By James Borton
In the contested waters of the South China Sea, where geopolitical fault lines threaten to fracture regional peace, an unlikely but promising form of diplomacy is beginning to surface—not through battleships or borderlines, but through coral reefs and sea turtles.
As governments tussle over sovereignty and maritime boundaries, some environmental advocates and policymakers are proposing an alternative conversation—one about shared stewardship. At the heart of this approach is “science diplomacy,” the concept that scientific cooperation across borders can build trust and open dialogue where traditional politics stall.
With fish stocks plummeting and marine ecosystems on the brink, marine protected areas (MPAs) are emerging as unlikely vehicles for both conservation and diplomacy. Often dubbed “blue parks,” these ocean sanctuaries are attracting support from scientists, conservationists, and diplomats, who see them as a rare chance for cooperation in the fractious waters of the South China Sea.
When thoughtfully planned and jointly managed, cross-border marine sanctuaries offer more than just refuge for ocean life—they carve out unexpected pockets of diplomacy in the tense waters of the South China Sea, where shared stewardship may succeed where politics often stall.
The South China Sea is a vital refuge for five of the world’s seven sea turtle species, including the endangered green turtle, whose nesting populations are in global decline. Yet amidst geopolitical rivalries, these migratory turtles are catalyzing an unlikely kind of diplomacy. Joint conservation efforts among claimant nations are showing that science-based collaboration can bridge political divides—and offer hope for recovery.
One inspiring precedent lies in the Turtle Islands Heritage Protected Area (TIHPA), a pioneering transboundary sanctuary jointly managed by the Philippines and Malaysia since 1996. This sanctuary spans crucial nesting beaches for endangered green and hawksbill turtles. Despite political divides, both countries have demonstrated environmental stewardship through joint patrols, shared biological data, engaged local communities –proving that shared ecological priorities can transcend borders.
In 2014, a new chapter began in Manado, Indonesia, when the Turtle Islands Wildlife Sanctuary (TIWS) launched plans to integrate with a broader MPA network under the Coral Triangle Initiative (CTI). Anchored in the Sulu-Sulawesi Marine Ecoregion (SSME), this regional effort links the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia in a coordinated push to protect marine habitats while addressing overfishing and climate change. The initiative has become a model for multi-country collaboration, showing that when nations focus on what swims beneath the surface, they can sidestep sovereignty disputes—at least temporarily.
Amid the tense geopolitics of the South China Sea, this one marine sanctuary stood out—not just for its ecological value, but as a quiet experiment in cross-border diplomacy. Home to endangered species and coral reefs, the sanctuary also supported the livelihoods of nearly 40 million coastal residents who depend on the sea for food and income.
In a region often defined by territorial disputes and political standoffs, the project became a rare model of environmental cooperation. Scientists, fishers, conservationists, and government officials from multiple nations joined forces, building trust through shared research, dialogue, and a common commitment to marine protection. The initiative offered a powerful lesson: in contested waters, ecology can succeed where politics often fails.
Vietnam and the Cu Lao Cham Model
Another model lies farther north in Vietnam, which has steadily developed an impressive network of MPAs along its coast. One standout is Cu Lao Cham, a UNESCO-designated biosphere reserve where community-based conservation has reversed ecological decline and boosted local livelihoods. Though not located in a contested area, Cu Lao Cham has attracted interest from regional scientists for its governance structure and local engagement—a template some believe could be replicated in more politically sensitive areas.
In a full disclaimer, and accompanied by two Chicago-based documentary filmmakers, Kathy and David Monk, I was responsible for producing, “Island of Life,” a short documentary based on this exceptional marine protected area.
Quietly, marine scientists from Vietnam and China have been exploring the idea of networked MPAs—a transboundary approach that addresses overfishing, coral bleaching, and biodiversity loss at the ecosystem level. These discussions, though largely technical, represent a form of track-two diplomacy that continues even when formal political talks falter.
The South China Sea Through Environmental Lens
The South China Sea, once home to some of the world’s most vibrant coral reefs, is fast emerging as a major but underreported environmental crisis zone. Massive island-building projects by regional powers—including China, Vietnam, Malaysia, and Taiwan—have devastated fragile marine ecosystems.
Through extensive dredging and artificial land reclamation, these countries have transformed large swaths of coral reef into militarized outposts, accelerating biodiversity loss and compounding the effects of climate change and pollution. The Asia Maritime Transparency Initiative estimates that more than 6,200 acres of coral reefs have already been destroyed.
This vast, contested body of water sustains some of the world’s richest marine ecosystems and supports the livelihoods of more than 400 million people across its coastal nations. The seascape offers one of the most bio-diverse marine regions on the planet, home to an estimated 600 species of coral. Yet its reefs and fisheries are under siege.
Aggressive land reclamation, rising ocean temperatures, and coral bleaching are accelerating the degradation of critical habitats. For the millions who rely on fish as a primary protein source, the ecological damage translates directly into shrinking catches and growing insecurity. Fishermen—often dispatched under national mandates to secure food and economic survival—find themselves on the front lines of an unfolding environmental crisis.
A 2023 study by the UN Environment Programme and the ASEAN Centre for Biodiversity found that more than 80% of coral reefs in the South China Sea have been affected by human activity, with reef fish biomass declining by up to 50% in some areas over the past two decades.
As pollution pours in from coastal cities and rivers, and oil rigs, shipping lanes, and rogue fishing fleets add to the strain, the South China Sea is fast becoming an ecological pressure cooker. Its once-resilient marine ecosystems are buckling under the weight of human activity. With overlapping territorial claims and no single steward, nations find themselves racing for solutions in a sea they all depend on—but none truly control.
