Why Is the U.S. Congress Defending a Korea-Based Shopping Platform That Profits in Korea While Leaking Customer Data?

 

Customers in Korea, Lobbyists in Washington: Coupang’s Unusual “Nationality” Strategy

If you’re looking for a simple explanation of Coupang in the United States, here it is: it’s not that Americans “don’t really use it.” For practical purposes, they can’t—at least not in the way Korean consumers can. Coupang doesn’t run a consumer-facing e-commerce operating base in the U.S. with the kind of local logistics, membership ecosystem, and everyday service footprint that would make it a real option for American shoppers. There’s no U.S. “Rocket Delivery” experience embedded into ordinary life, no platform habit, no mainstream consumer entry point.

And yet, in Washington, D.C., Coupang is very much alive.

That asymmetry—revenue in Korea, political energy in the U.S.—is not a minor quirk. It reads like the company’s worldview in miniature: earn in won, pay in dollars, and import leverage in the language of alliances.

A “U.S. Company,” Mainly on Paper

Structurally, Coupang often gets described as a U.S. company. Coupang Inc. owns 100% of the Korean entity, and the stock trades in the United States. At this point, “nationality” starts to look less like a cultural fact and more like a corporate document stamped by a listing venue and an ownership chart.

But wearing the outfit of a U.S.-listed company doesn’t just bring prestige. It brings a bill.

Public companies in the U.S. must explain risk to investors, and risk usually arrives with familiar faces: regulation, enforcement, politics, legal change. The more revenue Coupang stacks in Korea, the more Korea’s laws and policy shifts become not “local conditions” but formalized “risk factors.” Predictably, the company’s gaze drifts away from American consumers (who aren’t using the service anyway) and toward Korean bills, regulators, and parliamentary votes.

When Lobbying Isn’t About Entering a Market—It’s About Defending One

This is where the story flips.

Coupang’s Washington lobbying doesn’t look like the warm-up lap for U.S. consumer expansion. It looks like a full-scale defense strategy for its Korea-centered business. The goal is not to win American customers. The goal is to win a frame.

Specifically:

• Translate Korean regulatory debates into U.S. digital trade language.

• Repackage domestic policy disputes as non-tariff barriers or discrimination against U.S. firms.

• Elevate “a Korean law question” into “a bilateral issue” that can echo through negotiations.

Once that translation succeeds, Korean policy is no longer just Korean policy. It becomes an item that can be referenced, pressured, and leveraged in venues where the rules of the game change—trade talks, diplomatic channels, congressional narratives.

In other words, lobbying buys you something better than airtime. It buys you altitude.

Congress as an Amplifier: A Letter Becomes a Shadow

In this model, U.S. Congress is not just a political institution. It’s a loudspeaker.

A single congressional letter, a hearing, a formal expression of “concern”—these are tiny objects with disproportionate weight. They can cast long shadows over Korean regulators and domestic policy processes, because once the phrase “unfair treatment of U.S. companies” enters the record, it becomes usable.

And in politics, “usable” often outranks “accurate.”

The decisive question isn’t whether every claim is perfectly faithful to local nuance. It’s whether the claim can travel—through trade frameworks, alliance rhetoric, and negotiation pressure. For a company facing regulatory risk where it actually operates and earns, borrowing the grammar of U.S. power can be more efficient than persuading domestic public opinion.

Why the Focus Tilts Toward Foreign Policy, Trade, and Legal Channels

That’s also why observers tend to read Coupang’s lobbying posture as oriented less toward everyday consumer issues—delivery standards, customer protection, retail competition—and more toward foreign policy, trade, and legal-institutional lanes.

The moment a domestic regulation is reframed as a trade barrier, the nature of the dispute changes:

• “Policy” becomes “barrier.”

• “Public interest” becomes “market access.”

• “Domestic debate” becomes “bilateral friction.”

A platform regulation argument, once translated into digital trade terms, comes with a wider arsenal. It becomes less about compliance and more about leverage.

Public Diplomacy as a Polishing Cloth

Add the language of public diplomacy, and the surface gets even smoother.

Partnerships framed as contributing to public diplomacy initiatives can make a company look less like an interest group and more like a “policy partner.” Lobbying is no longer plain self-interest; it can be dressed in the wardrobe of shared values, cooperation, and alliance-friendly messaging.

Politics has many expensive commodities, but one stands out: the appearance of legitimacy.

And legitimacy is sometimes cheaper to acquire through official partnerships than through public trust.

The Real Question Isn’t “Why Lobby if Americans Don’t Use It?”

That question is too gentle.

A sharper version is:
Why does a company with no real U.S. consumer operating base work so hard to transact with U.S. political power?

The answer is not complicated. Coupang’s business is in Korea. Its regulatory risk is in Korea. And it may calculate that U.S. political and trade machinery can help reduce that risk—or at least reshape the battlefield.

Pay the premium in dollars. Protect the cash flow in won.

Nationality Is a Tool, Not a Place

If this still feels strange, it may be because we’re clinging to an older habit: thinking a company’s nationality is defined by where it sells and serves customers.

In the modern economy, nationality is increasingly assigned by listings and legal structures. And loyalty is often determined less by citizenship than by where the biggest regulatory risk lives.

Coupang, in that sense, looks like a company that doesn’t sell to America—but knows how to use America remarkably well.

Coupang, the “oops-our-data” tech firm: profits in Korea, lobbying in America.

 Viewed strictly in terms of its ownership structure and listing status, Coupang is classified as a U.S. company. Coupang Inc owns 100% of the Korean operating entity, and its shares are traded on a U.S. stock exchange. Criticism has also persisted that there are no Korean members on the board of directors. On its U.S. website, Coupang has described itself as a “U.S. technology company,” and reports have said that in August 2024 it signed an agreement with the U.S. Department of State to support the expansion of public diplomacy. At the time, the State Department said it would work with Coupang to establish American Spaces in South Korea, prompting interpretations that Coupang appeared to be aligning itself with the thrust of United States foreign policy.

