When diplomacy becomes identity politics
When Kojo Choi arrived in Seoul as Ghana’s ambassador to South Korea, many Koreans celebrated his remarkable journey.
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Born in Korea and raised in Ghana after his family relocated there when he was a child, Choi’s appointment was widely seen as a symbol of the global Korean diaspora: a Korean-born man, now a Ghanaian citizen, returning to the country of his birth as a foreign diplomat. His arrival drew personal attention well beyond the diplomatic formalities. The story of someone going home as a stranger, with a family shaped entirely by Ghana, resonated in ways a standard diplomatic announcement rarely does.
If Korea can celebrate a Korean-born ambassador representing Ghana, why have some Korean commentators been noticeably cooler toward former U.S. representative Michelle Steel, a Seoul-born Korean-American whom President Trump has nominated to serve as the next U.S. ambassador to Seoul — a nomination the Senate Foreign Relations Committee recently advanced 14-8?
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The answer has less to do with Steel herself than with the partisan lens through which some in Korea have chosen to view her. Her background as a Republican elected official is well known, and for some commentators, that affiliation has become the story, displacing the more relevant fact that she is a nominee for one of the most consequential ambassadorial posts in Asia.
A former Korean ambassador writing in a Korean outlet recently declared that public opposition to Steel is high, citing her political ties and concerns about potential interference in Korean domestic affairs. That sentiment has spilled into the streets, where Seoul demonstrators chanted, “Michelle Steel, don’t come,” and into formal channels, where 32 Korean and Korean-American peace organizations submitted a letter of opposition directly to the U.S. Senate.
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That reaction misunderstands how diplomacy works.
An ambassador is not sent to Seoul to reflect Korean political preferences. She is sent to represent the United States. Once confirmed, Michelle Steel will not be the ambassador of the Republican Party. She will be the ambassador of the United States of America. That distinction is basic, but apparently not obvious enough.
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The U.S.–South Korea alliance has endured for more than seven decades not because the two countries always agree politically, but because both recognize that the relationship is bigger than any administration. South Korea has worked with Democrat presidents and Republican presidents, with hawks and pragmatists, with free traders and tariff enthusiasts. American administrations change. The alliance remains. A serious ally understands this.
What makes the current contrast striking is that Korea has long taken pride in overseas Koreans who succeed on the world stage. Kojo Choi fits that narrative perfectly. So does Michelle Steel, though she arrived at her position by a different path. The difference is in how their roles are being interpreted.
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The tendency to celebrate diaspora success stories while scrutinizing politically visible figures along party lines is not unique to Korea, but it is more consequential in Seoul right now. North Korea continues to advance its nuclear and missile capabilities. Washington and Beijing are locked in an intensifying competition across the Indo-Pacific that touches semiconductors, critical minerals, defense posture, and supply chain resilience — all areas where the U.S.–Korea relationship is central. This is not a moment for Seoul to evaluate American diplomats based on which party sent them.
Korea cannot credibly claim to value the alliance while applying a partisan test to the people who show up to manage it.
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The comparison between Choi and Steel is instructive precisely because it is uncomfortable. One appointment fits a familiar and flattering narrative. The other requires setting aside political preference to see the diplomatic reality clearly.
If Korea welcomes Korean-born diplomats when their stories are politically comfortable, but questions them when their politics are not, we’re now firmly in the realm of identity politics.
James Carter is a policy adviser with America’s Economy First. He previously served as director of the Center for American Prosperity at the America First Policy Institute and as deputy undersecretary at the U.S. Department of Labor, where he oversaw international affairs.
Jacob Choe is an international strategist specializing in Africa, emerging markets, and critical minerals supply chains. He is a member of the Bretton Woods Committee and a Ben Franklin Fellow.

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