On the sun-bleached coast of Sirte, Libya, Mokhtar al-Rammash stands by his battered plastic boat, preparing for another day at sea. But these days, fishing feels less like a profession and more like a clean-up operation. As he untangles his fraying nets, he gestures toward the littered water. "These nets now catch only plastic," he laments, his voice edged with frustration. "It feels like we're cleaning the sea instead of earning a living from it."
Al-Rammash’s predicament is not unique. According to the United Nations, a staggering 730 tons of plastic trash flood into the Mediterranean Sea every single day. For fishermen like him, the mounting waste is just the tip of the iceberg. Industrial trawlers, he explains, "take everything, even the small, juvenile fish," leaving the sea "clean every day"—but not in a good way. The relentless sweep of these vessels is decimating fish stocks, making survival ever more precarious for small-scale fishers.
But plastic and overfishing aren’t the only threats. Al-Rammash points to the impact of untreated sewage from towns near Tripoli, which is killing off fish and sponge populations. Coastal reclamation projects, meanwhile, are disrupting vital breeding grounds for numerous species. "What's happening here isn't normal," he says, shaking his head. Despite Libya’s enviably long coastline, he notes with bitter irony, "we have one of the longest coastlines in the region, yet we import fish from abroad." For many, the sea that once sustained generations now feels like a lost promise.
Al-Rammash and his fellow fishermen haven’t been silent about their plight. "We've sent letters and demands [to the Libyan Environment Ministry], but no one replies," he says. Their appeals for action—and for the protection of what they see as their only source of income—have so far gone unanswered.
Travel east along the Mediterranean to the Egyptian city of Alexandria, and the story is much the same. Haj Abdel Nabi, a fisherman in his 60s, sits on the dock, inspecting his own battered nets. He remembers a time when the sea was generous. "In the past, we used to come back with 100 kilograms of fish, but today we get only 10 and sometimes, we return with nothing at all," he recalls. He, too, blames the trawlers, noting that a single vessel now hauls "more than all the local fishermen combined." Like his Libyan counterparts, he’s voiced his concerns to local authorities and the Environment Ministry, but, as he puts it, "so far he has not received a reply."
Across the border in Algeria, environmental reports confirm the trend. The country’s coastline, shared with Libya and Egypt, is seeing the ongoing depletion of key species such as pilchard. Algerian authorities told DW that 1,300 tons of "sardine seeds"—juvenile fish under 11 centimeters—are caught every year, often illegally. Researchers warn that this practice not only undermines future fish populations but also threatens the delicate balance of the marine food chain.
With local fishers feeling the combined weight of pollution, overfishing, and environmental neglect, some governments are starting to act. Egypt, for example, presented a national plan in July 2025 aimed at improving its coastal environment. The plan includes restoring two coastal lakes and building around 70 kilometers (about 43 miles) of shoreline protection in the form of sand dune dikes. Cairo is also targeting plastic pollution by imposing fees on manufacturers and importers of plastic bags, a move designed to encourage reduced plastic use through what’s known as extended producer responsibility.
Egypt’s Environment Minister, Yasmine Fouad, has announced initiatives to provide new income streams for fishermen, involving them in marine waste collection, recycling efforts, and water quality monitoring. "Protecting the Mediterranean is no longer an environmental choice. It's a social and economic necessity," she declared. Scientists agree it’s a climate necessity too. Studies show that since the Industrial Revolution, oceans have absorbed about 90% of the excess heat generated by human activity, adding immense stress to already fragile marine ecosystems. Rising temperatures, declining rainfall, and sea-level rise are all putting further strain on the Mediterranean.
Algeria, meanwhile, has launched a project to digitize fishing activity monitoring and connect its ports to electronic tracking systems, working in partnership with the Union for the Mediterranean—a 43-state intergovernmental organization. These steps are part of a broader push for sustainable management of marine resources, but the scale of the challenge is daunting.
On the global stage, momentum is building. In June 2025, 55 countries signed the High Seas Treaty, a landmark agreement aiming to protect 30% of the world’s oceans by 2030. The treaty will come into effect once ratified by 60 countries, possibly by the end of this year. Among other measures, it will create protected areas and regulate activities such as fishing, shipping, and deep-sea mining. That same month, 170 countries gathered in France to announce the Nice Ocean Action Plan. The plan calls for involving fishers in environmental data collection, banning deep-sea fishing in fragile ecosystems, and supporting "blue economy" projects as a path to sustainable development.
European countries have pledged €1 billion (about $1.2 billion) over the coming years for ocean protection initiatives. This funding will support countries in the Global South, strengthen marine conservation, and allow for advanced monitoring of pollution in the Mediterranean. However, not everyone is convinced that these promises will translate into meaningful change.
"It's hard to believe when some of the biggest funders are also the world's worst polluters," says Samir Sheikh al-Zaghnani, a former Tunisian captain and now an independent environmental activist, speaking to DW. His skepticism is echoed by many who make their living from the sea. Fishermen like al-Rammash say they want to be more directly involved in protecting their waters. "We know the sea, and we can protect it, but we don't have the tools," he says. "If they keep giving us promises while giving others the nets, there'll be nothing left for us."
As the Mediterranean’s future hangs in the balance, the voices of those who depend on it most are clear: real solutions will require more than pledges and paperwork. They demand action, partnership, and a seat at the table. Without it, the region risks losing not just its fish, but a way of life woven into the fabric of its coastal communities for generations.