Yet many assessments note that, despite the legal outward form of a “U.S. company,” Coupang has little felt presence in the U.S. market. A similarly sized e-commerce firm such as eBay is widely recognized among the U.S. public, whereas Coupang is said to be comparatively little known in the United States. One explanation is that services highlighted on Coupang’s U.S. website—such as Rocket Delivery and streaming—are not actually offered to U.S. consumers, and that this feeds into the recognition gap. Observations have followed that Coupang is often left out when rankings of U.S. e-commerce companies are discussed. Although there is talk that it could expand its role as a platform distributing U.S. products to consumers in Korea and Taiwan, the view remains that this share is still small in Coupang’s overall revenue.

Against that backdrop, a concern has been raised that Coupang’s active lobbying of U.S. political circles can seem puzzling. Lobbying is common in industries where profits fluctuate with regulation and government support, but the idea is that it is not intuitively easy to explain why a company that does not run its business around U.S. consumers would intensify influence operations in Washington. Even so, figures suggesting Coupang’s lobbying outlays are substantial have been repeatedly cited. Based on data compiled by OpenSecrets, Coupang spent about $8.58 million on lobbying from 2021 through the third quarter of 2025, and the total is summarized as roughly $10.75 million when direct political donations are included. For 2024 alone, spending was tallied at about $3.31 million, placing it 193rd out of roughly 9,200 entities subject to lobbying disclosure. Comparisons have been drawn to eBay’s lobbying spend (about $2.05 million) and to Hyundai Motor Company (about $2.32 million), which is often described as having strong demand for U.S. government lobbying due to EV subsidies and tariff issues—comparisons that reinforced the impression that Coupang was far from “passive.” In addition, reports said Coupang contributed $1 million to the fund preparing Donald Trump’s inauguration in 2025, and that Bom Kim attended the official inauguration ceremony held at the U.S. Capitol as a result.

Observations have continued that the focus of Coupang’s lobbying is less on domestic consumer issues and more on diplomacy, trade, and legal-institutional domains. There has also been an account that a contact in Washington, D.C. who reviewed Coupang’s lobbying reports said, in effect, that the House Foreign Affairs Committee and the Senate Judiciary Committee appeared to be core targets. The personnel dimension has likewise emphasized connections along “foreign policy–national security–judiciary” lines. For example, a case has been cited in which Alex Wong, described as having overseen lobbying efforts at Coupang in 2021, was nominated as Deputy National Security Advisor in a second Trump term. Accounts have also described former U.S. government officials—such as figures associated with Marco Rubio’s orbit and former Judiciary Committee staffers—handling Coupang’s government relations. The institutions listed as lobbying counterparts have been described broadly as including both chambers of Congress and the White House, along with the National Security Council, the State Department, the Office of the U.S. Trade Representative, and the U.S. Department of Commerce.

This trajectory has been described as overlapping with U.S.-side objections surrounding South Korea’s proposed “Online Platform Act.” In June 2025, Politico was summarized as reporting that U.S. IT companies—including Coupang, Google, and Apple—had continued to criticize South Korea’s platform regulation as discriminatory against U.S. firms, and that Jamieson Greer and Howard Lutnick had, during tariff negotiations, reflected company views and privately pressed for halting the bill’s advance. Even if it cannot be pinned down as Coupang’s effort alone, an assessment has followed that it is still notable that a company earning most of its revenue in Korea came to reinforce the U.S. side’s logic during a Korea–U.S. trade negotiation phase. In that context, it has been pointed out that Coupang participates in the Computer & Communications Industry Association, which opposes platform regulation across jurisdictions such as the European Union and South Korea, and that it also joined the board of the National Foreign Trade Council, whose members include Walmart and Ford. The same line of reporting has said that Coupang, which had contracted with a lobbying firm connected to Joe Biden’s administration, later partnered—after Trump’s reelection—with two firms associated with conservative figures such as Rubio and Mike Pence.

Political donations and cultural-institution contributions have also been mentioned together. One account states that Coupang’s corporate PAC donated $100,000 to the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, described as a major venue in Washington, D.C. Another figure presented is that it donated about $198,978 to lawmakers and campaign organizations across both the Republican and Democratic parties. Within that total, it was said that Jason Smith received $15,000, and that he serves as chair of the House Ways and Means Committee, which handles trade matters.

The suspicion that Coupang may be seeking to influence Korean policy decisions through the U.S. government has been described as being reinforced not only by the scale of lobbying but also by the direction of its “risk perception.” A representative point is the claim that Coupang’s annual report filed with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission enumerated changes in Korean laws and institutions at length as risk factors. The risks listed were summarized as wide-ranging: possible adoption of platform regulation, application of the Serious Accidents Punishment Act, the Fair Trade Act, union activity, litigation, and criminal penalties and fines. 

The assessment added that, rather than emphasizing a willingness to comply, the filing notably elaborated on instability stemming from legal change and punishment, and that it appeared to treat domestic regulatory change in Korea as a larger uncertainty than issues like information security or shifts in the international economy. In that context, accounts have also cited an instance in July 2024 in which the House Judiciary Committee sent a formal protest letter to the Korea Fair Trade Commission over the Online Platform Act initiative, as well as an instance in December 2024 in which the USTR canceled an annual Korea–U.S. FTA meeting amid interpretations about what lay behind the decision. A further example cited in the same vein is that, on January 12, 2026, Darrell Issa publicly disclosed a meeting with Yeo Han-gu and invoked a frame of “unfair treatment” related to Coupang.

Taken together, the argument surrounding Coupang has often been summarized as follows: “Its legal identity is that of a U.S. company, but the substantive base of its business lies in Korea, and it therefore treats Korea’s regulatory and political environment as a risk while concentrating its efforts on Washington’s foreign policy, trade, and legal channels.” From this perspective, the Korean government, National Assembly, and public opinion are framed as “risks” for Coupang, and the conclusion naturally follows that Coupang’s interests and the policy direction sought within Korean society are oriented in different directions.

Learn from Korea! K-Pop, K-Food, K-Defense… Now It’s “K-Protest”!

Korea’s martial-law troops, heavily armed with assault rifles, stormed the National Assembly, but Korean citizens came out holding light sticks and sang in unison. The dictator who imposed martial law is currently standing trial while being held in a detention center.

