Cooperation between the merchant navy and the French Navy as a lever of French Sea Power

Summary

Research report on cooperation between the merchant navy and the French Navy, seen as a lever of French maritime power.

The sea has now become the future of the land. Rear Admiral Jean Dufourcq²

List of acronyms

AEM – State Action at Sea

AHTS – Anchor handling tug supply vessel

ASN – Alcatel Submarine Networks

BBNJ – Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction treaty

BCR – Command and replenishment ship

CAPAMIN – Maritime capabilities of national interest

CESM – Naval Strategic Studies Centre

CIMer – Interministerial Committee for the Sea

CLPC – Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf (CLCS)

CMA CGM – Compagnie maritime d'affrètement – Compagnie générale maritime

CNUCED – United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD)

CNUDM – United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)

CNV – Voluntary Naval Cooperation

COPAND – Standing Commission for the Adaptation of Ships to Defence

COSCO – China Ocean Shipping Company

CSMM – Higher Council of the Merchant Navy

CSOA – Operations and Routing Support Centre

DGAMPA – Directorate General for Maritime Affairs, Fisheries and Aquaculture

DRASSM – Department of Underwater and Undersea Archaeological Research

DROM COM – Overseas departments and regions, overseas collectivities

ENSM – French National Maritime College

EVP – Twenty-foot equivalent unit (TEU)

FAN – Naval Action Force

FAO – Food and Agriculture Organization

FM – Supplementary maritime force

FOST – Strategic Oceanic Force

FORFUSCO – Marine Infantry and Commando Force

GAN – Carrier strike group

GICAN – French Maritime Industries Association (Groupement des industries de construction et activités navales)

GNL – Liquefied natural gas (LNG)

GPM – Major seaport (Grand port maritime)

IFREMER – French Research Institute for Exploitation of the Sea

LDA – Louis Dreyfus Armateurs

LPM – Military Programming Law

MSC – Mediterranean Shipping Company

OIT – International Labour Organization (ILO)

OMI – International Maritime Organization (IMO)

OPEX – Overseas operation

PMM – Naval military preparation course

PMS – Higher military preparation course

RIF – French International Register

SGMer – General Secretariat for the Sea

SGDSN – General Secretariat for Defence and National Security

SMLH – Society of Members of the Legion of Honour

SNA – Nuclear attack submarine (SSN)

SNLE – Nuclear ballistic missile submarine (SSBN)

TAAF – French Southern and Antarctic Lands

TIDM – International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS)

TRAMIN – Maritime transport of national interest

UNOC – United Nations Ocean Conference

ZEE – Exclusive economic zone (EEZ)

Introduction

Whosoever commands the sea commands the trade; whosoever commands the trade of the world commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself. Sir Walter Raleigh (1554-1618) in History of the World (1614)

At a time when economies are more maritime than ever before, four centuries after Sir Walter Raleigh wrote these words, control of the sea appears to be an undeniable source of power. While total mastery of the seas has no longer been conceivable since the development of the international law of the sea, control of a maritime territory, of marine resources and of the flows passing through it remains possible and coveted. To achieve this, states have every interest in coordinating their merchant and military navies and getting them to cooperate. The sea has become the crucial space of the 21st century. It carries 90% of international trade by volume and is the vector par excellence of energy and digital supplies. For some thirty years the seas and oceans have been the backbone of contemporary globalisation. Maritimisation, defined as the growing dependence of economies on marine spaces, is not only a driver of trade; it also shapes new rivalries. The discovery of resources at sea and the growing share of wealth carried by sea contribute to rising tensions. International maritime law, established by the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS, 1982), is increasingly flouted, and some states compete to enlarge their exclusive economic zone (EEZ). This rise in conflict at sea, marked by the spread of hybrid actions, is all the harder to counter because most Western states disengaged militarily at the end of the Cold War. As direct maritime conflict lost credibility, they cut their defence budgets and now struggle to cope with the resurgence of dangers at sea. In this context, the interdependence and complementarity of the merchant and military navies become all the more salient. Cooperation between these navies seems to be a response to the changing strategic context. Maintaining their synergy enables a state to secure its vital supplies, enforce its sovereignty at sea and act quickly in the event of armed robbery, piracy or natural disaster anywhere in the world.

France is a particularly good case for analysis. It has the world’s second-largest maritime territory, with an exclusive economic zone of more than 11.5 million km². This singularity gives it a particular responsibility in terms of sovereignty, resource protection and security. Added to this are a high-performing navy and a set of leading companies in strategic fields such as container shipping, naval engineering, submarine cable laying and maintenance, and underwater exploration. France also stands out for its political ambition. It is one of the first states to have begun thinking about building a “strategic fleet”, and for several years it has been developing mechanisms and institutions for cooperation between its merchant and military navies.

Generally, when “maritime power” is discussed, attention focuses on the navy and a state’s military capabilities. Yet reducing maritime power to its naval dimension alone would be a mistake. The role of shipowners and the merchant fleet proves just as decisive. A maritime power can only be fully conceived through the complementarity of its two components, merchant and military, which together make it possible to assert France’s presence on the seas. The term merchant navy refers to the whole “merchant fleet”, which, according to the Directorate General for Maritime Affairs, Fisheries and Aquaculture (DGAMPA), comprises both a transport fleet (oil tankers, liquefied gas carriers, container ships, ro-ros, cargo ships, cruise ships, etc.) and a maritime services fleet (cable ships, oceanographic research vessels, sand dredgers, offshore support vessels, training ships, etc.). In this report, the terms “merchant fleet”, “merchant navy” and “commercial fleet” are therefore used interchangeably, as synonyms. By military navy, or French Navy, we mean all the naval forces under the authority of the French state, an essential component of its power and sovereignty at sea. This research considers the Navy not only as a defence tool, but also as a diplomatic and strategic instrument contributing to security of supply. Finally, the terms sea and ocean are used interchangeably. The generic term “sea” refers to the whole of the world’s fluid space, that is, all seas and oceans, as a theatre of exchange, sovereignty and conflict. Two major questions lie at the foundations of geopolitics as a discipline. The first can be put as follows: “why and how does geographical space affect politics?”; the second as: “why and how does politics make use of space?”. This study seeks to provide some answers to both by analysing how maritime space is occupied by the French navies and to what extent its control can be a source of power. The term “geopolitics” was popularised in the early 20th century by the Swedish professor Rudolf Kjellén, who defined it as the science of the state as a geographical organism, as it manifests itself in space (Kjellén, 1916). Power, for its part, is an elusive concept that geography struggles to pin down. This study adopts a consensual definition of power as “the capacity to act”. However, this capacity is not enough: it must be accompanied by a will to power and the development of a doctrine (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, a). Power is thus considered in the manner of the economist Susan Strange, who introduced the notion of balance between factors into the study of power. In her view, the constituent elements of power are only effective if they are used in a coordinated way. The aim is therefore to analyse how possessing a diversified fleet, both military and commercial, contributes to France’s “capacity to act” in the global maritime space, without falling into the trap of saying that it is its essence. This analysis is preceded by a reflection on the maritimisation of economies and how it changes the components of power. It is accompanied by a study of French naval strategy and its evolution.

While France has major assets for asserting its sovereignty and power at sea, it struggles to convert them fully into a global and coherent maritime power. This paradox is partly explained by the institutional distance between its navy and its merchant navy, and by certain structural challenges that characterise it. In a context of growing maritimisation of the world economy and rising conflict at sea, France faces a twofold imperative. First, it must be able to secure its supplies and infrastructure to guarantee its sovereignty and economic resilience. Second, it must be able to project its power, combining its military capability and its economic influence. Yet pursuing these two objectives requires cooperation between its military and merchant navies, even though their logics – sovereign and liberal

• , their cultures – military and private – and their tools – war fleet and commercial fleet – have historically diverged.

How has cooperation between the merchant and military navies become a decisive factor in French maritime strategy, in a context of the maritimisation of economies and the return of conflict at sea?

Certain postulates guided this research. The first holds that cooperation between the merchant and military navies is a sine qua non for building maritime power. The second suggests that, without economic interests at sea, a state has little reason to possess a navy, implying that the existence of the two navies is interdependent. The third and final postulate considers that France has most of the attributes of maritime power, but would benefit from strengthening the synergy between its navies in order to ensure the continuity of its supplies, preserve its sovereignty on the seas and supplement its military resources in crisis situations.

This study draws on a deliberately broad and interdisciplinary corpus. Geography articles sit alongside more historical or economic ones. The works used date from various periods, from the 19th century for some works of naval strategy to 2025 for the most recent institutional documents. When studying French maritime power, its blue economy and its military apparatus, it is unthinkable to refer only to institutional documents issued by the administration. These convey the vision of a powerful state at sea, without always highlighting its vulnerabilities. Scientific articles from institutions such as the Académie de marine or the Institut français de la mer made it possible to nuance the study and take a critical look at official documents. It was thus useful to cross-check sometimes overly idealistic sources with more realistic ones in order to identify clear criteria for defining a maritime power. As regards the literature on the French merchant navy, it was interesting to observe the change between works from the 2000s and more recent ones, from 2021 to 2025. Whereas the former describe the merchant navy as weak, old and outdated, the latter portray it as a leader in various sectors and particularly young. This reflects a historical change but also a strong optimism in current studies of the merchant navy in France.

While work on maritime power abounds, none of these studies has yet examined the role of cooperation between navies as one of the components of power. Moreover, since France’s desire to make its navies cooperate is still very recent, and the notion of a “strategic fleet” has existed in French law for only eight years, work on the subject is almost non-existent. It was therefore necessary to interview sailors, administrators and politicians to try to understand the progress of this strategic fleet and the usefulness of such cooperation for France. The final part of this report thus relies mainly on this research method. Overall, this work results from a review of the existing literature and of the views gathered in the thirteen interviews conducted³. To obtain different and complementary points of view, the people interviewed came from diverse backgrounds: three from the French Navy, five from the merchant navy, four from the administration and one geopolitics researcher. On average, the interviews lasted an hour – forty minutes for the shortest, two hours for others. This methodology provided a diversity of perspectives and made it possible to compare sometimes divergent views, particularly on the progress of the strategic fleet and its possible European dimension.

Building on these contributions, the study is organised in three chapters. The first analyses the gradual transformation of maritime space into territory, and how it becomes a source of power in a context of the maritimisation of the economy. It questions the notion of maritime power by approaching it as an ideal type and portrays what Mahanian Sea Power can mean. The second chapter studies the various components of French maritime power, military and commercial, in comparison with the Sea Power defined earlier, and analyses the notion of national maritime strategy. Finally, the third chapter demonstrates why France has an interest in regarding cooperation between its navies as a strategic lever and a possible response to contemporary security challenges. It reviews the French tools enabling this cooperation and analyses the new concept of the “strategic fleet”.

Chapter I – Maritime space as territory, a source of power

Maritime space is a geographical space in its own right. Although fluid, it is criss-crossed by flows and structured by routes. It becomes a territory as soon as a sovereign power claims it and appropriates it politically and subjectively. The historical “sovereignty / freedom of navigation” dilemma that characterises it led to the creation of a maritime law that is now too often violated. The maritimisation of world economies increases the strategic importance of the seas. Exercising sovereignty over a maritime territory becomes a significant source of power.

1. Maritime space: a specific geographical space

1.1 The sea: from space to territory

Any geopolitical reflection requires a geographical framework. No one can do geopolitics without basing their study on a given space, a delimited, and therefore mappable, portion of the Earth’s surface (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, b). From the Latin spatium — meaning “interval” — space refers to an interval between two things. According to spatial analysis, a space exists as soon as a coherent set of points, lines and surfaces is structured. The British geographer Peter Haggett developed a theory of spatial semantics. In his 1965 book Locational Analysis in Human Geography, he explores how human dynamics form a geographical space. He explains that for there to be a space, there must be flows. Flows naturally form networks, then gradually hubs and spaces take shape (figure no. 1). Some hubs become more important than others thanks to their strategic position. This is a liberal interpretation of the construction of geographical space, the state being absent from the process. Maritime space is thus a geographical space. Although still little occupied by fixed installations, it has always supported flows. These maritime flows draw networks linking ports and coastlines. Straits, canals and port hubs function as strategic crossroads comparable to land nodes. It is therefore through the density and organisation of these flows that the ocean becomes a mappable space, with internal hierarchies and polarised zones. Maritime space is thus not a “void” but a geographical field structured by human and economic dynamics, in line with the definition proposed by Peter Haggett.

The sea can become a territory when it is appropriated by a sovereign power of whatever kind, and when people invest in it, not only through their presence but through their subjectivity. A territory is a space conceived, developed and organised by a community (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, c). This term, more precise than “space”, touches on identity, memory and symbols. According to the French geographer Hervé Gumuchian, [The term territory] appears much more relevant [than the term space] in geography insofar as it takes into account dimensions other than mere extent, notably social, political and subjective dimensions (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, d). A territory would therefore exist as soon as geographical space is invested socially and politically, appropriated, exploited, inhabited, managed or developed by humans. Maritime territories are transformed by humans. They are material places but also places rich in symbols. Politically, first, states possess maritime territories, extract their resources and defend them. Socially, next, maritime territories are spaces of collective practice and part of the life of a coastal community. Subjectively, finally, the sea has been the object of many collective representations since ancient times. While it cannot be physically inhabited by humans, the sea is invested by the imagination. It is part of people’s identity and creates a sense of belonging. One thinks of the strong Breton and Basque identities, unquestionably linked to the sea and seafaring. The relationship with the sea has a unifying, communal value, as the relationship with a territory can. Proof of this is an expression that conveys this attachment to identity: “gens de mer”, people of the sea. Faced with the immensity and power of the ocean, seafarers stand together. They share an awareness of human limits in the face of nature (Dufourcq, 2016, a). The sea transforms the lives of those who work on it (Baron, 2013). At sea, seafarers lead a singular way of life, shaped by the demands and constraints of their working environment. Some 1.5 million of them keep world maritime trade running today. Deprived of land-based landmarks, they live on a constantly moving platform, developing a radically different relationship to space and time. Their missions often last several consecutive months, punctuated by brief port calls, with a fragmented and irregular rhythm of life. The seas have always been a major source of collective imagination. Their immensity and their largely unknown depths have fed myths and fantasies, from sea monsters to the legends of Atlantis (Ducruet & Berli, 2021, a). The sea is a mythical space, the object of romantic representations⁴ conveyed by stories and images. Sea charts, in particular, were long imbued with human imagination (Ducruet & Berli, 2021, b) and bear witness to these symbolic constructions. They did not merely trace navigation routes: they depicted a world populated by fabulous creatures, reflecting people’s lack of knowledge of the environment. The Carta Marina of 1539 (figure no. 2) is an emblematic example. The work of the Swedish archbishop Olaus Magnus, it depicts sea monsters populating the northern seas, conveying fear and fascination. The peculiarities of humanity’s relationship with maritime territory, the way it fantasises about and fears it, stem from the originality of maritime space: a fluid, opaque space, difficult to grasp, to cross and to populate.

1.2 The characteristics of fluid space

a) Fluidity

The sea is a particular geographical space, fluid and constantly moving. In this respect it resembles outer space. Because it is fluid, humans cannot build anything lasting there. Permanent control is inconceivable. Confrontation there is lightning-fast. Human presence is therefore only possible through movement. A state’s control of fluid space thus depends on the constant presence of highly mobile forces. To control the sea, one must control the flows. Fluid space shifts and reveals no boundaries. While there are permanent sea routes, they can always be changed and bypassed, unlike land routes (Giron, 2023, a), because the sea has no physical limits.

b) Immensity

The sea is an immense environment, covering 71% of the Earth’s surface. It is a space almost devoid of human infrastructure, on which people live in confinement. A very particular contrast emerges between the immensity of the sea and the narrowness of ships. Its vast size makes mastery of the seas a pipe dream. Freed from land constraints, states criss-cross this immensity in search of resources. Maritime space offers free room for manoeuvre, largely free of borders and therefore conducive to confrontation between powers (Mazzucchi, 2024, a).

c) Opacity

The term opacity refers both to people’s lack of knowledge of these spaces and to their still limited transparency, that is, the opacity of the depths. This opacity, characteristic of the underwater environment, where light penetrates only a few hundred metres and the relief remains largely unknown, allows much better concealment than on land. While it makes it harder to detect others’ presence, it is also an obstacle to communications. Detection technologies (sonar, satellites, underwater drones) struggle to pierce this darkness, while natural disturbances (currents and ambient noise) blur signals and limit the range of sensors. As a result, the underwater space is particularly difficult to control.

d) Not shaped by humans

The sea is a “desert of water” without population (Muller, 2023, a). The ocean is the space least shaped by humans. Infrastructure at sea is costly, critical and difficult to protect. Life there is harsh, because it is a hostile and dangerous space. People at sea depend on the ship they are aboard. The corollary of this human absence is the still abundant presence of energy, mineral and biotechnological resources. For that very reason, controlling a territory there is harder, but also more contested, than on land. The absence of a permanent human population leads to growing use of hybrid actions. The point is not to “hold” a territory, but to know how to act there quickly and effectively. The world ocean truly belongs only to those who sail it and know how to endure there (Eudeline, 2017, a).

e) Three-dimensional

Maritime space is three-dimensional by nature. The issues that characterise it extend from the ocean depths to the atmosphere by way of the sea surface. Humans have recently moved into the underwater and air domains, so that one can now speak of a triptych of warfare at sea (Mazzucchi, 2024, b). This characteristic complicates both the legal framework for maritime space and its appropriation by a sovereign power. Each dimension is subject to a different jurisdiction. Added to this is a layering of legal orders: national, European and supranational (Rousseau, 2013, a). This three-dimensional character therefore brings legal uncertainty. For example, and in contrast to land territory, control of a maritime territory does not always imply control of the flows crossing it. While the state is fully sovereign in its territorial waters⁵, it does not control surface flows in its exclusive economic zone (EEZ). Beyond all these characteristics, the sea is a structured, strategic and unevenly occupied space, three points that a geography of human occupation will attempt to shed light on.

