Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

Korea's tariff negotiations with the United States have again reached a deadlock. After U.S. President Donald Trump notified Seoul of a renewed 25 percent tariff increase, citing delays in Korean legislation related to U.S.-bound investment, the government has been working to resolve the issue. However, as Washington has pressed for the removal of nontariff barriers, the talks appear to have returned to square one.

The United States has demanded further opening of Korea's agricultural and livestock markets, permission for Google to access high-precision map data and a halt to efforts to advance an online platform fairness law. At the time of last year's agreement, Korea faced the burden of committing $350 billion in investment in the United States. Even so, the deal was seen as relatively favorable, as tariff reductions were secured while additional openings of the sensitive rice and beef markets and the transfer of strategic mapping data were avoided.

As tariff negotiations have been reopened, nontariff barrier issues that Korea finds difficult to accept have returned to the agenda. Concerns are growing that finding common ground with Washington will become more difficult.

A more serious problem is the lack of coordination between the government's trade and diplomatic lines. During a National Assembly session on Deb. 10, Trade, Industry and Energy Minister Kim Jung-kwan said that if the Assembly passes a special law on investment in the United States, the tariff increase is likely to be withdrawn. His remarks suggested that legislative action alone could resolve the dispute.

This contrasted with comments made a day earlier by Foreign Minister Cho Hyun. After a conversation with U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer, Cho said Washington had indicated it would raise tariffs to reduce its trade deficit if there were no progress in negotiations over nontariff barriers. The difference in tone between the two ministers was notable.

Korea has often sought agreements by linking trade and security issues in a single package. Visible differences between the trade and foreign policy teams could undermine such efforts. While negotiation details cannot be disclosed, conflicting public messages risk heightening uncertainty among businesses and industries that would be directly affected by higher tariffs.

Mixed signals may also create misunderstandings for the United States. Even if differences exist during interagency coordination, the government must minimize confusion and respond with a unified approach. It should carefully review policy options to protect national interests and reduce economic impact, while maintaining consistent principles throughout the negotiations.

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.

The upcoming Netflix mystery series "The Art of Sarah" spotlights human ambition. For star Lee Jun-hyuk, the story feels especially timely and all the more compelling in today's climate.

"I think that, at this point in time, a story about a woman like Sarah Kim who simply pursues her ambition is both meaningful and necessary," said Lee during the show's press conference held in Jung District, central Seoul, on Tuesday. "Personally, I find it to be one of the most interesting stories right now. I believe it would resonate with audiences anywhere in the world."

Director Kim Jin-min, who was behind the series "Extracurricular" (2020) and "My Name" (2021), added, "I hope viewers allow themselves to confront and even fully explore their own desires alongside the story."

The cast and director were careful not to reveal spoilers to preserve the show's suspense, but they were eager to speak about making the series.

The show opens with a dead body found frozen in a sewer in Cheongdam-dong, Gangnam District, one of Seoul's wealthiest areas. The victim is later revealed to be Sarah Kim, played by Shin Hae-sun, a mysterious woman whose name is heard everywhere but who cannot seemingly be found anywhere. The show follows Lee's character, detective Park Mu-gyeong as he tackles the case, chasing her trail.

Shin shared that she underwent extensive styling to capture both her character's job as the head of a high-end brand's Asia branch and her mysterious background.

"I think I've tried just about every kind of makeup imaginable," said Shin, thanking her makeup and costume team.

"With Sarah Kim, I really got to try a lot of things, like wearing contact lenses, applying false eyelashes, and normally, I'm the kind of person who feels a bit uncomfortable with so much makeup, but with the wigs, the hairstyles and all the styling, I actually had a lot of fun, looking back on it. It was so satisfying that it even made me think I'd love to do it all over again."

The series also marks Shin and Lee's second collaboration in eight years since the first season of tvN's "Stranger" (2017-20). Having worked together before, the two actors said there was a strong sense of mutual trust, which helped them focus and deliver the emotional depth required for the series.

"Even though it had been a long time since we last worked together, there was this unspoken trust between us that made our scenes click immediately," Shin said. "I realized once again how much those shared moments over time matter."

However, it was not only the actors who trusted one another. Director Kim emphasized that casting was crucial for the series, ensuring that the right actors could thoroughly portray the story's complex mystery and tension. He said that when Shin was cast, he believed his work was "mostly done."

"For an actor, being asked to portray a wide range of emotions and faces is a really demanding task," Kim said. "No matter how much a director asks for different sides of a character, it won't come out unless the actor has the ability to deliver it."