Protests have been increasing in the United States lately. And American protests are showing ever more clearly a violent, confrontational edge. There was a time in Korea when student demonstrations were intense, and governments even formed “combat police” to suppress them; back then, Korean media often ran stories introducing “peaceful” protests in the U.S. or Europe with a kind of envy.

And yet, ironically, despite Korea’s past—when military dictatorships mobilized troops and violated citizens’ lives and property—Korean street protests have in some ways become even more peaceful, even when facing a martial-law crisis sparked by an unpopular president and a First Lady who was widely mocked and disparaged.

The level of peacefulness in Korean protests has evolved to the point where people wave light sticks and sing in unison—like they are at an idol concert. Martial-law troops carried assault rifles, special-forces machine guns meant for counter-terror operations, and even spoke in terms that did not shy away from missile threats. But Korean citizen-protesters came out into the streets with nothing but their bodies and a single light stick in hand.

A light stick is stronger than a gun.
“The light-stick is mightier than the rifle.”

“Criminal of the Year: The President.” “Die prettily—get out!”

Scenes that used to belong to Korea’s 1980s campuses—answering guns with guns, answering tear gas with stones—now look like scenes from Los Angeles, New York, Arizona, and elsewhere in the United States. In the opposite direction from Korea, American protests have grown more extreme. That is understandable, given the rage ignited by reckless and irresponsible shootings that take civilian lives.

But precisely at times like these, it becomes the moment to learn from Korea’s protests. A march that pours out in fury, without plan or structure, does not easily grow into a sustained civic movement. There is a clear target that must be driven out, and they are criminals who have seized power. That is exactly why a long-term response becomes even more necessary.

A design is also needed—one that lifts people up to come out, and that lets them share a common feeling once they do. Korean protests have long had music, shaped through decades of protest culture. Many Korean pop musicians, even amid authoritarian pressure to “crack down on entertainers,” found ways to resist. Their natural instrument of resistance was music—songs.

Bands turned up the volume and played. Singers did not merely belt out lyrics; they spoke with the crowd, communicated, and held a conversation. They comforted, encouraged, turned hard time into laughter, and transformed it into the kind of joy people feel at a concert. In that space, the capacities that make a protest healthy, constructive, and sustainable grew stronger.

Long dictatorship, foolish policies, and the private greed of the powerful pushed citizens to evolve even the culture of protest itself. That is how regimes collapsed. A leader who seemed to blink blankly—like it was someone else’s business—even after young students were sent to their deaths, was removed from the presidency. And another figure, ridiculed for staging fake “commutes” while lurching through scandal day and night, was sent to prison.

What “removes” dictators and political criminals is not a blade, but a twinkling—pyororong—light stick.

It is not literal beheading like Charles I or Marie Antoinette. But the light sticks, the mass sing-alongs, and the stubborn endurance through Korea’s freezing winter cut through delusion and corruption more sharply than any axe or sword ever could.

Even now, Korea’s judiciary is acting like those who once bowed their heads in loyalty to Charles I and Antoinette right up to the moment their power collapsed. But just as their authority was neutralized the moment it fell, it too will eventually be brought under control.

In this sense, light sticks, songs, and silver-foil emergency blankets are stronger than any violent behavior by protesters. So, American citizens: there is no need to set your own arms on fire, or rush out in rage holding placards covered in threatening words. Light sticks can be bought. Even Amazon sells plenty of Korean light sticks. And K-pop can be sung—together.

What makes America great is citizens’ songs and their voices singing as one. And to Korea’s civil society: light sticks can be bought for American protesters, too.

Make America Song Great Again!

The Judgment on Kim Keon-hee Case That Turned a Woman into a “Non-Entity”

 

In its January 28 first-instance ruling, the court partially upheld only the charge of accepting a bribe for mediation (influence peddling) under the Act on the Aggravated Punishment, etc. of Specific Crimes, among the allegations brought against Mrs. Kim (Kim Keon-hee): the Deutsche Motors stock-price manipulation case (violation of the Capital Markets Act), the Myung Tae-kyun polling case (violation of the Political Funds Act), and the receipt of valuables from the Unification Church (accepting a bribe for mediation).

A “Patriarchal Judgment” Spoken in Anticipation of Being Overturned on Appeal

This is not only a problem of Woo In-seong. Even though a perception is widely shared—at least in some circles—that Kim Keon-hee was the de facto ringleader who directed an insurrection, attention and action from politics as well as investigative authorities have been focused solely on Yoon Suk-yeol and his operational network.

This is the point at which feminists become angry. It is also a verdict that most women should find infuriating. Does it mean that a woman cannot be the subject—the principal actor—of an insurrection or martial law? If Kim Keon-hee, as a woman, was in fact the real ringleader, why is there no active investigation into her? This judgment needs to be reframed so that it reveals the crime as one in which Kim Keon-hee was the principal actor; only then can it become an occasion to recognize women as political subjects.

Look at Woo In-seong’s ruling. It excluded Kim Keon-hee from the status of co-principal offender in a stock-price manipulation scheme. In other words, it did not recognize her as an agent of the manipulation. One can read in it the mentality that “how could a mere woman dare be acknowledged, even in part, in the male world of men who toy with stocks?”

And is that all. In a political environment where opinion polls have become a key metric for determining viable political figures, the ruling likewise fixed in place the notion that women cannot be agents. It excluded women from the complex political phenomenon called “public opinion”—from the act of understanding it, and even more, from the act of shaping or coordinating it.

Kim Keon-hee was not the only one excluded. The ruling also erased the substantive role of Kang Hye-kyung, who allegedly adjusted Excel figures directly to meet Myung Tae-kyun’s detailed demands. Woo In-seong treated Kang Hye-kyung’s statements as little more than “hearsay.” In doing so, he effectively removed from the evidentiary picture the strongest testimony: the words of a witness who both executed the manipulation of the polls and testified about it.

Of course, Woo In-seong already knows the ruling will be overturned on appeal—or rather, he proceeds on that assumption. What he sought was to reveal, without concealment, his own far-right political inclination while demonstrating loyalty to Kim Keon-hee. And in order to show loyalty to the power that is Kim Keon-hee, he used language of reproach aimed at Kim Keon-hee as a woman.

