At Incheon International Airport on September 12, 2025, the arrival hall was thick with emotion. Families pressed against barriers, some weeping, others holding handmade signs, as more than 300 South Korean workers—just days before shackled and detained in Georgia by U.S. immigration authorities—finally stepped onto home soil. The scene was both jubilant and somber, a moment of relief that followed a week of international tension and public outrage.
The workers, recognized in South Korea as engineers with top-tier technical expertise, had been at the center of a diplomatic firestorm. Their ordeal began on September 4, when U.S. immigration officers descended on a battery plant construction site in Bryan County, Georgia. The facility, a joint venture between Hyundai Motor Group and LG Energy Solution, was intended to be a symbol of South Korea’s deepening investment in American industry. Instead, it became the stage for a spectacle that shocked both nations.
According to Korea Bizwire and Reuters, footage released by U.S. authorities showed rows of South Korean laborers with their hands and legs shackled, being loaded onto buses. The images, widely shared on social media and broadcast across South Korea, ignited a wave of anger. Calls for boycotts of U.S. goods trended online, and headlines decried the treatment as a breach of trust between longtime allies.
The workers were not alone. Among the 330 detainees were 10 Chinese, 3 Japanese, and 1 Indonesian national, but the overwhelming majority—316—were South Korean. Only 10 of the detainees were women. Their detention was not only a personal ordeal but a national embarrassment, and it quickly became clear that the root of the crisis was a long-standing issue: the difficulty South Korean companies face in securing proper visas for their specialist workers on U.S. projects.
Most of the detained workers had entered the United States on short-term business visas or 90-day recreational permits—documents that don’t cover the months-long, highly technical work required at major construction sites. For years, Korean companies had warned of these gaps in the system, but few anticipated such a dramatic unraveling. "It’s a gray area that both sides interpret differently," admitted Kang Hoon-sik, President Lee Jae Myung’s chief of staff, who met the workers at the airport. "That gap must be closed before trust can be rebuilt."
The incident triggered an immediate response from both governments. South Korea dispatched senior diplomats to Washington, and Hyundai and LG executives traveled to Georgia to help contain the fallout. Foreign Minister Cho Hyun, after shuttling between negotiations, announced a crucial agreement: the workers would be released as "voluntary departures," not as deportees. This distinction, according to Korea Bizwire, was vital to prevent future travel restrictions for the workers involved.
Cho further revealed that Seoul and Washington had agreed to form a working group on visa reform. The plan includes the possible creation of a new visa category specifically for corporate investment staff, as well as a dedicated visa desk at the U.S. Embassy in Seoul. The hope is that these measures will help prevent similar incidents in the future and restore confidence among Korean businesses investing in the U.S.
For the workers themselves, the week-long ordeal left scars. Many spoke privately of trauma: being treated "like criminals," having their phones confiscated, and spending nights in detention facilities far from home. One South Korean, whose family lives in the United States, chose to remain in custody to fight his case in court. The rest, after being processed through a fast-track immigration line at Incheon, were ushered onto buses chartered by Hyundai and LG. Security was tight, and foreign press crews jostled for footage as the travelers—some still wearing company jackets—filed into waiting vehicles.
The public response in South Korea was swift and fierce. A recent poll found that many South Koreans felt not only bewildered but increasingly angry over the incident. At the airport, Lee Je-seok, a well-known advertising executive, staged a placard performance featuring the image of U.S. President Donald Trump. The gesture underscored the symbolic weight of the crisis, which came at a delicate moment in U.S.–Korea relations.
President Trump, who has sought Seoul’s cooperation to rebuild U.S. shipbuilding, semiconductor, and battery industries, briefly delayed the workers’ release, encouraging some to stay on. Yet in Seoul, President Lee Jae Myung struck a cautious but firm tone at his 100-day press conference. "If incidents like this recur, companies will inevitably hesitate to make direct investments in the United States," he warned, urging Washington to deliver concrete reforms.
The return of the workers was the result of intense, around-the-clock negotiations by South Korean officials. According to Reuters, the week saw a flurry of diplomatic activity, with South Korea’s foreign minister visiting Washington and both sides working to resolve the crisis without further damaging the alliance. In the end, the agreement to allow "voluntary departures" was seen as a face-saving compromise, but the underlying issues remain unresolved.
For South Korean businesses, the episode is a stark reminder of the risks involved in overseas investment. The visa system that governs the movement of specialist workers has long been a source of frustration, forcing companies to rely on ambiguous interpretations and short-term permits. The incident in Georgia exposed just how vulnerable these arrangements can be, and it has prompted calls for urgent reform.
"We regret we could not bring them home sooner. But now we must work urgently to fix the visa system so that Korean companies can invest in America without fear," said Kang Hoon-sik, echoing the concerns of both the business community and the government.
As the buses carrying the freed workers pulled away from Incheon airport, some passengers waved faintly through tinted windows. Their families waved back, grateful but unsettled. The scars of a week in detention—and the uncertainty of what lies ahead for Korea’s global workforce—will linger long after the airport crowd dispersed.
The episode has laid bare the strains in the U.S.–Korea relationship at a time when both countries are counting on each other for economic growth and technological advancement. Whether the promised visa reforms will materialize—and whether they will be enough to restore confidence—remains to be seen.
For now, the workers are home, but the questions raised by their ordeal continue to reverberate in boardrooms and government offices on both sides of the Pacific.