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Maldives' 2009 underwater cabinet meeting became a climate turning point
In October 2009, the Maldives staged an unprecedented underwater cabinet meeting-an audacious stunt that thrust the existential threat of rising sea levels into global headlines and helped galvanize the push for stricter climate targets. Sixteen years later, the iconic images remain a defining symbol of small island nations' fight for survival, though their legacy is now tangled in controversy over tourism's role in the crisis.
The risky plan to sink a cabinet meeting
Shauna Aminath, then a senior advisor in the Maldives' President's Office, recalls the anxiety behind the operation. The team had just weeks to train 11 ministers-most non-divers, some with health concerns-to descend 6 meters (20 ft) below the Indian Ocean's surface. "We announced it in a press release, and suddenly the BBC, CNN, everyone wanted coverage," Aminath says. "That's when we realized: this wasn't just a local statement. It was going to be global."
Logistics were fraught. Ministers' schedules clashed; some fell ill. After two months of crash courses, the team ensured no one would kick up sand and ruin the shot-meaning even journalists were barred from diving. On , as ministers took their seats at submerged tables, a chaotic scene unfolded above water. A rogue reporter from a major TV network jumped in unannounced, forcing organizers to haul him out as other media protested what they perceived as favoritism.
A photo that 'put a face on climate change'
Below the waves, the spectacle unfolded with surreal precision. Ministers communicated via hand signals and waterproof notepads, their bubbles rising past coral as stripey fish darted between them. The centerpiece: a signed declaration urging global carbon cuts. When they resurfaced, President Mohamed Nasheed framed the stunt as a warning: "If we can't save the Maldives today, you can't save the world tomorrow."
The images-splashed across front pages and TV screens-achieved their goal. "Climate change was this abstract, slow-moving disaster," says Benoit Mayer, a climate law professor at the University of Reading. "Polar bears on ice floes were the old symbol. This was the first time we saw people as the victims." The Maldives, the world's lowest-lying nation (average elevation: 1 meter/3.3 ft), became the poster child for the "1.5°C to stay alive" campaign-a rallying cry from island states demanding tighter limits on global warming.
"Most people see the Maldives as a honeymoon paradise. They don't connect it to climate risks-how vulnerable we are. If our islands flood, if fish stocks collapse, if tourism falters, life here becomes unsustainable."
Shauna Aminath, former Maldivian government advisor
The 1.5°C target's unlikely catalyst
Scientists later validated the Maldives' urgency. A 2013-2015 review, prompted by the underwater stunt's momentum, revealed that 2°C warming-then the global target-would submerge 10 million more people and raise seas 10 cm (4 in) higher by 2100 than 1.5°C. "2°C isn't safe," says Joeri Rogelj, a climate scientist at Imperial College London who contributed to the report. "It's a defense line we must stay far behind."
The findings reshaped global ambition. At the 2015 Paris Agreement (COP21), the 1.5°C target was enshrined-an achievement partly credited to the Maldives' viral protest. Yet today, with 2024 marking the first full year above 1.5°C (albeit not yet a long-term breach), current policies project a catastrophic 2.8°C warming by 2100. "We're failing to meet 1.5°C," Rogelj admits, "but the target isn't dead. Now we must cut emissions and remove CO₂ from the air."
Controversy and the cost of tourism
The stunt's legacy isn't unblemished. Critics note the Maldives' reliance on aviation-its new airport terminal, built post-2009, aimed to double annual tourists to 7 million, despite flights contributing ~4% of global warming. "The image framed the Maldives as a victim," Mayer says, "but it didn't show the full picture." Aminath, now reflecting on the past decade, points to a more personal symbol of the crisis: "I've seen ministers show photos of their grandchildren. That's the image we need now-what happens to our children when they're our age?"
The underwater cabinet meeting inspired imitators, from Nepal's Everest summit cabinet to Tuvalu's knee-deep ocean speeches. Yet as the Maldives' shores erode, the question lingers: Can a single photo outlast the rising tides it warned against?