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Woman = A Non-Entity?

Yet in the judgment—an official record—Woo In-seong reduced women to mere appendages of power: beings who, at best, receive trinkets, health supplements, or the like handed down by those who meticulously attend to the periphery of power. The written judgment read as though a father-like judge were scolding a misbehaving daughter.

“She was preoccupied only with adorning herself.”

How malicious and contemptuous is that expression? And yet, even though a judge used language like this in court in a case of such consequence, one can hardly find criticism that identifies this phrasing in the judgment as patriarchal and anti-feminist. That fact was, personally, shocking.

Have those who have spoken of feminism in South Korea really done nothing more than throw a “feminism” mask over petty tantrums? After insisting on social participation and demanding recognition as subjects of society, why is there silence in the face of a misogynistic judgment like this?

Are women nothing more than beings who commit crimes around power solely for their appearance, for handbags, for jewelry? The author wants people to say it plainly: argue that Kim Keon-hee should receive the maximum sentence. Women can be the principal actors in political crimes; and in crimes involving election rigging, bribery, and even insurrection, Kim Keon-hee was the real ringleader—one who supposedly wielded Yoon Suk-yeol and Kim Yong-hyun in the palm of her hand.

The author argues that there should be no retreat into the cattle pen of a “woman” who is “far from crime and power,” a “non-entity.” In order to avoid punishment, Kim Keon-hee fled behind patriarchal labels such as “femininity” and “being nothing.” In doing so, she committed a crime even against women’s identity and against the task of safeguarding women’s rights.

Coupang’s Personal Data Leak Sparks Broad U.S. Political Lobbying and Controversy

 

Coupang, the one who farted gets angry at Korean Government

Coupang, South Korea’s largest e-commerce company, has become the center of a multifaceted political and legal controversy in the United States following a major personal data breach that affected millions of users. The incident has drawn widespread regulatory scrutiny in Korea and now appears to be spilling into U.S. political and trade arenas, fueled in part by aggressive lobbying efforts and actions by U.S. investors.

• The starting point was Coupang’s own failure—a large-scale personal data breach that exposed user information.

• Instead of focusing first on accountability, remediation, and transparency, Coupang and its major U.S. investors shifted the narrative.

• Korean regulatory scrutiny was reframed as political discrimination, trade pressure, or even a threat to U.S.–Korea relations.

• The company and its backers then escalated the issue by mobilizing U.S. political, trade, and diplomatic channels, effectively pushing back against regulators rather than acknowledging fault.

In other words:

The party that caused the problem responded not with contrition, but with anger and counterattack—using power and influence to change the subject.

 

Massive Data Breach and Domestic Backlash

In late 2025, Coupang disclosed that a cyberattack exposed personal information linked to tens of millions of customer accounts, prompting public criticism and an expansive government investigation in South Korea.
The company later filed disclosures in the United States asserting that although roughly 33 million accounts were accessed, only about 3,000 actual records were retained and no data was shared with third parties. Critics argue that this characterization downplays the scope of the breach and may raise issues under U.S. securities law.

Domestically, the breach triggered emergency government meetings and heightened scrutiny from regulators, with authorities stepping up interagency responses to the incident.

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From Data Breach to U.S. Political Arena

What began as a cybersecurity incident has rapidly taken on international political and trade dimensions.

U.S. Investors Escalate to Trade and Arbitration Claims

Two major U.S. investment firms that hold significant Coupang stock—Greenoaks Capital Partners and Altimeter Capital Management—have taken the unprecedented step of petitioning the U.S. Trade Representative (USTR) to investigate the Korean government’s handling of the data breach under Section 301 of the U.S. Trade Act.

These investors claim that:

• The Korean government’s regulatory response to the breach has been discriminatory and punitive toward Coupang.

• The probe has caused significant financial losses for shareholders.

• Korea’s actions may violate the Korea-U.S. Free Trade Agreement (KORUS) and merit trade remedies, including possible tariffs or sanctions.

They have also submitted notices of intent to pursue international arbitration under KORUS’s Investor-State Dispute Settlement (ISDS) mechanism, arguing that Seoul’s actions go beyond ordinary regulation and amount to unlawful treatment of a U.S.-listed company.

This move is unusual: it is rare for U.S. investors to sue a foreign government, and it has the potential to escalate into a broader trade conflict.

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Coupang’s Lobbying and U.S. Political Responses

Allegations of Lobbying Influence

Coupang has reportedly engaged in extensive lobbying efforts in Washington over the past several years—spending millions of dollars to cultivate support among U.S. policymakers and key political figures. According to Korean media reporting, these efforts have involved outreach across both major parties and government circles, which some Korean officials believe has become a factor in how the issue has played out in U.S. political discourse.

Former senior U.S. officials and commentators have used the platform of these raised concerns to criticize Korean actions. For example, a former U.S. National Security Council aide associated with Donald Trump publicly argued that aggressive Korean regulatory actions against Coupang could harm broader U.S.-Korea trade relations, framing the dispute in geopolitical terms.

Advocacy Groups Weigh In

U.S. domestic groups such as the Korean American Political Action Committee (KAPAC) have explicitly warned Coupang against using American political influence to “provoke conflict” or deflect scrutiny of the data breach. KAPAC has called on the company to be transparent about the breach and to implement meaningful compensation measures for affected customers, while distancing the data issue from geopolitical narratives.

This reflects concern among some Koreans in the U.S. that Coupang’s efforts to leverage political advocacy could exacerbate tensions between Seoul and Washington.

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Diplomatic and Policy Implications

The controversy has reached the highest levels of government diplomacy. South Korean leaders, including Prime Minister Kim Min-seok, have sought to calm tensions by assuring U.S. lawmakers that Korea’s regulatory actions are neutral and lawful, and not aimed at discriminating against U.S. companies.

U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance has also publicly called for a fair and constructive resolution, underscoring the importance of managing the issue carefully to avoid misunderstandings or escalation in the broader bilateral relationship.

