The tiny islands, reefs, and cays of the South China Sea hardly seem worth the attention—China raised protests in the Philippines by building several reinforced structures on Mischief Reef in the Spratlys—but their abundant natural resources and location astride busy sea and air lanes make them the most sought-after island chains on the planet.
A long and growing list of military techno-thrillers and role-playing board games have one thing in common: they presuppose the outbreak of a regional war in the South China Sea. It is not hard to see why. Linking peninsular and insular Southeast Asia, the South China Sea hosts the busiest shipping and air lanes in the world. Though the bulk of the 200 islands that pockmark its surface are little more than exposed coral reefs (one of its four island groups still is submerged, but may surface in the distant future), the fact that they sit astride these primary routes lends them enormous strategic value.
There is another reason why the South China Sea contains some of the most coveted real estate on earth: under its surface is a rich menu of proven and potential natural resources—from fish to titanium to oil and gas.
Until modem times, the conflicting territorial claims over the South China Sea were of relatively little import. Using maps of questionable accuracy, Asia's kingdoms and empires competed for spheres of influence, on land as well as at sea. But because they had little ability to project—and sustain—significant naval power, any such inflated and overlapping maritime claims usually resulted in little more than verbal saber rattling. in the meantime, the islands of the South China Sea remained all but deserted save for the occasional fisherman seeking shelter during typhoon season.
Since World War II, however, the parameters of warfare have changed. Technological advances have improved force projection radically, even for small to medium-sized military powers. The resuits of this were dramatically demonstrated in 1974, when China and Vietnam came to blows over the Paracel Islands.
Drawing First Blood
On paper, the Paracels hardly appear worth a fight. Consisting of 22 islets, 7 sand cays, and 11 exposed reefs, they are situated 445 kilometers east of Vietnam and 336 kilometers south of China's Hainan Island. Four nations in the early 1970s set claim to the chain: the People's Republic of China (PRC), the Republic of China on Taiwan (ROC), the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, and the Republic of Vietnam.
Of the four, the Republic of Vietnam was first off the blocks. With the Vietnam War in a temporary hiatus following the 1973 Paris Peace Accords, the government in Saigon suddenly had time to contemplate action to support its longstanding maritime claim. Courtesy of the United States, Vietnam also had the largest navy in Southeast Asia, including several hundred SEAL commandos.
Loading a couple dozen SEALs into a modest-sized naval armada, the Vietnamese steamed out to the Paracels in early 1974 and raised their flag over several islets. The move hardly made headlines, but it had the full attention of the PRC. Wasting little time, the Chinese massed a larger armada and made their way south.
The resultant mismatch was short and bloody. The Chinese killed or captured the entire Vietnamese occupation force. One American civilian, who had accompanied the Vietnamese as an observer, was beaten and also taken prisoner.
International reaction was enlightening. For the United States, the Republic of Vietnam was an important regional ally. But despite pleas from Saigon for the United States to come to its defense, Washington refused. Having just extracted itself from the Vietnam conflict the previous year, the U.S. government wanted no part of renewed fighting in that part of the world. Instead, Washington insisted that it took no position on the legal merits of the competing sovereignty claims, but was willing to help broker a peaceful resolution if requested by the parties.
The Democratic Republic of Vietnam also was caught in the middle. For Hanoi, the Saigon regime was a sworn enemy, and its defeat at the hands of the Chinese was something that should have been welcomed. But Hanoi also had aspirations to the Paracels, and the defeat of fellow Vietnamese by the PRC did not set a good precedent. The Democratic Republic of Vietnam, as a result, responded with barely a whisper.
Since that clash in 1974, the PRC alone has retained a military presence in the Paracels. The U.S. Central Intelligence Agency estimates that one of the largest islands in the chain now sports a runway sufficiently long to accommodate most fighter and bomber aircraft. In addition, the Chinese have erected a fuel storage facility that can support maritime activity elsewhere in the sea.
Six Overlapping Claims
Like the Paracels, the Spratly chain has been the scene of naval clashes resulting from overlapping territorial claims. Also like the Paracels, the Spratlys appear an unlikely focus for international competition. The chain consists of 104 islands, reefs, and cays, the largest less than one square kilometer. Total land area is a little more than two kilometers. Most islands lack drinking water and—except for about 700 coconut trees—nearly all are unsuitable for agriculture.
But given that the Spratlys lie dead-center across the sea lanes plying the South China Sea-and the fact that its waters contain a significant percentage of the world's remaining oil reserves-they share more claimants than any other island chain on the planet.
