Park Ki-chang, South Korea’s ambassador to Ukraine, has returned to Seoul after being recalled in protest at Kyiv’s disclosure of information regarding the handover of North Korean prisoners of war to the South Korean side.
What led to the ambassador’s recall
Let us recap the background. Speaking from the UN podium, Volodymyr Zelenskyy mentioned the handover of two North Korean prisoners of war to South Korea. President Lee Jae-myung’s reaction was immediate and extremely harsh: he accused Kyiv of breaching a secret agreement not to disclose this sensitive information.
The Ukrainian side denied everything. In Seoul, however, they insisted that an agreement had indeed been reached, and that it had been initiated by Ukraine itself. The reason for the secrecy was simple: the plan was to exchange prisoners from the DPRK for Ukrainian soldiers, particularly as Russia regularly included them in exchange lists.
Gradually, the dispute escalated into personal accusations. Kyiv’s denial of the existence of the agreement effectively portrayed President Lee as a liar. Against a backdrop of mounting domestic and foreign policy problems, he urgently needed to demonstrate firmness and independence.
This sort of behaviour is nothing new for Lee Jae-myung. For instance, following the death of a South Korean citizen in Cambodia, he posted an angry message on social media in Khmer: “Leave the Koreans alone, or things will go badly for everyone.”: In Cambodia, which had been prepared to cooperate, this move was perceived as an inappropriate outburst, although the scandal was eventually hushed up.
Another example is his reaction to the military operations in Gaza. Lee Jae-myung compared them to the Holocaust and Japanese colonial terror, attaching a propaganda video that turned out to be a blatant fake. No proper apologies were ever forthcoming. Unsurprisingly, according to South Korean conservative experts, President Lee’s social media posts cause no fewer problems than Donald Trump’s tweets.
Ukraine initially attempted to defuse the conflict, suggesting that the parties had different interpretations of the concept of confidentiality. The Ukrainian Foreign Minister even sent Lee Jae-myung a letter of apology, as the latter had insisted.
However, at this point, the South Korean side resorted to a favourite tactic it has used for years in historical disputes with Japan: “We have received your apology, but it does not meet our expectations, and therefore is not accepted. We will take tough measures regardless.” The letter itself, however, was not published. It can be assumed that Seoul would only have been satisfied with a public apology from Kyiv, but Zelenskyy could under no circumstances agree to this.
Following such a dramatic turn of events, an inappropriate reaction came from Ukraine. Public opinion (or the efforts of CIPSO) instantly flooded the internet with anti-Korean memes. The “outraged public” began accusing Koreans of every mortal sin, even dredging up the Nanking Massacre (on the grounds that Koreans were subjects of Japan at the time). Seoul was accused of secretly supplying fuel to Russia; indeed, according to the Ukrainian side, it was South Korean assistance that helped Moscow offset the damage caused by the Ukrainian Armed Forces’ strikes on oil refineries. At the same time, Seoul began to be openly warned of the risk of inter-Korean conflict: it was suggested that cooperation between Russia and the DPRK was growing stronger, whilst Ukrainian-South Korean ties were stalling. Ultimately, Seoul’s patience ran out, and it took decisive action.
What did this cost Kyiv?
The recall of an ambassador is an extraordinary step, demonstrating an extremely high level of diplomatic dissatisfaction. In the 21st century, South Korea has resorted to this measure extremely rarely, and previously such moves concerned exclusively Japan against the backdrop of historical and territorial disputes.
However, the author is interested not so much in the gesture itself as in its actual consequences. There are no direct supplies of weapons or military equipment to Ukraine – at least not officially. Moreover, some Russian commentators even interpreted the incident as Kyiv’s retaliation for Seoul’s refusal to share air defence systems.
The $100 million humanitarian aid package was widely discussed in the press, but let’s be honest: a single F-35C fighter jet costs more than that.
