Pyongyang International Marathon Returns in 2025 After Pandemic Hiatus

Pyongyang, April 2025 – North Korea’s famed marathon has made a long-awaited comeback. After six years of cancellation and closed borders, the Pyongyang International Marathon was held again in April 2025, marking the event’s first running since 2019. The race’s return – featuring hundreds of local and foreign runners coursing through the streets of the capital – offers a rare glimpse into the reclusive country’s post-pandemic opening, and carries significance beyond sport. Officials, athletes, and observers alike see the marathon’s revival as a signal of North Korea’s tentative re-engagement with the world, even as strict controls and political messaging remain in place.

 Runners depart the starting line inside Pyongyang’s Kim Il Sung Stadium during the 31st Pyongyang International Marathon, April 6, 2025. The stadium was filled with an estimated 50,000 spectators cheering on the athletes. The 2025 race was the first Pyongyang Marathon held since 2019, resuming after a lengthy hiatus due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

A Storied Race in the Heart of Pyongyang

The Pyongyang International Marathon – known historically as the Mangyongdae Prize International Marathon – is North Korea’s premier athletic competition on home soil. First launched in 1981 to honor the April birthday of national founder Kim Il Sung, the race became a fixture of the country’s annual celebrations​

. For decades, it was an elite event, with participation largely limited to domestic athletes and a select few foreign professionals. The marathon’s official name itself paid homage to Mangyongdae, the birthplace of Kim Il Sung, underscoring the race’s importance in North Korea’s sports and propaganda calendar​

. Each spring, long-distance runners would loop through Pyongyang’s broad avenues as residents lined the streets, and the winners would bring prestige to the nation’s sports program.

Evolution and Opening to Foreigners: A major turning point came in 2014. In an unprecedented move, North Korean authorities opened the Pyongyang marathon to amateur foreign runners for the first time since its inception​

. Until then, strict qualifying times (previously around 2 hours 27 minutes for men and 2:38 for women) effectively barred all but professional athletes from entering​

. The 2014 race saw about 200 international runners join locals on the course – a remarkable sight in a country known for isolation​

. This move was part of a broader effort to boost tourism and showcase a friendlier image. The following years cemented the marathon as a sports diplomacy and tourism event: tour agencies organized travel packages for runners and spectators, and participation swelled. By 2016, a record number of foreigners took part – nearly 600 international runners joined that year’s marathon tours, according to one travel company’s report​

. The annual race became one of the few occasions when Pyongyang’s streets filled with visitors from dozens of nations, all jogging past iconic monuments under the watchful eyes of local citizens.

Significance in North Korean Sport: Within North Korea, the marathon holds considerable prestige. It is one of the only international sporting events regularly hosted in the country, giving North Korean athletes a rare chance to compete (and often triumph) on home turf against foreigners. Over the years, North Korean runners – who train under the state sports system – have frequently dominated the podiums in Pyongyang. The race also ties into the regime’s narrative of national strength and hospitality: state media coverage typically highlights the endurance and victory of local athletes alongside the fact that foreigners came to participate. The marathon’s scheduling as part of the “Day of the Sun” festivities (celebrating Kim Il Sung’s April 15 birthday) further elevated it as a patriotic event​

. Until recently, even the name “Mangyongdae Prize” kept the association with the leader’s legacy front and center. In short, the Pyongyang marathon evolved from a simple road race into an important cultural fixture – blending sports, propaganda, and international outreach.

Previous Disruptions: Despite its annual prominence, the marathon has faced interruptions before the pandemic. Notably, in 2015 North Korea banned all foreign runners from the race due to fears of the Ebola virus abroad, even though no cases existed in Asia​

. At that time, the country had closed its borders as a precaution, much as it would later do for COVID-19. Tour agencies, which had expected hundreds of foreign entrants in 2015, had to cancel plans​

. (The race was still held that year, but only for locals and a handful of invited elites.) This episode highlighted North Korea’s extreme vigilance regarding outside threats to public health, as well as the regime’s willingness to shut down even lucrative tourist events in the face of perceived danger​

. After the Ebola scare passed, the marathon reopened to foreigners and continued uninterrupted from 2016 through 2019. The 2019 edition – the last before the pandemic – was billed as the Mangyongdae Prize Marathon and drew hundreds of runners, capping off what was by then a nearly four-decade tradition​

