Ocean Governance Topic Week

By Ian Birdwell

Introduction 

This June has been unsettling for the Arctic. Russia experienced three events the Arctic Council has been dreading for years: an oil spill, an outbreak of wildfires, and the hottest Arctic temperature record being set with a 100-degree Fahrenheit day in Siberia. However, Russia is not alone in addressing these events. The Arctic Council, the Arctic’s premier multilateral organization, has sought to prepare the region and the globe for the eventuality of a warmer Arctic.

These recent events bring into focus both the work the Council has done to promote regional governmental frameworks and the long road that remains ahead for fulfilling its mission of monitoring the Arctic environment. The Council has not been idle since its founding in 1996 and is continually promoting active measures to ensure the Arctic environment is protected as the region warms and opens to increased economic activity, with a host of working groups, agreements, and policy recommendations coming forward to address concerns like oil spills and sea ice retreat. This summer represents a major test of the Arctic Council as these crises come at a time when the Arctic Council is being pulled in directions it would rather avoid. Tensions are rising between the two most powerful states on the Council, the United States and Russia, and calls to direct the Council to address rising Arctic militarization have grown from prominent leadership.

Historically, the Council has tempered its focus on issues it can resolve and gain regional coordination on, ranging from environmental research to new regional agreements, with each state of the Council doing their part to empower the institution to meet those communal goals through the acknowledgement of the Council’s limitations. With consideration of those limitations weakening as the region experiences its worst June yet, the Arctic Council finds itself in newly tense territory.

It becomes critical to examine this June from the perspective of improving Arctic Ocean governance to tackle these emerging environmental issues. Given the track record of the Arctic Council in developing regional frameworks, the solution lies with it and its member states. Particularly, acknowledging the Council’s limitations and its adopted role would enable the Council to do the job it has been designed to do in terms of providing coordination on scientific research, regulations, and indigenous representation instead of becoming another institutional battleground for international competition. Thus enabled, the Council would be able to further the quiet lead it has maintained on Arctic issues for more than 20 years in creating mutually acknowledged regulations for the Arctic’s waterways and in strengthening the overall international maritime regime.

Regional Facilitator and Forum

The Arctic Council began from efforts to preserve the Arctic environment in 1996, and today research coordination across all members and observers of the Arctic Council remains paramount. This marks the first area where members could assist in developing governmental frameworks for the Arctic region by empowering the Council through reaffirming its mission to coordinate regional scientific research. Scientific research coordinated by the Council enables member states to address emerging issues, act on new opportunities, and protect their communities.

The clearest example of such information dissemination is linked to the publication of the 2004 Arctic Climate Impact Assessment which renewed global interest in the potential of a warm Arctic and the plight of the unique environment of the polar region. This research is not glamorous and does not yield immediate results, yet it is fundamental to the establishment of effective regional policies for all member states in response to the increasing changes of the Arctic. Particularly, coordinating research enables a broader understanding of the regional transformation, a sharing of ideas and perspectives, and has stood the test of tensions in maintaining relationships in spite of broader international disagreements. In effect, the Council’s push toward scientific research has enabled states mostly concerned with the broader global environment to maintain Arctic policy flexibility without radically shifting their own domestic policies. This stability of research coordination could be disrupted by continued calls for the Council to address regional militarization, which in turn could negatively impact the collection and coordination of research within the Council’s network. Thus, recognizing the limitations of the Council in addressing emerging issues regarding militarization enables the continued functioning of scientific coordination and diplomacy in the high north and preserves domestic policymaking for Council members.

One of the most recognizable aspects of the Arctic Council is the inclusion of a variety of indigenous people’s organizations from throughout the Arctic region. This marks the second area where the Arctic Council could assist in furthering Arctic maritime governance as it has been critical in engaging the local indigenous communities. Climate change is ravaging the Arctic landscape in different ways, so the Arctic Council has been dedicated to ensuring the ways of life of the regional indigenous communities are preserved as best as possible and their voices are heard through the Arctic Council’s Permanent Participant organizations and the Indigenous People’s Secretariat. This engagement with the indigenous community has played a large part in the overall regional engagement of the Arctic Council, with the Council supporting critical issues like health, economic, and education initiatives alongside cultural preservation programs. In turn, these communities provide member states with experts offering deep knowledge of the local environment, climate conditions, and real-time impacts of climate change throughout the region, giving the Council critical on-the-ground information regarding how regional warming is impacting the Arctic.

