A History of North Korea’s Launch Vehicles

From Artillery to Orbit

The history of North Korea’s launch vehicles is a narrative of relentless ambition, remarkable engineering focus, and strategic patience. It’s a story that begins not with aspirations of space, but with the pragmatic need for long-range artillery. For the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), the rocket is the ultimate guarantor of regime survival, a tool of diplomacy, a source of national pride, and a critical component of its military identity. From its humble origins reverse-engineering foreign missiles, the DPRK has methodically, and against a backdrop of intense international sanctions, built an arsenal that includes satellites in orbit and intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) theoretically capable of striking targets across the globe.

This journey is defined by a central, inescapable concept: dual-use technology. A rocket that can place a satellite into orbit follows almost the same engineering principles as a rocket that can deliver a warhead to another continent. The primary differences are the trajectory and the payload. North Korea has consistently used this ambiguity to its advantage, framing its long-range rocket tests as peaceful satellite launches for scientific and economic purposes. The international community, led by the United States and its allies, Japanand South Korea, has viewed these launches as a transparent cover for developing and proving its ICBM technology, leading to rounds of escalating United Nations Security Council resolutions.

To understand this history is to understand the DPRK’s core strategic doctrine. Lacking a modern air force or a blue-water navy to project power, its asymmetric investments have been in nuclear weapons and the means to deliver them. The launch vehicle, in all its forms, is the lynchpin of this strategy. This article traces the evolution of these vehicles, from their simple beginnings as Scud copies to the sophisticated, multi-stage, solid-and-liquid-fueled rockets that are a defining feature of its modern military and political identity.

The Seeds of Ambition: Soviet Scud and Early Replication (1970s-1980s)

The story of North Korean rocketry begins with the Soviet Union, but indirectly. During the 1960s and 1970s, North Korean founder Kim Il Sung established a national policy of Juche, or self-reliance. This extended to the military, with the goal of “all-fortressization” of the country. He sought missile technology from his main patrons, the Soviet Union and China, but was largely rebuffed. Neither wanted to arm their unpredictable ally with such potent offensive weapons.

The opportunity came from the Middle East. North Korea provided military support, including pilots, to a coalition of Arab states during the 1973 Yom Kippur War. As part of its complex diplomatic and military dealings in the region, Egypt had acquired a stockpile of Soviet-made Scud-B missiles (also known as the R-17E). Sometime between the late 1970s and early 1980s, Egypt transferred a small number of these Scud-B missiles, along with their mobile transporter erector launchers (TELs), to North Korea, possibly as payment for its assistance in the war.

Reverse Engineering: The Hwasong-5

For North Korean engineers, these missiles were a technical education. They immediately began a meticulous reverse-engineering program. The Scud-B was a single-stage, road-mobile, liquid-propellant missile. It was a mature, reliable design, but it was also a complex piece of 1960s-era technology. It required mastering the fabrication of the airframe, the intricacies of its liquid-fuel engine (which used a toxic, hypergolic mix of kerosene and nitric acid), and the complexities of its simple inertial navigation system (INS).

The process was slow and difficult. The first North Korean-produced missile, a direct copy of the Scud-B, was not test-fired until 1984. This missile, known in the West as the Scud-B and by North Korea as the Hwasong-5, was functionally identical to the Soviet original. It had a range of approximately 300 kilometers, just enough to strike targets in South Korea, including the capital, Seoul, from launch positions north of the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ).

Building a Foundation

The successful replication of the Scud-B was a pivotal moment. It proved that, given a template, North Korea’s engineers could create a functional ballistic missile. More importantly, it established the industrial and scientific foundation for everything that followed. Factories were built to machine engine parts, mix propellants, and fabricate airframes. The Academy of Defence Science (ADS), the country’s military research and development organization, began to accumulate the human capital and practical experience needed for more ambitious projects.

This new capability was not just for domestic use. North Korea quickly became a key supplier of Scud-B missiles and Hwasong-5 variants to other nations, most notably Iran during the “War of the Cities” in the Iran-Iraq War. This proliferation served two purposes: it generated desperately needed hard currency for the isolated regime, and it established a network of co-development and technology exchange that would prove beneficial in the years to come.

