Will Ocean Protection Treaty Become South China Sea's New Weapon?

A treaty designed to protect the world's oceans may have just handed South China Sea claimants their newest diplomatic weapon. The High Seas Treaty, which came into force on January 17, promises to safeguard marine biodiversity—but experts warn it could also provide fresh legal cover for territorial ambitions.

Two Decades in the Making

The Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ) agreement represents the most significant ocean treaty since the 1982 UN Convention on the Law of the Sea. After 20 years of negotiations, it finally gained enough support when 60 nations ratified it last September.

The treaty establishes legally binding protections for marine ecosystems in international waters—areas covering nearly half the world's surface and more than 60 percent of global oceans. Its noble goal: ensure humanity shares equitably in the benefits of the high seas, including valuable genetic resources found in these waters.

China was among the first to sign when the treaty opened at the UN in 2023, and formally ratified it through the National People's Congress last October. On paper, this looks like environmental leadership. In practice, it may be strategic positioning.

Conservation as Camouflage

The treaty's focus is already shifting from biodiversity to boundaries. By establishing new global norms for ocean stewardship, the agreement could provide what analysts call a "rhetorical template"—allowing claimants to mask territorial ambitions with the language of conservation.

In the South China Sea, where China, the Philippines, Vietnam, and Malaysia have competing claims over 90 percent of the waters, this presents a troubling possibility. Marine protected areas could become de facto zones of control. Environmental monitoring could justify increased military presence. Resource management could mean resource monopolization.

The irony is stark: a treaty meant to transcend national boundaries may end up reinforcing them.

Beijing's Strategic Calculus

China's enthusiastic embrace of the treaty deserves scrutiny. Beijing has consistently argued that its South China Sea claims—encompassing nearly the entire waterway through its "nine-dash line"—are historically justified. Now it has a new arrow in its quiver: environmental stewardship.

Imagine China proposing marine protected areas in disputed waters, citing the need to preserve coral reefs or protect endangered species. Who could argue against conservation? Yet such areas would require monitoring, enforcement, and management—activities that could strengthen de facto control over contested territories.

This isn't hypothetical. China has already demonstrated how infrastructure projects can advance territorial claims. Artificial island construction in the Spratly Islands was initially justified for civilian purposes before military installations appeared.

The West's Dilemma

Western nations find themselves in an uncomfortable position. They strongly support ocean conservation—climate change and pollution have pushed marine ecosystems to the brink. Yet they're wary of how China might weaponize environmental protection.

The United States, which hasn't ratified the original UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, faces particular challenges in countering China's moves. American "freedom of navigation" operations in the South China Sea could be reframed as threats to marine conservation if China successfully establishes protected areas in disputed waters.

European nations, despite their environmental commitments, worry about the precedent. If conservation becomes a tool for territorial expansion in Asia, similar dynamics could emerge elsewhere—in the Arctic, the Mediterranean, or other contested waters.

Regional Ripple Effects

For Southeast Asian nations, the treaty presents both opportunities and risks. Countries like the Philippines and Vietnam could use conservation arguments to strengthen their own claims. But they lack China's resources to implement large-scale marine protection programs.

Indonesia, despite not being a direct South China Sea claimant, has its own concerns. The world's largest archipelagic state depends heavily on maritime trade routes that could be affected by new conservation zones. Any disruption to shipping lanes would impact its economy.

Japan, while geographically removed from the South China Sea disputes, watches nervously. It has its own territorial disputes with China in the East China Sea, where similar conservation-based claims could emerge.

The Enforcement Question

The treaty's effectiveness—and potential for abuse—ultimately depends on enforcement mechanisms. Who decides where marine protected areas are established? How are violations prosecuted? What happens when conservation claims conflict with existing territorial disputes?

These questions remain largely unanswered, creating space for creative interpretation. In international law, ambiguity often favors the powerful—those with the resources and willingness to act first and justify later.