In the contested waters of the South China Sea, ten nations and a rising power are racing toward a diplomatic deadline that may matter less than what they put inside it. ASEAN and China are pressing to finalize a Code of Conduct by year's end, yet the foundational questions—binding force, geographic scope, the rule of international law—remain unresolved beneath a surface of optimistic statements. History offers a cautionary lesson: the 2002 Declaration was signed while islands were being built and militarized, and a paper agreement without substance can serve to legitimize the very realities i
ASEAN must prioritize substance over speed in South China Sea code talks
A weak agreement could be worse than no agreement at all
Why does it matter whether the agreement is legally binding versus non-binding? Isn't a commitment a commitment?
Because the 2002 Declaration proved that commitments without enforcement mechanisms don't change behavior. China built islands and militarized them while that agreement was in place. A non-binding code would be the same thing—diplomatic cover for continued coercion.
But wouldn't any agreement be better than the current state of tension and confrontation?
Not necessarily. A weak agreement could actually be worse. It would give Beijing legitimacy to lock in the territorial gains it's already made, while ASEAN members lose leverage to push for real constraints on future behavior.
What's the geographic coverage issue about?
Some proposals would exclude contested areas like the Paracel Islands from the code's rules. That's a loophole. If the agreement doesn't apply everywhere, then the most dangerous flashpoints remain unregulated.
Why is Indonesia's role so critical here?
Because it has no direct territorial claim, Indonesia can advocate for smaller states without being accused of self-interest. It's the only major power in ASEAN positioned to push back on China without appearing to have a dog in the fight.
What happens if they miss the 2026 deadline?
Probably nothing catastrophic in the short term. But it signals that ASEAN couldn't deliver, which weakens its negotiating position. The real danger is rushing to meet the deadline with a bad agreement.
Is there any sign China might compromise on these core issues?
Not really. China's Foreign Minister emphasized adherence to the existing non-binding declaration, which suggests Beijing is comfortable with the status quo. That's the problem—the status quo favors China.
The Pulse
- Physical confrontations at Second Thomas Shoal—water cannons, laser interference, dangerous maneuvering—are escalating even as diplomats exchange reassuring words about 'good progress.'
- China's apparent eagerness to finalize a deal quickly raises alarm: two decades of slow-walked negotiations coincided with the dredging, building, and militarization of disputed features that now stand as permanent facts on the water.
- The most critical gaps—legal enforceability, full geographic coverage, UNCLOS grounding, and freedom for ASEAN members to partner with outside powers—are not footnotes but the entire substance of what makes a code meaningful.
- ASEAN's foreign ministers quietly dropped language calling for an 'early conclusion,' a small diplomatic signal that reveals how far apart the parties remain despite the public optimism.
- Indonesia, as the bloc's largest member and a non-claimant state, carries unusual leverage to hold the line on core principles rather than trade them for the appearance of a year-end win.
- Experts warn that a weak, non-binding agreement could be actively harmful—offering Beijing a legitimizing framework while leaving smaller Southeast Asian states more exposed than before.
In the contested waters of the South China Sea, ten nations and a rising power are racing toward a diplomatic deadline that may matter less than what they put inside it. ASEAN and China are pressing to finalize a Code of Conduct by year's end, yet the foundational questions—binding force, geographic scope, the rule of international law—remain unresolved beneath a surface of optimistic statements. History offers a cautionary lesson: the 2002 Declaration was signed while islands were being built and militarized, and a paper agreement without substance can serve to legitimize the very realities it was meant to constrain. The deeper question is not whether a code will be signed, but whether it will mean anything when the next vessel is surrounded at sea.
By the end of 2026, ASEAN and China are expected to finalize a Code of Conduct for the South China Sea—a framework designed to reduce the risk of military confrontation in one of the world's most strategically vital and disputed waterways. Foreign ministers have pledged to conclude talks within the year, and public statements from both sides project cautious optimism. But beneath the diplomatic language, the two sides remain deeply divided on the questions that determine whether any agreement would actually change behavior at sea.
The South China Sea carries trillions of dollars in annual trade and is the site of overlapping territorial claims, militarized artificial islands, and an accelerating pattern of gray-zone confrontations. Just before the recent Manila summit, Philippine and Chinese personnel clashed physically at Second Thomas Shoal. These incidents—water cannons, laser interference, dangerous maneuvering—are calibrated to intimidate without triggering open warfare, but they carry real risks of miscalculation and escalation.
History gives reason for caution about speed. For over two decades, ASEAN sought a legally binding agreement while China steered talks toward the weaker 2002 Declaration on the Conduct of Parties—a non-binding document that did nothing to prevent Beijing from dredging seabeds, constructing artificial islands, and militarizing disputed features. Experts now warn that a rushed, toothless code could be worse than no agreement at all, potentially locking in those physical gains and giving China a hand in writing rules that legitimize them.
