The American threat to South Korea’s conservatives
Within a single term, could we see the foundations of contemporary South Korean conservatism crumble?
At conservative protests in South Korea, it is not uncommon to see demonstrators waving American flags - or even (in)famously dressing up as Captain America. The symbolic act underscores a deep-rooted belief that the United States is an unwavering ally, committed to South Korea, and acting in its interests. The emergence of America First policies and Washington’s growing tendency to prioritize its own strategic interests over those of its allies upends this conviction. Within a single term, could we see the foundations of contemporary South Korean conservatism crumble?
The U.S.-Russia discussions about Ukraine in Saudi Arabia, notably excluding Ukraine itself, raise a disturbing precedent in international diplomacy. If the United States is willing to negotiate the future of a sovereign nation without its direct involvement, one must ask: Could South Korea face a similar fate?
Given Washington’s strategic flexibility and prioritization of its own national interests, it is entirely plausible that the U.S. could soon engage in direct talks with North Korea while sidelining South Korea. Ending North Korea’s Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs) and accepting its mid and short-range nuclear arsenal. Such a scenario would be an existential crisis for South Korean conservatives, whose pro-American stance has been a cornerstone of their political identity since the late 1990s (it’s important to note that South Korea’s conservatives were not always slavishly pro-American. They were, once upon a time, pro-Korean, accepting the U.S. begrudgingly as necessary, but less often fully trusting in U.S. motives).
The notion of a U.S.-North Korea negotiation without South Korea is not far-fetched. It is a deep-seated and very real South Korean concern. The Trump administration’s direct talks with Kim Jong-un in 2018-2019 demonstrated that Washington is willing to break long-standing diplomatic norms when it sees fit. The exclusion of Japan and South Korea from these talks alarmed U.S. allies in the region. While Trump ultimately failed to reach a deal, the precedent was set: the U.S. is capable of bypassing allies if it believes doing so serves its strategic interests.
In the case of Ukraine, the U.S. is moving toward a pragmatic approach that prioritizes a negotiated settlement with Russia over Kyiv’s and Brussels’ objectives. If the same principle is applied to the Korean Peninsula, Washington may one day view direct engagement with Pyongyang as the quickest path to regional stability—even if that comes at Seoul’s expense.
There are several reasons why the U.S. might choose to negotiate with North Korea without South Korea’s direct involvement.
First, Washington's overriding interest in promoting an America First foreign policy could drive it to engage with Pyongyang directly if it sees an opportunity to limit North Korea’s ICBM ambitions. North Korea is not a direct threat to the U.S. but rather only U.S. interests. ICBMs makes it a direct threat. If the U.S. believes that an agreement with Pyongyang could serve the defense of the U.S., it might consider Seoul’s objections a secondary concern.
Additionally, despite the long-standing alliance between the U.S. and South Korea, Washington’s primary regional focus is countering China rather than managing inter-Korean relations. If direct engagement with North Korea could contribute to this broader Indo-Pacific strategy, South Korea’s position might be disregarded. From a purely strategic perspective, a deal with Pyongyang—especially one that imposes constraints on North Korea’s ICBM program—could be more valuable to the U.S. than adhering to Seoul’s preferred approach.
Political considerations within the U.S. also play a role. The unpredictability of American foreign policy means that a future administration, Republican or Democrat, could decide that engaging North Korea directly is the best course of action. The Trump-Kim summits provided a precedent, showing that a U.S. president could pursue diplomacy with Pyongyang in ways that break traditional norms. If such a move is politically advantageous or seen as a legacy-defining opportunity, South Korea’s exclusion might not be a significant deterrent.
Moreover, a divergence in threat perception between Washington and Seoul is increasingly evident. South Korean conservatives view North Korea as an existential threat, while the U.S. sees Pyongyang as a manageable challenge. This fundamental difference means that Washington could prioritize diplomacy with North Korea even if it conflicts with South Korea’s hardline stance.
The assumption that American interests will always align with Seoul’s is proving to be an outdated notion.
While President Yoon Suk-yeol has embraced an overtly pro-U.S. stance, prioritizing Washington’s strategic goals without reservation, former President Park Chung-hee pursued a far more independent foreign policy that prioritized South Korea’s national interests. Park was deeply skeptical of American intentions, particularly regarding security commitments, and sought to develop South Korea’s own nuclear weapons program to reduce reliance on U.S. guarantees. He also negotiated substantial financial compensation from the U.S. in exchange for sending South Korean troops to Vietnam, ensuring economic benefits for his country. Yoon, in contrast, has shown little inclination to demand reciprocity from Washington, instead aligning South Korea closely with U.S. policy objectives even at the risk of alienating other regional actors. This stark contrast highlights how South Korean conservatives have shifted from a pragmatic nationalism under Park to a more deferential and dependency-driven approach under Yoon.
South Korea’s conservative bloc over recent years has relied on unwavering faith in the U.S. alliance as the foundation of its security policy. This time has passed.
If Washington were to engage in direct diplomacy with Pyongyang without Seoul’s involvement, it would shatter these foundational assumptions. The conservative narrative—built on the notion that U.S. interests are permanently aligned with South Korea’s—would be exposed as an illusion. The political consequences would be severe:
Crisis of legitimacy: Conservative leaders would struggle to explain to their base why the U.S. was willing to cut deals with the very regime they have demonized for decades.
Internal fractures: The South Korean right could face internal divisions, with some advocating for a more independent foreign policy and others doubling down on their U.S.-aligned stance.
Rise of alternatives: If conservatives are seen as overly dependent on Washington, centrist or progressive parties advocating for a more autonomous foreign policy could gain traction.
For decades, South Korea’s conservatives have shaped policy around an unspoken assumption: that the U.S. will never act against Seoul’s core interests. This belief has led them to dismiss critics who warn of U.S. strategic flexibility and to ignore signs that Washington is increasingly willing to make decisions based on its own priorities.
Direct U.S.-North Korea negotiation would force a painful reckoning. It would demonstrate that American foreign policy is dictated by national interest, not ideological loyalty or shared sacrifice.
More importantly, it would highlight the fundamental weakness in South Korea’s conservative approach: the failure to develop a foreign policy that does not depend entirely on Washington’s goodwill.
The U.S. meeting with Russia to discuss Ukraine’s future without Ukraine should be a wake-up call for South Korea. If Washington is willing to engage with Moscow at Kyiv’s expense, there is no guarantee it won’t do the same with Pyongyang at Seoul’s expense. South Korean conservatives, who have built their political identity on unwavering faith in the U.S., could soon find themselves abandoned, their worldview shattered, and their influence diminished.
The inevitable consequence would be a radical shift in South Korean conservatism. As faith in the U.S. alliance crumbles, a new brand of conservatism would emerge—one that is more ethno-nationalist, fiercely independent, and determined to pursue an autonomous nuclear deterrent.
South Korean conservatives would likely embrace a more self-reliant defense strategy, including an accelerated push for nuclear armament, much like Park Chung-hee once envisioned. Additionally, the idea of reunification could take on a more elitist and economically motivated character, with certain factions viewing it as an opportunity for consolidation of power and profit (for some) rather than national unity. The era of uncritical pro-Americanism would give way to a pragmatic, self-serving elitist nationalism, fundamentally reshaping the political landscape of South Korea for generations to come.