When North Korean leader Kim Jong Un stepped off his bulletproof train in Beijing on September 3, 2025, the world’s attention zeroed in on the striking tableau that unfolded on the platform. There, amid a flurry of cameras and dignitaries, a young woman clad in a navy pantsuit stood close behind Kim. This was not North Korea’s first lady, Ri Sol Ju, but Kim’s daughter—her presence immediately igniting a fresh wave of speculation about the future of the world’s most secretive dynasty.
Kim’s arrival in Beijing marked his participation in China’s grand commemoration of the 80th anniversary of Victory Day, a military parade that drew leaders from Russia, Iran, Belarus, and more. As reported by Daily NK and The Wall Street Journal, Kim’s appearance was anything but low-key: he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Chinese President Xi Jinping and Russian President Vladimir Putin atop the iconic Tiananmen rostrum, a display that underscored the deepening North Korea-China-Russia alliance. But it was the presence of his daughter, not his wife, that set tongues wagging both in South Korea and abroad.
North Korea, never one to shy away from spectacle, had its state newspaper Rodong Sinmun disclose the exact time Kim’s special train crossed the border, stoking anticipation. Yet, as the world watched, the question on everyone’s mind was clear: Was Kim’s daughter being groomed as his successor?
On the platform in Beijing, Kim’s daughter—whose name and age remain officially unconfirmed, though she is widely believed to be Ju Ae, his second child, born in 2013—stood ahead of the country’s foreign minister and other senior officials. According to The Wall Street Journal, “Her presence at a celebration that included the leaders of Russia, Iran and Belarus kicked up fresh speculation that Kim is grooming her to succeed him one day.”
Since her debut at an intercontinental ballistic missile launch in 2022, Kim’s daughter has become a recurring figure at high-profile events: missile tests, satellite launches, military parades, and even diplomatic visits such as a trip to the Russian embassy in Pyongyang. South Korea’s spy agency has identified her as the most likely successor for now, a remarkable prospect in a regime where power has traditionally passed from father to son. Yet, as Daily NK points out, the notion of a “successor initiation ceremony” at the Beijing parade is far from settled.
“It is premature to judge Kim Ju Ae’s visit to China with Kim Jong Un as a successor initiation ceremony,” one analyst told Daily NK. North Korea’s patriarchal traditions make it “extremely difficult for a woman to assume the position of supreme leader.” Instead, the expert argues, Kim Ju Ae serves as a “prop for Kim Jong Un’s image politics.” The optics of her standing behind Kim—while notable—should not be mistaken for an official elevation of status.
Indeed, the September 3 edition of Rodong Sinmun made no mention of Kim Ju Ae as “respected” or “beloved child,” nor did it use any of the honorifics that typically signal rising political status in North Korean propaganda. The only clue was a photo showing her behind Kim, partially obscured by an interpreter, a detail that would be unthinkable if she were being presented as a leader-in-waiting. As Daily NK observes, “If she were considered the successor with supreme dignity, such a photo would be highly disrespectful.”
What’s more, Kim Ju Ae did not ascend to the Tiananmen rostrum—the parade’s focal point—despite other leaders entering with their wives. If this were an initiation, as some have speculated, her absence from the rostrum is telling. Instead, her public appearances often mirror her mother’s style and mannerisms, suggesting, according to Daily NK, that she is more a political prop than a confirmed successor. “Every time Kim Ju Ae appears, one wonders why she copies Ri Sol Ju’s fashion, hairstyle, even hand gestures and walking style. If she were the successor, would there be any need for such imitation?” the article asks pointedly.
Despite the swirl of rumors, the larger stage in Beijing was unmistakably set for Kim Jong Un himself. The North Korean leader’s purpose, experts argue, was to “flaunt his absolute power” and reinforce his value to both Russia and China as an equal partner in their burgeoning alliance. The parade’s entrance ceremony—featuring Kim flanked by Xi and Putin, with other leaders following—was a calculated piece of propaganda designed to show North Korea’s elevated status on the world stage. As Park Won-gon, a professor at Ewha Womans University, explained to The Wall Street Journal, “The only reason Kim could stand front and center in Beijing alongside Xi and Putin is because he, too, has nukes.”
Kim’s diplomatic itinerary underscored this message. On September 4, he met with Xi Jinping for leader-to-leader talks, with China’s Foreign Ministry noting that the two were expected to discuss issues of common interest. The spectacle of Kim’s arrival—his special train, the carefully staged greetings, the presence of his daughter—was as much about projecting power as it was about signaling continuity.
Still, the symbolism of Kim Ju Ae’s presence should not be dismissed outright. As Peter Ward, a North Korea researcher at the Sejong Institute, told The Wall Street Journal, “The Kim regime is normalizing the idea of her being the successor, or at least a very powerful presence in North Korea’s political system. She also helps humanize Kim’s image.” In a regime that has long shrouded the lives of its leaders’ children in secrecy—Kim himself was largely hidden from public view as a child—her increasing visibility is a departure from precedent.
Yet, as Daily NK cautions, no official confirmation of succession has been made. The publication warns against reading too much into Kim Ju Ae’s appearances, noting that the North Korean system remains deeply patriarchal and that hereditary succession—especially to a daughter—would face significant internal resistance. The author goes further, condemning the use of Kim Ju Ae as a political tool: “Kim Jong Un’s inhumane behavior of packaging his own children as commodities to strengthen his political position domestically and internationally deserves condemnation.”
For now, the question of succession remains open. North Korea’s regime, experts suggest, is more concerned with projecting stability and power—both at home and abroad—than with settling the issue of who comes next. As the world watches, the spectacle of Kim Jong Un flanked by global powers, with his daughter in tow, is as much about legacy as it is about present-day geopolitics. Whether Kim Ju Ae will one day take the reins, or whether her role is simply to bolster her father’s image, remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: in Pyongyang, the stagecraft is never accidental, and every gesture is loaded with meaning.
The prospect of a fourth-generation Kim dynasty, as Daily NK argues, is a “horrific” one. The world, it seems, is left to wonder not just who will lead North Korea next, but how long the spectacle—and the system—will endure.