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What This Means

The Coupang case illustrates how a domestic corporate crisis—in this case a massive data breach—can rapidly evolve into an international political and trade flashpoint when:

• the company is listed in a foreign market (U.S.),

• investors wield political channels to influence outcomes, and

• diplomatic relationships intersect with global regulatory and trade frameworks.

Observers warn that if unresolved or mismanaged, the dispute could strain U.S.-Korea economic cooperation, complicate digital regulation norms, and influence how cross-border corporate governance and data protection issues are adjudicated in the era of globalized tech platforms.

Hyundai and Kia’s Hybrid Comfort Zone Is Being Challenged by a Brutal EV Price War

Hyundai Sonata Hybrid for 2026

For years, Hyundai Motor Group—including Hyundai and Kia—has pursued a cautious and, in many ways, pragmatic approach to electrification. While global rivals rushed headlong into battery-electric vehicles (EVs), Hyundai doubled down on hybrids, positioning them as a profitable and flexible bridge technology. In an era of volatile battery prices, uneven charging infrastructure, and uncertain consumer demand, the strategy looked sensible.

But the Korean EV market is changing fast—and brutally.

As Tesla, Polestar, and a growing wave of Chinese EV brands flood South Korea with aggressively priced models, Hyundai and Kia now find themselves on unfamiliar ground. The group’s recent price cuts and financing incentives on EVs look less like a confident strategic pivot and more like a defensive maneuver aimed at buying time.

Kia’s decision to slash prices on the EV5 and EV6, and to expand ultra-low-interest installment plans for the EV3 and EV4, underscores the pressure. These moves are not about redefining the EV market—they are about surviving it. When post-subsidy prices fall into the mid-30 million won range, the message is clear: price, not product differentiation, has become the immediate battlefield.

The pressure is being driven largely by imported EVs with Chinese production bases. Tesla’s pricing in South Korea is particularly striking. The Model 3 Performance sells in Korea for far less than in the United States, Europe, or even China, where it is manufactured. Polestar and BYD have followed similar playbooks, effectively treating Korea as a price-discount market. The logic is simple: breaking into a market dominated by Hyundai Motor Group requires undercutting it—sometimes dramatically.

This is where Hyundai’s long-standing dominance becomes a double-edged sword. With such overwhelming market share at home, foreign automakers have little incentive to compete on brand or loyalty. They compete on price, even if it means absorbing short-term losses. The expected arrival of Chinese brands like Zeekr—whose vehicles sell for up to 100 million won overseas but may enter Korea at around 50 million won—signals that this price war is only beginning.

Against this backdrop, Hyundai and Kia’s hybrid-heavy strategy begins to look less like foresight and more like a delayed reckoning. Hybrids have delivered steady profits and protected margins, especially as global EV demand cooled in parts of Europe and North America. But hybrids do not build EV ecosystems. They do not lock in charging networks, software platforms, or battery supply chains at scale. And they do little to prepare consumers for a fully electric future.

The current response—cutting EV prices and sweetening financing—addresses symptoms, not causes. Government subsidies are nearing their practical limits, and currency effects alone cannot explain the deep discounts now appearing in the Korean market. What Hyundai and Kia are really facing is a structural shift: EVs are no longer premium products sold on technology and brand alone. They are becoming commodities, sold on price, scale, and speed of iteration—areas where Chinese manufacturers, in particular, excel.

In this sense, Hyundai’s EV pricing moves feel like a holding action. They buy breathing room while the company reassesses its EV roadmap, but they do not resolve the underlying tension between a hybrid-first strategy and a market that is rapidly forcing full electrification. The longer Hyundai delays a decisive EV push, the more it risks being dragged into price wars it did not choose and cannot easily control.

The irony is that Hyundai Motor Group has the technical capability to compete aggressively in EVs. What it has lacked—until now—is urgency. The Korean market, once its safest stronghold, is becoming the very arena where that urgency is being imposed from the outside.

Korean Automakers Turn to Price Cuts as Imported EVs Escalate Low-Price Offensive

The electric vehicle line-ups of Kia Motors, one of the biggest Korean Car Maker

 

As imported electric vehicles—led by Tesla—intensify aggressive price competition in South Korea, domestic automakers have begun responding with price cuts of their own. With more than 20 new EV models set to launch in the Korean market this year alone, competition is expected to grow even fiercer.

Kia announced on Thursday that it would cut the price of its midsize electric SUV, the EV5 Long Range, by 2.8 million won, while reducing the price of the EV6 by 3 million won. As a result, the EV5 Long Range now starts at 45.75 million won for the base “Air” trim. After applying national and local government subsidies, as well as EV transition incentives, the effective purchase price in Seoul is expected to fall to around 37.28 million won.

The EV6 now starts at 43.6 million won for the standard version and 47.6 million won for the long-range version. With subsidies factored in, prices drop to approximately 35.79 million won and 38.89 million won, respectively. Notably, the newly launched EV5 Standard, the entry-level version of the EV5 lineup, is priced at 43.1 million won, bringing the post-subsidy purchase price into the mid-34 million won range.

Kia has also expanded financing incentives for the EV3 and EV4, offering installment plans with interest rates of 0.8% for 48 months and 1.1% for 60 months under its standard M-financing program. Industry observers interpret these moves as a direct response to imported EV brands that are leveraging price competitiveness to penetrate the Korean market.

Indeed, imported EV brands with production bases in China—including Tesla, Polestar, and BYD—have adopted unusually aggressive pricing strategies in South Korea. An analysis of Tesla’s Model 3 Performance prices across 50 countries shows an average global price of approximately 91.2 million won. In South Korea, however, Tesla sells the same model for just 59.99 million won—more than 30 million won cheaper. Excluding Hong Kong, South Korea offers the lowest price among all 50 markets. The Korean price undercuts those in the United States (80.53 million won), Europe (98.8 million won), and even China (71.7 million won), where the Model 3 is manufactured.

A similar pattern can be seen with other brands. The Polestar 4, which typically sells for between 80 million and 100 million won in the U.S. and Europe and over 70 million won in China, is priced at 66.9 million won in South Korea. BYD’s Korean pricing is likewise significantly lower than in most overseas markets, excluding China. Even accounting for the currently weak Korean won, analysts note that the recommended retail prices themselves are conspicuously low.

