The dictator’s women
One day in July 2012, North Korea’s state media made a grand announcement. The First Lady, Ri Sol-ju, wife of the new leader Kim Jong-un, had attended an official event. This was hugely significant, as it was a first. Until then, no First Lady had ever appeared in this way.
The people were fascinated. Ri wore a short skirt, a sparkling blouse, and high heels, the type of fashion that had long been deemed unacceptable and controlled.
What shocked viewers the most was what was hanging on the left side of her chest. North Koreans are required to pin a Kim family badge over their heart. But Ri sported just a large ribbon.
People were flustered by this exception she created, not knowing how to react.
Two types of responses emerged. Young women cheered and scoured the markets to find clothes in the same style. In short, Ri became a trendsetter, an icon among the young.
The elderly, meanwhile, shook their heads in disapproval. They believed a First Lady should set a good example, and thought she was setting a bad one.
“I don’t think a skirt that short is appropriate,” my uncle said.
“How can a performer become the First Lady?” said another person I know, referring to Ri’s previous job as a singer. “In the old days, she would have been no different than a courtesan.”
What is clear is that, whether for better or worse, her appearance was intense and glamorous. People whispered every time she appeared.
Behind the scenes, certain assumptions became widely accepted as facts. Ri Sol-ju’s appearance was a consequence of Kim Jong-un’s suffering. It was said that he harbored deep pain over his mother, Ko Yong-hui, who was never permitted to appear in public as the leader’s wife. Even her funeral was held in secret.
But regardless of Kim Jong-un’s feelings and wishes, wasn’t that how it was supposed to be? Kim’s father, Kim Jong-il, had too many wives. Which one could he have possibly brought out in public?
I am reminded as I write of a distant relative who became one of Kim Jong-il’s personal secretaries. Her family was very ordinary. One day, she disappeared. The family searched for her, not knowing what had happened. Later, her brother was summoned by someone for a secret reunion with her.
When they met, she couldn’t stop crying. He asked many questions. How are you? Where do you live? She said nothing, but in response took off her watch and handed it to him as a parting gift.
Despite being the dictator’s woman, she had no power. Later, family members hoped they might benefit, but they received no special treatment. Her brother, who had graduated from a military medical school, was shocked when he was assigned to a post in the countryside.
From that moment on, he drowned his feelings in alcohol.
Then one day, after ten years of drinking and lamenting his fate, he received an order. He was to be promoted from his position as a low-ranking military doctor to head of the army’s medical department, the highest rank for a military surgeon. He was thrilled. But his heart, worn out by years of drinking, couldn’t contain the excitement. He died that same night
Even though she was close to the highest authority, it took years for her to be able to help him and it turned out to be too late. The truth was that she was not that significant.
I should mention now another woman who was similarly ordinary but rose to the highest level. Her name is Hyon Song-wol. Once a singer in the Unhasu Orchestra, people began assigning significance to her relationship with Ri Sol-ju when she became the head of the Moranbong Band. In a society like North Korea, where power is absolute, coincidences are impossible.
Those who knew her said she was fickle. It was no secret to anyone at the Kumsong Academy of Music that the members of the Moranbong Band had to work hard to keep up with her ever-changing moods. Most band members had trained at the school, so they were all familiar with this.
Despite her poor reputation, her rise in power never slowed. In October 2017, she became a candidate member of the Central Committee of the ruling Workers’ Party, and two years later she was promoted to the Central Committee.
This shocked me. It wasn’t because Hyon Song-wol was a woman—after all, I oppose patriarchal thinking and support women’s rights. What surprised me was that, no matter how hard I looked, I could find no reason for her promotion. It made no sense. Without any proper resume or career, she became the Deputy Director of the Central Committee.
Isn’t this a modern version of a hiring corruption scandal?
At this point, Hyon was exercising more power than Ri. People began to have reasonable suspicions about who was backing her. We didn’t want to admit it, but eventually, we accepted that there was some kind of relationship between her and Kim Jong-un.
One thing is certain and that is that, unlike his father’s women, the ladies around Kim Jong-un are way more prominent.
Around October 2013, something shocking happened. The members of the Unhasu Orchestra were accused of filming pornographic videos to make money and executed. This was the official charge announced by the Party. Around ten people were sentenced to death.
The entire orchestra was summoned to the execution site to witness the gruesome event. Some fainted. The scene was so horrific that one witness later confessed they could never shake the nightmare of that day, even after time had passed.
The public couldn’t believe the official explanation for the Unhasu incident. The charges simply didn’t make sense. Even if they had filmed such acts, who would sell those recordings? Who would buy them? Moreover, the orchestra members weren’t in such a desperate or impoverished situation that they needed to film and sell such videos.
So, what truly led them to their deaths? People were curious.
We began to whisper. It was widely known that First Lady Ri Sol-ju had been a singer in the orchestra. The members lived together in a dormitory and knew one another well. It is to be expected that under such circumstances, there would have been tension and gossip.
Anyone could be the subject of rumor. But who could have known that a colleague who had once been a topic of casual gossip would become the wife of the god-like leader?
They couldn’t adapt to this sudden change and hold their tongue, and that was what led to their deaths.
Rumors about this circulated at the time. A friend of mine who had a cousin in the orchestra said that they all knew about the First Lady’s ex-boyfriend.
“Only after these executions did the surviving orchestra members learn to fear the First Lady,” she said.
Truly, such power is terrifying. The more I confront the truth about the dictator and those around him, the more disgusted and repulsed I feel. As someone once said, “If you are too far from the sun, you freeze to death, but if you get too close, you burn.”
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