Lee Jae-myung takes the helm of a fractured and unmoored Korea

Asia Times

2 days ago

As Lee Jae-myung assumes South Korea's presidency after a decisive electoral victory, the left-leaning leader inherits not just a nation beset by economic distress and political fatigue but a region tilting precariously toward geostrategic recalibration. North Korea, often the most volatile player in this theater, has reason to quietly celebrate.
For Pyongyang, the return of a progressive president in the Blue House is the best possible outcome short of Korean reunification on its own terms. Under conservative administrations—especially the now-impeached Yoon Suk Yeol—the North faced a hardline security posture, expanded joint military drills between the US and South Korea, and the near-collapse of any meaningful diplomatic dialogue.
Yoon's flirtation with Japan on trilateral military coordination, his vocal hawkishness and alignment with Washington's China containment strategy further agitated the North. Lee, while no apologist for the North, has signaled an openness to resuming inter-Korean dialogue, humanitarian aid and economic cooperation projects.
These preferences echo the Sunshine Policy-era instincts of earlier progressive leaders like Kim Dae-jung and Roh Moo-hyun, under whom North Korea was able to leverage peace overtures for both material gain and diplomatic legitimacy.
For North Korean leader Kim Jong Un, Lee's victory is not just breathing space—it is a new strategic opening. Even modest overtures from Seoul could be used to pressure Washington into easing sanctions, to portray the North as a willing partner in peace and to sow division between the US and South Korea on policy direction.
North Korea thrives not in alignment, but in asymmetry. Lee's presidency, therefore, offers precisely that: a fragmented strategic environment ripe for manipulation.
China, too, has reasons to be quietly pleased. While Beijing publicly maintains a policy of non-interference, its preference for left-leaning South Korean governments is no secret.
The conservative Yoon administration had drawn South Korea deeper into Washington's Indo-Pacific strategy, even hinting at South Korea's involvement in supply chain 'friend-shoring' that would exclude China.
Lee, by contrast, has voiced skepticism about the over-militarization of regional diplomacy and hinted at recalibrating Seoul's strategic autonomy. His emphasis on economic revival, job creation and technological innovation aligns with Beijing's vision of a less confrontational regional order.
Additionally, Lee's expected moderation on issues like Taiwan and the South China Sea—compared to Yoon's vocally pro-US stance—will make him more acceptable to Chinese policymakers.
From Beijing's perspective, the best scenario is a South Korea that remains allied to the US in security terms but is economically interdependent with China and politically wary of strategic entrapment. Lee's presidency will likely fit that mold.
Still, Lee's mandate is far from stable in a deeply polarized South Korea. Yoon's impeachment followed months of unrest, accusations of executive overreach and the final misstep of invoking martial law, which many South Koreans interpreted as a grave assault on democracy.
Lee's victory represents a public demand for change, but not necessarily a blank check. His own reputation is under scrutiny. Accusations of corruption during his tenure as mayor of Seongnam and governor of Gyeonggi province still linger despite his denials. Legal proceedings will continue, casting a shadow over his presidency.
The economy, too, is teetering. South Korea's projected 0.8% GDP growth in 2025 is alarming for a nation that once epitomized go-go economic development. A toxic mix of youth unemployment, housing unaffordability and stagnant wages has bred cynicism among younger voters—many of whom backed Lee not out of loyalty, but frustration.
And then there is the healthcare crisis. The mass resignation of junior doctors over medical school reform—aimed at solving a looming doctor shortage—has left hospitals understaffed. Lee must broker a truce between a defiant medical establishment and a public desperate for accessible care.
If mishandled, this issue could unravel his domestic credibility faster than any foreign policy stumble.
Lee's most treacherous challenge will be in foreign affairs. His task is nothing less than redefining South Korea's role in a region fractured by US-China rivalry, destabilized by a bellicose North Korea and overshadowed by global economic fragmentation.
Lee must recalibrate Seoul's policy toward Pyongyang without undermining deterrence. Missile provocations, cyberattacks and nuclear brinkmanship by the North will not abate simply because of Lee's willingness to engage.
Any dialogue must be carefully constructed within the framework of UN Security Council sanctions and regional consensus. Kim Jong Un is likely to test Lee early—perhaps with a missile launch or a cyber operation—to assess whether conciliatory rhetoric translates into policy leniency.
Lee must respond decisively enough to preserve domestic confidence, yet not so aggressively that he forecloses future dialogue.
To be sure, President Donald Trump's return to power complicates Lee's balancing act. Trump has already demanded greater defense spending from allies and suggested reducing America's 28,500-strong troop presence in South Korea unless Seoul pays more.
These transactional instincts run counter to the institutionalism that undergirds the US-ROK alliance.
Lee must navigate these pressures without appearing submissive to Washington or vulnerable to Pyongyang. Managing the Combined Forces Command relationship and the extended deterrence commitment—especially nuclear—will require cool-headed and consistent diplomacy.
Lee must also resist any impulse by Trump to weaponize trade, tariffs or technology against South Korea's economy.
China, while economically vital, is diplomatically assertive. South Korea's THAAD deployment in 2016 led to punitive economic retaliation by Beijing, a wound still felt in the Korean tourism, retail and entertainment sectors.
Mostly, Lee must avoid being drawn into a binary US-China choice. Instead, his administration should promote a 'strategic pivotal power diplomacy'—partnering more actively with ASEAN, with which Seoul enjoys a Comprehensive Strategic Partnership, allowing it to join minilateral forums such as the Mekong-Korea, and supporting multilateral digital governance that reduces dependence on either pole.
These moves will signal autonomy without antagonism.
Lee enters the Blue House with high expectations but little margin for error. His presidency must be one of pragmatism without paralysis, engagement without appeasement and reform without rupture.
For Pyongyang, Lee's rise represents an opportunity. For Beijing, it marks a welcome shift. But for Lee himself, this is a moment of great peril disguised as promise.
His legacy will ultimately be judged not by rhetoric but by his ability to stabilize a wounded nation, navigate great-power rivalries and restore the democratic spirit South Koreans so recently took to the streets to protect.
Phar Kim Beng, PhD, is professor of ASEAN Studies at the International Islamic University of Malaysia and a senior visiting fellow at the University of Cambridge.