The Presidential election campaign is in the home stretch. Neither the President nor Senator Kerry has secured a decisive advantage.

Iraq is now the central issue of debate, as one would expect, since the war is going badly, and the economy is reasonably robust. The debate is finally beginning to focus on substantive differences between the candidates after a summer in which they mainly exchanged personal attacks on their respective Vietnam records. Their strategies are now clear: Bush will challenge Kerry's steadiness and consistency; Kerry will challenge the necessity of the campaign in Iraq and the competence of the administration's efforts there. But while their diagnoses of the situation differ, their proposals for dealing with what is clearly a mess are not so clearly differentiated. Both propose to seek additional help from members of the international community; both emphasize the need to train and arm Iraqi security forces; and both are hopeful that elections will enhance the legitimacy of Iraqi leaders, fortify their efforts to dry up the insurgency, and allow American forces to be reduced and eventually withdrawn.

Historically, wars have been unkind to presidents on whose watch they occurred. The Korean War reduced Harry Truman's popularity so dramatically by 1952 that he gave up his quest for a second full term. The Vietnam War drove Lyndon Johnson from office, despite impressive domestic achievements. Victory in the Gulf War of 1991 sent George H.W. Bush's approval ratings soaring, but within a year he was defeated by an obscure Arkansas governor.

Yet President Bush still clings to a narrow lead in the polls. Why?

Senator Kerry has argued that the Iraqi campaign is a "war of choice." Perhaps so. But Osama bin Laden issued a fatwa declaring war on the United States nearly a decade ago. Whatever the outcome in Iraq, war with Islamic extremists will continue. And American voters remain nearly evenly divided as to whether John Kerry has the steadfast character and consistent judgment they want in a wartime leader.

Uneasiness about the financial and human costs of the war is growing. Casualty figures in Iraq are high compared to the numbers killed or wounded in post-cold war American interventions in Somalia, Haiti, Bosnia, and Kosovo. Yet, those earlier conflicts involved humanitarian interventions in which Americans perceived little strategic stake. However, military personnel killed in Iraq - now more than 1000 - still number less than a third of the civilians who perished in New York and Washington on 9/11. And ours is a volunteer military that is highly motivated.

When confronted by an attack, Americans have consistently taken the fight to the enemy, engaging them in combat as far from our shores as possible. The president has portrayed the campaign in Iraq as an integral feature of the war on terrorism. To at least a number of voters, the absence of any terrorist attacks in the United States since 9/11 provides evidence that his approach, while not without significant costs, is working.

Victory at the polls may be a dubious prize. Whoever is sworn in on January 20, 2005 will face daunting choices. American options in Iraq range from the "potentially disastrous" to the "extremely distasteful." We cannot simply walk away. And a host of other dilemmas - e.g. nuclear crises in Iran and North Korea, a Middle East peace process that has gotten off track, strains in the trans-Atlantic relations, a multilateral trade round that has lost momentum - demand urgent attention. Beyond this, the next president will be hampered by a gigantic fiscal deficit and a military that is stretched thin. In short, he will have few easy choices. It makes one wonder why politicians yearn for this job.

President Bush has claimed a renewed mandate, and has begun to reshuffle his national security team. Condi Rice will move to State; Steve Hadley will move up at the NSC. Rich Armitage and Jim Kelly, who have borne much of the day-to-day responsibility for U.S. policy in Asia, are leaving along with Colin Powell. What might we expect of the Bush administration in its second term?

Generally speaking, continuity rather than change is likely to be the watchword in foreign policy. Above all, the Middle East and South Asia are likely to remain the principal preoccupations of American concerns. In Iraq, Washington will seek to acquit its commitments - to hold elections, train Iraqi security forces, and accelerate reconstruction projects - with whatever measure of dignity and honor it can muster in the face of excruciatingly difficult choices. With Yassar Arafat's death, American engagement in Israeli-Palestinian issues is destined to increase. And Iran's bid for nuclear weapons will continue to challenge the United States and Europe.

Thus Asia will not have pride of place on the Bush agenda. Yet it will continue to command Washington's attention. Why? Because it is in Asia that the interests of the great powers intersect most directly. Asia is the world's most dynamic economic area, and it is becoming more tightly integrated. Washington cannot afford to neglect South and Southeast Asia, for in these areas Islam presents a relatively moderate face. And North Korea, of course, poses a direct and growing challenge to the administration's nonproliferation policy.

Fortuitously, the United States is better positioned in Asia than in most other regions. Our military presence remains sizable and retains mobility and flexibility. Our economy continues to generate solid demand for Asian exports and is a robust source of direct investment. While criticism of American policy is widespread in the region, it is not expressed with the virulence that is seen in Europe and the Middle East. Above all, Washington has cultivated the Asian great powers assiduously, and has managed to improve relations with Tokyo, Beijing, Moscow, and New Delhi - a substantial accomplishment. It remains to be seen whether it can work in concert with others to ameliorate the sources of discord on the Korean Peninsula and over the Taiwan Straits.

The United States, to be sure, confronts some daunting challenges in Asia. If the U.S.-Japan alliance is in excellent condition, defense cooperation with Seoul remains troubled by the sharp divergence in U.S. and Korean perspectives on North Korean aims and strategy. Nor have we found a solid basis for pursuing with Pyeongyang's neighbors a coordinated approach to the six-nation talks. Regional economic cooperation is taking shape along pan-Asian rather than trans-Pacific lines. Developments in the Middle East threaten to "Arabize Islam" in Southeast Asia. And the "Johnny One Note" quality of American diplomacy - i.e. its preoccupation with international terrorism - often plays poorly against Beijing's more broadly based effort to provide regional leadership.