This pricing strategy appears closely tied to the Hyundai Motor Group’s dominant domestic market share. One executive at an imported carmaker commented, “The Korean market is unusual in that it is effectively dominated by a single company. To break into such a market, there is little choice but to compete on price—even if it means taking short-term losses.” Industry insiders expect that Zeekr’s midsize electric SUV, the 7X, which sells overseas for between 70 million and 100 million won, could enter the Korean market later this year at around 50 million won. BYD is also expected to introduce entry-level EV models in the 20 million won range.

Experts believe that EV price competition in South Korea will only intensify. As a result, Hyundai Motor Group is widely expected to announce additional EV purchase incentives in the near future. Cho Chul, a senior researcher at the Korea Institute for Industrial Economics and Trade, noted, “China’s EV market has already seen substantial price cuts since last year due to intense competition. That leaves ample room for further reductions in Korea as well. With government subsidies facing clear limits, improving price competitiveness has become an urgent task for domestic brands.”

Against this backdrop, Hyundai’s recent moves suggest a defensive recalibration rather than a fundamental shift in strategy. While the group has long emphasized hybrids as a more stable and profitable transition technology amid EV market uncertainty, the rapid influx of low-priced imported EVs—particularly from China—appears to be forcing a short-term response centered on pricing rather than product differentiation. Whether this approach can hold back the accelerating EV wave remains an open question.

元首相ハン・ドクス、内乱関与で懲役23年判決 ―求刑を上回る重刑、法廷で即時身柄拘束

懲役23年の判決が言い渡されると、法廷内にはどよめきが広がった。ハン・ドクス元首相は判決により、その場で身柄を拘束された。

韓国の裁判所は、内乱への重要な役割での関与などの罪に問われていたハン・ドクス（韓悳洙）元首相に対し、懲役23年を言い渡した。これは、2024年12月3日の非常戒厳宣布が韓国刑法上の内乱罪に該当すると判断した、司法による初の判決である。ハン元首相は、判決言い渡し直後に法廷内で身柄を拘束された。

1月21日、ソウル中央地方法院・刑事合議第33部（裁判長：イ・ジングァン〈李鎭官〉部長判事）は、内乱重要任務従事、虚偽公文書作成などの罪で起訴されていたハン元首相について、大半の公訴事実を有罪と認定し、懲役23年の実刑判決を言い渡した。

ハン元首相は、違法な非常戒厳宣布に手続的正当性を与える目的で、当時の大統領であるユン・ソンニョル（尹錫悦）前大統領に対し、2024年12月3日に国務会議の招集を建議したとして、内乱の首謀者幇助および内乱重要任務従事の容疑で、昨年8月29日に起訴された。

また検察によると、ハン元首相は、ユン前大統領および当時大統領室付属室長であったカン・ウィグ（姜義九）と共謀し、非常戒厳宣布の違法性を隠蔽する目的で、事後的に作成された非常戒厳宣布文書に署名し、その後これを廃棄したとされる（虚偽公文書作成および行使）。さらに、ユン前大統領の弾劾審判において、「（戒厳宣布文を）いつ、どのように受け取ったのか本当に覚えていない」と証言し、偽証した罪にも問われている。

**チョ・ウンソク（趙恩錫）**特別検察官率いる特別検察チームは、昨年11月26日の結審公判で、懲役15年を求刑していたが、裁判所はこれを大きく上回る量刑を言い渡した。

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判決文朗読中、市民の勇気に言及し判事が言葉を詰まらせる

ハン・ドクス元首相の一審判決公判で、イ・ジングァン（李鎭官）裁判長は、「武装した戒厳軍に素手で立ち向かい、国会を守った市民の勇気によってもたらされた結果だ」と述べた直後、感情を抑えきれない様子を見せた。
（写真＝ソウル中央地方法院提供）

今回の異例ともいえる重刑判決に際し、裁判長のイ・ジングァン部長判事が見せた感情を抑えきれない瞬間が、大きな注目を集めた。イ判事は、12月3日の非常戒厳をめぐる事態に言及し、**「武装した戒厳軍に素手で立ち向かい、国会を守った市民の勇気」**について語る中で、一時言葉を続けられなくなった。

イ判事は、用意された判決文を終始落ち着いた口調で読み上げていたが、量刑理由を説明する過程で、ハン元首相および内乱首謀者の容疑を受けているユン前大統領側の主張にも触れ、「内乱の過程で死者は発生しておらず、行為自体も数時間で終息した」との反論を紹介した。

そのうえで、「しかし」と前置きし、次のように述べた。

「それは何よりも、武装した戒厳軍に対して素手で立ち向かい、国会を守った市民の勇気によるものである」

この発言の直後、イ判事は約6秒間言葉を詰まらせ、涙をこらえる様子を見せた。その後、眼鏡をかけ直して判決文朗読を続けた。

さらにイ判事は、次のように付け加えた。

「加えて、市民の抵抗を基盤として迅速に国会に入り、非常戒厳解除要求決議案を可決した『一部の』政治家の努力、韓国の歴史における内乱の暗い記憶を想起し、違法な命令に抵抗した、あるいはやむを得ず従ったとしても消極的に関与した一部の軍人・警察公務員の行動によるものである」

イ判事は、政治家に言及する際、「一部の」という表現を強調し、責任が広く政治全体に帰されるものではないことを明確にした。そして最後に、こう断言した。

「決して、12月3日の内乱に加担した者たちによるものではない」

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市民の反応「正義が生きていると感じた」

判決を生中継で見守っていた視聴者やネットユーザーの間では、イ判事が一瞬言葉を失った場面が強い印象を残したとして、共感の声が広がった。

あるネットユーザーは、「ハン・ドクス懲役23年。涙がにじんだ。これまでの野蛮を押し返し、慰めと救いを感じた。イ・ジングァン判事に感謝する」と書き込んだ。

経済学者は、フェイスブックに次のように投稿した。

「“警告的戒厳”などというものは存在せず、短時間で終わったのは素手で止めた市民のおかげだ、という言葉を聞いて涙が出そうになった。裁判の判決を見て泣きそうになったのは初めてだ」

SNS上ではこのほかにも、「イ・ジングァン判事の判決文朗読を聞きながら何度も鼻の奥がツンとした」「司法は本来こうあるべきだ」といった反応が相次いだ。

Former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo Sentenced to 23 Years for Involvement in Insurrection, Exceeding Prosecutors’ Request; Taken into Custody in Court!

