[Kiho Han's Column] What My Hometown Women's Soccer Team Left Behind

Dr. Kiho Han, Director (Associate Professor) of the Research Laboratory at the Ajou University Institute for Unification Studies and Affiliated Research Fellow at CUKPE

The match began at 7 p.m. on May 20 amidst rain falling at a rate of 40mm per hour. While watching the fierce battle unfold, I encountered hybrid emotions unlike anything I had experienced before. Where did that internal turmoil come from, and how did it reach my personal senses? This question was significant to me as a researcher studying the issue of division.

The brief visit to the South by the North Korean "My Hometown" women's soccer team, which had caused quite a stir in domestic and international media for some time, was sufficient time to bring to the surface the multifaceted emotions of our society, which lives under the immense disease of division. To put it another way, it was a match played by a club team from the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. Last January, Suwon, South Korea, and Wuhan, China, had already applied to the AFC to host the AWCL (Asian Women's Champions League) semifinals and finals. Above all, thanks to Suwon FC Women's crushing 4-0 victory over Wuhan Jiangda in the quarterfinals at the end of March, the hosting of the inter-Korean club semifinal in Suwon was realized. The behind-the-scenes efforts of AFC President Sheikh Salman, who met with North Korean Football Association President Kim Il-guk in Vancouver, Canada, a month later, also proved effective. From May 4, when the embargo on the "My Hometown Team"'s participation in the semifinals was lifted, until the news of the victory parade in Pyongyang was reported in the May 27 issue of the Rodong Sinmun, what was left behind instead of the championship trophy they took home?

It had been seven years and five months since the International Table Tennis Federation (ITTF) World Tour Grand Finals in Incheon in December 2018 that a North Korean athletic delegation had visited South Korea. During that time, the situation both inside and outside the Korean Peninsula was turbulent. In February 2019, the highly anticipated Hanoi summit between North Korea and the U.S. collapsed, and the aftermath of the pandemic swept across the entire world, including the Korean Peninsula. On June 16 of the following year, North Korea blew up the Inter-Korean Liaison Office in Kaesong and firmly locked the doors to denuclearization negotiations. Following the outbreak of the Russo-Russian War in February 2022, North Korea focused on aligning itself with Russia and did not hesitate to deploy troops to Kursk. In late 2023, as Kim Jong-un defined the relationship between the South and the North not as one of "compatriots" but as one of "hostile two states," the names "Republic of Korea" and "South Korea" began to be invoked in earnest. The curtain rose on a hostile "Jo-Han" relationship in the northern region of the Korean Peninsula. The following year, in 2024, as the North repeatedly sent down balloons of debris in response to anti-North leaflets flying from the South, loudspeaker broadcasts between the two Koreas—a symbol of the Cold War—resumed. Residents of border regions were forced to endure their suffering solely through tears. In January 2025, immediately after the inauguration of the Trump administration's second term, tariff wars and competition for technological hegemony emerged as key national issues. Just as the existing grammar of the international order was shifting, South Koreans elected a new president two years early. Despite gestures of reconciliation, North Korea's cold attitude persisted. At the very moment the media doubted whether my hometown team would participate in the AWCL Suwon tournament, a total of 35 members of the women's soccer team made a surprise appearance at Incheon Airport via China. Only the cheers of some displaced persons' groups welcoming the somewhat excited players filled the arrival hall, but perhaps due to the pressure of having to lift the championship trophy on an away trip to a 'hostile nation,' they did not respond at all. By then, the state relations between the North and South had already been reflected in the North's revised constitution.

