OP-ED: Kim Jong-un, the June 25 Missiles, and the “Deadly and Destructive” Stance That Changes Everything

Targeting What Cannot Be Quickly Rebuilt

The military logic behind the special-mission warhead is to strike centers of gravity. Airfields cannot be rebuilt overnight. Destroyed ports can take weeks to become partially operational. Power plants are critical infrastructure whose repair—even with emergency crews—takes days or weeks depending on the extent of the damage. In the context of a high-intensity conflict, these delays can be decisive.

For North Korea, the goal is not to win a conventional war against South Korea and the United States—a war it would likely lose in the long run. The goal is to make the cost of military intervention high enough that no democratic government could politically justify it to its public. This is the same logic as nuclear deterrence, but applied at the tactical and conventional level.

Hwasong-11Ra: A Probable Identification

The tactical ballistic missile most likely identified during the June 25 tests is the Hwasong-11Ra—an upgraded version of the Hwasong-11 family, also known as the KN-23 in Western nomenclature. This missile is notable for its low, flattened trajectory—a characteristic that makes it more difficult to intercept with conventional missile defense systems. Its “Ra” designation suggests an advanced development iteration, with modifications to accuracy and warhead design.

The Hwasong-11 family has been one of the most frequently tested by North Korea since 2019. It has spawned multiple variants with different warheads, ranges, and trajectories. This internal diversification within a single missile family is characteristic of a military doctrine that seeks to increase the number of strike vectors to make missile defense more difficult to organize.

The Hwasong-11Ra. Another missile on the list. But there is something dizzying about this ever-growing list: 11A, 11B, 11C, 11Ra… Each new designation represents years of research, testing, and engineering. This is a military program advancing with a level of industrial consistency that many Western observers continue to underestimate. North Korea is not a regime struggling to survive that cobbles together rockets. It is an arms industry producing increasingly precise systems at a steady pace.

65 km: Seoul’s suburbs within range

The 155-mm self-propelled howitzer tested with long-range shells may pose the most immediate threat to South Korea’s civilian population. With a range of 65 km from the Military Demarcation Line, this howitzer can reach Bundang-gu in Seongnam, Dongtan New City in Hwaseong, and Osan in Gyeonggi Province. These are densely populated cities, residential areas, and commercial centers. The 240-mm rocket launcher, with a range of 90 km, can reach Pyeongtaek and Cheonan—where the U.S. Osan Air Base lies directly in its line of fire.

The distance from the Military Demarcation Line to the center of Seoul is approximately 50 km. With the long-range shells tested on June 25, the South Korean capital is, in theory, within direct range of North Korean artillery. This is not entirely new—North Korean artillery has threatened Seoul for decades—but the increased accuracy and range of these systems represent a qualitative escalation of the threat.

Automation as a Force Multiplier

What distinguishes the systems tested on June 25, 2026, from their predecessors is Kim’s emphasis on automation. The 240-mm rocket launcher incorporates an autonomous guidance system. The self-propelled howitzer boasts new precision capabilities. This automation is not merely cosmetic—it reduces the need for exposed personnel, speeds up the firing cycle, improves accuracy on specific targets, and makes it more difficult to neutralize artillery batteries because they can reposition more quickly.

Kim himself articulated the ambition: “We will ensure to our adversaries, as soon as possible, that all our long-range strike assets have been replaced with improved systems. ” This is a statement of a timeline, not just of ambition. It means that modernization is underway, that it is planned, and that it has a defined timeframe. For military planners in Seoul and Washington, this is operational information, not a rhetorical stance.

Automation. Kim speaks of it as a doctrinal principle, not as a technological gimmick. And he is right to do so. An automated army fires faster, redeploys faster, and strikes with greater precision. In the context of a confrontation with U.S. forces that are technologically superior but structurally dependent on their logistics—reinforcements, bases, ports—the automation of the North Korean threat is exactly what is needed to maximize damage during the critical window of the initial phase of a conflict.