1.3 Geography of planet Sea

The Earth is round and oceanic (Guillaume, 2014). Covered 71% by liquid H2O, planet Earth would deserve to be called planet Sea. However, this predominance of liquid spaces should not mask their diversity. It is sometimes useful to speak of “sea” or “ocean” in the singular, but it must be remembered that ocean spaces are not homogeneous: they differ in their resources, extent, temperature and depth. Five oceans can thus be identified – Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, Southern and Arctic – each with its share of seas topographically separated from the ocean space. The geography of human occupation at sea is largely a geography of flows and networks. Made up of nodes – ports – connected by links – sea routes or submarine cables – maritime space resembles a web: structured, organised and functional.

a) A structured space

The sea is above all a medium for circulation, whose analysis reveals the infrastructure, in the Marxist sense of the term, of the globalised economy. Maritime networks reflect corporate strategies and changes in industry (Ducruet, 2020, a). Analysing routes shows how world production is organised, which countries export and which consume. Maritime networks are markers of the spatial structure of the world economy and of regional integration processes (Ducruet, 2020, b). First, three major traffic axes stand out: the first from Asia to Europe, the second from Asia to North America and the third transatlantic. The major sea routes follow these axes. Sea routes fall essentially into two categories: transoceanic routes and pericontinental routes (Dousson, 2008, a). The two main containerised transoceanic routes that structure the market today are the transpacific route between East Asia and the west coast of North America, and the route between East Asia and the ports of northern Europe. The 21st century is a time of paradigm shift in maritime geography. The United States is gradually withdrawing from the Atlantic and the Mediterranean in favour of the Indo-Pacific, which is becoming the heart of world shipping. This phenomenon results from the relocation of American and European companies to Asia and the rise of the Chinese economy. The world’s most important maritime axis runs from Japan to Singapore (Frémont, 2021, a) because of the importance of the Chinese coastline. The Indo-Pacific thus embodies an Asian Mediterranean (Gipouloux, 2009). This reconfiguration of maritime trade is a change in what Rear Admiral Éric Dousson calls an oceanic system. An oceanic system can be defined as a whole comprising the volume and variety of goods transported, transport flows, the state of merchant fleets and flags, and relations between world trading partners; it reflects the geostrategy of nations at sea (Dousson, 2008, b). In his view, three systems have succeeded one another since the end of the Second World War. The first system was centred on the North Atlantic and had three poles: the United States, Europe and Japan. The second system was marked by the arrival of South Asia as a fourth pole in the 1970s. In the third system now emerging, Asia becomes the centre of trade, so-called “South–South” trade develops, and the Chinese economy rivals that of the United States. After the Cold War, world maritime flows multiplied. Shipping is now the sinews of a globalisation based on the internationalisation of value chains and on a shift of the world’s manufacturing centre to East Asia (Frémont, 2021, b). The layout of routes is determined by geography and the search for transport efficiency. While the starting and end points of a sea route are dictated by buyers and sellers, the path between these two points is dictated by geography (Assemblée nationale, 2025, a). The routes used today by the merchant navy are the most economically efficient. Their regularity keeps prices stable. The great challenge for carriers remains punctuality: their cargo must be delivered on time to the agreed port terminal. The layout of sea routes is therefore determined both by the search for speed and by the location of deep-water areas that allow ever larger cargo ships with ever greater tonnages to sail. Geography and speed are the two watchwords of these routes. This search for profitability encourages traffic to concentrate on very busy routes. Hence the frequent metaphor of “motorways of the sea”. Maritime traffic resembles land transport in some respects, with traffic jams, tolls and directions of travel (Royer, 2012, a). However, unlike land transport, at sea routes are flexible in a crisis. Proof of this: in 2024, attacks by the Houthi organisation in the Red Sea led to a 70% fall in tonnage transiting the Suez Canal⁶. Conversely, arrivals at the Cape of Good Hope rose by 89% (UNCTAD, 2024, a). However, the slightest change of route can cause heavy losses for shipowners. The architecture of sea routes links production areas, such as Asia and China, to consumption areas, North America and Europe. Comparing figures nos. 3 to 5 below, one sees clear lines and routes that overlap from one map to another. Figure no. 3, produced by the General Secretariat for the Sea (SGMer), shows schematically the major axes already mentioned: the routes from South-East Asia across the Pacific to the US west coast; the route from Asia to Europe through the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait, the Red Sea and the Suez Canal; and the route linking Asia to the US east coast around Africa via the Cape of Good Hope. Comparing this world map with maps taken from the Marine Traffic website⁷, the main routes can be found again. Figure no. 4 shows the world fleet of cargo ships of various types. The term cargo ships covers, among others, container ships, bulk carriers and roll-on/roll-off ships (RO-RO). Figure no. 5 shows tankers, that is, tank vessels such as oil tankers and LNG carriers. There is a strong concentration of cargo ships around the Strait of Malacca, whereas tankers are far fewer there. Trade with Asia largely concerns manufactured goods carried by cargo ships. Tankers are more numerous around the Strait of Hormuz because of the oil wells of the Persian Gulf.

in real time on 12 August 2025 in real time on 12 August 2025

Routes are not the only things that structure shipping. Certain straits and canals are compulsory passage points. Although there are 150 to 180 maritime straits and international passages worthy of attention in all, the global system has some thirty major sites, including 12 world-class chokepoints (Biaggi & Carroue, 2024). Among these main straits and canals are the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait and the Suez Canal, through which some 20,000 ships pass each year, the Strait of Malacca, which carries 60% of world maritime traffic, and the Strait of Hormuz, through which one third of the world’s seaborne oil trade passes (Assemblée nationale, 2025, b). An attack or incident in one of these areas can have global economic consequences, as higher insurance premiums drive up the price of transport. The accidental grounding of the container ship Ever Given in the Suez Canal bears witness to this. Stuck for six days in March 2021 following a sandstorm, the ship held up 10% of world trade and caused major delays. Container ships run to tight schedules and operate on a just-in-time basis.

Besides routes and straits, the major hubs and ports are part of the architecture of world shipping. The port system operates hierarchically. Hubs serve secondary ports (Royer, 2012, b). Their fate and governance are jointly influenced when they belong to the same region or transnational area. The global port network is both interdependent and competitive. Hubs, invented in the 1970s-1980s, are relay points that allow shipping to cover the whole globe. They are offshore-style ports located at strategic geographical crossroads, such as Panama, Gibraltar, Suez, Singapore, Shanghai, Rotterdam or Malta, a major CMA CGM hub.

Sea routes, straits, canals, ports and major hubs structure the world’s maritime space and make it the medium for networks, flows and interconnections that have become vital to the contemporary economy. Traditionally a medium for trade, the sea is becoming a strategic space in its own right, rich in resources that people are increasingly able to exploit.

b) A strategic space

The strategic dimension of maritime space increased considerably at the turn of the 20th and 21st centuries. The sea has become essential to both the security and the economic development of states. The seabed is home to many cables. This now vital infrastructure carries 98% of international data flows, almost all global communications. It is the backbone of the digital economy. Although the first transatlantic cable was laid in 1858 between Newfoundland and Ireland, states have never been so dependent on submarine cables, in a globalised and connected world with some 486 active communication cables (SGMer, 2022, a). Figure no. 7 shows a very dense cable network, notably in island areas with many small islands (Caribbean Sea, Mediterranean, Indo-Pacific).

In addition, the seas and oceans harbour natural resources that are still little exploited. Offshore exploitation involves high costs and requires skills for working in deep environments. Forecasts that land resources will run out are leading public authorities and private entrepreneurs alike to turn to offshore resources and develop their capabilities for seabed exploration, intervention and drilling. In 2025, one third of world oil and gas production comes from offshore fields. At the same time, polymetallic nodules, containing metals needed for the development of modern technologies, are attracting growing interest. Maritime space is emerging as a space of high strategic value, at the crossroads of private and public economic interests.

c) An unevenly occupied space

Maritime space is unevenly occupied by humans. Ship traffic is concentrated on certain seaboards such as the Northern Range in Europe, the East Asian seaboard and the west coast of the United States. The French geographer Jean-Marie Miossec analyses the structuring of the major world maritime flows and the concentration of port activities. He observes a new spatial organisation of the seashore, characterised by the emergence of “mega-seaboards” (Desse, 2017). He identifies five mega-seaboards around which the maritime economy is organised: one in the Strait of Malacca around Singapore, one in the Persian Gulf, one in the central Mediterranean near Malta, one in the western Mediterranean around the port of Tanger Med, and one in the Caribbean Sea around Miami and Panama. These concentrate the largest ports and lie on the main trade routes. These mega-seaboards are not mere coastlines, but vast port and industrial complexes, interconnected at global level. The world’s largest ports by shipping volume are grouped there. Of the ten largest, six are Chinese, almost all are Asian, and only one is European, Rotterdam (Chenevard, 2023, a). The world’s coastlines are therefore very unevenly exploited, industrialised and strategic. One figure illustrates this port competition: to date, only 54 major ports in the world have the infrastructure needed to accommodate container ships of more than 10,000 TEU⁸.

This uneven occupation of space is also reflected in shipping density, which is greater in certain areas. It is very high in the Mediterranean. As a semi-enclosed sea and strategic crossroads, the Mediterranean concentrates intense maritime activity, making it one of the busiest maritime areas in the world. This concentration of flows raises security issues linked to the risks of accidents, pollution and geopolitical tension. In addition, the Mediterranean has the highest concentration of submarine cables in the world (figure no. 7). It is a so-called “integrated” sea, like the South China Sea or the Gulf of Mexico. Conversely, some areas are more marginalised. This is the case of some African coastlines and small island states in the South Pacific. The uneven occupation of maritime space also reflects the trade asymmetries traditionally described as North–South. The “countries of the North” have historically played a dominant role in controlling maritime flows, concentrating the largest port hubs, merchant fleets and strategic infrastructure, while the “countries of the South” were often mere transit points or areas for extracting resources – fish, energy or minerals. However, this hierarchy is changing. As Admiral Bernard Rogel points out, we are witnessing a redistribution of maritime powers. The actors in this redistribution are China, Russia, Brazil, India and Japan, not forgetting, of course, the United States (Rogel, 2016, a). This reconfiguration reflects a gradual multipolarisation of maritime space, in which emerging powers seek to reduce their dependence on the major northern seaboards and assert their own influence over ocean routes. “Planet Sea” is thus not an anarchic space, but a functional and structured expanse. It is crossed by continuous flows, marked by hierarchical nodes and economic stakes. It gives material form to the logics of globalisation. But beyond this functional dimension, the seas and oceans are also spaces of sovereignty and rivalry. Their gradual appropriation by states reflects a process of territorialisation that is redefining the balance of power at sea.

2. Territorialisation of the sea: between freedom of navigation and appropriation of space

2.1 Changing conceptions of maritime space through history

The history of maritime spaces shows an alternation between the promotion of freedom of navigation and claims of sovereignty. As early as antiquity, norms and principles, often in the form of bilateral agreements, governed the use of the sea. The Romans called the sea they once claimed to dominate, now known as the Mediterranean, “the sea in the middle of the lands”, mare nostrum. In this way they signified that the Mediterranean belonged to the Roman world and was subject to their sovereignty (Malgorn, 2019, a). This dynamic of control has been repeated ever since: “from Carthage to the route to the Indies, from the Great Discoveries to the Second World War, history and geography intertwine and echo each other, showing that mastery of the seas and oceans places a state in a logic of supremacy and control of flows ” (Metzger, 2014, a). Every maritime power oscillates between claiming freedom of navigation and seeking to appropriate a space in order to extract its wealth and control its flows.

a) A historical will to appropriate: the Spanish-Portuguese division

The age of the “Great Discoveries”, referring to European voyages of exploration between the 15th and 18th centuries, was an iconic moment in the will to appropriate the seas. As early as 1455, through the papal bull Romanus Pontifex, Pope Nicholas V granted King Afonso V of Portugal a monopoly on navigation and trade over all lands and seas south of Cape Bojador in Africa. This division of the world was reinforced in 1493 by the bull Inter Caetera of Pope Alexander VI, which granted the Catholic Monarchs Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile exclusive rights over territories lying one hundred leagues (418 km) west or south of all the islands of the Azores and Cape Verde. The following year, the Treaty of Tordesillas (7 June 1594) formalised this division between Portugal and the kingdom of Castile. A line was drawn along a meridian 1,770 km west of the Cape Verde islands. Territories west of this line were granted to the kingdom of Castile, those to the east to Portugal. These divisions followed an essentially commercial logic, each party seeking to secure control of the routes to the Indies and a monopoly on Europe’s supply of spices. But this division was quickly contested, all the more so with the discovery of the American continent and its abundant resources. Francis I refused to recognise the legitimacy of the treaty, and Holland, at the end of the 16th century, opposed this monopoly. These challenges gradually led to its abrogation at the beginning of the 17th century, enshrining, with Grotius (1609), the idea of the freedom of the seas against Iberian claims.

b) From Grotius to Selden: mare liberum or mare clausum?

Hugo de Groot, known as Grotius (1583-1645), was a Dutch jurist and philosopher. He played a founding role in thinking about the law of the sea. In his work Mare Liberum (The Free Sea), published in 1609, he opposed the hegemonic claims of Castile and Portugal over the oceans, derived from the papal bulls and the Treaty of Tordesillas. He challenged their claim to a monopoly on navigation (Malgorn, 2019, b). Grotius developed the idea that the sea is by nature unlimited and cannot be appropriated. In his view, the sea is a common good on which everyone is free to act without constraint. It cannot be subject to any national sovereignty and must remain a space free for navigation and trade for all nations. This conception of the freedom of the seas laid the foundations of modern international law, while serving the interests of the Republic of the United Provinces, then in full commercial and maritime expansion. Indeed, this status of complete freedom of maritime spaces included, in a sense, the right to appropriate them (Caron, 2008, a). In this way, claiming freedom at sea allowed Grotius to justify the building of Dutch hegemony over trade, at a time when the interests of the Dutch East India Company clashed with Portuguese claims. A few years later, in 1635, in a work entitled Mare Clausum (The Closed Sea), the Englishman John Selden opposed Grotius and defended British sovereignty over the surrounding seas. Selden asserted that the sea, like the land, can be appropriated and controlled by states (Malgorn, 2019, c). Supporting England’s maritime claims, he justified exclusive sovereignty over strategic marine spaces in the name of security and national interests. Where Grotius advocated a free ocean, Selden legitimised its partial enclosure. Yet both were making the case for the interests of their own nation. This debate embodies the historical ambiguity of maritime law, whose quality and observance depend on the right balance between freedom and sovereignty. The maritime law in force today still rests on this balance.

2.2 States asserting sovereignty through the creation of maritime law

a) The major conventions on the law of the sea

Until 1958, the law of the sea was essentially customary law, with freedom as its fundamental principle. But the conflicts of the 20th century showed that freedom was only possible at sea when a clear legal framework was laid down and unanimously approved. States were thus encouraged to create international maritime law. The 1958 Geneva Convention on the Law of the Sea was a first step towards regulating the use of maritime spaces. It defined the rights of coastal states over their territorial waters, set principles for navigation and the exploitation of marine resources, and guaranteed freedom of navigation on the high seas. It embodies the persistence of the “sovereignty / freedom” dilemma. This conference paved the way for a series of international conventions regulating the use of maritime spaces, both on the surface and at depth. However, no text had global reach until the adoption in 1982, at the Montego Bay conference, of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). This convention, adopted on 10 December 1982 at Montego Bay in Jamaica and in force since 1994, is a major international treaty governing the use of maritime and ocean spaces. Nicknamed the “Constitution for the oceans”, it establishes a legal framework defining both the rights and the responsibilities of states at sea. It precisely divides maritime spaces, from the coast outwards, according to the following nomenclature: territorial sea, exclusive economic zone, continental shelf, high seas and international seabed. This convention regulates navigation, the exploitation of resources, the protection of the marine environment and scientific research. Finally, it creates dispute settlement mechanisms such as the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS), responsible for sanctioning violations of the Convention. Succeeding the 1958 Geneva Conventions, it is today the main instrument of international maritime law, with 168 ratifications to date.

b) The nomenclature of the law of the sea

Cornelius van Bynkershoek, in his work De dominio maris dissertatio (1702), considered that a state could claim the marine space it was actually able to protect (Malgorn, 2019, d). He calculated this portion of space according to the range of a cannon in his day. This distance is the origin of the 12 nautical miles of the territorial sea. The territorial sea (figure no. 8) is the only maritime territory fully under state sovereignty. For the so-called “coastal state”, this space extends from the baseline to 12 nautical miles, or 22 kilometres offshore. While innocent passage of foreign ships is tolerated, the state is sovereign there from the subsoil to the airspace. The contiguous zone follows the territorial sea. It extends from the baseline to 24 miles offshore, or 44 kilometres. It is no longer state territory, but the state has the main sovereign powers there: it is competent in criminal, customs, tax, immigration and health matters. It has no military competence in this zone, meaning that it cannot begin a pursuit there. The exclusive economic zone (EEZ) extends up to 200 nautical miles, or 370 kilometres, off the coast. The state is sovereign there with regard to exploration and exploitation, conservation and management of resources. It also has economic competence and environmental responsibility. UNCLOS establishes freedom of navigation and overflight for other states there. It allows the EEZ to be extended up to 350 nautical miles, provided the state demonstrates that its continental shelf extends beyond it. In the case of an extension, the state exercises sovereignty only over the continental shelf. Thus, under UNCLOS, it is possible to have the world’s second-largest maritime space in EEZ, as France does, without this giving an “equivalent of land territory” in terms of sovereign powers of justice and policing (Giron, 2018, a). The three states with the largest exclusive economic zones are the United States (11,351,000 km²), France (11,035,000 km²) and Australia (8,148,000 km²). Finally, the Convention on the Law of the Sea describes the space beyond national jurisdictions as the “high seas” or “international waters”. The high seas account for two thirds of maritime spaces. This is an international space that has no, or very little, equivalent on land. This zone is characterised by free military passage, free exploitation⁹, and freedom of navigation, overflight, fishing, research, construction and cable laying. No national jurisdiction other than that of the ship’s flag applies. Some states therefore station their fleets in spaces over which they claim sovereignty.

on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)

However, the first stirrings of regulation of these international spaces can be seen, with the adoption in June 2023 of the United Nations High Seas Treaty (or “treaty on biodiversity beyond national jurisdiction”), known as BBNJ (Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction treaty), which seeks to ensure the conservation and sustainable use of marine biological diversity in international waters. As a binding legal instrument, once in force it will govern states’ use of marine biodiversity on the high seas.

c) Between nationalisation and freedom of navigation

UNCLOS establishes a balance between maritime spaces under national control and spaces of free movement. The fundamental principle of freedom of movement at sea is preserved and conceived together with sovereign rights. Two thirds of the waters are subject to no navigation restrictions. States, especially those with a large EEZ, argued for extensive freedom, while wishing to take over the spaces close to their coasts. Continental states, for their part, called for restrictive law. The 200-nautical-mile limit (370.4 km from the coast) was calculated according to this balance. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea was a moment of nationalisation of maritime space, to borrow Pierre Papon’s expression (Papon, 1996), since the coastal sea in effect became the preserve of states. From a space with little or no sovereignty, the sea has thus become a space of national prerogatives (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, e). Nations that so wish can rely on this convention to define the foundations of a maritime policy (Metzger, 2014, b). However, Admiral Jean Dufourcq warns that people should not administer maritime spaces as they administer land spaces. In his view, the sea must not be territorialised. One of two things. Either territorialisation spreads to the seas, and then the practices of people used to appropriating spaces by force will keep risks and tensions alive there. Or maritimisation improves exchanges between land-based societies (Dufourcq, 2016, b). He defines maritimisation as the cooperative exploitation of resources while conserving marine spaces. He advocates moving from a res nullius approach to a res communis¹⁰. approach. As trade has become vital, all states have an interest in guaranteeing its continuity. Whether port infrastructure, offshore operations, canals and narrow commercial passages, or the great arteries of container flows, they are all at the heart of the planet’s development, enshrining the massive interdependence of world economies (Dufourcq, 2016, c). While this thesis is relevant, it is also idealistic, especially in the context of the growing strategic interest of maritime spaces. No international law applies to states as such. It is up to each to make others respect it. For this, states must have an interest in enforcing international law, which is why a coherent law of the sea must necessarily rest on the sovereignty/freedom dialectic. The law of the sea, while an essential advance, in no way guarantees its own application. The cost to a state of exercising control makes possessing an EEZ a privilege. It is up to states to show their presence and constantly reassert their legitimacy to act at sea. Indeed, it is illusory to claim to respect the sovereignty at sea of a country that has none of the means to exercise it. The sea always belongs to whoever occupies it (Girard, 2007, a). As a result, conflict is returning at sea. The leeway left to states to extend their EEZ is giving rise to new disputes. The strong maritimisation of economies and the emergence of new opportunities at sea call into question theories of “doux commerce”.

