North Korean leader Kim Jong Un used the Ninth Congress of the ruling Workers’ Party to deliver a sweeping message of defiance and consolidation: his regime will press ahead with state-driven economic development, accelerate a military buildup centered on nuclear weapons, and formalize what he now describes as an irreversible break with South Korea.
The weeklong congress, one of the most consequential political gatherings in North Korea’s tightly controlled system, revisited themes familiar from the previous congress five years ago. Kim reaffirmed his singular and unchallenged leadership, outlined ambitious economic targets under state guidance, and reiterated his demand that the United States abandon what he calls a “hostile policy” and accept North Korea as a nuclear-armed state as a precondition for any meaningful dialogue.
But amid the repetition was a significant and ominous shift: Kim’s stark declaration that the demilitarized zone is no longer merely a temporary ceasefire line from the 1950–53 Korean War but a boundary between “two completely separate states.” In doing so, he appeared to abandon, at least rhetorically, the long-standing North Korean aspiration for eventual reunification of the Korean Peninsula.
For decades, Pyongyang’s official line had framed the Korean Peninsula as “one nation, two systems,” rooted in a shared ethnic identity—minjok—even amid political division. That formulation allowed North Korea to claim the moral high ground of nationalism while rejecting South Korea’s political and economic model.
The turning point came in late 2023, when Kim addressed the Supreme People’s Assembly and declared the two Koreas to be belligerent states. At the time, analysts saw the move as partly a response to the conservative administration of South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol, whose hawkish rhetoric and expanded military cooperation with Washington drew sharp condemnation from Pyongyang.
At this latest congress, Kim made clear that the break transcends any particular government in Seoul. His denunciations extended not only to conservative leadership but also to progressive administrations, including that of current President Lee Jae Myung.
In unusually blunt language, Kim characterized past engagement efforts—beginning with the “Sunshine Policy” of former President Kim Dae-jung—as calculated attempts to undermine and overthrow his regime from within. He accused progressive governments of seeking to spread South Korean culture through reconciliation and cooperation, thereby encouraging ideological “change” that could lead to systemic collapse in the North.
“North Korea has absolutely no business dealings” with what he described as a “most hostile” South Korea, Kim declared, adding that Pyongyang would no longer consider South Koreans as “fellow countrymen.” All ties, he said, have been completely eliminated and will not be revived “under any circumstances.”
The rhetorical shift carries profound implications. For years, even during periods of tension, the shared-nationality narrative left open a theoretical pathway to dialogue or confederation. By redefining the South as a foreign enemy state, Kim appears to be hardening the ideological foundations for long-term confrontation.
Kim paired his political declaration of permanent hostility with explicit military threats, including the possible use of nuclear weapons against South Korea. He asserted the right to conduct a “preemptive strike mission of deterrence” should the North perceive damage to its security environment.
“If South Korea’s reckless actions at the doorstep of a nuclear power are deemed to be damaging to our security environment, we may initiate arbitrary action,” he warned.
In another pointed statement, Kim suggested that the possibility of South Korea’s “complete collapse” could not be ruled out—language that, while not entirely new in tone, was striking in its directness at a formal party gathering.
The threats come amid steady advances in North Korea’s nuclear and missile capabilities. Over the past decade, Pyongyang has tested increasingly sophisticated intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs), including solid-fuel variants believed capable of reaching the continental United States. The regime has also claimed progress in miniaturizing nuclear warheads for tactical use on shorter-range systems targeting South Korea and Japan.
At the congress, Kim emphasized investment in what he termed “nuclear trigger” capabilities—systems designed to ensure rapid launch and survivability of nuclear forces. He described plans for more powerful ground- and underwater-launched ICBM complexes, as well as advanced reconnaissance satellites, electronic warfare systems and assets capable of attacking enemy satellites in emergencies.
The reference to artificial intelligence-based unmanned attack complexes underscored Pyongyang’s ambition to integrate emerging technologies into its military doctrine, even as it faces heavy international sanctions.
The Korean People’s Army (KPA) featured prominently throughout the congress, reflecting a continued emphasis on militarization as both a deterrent and a pillar of regime stability. While Kim has not formally reinstated the “army-first” (Songun) policy championed by his father, Kim Jong Il, he signaled that the military remains central to North Korea’s identity and governance.
“The People’s Army must continue to reliably play the leading role of our great era as a revolutionary armed force loyal to the Party,” Kim said at a military parade concluding the congress.
In a notable moment, a unit of KPA soldiers who had reportedly fought in Ukraine was given pride of place at the parade. They marched carrying both North Korean and Russian flags—an overt display of solidarity with Moscow amid its war in Ukraine.
More than 10,000 North Korean personnel are believed to have been deployed in support roles or combat operations linked to Russia’s campaign, according to various intelligence assessments. While Pyongyang has not publicly detailed its involvement, the parade appearance served as a symbolic acknowledgment of deepening military ties.
