The Han Kuang 2025 military exercises marked a major shift in how Taiwan prepares for war.
For the first time, the annual national exercise combined ten days of live-fire combat training with a full-society readiness push. Civilians across all 22 counties and cities practiced air raid response, medical supply distribution, food rationing and emergency communications.
On the military side, Taiwan deployed new US-supplied weapons including M1A2T Abrams tanks, HIMARS rocket artillery and upgraded coastal defense missiles. Drones, cyberattacks and joint command systems were tested more seriously than in previous years.
This time, the preparation also moved into real-world spaces—Taipei Metro stations, morning markets and major intersections—bringing the public closer to the actual scenarios Taiwan could face. The simulation was no longer abstract; it was physical, visible and local. The political message was clear: Taiwan is preparing as if conflict could be real, and soon.
Still, Han Kuang only covers the end game—what happens if China launches a full attack? It leaves a major gap at the beginning of the conflict. What happens when the threat is not missiles, but cyberattacks, disinformation, cable sabotage, or energy disruption? Taiwan is practicing for total war, but the grey zone is already here.
This article examines what that preparation means. Is Taiwan able to hold the line alone before allies arrive? Is the public truly ready? What is the United States signaling through its support—and is it enough? Are Taiwan’s regional partners building a defense that matches the threat? And finally, what must be done now, while there is still time to act?
Domestic reaction, political messaging
Taiwanese society has not always viewed Han Kuang with urgency. In the 1990s and early 2000s, it was widely seen as symbolic—just a routine show of weapons, disconnected from any real threat. During calmer periods such as the Ma Ying-jeou presidency, the event was often criticized as out of sync with public sentiment, more about appearances than substance.
The 2025 iteration felt different. Facing near-daily Chinese military pressure, the exercise received stronger support from the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). President Lai Ching-te declared July as “National Unity Month,” framing public participation as a democratic responsibility. DPP officials used the moment to send a message to both Beijing and Washington: Taiwan is not just waiting—it is actively preparing.
The opposition Kuomintang (KMT), however, raised concerns. While not opposing the exercise outright, KMT lawmakers argued it lacked real coordination with allies and risked giving the public false confidence. Their position reflected a broader divide—between those promoting political resolve and those questioning its depth.
Public opinion reflects this tension. About 67.8% of respondents say they are willing to fight for Taiwan, and 51% support increasing the defense budget—the first time that figure has passed 50%. Yet only 14% express strong confidence in the military’s ability to fight effectively. The desire to be ready is growing, but belief in actual readiness remains limited.
That gap deepened after several safety incidents during the exercise. A US-made M1A2 tank collided with a civilian vehicle. A missile transport vehicle blocked traffic while turning. An armored car flipped over in Taitung, injuring soldiers.
No lives were lost, but the string of mishaps raised an uncomfortable question: if basic coordination breaks down in practice runs, how would it hold under attack? Critics pointed to weaknesses in logistics, communication, and execution—saying that appearances had improved, but fundamentals remained shaky.
Han Kuang 2025 expanded civilian participation, introduced updated systems and signaled stronger political will. But confidence lags behind ambition. Planning still focuses on conventional military engagements, even as the more likely threats—cyberattacks, disinformation, sabotage—remain underdeveloped.
The island has shown it is willing to prepare. Whether that preparation is enough remains in question.
US support gap
Taiwan’s military depends on the United States. Over 90% of its key weapons come from America, and its strategy is built on the idea that the US will show up if war breaks out.
In 2025, US Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth named Taiwan the Pentagon’s “animating scenario,” putting it at the center of US global planning. A classified directive now tells the US military to focus more forces like submarines, bombers, drones and special ops to deter a Chinese cross-strait attack.
But there’s a big gap between what’s said and what’s done. Hegseth told allies at Shangri-La that the US would “fight and win” if deterrence failed. But there’s still no joint command, no large training together, and no clear plan to fight as one team.
Admiral Mark Montgomery said 500 US troops are now in Taiwan—10 times more than in 2021—but they’re just rotating trainers and are not believed to be a combat force. He even said it should double to 1,000. That’s a signal, but not enough to change outcomes.
Yes, the US Congress has backed Taiwan with real money. In FY2025, it approved $300 million in support, then $500 million for FY2026. It also passed an $8.1 billion Indo-Pacific bill, with $2 billion set aside just for Taiwan.
Lawmakers keep voting in favor—most bills pass with over 300 House votes. But most of these efforts are stuck in slow delivery. Training programs and joint planning still haven’t happened. Equipment orders are delayed. Taiwan buys, but it doesn’t receive.