2.3 The return of conflict at sea in a context of maritimisation of the economy

a) The 21st century: the most maritime in our history?

In 2025, 90% of international trade by volume and 80% by value is carried by sea. This illustrates the “maritimisation” of the economy, a term that appeared in France in 2012 in Senate report no. 674, entitled “Maritimisation: France and the new geopolitics of the oceans”. This concept highlights the important place oceans are acquiring in states’ economic development, globalisation, communications and energy supply. As the historian Fernand Braudel said, the sea made it possible to build an economy of distance, linking territories and shaping networks of trade and production. In the 2000s, shipping changed scale (Tourret, 2013, a). In search of economies of scale, shipowners brought into service ever larger ships. They lost geographical versatility and could no longer sail all seas and call at all ports. Global sea routes took shape and the few suitable ports turned into world-renowned terminals. World seaborne trade has increased fivefold since 1970 (Giron, 2018, b). It rose from 2.6 billion tonnes in 1970 to 12 billion tonnes in 2024 (UNCTAD, 2024, b). Gross tonnage carried grows steadily by about 2% to 3% a year (UNCTAD, 2021). Shipping has become the means of transport par excellence, as it pollutes less than road or air, costs less, offers a good level of safety and a certain speed. Maritimisation is both the driver and the consequence of globalisation (Metzger, 2014, c).

Figure no. 9: Tonnage carried by container at sea (2000-2024)

Source: based on data from P. Royer, 2012 and UNCTAD, 2024

Such an increase in gross tonnage carried by sea was made possible by containerisation, a maritime revolution according to Antoine Frémont (Frémont, 2005). A container is a standardised metal box, often 20 feet¹¹ long (TEU, twenty-foot equivalent unit), i.e. 6 metres, used to transport goods (SGMer, 2022, b). This box was invented in 1956 by Malcom McLean. By standardising transport, the container greatly simplified handling in ports. Before containerisation, a ship spent more time at the quay than at sea. Today, seafarers no longer even leave the ship, as transhipment takes only a few hours. Containerisation drastically lowered transport costs, allowed economies of scale and generated very large productivity gains. No containerisation, no globalisation (Frémont, 2021, c). The 21st century also owes its maritime character to the emergence of new opportunities at sea. Recent technical advances make it possible to exploit hydrocarbons at greater depths, whether oil or liquefied natural gas (LNG). These new operations contribute to the territorialisation of maritime spaces. With the multiplication of oil and gas platforms and the spread of offshore wind farms, the ocean is becoming a territory of fixed infrastructure. As these structures move further offshore, they become more vulnerable to sabotage and harder to maintain. Offshore resources are all the more coveted as land resources are gradually depleted. The oceans thus appear as a New Eldorado (Coutansais, 2012), crystallising economic and geopolitical rivalries over their exploitation. While the sea changes little, globalised trading societies depend on it a little more every day (Dufourcq, 2016, d). As a result, control of maritime spaces is becoming a factor of power.

b) Challenging the theory of “doux commerce”

Maritime space, gaining in strategic value, is increasingly coveted and contested. Trade at sea does not seem to pacify relations between states as Montesquieu theorised in his 1748 work The Spirit of the Laws. Commerce cures destructive prejudices; and it is almost a general rule that wherever there are gentle mores, there is commerce, and that wherever there is commerce, there are gentle mores (Montesquieu, The Spirit of the Laws, Book XX).

Montesquieu argues that trade fosters moderation, tolerance and peace between peoples, because trading nations have an interest in maintaining stable relations to preserve their exchanges. This idea relates to the liberal school of international relations, which holds that economic interdependence reduces the likelihood of armed conflict. Yet the maritimisation of trade has contributed to the return of conflict at sea, for various reasons. First, some states are tempted to establish new borders at sea in order to enjoy exclusive rights to maritime resources (Rogel, 2016, b). This desire to control resources is magnified by what Hugues Eudeline calls the tyranny of geography. In his view, this tyranny gives states very unequal exploitable maritime domains, making this type of conflict increasingly frequent, with the risk of escalating into high-intensity fighting (Eudeline, 2017, b). The sea is indeed seen as the last space to be conquered. Nicolas Mazzucchi observes a change in the conception of conflict at sea. He speaks of a shift from sea basing to sea warfare: from supporting land forces, the sea becomes a space of conflict in its own right (Mazzucchi, 2024, c).

c) Rising piracy and armed robbery

Because of the maritimisation of the economy, the sea concentrates very large flows of goods. This concentration of wealth on ships contributes to the development of maritime crime. This crime takes many forms, but the most restrictive for civilian ships remain piracy and armed robbery. Attacks on merchant ships are increasing, notably in the Red Sea with Houthi strikes, but also in the Gulf of Guinea and in the Black Sea in the context of the war in Ukraine. The attack on the cruise ship Le Ponant, of the Compagnie du Ponant, in April 2008 left a lasting impression by revealing the persistence of direct threats to civilian ships¹². Beyond boardings, global flows as a whole are threatened. Attacks on port areas are becoming widespread, leading to the militarisation of straits and ports. The MICA Center’s 2024 annual report provides a skilful overview of maritime security, based on trends in piracy and armed robbery (figure no. 10). Under Article 101 of UNCLOS, an act of piracy is an act of violence committed for private ends, on the high seas, by a ship or aircraft against another ship or aircraft. In other words, piracy consists of attacking commercial ships with the aim of stealing their cargo. This phenomenon has grown in parallel with the maritimisation of the economy. From 1990 to 2019, the number of recorded acts rose from 30 to 250 a year (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, f). According to the MICA Center report, acts of piracy doubled from 2023 to 2024, from 28 to 63 events, with the Somali coast accounting for 70% of incidents (42 acts). While the figures are impressive, only 3 merchant ships were affected, the majority of acts mainly concerning fishing vessels linked to IUU activity¹³. According to the International Maritime Organization (IMO), armed robbery means any illegal act of violence or detention […] committed for private ends against a ship, or against persons or property on board, within a state’s internal waters, archipelagic waters or territorial sea”. According to the MICA Center, the number of acts of armed robbery is holding steady. The most affected regions are the Caribbean (42% of acts) and the Singapore Strait (34% of acts). For example, on 13 April 2024, Iran’s Revolutionary Guards seized the 15,000 TEU container ship MSC ARIES while it was outside Iranian waters. As the ship belonged to the Israeli group Gortac Maritime, this act was a response to Israel’s attack on the Iranian consulate on 1 April 2024.

Once merely the theatre of conflicts, the sea has now become the object of conflicts (Coutau-Bégarie, 1983). Nicolas Mazzucchi notes renewed interest from states in maritime affairs, after thirty years during which the use of the sea was almost uncontested and given over to flourishing trade (Mazzucchi, 2024, d). States now need to be able to defend their maritime territory against adversaries’ ambitions, exploit it wisely and control routes and straits to secure their supplies.

3. Control of the sea: a source of power?

3.1 Why control the seas: Mahanian Sea Power

Throughout history, the power and prosperity of states have been linked to the maritime involvement of the countries concerned (Vallat, 2014, a). The study of history seems to confirm this idea. In antiquity, Athens built its supremacy on its mastery of the Aegean Sea. Great Italian cities such as Genoa and Venice drew their wealth and prosperity from their shipbuilding know-how, which gave them control over trade flows. In the 17th century, after the Spanish-Portuguese hegemony, the United Provinces imposed a century of Dutch domination of the oceans. This place in world trade contributed greatly to the country’s development, left its mark on the Dutch landscape and helped make Amsterdam the heart of international finance. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the British Empire, drawing on the strategic theories of the navigator Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1616), made the Royal Navy the instrument of its world power. As early as the 16th century, Raleigh asserted that whosoever commands the sea commands the trade; whosoever commands the trade of the world commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself, a principle taken up and amplified by Alfred T. Mahan in the United States, who made the sea a pillar of American influence. Today this logic continues with China, which is investing massively in its navy and port infrastructure. As Yan Giron points out, maritime spaces are power multipliers, through their capacity to move forces and flows (Giron, 2023, b). The leading thinker on naval strategy, Rear Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan (1840-1914), was the first to distinguish it clearly from land strategy. In 1890 he published his major work, The Influence of Sea Power upon History, 1660-1783. Mahan considered that naval strategy should serve a state’s power interests. Its aim was to found, support and increase, as well in peace as in war, the sea power of a country (Mahan, 1890). He saw maritime power as the key to overall power. When Alfred Mahan realised the role of maritime power in the prosperity of nations, he wanted the United States to acquire a naval doctrine and a fleet, both merchant and military, taking as an example the hegemony enjoyed by the United Kingdom since the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763). He took part in the movement that led the United States from isolationism to imperialism. Mahan was early on an advocate of complementarity between the merchant fleet, the navy and the availability of naval logistics bases (Mazzucchi, 2024, e). He first considered maritime power according to these three pillars: a dynamic merchant fleet for well-developed maritime trade, a navy to protect trade, and colonies – today overseas territories – serving as depots and shelters for the merchant and military fleets. Over time he adjusted his definition, no longer limiting power to the mere combination of these foundations. With a certain determinism, he identified six “natural” conditions playing a role in a state’s capacity to become a maritime power: geographical position, physical conformation (length and accessibility of coasts, climate), extent of territory (the number of inhabitants living on the coasts), size of population, national character, and finally the quality of government and its ability to sustain a strategy. He calls Sea Power a state’s combination of these conditions. Sea Power is distinct from command of the sea. It is a constituent element of it (Caron, 2008, b). Command of the sea refers to a state’s authoritarian and exclusive domination of maritime spaces. It rests on economic and political factors. François Caron shows that to date no maritime power has managed to command the sea. Such command is no longer even conceivable since states ratified the Montego Bay Convention. Sea Power, better rendered as “maritime power”, is thus the capacity a country acquires to be present at sea, without claiming the exclusive use of it to which command of the sea aspires (Caron, 2008, c). Alfred T. Mahan thus prefigures the notion of power projection. Presence at sea is an essential factor in a nation’s security. It forestalls or even prevents invasions and ensures continuity of supply. With the maritimisation of the economy, it is all the more important for states to be able to act at sea, in order to limit their dependence on private shipping companies and on geopolitical and natural hazards. The effectiveness of a state’s intervention at sea depends on the quality of its naval strategy, which is indispensable for coordinating and securing action. The capacity to act becomes a matter of sovereignty. Bringing together the constituent elements of Sea Power appears to be a necessity.

3.2 Maritime power as an ideal type

The opposition between maritime power and continental power is a classic of geopolitical analysis (Gauchon & Huissoud, 2019, g). This dual view of the sources of power is found in the theories of Alfred T. Mahan, as well as in the work of the philosopher Carl Schmitt (1888-1985), who said that world history is the history of the struggle of sea powers against land powers and of land powers against sea powers. While for Alfred Mahan maritime power is the main lever of overall power, for others, like the Briton Halford Mackinder (1861-1947), power comes not from the sea but from the land. He argued that the pre-eminence of sea over land was about to be overturned with the rise of railways in the context of the expansion of the Russian Empire across the great Eurasian steppes. These two geopolitical logics have thus structured history. Yet over the past centuries, few powers have been exclusively one or the other. Likewise, no power has successfully combined these two strategies. It therefore seems appropriate to approach these frameworks as ideal types. The ideal type, a sociological tool devised by Max Weber (1864-1920), makes it possible to compare concrete situations with a reference model taken to the extreme, which is not found as such in the real world. The ideal type draws its explanatory value from comparison with reality. Approaching maritime power as an ideal type has the advantage of identifying a list of factors that make a state a maritime power, and of measuring French maritime power, its strengths and weaknesses, by comparison with this tool. It is by portraying this ideal type, and comparing France’s actual characteristics with it, that the degree of French Sea Power can be measured. While the ideal type is useful for discerning the characteristics of a state’s power, this land/sea dualism must be qualified. A strong maritime power is one that can rely on a dynamic and structured hinterland. A global power would resemble a hybrid power, like the Ottoman Empire in the 16th and 17th centuries, which spanned three continents, controlled the Black Sea, the Aegean, the Red Sea and the Dardanelles and Bosphorus straits, and possessed a powerful war fleet. The ideal type of maritime power can be broken down into a set of criteria which, once well articulated and combined with a will to power, make it possible to define Sea Power.

3.3 The factors of Sea Power: means and will

The two main forces of this maritime power have always been capital and will (Giron, 2023, c). As mentioned above, Alfred T. Mahan identified three foundations of Sea Power: a merchant navy, a navy, and footholds on every ocean, which at the time were the colonies. While this definition needs updating today in a context of maritimised economies, two essential criteria remain. The first is possession of the material means of power; the second is human will, the driver of action.

a) Having the means of one’s power: the constituent criteria of the ideal type Sea Power is a composite system, which combines certain elements in a developed and structured way. While not all of them can be brought together, the more of them a nation has, the closer it comes to the description “maritime power”. The list below attempts to portray the ideal type, without claiming to be exhaustive, since it results from cross-checking sources and interviews. A state’s degree of Sea Power can thus be measured by its possession of the following components:

• A favourable geography, giving access to the sea and to strategic positions;
• Sovereignty over extensive maritime spaces;
• A deployable, ocean-going, autonomous and deterrent navy;
• A powerful merchant navy, with heavy tonnage and a competitive flag;
• A global port and logistics network;
• A fishing fleet meeting the nation’s needs for fishery resources;
• A civil and military naval industrial capacity enabling construction, repair and innovation;
• The presence of the national flag on the major sea routes, civilian ships also allowing the state to show its flag at sea and assert the legitimacy of its presence;
• Projection of maritime influence through diplomacy, oceanographic and seismic research, and humanitarian missions;
• A body of law and institutions for regulating, protecting and exploiting maritime spaces and asserting one’s rights at sea;
• Recognised maritime education training seafarers with strategic skills;
• A maritime culture expressed in sport and the arts;
• An investment and insurance system;
• A political narrative, maritime power also being a story, an ambition.

Ultimately, Sea Power is not limited to naval force alone: it is a whole, combining geography, economy, industry and diplomacy. Simply accumulating these levers is not enough; it is their articulation that underpins power. Power at sea is never acquired once and for all; it must be maintained, consolidated, projected and therefore theorised through a comprehensive maritime strategy. It reflects an ambition and a will to act which, together with the means already mentioned, combine to make a state a maritime power.

b) Sustaining a will to power and action

Being a maritime power is not just a matter of geography or of possessing the means. The state must choose to invest in maritime space, for this does not go without saying. It needs constant political will and a maritime strategy committing it over the long term. Maritime power is above all a capacity to act on the oceans (Rousseau, 2013, b). It is not enough to have a maritime space; one must also know how to exploit it, transform it and turn it to one’s advantage. In this sense, the sea belongs to those who occupy it and know how to use it (Rousseau, 2013, c). Power is active by essence; it exists through its own manifestation.

The specificity of maritime geographical space in no way prevents its territorialisation. Although it is fluid and constraining, people took to it very early, in search of wealth and as a medium for trade. The maritimisation of contemporary economies has reached an unprecedented degree. This phenomenon increases the strategic importance of presence at sea. Possessing military and merchant fleets and overseas territory becomes a lever of overall power. Let us now look at France’s position against the criteria of Sea Power, given that it has the world’s second-largest maritime territory and large merchant and military fleets.

Chapter II – France: its strengths and weaknesses in terms of Sea Power

Analysis of France’s geography, maritime economy and military and merchant fleets reveals France’s strong maritime potential. With the world’s second-largest maritime territory, France maintains a cutting-edge navy and has a strategic merchant navy. Compared with the criteria of Sea Power set out earlier, France proves to be a maritime power. Nevertheless, it would benefit from broadening its strategy of means to include its merchant fleet, so as to manage interdependent military and merchant fleets in concert.

4. French maritime strategy

4.1 A strategy of wealth and means

Strategy is a military term with many definitions. François Lambert, Director General of the École nationale supérieure maritime (ENSM), defines it as a set of coordinated actions to achieve a specific goal (Lambert, 2024). Transposed to the sea, maritime strategy rests on possessing means and sustaining a will. Vice Admiral Christian Girard stresses that any strategy is the product of dialogue between politicians and the military, between the “will” of the politician and the “capability” of the military. It is both a line of principles and doctrine, and a daily construction in action (Girard, 2007, b). The role of maritime strategy is to coordinate the elements of a country’s maritime power. To do so, it combines a “strategy of wealth” and a “strategy of means”. The strategy of wealth refers to how maritime resources (living, mineral, energy) are managed, protected and exploited, and how the blue economy is developed. It rests on exploiting resources for the benefit of the national economy. The strategy of means refers to how a state delivers the strategy of wealth, that is, the material and immaterial, civil, military, private and state capabilities that ensure the production of wealth. It consists of maintaining and projecting capabilities. These two strategies are inseparable and interdependent. A strategy of wealth without means is powerless, and a strategy of means without wealth lacks an objective. Admittedly, the French people’s maritime leanings are weak and France’s maritime strategy has often been hesitant. Nevertheless, for some ten years this maritime strategy has been asserting itself and becoming clearer. The country is favoured by its geography and the wealth of its overseas territory, and maintains a presence in all areas of maritime activity. The objectives of French maritime strategy are to protect and exploit its exclusive economic zone, develop its blue economy, enlarge its French-flagged fleet and, recently, re-establish dialogue between its merchant and military fleets.

4.2 The strategy of wealth: assessment of the blue economy

a) French maritime territory, the world’s second largest

France has the world’s second-largest maritime territory. Its exclusive economic zone (EEZ) covers 11.5 million km², equivalent to the area of the European continent, or seventeen times the size of France’s land territory (Eudeline, 2017, c). This space gives France a maritime presence on every ocean (figure no. 11) and makes it a neighbour of 31 countries. But the size of this territory is also a responsibility: France is home to 10% of the planet’s coral reefs and 20% of its atolls, making it a key player in preserving marine ecosystems. This maritime domain was extended further in 2015 by the EXTRAPLAC programme, which, through a decision of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf (CLCS), extended France’s EEZ by 579,000 km², notably off Martinique, Guadeloupe, French Guiana, New Caledonia and the Kerguelen Islands. It is indeed the Pacific and Indian Ocean overseas territories that make up most of France’s maritime territory. They account for 97% of the French EEZ, which shows how strategic the presence of these territories in the Republic is, and the policies to be pursued to foster their development and integration (Malgorn, 2019, e). The maritime space under French jurisdiction is set out in Ordinance no. 2016-1687 of 2016 on maritime spaces under the sovereignty or jurisdiction of the French Republic. Its overseas territories fall into three categories: the overseas departments and regions, known as DROM (Guadeloupe, Martinique, French Guiana, Réunion, Mayotte), the overseas collectivities, known as COM (Saint-Barthélemy, Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon, Saint-Martin, Wallis and Futuna, French Polynesia), and finally territories outside the DROM-COM, namely Clipperton Island, Corsica, New Caledonia and the French Southern and Antarctic Lands (TAAF)¹⁴. The overseas territories are levers of power. Through the EEZ that comes with them, they embody a French spatial footprint (Giron, 2019, a).

