In a moment that sent ripples through the region, Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi last week said out loud what no Japanese leader had dared to in the postwar era: if China attacks Taiwan, Japan’s own survival would be at stake. It was a blunt acknowledgement—and one that signals Japan might be prepared to step in directly to help Taiwan if a crisis erupts.
Across the water, South Korea is taking a very different approach.
When a news magazine asked then-presidential candidate Lee Jae-myung last May whether South Korea would help defend Taiwan during a Chinese invasion, his answer was a shrug wrapped in humour: “I will think about that answer when aliens are about to invade the Earth.” Now that he’s president, Lee still prefers to navigate cautiously between the U.S. and China. His team calls it pragmatism; his critics call it avoidance.
Some say South Korea’s caution is tied to its constant worries about North Korea. But Lee’s government has emphasised engagement with Pyongyang, not confrontation—which suggests something else is behind Seoul’s hesitation.
Analysts point to a deeper discomfort: South Korea simply does not want to take sides. It rarely asks hard questions about what a Taiwan conflict would mean for Koreans, or how the U.S. troops stationed in South Korea would react. That silence may feel safe, but experts warn it’s actually dangerous. In a region where misunderstandings can escalate fast, pretending a problem doesn’t exist only increases the risk of miscalculation.
And the truth is, South Korea has far more at stake than many realise.
Seoul is physically closer to Taiwan than Tokyo is. And economically, South Korea is tightly bound to the sea routes around Taiwan—more than 90 per cent of its maritime trade moves through the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea.
A war there would be devastating. A Bloomberg Economics report last year estimated that a Taiwan Strait conflict could drain 10 per cent from the entire global economy. South Korea’s losses? An astonishing 23.3 per cent—the second-worst impact in the world, behind only Taiwan. And that’s without firing a single shot.
So, for South Korea, a Taiwan crisis wouldn’t be a distant event happening to someone else. It would be a shock that hits home with full force.
Japan, for its part, has drawn a clear line and made its stance unmistakable. South Korea, meanwhile, sits behind a veil of ambiguity. But its geography and its economy make one thing undeniable: if Taiwan is pulled into turmoil, South Korea will not be insulated from the fallout.
Seoul now faces a choice—not theoretical, not someday, but now. It can prepare for the reality of what a Taiwan crisis would mean, or it can risk being caught unprepared when the stakes are highest.
In the end, the question for South Korea is simple: stay silent, or get ready. The consequences of choosing wrong could be enormous.
