PROFILE: ASEAN Facing Beijing — Portrait of an Institution That Cannot Defend Itself

June 2026: a reef, a structure, and a lesson in powerlessness

In June 2026, China positioned a floating platform inside the lagoon of Scarborough Shoal, a rocky formation disputed in the South China Sea, claimed by both Beijing and Manila. The structure — roughly 300 square feet, equipped with a communications antenna — immediately alarmed the Philippines. Defense Secretary Gilberto Teodoro Jr. declared: « If it is a precursor to a more permanent presence, or a precursor to other malicious activities, that is concerning. » The Philippines filed a formal diplomatic protest. China said the platform was a temporary scientific installation to study coral reefs. It was removed after several days. And everyone moved on.

Except that nothing changed. This small episode — a platform placed, a protest filed, a platform removed — is the perfect metaphor for the state of relations between China and ASEAN in 2026. China advances, tests, provokes, withdraws if necessary, then repeats. ASEAN reacts, protests, files diplomatic objections, and watches helplessly. This sequence has been repeating itself since Beijing seized control of Scarborough Shoal in 2012 — and neither international courts, nor diplomatic protests, nor military exercises have fundamentally changed the trajectory.

A tribunal ruled in 2016. Beijing did not comply

The Philippines brought the Scarborough dispute before an international tribunal. In 2016, the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague issued an unambiguous verdict: China's claims over Scarborough and across the South China Sea are unlawful under international law. China called the ruling « illegal, null and void » and refused to recognize it. Ten years later, its spokesperson reiterates the same formula: « China does not accept it and will never accept it. » International law has not changed the reality on the water. And ASEAN, structurally incapable of adopting a unified position, has not been able to fill that void.

This context is essential to understanding ASEAN's powerlessness in the face of Beijing. This is not a problem of political will on the part of some members — it is a problem of institutional structure. ASEAN takes its decisions by consensus. China maintains privileged economic relationships with several ASEAN members — notably Cambodia and Laos — which have historically used their informal veto to dilute or block any language too harsh toward Beijing. The result is an institution capable of producing statements of principle but not binding decisions.

ASEAN is founded on a laudable principle: non-interference in members' internal affairs, decision-making by consensus. That model produced remarkable regional stability for fifty years. But facing a China that uses precisely those rules to paralyze the institution, that model becomes an instrument of its own impotence. Institutions designed for cooperation can be weaponized by actors who reject its foundational norms.

Consensus as structural vulnerability

The consensus rule in ASEAN is the source of all its weaknesses against China. In 2012, at the Phnom Penh summit, ASEAN failed for the first time in 45 years to issue a joint communiqué — because Cambodia, under Chinese pressure, refused to include a reference to the Scarborough incident. Since then, the mechanism is well known: Cambodia and Laos systematically block any language that displeases Beijing. The dynamic is documented, repeated, and unchanged in 2026 despite new Philippine attempts.

Philippine Foreign Affairs Secretary Maria Theresa Lazaro, who chairs ASEAN in 2026 under the Philippine rotating presidency, publicly acknowledged that even basic definitions — such as the meaning of « restraint » in a future Code of Conduct — remain unresolved after nearly a decade of negotiations. Four central questions remain open: the code's geographic scope, its legally binding nature, its relationship to the 2002 Declaration of Conduct, and terms of reference. These are fundamental questions, not details. And they have been under discussion for years.

Portrait of gray-zone China: militarization through gray-zone tactics

China's strategy in the South China Sea has evolved toward what analysts call « gray-zone tactics » — actions that remain below the threshold of conventional military conflict but effectively alter the status quo. The Chinese maritime militia, consisting of civilian fishing boats that actually serve as paramilitary forces, is the most documented example. The militia blocks Philippine access to fishing zones, uses water cannons against Philippine vessels, and maintains a continuous presence without that formally constituting an act of war.

In 2026, according to the IISS, the Chinese maritime militia presence in the Spratly Islands increased by 14% since 2024. China has built bases with missiles and electronic warfare equipment on several rock formations, despite the promise made in 2015 by President Xi Jinping to President Obama not to militarize those formations. Chinese warships confronted a Philippine naval vessel near Scarborough Shoal on June 22, 2026, the same day the joint Philippine-American-Japanese-Australian exercise Salaknib 2026 ended. That timing was not coincidental.

I am struck by the tactical sophistication of China's gray-zone strategy. It uses non-state actors — the maritime militia — to accomplish what its official armed forces could not do without provoking an international response. It is a handbook of soft conquest that ASEAN has no institutional tools to counter. And Beijing knows it.