As for resources, France’s maritime territory contains few hydrocarbon reserves. The few oil drilling attempts were failures, and since 2017 a law has banned all offshore drilling in the French EEZ. Nevertheless, certain deep-sea areas off French Polynesia and Clipperton are rich in polymetallic nodules, a strategic resource concentrating rare metals indispensable to technological development; and fish stocks are abundant in the Channel and the Atlantic. In general, however, France preserves more than it exploits. The Scattered Islands, for example, have been described as “ocean sanctuaries of primitive nature”, and the Glorioso archipelago as a “national nature reserve”. While the maritime resources of the French domain, though promising, remain largely preserved, it is also the geography of mainland France that makes it a maritime power. Mainland France enjoys a particularly favourable geography (figure no. 12). It has three seaboards opening onto three seas and oceans: the Channel, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. This isthmus position between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, reinforced by the proximity of the Strait of Dover – one of the busiest in the world – is a strategic asset that is still under-exploited. The country also has 5,500 km of coastline¹⁵ in mainland France and nearly 20,000 km including all its overseas territories. Since the 1950s, this coastline has been increasingly developed. It benefits the national economy through ports and tourism. As the interface between land and sea, the coastline is also indispensable for projecting military forces. This dual role, both economic and military, gives it particular importance.

b) The share of the blue economy in the national economy

According to Admiral Dufourcq, the sea is one of France’s main reservoirs of growth (Dufourcq, 2016, e). Maritime activities generate turnover of around €52 billion a year, more than aeronautics or luxury goods. They form part of what is known as the “blue economy”. According to the European Union, the blue economy encompasses all sectors and industries related to oceans, seas and coasts, whether they are based directly in the marine environment (such as shipping, seafood supply or energy generation) or on land (such as ports, shipyards or coastal infrastructure) (EU, 2021). It is a multifaceted economy, covering shipbuilding, ship dismantling, shipping and cruises, yachting and coastal tourism, financial services and insurance, protection of resources and territories, energy, fishing and aquaculture, and ports. The French blue economy accounts for 310,000 direct jobs, excluding seasonal tourism, and 500,000 indirect jobs. These figures illustrate France’s “maritime depth” (Tourret, 2023, b) and the growing role of the oceans in the economy. And yet France tends to hoard its resources rather than exploit them. This approach, often guided by environmental imperatives, limits its sovereignty, particularly in energy, with the environment taking precedence over exploitation. As a result, the blue economy accounts for only 1.5% of French gross domestic product (GDP).

c) A specialised shipbuilding industry

French shipbuilding is a source of sovereignty and wealth. It is the heir to the great arsenals of the 17th century. At the instigation of Richelieu and Colbert, the French state created arsenals and developed major policies to support the naval industry so that France could cope with the maritime rivalries of European nations” (SGMer, 2022). Unquestionably, a degree of autonomy in shipbuilding is essential to maritime power. Innovation capacity is only relevant when shipyards are able to put it into practice. For a long time France knew how to build its ships, but this autonomy has weakened. It still excels in some sectors but has weaknesses in others. It invests unevenly in the maritime industry depending on the type of construction: large-tonnage so-called “simple” ships, such as oil tankers, bulk carriers and container ships, are mostly built in China, Korea and Japan; conversely, so-called “complex” ships, requiring technical know-how and experienced yards, such as LNG carriers or large cruise ships, can still be built in France. French civilian shipbuilding is therefore specialised in high value-added ships and certain high technologies and cutting-edge techniques. For example, French shipyards, like French shipowners, are pioneers in decarbonising shipping. According to the General Secretariat for the Sea, the first to be able to decarbonise ships will have a major advantage over their competitors (SGMer, 2022, d). France is also ahead on future propulsion systems such as sail, wind and nuclear. It has great capacity for innovation. Civilian shipbuilding in France is dominated by the Chantiers de l’Atlantique in Saint-Nazaire. This nationalised company is 84% owned by the state and 11.7% by Naval Group (SGMer, 2022, c). These yards build high-end cruise ships and are among the world’s three main cruise-ship builders. However, they increasingly face Chinese competition. The Beneteau and Jeanneau yards, specialised in sailing and motor pleasure boats, are world leaders in building sailing yachts. They are a real asset for the country. The French nautical industry ranks second in the world and first in Europe (CESM & Académie de marine, 2024, a). 72.4% of this output is exported. Other yards, such as the Piriou yards based in Concarneau, build small vessels such as offshore patrol vessels, ocean patrol vessels, launches and fast interceptors. Nearly 70% of French production of small and medium-sized vessels is for export. The main partners of French shipyards are Saudi Arabia, India, Algeria, Senegal, Nigeria, Egypt and Brazil. However, global competition is intensifying, even in the segments where the French naval industry excels. Europe carries little weight in civilian shipbuilding worldwide, as it suffers from the dominance of Asian yards, which are massively supported by their governments. This distorts competition, since EU rules prohibit member states from granting public subsidies to their national yards. South Korean yards thus dominate civilian shipbuilding by value, while Chinese yards, with their industrial capacity, monopolise the market by volume. Under this pressure, European industry struggles to compete despite its historical know-how. Militarily, on the other hand, French shipbuilding shines. Naval Group is Europe’s leading military naval industry and is present in nineteen countries. The group is a European defence leader and ranks among the world’s top builders of warships. It is two-thirds owned by the French state and one-third by Thales. Specialised in nuclear propulsion, the company produces few traditional surface ships. However, it has expertise in building submarines and high-tech military vessels, which allows it to export French know-how worldwide. In 2021, for example, Naval Group sold three Belharra military frigates to Greece for €3 billion. These are defence and intervention frigates, smaller and cheaper than the French FREMMs. They are built in Lorient, and the missiles are supplied by the French giant MBDA. Delivery is expected at the end of 2025. Through Naval Group, France is thus able to build nuclear submarines, amphibious helicopter carriers, aircraft carriers and frigates of all types. However, it too tends to suffer from Chinese competition. Every four years China builds the equivalent of the French combat fleet, whereas in France it takes nearly 10 years between ordering a ship and its entry into service.

4.3 The strategy of means: a high-performing but numerically weak navy

a) The missions of the French Navy

The French Navy is both an instrument for preserving sovereignty, capable of asserting France’s rights over its maritime spaces, and a tool for contesting an adversary’s sovereignty when national interests are threatened. Through its influence and deterrence missions, it is the tangible expression of French maritime power and positions itself as the guarantor of security at sea. It secures maritime spaces, protects strategic routes and monitors the exclusive economic zone. Since the launch of the nuclear ballistic missile submarine (SSBN) Redoutable in 1969, the Navy has remained in the front line of national defence. It carries out a broad spectrum of missions ranging “from surveillance to policing, from humanitarian assistance to hunting down disruptors of all kinds (trafficking, people smuggling, narcos, pirates, terrorists...) and to high-intensity combat in combined and coalition air-maritime and air-land operations” (Dufourcq, 2016, f). It preserves peace and defends France’s interests through five missions: Intelligence, Prevention, Intervention, Protection, Deterrence. The French Navy plays a very active part in State Action at Sea, known as AEM. The AEM refers to enforcing the law and exercising sovereign functions. The term covers all sovereign actions carried out at sea. Its main missions are defending France’s sovereignty, guaranteeing maritime security, maintaining public order at sea, combating illicit activities, safeguarding people and property, and protecting the environment. State Action at Sea is thus interministerial by nature. It is therefore coordinated by the General Secretariat for the Sea. As already mentioned, France’s immense maritime territory must be seen more in terms of responsibility than of opportunity. It is State Action at Sea that best embodies this responsibility.

b) The strengths of the French Navy

France has a very effective navy because it is highly diversified. Although only 7th in the world in terms of tonnage, it has very broad technical skills. Indeed, in Europe, France is today the only navy with the full range of naval capabilities (Rogel, 2016, c). It is the most powerful navy in the European Union. Although it lacks a second aircraft carrier, the French Navy has all types of units. These are divided among the Navy’s four main organic forces:

• the naval action force (FAN), relying on nearly 100 surface ships (one aircraft carrier, three amphibious helicopter carriers, two command and replenishment ships (BCR), twenty frigates of various kinds, patrol vessels, minehunters, hydrographic and oceanographic ships, training ships…);
• the submarine forces and the strategic oceanic force (FOST), made up of four nuclear ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) and six nuclear attack submarines (SSNs);
• the naval aviation force (ALAVIA), the French Navy’s air component;
• the marine infantry and commando force (FORFUSCO), comprising 7 commandos and 9 marine infantry units;
• to which can be added the Marseille Naval Fire Battalion and the Maritime Gendarmerie.

These forces employ 40,000 French sailors. These resources allow the French Navy to maintain permanent watch, react quickly and deploy discreetly. Its ships are powerful enough to go far and stay at sea for long periods (Rousseau, 2013, d). France also has a carrier strike group (known as the GAN) built around the aircraft carrier Charles de Gaulle. It was deployed in the Mediterranean in 2022 with twenty-two Rafales, three helicopters and two airborne early-warning aircraft. This strategy of means makes it possible to combine the postures of a raiding navy with those of a navy of presence (Dufourcq, 2016, g). France also has effective naval diplomacy, that is, the use of maritime forces as a tool of influence in international relations. Naval diplomacy consists of deploying ships to assert presence, strengthen partnerships and show the power to act. It can take the form of military exercises or a deterrent presence in areas of tension. Its aim is to influence the behaviour of other actors. According to Hervé Coutau-Bégarie, French naval diplomacy has been among the most effective in the world since the 1970s. The French Navy thus masters all forms of maritime action under, on and above the surface (Eudeline, 2017, d). It is characterised by a high level of professionalism and technical skill. It reflects France’s choice of high technology over numbers.

c) A numerical weakness, however

However, the French Navy’s resources are not numerically commensurate with France’s maritime territory. During the 1990s, states, especially European ones, tended to favour the technological and qualitative development of their weaponry over quantity. This choice led to a loss of production capacity. As a result, Western navies now face the traditional “Lepanto trap”, namely the illusion that tactical victory automatically leads to strategic success, forgetting the industrial and logistical factor (Mazzucchi, 2024, f). Yet the balance between numbers and sophistication is paramount. France has not yet found the right balance between ubiquity and aggressiveness. It has cutting-edge ships, expensive and few in number, but lacks second-rank ships, less costly but numerous, to ensure its presence everywhere at sea. It has only one aircraft carrier, and building a second is estimated at around €3 billion (Royer, 2012, c).

This reduction in resources is accompanied by a fall in personnel and a trend towards less specialised military vessels. Multi-mission frigates are an expression of this. This de-specialisation has the advantage of allowing a frigate to intervene rapidly anywhere in the world against multiple threats. The versatility of the forces makes them capable of dealing with any type of threat, with endurance and autonomy. Their mobility and versatility partly compensate for their small number. The French Navy ranks first in Europe, ahead of the Royal Navy. It has very good operational know-how, which it regularly maintains. After several decades of reductions in the French Navy’s capabilities, the Military Programming Law (LPM) is increasing its budget.

d) A capacity for ubiquity? Geography of the French Navy

Although the French Navy has few units, France permanently deploys combat units in various theatres of operations such as the Persian Gulf, the northern Indian Ocean, the eastern Mediterranean, the North Atlantic and the Gulf of Guinea. It has major naval bases (figure no. 13) responsible for organising operational support and serving as joint projection ports. France has bases all over the world: in Djibouti, Abu Dhabi, Mayotte, Réunion, New Caledonia, French Guiana, the French Antilles, French Polynesia and Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon. The Abidjan and Dakar bases were handed back to Côte d’Ivoire on 20 February 2025 and to Senegal on 17 July 2025 respectively. France maintains a permanent military presence in the Indian Ocean. In Djibouti, 1,500 military personnel are deployed, and in the United Arab Emirates, 650 personnel from all services (Assemblée nationale, 2025, c). French forces and bases are thus present in the eastern Indian Ocean, at the strategic points of the Mozambique Channel, the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait and the Strait of Hormuz. With its overseas territories and military bases, France plays a significant role in the stability of the region. As regards its missions and operations, the French Navy combines combat missions, securing maritime flows, humanitarian support and sovereignty over overseas territories. These can be divided into two types: overseas (OPEX) and international operations, and permanent sovereignty and security missions. France takes part in Operation EUNAVFOR MED Irini in the central Mediterranean. This operation was launched on 31 March 2020 to enforce the UN arms embargo on Libya. France contributes by sending ships such as frigates, and naval air forces. It is also involved in Operation EUNAVFOR Atalanta in the Gulf of Aden. Launched in 2008, it aims to combat maritime piracy off Somalia. France takes part in Operation EUNAVFOR Aspides, launched on 19 February 2024 in response to Houthi attacks on merchant ships in the Red Sea. It helps protect commercial ships by regularly sending an air-defence frigate. Finally, France joined Operation EMASOH Agenor in the Persian Gulf to secure maritime traffic and defend freedom of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz. It also carries out permanent sovereignty and security missions, such as Mission Corymbe in the Gulf of Guinea. French ships are present there almost permanently to combat piracy and maritime trafficking and to support local navies. Mission Jeanne d’Arc is the annual deployment of an amphibious group, providing training for officer cadets and a demonstration of naval power, often in the Indo-Pacific. Finally, Mission Clémenceau is the major deployment of the French carrier strike group (GAN) built around the aircraft carrier Charles de Gaulle. It takes place roughly every 18 to 24 months. In 2024 it focused on the Indo-Pacific, with port calls in India, Indonesia and Japan.

The French Navy is thus among the most powerful in Europe and the world. It manages to make its presence felt through numerous operations and missions. However, a navy is not enough to make France a maritime power. Indeed, maritime power is not naval power (Giron, 2023, d). While the terms were long interchangeable, they are now distinct. Naval power refers to the navy in the service of State Action at Sea. It is the exercise of sovereign functions in maritime space. Naval power is essential, as it is a condition for freedom of trade and access to resources. Maritime power, for its part, is a capacity, conceived at the scale of the whole territory, to develop the oceans sustainably for one’s own benefit (Giron, 2023, e). A navy is therefore not enough to make a state a maritime power. It must also have a large and diverse merchant navy.

5. A merchant navy as a source of wealth and influence

5.1 A diverse and structured merchant navy

a) Definition of the merchant navy

The merchant navy is an industry, in that, with all the related activities it generates, from shipbuilding to port trades, it contributes to the production of wealth (Cassagnou, 2002, a). The term merchant navy refers to the whole “merchant fleet”, which, according to the Directorate General for Maritime Affairs, Fisheries and Aquaculture (DGAMPA, 2025, a), is divided into a transport fleet (oil tankers, liquefied gas carriers, container ships, ro-ros, cargo ships, cruise ships…) and a maritime services fleet (cable ships, oceanographic research vessels, sand dredgers, offshore support vessels, training ships…). This definition excludes vessels under 100 GT¹⁶, passenger ships in coastal navigation, barges, pontoons, harbour launches and all vessels assigned to policing, customs or sea rescue. According to the DGAMPA report, the French merchant fleet therefore comprises ships engaged in passenger transport, maritime services and yachting, but not fishing. The merchant navy is thus characterised by its dual function, commercial and service. The whole merchant fleet flying the French flag is described as “French”. The flag is the national ensign a ship flies, indicating its country of registration and the jurisdiction to which it is subject. A ship belonging to a foreign shipowner can therefore perfectly well fly the French flag. For example, the MSC Bellissima, operated by the Italian-Swiss company MSC Cruises, was for a time registered in the French International Register (RIF) and flew the French flag, although the company is not French. The French merchant fleet numbered 441 ships on 1 January 2025, including 213 transport ships and 228 maritime services ships. Overall, there are 590 French-flagged ships. They employ 18,000 seafarers¹⁷ and 6,000 shore-based workers. According to the historian Bernard Cassagnou, the French merchant fleet has experienced two successive realities: a period of growth and a deep crisis (Cassagnou, 2002, b). From the world’s 5th-largest fleet in 1950, it ranked 24th in 2025 after a dramatic decline during the 1980s. Nevertheless, its controlled fleet¹⁸ is larger and places it 19th in the world (DGAMPA, 2025, b). The French fleet is also one of the safest and youngest. The average age of the French transport fleet was 7 years on 1 July 2025, while the average age of the world fleet is 16.7 years. It is the youngest and most modern in Europe. In addition, the French-flagged fleet is very diverse. It covers various strategic fields that can prove very useful for French sovereignty.

b) A diverse fleet

The French merchant fleet specialises in container transport, laying and maintaining submarine cables, offshore services and polar cruising alike. It is the most decarbonised fleet in the world. It includes oil tankers, gas carriers, container ships, ro-ros and ferries¹⁹, cruise ships, passenger launches, cable ships, oceanographic vessels, dredgers²⁰, tugs and pilot boats. Some large French companies specialise in a particular field. This is the case of CMA CGM for container transport, Louis Dreyfus Armateurs (LDA) and Orange Marine for cable ships, Compagnie Maritime Nantaise for freight and ro-ro, Jifmar and Bourbon for offshore services, and Compagnie du Ponant for luxury cruises. Unlike the French Navy, which has gradually become multi-purpose, the merchant navy has on the contrary specialised with the advent of ships dedicated to specific types of goods, such as oil tankers, LNG carriers, container ships and ro-ro ships.

c) The merchant–shipowner system

The “merchant–shipowner” system, still in force today, dates back to the 19th century. Its essence is the separation of ownership of the goods from ownership of the ship. In other words, the shipowner makes their ship available to carry the goods without owning them. Whether owner or charterer of the ship, they are responsible for equipping and maintaining it and organising the transport. The shipowner is the one who operates the ship in their own name (Lambert, 2024, b). This model profoundly transformed maritime trade, as it allowed actors to specialise. On one side, traders handle the buying, selling and movement of goods; on the other, shipowners manage and operate the ships. This separation favoured the development of a more diversified and professional merchant fleet, while accelerating the growth of international trade. French shipping and maritime services companies are organised around Armateurs de France, a professional organisation founded in 1903. Its aim is to defend these companies’ interests and represent them before the public authorities. Admittedly, the tonnage carried under the French flag represents only 0.4% of world tonnage²¹, and only 27 of the CMA CGM group’s 650 ships sail under the French flag. However, French shipowners, through their name, their roots and their contribution to the national economy, are an integral part of France’s influence and maritime power. They also specialise in fields that are very often strategic for the state.

