What is daily life like in a mental dictatorship? Jang Jin-sung was once part of Kim Jong-il’s inner circle. One of 6 poet laureates in a country where poetry is the most efficient form of propaganda – an indispensable weapon of psychological warfare that is practiced on all who live there.
Dressed in brown sneakers and a dark brown leather jacket, the small, unassuming man, now known as Jang Jin-sung (a pseudonym), defected from North Korea in 2004. He found favour with Kim Jong-il after using the voice of a fictional South Korean poet to promote the idea that the North’s policy of songun, or military first, had been designed to protect South Korea. His epic poem, Spring Rests on the Gun Barrel of the Lord, enjoyed nation-wide publication and a meeting with the leader himself.
Jang Jin-sung was himself born into a family with impeccable revolutionary credentials, by North Korean standards. This allowed him to train as a classical pianist before going on to study literature at Kim Il-sung University. He then went on to join the Central Committee of the North Korean Writers’ Union. Working in the Ministry of Reunification, he was involved in developing the founding myth of North Korea. It began in April 1912 with the sinking of the Titanic. If all this seems a little surreal, Jang’s descriptions of his meetings with Kim Jong-il, are even more so.
Meeting with Kim Jong il.
At their first meeting, in 1999, the young poet was presented with a gold Rolex worth 11 000 US dollars. Between 1994 and 1999, over three million people are believe to have died of hunger in North Korea. His meeting with the North Korean leader also meant that he was guaranteed what was known as ‘sacred immunity’. Granted to only a select few who have spent time in the presence of Kim Jong-il, it meant that he could not be prosecuted without special permission.
Jang Jin-sung recalls how he was blind-folded as he made a complicated journey involving a van, a special train and finally a boat. He finally arrived at a secret, high security island where the leader appeared with a small white puppy. As cries of “Long live the General!” echoed around the sanitized room, two things struck him about the North Korean leader: his 10 cm platform shoes and his embarrassing outburst of tears over a painting. Jang recalls his initial surprise at this bizarre outpouring, given that the country was in the grip of a terrible famine.
Stealing the humanity of others.
However his fear was so great, the young poet began to cry too, like those around him. ‘My tears came easily’, he recalls. Jang later understood the leader’s crying as an attempt to be human. He had never experienced most of the real tragedy that was common to others. And so he tried instead, to ‘steal the humanity’ of others.
It is perhaps difficult to understand the awe with which most North Koreans view their ‘Dear Leader’. Even for someone with Jang’s elite background, he explains that, having been brainwashed from primary school and with textbooks, this man was God. It took some time for him to acknowledge the fact that Kim was an ordinary man. One whose language was sometimes coarse and ungrammatical and who, Jang discovered, had not been groomed for leadership by the Great Leader Kim Il Sung. Rather, Kim Jong-il had wrested it away from his father, who did not in fact believe hereditary succession.
Escape to South Korea.
By North Korean standards, Jang lived a life of luxury. His family had money and power and he was known to friends as ‘the man who always carried at least one thousand American dollars in his wallet’. However, Jang grew increasingly disenchanted with the realities exposed to him as a result of his work. And did something that would leave him and his family open to charges of treason and probable execution. He lent a banned book to a trusted friend. This was the book that traced the true history of the Kim dynasty. Not the mythic version which the poet had had a hand in constructing. When his friend told him that he had forgotten the book on the Pyongyang Metro, Jang knew it was over. ‘I went white’ he told us, ‘Our only option was to flee the regime.’
‘I felt angry and guilty’ – Jang Jin-Sung.
Jang Jin-sung tells us that they had no elaborate plans for escape. Another school friend sold them train tickets that would get them to the northern border with China. From there they planned to cross the Tumen River into China. Jang and his friend used money and contraband to bribe the border guards. Even so, they found themselves sprinting across the frozen river (it was January) in broad daylight, the armed guards shouting behind them. But they made it alive. ‘We were crying but ecstatic’ recalls Jang. ‘ I felt a big fear set free, the fear of escape. But I also felt angry and guilty, for my family and all those who are still trapped without chance of escape.’
Once in China however, things became more difficult for the two fleeing men. Their money ran out and North Korean authorities had alerted the Chinese about the escape of ‘two murderers’. They were desperate to keep Jang and his state secrets from reaching the outside world. Jang’s story of escape reveals how closely Chinese and North Korean authorities worked together to apprehend high-level defectors like Jang. The poet spent a month on the run in north eastern China before reaching the South Korean embassy in Beijing. Sadly, his friend was not so lucky.
Immeasurable personal tragedy.
