Like South Korea’s progressive presidents before him, Lee Jae Myung is trying to reopen channels for engagement with Pyongyang. Framed through his END policy—Exchange, Normalization, Denuclearization—Lee’s approach revives the progressive tradition of dialogue and reconciliation that eventually leads to a nuclear weapons-free Korean Peninsula. The playbook is familiar—END is a sequenced vision that starts with low-stakes exchanges (humanitarian aid, cultural ties), builds toward normalization (diplomatic recognition, economic integration), and ultimately achieves denuclearization—but the game has gotten harder.

Unlike his progressive predecessors, Lee faces a sharply altered strategic landscape: deeper US-China confrontation; constitutional enshrinement of South Korea as a “hostile state” by the DPRK; Russia and China’s growing strategic backing of Pyongyang, including Beijing’s tacit acceptance of its nuclear arsenal; Pyongyang’s formal rejection of denuclearization; and an American administration that expects more from its Asian allies as it seems to deprioritize North Korea and pivots to other fronts.

Lee’s political resets at home—pursuing accountability for the Yoon-era martial-law attempt, signaling openness to apologize to Pyongyang over past drone incursions, and moving to end leaflet launches—are designed to lower the political temperature around inter-Korean issues. His rhetorical shift from “denuclearization” to the more neutral “nuclear-free Korean Peninsula” serves a similar purpose.

These steps have been accompanied by modest humanitarian openings—including relaxed rules on remittances, limited humanitarian outreach by NGOs, and selective repatriation measures—intended to soften atmospherics and reduce friction before any formal diplomatic overture.

Layered onto this is the unique unpredictability of the second Trump presidency. Trump appears open—perhaps even eager—to revisit leader-level diplomacy with Kim Jong Un. But his approach could be more personalized, less structurally anchored, and potentially less aligned with Seoul’s objectives than the summitry observed during 2018-2019.

At its core, Lee’s END framework is an attempt to revive a familiar progressive playbook in the least permissive environment since the Cold War—one where structural asymmetries, great-power dynamics, and Pyongyang’s hardened nuclear posture may limit it to a risk-management tool rather than a viable pathway toward real progress.

How Earlier Progressives Moved

To understand Lee’s strategy—and its risks—it helps to situate his moves within the lineage of progressive engagement.

Kim Dae-jung (1998–2003). Kim’s Sunshine Policy unfolded during a relatively benign great-power environment. China was emerging but not yet confrontational, Russia was preoccupied with its own post-Soviet recovery and not yet revisionist, and the US under Clinton was supportive of diplomacy. This allowed Kim to nurture engagement by spending nearly two years constructing political conditions, institutional channels, and international support before the 2000 summit materialized.

Roh Moo-hyun (2003–2008). Roh Moo-hyun, Kim’s successor, operated under tighter constraints. His 2007 summit with Kim Jong Il came late in his term, framed within the Six-Party Talks—a multilateral format that included the US, China, Japan, and Russia. The US maintained tight oversight—US policy under George W. Bush emphasized denuclearization first, limiting Roh’s room to cut deals with Pyongyang. Still, Roh pushed for inter-Korean projects like the Kaesong Industrial Complex, emphasizing reconciliation as a path to peace.

Moon Jae-in (2017–2022). Moon capitalized on an unusual convergence: the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics served as a fitting, neutral venue to begin the exchange; Trump was eager to break from US diplomatic tradition and engage directly with Kim Jong Un; North Korea was willing to initiate a long-range missile testing moratorium; and China had not yet entered full strategic confrontation with Washington. This enabled the summit cycle that began in 2018, starting with the Trump-Kim Singapore summit. Moon’s approach aligned with Trump’s deal-making style, creating early momentum that reached working-level talks, but the process was unsuccessful in reaching a deal at the 2019 summit in Hanoi, and shut down after a final working level meeting in October that year.

Lee’s moves early in his administration echo Moon’s proactive push but unfold in a far less permissive context. He is attempting an outreach strategy at a moment when every major structural variable runs against engagement. That does not make END’s early stages impossible—but it does make them qualitatively different from previous attempts by progressive administrations—attempts that even under favorable conditions only partially succeeded.

Stakeholder Motivations

Understanding END’s prospects requires dissecting the incentives of key players.