Gasps and audible reactions erupt in the courtroom as a 23-year prison sentence is announced. Han Duck-soo is immediately taken into custody in court, in accordance with the ruling.

A South Korean court has sentenced former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo to 23 years in prison on charges including participation in an insurrection in a key operational role. This marks the first judicial ruling to determine that the December 3 emergency martial law declaration constituted the crime of insurrection under South Korea’s Criminal Act. Han was immediately taken into custody in the courtroom following the verdict.

On January 21, the Seoul Central District Court, Criminal Division 33 (Presiding Judge Lee Jin-kwan) found Han guilty on most of the charges brought against him, including playing a critical role in an insurrection and forgery of official documents, and imposed a sentence of 23 years’ imprisonment.

Han was indicted on August 29 last year for allegedly aiding the ringleader of an insurrection and acting as a key participant, by recommending that then-President Yoon Suk Yeol convene a Cabinet meeting on December 3, 2024, with the aim of lending procedural legitimacy to an unlawful declaration of emergency martial law.

He was also charged with conspiring with former President Yoon and Kang Eui-gu, then head of the Presidential Office’s annex, to conceal the illegality of the martial law declaration. According to prosecutors, Han signed a retroactively fabricated martial law proclamation, later destroyed the document (constituting forgery and use of false official documents), and committed perjury during President Yoon’s impeachment trial by stating, “I truly do not remember when or how I received the martial law proclamation from the president.”

The Special Prosecutor’s Office, led by Cho Eun-seok, had sought a 15-year prison sentence at the conclusion of the trial on November 26. The court ultimately imposed a significantly heavier sentence.

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Judge Chokes Back Tears While Citing Citizens’ Courage in Defending Democracy

Presiding Judge Lee Jin-kwan appears visibly emotional during the first-instance sentencing hearing of former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo, after stating, “This outcome was made possible by the courage of citizens who confronted armed martial law troops with their bare hands and defended the National Assembly.”
(Photo courtesy of the Seoul Central District Court)

As the court handed down the unusually severe sentence, Presiding Judge Lee Jin-kwan drew attention for an emotional moment during the reading of the verdict. He referred to the “courage of ordinary citizens who confronted armed martial law troops with their bare hands” during the December 3 incident and was visibly moved, briefly unable to continue speaking.

Judge Lee read the prepared judgment in a calm and measured tone throughout the hearing. While explaining the reasoning behind the sentence, he acknowledged arguments made by Han and former President Yoon’s legal teams, noting that no fatalities occurred and that the insurrectionary actions ended within several hours.

He then paused and said, “However,” before continuing:

“That outcome was due above all to the courage of the citizens who stood unarmed against armed martial law forces and protected the National Assembly.”

At this point, Judge Lee struggled to continue for approximately six seconds, visibly holding back tears, before adjusting his glasses and resuming.

He went on to add:

“It was also made possible by the efforts of some politicians who swiftly entered the National Assembly and passed a resolution demanding the lifting of martial law; by soldiers and police officers who, recalling Korea’s painful history of insurrection, resisted unlawful orders—or, where resistance was impossible, complied only passively.”

Judge Lee emphasized the word “some” when referring to politicians, underscoring that responsibility did not lie broadly with all political actors. He concluded emphatically:

“This was never the result of the actions of those who participated in the December 3 insurrection.”

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Public Reaction: “Justice Finally Feels Alive”

Viewers watching the sentencing live responded strongly to the moment when Judge Lee briefly lost his composure, expressing empathy and a sense of emotional release.

One online commenter wrote, “Han Duck-soo sentenced to 23 years—I felt tears well up. After enduring so much brutality, this feels like comfort and vindication. Thank you, Judge Lee Jin-kwan.”

An economist wrote on his Facebook:

“When the judge said that there is no such thing as a ‘warning martial law,’ and that it ended quickly only because citizens stopped it with their bare hands, I nearly cried. This is the first time I’ve ever felt that way while watching a court verdict.”

Other social media users echoed similar sentiments, posting comments such as “I felt my nose sting several times listening to Judge Lee read the ruling,” and “This is what a judiciary should look like.”

韓国映画史に刻まれた存在、アン・ソンギ

俳優のイ・ジョンジェやチョン・ウソンら同僚俳優たちが、9日午前、ソウル中区の明洞聖堂で行われた故アン・ソンギ氏の告別式を終え、式場を後にしている。

映画そのものが人生だった国民的俳優、アン・ソンギ（安聖基）が5日、死去した。1957年の映画『黄昏列車（Twilight Train）』で5歳にしてデビューし、その後『クジラ狩り』（1984年）、『ツーカップス』シリーズ、『太白山脈』（1994年）、『酔画仙』（2002年）、『シルミド』（2003年）など、韓国映画史を代表する数々の名作を牽引してきた。忠武路（チュンムロ）を象徴する大スターだった。

所属事務所アーティストカンパニーによると、アン・ソンギは先月30日の午後、自宅で食事中に喉を詰まらせて倒れ、心肺蘇生（CPR）を受けながらソウル・龍山区の順天郷大学病院救急室に搬送されたが、回復には至らなかった。享年74歳だった。

彼は数年前から血液がんを患い、闘病を続けていた。最後の出演作は、李舜臣（イ・スンシン）を補佐した於英談（オ・ヨンダム）役を演じた『ノリャン：死の海』（2023年）である。

アン・ソンギは生涯をスクリーンの中で生きた俳優だった。笑うと深く刻まれるしわ、そしてユーモアと孤独を同時に宿した眼差しは、彼のトレードマークだった。韓国映像資料院によると、出演作はおよそ180本にのぼる。