As the Council is pushed to address issues like militarization and other dicey political issues, the indigenous communities of the Arctic could be pushed into the background as political capital is expended to address narrower national interests. This could inhibit the ability of the Council to address rising maritime issues like the endangerment of marine environments due to increased human activity or climate change, issues where indigenous communities are the most vulnerable and most aware of in the changing climate. Thus, there is the risk of the Council being unable to address problems noticed by indigenous populations if it focuses on addressing militarization or other issues heavily tied to the competing national interests of member states.

One of the crowning achievements of the Arctic Council in the past decade has been the establishment of a series of maritime shipping reports and regulations which were adopted by the International Maritime Organization as the Polar Code in 2017. This is another area where the Arctic Council could further Arctic maritime governance. The Arctic Council’s history of getting members to come together to address communal issues related to environmental management and the prevention of major disasters has been predicated upon putting cooperation above national interest, and this has served as the foundation of the current Arctic regulatory regime, with several agreements and working groups focused on those concerns.

Still, the urge to promote national interests has not been dispelled, as evident with the Ilulissat Declaration of 2008, but it has been tempered within the confines of the Council throughout the history of the organization. Unfortunately, several high-profile declarations of concern regarding Arctic militarization within the structures of the Council serve to push out conversations regarding the preparedness of states in dealing with Arctic climate calamities and the preparedness of the Council to provide necessary assistance to states in need. This overconcern with national interests distracts from the central tenets of the Arctic Council and makes it significantly more difficult for the Council to maintain cooperative avenues for assistance with surging issues like sea ice retreat, migration, oil spills, and forest fires as some nations struggle to establish a vague dominance of the Council. Reducing pressure on the Council as the body to address issues like militarization would assist in maintaining its role as a body providing regulatory guidance to member states experiencing the most rapid transformation.

Conclusion

The Arctic Council is the best international body to begin addressing the complex issues surrounding maritime governance in the waterways of the Arctic region by developing and codifying communal responses to regional issues. In order for the Council to pursue such policies effectively it must have a community of members willing to work together and acknowledge the limitations imposed on the Council which have so far enabled its effectiveness for more than 20 years.

Ian Birdwell is a Ph.D. Student at Old Dominion University’s Graduate Program in International Studies. His research focuses on the exploration of the motivations behind the pursuit of Arctic security, how identity factors into the cultivation of regional habits, and the impacts of emerging trade routes on global power dynamics.

Featured Image: “North Pole” by Christopher Michael via Wikimedia Commons

Ocean Governance Topic Week

By Walker D. Mills

Introduction

Atlantic Cod vary in color from grey to greenish-brown and can grow to be as large as five feet long (though this is uncommon). The fish have long been a staple of diets across the North Atlantic and fishermen have crisscrossed those waters from the Grand Banks off Newfoundland to the North Sea to bring back cod to their home markets.

Not once, but three times in the 20^th Century, cod was almost the causus belli between Iceland and the United Kingdom in a string of events referred to collectively as the “Cod Wars.”¹ The Cod Wars, taken together, make clear that issues of maritime governance and access to maritime resources can spark inter-state conflict even among allied nations. Fishing rights can be core issues that maritime states will vigorously defend.

Fighting for Fish

In the spring of 1958, following the conclusion of several treaties resulting from the first United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS I), the Icelandic government announced that it would extent its territorial waters out to 12 nautical miles.² Just a few years earlier, they had extended their territorial waters from three to four miles and caused a row with the British government, sometimes called the “Proto-Cod War.” The 1958 12-mile increase was much larger and almost singly directed at the British fishing fleet that trawled Icelandic waters for cod.

The United Kingdom, which had long supported only a three-mile territorial waters limit, was incensed. They reminded the Icelanders that they had been fishing cod in Icelandic coastal waters since at least the 15^th Century.³ A large fleet of UK-based fishing trawlers regularly operated off the coast of Iceland, and well within 12 miles of the coast. This cod fleet was supported by processing plants and retailers back in the UK and was well-represented not only in the British Parliament but also well-regarded in public opinion.

In the months between the announcement and the coming enforcement of the extension it was not clear exactly what Iceland intended to do if the British trawlers did not leave voluntarily. Iceland had no navy and the Icelandic coast guard had only seven small ships with one gun each – almost all under 100 tons.⁴ In contrast, the Royal Navy was regarded as one of the world’s most powerful navies and the Icelandic coast was less than two days sailing away from Royal Navy bases in the United Kingdom.