Domestic media cited North Korea’s rigid hostile state stance, its determination to sever ties with the South, and the precedent of the boycott during the Tokyo Summer Olympics as reasons why the feasibility of the tournament was viewed as uncertain. If so, why did the "My Hometown Team" come to a foreign land? A hint can be found in the May 27th edition of the Rodong Sinmun, which states, "The women's soccer players of the 'My Hometown Team,' who displayed the majesty of Juche Korea with a winning gold medal and proudly waved the flag of our Republic, departed from Pyongyang International Airport aboard a bus adorned with splendid flowers." Immediately after the semi-finals and finals, the "My Hometown Team" sought out the North Korean flag first. Since the Kim Jong-un regime came to power, in the process of striving to become a normal state, the concept of the "Great Socialist Family" has expanded into "Our Nation First," and the North Korean flag serves as the nation's primary symbol. They likely judged that the sight of the "My Hometown Team," a favorite for the championship, defeating the Suwon and Tokyo teams on enemy soil and returning home in glory was a challenge worth undertaking. On the other hand, according to the AWCL 2025-2026 regulations, withdrawing during the tournament stage carried the high likelihood of a fine of at least $100,000 and a ban from participating in AFC-organized competitions for at least one season. For North Korea, which had experienced restrictions on participation in the Beijing Olympics and a weakening of its competitiveness in international competitions due to the boycott of the Tokyo Olympics, the penalties resulting from a withdrawal would have been a significant burden.

Furthermore, amidst the atmosphere of their younger team returning with the championship trophy from the U-17 Women's Asian Cup, withdrawing could have been a decision that poured cold water on the mood. Above all, the sports policy under the Kim Jong-un era can be summarized by the goals of a "sports fever," "building a sports powerhouse," and "becoming a sports advanced nation." Ri Il-yu, the head coach of the Naegohyang team, also cited the "reserve coaching system" (a state-led, specialized youth development system) as the secret to North Korea's women's soccer prowess in response to a South Korean reporter's question; this aligns with the sports policy of strengthening the coaching system through the establishment of the State Sports Guidance Committee and improving the treatment of athletes to foster elite players. Although limited, for North Korea, the internationalization of sports and achievements in international competitions at the age and club team levels serve as crucial propaganda tools in the process of upholding "our nation first" ideology and becoming a normal state. Against this backdrop, the North Korean "My Hometown" team chose to travel to Suwon after deliberating between "justifications not to go" and "practical benefits that necessitate going." This decision was made just about two weeks before the tournament.

This imminent decision did not provide us with sufficient conditions to welcome the Pyongyang "My Hometown" team as a single club team. The media became fixated on the figure of seven years and five months, and every move of the team—including their hotel and training grounds—was broadcast live. At the press conference, a farce ensued when the team was denied an answer after their country was referred to as "North Korea." The Suwon FC Women team, assigned to the same hotel as the "My Hometown" team, suffered the inconvenience of being moved to a different accommodation for unclear reasons. Our government provided tickets for the semi-finals and finals to support joint cheering by private organizations. We accepted North Korea's hostile stance with hospitality. The moment the female players of the same age group, who had wiped away tears and promised to reunite at the disbandment ceremony of the unified women's ice hockey team during the PyeongChang Olympics, appeared before us with expressionless faces, latent political and national rhetoric came into play. The internal turmoil and hybrid emotions—such as excitement, caution, and pity—felt by those watching the fierce battle in the rain were likely based on this. The spectators let out a series of pitiful exclamations whenever players from both teams fell to the ground. The support from displaced people for their hometown teams was public, yet within an acceptable range. However, regarding whether Suwon FC Women fully capitalized on their home advantage in the knockout stage, it is necessary to consider the possibilities and limitations of nationalism superimposed on club competitions.

Meanwhile, it is interesting that the North Korean authorities sent national-level club players, whom they had painstakingly nurtured, to South Korea, an enemy nation, based paradoxically on a fundamental trust in South Korea's stadiums, training conditions, accommodations, food, training, administration, safety, and overall support systems. Regardless of the political situation, the event confirmed the possibility of coexistence between North Korean passports and certificates of entry into the South, and set a precedent for administrative procedures for the delegations of both sides in international competitions held on the Korean Peninsula. The sight of the club players from both teams competing under common rules at Suwon Sports Complex served as a milestone for the South and the North to aspire to. The handshake between Suwon FC Women's No. 17 Lee Yu-jin and Naegohyang Women's Football Club's No. 20 Kim Kyung-young immediately after the semi-final match is likely to be talked about for a long time amidst the cold inter-Korean relations.

(This article was originally published as a column in Aju News in Korean and translated into English with the help of Google Translate. The views expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not represent the official stance of the center.)