'A few months ago, the [North Korean] Ministry of Interior issued a statement on TV — 'We will remove your existence from the universe'," says Jang Jin-sung, unfazed, over a decade after he fled North Korea in the middle of the day, across the frozen Yalu River and into China.
The cover Jang Jin-Sungs' Dear Leader.
"Here's a dictator so pissed off at me," he jokes.
Since his escape from the most isolated country in the world, Jang has travelled everywhere from Berlin to Bangkok, discussing his book Dear Leader, in which he reveals the inner-workings of the Kim regime, and his prominent role within the propaganda machine.
He spoke to Life at the recent Singapore's Writers Festival.
Jang has a kind face, but speaks no English. In North Korea, Jang was a poet laureate. He wrote epic poems glorifying Kim Jong-il, spending his career speaking and writing like a South Korean in support of the regime.
"Technically, I was a writer. That was my profession. But in real terms, I was a civil servant. Being a poet was being a revolutionary worker," he explains.
"In North Korea, there is no concept of literature. Only a concept of Supreme Leader literature," he says.
There were two sole protagonists, Kim Jong-il and Kim Il-sung. Anything accessible to the public eyes and ear — music, art, film, literature — was controlled by the state.
"People think of the dictatorship like it's a physical force. But North Korea isn't just a physically totalitarian state, it is an emotionally totalitarian state as well."
Jang Jin-sung.
Like every North Korean, Jang grew up with the Supreme Leader.
"I learned the Supreme Leader's name and birthday before I was allowed to learn my mother's name and birthday," says Jang. "When you are born, the first words you speak are 'Supreme Leader'. When you go to nursery, kindergarten, primary school, secondary school, you learn the history of the premier in every grade. When you are five years old, you are taught stories about what Kim Jong-il did when he was five. When you are 12, when he was 12. This way, your whole world view is centred on him. He's the only person who matters."
And also like every North Korean, Jang was convinced of the truth of these stories. Until he finally met Kim Jong-il in person. Before the encounter, he was told standard procedure — you cannot touch him; you must look at his second button, not above, not below, you are not his equal.
"When I met this man, he was just a man. He wasn't the person I had imagined him to be. It was really disappointing," Jang says. He was particularly struck by how short Kim was and that he was wearing high-heeled shoes to make up for it.
Because Kim had taken such a liking to Jang's poem, Jang became one of the "admitted", a high-ranking official who "has been encountered by God" and was granted immunity from most things forbidden. In his book, Jang compares being admitted to winning the lottery in a capitalist world.
For him specifically, a whole new world revealed itself. For his work as a propagandist, he was given access to reading materials from South Korea.
"Isolation is the only thing keeping North Korea together. What is going on there is beyond propaganda. North Korea is writing its own history," Jang says.
The world knows that the Titanic sank on April 15th, 1912, Jang continues. In North Korea, there's a saying, "When the Sun sank in the West, it rose in the East". The day was also Kim Il-sung's birthday.
Jang knew too much. The famine in North Korea the mid-90s gave birth to the slogan "The General with a fistful of rice", describing Kim Jong-il as a man who ate meagre amounts to keep the rest for his people. When Jang met him in 1999, he saw the opulent life Kim led.
He recalls a time when his colleague was sent to a political prison camp. North Korea operates on a system of guilt by association through three generations in the male line. When his colleague was taken away by state security, so was his six-month-old boy. His wife had to denounce her loyalty to him.
"When we were returning, the woman was crying, squeezing her chest. Everyone knew they couldn't show their sympathy. To show sympathy was to show an anti-revolutionary element. If you show sympathy, you are disagreeing with the state's verdict. But we were all crying," he says.
"If you want to survive, to live, to eat, to get promoted, you have to not think about freedom. You have to think about how you could better serve the regime. The moment you think about freedom, you have to give up your prospect of life."
When Jang finally escaped, it was due to an unforeseen circumstance. His friend had misplaced a South Korean book Jang had snuck out of the government building. It was high treason. North Korea fears nothing more than infiltration of knowledge from the outside world. Just last month, North Korean troops fired machine guns at balloons carrying anti-Pyongyang messages sent from South Korean activists across the DMZ.
As soon as he stepped into China, North Korean authorities claimed he was a murderer on the run, allowing them access into Chinese territory. He survived through a series of fortunate events and the kindness of strangers.
"Every North Korean who leaves the country is committing suicide. You have to defy death," he says. His friend Young Min did not make it.
Jang now resides in South Korea. He is the editor of New Focus International, which reports news on North Korea.
"For every writer, his words will hold him accountable, not till the end of his life, but forever," says Jang. He has written lies.
"Freedom now means I can write whatever I want and still succeed," he says. The North Korean regime has worked to silence him, but he does not have the right to remain silent in the free world. "By testifying, I'm already winning."
