In the face of massive natural catastrophe, mankind’s response is often shocked and inarticulate incomprehension. The scale of the disaster is hard to imagine, the destruction massive and the human suffering incalculable. The violent earthquake under the ocean off Sumatra, one of the most powerful for a century, triggered massive tidal waves that have devastated the coasts of five countries — Sri Lanka, Indonesia, India, Thailand and Malaysia. It is likely that at least 10,000 people will have lost their lives as the tsunami swept ashore, with walls of water swamping fishing boats and smashing into coastal villages and tourists resorts. The chaos, terror and confusion were followed at first by silence, as communications were cut and dazed survivors sought out their loved ones. But slowly the world has responded. Politicians have promised immediate help. Religious leaders have offered prayers and comfort. Wealthy countries have begun airlifting emergency aid. And ordinary people far away, seeing the pictures and hearing the accounts, have reflected, often in awe and humility, on the fragility of human existence.

The response will inevitably be inadequate. It will take days, and perhaps weeks, to get the relief aid to the areas hit. Many of the settlements worst affected are poor and remote. Without swift access to food and medicines, many of the thousands injured may die. Western governments, the International Committee of the Red Cross and relief organisations are practised in dealing with earthquakes and their aftermath, and in recent years have learnt to prioritise relief action, send out trained personnel quickly and stockpile essential supplies. But they are rarely faced with a disaster so geographically widespread; almost the whole Indian Ocean rim has been hit, and few of the countries most affected have governments strong enough or with sufficient resources to co-ordinate the relief when it arrives.

Two countries with the largest known death toll, Sri Lanka and Indonesia, are already troubled by civil war and uprisings that add to the difficulty of channelling aid to where it is needed. The 8.9-magnitude earthquake occurred close to the Indonesian province of Aceh, where an uprising by Muslim militants has challenged the administration in Jakarta and the federal troops sent in to quell the rebellion. Those troops may now be of use in speeding access to the coastal regions. Seeing them engaged in relief work could be of considerable importance in reducing the hostility in Aceh to the central Government. Similarly in Sri Lanka, the eastern coastline is populated mainly by Tamils who have been waging a protracted separatist war against the Sinhalese majority. President Kumaratunga’s declaration of a state of emergency could, if followed up with energetic relief efforts, bring some reconciliation at a time when the Norwegian-mediated peace process is tottering on the verge of breakdown. Burma, too, has no doubt suffered damage, but reports emanating from this military-run country were less than sketchy last night. It is a measure of the arrogance of the regime that it is secretive even when the country’s people need assistance.

Earthquake diplomacy, which did so much to reduce endemic suspicion between Greece and Turkey, may be one of the few positive things to emerge from so much destruction. Societies that have suffered a natural catastrophe tend to pull together in the common challenge to rebuild their broken structures. This, in turn, can build bridges, political as well as economic, between communities split along racial, ethnic or religious lines. That can also work across national borders. In the past year nations of southern and South-East Asia have been discussing ways to form a more powerful and coherent grouping; the destruction that they suffered in common may hasten the interchange of expertise, aid and political ideas.

The immediate question most people are asking, however, is what can be done to stop such a catastrophe happening again. The scientific answer is, very little. Geologists understand the movement of tectonic plates beneath the Indian Ocean, potentially far more powerful than that along the San Andreas fault. They can warn coastal communities that a tsunami, racing across the ocean, will generate much larger waves as it approaches shallower waters. But they cannot yet accurately predict earthquakes, or their magnitude, especially under water.

Societies, however, can prepare themselves better for disaster. In Japan, subject to hundreds of tremors and earthquakes each year, strict regulations govern the construction and safety of buildings, every citizen is drilled in survival techniques and warnings are automatically relayed to the public. Many coastal towns have also installed defences against the worst effects of a tsunami. The system is costly, and poorer countries less frequently affected do not have the money or the will to do something similar. But simple preventative measures, from better coastal defences to relocating houses to higher ground, could cut deaths. So too could a greater pooling of the international expertise in earthquake and tsunami prediction.

For the moment, the task is to rescue, feed and shelter survivors. Here, especially, there is a chance for two countries well placed to offer help: Australia and America. Both are eager to cement relations with Asia, and both have run up against suspicion. They, like the rest of the world, should stretch out the hand of generosity. And the Asian nations in need should see that the gesture is well meant.