With the Hwasong-5 in serial production, North Korean engineers immediately turned their attention to the next logical step: making it better. They weren’t just interested in copying the Scud; they wanted to improve it. This led to the development of the Hwasong-6, an upgraded version known in the West as the Scud-C. By modifying the airframe to hold more propellant and slightly reducing the weight of the warhead, they stretched the missile’s range to 500 kilometers. This new variant could hold nearly all of South Korea at risk.

But the real ambition lay not in stretching the Scud’s design, but in superseding it. They wanted to create something new.

The First Indigenous Strides: Nodong and the Leap in Capability (1990s)

The Hwasong-5 and Hwasong-6 were iterative improvements. The Nodong-1 (or Rodong-1) was a quantum leap. Developed during the late 1980s and early 1990s, the Nodong represented North Korea’s first major indigenous ballistic missile design. While it was still based on Scud technology, it was not a copy. It was a scaled-up, re-engineered, and far more powerful system.

The Nodong: A New Class of Missile

The core challenge of the Nodong program was scaling. The engineers took the Scud’s engine design and, through ingenuity and likely some foreign assistance, managed to create a larger, more powerful engine. This new engine, paired with a significantly larger airframe, created a missile with a diameter of 1.3 meters (compared to the Scud’s 0.88 meters).

The result was a new class of weapon: a medium-range ballistic missile (MRBM). The Nodong had a theoretical range of 1,000 to 1,300 kilometers. This was a strategic game-changer. A 300-km or 500-km Scud derivative could only threaten South Korea. A 1,300-km Nodong missile could threaten all of South Korea and, for the first time, large parts of Japan, including U.S. military bases on Okinawa.

Proliferation and Early Testing

The Nodong was developed in parallel with a missile program in Pakistan. It’s widely understood that North Korea shared or sold the Nodong design to Pakistan, where it became the basis for the Ghauri-I missile. Iranalso acquired the technology, which it developed into its Shahab-3 MRBM. This three-way technology-sharing arrangement accelerated the development for all parties, creating a web of proliferation that would define the missile landscape of the 1990s and 2000s.

The Nodong’s first and only known test flight occurred in May 1993. A single missile was launched from a site near Wonsan into the Sea of Japan (East Sea of Korea). The test was only partially successful; the missile flew about 500 kilometers before falling into the sea, well short of its potential range. But the message was sent. North Korea had a new, powerful missile, and it had demonstrated its willingness to test it.

The Nodong’s development set the stage for North Korea’s next, and far more audacious, goal. Having built a missile that could strike regional adversaries, they now set their sights on a rocket that could cross oceans and, just possibly, reach space. The Nodong was not an end in itself; it was a building block. It was about to become the first stage of North Korea’s first space launch vehicle.

Reaching for Space: The Taepodong-1 and the 1998 “Shock”

On August 31, 1998, North Korea did something that stunned the world. From a coastal launch site at Musudan-ri (Tonghae Satellite Launching Ground), it test-fired a new, multi-stage rocket. This rocket, dubbed the Taepodong-1 by Western intelligence (and named Paektusan-1 by North Korea), flew directly over the main Japanese island of Honshu, triggering air raid alerts and a wave of political panic in Tokyo. The rocket’s stages fell into the Pacific Ocean.

The United States and Japan initially condemned the launch as a provocative ballistic missile test. North Korea’s response was a surprise: a few days later, on September 4, its state media announced that the launch had not been a missile test at all. It claimed it had successfully placed its first satellite, Kwangmyŏngsŏng-1(Bright Star 1), into orbit to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the DPRK’s founding. The satellite, it claimed, was orbiting the Earth broadcasting the “Song of General Kim Il Sung” and “Song of General Kim Jong Il.”

A Multi-Stage Design

The Taepodong-1 was a masterpiece of frugal engineering, a “kit-bash” of existing North Korean technology. It was a three-stage rocket:

• First Stage: A modified Nodong-1 MRBM.
• Second Stage: A modified Hwasong-6 (Scud-C) SRBM.
• Third Stage: A small, solid-propellant motor, likely based on a surface-to-air missile.