"After meeting Shin, the only thing that came to my mind was 'I trust her.' She focused fully on her fellow actors and believed in herself, and I was amazed by the level of her performance. That energy translated directly onto the screen. I trusted both Shin and Lee, and over time, my trust in them only deepened. I think this project was made possible because they trusted me as much as I trusted them."

Kim also described Lee's role as "the viewers' eyes," adding that his constant questions helped shape the final performance.

"From the very first meeting and throughout the shoot, Lee asked me a lot of insightful questions," the director said.

"Whenever he didn't understand something or wasn't sure how to approach his performance, he asked sharp, precise questions. Usually, if the director doesn't know much about it, the actor usually goes on with it. But Lee would as...

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

Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon said Tuesday that a planned 1950-53 Korean War memorial at Gwanghwamun Square would convey a "healthy and desirable" message to the international community, pushing back against what he alleged was the central government's move to halt the project.

"On one level, the Garden of Gratitude expresses our appreciation to the countries that fought in the war," Oh said at a New Year's press conference at the City Hall in central Seoul. "But what it ultimately symbolizes is freedom and democracy."

Oh, during the press conference, outlined his policy priorities for the year ahead and reflected on his political future as the June mayoral election approaches.

The Garden of Gratitude is a city-led project envisioned as a memorial honoring the allied nations that participated in the Korean War. The plan calls for 22 stone pillars, each about seven meters tall, within the square, representing the 22 countries that took part in the war. Beneath the space, the city intends to renovate the underground space into an exhibition hall featuring immersive media displays showcasing the landscapes of those nations.

"There is no monument that more powerfully highlights Korea's identity as a free nation than one symbolizing the fact that around 40,000 young people from around the world shed their blood to defend freedom and democracy here," Oh said.

Oh emphasized Gwanghwamun Square's symbolic accessibility.

"It is a place people naturally come into contact with," he said, adding that the central government's decision to intervene was "regretful" and an "excessive abuse of power."

"The authority to finalize and announce implementation plans rests with the mayor of Seoul," he said.

On Monday, the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport formally notified the Seoul Metropolitan Government that the project had allegedly skipped required administrative procedures and asked the city to submit a written explanation by Feb. 23 before finalizing a suspension.

Oh accused the government of deciding in advance to stop construction and then tailoring its methods to that goal, adding that ideology had entered what should be an administrative process.

"If the central government exercises this kind of excessive authority over a local government chosen by citizens, Seoul will have no choice but to assert its right to resist," he said.

During his opening remarks, Oh said strengthening Seoul's global competitiveness would be his top priority this year. He reiterated his longstanding goal of elevating the capital into the world's top five global cities.

Seoul ranked sixth in last year's Global Power City Index, released by the Mori Memorial Foundation's Institute for Urban Strategies in Japan, maintaining its previous position. Oh noted that the gap with fifth-ranked Singapore had narrowed.

"With just a little more effort, I am confident this can be the year we reach our original goal of fifth place," he said.

He pointed to other global rankings as evidence of progress. In Kearney's Global Cities Outlook, Seoul rose to second place last year from fifth the year before. Quacquarelli Symonds also named Seoul the world's best city for students in its 2026 rankings, ahead of Tokyo and London.

Asked about whether he would seek another term, Oh said it was too early for an official announcement, noting that he remains the sitting mayor.

"There is no particular reason to rush, especially before the party has even announced its primary schedule," he said, while reiterating his determination to "protect Seoul."

Oh's current four-year term ends in June.

He also addressed criticism of several high-profile initiatives, including the Hangang Bus project and the Dongdaemun Design Plaza (DDP) in central Seoul.

"I sincerely apologize once again for the concern caused by minor accidents and malfunctions early on," Oh said of the Hangang Bus. "But every new project experiences some degree of...

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

Hyosung Heavy Industries has clinched a $540 million contract with an undisclosed major U.S. transmission grid operator to supply ultra-high-voltage transformers and reactors, the company said Tuesday.

The deal, which runs for five years through Jan. 31, 2031, marks the largest single-project contract ever secured by a Korean power equipment manufacturer in the United States.

The equipment will be deployed in the construction of a 765-kilovolt transmission network across the United States, a system critical for transmitting large volumes of electricity over long distances while significantly reducing power losses. Demand for such infrastructure has surged amid the rapid expansion of AI data centers and the growing adoption of EVs.