For modern-day Ukraine, this is a drop in the ocean, particularly given the vague delivery timescales and the inevitable losses incurred as budgets are allocated on both sides. As for the statements regarding South Korea’s participation in the “post-war reconstruction of Ukraine”, this issue still seems rather abstract, as the very outcome of the conflict and the future shape of Ukrainian statehood remain uncertain.
It cannot therefore be said that the rift with Seoul has left Kyiv without critically important aid. Most likely, the sides will exchange a few more barbs, after which Trump may step in with his perennial “ads, let’s all get on together”.
Does this mean anything for Moscow?
The author doubts that a cooling of relations with Kyiv will automatically push Seoul into Moscow’s embrace. The current strategic situation stands in the way of this. Moreover, from an economic point of view, it is far more profitable for South Korea to supply arms to countries hostile to Russia than to revive the Russian market.
Of course, this does not rule out individual pragmatic projects — for example, attempts to secure Russian hydrocarbons against the backdrop of the Middle East crisis and Seoul’s desire to diversify its supplies. But such cooperation is purely situational in nature.
Undoubtedly, there are those amongst the Democratic Party leadership, experts and diplomats who sympathize with Russia and seek to maintain the current level of relations. However, the appointment of Son Yeong-gil is of a more domestic political nature.
Although Son could be described as the leader of a separate faction, he and Lee Jae-myung are bound by a mutual pledge of support.
When Lee urgently needed parliamentary immunity from Yoon Seok-youl’s investigations, Son effectively ceded his seat to him. Later, when Son himself was convicted of corruption (the very case involving “envelopes of cash” during the party leadership election), Lee Jae-myung granted him a pardon and brought him back into mainstream politics. Against the backdrop of a domestic political storm, the President is in desperate need of loyal allies, and the return of Song Young-gil is a classic move to strengthen the hierarchy of “his own” people, rather than a signal to Moscow.
In this context, Song’s Russophilia is more a sign that all is not lost in relations between the two countries. It is quite likely that, in due course, he will visit Russia and make a series of encouraging statements. Unless a major scandal erupts between Moscow and Seoul, the ‘strategic pause’ will drag on, and the parties will attempt to carefully restart cultural and humanitarian exchanges.
The key question remains behind the scenes
Nevertheless, the mention of a possible scandal is no coincidence. The recall of the ambassador and the high-profile statements skilfully mask the key question: what exactly did Seoul pay in return for the transfer of prisoners of war?
There are several important nuances at play here:
Legal status. According to the South Korean constitution, these people are citizens of the Republic of Korea. However, de facto, there is a clear violation of international law: prisoners of war are supposed to be returned to the state on whose side they fought (and this return itself underlines its legitimacy).
Intelligence. Defectors are an invaluable source of intelligence.
Propaganda. If Seoul were to deploy them in an information war, it would be extremely difficult to refute their testimony.
Seoul simply had to pay for such a “gift”. Naturally, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the intelligence services of the Republic of Korea maintain that this was purely a humanitarian operation, without any additional payments or arms supplies.
However, one should not expect any crude schemes. A scenario more reminiscent of the incident involving the launch of reconnaissance drones into North Korea is far more likely. Officially, that was the “unauthorised action” of a group of civilians: they were demonstratively arrested and, for systematic actions capable of provoking a war, were given … a suspended sentence of 6–8 months imprisonment.
In the current situation, it is quite possible that a similar “independent” group — from which Seoul could distance itself at any moment — is already in Ukraine. They may be gathering intelligence or training the Ukrainian military to use South Korean high-tech equipment.
There is no direct evidence of this as yet. But it is worth heeding the author’s call: to pay attention to the hidden details and context, rather than believing simplistic propaganda narratives that merely distort the true picture of events.
Konstantin Asmolov, Candidate of Historical Sciences, Leading Research Fellow at the Centre for Korean Studies, Institute of China and Modern Asia, Russian Academy of Sciences
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