By Ding Duo
U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth's whirlwind visit to Manila, against a backdrop of bustling diplomatic and military activities between the United States and the Philippines, seems to be a striking picture of an alliance growing ever closer. Yet, beneath the "ironclad" pledges and warm handshakes is a high-stake game that could reduce the archipelago into a pawn in the escalating U.S.-China rivalry.
The Donald Trump administration's stance on the South China Sea remains a puzzle. Hegseth's assurances of steadfast support ring familiar, echoing the rhetoric of past U.S. leaders, but there's scant sign of a fresh breakthrough strategy. What we see instead is the old policies continuing – the same joint drills and defense agreements spiced up with a few tactical twists.
The South China Sea isn't hogging Trump's attention yet; trade battles and domestic dramas likely command more of his focus. The region, though a critical theater, seems a secondary concern compared to the high-profile clashes with China over tariffs and technology.
But the South China Sea's value as a tool to needle China grows by the day.
America's aims regarding China haven't shifted an inch. The U.S.-Philippines partnership is a golden ticket in Washington's playbook to thwart Beijing's maritime policies and activities, especially in the South China Sea. But the Trump administration's "America first" approach has injected uncertainty into U.S. foreign policy, leaving allies like the Philippines questioning Washington's reliability.
This unpredictability left the Philippines unsure whether U.S. rhetoric will translate into decisive action. For now, the alliance thrives on tactical moves rather than a grand strategic overhaul, a reality that both comforts and unsettles Manila. Hegseth's trip therefore was a calculated display of unity, a shot of confidence for Manila.
Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos reveled in it, hailing the U.S. as the "greatest force" for peace. But this coziness carries a hefty cost. The Philippines might soon find itself digging deeper into its pockets – and perhaps its autonomy – for U.S. missile systems and troop deployments. In the cut-throat world of geopolitics, nothing comes free.
For the U.S., bolstering the Philippines to jab at China in the South China Sea is a dirt-cheap ploy with outsized payoffs. It's low stakes – there are no American lives directly on the line – yet it keeps Beijing on its toes. Philippine Defense Secretary Gilberto Teodoro's reluctance to confirm a potential second deployment of the U.S.-made Typhon missile in the name of upping the ability to encounter "external threats" only ramps up the air of intrigue.
Further Typhons in the Philippines will give the U.S. added clout in the trade and tech clashes with China. It's a slick maneuver, but it leaves the Philippines clutching the short end of the stick.
The repeated references to the South China Sea during Hegseth's visit – framed as a zone of "communist Chinese threats" and "assertiveness" – expose the manufactured narrative driving U.S.-Philippines collaboration. China's activities in the region are lawful and conducted within its sovereignty and maritime rights. The true "threat" perceived by Washington is not Chinese aggression but China's growing capacity to safeguard its interests without bowing to American military hegemony.
Under Trump, the U.S. military seems to enjoy a looser leash in the South China Sea. More firepower – think Typhons and beefed-up drones – could roll into the Philippines under the cover of "exercises" like Balikatan, the biggest annual U.S.-Philippines military exercise. Teodoro's chatter about "increased interoperability" and "rotational presence" drops hints of this escalation. It's a muscle-flexing move meant to warn, but it's also piling dry tinder in a region already simmering with tension. The more hardware touches down in Luzon, the greater the chance a stray spark could set off a blazing confrontation.
Make no mistake – this isn't solely about the South China Sea. The U.S. has its sights locked on a bigger target: the Taiwan Straits. The Philippines, perched in a prime spot, doubles as a launchpad for any flare-up. Strengthening Manila's military capability isn't just about fending off China's coast guard; it's about putting things in place for a grander showdown. But this two-pronged strategy ramps up the risks, pulling the Philippines further into the firing line of superpower rivalry.
Just how much concrete aid Manila will wring from Washington remains hazy. Still, the mere hint of U.S. backing is fueling gutsier moves. Marcos's glowing praise and the military's eagerness for more high-tech toys signal a rising taste for pushing the envelope in the South China Sea. The Philippine armed forces, newly armed and emboldened, might steer the presidential choice toward provocation and clashes with China over maritime turf could surge. It's a gamble, and the Philippines might not savor the outcome when the dice stop rolling.
Hegseth's assertion that "peace through strength" justifies the U.S.-Philippines arms buildup is a dangerous paradox. True peace in Asia has been sustained not by American arms but by decades of economic integration, diplomatic engagement, and China's rise as a responsible stakeholder. The U.S., however, seems intent on replacing this paradigm with a security architecture rooted in containment.
At its core, the U.S. is playing a shrewd, destabilizing game, using the Philippines as a flex of might across the Indo-Pacific. For all the talk of peace through power, this alliance teeters on the edge of unleashing havoc.
The Philippines, cast as a loyal sidekick, could pay the steepest price, trapped between American ambitions and Chinese resolve. Beijing, for its part, isn't flinching; it'll dig its heels in deeper to guard its sovereignty, security and development interests in the South China Sea. This isn't a rosy tale of camaraderie – it's a raw epic of power play, and the finale could spell trouble for Manila.
Ding Duo, a special commentator on current affairs for CGTN, is the director of the Center for International and Regional Studies at the National Institute for South China Sea Studies.