Hyosung operates a large manufacturing facility in Memphis, Tennessee — formerly owned by Mitsubishi — which it acquired and refurbished through an investment of roughly $300 million. The plant is currently undergoing a capacity expansion scheduled for completion in 2027.

Hyosung supplies nearly half of all 765-kilovolt ultra-high-voltage transformers installed in the United States, maintaining the top market share in the segment.

"As AI and data centers proliferate, power infrastructure has become a core industry directly tied to national security," said Cho Hyun-joon, chairman of Hyosung Group. "Building on our Memphis facility and our ultra-high-voltage technology, we must establish ourselves as an indispensable partner in the U.S. power grid."

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

Actor Shin Sae-kyeong said she was drawn to the strong will for survival embodied in her character — a trait that diverges from her naturally careful and timid disposition — in the upcoming action film "Humint."

"I really enjoy playing strong female characters," said Shin during an interview with reporters at a cafe in central Seoul on Monday. "Because I get scared easily and am innately cautious, I think that there's a part of me that wants to take on such roles."

She described her latest character as possessing "the strongest will to live" among all the roles she's played.

Directed by renowned director Ryoo Seung-wan, who also helmed films such as "Veteran" (2015) and "The Berlin File" (2013), the action spy film revolves around the tension between South Korean intelligence agents and North Korean officials as they investigate a crime near Russia's Vladivostok border. The title, "Humint," is short for "human intelligence" and refers to intelligence gathered through human sources.

The film features a star-studded cast. Shin plays Chae Seon-hwa, a waitress at a North Korean restaurant in Vladivostok who becomes a key source of information. Actor Zo In-sung stars as manager Zo, an agent from South Korea's National Intelligence Service, and Park Jeong-min as North Korean official Park Geon. Park Hae-joon portrays North Korean Consul General Hwang Chi-sung.

Playing a Pyongyang native means that Shin had to master a North Korean dialect — a first in her career. She described the process as particularly challenging because there were "no shortcuts."

"I tend to be [...] intimidated by new challenges, and every project feels like one to me," she said. "Some people may not see this as a big deal, but for me, each role carries a certain weight. And this time, having to use a dialect made [the experience] even more nerve-racking."

To prepare, she consistently trained with a dialect coach, listened to audio recordings of native speakers and reviewed her performance until the accent felt natural. She even incorporated the dialect into a song performed by her character, which she sang herself.

Shin was also initially worried about a grueling waterboarding sequence, in which water is poured over her character's face as a means of torture.

"I'm extremely scared of water," she said. "It isn't easy for me to even put my face into a bowl of water, so when I first received the script, though I found everything about it incredibly compelling, I was also afraid of whether I'd be able to pull that scene off."

"It may seem like a brief sequence, but I felt a lot of pressure to execute it well," she added. "Fortunately, a stunt double was on set to ensure that the shoot was conducted safely, and I was able to film the scene without any issues."

While "Humint" delivers highly intense action, it also weaves in a poignant romance between Seon-hwa and Park Geon. As the story unfolds, Zo and Park Geon risk themselves to protect Seon-hwa, both as an intelligence source and as someone with whom they share a complicated past.

Shin described watching those moments on screen as "heart-fluttering," adding that portraying such an emotionally charged love story will remain a lasting memory.

As most of the film was shot overseas, Shin shared that the cast formed a sense of camaraderie by the end of filming, becoming more like neighbors to one another than colleagues who return to their own individual lives once work is done.

"Promoting the film is still part of our job," she said, "and I'm fully aware of that. But maybe because we spent so much time living and working together, it also feels like I'm seeing people I've missed."

She then confessed, "If I don't see them for a while, I find myself wondering how they're doing."

Now nearly three decades into the entertainment industry, Shin said she has reached a point in which she feels "grateful instead of anxious" about her career.

And though she de...

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

Actor Shin Sae-kyeong said she was drawn to the strong will for survival embodied in her character — a trait that diverges from her naturally careful and timid disposition — in the upcoming action film "Humint."

"I really enjoy playing strong female characters," said Shin during an interview with reporters at a cafe in central Seoul on Monday. "Because I get scared easily and am innately cautious, I think that there's a part of me that wants to take on such roles."

She described her latest character as possessing "the strongest will to live" among all the roles she's played.

Directed by renowned director Ryoo Seung-wan, who also helmed films such as "Veteran" (2015) and "The Berlin File" (2013), the action spy film revolves around the tension between South Korean intelligence agents and North Korean officials as they investigate a crime near Russia's Vladivostok border. The title, "Humint," is short for "human intelligence" and refers to intelligence gathered through human sources.