5.2 A French strategic asset

Several merchant navy companies and shipowners are world leaders. Their influence goes beyond mere transport or service functions: they display the French flag, place France high in certain world rankings and help safeguard French skills and know-how.

a) CMA CGM: from container carrier to global logistics giant The CMA CGM group²² is the world’s third-largest container carrier. It is on its way to becoming a giant of multimodal logistics (Académie de marine, 2024, b). With its direct competitors, MSC (a Swiss carrier) and Maersk (a Danish company), it controls more than one third of world TEU capacity. These three European transport giants are closely followed by the Chinese group COSCO. This concentration of tonnage in the hands of four large groups amounts to an oligopoly. Competitiveness and comparative advantage depend on economies of scale and technological advantage, which explains the very high concentration of these various sectors around a few very large industrial groups of global scope (SGMer, 2022, f). The recent history of shipping has confirmed this: the euphoria of 2005-2006, marked by rising consumption and falling transport prices, gave way abruptly in 2008 to a crisis of overcapacity. Shipowners, heavily loss-making, had to cut their fleets and embark on a broad movement of consolidation. This is the origin of the oligopoly that now structures the global maritime industry. In 1978, Jacques Saadé founded the Compagnie Maritime d’Affrètement (CMA). He was one of the first to see the profitability of the container, saving space and time and allowing considerable volumes of goods to be carried. The company first grew in the Mediterranean, then towards Asia. In 1994 it became the second-largest shipping company between Asia and northern Europe. In 1996, CMA acquired the Compagnie Générale Maritime (CGM). The two merged shortly afterwards, making CMA CGM the world’s 12th-largest shipping company. In the 21st century, the group developed lines to the Caribbean, then the Americas, Oceania, West Africa, the United States and the Indian Ocean, gradually acquiring the scale that characterises it today. CMA CGM is now present in 160 countries, operates on nearly 300 shipping lines, has 150,000 employees and operates more than 650 ships²³. The company serves 420 of the world’s 521 main commercial ports. The group owns the largest container ships and keeps innovating in this field. The container ship CMA CGM Jacques Saadé has a capacity of 23,000 twenty-foot equivalent units (TEU) and is 400 metres long. It is the world’s largest container ship powered by liquefied natural gas (LNG). CMA CGM is becoming a fully fledged logistics company. The group has several road, rail, river and now air transport subsidiaries to carry containers from the place of production to the terminals. More than 22 million TEU are carried by the company each year.” (SGMer, 2022, g). It seeks to control the entire logistics chain and has around 1,000 warehouses worldwide for this purpose. In 1990, the company adopted a port acquisition strategy. It was in this context that it acquired CEVA Logistics in 2019, a leading freight management company. The “landlord port”²⁴ model has become the dominant model of port management worldwide. In this model, the port authority, which owns the infrastructure and land, leases terminals to operators who run them. It has led to a partial privatisation of port operations, favouring the entry of liner companies and international operators into terminal management (Debrie, 2012). Using this model, the CMA CGM group manages more than 50 terminals²⁵ through two subsidiaries: CMA TERMINALS and TERMINAL LINK (figure no. 14). CMA CGM is building itself into a transport giant suited to the global scale of our economies (Tourret, 2023, c). In 2022 it became the most profitable company in the entire history of the French economy. The French merchant navy can thus be seen as an actor in the organisation and appropriation of maritime space. By structuring flows of goods and gradually mastering the whole logistics chain, it contributes to France’s power projection on the seas. CMA CGM’s role now goes beyond that of a carrier: the company contributes to securing strategic supplies and developing the national economy.

Source: SGMer, 2022

b) Cable ships: a strategic fleet

France particularly excels in the submarine cable sector, including cable laying and maintenance. It holds a leading position in this highly strategic field, essential to global communications. It enjoys an advantageous geographical position (figure no. 15): its seaboards allow it to connect to the dense network of submarine cables, and the city of Marseille has become a hub, already hosting eight international cables via the Mediterranean (SGMer, 2022, h). This centrality requires France to preserve and develop its skills in cable laying and maintenance, which it does through a fleet of 13 cable ships. Two French players dominate this sector and hold 30% of the world cable-ship fleet: Alcatel Submarine Networks (ASN) and Orange Marine. Orange Marine operates six cable ships, three of them under the French flag, representing 15% of the world fleet. ASN, for its part, has seven ships (five for laying and two for maintenance). Since 27 June 2024, the French state has owned 80% of ASN following an agreement with Nokia, consolidating French sovereignty in this field. ASN is one of the three world leaders in cable laying and maintenance, alongside Japan’s NEC and America’s SubCom. ASN’s seven ships are operated by Louis Dreyfus Armateurs (LDA), which manages the crews and carries out operations at sea. A major player in the sector, LDA also operates six laying and six maintenance ships, and has helped connect Africa to high-speed Internet (Metzger, 2014, d). Industrial production is also mastered in France, thanks to a factory in Calais capable of producing 50,000 km of cable a year. Thus in France, the diversity of access points, operators and cable owners makes any loss of Internet connectivity unlikely in practice (Boullier, 2014). While France is a world leader in this field, Chinese competition and the emergence of the GAFAM constantly demand gains in competitiveness (SGMer, 2022, i).

French seaboards in 2025

c) France, a leader in underwater exploration

Underwater intervention in the deep sea, which has become essential for laying cables or exploiting resources, requires good knowledge of the seabed. As Nicolas Mazzucchi points out, without precise and up-to-date knowledge, it is impossible to seriously envisage control of the seabed (Mazzucchi, 2024, g). In this field, France has notable scientific and technical assets. IFREMER (the French Research Institute for Exploitation of the Sea) has an oceanographic fleet of ten ships, soon to be joined by the exploration vessel Polar Pod, as well as submersibles capable of reaching depths of 6,000 metres. DRASSM (the Department of Underwater and Undersea Archaeological Research) has four ships built by the H2X shipyard in La Ciotat: Alfred Merlin for operations in the Mediterranean, André Malraux for the Atlantic and the Channel, Triton for the mainland coasts and Kerguelen for the overseas territories. These ships illustrate French know-how in underwater archaeology. The civilian oceanographic research fleet thus serves the state: it makes it possible to know French maritime spaces better and therefore to secure them. As Bernadette Malgorn, a former regional prefect, points out, public authorities sometimes take time to identify opportunities, leaving more agile entities to seize them, even if they then become threats to the proper exploitation of resources and the exercise of sovereignty (Malgorn, 2019, f). Oceanography is therefore taking a growing place in the definition of maritime power.

d) Shipowners specialising in offshore

France has a significant fleet in the offshore sector. It comprises 54 service units dedicated to supporting platform activities. The main players include the Bourbon group, which operates 28 vessels specialised in logistical support operations, notably anchor handling tug supply vessels (AHTS)²⁶. Some vessels assist platforms, others carry out underwater works. Alongside Bourbon, Louis Dreyfus Armateurs (LDA) also contributes to this sector with three offshore supply vessels dedicated to logistics and transporting equipment between land and offshore installations. These two shipowners illustrate France’s capacity to maintain know-how in a highly technical field at the crossroads of energy and maritime affairs.

e) Luxury cruising

While the cruise sector is dominated overall by large foreign groups, France stands out for its high-end cruises. Compagnie du Ponant, founded in 1988 by Jean-Emmanuel Sauvée, now president of the Académie de marine, is the emblematic example. Ponant has established itself on the market by promoting maritime ecotourism and responsible luxury. Its ships favour expeditions to exceptional destinations such as the poles, remote islands and listed sites. This focus on eco-responsible cruises gives France an original place in this sector, unquestionably a source of influence.

5.3 Sectors in need of revitalisation

a) Uncompetitive French ports

It must be acknowledged that [France’s] privileged position on three seaboards is not reflected in the performance and results of [its] ports (Metzger, 2014, e). Despite the existence of many ports – military, commercial or leisure – no French port appears in the list of the ten largest European ports, nor even among the top fifty ports worldwide. The French port system is organised into two main categories (figure no. 16): on the one hand, state seaports, made up of the ten major seaports²⁷ (GPM); on the other, decentralised ports, mostly geared to yachting but some of which remain important for fishing or trade. Since the decentralisation laws of 1983 and 2004, their management has been entrusted to local authorities. France today has 66 commercial seaports, but the ten major seaports (GPM) alone account for 80% of national traffic. Among them, only the port of Le Havre seems to show potential: after adapting to containers, it is now positioning itself on the decarbonisation of port activities. Thanks to deep-water quays, it can accommodate 18,000 TEU container ships. Nevertheless, this port suffers from the under-development of its hinterland, which is indispensable for redistributing goods and for a port’s success. Indeed, port recovery is played out more on land than at sea (Vidil, 2015): the choice of a port of call now depends as much on the quality of land and river connections as on port costs. This lag is aggravated by chronic under-investment, administrative complexity, a lack of cooperation between authorities (national, local and inter-municipal) and poor quality of service, particularly for pre- and post-carriage by rail and river (Ducruet, 2024, a). The same is true of the port of Marseille, often considered the best hinterland port in the Mediterranean. Yet its reach is limited by France’s low population density and the continental character of the French economy. Traffic at the seven largest mainland ports has fallen back to its 2000 level, i.e. 310 million tonnes of freight, whereas the port of Rotterdam alone handled 470 million in 2019. In 2017, 42% of French foreign trade passed through neighbouring Belgian, Dutch or Spanish ports (Ducruet, 2024, b). This results in a “leakage” of around two million containers a year to the ports of Antwerp, Barcelona or Genoa. Since the mid-1990s, the share of French ports in total European traffic has been in continuous decline (Ducruet, 2024, c). Faced with this situation, the state has undertaken several reforms. The 2008 port reform brought the ports of Le Havre, Rouen and Paris together within HAROPA Port, which has become the fifth-largest port complex in northern Europe. More recently, a national port strategy was adopted in June 2021. It focuses on the digitalisation of ports, the energy transition and the development of links with the hinterland, particularly by rail and inland waterway. Despite their difficulties, the major seaports contribute very substantially to the economic development of the territories in which they are located (SGMer, 2022, j), and remain levers for strengthening French sovereignty. Finally, overseas ports occupy a special place in the French system (figure no. 16). The ports of Port-Réunion (CMA CGM’s hub in the Indian Ocean), Pointe-à-Pitre (Guadeloupe) and Fort-de-France (Martinique) are among France’s ten leading container ports. However, the overseas departments and regions suffer from limited maritime integration, as they remain on the margins of the major world shipping routes and mainly provide regional services.

b) Declining fishery production

France has about 13,000 fishers and nearly 6,000 fishing vessels. However, the sector is structurally fragile. The fishing fleet is steadily shrinking and ageing, and the sector suffers from a lack of renewal. France is only the fourth-largest fishing and aquaculture producer in the European Union, far behind Spain, the United Kingdom and Denmark. As a result, it has to import nearly 70% of the fish it consumes. In addition to these economic difficulties there are social tensions: the profession, considered arduous and unattractive, struggles to attract new generations. Fishing remains heavily in deficit and the profession struggles to attract recruits (SGMer, 2022, k), which limits its role in the French maritime economy.

Thus, despite some room for improvement, notably in the port and fisheries sectors, France remains present and competitive in many fields thanks to its merchant navy. Under its flag are some of the world’s largest container ships, most existing cable ships and high-performing offshore support vessels. Today clearly distinct from the French Navy, the merchant navy was long considered an essential tool complementary to the navy. Proof of this is that in France the two navies developed consecutively and were long administered together. While France has and maintains a cutting-edge navy and a strategic merchant navy, it would benefit from bringing them together within a comprehensive fleet strategy.

6. Turning the strategy of means into a comprehensive fleet strategy

As mentioned above²⁸, maritime strategy consists of a strategy of wealth and a strategy of means. The strategy of means refers to how a state delivers the strategy of wealth through its material and immaterial, civil and military, private and state capabilities. The aim now is to show to what extent the French-flagged merchant fleet is an integral part of this strategy of means. The strategy of means must therefore be approached as a comprehensive fleet strategy, taking into account the interdependence between the two navies. The navies need to be conceived and directed coherently, through a dual strategy that is both military and commercial. Developing a comprehensive French fleet strategy first requires pursuing two objectives: increasing the number of ships under the national flag, and improving cooperation between the military and merchant navies.

6.1 The historical interdependence of the merchant and military navies

A state’s maritime power is measured not only by its navy, but also depends on the size and quality of its shipping companies sailing under the national flag, since their roles are inseparable and complementary (Vallat, 2014, b). Studying history, it appears necessary for a state to have both a navy and a merchant navy. Both are useful separately, but they are inseparable, even indispensable to each other. The need for significant commercial projection by sea creates the need for a navy able to protect it, which in turn leads to having commercial and military footholds along the main routes (Mazzucchi, 2024, h). Freedom of manoeuvre at sea, guaranteed by the Navy, is a prerequisite for freedom of trade. For a state to develop its maritime trade, it must have a navy capable of securing routes and protecting its interests. The merchant navy is an indispensable logistical tool for supplying the country and integrating it into international trade. The Navy protects this logistical tool. This interdependence between the French merchant navy and the French Navy explains their common origins in the 17th century.

a) A long-standing ambition to conquer the seas commercially and militarily In the 17th century, French kings and ministers became aware of the benefits France could draw from the open sea. Henri IV already asserted that, to achieve greatness, France had to be as strong and powerful at sea as it is strong, feared and respected on land (Caron, 2008, d). After him, it was Richelieu and Colbert who turned their attention to the sea. In 1624, when Richelieu became Louis XIII’s chief minister, he wanted to make France a maritime power. He quickly understood that a navy was not enough to establish French maritime power, which rested above all on commercial activity. A few decades later, Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Louis XIV’s chief minister of state, confirmed that a navy not matched by a parallel development of maritime trade and fishing, and that does not have trading posts and military posts far from the home coasts – in a word, colonies – to rely on, is merely a luxury navy, destined sooner or later to disappear (Caron, 2008, e). This explains why Colbert, as the first Secretary of State for the Navy, was responsible both for the navy and for the Compagnie des Indes, allowing the merchant navy and the navy to develop together.

b) Navies intertwined through maritime registration

The links between the merchant navy and the French Navy are long-standing (Assemblée nationale, 2025, d). Under Louis XIV, between 1668 and 1673, Colbert introduced the system of classes, requiring seafarers, whether fishers or merchant sailors, to serve periodically on the king’s ships²⁹. By 1673, 26,000 seafarers were part of this system. This organisation was strengthened by the ordinance of April 1689, which placed all seafarers, civilian and military, under a single authority, the Admiralty. Later, the decree of Brumaire Year IV (October 1795) turned this system into maritime registration (inscription maritime), that is, the official registration of persons who could be called up to serve in the navy. This institution, the forerunner of the Maritime Affairs service created in 1967, lasted throughout the colonial periods (17th-18th centuries), marking the continuity between civilian and military navies. It enabled merchant seafarers to be trained in defence and security issues. It would seem appropriate today to recreate such synergies between the navies, in a context where security issues are becoming more pressing.

c) A recent drifting apart of the navies

Changes in the legal and economic framework in the 20th century profoundly transformed relations between the merchant and military navies. The law of 9 July 1965 reforming national service and abolishing maritime registration led to the decline of a centuries-old cooperation system. According to Admiral Pierre-François Forissier, there is a before and an after the abolition of national service³⁰. Merchant seafarers used to do their military service in the French Navy. He himself explains that he sailed with fishers and merchant seafarers. Thus during the Cold War and until 1991, cooperation between the navies was structured and organised. National service allowed merchant navy officer cadets to serve as midshipmen in the French Navy, master operational practices, be prepared for combat and replenishment operations, and be introduced to intelligence practices³¹. The two navies retained certain reflexes. With the abolition of national service, this link loosened. From the 1990s onwards, the separation between the two navies widened under the combined effect of the privatisation of the merchant sector and cuts in the budgetary and human resources allocated to defence. This development broke the complementarity that had long been a strategic asset. It weakened the capacity for national mobilisation in a context where the maritime dimension nevertheless remains essential. The growing interdependence between the merchant and military navies shows that a state’s strategy of means can no longer be confined to the military sphere. An effective naval policy must necessarily be linked to the state’s commercial and industrial strategy. In other words, security, power projection and the protection of economic interests cannot be separated: they are two sides of the same comprehensive fleet strategy. In this context, developing a French-flagged merchant fleet is not merely an economic matter. It is an essential instrument of this strategic coherence, benefiting the state.

6.2 Integrating the merchant fleet into the strategy of means: the value of a French-flagged fleet

a) Definition of the flag

The flag denotes a ship’s legal nationality, that is, the country in which it is registered and under whose jurisdiction it falls on the high seas (GéoConfluences, 2024). It is compulsory for every vessel, as it determines the applicable law, the technical and social standards to be met, and the diplomatic protection it may enjoy (Armateurs de France, 2020). Article 91 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) specifies that there must be a “genuine link” between the state and the ship, the former being required to exercise control in administrative, technical and social matters. While the notion of flag refers to nationality and international jurisdiction, that of the register is more a matter of domestic law and the taxation imposed by the state concerned. The shipowner therefore chooses a given flag according to the security it represents, the crewing standards it imposes and the corresponding taxation.

Since the Second World War, the principle of free registration has favoured the development of “flags of convenience”. These flags are offered by states that care little about the link with the shipowner and are characterised by low taxation, limited controls and the possibility of recruiting foreign crews at lower cost (ISEMAR, 2008, a). Shipowners, originally American, turned to these flags, which are less restrictive in terms of taxation and labour law. According to the OECD, these flags, adopted notably in Liberia or Panama, are characterised by easy access to registers, the absence of effective control by the state and minimal social and technical regulation. Today, around 60% of world tonnage sails under a flag different from the nationality of its owner, revealing a growing dissociation: the countries owning ships are mostly developed states, while the states of registration are concentrated among developing countries (UNCTAD, 2024, c).

b) The various French registers

The French flag stands out for the diversity of its registers and the high social, environmental and safety standards it imposes. Granted through six separate registers, it has been recognised by the International Chamber of Shipping (ICS) for the quality of its standards. Unlike flags of convenience, European registers – including France’s – guarantee high levels of wages, training and working conditions, which, however, mean higher operating costs for shipowners (ISEMAR, 2008, b). To be registered in France, a ship must meet strict conditions set by the Customs Code: it must be at least 50% owned by an EU national, be operated by a company located in France and comply with French social and environmental law and safety regulations. Among the six French registers, there is first the First Register (or mainland register). It mainly covers ferry companies, port services and national coastal shipping. It has 191 ships of more than 100 GT. The French International Register (RIF), for its part, is intended for deep-sea trade, aims to be more attractive and allows the proportion of EU-national crew to be limited to 25%. It has 196 ships of more than 100 GT. In addition there are the overseas registers: the Kerguelen register for the TAAF, the Wallis and Futuna register for cruise ships, and those of French Polynesia and New Caledonia. These four registers cover 57 ships of more than 100 GT. This system illustrates France’s effort to reconcile the attractiveness of its flag with quality requirements, in a sector highly exposed to international competition.

c) The value of a national-flag fleet

Maintaining a merchant navy under the national flag involves many stakes, which go beyond the mere transport of goods. In terms of sovereignty, the national-flag fleet helps secure supply chains and guarantee the country’s economic independence. The presence of French shipowners on world trade routes is indispensable to preserving the continuity of trade, whether oil tankers, bulk carriers or container ships over which the state must be able to exercise control (Berneron-Couvenhes, 2001). Economically, the crisis of the French fleet in the 1980s showed how much its weakening could affect employment, energy independence and maritime security. Governments thus became aware of the role of the national-flag fleet in national recovery (Cassagnou, 2002, c). The flag generates tax revenue, provides jobs and contributes to the competitiveness of foreign trade. Beyond these aspects, the national-flag fleet performs a strategic watch function. The presence of French ships on every sea contributes to economic, geopolitical and environmental information, to monitoring routes and to protecting waters under national jurisdiction (CSMM, 2017, a). In addition, the size of the national fleet determines a state’s level of representation in bodies such as the International Maritime Organization (IMO), the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD), the International Labour Organization (ILO) and the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO) (ISEMAR, 2008, c). This influence is all the more crucial for a country with a vast EEZ such as France. Finally, a merchant fleet under the national flag is an operational lever in a crisis. It allows ships to be requisitioned for defence, strategic transport or humanitarian missions. This is what the concept of the “strategic fleet” refers to. Thus, the state grants its protection to ships flying its flag; in return, it satisfies its political interests by enriching its fleet (ISEMAR, 2008, d). A merchant navy under the national flag is therefore a lever of independence in the face of geopolitical hazards. A large merchant fleet contributes to a country’s international visibility. It also creates a network of ports: regular calls at foreign ports foster diplomatic and commercial influence. However, the size of the French fleet does not match the country’s maritime ambition. The current challenge is to revitalise the flag.