Since the 1970s, six nations—the PRC, ROC, Vietnam, Malaysia, Philippines, and Brunei—have included part or all of the Spratlys within their respective national boundaries. Claiming the islands on paper is one thing; physically occupying them is another. Just as in the Paracels, it was the Vietnamese who were the first to try. (Following the Indochina conflict, the united Vietnamese nation changed its name to the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, or SRV.)
To justify their claim, the Vietnamese reached back to their colonial roots. Early in the 20th century, the French—who occupied Indochina—had established a presence on some of the islands. During World War 11, the Japanese (who seized control of Indochina from the French) inherited these maritime claims. After the war, the Japanese abandoned the Spratlys and headed home. At the San Francisco Peace Conference in September 1951, the delegation from the Republic of Vietnam was quick to fill the void by insisting they were the rightful heirs to the chain. They received no objection, and for good reason: neither the PRC nor the ROC—the two Chinese rivals that insisted the Spratlys have been their territory since the Han Dynasty—were present.
Vietnamese claims aside, the Spratlys were all but vacant for the next two decades. It was not until the 1980s that the unified SRV decided to boost its naval presence around the chain. But just as in the Paracels, the PRC offered an immediate reaction. Steaming south in 1988, a Chinese task force sank two SRV Navy vessels and easily seized six of the Vietnamese-controlled atolls.
This clash signaled the beginning of more than a decade of tension in and around the Spratlys. Adding urgency was the desire by claimant nations to begin extracting some of the oil believed to be below the surface of the South China Sea. This led to an incident in June 1994 involving Vietnamese gunboats and a Chinese survey ship. For several days, the gunboats circled close in an attempt to cut the seismic testing cables trailing behind the Chinese vessel. Retaliating, the Chinese dispatched two frigates to block a nearby Vietnamese oil-drilling platform and drive off resupply ships.
China and Vietnam are not the only ones at loggerheads in the Spratlys. In 1995, China angered the Philippines by infiltrating part of the Filipino-held Mischief Reef. Three years later, Beijing again raised eyebrows by constructing several reinforced military-type bunkers along the reef, ostensibly to serve as fishing platforms.
Even among the members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations there is hint of strained ties over the Spratlys. Brunei and Malaysia—both of which base their claims on 18th-century British maps—have sparred verbally over their rights in the chain, and there were reports in 1999 that Malaysia fired on an overflying Filipino aircraft.
Today, the Spratlys are occupied by five armed forces. The PRC has a presence on seven reefs, and its chief rival—Vietnam—has its military deployed on two dozen inlets and reefs. Malaysia has settled on another five reefs. The Philippines controls eight inlets. The ROC has a garrison on a single inlet. Brunei also lays claim to the southern portion of the chain, but has not deployed personnel.
Of the six claimants, the PRC has emerged as the perceived aggressor. Part of this is because of its provocative decision to construct bunkers on Mischief Reef. Part, too, is because of its refusal to settle the overlapping claims through multilateral diplomacy. In November 1999, for example, Beijing spurned a call by Southeast Asian nations to support a draft "code of conduct" aimed at preventing further clashes in the Spratlys.
The Natunas Next?
The third and final set of islands subject to overlapping jurisdiction is the Natuna group. Located 400 kilometers southwest of the Spratlys, the Natunas fall within the 200 nautical mile exclusive economic zone claimed by Indonesia, which is the only nation to physically occupy the chain.
Indonesia's interest in the Natunas is understandable. Already, Jakarta is pumping oil from the waters around the Natunas at a rate of 35,000 barrels a day. Though gas has not started flowing, there are an estimated 210 trillion cubic feet in the northern part of the chain, making it perhaps the largest concentration of gas reserves in the world. (Indonesia signed a $35 billion deal in 1995 to develop this reserve.) The Natunas also are fertile waters for Indonesian fishermen, who theoretically can work in this exclusive zone without competition from foreigners.
At one point, the Indonesian government had grand visions for the Natunas beyond exploitation of natural resources. Former President B. J. Habibie boasted that he would make Natuna a high-tech industrial and commercial center that would rival Hong Kong by 2020. The funds to build this center allegedly would come from the chain's oil and gas profits. But with Indonesia's financial meltdown—and Habibie's political demise—these ambitious plans have been shelved.
Indonesia's economic woes are not the only thing complicating development in the Natunas. In 1993, Jakarta was shocked when the PRC published a map showing the Natuna gas fields as part of its territory. For years, Beijing has insisted that nearly the entire South China Sea is part of its historical domain. This was the first time, however, that the Chinese had extended this claim to impinge on what Indonesia insisted was its own exclusive economic zone.
