Remembering Lee Hong-koo: A Statesman and Scholar

Lee Hong-koo, a respected elder statesman and scholar of South Korea, passed away on May 5, 2026, at the age of 92.

Lee was a prominent figure in academia, politics, and diplomacy, playing a significant role during critical junctures in modern South Korean history. Born in 1934 in Kaesong, he attended Gyeonggi High School and studied at Seoul National University, Emory University, and Yale University. After returning to Korea, he served as a professor in the Department of Political Science at Seoul National University for 20 years, mentoring future leaders. He held various key positions, including Minister of Unification under the Roh Tae-woo administration, Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Unification under the Kim Young-sam administration, and Prime Minister under the Kim Dae-jung administration, making him a rare figure who served in three different governments after democratization.

His passing signifies more than the loss of a former prime minister; it marks the departure of an intellectual who maintained the dignity of public discourse and a sense of balance in governance as South Korea navigated the tumultuous waters of industrialization, democratization, division, the Cold War, globalization, and financial crises.

Lee Hong-koo is difficult to define in a single phrase. He was a scholar, diplomat, prime minister, politician, and writer, but above all, he was a gentleman who upheld the dignity of public language. He was not a politician who raised his voice to overpower others or a fighter who won by cornering opponents. Yet, his words left a lasting impact because they were grounded in scholarship, moderation, and a profound consideration for the nation.

As a professor at Seoul National University, he was a leading scholar of Western political thought. His lectures, which spanned from Plato to the political theology of the Middle Ages, the social contract theory of modernity, and the long history of liberalism and democracy, were described as intellectual dramas. His classes were dynamic, his scholarship dignified, and his words powerful. He demonstrated that politics is not merely a struggle for power but a discipline that questions the fate of humanity and community.

Lee's legacy is intertwined with both grand historical narratives and personal connections. His father's birthplace was in the modest village of Odae-ri in Sangju, North Gyeongsang Province. The fact that a man born in Kaesong, who studied at Yale, and walked through the halls of power in the Blue House, the Prime Minister's Office, and the embassy in Washington, had roots in a simple place like Odae-ri reminds us that his life was not just a record of power and positions but a long journey intertwined with family, hometown, roots, and memories.

Lee was a foundational figure in South Korean political science, having served as a professor for 20 years. He earned his Ph.D. in political science from Yale and was a rare intellectual capable of interpreting both Western political thought and the realities of Korean politics. At that time, South Korean society was entangled in the aftermath of war, authoritarianism, the Cold War, division, industrialization, and democratization. In such an era, political science was not merely theoretical; it was a practical discipline questioning how to build a nation, control power, and harmonize freedom with order. Lee's political science was precisely at that intersection.

He entered public service in 1988 with the advent of the Roh Tae-woo administration, taking on the role of Minister of Unification. He did not view inter-Korean relations as a simple ideological confrontation. Instead, he contemplated the long-term and gradual restructuring of order on the Korean Peninsula beyond the walls of the Cold War. His proposal for a 'Korean Commonwealth' later became the foundation for the Korean ethnic community unification plan.

One of his notable contributions was the Korean Ethnic Community Unification Plan announced in 1989. This plan advocated for a gradual and step-by-step approach to unification under the three principles of independence, peace, and democracy, moving beyond the logic of confrontation and absorption.

Importantly, this was not a unilateral vision of one political faction but a unification policy developed through bipartisan consensus.

This aspect of Lee's political philosophy is telling. He did not speak of unification in incendiary terms. He did not consume unification as a radical slogan. Instead, he sought to design unification in the language of institutions, agreements, peace, and democracy. He understood the pain of division but was not hasty, and while he believed in the necessity of unification, he did not ignore reality. This was the strength of a scholar-turned-public servant. He focused on structure over emotion, valued institutions over slogans, and trusted consensus over confrontation.

Under the Kim Young-sam administration, Lee was again appointed as Minister of Unification and Deputy Prime Minister, eventually becoming Prime Minister in December 1994. This was a tumultuous period for the civilian government, tasked with establishing democratic institutions after military authoritarianism, embracing globalization, and managing both the potential and crises in inter-Korean relations. Notably, a summit between the two Koreas was nearly realized in 1994 but was thwarted by the sudden death of Kim Il-sung, marking a pivotal moment in modern Korean history.

For Lee, the role of Prime Minister was not merely an honor. He had to manage the national disaster of the Sampoong Department Store collapse. His prompt response to the scene during an official dinner illustrated that he did not merely speak of responsibility. Reflecting on his tenure, he later remarked, “I felt more responsibility than achievement.” This statement encapsulates his view of public service: it is a position of accountability before it is a position of prestige. Power is something to be shouldered before it is exercised.