The 2025 Marathon: Resuming After Six Years

North Korea’s decision to hold the marathon again in April 2025 has been met with both excitement and scrutiny. The 2020–2024 races were all cancelled as the country sealed its borders during the COVID-19 outbreak​

. Thus, the 2025 Pyongyang International Marathon, run on April 6, 2025, became the 31st edition of the race and the first to take place in six years​

. Preparations for the event were handled quietly and carefully. In the days leading up to the race, small groups of foreign runners arrived in Pyongyang under close supervision. They spent their time training on hotel grounds and adjusting to the environment before joining local runners at the start line on Sunday morning​

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Race Day Details: The marathon unfolded against the backdrop of Pyongyang’s iconic skyline and landmarks. The course was a return route through central Pyongyang, beginning and ending at the massive Kim Il Sung Stadium, with segments that passed by monuments, broad boulevards, and even out into the countryside beyond the city outskirts​

. According to organizers, the route offered views of “many of the iconic buildings, monuments and streets” of the capital before looping back to the city center​

. At 8 a.m. on race day, over 50,000 North Korean spectators packed the stadium’s grandstands for the opening ceremony and to cheer on the runners​

. The crowd included work units, students, and families mobilized to create a jubilant atmosphere – many waving flags and even wearing face masks in a reminder that public health precautions have not entirely vanished​

The competition included multiple race categories. Alongside the full 42.195 km marathon, there was a half-marathon, a 10 km race, and a 5 km race, with divisions for both men and women​

. This allowed a mix of elite athletes and fun-runners to take part. In total, more than 500 runners participated across all events, a figure that includes several hundred North Koreans and over 200 international runners from dozens of countries​

. The sight of packs of foreign runners – identifiable by their multi-colored gear and numbered bibs – racing through Pyongyang’s normally regimented streets was remarkable. Local citizens lined the roads to clap and shout encouragement, and according to North Korea’s official newspaper Rodong Sinmun, even young students were out waving flowers as the marathoners passed by​

. State television footage later showed foreign participants snapping pictures with their phones as they ran, clearly intrigued by the throngs of locals in the streets and the buzz of the stadium crowd​

Results and Highlights: North Korean runners, who traditionally excel in this event, once again claimed the top prizes. Pak Kum-dong of North Korea won the men’s marathon, reportedly crossing the finish line first in Kim Il Sung Stadium to the roar of the home crowd​

. He clocked a time just over 2 hours and 12 minutes, according to official results – a strong performance on a humid spring day​

. In the women’s marathon, Jon Su-gyong of North Korea took the gold, finishing around 2 hours 25 minutes​

. This continued a long-running pattern of North Korean athletes winning their marquee race. However, foreign competitors also made a mark: an Ethiopian runner, Bekele Girma Metaferia, earned the silver medal in the men’s race with a time of 2:12:27, closely trailing the winner​

. On the women’s side, the podium likewise included an international athlete, as an Ethiopian woman took bronze in the marathon behind two North Koreans​

. The half-marathon and shorter races were dominated by local runners, with North Koreans sweeping the podiums in those categories​

Notably, the 2025 event also formally distinguished between “elite” and “amateur” classes – a reflection of the mix of serious racers and recreational runners. In the amateur marathon division, foreign runners shone: Polish participants swept the top spots in the men’s amateur marathon (with one Pole winning in 2:30:39) and a runner from Hong Kong won the amateur women’s marathon race​

. These amateur categories allowed the visiting runners, many of whom were not professional athletes, to still compete for honors among themselves. As they completed their races, all finishers – whether North Korean or foreign, first place or hundredth – received applause from the large crowd assembled in the stadium. The event concluded with a joyous closing ceremony in the packed arena, where officials awarded medals and locals performed lively music and dance routines to celebrate the marathon’s successful return.

Foreign Participation and Tourism in 2025

One of the most significant aspects of the 2025 Pyongyang Marathon was the return of foreign participants – the first group of international leisure travelers to enter North Korea in years. Since early 2020, North Korea had imposed a near-total ban on outsiders entering the country, as part of draconian COVID-19 prevention measures. By April 2025, these restrictions were partially eased to facilitate the marathon, but visiting the country was far from a simple affair. Every foreign runner had to come through a tightly controlled process, highlighting how North Korea uses events like this to carefully manage tourism and diplomacy on its own terms.