“Deadly and Destructive”: A Self-Definition

Kim Jong-un’s statements during the June 25 tests are worth reading in their entirety, not only for their military implications but also for their doctrinal consistency. He said: “Our Party’s self-defense policy is not simply a matter of strengthening basic defensive functions based on defensive capabilities. It is a policy that establishes a lethal and destructive offensive posture to ensure that no enemy can stand against us. This is the ‘defensive concept’ to which we refer in military buildup and action.”

This formulation is philosophically significant. Kim redefines “defense” as a maximal offensive posture. This is not a contradiction—it is a coherent doctrine: the best defense is to ensure that the enemy never dares to attack because the cost would be unbearable. This is the logic of deterrence taken to its conventional and nuclear extremes. And it is a doctrine with historical resonance: it resembles what Soviet planners articulated during the Cold War, but with much smaller arsenals and a capacity for faster escalation.

Constant Anxiety as a Goal of War

Kim also stated: “Keeping our enemies in a state of constant anxiety and fear becomes, in itself, a critical aspect of the exercise of war deterrence.” ” This statement is remarkable for its candor. It explicitly states that the purpose of North Korea’s arsenal is not merely to deter an attack—it is to keep the adversary in a state of constant psychological anxiety. This is not bluster. It is an accurate description of the asymmetric deterrence strategy that North Korea has been practicing for decades.

The psychological impact of the June 25 tests was immediate: South Korean confusion over the delayed disclosure, speculation about possible gaps in surveillance, and anxious calculations of the ranges that cover the suburbs of Seoul. Kim watched his tests and saw exactly what he wanted to produce: anxiety in the adversary. Mission accomplished.

“To make our enemies live in constant anxiety and fear.” ” This statement is disarmingly honest. Most leaders cloak their threats in the language of legitimate defense. Kim is telling the truth: his arsenal exists to psychologically terrorize his neighbors. This transparency is not weakness—it is confidence. He knows that no one can respond to him directly. And this impunity allows him to state his intentions without pretense.

A Political Framework Before the Missiles

The June 25 tests were not decided upon in forty-eight hours. They were part of a political framework outlined during the 9th Plenary Meeting of the Central Committee of the Workers’ Party, 2nd Session, held from June 20 to 22, 2026. During this plenary session, Kim Jong-un outlined the military doctrine that would guide the tests: automation, long range, and ultra-precision. He also criticized South Korea for its pursuit of nuclear-powered submarines and the joint South Korea–U.S. military exercises, describing these developments as factors that “severely aggravate the situation on the peninsula.”

This sequence—the party plenary session, criticism of adversarial allies, and missile tests three days later—is not accidental. It is orchestrated to demonstrate that Pyongyang’s military decisions follow a coherent doctrine, discussed at the highest levels of the party before being carried out. It is also a message intended for domestic consumption: it tells North Korea’s elites that the military program follows a political logic, not improvisation.

South Korean Nuclear Submarines as a Pretext

Kim’s criticism of South Korea’s nuclear-powered submarines warrants analysis. South Korea is indeed developing advanced submarine capabilities, in a context where the North Korean threat—and, to a lesser extent, the Chinese threat—justifies significant defense investments. For Kim, presenting these developments as an “escalation” of the situation is a mirror argument: I am the one under threat, so I am the one who must defend myself.

This “mirror” logic is a constant feature of North Korean communications. It presents every military development as a defensive response to pre-existing enemy aggression, never as an aggressive initiative. It is rhetorically effective for a domestic audience and for certain international actors who want to believe in the rationality of the Pyongyang regime. But it does not stand up to factual scrutiny: it was North Korea that tested more than ten projectiles on June 25, not South Korea.

North Korea always portrays itself as the victim striking back. It’s a convenient narrative. But if we look at who tested missiles on June 25, who launched more than ten projectiles in less than an hour, who photographed and publicized its tests to maximize the psychological impact—it’s Pyongyang. Not Seoul. Not Washington. Not Tokyo. The symmetry of the North Korean narrative is a fiction that democracies must refuse to validate.