Despite the visible gesture toward Moscow at the parade, official documents presented at the congress made little mention of either Russia or China. Observers suggest this omission reflects Pyongyang’s emphasis on self-reliance—juche ideology—before a domestic audience.
Yet the geopolitical context is difficult to ignore. North Korea’s growing alignment with Russia, including arms transfers and reported military cooperation, has raised concerns in Washington and Seoul that Pyongyang could receive advanced technologies in return, potentially accelerating its missile and satellite programs.
China, North Korea’s largest trading partner and traditional ally, also looms in the background. Though not named prominently, Beijing’s strategic rivalry with Washington provides Pyongyang with diplomatic cover and economic lifelines.
Kim’s analysis of the international situation echoed narratives common in both Beijing and Moscow. He portrayed the world as entering a period of “chaos and upheaval” driven by American hegemonic policies. Armed conflicts, he argued, are proliferating because of Washington’s disregard for the sovereignty and security interests of other countries.
Despite the hardening stance toward Seoul, Kim reiterated a conditional openness to dialogue with the United States. The message, however, was tightly framed: any talks must begin with Washington accepting North Korea’s status as a nuclear power and abandoning denuclearization demands.
“If the United States is ready to accept our status as a nuclear power and abandon its hostile policy, we have no reason not to get along,” Kim said.
In response, a White House official told Yonhap News Agency that President Donald Trump remains open to talks with Kim without preconditions.
The exchange underscores a familiar stalemate. During Trump’s first term, he met Kim in unprecedented summits in Singapore and Hanoi, but negotiations collapsed over disagreements about sanctions relief and the scope of denuclearization.
Now, Kim’s formulation appears less an invitation than a demand for capitulation. Accepting North Korea as a permanent nuclear state would mark a fundamental shift in U.S. and allied policy, which has long centered on complete, verifiable and irreversible denuclearization.
Beyond foreign policy and military issues, the congress also revisited domestic economic priorities. Kim reaffirmed his commitment to state-led development, focusing on heavy industry, energy production and agricultural modernization.
Sanctions imposed by the United Nations and individual countries have severely constrained North Korea’s access to global markets and financial systems. The COVID-19 pandemic further isolated the country, with Pyongyang sealing its borders for years.
Although some trade with China has resumed, economic conditions remain strained. Food insecurity and infrastructure decay pose persistent challenges. By emphasizing self-reliance and the “great development potential” of the national economy, Kim sought to project confidence and resilience.
The congress also served as a ritual affirmation of his leadership. In North Korea’s political culture, such gatherings reinforce loyalty to the Kim family dynasty and provide a platform to align party cadres behind strategic priorities.
Kim’s declaration of permanent division may complicate inter-Korean relations for years to come. By rejecting even symbolic gestures of shared nationhood, Pyongyang reduces the political space for future rapprochement.
For South Korea, the shift presents a dilemma. A hardline response risks escalating tensions and reinforcing North Korea’s siege narrative. Yet conciliatory gestures could be dismissed or exploited under Kim’s new doctrine.
The demilitarized zone, once described as a temporary scar awaiting healing, now appears recast by Pyongyang as a fortified boundary between rival states.
Security experts warn that the combination of expanded nuclear capabilities, preemptive doctrine and ideological hostility increases the risk of miscalculation. Military exercises by the United States and South Korea, already a source of friction, could be interpreted by Pyongyang as provocations justifying “arbitrary action.”
At its core, the Ninth Party Congress signaled continuity more than transformation: a confident, isolated regime doubling down on nuclear deterrence and centralized control.
Yet the international environment has changed since the last congress. North Korea now operates within a looser axis of cooperation with Russia and, indirectly, China. This evolving alignment may embolden Kim to take a harder line, calculating that geopolitical rivalries will shield him from the full impact of sanctions or diplomatic pressure.
The presence of North Korean troops linked to the Ukraine conflict, and the display of Russian flags in Pyongyang, mark a new chapter in the regime’s external engagements.
As the congress drew to a close, Kim delivered a triumphant peroration: with a people and army united behind the Party, and a self-reliant economy poised for development, “there is no fortress that we cannot conquer and no great undertaking that we cannot accomplish.”
The words encapsulate the image Kim seeks to project—an embattled but resilient state, armed with nuclear weapons and ideological unity, standing firm against external pressure.
For the Korean Peninsula, however, the message is sobering. The formalization of permanent division, the expansion of nuclear doctrine and the hardening of military alliances suggest a period of sustained tension.
Whether Kim’s overture to Washington leads to renewed diplomacy or deepens the impasse will depend on choices made in Pyongyang, Seoul and Washington alike. For now, the Ninth Party Congress has set a clear course: North Korea will chart its own path, fortified by nuclear arms and convinced of its destiny as a sovereign power in a turbulent world.
