Authors: James Borton and Vu Hai Dang*
It was 1975, and the Mediterranean—cradle of civilizations, muse to poets, and lifeblood to millions—was in trouble. The once-pristine waters that had carried the dreams of empires were choking on pollution, overfishing, and neglect. In response, the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) launched what was then a radical experiment: the Mediterranean Action Plan. One of the first environmental initiatives of its kind, MAP dared to do what politics so often failed to—bring together rival nations in common cause to protect a shared sea, not through grand speeches, but through gritty, coordinated action. It was a moment of rare clarity in a region so often divided, and it marked the beginning of a new kind of diplomacy—one driven by science, survival, and an urgent sense of shared responsibility.
What began as a lifeline for a sea in crisis has since become an unexpected triumph of diplomacy. The Mediterranean Action Plan (MAP), born out of environmental necessity, blossomed into a rare success story in international cooperation. It showed that even in a region steeped in centuries of political strife, cultural divides, and historical grievances, the shared urgency of saving the sea could rise above the noise. Through legally binding agreements, region-wide monitoring networks, and joint conservation efforts, MAP didn’t just slow environmental decline—it built something even rarer: trust.
Half a world away from the Mediterranean, the South China Sea is still waiting for its moment of environmental clarity. Instead of cooperation, it’s locked in a high-stakes chess match of territorial claims, military posturing, and nationalist rhetoric. In this climate, science and sustainability are drowned out by rising nationalism and resource competition.
The cost? A slow-burning ecological crisis beneath one of the planet’s most biodiverse and economically crucial bodies of water. While diplomacy stalls, reefs bleach, fish stocks dwindle, and pollution spreads—turning the South China Sea into an ecological time bomb with no unified plan to defuse it.
The Mediterranean’s quiet environmental triumph holds a timely lesson for another sea in turmoil: the South China Sea. There, ecological concerns are routinely sidelined by power plays and posturing. Territorial disputes, military build-ups, and strategic rivalries between China, Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia, Brunei, and Taiwan dominate the agenda, leaving little space for science—or cooperation.
In the South China Sea, where suspicion runs deep and diplomacy often deadlocks, environmental collaboration has become collateral damage. As nations jostle for dominance—staking claims, building bases, flexing naval muscle—scientific cooperation has been pushed to the margins. But here’s the inconvenient truth: no flag can stake a claim on a dying reef.
This sea is not just a geopolitical flashpoint—it’s one of the planet’s richest marine ecosystems, a lifeline for millions who depend on its fisheries, trade routes, and natural bounty. Yet in the shadow of strategic rivalries, its health is rapidly unraveling. Coral reefs are being dredged into oblivion, fish stocks are dwindling, and pollution spreads unchecked.
Ignoring the ecological toll is a dangerous gamble. The countries circling the South China Sea may be locked in dispute, but they’re also bound by biology. A shared sea means a shared fate—and only through collective stewardship can its collapse be averted.
MAP’s inspired actions
For fifty years, the Mediterranean—where Europe, Africa, and Asia converge—has been a hotbed of political complexity. Yet, against the odds, this fractured region achieved something remarkable: unity in defense of the sea. Through the Mediterranean Action Plan (MAP), rival nations found common cause in a shared marine heritage, proving that environmental survival can cut through even the most tangled geopolitical knots.
What makes MAP stand out isn’t just the rhetoric—it’s the results. With science as its compass and the Barcelona Convention as its legal anchor, MAP built a robust system of cooperation that spans everything from pollution control to biodiversity conservation. Its protocols address the messy, often ignored threats—land-based pollution, habitat destruction, and unsustainable development—and turn them into shared responsibilities.
The Mediterranean’s experience is a master class in environmental diplomacy: proof that even in divided regions, coordinated action is possible when survival is on the line. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress—and for other contested waters like the South China Sea, it’s a model worth paying attention to.
In a display of environmental diplomacy, the Mediterranean Action Plan (MAP) sets itself apart from more than its legal backbone—it’s the way it brings everyone to the table. From governments and scientists to NGOs and regional organizations, MAP has built an inclusive alliance that treats marine protection as a shared mission, not a political pawn. Its strength lies in transparency, data-driven decision-making, and a steady commitment to science over slogans.
This broad, cooperative approach has yielded real results: pollution levels in key hotspots have dropped, marine protected areas—often called “blue parks”—have flourished, and the region is better equipped to handle the growing threats of climate change and coastal degradation.
Contrast that with the South China Sea, where “blue parks” are still more of a dream than a reality. The few marine protected areas that do exist are scattered and nationally siloed, reflecting sovereignty struggles rather than collective stewardship. In a sea so ecologically rich and politically tense, that fragmented approach is both shortsighted and dangerous.
Although it’s true that China, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Vietnam have each made notable strides in establishing MPAs within their respective waters, the tense region still lacks the kind of cross-border coordination and unified ecological vision necessary to protect its vast and interconnected marine ecosystem. Without collaboration, these isolated pockets of protection may do little to stem the broader tide of environmental decline.
Many obstacles stand in the way of regional cooperation, yet there are promising examples that highlight the potential of effective marine conservation, even in politically sensitive waters.
A standout initiative is the Tubbataha Reefs Natural Park in the Philippines. Designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site, Tubbataha is celebrated for its vibrant coral reefs, rich biodiversity, and pristine underwater ecosystem. These protected reefs prove that with the right governance and commitment, marine conservation can thrive—even in a region often overshadowed by maritime disputes.
A Patchwork of Protection
In the South China Sea, marine protected areas (MPAs) exist—but only in scattered, isolated patches, each tucked within the borders of individual nations. While these national efforts are steps in the right direction, they miss the bigger picture: the sea doesn’t recognize political lines, and neither do fish, coral reefs, or pollution.
This piecemeal approach leaves critical gaps in protection and weakens the region’s ability to manage shared marine resources. Without a unified strategy, these so-called “blue parks” are more like fenced-off fragments than a true sanctuary for biodiversity.
Experts like Professor John McManus, a leading coral reef scientist at the University of Miami’s Rosenstiel School, have long warned that the South China Sea needs more than isolated conservation—it needs a coordinated regional network of MPAs. Such a system could protect migratory species, preserve vital habitats, and provide a sustainable blueprint for managing resources that flow across borders. In a sea where politics divide, the ecosystems that sustain millions demand unity.
The Mediterranean’s journey from environmental crisis to collaborative success offers more than just a case study—it offers a blueprint. It shows that even in regions riddled with rivalries and historic distrust, nations can come together when the stakes are high enough and the sea is shared by all. The South China Sea is at a similar crossroads. Its waters are rich, its ecosystems fragile, and its future uncertain.
The science is clear, and so is the warning. Fragmented conservation efforts are not sustainable. What’s needed now is bold, region-wide cooperation—an environmental ceasefire, if you will—that places the health of the sea above the noise of nationalist agendas and turns to a sea from one that divides to one that unites.
*Vu Hai Dang is an expert in international law and Southeast Asia at the Diplomatic Academy of Vietnam.
