Germany and Europe’s political divide: a lesson for the Korea?

European dynamics offer an intriguing parallel when we consider the future of the Korean Peninsula.

Europe’s political landscape is as diverse as it is dynamic. A striking feature is the enduring East-West divide, not merely in geography but in ideology. In Western Europe, political currents tend to be more left-leaning, favoring social progressivism, multilateral cooperation, and a moralistic approach to foreign policy. Eastern Europe, in contrast, often leans right, emphasizing national sovereignty, economic pragmatism, and a cold, hard realism when dealing with external threats and alliances.

This division has deep historical roots. Western European nations, having largely escaped the scars of Soviet domination, have cultivated a political culture that prizes liberal democracy, human rights, and international cooperation. Their foreign policies are frequently guided by moral imperatives—promoting democracy abroad, advocating for humanitarian interventions, and upholding a rules-based international order. In essence, the West often views international relations through an ethical lens, believing that the pursuit of global justice can and should shape foreign policy decisions.

In Eastern Europe, however, decades under Soviet influence and the tumultuous transitions that followed have left an indelible mark on political outlooks. For many in these regions, history has taught that survival often depends on hard-nosed realism rather than idealism.

The legacy of autocratic governance, economic instability, and geopolitical vulnerability has fostered a more skeptical view of international institutions and a preference for policies that prioritize national interest and security above all else. As a result, political parties and leaders in these areas are often more conservative, emphasizing national identity and cautious, pragmatic approaches to foreign policy.

Germany’s recent election starkly highlighted this divide. Although Germany is now a united country, the political differences between its former East and West remain palpable. In the West, voters have continued to support center-left and pro-European parties that emphasize progressive values, international solidarity, and a commitment to humanitarian principles. These voters advocate for policies that see Germany as a moral actor on the world stage—one that must lead by example in matters of human rights and global justice

Meanwhile, the eastern states of Germany have shown a stronger proclivity for right-wing populist sentiments. Many voters in the East harbor deep-seated concerns about national security, economic uncertainty, and cultural identity. Their electoral choices have often favored parties that advocate for a more restrained and pragmatic foreign policy, one that is less willing to take moralistic stances that could imperil national interests.

In this light, Germany’s recent election is not just a contest between political parties; it is a manifestation of long-standing regional differences in worldview, identity, and strategic priorities.

These internal European dynamics offer an intriguing parallel when we consider the future of the Korean Peninsula.

Korea’s division into North and South has long been defined by stark ideological, economic, and cultural contrasts. South Korea has developed into a vibrant democracy with a market-driven economy, aligning itself with liberal values and global norms. Its foreign policy increasingly reflects these principles, and recognizes the role of human rights, international cooperation, and a vision of a peaceful, democratic order in the region.

The South’s political culture is marked by a willingness to engage with international partners on issues of common concern, from climate change to security challenges, and frame initiatives through a moralistic framework that stresses the importance of shared democratic values. This tendency will also likely continue. As states and social groups and individuals within them become richer, there is a marked tendency towards more progressive ideals in foreign policy.

In contrast, North Korea’s political system is built on a legacy of authoritarian rule, centralized control, and an uncompromising nationalistic ethos. If unification were ever to occur, one might speculate that these entrenched differences could give rise to a North-South divide analogous to Europe’s East-West split.

The South, with its history of progressive reforms and ostensibly ethical foreign policy, would likely continue to champion a moralistic approach, promoting human rights, democracy, and global cooperation. Meanwhile, the North, steeped in a tradition of hard-nosed realism and survivalist tactics, might retain—or even amplify—a pragmatic, security-first approach to both domestic and foreign policy.

Any discussion of a potential unified Korea must contend with enormous practical challenges. The integration of two systems that have evolved under such different conditions is a complex and delicate process. However, the comparison with Germany’s experience suggests that historical legacies and regional identities can persist long after political reunification.

Just as former East and West Germans continue to exhibit different political attitudes and values, so too might the legacy of North Korean governance influence the outlook of a reunified Korean state. The South’s inclination toward moralistic idealism could be tempered by the North’s insistence on pragmatic realism—a dynamic that would likely spark robust debate about the direction of national policy.

The East-West divide in European politics also has implications for near neighbors and strategic competitors.

Eastern European states have long harbored a strong anti-Russian sentiment—a legacy of centuries of imperial ambition and decades under Soviet domination. This sentiment often manifests in political and public discourse that views any rapprochement with Russia as a potential threat to national sovereignty. For these states, Russia’s historical interference and aggressive posturing have left deep scars, prompting governments and voters alike to favor policies that fortify alliances with Western institutions like NATO and the EU.

In this context, hard-line stances against Russian influence are not simply ideological preferences; they are seen as essential measures for preserving national identity and security in a region still haunted by past subjugation.

If we transpose these dynamics onto the Korean Peninsula, similar fault lines might emerge in a future unified Korea, particularly regarding external influences from North Korea’s traditional allies. Just as Eastern Europe has gravitated toward a defensive posture against Russian encroachment, a reunified Korea might experience heightened sensitivity toward China—a key backer of North Korea’s legacy of authoritarianism and realpolitik.

In such a scenario, the South’s longstanding commitment to democratic values and moralistic foreign policy could clash with a northern faction more inclined toward pragmatic, security-first alliances. This divergence might foster anti-Chinese sentiment reminiscent of Eastern Europe’s wariness of Russia. This would compel a unified Korean government to delicately balance its external relations while reconciling internal divisions shaped by contrasting historical experiences and ideological legacies.

The question of whether a unified Korean state would become strongly anti-China, just like Eastern European states are anti-Russia, could raise serious questions on whether China would support unification - requiring South Korea to demonstrate that its intentions in any unified state would be to maintain amicable relations with its neighbor.

The East-West divide in European politics—where the West champions a moralistic foreign policy and the East embraces a more realistic, pragmatic approach—provides a compelling lens through which to view Germany’s recent electoral outcomes. It’s also tempting to view it in the circumstances of a future unified Korea.

Yet, in the end, after around seventy years of trying to use Western international relations and political science to understand Asia, it’s probably time to give it up! The European East-West divide may be as useful to the North-South divide as kimchi served with Schweinshaxe - a useful conversation piece (and probably wanted if you’re used to it with every meal), but hardly suited to the dish.

Image 2: Paul Millar, “How Germany’s enduring East-West divide is pushing voters to the fringes” accessed at France 24 on 25 February.