Can Migratory Turtles Build Diplomatic Bridges?
The concept may seem far-fetched, but science policy experts argue that migratory species like sea turtles can serve as de facto ambassadors—nudging claimant nations toward cooperation. “If turtles can cross maritime boundaries without regard for flags, the argument goes, then perhaps countries can too, at least when it comes to conservation,” claims George Balazs, a global independent sea turtle scientist.
Dr. Frederick C. Yeh, conservational biologist and founder of Sea Turtles 911, sees the increasing likelihood that if migratory turtles can help engage South China Sea claimant nations in building diplomatic goodwill—particularly in easing maritime tensions in places like the Sulu Sea—then China might eventually see value in framing a new narrative based not on jurisdiction, but on ecological cooperation.
China, despite its hardline stance on maritime claims, has established over 270 MPAs within its own waters according to Li Yunzhou, a research scientist at Stony Brook University’s School of Marine and Atmospheric Sciences. Many of these are poorly managed or lack proper enforcement, but the scale of the effort indicates a growing recognition of marine conservation’s importance. Crucially, a new generation of Chinese marine scientists and policy thinkers are increasingly vocal about the biodiversity crisis in the South China Sea—and the need for regional solutions.
China’s Marine Sanctuaries Face New Test in the South China Sea
China has a long track record of establishing marine sanctuaries, often as part of its broader efforts to manage coastal resources and preserve biodiversity. But as environmental pressures mount in the contested waters of the South China Sea, experts warn that traditional conservation models may no longer be enough.
Rising sea temperatures, widespread habitat destruction, and unchecked overfishing are pushing the region’s marine ecosystems to the brink. While China has designated numerous marine protected areas (MPAs) in recent years, scientists and conservationists argue that many of these zones lack robust enforcement and regional coordination—key ingredients for success in such a geopolitically sensitive and ecologically complex environment.
With fish stocks in steep decline and critical habitats vanishing, calls are growing for more collaborative, science-based approaches that transcend national boundaries. Without such efforts, experts fear the South China Sea could face irreversible ecological collapse, with profound consequences for the entire region.
Reversing the ecological decline in the South China Sea will require more than unilateral action. Lasting marine conservation depends on broad international cooperation—bringing together regional stakeholders in a shared effort to turn policy goals into tangible environmental gains.
Many regional conservation experts agree that China possesses the scientific capacity to take a leading role in marine protection. The critical question, they say, is whether that capacity will be used to build bridges—or reinforce barriers—in the South China Sea.
While the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) strategic goals in the South China Sea remain firmly rooted in securing territorial control and projecting maritime power, China’s growing investment in marine protected areas (MPAs) and scientific collaboration signals a more layered approach. Far from undermining military objectives, this environmental diplomacy may serve to legitimize China’s presence under the guise of stewardship, softening international criticism while bolstering its leadership narrative. Cooperative research with scientists from rival claimant states could help de-escalate tensions on the surface—while quietly reinforcing Beijing’s long-term strategic foothold.
At the same time, China’s dual messaging—military assertion paired with ecological cooperation—reflects a sophisticated form of soft power, calibrated to appeal to global audiences increasingly concerned about climate change and marine degradation. By positioning itself as both protector and power player, Beijing blurs the line between genuine conservation and strategic posturing. This approach not only enhances its credibility in multilateral forums but also creates a framework where scientific engagement becomes a controlled, state-sanctioned channel of diplomacy—useful for optics, but always subordinate to core security interests.
Now, eyes are turning toward flashpoints like Scarborough Shoal—an atoll claimed by both China and the Philippines—as potential candidates for similar cooperative conservation. Although sovereignty disputes remain thorny, the concept of joint environmental management, backed by scientific data and multilateral engagement, could offer a much-needed diplomatic off-ramp.
The idea is gaining traction among regional scientists, diplomats, and environmentalists who argue that preserving marine ecosystems doesn’t just protect biodiversity—it preserves peace. If former adversaries can agree on the shared value of sustaining fisheries and preventing ecological collapse, the South China Sea might transform from a theater of conflict into a cradle of cooperation.
Blue Parks as Confidence-Building Measures
Transboundary marine protected areas—often called “blue parks”—are built around ecosystems, not borders, offering a powerful alternative to zero-sum territorial disputes.
By prioritizing ecological continuity over political lines, these zones open the door for joint efforts in enforcement, research, and habitat protection. Successful models already exist in the Caribbean, the Mediterranean, and the Western Indian Ocean. Advocates like John McManus, a prominent marine biologist, and Anna Oposa, co-founder of Save Philippine Seas, argue that blue parks could offer a rare diplomatic lifeline in the South China Sea—turning shared marine stewardship into a starting point for peace. In a region as sensitive as the South China Sea, even a basic agreement on shared conservation goals could help lower the temperature.
In the end, the promise of marine protected areas isn’t just about fish, reefs, or turtles. It’s about the possibility that countries locked in conflict over what flags fly above the water might find common cause in protecting what thrives below it.
James Borton is the Editor-in-Chief of the South China Sea NewsWire and the author of Harvesting the Waves: How Blue Parks Shape Policy, Politics, and Peacebuilding in the South China Sea.
Photo credit: Hawksbill turtle, swimming in a protected coral reef in Anilao, facing the West Philippines Sea by Jorge Ida