The film features a star-studded cast. Shin plays Chae Seon-hwa, a waitress at a North Korean restaurant in Vladivostok who becomes a key source of information. Actor Zo In-sung stars as Manager Zo, an agent from South Korea's National Intelligence Service, and Park Jeong-min as North Korean official Park Geon. Park Hae-joon portrays North Korean Consul General Hwang Chi-sung.

Playing a Pyongyang native means that Shin had to master a North Korean dialect — a first in her career. She described the process as particularly challenging because there were "no shortcuts."

"I tend to be [...] intimidated by new challenges, and every project feels like one to me," she said. "Some people may not see this as a big deal, but for me, each role carries a certain weight. And this time, having to use a dialect made [the experience] even more nerve-racking."

To prepare, she consistently trained with a dialect coach, listened to audio recordings of native speakers and reviewed her performance until the accent felt natural. She even incorporated the dialect into a song performed by her character, which she sang herself.

Shin was also initially worried about a grueling waterboarding sequence, in which water is poured over her character's face as a means of torture.

"I'm extremely scared of water," she said. "It isn't easy for me to even put my face into a bowl of water, so when I first received the script, though I found everything about it incredibly compelling, I was also afraid of whether I'd be able to pull that scene off."

"It may seem like a brief sequence, but I felt a lot of pressure to execute it well," she added. "Fortunately, a stunt double was on set to ensure that the shoot was conducted safely, and I was able to film the scene without any issues."

While "Humint" delivers highly intense action, it also weaves in a poignant romance between Seon-hwa and Park Geon. As the story unfolds, Manager Zo and Park Geon risk themselves to protect Seon-hwa, both as an intelligence source and as someone with whom they share a complicated past.

Shin described watching those moments on screen as "heart-fluttering," adding that portraying such an emotionally charged love story will remain a lasting memory.

As most of the film was shot overseas, Shin shared that the cast formed a sense of camaraderie by the end of filming, becoming more like neighbors to one another than colleagues who return to their own individual lives once work is done.

"Promoting the film is still part of our job," she said, "and I'm fully aware of that. But maybe because we spent so much time living and working together, it also feels like I'm seeing people I've missed."

She then confessed, "If I don't see them for a while, I find myself wondering how they're doing."

Now nearly three decades into the entertainment industry, Shin said she has reached a point in which she feels "grateful instead of anxious" about her career.

And thoug...

This article is by Michael Lee and read by an artificial voice.

For 59-year-old North Korean physician and defector Han Hyeon-yeong, the Rodong Sinmun — the official newspaper of Pyongyang's ruling Workers' Party — was a marker of her family's politically privileged status during her childhood.

As a local party official, her father was entitled to regular deliveries of the paper. "That signified that we were of a certain class when I was a young girl," she recalled, adding that she began reading its editorials regularly from the age of five to improve her literacy.

But for ordinary North Koreans, Han said, the Rodong Sinmun was often unavailable — as it was for most South Koreans until recently.

For decades, North Korean publications were classified as "special materials" and " enemy propaganda" under South Korea's National Security Law. As a result, only institutions or individuals who completed formal screening procedures could read the Rodong Sinmun.

That changed in late December, when the South Korean Ministry of Unification announced that physical copies of the Rodong Sinmun would be reclassified as "general material," allowing ordinary citizens to read the paper without prior approval.

The decision followed a policy review and public remarks by President Lee Jae Myung, who criticized restrictions on access as underestimating the public's ability to judge North Korean information independently.

The changes mean that ordinary South Koreans can now read North Korean propaganda without going through the onerous process of obtaining official permission — and see firsthand how Pyongyang tries to shape the worldview of one of the world's most isolated populations.

Arguments for relaxing censorship

Although conservatives in Seoul have warned that loosening access to Pyongyang's propaganda could allow pro-North Korean ideology to permeate South Korean society, experts believe such fears are exaggerated.

Lee Sung-yoon, a principal fellow at the Sejong Institute's Center for Korean Peninsula Strategy, said the policy shift "doesn't change much in practice," citing "widespread apathy toward North Korean affairs" among South Koreans.

The South Korean government still blocks dozens of North Korean websites, including those operated by the Rodong Sinmun and the Korean Central News Agency (KCNA). Lee notes, however, that experts and others who require access for professional purposes have long been able to circumvent such obstacles through virtual private networks.