This design demonstrated that North Korean engineers understood the fundamental principle of multi-stage rocketry: shedding weight (the spent stages) to allow the upper stages to gain more and more velocity. The use of a Nodong as the first stage and a Scud as the second stage was a logical, if crude, way to combine their two most powerful proven systems.

Kwangmyŏngsŏng-1: Satellite or Propaganda?

The international community was deeply skeptical of North Korea’s claim. U.S. Space Command and other international observers searched the skies and found no evidence of any new object in orbit. The consensus was, and remains, that the launch was a failure. The rocket’s third stage likely failed to ignite or malfunctioned, and the tiny, 72-faced polyhedral satellite fell back to Earth with the final stage.

But for North Korea, the launch was a significant propaganda victory. Domestically, the regime announced it was now a “space-faring” nation. Internationally, it had proven its most important point.

International Reaction and the Dual-Use Dilemma

The 1998 launch, regardless of its success or failure as a satellite attempt, was a political and strategic watershed. It demonstrated that North Korea had a rocket with a potential range of 2,500 kilometers or more. It had overflown a neighboring country, a major U.S. ally, without warning. And it had shown it was working on multi-stage technology, the absolute prerequisite for building an ICBM.

The “dual-use dilemma” was now at the forefront of international policy. Was North Korea a fledgling space power peacefully exploring the cosmos, or a rogue state aggressively developing a long-range strike capability under a thin civilian guise? For most of the world, the answer was obvious. The United Nations Security Council condemned the launch. Japan, feeling directly threatened, began to invest heavily in ballistic missile defense (BMD) systems in cooperation with the United States.

The Taepodong-1 launch, despite its failed payload, was a technical and political success for the DPRK. It cemented their long-range rocket program as a top-tier national priority. It also drew a clear line in the sand, provoking a U.S. diplomatic response that led to a temporary missile-test moratorium. But North Korea’s engineers were not idle. They were already working on a much, much larger rocket.

The “Great Failure” and a Moratorium: The Taepodong-2 (2000s)

After the 1998 launch, North Korea entered a period of negotiation with the United States under the Clinton administration, culminating in a 1999 moratorium on long-range missile tests. This moratorium held, more or less, for several years. During this time work continued. Satellite imagery showed the construction of a much larger and more sophisticated launch complex at Musudan-ri. And engineers were busy designing the successor to the Taepodong-1.

This new rocket, dubbed Taepodong-2 by the West, was not a “kit-bash.” It was a purpose-built, large-scale launcher. Its design was a significant leap, featuring a new, larger first stage. While the Taepodong-1 had a Nodong (1.3m diameter) as its first stage, the Taepodong-2 had a new core booster with a diameter of around 2.4 meters. The second stage was a Nodong. This was a true ICBM-class system.

The 2006 Launch Failure

The moratorium on testing collapsed in the mid-2000s amid deteriorating relations with the Bush administration. On July 5, 2006, North Korea conducted a series of missile tests, launching at least seven missiles, including short-range Scuds and medium-range Nodongs. The centerpiece of this event was the first-ever test of the Taepodong-2.

It was a catastrophic, public failure. The rocket, a massive liquid-fueled vehicle, was launched from Musudan-ri. It failed just 40 seconds into its flight, exploding in a fireball and crashing into the sea nearby. The failure was a deep embarrassment, but it was also a wealth of data for foreign intelligence agencies. It confirmed the existence of the new, large-diameter booster and signaled the DPRK’s clear intent to master long-range systems. The United Nations Security Council responded with Resolution 1695, condemning the launches and demanding North Korea suspend its ballistic missile activities.

The 2009 Launch: Unha-2 and Kwangmyŏngsŏng-2

North Korea went back to the drawing board. It also began building an entirely new, modern, and larger launch facility: the Sohae Satellite Launching Station (also known as Tongchang-ri) on its west coast. The location was strategically chosen. Launching from the west coast, southwards, would avoid overflying Japan and allow stages to drop into open water.

Before Sohae was complete they tried again from the old Musudan-ri site. On April 5, 2009, North Korea launched a three-stage rocket it called the Unha-2 (Galaxy-2). This was the space-launch variant of the Taepodong-2 design. The country again claimed it was a peaceful satellite launch, this time to place the Kwangmyŏngsŏng-2 “communications satellite” into orbit.

