Haruko Satoh, a geopolitical analyst at the Osaka School of International Public Policy, and Jaewoo Choo, a renowned professor on China at Kyung Hee University in Seoul, South Korea, revisit a 2024 Osaka conference roundtable (Asian Political and International Studies Association) supported by the Korea Foundation to reassess Japan–South Korea cooperation as the regional premise shifts: new leaders in Seoul and Tokyo, a sharper US–China rivalry, and US President Donald Trump’s return to the White House. If both governments stop letting history disputes dominate the agenda, they can turn a volatile great-power contest into leverage — using policy coordination in security, supply chains and industrial strategy to protect their interests and shape outcomes.

Leadership turnover and a faster diplomatic rhythm

Satoh opens by noting how leadership changes in Japan–Korea relations tend to generate “anxiety or optimism,” and therefore unpredictability. South Korea’s transition from President Yoon Suk Yeol to President Lee Jae Myung and Japan’s rapid succession of prime ministers create both risk and opportunity: Bilateral ties can regress into grievance politics, or they can consolidate a forward-looking partnership.

Choo argues that Lee moves quickly despite the lack of a traditional transition period. In his telling, Lee signals seriousness by traveling early, attending key summits, and — most symbolically — making Japan his first stop en route to the United States. The two leaders also revive “shuttle diplomacy,” emphasizing frequent contact and reciprocal visits. Choo frames Lee as someone who wants to de-escalate historical disputes and prioritize coordination with Japan and the US, describing Lee’s posture succinctly: “He’s ready to move on.”

Satoh underscores the stakes of that choice. She sees earlier periods, especially when the “history card” becomes the centerpiece, as costly for both sides. She suggests that personalities in Tokyo mattered as much as disputes in Seoul. Even so, both speakers treat the current moment as unusually conducive to rebuilding habits of cooperation.

Why the “anti-Japan card” weakens

A major part of the conversation tests a common fear in Tokyo: that a leadership change in Seoul automatically means a turn back toward confrontation over comfort women, forced labor and related legal battles. Satoh suggests that past governments sometimes leaned too heavily on these issues, while also acknowledging that Japanese leadership choices affected the diplomatic room available.

Choo argues that recent court rulings have “settled the score” in ways that make reopening certain disputes legally harder. Additionally, he claims the political incentive structure is shifting. Polling by Seoul National University’s Peace Unification Institute shows that South Korean public sentiment toward Japan has generally been friendlier than toward China or Russia, with Japan typically ranking behind the US and North Korea. Without elite incitement, anti-Japan mobilization has diminishing returns.

That point matters because it reframes bilateral fragility. Instead of treating Japan–Korea ties as permanently hostage to historical memory, Satoh and Choo treat them as increasingly responsive to present-day strategic needs — especially economic security and managing China.

Trump 2.0 and the case for Japan–Korea leverage inside the alliance

Satoh and Choo diverge in tone on Trump. Satoh emphasizes the US president’s transactional instincts and doubts that he is “strategic” in a conventional sense. Choo, by contrast, reads Trump as capable of strategic calculation, offering an anecdote about his interest in the Bagram airbase in Afghanistan as evidence of China-focused thinking.

Despite this difference, they reach the same structural conclusion: Japan and South Korea have bargaining power because they sit at the center of any US strategy that aims to check China economically and militarily. As Choo puts it, “Japan and Korea are actually quite lucky, because we are at the frontline countries.”

Now, if Washington is serious about rebuilding US manufacturing capacity, tightening supply chains and sustaining deterrence in East Asia, Tokyo and Seoul are indispensable partners. That dependency, Satoh and Choo argue, should be translated into concrete gains during negotiations, rather than accepted as a one-way demand for alignment.

Industrial security and rebuilding bureaucratic channels

The most detailed discussion concerns a division of labor across the US–Japan–Korea technology ecosystem: US raw technology, Japanese equipment and intermediary inputs, and South Korean manufacturing scale. Choo argues that China understands this structure and therefore pressures Seoul (and implicitly Tokyo) to negotiate constraints with Washington first — because many of the binding limits are US-imposed export controls and sanctions.

Semiconductors, which are a vital component in many consumer, healthcare and military technologies, are the test case. Choo describes US restrictions as a “ceiling,” limiting the sale of advanced chips to China. He notes the knock-on effects for Korean-owned production in China. He recommends that Tokyo and Seoul coordinate by approaching Washington together, identify where restrictions are unnecessary or counterproductive and bargain for tailored easing that preserves core security concerns while reducing economic damage. As he says, the goal is to “move the ceiling” through joint leverage rather than isolated pleading.

Satoh adds a governance angle: Japan and Korea need deeper, more routine policy coordination beyond foreign ministries — especially because this era is driven by industry and economic security. To conclude, Choo suggests the Asian nations revive the once-close working relationship between Japan’s Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry and Korea’s industry ministry, treating industrial policy cooperation as the backbone of a more resilient Japan–Korea partnership in an age of US–China rivalry.

[Lee Thompson-Kolar edited this piece.]

The views expressed in this article/video are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.