6.3 Revitalising the French flag

The question of revitalising the French flag is pressing in the face of international competition and the growing importance of flags of convenience. Historically, the operating costs of French ships have always been higher than those of their competitors. According to Jacques Marchegay, general delegate of the Central Committee of French Shipowners from 1955 to 1964, this is an endemic phenomenon that has always weighed on the French merchant navy (quoted by Cassagnou, 2002, d). This situation results from demanding social regulation, pioneering from the 1930s-1940s, which ensured decent working conditions for seafarers but also raised costs for shipowners. According to Armateurs de France, for a ro-ro ship, personnel costs represent 11.2% of annual costs under the French First Register, compared with 8.14% under a European international register (ISEMAR, 2008, e). However, this requirement helps make the French flag one of the safest in the world. The challenge is therefore to strike a balance between the flag’s safety, attractiveness and economic viability. To respond to competition, France followed the trend of “second registers” initiated in the 1970s by other states. These flags allow a majority of non-national seafarers to be employed and are a halfway house between safe but restrictive flags and flags of convenience. The creation in 2005 of the French International Register (RIF) follows this logic, allowing up to 75% non-European crew while maintaining a certain legal framework. These adaptations aim to make the flag more competitive without abandoning its fundamental requirements. More recently, the Fontenoy du maritime initiative, launched in 2020, set itself the goal of making the flag more attractive to investors and strengthening the French merchant fleet (SGMer, 2022, l). Results are beginning to show: 108 ships have registered with the RIF since 2017 (DGAMPA, 2025, c). This revitalisation strategy is part of a tradition of state support for the merchant fleet. From 1928 until 1992, a law required oil importers to carry two thirds of the volumes intended for national needs under the French flag. This measure was decisive in developing the tanker fleet before and after the Second World War. Since 1992, a similar obligation has guaranteed French-flagged transport capacity equivalent to 5.5% of national crude imports (Cassagnou, 2002, e). In addition, tax and financial schemes such as the tonnage tax, exemptions from employee and employer social contributions and maritime leasing strengthen shipowners’ competitiveness. France is thus trying to adapt its flag to the realities of globalisation while preserving its historic strengths of safety and social quality.

French maritime power must not be reduced to the performance of its navy alone. It rests on a broader balance, combining the state’s strategic capabilities with the vitality of its merchant fleet and the attractiveness of its flag. The interdependence of the two navies is an asset for a country’s sovereignty and security, as well as a lever of economic prosperity and influence. Yet competition from flags of convenience and the weakening of the French fleet underline the need to rethink a comprehensive fleet strategy, capable of reconciling social and environmental requirements, economic competitiveness and defence imperatives. France’s challenge is to strengthen cooperation between its military and merchant navies. Once operational, such cooperation will guarantee French independence and sovereignty.

Chapter III – Cooperation between the navies as a decisive factor of French Sea Power

Faced with rising hybrid threats and the growing dependence of economies on maritime flows, cooperation between the French Navy and the merchant navy is becoming a key issue of Sea Power. France needs to integrate its merchant fleet into its power apparatus in order to protect its vital supplies and ensure respect for its sovereignty at sea. Through various schemes and joint exercises, the state and shipowners are trying to recreate synergy between the navies. The strategic fleet embodies cooperation between the navies in its most complete form and represents a potential lever of influence at sea.

7. Why cooperation between the navies matters for Sea Power

7.1 The spread of hybrid action at sea

a) A trend towards rearmament

After thirty years of strategic dormancy, we are seeing a trend towards rearmament. The collapse of the USSR led the West to believe in an illusory “end of history”, theorised by Francis Fukuyama in 1992 in his book The End of History and the Last Man. The Euro-Atlantic area then enjoyed naval supremacy. Confrontation at sea no longer seemed credible and armaments were scaled back. This was the beginning of a great strategic slumber (Mazzucchi, 2024, i) that lasted from the end of the Gulf War (1990-1991) to the annexation of Crimea (2014) and brought states the “peace dividend”³². Yet the sea has become a source of conflict. In recent years there has been a global naval rearmament and the opening of a new strategic era³³. Emerging actors such as Brazil, India and Turkey are building up their naval forces, claiming their place as regional powers. Most countries around the Mediterranean have already begun this rearmament. Strategic and doctrinal documents abound. Russia did the same, adopting a new maritime doctrine in summer 2022. This general rearmament is partly explained by the growing dangers at sea.

b) Hybrid conflict, requiring a review of French naval strategy As early as 2007, Vice Admiral Christian Girard said that our time no longer distinguishes peace from war and calls for a new defence strategy (Girard, 2007, c). Since the beginning of the 21st century, dangers have been increasing in certain shipping areas. However, since the development of nuclear weapons, most confrontations, particularly at sea, have remained below the threshold of war, a situation that General André Beaufre described with the notion of “Peace-War”. From this point of view, 21st-century confrontations are characterised by a degree of ambiguity. Indeed, we have lost the sense of a direct threat to national territory, but at the same time we are permanently in a crisis situation in several places around the world (Girard, 2007, d). The hybrid nature of threats at sea refers to the combination, in the same maritime space, of actions and means of different kinds. It is characterised by the intertwining of civilian and military, public and private, sometimes legal and illegal means, making attribution of the action and the adversary’s response more complex. Hybridisation mechanisms are very present in the maritime domain. According to Pierre Widehem, a member of the naval commandos, hybridity reflects the desire to conceal actions that achieve military effects. It circumvents direct military action. Faced with the hybridisation of threats at sea, Captain Alexis Muller advocates moving from a purely Mahanian navy [geared towards decisive naval battle] to a hybrid model inspired by the Jeune École, based on networked units, flexibility and cooperation (Muller, 2023, b). The Jeune École was a French school of naval strategy in the late 19th century which advocated striking the enemy economy by attacking its lines of communication and merchant ships rather than seeking to destroy its battle fleet. It conveyed the idea that a medium-sized naval power could make up for its inferiority in conventional warships through economic warfare at sea and the use of light offensive units. Alfred Mahan’s theory of the decisive naval battle must be related to the constraints of his time and cannot be applied rigidly today. The Jeune École is a springboard towards contemporary naval strategy, commonly known as “M2MC”, the “multi-domain, multi-field” strategy (Mazzucchi, 2024, j). This approach has the advantage of offering a clear, vertical view of the fields of action at sea, the model consisting of three layers:

• An upper layer representing intangible fields, from cyber to space;
• A middle layer corresponding to the three traditional domains of action: air, sea and land;
• A lower layer covering the underwater domain and the deep sea.

This M2MC model perfectly illustrates the strategic evolution of the 21st century. Contemporary naval warfare tends to involve different domains and fields, sometimes simultaneously. Hybrid action makes use of these different layers. Conversely, the verticalisation and multiplication of dimensions of intervention at sea favour hybridity. Houthi attacks on freedom of navigation in the Red Sea³⁴ and repeated strikes on Black Sea port infrastructure that hamper trade flows illustrate these new threats. As Édouard Louis Dreyfus, Chairman of Louis Dreyfus Armateurs (LDA) and of Armateurs de France, points out, there are still too many places in the world where freedom of navigation is not ensured³⁵. This is pushing shipowners to call on the support of the French Navy more and more often. These events prove the importance of cooperation between the navies. In this respect, the solution […] most often comes from a more or less formalised understanding between the military and civilians […] confrontation at sea is far from being a matter in which the boundaries between categories are always watertight (Mazzucchi, 2024, k). The need for public-private coordination is growing, all the more so as non-state or hybrid actors gain in power. They require navies to be able to act quickly, in all domains and in any area. This means strengthening France’s capacity to monitor maritime spaces and developing naval intelligence. In this context of heightened instability, a maritime power is not only one with imposing military resources, but one that knows how to get its navies to cooperate. Adopting a comprehensive naval strategy means turning the sea from a space of vulnerability into a space of power, guaranteeing both national security and economic prosperity.

7.2 Political awareness of the need for cooperation between the navies

The hybrid nature of the threat should lead us to promote the civil-military approach to State Action at Sea (Muller, 2023, c). The changing strategic context calls for French maritime strategy to adapt. In 2009, the French government began to grasp the importance and criticality of maritime spaces at the dawn of the 21st century. It organised the Grenelle de la Mer, bringing together all maritime stakeholders (merchant seafarers, naval personnel, fishers, NGOs, trade unions…) on several occasions over a year. It was a time of exchange that led to a Blue Book containing various cross-cutting commitments covering the environment, transport, research, planning and fishing³⁶. On this occasion, the public authorities gave the country a structuring and innovative vision of maritime political and economic development (Metzger, 2014, f), and the Ministry of the Sea was created. However, it is only recently that the proliferation of hybrid acts has made the public authorities aware of the degree of complementarity between the merchant and military navies. While the merchant navy depends on the effectiveness of the navy, it is also essential to the French state, as it asserts the presence of its flag at sea, can provide support in a crisis and contributes to the country’s sovereignty by guaranteeing its supplies. The state – embodied by its navy – and the merchant navy therefore share certain interests. Beyond these shared interests, the navies are united by an existential bond: one cannot exist – or has no reason to exist – without the other. The Navy is only useful when there is economic activity to protect. It protects the merchant navy, while the latter justifies and sustains the very existence of the former. This growing interdependence is now recognised at political level and forms the basis of new thinking on French Sea Power.

a) The French Navy’s contribution to the merchant navy and the economy

The French Navy’s main contribution to the economy lies in its role in State Action at Sea, which is the most significant part of its contribution to French economic power (Metzger, 2014, g). It is through this that the Navy protects economic interests and supply routes. It is therefore consistent to regard naval operations other than defence missions as state investments in preserving national wealth, with an impact on current and future economic developments (Metzger, 2014, h). In practice, the French Navy helps protect the sea routes used by the merchant navy, particularly in geopolitically sensitive areas such as the Gulf of Aden or the South China Sea. It secures flows there, guaranteeing the continuity of trade in the face of threats of piracy or terrorism. The French Navy thus defends the principle of freedom of navigation, without which the merchant navy could not fulfil its role. As Francis Vallat points out, it appears essential that our merchant ships can go anywhere in the world, and above all go there in a crisis to meet the country’s vital needs (Vallat, 2024, c). This principle of freedom of navigation is all the more important for France, which must ensure continuity of supply to its scattered overseas territories. Beyond securing flows, the French Navy also guarantees French sovereignty over certain disputed territories. It protects Clipperton Island, claimed by Mexico, Mayotte’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ), partly claimed by the Comoros, and the Scattered Islands, over which Madagascar claims authority. These missions show that the French Navy is not limited to defending mainland territory. It gives merchant ships the stability they need to operate even in turbulent contexts.

b) The merchant navy: strategic and logistical support for the state

In the shipping sector, the sovereign state has to deal with private companies which, strengthened by liberal policy, have acquired a central place (Giron, 2023, f). Almost all logistics transport has been outsourced. The French Navy no longer has transport ships, yet in wartime logistics are extremely important. There is thus a very particular public/private dialectic at sea, leading to alliances or competition depending on the situation. The possible needs that the merchant navy can meet (…) keep diversifying and multiplying (Vallat, 2014, d). In a crisis or conflict, the merchant navy can be mobilised for military needs as varied as transporting troops, equipment or supplies. This is what the expression “strategic fleet”³⁷ refers to. Bourbon’s Chief Executive³⁸ explains that in a major conflict, his company could make its ships available to the state for surveillance missions, underwater works, transporting equipment or rapid transport of personnel. This versatility shows how far the private sector can play a role in a state’s power projection at sea and its resilience in a crisis. The merchant navy is therefore not limited to an economic role: it is a fully fledged component of overall maritime power, just like the navy, the naval industry, port infrastructure and the governance of maritime spaces. The merchant navy enables strategic independence and international influence (Lambert, 2024, c).

c) The need to protect mainland France’s supplies

Nearly 78% of French imports and exports are carried by sea. As Admiral Bernard Rogel, former chief of the President of the Republic’s personal military staff, points out, our economies have become totally dependent on maritime spaces (Rogel, 2016, c). Each year, mainland France imports about 350 million tonnes of goods by sea, including all its hydrocarbon and coal needs and 30% of its gas consumption (FMES, 2023, a). This dependence covers strategic products: oil, methane, liquefied natural gas (LNG), uranium, copper and iron, but also inputs indispensable to agriculture such as livestock feed. Security of supply is therefore a vital issue for the economy and national stability. This structural vulnerability requires the French Navy to strengthen the protection of trade flows and merchant ships. Mainland France’s dependence on maritime trade therefore calls not only for greater vigilance, but also for organic cooperation between the merchant and military navies. While France can be considered a maritime power, it can only fully remain one by bringing its navies together to secure the continuity of strategic flows.

d) Supplying the overseas territories and enforcing sovereignty The even greater dependence of the overseas departments, regions and collectivities (DROM-COM) on seaborne imports obliges France to guarantee the supply of these territories. Indeed, a state can only claim sovereignty at sea over spaces where it demonstrates its capacity to ensure order, security and the protection of people and resources (Malgorn, 2019, g). As a source of power, the overseas territories are therefore also a heavy responsibility for the French state, which is responsible for protecting and supplying them. They are exposed to new threats, such as illegal immigration³⁹, and are extremely dependent on imports (Giron, 2019, b). The structural dependence of these territories is clear: Martinique derives 93% of its energy production from imported oil products; Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon depends on imports for 98% of its food; Réunion for 77% (FMES, 2023, b). These imports make the food and energy systems of the DROM-COM dependent and expose them to risks of shortages that France must be able to counter. They also depend on their connection to the global submarine cable network, far more than mainland France. Natural disasters heighten this vulnerability: extreme weather events are more violent. Like small island states, our overseas territories are exposed to this risk. In natural disasters, when land infrastructure has been destroyed, intervention by sea is often the only option (Rogel, 2016, d). The recent water crisis in Mayotte illustrates the strategic importance of a French-flagged merchant fleet. At the request of the Ministry of Defence, a CMA CGM container ship and the Marion Dufresne, operated by Louis Dreyfus Armateurs, delivered emergency drinking water to the population. From this perspective, building a strategic fleet should enable France to ensure continuity of supply to its territories spread across several oceans. Jacques Marchegay, secretary general of the general assembly of the central committee of shipowners, said as early as 1939 that for France to be a maritime power it must control all trade between French territories through its flag. The denser and more diversified the merchant navy under the national flag, the better France will be able to guarantee the food and energy security of its overseas territories in a crisis. In practice, this implies greater cooperation between the merchant and military navies. The French state will only be able to secure its overseas territories – and therefore fully assert its maritime sovereignty – by relying on this complementarity. Existing or past agreements may provide inspiration for reactivating this cooperation.

7.3 French and foreign sources of inspiration for cooperation

a) French examples of successful cooperation

Many examples of cooperation could be cited. One of the most striking is the chartering of the civilian tanker Port Vendres, recounted by Admiral Pierre-François Forissier, former Chief of Staff of the French Navy⁴⁰. While awaiting delivery of new command and replenishment ships (BCR), the French Navy had to resort in 1982 to this civilian tanker, owned by the Soflumar/Socatra company. Port Vendres provided at-sea replenishment for several years to combat ships, including the aircraft carrier Clémenceau. This collaboration gave rise to regular meetings bringing together the company’s seafarers, French Navy sailors and Maritime Affairs officials, allowing them to learn to work together day to day⁴¹. This temporary charter made it possible to maintain an autonomous logistics capability on the high seas until the gradual entry into service of the Durance-class BCRs between 1986 and 1990. This cooperation demonstrated the French Navy’s flexibility and adaptability during a period of capability transition. This episode illustrates the importance of the logistical support provided by the merchant navy and its complementarity with the navy. Conversely, the French Navy has repeatedly committed itself to protecting sea lanes. Its intervention in the Red Sea since 2024, alongside other allied navies, shows how topical these security operations are. Its aim is to protect merchant ships from attacks by Houthi rebels by setting up alert patrols and organising escort missions. This effort underlines the permanent threat to the major sea routes and the need for France to have a fleet capable of intervening quickly to defend its economic interests.

b) Examples of cooperation abroad

Some countries have managed to create complementarity between their military and civilian fleets, using the merchant navy as a strategic relay. The organisation of the British fleet is an emblematic example. The STUFT concept (Ships Taken Up From Trade) allows the state to requisition civilian ships and mobilise them for military operations. This system was used in 1982 during the Falklands War. More than seventy support ships, including twenty-five tankers, accompanied the military fleet. Liners such as the SS Canberra were converted to carry troops, with mixed civilian and military crews. The Royal Navy had a helicopter landing pad installed on the liner Queen Elizabeth 2 and repainted it grey. This system contributed to the British victory. China, for its part, illustrates a strong intertwining of the civilian maritime sector and the state (GICAN, 2023, a). With the world’s fourth-largest shipowner, COSCO Shipping, and a policy aimed at dominating world shipbuilding, the Chinese merchant fleet, with national flag and crew, is an instrument of power inseparable from the navy. This merchant fleet can be mobilised at any time in the national interest. Finally, the United States has institutionalised this logic with the United States Merchant Marine, a civilian fleet operated by private actors but subject to requisition in wartime. In peacetime, this fleet carries freight or passengers, but in wartime it becomes an auxiliary fleet of the United States Navy (GICAN, 2023, b). The Merchant Marine Act of 1936 officially recognised its role as a pillar of military power, and the Ready Reserve Force (RRF) maintains a fleet of merchant ships under federal control that can be activated when needed. However, the American model suffers from the heavy constraints of the Jones Act, a law adopted in 1920 requiring ships engaged in coastal trade in US waters to be US-built, owned by a US company, flagged in the US and crewed by Americans. This law has driven up the price of domestic transport, fuelled the rise of flags of convenience and driven shipowners away, durably weakening the American merchant navy⁴². These examples show that cooperation between navies can be a factor of power, but that its effectiveness depends on a subtle balance between state control and economic attractiveness. In France, similar tools existed but ran out of steam after the Cold War, at a time when confrontation at sea no longer seemed to be on the agenda.