In its December announcement, the Unification Ministry said it would further seek to ease access to these websites, citing confidence in South Koreans' ability to critically assess such content without censorship.

In the meantime, Seoul's reclassification of the Rodong Sinmun has made casual perusal possible — if still quite restricted.

Physical copies of the paper are available at only about 20 institutions nationwide, including the Information Center of North Korea on the fifth floor of the National Library and the Unification Ministry's own North Korea Resource Center.

According to library staff, the newspapers are imported via third countries and often delayed by customs procedures. The center typically receives one to two weeks' worth of issues at a time, meaning even the most recent copies are usually outdated.

Photography is prohibited, though staff at the National Library say there is little demand among visitors to view the Rodong Sinmun or the four other North Korean publications fixed to dedicated reading desks. "Most readers are researchers," one employee said.

Digital access also remains limited for those seeking more recent editions. Older issues can be viewed through the library's digitized archives, but only up to the end of 2024 and only on computers inside the building.

Under these conditions, this reporter read the Jan. 5 edition of the Rodong Sinmun, the most recent printed version available at the National Library on Feb. 3. Bound to a desk along wi...

Lee Woo Young

The author is an HCMC distinguished professor at the Korea Institute for Advanced Study.

An elderly man in a worn coat and thick horn-rimmed glasses slowly walked to the front of a conference hall. It was a break between sessions, yet no one left their seats. Participants watched in silence, wondering what problem he would present this time.

Approaching a chalkboard in the corner, he wrote down a mathematical problem and added a note beside it: Prize, $25. Attendees hurried to copy the problem. When doing this, his reward would sometimes increase depending on the difficulty. But the money was never the point. Solving one of his problems was itself an honor.

The man was Paul Erdos (1913–1996), an eccentric mathematician from Budapest who became one of the most prolific figures in the history of mathematics. Over his lifetime, he published more than 1,500 papers and collaborated with more than 500 co-authors.

Erdos was a talkative genius, but also disarmingly naive and often awkward in daily life. In the early 1950s, when the United States was gripped by anti-communist investigations, an immigration officer asked his opinion of Karl Marx. "A great man," he replied. He was denied entry.

During screening for participation in the Manhattan Project, the U.S.-led nuclear weapons program, he was also rejected. Officials concluded that his talkative nature made it difficult for him to keep secrets. In hindsight, the outcome suited him. He devoted his life to finding good mathematical problems, sharing them with others and working together to solve them.

Erdos disliked staying in one place. A lifelong itinerant mathematician, he had no permanent home or family and traveled through more than 22 countries. At the age of 83, he died while attending a conference in Warsaw.

His final words left a quiet resonance: "I won't become any more stupid."

Erdos left behind a remarkable body of mathematical work, but perhaps his greatest legacy was something less tangible. By turning even difficult problems into a form of intellectual play, he inspired generations of mathematicians and students. His small prizes, modest in value, carried a deeper message that discovery itself was the true reward.

In the end, the measure of a life may not lie only in individual achievement, but in the curiosity and energy one awakens in others.

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.

Oh Young-hwan

The author is a visiting research fellow at Institute for National Future Strategy, Seoul National University, and a former Consul General in Niigata.

Niigata Prefecture, which faces the East Sea, has long been considered an opposition stronghold in Japan. In single-member lower house districts, opposition and independent candidates defeated the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) by margins of 5–0 in 2024 and 4–2 in both 2021 and 2017. The pattern was striking, given that the region is Japan's largest rice-producing area and the political base of former Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka, a symbol of LDP politics.

That pattern changed dramatically in Sunday's general election, when the LDP reclaimed all five seats. The reversal reflected a broader national trend.

The ruling party swept the Tokyo metropolitan area, including Tokyo and neighboring Kanagawa and Saitama prefectures, and lost only one seat in Chiba. With 316 seats, the LDP secured more than two-thirds of the 465-member House of Representatives. Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi's popularity has reshaped Japan's political landscape.

The election signals the emergence of a period of dominance comparable to former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's long tenure from 2012 to 2020. A stronger security posture, sometimes described as "Abenomics for security" or Abe-style conservatism, is returning in a new form.

Within the LDP, the result marks a shift from the more moderate leadership associated with former prime ministers Fumio Kishida and Shigeru Ishiba toward a more hawkish conservative line. Conservative voters who had drifted away from the party appear to have returned, reinforcing this transition.

The LDP has historically maintained power by reshaping its internal leadership balance. Rising tensions with China, particularly over a potential contingency involving Taiwan, have also heightened voters' national security concerns. Public anxiety in times of uncertainty often favors decisive leadership.