Lee entered politics in 1996 as a representative of the New Korea Party and became a member of the 15th National Assembly. He also ran for the presidential nomination but withdrew midway, realizing the formidable barriers of real-world politics. He expressed a desire to engage in policy discussions, lamenting that the competition in politics often failed to properly assess the merits of policies. This sentiment remains relevant today. Current South Korean politics often prioritize factions over policies, attacks over designs, and electoral calculations over accountability. Thus, Lee's setbacks are not merely failures; they testify to how difficult it has been for Korean politics to embrace dignified policy competition.

After the inauguration of the Kim Dae-jung administration, Lee was once again called to serve the nation. In the wake of the financial crisis, South Korea urgently needed to restore its international credibility. President Kim Dae-jung requested that Lee, a representative of the New Korea Party and a presidential candidate, take on the role of ambassador to the United States. This was not an easy political choice. However, he set aside personal discomfort in the face of national crisis. Although he represented a conservative party, he accepted the ambassadorship under a progressive government, prioritizing the nation over political affiliation. He placed the needs of the country above his political history.

This moment exemplifies the stature of Lee Hong-koo. He was able to serve in three different administrations—Roh Tae-woo, Kim Young-sam, and Kim Dae-jung—after democratization. This was not merely a result of political maneuvering; it stemmed from the trust that transcended party lines, a sense of balance in governance, and the ability to set aside personal interests in times of crisis.

Lee's conservatism was not narrow or factional. It was a conservatism of dignity, moderation, and institutions. He sought to prioritize reason over anger in politics. Rather than escalating conflicts, he aimed to mediate them, valuing balance over ideological excess. In today's divided political landscape, his brand of conservatism stands out even more. Conservatism is not about clinging to the past; it is about maintaining institutions and responsibilities to prevent the community from crumbling. Lee embodied this principle as a politician.

Even after leaving public office, he remained active. As an advisor to the JoongAng Ilbo, he wrote the 'Lee Hong-koo Column,' offering dignified insights on political issues, inter-Korean relations, and diplomatic matters. Through the Seoul International Forum, he proposed alternatives to international and security issues. He remained a scholar until the end, a knowledgeable voice, and a guardian of dialogue.

He particularly emphasized decentralization and dialogue. He believed that distributing the excessive powers concentrated in the presidency would enhance the overall capacity of the nation. This was not merely a call for constitutional reform; it was a vision to strengthen democracy through the restraint of power and the distribution of responsibility. He trusted sustainable institutions over strong leaders, valuing the balance of institutions over the goodwill of individuals. This conclusion stemmed from both the intuition of a political scientist and the experience of a public servant.

Lee Hong-koo was indeed a rare type of leader. He transitioned from academia to politics without losing his scholarly integrity, stood at the center of power without sacrificing his dignity, and engaged in party politics while maintaining the balance of a national elder. He lacked the language of harsh rhetoric but possessed a deep persuasive voice. He did not adopt an attitude of dominance but instead embraced a posture of listening. He exhibited the restraint of a scholar rather than the coldness of a strategist.

Today, we are not merely bidding farewell to a politician; we are parting with an era of political civility. He stood quietly yet responsibly at various positions while South Korea traversed the paths of war, division, authoritarianism, democratization, the Cold War, post-Cold War, financial crises, and globalization. He consistently sought to maintain balance and consider the long-term sustainability of the nation.

His life poses profound questions for today's politics: What is politics? What should power be used for? Can ideology take precedence over community? Are words weapons to wound people or bridges to persuade society?

Lee Hong-koo's life quietly answers these questions. Politics is the art of managing conflict, power is a position of accountability, and ideology should be a tool for the nation, not a sword that divides it. Words become public language only when they retain their dignity.

Born in Kaesong, educated at Yale, teaching at Seoul National University, and traversing through the Blue House, the Prime Minister's Office, and the embassy to the media and forums, his life was ultimately a long journey of a human being. At the end of that journey, we remember the magnitude of dignity over the size of power, the depth of responsibility over the height of position, and the elegance of public language over the outcomes of politics.

Lee Hong-koo has now departed from our midst. However, the dignity of his public language, the attitude of rationality, the belief in institutions, and the politics of responsibility that prioritized the nation will endure. In an era of division, his restraint is missed, and in a noisy age, his calm voice is longed for. He was not a loud voice in the political arena but a steady presence at every critical juncture in history.

The eternal gentleman, Lee Hong-koo.

We pay deep respect to the life of the late scholar, public servant, diplomat, and elder statesman.

We wish for his eternal rest.

May he rest in peace.

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