There are about ten “high-profile” North Korean defectors living in South Korea, hired by the National Intelligence Service (NIS) as research fellows studying national security affairs, using their unique understanding to assist the ROK’s intelligence services in the fight against the North.
Until about three days before our meeting, one of these NIS-affiliated defectors was Han Jin Myung, a former North Korean diplomat who served at the North Korean embassy in Vietnam as a second secretary for two years before defecting in January 2015.
When NK News met with Mr. Han, defectors in the South were on edge. Just ten days before, Kim Jong Nam – the estranged half-brother of Kim Jong Un – had been killed in Malaysia, while a few days earlier, Seoul announced it would “beef up” protection of high-profile defectors. “The threat of terrorism against unspecific targets has increased in the country since the ‘murder of Kim Jong Nam‘,” South Korea’s Prime Minister’s Office said at the time.
North Korean diplomats, too, were in the news. The DPRK’s now expelled Ambassador to Malaysia, Kang Chol, had been making headlines with his fiery condemnations of the local investigation into Kim Jong Nam’s death – and a second secretary at the embassy had been named as a suspect in the murder case.
But in a hotel in downtown Seoul, Han was happy to share his experiences living in South Korea as a North Korean diplomat defector, and to compare his life in the two Koreas – as well as his thoughts on the future of the country of his birth.
SPECIAL TRAINING
The road to becoming a diplomat in North Korea begins at age 11, said Han, when students are selected to enter a Pyongyang Foreign Language University-affiliated Foreign Language Academy, of which there are many dotted around the country.
One or two students per school are sent to compete at the county level first, and continue the competition at the state level. Once selected at the final national level, students train for 6 years before continuing their studies at university.
In between, students from elite families are obliged to serve in the military for 11 years – one year more than the minimum ten years which is believed to be mandatory for all North Korean males – which they must do after graduating from high school.
“There were three classmates that went to the military with me, including one female student,” says Han. “The rest who were below the rank didn’t have to serve. I was 28 years old when I entered university.”
There are only two universities that can train diplomats: Kim Il Sung University Foreign Language School and the Pyongyang Foreign Language School. Han chose Kim Il Sung University, where many elite politicians are educated.
The foreign ministry is so powerful that ruling party officials cannot enter its building
INTO THE POWER CIRCLE
North Korea is a country of competing power structures, with the military jostling with the ruling party for influence and favor with the ruler. So where does the Ministry of Foreign Affairs lie in the court of Kim?
Pretty high up, said Han: the foreign ministry is so powerful that ruling party officials cannot enter its building.
“Cars cannot even enter the gate,” he said. “The only department that has access is the Organization and Guidance Department, which is responsible for HR management for the ruling party.”
When asked about the relationship between the military and the foreign ministry, he said that “military officials apply to the foreign ministry for dispatch opportunities for investment purposes.”
Han’s diplomatic career began in Pyongyang I Photo by Comrade Anatolii 
ROLES AND RESPONSIBILITIES
Han’s diplomatic career began at the North Korean Foreign Ministry in Pyongyang, where he worked for six years. His area of responsibility was Equatorial Guinea, one of just eight countries in Africa where North Korea has diplomatic representation.
“I would follow the whereabouts of one single labor worker”
At the Pyongyang headquarters, his main role was to supervise and direct the performances of North Korea’s 53 embassies abroad, as well as coordinating dispatched ministers and secretaries.
After gaining a few years of experience, he was sent to serve in Vietnam: his first overseas mission. According to Han, there are three main responsibilities for a North Korean embassy.
The first is to promote the North Korean regime, often by hosting photo exhibitions and film screenings for international propaganda. Diplomats must also cover many different local newspapers, magazines, and other media channels to stay on top of local issues. The embassy is also responsible for immigration control.
“I used to watch the list of immigration everyday. I would follow the whereabouts of one single labor worker,” he said.
RAISING CAPITAL
Other than these official responsibilities, however, Han said he had different priorities to pursue in Vietnam – usually much more important.
“The actual goal of the embassies is to raise foreign capital,” he said. In short, diplomats are required to make money abroad.
“North Korean diplomats seek opportunities to serve in foreign countries to raise capital and earn money for themselves as well.”
Diplomats are not paid well. Mr. Han, as a second secretary, received about $400 per month, with which he could barely feed his family. This salary is not enough to pay the “loyalty funds” that Pyongyang demands, and diplomats often sell property like duty-free cars provided by the local government and medicine that does not violate UN sanctions.
“The actual goal of the embassies is to raise foreign capital”
Southeast Asian countries are preferred by diplomats for this reason: it is easier to do business without strict laws. European countries with a strong rule of law, in contrast, don’t offer many opportunities for illicit moneymaking schemes.
“I was lucky to go to Vietnam. My colleagues who went to Laos envied me, because Vietnam was less developed.”