Who Was (and Wasn’t) There: According to the Beijing-based travel agency Koryo Tours – the official international partner for the marathon – about 200 foreign runners took part in the April 6 race​

. These visitors hailed from approximately 45 countries, reflecting a surprisingly diverse turnout given the circumstances​

. Runners came from neighboring China and Russia in significant numbers, as well as from various European nations, Southeast Asia, Africa, and elsewhere​

. Notably absent were citizens of certain countries that North Korea pointedly excluded. Americans, South Koreans, and Malaysians were reportedly barred from registering for this year’s race​

. This exclusion was due to ongoing diplomatic tensions – North Korea has no diplomatic relations (or poor relations) with those nations, and in the case of U.S. and South Korean citizens, independent travel to the North is heavily restricted or outright banned by their own governments as well. The marathon’s entry rules therefore mirrored the regime’s geopolitical grievances: runners from nations friendly or neutral to Pyongyang were welcome, while those from “hostile” countries could not participate​

. (Malaysia’s inclusion on that list stems from a bitter fallout over the 2017 assassination of Kim Jong Nam in Kuala Lumpur and the subsequent collapse of North Korea–Malaysia relations.)

Among those foreigners who did attend, Chinese and Russian runners formed the largest contingents, underscoring North Korea’s reliance on its close neighbors for re-opening efforts​

. The Russian Embassy in Pyongyang proudly noted in a social media post that five Russian nationals ran in the marathon, and that embassy staff and their families went out to the stadium to cheer them on​

. A handful of runners from Western Europe, Canada, Australia, and other regions also joined – many of them adventurous amateurs eager for the once-in-a-lifetime experience of jogging through the secretive city. For these participants, the event was as much about travel curiosity as about athletic achievement.

Travel Logistics and Controls: Every foreigner in the marathon came in under the auspices of guided tour packages. The only way to get into North Korea for the race was to book an official tour—primarily arranged by Koryo Tours, which acted as the sole authorized facilitator for marathon entries​

. The package cost roughly $2,500 USD per person, which covered a standard six-day itinerary in North Korea centered around the marathon​

. Participants first had to travel to Beijing, China, where they underwent North Korean visa formalities and COVID-19 health checks, before boarding a chartered Air Koryo flight to Pyongyang​

. North Korea’s capital remains closed to regular commercial flights, so special arrangements were made to fly in the marathon tour groups. Upon arrival, the foreign runners were accommodated at designated tourism hotels and kept on a carefully managed schedule – including supervised training runs, guided city tours to approved sites, and the marathon event itself. Throughout their stay, minders ensured that the visitors’ interaction with the local population was controlled and that all pandemic-related protocols were observed. (Observers noted that some North Korean staff wore masks, and it’s likely the foreigners had to show proof of vaccination or test negative for COVID-19, though official details on health requirements were not publicized.)

The marathon day was the highlight of these tours, and also the moment of greatest interaction between foreigners and ordinary North Koreans. Still, the experience was orchestrated. Foreign runners were bused to the stadium early in the morning and kept mostly separate from local athletes except during the race itself. After finishing their runs, they mingled somewhat with North Korean runners on the field – exchanging smiles and thumbs-up despite language barriers – but were soon guided back to their hotels for lunch with their tour groups. Such staging ensures that while North Korea can showcase images of foreigners happily running side by side with locals, it minimizes unscripted contact. “The race offered a rare glimpse into life in North Korea — but only as choreographed by the state,” one analyst observed of the 2025 event​

. In essence, the marathon allowed foreign guests to come in and see the country, but under terms dictated by Pyongyang.