This launch was more successful than the 2006 attempt, but still a failure. The rocket’s first and second stages separated correctly, and the rocket flew for several thousand kilometers. However, the third stage and its payload failed to achieve orbital velocity and, like its predecessor, splashed down in the Pacific Ocean.

Once again, North Korea claimed success. Once again, U.S. Space Command tracked the objects and confirmed that nothing had reached orbit. The international reaction was swift. UN Security Council Resolution 1874 was passed, strengthening sanctions and condemning the launch as a clear violation of Resolution 1695. The launch’s “dual-use” nature was explicitly cited; the UN stated that any launch using ballistic missile technology, regardless of the stated payload, was a violation.

This set the new precedent: for the UN, there was no longer a distinction between a “satellite launch” and a “missile test.” For North Korea, this hardened their resolve to pursue both, under the civilian banner of their newly established space agency.

The Unha Era: Achieving Orbital Success (2012)

The 2009 launch was the last from the aging Musudan-ri facility. The future of North Korea’s space program, and its parallel ICBM development, was now at the new, state-of-the-art Sohae Satellite Launching Station. This facility was a massive leap in capability, featuring a 10-story-tall gantry tower, a modern launch pad with propellant storage, and a rail-mounted processing building that allowed a rocket to be assembled horizontally and then rolled out and erected for launch. This was how professional space programs operated.

The Rise of Kim Jong Un and a New Focus

In December 2011, Kim Jong Il died, and his young son, Kim Jong Un, took power. One of his first major acts was to signal continuity and strength. He scheduled a major space launch to celebrate the 100th anniversary of his grandfather Kim Il Sung’s birth in April 2012.

The timing was diplomatically fraught. The Obama administration had just weeks earlier, on February 29, 2012, announced a “Leap Day Deal.” The United States would provide 240,000 metric tons of food aid to North Korea in exchange for a moratorium on nuclear tests, uranium enrichment, and long-range missile launches. North Korea argued that a “satellite launch” was not a “missile launch” and proceeded. The United States disagreed, stating it violated the spirit and letter of the agreement, and canceled the aid.

The Unha-3 Launcher

The rocket for this launch was the Unha-3, an improved version of the Unha-2. It was a three-stage, liquid-propellant rocket.

• First Stage: A cluster of four Nodong engines (a design derived from the Taepodong-2’s first stage).
• Second Stage: A single Nodong engine.
• Third Stage: A new, smaller liquid-fuel engine (a change from the Taepodong-1’s solid motor).

This was a complex and powerful vehicle, and in a rare move of transparency, North Korea invited foreign journalists to the Sohae complex to “prove” the peaceful nature of the launch.

The April 2012 Failure: A Public Humiliation

On April 13, 2012, with the world’s media watching, the Unha-3 lifted off. It was a spectacular, immediate, and humiliating failure. The rocket began to cartwheel just 80 to 90 seconds after launch, broke apart high in the atmosphere, and fell into the Yellow Sea. The failure, in front of invited press and on the eve of their most important national holiday, was a major blow to the regime’s prestige.

The failure was also a gift to South Korea. Its navy quickly salvaged large pieces of the rocket’s first stage from the seabed. This wreckage provided the first hard, physical evidence of North Korea’s rocket technology. Analysts who examined the debris confirmed it was based on a cluster of Nodong engines, but also noted the use of more sophisticated components, including some imported materials, in violation of sanctions.

The December 2012 Success: Kwangmyŏngsŏng-3 Unit 2

The Kim Jong Un regime moved with astonishing speed. Its engineers, having analyzed the April failure, corrected the flaws. Just eight months later, on December 12, 2012, they launched a second, identical Unha-3 rocket.

This time, it worked.

The rocket lifted off flawlessly from Sohae. The stages separated as planned. North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) tracked the launch and confirmed that North Korea had successfully placed an object into low Earth orbit. North Korea claimed the satellite, Kwangmyŏngsŏng-3 Unit 2 (the April attempt was Unit 1), was a scientific “earth observation” satellite.

With this single launch, North Korea had joined an exclusive club. It became the tenth country in history to successfully launch its own satellite into orbit using its own rocket.

Analyzing the Unha-3: A Dedicated SLV?