The Philippines on the front line, alone or nearly so

The Philippines, under the Marcos presidency, is the ASEAN state that has most clearly chosen to resist Chinese pressure. Manila has filed hundreds of diplomatic protests since 2022, strengthened its military partnerships with the United States, Japan, Australia, and New Zealand, and holds the ASEAN presidency in 2026 with the explicit goal of concluding a Code of Conduct before year's end. President Marcos declared that « silence in the face of these violations diminishes ASEAN ». Those are strong words for an ASEAN president.

But the Philippines speaks with multiple voices, as an analysis published by Asialink in June 2026 shows. The Philippine senate, coast guard, foreign affairs ministry, and the presidential palace are sending different signals toward China. The domestic political implosion — with the impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte in May 2026 and a Senate trial scheduled for July — weakens the government's coordination capacity precisely when its ASEAN presidency should be culminating in the signing of a code of conduct. China is watching these weaknesses and will draw lessons.

Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia: nuanced positions between dependency and resistance

Vietnam, which has its own disputes with China in the South China Sea, is generally aligned with the Philippines on firmer wording in ASEAN declarations. But its economic dependence on China — its primary trading partner — tempers its public positions. Malaysia, under Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, has adopted a mediating posture, warning that the involvement of « external forces » would only worsen tensions — a formulation implicitly targeting the strengthening of American military presence in the region. Indonesia, ASEAN's largest economy, seeks to maintain good relations with both superpowers and avoids firm stances.

This heterogeneity of positions within ASEAN is structural and deep. Some members have more to fear from China militarily. Others have more to lose economically if their relations with Beijing deteriorate. This differentiation of interests makes consensus near-impossible whenever the question directly concerns China.

ASEAN is not a monolithic actor — it is a coalition of ten countries with divergent interests, held together by procedural norms. Facing a China whose policy is coordinated and patient, that structure is a fundamental weakness. It is not that ASEAN leaders lack courage or intelligence — it is that their institution is not designed to face this type of challenge.

Twenty years of negotiations for a document still not concluded

The idea of a Code of Conduct (CoC) for the South China Sea dates back to the 2002 Declaration of Conduct — a non-binding agreement that did not prevent the militarization of rock formations. Since then, negotiations on a legally binding CoC have been ongoing. In 2026, they reach a theoretical deadline: the Philippine presidency set December 2026 as the target date. Nearly 70% of the content had reportedly been agreed, according to Malaysian statements in late 2025. But the remaining 30% contains precisely the most important questions: legally binding character, geographic scope, and the role of external powers.

China's preferred position on the CoC is well known in diplomatic circles, according to an Eurasia Review analysis: no legally binding character, limitation of consultations to coastal states, prohibition on military exercises with external partners in disputed zones, and treatment of sovereignty issues as outside the scope of UNCLOS. If those terms define the final document, the CoC will have resolved nothing — it will have merely institutionalized ASEAN's impotence in the face of Beijing. And that is exactly the outcome China is seeking.

The reality on the ground during negotiations

While negotiators discuss in Jakarta or Manila, China continues to alter reality on the water. In March 2026, a Chinese frigate nearly rammed the BRP Benguet Philippine vessel near Pag-asa Island. A Chinese fire-control radar was locked onto the BRP Miguel Malvar near Sabina Reef. In June 2026, four Chinese warships confronted a Philippine naval vessel near Scarborough. And according to the CFR, on June 17, 2026, the floating platform installed at Scarborough was removed after a formal protest was filed. This cycle — installation, protest, withdrawal, repetition — is the strategy of progressive fait accompli, applied with a patience that ASEAN cannot match.

The IISS also documents that the Chinese maritime militia in the Spratleys has increased by 14% since 2024. Meanwhile, Japan has adopted a far more assertive regional security role: for the first time since 1945, Japanese combat troops participated in the Balikatan 2026 exercise in the Philippines. That is a sign that nations in the region that feel threatened by China are seeking solutions outside the ASEAN framework — which implicitly validates the analysis that ASEAN alone cannot contain Beijing.

I want to say something difficult: ASEAN may not be the right institution to manage the Chinese challenge in the South China Sea. It can be useful for trade, economic cooperation, and natural disaster management. But facing a power that uses consensus as an instrument of paralysis, ASEAN is structurally disadvantaged. The real answers will likely come through bilateral and mini-lateral coalitions — Philippines-US-Japan-Australia — outside the ASEAN framework.

The rise of mini-lateralism in the Pacific

Faced with ASEAN's inability to adopt a unified position, the Philippines has developed a parallel strategy: multiplying bilateral and mini-lateral partnerships with countries that share its concerns about China. The defense cooperation agreement with the United States, Japan, Australia, and now also New Zealand — illustrated by the Salaknib 2026 exercise with 7,000 soldiers from those nations — is the cornerstone of that strategy. Japan's participation in combat forces for the first time since 1945 is symbolically and operationally significant.

