PINA

By James Borton

In American Samoa, the ocean is life — but that life is under siege.

The U.S territory, marooned in the heart of the Pacific, faces a triple threat of climate change, industrial fishing and the rising push for deep-sea mining — forces that threaten to reshape its future.

For many fishermen, whose faith and families are tied to the sea, these waters no longer feel endless or secure. Decisions about their future — and the ocean itself — are now being made far beyond their shores. From Washington boardrooms to global summits, the people most bound to these waters barely register.

As U.S officials weigh reopening parts of the Pacific Remote Islands Marine National Monument to commercial fishing fleets — and consider seabed mining — the voices of local fishermen and StarKist cannery workers are reduced to background noise in decisions that will define their survival.

The island’s economy depends on tuna, and every policy shift ripples along Pago Pago’s docks and canneries. This vast region falls under the nation’s largest Fishery Management Council, overseeing 1.5 million-square-nautical miles and an indigenous mix of Samoan, Chamorro, Hawaiian and Carolinian communities — making consensus across this vast ocean anything but simple.

But on Tutuila, the anxiety is direct: fishers speak of shrinking catches, rising fuel costs and the sense that the sea that once sustained them is slipping away — not just to climate change, but to distant powers charting their future.

“Tuna is the economic lifeblood of American Samoa and our fisheries are essential for food security, recreation and the perpetuation of our Samoan culture,” said Nathan Ilaoa, director of American Samoa Department of Marine & Wildlife Resources.

He warned that pitching deep-sea mining as a replacement for a declining fisheries industry may offer some potential short-term economic benefits, but risks destabilizing the tuna sector that still anchors the territory’s economy.

“As this process moves forward, DMWR will remain deeply involved to protect our interests and ensure our fisheries remain stable,” Ilaoa said.

The struggling industry’s survival runs through every deck and dock in American Samoa’s fishing industry. The territory ranks as the nation’s fifth-largest producer of fish, anchored by StarKist’s sprawling cannery in Pago Pago, which employs about 2,000 people who represent about 80 percent of the territory’s private-sector jobs.

But decades of overfishing have thinned Pacific stocks and island crews are squeezed between rules meant to protect the ocean and corporate fleets that dominate the catch, leaving livelihoods hanging in the balance.

Western Pacific Regional Fishery Management Council (WPRFMC) Executive Director Kitty Simonds warned that shutting down Starkist’s cannery could wipe out an estimated US$300 million a year in gross domestic product. Council members agree that the company is under increasing pressure from rival canneries in China and across Asia.

U.S Rep Aumua Amata Radewagen, American Samoa’s non-voting delegate to Congress, backs calls to expand fishing access — a move she said could boost the territory’s struggling economy. But many coastal fishers said their catches are already shrinking and warn that more exploitation could push a fragile ecosystem beyond recovery.

Fish stocks are collapsing across the Pacific, and the call for sustainable fishing has never been louder. Yet, in American Samoa, local leaders watch helplessly as distant water fleets — led by China’s mega-fishing armada, now estimated at more than 18,000 vessels — sweep through the Western Pacific’s exclusive economic zones, reshaping the seas on which their communities have relied for generations.

For High Chief Taulapapa William Sword, a noncommercial fisherman, and an engineer with the American Samoa Power Authority, fishing is not just commerce; it’s identity.

“Our people grew up with the land and the sea as sources of sustenance, so conservation must guide how we live,” he wrote in an email. But Sword said U.S National Marine Fisheries policies, driven by global trade interests, have sidelined small island economies and left American Samoa’s last tuna cannery — along with its longline and purse-seine fleets — battling to survive.

Sword said the island’s longline fleet has shrunk, while foreign vessels fill the gap, especially Chinese boats fishing with little U.S Coast Guard oversight.

“Beijing’s heavily subsidized fleet steals our fish and sells it back to us,” he said at a recent Fishery Council meeting. “China — and its fishermen — follow no one’s rules.”

