Two Months' Reprieve and Its Price
The central event of this period unfolded in Washington. On September 24, Trump and Xi Jinping sat face to face at the White House. Xi's state visit to the U.S. was the first in 11 years since 2015, and the first summit in four months since the Beijing talks in May. The agenda included extending the tariff truce set to expire on November 10, critical minerals such as rare earths, AI, and Taiwan. But the outcome defied earlier leaked expectations. A one-year extension had been mentioned, but what U.S. Treasury Secretary Bessent and Vice Premier He Lifeng agreed upon at the World Bank headquarters the day before the summit was a two-month extension, until January 10 of next year. It extended the lifespan of the so-called "Busan Agreement" reached in Busan last October by two months. Bessent explained that it was to secure more time to determine what could be done in the economic sphere.
How should we read these two months? This is not a settlement but a reprieve. It is a time for the world's two largest capitals to postpone their dispute for two months while they sort out what to demand from each other's spheres of influence. And the calculations of the country sitting in the mediating position are the dependent variable of this negotiation. Semiconductors, batteries, steel, petrochemicals — South Korea's flagship industries are stacked on the negotiation timetable of the two great powers. What we must ask is not whether the truce was extended. It is which side will present what bill to South Korea during these two months. The bill is already out. $350 billion in strategic investment in the U.S., with a Texas power plant mentioned as the first project, and Trump mentioning targeted tariffs on foreign semiconductors and urging production within the U.S. President Lee emphasized Korea-U.S. shipbuilding cooperation at the New York investment summit and stated that strategic U.S. vessels would be built at Hanwha Philly Shipyard. The conditions under which the shipyard workers of a country that builds warships are placed are not written in that sentence.
At the same time, the issue of dispatching troops to the Strait of Hormuz had hardened into a dilemma. In a press conference on September 18, President Lee stated the principle that there would be no dispatch involving participation or intervention in war, and instead said he would consider strengthening the Cheonghae Unit's role to protect national merchant ships and oil transport routes. SisaIN assessed it as more dangerous and controversial than the Iraq War. 601 civic organizations opposed it, saying young people cannot be driven into dangerous waters, and anti-dispatch marches continued in the streets. What must be seen here is not the dichotomy of dispatch or no dispatch. The very distinction — 'no combat troops, but we protect merchant ships' — shows what position we have been assigned within the imperialist order. Whose interest is the safety of oil transport routes? It is a cost issue for South Korean refiners and chaebols, and at the same time it is the U.S. front line of containment against Iran. Going out to sea under the name of protecting merchant ships is an accounting that counts the lives of our workers as a cost for the stability of global capital's logistics.
This axis was most clearly revealed at Samsung Biologics. Labor and management held a second post-mediation session at the Incheon Regional Labor Relations Commission on September 22, but the company sent only team-leader-level negotiating representatives, not vice-president level, and the union judged there was no possibility of a settlement. The union's demands were a 6.5 percent wage increase plus 3 million won, and a 3 percent performance increase, while the company offered 4.1 percent and 2.1 percent. But the real issue is not these percentages. The clause requiring labor-management agreement on executive personnel and decision-making processes — the very clause the company has rejected as infringing on personnel and management rights — is the essence. Following the breakdown of mediation in March, the union continued with a partial strike in April, a full strike in May, and a compliance struggle refusing overtime and holiday work. The company's putting forward team leaders is not a matter of willingness to negotiate but a declaration that it will not put decision-making authority on the table. This scene proves once again that a few percentage points in wage increase are merely figures layered on top.
And behind all of this lies a single number. On September 23, the Asian Development Bank raised South Korea's growth forecast for this year from 2.6 percent in July to 3.2 percent. On the same day, Taiwan's was upgraded from 9.5 percent to 11.0 percent. Both countries cited tailwinds from semiconductor and AI exports, but the gap widened to 7.8 percentage points. The semiconductor boom came equally to both countries, yet one is at 3.2 and the other at 11. This gap is not a difference in diligence. It is a difference in which link of the chain one sits on. Taiwan holds the upper end of foundry and design, while South Korea sits at the lower layer of memory mass production. The reason the same tailwind blows with different magnitudes is not the wind but the position. This gap is exactly why we must re-examine the discourse of a semiconductor 'powerhouse' every time.
