Defecting to the DPRK

 

I respectfully submit this petition to the Government of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, as life in the country where I currently reside has become unbearable, and I humbly request asylum under your protection.

This letter comes from a destitute Third World country, where life is chaotic without cause, people consume one another endlessly, and even the future is awaited with uncertainty. I am an artist. I find it appropriate to call myself an “artist of thought,” because my art is philosophy. This form of art, contrary to the looseness of the modern world, requires totalization.

Throughout my life, I have witnessed countless societies: in Central Europe, the Middle East, Central Asia, and many others. During my travels through these regions, I came to know their cultures intimately. I learned their customs: what they exalted and what they excluded, what they loved and what they despised. I etched all of it into my mind like a record book. And most importantly, I merely observed; I did not merge into the noise.

One crucial observation was that people grounded their identities in these cultures, as though defending something collectively held. There remained a sense of unity, comparable to that possessed by the great people of North Korea around their eternal leaders. Yet something was missing—an unforgivable flaw: they had all begun to liberalize, to loosen. The very forces that held them together were beginning to dissolve.

Even the languages of traditional cultures had begun to be invaded by North American slang. In the remotest Siberian regions, people wore torn Western jackets and tattooed their skin. Beyond that, these new values had become dominant, and those who “could not keep pace”—those who preserved their original cultures—were excluded. It seemed as if the West were conquering the world merely by selling culture from afar. Humanity was gradually ceasing to be human.

My country has also fallen into the grasp of the West. Capitalists have dragged my society into the same swamp. This occurred because the country opened outward in pursuit of mere comfort—because a society with a centuries-long history filled with its people’s pain, like the Korean people, cannot endure otherwise. 

The Chinese, the Russians, and the Japanese: they all descended upon Korea, yet despite the people being crushed beneath these tyrants, they never lost their sense of self and ultimately declared independence with the socialist revolution at the end of the 1940s. But this time there was another enemy, one from across the ocean, inserting itself into everyone’s affairs: the Americans. North Koreans are resolute that even though the Soviets have fallen, it can still strike fear into the United States on its own, with its missiles. 

The fate of African peoples who lack this kind of dedication is clear: Westerners exploited them as they pleased, leaving them without even something to eat. But the North Koreans’ accustomedness to hardship makes them unbreakable, and this unbreakability is what sets them apart from other societies. Ordinary societies seek pleasure, and their policies follow suit. Since pleasure itself is the fundamental instrument of capitalism, it has monopolized all societies, as they are all ordinary. Now, only this loose liberal culture exists in the world.

Walking through the streets of my country, neon signs strike my eyes everywhere—advertisements competing aggressively for attention. Private cars occupy space pointlessly. Everyone eats without pause; they drink without pause. Countless lives are spent entirely in bars and restaurants. What societies truly value is this culture of consumption, and naturally, social status is defined by materialism—that is, a gold watch, a luxury car, and a house with a pool—rather than spiritual depth. The consequence is clear: both consciousness and nature are being destroyed. Your people are protected from this hedonistic culture by Juche’s principle of self-reliance, but Juche is unknown to other peoples. Therefore they are defenseless, easy prey.

This has now become a subjective observation, because the Western world changes not only culture but mentality itself. Where I see shallowness and indiscipline, they see life and vitality. Is this truly what they call “entertainment”? In every street I enter, I am met by zombie-like figures buried in their phones. They do not even observe their surroundings. Headphones on, they exist in another world. If they could, they would never go outside, for no collective purpose binds their society. Everyone drifts like stray animals; the ordinary person—clearly an animal—is incapable of creating purpose and surrenders to transient pleasures.

I once asked them, “Where will civilization be dragged by this way of trivial life?” I asked it with complete seriousness, because in my mind, humanity was trapped on this planet, paying no heed to higher pursuits like education or science. They were talking about fashion magazines. The villas celebrities had bought. Love triangles in television shows. Meanwhile, I was posing a sociological question. Naturally, as expected, they just laughed. Even seriousness has become a subject of humor now. A solitary intellectual criticizing society is labeled a “mad genius” by Western media, and from that moment, the public automatically begins to see them that way. When I could no longer ignore this mechanism, I fell completely silent, even without an overt censorship imposed on me. I ceased speaking, because the Western world does something subtler than banning thought: it renders thought unnecessary.

