Sea Level Rise and Climate Statelessness Pragmatically, Walter Kälin might be right in assuming that no other state would want to be the first to un-recognise an LLIS. However, within a worst-case scenario, the possibility remains that other states may not be stopped by ethical or moral reasons and may contest the statehood of a deterritorialised LLIS. While this is clearly not a desirable future, it remains a possible one. This could take different forms. McAdam sets the threshold relatively high for the loss of statehood to be completed by requiring widespread, general acceptance of the loss of statehood, but this would be preceded by a period of divided recognition, during which some states might maintain their recognition, while others remove it. Since, in the absence of physical indicia, a deterritorialised LLIS’s statehood would almost exclusively rely on recognition by other states, this would put the concerned LLIS in a particularly precarious position. For the purpose of assessing statelessness, this could mean that: [w]here only certain States would cease recognition, given that nationality would be dependent on the recognition by a particular State, individuals would be left in a situation whereby they could be considered stateless in relation to some States but not others.71 Indeed, this risk is compounded by the possibility that state officials tasked with evaluating an applicant’s qualification for stateless status could follow their respective ‘State’s official stance on an entity’s legal personality and make decisions influenced by politics’.72 The key takeaway from the present section is that any claim to provide a clear legal timeline for the future of LLISs rests upon an assessment of political realities that remain out of reach for purely legal forecasts. 73 For the purpose of determining the relevance of the law on statelessness for EDPs from LLISs, this means that in a worst-case scenario, an LLIS could lose its statehood earlier than otherwise forecast, and consequently mean that its displaced nationals would qualify for stateless status. Hence, it may be premature to dismiss the 1954 Convention purely on the basis that it would apply long after EDPs had left their country. While it is likely that there would be a gap between the cross-border migration of EDPs and the loss of a LLIS’s statehood, the length of this gap could be shorter than previously thought. However, while this means that in the context of a worst-case scenario the law on statelessness could apply to EDPs, it does not remedy the 1954 Convention’s shortcomings as a protection framework. 71 72 73 Park (n 12) 14–15. UNHCR Handbook (n 33) [20], quoted in Bianchini, ‘Protecting Stateless Persons’ (n 47) 85. Indeed, examining the geopolitical context relating to the future statehood of LLISs would require a deeper analysis of the dynamics at play. So far, the moral arguments in favour of maintained recognition have been key to claiming that no other state would contest the continued statehood of a deterritorialised LLIS. However, other factors may prompt members of the international community to withdraw their recognition. For instance, Ross mentions access to the rich exclusive economic zones of many LLISs, or their votes in multilateral fora as possible grounds for de-recognition: see Ross, ‘Low-Lying States’ (n 21) 162. Papić highlights the limitations of international law in addressing highly political situations: viewing state recognition as revocable recognises the limits of international law in managing controversial social realities, such as contested statehood. Namely, in such situations, it cannot be expected that international law will step in, translate political controversies into legal questions and somehow magically solve them: Papić (n 69) 729. 301