I recall, many years ago, several UP academics deemed sympathetic to visions of a proletarian paradise were invited to visit North Korea. They came home gushing about this communist wonderland, writing glowing reports about how marvellous the kindergarten system was in this hermit kingdom and how 100 percent literacy was achieved along with the eradication of poverty.
On hindsight, they pretty much sounded like Noynoy Aquino who, after a hundred days in office, gushed about how comprehensible weather reporting has become under his blessed leadership.
Many of those who joined this forgettable delegation to Pyongyang were considered more or less competent scholars. They were generally considered sane before they left. But after they returned and wrote the reports they did, I nursed this deep suspicion that somewhere in the dark recesses of this communist capital their brains must have been subjected to brutal electric shock therapy. Their reputations, at the very least, never recovered from what they reported after that trip.
How could they all have missed the telltale signs of a distressed — and distressing — political arrangement.
The average North Korean is smaller and lighter than the average South Korean, indicating a seriously deficient diet even in the best of times. Over the last two decades, persistent famine has been reported in this poor country, prompting regular aid convoys from both South Korea and China.
It is estimated that at least 20 percent of the population of North Korea is employed in its military services. The share of the military in the budget pie is probably much more than that. Consequently, its agriculture is a disaster. There is no real consumer goods sector. Radio and television are rare luxuries, and media content is tightly regulated.
North Korea is one of a really small number of countries that is not connected to the internet. The smallest hint of dissent is dealt with brutally. Its citizens are taught to worship the Dear Leader so that they actually (and sincerely) weep with joy at the sight of Kim Jong Il.
This country is not just removed from this world and this age. It exists in a virtual separate universe.
Last Sunday, on the occasion of the communist state’s 65th anniversary, foreign journalists were invited to Pyongyang. They were treated to a Stalinist extravaganza.
An estimated 20 thousand soldiers marched in perfect lock-step, parading with their antiquated hardware. Two Mercedes Benz limousines straight out of the sixties carried the top brass through the parade site.
Later in the day, tens of thousands of young North Koreans performed well-choreographed dances. The spectacle of so many people forming colourful images in formation is a treat possible only in a country like this.
No other country in the world today is impressed by the sight of infantry marching in perfect formation. No other country entices its citizens to spend weeks and months rehearsing for the spectacle of tens of thousands of participants in well-choreographed movements.
While the official excuse for the festivities at Kim Il Sung Square was the 65th year of Stalinist rule in this forsaken land, the real purpose of this perverse festival was to introduce Kim Jong Un, youngest son of Kim Jong Il, as the country’s next ruler.
For all intents and purposes, North Korea is a kingdom thinly disguised as a proletarian dictatorship. Its present ruler, Kim Jong Il succeeded his father Kim Il Sung. Now, with Jong Il rumored to be terminally ill, he has appointed his son Jong Un as his successor.
A few weeks ago, a full congress of the Korean Workers’ Party was called. Such an event happens only when a transition in leadership is about to happen. The party congress merely legitimizes the whim of the current leader.
Kim Jong Il, apparently, found neither of his two older sons fit to succeed him. One of those sons was arrested a few years ago trying to sneak into Japan on a fake passport. The purpose of his visit: to enjoy Tokyo Disneyland.
The youngest son, Kim Jong Un, is believed to be only 27 years old. Before the party congress, Kim Jong Il sent unmistakable signals to his obeisant party. He appointed his youngest son, who had no military experience whatsoever, a four-star general.
During the festivities at Kim Il Sung Square last Sunday, the young Jong Un appeared beside his father on the viewing stand. He was, however, garbed in civilian clothes rather than in military uniform, featuring his four stars. Analysts believe the wardrobe decision was taken in consideration of the sensitivities of the old phalanx of North Korean generals who love to strut around weighed down by their collection of medals and their limited stars.
Little is known about Jong Un, save that he was schooled in Switzerland, fluent in both French and English. He is said to be a fan of Michael Jordan and an avid follower of Grade B Hollywood action movies, especially those of Jean-Claude Van Damme.
Nothing is known about his views on foreign policy, his ideas about where to take his limping country from here on and his inclination about bringing his isolated society back into our universe. He has no record of managing anything and has expressed no idea about anything in particular.
North Korea, we know, is a society held together only by the capacity of the state to control what citizens see and what opinions they hold. The main instrument ensuring that capacity is the military establishment. Real power, therefore, is held by the military organization — the Marxist party being nothing more than an ornament that vests some form of legitimacy on an apparatus that actually relies on nothing more than organized violence.
The young Kim Jong Un will probably end up a puppet of the military organization, investing the ruling military clique with the mantle of legitimacy of the Kim dynasty. That is a mantle of legitimacy only because the people have been indoctrinated into worshipping Kim Il Sung and, by extension, his bloodline.
Soon another incompetent scion will be formally invested the trappings of leadership, by virtue of family lineage alone and not because of any demonstrated personal competence.