Seoul did not comment until after Rodong Sinmun

One of the most troubling aspects of the June 25, 2026, tests is the sequence of disclosures. The launches took place between 7:27 a.m. and 8:20 a.m. (Korean time). Rodong Sinmun—the North Korean state newspaper—reported on them on June 26. It was only after this publication that the South Korean Ministry of Defense confirmed that it had detected and tracked the projectiles in real time alongside U.S. forces—though it did not disclose details about the types of projectiles.

This sequence of events caused confusion. It fueled speculation about possible gaps in the alliance’s surveillance systems. The ministry’s deputy spokesperson, Lee Kyung-ho, had to step in to clarify: U.S. and South Korean forces had indeed detected and tracked the projectiles in real time. But the lack of an immediate announcement—contrary to standard practice for ballistic missile launches—remained unexplained. One theory put forward is that the mix of ballistic systems and multiple rockets during the same sequence may have created confusion regarding the classification of the projectiles.

Implications for the Credibility of the Defense

Seoul’s delayed disclosure has implications that go beyond the technical issue of surveillance. It affects the credibility of South Korea’s defense posture in the eyes of the public. If authorities do not immediately report North Korean launches, citizens do not know they have been threatened—and cannot trust the government’s ability to inform them in the event of an actual attack. This trust is an essential component of deterrence.

For U.S. military planners overseeing the U.S.-South Korea alliance amid rising tensions on the peninsula, this communication sequence serves as a wake-up call. Real-time detection is not enough if communication with the public and allies is not immediate and transparent. This is a lesson that June 25, 2026, taught in a way that should have been avoided.

There is an irony in the fact that North Korea announced its own tests before South Korea did. Kim wanted the world to know. Seoul hesitated. This contrast speaks to the military communication cultures of the two regimes—and to how one seems more comfortable with strategic transparency regarding its offensive capabilities than the other.

The Triangular Dynamics

The tests on June 25, 2026, are taking place against a particularly tense regional geopolitical backdrop. North Korea has supplied troops and ammunition to Russia for the war in Ukraine—in exchange, according to converging analyses, for military technology, particularly in the fields of missiles and satellites. This relationship with Moscow strengthens North Korea’s technical capabilities while providing it with a partner that has an interest in ensuring that Pyongyang remains a thorn in the side of U.S. allies in Asia.

At the same time, China remains North Korea’s main economic partner—the source of the majority of its imports and exports. Beijing has historically exerted a moderating influence on Pyongyang when provocations became too embarrassing. But against the backdrop of the 11th joint Sino-Russian naval patrol on June 27, 2026, and growing tensions with Washington, this Chinese restraint is less evident than in the past.

Trump, Denuclearization, and Diplomatic Failure

Kim Jong-un has expanded his arsenal since the collapse of negotiations with U.S. President Donald Trump in 2019. The 2019 Hanoi summit—where the two leaders failed to agree on the terms of a deal—served as a catalyst for an acceleration of North Korea’s weapons program. For Kim, the lesson was clear: diplomacy yields no concrete results for North Korea as long as the United States demands denuclearization as a precondition. And a North Korea that is not denuclearized but heavily armed has far greater leverage than one that is.

Analyst Yang Moo-jin, former president of the University of North Korean Studies, described the June 25 tests as “a show of force directed at the South Korean capital region.” ” This is not war. It is strategic communication directed at several audiences simultaneously: Seoul, Washington, Beijing, and the North Korean people themselves.

In 2019, Trump met with Kim in Hanoi and left empty-handed. Since then, North Korea has developed missiles that are more accurate, have longer ranges, and come in a wider variety. A 5,000-metric-ton destroyer. Military ties with Russia. A declared offensive doctrine. If Trump hopes to revive diplomacy with Pyongyang, he now faces a North Korea that is significantly stronger than it was in 2019. The deal-maker’s tools don’t work any better against an adversary that has been arming itself while talks dragged on.