Seoul. For Lee, END aligns with a clean break from the hardline Yoon era. His pursuit of martial-law accountability, designation of People’s Sovereignty Day, and quiet restructuring of inter-Korean coordination mechanisms, such as changes at the Red Cross leadership level, serve internal politics and signal well to Pyongyang. Externally, Lee aims to position the US as the door-opener to engagement. The logic behind this holds that if Trump is willing to reopen a diplomatic aperture with North Korea, Lee’s role as “pacemaker” and Trump’s role as “peacemaker” can play out.

Washington. President Trump—self-styled as a peacemaker who solves wars and deserves a Nobel Prize—is drawn to symbolic, high-profile, leader-level diplomacy. This makes him receptive to an “historic” breakthrough that appeals to his legacy-building instincts. But Trump is also a negotiator capable of walking away from bad deals—a precedent established in Hanoi. For Lee, this presents both opportunity and danger. Trump may open diplomatic space, but he could also pursue an “historic” victory that sidelines Seoul or reframes the Peninsula in ways that cut against South Korean interests.

Pyongyang. North Korea’s immediate priorities are familiar: sanctions relief, an end to what Pyongyang calls US ‘hostility’—the DPRK’s contemporary stand-in for security guarantees—and de facto nuclear recognition, but the new constitutional and geopolitical context diminishes inter-Korean incentives. Kim Jong Un’s diplomatic bandwidth is increasingly concentrated on Russia and China—and on deepening ties across the broader anti-Western alignment—not Washington. However, the window of diplomacy has not closed entirely. Kim has taken denuclearization off the table but if it seems Washington is willing to drop its “hostile policy,” talks could happen. Even in this context, engagement with Lee would be purely tactical—useful for extracting limited symbolic gains and for probing cracks in the alliance, not for securing the kind of sanctions relief Pyongyang ultimately seeks, and certainly not for yielding on nuclear weapons. Bottom line: Pyongyang’s incentive to engage Seoul—absent US participation—is lower than at any point since the 1990s.

Beijing and Moscow. Both capitals prefer a Korean Peninsula that remains a strategic pressure point on Washington. They will not torpedo engagement outright, but they will work quietly to ensure that any diplomatic track does not constrain Pyongyang in ways that would undermine Chinese or Russian strategic interests — keeping the DPRK aligned and politically useful rather than allowing progress that might strengthen the US–ROK alliance.

Early Steps to Reopen Space

Since his June 2025 inauguration, Lee suspended border loudspeaker broadcasts and urged civic groups to halt high-visibility activities that heighten tension, including leaflet-balloon launches. In July, after receiving official approval of his appointment as new Unification Minister, Chung Dong-young visited the border area of Panmunjom, where he announced that restoring severed inter-Korean dialogue would be the “top priority.” Kim Yo Jong swiftly rejected the overture, stating that no matter the proposal from Seoul, there was “no interest” from Pyongyang. Her rejection was contained in a statement entitled “Inter-Korean Relations Have Left Behind the Era of Kinship,” which also dismissed rumors of Kim Jong Un attending the APEC summit in Gyeongju as “ridiculous delusion.”

Even after these snubs, President Lee persisted, deploying Chung Dong-young to strategically message possibilities to Pyongyang. For his part, Chung, who had previously served as Roh Moo-hyun’s Unification Minister in 2004-2005, announced he would recommend that President Lee consider adjusting the upcoming Ulchi Freedom Shield exercise to create conditions for dialogue. This established Chung as a “forward scout,” floating sensitive or controversial ideas in public without attribution to Lee—a role previously played by Moon Chung-in during the Moon Jae-in administration.

In September, Chung argued in favor of accepting South and North Korea as “two states” under international law, with critics warning that his words risked an endorsement of Pyongyang’s “hostile two-state theory.” In November, Chung doubled down on his advocacy of adjusting combined military exercises, saying a scale-back was “inevitable” if a US-DPRK summit were to take place in the first half of 2026. More recently, Chung attributed the “nature of the Korean Peninsula problem” as being rooted in a “bureaucratic mindset that waits for U.S. approval and authorization” and pushed for legislation that would let the government approve access to the DMZ without seeking authorization from the United Nations Command.

