On New Year’s Day 2026, North Korean leader Kim Jong-un’s daughter, Ju-ae, found herself at the center of global attention—literally and figuratively. As fireworks lit up Pyongyang’s May Day Stadium and the clock struck midnight, Ju-ae stood, placed a hand on her father’s face, and kissed him on the cheek. The gesture, captured by Korean Central Television and broadcast across the country, was more than just a fleeting family moment; it set off a wave of speculation, commentary, and, in some corners, outright controversy.
According to Yonhap News Agency, Ju-ae’s central placement between Kim Jong-un and her mother, Ri Sol-ju, during the family’s visit to the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun on January 1—the mausoleum honoring former North Korean leaders—was no accident. State media images showed the trio in the front row, surrounded by officials, paying tribute to their ancestors. The visual, carefully curated, rekindled long-standing questions about whether Ju-ae was being groomed as Kim’s successor. But South Korean officials offered a different reading: the focus, they argued, was not on succession, but on projecting the image of a “socialist great family.”
“The recent trend appears to focus on emphasizing family characteristics, or the so-called socialist great family, rather than any aspects of the succession structure,” a unification ministry official in Seoul told reporters, as cited by Yonhap. This concept, a staple of North Korean propaganda, casts the leadership as parental figures and the populace as their children—an attempt to foster unity and loyalty amid the country’s many challenges. The official pointed to Ri Sol-ju’s prominent presence at the mausoleum as evidence: “It would have been more natural for Ju-ae to be placed behind Kim during the mausoleum visit if the succession structure were being emphasized.”
Yet, not everyone was convinced by the family-first narrative. The New Year’s celebration at May Day Stadium—where Ju-ae’s affectionate cheek kiss took place—was dissected by Daily NK Japan, a Tokyo-based outlet specializing in North Korean affairs. Their January 5 article described the physical contact between Kim and Ju-ae throughout the event as “excessive,” with nearby officials “occasionally seen averting their gaze or appearing visibly uncomfortable.” The outlet, referencing footage from Korean Central Television, noted that Ju-ae sat between her parents, holding her father’s hand, whispering to him, and openly displaying their closeness. When the countdown ended, her kiss elicited a broad smile from Kim Jong-un—a rare sight in the typically stoic world of North Korean leadership imagery.
“This is not the first time that Kim Jong-un and his daughter have drawn attention for their unusual behavior,” Daily NK Japan observed. The outlet recalled a December 2025 hotel completion ceremony, where the two were seen standing “unusually close, like a couple,” prompting reactions within North Korea that reportedly described the scene as “disgusting” and “beyond a normal father-daughter relationship.” Some officials at the events, according to the outlet, even appeared embarrassed or tried to look away.
These moments, while striking for their intimacy, were interpreted by Daily NK Japan as symptomatic of deeper issues within the North Korean system. “The strange behavior that Kim Jong-un and Ju-ae openly display appears to go beyond a rational attempt to stage a succession narrative, instead reflecting distortions and anxieties inherent in the North Korean system itself, seemingly without self-awareness,” the outlet concluded. Their assessment, echoed by South Korea’s Sand Times, suggested that the regime’s public displays of familial affection might be masking underlying insecurities about the future of leadership and the state’s ideological cohesion.
Despite the swirl of speculation, South Korean officials have remained adamant that Ju-ae’s recent prominence is more about optics than dynastic planning. The unification ministry’s position, as reiterated on January 6, is that North Korea is doubling down on the “socialist great family” theme to reinforce loyalty and unity at a time when the regime faces international isolation and economic hardship. The concept, deeply rooted in North Korean propaganda, aims to present the Kim family not just as rulers, but as the nation’s caretakers—a strategy designed to humanize the leadership while strengthening the bond between state and citizen.
But why the sudden uptick in Ju-ae’s public appearances? Beyond the New Year’s festivities, she joined Kim and senior officials on January 5 at a tree-planting ceremony for a memorial museum in Pyongyang. The museum is dedicated to North Korean soldiers who died fighting for Russia in the ongoing war with Ukraine—a conflict that has drawn international scrutiny and complicated North Korea’s already fraught foreign relations. By including Ju-ae in such events, the regime appears to be weaving her into the fabric of national mythmaking, reinforcing both her status and the narrative of a unified, familial state.
Still, the optics have not gone unnoticed—or unchallenged—by outside observers. The juxtaposition of Ju-ae’s youthful affection with the somber rituals of state power has fueled debate about the direction of North Korean politics. Is Kim Jong-un subtly preparing the public for a future handover of power to his daughter, or is he simply using her image to soften the regime’s appearance and rally support during turbulent times?
The answer, for now, remains elusive. What is clear is that every public appearance by Ju-ae is meticulously staged and closely watched, both within North Korea and beyond its borders. The reactions—ranging from discomfort among regime officials to outright criticism from foreign media—highlight the delicate balancing act facing the Kim family. They must project strength and continuity while also adapting to a changing world where even the smallest gesture can spark global headlines.
For North Koreans, the message is clear: the Kim family is not just the country’s ruling dynasty, but its symbolic heart. For the rest of the world, Ju-ae’s rise offers a rare glimpse into the closed world of Pyongyang’s elite—a world where power, propaganda, and personal relationships are inextricably linked. Whether her role is that of a future leader or simply the face of a new propaganda campaign, one thing is certain: Ju-ae will remain a figure to watch as North Korea navigates the uncertain road ahead.
With every carefully choreographed appearance, the Kim family continues to blur the line between personal affection and political theater—leaving the world, and perhaps even their own officials, guessing what comes next.