For a Code of Conduct to matter, it must be legally binding, cover the full geographic extent of the South China Sea without carve-outs, be firmly grounded in the 1982 UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, and preserve ASEAN members' freedom to conduct joint exercises and energy projects with partners outside the region. These are not technical details—they are the difference between a document that constrains behavior and one that merely performs the appearance of diplomacy.
Indonesia, as ASEAN's largest member and a state without direct territorial claims in the disputes, holds unusual leverage to bridge internal differences while maintaining a firm stance. The approaching deadline presents the bloc with a clear choice: accept a quick diplomatic win that sacrifices substance, or hold to core principles and deliver an agreement that can genuinely protect Southeast Asia's strategic autonomy and the freedom of navigation that the entire region depends upon.
ASEAN negotiators are running out of time. By the end of 2026, the ten-nation Southeast Asian bloc and China are supposed to finalize a Code of Conduct for the South China Sea—a framework meant to reduce the risk of military confrontation in one of the world's most contested waterways. The pressure to deliver is real. Foreign ministers have pledged to conclude talks "within this year." China's Foreign Minister Wang Yi has voiced support for reaching a deal soon. Philippine Foreign Secretary Tess Lazaro told reporters that negotiations were making "good progress." But beneath the diplomatic optimism lies a harder truth: the two sides remain far apart on the things that actually matter.
The stakes are enormous. The South China Sea carries trillions of dollars in annual trade. It is also home to overlapping territorial claims, militarized artificial islands, and an escalating pattern of confrontations between coast guard vessels and fishing boats. Just before the recent foreign ministers' summit in Manila, Philippine and Chinese personnel clashed physically at Second Thomas Shoal. These incidents—water-cannon attacks, laser interference, dangerous maneuvering at sea—are what negotiators call "gray-zone" tactics. They are designed to intimidate without quite crossing into open warfare. But they also carry the risk of accident, miscalculation, and rapid escalation into something far worse.
The history of these negotiations reveals why speed is dangerous. For more than two decades, ASEAN pushed for a legally binding agreement. China steered the talks toward something weaker: the 2002 Declaration on the Conduct of Parties, which was non-binding and toothless. While diplomats sat at negotiating tables, Beijing dredged seabeds, built artificial islands, and militarized disputed features. The declaration did nothing to stop any of it. Now, with those physical facts on the ground fundamentally altered, China appears eager to finalize a code that could lock in those gains and give Beijing a seat at the table shaping the rules going forward.
A weak agreement, experts warn, could be worse than no agreement at all. The Code of Conduct is not meant to resolve who owns what—territorial claims would remain disputed. Its purpose is narrower and more practical: to establish clear rules against the use of force or intimidation, to commit parties to managing disputes peacefully and in accordance with international law, and to reduce the risk that a single incident spirals into broader conflict. For that to work, the agreement must have teeth. It must be legally binding, not another non-binding declaration. It must cover the entire South China Sea without carve-outs or loopholes that exclude contested areas like the Paracel Islands. It must be grounded firmly in the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, not vague historical claims or selective interpretations. And it must not restrict ASEAN members' freedom to conduct joint military exercises or pursue energy projects with non-regional partners.
Yet the latest joint statement from ASEAN foreign ministers dropped earlier language calling for an "early conclusion," replacing it with a much more cautious formulation. That shift signals the real state of play: major differences remain unresolved after years of negotiation. Whether the agreement should be legally binding. The scope of its geographic coverage. The role of international law. These are not technical details. They are the difference between an agreement that actually constrains behavior and one that merely creates the appearance of progress while changing nothing on the water.
Indonesia holds particular leverage in these talks. As ASEAN's largest member and a major regional power without a direct territorial claim in the disputes, it is uniquely positioned to bridge differences within the bloc while maintaining a firm negotiating stance. The approaching deadline presents a clear choice: settle for a quick diplomatic win or hold out for an agreement that can endure. If ASEAN compromises its core principles in pursuit of speed, it risks sacrificing long-term strategic autonomy and leaving smaller states more exposed. But by holding firm on legal enforceability, comprehensive geographic coverage, and respect for international law, the bloc can still deliver a Code of Conduct that genuinely safeguards Southeast Asia's future and protects freedom of navigation for all.
Notable Quotes
A weak, vague agreement could be worse than no agreement at all— Analysis commentary on the risks of rushing negotiations
Negotiations were making good progress and could conclude by year-end— Philippine Foreign Secretary Tess Lazaro