South Korea must rethink its one-sided courtship of North Korea

UPI

3 days ago

One of President Lee Jae Myung's earliest moves since taking office was to halt loudspeaker broadcasts at the DMZ. File photo by Jin-hee Park/EPA
July 25 (UPI) -- Earlier this month, South Korea's National Intelligence Service quietly and abruptly suspended its decades-long radio and television broadcasts targeting North Korea.
The decision -- made just 10 days after the inauguration of NIS Director Lee Jong-seok --marks a significant and sudden break from a 50-year tradition of information outreach to the North. When questioned by the press, the agency simply responded, "We cannot confirm."
Though the suspension is being presented as a gesture of goodwill aimed at reviving inter-Korean dialogue, the Lee Jae Myung administration's increasingly unilateral and unquestioning approach to North Korea deserves serious scrutiny.
NIS broadcasting to the North dates to 1973, when it formally took over operations from the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency. The radio programs -- such as Voice of the People and Echo of Hope -- have long served as a vital source of uncensored information for North Korean listeners.
In the 1980s, the South also began television transmissions, adapted to North Korea's PAL system. Many defectors have testified that these broadcasts were their first exposure to the realities of life in the South.
It is no surprise, then, that 38 North, a Washington-based North Korea monitoring outlet, described the suspension as a "major victory" for Pyongyang in its battle against outside information.
These broadcasts continued for decades across all administrations -- liberal and conservative alike -- regardless of the state of inter-Korean relations. Even the progressive governments of Kim Dae-jung, Roh Moo-hyun, and Moon Jae-in never halted them.
Like the West German broadcasts that relentlessly reached across the Berlin Wall during the Cold War, South Korea's airwaves played a quiet, but strategic, role in informing and inspiring hope in the North. That this effort was shut down without a single explanation or public discussion is as shocking as it is unprecedented. "Unconditional," even "blind," affection for North Korea is not an unfair characterization.
President Lee Jae Myung did pledge to pursue inter-Korean reconciliation during his campaign. Since taking office, he has acted swiftly to make good on that promise. One of his earliest moves was to halt loudspeaker broadcasts at the DMZ. In response, Pyongyang immediately turned off its own propaganda speakers the following day. Though the move was unilateral, North Korea's mirrored response sparked cautious optimism.
On July 8, South Korean civic groups -- most notably the Korean War Abductees' Family Union -- also announced a voluntary suspension of leaflet launches across the border, which North Korea has long condemned. This, too, was not a spontaneous civilian decision. It was facilitated through active persuasion by the Unification Minister nominee, vice ministers and several lawmakers.
The initiative was undertaken without prior consultation with the North, yet it succeeded in calming a volatile issue. North Korea had previously retaliated by sending balloons filled with garbage and equipped with GPS trackers into the South. Many residents of border towns welcomed the decision as a measure to ease their suffering.
But recent steps have raised the stakes. On July 9 -- just one day after the leaflet suspension -- South Korean authorities repatriated six North Korean fishermen rescued from coastal waters in the East and West Seas. After repairing one of the wooden boats in which they had arrived, the navy and coast guard escorted the men to the Northern Limit Line, where a North Korean patrol vessel and a presumed tugboat were waiting.
Earlier, South Korean military and maritime authorities rescued four North Korean individuals aboard a drifting vessel in the East Sea on May 27, and two more from a separate boat in the West Sea on March 7.
The wooden boat used in the July 9 repatriation was the same vessel rescued from the East Sea. The boat from the West Sea, however, was deemed beyond repair and ultimately abandoned. Demonstrating an unusual level of dedication, the Lee Jae Myung government undertook repairs of the damaged North Korean vessel to ensure the safe return of its passengers.
The July 9 repatriation marked 43 days since the East Sea group was rescued and 124 days since the West Sea group's rescue. The government stated that all six expressed a clear desire to return home, and that Pyongyang's persistent silence had delayed the process. Eventually, Seoul issued a final notification via the United Nations Command, complete with coordinates for the handover point.
Still, this was a highly sensitive move. North Korean defector repatriations carry heavy political and ethical risks, especially when the individual's intent is unclear.
The 2019 case of two North Korean sailors -- who were forcibly returned via Panmunjom despite reportedly expressing a desire to defect -- ignited international outcry and legal consequences. It took until February 2025 for a South Korean court to issue suspended sentences against officials involved in the incident, which became a national controversy over human rights.
In this latest case, the government has emphasized that the fishermen's return was voluntary. But the lack of North Korean cooperation and the unilateral nature of the move mean that the possibility of another human rights controversy cannot be ruled out. Despite that risk, the administration went forward -- using even the United Nations Command as a channel -- without receiving any reciprocal response or goodwill gesture from Pyongyang.
All of this raises a difficult, but essential, question: Is South Korea pursuing reconciliation or merely indulging in an unrequited romance?
With the simultaneous suspension of long-standing radio and TV broadcasts, public skepticism about the administration's true intentions is growing. This does not mean the public opposes peace. On the contrary, most South Koreans understand the need for engagement.
But many are now asking whether the government is moving too fast, offering too much and asking too little in return. A policy of "watching and waiting" for Pyongyang's response before taking the next step may be wiser than a flurry of unilateral gestures.
Peace on the Korean Peninsula must be built on mutual trust and reciprocity -- not on blind, one-sided affection. It's time to reexamine this approach before goodwill turns into strategic naïveté.