July 4, 2025
SEOUL – Few policy debates in recent memory have struck such a sensitive nerve as the question now emerging in South Korean political discourse: Should the Ministry of Unification be renamed? The idea, once considered fringe, is now circulating more seriously in the early stages of the Lee Jae Myung administration. Supporters argue that the word “Unification” has lost relevance in today’s geopolitical climate and that a more pragmatic label is needed. But for many Koreans, including myself, this is not simply a matter of nomenclature. It is about who we are as a people, what we have endured and what we still dream of becoming.
The debate is emotional because it touches something deep in our collective consciousness: the pain of division, the hope of reunification and the identity of a nation that has, for centuries, understood itself as one people sharing one destiny. To casually rename a ministry that bears the title “Unification” feels like giving up. In times of growing cynicism, it is tempting to cast off symbols and slogans as empty. But not all names are mere words. Some carry the weight of generations. Some bear witness to wounds still unhealed. I am clearly opposed to the renaming. My opposition is based on six interlocking reasons — constitutional, historical, diplomatic, strategic, political and, above all, human.
First, such a move would run directly counter to the spirit and text of the Constitution, which mentions unification seven times as a national objective. Article 4, in particular, states that “The Republic of Korea shall seek unification and shall formulate and carry out a policy of peaceful unification based on the principles of freedom and democracy.” Erasing the name “Unification” from a core ministry would not only weaken institutional memory but could also be construed as an abandonment of this constitutional mandate. It would be akin to erasing a promise etched into the founding law of the republic.
Second, the name is not just a legal obligation — it reflects a historical yearning that has defined the Korean people for more than a millennium. Since the unification of the Three Kingdoms under Silla and the reunification of the Later Three Kingdoms by Goryeo, Korea has known itself as a singular entity. The division of the peninsula for 80 years is a wound still fresh when measured against over 1,100 years of unity. Some argue that division fatigue is understandable and that the younger generation lacks an emotional connection to the North. However, historical responsibility should not diminish with time. The Ministry of Unification represents the hope, grief, and sacrifice of generations who believed that someday, the divided land and people would be reunited. To rename it would be to dishonor that belief — and those who carried it through more challenging times than these.
Third, we must never forget that Korea’s division was not born of domestic will but imposed through foreign calculation. In 1945, Korea emerged from decades of Japanese colonial rule only to be divided by an arbitrary separation agreed upon by the United States and the Soviet Union. Korean voices were excluded from the process; national sovereignty was sacrificed for Cold War convenience. While we lacked the power to resist then, we possess it now. South Korea is a global economic and cultural power. To surrender our claim to unification now would be to legitimize a historical injustice — and to signal that sovereign rights can be obliterated if the world waits long enough. That message would not only betray our past but also imperil our future.
Fourth, changing the name could send a damaging message to the international community. South and North Korea are recognized as separate entities by the United Nations. Should a crisis occur in the North, it might not be assumed that the South has any natural claim to leadership unless we have demonstrated, consistently and openly, that peaceful unification is a core interest. If the Ministry of Unification were to disappear, that message would become muddled. Our diplomatic position weakens. Other global powers, including the permanent members of the UN Security Council, may assert control, sidelining South Korea from its national destiny. Maintaining the name is a form of diplomatic signaling. To remove it would be an unforced error with high strategic costs.
Fifth, renaming the ministry will not ease tensions with North Korea. Chairman Kim Jong-un’s grudge toward the South is not rooted in semantics. It is rooted in frustration that it is impossible for the North to catch up with the South and to unite the two Koreas under his authoritarian leadership. Renaming the ministry will not change that reality. If anything, it emboldens Pyongyang by suggesting that South Korea’s commitment to reunification is fading. We must instead show that our door remains open — not because we are weak, but because we are patient and principled. Keeping the Ministry of Unification is part of that message.
Finally, on the domestic front, renaming the ministry would only inflame political divisions and complicate the administration’s early governance. Conservative factions have long accused progressive leaders of being soft on North Korea. Renaming the Ministry of Unification would play directly into these narratives, providing ammunition to political opponents. South Korea has urgent work to do — restoring economic dynamism, investing in innovation, strengthening national security and enhancing global competitiveness. We do not need an unproductive controversy that will consume political assets. Practical governance demands focus, not distractions.
This is not merely about preserving a name; it is about maintaining a national aspiration and the moral compass that keeps it alive. The Ministry of Unification stands as a testament to the unfinished work of healing a divided people. Its name is a promise to those who still believe that we can become family members again, especially those who still wait for a knock from a long-lost sibling across the DMZ. We simply must not give up on that promise.
Wang Son-taek
Wang Son-taek is an adjunct professor at Sogang University. He is a former diplomatic correspondent at YTN and a former research associate at Yeosijae. The views expressed here are the writer’s own. — Ed.