Ten years ago this Sunday, the Permanent Court of Arbitration handed the Philippines a victory that no government since has managed to translate into peace at sea.

The 12 July 2016 ruling under UNCLOS dismantled the legal basis for China’s nine-dash line, affirmed Manila’s sovereign rights within its 200-nautical-mile exclusive economic zone, and declared Bajo de Masinloc a traditional fishing ground open to Filipino, Chinese and Vietnamese fishermen alike.

Beijing rejected the ruling then and rejects it now, calling it “null and void” while its coast guard enforces a different map altogether.

The past year makes the point. In December, Chinese vessels cut anchor lines and blasted water cannons at Filipino boats near Escoda Shoal, injuring three fishermen. In March, near-weekly incidents piled up: a fire-control radar aimed at the BRP Miguel Malvar, flares fired near a Philippine Coast Guard patrol aircraft over Panganiban Reef, and a Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources vessel harassed near Paredes Reef.

January brought the year’s first documented harassment at Panatag Shoal — a People’s Liberation Army Navy warship and a China Coast Guard vessel trailed the fishing boat Prince LJ for three hours. The arbitral award changed the law. It has not changed the waters.

What has changed is the government’s posture. Marcos has replaced the previous administration’s quiet diplomacy with a transparency strategy, publicizing every water-cannon attack and blocked patrol through the Philippine Coast Guard’s Jay Tarriela and the Philippine Navy’s Roy Vincent Trinidad.

Manila has also strengthened its domestic legal position by enacting the Maritime Zones Act, codifying the maritime baselines reflected in the ruling but never enforced. It has worked the diplomatic front harder, securing explicit backing from Canada during Marcos’ recent visit to Vancouver, alongside continued support from the United States, Japan and Australia through joint patrols and expanded defense arrangements.

None of this, by itself, moves a single China Coast Guard cutter. That is the uncomfortable reality behind Stratbase Institute president Dindo Manhit’s argument that the ruling gave the Philippines legal standing, but the next decade must deliver strategic strength.

A Stratbase-commissioned survey found that 86 percent of Filipinos support continued efforts to defend the West Philippine Sea, and the 2026 defense budget, now at P430.87 billion, up from P115 billion in 2016, reflects that mandate. But money and law are necessary, not sufficient.

Three tracks matter most going forward. First, Manila should continue pushing negotiations for an ASEAN Code of Conduct, which it inherited as this year’s ASEAN chair, because a multilateral framework dilutes China’s preference for pressuring each claimant bilaterally.

Second, joint patrols with the United States, Japan, and Australia must evolve from photo opportunities into a sustained presence that raises the cost of harassment in real time, not after the fact.

Third, the government should resist allowing transparency to substitute for capability. Naming Chinese vessels during press briefings is not deterrence, and the AFP’s modernization under the Comprehensive Archipelagic Defense Concept requires sustained funding and follow-through.

Declaring 12 July National West Philippine Sea Victory Day, as the Atin Ito coalition proposes, would cost the government nothing and would lock the arbitral ruling into the nation’s civic memory, frustrating China’s apparent hope that Filipinos will eventually forget.

Ten years on, the Philippines does not need to relitigate the case it already won. It needs to make that victory matter.