South Korea’s turn from NATO

South Korean President Lee Jae-myung will skip the NATO summit in The Hague, citing urgent economic concerns at home following the U.S. strike on Iran and rising oil prices. His absence, alongside those of the Japanese and Australian prime ministers, highlights that U.S. partners in the Indo-Pacific are wary of U.S. unpredictability under Trump, and are cooling toward the NATO-IP4 (Indo-Pacific Four, including Australia, Japan, South Korea and New Zealand) framework.

Each state has their own rationales. South Korea has three: diplomatic timing, strategic delay; and the decreased relevance of NATO-IP4 framework.

First, diplomatic timing. Meeting President Trump for the first time at NATO would be ill-timed and risky. With war escalating in the Middle East and his political standing under pressure, Trump will enter the NATO summit volatile and demanding—conditions that make any bilateral engagement unpredictable. Trump is famously reactive under stress, and the optics of a sit-down with a hesitant ally could provoke a public rebuke or private ultimatum. For President Lee, who understands the delicacy required in managing Trump, the calculus is clear: it is better to wait than to walk into a room where frustration is high and tempers are short.

Second, the Lee administration is still formulating its broader approach to U.S. trade pressure, particularly on tariffs and industrial policy. With little to gain from premature commitments, delay has become a deliberate strategy. By staying home, Lee avoids being boxed into agreements before Seoul has finalized its economic posture—and signals that South Korea will not be rushed into concessions just to preserve appearances.

Delay has become a strategic tool in navigating negotiations with the United States. Japan is currently employing it with growing confidence despite U.S. pressure over looming auto tariffs. Tokyo has pushed back against artificial deadlines, with its chief negotiator openly stating that the July 9 suspension is “not a deadline.” South Korea no longer wants to be first!

This reflects a broader recognition that U.S. deal announcements are often more performative than final—typically frameworks rather than completed agreements, as seen in past trade rounds with both China and the UK.

In these cases, headline-grabbing declarations masked months of unresolved technical details. By slowing the pace and resisting a premature meeting, South Korea is signaling that it won’t be rushed into unfavorable terms—especially when the political environment in Washington is volatile and driven by optics over substance.

Third, South Korea’s participation in NATO forums was never about shared ideology, collective defense, or grand visions of liberal internationalism. It was pure mercantilism. It was always about markets—specifically, gaining access to the European and global arms markets. That objective has largely been met.

During the Moon and Yoon administrations, South Korea intensified its outreach to NATO. IP4 participation was branded as a strategic partnership, a show of solidarity between democratic allies across two oceans. But behind the diplomatic vocabulary was a much more utilitarian motivation.

As discussed previously, South Korea’s partnership with NATO is mercantile. South Korea’s booming defense industry needed customers and credibility. Europe—spooked by the war in Ukraine and hungry for rapid rearmament—offered both. Poland, Norway, Romania, and others lined up for Korean tanks, howitzers, and armaments.

The NATO connection, and South Korea’s position within the framework, highlighted South Korea’s credibility and reliability as a supplier to potential customers across the globe. The NATO connection, while never institutionalized, provided the optics and access South Korea needed to make its pitch.

But this window is closing. South Korea has secured acceptance as a credible and reliable supplier. Many of the major deals have already been signed. The demand that drove Korean defense exports in Europe is stabilizing. European governments are refocusing on long-term domestic production, integration within the EU Defense Fund, and inter-operability among NATO members. South Korea remains a respected partner—but no longer a novelty. And the diplomatic utility of engaging with NATO has declined accordingly.

More importantly, the broader context has shifted dramatically. Trump’s opposition has thrown cold water on NATO’s flirtations with global expansion. IP4 was always more an American initiative than a European one—a Washington-branded framework intended to link like-minded states and signal strategic coherence between the Atlantic and the Indo-Pacific.

Trump has little patience for such symbolism. His administration is already pressuring European allies to focus on their own defense burdens and has made clear that American commitments are conditional, tactical, and tied to transactional gains. With Washington pulling NATO inward, the momentum behind IP4 is gone.

For Seoul, the writing is on the wall. The logic of IP4 was always contingent. It made sense when Europe was thinking about buying Korean weapons, when NATO was seeking global relevance, and when the United States wanted to knit its allies together into a seamless web of democratic deterrence.

None of those conditions apply now. The weapons have been purchased and South Korea is widely accepted as a supplier. The U.S. is more insular. NATO is overstretched and facing internal rifts. Europe is preoccupied with Ukraine and economic stagnation. And South Korea, acutely aware of its own neighborhood, is recalibrating.

Official South Korean statements now emphasize regional bilateral and minilateral partnerships in the Indo-Pacific or “pragmatism” rather than expansive multilateralism. The mood in Seoul is clear: the IP4 chapter has served its purpose.

NATO’s step into the Indo-Pacific was always short-sighted. It never had a coherent Asia strategy and its interest in the Indo-Pacific was always more rhetorical than real. The alliance lacks the logistical capability, political consensus, or appetite for a sustained presence in Asia.

NATO’s core function—defending Europe—has only grown more urgent with Russia’s entrenchment in Ukraine and the possibility of renewed instability in the Baltics or Balkans. The idea of a global NATO was always aspirational. Under Trump, it’s not even that.

For South Korea, continuing to participate in a sidelined, faltering initiative like IP4 serves no strategic purpose. The country faces immediate and concrete challenges: a nuclear North Korea, a more assertive China, and an unpredictable United States. What it needs is flexibility, autonomy, and options—not symbolic platforms that no longer function. Bilateral cooperation with the U.S. remains essential, but even that is now being reevaluated in light of Trump’s unpredictability and the wider erosion of alliance norms.

NATO, in short, was a useful stepping stone for Seoul—a platform to showcase its defense capabilities, build reputation, and tap into new markets. But its utility was always finite. With the arms deals signed and the platform losing relevance, the incentive to remain engaged is fading fast.

In that sense, South Korea’s NATO moment was not the beginning of a new global role, but the final stage of an export strategy.

There are plenty who will disagree with me on this point. The heopoongjaengi or big talkers of the thinktank world are still selling the notion that South Korea is on board with NATO. They were wrong earlier when they were convinced South Korea would support Ukraine, and they’re wrong now.

In the coming months, expect Seoul’s presence in NATO-affiliated forums to shrink. Participation will be minimal, statements will be generic, and enthusiasm will be muted. The government will distance itself from the over-extension of the Yoon Administration and prioritize more functional relationships in Asia.

What Seoul won’t do is double down on a European alliance structure that is now being reshaped by a U.S. administration that sees little value in global partnership for its own sake.

The story of South Korea and NATO was always one of convenience with mercantilism at its heart, never ideological conviction or strategic necessity. Now that the convenience has expired, the relationship will quietly fade.