UN Resolutions and Their Documented Ineffectiveness

North Korea’s ballistic missile tests violate United Nations Security Council resolutions. This statement, repeated after every test for years, has lost most of its rhetorical impact. Russia and China regularly block any tightening of sanctions in the Security Council. Existing sanctions are circumvented through opaque trade channels. And North Korea continues to test, develop, and deploy.

This record of ineffectiveness is not a criticism of international diplomacy per se—it is an acknowledgment that the available tools are not suited to the nature of the problem. North Korea is a self-sufficient state, ruled by a regime whose survival does not depend on the world’s approval. Sanctions that cripple an open economy do not have the same effect on an economy where most citizens already live in extreme poverty and total isolation.

What the international community can still do

Faced with this reality, the international community has a few effective levers at its disposal, even if their impact is limited. Strengthen missile defense systems in South Korea and Japan—THAAD, Patriot PAC-3, and Aegis naval systems—to make it less certain that North Korean strikes will reach their targets. Maintain the joint U.S.-South Korea military exercises that Kim portrays as a provocation because he knows they serve as a credible deterrent. And finally, work toward closer coordination among Pacific allies—the United States, South Korea, Japan, and Australia—to ensure a coherent and swift response to North Korean provocations.

None of these measures is a definitive solution. North Korea will not disarm voluntarily. It cannot be forced to disarm from the outside without the risk of a conflict whose human cost would be catastrophic. The realistic goal is not denuclearization in the short term—it is managing a threat stabilized at a level that deterrence can contain.

I know this paragraph will be read as pessimistic realism. Perhaps. But I prefer a realism that guides effective policies to an idealism that produces unenforced resolutions. A nuclear-armed North Korea is a fact. Denuclearization is a wish. Between the two lies a space for an effective deterrence policy that our democracies have not yet fully defined. That is where the work must be done.

A Regime in Expansion, Not in Decline

An analysis of Kim Jong-un’s actions in June 2026—the commissioning of the destroyer Choe Hyon on June 23, the party plenary session of June 20–22, and the missile tests on June 25—paints a picture of a regime that is not shrinking. It is expanding. Its naval power is growing. Its offensive doctrine is well-defined and being implemented. Its weapons systems are gaining in precision, range, and automation.

This expansion is not limitless. North Korea faces severe economic constraints, an undernourished population, and a dependence on China—and now Russia—to maintain its capabilities. But in the military sphere—which is the only area where the regime is truly investing—the trend has been upward for several years. And the tests on June 25, 2026, confirm that this trajectory has not faltered.

Kim Jong-un: The Heir Who Has Surpassed His Father and Grandfather

Kim Jong-un took power in 2011 under circumstances in which many observers believed the regime was fragile, that impending purges would destabilize it, and that internal inequalities would eventually erode it. Fifteen years later, he stands at the helm of a state equipped with nuclear weapons, an arsenal of intercontinental ballistic missiles, its first deep-sea destroyer, military technologies acquired through Russia, and a declared and unapologetic offensive doctrine. Not only has he consolidated his power—he has also significantly expanded the arsenal bequeathed to him by his predecessors.

This reality is uncomfortable for analysts who speak of the “North Korean problem” as a static, managed, or contained situation. It is not. It is evolving, in a direction of which June 25, 2026, is the most recent manifestation. And every test that goes unanswered by any significant structural response from the international community reinforces Kim’s conviction that his strategy is the right one: arming to deter, threatening to stabilize, and testing to reassure his people that the enemy does not dare to attack.

Fifteen years in power. An arsenal that has expanded considerably. A declared offensive doctrine. Partners in Russia and China. Kim Jong-un has built something his father and grandfather did not have: strategic credibility based on actual capability, not just rhetoric. And that changes the parameters of everything we can do in response to him.

North Korea, Russia, Iran, China—A Convergence of Interests

The tests on June 25, 2026, cannot be analyzed in isolation. They are part of a broader dynamic in which North Korea, Russia, Iran, and, to some extent, China share a common interest in weakening the U.S.-led international order. North Korea is supplying ammunition to Russia for use in Ukraine. Iran is supplying drones. China is providing technological components and economic support. Russia is supplying military technology and diplomatic cover at the Security Council.