Tourism Restart or One-Off? The presence of hundreds of foreign visitors in Pyongyang this April – albeit just for a few days – is itself a striking development after years of total isolation. It has raised cautious hopes that North Korea may be inching toward reopening its borders to tourism on a broader scale. North Korea’s hosting of the marathon, and the revenue from the tour packages, suggest the regime is looking again at foreign tourists as a source of much-needed hard currency​

. Observers point out that Pyongyang could selectively allow more tour groups later in 2025 if the marathon experiment is deemed successful. Indeed, North Korean authorities had reportedly begun permitting some foreign visitors (starting with Chinese and Russian tour groups) in limited numbers in late 2023 and early 2024​

. In February 2025, there were even unconfirmed reports of a handful of Western tourists being allowed in on trial trips​

. However, the situation remains fluid: shortly before the marathon, the North Korean government abruptly suspended foreign tours again for unclear reasons​

, indicating a persistent wariness. The marathon therefore stood out as a special exception – a tightly contained influx of outsiders for a controlled event. Whether it will be followed by a fuller reopening of tourism is still uncertain. Travel industry experts are hopeful, but they note that North Korea’s decisions will depend on internal calculations about COVID-19, economic need, and political strategy.

A Tool of Soft Diplomacy and Propaganda

The Pyongyang International Marathon has long served a dual purpose: not only is it a sporting contest, but it is also a carefully crafted instrument of soft power for the North Korean state. By inviting foreign runners to participate – and by staging a well-organized international event in the heart of Pyongyang – the regime gains opportunities to shape its global image and reap economic benefits, all on its own terms.

Showcasing a Friendly Face: In a country often defined by missile tests and military parades, the marathon provides a rare scene of normalcy and international camaraderie. Photographs of smiling foreign athletes running past Pyongyang’s grand monuments, or videos of a packed stadium roaring in unison for all participants, present North Korea in a more welcoming and humanizing light. This is no accident. The state and affiliated tour agencies heavily promote such images to counter the narrative of North Korea as closed-off or hostile. As Koryo Tours describes it, the race is an event where visitors from around the world come together with North Koreans for the love of sport​

. This message aligns with classic sports diplomacy: the idea that international sporting exchanges can build goodwill and understanding. For North Korea, the marathon is one of the very few avenues to engage in people-to-people diplomacy. There are no political negotiations happening on the course, but the simple fact that foreigners travel, run, and enjoy themselves in Pyongyang is later used by North Korean media to suggest that the country is not as isolated as critics claim, and that even Americans or Europeans (when they were allowed) found the experience positive.

In past editions, foreign runners have often been quoted expressing excitement at the cheering crowds and the novelty of running in Pyongyang – testimonials that North Korea eagerly amplifies. The 2025 marathon was no different in that regard. State television coverage showed foreign participants at the finish line grinning and giving high-fives, and some were interviewed saying they were impressed by the organization of the race and the enthusiasm of the local spectators (though such interviews are typically vetted)​

. These scenes function as public relations moments for Pyongyang. They subtly support the regime’s preferred narrative that North Korea is open to those who “respect” it, and that it provides a safe, hospitable environment for guests. In other words, the marathon allows North Korea to conduct a form of soft diplomacy – improving its image through culture and sports rather than through formal diplomacy.

Economic and Educational Benefits: The marathon is also a lucrative tourism product. Each foreign runner or tourist who comes for the event pays a significant fee, much of which ends up in North Korean state coffers (via accommodation costs, internal flights, visa fees, etc.). In the mid-2010s, as noted, the race brought in hundreds of visitors annually. For a sanctioned economy in need of foreign cash, this was a welcome infusion. The 2025 event, while smaller in scale than pre-pandemic peaks, still signaled the potential return of a revenue stream. “The return of the marathon doesn’t just mark the resumption of the event — it’s one of the few state-sanctioned openings to outsiders in years,” an analysis by a running news outlet observed, emphasizing the broader significance beyond sport​

. North Korean authorities likely calculated that the controlled admission of a few hundred paying foreigners for the marathon was worth the health risk, given the economic benefit and propaganda value.

Additionally, having international runners in Pyongyang can be seen as a minor cultural education for the local population. Under strict surveillance, North Korean spectators get to see people from other countries in person – perhaps the only time many will witness foreigners with their own eyes. They see that these outsiders come peacefully to participate in a national celebration. The regime may hope this fosters a sense of national pride (that even foreigners come to honor their Great Leader’s birthday events) or at least counters narratives of foreign hostility. Of course, interactions are too limited to meaningfully change North Korean perceptions of the outside world, but the event at least demonstrates a controlled form of cultural exchange.