The December 2012 success was a technical triumph. It demonstrated mastery of multi-stage separation, liquid-fuel engine clustering, and orbital insertion. It also proved, beyond any doubt, that North Korea possessed all the foundational technologies for an ICBM. An Unha-3, flown on a ballistic trajectory rather than an orbital one, would have a range of over 10,000 kilometers, capable of reaching large parts of the western United States.

The Unha-3 was a poor ICBM. It was a liquid-fueled rocket that took days to assemble and fuel on the pad, making it completely vulnerable to a pre-emptive strike. It was a technical demonstrator for ICBM technology, not a practical weapon itself.

North Korea repeated its success on February 7, 2016, launching another Unha-3 rocket (in this case, just called the Kwangmyŏngsŏng) to place the Kwangmyŏngsŏng-4 satellite in orbit. This launch was timed to defy new international sanctions following its fourth nuclear test a month earlier.

The Unha era had proven North Korea’s orbital capability. But its missile program was about to undergo a radical, and far more dangerous, transformation. The days of Scud-based, fixed-gantry launchers were numbered.

The “Byungjin” Line: A New Generation of Liquid-Fuel ICBMs (2016-2017)

Following the 2012 and 2016 satellite launches, Kim Jong Un formally announced his Byungjin or “parallel development” policy: the simultaneous pursuit of a nuclear arsenal and economic development. In practice, the rocket program entered a revolutionary new phase. The old, Scud-based technology of the Hwasong, Nodong, and Unha rockets was being retired. It was being replaced by a new, far more powerful and mobile family of missiles.

The Pektusan Engine: A High-Thrust Powerplant

The technological leap that enabled this new generation was an engine. In September 2016, North Korea conducted a high-profile ground test of a new, powerful liquid-fuel rocket engine. Kim Jong Un personally supervised the test, which was hailed by state media as a “great leap” in rocket technology.

Analysts quickly identified this engine as being based on the Soviet RD-250 engine, which powered the R-36 ICBM. The RD-250 is a high-thrust, high-efficiency engine that uses hypergolic (self-igniting) propellants: Unsymmetrical dimethylhydrazine (UDMH) and dinitrogen tetroxide (N2O4). This propellant mix is more energetic than the Scud’s kerosene/nitric acid and, importantly, is storable. This means a missile can be fueled and kept in a state of readiness for weeks or months, unlike the old Scuds that had to be fueled just before launch.

How North Korea acquired this 1960s-era Soviet design is a matter of debate. The most likely theory is that the designs or actual engines were acquired from the Ukraine or Russia during the chaotic collapse of the Soviet Union in the 1990s. North Korean engineers then spent two decades mastering, modifying, and preparing it for domestic production. They named their version the “March 18 Revolution” engine, or more commonly, the Pektusan engine (after Mount Paektu, the mythical birthplace of the Korean people).

This single engine, and its variants, became the heart of North Korea’s entire modern liquid-fuel ICBM fleet.

The 2017 Testing Campaign

The year 2017 was a firestorm of missile development. Having tested the engine in 2016, North Korea began flight-testing the missiles it powered in a rapid-fire sequence.

Hwasong-12: The “Guam Killer”

First unveiled in a parade in April 2017, the Hwasong-12 was the first missile to use the new Pektusan engine. It is a single-stage, road-mobile intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM). Its first successful test, on May 14, 2017, was flown on a “lofted” trajectory – almost straight up and down – to avoid overflying Japan. It reached an altitude of over 2,100 km. Analysts calculated that if flown on a normal, “flatter” trajectory, it had a range of 4,500 to 5,000 kilometers.

This range was strategically significant. It was not an ICBM, but it could easily strike U.S. military bases on the island of Guam, a key hub of American power in the Pacific. North Korea later proved this point by launching two more Hwasong-12s in August and September 2017 on normal trajectories over Japan, which flew thousands of kilometers into the Pacific Ocean and triggered a new international crisis.

Hwasong-14: The First “ICBM”

The Hwasong-12 was just the first stage of a more ambitious plan. On July 4, 2017 – a symbolic “gift” to the United States on its Independence Day (United States) – North Korea launched the Hwasong-14. This was a two-stage missile. Its first stage was the Hwasong-12, and it had a new, smaller second stage.