This convergence is not a formal alliance. It has no headquarters, no treaty, and no unified command. But it has real effects on international stability: Ukraine is fighting against a Russia armed by North Korea. The Middle East is being destabilized by Iranian proxies. The South China Sea and the Sea of Japan are under strain due to Sino-Russian and North Korean demonstrations of force. These theaters are interconnected. And democracies that seek to manage them separately always find themselves lagging behind adversaries who manage them together.

The Message to U.S. Allies in Asia

The June 25 tests send a specific message to U.S. allies in Asia: the U.S. security umbrella is not free. It leaves the U.S. open to retaliation. The presence of U.S. bases in South Korea—in Osan and Pyeongtaek—makes these facilities priority targets under North Korea’s doctrine of special-mission warheads. For South Korean and Japanese leaders who must explain to their publics the value of the alliance with Washington, this reality is an ongoing challenge.

It also serves as a reminder for Washington itself, which must calibrate its commitment in Asia amid a context where its military resources are stretched across multiple fronts—support for Ukraine, a presence in the Mediterranean, and a presence in the Pacific. Kim’s tests add to this pressure by signaling that U.S. allies in Asia remain in the crosshairs, regardless of whatever distractions may be unfolding elsewhere.

The arc of the threat stretches from Kyiv to Pyongyang, passing through Tehran and Beijing. This is not a coordinated conspiracy—it is a convergence of interests. And in the face of this convergence, democracies need a response that is as comprehensive as the threat itself. Not piecemeal. Not sequential. Comprehensive. Every strike on Saky, every North Korean missile test, every Sino-Russian patrol—it’s the same system testing us. It’s up to us to respond in kind.

Deterrence as a Permanent Mode of Governance

What is striking about Kim Jong-un’s statements on June 25, 2026, is the absence of any end in sight. He does not speak of a world in which North Korea would be secure because its enemies have accepted its terms. He speaks of a world in which North Korea is permanently in a state of maximum offensive readiness to deter any attack. This is deterrence as a permanent mode of governance—not as a step toward normalization.

This vision is consistent with the regime’s trajectory since 2019: the failure of diplomacy with Trump was followed by an acceleration of the nuclear and ballistic missile programs, not by a doctrinal reevaluation. The conclusion Kim drew from Hanoi is that denuclearization is never in the regime’s interest—because it deprives the regime of its only effective deterrent against the United States.

Constant Testing as Symbolic Governance

There is also a domestic dimension to Kim’s missile tests. Each successful test is presented to the North Korean people as proof that the regime can protect them, that the economic sacrifices imposed in the name of the nuclear and ballistic missile program are justified, and that Kim’s leadership is legitimate because it produces measurable military results. This is a legitimization of power through military performance—a form of symbolic governance that has no equivalent in democracies.

The date of June 25 amplifies this internal symbolic effect. Commemorating the anniversary of the 1950 war with modern missile tests sends a message to the North Korean people: we remember where we came from, we have survived, we have armed ourselves, we are stronger than we were in 1950, and our enemies know it. It is a narrative of national continuity and technical victory over historical adversity. And even though this narrative is deeply distorted—since it was North Korea that invaded the South in 1950, not the other way around—it is powerful for a population that is never presented with any other version of events.

There is something troubling about the fact that missile tests also serve to legitimize the regime in the eyes of its own people. This means that Kim cannot stop—not only because the United States is threatening him, but because his own people have been conditioned to view every missile as proof of the regime’s strength. Stopping the tests would be an admission of weakness both internally and externally. It’s a trap that’s hard to escape, for him as well as for us.

What does June 25 really mean?

