Technology

A Cold War-era treaty has kept Antarctica safe for the past 60 years. But will it survive climate change?

On a mild December day in Washington, 1959, delegates from 12 nations gathered to sign the Antarctic Treaty, putting an end to escalating geopolitical contests

December 18, 2019
SIR RANULPH FIENNES [L] AND DR MICHAEL STROUD AT GOULD BAY, ON THE FILCHNER ICE SHELF, AT THE START OF THEIR ATTEMPT TO MAKE THE FIRST CROSSING OF ANTARTICA ON FOOT, AND THE LONGEST-EVER UNSUPPORTED POLAR JOURNEY. THEY ARE DUE AT THE SOUTH POLE SHORTLY.
SIR RANULPH FIENNES [L] AND DR MICHAEL STROUD AT GOULD BAY, ON THE FILCHNER ICE SHELF, AT THE START OF THEIR ATTEMPT TO MAKE THE FIRST CROSSING OF ANTARTICA ON FOOT, AND THE LONGEST-EVER UNSUPPORTED POLAR JOURNEY. THEY ARE DUE AT THE SOUTH POLE SHORTLY.

On an unseasonably mild December day in Washington in 1959, delegates from 12 nations gathered after days of complex negotiations to sign the Antarctic Treaty, a unique piece of international legislation, the likes of which had never been previously seen. This treaty, made up of 14 simple articles, laid out rules protecting the entire continent from exploitation, pollution and conflict.

The signing was momentous, given the fraught political history marking the continent. Without an indigenous population and no automatic geographical territorial claims as we see in the Arctic, Antarctica was fair game for a sovereignty race. Nations first raced to claim the area in the hope of controlling tax revenue from commercial whaling activity: the UK asserted the first sovereign claim in 1908, and later apportioned parts to New Zealand and Australia, at that time still under British governance.

France and Norway, both active in Antarctica, put forward their own claims, to which the UK eventually assented. There was also an abortive attempt by Germany to claim a large area, but this was thwarted after the Second World War. During the war, however, both Chile and Argentina declared their own claims over the Antarctic Peninsula, both of which overlapped with the British claim. Finally, on the precipice of Cold War-era geopolitics, Antarctica attracted those looking for new resources and territorial expansion.

A science experiment gone right 

1940s and 50s marked a very important period in Antarctica—the rapid development of science programmes and scientific expeditions from a number of nations, driven often by geopolitics. It never came to blows, but it was clear that the ongoing escalation couldn’t continue and somehow the tensions needed to be dampened. In the 1950s, science was the future and the future was now. There was a pervading sense of adventure and discovery as technology was opening up opportunities to discover new places and push back frontiers. Nowhere more so was this happening than in Antarctica.

July 1957 saw the start of the International Geophysical Year, a 17 month-long international scientific collaboration focussed largely, but not exclusively, on Antarctica. Sixty-seven countries participated in this ambitious programme: twelve operated a network of scientific stations in Antarctica undertaking a whole range of scientific studies. Stations at Halley Bay, the South Pole, Vostok, Scott Base and several more—still in use today—were established. This was a period of intense scientific activity with a powerful legacy, but it also demonstrated an international will and ability to collaborate; to set aside territorial disputes in the name of science. The long and welcome shadow that it cast paved the way for the Antarctic Treaty.

Those twelve nations with science bases in Antarctica: UK, Chile, Argentina, Belgium, France, Norway, USA, Soviet Union, Japan, New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, came together to find an accord and a model of governance for the continent. It was clear that much of the human activity of the earlier 150 years had not always been positive. Whale and seal populations had been hunted virtually to extinction. Later there were thoughts of dumping nuclear waste, and whispers of all the mineral riches to be exploited. Add into the mix the potential for escalating military activity, and the future for Antarctica was looking decidedly dystopian.

The simplicity of the final draft of the Antarctic Treaty is perhaps evidence of how complex negotiations were, and how much probably needed to be excluded to reach the final agreement. But what emerged was an elegant, pragmatic, workable and collaborative treaty that has held fast for six decades.

A reserve for peace and science

The fundamental principle behind the treaty is that Antarctica is set aside as a “natural reserve devoted to peace and science.” A mere 14 articles determine how Antarctica is to be used and governed. It is demilitarised and denuclearised. The treaty offers freedom for consultative parties to undertake scientific activity, puts forth a principle of open data and scientific collaboration, and stipulates that any party may inspect the activities of another for compliance. Even more elegantly, the treaty acknowledges the existence of the historical territorial claims but sets them to one side and prohibits any future claims.

Signatory nations, of which there are now 54, are empowered to legislate domestically and pass the terms of the treaty into their own laws. The Antarctic Act 1994 implements the treaty into UK law, thus allowing the UK government to grant permission, and monitor, for British activity in Antarctica: science programmes, expeditions, tourism or, indeed, heritage management. Transgressions by British nationals are dealt with under UK law and likewise for other nations. Enforcement is made possible through the treaty inspection, something akin to an OFSTED inspection.

Last season, whilst I was at our historic site Port Lockroy, we were radioed by a Chilean naval vessel announcing their intention to carry out a treaty inspection of our base the following morning.  And they did. Ten Chilean, Argentine and Uruguayan nationals came ashore, clipboards in hand and asked us searching questions, inspected our facilities and documentation, before succumbing to the pull of the post office and gift shop. The subsequent report was then presented at the Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meeting (ATCM) in July and all recommendations passed to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, then onto us for action. This is a practice which occurs throughout Antarctica at any base, vessel or field camp at any time. It’s an effective mechanism.

Looking ahead

The Antarctic Treaty System has provided a rigorous regime inside which Antarctica has flourished for the last 60 years.

During that time, we have seen continuous peace and international scientific cooperation. The absence of commercial mineral exploitation below the 60th parallel south; the designation of the world’s largest marine protected area; the regulation of fisheries and environmentally responsible tourism; and the protection of more than 90 historic sites and monuments. We have also seen the science conducted there impact the whole world—measurements of the ozone layer discovered a hole which led to the global ban of CFCs. Today, climate science and monitoring in Antarctica helps inform our actions across the world.

Looking ahead, the future of the Antarctic Treaty is not without its challenges. New thinking and new laws are needed to tackle our response to the climate crisis. The effects of which are, and will continue to be, keenly felt in Antarctica, which has seen the rise in local tourism, shifting geopolitical interests, strings of new science stations being built, ‘scientific’ whaling and the emerging demand for resources which are perhaps not yet protected: Antarctica contains around 70% of the world’s fresh water, for one. But the treaty is undoubtedly one of the most successful pieces of international legislation the world has ever seen, and has given us a valuable and precious legacy, and a model for international cooperation.

Camilla Nichol is Chief Executive of the United Kingdom Antarctic Heritage Trust