A Carefully Choreographed Narrative: It is important to note that while the marathon opens a window, it is a tightly regulated one. North Korean propagandists ensure that the story told – both to the domestic audience and to the world – is one that benefits the state. Foreigners are always shown behaving respectfully and enjoying themselves. Any incident or dissent (which are exceedingly rare during such short, supervised trips) would be immediately censored from local news. Meanwhile, domestic marathon champions are celebrated as heroes who defended national honor by winning the race, often with heavy coverage in the sports pages of state newspapers the next day. This allows the regime to simultaneously project international goodwill and athletic supremacy. In essence, the event is stage-managed propaganda as much as it is an athletic meet. As one media outlet noted, the 2025 race offered outsiders a look at North Korea, but “only as choreographed by the state” – underscoring that every aspect of the experience was guided and curated​

Over the years, Pyongyang has also been selective about when and how to use the marathon for outreach. For example, the ban on U.S. and South Korean runners in 2025 shows that North Korea is not using the event to bridge the most acute divides; rather, it invites mostly citizens of friendly nations, thereby reinforcing existing alliances (with China, Russia, etc.) through shared participation. In the past, however, there have been instances of subtle diplomatic signaling: in 2019, a small group of French and other Western runners were allowed in despite poor diplomatic ties, and their presence was quietly noted by North Korean media, perhaps as a signal of openness amid failed nuclear talks that year. The marathon thus can serve as a barometer of Pyongyang’s diplomatic mood – opening wider in times of engagement, and tightening during periods of tension.

The Pandemic’s Impact: Isolation and Reopening

The context for the 2025 marathon’s return cannot be separated from the COVID-19 pandemic and its profound effect on North Korea. Few countries locked down as completely as North Korea did. In January 2020, as the coronavirus spread globally, Pyongyang swiftly sealed its borders to all visitors and implemented draconian quarantine measures domestically​

. The regime went so far as to declare a national emergency and claim to have zero COVID cases for over two years – a claim met with skepticism by outside experts. During this period, virtually all flights and cross-border trains stopped, foreign diplomats and aid workers left en masse, and international trade was reduced to a trickle. Unsurprisingly, international sports events like the Pyongyang Marathon were among the first casualties of this isolationist policy.

From 2020 through 2024, no marathon took place in Pyongyang. The event was “suspended due to the COVID-19 pandemic,” as North Korean media later acknowledged​

. For five consecutive Aprils, Kim Il Sung Stadium sat quiet on marathon day – a remarkable break in tradition for a race that had been held annually for decades. North Korean athletes, who normally look forward to testing themselves against foreign competitors on home ground, could only train and race domestically. Likewise, North Korea’s borders were so tightly closed that its national teams withdrew from international competitions: most prominently, Pyongyang did not send a delegation to the Tokyo Olympics (held in summer 2021) out of virus fears​

, leading the International Olympic Committee to suspend the country from the subsequent Winter Games in Beijing as a penalty. Other international events, from World Cup soccer qualifiers to regional tournaments, saw North Korea’s absence as well. This complete isolation from global sports was unprecedented even for North Korea, which had previously maintained some presence at international games through war and famine. It underscored how seriously the regime took the pandemic threat – to the point of sacrificing sports glory and propaganda opportunities for the sake of quarantine.

Domestically, the absence of the marathon and other public events was likely felt by citizens. North Korea often uses mass sports and cultural gatherings to bolster social unity and propagate messages. In mid-2022, the country finally admitted to experiencing a COVID-19 outbreak, after claiming to be virus-free. Kim Jong Un mobilized the population and later declared a swift victory over the virus by August 2022, attributing it to the socialist system’s superiority. Following that, North Korea began a slow, cautious reopening process through 2023. By late 2023, limited freight trade had resumed with China and Russia, some diplomatic personnel were allowed to return, and there were signs of internal events (like the Pyongyang Trade Fair and military parades) occurring with large crowds again. However, regular tourism remained shut down, and the marathon was not held in 2023 despite initial hopes, likely because authorities were still wary of inviting foreigners.

