Pacific Islands Forum confronts climate crisis amid geopolitical tensions

Anthony Albanese arrived in Palau this week for the annual Pacific Islands Forum carrying the weight of three converging crises: a warming ocean that threatens to erase island nations from the map, a military buildup that has upended decades of regional stability, and an energy system so dependent on imported oil that fuel costs now consume a quarter of some countries' entire budgets.

The gathering comes at a moment of acute vulnerability. In July, China launched a nuclear-capable missile that crossed the airspace of multiple Pacific nations and landed in waters near Tuvalu's exclusive economic zone—a test that Solomon Islands Prime Minister Matthew Wale called "not the act of a friend." The provocation has accelerated what Australia has been quietly building for years: a network of bilateral security agreements designed to reassert its influence in a region where China signed a security pact with Solomon Islands in 2022. Since then, Canberra has inked deals with Tuvalu, Nauru, Papua New Guinea, and Vanuatu, and in July signed a mutual defence pact with Fiji called the Ocean of Peace Alliance. Discussions continue with Tonga and Solomon Islands. China's missile test may have created political space for something Australia has long wanted—a coordinated regional security framework.

Yet the forum itself is diminished. Wale flew out of Palau within hours of arriving to manage a leadership crisis at home. The presidents of Kiribati and Samoa, and the prime ministers of Vanuatu and Fiji, are also absent or uncertain to attend. Their empty seats underscore how fragile these island governments are, how thin their institutional margins.

But the most pressing threat is not military. It is climate. Pacific island nations have spent nearly two decades telling the world that warming is not a distant environmental concern—it is a security crisis. In 2007, when they first raised the issue at the UN Security Council, they argued the impacts of a warming planet were "no less serious than those faced by nations and peoples threatened by guns and bombs." Since then, they have repeatedly reaffirmed that climate change is "the single greatest threat" to Pacific security. The slogan is stark: "1.5 to stay alive."

The numbers are unforgiving. In 2025, Earth was 1.44 degrees Celsius warmer than the long-term average. The world's oceans are now the warmest on record, driven by climate change and a rapidly intensifying El Niño event. It is almost certain the world will exceed the 1.5-degree threshold set by the Paris agreement in 2015—a line Pacific negotiators fought hard to secure. Yet some scientists argue that even after overshooting, countries could theoretically limit warming to 1.5 degrees by century's end if they achieve deep emissions reductions and remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. For low-lying island nations, this distinction between temporary overshoot and permanent failure is the difference between survival and submersion.

The energy crisis compounds the climate threat. About 80 percent of the Pacific's energy comes from imported oil products, much of which normally transits the Strait of Hormuz. Even before the US-Iran war, Pacific island countries were spending between 10 and 25 percent of their GDP on fossil fuels—a figure that dwarfs spending on education and health. Fiji's annual refined fuel import costs could rise by $520 million if high oil prices persist, an amount that exceeds the country's entire healthcare budget. The solution is renewable energy. Replacing diesel generators with grid-scale solar and battery storage could save the region roughly $700 million annually. Palau's incoming forum chair, President Surangel Whipps Jr., has set an ambitious target: making the Pacific the first region in the world powered entirely by renewables. He estimates Palau alone needs $166 million to install 60 megawatts of solar and battery capacity, which would meet 90 percent of its power needs.

Albanese arrives as Australia's president of negotiations for the COP31 climate talks in November. Pacific nations will expect him to reaffirm Australia's commitment to keeping 1.5 degrees alive, to help secure new financing for a Pacific-owned climate fund, and to demonstrate that climate action is central to Australian strategy in the region. Some argue this is an expensive exercise. But for Australia, investing in renewables and adaptation in the Pacific is not charity—it is a calculation about shared security in a region where geopolitical competition between China and the United States is sharpening. The forum will test whether Australia can deliver on that promise.