Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

Shin Bok-ryong

The author is a former emeritus professor of history at Konkuk University.

Since Korea opened its ports in the late nineteenth century, Western missionaries, scholars and explorers who visited the peninsula often portrayed the country as having a barbaric society, particularly due to the mistreatment of women. But Western societies themselves were hardly egalitarian toward women. In the Bible, women were not counted in population figures and were barred from participating in church worship. Until the nineteenth century, they also lacked the right to vote.

Against this backdrop, Emily Davison (1872-1913) in Britain emerged as a leading activist for women's suffrage. A graduate of Oxford University's English department, she joined the Women's Social and Political Union. She took part in militant protests, including throwing stones at officials' homes and setting fire to postboxes. Her actions led to imprisonment. While in jail, she attempted voluntary death through starvation but survived after being force-fed 49 times.

On June 4, 1913, Davison entered the Epsom Derby, one of Britain's most prestigious horse racing events. Anmer, the horse owned by King George V, was one of the competitors. During the final lap of the race, Davison ran toward the king's horse while holding a suffragette flag. She grabbed the stirrup and was dragged before being struck and fatally injured by the horse.

The government reported that she had mistakenly believed the race had ended and was attempting to cross the track when the accident occurred. That explanation, however, was widely regarded as untrue.

At her funeral on June 14, held after she succumbed to injuries sustained at the Epsom Derby and died on June 8, about 5,000 mourners gathered to pay their respects. The following year, World War I broke out. Seeking to prevent domestic unrest, Britain released imprisoned suffragettes. In 1918, the government granted limited voting rights to women with property. The episode served as a reminder that political rights are rarely given freely, and that Western societies did not necessarily respect women's rights as readily as later narratives might suggest.

Many times throughout history, events have carried decisive significance. Today, as the nation faces questions about the direction of its next century, public attention in Korea often centers on the National Assembly. Some argue that while the country ranks around 12th globally in national power, its politics remain backward. Such claims, however, may be overly simplistic. The level of a country's lawmakers inevitably reflects the level of its citizens. The same observation applies to female lawmakers.

As March 8, International Women's Day, approaches, Davison's story comes to mind once again.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

The author is the CEO of the publishing house Geulhangari.

Around 2010, a few years after I became an editor, a notable shift began to take shape in publishing. Some large publishing houses started assigning editors only to planning, while removing them from the editing process itself. An editor's job consists of both planning and editing, yet most of the time is spent refining manuscripts. A proposal cannot be written according to a fixed template, nor does it simply emerge from trend reports. Recruiting authors is important, but a book's quality ultimately depends on editing.

Carefully adjusting the nuances of words and sentences, filling gaps in logic, reorganizing ideas to support an intellectual structure, smoothing rough passages and exercising restraint are skills that form the foundation for discovering the next author. Yet, the devaluation of editing often begins within the industry itself. A culture emerged that treated editing as inexpensive labor, and a decline in quality was regarded as unremarkable. Many editors have produced books without ever feeling like craftsmen.

Even before artificial intelligence heightened skepticism toward writing and translation, editors were already being pushed to redefine their roles in ways that led them to doubt their own work. One refrain was that editors should adopt the mindset of marketers. Time once spent comparing translations with original texts was diverted to social media promotion and digital content. Errors and typos were tolerated. The buzzword "cost-effectiveness" spread without scrutiny. If editors of an earlier era were expected to be as sharp as needles, today they are urged to become blunt knives. As practical books dominate the market, those aspiring to edit humanities titles find themselves in a climate where the sense of what is good and worthwhile has little space to grow.

More recently, as meeting readers has gained importance, the editor's role has expanded toward curation. A few days ago, I asked AI how the role of editors should change. The answer was simple: leave proofreading and press releases to AI and focus on curation. Yet, without mobilizing one's intellect and emotions to attend to textual details, an editor can scarcely feel a sense of purpose. The sensitivity to beauty risks erosion.

The meaning of work has been diminished for years. Doing less and outsourcing more has been portrayed as a way to concentrate on more dignified tasks. But there is no life without process. Without engaging directly in the work, neither experience nor self-respect accumulates. If editors limit themselves to adjusting AI-generated outputs, especially in writing, they may feel they have never truly lived through the act of creation.