This launch was also highly lofted, reaching an altitude of over 2,800 km. The implications were chilling: on a standard trajectory, the Hwasong-14 had a range of 8,000 to 10,000 kilometers. For the first time, North Korea had demonstrated a missile that could reach Alaska, Hawaii, and possibly the U.S. West Coast. The “intercontinental” barrier had been broken.

Hwasong-15: A Monster Missile

The world was still digesting the Hwasong-14 when, just a few months later, North Korea unveiled something even more powerful. On November 29, 2017, it launched the Hwasong-15.

The Hwasong-15 was a different beast entirely. It was a massive, two-stage liquid-fuel ICBM.

• First Stage: Used two Pektusan engines, side-by-side, for double the thrust.
• Second Stage: A new, larger second stage, likely powered by a modified steering engine.

It was launched from a new, massive 9-axle (18-wheel) Transporter Erector Launcher (TEL). The sheer size of this TEL suggested North Korea was now domestically manufacturing these complex vehicles, bypassing sanctions that had targeted their previous, smaller, Chinese-made TELs.

The Hwasong-15’s test flight was staggering. It flew on a lofted trajectory for 53 minutes, reaching a peak altitude of nearly 4,500 kilometers before splashing down in the Sea of Japan. The physics were undeniable. A rocket that can lift a payload to 4,500 km can hurl that same payload much further. The Hwasong-15 had a range of over 13,000 kilometers.

This missile could, without question, deliver a nuclear warhead to any city in the continental United States. It was the culmination of the Byungjin policy, the credible nuclear deterrent Kim Jong Un had been seeking. After this launch, Kim Jong Un declared that North Korea had “finally realized the great historic cause of completing the state nuclear force.” He announced a new, self-imposed moratorium on nuclear and ICBM testing as he prepared for a round of high-stakes diplomacy, which would include summits with the U.S. President.

But the liquid-fuel line, while powerful, was only one half of the “parallel development.” An even more dangerous technology was maturing in the shadows.

The Solid-Fuel Revolution: A Strategic Game-Changer

Liquid-fueled missiles like the Hwasong-15 are immensely powerful, but they have a critical weakness. The hypergolic propellants are toxic, corrosive, and dangerous. Fueling a missile is a slow, hazardous process that can take hours. This “launch preparation time” makes the missile and its crew vulnerable. A satellite can spot a liquid-fuel ICBM being rolled out and fueled, giving an enemy a clear window for a pre-emptive strike.

Solid-propellant missiles solve this problem. In a solid-fuel rocket, the fuel and oxidizer are pre-mixed into a stable, solid block (the “grain”) inside the missile’s casing. The missile is built in a factory, fueled, and then sealed. It can be stored, transported, and kept on high alert for years. When the order comes, it can be erected and launched in minutes, not hours.

For North Korea, mastering solid fuel was the key to building a survivable nuclear force – one that could ride out a first strike and still be able to launch a retaliatory attack.

The Pukguksong Series: Submarine-Launched Ballistic Missiles

North Korea’s solid-fuel ambitions first appeared in the maritime domain. The goal was to build a submarine-launched ballistic missile (SLBM). An SLBM is the ultimate second-strike weapon, as a nuclear-powered submarine can hide in the ocean for months, making its missiles nearly impossible to find and destroy.

This was an enormous technical challenge. It required not just a solid-fuel missile, but also a submarine to carry it and the technology to launch a missile from under the water (a “cold-launch” system that ejects the missile to the surface before its engine ignites).

Pukguksong-1 (KN-11)

Throughout 2014 and 2015, North Korea conducted numerous tests of this new system, which it called the Pukguksong-1 (Polaris-1, or KN-11). Early tests from a submerged barge often failed. But on August 24, 2016, it all came together. A Pukguksong-1 was successfully launched from a submarine, flying 500 kilometers. It was a two-stage, solid-fuel missile.

Pukguksong-2 (KN-15): A Land-Based Variant

Just as North Korea had adapted its Scud technology, it immediately adapted its new solid-fuel motor. In February 2017, North Korea tested the Pukguksong-2 (KN-15). This was essentially a Pukguksong-1 missile modified for land use and placed on a new, tracked TEL. A tracked vehicle, like a tank, can go off-road, making it even harder to find than a wheeled TEL, which is restricted to roads and hard-packed ground. This was a clear sign that the solid-fuel motors were robust and adaptable.