Thus this period converges into a single question. It was the two leaders in Washington who secured the two-month reprieve, the office that calculates the price of that reprieve is the Blue House, and the people who pay that price with their bodies are in the shipyards, the fab lines, and the waters of Hormuz. Where is the decision-making authority, and who pays the cost? At the table of the two leaders who will meet again in two months, there is no seat for South Korean workers. Unless we create that seat, we will forever remain a dependent variable calculating our own fate on another country's timetable.
How should we read these two months? This is not a settlement but a reprieve. It is a time for the world's two largest capitals to postpone their dispute for two months while they sort out what to demand from each other's spheres of influence. And the calculations of the country sitting in the mediating position are the dependent variable of this negotiation. Semiconductors, batteries, steel, petrochemicals — South Korea's flagship industries are stacked on the negotiation timetable of the two great powers. What we must ask is not whether the truce was extended. It is which side will present what bill to South Korea during these two months. The bill is already out. $350 billion in strategic investment in the U.S., with a Texas power plant mentioned as the first project, and Trump mentioning targeted tariffs on foreign semiconductors and urging production within the U.S. President Lee emphasized Korea-U.S. shipbuilding cooperation at the New York investment summit and stated that strategic U.S. vessels would be built at Hanwha Philly Shipyard. The conditions under which the shipyard workers of a country that builds warships are placed are not written in that sentence.
At the same time, the issue of dispatching troops to the Strait of Hormuz had hardened into a dilemma. In a press conference on September 18, President Lee stated the principle that there would be no dispatch involving participation or intervention in war, and instead said he would consider strengthening the Cheonghae Unit's role to protect national merchant ships and oil transport routes. SisaIN assessed it as more dangerous and controversial than the Iraq War. 601 civic organizations opposed it, saying young people cannot be driven into dangerous waters, and anti-dispatch marches continued in the streets. What must be seen here is not the dichotomy of dispatch or no dispatch. The very distinction — 'no combat troops, but we protect merchant ships' — shows what position we have been assigned within the imperialist order. Whose interest is the safety of oil transport routes? It is a cost issue for South Korean refiners and chaebols, and at the same time it is the U.S. front line of containment against Iran. Going out to sea under the name of protecting merchant ships is an accounting that counts the lives of our workers as a cost for the stability of global capital's logistics.
This axis was most clearly revealed at Samsung Biologics. Labor and management held a second post-mediation session at the Incheon Regional Labor Relations Commission on September 22, but the company sent only team-leader-level negotiating representatives, not vice-president level, and the union judged there was no possibility of a settlement. The union's demands were a 6.5 percent wage increase plus 3 million won, and a 3 percent performance increase, while the company offered 4.1 percent and 2.1 percent. But the real issue is not these percentages. The clause requiring labor-management agreement on executive personnel and decision-making processes — the very clause the company has rejected as infringing on personnel and management rights — is the essence. Following the breakdown of mediation in March, the union continued with a partial strike in April, a full strike in May, and a compliance struggle refusing overtime and holiday work. The company's putting forward team leaders is not a matter of willingness to negotiate but a declaration that it will not put decision-making authority on the table. This scene proves once again that a few percentage points in wage increase are merely figures layered on top.
And behind all of this lies a single number. On September 23, the Asian Development Bank raised South Korea's growth forecast for this year from 2.6 percent in July to 3.2 percent. On the same day, Taiwan's was upgraded from 9.5 percent to 11.0 percent. Both countries cited tailwinds from semiconductor and AI exports, but the gap widened to 7.8 percentage points. The semiconductor boom came equally to both countries, yet one is at 3.2 and the other at 11. This gap is not a difference in diligence. It is a difference in which link of the chain one sits on. Taiwan holds the upper end of foundry and design, while South Korea sits at the lower layer of memory mass production. The reason the same tailwind blows with different magnitudes is not the wind but the position. This gap is exactly why we must re-examine the discourse of a semiconductor 'powerhouse' every time.
Thus this period converges into a single question. It was the two leaders in Washington who secured the two-month reprieve, the office that calculates the price of that reprieve is the Blue House, and the people who pay that price with their bodies are in the shipyards, the fab lines, and the waters of Hormuz. Where is the decision-making authority, and who pays the cost? At the table of the two leaders who will meet again in two months, there is no seat for South Korean workers. Unless we create that seat, we will forever remain a dependent variable calculating our own fate on another country's timetable.