Will South Korea get a worse deal than Japan?

As Seoul prepares to engage with Trump for his trademark “package deal” tariff negotiations, there is growing concern that Japan will ultimately walk away with a better deal.

Package deals of course involve trade: including tariffs and items previously not included in negotiations, such as cultural protection of media content, phyto-sanitary regulations, nationally protected and cultivated industries, and national healthcare services; as well as investment and defense costs. All issues that tug at a nation’s sense of sovereignty and independence.

If Tokyo secures exemptions and walks away with more favorable terms while Korea is pressured into broader concessions, the outcome will be viewed not as hard-nosed diplomacy but as a calculated humiliation. Such a humiliation will provoke a backlash in South Korea, where perceptions of unfair treatment by Washington - particularly involving Japan - quickly escalate from policy disputes to matters of national dignity.

Reason for concern?

Tokyo is squirming under Trump’s deal-making bravado. Seoul is next - and the reality is blunt. South Korea fears a much worse deal than Japan.

Trump likes punching down, and Korea simply doesn’t have the kind of support infrastructure in Washington that Japan enjoys.

Trump’s foreign policy instincts—if we can call them that—follow a simple logic: apply maximum pressure to those least able to resist. He bundles issues like trade deficits, defense cost-sharing, technology access, and security guarantees into single-package negotiations. This disrupts a long tradition in U.S. foreign policy - one that allowed both Japan and South Korea to develop and become the economically advanced liberal democracies that they are today. But it makes it incredibly difficult for alliance partners.

Japan has already signaled its willingness to play ball. Tokyo has been proactive—offering investment incentives, joint military exercises, and a steady stream of diplomatic niceties to keep Trump appeased. Japan’s government, bureaucrats, and business elites understand the theater Trump demands and know how to perform.

Tokyo also benefits from institutional trust built over decades. From hosting U.S. forces to purchasing American military hardware in bulk, Japan has made itself a well-oiled component of the U.S. security machine.

Japan has spent decades investing in think tanks, lobbying networks, and institutional relationships. Key American policymakers—on both sides of the aisle—know Japan, trust Japan, and understand Japan’s strategic value. Japan has also gone out of its way to be non-threatening and predictable. Its security posture is framed as defensive, and its diplomacy is carefully calibrated to avoid ideological flareups.

South Korea is starting behind the eight ball. As South Korea enters negotiations it does so from a position of institutional vulnerability and strategic confusion. Following the impeachment of President Yoon Suk-yeol, the country is led by an interim administration with no clear political mandate.

Political instability is kryptonite when facing Trump, who instinctively exploits perceived weakness. In short: Japan is ready; Korea is exposed.

Beyond Trump’s instincts lies a more structural problem for South Korea: it lacks deep, dependable support in Washington’s policy establishment. Korea’s presence in the U.S. capital is often overstated. While Korean firms have recently invested heavily in the U.S., and Korean culture has enjoyed a pop-culture boom, Korea’s political brand remains fragile.

South Korea has been periodically engulfed in Washington’s paranoia about espionage. The 1970s Koreagate scandal may be ancient history, but the stain lingers. More recently, the indictment of a former CIA analyst for allegedly acting as an unregistered agent of the South Korean government revived these old suspicions. Even among Korea’s friends in Washington, there’s a nagging worry: can Korea be trusted to play by the rules?

This mistrust has been amplified by Korea’s past progressive governments. Roh Moo-hyun’s calls for “autonomous diplomacy,” Moon Jae-in’s pursuit of inter-Korean rapprochement, and the public flirtation with reducing U.S. troop presence underlined a recurring theme: South Korea occasionally thinks it can chart an independent path.

For Washington hawks, this raises red flags. The prevailing narrative in some corners of D.C. is that Korea benefits from U.S. security guarantees while frequently hedging its bets.

Trump doesn’t care about nuance. He sees a divided, politically unstable South Korea with minimal friends in Congress and recent baggage tied to alleged subversion. He also sees an opportunity to extract maximum concessions. It’s all transactional and he’s punching downwards.

Trump’s demands include a long list - a multi-front settlement: higher payment for U.S. forces; market access for American firms; and Korean investment in the U.S. in areas like pharmaceuticals, biopharma, semiconductors, EVs, and shipping - essentially he’d like to de-industrialize Korea and move the best of it to America (which of course won’t work, but that’s another story). He also wants greater compliance with the U.S. desire to target China economically and militarily - so that he can then make a deal with China and sell everyone down river. It’s the art of the deal.

Tokyo, again, is likely to secure carve-outs. Its semiconductor industry is less threatening to American firms, its EV market is less state-driven, and its defense spending increases have been warmly received. Japan can give without bleeding.

South Korea, on the other hand, is more economically vulnerable. The chaebol structure, while resilient, is export-dependent and deeply entangled with global supply chains. Any tariff spike or market access rollback from the U.S. would reverberate across Korea’s economy. Trump knows this. His negotiators will, too.

Seoul’s limited options

What can South Korea do? Not much. It can attempt to coordinate with Japan, but Tokyo has every incentive to secure a bilateral deal first and let Seoul take the fall. That’s the prisoner’s dilemma - the scenario in game theory where two individuals acting in their own self-interest both end up worse off than if they had cooperated. South Korea can lobby Congress, but with a divided, inward-looking U.S. legislature, support will be tepid at best. It can appeal to international norms and fairness—but Trump doesn’t care.

What remains is hard realism. Korea will face a lopsided negotiation. It needs to consolidate its political leadership quickly, rebuild trust in Washington, and decide what red lines are truly non-negotiable. Otherwise, it risks being the ally that pays more, concedes faster, and gets less in return. In Trump’s world, loyalty is for sale, and Seoul’s price is about to be named. Trump will win - but the U.S. will not.

Trump’s short term gains will be a boon for his ego. Short-term gain will be the low-hanging fruit he needs as criticisms of his package deal negotiations mount. Those short-term gains will also be another marker in the trend that sees South Korea and the U.S. head down separate paths.