This test conveys several messages at once. It tells South Korea: Your capital and your bases are within our range. It tells the United States: Your bases in Asia are designated targets in our doctrine. It tells China and Russia: We are demonstrating our capabilities; don’t forget that we are a valuable partner. It tells the North Korean people: we are making progress; the program is working; the leadership is legitimate. And it tells the world: North Korea is not a frozen issue. It is a problem that is slowly and systematically worsening with every test, every articulated doctrine, and every new system deployed.

This “language of missiles” has no immediate diplomatic translation. There is no magic formula that converts Kim’s “lethal offensive posture” into a denuclearization agreement. But there is a language of response: deterrence, missile defense, strong alliances, transparency regarding detections—and the refusal to pretend that the problem is under control when it clearly is not.

What the West Must Hear

The West, with its eyes fixed on Ukraine, the Middle East, and trade tensions with China, must also heed what June 25, 2026, is telling it. The North Korean threat is not on hold while crises unfold elsewhere. It is advancing. It is modernizing. It is developing its doctrine. And if the Pacific democracies—South Korea, Japan, Australia, and the United States—do not coordinate their defensive responses with the same consistency that Kim applies to his offensive program, they will always find themselves reacting rather than anticipating.

This isn’t the end of the world. It isn’t an imminent war. But it is a wake-up call that the missiles launched on June 25, 2026, deliver with a clarity that Kim Jong-un himself described unambiguously: “To assure our adversaries, as soon as possible, that all our long-range strike assets have been replaced with upgraded systems.” He is keeping his promise. It is up to us to keep ours.

One more test. One more doctrine. Missiles that are longer-range, more accurate, and more automated. I know these words may sound like yet another alarm in a world saturated with alarms. But there is a difference between a rhetorical alarm and one based on data. The data from June 25, 2026, deserves to be taken seriously—not with panic, but with the analytical precision that Kim himself applies to his own program. The threat is methodical. The response must be as well.

What the Regime Is Really Building

Kim Jong-un isn’t just building missiles. He is building an architecture of fear—a system in which his neighbors and their allies live in a state of calculated, constant anxiety that drains cognitive, political, and military resources that could have been devoted elsewhere. This architecture has real strategic value, regardless of the actual use of the weapons.

And this may be the most profound lesson of June 25, 2026. Beyond the 240-mm rocket launcher, beyond the Hwasong-11Ra, beyond the special-mission warhead—there is a doctrine that has been tested, validated, and publicly announced. A doctrine that states: the enemy’s anxiety is in itself a victory. Kim achieved this objective on June 25. The question is whether the Pacific democracies will allow him to continue achieving it, or whether they will devise a response that strips him of this psychological leverage.

The architecture of fear. That is what Kim has built, more solidly than any concrete building in Pyongyang. And this architecture stands because we let it stand—because our response is always reactive, always one doctrine behind, always calculating ranges after tests rather than before. Breaking this dynamic does not require missiles superior to his. It requires a consistent response that we have not yet found.

What the June 25 test requires as a follow-up

June 25, 2026, yielded clear evidence: a 90-km rocket launcher, a tactical missile with a specialized warhead, a 65-km howitzer, a declared offensive doctrine, and a belated disclosure by Seoul. This evidence demands a response that matches its clarity. Enhanced missile defense exercises. Immediate and transparent communication from Seoul during future tests. Closer coordination among Pacific allies. And a thorough reevaluation of what it means to manage a growing ballistic missile threat with no diplomatic solution in sight.

This is no easy task. It is a necessary one. And when it comes to security, the difference between the two is often the difference between what can be avoided and what can no longer be avoided. Kim Jong-un did his part on June 25. He tested, declared, publicized, and provoked. It is now up to his adversaries to decide whether their response will match the clarity of his doctrine—or whether it will continue to be a belated and partial echo of each new show of force.

June 25, 2026. More than ten missiles. Three distinct systems. A doctrine declared without ambiguity. I don’t know if the next war on the peninsula will happen. But I do know that if it does, it will be preceded by tests exactly like this one—and that we won’t be able to claim we weren’t warned. The June 25 test is a warning. The question is whether we’ll hear it soon enough.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist