KOSPI 7500：全球最热的股市，韩国如何在2026年改写格局

You heard that right. Not the US, not China, not India. Korea.

Just this week, on May 7, the KOSPI Composite Index intraday broke 7,500 for the first time ever.

Year-to-date gains stand at a stunning 78 percent.

That number is the highest of any major index in the world — bar none.

And here's what's symbolically even bigger: Korea's total stock market capitalization has just officially overtaken the UK's, vaulting it into the eighth-largest spot globally.

Bear in mind, Korea has 50 million people; the UK has over 60 million.

Korea's GDP is barely 60 percent of the UK's.

But in terms of total capital-market value, Korea has now flipped past.

That alone is a moment worth remembering.

Let's quickly recap the past year's trajectory.

At the end of 2025, KOSPI was hovering near 3,200.

In the opening month of 2026, it reached 4,000.

March broke 5,000, April broke 6,000, and early May broke 7,000 and 7,500 back-to-back.

This kind of pace, in industry parlance, is called "exponential lift-off."

So what has sent Korean stocks into the clouds?

I think there are three forces at work.

The first force is the memory-chip super-cycle unleashed by AI.

This is the core engine, and the hardest fundamental behind this rally.

Open the news and you'll see Nvidia, Google, Amazon, Meta — all sprinting to expand data centers and hoard GPUs.

But few people mention a critical detail: GPUs cannot work alone. They must be paired with a type of chip called HBM, or high-bandwidth memory.

And globally, only two or three companies can mass-produce top-tier HBM — two of them are in Korea: SK Hynix and Samsung Electronics.

Demand exploding, supply constrained — prices naturally rocket.

Samsung Electronics's Q1 2026 operating profit surged 756 percent year-over-year, nearly matching all of last year's profit in a single quarter.

SK Hynix has even become a so-called "emperor stock" — a single name whose rally is enough to move the entire index.

More importantly, these two companies face almost no competition on the most advanced HBM processes.

America's Micron is chasing, but lags by one or two generations in capacity.

Chinese memory firms are stuck behind export controls and can't catch up in the short term.

So the next two-to-three years of orders are essentially Samsung's and Hynix's.

That gives the market the simplest kind of confidence — earnings are predictable, profits are calculable.

Together, these two companies make up nearly half of KOSPI's total market cap.

When they rise, the index rises.

This is why this Korean rally is, fundamentally, a feast led by chip giants.

The second force is the structural reform of Korea's capital markets under the new government.

To understand it, you first need to understand a term — the "Korea Discount."

For a long time, Korean listed companies traded at depressed valuations — not because earnings were poor, but because governance was broken.

Chaebol founders controlled companies, profits weren't shared with minority shareholders, disclosure was opaque, related-party transactions were rampant.

Cross-shareholdings between subsidiaries made it impossible for outside investors to figure out a company's real value.

Worse, Korean listed companies' dividend payout ratios were chronically the lowest in the developed world, year after year below 20 percent.

For comparison, US S&P 500 dividend payouts are around 40 to 50 percent.

This combination — "low dividends, opaque accounting, insider dealing" — earned Korean stocks a massive global discount.

Foreign institutional investors stayed skeptical, and Korean equities just stayed cheap, for decades.

After Lee Jae-myung took office this year, he pushed this agenda forward fast.

He pushed for separate-rate taxation on dividends, encouraging listed companies to pay out.

He strengthened board accountability, restricting chaebol shareholders' freedom to move company assets around.

He expanded financial-regulatory resources and tightened enforcement against market violations.

Most crucially, he made full-on bids to get Korea included in MSCI's Developed Markets Index.

Once the upgrade succeeds, passive-tracking capital would automatically flow into Korea — at the scale of tens of billions of US dollars.

The government also pushed something called a "KOSPI 5000 Plan," with an official target of 5,000 points.

The result: the index didn't even wait for the policy to fully land — it surged past 7,500 on its own.

You can say the policy worked, or you can say the market front-loaded years of good news into a single rally.

Both views are probably valid.

The third force is liquidity.

Once the move forms, the positive-feedback loop kicks in.

Foreigners buy, wealthy locals buy, pension funds buy.

The higher the price, the more money pours in — the more money pours in, the higher the price.

This rally's defining feature is that it's institution-led and foreign-capital-priced.

Individual investors have largely been passive spectators.

And that brings us to the most interesting aspect of this rally — the fracture.

Yes, fracture.

KOSPI is up 78 percent, but the overwhelming majority of ordinary Koreans haven't made money in this rally.

Research data shows that during this entire rally, Korean retail investors have been net sellers.

They sold early, and they haven't bought back in.

A joke circulating in Seoul's financial circles goes: anyone who urged you to buy Samsung last December is a rich person today; anyone who didn't listen is still worrying about rent.

Watching wealthy locals and foreigners pop champagne, many ordinary people have sunk into a collective anxiety.

The media has even coined a new term — "envy tax." Watching others get rich while you've missed out is treated as a hidden psychological cost.

On social platforms, you see a flood of similar posts: young people sharing screenshots of Samsung shares they sold years ago, with a caption like "if I hadn't sold, I could afford a house now."

These feelings are building, one post at a time.

This fracture is more worth remembering than the rally itself.

It tells us: when capital markets decouple from the real economy, when a country's most lucrative assets are controlled by the few and by outside capital, the sense of social tearing gets amplified without limit.

That tearing is now fermenting inside Korea.

So how long can this rally last?

The most authoritative warning comes from Deutsche Bank.

Their strategist Jim Reid recently wrote: Korea's stock market has officially moved from the "undervalued" camp into the "overvalued" camp.

He didn't say it would definitely crash, but he emphasized one line: "Over the long run, valuation always wins."

The meaning is clear — you can decouple from fundamentals in the short run, but not in the long run.

So is this a bubble?

My personal view is: this is not the 2000 dot-com bubble.

Behind it is real AI demand, real HBM scarcity, real profit numbers providing support.

So even if it pulls back, Korea's market may not see a crash-style collapse.

But rising too fast in the short term and stretching valuation too far means any small negative — slower AI demand growth, a delayed Fed cut, a geopolitical shock — could trigger a sharp correction.

For us, the real significance of this Korean rally isn't whether you made money — it's that it reveals one fact: the core nodes of the global tech supply chain are not all in the US.

On the back of two companies, Korea has lifted itself into the eighth-largest stock market in the world.

This shift in the structure of power is far more worth paying attention to than any short-term candlestick.

One last thing I want to say.

When everyone starts paying attention to a market, that's usually when the market is at its most dangerous.

But when everyone starts asking "did I miss it," what you should actually do is understand exactly how this happened — not rush to climb aboard.

Missing one rally isn't scary.

What's scary is failing to understand an era.

That's it for today.

See you next time.