Lee has continued shaping a posture toward Pyongyang for inter-Korean engagement built on signals—assuring Pyongyang Seoul has no intention of pursuing “unification by absorption”—institutional adjustments, and micro-openings that could scale if conditions improve.

Alliance calibration. While Chung sticks his neck out trial ballooning ideas, Lee is taking care to signal that his emerging END framework is meant to complement Washington’s deterrence approach, assuring Trump aides that Seoul’s outreach does not undercut alliance cohesion. Collectively, these moves are designed to thaw inter-Korean relations incrementally as a way to lead to dialogue while preventing Washington from perceiving END as a deviation—or worse, an attempt to free-ride on the alliance while cutting a separate deal antithetical to deterrence.

Taken together, these steps form a coherent posture: restore political credibility at home, rebuild technical channels, lower rhetorical friction with the North, and keep Washington reassured. These steps position Lee to attempt the kind of atmospheric easing he associates with his “pacemaker” role—though how far that can go remains uncertain in the current environment.

Risk and Opportunity

Despite these efforts, END carries real risks for Seoul.

Sidelining risk. If Washington and Pyongyang reenter direct talks—especially at the Trump-Kim summit level—Seoul could again find its agenda overshadowed, this time holding even less leverage amid Pyongyang’s hardened position. A fast-moving US–DPRK track could spin out of control, resulting in a declaration or agreement that unfavorably reshapes alliance dynamics vis-à-vis Seoul’s own priorities.

Asymmetry risk. North Korea is well practiced at pocketing concessions without offering meaningful reciprocity. Exchanges and humanitarian gestures from Seoul can reduce tension at the margins, but Pyongyang no longer shows interest in them—limiting their utility and risking a dynamic in which Seoul offers concessions without meaningful reciprocity.

Great-power risk. Great-power dynamics amplify threats: Beijing and Moscow are positioned to quietly undercut progress by diluting sanctions further and shaping diplomatic narratives in ways that favor Pyongyang.

Domestic political risk. If engagement stalls, Seoul is entirely sidelined, or talks are perceived as entirely one-sided, Lee will own the failure, eroding support for continued engagement.

Conceptual risk. Conceptually, Lee’s move toward the phrase “peninsula without nuclear weapons” reduces rhetorical resistance, but it does not bridge the gap between a South that is becoming more integrated into US nuclear planning—through frameworks like Conventional Nuclear Integration—and a North that has constitutionally defined the South as an enemy and anchored its legitimacy in nuclear status. It also introduces contradictions for Seoul, given the ROK’s own nuclear-latency debate and its growing identification with a “nuclear alliance” posture.

Although, even under these conditions, END could still lead to exchanges, manage exposure, and buy time.

For Lee, a revived diplomatic track bolsters his diplomatic legitimacy as a “pacemaker” and opens the possibility of “peaceful” strategic stabilization—even if it carries the risks identified above. Trump, as “peacemaker,” is positioned to extend stabilization into something more. The convergence of these two incentives—Trump’s desire for a legacy-defining “peacemaker” moment and Lee’s desire to rebuild inter-Korean space as a “pacemaker”—creates the first real opening for diplomacy since 2019. But openings are not outcomes.

Peace Agreement—Promise or Strategic Trap?

Progressive South Korean governments have long viewed a peace regime as a necessary, cornerstone step in any serious inter-Korean settlement. The logic runs: formally end the Korean War, reduce the legal and symbolic basis for hostility, normalize relations, and create conditions in which denuclearization can be addressed without existential fear on either side. From Lee’s perspective, a peace declaration—even one reached mainly between Washington and Pyongyang—could be framed as part of END’s normalization phase. But under current structural conditions, it risks becoming normalization on North Korea’s terms.

Conclusion

Lee Jae-myung is deploying a familiar, time-tested progressive playbook under the most adverse structural conditions any South Korean progressive government has faced. END has value as a stability-management tool that keeps open the idea—even the aspirational possibility—of normalization and a future nuclear settlement.

Yet it may also mark the point at which the old engagement playbook reaches its limits. Whether END becomes a last, serious attempt to structure inter-Korean diplomacy, or the moment when the logic of that playbook finally stops working, will depend less on Lee’s intent than on how far the strategic environment continues to drift away from the assumptions that once made engagement viable. In this harder game, Lee’s vision demands not just optimism, but unprecedented diplomatic agility to avoid a dead end.