8. French tools for cooperation between the navies

8.1 Relevant schemes that fell into disuse (1990-2000)

The 1990s-2000s were marked by military disengagement, linked to belief in an “end of history” predicted by Francis Fukuyama, which ultimately proved illusory (Mazzuchi, 2024, l). In an apparently stable context, states cut their defence budgets, and several tools that existed in the 1970s fell into disuse. This was the case of the Standing Commission for the Adaptation of Ships to Defence (COPAND), which sought to ensure, from the design stage of civilian ships, that they were compatible with military uses. Its role was, for example, to check that the deck of a ro-ro designed to carry cars could bear the weight of a military tank, should it be requisitioned by the Navy for logistical support. Likewise, the Occasional Auxiliary Force (FAO) and the Supplementary Maritime Force (FMC) already envisaged the temporary mobilisation of civilian ships to meet strategic needs. The Occasional Auxiliary Force (FAO) comprised civilian merchant ships that could be requisitioned in a crisis to carry troops, equipment or supplies. The Supplementary Maritime Force (FMC), for its part, consisted of a civilian auxiliary fleet under contract with the state, with crews that were sometimes mixed, civilian and military. These schemes already sought to draw on the capabilities of the civilian sector to strengthen the naval tool when needed. As these schemes relied on human skills, the EOR Marmar (reserve officers drawn from the merchant navy) constituted a natural pool and an operational reserve system for reinforcing naval forces. Nevertheless, these institutions and schemes gradually disappeared during the strategic “slumber” after the Cold War. COPAND was no longer considered necessary in a calmer context⁴³. Yet its disappearance is now criticised, as it damaged the maintenance of a common culture between civilian and military navies. But its reactivation is also debated, as it would entail significant costs that neither shipowners nor the state seem ready to bear (Lepeu, 2008). The disappearance of these schemes in the 1990s did not, however, end cooperation between the two navies. Today this cooperation is mainly expressed in the field of information through the MICA Center, a coordination and information-sharing platform designed to improve security at sea.

8.2 Strong information cooperation through the MICA Center

a) The role of the MICA Center

Command of the seas no longer depends solely on deployed naval power. It now requires the ability to collect and analyse maritime data rapidly. The General Secretariat for the Sea stresses the importance of sharing and exploiting digital data in support of maritime policies (SGMer, 2025). It was in this context that the French maritime security unit, the Maritime Information Cooperation & Awareness Center (MICA Center), was created in Brest in 2016. This centre of expertise with global reach stems from France’s adoption in 2015 of the national maritime security strategy. Its mission is to strengthen the safety of seafarers and protect maritime trade. A European pioneer, the MICA Center now works in partnership with several foreign navies, including the British, Spanish, Belgian and Portuguese navies. The MICA Center performs two main missions: permanent monitoring of global shipping and the dissemination of security information to shipowners and their ships. It covers the main contemporary maritime threats – piracy, terrorism, illegal immigration, illicit trafficking and cybercrime – and focuses on four areas: the Indian Ocean, the Gulf of Guinea, South-East Asia and the Mediterranean. The agreements concluded by the MICA strengthen its capacity for action, such as the Franco-British agreement in the Gulf of Guinea known as “Maritime Domain Awareness for Trade – Gulf of Guinea” (MDAT GoG), which makes it possible to track 1,100 merchant ships at all times. The centre also has partnerships with other maritime information fusion centres around the world (in Singapore, New Delhi, Lima, Rio and Antananarivo). Thanks to this global network, the MICA not only protects the French fleet but provides alerts and analyses to ships of all nationalities. In this way it strengthens France’s international influence and confirms that information is an essential lever of maritime power.

b) The voluntary naval cooperation scheme

Voluntary Naval Control (CNV), renamed “Voluntary Naval Cooperation” in the early 2000s, illustrates how the MICA Center connects the two navies, military and civilian. Placed under its authority, the CNV is a free, non-compulsory service that allows civilian ships to register and share their position in real time via the AIS system. In return, the MICA Center provides them with weekly security assessments that allow them to adapt their routes to the threats. This mechanism is a vital space for exchange between the French Navy and shipowners (Sénat, 2022). It is a tool for preventing risks at sea. Today, some 60 shipping companies, including 27 French ones, belong to the CNV scheme, representing more than 550 ships tracked daily. All the shipowners interviewed confirmed its usefulness, such as the Bourbon group, which uses the information provided by the MICA to adjust the routes of its ships operating in West Africa, Asia and the Middle East⁴⁴. The CNV is not limited to simple security assistance. It helps secure maritime spaces under French sovereignty and anticipate threats. It makes it possible to involve sea users freely in maritime security (Muller, 2023, d). The quality of the analyses produced increases with the number of members. All shipping companies, whatever their sector or flag, can help enrich the information network. The effectiveness of the scheme has been demonstrated on several occasions, such as during the attack on the ship Blue Marlin and the tug Charis in May 2019 in Equatorial Guinea’s EEZ. Thanks to civilian ships, regional maritime security centres and the MICA Center, a rapid military response put an end to the pirate attack. This example illustrates the MICA’s role as an interface and a tool for public-private cooperation serving all sea users for global maritime security. The MICA Center is the intermediary between the French Navy’s maritime zone commanders in these areas and the maritime industry (MICA Center website). The MICA Center fosters cooperation between navies, merchant navies and the maritime world to improve maritime security. It is a French initiative that works very well⁴⁵. While this information cooperation works well, it cannot replace operational cooperation that supplements naval forces or secures flows in a crisis.

8.3 A recent drive to relaunch operational cooperation

The idea of operational cooperation between the French Navy and the merchant navy is not new. As early as 1939, Jacques Marchegay, then secretary general of the central committee of shipowners, pointed out that the merchant navy is increasingly regarded as an essential factor in a nation’s military power; its importance is therefore no longer limited to the possibilities of normal commercial traffic, but must meet the country’s increased needs in wartime. Yet this desire for cooperation long remained at the conceptual stage⁴⁶. Recent crises affecting world shipping have put the question back on the agenda and highlighted the need to bring the merchant fleet back into strategic thinking. The worldwide dispersion of French ships is a major asset for ensuring the country’s sovereignty and maritime security (Chenevard, 2023, b). This drive to relaunch cooperation is accompanied by the creation and strengthening of forums for dialogue between the state and private actors. From 1978 onwards, the Interministerial Committee for the Sea (CIMer) became the coordinating body for French maritime policy, bringing together every year all the ministers concerned by maritime issues⁴⁷. Their work is prepared by the General Secretariat for the Sea (SGMer), created in 1995 and placed under the authority of the Prime Minister, which plays a pivotal role in drawing up public policies and seeking compromises between administrations. It had become essential for France to have an organisation linking the ministries concerned with the sea⁴⁸. The SGMer is divided into three divisions – prosperity, economy and security – and acts as an intermediary between all sea users. To draw up sound public policies, the SGMer engages with all actors in the maritime world: territories, NGOs, companies… (Metzger, 2014, i). Its interministerial character allows it to take a coherent, cross-cutting approach to maritime issues⁴⁹. However, the absence of a ministry dedicated solely to the sea still limits the political visibility of these issues internationally. Alongside this institutional system, bodies representing the maritime industry collectively have emerged. The French Maritime Cluster (CMF), founded in 2006 by Francis Vallat, now a member of the Académie de marine, has given the sector’s companies a voice before the public authorities and fostered closer ties with the French Navy. Francis Vallat wanted to make the CMF a professional association so that maritime companies would have a collective and coherent voice. With more than 330 members today, it is a platform for dialogue and lobbying. It has set up working groups on information sharing, maritime transport for the armed forces and the safety of sea users. The Cluster is once again promoting cooperation between the merchant and military navies, and notes the willingness of both navies to contribute. It seems to have fulfilled its mission of connecting and representing shipowners and the maritime industry excellently. Likewise, the annual Assises de l’économie de la mer bring together business leaders, representatives of the administration, the military and engineers to debate the major strategic issues of French maritime affairs. At the same time, there are bilateral relations between certain major shipowners and the state, such as CMA CGM, which maintains constant dialogue with the presidency, ministries and the French Navy⁵⁰. On the logistics side, cooperation was also institutionalised with the creation of the Multimodal Transport Centre (CMT) in 2007, then its merger in 2014 with the Joint Operational Logistics Coordination Centre (CICLO) to form the Operations and Routing Support Centre (CSOA). This joint body is responsible for conducting and coordinating logistical support, including the use of reservists from the merchant navy and the adaptation of civilian ships to military needs. In parallel, the “marine industries” Strategic Industry Committee (CSF) ensures dialogue between the state, manufacturers and trade unions on sectors as varied as shipbuilding, marine renewable energy, yachting and offshore oil and gas. Operational cooperation also rests on the maritime prefectures, which act as interfaces between civilians and the military. The maritime prefect is the state’s representative at sea. They are both commander of naval operations in their zone and responsible for civilian activities, making them a key player in coordination⁵¹. In November 2018, the new French maritime policy presented at the CIMer reaffirmed the importance of close association between public and private actors in the maritime world. This collaboration is now considered a strategic imperative, both for defending French interests and for guaranteeing the free movement of goods and people in a world dependent on maritime trade.

Finally, recent events bear witness to this desire to revitalise cooperation between the navies. On 26-27 June 2024, the first Maritime Security and Cooperation Forum (MSCF) was held in Brest, co-organised by the French Navy and Armateurs de France with the support of the MICA Center. Bringing together 160 representatives of the global maritime industry, it focused on three major issues: freedom of navigation in a deteriorated strategic context, maritime cooperation and information sharing, and the protection of seafarers. This meeting illustrates shipowners’ growing involvement in thinking on maritime security at international level. Tools for linking the navies have thus proliferated recently. France’s maritime power seems to depend on its capacity to build a strategic fleet able to ensure the continuity of the nation’s vital flows even in crisis situations.

9. The strategic fleet: the culmination of this cooperation

9.1 Definition of the strategic fleet

a) The gradual development of the notion

The notion of a “strategic fleet” in France is relatively recent and emerged gradually from the Leroy law no. 2016-816 on the blue economy, adopted on 20 June 2016. This law continues the National Strategy for the Sea and Coastline (2017) and introduced into the Defence Code for the first time the idea of a “fleet of a strategic nature”. According to Article L. 2213-9, this fleet would comprise French-flagged ships making it possible, in times of crisis, to ensure the security of supplies of all kinds, means of communication, and indispensable maritime services and works, as well as to supplement the resources of the armed forces. Following the adoption of the law, a working group bringing together the General Secretariat for the Sea (SGMer), Armateurs de France and the Higher Council of the Merchant Navy (CSMM) clarified this concept, leading to Decree no. 2017-850 of 9 May 2017. This decree broadened the definition of the strategic fleet to a wide range of missions (industrial, energy and food supplies, port services, access works, submarine communications, oceanographic research, offshore production and extraction, etc.) and made ships’ membership conditional on registration under the French flag, management by a company established in France and the ability to be crewed, if necessary, by French nationals. However, this decree, considered too all-encompassing, did not allow the scheme to become truly operational, illustrating the difficulty of combining an organisation intended to be controlled by the state with a sector of the liberal, globalised economy, despite the very loyal, even patriotic, behaviour of the main national shipowners (Blanc, 2024). In principle, the strategic fleet refers to the assignment of part of the national civilian fleet to defence and sovereignty needs. It aims to guarantee, in times of crisis, the continuity of vital supplies and economic flows, secure means of communication and strengthen French military capabilities. The strategic fleet’s purpose is to contribute to national independence and the economic defence of the country (SGMer, 2022, m), by restoring to France a supply capacity independent of geopolitical hazards. In this logic, it is not limited to ships but extends to all strategic infrastructure – ports, roads, railway networks – indispensable to the functioning of the nation. It thus has a dual objective: maritime safety (maritime safety, referring to the prevention of accidents and technical hazards) and maritime security (the fight against man-made threats). To be effective, the strategic fleet requires anticipation. Charter protocols must be established in advance, dialogue between the state and shipowners must be smooth and permanent, an inventory of available naval capabilities must be kept up to date, and regular coordination exercises must be carried out. Yet until recently, the state’s approach remained socio-economic, focusing in particular on doubling the number of ships registered in the RIF, without any real operational translation. This first stage is being followed by a clear desire to make the strategic fleet operational. The parliamentary report by Yannick Chenevard, commissioned by Prime Minister Élisabeth Borne in May 2023, reflects the executive’s awareness of the changing strategic context and of France’s need to preserve its maritime sovereignty. In his introduction, Yannick Chenevard recalls the historical roots of this issue. Since the 15th century, the powers that dominated the world were those that had a maritime policy. A commercial maritime policy, a military one, often both, and more precisely in total harmony. Our century is no exception to this rule (Chenevard, 2023, c). The report moves beyond the conceptual to the concrete implementation of the strategic fleet. According to the interview with Yannick Chenevard, 64% of the recommendations of his government mission have already been implemented or are about to be. This figure illustrates a new dynamic: France is no longer content to define the concept of a strategic fleet; it is working to make it functional.

b) Fleet strategy and strategic fleet The distinction between fleet strategy and strategic fleet is essential for understanding the French approach. “Fleet strategy” corresponds to an overall policy, a doctrine for organising and using a fleet, whether military or commercial. It sets a long-term course, aiming to enlarge the French-flagged fleet, diversify its components and better articulate the complementarities between the navies. Conversely, the “strategic fleet” refers to a concrete capability, often made up of ships identified as critical to national interests and that can be mobilised in a crisis. There will only be a strategic fleet if there are ships and if know-how is maintained and developed, for shipowners and seafarers as well as for the whole maritime ecosystem (shipyards, banks, insurers, specialised lawyers) (SGMer, 2022, n). In other words, the strategic fleet can only exist as the outcome of a fleet strategy that is clear and embraced by the public authorities. It is for the state to define what is strategic, but planning it requires close consultation with private actors (shipowners, shipbuilders, actors in maritime finance and insurance). The state must have, at all times, a precise view of ship and personnel capacity, industrial construction resources and design projects, in order to anticipate needs and adapt arrangements. The functioning of the strategic fleet is therefore conditional on cooperation – or at least coordination – between the armed forces and shipowners. The Higher Council of the Merchant Navy (CSMM) recommends institutionalising relations between the authorities and maritime companies. The national maritime conferences fulfil this mission.

c) The national maritime conferences (CNM)

The relaunch of the strategic fleet does not rest solely on political impetus. It is also driven by the private sector, particularly shipowners, who see some benefit in it. Several interviews confirm that shipowners support the project and even describe themselves as driving its development. However, perspectives differ between actors: the state seeks to build a fleet that costs it as little as possible while guaranteeing its use in a crisis, while shipowners want the chartering of their ships to remain economically viable and income-generating. This structural tension does not prevent a compromise from being built, as both parties recognise that a strategic fleet is indispensable to strengthening French maritime sovereignty. It was in this spirit that, following Yannick Chenevard’s report, a National Maritime Conference was established, bringing together the sovereign ministries and the sector’s main actors⁵²: the Defence Staff, the SGDSN⁵³, the Commissioner General for Strategy and Foresight, the delegate for spatial planning and regional action, as well as representatives of the Ministry for the Overseas Territories, directors of central administrations and heads of public bodies. The measures adopted include introducing flag reservation for certain maritime services, three-year planning of the strategic fleet, and redefining the arrangements for requisitioning ships and crews in times of crisis.

d) From contract to requisition: using the strategic fleet

Use of the strategic fleet rests on a combination of contracts and requisition. The Armed Forces Staff, through the Operations and Routing Support Centre (CSOA), plays a central role in this organisation by mobilising the ships needed for operations. The scheme is legally overseen by the COMITTPB⁵⁴, assisted by DGAMPA’s “merchant fleet” mission, in accordance with the 2017 decree. The Transport Commission is responsible for the operational implementation of this fleet. It assesses annual needs and monitors the scheme’s progress. MP Yannick Chenevard’s report stresses the complementarity between contracts, satisfactory for meeting the state’s regular needs (Chenevard, 2023, d), and requisition, conceived as an exceptional measure. For several years, a trend towards outsourcing has led the state to call regularly on private shipowners for support missions. The French Navy thus charters civilian ships for State Action at Sea (AEM) and logistical support. It first uses eight permanent ships, including four emergency towing, assistance and rescue tugs (RIAS) operated by Les Abeilles, and four chartered support and assistance vessels (BSAA) from the shipowners Bourbon, SeaOwl and Les Abeilles. These ships carry out towing, rescue and anti-pollution missions. Other specialised shipping companies also take part. Jifmar provides four ships for “DGA – Missile trials”. Maritime Nantaise operates ro-ro ships to carry military equipment, and Bourbon provides Argonaute, chartered for coastal protection⁵⁵. These contractual arrangements have a twofold benefit: they relieve the French Navy while maintaining the know-how of civilian crews and guaranteeing shipowners stable charters⁵⁶. The contract thus represents a form of interpenetration of civilian logistics and national defence (Vallat, 2014, e), through the permanent chartering of maritime service ships by the DGA. However, while contracts are sufficient for routine needs, they show their limits in a major crisis. First, when a ship is chartered, the crew has a right of withdrawal, whereas requisition obliges the crew to serve the interests of the state. Second, the cumbersome public procurement procedures limit the system’s responsiveness. This is why requisition remains an instrument of last resort, indispensable in wartime or when the Nation faces a serious threat. The legal framework for requisition is laid down in Articles L. 2213-5 to L. 2213-8 of the Defence Code, stemming from the 1969 law creating the TRAMIN scheme (maritime transport of national interest). This scheme allows the state to compel any French-flagged ship, civilian or military, to meet national needs. The recent 2024-2030 Military Programming Law has, however, clarified and restricted its use, now reserved for two situations: responding to a threat to national security or to France’s international commitments, and dealing with an emergency endangering national defence (Dupont, 2024). However, requisition remains a cumbersome and costly procedure, hence the need to develop prior mechanisms and compensation. As Édouard Louis-Dreyfus pointed out, planning the strategic fleet must include agreements and financial guarantees allowing shipowners to anticipate the constraints imposed by the state⁵⁷. The aim is to avoid improvisation at the time of the crisis and to guarantee the actual availability of ships and crews. The strategic fleet does not necessarily rely on requisition; the point is to find a viable mechanism, a pre-agreed framework. A logic of consultation and partnership must therefore prevail to ensure the relevance and robustness of the strategic fleet’s functioning, like the relations the armed forces currently have with commercial shipping companies (CSMM, 2017, b).