It was only in early 2025 that concrete steps toward reopening to visitors became evident. In March 2025, North Korea quietly restarted some flights with China and gave the green light for the April marathon to include foreigners​

. Even then, the approach was baby-steps. Aside from the marathon tours and some Russian-Chinese group visits, North Korea has not yet thrown open the gates for general travel. Officials in Seoul noted that Pyongyang’s handling of the marathon indicates a controlled trial rather than a full return to pre-pandemic openness​

. The fact that North Korea reversed course on allowing Western tourists just weeks before the race (temporarily halting any non-marathon visits) shows that internal debates about COVID-19 safety and the risks of foreign influx are still ongoing​

For the North Korean people, the marathon’s comeback in 2025 was likely presented as a sign that the country had overcome the pandemic adversity. State media hailed the successful hosting of an international event and the victory of domestic runners, framing it as another accomplishment under Kim Jong Un’s leadership. There was no mention of any remaining COVID concerns in the domestic news reports about the race. In reality, precautions were subtly still in place – for example, some of the 50,000 spectators at the stadium wore face masks, and it’s believed that the foreign runners had to comply with health checks​

. But outwardly, North Korea wanted to project that life was fully back to normal. The marathon thus served as a symbolic bookend to the pandemic era: an assertion that the nation is ready to reopen (on its own terms) and rejoin certain international activities, having supposedly kept COVID-19 at bay.

Political and Cultural Implications of the 2025 Revival

Beyond the immediate excitement of the race, the resumption of the Pyongyang Marathon in 2025 carries deeper political and cultural significance. It provides insight into how North Korea under Kim Jong Un is adjusting its internal narrative and external engagement after years of crisis. Several notable developments around the marathon point to subtle shifts in propaganda and policy.

Rebranding and Shifting Narrative: One of the first things observers noticed was a change in how the marathon was officially referred to. In 2025, state media called it the “Pyongyang International Marathon,” whereas in 2019 and prior years it was always the “Mangyongdae Prize International Marathon”​

. In essence, North Korea removed the reference to Kim Il Sung’s birthplace (Mangyongdae) from the event’s title. South Korea’s Unification Ministry, which monitors North Korean propaganda, confirmed this renaming and suggested it appears intended to “dilute the idolization” of the late founder Kim Il Sung or reduce his symbolic influence​

. Furthermore, North Korean media reports on the 2025 race omitted the usual mention of the “Day of the Sun” (Kim Il Sung’s birthday) which traditionally is cited as the reason for holding the marathon​

. These omissions are striking because such reverence for Kim Il Sung has been standard for decades. Their absence may signal a deliberate effort to reorient national events toward the present leadership. Analysts note that in recent years Kim Jong Un has been subtly redirecting some public commemorations away from his grandfather and father, in order to solidify his own standalone” authority in North Korean ideology​

. By marketing the race simply as Pyongyang’s marathon rather than explicitly tying it to Kim Il Sung, the regime could be testing a new balance in which Kim Jong Un’s era takes center stage over historical legacy. It does not mean Kim Il Sung’s legacy is being abandoned – far from it – but there is a recalibration in emphasis that was visible during this event.

That said, Kim Il Sung’s shadow still loomed in less direct ways. The marathon was held as part of the April holiday season, and the huge mobilization of citizens to cheer, as well as the choice of a route that showcases Pyongyang’s monuments (many of which glorify the Kim family), all serve to honor the regime he founded. Kim Jong Un likely perceives that he can afford to tweak the branding without losing the patriotic sentiment. The renaming to Pyongyang Marathon also has a practical side: it aligns with what foreign runners and international sports circles already call the race, potentially making it more marketable and straightforward for future events​

High-Level Endorsement: Domestically, the 2025 marathon was treated as an event of national importance. Top officials attended the opening ceremony at the stadium – including Vice Premier Pak Jong-gun and the Sports Minister Kim Il-kuk – underscoring the government’s support​

. Kim Jong Un himself did not attend (he rarely if ever appears at the marathon), but it can be assumed the decision to hold the event had his approval at the highest level. The successful execution of the race would reflect well on the officials in charge of sports and tourism, showing loyalty and competence. There is also an element of regime strategy in highlighting sports: by giving the public something to celebrate (North Korean athletes winning, a big festive gathering, etc.), the government provides a controlled outlet for national pride that distracts from economic hardships. It’s worth noting that North Koreans have been facing tough times under tightened sanctions and the pandemic-driven economic slump. A grand sporting spectacle with an international dimension can lift spirits and reinforce the idea that under Kim Jong Un’s leadership, the country is “strong enough to even host foreigners and win the competition”.

