China has responded with unusual ferocity to Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s suggestion that Japan might deploy its Self-Defense Forces in the event of a Taiwan crisis, combining diplomatic threats, economic coercion, and military pressure in a coordinated campaign of intimidation. At issue is not only Japan’s posture, but the broader regional balance, as Beijing tests whether wavering American resolve has created an opening to reshape Asia’s security architecture. For Washington, the stakes are now unmistakable: either reaffirm the credibility of its alliances or risk watching deterrence collapse in real time.

Beijing’s Escalatory Outburst

On November 7, during a Lower House Budget Committee session, Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi stated that Chinese military action against Taiwan, including a naval blockade, could constitute a “survival-threatening situation” for Japan and could justify the deployment of the Self-Defense Forces. She was careful to note that any such decision would depend on the circumstances at the time. Even so, Beijing interpreted her words not as a hypothetical legal observation, but as a political provocation.

China’s reaction was swift and deliberately theatrical. The Chinese Consul General in Osaka posted a later-deleted message that appeared to call for Takaichi’s decapitation. At the same time, a Foreign Ministry spokesman publicly condemned her remarks, invoking Japan’s wartime militarism and warning that Tokyo would face “consequences” unless it issued a correction and retraction. On November 14, China formally summoned Japan’s ambassador in Beijing to deliver its complaint in person. When Tokyo refused to back down, Beijing shifted from rhetoric to pressure.

That pressure has been systematic and varied. Economically, China reinstated restrictions on Japanese seafood imports, reduced Air China flights to Japan, and issued warnings to Chinese citizens advising them not to travel or study in Japan. On November 21, the Chinese Commerce Ministry announced that Takaichi’s comments had “severely damaged” bilateral trade ties, hinting broadly at further punitive measures to come.

Militarily, Beijing moved to raise the temperature. On November 18, four China Coast Guard vessels entered Japanese territorial waters near the disputed Senkaku Islands. That same day, Taiwan’s Ministry of National Defense reported the incursion of 30 Chinese military aircraft, seven PLA Navy vessels, and one China Coast Guard ship into Taiwan’s surrounding air and maritime space.

The propaganda machinery followed suit. Chinese state media published editorials warning that any “armed interference in China’s internal affairs” would be met with a “head-on counterblow,” accusing Takaichi of “poisoning Sino-Japanese relations,” and repeating the familiar warning that “those who play with fire will suffer consequences.”

When Japan dispatched a senior diplomat to Beijing on November 18 in a bid to calm tensions, Chinese officials made clear that the talks produced no movement on their central demand: retraction.

Japan’s Policy Hasn’t Changed

What makes Beijing’s sweeping response so revealing is that Takaichi’s comments represent continuity, not departure, in Japanese policy. Japan’s constitution formally renounces war, but for decades it has been interpreted to allow the limited use of force in response to an “armed attack” threatening the nation’s survival.

In 2015, the Diet approved security legislation authorizing collective self-defense when an attack on “a foreign country that is in a close relationship with Japan” could endanger Japan itself. While Tokyo officially describes its ties to Taiwan as a “non-governmental working relationship,” the strategic reality is harder to obscure. Any Taiwan contingency that involved the United States would almost certainly implicate Japan, given the presence of roughly 60,000 U.S. troops on Japanese territory and Japan’s status as Washington’s only treaty ally in East Asia.

Japanese leaders have said as much before. In 2021, then–Deputy Prime Minister Taro Aso remarked that a serious crisis in Taiwan could constitute a “survival-threatening situation” for Japan and might compel Japan to take military action alongside the United States. Nor was Takaichi’s interest in Taiwan novel. During an April visit to Taipei, she openly advocated for a “quasi-security alliance” linking Japan, Taiwan, Europe, and other Indo-Pacific democracies, arguing that regional stability increasingly depended on a networked response to Chinese pressure and uncertainty about American leadership.

Viewed in this context, Beijing’s reaction looks less like outrage and more like a strategy. The goal appears to be to coerce Japan into abandoning not just a comment, but a doctrine, while simultaneously warning other Indo-Pacific states against contemplating any future role in a Taiwan scenario. It is a test of will, staged in public.