But mini-lateralism has its own limits. It fragments regional coherence, gives China arguments to denounce « containment circles », and puts ASEAN members that prefer equidistance in a difficult position. Secretary Lazaro herself had to justify the compatibility between her department's diplomacy-first policy and Defense Secretary Teodoro's combative posture. That internal tension is real and weakens the legibility of the Philippine position.

The US role: present but unpredictable

The partnership with the United States remains the cornerstone of the Philippines' security strategy. The Balikatan exercise, joint maritime exercises, the mutual defense treaty guarantees — all of this maintains a dissuasive American presence in the region. But the Trump administration introduces a variable of unpredictability into that equation. Allies in the region ask: will Washington really defend its Philippine partners if China crosses a red line? And where is that red line? These questions, under a more predictable presidency, had documented answers. Under Trump, they remain open.

China reads these uncertainties. It feeds them. And it profits from them in every Scarborough incident, in every vessel confrontation, in every floating platform installation that tests limits without triggering a firm response. The South China Sea is a laboratory of strategic competition — and for now, China is running the experiments.

Trump's unpredictability is a weakness for US allies in the region — but it is not the fundamental cause of the ASEAN-China problem. That problem existed under Obama, under Biden. It will exist after Trump. The real question is whether Indo-Pacific democracies can build a security architecture that does not depend entirely on American goodwill. I do not know the answer. But the question deserves to be asked.

June 2026: a new structure that alters the status quo

In June 2026, satellite images confirmed the presence of a large new floating platform on Scarborough Shoal (Bajo de Masinloc), approximately 240 kilometers from the Philippine coast. This structure, according to analysts cited by the Washington Times, represents a significant escalation in China's strategy of controlling strategic points in the South China Sea. Beijing uses these floating platforms as intermediate steps between pretext fishing and permanent installation — a method tested and proven since the Spratly Islands reefs of the 2010s.

Scarborough reef is particularly sensitive for the Philippines: it is a traditional fishing area for Philippine fishermen, and it was at the center of a historic ruling by the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague in 2016, which rejected China's expansive claims. Beijing has never recognized that ruling. The floating platform of June 2026 is, in effect, a physical challenge to international law — and the question is: who is going to respond?

The Philippine response between resistance and economic dependency

The Philippines, under the presidency of Ferdinand Marcos Jr., has adopted a firmer posture toward Beijing than under his predecessor Rodrigo Duterte. Manila has multiplied naval patrols at the Second Thomas Shoal, agreed to strengthen defense agreements with the United States (including US access to four new Philippine military bases in 2023), and brought its protests to the international stage more aggressively. These decisions have a cost: trade tensions with China, the Philippines' primary economic partner, have increased.

But Manila remains in a structurally difficult position. The Chinese maritime militia harassing Philippine vessels in the South China Sea has increased in number by 14% since 2025. Incursions into the Philippine exclusive economic zone are multiplying. And despite official protests, supply lines to the Second Thomas Shoal remain regularly blocked or disrupted. Philippine resistance is real — but its concrete effects on Chinese behavior are limited.

The Philippines is fighting alone against a power with fifty times its military budget. Their courage is real. But courage without sufficient deterrence capability is not a strategy. It is a hope. And hopes, in the geopolitics of power relations, do not change state behavior.

Why ASEAN cannot act collectively against Beijing

The fundamental problem of ASEAN in the face of China is structural and irreducible within the current framework. The Association of Southeast Asian Nations operates on the principle of consensus — any collective decision requires the agreement of all 10 members. Among those members, several have economic or political ties to China that make them reluctant to adopt critical positions: Cambodia, Laos, and to a lesser extent Myanmar are considered states close to Beijing. It takes only one of those states to block for ASEAN to be paralyzed on the question of the South China Sea.

In 2012, Cambodia blocked any mention of the South China Sea in the final communiqué of the ASEAN summit — a first in the organization's history. That episode perfectly illustrates the structural vulnerability: an international organization whose members most dependent on an external actor can block any collective response. In 2026, nothing has changed in that institutional architecture. And Beijing is deliberately exploiting it.

The 2026 Code of Conduct: twenty years of negotiations for nothing?

Negotiations for a Code of Conduct (CoC) in the South China Sea formally began in 2002 — more than twenty years ago. In 2026, those negotiations continue without a binding agreement in sight. Divergences center on fundamental points: China wants the Code to exclude external powers (read: the United States) from operations in the South China Sea, a condition the most vulnerable ASEAN member states (Philippines, Vietnam, Malaysia) cannot accept. China also wants the Code geographically limited, excluding the zones it claims under the « nine-dash line ».