1952年、朝鮮戦争の混乱のさなか大邱で生まれ、学業時代はソウルで過ごした。彼を演技の道へ導いたのは父アン・ファヨン氏だった。家族ぐるみの友人であったキム・ギヨン監督が『黄昏列車』に子役を必要としていた際、三人兄弟の末っ子を連れて行ったことが、「俳優アン・ソンギ」の始まりだった。

大きな瞳が印象的だった少年は、その後キム・ギヨン監督の『十代の反抗』（1959年）でスリ役を演じ、サンフランシスコ国際映画祭で少年特別演技賞を受賞した。これは韓国人として初の海外映画祭における演技賞受賞である。8歳のときには、キム・ギヨン監督の傑作『下女』（1960年）にも出演した。

10代の役が減ると、彼は空白期を迎える。中学3年のとき、イ・スンジェ、キム・ソンオク、チャン・ミンホら名優たちとともに、国立劇場の舞台『余剰人間』に立ったのを最後に、子役としての活動から退いた。芸能界を離れて過ごしたその時間は、後に庶民的な人物像を演じるための重要な土台となった。

東星高校在学中、ベトナム戦争への参戦を志し、韓国外国語大学ベトナム語学科に進学して学軍将校（ROTC）となったが、戦争は終結した。除隊後に映画界へ復帰し、1980年、イ・ジャンホ監督の『風吹く良き日』で、不器用な中華料理店の配達員トクベ役を演じ、大鐘賞新人男優賞を受賞した。

時代の不安や葛藤を映し出す作品に果敢に挑み続け、アン・ソンギは忠武路を代表する俳優へと成長した。イ・ウォンセ監督の『ちびが打ち上げた小さなボール』（1981年）、イム・グォンテク監督の『曼荼羅』（1981年）と『太白山脈』（1994年）、チョン・ジヨン監督の『白い戦争』（1992年）などで、大鐘賞や百想芸術大賞を席巻し、幅広い大衆的人気も獲得した。

彼は、アメリカンドリームを渇望する男（『深く青い夜』）、狂気に満ちた野球監督（『イ・ジャンホの外人球団』）、不遇なペンキ職人（『チルスとマンス』）、気弱なサラリーマン（『男はつらい』）、そして悪霊を祓う司祭（『退魔録』『サジャ』）など、実に多彩な人物像を演じてきた。

アン・ソンギは、「平凡」と「非凡」の両方を体現できる俳優だった。独特の自然体の演技によって、韓国リアリズム映画、社会派映画に深みと質感を与え続けた。

Korean Cinema Icon Ahn Sung-ki Dies at 74

The beloved national actor Ahn Sung-ki, for whom cinema was life itself, passed away on the 5th. He made his debut at the age of five with Twilight Train (1957) and went on to lead some of the most iconic works in Korean film history, including Whale Hunting (1984), the Two Cops series, Taebaek Mountains (1994), Chihwaseon (2002), and Silmido (2003). He was a towering star of Chungmuro.

According to his agency, Artist Company, Ahn collapsed at his home on the afternoon of the 30th of last month after choking on food. He received CPR and was transported to the emergency room at Soonchunhyang University Hospital in Yongsan-gu, Seoul, but ultimately did not recover. He was 74.

He had battled blood cancer for several years. His final screen appearance was in Noryang: Deadly Sea (2023), in which he portrayed Eo Yeong-dam, a figure who assisted Admiral Yi Sun-sin.

Ahn Sung-ki lived his entire life on film. The deep creases that formed when he smiled, and his gaze—at once playful and solitary—were his trademarks. According to the Korean Film Archive, he appeared in roughly 180 films.

Born in Daegu in 1952 amid the upheaval of the Korean War, he spent his school years in Seoul. The person who led him into acting was his father, Ahn Hwa-young. When director Kim Ki-young, a friend of the family, said he needed a child actor for Twilight Train, Ahn’s father brought his youngest son of three—marking the beginning of “actor Ahn Sung-ki.”

The boy, known for his strikingly large eyes, later won a special juvenile acting award at the San Francisco International Film Festival for his portrayal of a pickpocket in Kim Ki-young’s A Teenager’s Rebellion (1959). It was the first time a Korean actor received an acting award at an overseas film festival. He also appeared at the age of eight in Kim Ki-young’s masterpiece The Housemaid (1960).

As roles for teenagers dwindled, he entered a hiatus. In his third year of middle school, after appearing on the National Theater stage in the play The Surplus Human alongside revered senior actors such as Lee Soon-jae, Kim Seong-ok, and Jang Min-ho, he stepped away from child acting. The years he spent away from the entertainment industry later became a foundation for his nuanced portrayals of ordinary people.

While attending Dongsung High School, he intended to participate in the Vietnam War and enrolled in the Vietnamese Department at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies, joining the ROTC. But the war ended. After completing his service, he returned to the film industry and won the Grand Bell Award for Best New Actor in 1980 for his role as Deok-bae, an awkward Chinese restaurant deliveryman, in A Good Windy Day (directed by Lee Jang-ho).

One of the most iconic scenes from No Mercy(1999)—the film in which Ahn Sung-ki appeared—features a brutal fight in the rain between a hired killer (played by Ahn) and a detective, the two trading punches at close range. This scene was later echoed in The Matrix, starring Keanu Reeves, which is widely regarded as having drawn inspiration from it.

He rose to become one of Chungmuro’s defining stars by fearlessly taking on films that captured the anxieties of their time. With works such as A Small Ball Launched by a Dwarf (1981) by director Lee Won-se, Mandala (1981) and Taebaek Mountains (1994) by director Im Kwon-taek, and White Badge (1992) by director Jung Ji-young, he swept major honors including the Grand Bell Awards and the Baeksang Arts Awards, while also winning broad public affection.

Over the years, he portrayed an extraordinary range of characters: a man yearning for the American Dream (Deep Blue Night), a crazed baseball coach (Lee Jang-ho’s Baseball Team of Outsiders), an ill-fated house painter (Chilsu and Mansu), a timid salaryman (Men Are Tormented), and an exorcist priest (Toemarok and The Divine Fury), among many others.

Ahn Sung-ki was an actor who could embody both the “ordinary” and the “extraordinary.” With his signature naturalistic style, he gave depth and texture to Korean realism and socially conscious cinema.