The First Cod War started on September 1st, 1958. Icelandic coastguardsmen sought to arrest and impound any British trawlers within their new 12-mile limit. The Royal Navy established zones patrolled by frigates and destroyers to protect their fisherman. Their first clash came the following day on September 2^nd, when Icelandic coastguardsmen from the Thor boarded the British trawler Northern Foam which had strayed out of the zone protected by British warships. But the Northern Foam was able to send a distress signal to one of the Royal Navy ships and soon a counter-boarding party from the HMS Eastbound boarded the Northern Foam as well and convinced the Icelanders to leave.⁵

The Icelanders, however, were not backing down. The health of their offshore cod fisheries had begun to significantly decline with as much as a 15 percent reduction in cod catch over the previous three years despite increases in the size of the fishing fleet.⁶ After two and-a-half years the British government backed down and acquiesced to the new 12-mile limit.

Ten years later the conflict began anew when Iceland announced that it would be extending the 12-mile limit to 50 miles effective on the first of September 1972. This “Second Cod War” was more intense and more violent, with multiple incidents of Icelandic coast guard vessels firing at or near British trawlers and many incidents of ramming by Royal Navy warships, British tugboats, and Icelandic coast guard vessels.⁷ The Second Cod War also saw the use of a new weapon in the anti-trawler fight by the Icelandic coast guard – a device for cutting trawler fishing nets. The coast guard vessels could fire a hook across the trawl lines of a fishing vessel and when they reeled their hook back in it would cut the net free of the trawler. Thus the fisherman would lose not only their catch but also their net.⁸

It was also during the Second Cod War that Iceland threatened to leave NATO (it was a founding member) and expel U.S. troops from Iceland, specifically their key base at Keflavik.^9,10 This threat revealed the significant leverage that Iceland had in dealing with NATO despite not having a standing military. Iceland’s contribution to the alliance is its key location astride the North Atlantic, roughly halfway between Greenland and the United Kingdom. The nature of Iceland’s contribution to the alliance meant that it could not be replaced by another member or any other combination of members. Also, an Iceland out of NATO could have possibly looked toward the Soviet Union and Warsaw Pact to be its new security guarantor.

In November 1975 Iceland initiated the Third Cod War when it unilaterally extended its territorial waters out to 200 miles. During the Third Cod War Iceland again threatened to withdraw from NATO and severed diplomatic relations with Britain for a time. British warships again clashed with Icelandic vessels, and collisions – both intentional and not – were common. Wire cutters were also used again to cut trawler nets. The dispute was again ended on terms favorable to Iceland in 1976, where Britain accepted the new 200-mile limit and received only limited and temporary fishing rights in return.¹¹

Lessons for Today

If the Cod Wars are relevant today, then what are the important lessons decades after they have been settled? Three takeaways stand out. First, smaller, less powerful nations can successfully contest maritime disputes below the threshold of war. The Icelandic coast guard was successful in keeping British trawlers out of Icelandic waters – except for the three specific patrol zones established by the Royal Navy. Forcing the trawlers to operate in specific, tightly controlled zones significantly reduced their ability to fish and the size of their catch which were the ultimate goals of the extension of the territorial waters claim.

https://gfycat.com/alivethickhackee

Icelandic gunboat collides with British frigate in March 1976 (Footage via Associated Press)

Second, a critical part of the conflict was the asymmetry in will. Iceland, a much smaller nation than Britain with far fewer resources, simply had more willpower. In the words of Mark Kurlansky, author of Cod: A Biography of the Fish that Changed the World, “The Icelandic government was shockingly tough.”¹² They were even willing to go so far as to threaten to withdraw from NATO and kick U.S. troops out of Iceland to preserve the health of their fisheries. Britain, despite having dramatically more power overall, did not have the political will to fully employ their naval power against the Icelandic coastguard or the leverage to counter the Icelandic threat to leave NATO. The British Foreign Secretary and the Secretary for Fisheries and Food acknowledged that “NATO’s defenses in the North-Atlantic and the balance of power were more important than the interests of the Humber trawler owners and fishermen.”¹³

Third, issues of maritime governance and control (like fishing rights) can be seen as core issues to the nations concerned and can potentially lead to war. If this lesson comes as a surprise, it shouldn’t. Wars have been fought over what are purely maritime disputes since the Trojan War.¹⁴ Some authors have argued that because of the liberal ties between Iceland and the Britain full-scale war was simply not possible, but the possibility of armed confrontation was surely close to the minds of those involved.¹⁵

The United States, China, and their respective partners would do well to remember the Cod Wars as tensions rise in the Indo-Pacific where fishing access and maritime boundaries are central to several ongoing disputes.