Meanwhile, the Trump administration is racing to open the seabed around American Samoa and other U.S Pacific islands for cobalt, manganese and nickel — minerals now considered national security assets and pillars of the clean energy transition.

Officials argue deep-ocean mining would slash dependence on China for materials needed in defence systems, batteries and high-tech manufacturing.

But for American Samoa’s 50,000 residents, the sudden federal push to open the deep ocean raises troubling questions over consent, environmental risk and who truly benefits.

Marine scientists caution that deep-sea ecosystems remain among the least explored on Earth. Mining could stir up plumes of sediment, smothering fragile coral and disrupting migratory species on which islanders depend.

In a region already reeling from rising seas and coral bleaching, critics argue that deep-sea mining could inflict irreversible harm for short-term economic gain. Once the seabed is scraped and disturbed, there is no guarantee of recovery, at least not within human timeframes.

Local environmental activist Tisa Fa’amuli, who runs a small eco-resort on the island’s north coast, said the idea of seabed mining “feels like another assault on the ocean that feeds and defines us.”

She added in a telephone interview, “We already face the loss of our reefs and rising tides that eat our land. To think that the deep sea — a place we barely understand — could be torn apart without our voice in the matter is heartbreaking.”

The territory’s governor, Pula Nikolao Pula, has taken a measured approach to deep-sea mining. In remarks to local media, he urged a full environmental review before any permits are granted, stressing that American Samoa’s ocean remains its “lifeline.”

He said innovation must not come at the expense of clean waters, healthy reefs or the livelihoods on which future generations depend.

That call for caution is underscored by U.S. Rep Radewagen, who is pressing federal agencies to place island communities at the centre of ocean policy, not on the sidelines. She warned that deep-sea mining companies’ promises of low-impact technology remain unproven.

“Our people do not want our clear blue Pacific waters clouded off our shores,” Radewagen said in an email.

While Washington frames the hunt for undersea minerals as a matter of national security, mining companies see opportunity.

Oliver Gunasekara, co-founder and CEO of Impossible Metals, a California-based company developing autonomous undersea robots to collect minerals without dredging the seabed, insisted that “a responsible, science-driven approach can balance environmental protection with resource needs.”

The tension between environmental risk and economic hope is not new to the Pacific. From phosphate mining in Nauru to nuclear testing in the Marshall Islands, the region bears scars of decisions made elsewhere in the name of progress or security.

In that sense, American Samoa’s situation feels achingly familiar — a territory asked once again to absorb the consequences of policies forged far beyond its shores.

Yet, resilience also is here. American Samoans have a long history of self-reliance and stewardship, where community and nature coexist through mutual respect.

Villages already are leading coastal restoration projects, planting mangroves and rebuilding reefs using traditional knowledge. In a telephone interview with Fa’amuli, she said, “Our people understand the ocean’s pulse better than any outside expert, and we just want the chance to decide our own path forward.”

For many Samoans, the ocean is not just geography; it is genealogy — an ancestral inheritance that links generations. The call now is not only to protect that heritage from the encroaching sea, but also to ensure that any development in their waters begins with their consent.

As Fa’amuli put it, “The ocean is our mother. You don’t just take from her without asking.”

James Borton is a non-resident senior fellow at Johns Hopkins/SAIS Foreign Policy Institute and the author of Harvesting the Waves: How Blue Parks Shape Policy, Politics and Peacebuilding in the South China Sea

By Joyce McClure

China’s new restrictions on the export of rare earth minerals are reverberating across the Pacific, raising concerns that the Federated States of Micronesia could become a new arena for resource competition between Beijing and Washington.

The Chinese government announced last month that it would impose new licensing rules on exports of critical minerals used in computer chips, batteries and defence systems. U.S officials condemned the move, calling it an attempt to use global supply chains as a form of leverage.

U.S Trade Representative Jamieson Greer described the policy as “a global supply-chain power grab,” according to Reuters, while Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent told the Financial Times that China “wants to pull everybody else down with them” through its mineral restrictions.