Seeking clarification, the Indonesian foreign minister traveled to the PRC in July 1995. According to Beijing, China's claim to the Natuna fields springs from its interpretation of the sea border between the waters of the Spratlys and the Natunas. Indonesia, needless to say, was not impressed with this reasoning.
Though disappointed with Beijing's refusal to redraw its map, many in Indonesia publicly claimed there was little reason to fear Chinese intentions. China, after all, would have to overcome the vast distance to the Natunas. A direct air or sea challenge would be costly. In addition, China had not stated any intention to move against the Natunas.
That said, responsible leaders in Southeast Asia must safeguard their national interests based not on the perceived intentions of potential adversaries, but on their measurable capabilities. Capabilities and intentions are not the same—a country with the capability to attack a neighbor may not have any intention to do so—but since intentions are almost impossible to determine, a responsible defense strategist must rely on the calculation of capabilities.
In this light, the PRC's Natuna claims must be reassessed. First, Beijing has made good on each of its cartographic claims to the South China Sea. Chinese maps showed the Paracels as part of its territory—and the PRC moved against them. Chinese maps portrayed the Spratlys the same way, and it again made good on its claim. Now it is making a similar pledge about the Natunas. While the extreme distance would appear to work against them, the Chinese could overcome some of the logistical challenges by using the Spratlys as a staging base.
Second, U.S. neutrality in the South China Sea probably works in favor of China. The lack of U.S. reaction to Chinese provocations in Mischief Reef, for example—even though Washington has a defense pact with Manila—sent the wrong signal to Beijing. A similar message was sent in 1974, when another U.S. ally, the Republic of Vietnam, was overrun in the Paracels. It is equally unlikely that Washington would come to Indonesia's defense if the PRC made a move on the Natunas.
Third, there is no Southeast Asian navy today that could pose a serious challenge to a concerted Chinese naval effort. Indonesia, in particular, fields relatively few vessels that could sustain a battle far from its shores against a determined enemy. Though the new government in Jakarta has pledged to focus on upgrading the country's maritime forces, it will be a slow, upward effort. For the time being, China probably could do what it wants, where it wants.
Fourth, China is under pressure to fulfill mounting energy needs. Since 1993, it has been forced to import oil. Unless new reserves are found within its territory, China may need to import around 100 million tons of oil per year by 2020. Natuna's proven oil fields, as a result, become all the more inviting.
Fifth, a top goal for each Chinese dynasty has been to reunify China territorially. Chinese communist leaders have been no different. According to Beijing's latest maps, the waters around Natuna fall within its historical sphere of influence. An eventual operation to seize this area would be consistent with this Han version of manifest destiny.
Though perhaps outgunned, Indonesia would almost certainly not give up the Natunas without a fight. Sea lanes are the economic lifeline of Indonesia. Its critical oil and fisheries industries depend on the South China Sea. Losing the Natunas would have a crippling effect on an already hobbled Indonesian economy.
In addition, with Indonesia's territorial integrity under fire from within, Jakarta has become especially vigilant against external threats to its land and sea borders. Given the chain's major economic importance, this is especially true for the Natunas. Former Armed Forces Commander Feisal Tanjung pledged that Indonesia would do all in its capacity to defend the chain. As proof, he ordered a major combined-arms exercise in the region in 1996; many observers were impressed with Jakarta's limited but determined power-projection ability.
That same year, Indonesia announced it would increase patrolling around the Natunas' waters. Within two weeks after this effort commenced, 50 Chinese fishing boats were detained.
Yet, for all this posturing, there is reason for hope. Since the Abdurrahman administration took office in October 1999, relations with China have improved considerably. President Abdurrahman Wahid, in fact, pledged that closer ties with Beijing would be a cornerstone of a new Indonesian foreign policy. While the challenges to realizing this goal are legion, the fact that he was annunciating such an objective has enormous ramifications. At the very least, closer links between Beijing and Jakarta would make it less likely that the PRC would spoil the mood with a provocative act against the Natunas.
But even if Beijing stops short of the Natunas, the South China Sea remains a dangerous neighborhood. The claimants to the Spratly Islands cannot even agree on a code of conduct to prevent further clashes, let alone resolve the claims themselves. And with navies around the world getting better at power projection, sustained battles far from shore-especially in the South China Sea-probably will be more likely in the future. At the very least, this gives fertile literary ground for the budding Tom Clancys of the world.
Captain Nugroho recently received his Masters in diplomacy and military science from Norwich University, Vermont.