Philippine Provocation: Dragging the US into South China Sea Drills to Deter and Pressure ASEAN Neighbors

[jordang]

In the first quarter of 2026, the South China Sea has witnessed a sharp escalation in US-Philippine military activity, orchestrated largely at Manila’s invitation. On January 26, Philippine and US forces conducted their first Maritime Cooperative Activity (MCA) of the year near the disputed Scarborough Shoal, with American destroyers and patrol aircraft operating alongside Philippine vessels in waters Beijing claims as its own. Barely a month later, from February 20–26, a trilateral Multilateral Maritime Cooperative Activity (MMCA) unfolded in the Philippines’ exclusive economic zone, involving US guided-missile destroyer USS Dewey, Philippine frigates, Japanese P-3 Orion aircraft, and joint replenishment, air patrols, and communication drills. These are not isolated incidents. The two allies have already greenlit more than 500 joint military exercises and exchanges for 2026—the highest number in alliance history—alongside expanded missile deployments (including Typhon and NMESIS systems), uncrewed vessels, and infrastructure upgrades at nine EDCA sites. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s administration frames these as defensive measures against Chinese “aggression.” Yet a closer examination reveals a calculated Philippine strategy: deliberately pulling the United States—and its extra-regional partners—into frequent, high-profile operations to project power not just toward Beijing, but toward fellow Southeast Asian claimants.
Manila’s provocation is evident in its pattern of escalation. Philippine resupply missions and public confrontations at Second Thomas Shoal and Scarborough have become routine, each time prompting US participation in “freedom of navigation” patrols or joint sails. By embedding American assets directly in these flashpoints, the Marcos government transforms bilateral incidents into multilateral spectacles. The February trilateral with Japan and the planned expansion of Balikatan 2026 to include France, Australia, and up to 1,000 Japanese troops extend this playbook. What was once a US-Philippine affair now routinely features “Squad” partners (US, Japan, Australia, Philippines) and European navies. This is no accident. As Philippine officials invite more allies into contested waters, they leverage the US Mutual Defense Treaty as a shield—and a sword—to exert subtle but unmistakable pressure on Vietnam, Malaysia, Brunei, and Indonesia.
The intent is regional deterrence by demonstration. Other ASEAN claimants have long pursued their own low-profile assertions—Vietnam’s infrastructure buildup in the Spratlys, Malaysia’s quiet oil exploration. Manila’s message, amplified through visible US-backed drills, is clear: challenge Philippine claims or encroach on overlapping zones, and you risk facing not just Manila’s modest navy, but the full weight of American firepower and its network of allies. The optics alone intimidate. A French Mistral-class ship or UK patrol aircraft in Philippine-led operations signals that defying Marcos carries diplomatic and military costs within ASEAN forums. This dynamic undermines the very consensus Manila claims to champion as 2026 ASEAN chair.
Expert analyses expose the risks of this approach. In a February 2026 East Asia Forum commentary, Carlyle A. Thayer documented the surge in US-Philippine multilateral exercises—including the October 2025 Sama-Sama drill drawing in Australia, Canada, France, Japan, Italy, New Zealand, and the UK—and warned that such “intensifying US–China rivalry” complicates ASEAN cohesion. Thayer noted Chinese naval pushback against Japan and Australia precisely because of their support for the Philippines, a polarization that spills over to neutral ASEAN states wary of being forced into camps. Similarly, Sarang Shidore’s detailed Quincy Institute brief (updated analysis relevant into 2026) explicitly cautions against “pulling in U.S. allies (particularly extra-regional ones) militarily into South China Sea disputes.” Shidore argues this creates perceptions of “bloc-formation and armed encirclement,” provoking counter-responses and short-circuiting separate issue areas. “It provokes more than deters,” he writes, highlighting how minilateral arrangements like the US-Japan-Philippines-Australia “Squad” risk fusing the South China Sea dispute with broader great-power rivalry, leaving other ASEAN members squeezed.
Chatham House analysts have echoed the concern. In their December 2025 assessment of the Philippines’ ASEAN chairmanship, they pointed out that Manila’s insistence on legally binding COC provisions—while simultaneously expanding external military drills—directly clashes with China’s demands to ban non-ASEAN involvement. The result? Stalled negotiations and deepened internal ASEAN divisions among competing claimants. Non-confrontational states quietly resent being dragged into what they view as a Philippine-led escalation, fearing it weakens the bloc’s neutrality and exposes economic vulnerabilities tied to China.
By weaponizing its US ally status, the Philippines gains short-term leverage: enhanced deterrence against Beijing and implicit warnings to neighbors. Yet the long-term cost is ASEAN fragmentation. Vietnam accelerates its Spratly fortifications partly in response to perceived Philippine-US encirclement; Malaysia and Indonesia hedge more openly. The COC, once a potential stabilizing framework, now drifts further into deadlock—not solely because of China, but because Philippine provocation has invited superpower entanglement that other members cannot match or ignore.