The Pukguksong series continued to evolve. North Korea has since shown off the Pukguksong-3, -4, -5, and -6 in parades and state media, each appearing larger and more advanced. These represent a clear, ongoing effort to build a credible, sea-based nuclear deterrent. But the most important application of this new solid-fuel technology was yet to come.

The Modern ICBM Force: Liquid and Solid (2020-Present)

After the 2017 Hwasong-15 launch and the 2018 diplomatic thaw, the missile testing moratorium held for several years. But behind the scenes, the work never stopped. In October 2020, at a military parade, North Korea shocked the world again.

The Hwasong-17: The “Monster” Revealed

Rolling through Kim Il Sung Square was a missile so large it was dubbed the “Monster ICBM” by analysts. It was carried on an enormous, 11-axle (22-wheel) TEL. This was the Hwasong-17.

The Hwasong-17 is the largest road-mobile, liquid-fueled ICBM in the world. It is a two-stage liquid-fuel missile.

• First Stage: A cluster of four Pektusan engines.
• Second Stage: A new, large second stage.

This missile is a behemoth. Its purpose is not just to reach the United States; it’s to do so with an enormous payload. The Hwasong-17 is believed to be designed to carry Multiple Independently-targetable Reentry Vehicles (MIRVs). A MIRVed missile can carry 3, 4, or more individual warheads, all of which can be aimed at different targets (e.g., different cities, or multiple missile silos). This technology is a nightmare for missile defense systems, which are designed to intercept one, or perhaps two, incoming warheads. A MIRV attack could simply overwhelm them with numbers.

North Korea began testing the Hwasong-17 in 2022. After a few failures (one of which reportedly crashed near Pyongyang), a successful full-range test was conducted on March 24, 2022, though it was later assessed by U.S. and South Korean intelligence that this launch was actually a Hwasong-15, disguised as the more powerful missile for propaganda.

True, unambiguous Hwasong-17 tests followed in late 2022 and 2023, confirming the “monster” was real and functional. It represents the absolute pinnacle of North Korea’s liquid-fuel technology line.

Hwasong-18: The Solid-Fuel ICBM

As impressive as the Hwasong-17 is, it still has the vulnerability of all liquid-fuel rockets. The strategic prize remained a solid-fuel ICBM.

On April 13, 2023, North Korea tested it. The Hwasong-18 is a large, three-stage, solid-fuel ICBM. It was launched from a canister on a TEL using a “cold-launch” system (the missile is “popped” out of the tube by gas pressure before its main engine ignites), a technique that is safer and more mobile.

This was the weapon analysts had feared. The Hwasong-18 has all the range of the liquid-fueled Hwasong-15 or -17, but with all the advantages of a solid-fuel missile. It can be hidden in a tunnel, driven out, and launched in minutes. It is the ultimate survivable deterrent. North Korea has tested the Hwasong-18 several times since, with each launch demonstrating its reliability.

The Implications of a Mixed Force

Today, North Korea is pursuing a sophisticated “mixed” force.

• The Hwasong-17 (Liquid): A massive, liquid-fuel “first-strike” weapon, designed to deliver a heavy MIRV payload to overwhelm enemy defenses.
• The Hwasong-18 (Solid): A survivable, solid-fuel “second-strike” weapon, designed to be hidden and launched in retaliation, guaranteeing a counter-punch.

This two-pronged ICBM strategy, combined with their IRBMs (Hwasong-12), SLBMs (Pukguksong series), and a vast arsenal of short-range missiles, gives North Korea a layered, flexible, and deeply dangerous deterrent.

A New Space Race: Chollima and Military Reconnaissance (2023-Present)

Even as the ICBM program reached maturity, the “peaceful” space program that had provided its cover re-emerged. But this time, the goal wasn’t just propaganda. Kim Jong Un had identified a critical military weakness: a lack of space-based Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (ISR). To target its new ICBMs, North Korea needed to be able to find and track U.S. and South Korean forces. It needed its own spy satellites.