How should we respond to AI? The idea that "what you do yourself becomes yours" does not refer only to personal satisfaction. It concerns the embodiment of knowledge and everyday sensibility. Editing sentences is an intense interaction with text. Through it, an editor absorbs the author's thinking, senses the language of the era and gains discernment. Without directly handling the tools of thought, editors cannot cultivate self-correction or self-criticism. Planning ability is a flower that blooms atop the sediment of thousands of revised sentences. The danger lies not in inefficiency but in the evaporation of direct experience.

Will such painstaking labor retain market value as AI surpasses human precision? In some sectors, insistence on manual work will be seen as unnecessary cost. In others, the visible traces of human refinement will guarantee quality. Many readers still seek narratives shaped by discernment. As Richard Sennett once wrote, "People can learn about themselves through the things they make." In a moment of disorientation, I choose to read more and read more carefully, determined to make the book an object with greater integrity, even amid doubt and dismissal.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated ...

The author is an adviser at Optus Asset Management.

Stories circulate about older couples who enroll in Korea's home equity pension program only to cancel the contract days later after returning with their children. Some observers say parents hesitate because they worry about their children's reactions. But human motivations are rarely so simple. While parents may be mindful of their children's opinions, they can also have strategic reasons of their own for preserving assets.

For older homeowners, a house plays two major roles in retirement. It can generate income through a home equity pension, or it can remain an inheritance for children. Yet parents who receive pension income and parents who retain a valuable house for inheritance may experience different treatment from their children.

A lifetime pension provides income only while the subscriber is alive. Once the subscriber dies, payments end and generally leave nothing for children. For instance, under the national pension system, survivor benefits are paid to a spouse after the subscriber's death. If there is no spouse, children under age 25 may receive the benefit. While pensions raise parents' income during their lifetime, they do not typically become a direct source of income for children.

Home equity pensions operate in a similar way. When parents enroll, they receive monthly payments using their home as collateral. After the parents die, the house is sold to repay the accumulated debt. If the parents live longer than expected or housing prices decline, little may remain as an inheritance.

By contrast, parents who keep their home without joining the program preserve the property as an inheritable asset. Inheritance itself often carries strategic implications within families.

The mere existence of a potential inheritance can influence children's behavior. Some children may visit their parents more frequently or pay closer attention to their wishes when they know valuable assets will eventually be distributed. In this sense, inheritance can function as a form of compensation for care. It is not uncommon, for example, for children who live with and care for their parents to receive a larger share of family assets.

Inheritance can also influence other aspects of family relationships. Parents may see grandchildren more often if children bring them to visit regularly. Families may dine out together more frequently. In some cases, parents may even influence decisions about careers or marriage. When there are multiple children, the possibilities for strategic use of inheritance can expand further.

For this reason the relatively low participation rate in home equity pensions cannot be explained simply by parental concern about children's reactions. Some parents also prefer to maintain inheritance assets because they believe those assets give them influence over their children's behavior.

Ultimately, there is no single correct choice between a home equity pension and inheritance. The decision depends on individual preferences and circumstances. Parents must weigh the benefits and costs of each option.

Keeping a home as inheritance may provide a sense of control over children's behavior, but it also means lower retirement income. Choosing a home equity pension increases income during old age but weakens that influence over children.

Strategic considerations are not the only motivation for leaving assets to children. Many parents simply gain satisfaction from the act itself. They may feel that passing something on to the next generation is part of fulfilling their role as parents. In such cases, inheritance is less about control and more about tradition or psychological fulfillment.

Before choosing between pension income and inheritance, however, one important step should come first: independence from one's children.

Parents should free themselves from expectations that children will frequently visit, adjust their behavior or provide care in return for future inheritance. M...

The author is the head of the editorial board at the JoongAng Ilbo.

"Already?"

That was the reaction when the Supreme Court announced on April 29 last year, during the presidential campaign, that it would deliver its final ruling on Democratic Party (DP) leader Lee Jae Myung's election law violation case two days later, on May 1, 2025.

The speed was striking. Only 34 days had passed since the case reached the Supreme Court after an acquittal in the High Court. Just nine days had elapsed since the case was referred to the full bench. It was difficult not to view the proceedings as unusually fast.

