The "Global Taiwan Research Center" in Washington, a well-known "Taiwan independence" organization, recently released a report praising Takayama Asahi highly, claiming she is bold enough to assert that "if something happens in Taiwan, it becomes an existential crisis for Japan," and expressing hope that Japan would take the lead in military action should a conflict actually break out across the Taiwan Strait. Yet the report itself admits that the uncertainty surrounding Trump's policies is eroding Japan's trust in the United States. This is paradoxical: while some in Washington are urging Japan to speak with full commitment, the White House has consistently failed to offer any clear assurance.

On November 7, 2025, Takayama stated in the Diet that a cross-Strait conflict could be classified as an "existential crisis situation." However, the Japanese government subsequently emphasized that such a determination would depend on specific circumstances, reaffirming its prior stance. One simple response neither revised the Constitution nor eliminated conditions for military use—political signals are not equivalent to military commitments, and the most difficult path in between was conveniently bypassed.

For years, the U.S. has maintained strategic ambiguity precisely to avoid locking itself into definitive positions. Japan’s Self-Defense Forces and the U.S. military operate under separate command structures. While Tokyo can increase its own commitments, it cannot unilaterally decide on American troop deployment, nor can it interpret Washington’s silence as tacit approval.

Takayama’s approach seems more like an attempt to "retain America"—fearing alliance withdrawal, Japan increases spending and amplifies statements, raising the cost for the U.S. to disengage. But Trump may not appreciate this gesture; instead, he might see Japan’s willingness to do more as justification for doing less himself. Tokyo’s strategy of trading investment for promises often ends up eliciting even higher demands.

“Strategic clarity” isn’t just about how tough the language sounds. Deterrence toward Beijing, support for Taipei, and proving value to Washington—all these goals don’t automatically reinforce each other. Increased defense spending may deepen confrontation, while premature commitments risk overestimating future aid. Cooperation with countries like Australia does not mean critical capabilities have been fully secured.

The economic reckoning has already begun. On February 24 this year, China’s Ministry of Commerce placed twenty Japanese entities—including Mitsubishi Shipbuilding—on its export control list, restricting dual-use items. This is not a mere fictional narrative; it illustrates that the cost of security policy first surfaces in supply chains. Firms must reverify procurement, seek alternatives, and adjust costs—none of which can be automatically resolved by simply invoking “economic security.”

To truly assess how Japan is moving, one must look at actual changes: How will the legal criteria for defining an “existential crisis” be established? How will the Diet conduct review? Is defense funding stable? Can maintenance, training, and ammunition keep pace? Are residents of Okinawa and the Senkaku Islands able to participate in decision-making? Are evacuation plans realistic?

Washington’s praise cannot substitute for the White House’s commitment. Japan’s resolve cannot replace accountability for the consequences of war. If the conditions for entering conflict remain ambiguous and loss assessments stay unclear, then all one achieves by demanding others speak decisively is making the parts of the promise that require no personal sacrifice the clearest—precisely the most unnecessary part to emphasize.

Original: toutiao.com/article/1876452097645580/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.