John Stupart visited Taiwan as a guest of its Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The ministry did not review this article or set any conditions on its content.

I was recently part of a media group visiting Taiwan as guests of its Ministry of Foreign Affairs. We were exposed to a wide range of topics relating to the country’s interests, and despite some massive differences, I found many parallels with our own lives in South Africa.

One shared issue jumped out: severe stress on our coastal security.

By security I don’t mean conventional military threats, but the more opaque ones that pervade daily life. Anyone who lives on South Africa’s coast will know, as Taiwanese do, that illegal, unreported and unregulated (IUU) fishing by Chinese long-range fleets is a constant threat. In February, four Chinese fishing vessels were seized and their owners fined for repeated violations, including repeatedly switching their Automatic Identification System (AIS) on and off.

That incident is a drop in the ocean, if you will. We have not taken our maritime responsibilities seriously. In Taiwan, I learned that safeguarding the ocean economy is, well, everything.

To be fair, Taipei lives under the ever-present threat of outright invasion by China. Defence spending is set to exceed 3% of GDP next year, on par with Nato members now rushing to bolster their defences against Russia. Responding to near-daily provocations has become routine.

Most of this falls under what’s termed grey zone warfare: the use of coast guard vessels, maritime militia and research ships to harass Taiwanese waters and gradually alter the status quo. Most importantly, it involves “dark vessels” that disable their AIS to avoid detection and create volatility.

Taiwan’s answer is layered and coherent. A coast guard, something South Africa does not have in any official capacity, is one part of it. The other is increasingly high-tech: AI-enabled aerial, surface and underwater drones that bolster traditional naval and air patrols.

Our waters, by contrast, are virtually unprotected. The February interception likely succeeded because the four vessels came very close to shore within our exclusive economic zone, making a response from land feasible. But IUU fishing off KwaZulu-Natal and the Eastern Cape often happens far offshore. Vessels enter our waters with AIS switched off, strip our fisheries and slip back into international waters before we know what has happened.

We have no functioning maritime patrol aircraft and no drone capability. Our entire coastline is left to the handful of operational Department of Forestry, Fisheries and the Environment (DFFE) patrol vessels.

Meanwhile, the war involving Iran and the wider Middle East crisis have put the Strait of Hormuz and Red Sea shipping routes under severe threat. More and more international shipping now rounds our coast. Protecting those vessels is a hefty responsibility, and it is ours. Yet without meaningful investment in the ocean economy, the navy or the DFFE, search and rescue and maritime enforcement are little more than a paper exercise.

Line chart of ships passing the Cape of Good Hope each day, January 2019 to September 2026. Traffic averaged 48 ships a day from 2019 to 2022, 88 a day from January 2024 to February 2026 after the Red Sea attacks, and 92 a day after the Iran war began on 28 February 2026. Tanker traffic from March to August 2026 was 18% higher than in the same months of 2025.
Ship traffic round the Cape of Good Hope, 2019 to 2026. Source: IMF PortWatch.

Taiwan treats its threats seriously. We are deeply unserious about our maritime domain. If anything, South Africa is a cautionary tale for Taiwan: a picture of what unfolds when a country fails to respond to encroachment swiftly and effectively.

About this article

Written by John Stupart

John Stupart is part of the ADR team.