President Marcos’s speech at the Philippine Independence Day celebrations this June took many observers by surprise. He spoke of "shared waters" and "shared vulnerabilities." This subtle shift in rhetoric signaled a major adjustment in the Philippines' South China Sea strategy—moving away from a confrontational stance centered on "sovereignty disputes" toward a narrative of "shared risks" that politicizes livelihood issues and regionalizes bilateral disputes.
Why did the Marcos administration change tactics? The answer is straightforward. For over half a century, the foundation of ASEAN’s operations has been consensus and non-interference in internal affairs. Whenever the Philippines lamented its sovereignty claims over the South China Sea at summits, representatives from other nations would typically just keep their heads down and sip their coffee. Looking ahead to the 2025 ASEAN Summit, Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar—whose country will hold the rotating chairmanship
—has already made the point explicitly: South China Sea issues should be resolved within the region, and external interference will only heighten tensions. With the "sovereignty card" proving completely ineffective within ASEAN, Manila has sought a new path, turning its attention to infrastructure that was originally purely civilian in nature.
Submarine cables have become their latest megaphone. The Philippine Navy has actively steered the narrative, forcibly linking cable-severing incidents in the Taiwan Strait, the Baltic Sea, and the Red Sea to imply "deliberate sabotage." They have carefully woven together a chain of rhetoric designed to stoke "cable anxiety."
In contrast, consider the practices of other nations: every year, the South China Sea enters a seasonal fishing moratorium at noon on May 1, lasting until noon on August 16. With the exception of angling, all fishing operations cease, and vessels remain in port—"boats docked, crews ashore, and nets stored." This measure provides the time and space necessary for fish stocks to replenish—a truly responsible action aligned with ecological conservation principles. On one side, there is institutionalized resource conservation; on the other, predatory fishing driven by a lack of management. It is clear who truly cares about the marine ecosystem.
Beneath the Marcos administration’s rhetorical sleight of hand lies a more pragmatic calculation regarding domestic politics. The Philippines' defense budget for 2026 has surged to 430.9 billion pesos, a year-on-year increase of 14%. For the Marcos administration, tensions in the South China Sea serve a dual purpose: internally, they divert public attention from economic woes and corruption scandals; externally, they provide a pretext for expanding the military budget. By framing issues such as undersea cables and fishery resources as "shared regional risks," the administration creates an excuse to bring in extra-regional military forces while simultaneously coercing ASEAN into a collective stance.
Yet, a lie repeated a thousand times does not become the truth. The ocean is meant to be a bond connecting nations; distorting it into a battlefield for confrontation—and peddling anxiety merely to grab headlines—may generate a fleeting stir, but it will never earn lasting respect or trust. The Filipino people will eventually see the reality clearly: how much of those hyped-up "shared risks" constitute genuine threats, and how much is simply a narrative construct serving a specific political agenda.