We can observe a trend toward adaptation, as leading powers adjust their approaches to the reality of North Korea’s de facto nuclear status. This shift also extends to the Trump administration, writes Alexander Vorontsov.
In Russian diplomacy, the term “Korean Peninsula Nuclear Problem” (KNP) had become established by the time of the Six-Party Talks (2003–2009). This acronym has fallen out of use recently, but the problem it identified has not only persisted but has dynamically evolved, acquiring new meaning. While the primary focus during the talks was on North Korea’s nuclear programme, discussions surrounding the possibility of South Korea developing a nuclear option have also become increasingly intense in recent times.
Since its initial nuclear test in 2006, Pyongyang has consistently advanced its domestic nuclear capabilities while steadfastly asserting its identity as a nuclear-armed state. Its fifth test, conducted in 2017, was globally recognized by experts as a thermonuclear detonation. While estimates vary, a stockpile of approximately 50 nuclear warheads is widely accepted as a credible assessment.
At the same time, the DPRK leadership has been taking consistent steps to strengthen its legal status as a nuclear state. In 2022, the “Nuclear Armed Forces Policy Law” was adopted, outlining the state’s nuclear doctrine. A year later, in September 2023, the Supreme People’s Assembly of the DPRK amended the constitution accordingly, granting the country the right to develop its nuclear military programme. North Korean leader Kim Jong-un called this event “the perpetuation of the republic’s policy of building a nuclear armed force,” since the basic law of the state “cannot be touched by anyone or anything.”
At the same time, the DPRK has achieved impressive success in developing nuclear-capable missile systems, creating an impressive line of missiles of various types: ballistic missiles, both liquid- and solid-fuelled, including intercontinental-range models; cruise missiles; hypersonic missiles; missiles capable of being launched from mobile ground-based launchers, including rail-based ones; and submarine launchers.
As is well known, for nearly the first quarter of the 21st century, the international community—with the engagement of all permanent members of the UN Security Council—pursued a consistent campaign to achieve the denuclearization of the DPRK. Diplomatic efforts were central to this endeavour, most notably the Six-Party Talks, which sought to persuade Pyongyang to abandon its military nuclear program in return for international security guarantees, modelled on instruments such as the 1994 Budapest Memorandum provided to Ukraine upon its accession to the NPT. Alongside dialogue, coercive measures were employed even more extensively. While the United States and its allies imposed a wide array of unilateral sanctions, constituting the bulk of the pressure, the UN Security Council also enacted its own sanctions following the onset of nuclear tests. The most stringent of these were the restrictive measures adopted in 2017.
At the same time, objective observers have understood that the ultimate goal of Western sanctions policy against North Korea has been the elimination of this unique and defiant state by crippling its economy, rather than merely dismantling its nuclear program. However, in recent years of upheaval within the international military-political and economic order, a complex set of factors has convinced a growing number of international actors of the validity and irreversibility of North Korea’s nuclear status. On the one hand, Pyongyang’s unwavering political resolve to develop its national nuclear-missile potential despite years of severe sanctions, coupled with the demonstrated resilience of its economic system—which managed to endure even under complete self-isolation during the COVID pandemic—has contributed to a broader acknowledgment of the prevailing reality. On the other hand, the erosion of the post–Cold War framework for global engagement, including the current US administration’s “tariff wars,” the lowered threshold for the use of military force in conflicts, and the American-Israeli military operation that bombed Iranian nuclear facilities in June 2025, has laid bare the ephemeral nature of “international legal guarantees” in the contemporary world. This, in turn, has validated Pyongyang’s reliance on its own defensive capabilities, notably its nuclear and missile arsenal.
Following Moscow’s lead, in recent weeks, signs have emerged that both Washington and Beijing have begun to adjust their long-standing positions on this sensitive issue. A significant sign of this progression is the absence of the previously unwavering requirement for North Korea’s denuclearisation from the new US National Security Doctrine, published in November 2025. This policy change has attracted a lot of attention, particularly by Pyongyang’s opponents. Observers have also noted a shift in Beijing’s rhetoric on this issue. China’s 2025 Arms Control White Paper lacks an explicit commitment to North Korea’s denuclearisation, marking a departure from its previous policy position. This reversal, naturally, is causing alarm in Seoul. “Seoul’s diplomatic ability faces test as Washington and Beijing appear to deprioritise Pyongyang’s nuclear threat,” South Korean media outlets report.
Therefore, there is reason to believe that the process of gradual tacit agreement among leading powers to informally perceive Pyongyang as a nuclear-weapons state is beginning to materialise.
Against this backdrop, attention is naturally shifting to the growing discussions in South Korea regarding the feasibility of developing its own nuclear weapons. Debates on this topic have been ongoing for some time, with regular opinion polls consistently showing high public support for the idea—reaching up to 60%.
The arguments put forward by advocates of such a move are largely conventional. They contend that, in response to North Korea’s advancing nuclear capabilities—particularly recent indications of a tactical nuclear component—Seoul must either pursue an independent nuclear arsenal or persuade Washington to redeploy tactical nuclear weapons to the southern part of the peninsula. Underpinning this position is a perceived erosion of trust among South Koreans in the reliability of the US “nuclear umbrella,” even within the framework of the ongoing “extended deterrence” strategy proposed and maintained by the previous administration.
Nevertheless, at the level of the South Korean government, which is well aware of the grave international consequences of a nuclear option for the Republic of Korea, including its fundamental damage to its military alliance with the US, this idea has traditionally been rejected (the only exception was one emotional statement by the previous president, Yoon Suk Yeol, in January 2023).
Current South Korean President Lee Jae Myung has unequivocally confirmed his negative attitude toward both of the aforementioned assumptions appearing in the South Korean media. In our view, as long as Washington remains negative about the prospect of its South Korean ally developing nuclear weapons, the plans of pro-nuclear activists in Seoul have no chance of being realised. Indeed, in certain sectors of the American expert community, ideas have begun to surface in the past year or two regarding the permissibility and even advisability of “friendly proliferation” of WMD among some allies, which, of course, has rightfully attracted the attention of analysts in various countries. However, it is clear that such proposals are currently far from mainstream within the American establishment.
Ultimately, we can observe a trend toward adaptation, as leading powers adjust their approaches to the reality of North Korea’s de facto nuclear status. This shift also extends to the Trump administration. Following this lead, the leadership of the Republic of Korea is now compelled—if not to openly abandon the demand for the DPRK’s denuclearization—then to pursue significantly more flexible means of addressing this highly sensitive issue.