One thought crossed my mind immediately: Perhaps the court intended to confirm Lee's innocence before the presidential election. Doing so would also clarify in advance a constitutional debate over Article 84, which grants the president immunity from criminal prosecution during a term in office. Some wondered whether that immunity might extend to ongoing trials. Many observers interpreted the timing in that light.

DP lawmakers publicly remained calm but privately welcomed the prospect. One lawmaker I met at the time said the final obstacle to Lee's presidential path had been removed.

The outcome, however, surprised many.

A reporter's phone call prompted a startled reaction from the newsroom desk: "What did you say?" Instead of confirming the acquittal, the Supreme Court overturned the lower court ruling and sent the case back for retrial with the intent of finding Lee guilty.

Only then did the DP begin criticizing the speed of the ruling. The issue here is not whether the judgment itself was correct. Rather it is the speed with which the party shifted its stance and framed the rapid ruling as evidence of collusion with insurrectionist forces.

Some lawmakers even argued that it would have been physically impossible for justices to read the case records in such a short time. They suggested checking computer logs to confirm whether the records had actually been accessed. If anyone had raised concerns about insufficient time for deliberation when the ruling was first announced, I would have respected that person greatly.

Public trust in the judiciary has declined compared to the past, an uncomfortable but undeniable reality. The greatest source of distrust lies in the perception that sentences can vary depending on the court and that verdicts themselves sometimes differ. The pattern seems especially pronounced in high-profile cases involving political figures.

Ironically, the overflow of judicial conscience may be one reason for this mistrust. Judges are expected to rule according to law and conscience, a principle widely accepted. Yet conscience is shaped by individual experience, values, religion and political beliefs. Unlike written law, which exists as an objective text, conscience lies within a person's private moral sphere.

When conscience outweighs law, judicial interpretations can diverge widely. In a deeply polarized society like Korea, a judge's conscience can easily be interpreted as political conviction, turning verdicts into new sources of social conflict. Many constitutional scholars argue that judges should exercise restraint when invoking personal conscience in legal interpretation. Such views appear in works such as Kim Chul-soo's "New Theory of Constitutional Law" (1999) and Chung Jong-sup's "Principles of Constitutional Law" (2003).

Why then does Article 103 of the Constitution mention conscience? The clause states that judges shall rule independently according to law and conscience. The key lies in the placement of "conscience" alongside "independence." The intention is to emphasize that judges must decide cases free from external pressure, relying on their own judgment.

This is precisely where concerns arise over the proposed crime of judicial distortion. If judges face the possibility of punishment for incorrect rulings, expecting every judge to remain steadfast would require a society of saints.

Determining whet...

The government has announced plans to overhaul immigration policy to actively encourage foreign workers who can support domestic industry. The shift was outlined in the Ministry of Justice's "2030 Immigration Policy Future Strategy," released earlier this week.

Justice minister Jung Sung-ho explained the reasoning during a press briefing. "Many industrial sites in Korea cannot operate without foreign workers. The situation is even more serious in manufacturing," he said.

With the country facing a shrinking workforce due to low birthrates and a rapidly aging population, relying on foreign labor is no longer a choice but a necessity. The challenge now is to expand immigration while minimizing social conflict and discrimination.

One positive change in the new strategy is the plan to allow greater flexibility in the foreign worker employment permit system based on regional conditions.

Currently, even small business owners suffering from labor shortages must prove that they have hired Korean workers for at least three months before they are allowed to employ foreigners. In regions experiencing population decline, however, many small businesses struggle to hire workers at all, regardless of nationality.

Under the new policy, the government plans to introduce a special provision allowing small businesses in depopulating regions to hire foreign workers even if they do not have a record of employing Korean workers. The measure is intended to support local economic vitality.

Another proposal is the creation of a "K-Core Visa." This visa would target foreign students who graduate from Korean junior colleges in manufacturing-related fields and take jobs at local industrial companies.

Expanding residency status alone, however, will not be enough. Policies must also ensure that immigrants can settle stably within local communities.

Korea needs to move beyond viewing foreigners simply as labor and begin to see them as members of the broader community. As the country's demographic decline accelerates, the need for foreign workers will only grow.