The recent joint exercise ORION 2023 highlighted the importance of this preparation. It made it possible to test the requisition of civilian ships for replenishment and logistics, but also revealed the limits of the current system, considered too slow and too restrictive. For the strategic fleet to be operational in a crisis, the CSOA must be able to requisition quickly and in large numbers. Yet the current requisition arrangements do not seem suited to such use. The procedure remains long and costly. In addition, the TRAMIN scheme currently covers only transport ships, not the services fleet. This is why MP Yannick Chenevard recommends turning this framework into CAPAMIN (maritime capabilities of national interest), in order to include other categories of strategic ships such as cable ships or tugs. In the last resort, the flag remains the only real political insurance, the only indisputable vector of sovereignty (Vallat, 2014, f), guaranteeing the state the ability to mobilise, by contract or requisition, the ships on which its freedom of action depends.

e) A capability-based approach in need of updating

The strategic fleet is not fixed; its composition must be reassessed regularly according to the Nation’s changing needs. The 2017 decree provided for a fixed list of ships designated as strategic, but this static approach now appears insufficient. In his report, MP Yannick Chenevard argues for an evolving list of capabilities. As the country depends on imports, it is imperative to identify not only ships, but also segments, missions and trades essential to the survival of the state. The Higher Council of the Merchant Navy (CSMM, 2017, c) proposed a capability framework structured around several sectors considered strategic: energy and food supply, transport of equipment and people, service vessels⁵⁸ and research and exploration vessels. Beyond ships, the aim is also to designate apparently strategic trades and skills on which the sustainability of the scheme depends (qualified seafarers, cable engineers, offshore technicians, lawyers specialised in maritime law, etc.). France already has a significant capability base under its flag: 39 specialised ships, 53 offshore service vessels, 136 port and coastal service vessels and some fifty tugs, plus 31 container ships among the largest in the world and several cable ships indispensable to maintaining global digital connectivity (DGAMPA, 2025, d). As this list refers to the French-flagged fleet, it is a reminder that the attractiveness of the national register is a prerequisite for implementing the strategic fleet. Institutionally, it is for the minister responsible for the sea – on a proposal from the General Secretariat for the Sea (SGMer) and after consulting the CSMM – to set the official composition of the strategic fleet. While the SGMer appears to have already drawn up this capability list⁵⁹, its content remains classified, which confirms the importance of the scheme.

9.2 A demanding operationalisation of the concept

Implementing the strategic fleet requires re-establishing an organic link between the merchant navy and the French Navy. As MP Yannick Chenevard’s report points out, merchant seafarers must be able to serve both on civilian fleet ships and, in a crisis, the needs of the state (Chenevard, 2023, e). This means adapting seafarers’ training to create “strategic seafarers” able to respond in a crisis.

a) Creating the strategic seafarer

The École nationale supérieure maritime (ENSM), already recognised for providing one of the most comprehensive training programmes in the world, is a major asset. However, to make the strategic fleet operational, it would be useful to include more modules on security and national defence in this training. The aim is to make future officers aware, while still at school, of the possibility of serving the state in a crisis. From this point of view, the French Navy’s operational reserve appears to be a relevant tool. The 2024-2030 Military Programming Law sets a target of doubling its numbers, from 4,300 in 2022 to 12,000 in 2030, drawing in particular on the natural pool of merchant navy officers. Several shipowners point out that many of them say they are ready to sign up. This would make it possible to merge the skills and experience of the two navies. Greater use of naval military preparation courses (PMM) and higher military preparation courses dedicated to the merchant navy (PMS MARMAR) follows this logic⁶⁰. These schemes introduce ENSM students to defence practices and strengthen cohesion between civilian and military seafarers. In 2024, the National Assembly counted 19 PMS trainees under contract to serve in the operational reserve (Assemblée nationale, 2025, e). This figure should grow thanks to a policy of expanding the reserves. Historically, compulsory military service allowed merchant navy students to serve on French Navy ships, fostering a common culture and shared reflexes. Since its suspension in 1996, this link has loosened, which is why bridges between the two navies need to be rebuilt. In this perspective, institutional cooperation between the École navale and the ENSM is essential: the two schools are developing cross-pathways, including one-year volunteer periods as officer of the watch candidates in the French Navy (Assemblée nationale, 2025, f). Such initiatives aim to bring professional cultures closer together, as in Portugal (dual training) or the United States (a common year of study). Nevertheless, exchanges between the schools have both financial and organisational costs. Finally, the 2025 CIMer⁶¹ opened the way to greater permeability between maritime careers, considering new equivalences between the certificates and qualifications issued by the French Navy and the ENSM. This would make seafarers’ professional mobility smoother and create a responsive pool in the event of requisition. The operationalisation of the strategic fleet thus rests on the gradual development of a common skills base, which guarantees the Nation’s responsiveness in a crisis. However, this ambition to create a “strategic seafarer” comes up against the small number of French seafarers under the national flag.

b) Addressing the shortage of French seafarers on national-flag ships The operationalisation of the strategic fleet requires France to have a sufficient pool of national seafarers. Some missions, because of their sensitivity, require only French nationals on board. Yet the question of the availability of French seafarers is clearly raised, as much as that of ships (CSMM, 2017, d). The problem lies in the RIF flag, which allows 75% foreign seafarers to be employed. While this strengthens shipowners’ competitiveness, this openness has helped break the once inviolable link between the flag, the state and crews. A ship can now fly the French flag without carrying a single French seafarer. And yet the origin of the crew may prove a difficulty in the loyal performance of a mission (Chenevard, 2023, f). However, some operations – such as the simple transport of equipment – do not always require an entirely national crew, which calls for case-by-case treatment⁶². Training is one way of making up this shortfall. The ENSM has undertaken to double its intake. However, while France trains a substantial number of officers, it lacks ratings. François Lambert, Director General of the ENSM, also notes that a significant share of ENSM graduates give up going to sea, which weakens the supply of seafarers. He therefore proposes a maritime public service commitment contract, modelled on the National Education commitment contract: allowances would be paid during studies in exchange for a commitment to serve on strategic ships (cable ships, assistance vessels, oceanographic vessels, etc.)⁶³. These young people must still find opportunities to go to sea. The employment of French seafarers also depends on the state’s economic and tax policy. The 2016 Leroy law introduced an exemption from social charges for French seafarers, following the example of other European countries and thus reducing the distortion of competition⁶⁴. Combined with the tonnage tax, this measure helped keep ships under the French flag and preserve national employment. But the 2025 social security financing bill (PLFSS) provides for the removal of these exemptions for most ships. The budgetary gain seems limited⁶⁵, even though this decision threatens the presence of French seafarers in the merchant fleet. Finally, renewing the workforce must also draw on the overseas territories. The CIMer decided to strengthen, or even create, maritime training in the overseas territories in order to meet strong local demand and ensure intergenerational transmission of skills. This additional pool is a decisive asset in guaranteeing a national base of seafarers, an indispensable condition for the credibility of the strategic fleet.

c) Promoting Made in France

Besides the question of seafarers, operationalising a strategic fleet involves promoting Made in France and maintaining solidarity between maritime companies. The strategic fleet is based on maintaining French skills and know-how. The project arose precisely from an awareness of vulnerability: France’s dependence on its maritime supplies and on international companies flying third-country flags and thus beyond any state control. The disappearance of the French seismic research fleet in 2015 illustrates this danger. We must make sure that what happened with the French seismic research fleet does not happen again. When CGG abandoned this activity for financial reasons, France lost the skills and know-how needed to build and operate these seismic vessels⁶⁶ The fleet strategy must therefore serve to prevent reflagging and encourage ships to register in France, in order to keep the indispensable industrial and human tools in the country. Certain organisations, such as GICAN and Armateurs de France, are thus essential to the scheme and to the implementation of French maritime strategy. All the companies of the French naval industry are grouped within GICAN, the French maritime industries association, which acts as a professional association. It brings together more than 250 manufacturers and organisations in the French maritime sector. It aims to defend French interests, promote maritime technological and industrial expertise and support the development and competitiveness of the naval industry (SGMer, 2022, o). Armateurs de France calls for greater solidarity between French companies and for large national groups to be encouraged to prefer French-built ships. In the long term, such a policy should irrigate the blue economy, creating jobs and contributing to the country’s reindustrialisation. In this perspective, MP Yannick Chenevard’s report paved the way for reopening industrial basins on French soil. The state could also play a leading role by steering shipping companies’ acquisition choices, for example through tax incentives conditional on buying French or European-built ships (GICAN, 2023, c).

9.3 A recent tool to be consolidated, as it is decisive for France’s influence at sea

The strategic fleet has evolved considerably over the last two years. It embodies cooperation between military and civilian navies in its most complete form. Nevertheless, the scheme would benefit from consolidation, both through joint exercises and through the Europeanisation of some of its components. The strategic fleet is tending to become a central element of French maritime power.

a) More exercises between the navies

The purpose of military exercises is to check the practical feasibility of planned mechanisms and to strengthen common reflexes. These exercises help demonstrate French technical capabilities and are part of a logic of influence. In this way, the armed forces maintain uncertainty and express a form of strategic intimidation (Muller, 2023, e). It seems appropriate to develop these joint exercises at sea and involve the merchant navy. Past exercises have done so and remain emblematic. The TRAMINEX exercise, organised by DGAMPA in partnership with Armateurs de France and the SGMer, recently made it possible to test and update the TRAMIN scheme⁶⁷. This scheme lies halfway between contracting and requisition: it is imposed contracting, outside public procurement rules. This exercise will need to be repeated to ensure that the scheme works properly and that services are responsive. Likewise, including the merchant navy in the next ORION⁶⁸ exercise, a major joint and international exercise, would strengthen this synergy and give concrete form to the strategic fleet. Its participation was considered in 2023 but was ruled out for lack of preparation⁶⁹. Other recent exercises confirm the strategic value of such cooperation. The Conavex 22 exercise, organised in Brest by the MICA Center, brought together eleven companies, fifteen merchant ships and cyber experts from the Maritime Gendarmerie around scenarios combining piracy, cyberattacks, drones and mines. This operational interaction was extended by a forum bringing together the French Navy, SHOM⁷⁰, DGAMPA and Armateurs de France. Internationally, France also took part in exercise BELL BUOY 24, which in June 2024 brought together fourteen states, sixteen shipping companies and more than twenty merchant ships around a crisis scenario in the Indian Ocean. The next edition, planned in South Korea in 2025, will continue this momentum of cooperation between the private sector and the armed forces. Beyond these planned exercises, certain trials also help strengthen the strategic fleet. In November 2024, a replenishment test was carried out between the civilian tanker Stena Polaris, chartered by the US Navy, and the fleet replenishment ship (BRF) Jacques Chevallier in Toulon. This operation, which is to be repeated at sea, aims to compensate for the small number of French BRFs by making it possible to rely on chartered civilian tankers. It remains to be seen whether a French solution can be favoured, as France currently has only three operational BRFs⁷¹. Although two new BRFs have been ordered from Chantiers de l’Atlantique and Naval Group, they will not be delivered before 2027. These joint exercises make it possible to validate the acquisition of skills and ensure that procedures are effective. They also strengthen France’s image as a maritime power capable of mobilising all its resources, civilian and military, in the service of its sovereignty and influence.

b) Extending certain efforts to the European level

While the strategic fleet remains a national scheme, it would benefit from being consolidated by the Europeanisation of some of its components⁷². There can be no question of creating a European strategic fleet, since the fleet, intrinsically linked to sovereignty and flag policy, can only be conceived at national level⁷³. On the other hand, the results of the French strategy could be amplified if member states pooled certain efforts. Admiral Pierre Rialland suggests thinking in terms of concentric circles. While the core of the strategic fleet must remain French, the European dimension may be relevant for certain fleet segments that are lacking. France will not be able to remain present in every field of maritime activity⁷⁴. It will have to make choices according to its comparative advantages, in consultation with its European partners, in order to ensure a degree of complementarity.

Such an approach is justified industrially. China now holds a near-monopoly in shipbuilding and poses a considerable risk to the continuity of ship deliveries. According to Admiral Rialland, the European level would make it possible to return to building intermediate-sized ships (100 to 200 metres), a segment in which France is lacking. Following MP Yannick Chenevard’s report, GICAN carried out an inventory of the dry docks and industrial basins available in France. European strategic autonomy in shipbuilding appears not only possible but indispensable. Harmonising flagging conditions is another possible field of action. The Maritime Labour Convention (MLC, 2006), adopted by 96% of the member states of the International Labour Organization (ILO), marked a first step towards international standardisation, recognising fundamental rights for seafarers, including in countries without social legislation⁷⁵. However, this convention sets neither wages nor social protection. EU member states could therefore go further by harmonising certain measures to limit the distortions of competition from which European seafarers suffer. The European level is also relevant for maritime safety and security. The European Maritime Safety Agency (EMSA), based in Lisbon, already has a fleet of ships that can be mobilised in the event of natural disasters. The European Union has recently extended its missions to protecting supplies, maritime infrastructure and logistics hubs (Chenevard, 2023, g). To go further, coordinated supply missions in a crisis, or better coordination of national merchant fleets, could strengthen European maritime resilience. The European level can thus offer industrial, regulatory and security relays to the strategic fleet. Nevertheless, the latter remains intrinsically national. It serves the nation’s interests and is an instrument of projection and influence at sea.

c) The strategic fleet: an expression of influence at sea

The French strategic fleet is a hybrid construction, both necessary and elusive. François Lambert calls it the “Arlésienne of the maritime world”, because everyone is convinced it exists but no one knows how to define it (Lambert, 2024). It maintains uncertainty about its definition, composition and modes of action – an uncertainty that is paradoxically one of its main assets. By maintaining this ambiguity, France retains the possibility of a rapid and unpredictable response in a crisis. From this point of view, the strategic fleet strengthens France’s power of influence at sea. More than a simple logistical scheme, it embodies sovereignty and power, through its capacity to combine public interests and private resources. It also requires the presence of the French flag on every sea. While the rational measurement of influence remains wishful thinking (Metzger, 2014, j), the extent of maritime territory, the presence of the flag at sea and the design of requisition mechanisms are indicators of it. France can prove influential, all the more so if its merchant fleet can be requisitioned and is ready to serve French interests. At a time when the sea concentrates most international flows, tensions and rivalries, the strategic fleet proves to be not only a defence tool but also an instrument of influence, essential to French maritime power.

General conclusion

This study set out to analyse cooperation between the French merchant navy and the French Navy, in a context of the maritimisation of economies and the return of conflict at sea. Its aim was to show how this cooperation can be a lever for French maritime power and thus strengthen its sovereignty, economic resilience and the security of its overseas territories.

The results largely confirm the initial hypotheses. First, cooperation between the navies does appear to be a condition for building coherent maritime power. A navy without an economic and logistical base remains limited, while a merchant fleet without protection or coordination remains vulnerable. Second, it is true that the existence of one of the two navies cannot be justified without the other, as they are deeply interdependent: economic interest underpins the need for a navy, and conversely, military power protects the vital flows carried by the merchant navy. Finally, France does have assets, but their conversion into comprehensive maritime power is still held back by too great an institutional and operational distance between the two navies. This is why it is beginning to redefine its maritime strategy around the notion of the strategic fleet.

This study belongs to the field of maritime geopolitics. It has sought to help update the Mahanian notion of Sea Power by setting it against certain contemporary theories of naval strategy. Through the French case, this work highlights the importance of thinking of maritime power as a balance between civilian and military components, in line with Alfred Mahan’s thinking but adapted to the contemporary issues of maritimisation and the territorialisation of the seas.

Finally, this work opens up other perspectives. It could be useful to extend the analysis to the European level by studying the possibilities of a Community strategic fleet. As this point is debated, there would be scope for developing it. It appears that, in the long run, only a comprehensive and concerted vision of maritime power will enable France to turn its scattered assets into a genuine strategic lever, guaranteeing its sovereignty and its role as a balancing power on the seas of the 21st century.

List of people interviewed

• French Navy
• Pierre-François FORISSIER, Admiral, Chief of Staff of the French Navy from 2008 to 2011. Interview conducted on 03/06/2025.
• Matthieu LAISNÉ, chief petty officer. Interview conducted on 12/04/2025.
• Pierre RIALLAND, Rear Admiral, current Deputy Secretary General of the General Secretariat for the Sea. Interview conducted on 01/07/2025.
• Merchant navy
• Jean-Michel BERUD, Chief Executive of Jifmar Group, a company specialising in maritime and underwater services. Interview conducted on 25/06/2025.
• Gaël BODÉNÈS, Chief Executive of the Bourbon group, a company specialising in offshore maritime services. Interview conducted on 30/06/2025.
• François LAMBERT, Director General of the École nationale supérieure maritime (ENSM) and chief administrator of maritime affairs. Interview conducted on 26/06/2025.
• Édouard LOUIS-DREYFUS, Chairman of Louis Dreyfus Armateurs and of Armateurs de France since 2023. Interview conducted on 12/06/2025.
• Jean-Emmanuel SAUVÉE, co-founder of the Ponant company, President of Armateurs de France from 2020 to 2023, special adviser to Rodolphe Saadé (Chief Executive of CMA CGM), President of the Académie de marine.
• Administration
• Jean-Louis BISSUEL, first-class chief administrator of maritime affairs. Interview conducted on 15/05/2025.
• Yannick CHENEVARD, MP for the Var and rapporteur for the French Navy budget. Interview conducted on 07/07/2025.
• Xavier GUÉRIN, deputy head of the merchant fleet mission at DGAMPA⁷⁶. Interview conducted on 04/07/2025.
• Jean-Marc SCHINDLER, general administrator of maritime affairs. Interview conducted on 11/06/2025.
• Researcher
• Cyrille POIRIER-COUTANSAIS, head of the Research department of the Naval Strategic Studies Centre (CESM), editor-in-chief of the journal Études Marines. Interview conducted on 26/06/2025.

Summary

At a time when 90% of world trade passes through the sea, the maritimisation of economies and the territorialisation of maritime spaces are redefining power relations and rekindling conflict. This dissertation analyses the role that cooperation between the merchant and military navies can play in French maritime power, and how this cooperation evolved from 1990 to 2025. France, with the world’s second-largest maritime territory, a high-performing navy and a merchant navy of strategic importance, would benefit from adopting a comprehensive fleet strategy that fosters coordination between these navies. Drawing on an interdisciplinary corpus and the results of thirteen interviews with civilian, military and administrative actors, the study seeks to show that the synergy of the two navies is a strategic lever for guaranteeing the supply of territories, preserving sovereignty and responding rapidly to crises at sea. It highlights the current limits of this cooperation in France and outlines prospects for its development, particularly around the emerging notion of the “strategic fleet”.

Keywords: maritimisation, territorialisation, cooperation between navies, merchant navy, navy, maritime strategy, maritime power, Sea Power, strategic fleet.

Abstract

At a time when 90% of global trade flows through the sea, the maritimization of economies and the territorialization of maritime spaces are redefining power relations and rekindling conflicts. This thesis analyses the role that cooperation between the merchant and military navies can play in French maritime power, as well as the evolution of this cooperation from 1990 to 2025. France, endowed with the world’s second-largest maritime territory, a high-performing military navy, and a merchant navy of strategic importance, would benefit from adopting a comprehensive fleet strategy that promotes coordination between these forces. Drawing on an interdisciplinary corpus and the results of thirteen interviews conducted with civilian, military, and administrative actors, the study seeks to demonstrate that the synergy of the two navies constitutes a strategic lever for ensuring territorial supply, safeguarding sovereignty, and responding rapidly to crises at sea. It also highlights the current limitations of this cooperation in France and outlines prospects for its evolution, particularly around the emerging notion of a “strategic fleet”.

Keywords : maritimization, territorialization, naval cooperation, merchant navy, military navy, maritime strategy, maritime power, Sea Power, strategic fleet.

Bibliographic information

Type

Report

Date

2026

Author

Maylis Réal

Editor

Deep Blue Foundation

Study Centre

SMGM

Original language

French

Original document

PDF, 115 pages

Full text

Transcription of the original document

← All publications