You can imagine the persecution I have faced in such a society, because my disinterest in instant gratification almost automatically separates me from the overwhelming majority. While others play, I work. While others gossip, I contemplate. While others read manga, I read political theory. This is the case everywhere. I feel as if I belong to a marginalized group. Was the state not supposed to protect its citizens without discrimination? Yet the United States itself imposes racism. Without this, could it have forged a national identity? If it had not placed itself atop the world pyramid with American arrogance, could it have ensnared the globe in a web of its own making?

Because of these conditions, I have been stripped of my humanity. People no longer greet me. They do not even look at me, because I do not conform to their nonsense. Even at parties where everyone couples incessantly, I dreamed of a different social order. From that day onward, I discovered your country and became enamored with its structure. A personal part of me seemed to have become a state in the world itself.

By being exposed to the inner layers of your culture, to the buried fragments of it, I have come to witness it more closely, whether in songs or in films. While my society listened to rap music, I listened to the state artists of Korea. While my society watched South Korean dramas, I watched North Korean cinema. And through this, I believe I know you more intimately than anyone else, even if I have never met you face-to-face. And I can say this: your people have been slandered across the world, and the world has come to see them only through the lens of this slander.

I must state this: the existence of your country and your people is known, even if you seek distance from this wicked world. Yet they do not know it in a favorable sense—and both you and your noble people know this. The world despises you because you remain the only place that is not like the madness of the global civilization itself. They accuse you of being totalitarian, overly oppressive, and making your country too dull. For they do not know what it means to be united, disciplined, or independent of constant stimulation.

You preserve your culture. No jeans. No noisy parties. No celebrity culture. Because you have only your own culture. And ironically, every hostile move the outside world makes against you only strengthens your people around this culture, because you know how to organize collectively.

If I were to come to Pyongyang, the first thing I would notice is the absence of private cars designed for just a few individuals occupying space; the corners not clogged with people buried in their phones; and streets free from brothels every few meters. Your streets are likely clean even without maintenance, because you have no consumer culture—you are producers devoted to your total vision.

I have seen those who defected from your country: faces covered in makeup, bodies filled with Botox, dyed hair, tattoos on their arms, rings on their hands, piercings in their navels. Do you not understand why they fled? When the West offers them pleasure, it replaces their dreams, for they live solely to satisfy their bodies. When they escape to the outside world, they adapt to it and judge your society—purged of external influence—like a fish cursing a bird. How could they understand you?

Those who understand you are within your society, for your cities—filled with military monuments, ideological structures, and streets without advertisements or noise—are nothing less than a crucible for minds seeking constant novelty. I cannot claim to love this entirely, and I will be honest: your politics do not concern me. Yet if you accept me, I could, as a state artist, compose music, write articles, and draw paintings in the line of General Kim Il Sung and General Kim Jong Il. 

It would be a pleasure for me to contribute to your regime. As an individualist, working for such a collectivist society is a duty for me, because neither my individualism is the individualism of liberalism, nor is the collectivism of North Korean society the herd-minded collectivism.

I could become a member of the Workers’ Party, but the form of art I practice exists beyond politics and is civilizational in nature. While other countries concern themselves with a few years of election cycles, I can assist your nation in advancing toward its long-term goals. The important point is this: I am not a communist, yet I share a crucial perspective with communists: a near-somatic revulsion toward liberal democracy. In other words, my sole request is that you feel no obligation to impose ideological transformation upon me; though I may not explicitly endorse your ideology, I pledge to refrain from acting against it. The enemy of my enemy is my ally. My only wish from the Government of the Democratic People’s Republic is that my inner life may continue its intellectual pursuits undisturbed.

Fleeing to North Korea: how often has this even been seen? The person doing this must be mad, right? Contemporary people will think so. Yet, frankly, I want to take refuge in the DPRK to escape the madness of an entire society who think this way. The health of a state depends on how isolated it is, and in the world, there is no one capable of competing with your state.

I therefore entrust what remains of my safety to your protection and await your decision not with hope, but with reverence.

Atrona Grizel.