The Chollima-1: A New Solid-Fuel SLV

The Unha rocket, based on 1990s-era Nodong technology, was obsolete. To launch its new military reconnaissance satellites, North Korea unveiled a new space launch vehicle: the Chollima-1 (named after a mythical winged horse).

The Chollima-1 is a three-stage rocket that, in a reversal, borrows from the new solid-fuel programs. It is a new, agile rocket designed for quick launches. Its first test, on May 31, 2023, was a failure. The rocket, carrying the Malligyong-1 (Telescope-1) spy satellite, lifted off from the Sohae launch site but suffered a failure in its second-stage engine. The wreckage, including the satellite, fell into the Yellow Sea and was again salvaged by South Korea.

A second attempt was made on August 24, 2023. This launch also failed, this time due to an error in the third-stage emergency “flight termination” system.

The Third Time’s the Charm (November 2023)

The failures were a temporary setback. North Korea publicly identified the flaws and, on November 21, 2023, launched a third Chollima-1 rocket carrying a second Malligyong-1 satellite.

This time, the launch was a perfect success. The rocket placed the satellite into a stable Sun-synchronous orbit. North Korea quickly claimed the satellite was operational and, to prove it, released images it claimed the satellite had taken of Guam, Hawaii, and even the White House and the Pentagon. While the true resolution and capability of the satellite are debated, the strategic fact is not: North Korea now has an “eye in the sky.” This successful launch completed the circle, with the military ICBM program’s technology (solid fuel) now being used to support the military’s space-based ambitions.

The Organizational Structure Behind the Rockets

This decades-long development was not accidental. It has been guided by a focused, state-run industrial and scientific complex.

The Academy of Defence Science (ADS)

The Academy of Defence Science (ADS) is the primary military research and development organization in North Korea. It is the engine of the entire weapons program, responsible for designing and testing everything from the Hwasong-5 to the Hwasong-18. It is a massive, high-priority organization that reports to the highest levels of the state.

The National Aerospace Technology Administration (NATA)

As the missile program matured, North Korea created a civilian “cover” to manage its space launches and interact, however nominally, with the international community. This was originally the National Aerospace Development Administration (NADA), established in 2013. Its logo, a blue globe with the constellation Ursa Major, was widely noted for its striking similarity to NASA’s.

NADA (and its 2023 successor, the National Aerospace Technology Administration (NATA)) is the organization that formally “owns” the Unha and Chollima satellite launchers and the Kwangmyŏngsŏng and Malligyong satellites. This allows the DPRK to claim that its satellite launches are a peaceful, scientific effort by a civilian space agency, separate from the military’s ICBM development under the ADS – even if the rockets, engines, and technologies are one and the same.

Summary

The history of North Korea’s launch vehicles is a story of a singular, generational focus. It evolved from copying 1960s-era Scud missiles into a dual-track program featuring some of the world’s most formidable rocket systems.

The liquid-fuel line progressed from the Scud (Hwasong-5) to a scaled-up regional threat (Nodong), to a failed orbital demonstrator (Taepodong-1). It culminated in the successful Unha-3 satellite launcher, which proved the core technologies for an ICBM. This line was then reinvented with a powerful new Soviet-based engine, creating the modern, road-mobile Hwasong family (12, 14, 15) and the “monster” Hwasong-17, a system designed to overwhelm missile defenses with a heavy MIRV payload.

In parallel, the solid-fuel line created a survivable, sea-based deterrent with the Pukguksong SLBMs. This technology was then scaled up to create the Hwasong-18, a road-mobile, quick-launch solid-fuel ICBM that grants North Korea a credible second-strike capability.

Finally, these two lines of development have converged. The civilian-facing space program, now using the new Chollima launcher, has successfully deployed its first military reconnaissance satellite, giving its long-range missiles the ability to be targeted more effectively.

From the Hwasong-5, which could barely cross the Korean peninsula, to the Hwasong-15 and Hwasong-18, which can reach across the Pacific Ocean, North Korea’s rocket program has achieved its primary objective. It has methodically built a powerful and survivable nuclear deterrent, forcing the world to acknowledge it as a nuclear-armed state and a nation with proven, if nascent, space-faring capability.