Nor is America unconstrained in its policy efforts in the region. Our military forces are stretched thin globally, impelling some downsizing of deployments in Asia. Huge fiscal deficits loom, and with growing bills falling due in both Iraq and Afghanistan, resources available for policy initiatives elsewhere are likely to be tight. The president has succeeded in pushing negotiations with North Korea into a multilateral framework, yet Washington is being pressed by its negotiating partners to adopt a more conciliatory posture. The democratization of Asian nations, while welcome, does not automatically facilitate U.S. diplomatic objectives. Recent elections in South Korea and Taiwan were decisively shaped by a new generation of voters. Governments in Seoul and Taipei are increasingly accountable, yet viewed from the United States, they are not extraordinarily sensitive to Washington's views, let alone deferential to its lead.

With these considerations in mind, one should expect President Bush and his foreign policy team to continue cultivating close ties with the Asian powers. Whether Washington can effectively utilize those relationships to roll back North Korea's nuclear program and avert crises in the Taiwan Straits will depend heavily on its relationships with the governments in Seoul and Taipei. And at the moment South Korea appears determined to expand economic ties with the North virtually without reference to Pyeongyang's nuclear activities. Taipei remains preoccupied with efforts to assert its own identity while counting on American protection.

In the end, of course, foreign policy rarely sees carefully laid plans bear fruit. Someone once asked a new British prime minister, Harold MacMillan, what would drive foreign policy in his government. He answered without hesitation, "Events, dear boy, events." I expect the same may be true for Mr. Bush.

With his second inauguration looming, President Bush has his hands full in the Middle East and with ambitious plans for domestic reform during his second term. In this context, Beijing's recently announced plans for anti-secession legislation is particularly unwelcome.

The content of the anticipated legislation remains uncertain, and its motivation and timing are puzzling. According to letters sent by the Chinese Embassy in Washington to key members of Congress, it is intended to "give full expression to the strong resolve of the Chinese people of never allowing the 'Taiwan independence' forces to cut off Taiwan from the rest of China under any name or by any means." Or as a pro-Beijing daily in Hong Kong put it, "It will leave 'Taiwan independence' forces with no room for ambiguity to exploit."

This suggests that the legislation's main aim will be further to deter President Chen Shui-bian's salami-slicing separatist tactics. An additional motivation may be to further energize U.S. efforts to restrain Chen in order to head off a future crisis. And, to be sure, the new legislative initiative may be attributable to internal political forces.

But why now, within weeks of President Chen's setback in the Dec. 11 legislative elections? One can only guess.

Perhaps Beijing chalked up the Democratic Progressive Party's difficulties in the elections to their own martial rhetoric, and decided to pile on new forms of political pressure. Perhaps it has concluded that despite the election results, Chen will still move aggressively on his stated intention to revise Taiwan's constitution -- thus moving a step closer to independence -- before the conclusion of his term in 2008. Perhaps it deduced from the pointed warnings directed at Chen by senior U.S. officials during the recent Taiwanese elections that Washington will now tolerate blunter threats to reinforce the People's Republic of China's "red lines."

Whatever the suppositions behind Beijing's plan for anti-secessionist legislation, they probably underestimate the substantial risks involved. Such legislation will doubtless alienate many Taiwanese voters, perhaps contributing inadvertently to the evolution of a growing sense of Taiwan's separate political identity, and producing wider legislative support in Taipei for major arms purchases from the United States.

It could also set off an action/reaction cycle with Taiwan that would undermine any possibility of reviving a serious cross-Straits dialogue. While Beijing's planned legislation may be its "response" to Chen's frequent references to constitutional referenda, it is as likely to encourage such referenda as obstruct them. It will upset many Americans, and it will galvanize the Taiwan lobby in America to stir up unhelpful resolutions in Congress when it reconvenes.

The greatest risk, perhaps, is that this could exacerbate the dangerous remilitarization of the Taiwan issue that has emerged since 1995, marked by explicit People's Liberation Army deployments and training aimed at Taiwan contingencies on the one hand, and escalating U.S. arms sales to Taiwan, combined with closer cooperation between the United States and Taiwan's defense establishment, on the other.

To a disturbing degree, this process seems driven less by policy considerations than by the parochial interests of the PLA for enhanced equipment and budgets, and by the attractiveness of the lucrative Taiwan arms market for U.S. military suppliers. Not surprisingly, this evolution is convincing pessimists on each side that confrontation is simply a question of time, despite the disaster it would represent for all parties.

Stabilizing this situation will demand the Bush administration's attention, despite other urgent preoccupations. Stability in the Straits, moreover, is an achievable goal if good sense prevails on all sides. Realistic leaders in Beijing recognize that there is no short-term solution.

With Taiwan in full control of its domestic circumstances, no country whose support is necessary for its independence to be meaningful views such independence as worth the cost of conflict with Beijing. The growing economic interdependence between China and Taiwan also raises the ante of any such conflict for them both.

To be viable, a stabilization arrangement cannot negate the "one China" principle, but it should leave open the parameters of an eventual settlement. Its goal should be an end to explicit PRC threats to use force against Taiwan and of overt preparations for military contingencies in the Strait, supplemented by reduced missile deployments opposite Taiwan; reduced U.S. military sales to Taipei consistent with the lowered threat level; more international "space" for Taiwan in exchange for an indefinite halt to actions aimed at enhancing Taiwan's international position; augmented links across the Taiwan Strait; and cross-strait talks aimed at addressing immediate problems and encouraging the growth of greater mutual confidence.

At a moment when we are entering a new year, let us hope that progress toward stabilization can be achieved.