Walker D. Mills is a Marine infantry officer currently serving as an exchange officer in Cartagena, Colombia. He has previously authored commentary for CIMSEC, the Marine Corps Gazette, Proceedings, West Point’s Modern War Institute and Defense News.

Endnotes

1. The name is attributed to the British journalist Llewellyn Chanter who covered the first Cod War for The Daily Telegraph. Gudmundur J. Gudmundsson, “The Cod and the Cold War,” Scandinavian Journal of History, Vol. 31, No. 2, (June 2006) 97.

2. Gudni Thorlacius Johannesson, “How ‘cod war’ came: the origins of the Anglo-Icelandic fisheries dispute, 1958–61,” Historical Research, vol. 77, no. 198 (November 2004) 557.

3. Gudmundsson, “The Cod and the Cold War,” 100.

4. Mark Kurlansky, Cod: A Biography of the Fish that Changed the World, (New York, NY: Penguin Books, 1997) 162.

5. “Richard Nelsson, “Iceland v Britain: the cod wars begin – archive, September 1958,” The Guardian (7 September 2018) https://www.theguardian.com/business/from-the-archive-blog/2018/sep/07/first-cod-war-iceland-britain-fish-1958.

6. Kurlansky, Cod, 161.

7. Ibid, 166.

8. Sverrir Steinsson, “The Cod Wars: a re-analysis,” European Security, (March 2016) 4.

9. Steinsson, “The Cod Wars: a re-analysis,” 4.

10. John W. Young and John Kent, International Relations Since 1945: A Global History, 2^nd edition (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2013) 86.

11. Steinsson, “The Cod Wars: a re-analysis,” 4.

12. Kurlansky, Cod, 166.

13. Gudmundsson, “The Cod and the Cold War,” 101.

14. Trevor Bryce, “The Trojan War,” chapter in The Oxford Handbook of the Bronze Age Aegean, (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2010) 480.

15. Sverrir Steinsson, “Do Liberal ties pacify? A study of the Cod Wars,” Cooperation and Conflict, (June 2017) 2-3.

Featured Image: HMS Scylla and Odinn collision during the Second Cod War (Wikimedia Commons)

Ocean Governance Topic Week

By Matthew Ader

Illegal, unregulated, and unreported (IUU) fishing costs Asia billions of dollars a year and constitutes a third of the entire regional catch. It has strong links with sea slavery and unregulated migration – the Thai fishing fleet employs 50,000 foreigners annually, often criminally underpaid and held in poor conditions – along with other criminal enterprises, such as underage prostitution. Moreover, it leads to dramatic overfishing, damaging local economies and causing serious environmental damage. All countries in the region acknowledge it is a major issue with cross-cutting impacts, yet generally lack the capabilities to manage it.

It is typically conceptualized as a developmental or ocean governance challenge. But in fact it represents a remarkable strategic opportunity for the United States. The U.S. has struggled to contest China’s growing maritime insurgency in the South China Sea because its presence is relatively transient and China’s is not. The U.S. could make itself far more competitive in the region by contributing substantial resources to a multilateral maritime policing effort aimed at IUU fishing.

Such action would go a long way toward embedding the U.S. deeper into the region and supporting its strategy of a free and open Indo-Pacific. Instead of relatively short security cooperation exercises, U.S. personnel and assets would work shoulder-to-shoulder with regional partners for long periods of time, and make progress on an issue that readily impacts the quality of life of regional populations.

On a broader level, this policy could reshape perceptions of the U.S. and present China with difficult strategic decisions regarding maritime provocation. First, trust in U.S. foreign policy has declined precipitously under President Trump. Regional powers are concerned about the potential for America’s China policy to spark conflict and are dubious about the strength of Washington’s security guarantees. On the other hand, China has been making a bid for regional leadership, and while few countries see its actions as friendly, it is perceived as more influential and consistently present than a mercurial America. By deeply engaging in a multilateral, local-led mission against a systemic regional problem, the U.S. can substantiate its claims that it supports a free and open Indo-Pacific rather than be seen as destabilizing and high-handed. Moreover, as Chinese vessels are major contributors to IUU fishing, strong U.S. action against the practice would highlight the U.S. as upholding beneficial norms in sharp contrast to an aggressively self-interested China.