At the same time, immigration policy should not focus solely on filling immediate labor shortages. The government has a clear responsibility to ensure that foreign immigrants are protected from social discrimination and unfair treatment through legal and institutional measures.

One possible step would be to consider establishing an independent immigration agency, similar to Japan's Immigration Services Agency, dedicated to managing immigration policy.

Above all, public awareness must evolve so that immigrants are seen not merely as workers but as neighbors who live alongside Korean citizens.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

This article is by Kim Ji-ye and read by an artificial voice.

Actor Yerin Ha, the leading lady of Netflix's "Bridgerton" (2020-) Season 4, spoke out about recent online allegations of racism by Spanish media, saying that she did not personally experience discrimination. The Korean-Australian actor, however, expressed hope that the controversy could serve as a moment for a "learning curve" rather than an opportunity to be hateful.

"What's really interesting is that I never [took an] attack or racist remark toward me personally," Ha said during a news conference held in central Seoul on Wednesday.

"I do think there were specific details that may have been overlooked, and I don't think it was by intention or by conscious choice, so I never felt it personally. But, looking back and seeing the comments, I can possibly understand why people might think that way."

The controversy arose online after the Spanish promotional tour in February, when fans expressed discomfort with how the Spanish media treated Ha, including some photos, posted by Netflix Spain, of her at the far edge of a group shot with co-stars Luke Thompson and Hannah Dodd, despite her being the lead, and her name was misspelled as "Yern Ha." Some fans called it "intentional disrespect."

Ha acknowledged how the situation could be perceived but urged a more constructive response.

"It could be a learning curve for different outlets to potentially pay more attention because I think it is important to respect the leads, but also it is just about [...] that specificity and that attention to detail that can be overlooked at times. It is something that I've had to work on a lot in my career personally. I just think we can all learn from the situation rather than condemning or going the route of hatred."

The Sydney-born 28-year-old plays Sophie Baek in the latest installment of Netflix's "Bridgerton," a maid who falls in love with Benedict Bridgerton, the free-spirited second son of the Bridgerton house, portrayed by Thompson. Now streaming on Netflix, based on Julia Quinn's novel, the fourth season follows the love story of Benedict and Sophie, whose love is hindered by their social class difference.

The casting of a Korean actor in a lead role also sparked interest in Korea, as audiences were eager to see Asian representation in a widely popular series. Ha showed strong determination, as well as vulnerability, noting that she often grapples with impostor syndrome.

"I do feel like sometimes I've gotten here because of luck," she said, adding that she does notice some changes in Hollywood regarding Asian inclusivity.

"There are days when I wonder when my luck will run out, but the fact that I'm here and I do feel like there is responsibility — I take that [...] very seriously. There is still [...] progress to be had in Hollywood in terms of Asian representation, and I am more than happy to be at the forefront of it and to keep pushing for change, even if it's uncomfortable, to create space and opportunities for the people that are to come."

The show is known for its intimate scenes, which Ha shared gave her a great amount of pressure to perform. Part of her concern came from the media's scrutiny of the female body, and some was from her upbringing in Korea, where beauty standards are considered high.

"Everyone feels like they have the right to talk about female bodies in spaces and in projects, and it's always judged and always picked apart," said Ha.

"I was initially very scared about doing nudity scenes more because of that, and also because of my training in Korea. I think the beauty standards here are very different from the Western standards as well. Growing up and doing my final teenage years in Korea, I think, informed a very specific mindset of how I view myself and my body."

However, she said she was able to comfortably shoot such scenes with the help of her intimacy coordinator, Lizzy Talbot, who created a safe space for her.

Her grandmother, Son Suk, is also a ...

This article is by Moon Hee-chul and read by an artificial voice.

A majority of Seoul's residents support the introduction of a 4.5-day workweek, according to the results of a city survey released on Wednesday.

The report also found that around 40 percent of respondents currently feel too busy with work to enjoy leisure activities.

The Seoul Metropolitan Government's 2025 Seoul Survey, published on Wednesday, is an annual statistical survey that has been conducted since 2003 to monitor residents' quality of life, values and social perceptions to help guide city administration.