Diplomatic Messaging: The marathon’s return also fits into North Korea’s broader diplomatic and economic pivot in the mid-2020s. With nuclear negotiations with the United States stalled and relations with South Korea at a low point, Kim Jong Un’s regime has leaned more on allies like China and Russia. The composition of foreign participants – heavily Chinese and Russian – mirrors this alignment. It quietly sends the message that Pyongyang’s doors are open to friends (even as missiles are pointed at enemies). Additionally, inviting a smattering of Europeans, Africans, and others shows North Korea’s interest in a multipolar outreach, seeking economic partners or at least neutral relationships beyond its immediate neighbors. The absence of Americans and South Koreans at the event, while expected, also telegraphed a message: that normal people from around the world can come to North Korea safely, except those from countries viewed as hostile. This plays into Pyongyang’s narrative that the U.S. and South Korea are the ones isolating themselves by shunning the North, rather than vice versa.

Some experts interpret the timing of the marathon’s comeback as an indicator that North Korea is preparing to reopen more fully and perhaps engage in diplomacy from a position of strength. By first demonstrating that it can control COVID-19 and host a major event successfully, Pyongyang might be paving the way to invite delegations for other purposes (cultural festivals, business conferences, maybe even talks) in the future. Of course, any such hopes must be tempered by the regime’s history of unpredictability. But the marathon did stir optimism in segments of the international travel community and among North Korea watchers that 2025 could see a gradual thaw in people-to-people contact with the DPRK​

Cultural Impact at Home: Within North Korea, resuming the marathon after six years likely had a significant cultural impact. For one, it signaled to the populace that the dangerous pandemic chapter was, in the government’s view, over. Life could have big celebrations again, and even foreigners could come back without bringing disease. This would reinforce the official line that North Korea handled COVID-19 brilliantly – after all, they can now allow an international marathon, something many countries did even during the pandemic but which North Korea refused until it felt absolutely secure. Additionally, younger North Koreans who came of age during the 2020-2022 period of extreme isolation may have never seen a foreigner in person before. The marathon gave some of them that first glance. It might be carefully managed exposure, but it’s exposure nonetheless to a world beyond their borders. The cultural message domestically is a mix of national pride (seeing their athletes win and their capital city impress visitors) and cautious openness (showing that North Koreans can host and interact with foreigners under the Party’s guidance).

Finally, the marathon’s success provides a template for other events. North Korea also hosts the Mass Games (a large gymnastics and arts performance) and has talked of reviving tourism to scenic areas like Mt. Kumgang. A smoothly run marathon bolsters confidence for those ventures. It demonstrates to the regime that it is possible to welcome outsiders again without losing control. As one North Korean slogan might put it, “We open our door, but on our terms.” The positive coverage and lack of any incidents during the marathon will likely encourage Kim Jong Un’s government to continue this calibrated opening, especially if the economic payoff is evident.

Conclusion

The return of the Pyongyang International Marathon in 2025 represents more than just a footrace – it encapsulates North Korea’s cautious emergence from years of self-imposed isolation. Historically one of the country’s most notable international events, the marathon’s revival after a six-year hiatus offered a stage for athletic prowess, tourism revival, and political messaging all at once. North Korean runners reclaimed their dominance on the road, a stadium of 50,000 cheered in unison after silent years, and hundreds of foreign guests got a controlled taste of Pyongyang’s cityscape. For the runners, it was an unforgettable race through a land few get to visit; for the regime, it was a calculated step toward normalizing international engagement without loosening its grip on narrative or security.

As the dust settles on Kim Il Sung Stadium’s track, the 2025 Pyongyang Marathon will be remembered as a milestone in the post-pandemic landscape of North Korean affairs. It demonstrated the regime’s ability to adapt – to rebrand tradition when it suits, to leverage soft power through sports, and to gingerly reopen to the world when necessary. Whether this leads to broader openings (such as a return of regular tourism or cultural exchanges) remains to be seen. What is clear is that North Korea, through the symbolism of this marathon, has sent a message that it is still standing and still capable of surprising the world in small ways. In the words of one South Korean official, the changes around the 2025 race seem intended to signal a North Korea that is “diluting” old idolatries and cautiously crafting a new narrative​

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 – one eye fixed on internal unity under Kim Jong Un, and the other looking toward renewed connections abroad.