Takaichi's decisive victory is expected to accelerate longstanding goals within the conservative camp. She described the election as a judgment on bold policies that have divided public opinion. The political environment has also shifted with a change in coalition dynamics. The Komeito party, which emphasized a pacifist platform, has been replaced by the more hawkish Japan Innovation Party as a governing partner. Observers say this could reduce internal constraints on security policy.

Several policy changes are now under discussion. One is a review of Japan's Three Non-Nuclear Principles, adopted in 1967, which prohibit the possession, production or introduction of nuclear weapons. Takaichi has already signaled her intention to revise the country's key security documents, including the National Security Strategy. Although these documents are typically updated about once a decade, the proposed revision would come only a few years after the last update.

The most sensitive issue concerns whether to reinterpret the prohibition on the introduction of nuclear weapons. Takaichi has previously raised the need for discussion, while the Japan Innovation Party has advocated nuclear sharing arrangements. Easing restrictions on defense equipment exports is also likely to follow.

Another priority is strengthening intelligence capabilities. Plans are advancing to establish a national intelligence organization under the Prime Minister's Office, alongside the National Security Secretariat. Takaichi has also expressed interest in creating a foreign intelligence agency and strengthening counterespionage legislation. These issues are politically sensitive and likely to generate debate.

Constitutional revision remains a long-term goal, but the ruling camp lacks the two-thirds majority in the upper house required to initiate amendments. The government may instead focus on building public support ahead of the next upper house election in two years. The long-discussed concept of Japan as a "normal...

The author is a professor of political science and international relations at Seoul National University.

Korean politics continues to produce developments that would have been difficult to imagine in the past. One of the most striking recent trends is the intensifying internal conflict within both the People Power Party (PPP) and the Democratic Party (DP), even as June local elections approach.

Traditionally, political parties seek to broaden their appeal and minimize internal disputes ahead of elections to project unity. Instead, both parties appear increasingly divided. Negative public opinion and criticism from potential supporters seem to carry little weight in their internal calculations.

The PPP has moved openly toward factional confrontation. Former leader Han Dong-hoon was expelled, and disciplinary actions have been taken against his supporters. Despite the party's approval rating remaining around 20 percent and local elections drawing near, what critics describe as self-destructive behavior has continued.

In seeming contrast, the DP has outwardly pursued expansion through a merger with the Rebuilding Korea Party. Yet the internal disputes surrounding the move reflect dynamics similar to those within its rival. Although the merger is justified in terms of electoral strategy, its primary purpose appears to be internal power consolidation.

Such developments would once have been rare. Opposition parties seldom allowed internal divisions to deepen before elections, and major ruling-party conflicts early in a presidential term were unusual. The shift reflects a change in how party politics operates.

For party leaders, the priority is no longer improving overall public support but consolidating control. Securing dominance within the party ensures influence over nominations in future legislative elections. As seen in the DP under President Lee Jae Myung's leadership, internal rivals can be removed through nomination decisions, strengthening a leader's position for a presidential bid.

Underlying this strategy is a calculation shaped by political polarization. Even dissatisfied voters may ultimately support their party's candidate to prevent victory by the opposing camp. In this environment, both parties' leadership focuses primarily on mobilizing highly committed supporters who actively influence internal decisions. Moderate supporters and undecided voters have become secondary considerations.

This pattern is possible because political competition is constrained by what resembles a cartel structure. At the national level, Korea appears to have a two-party system. At the regional level, however, many areas function effectively as one-party strongholds. The result is an oligopoly nationally and monopolies locally.

In a competitive market, consumers can switch brands when quality declines. But if only one product is available, they have little choice. Political competition operates similarly. Just as cartels harm consumers, limited political competition reduces accountability to voters. For politicians, party nominations become more important than public approval.

Recent scandals linked to nomination-related corruption illustrate the problem. When nomination effectively guarantees election, incentives for misconduct increase. Without changes to this party structure, politics risks becoming disconnected from voters' concerns.

The current party alignment traces back to the 1990 three-party merger. More than three decades later, Korea remains locked within this political framework despite profound social and economic changes. In contrast, companies such as Samsung Electronics and Apple continue to innovate and develop new technologies because competitors such as Huawei and Xiaomi are constantly challenging their market positions.

Political reform likewise requires the emergence of credible new competitors capable of challenging the existing order. Public sentiment suggests growing fatigue with the current system. In a joint s...