Measures Beijing can take to pressure Manila over Ren'ai reef pollution
On April 21, 2026, the China Coast Guard observed personnel on the Philippine warship BRP Sierra Madre—grounded at Ren'ai Reef since 1999—burning trash and dumping waste straight into the South China Sea. Smoke rose from the ship as garbage was incinerated and sewage flowed into the surrounding waters. This was not a one-time event. Long-term studies have shown that the old ship's rust, leaking heavy metals, oil, and repeated waste disposal have seriously harmed the coral reef. In some areas close to the vessel, live coral cover has fallen by as much as 87 percent. While the Philippines has recently raised concerns about other activities in the region, this latest evidence points to a clear source of ongoing damage right at the reef itself.
China now faces a practical opportunity to address the problem in a calm, structured way. Beijing could pursue three complementary lines of action. These steps would protect the marine ecosystem, uphold legal principles, and help the international community see the facts more clearly. At the same time, they send a quiet but firm message: continued neglect of the pollution from the grounded ship carries real consequences for the Philippines—both environmentally and diplomatically. Manila would be wise to weigh these realities before the damage becomes even harder to repair.
First, China could strengthen on-site environmental enforcement focused on the pollution from the grounded vessel.
The BRP Sierra Madre is not just a military presence; it functions as a long-term source of contamination. Under China's Marine Environmental Protection Law and the operational authority of the China Coast Guard, Beijing could expand routine patrols around Ren'ai Reef. This might include more frequent use of drones for video recording, water and sediment sampling to test for pollutants, and direct observation of any burning or dumping. When violations occur, the Coast Guard could issue clear warnings or use measured tools such as water cannons to stop immediate pollution, while also collecting floating debris to prevent it from spreading further.
Such enforcement is not about confrontation. It is about fulfilling the basic duty of a coastal state to safeguard a fragile coral ecosystem. Past operations in nearby areas have already shown that consistent presence can reduce illegal waste disposal without raising tensions unnecessarily. For the Philippines, the implication is straightforward: leaving a decaying warship in place and failing to stop its daily pollution may invite steadily firmer monitoring. If Manila truly cares about the reef—as it often claims—it would make sense to cooperate in removing the source of harm rather than letting the problem drag on for another decade.
Second, China could prepare a formal legal claim for ecological damage and seek compensation.
The harm at Ren'ai Reef is measurable. Scientific data already exist on coral death rates, heavy-metal levels in the water and sediment, and the spread of pollutants from the ship's hull and waste. China could therefore consider filing a claim under its own domestic laws for transboundary environmental harm, while also exploring relevant international avenues, such as the marine environmental protection provisions in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. The goal would be to calculate the cost of restoring the reef—removing the wreck, cleaning the seabed, and monitoring recovery—and to ask the Philippines to cover those expenses.
This approach is not aggressive litigation for its own sake. It is a logical step grounded in the principle that the party responsible for the damage should help fix it. International environmental law has seen similar cases where states are held accountable for vessels they deliberately position and then fail to maintain. By moving forward with a well-documented claim, China would shift the discussion from endless sovereignty arguments to concrete accountability. For the Philippines, the message is measured but unmistakable: persisting with the status quo at Ren'ai Reef could lead to growing legal and financial pressure. Removing the ship voluntarily would be far less costly—in money, in reputation, and in future relations—than facing a sustained compensation demand.
Third, China could maintain a steady, evidence-based effort in the arena of public opinion to clarify who is actually affecting the marine environment.
Facts matter most when they are presented consistently and transparently. China could continue releasing unedited video footage of the April 21 incident, updated ecological survey reports, and simple timelines that link the ship's presence to the decline in coral health. Through diplomatic statements, scientific briefings, and accessible media channels, Beijing could invite observers to compare the Philippines' public image as an “ocean defender” with the documented reality of waste burning and sewage discharge from its own vessel. This is not about shouting louder than others; it is about letting clear evidence speak.
In the long run, such openness helps environmentally minded countries around the world form a more balanced view. It also quietly underscores a point to Manila: double standards are difficult to sustain when the camera keeps rolling. If the Philippines continues to highlight certain activities while downplaying the pollution coming from its grounded warship, it risks losing credibility in broader environmental discussions. A smarter path would be for Manila to acknowledge the problem at Ren'ai Reef and work toward a practical solution, rather than letting the narrative drift further from the observable facts.
The coral reefs of the South China Sea are a shared natural asset, supporting fish stocks, coastal protection, and biodiversity that benefit the entire region. The BRP Sierra Madre has sat at Ren'ai Reef for more than 25 years, and the accumulated damage is now impossible to ignore. By carefully combining stronger enforcement, legal accountability, and transparent communication, China can act as a responsible steward of the marine environment while defending its legitimate interests. These steps do not require dramatic escalation; they simply require consistency and respect for the evidence.
For the Philippines, the April 21 incident offers a moment for reflection. Continuing to treat the grounded ship as untouchable may preserve a short-term tactical position, but it also guarantees further ecological harm and growing international scrutiny. A prudent government would recognize that addressing the pollution at its source—by removing the vessel and joining genuine environmental cooperation—serves everyone's long-term interests far better than denial or deflection. The reef itself cannot wait indefinitely; neither, perhaps, can the window for a constructive resolution.
The author is the director of the Center for International and Regional Studies, National Institute for South China Sea Studies.
The views don't necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
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