On remote island, Chinese patrols disrupt Filipino livelihoods – and gender roles
| Thitu Island, South China Sea
When Noraida and Ronel Badilla moved to Thitu Island in 2009, life was good. Mr. Badilla fished in the nearby Subi Reef, selling his excess mackerel, and they received rice rations and free electricity from the Philippine government.
But over the past decade, China has expanded its presence in the South China Sea’s disputed Spratly archipelago and built a military outpost over the reef. Increased patrols have disrupted not only the peace but also family dynamics on Thitu, with more women picking up jobs to make ends meet.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onIn the South China Sea, Chinese patrols are disrupting the livelihoods of Filipino fishing communities – and pushing more women into the workforce.
Today, Ms. Badilla works at a government garden and is vice president of the newly formed Spratly’s Strong and Brave Women Association, which has plans to open a bakery and a souvenir shop. Mr. Badilla, who now picks up occasional construction gigs and shares child care responsibilities, appreciates that his wife puts food on the table.
Feminist international relations professor Jean Encinas-Franco sees similar trends emerging throughout the region. With men unable to fish, women are becoming breadwinners, business leaders, and advocates for their coastal communities.
While it’s unclear whether women will retain these roles in the long term, Dr. Encinas-Franco says it’s encouraging to see women “trying to demonstrate their agency [and] reimagining their lives” in a time of crisis.
In 2009, Noraida Badilla’s family moved to Thitu Island, a remote landmass about 300 nautical miles off Puerto Princesa, Palawan, in the Philippines. They were drawn by the promise of government assistance, including free rice rations, school supplies, and electricity. Meanwhile, her husband would be able to fish the turquoise waters and sell his excess catch.
The couple built a simple but spacious house on a stretch of white sand, hanging a small Philippine flag from an electrical wire clipped to their blush-pink wall. “Life was good back then,” says the mother of three.
But in recent years, China’s incursions into the South China Sea have disrupted the peace on Thitu, known locally as Pag-asa (meaning “hope”), affecting not only the Badillas’ livelihood but also their family dynamics. As China amps up patrols at a nearby reef, cutting off its aquatic bounty, local women like Ms. Badilla are forced to eschew traditional gender roles and pick up jobs to make ends meet.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onIn the South China Sea, Chinese patrols are disrupting the livelihoods of Filipino fishing communities – and pushing more women into the workforce.
Jean Encinas-Franco, who teaches feminist international relations at the University of the Philippines Diliman, sees similar trends emerging throughout the region. With men unable to fish, women are becoming breadwinners, business leaders, and advocates for their coastal communities.
While it’s unclear whether women will retain these roles in the long term, Dr. Encinas-Franco says it’s encouraging to see women “trying to demonstrate their agency [and] reimagining their lives” in a time of crisis.
Overlapping claims
Thitu Island, which Philippine forces have occupied since the 1970s, is one of the many islands, islets, reefs, and shoals located within the South China Sea’s disputed Spratly archipelago.
While the Philippines, Taiwan, Vietnam, Malaysia, and Brunei have all claimed parts of the South China Sea, China claims sovereignty over nearly the entire region, including areas – like the Spratly archipelago – that lie partly within the Philippines’ exclusive economic zone. Although a United Nations court rejected China’s claims in 2016, Beijing has been aggressively expanding its presence in the Spratly Islands, deploying coast guard ships and building thousands of acres of artificial islands over the past decade.
This results in frequent standoffs with Philippine vessels, and tensions escalated last month when a clash at the Second Thomas Shoal – located halfway between Thitu and mainland Palawan – injured a Filipino sailor and damaged Philippine boats. The incident prompted new rounds of peace talks between the two countries, which Philippine authorities have described as “frank and constructive.”
The Subi Reef, another flash point, sits even closer to Thitu.
China occupied the reef in 1988 and has since developed a major military outpost atop the atoll. Locals say it’s easy to see the reef when the ocean is calm, and lights from Chinese military installations flicker brightly at night. But until China eases up on patrols, fishers like Ronel Badilla, Ms. Badilla’s husband, must stay close to shore, where fish are scarce.
“Before, you can catch five pieces of tanigue [mackerel]. Now, it’s hard to catch even just one piece,” he says.
Food packs are available to help families manage lulls in fishing, according to Louie Cascara, the municipal administrator, but Ms. Badilla says she couldn’t just sit around and wait. Last summer, she found contract work with the municipal government. She and other women are paid about $140 per month to grow vegetables at the legislative department’s garden.
The Badillas partly rely on this income to support their eldest child – a 17-year-old daughter – and parents, who are all living on the mainland. “I’m happy that I am able to help them,” says Ms. Badilla.
She doesn’t consider herself a breadwinner, rather acknowledging her husband’s contribution to their family, no matter how meager it is sometimes.
For his part, Mr. Badilla says he doesn’t mind that his wife puts food on the table, but appreciates it. He occasionally picks up construction work when he can’t sail due to patrols or bad weather, and takes turns caring for the couple’s younger children.
Women’s expanding sphere
Women have always played a vital but often invisible role in Filipino fishing villages, with many being in charge of family finances, providing child care, performing other domestic labor, and selling the fish themselves. Today, however, Thitu women can be seen running gardens, food stalls, community meetings, and even clinics.
With the threat of China looming and financial challenges mounting, some women have reported feeling more depressed and anxious, says Jocelyn dela Cruz, a nurse who runs the island’s primary health care facility along with a midwife. But she’s pleased that, so far, there have been no serious medical emergencies on the island, which currently has no medical doctor. Overall, “women here are well cared for,” she says.
Indeed, families may be struggling, but women on Thitu Island are “really empowered,” says Mr. Cascara. Women underwent dressmaking and other vocational training last year through the Technical Education and Skills Development Authority, a national government agency. Several members of the newly formed Spratly’s Strong and Brave Women Association (SSBWA) were in attendance.
The SSBWA will soon operate a bakery on the island, in a building provided by the government. “We’re just waiting for the equipment and supplies to arrive,” says Ms. Badilla, the group’s vice president.
And as the island opens up to tourism, the SSBWA has proposed a plan to manage homestay accommodations and a souvenir shop.
Next up, some say, is bringing women to the peace negotiations.
“Women’s participation in decision-making should be increased,” says Gettie Sandoval, a law school faculty member at Ateneo De Manila University whose work focuses on gender and security.
If Ms. Badilla were at that table, her view would be clear.
The Philippine government has stopped actively recruiting residents to the 92-acre island and eliminated some of the aid programs for new arrivals, as the population approaches its maximum of 355. But Ms. Badilla’s family members are among the fortunate few who reaped the rewards of moving to Thitu early, and despite fears that China might attack the island, she stands by their decision to remain.
“This island belongs to the Philippines,” she says.