American Weakness, Chinese Aggression

Beijing’s willingness to escalate so aggressively has not arisen in a vacuum. Chinese leaders appear to have concluded from Washington’s recent behavior, especially the signals of accommodation and hesitation emanating from the White House. The October 30 Trump–Xi summit in Busan marked a critical inflection point. After raising tariffs without first insulating critical supply chains, the United States found itself vulnerable to China’s sweeping rare earth export controls and ultimately backed down in the face of economic retaliation. In Beijing’s eyes, this was not merely a tactical dispute but a strategic milestone: proof that China could not only endure American pressure, but compel de-escalation on its own terms.

President Trump’s public framing of that meeting as a “G2” summit reinforced the impression of a nascent U.S.–China condominium, in which the two powers might manage global affairs while relegating traditional American partners to the margins. The cumulative effect was to project an image of an irresolute United States, uncertain of its obligations and increasingly transactional in its worldview.

That perception deepened following President Trump’s comments in a November 10 Fox News interview. When asked by Laura Ingraham about the crisis surrounding Japan, he declined to voice support for Tokyo, instead remarking that “a lot of our allies aren’t our friends either,” and arguing that allies had taken advantage of the United States on trade “more than China did,” before pivoting to praise his relationship with Chairman Xi. In Beijing, the reaction was immediate and gleeful. The Communist Party–owned Global Times framed the remarks as an implicit defense of China. On Weibo, commenters described Trump as adopting a “pro-China stance,” “speaking for China,” and “refusing to stand up for Takaichi.”

Jin Canrong, a prominent U.S.–China specialist at Renmin University, speculated publicly that while a Taiwan crisis might become a Japanese problem, a Japanese problem might not necessarily become an American one. A November 11 commentary on Guancha, the influential opinion platform, went further, suggesting that Trump viewed Takaichi as “foolishly pandering” to discredited American elites and had little interest in Taiwan at all.

The White House’s subsequent silence only amplified these interpretations. By November 20, Guancha was describing a situation in which “Takaichi is in turmoil, while the U.S. slips away.” The message Beijing absorbed was not subtle: coercion would likely go unanswered.

Back Tokyo, Strengthen Taipei

Allowing China to bully Prime Minister Takaichi into retreat would inflict lasting damage on regional deterrence. Japan sits at the center of any Taiwan contingency, both as a frontline state and as host to critical U.S. military infrastructure. If Beijing succeeds in forcing Tokyo to back down, other Indo-Pacific governments will draw their own conclusions about the futility of resistance and begin hedging accordingly, eroding the region’s collective security from within.

Washington still has time to change the trajectory, but only if it acts decisively. The first step must be public and unmistakable: a senior-level reaffirmation of support for Japan, a defense of Takaichi’s right to speak candidly about Taiwan, and a renewed declaration of the United States’ ironclad commitment to the U.S.–Japan alliance, including the defense of the Senkaku Islands. Beijing should be left in no doubt that coercion will not weaken the alliance, but rather tighten it.

Second, the United States should quietly but urgently shift the alliance’s operational focus toward Taiwan contingency planning. This means beginning discreet consultations on force employment, reinforcing logistics and pre-positioning in Japan, and expanding trilateral cooperation with Taiwan on intelligence sharing and operational planning. Washington should encourage Japan to meet ambitious defense spending targets, while making clear that Tokyo is regarded not as a subordinate, but as the United States’ closest ally in Asia and a valued global partner.

Finally, the hard military realities in Taiwan must be addressed with equal urgency. Washington should clear the backlog of pending arms deliveries and prioritize asymmetric capabilities, including air defense systems, anti-ship and anti-armor missiles, and critical munitions stockpiles. Support for Taiwan’s “T-Dome” missile defense initiative should be scaled up, with encouragement for Japanese technical and industrial contributions. Deterrence now depends less on rhetoric than on visible, tangible capacity.

Beijing’s message to Tokyo was blunt: fall in line or suffer the consequences. The question now is whether Washington is prepared to send an equally clear message in return.