The export controls, which take effect later this year, follow escalating trade and technology disputes between the world’s two largest economies. But for Pacific island nations such as the FSM, the implications extend beyond trade. They touch on sovereignty, environmental protection and the balance of power that has long defined U.S-Micronesia relations.

Covering more than a million square miles of ocean, the FSM’s exclusive economic zone is among the largest in the Pacific. Beneath those waters lie potential reserves of polymetallic nodules rich in cobalt, nickel, manganese and copper. These minerals are essential for renewable energy and defence technologies.

Over the past several years, Chinese research vessels have conducted repeated expeditions in and near the FSM’s EEZ. While Beijing describes the voyages as oceanographic studies, regional security analysts say they could also be mapping mineral deposits.

China’s maritime research often serves dual purposes, blending scientific study with strategic resource mapping, according to some policy analysts. Micronesia’s deep-sea floor is of growing interest to both commercial and military planners.

U.S officials have expressed unease about these activities, noting that the FSM’s security and defence responsibilities fall under the Compact of Free Association, which gives Washington strategic access to Micronesian waters. The recently amended compact reflects Washington’s effort to reassert its role in the Pacific amid rising Chinese influence.

While the U.S remains the FSM’s key defence partner, China has become its largest trading partner and an active development donor. Chinese-funded infrastructure, including government buildings, roads, and bridges, can be seen throughout the islands.

Analysts say Micronesia is navigating between two powerful partners, one providing security and the other offering investment—a situation that creates both opportunities and vulnerabilities.

FSM authorities have so far taken a measured approach to Chinese maritime activity. In past public notices, the national government has acknowledged the presence of Chinese research vessels operating under permits but has not accused Beijing of violating FSM laws.

The FSM has also established a legal framework for future seabed mining. The Seabed Minerals Act of 2014 requires all exploration or extraction within its EEZ to undergo licensing and environmental review. The law affirms FSM ownership of marine mineral resources.

Although the act has been in force for a decade, no commercial permits have been issued. Officials say the government continues to evaluate both the economic potential and ecological impact of any future projects.

Environmental organiSations have warned that seabed mining could permanently damage fragile ecosystems due to their extremely slow recovery rate. Once mining begins, it would be nearly impossible to repair the damage.

The debate over seabed mining divides the region. Palau and Fiji have called for a moratorium, while Nauru and Tonga have defended their policy decisions to open their waters to deep-sea mining. The FSM has taken a cautious middle ground, emphasising consultation and scientific study.

Palau President Surangel Whipps Jr has been among the region’s most vocal critics of deep-sea mining, saying it threatens biodiversity and food security.

FSM leaders, meanwhile, have framed the issue primarily in economic and environmental terms, noting that any resource development must safeguard the ocean on which the country depends.

China’s export controls arrive as Washington renews its diplomatic and economic focus on the Pacific. Both the Biden and Trump administrations have described the region as “strategically critical,” reopening embassies, expanding Coast Guard cooperation and promising new infrastructure investments.

Despite this renewed attention, some observers question whether U.S engagement will last. There’s still a trust gap. Pacific partners want sustained, predictable cooperation, not policies that react only to China’s actions.

If China’s control over mineral exports continues, experts say demand for alternative sources will intensify, potentially drawing greater interest in Pacific seabed resources. This prospect creates both opportunities and risks for small island nations.

As U.S-China competition intensifies, analysts anticipate that the FSM’s strategic importance will increase. Its vast EEZ lies along key routes between Guam, the Philippines and the central Pacific. Both Washington and Beijing are likely to expand engagement—one through defence and diplomacy, the other through trade and investment.

FSM President Wesley Simina recently reiterated his government’s position of neutrality and balance. “We are friends to all and enemies to none,” he said during a ceremony marking the renewal of the compact’s economic provisions. “Our decisions will always be guided by the best interests of our people and our environment.”

Observers say that the approach will be tested as resource competition intensifies. Micronesia sits on valuable minerals and in a strategic corridor, a combination that ensures attention and pressure from both sides. The challenge will be preserving sovereignty while navigating between giants.