According to the survey, Seoul residents' satisfaction with their leisure life fell to 5.67 points last year from 5.81 points in 2024. Among those dissatisfied with their leisure life, the most common reason cited was "lack of time," chosen by 39.2 percent of respondents.

This trend was particularly noticeable among people in their 30s and 40s, those with college degrees and white-collar workers.

The share of respondents who said they had a good work-life balance fell from 37.8 percent to 29.9 percent over the same period. Meanwhile, the share who said they were focusing more on work increased from 33.8 percent to 43.4 percent — a rise of nearly 10 percentage points.

The city government said the results suggest that more Seoul residents are feeling overwhelmed by work.

Long working hours have also influenced attitudes toward working-hour policies. A majority of respondents, 54.5 percent, said they support the introduction of a 4.5-day workweek, which was 5.5 percentage points higher than the 49-percent share that supported a four-day workweek.

The most expected benefit of the 4.5-day workweek was "more time for leisure and hobbies," cited by 60.8 percent of respondents.

By age group, people in their 30s showed the strongest support for the system at 71.9 percent, followed by those in their 20s at 66.9 percent and those in their 40s at 63.2 percent. In contrast, only 33.9 percent of respondents aged 60 or older supported the policy.

The number of residents with experience using AI services has also increased. A total of 86.3 percent of Seoul residents said they had used AI services. Even among those aged 60 or older, 68.7 percent said they had experience using such services, an indication that AI is spreading across all age groups, the city said.

Among AI services, conversational AI was the most commonly used, cited by 60 percent of respondents. AI translation services and automated recommendations for content and products followed at 48.2 percent and 45 percent, respectively.

The survey also examined residents' perceptions of housing in old age. When asked where they would prefer to live in retirement if they remain healthy, 43.3 percent said they would like to continue living in their current homes. Even if their health deteriorated, the largest share — 30.9 percent — said they still preferred their current residence.

The survey found that 87 percent of respondents said they were preparing financially for retirement, roughly nine out of 10 residents. The most common methods were public pensions at 71.4 percent, bank savings at 56.2 percent and insurance at 40.5 percent.

The city said the findings show that, amid structural changes as Korea becomes a super-aged society, Seoul residents increasingly see preparing for old age as a present task rather than a distant future concern.

The survey was conducted through in-person interviews with 20,000 households in Seoul, online and household interviews with 5,000 residents and face-to-face interviews with 2,500 foreign residents.

Kang Ok-hyeon, director general of the Seoul Metropolitan Government's digital city bureau, said the survey helped identify residents' views on structural changes such as labor issues, digital transformation and a super-aged society.

"We will reflect these changes in public perception in the policy design process to ensure city administration provides practical help to residents,...

This article is by Woo Ji-won and read by an artificial voice.

The moment that BTS fans have been waiting for has arrived. The track list for the group's upcoming album "Arirang" was released on Wednesday.

Many of the 14 songs reflect on how the seven members have experienced life's ups and downs.

This naturally raises the question: Why did BTS name the album "Arirang"? How does that name encompass the band's journey?

As a centuries-old Korean folk song, "Arirang" is recognized by most Koreans, regardless of factors such as age or place of residence. Play it spontaneously in front of a crowd, and people will undoubtedly hum or sing along to the melody.

But BTS's decision to name its fifth album "Arirang" may refer to something deeper than the song's familiarity alone.

The Korea JoongAng Daily examines how the folk song may reflect the group's efforts to reconnect with its roots and reassess its identity.

What is "Arirang" ?

Often referred to as Korea's unofficial national anthem, "Arirang" is a collection of time-honored folk songs that share the refrain "Ari" or "Arirang."

Believed to date back to at least the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), the song's original composer remains unknown, as does the precise etymology behind the word "arirang." However, it is commonly interpreted as referring to a "beloved one," as the character "ari" historically means "beautiful," and "rang" is often defined as "dear."

Over time, numerous theories have emerged to explain the origin of the song title. Of roughly 30 proposed interpretations, historians most frequently cite three.

The first, known as the Arang theory, links the song to the legend of Arang, the daughter of a magistrate in Miryang, South Gyeongsang, who was killed after refusing the advances of a clerk during the reign of King Myeongjong (r. 1545-67). People called out her name in grief, and "Arang" eventually evolved into "Arirang."