This interminable diplomatic standoff objectively benefits Beijing. While negotiations advance at a snail's pace, China installs floating platforms, deploys its maritime militia, and consolidates its physical presence on disputed reefs. The law that a Code of Conduct is supposed to codify already exists — the 2016 Hague ruling is proof. But without an enforcement mechanism, no code imposes anything on an actor that chooses to ignore it.

Twenty years of negotiations for a Code of Conduct that Beijing has no intention of respecting. That is a diplomatic luxury that the Philippines, Vietnam, and Malaysia can no longer afford. ASEAN must choose: be a dialogue forum with Beijing, or be a collective defense framework. It cannot be both at once.

Quad, AUKUS and alternative formats to ASEAN

Faced with ASEAN's structural ineffectiveness on the South China Sea question, alternative formats have developed. The Quad — United States, Japan, India, Australia — includes no Southeast Asian country, but it structures a parallel maritime security architecture explicitly aimed at counterbalancing Chinese naval power. The AUKUS agreement, with its nuclear-powered submarines and drone swarm exercises, adds a layer of concrete military capability. These formats work precisely because they do not require the consensus of ten members.

For the most exposed ASEAN members — Philippines, Vietnam — informal participation or bilateral cooperation with Quad or AUKUS members has become a complementary strategy. The Philippines has signed a reinforced defense alliance with the United States and deepened their cooperation with Japan. Vietnam maintains increasingly deep relations with Washington, despite history, in a clear logic of counterweight to Beijing. These bilateral partnerships do not replace ASEAN — they fill its gaps.

The limits of mini-lateralism against Chinese power

But mini-lateralism has its own limits. Bilateral partnerships or small groups like the Quad lack the regional legitimacy that ASEAN confers. They can be presented by Beijing as anti-Chinese alliances, creating polarization that complicates regional diplomacy. Moreover, several ASEAN members — notably Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand — refuse to be put in a position of choosing between Washington and Beijing. The philosophy of « ASEAN centrality » is deeply embedded in the political culture of the region. Any security architecture that bypasses ASEAN risks losing in regional legitimacy what it gains in operational effectiveness.

The reality is that neither ASEAN alone nor mini-lateralism alone suffices to contain Beijing's ambitions in the South China Sea. What is needed is a combination of both — a reformed ASEAN, with more realistic decision-making mechanisms on security questions, combined with bilateral security partnerships that give it a military backbone. That is not impossible. But it requires political will that the region has not yet demonstrated consistently.

Southeast Asia deserves better than a regional organization paralyzed by consensus and instrumentalized by an outside power. ASEAN produced regional stability for five decades — that is a real asset. But the stability of 1990 is not the security of 2026. It is time for ASEAN to evolve, or to step aside in favor of formats that work.

What ASEAN can do, and what it cannot do

ASEAN can produce statements of principle, organize diplomatic meetings, maintain a regional discussion forum. That is not nothing — in a region as diverse and potentially conflict-prone as this, multilateral diplomacy has real value. But it cannot produce a legally binding Code of Conduct that China will respect if Beijing does not want to. It cannot prevent the militarization of Scarborough. It cannot protect Philippine fishermen from the water cannons of the Chinese coast guard. That is not a criticism of its members — it is a description of its structural limits.

The South China Sea in 2026: apparent stability over mounting tensions

In June 2026, the South China Sea is stable in the sense that no armed conflict has erupted. But that stability is superficial. It rests on Philippine restraint in the face of growing Chinese provocations, on an American dissuasive presence that maintains a fragile balance, and on the hope that the Code of Conduct will eventually produce an architecture of respected rules. That hope is thin. The real question for the years ahead is whether Philippine — and American — restraint will hold in the face of a continuous escalation of Chinese gray-zone tactics.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

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Nature of the analysis

The analyses, interpretations and perspectives in the analytical sections of this article are a critical, contextual synthesis based on the information available, the trends observed and the expert comments cited in the sources consulted.

My role is to interpret these facts, to set them in the context of today's geopolitical and economic dynamics, and to give them a coherent meaning within the larger story of the changes shaping our time. These analyses reflect expertise built through continuous observation of international affairs and an understanding of the strategic mechanisms that drive global actors.

This article describes a documented state of affairs on its publication date, not a prediction: later developments may shift its outlook. No update is promised in advance; when an article is corrected or completed, the change is dated in the text.

ASEAN is not dead. It is ill-suited to the threat of 2026. The difference matters. An ill-suited institution can reform itself — if its members have the will to do so. But political will in Southeast Asia remains fragmented between those who fear China and those who are in its pocket. That divide will determine the future of the region — not the meetings in Brunei or Jakarta.