Jang Jin-sung describes it as an ‘immeasurable personal tragedy’, the moment when a part of his childhood was taken from him. While on the run, he and his friend, Hwang, got separated one night. He later learned that his friend had committed suicide after being captured by the Chinese authorities. The issue of those left behind when defectors make the decision to leave is a painful one. Jang says very little about his family left behind in North Korea. The families of elite defectors are frequently exiled to labour camps and worked to death. ‘There are many things I cannot yet explain’ writes Jang. Clearly thoughts of the fate of his family haunt the poet. Although he has changed his name since arrival in South Korea, it seems unlikely that this will prove sufficient.
Poetry and propaganda.
Jang Jin-sung has published two books since his arrival in South Korea along with two volumes of poetry. As a poet laureate in North Korea, his freedom as a writer was greatly curtailed. In the world’s longest running dictatorship, poetry is used as a weapon with which to wage psychological warfare. He explains that poetry, unlike other literary forms, is short and compact. As such it is extremely effective in conveying political messages succinctly, particularly in a country where paper is scarce. ‘Printing poems costs less’, Jang explains.
‘Selling my daughter for 100 won‘
Jang’s memoir, Crossing the Border, (2013) in English but ‘Crossing the river with poetry in my heart’ in Korean, is a testament to both his escape and the central role that poetry has played in his life. Singled out at age 16 for a poem written in praise of then ruler, Kim il Sung, he wrote poems in private about the suffering he saw around him. In his collection, I am selling my daughter for 100 won (2010), the heart-breaking simplicity of the title poem, captures something of this tragedy.
His longer narrative poem, Kim Jong-il’s last woman, tells the true story of a singer in an elite Bochonbo band who catches the eye of the Dictator himself. But she is already in love with the band’s pianist. The lovers are driven to commit suicide together. However she survives the fall and is treated by the state so that she can be publicly executed 2 months later.
Life in South Korea.
Following Jang Jin-sung’s arrival in South Korea, he worked in intelligence, for the National Security Research Institute and published his first book of poetry, which sold 80 000 copies. Now he is editor-in-chief of New Focus, an online newspaper about North Korea by North Korean exiles. As one of the most senior insiders to escape the dictatorship, Jang is accompanied by an armed guard at all times. Yet in spite of the challenges he has faced, he remains quietly positive and laughs without difficulty. He recalls his first 24 hours in Seoul, wandering about the streets, a little dazed by all the lights, luxury cars and tall buildings. A taxi driver yelled at him to get out of the road and the poet was thrilled. He had been called an arse hole and nothing had happened – he was free!
Freedom is slavery.
‘Truth is the strongest weapon’ he says. Since leaving North Korea, he realises more clearly than ever that North Koreans have no concept of basic human rights. The system is one of both physical and mental enslavement. Public executions, extermination camps, forced labour and complete isolation are the weapons used. They are effective. One historian estimates that one third of those in the extermination camps are there for unknown crimes. While half are there simply as a result of association. Similarities have been drawn between state structures like the Inquisition, used to control and dominate the people of Medieval Europe, and those used in North Korea today. Jang believes that the only future for his country, lies in focusing first and foremost on empowering its people.
The West’s efforts to engage Kim Jong il are therefore futile, as his regime relies on this machinery of control in order to survive. Experts have suggested more practical, economic approaches that might aid the North Korean people. For example, micro-financing for the small-time businessmen who trade with China and greater awareness on the part of Western consumers. ‘Made in China’ is in fact frequently made by North Korean slave labour and only assembled in China. The outlook for North Korea is bleak. As Jang writes, ‘If Hitler was a despot who massacred foreign citizens, Kim Jong Il is a despot who has slaughtered his own people. If this truth is not made known, we cannot find justice.’ Indeed, the country Jang describes bears striking resemblance to the Orwellian Big Brother state of 1984. Slogans like ‘ War is Peace’ and ‘Freedom is Slavery’ seem terrifyingly apt.
‘I want to sacrifice my freedom for the liberation of North Korea’ – Jang Jin-sung.
Jang Jin-sung finishes by explaining his personal journey in more detail. It is one that many in the West may sympathise with but will likely never fully understand. ‘Physically, I have defected from North Korea, but deep in my heart and mind, I will always be with my people and my country.’ He explains that initially, he was greedy about the personal freedom he experienced upon arrival in South Korea. But, now, he tells us, ‘I want to sacrifice my freedom for the liberation of North Korea from its current brutality’. In spite of everything, he assures us that someday, he wants to return to his homeland. ‘Otherwise, all that I did and continue to do for freedom will be meaningless.’