The Alyeong theory traces the word to Lady Alyeong, the wife of Silla's founder Park Hyeokgeose (69 B.C. to A.D. 4). According to this account, the king often praised his queen by singing her name, which gradually transformed into "Arirang."

The third theory associates the song with the construction of Gyeongbok Palace and suggests that the phrase used by laborers to protest taxes phonetically evolved into "Arirang."

Whatever its true origin, "Arirang" became more mainstream in 1896 when U.S. missionary Homer Hulbert transcribed its melody in the journal The Korean Repository, in which he compared the song's importance to Koreans to that of rice.

The "Arirang" most familiar to locals today is from Na Woon-gyu's 1926 film "Arirang." Set in the aftermath of the March 1 Independence Movement, the movie features a scene in which the melody plays as a worker is dragged away by Japanese police — cementing Arirang's association with both sorrow and resistance.

Today, the song — and the word itself — lends its name to a range of national projects and cultural initiatives, such as Korea's multipurpose satellite Arirang. "Arirang" is regularly performed at regional festivals and state-led cultural events abroad. The Seoul Arirang Festival, for instance, has taken place annually since 2013, after the song was listed as an Unesco Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. The festival comprises "Arirang" singing contests, parades and other activities.

A melting pot of emotions

During BTS's live broadcast, in which the seven members discussed the upcoming album, RM said that the group wanted the album to "embrace the full spectrum of emotions that [it] has experienced" over its career.

His comment aligns with BigHit Music's recent press release, which offers a short description of each track.

For example, "Merry Go Round" reflects on enduring the endless cycles of life; "Normal" explores their emotions both on and off the stage; "Like Animals" expresses their determination to live passionately; and "2.0" symbolizes them stepping into the newest chapter of their...

This article is by Seo Ji-eun and read by an artificial voice.

[NEWS ANALYSIS]

The U.S.-Israel strikes on Iran on Saturday that killed the Iranian supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, following the capture of Venezuela's President Nicolas Maduro just two months earlier, posed a blunt question to Pyongyang: If leaders can be removed elsewhere, is the North Korean leadership next?

The "Epic Fury" military operation in the Middle East was particularly jarring because it was executed while U.S. President Donald Trump was ostensibly engaged in nuclear negotiations with Tehran. The sudden pivot to a regime-change strategy suggests that, for the current U.S. administration, diplomatic engagement may simply be a precursor to kinetic intervention.

For North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, the lesson is clear: Conventional deterrence has its limits, and the danger of a high-tech decapitation operation is no longer theoretical.

Analysts in Seoul and beyond, however, stress that North Korea presents a different set of variables — deterrence, proximity and great-power politics — the kind that shape risk calculations in ways Iran and Venezuela did not.

Why North Korea is not Iran

Unlike Tehran, which was targeted to prevent the completion of a nuclear arsenal, Pyongyang is already a de facto nuclear power.

Estimates from the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute suggest that the North has assembled approximately 50 warheads and possesses enough fissile material for at least 40 more.

The strategic reality is that while attacking a nonnuclear state carries high costs, attacking a nuclear-armed state like North Korea invites the risk of catastrophic global escalation.

The unique geography of the Korean Peninsula also serves as a natural deterrent.

While Iran possesses a formidable missile arsenal capable of striking regional capitals and U.S. bases around the Gulf, the Korean Peninsula is a far more compressed battlespace. Seoul sits roughly 50 kilometers (31 miles) from the border and remains within range of North Korea's long-range artillery, while Japan hosts a sizable number of U.S. forces — and in that sense, any military operation against Kim would inevitably risk the lives of millions in Seoul and Tokyo.

"When [U.S.] President Bill Clinton was thinking about a strategic strike against the North Korea facility in 1994, President Kim Young-sam opposed to that idea," Ellen Kim, director of academic affairs at the Korea Economic Institute of America, said, adding that there was "an assessment within the U.S. military" that such a scenario could produce massive Korean casualties.

Today, with the added variables of Russian and Chinese military backing for Pyongyang, the risks associated with a U.S. strike have grown exponentially, creating a shield of great power complication that was absent in the Iranian case.

In the immediate wake of the Iran strike, North Korea's reaction has been controlled defiance and hypervigilance.

