Vietnam's Island-Building Gambit
While much of the world's attention has focused on China's aggressive posture toward the Philippines in the South China Sea, Vietnam has been quietly executing one of the most ambitious land reclamation campaigns in the region's history. Caspian Report's Shirvan lays out the scale of Hanoi's dredging operations across the Spratly Islands and poses a pointed question: why has Beijing, which has rammed Filipino ships and deployed water cannons against Manila's sailors, responded to Vietnam's construction spree with little more than boilerplate diplomatic statements?
The numbers alone are striking. Since October 2021, Vietnamese dredgers have created over 930 hectares of artificial land across 14 formations in the Spratlys. That figure represents roughly 70 percent of what China built during its own island-building campaign from 2013 to 2017. At the current pace, Vietnam will match or surpass Beijing's total reclaimed area within two years. The infrastructure emerging on these reefs is unmistakably military: munitions depots ringed by blast walls, helipads, ports capable of servicing frigates, and the foundations for at least one 2,400-meter runway long enough to accommodate bombers and large transport aircraft.
The Logic of Artificial Geography
The analysis highlights a straightforward geographic problem that drives Vietnam's calculations. Vietnamese ships operating from the mainland face a 500-kilometer transit to disputed waters, while Chinese vessels stationed on nearby artificial islands travel as little as 10 kilometers. Without forward operating bases, Vietnam simply cannot sustain a meaningful patrol presence. As the report puts it:
Vietnam's reclamation project is part of a calculated bet that hard power rather than diplomacy will determine who controls these waters.
This is a reasonable reading of the situation, though it understates the degree to which diplomacy and hard power operate in tandem. Vietnam has not abandoned negotiation; it has strengthened its negotiating position by creating facts on the ground, or rather, facts on the reef. The distinction matters. A country that builds military infrastructure while maintaining diplomatic channels is hedging, not abandoning one approach for another.
The transformation of Barque Canada Reef into Vietnam's largest artificial land mass in the Spratlys, complete with a runway foundation and multiple munitions depots, represents a qualitative shift. These are no longer the concrete pillboxes on stilts that characterized Vietnam's earlier presence. They are, in the report's apt framing, forward operating bases designed to extend patrol durations by allowing ships to resupply and rotate crews without returning to the coast.
Beijing's Selective Silence
The most analytically interesting portion of the report concerns China's muted response. The contrast with Beijing's treatment of the Philippines is stark. In 2024 alone, Chinese Coast Guard vessels rammed Filipino ships, deployed bladed weapons against sailors, and swarmed Filipino-controlled reefs with militia boats. Yet Vietnam, which controls 29 formations compared to the Philippines' nine, has drawn only rote diplomatic protests.
Three explanations are offered. First, China's geopolitical bandwidth is consumed by the Philippines' deepening alliance with the United States, including new base agreements and joint exercises with Washington, Tokyo, Canberra, and others. Second, Vietnam's expansion in the Spratlys dates to the 1970s, making it a familiar irritant rather than a novel provocation. Third, Vietnam's strategic ambiguity keeps one foot in Beijing's orbit:
Beijing believes that Hanoi can be managed through diplomacy and economic incentives. And frankly, that may prove to be the more practical approach. China is already Vietnam's largest trading partner with bilateral trade reaching $25 billion in 2024.
These explanations are persuasive as far as they go, but they may overstate Beijing's passivity. China's restraint could also reflect a calculated decision to avoid pushing Vietnam into the very alignment with Washington that Beijing fears. The report notes this dynamic but could press it further. Vietnam's attendance at Beijing's Victory Day ceremony, its partner status in BRICS, and its reported eight-billion-dollar arms deal with Russia all suggest a country deliberately keeping its options open. Beijing's silence may be less tolerance than a recognition that confrontation would collapse this useful ambiguity.
The Arms Buildup Behind the Islands
Island-building alone does not constitute a deterrent. What gives Vietnam's artificial geography strategic weight is the weapons being deployed alongside it. The report details Hanoi's acquisition of BrahMos supersonic cruise missiles from India, capable of striking targets at Mach 2.8 out to 290 kilometers, and Su-35 fighter jets from Russia equipped with advanced electronic warfare systems.
By combining fortified islands with advanced weapons, it can block enemy access across a wide area. Should China attempt to coerce Vietnam as it has the Philippines, Hanoi's fortified islands could function as unsinkable aircraft carriers.
The "unsinkable aircraft carrier" metaphor is evocative but warrants some skepticism. China's military capabilities dwarf Vietnam's, and in a full-scale confrontation, these artificial islands would be highly vulnerable to missile strikes. Their value lies not in surviving a war with China but in raising the cost of one. They are deterrent infrastructure, designed to make coercion expensive enough that Beijing calculates it is not worth the trouble. That calculation holds only as long as the broader diplomatic relationship remains intact.
The Environmental and Legal Trap
One of the report's sharpest observations concerns the legal implications of Vietnam's dredging. The Philippines is reportedly considering a second international arbitration case against China over environmental damage from Beijing's reef construction. Vietnam's own destruction of 9.5 square kilometers of reef, compared to China's 19, significantly complicates that case:
It's difficult to argue that China's island building violates environmental norms when Vietnam does the same.
This point deserves more attention than it typically receives in coverage of the South China Sea. The rules-based order that smaller claimant states invoke against China is weakened every time those same states engage in the behavior they condemn. Manila's decision to "look the other way" regarding Vietnam's environmental destruction is understandable in terms of realpolitik, but it erodes the normative framework that remains the Philippines' strongest card against Beijing.
The broader risk the report identifies is contagion. If Vietnam's island-building succeeds in securing its claims, Malaysia and Indonesia may conclude they need similar infrastructure to maintain their own positions. The South China Sea could become, as the analysis suggests, a laboratory for power projection through cement and dredging, with each claimant racing to create facts that become too costly to reverse.
Bottom Line
Vietnam is executing a deliberate strategy of matching China's playbook at a fraction of the cost, building artificial islands, arming them with advanced weapons, and maintaining just enough diplomatic ambiguity to avoid provoking a forceful response. The report makes a compelling case that this approach is working in the short term. Beijing's restraint, however motivated, has given Hanoi a window to fundamentally reshape the military balance in the Spratlys. The harder question, which the analysis acknowledges but leaves open, is whether this window closes once China resolves or deprioritizes its confrontation with the Philippines. Vietnam is betting that by the time Beijing turns its full attention south, the facts on the reefs will be too entrenched to undo. History suggests that bet is not unreasonable, but it carries enormous risk if the calculation proves wrong.