This relationship is stuck. It runs on delays, speeches, and symbolic help. That might build headlines—but it doesn’t build a war plan. The US says it stands with Taiwan, but the real structure to fight together still doesn’t exist.
Meanwhile, the enemy is not waiting. China runs exercises all the time. It prepares for war more often—and more seriously—than Taiwan or its partners. Right now, we are not keeping pace.
Talisman Sabre rattling
Talisman Sabre 2025 was the largest military exercise in the Indo-Pacific this year. It involved 35,000 troops from 19 countries and 3 observers, training across land, sea, air, cyber, and space domains.
The scenario was clear: a high-end conflict in East Asia, modeled on a potential Taiwan contingency. The US deployed its Typhon missile system to the region for the first time, while Australia launched HIMARS rockets in simulated counterstrikes.
But Taiwan was not invited. The country most likely to be attacked and the one the whole exercise quietly centers on was excluded. While Japan and the Philippines trained as frontline participants and countries like the UK, France, Germany, India, and Singapore joined in supporting roles, Taiwan was left outside the coordination table.
This disconnect carries real risk. A coalition may look strong on paper, but without practical planning that includes Taiwan, coordination in a crisis could fail. Military forces from across the Indo-Pacific are building habits and protocols together—while Taiwan is still preparing alone.
Talisman Sabre was meant to signal readiness to Beijing. But it should also raise concern in Taipei. Taiwan’s security is central to regional planning, yet it remains politically isolated from the exercises that matter most. That silence is not strategy. It is a vulnerability.
Parallel plans, shared deterrence
Despite all the improvements, Taiwan is still getting ready on its own. There is no joint plan with allies for handling a breakdown in civil order. No shared response for economic attacks. No coordination for protecting digital systems. That silence feels familiar. It is what Ukraine faced when the war began and partners waited to see what Washington would do.
This cannot happen again. The US will play a key role, but it cannot be the only one. Regional defense must take the lead, with US support as a partner, not a trigger. Allies keep preparing for a final large-scale war but are still ignoring the early warning signs that are already here.
China is testing Taiwan daily through pressure, interference and slow-moving threats. Yet Indo-Pacific countries have not made clear commitments. Taiwan still does not know who will help, how or when.
Taiwan’s numbers show how urgent this is. The 2025 defense budget was about $20.25. That is just eight% of China’s official defense spending and only 5% if we count estimates of China’s full military budget at $390 billion.
Even if Taiwan reaches its goal of spending 3% of its GDP in 2026, the number will still be under $25 billion—less than what China adds in a single year. Bigger budgets alone will not fix the problem. What matters more is faster coordination and stronger partnerships.
Taiwan’s partners are not moving fast enough. Han Kuang 2025 brought in 22,000 reservists and expanded civil defense. But it is still a national-level exercise trying to prepare for a regional war.
There is no shared command, no joint cyber protection and no regional backup plan if Taiwan’s economy or power systems are hit. China’s Strait Thunder 2025A training had none of these gaps. It included blockades, power grid attacks, and missile strikes—clear signals of how it would fight. While China prepares for real conflict, Taiwan’s partners are still stuck in speeches and rehearsals.
Taiwan should raise its defense spending target to 3.4% of GDP. That extra 4.7 billion dollars should go directly to programs that help work with allies and respond to gray-zone threats. Han Kuang should not stay a solo effort. It should open the door to Japan, Australia, and South Korea so that they can plan and train together.
The Pacific Deterrence Initiative should shift more funding to build real shared capabilities, not just US-led efforts. And the region needs a new group—modeled after the Ukraine Defense Contact Group—that includes Taiwan and meets regularly to share plans, intelligence, and logistics.
Symbolic support is not enough. If a real strike comes, what matters is what is already in place.
War clock ticking down
2027 is no longer a distant warning. It’s a schedule. China is not posturing. It is practicing, testing and moving with purpose. Every military action, cyber intrusion, and blockade rehearsal is aimed at one place: Taiwan. And everyone is watching—Japan, Australia, Southeast Asia, Europe, the United States. But no one watches more closely than China itself.
Taiwan is running out of time. Defense planning must move faster than political debate. Real preparation has to replace signals. Taiwan must act before asking others to act with it. That means stronger training, better planning and deeper cooperation.
The world is watching, and so is the enemy.
Yenting Lin is a Master’s student in Public Policy at George Mason University. He holds a B.A. and B.S. from National Chung Cheng University in Taiwan. His research focuses on algorithmic hate speech, AI-driven misinformation, and their impact on national security and U.S.–Taiwan–China relations. His work has been featured in Small Wars Journal, American Intelligence Journal, and The Defence Horizon Journal. The views in this article are his own.