It would also cause China tactical heartburn. Chinese vessels routinely ram and dangerously approach ships from other countries but are more circumspect around U.S. ships for fear of escalation. If U.S. service personnel were routinely embedded on coast guard and naval ships from other nations, this level of circumspection would likely expand. In turn, this would provide regional navies more space to maneuver and assert their legitimate claims – evening out the maritime playing field and positioning the U.S. to be more responsive to the competition occurring below the threshold of open conflict.

However, the U.S. Navy must confront the reality of stagnating defense budgets and growing operational demands. Chronic overwork has already led to disaster in the 7^th Fleet, and adding more taskings without substantial additional resources is not viable. Luckily, this program could be achieved at relatively low cost by utilizing assets not traditionally employed for national security. For example, IUU fishing is highly dependent on immigrant labor, with recruiters often trapping poor farmers in debt bondage. The State Department could assist international NGOs in targeting this practice. Experts from the U.S. Treasury Department and USAID could work with host nations on countering corruption in port authorities. Satellite radar data is becoming more affordable and proven to be effective in finding fishing vessels that turn off their transponders. There are some specialized capabilities which would certainly require additional investment. Sustainable training and embedding with partner navies could only realistically be done by the U.S. military. But innovative approaches that leverage the interagency can cut costs.

This policy is not without risks. Three clear issues would require action. First, it would expose U.S. personnel to greater threats. While embedding U.S. personnel on regional vessels might spur caution in Beijing, it is all too plausible to imagine a Chinese maritime militia or coast guard ship ramming a Vietnamese or Filipino vessel – only to inadvertently injure or even kill an embedded U.S. servicemember. Finding the right balance between earning the desired deterrent effect and having adequate force protection would be a challenge.

Second, it could feed into perceptions of U.S. hypocrisy or imperialism. IUU fishing is a major problem, but few countries appreciate meddling. The mission would require effective strategic communications and operating methods to emphasize a local-led, partnered approach. A particular wrinkle would be Japan, which is a major destination market for illegally caught fish. Challenging Japan on this issue might create tensions with a key ally, but failing to do so would invite accusations of hypocrisy. Designing the policy from the start with consultation from partners like Japan would be key to mitigating such challenges.

Third, while China is the biggest perpetrator of IUU fishing, it is far from being the only one. Many disputes over fishing grounds and regulation are between U.S. partners. That adds diplomatic nuance to assistance programs and would demand major efforts to resolve. Drawing on experience and trust earned through existing partnered operations would be vital. If the U.S. can leverage diplomacy to help resolve fishing disputes amongst its partners then it would make further progress on the issue and draw a sharper contrast with China’s behavior.

Another diplomatic wrinkle is the fate of boats and fishermen engaged in IUU fishing across international lines. Those arrested are often without papers, which makes deportation difficult, but governments are leery about detaining large numbers of foreigners for long periods of time. Aside from the humanitarian implications, it is a trigger point for international disputes. The U.S. could use its convening power to propose international courts and institutions to address such concerns, and perhaps draw inspiration from the Courts of Mixed Commission which helped suppress the trans-Atlantic slave trade.

Conclusion

IUU fishing is an ongoing humanitarian, economic, and environmental disaster. Working to stop it will be relatively affordable and advantageous for the U.S. if it leverages regional partnerships and interagency assets. More work should be done to explore the possibilities it offers as a matter of urgency.

Matthew Ader is a student in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London. He is an associate editor at the Wavell Room, and tweets infrequently from @AderMatthew.

Featured Image: ATLANTIC OCEAN (Aug. 17, 2009) Yu Feng, a Taiwanese-flagged fishing vessel suspected of illegal fishing activity, moves through the water before being boarded by crewmembers from the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Legare (WMEC 912) and representatives from Sierra Leone’s Armed Forces Maritime Wing, Fisheries Ministry and Office of National Security. (U.S. Coast Guard photo by Public Affairs Specialist 2nd Class Shawn Eggert/Released)