North Korea's Ministry of Foreign Affairs released a statement on Sunday, accusing the United States of an "illegal act of aggression" and an "assault on sovereignty," echoing a similar statement from June 2025 after U.S. strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities.

However, there has been a notable blackout on the topic following the initial response from the ministry, suggesting that Pyongyang is in a period of intense internal monitoring.

The technical decapitation operation showcased in Tehran, which utilized AI models to track a leader's specific movements, may have reinforced Kim's belief that the United States is fundamentally committed to regime change.

Some observers viewed the recent public appearance of Kim and his daughter, known as Ju-ae, firing a sniper rifle as a performative "struggle for survival."

To counter this, North Korea has codified a fail-deadly posture in its 2022 nuclear force law.

The law states that if the nuclear command-and-control system is placed in danger by an attack, "a nuclear ...

This article is by Cho Jung-woo and read by an artificial voice.

Seagulls have recently been spotted along stretches of the Han River in Seoul, raising questions for visitors more accustomed to seeing the birds along the coast.

Near the Hangang Bus pier in Yeouido, western Seoul, flocks of more than a dozen gulls were seen circling low over the river, gathering around people resting along the waterfront on Friday. Some visitors fed the birds shrimp-flavored crackers — a snack commonly given to seagulls at Korea's seaside — prompting the birds to swoop down so close that passersby instinctively ducked.

Their sharp cries echoed across the river as temperatures in Seoul that day climbed to nearly 15 degrees Celsius (59 degrees Fahrenheit), according to the Korea Meteorological Administration.

The sight stood out along the heavily urban stretch of the Han River, where visitors sipped coffee at chain cafes like Starbucks, stopped by convenience stores at the Hangang Bus pier and gathered nearby for fried chicken and beer at the adjacent Seoul Cruise pier.

The sightings have prompted curiosity and confusion online. On Threads, a user recently posted photos of seagulls floating beneath the Jamsu Bridge, writing that it was their first time seeing so many gulls on the Han River. Others chimed in with similar questions: Why are seagulls at the river at all? Aren't they supposed to be near the sea?

According to Prof. Choi Chang-yong, who specializes in wildlife ecology at Seoul National University's Department of Forest Sciences, the assumption that seagulls are strictly coastal birds is a common misconception.

"Many gulls do live along the coast," he said, "but some species also breed in inland lakes and freshwater wetlands. It's not accurate to think of them as birds that exist only by the sea."

However, Choi noted that many gulls primarily breed around coastal areas and uninhabited islands. As winter ends, their movement becomes more visible.

"From late February through late March, wintering gulls become much more active as they migrate back to their breeding grounds," he said.

The gulls commonly spotted along the Han River in early spring are black-tailed gulls, a resident seabird species in Korea. These gulls typically appear along the river in March as they migrate, stopping briefly before continuing to breeding sites along the west coast. They spend the winter months farther south.

Often described as heralds of spring along the Han River, black-tailed gulls are easily distinguished by their white heads and bodies, ash gray wings and backs, yellow legs and bills marked with red tips and black bands.

The species has been reportedly documented along the Han River since the early 2000s, typically stopping briefly on its journey from southern wintering grounds to west coast breeding areas.

Prof. Choi added that another species, the Vega gull, is more commonly seen wintering along the river.

"Many of the gulls that overwinter on the Han are Vega gulls," he said. "Black-tailed gulls also appear around this time, but this is a seasonal transition period. Because they are shifting habitats now, their numbers temporarily increase."

Vega gulls are large birds — about 55 to 67 centimeters (22 to 26 inches) long — and are a familiar sight in Korea during winter. They have white bodies, dark gray wings and backs and yellow bills marked with a red spot near the tip.

Data from the National Institute of Biological Resources' migratory bird monitoring system show that gull populations along the Han River have fluctuated sharply over the past decade. Between Seongsan Bridge and Seongsu Bridge, sightings of black-tailed and Vega gulls peaked at 1,889 individuals in January 2014 before dropping to 32 in 2015. This January, 22 were recorded. Similar trends were observed along the Jungnang Stream.

Seoul Metropolitan Government data show that three black-tailed gulls were recorded in 2024, down from 389 in 2023, while Vega gull numbers declined fr...