where it is today.
For years Japan development aid was tone-deaf to Western calls to take into account non-economic issues such as human rights and anti-democratic rule. A case in point is the way Japan blithely ignored sanctions and continued its unbridled "economic cooperation" with Beijing after the bloody June 4, 1989 crackdown at Tiananmen.
In the past twenty years or so, however, Japan's position has shifted to the point where it is on board with best international aid practices, at least as defined by the US and Europe, while China increasingly remains the odd man out.
For example, China today stands almost alone in its unbridled support for the junta in Myanmar despite worldwide sanctions in response to Nay Pyi Taw's dictatorial ravages.
From Beijing's point of view, domestic suffering and injustice, even war crimes, are best left unaddressed. This handily allows China to fill the vacuum created by the withdrawal of US, EU and Japanese programs.
Long a recipient of aid, and no stranger to human rights abuse at home, Beijing has now emerged as the lender of choice to rogue leaders, the first lender of last resort. In return for aid, there are demands for adherence to a political line (on Taiwan first and foremost, but the list of cantankerous CCP talking points gets longer by the day).
Want to be part of the Belt and Road? No background check necessary, but if you don't pay up, debt diplomacy is a force to be reckoned with. Which again raises the contradictory nature of Asian values. One approach is quiet, calculated and diffident, the other approach rather more brazen, bold and bullying.
The China train runs on a direct path to and from China. The Japan train runs in circles around the outskirts of Bangkok. Japan gets less press, but it is arguably the more empathetic donor, at least the needs of local people is taken into account.
That Japan should be deft, if not exactly diffident, in its foreign aid schemes is not entirely surprising given Tokyo's long history of economic "cooperation," including a great deal of aid entanglement with China.
China's top-down governance system, in contrast, leaves little room to ponder how the export of a megaproject impacts locals, and leaves almost no recourse for those who disagree.
It's clearly advantageous for Beijing to promote a rail line that cuts through the heart of Thailand to link China's hinterland to the sea, but what's in it for the locals and what does it do to Thai sovereignty?
Ditto for cutting a canal at the Kra Isthmus, or constructing a container train link from the Gulf of Siam to the Andaman. Inasmuch as each megaproject is designed to serve the export machine of China, Inc., environmental costs go unquestioned and the utility to locals is but an afterthought. Profits flow back to China.
Japan, rightly proud of the Shinkansen (accident-free since 1964!) by all rights should be a contender for, if not the winner of, any bid to build a high speed train racing through Thailand.
The original and exemplary high-speed model, the Tokyo-Osaka run, has been profitable, and remains preferable to flying, because it links the downtowns of two mega-cities.
Ditto for China's Beijing-Shanghai line, which is one of the few segments of China's over-reaching high rail network that is actually turning a profit.
High speed rail might make sense in a nation with two large cities, but Thailand has only one.
Japan's own research showed that Thailand does not need, and will not necessarily benefit from a fast train.
It lacks the market conditions to repay the loans incurred, and anyway, what's the rush, especially if the cargo is mostly Chinese and mostly containers?
Despite the shining legacy of the Shinkansen, and despite Japan's vested interest in automobile exports, it prudently turned to funding smaller, more humble projects, such as subways and suburban rail lines.
And for the greater Bangkok area, it's a good fit, judging from the implementation of the MRT Purple Line and other downtown rail projects that move commuters away from the fray of a city jammed with cars.
Like the numerous joint-venture bridges built across the Chao Phraya, inner-city rail is of no obvious service to Japan, but it serves Thailand well.
A Chinese-managed high speed train network connecting Kunming to the Gulf of Siam is a plus for Chinese exports, but it's not clear how much the Thai people stand to benefit, especially with a debt burden of decades.
While Japan's current aid policy is hardly innocent of political calculation, it can be said to be mature, intelligent, restrained and relatively fine-tuned to regional needs. It's a stable symbiosis eight decades in the making.
Tokyo has worked assiduously to burnish a tarnished image dating to the predations and invasions of the Pacific War, and indeed, some of the aid in the early days was effectively a monetary apology.
The militarists are long gone, replaced by corporate samurai seeking profit in Thailand, albeit in gentler and generally agreeable terms.
China, on the other hand, was locked out of trade and aid to Thailand for the second half of the 20th century due to assertive US foreign policy, but it also represents an own-goal of a "revolutionary" regime rooted in xenophobia.
In recent years, China has undergone a mad rush to make up for lost time, and it has gained impressive market share in trains, containers and automobiles in Thailand. Beijing's headstrong rush to conquer new markets and reshape Asia in its image is a work in progress, but if the seemingly jinxed high speed rail project being pressed upon Thailand is anything to judge by, the questionable speed gains may be offset by delays, political bickering and economic loss.
The failure to conduct adequate market research and due diligence, and Beijing's concomitant willingness to ignore critics for the sake of national glory and political expediency brings to mind not the diffident Japan of today, but the bad old days of the Bridge over the River Kwai, when human rights and political sovereignty took a back seat to imperatives for laying rail at a breakneck pace for geopolitical reasons that had nothing to do with the improving the quality of life of the host nation.
Philip J Cunningham is a media researcher covering Asian politics. He is the author of 'Tiananmen Moon'.