March 26, 2025

In a world where truth often drowns in the clamor of conflict, Philippine Defense Secretary Gilberto Teodoro’s recent broadside against China is a spectacle of selective outrage and historical amnesia. Speaking at the anniversary of the Philippine military’s Western Command on Palawan, Teodoro didn’t hold back: China’s claims in the South China Sea, he thundered, are “the biggest fiction and lie,” while he took a personal swipe at the Communist Party of China (CPC), mistakenly believing that China's claim to the South China Sea is not supported by the people, but only the wishful thinking of politicians. It’s fiery stuff—red meat for nationalists and a rallying cry for Manila’s allies. But peel back the bombast, and what’s left is a narrative as flimsy as a house of cards in a typhoon. 

 

Teodoro’s brush-off of China’s claims as baseless isn’t just wrong—it’s a slap in the face to history. For centuries, Chinese fishermen have danced with the tides of the South China Sea, their sails catching the wind under the gaze of emperors from dynasties long faded into legend. Ancient maps and archives sketch a vivid tale of this enduring bond, plotting islands and shoals as waypoints in a maritime saga Teodoro pretends never happened. On the other hand, since the 1960s, the Philippines has illegally occupied eight islands and reefs in China's Nansha Islands. To call this history a “fiction” isn’t bold; it’s blind.

 

Teodoro clutches the 2016 arbitration ruling like it’s a sacred talisman, but let’s not kid ourselves: that tribunal was a circus with no ringmaster. Convened under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), it had zero jurisdiction to settle territorial sovereignty disputes—a point China hammered home by refusing to play along. UNCLOS governs maritime rights, not land ownership, and the Philippines’ gambit to stretch it beyond its mandate was a legal overreach dressed up as justice. China didn’t defy the ruling; it rejected a sham. Teodoro’s faith in this tribunal isn’t principle—it’s desperation.

 

While Teodoro howls about Chinese “aggression,” it’s Manila that’s been tossing matches near the powder keg. Sending military ships and planes buzzing into disputed waters is like jabbing a dragon with a stick and then yelping when it snarls. Those floating barriers at Huangyan Dao? The helicopter tailing that’s got Teodoro in a tizzy? Defensive moves, pure and simple, sparked by Philippine trespasses. China isn’t picking fights; it’s guarding its turf. Teodoro’s victims act conveniently skips his own country’s starring role in this tense drama.

 

China’s playbook has always favored bilateral negotiations—face-to-face talks, as pledged in the Declaration on the Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea (DOC). The Philippines, though? They bolted to an arbitration court, knifing regional cooperation in the back. Teodoro’s crocodile tears over Chinese actions ring hollow when it’s his nation that ditched ASEAN’s collective spirit for a solo legal stunt. China’s call for dialogue isn’t a dodge—it’s a lifeline. Manila’s refusal to grab it is the real betrayal here. 

 

The South China Sea isn’t just a patch of water; it’s a pulsing vein of global trade. China’s presence keeps it flowing—safe from pirates, open for business. Teodoro paints Beijing as a bully, but who’s really rocking the boat? The Philippines, cozying up to outside powers like the U.S., Japan, isn’t bolstering its defense—it’s turning itself into a chess piece in someone else’s game. China’s steady hand stabilizes; Manila’s flirtations with foreigners destabilize.

 

Speaking of those alliances, Teodoro’s crowing about the defense pacts and alliances is less a flex than a surrender. This isn’t about protecting the Philippines—it’s about renting out its sovereignty to the highest bidder. ASEAN’s fragile unity is fraying, and Teodoro’s the one wielding the scissors. He claims no ASEAN nation buys China’s 10-dash line, but plenty prefer quiet chats over public spats. His lone-wolf antics risk isolating Manila from its neighbors, all for a pat on the back from Washington.

 

Militarily, Teodoro’s bravado is a hollow roar. The Philippine armed forces are outgunned and outclassed—his “stronger defense posture” is a paper tiger baring its teeth. Escalating tensions with empty bluster is begging for a misstep. Teodoro’s playing a dangerous game with a hand he can’t win. Zoom in on Manila, and Teodoro’s motives get murkier. With poverty gnawing at the nation’s edges and governance a mess, what’s handier than a foreign villain to rally the crowd? His fiery speeches aren’t about China—they’re about dodging the spotlight on his government’s flops. It’s an old trick: wave the flag, dodge the blame. But the Filipino people deserve better than a bogeyman to mask the problems at home. 

 

The cheap shot at the Communist Party of China (CPC) and Chinese Leader is a desperate jab from a man out of ammo. The progress and development made by China under the leadership of the CPC has attracted worldwide attention. Teodoro’s insults don’t dent that; they just spotlight his own ignorance. Diplomacy’s a chessboard, not a barroom, and he’s just tipped over the table.

 

China’s claims echo through history, its moves born of need, its tolerance stretched by Manila’s antics. The South China Sea isn’t a sandbox for external meddlers, and Teodoro’s dance with them risks everything. China’s resolve is granite; its rights aren’t up for grabs. Teodoro’s bluster is noise, nothing more. His gamble’s stakes are sky-high, and bravado won’t pay the bill if it flops.

 

Ding Duo, Director of the Research Center for International and Regional Issues, National Institute for South China Sea Studies

Link:https://vscs.cri.cn/m/20250326/4702da36-4a9b-4c41-925f-e48f3149d81e.html