Mr. Han said he sold his car, which had been given by the Vietnamese government, at a used car market. But the rules required him to share 80% of his profits with the North Korean government.
The DPRK embassy in Hanoi, where Han spent six years I Photo: Gryffindor
ABRUPT DECISION
Sharing revenue earned from selling his property ended in a dispute among ministry officials in Vietnam. When he was asked to share the remaining 20% with the other ministers, he refused, and his seniors reported him to Pyongyang.
“The next thing I realized was that my name was listed on the State Political Security Department,” he said. “It was obvious I would lose my position and status as a diplomat and other punishments would follow.”
He knew that he was in serious trouble.
“The best case scenario I could expect of my life when I returned to my country was to end up a farmer in the countryside. The worst case was that I could be killed, and my family would be harmed as well.”
Mr. Han said that was the moment he began to consider defection – a decision he made quickly.
“It took two days for me to decide that I will defect, once I realized I would be brutally punished by the government,” he said.
Once he left the North Korean embassy, Vietnamese police teamed up with the North Korean foreign ministry to catch him. He evaded them, escaping to the South Korean embassy in Hanoi – just a ten-minute drive from his former employers.
“Thankfully, they opened the door and welcomed me,” he said.
“The worst case was that I could be killed”
He hid in the embassy for a month, before flying to South Korea with ROK diplomats.
Mr. Han couldn’t contact his family – a wife, a son and a daughter – for fear that being connected with him would harm his family, and has never heard from them again.
“I didn’t even have a chance to explain why I defected,” he said.
But he heard from Thae Yong Ho, a former North Korean deputy ambassador to the UK who defected to South Korea in June last year that his family had been punished severely.
“The most I can wish for my family is that they are supplied well with corn,” he said.
Thae Yong-ho, former North Korean deputy ambassador to the UK, told Han his family had been harmed I Photo: Youtube
LOSS OF PRESTIGE
Han’s reason for defection was more direct than most: generally, ordinary people choose to defect after watching a South Korean drama or movie, or simply to seek a better life for themselves. Han, in contrast, defected because he believed his life was in imminent danger.
But things have not been easy since he moved to the South. Han was a foreign ministry official, who enjoyed a great deal of privilege in his own country. In contrast, his life in South Korea barely meets the middle-class standard.
“I had prestige and social power in North Korea. With my ID, I could grab any car on the road and the police wouldn’t dare say anything to me,” he said. “It’s tough to live without the privileges that I was used to.”
“I feel sort of a sense of shame, doubting my capabilities. I feel like I lost everything I had.”
“The most I can wish for my family is that they are supplied well with corn”
HARD TIMES IN THE SOUTH
What makes it more difficult to live in South Korea, he said, is the negative attitude of South Koreans towards people from the North.
“South Koreans see defectors as frauds. They don’t seem to accept the homogeneity of North and South Koreans.”
“For example, when I visit the house of South Korean nationals, they keep their eyes on me as if I was going to steal something.”
Bias even existed at work. When he defected, he was given a job at the Institute for National Security Strategy (INSS) – a subdivision of the NIS – by the South Korean government, working as a senior researcher in the Reunification strategy team. However, he resigned after enduring serious discrimination from his South Korean colleagues.
“Researchers are ought to have their own purposes and plans for their research. Freedom of thought should be guaranteed,” he argued.
He argued that the institute imposed certain ideologies and specific guidelines for research.
Life in the South is notoriously tough for North Korean defectors I Photo by DHPersonal
“[Defectors] were like tools, who were manipulated to sign documents that were written according to the national policy and interest,” he complained. “I resigned. I couldn’t stand any longer feeling humiliated.”
What makes it more difficult to live in South Korea, he said, is the negative attitude of South Koreans towards people from the North.
Another difficulty he faced was with the strict bureaucracy in South Korean society. Unexpectedly, he argued, North Korea is less bureaucratic.
“I could tell the boss ‘I can’t do it’ if I think it’s wrong. Here, it seems like you must always obey your superiors,” he said. “In North Korea, I took responsibility for what I do.”
In the North Korean civil service, superiors do not dominate over subordinates. He said this could be because even subordinate officials are from very high-ranking families with good songbun, and inter-family feuds are generally avoided.
“In North Korea, I took responsibility for what I do.”
REBEL FROM THE COUNTRYSIDE
Han is doubtful about the possibility of a revolution in North Korea.
“Who among the government officials would want to abandon their current privileges and support reunification?” he argued. He said he himself wouldn’t have defected if his life was not in danger.
“More than two officials cannot even gather for drinks,” he added. “Even if they seek the opportunity, it’s impossible to discuss overturning the regime, when the government is controlling the behavior of officials.”
But he does think that regime change might come through agitating civilians in rural areas.
“North Korean people living in the countryside are not even provided with electricity. What they care about is making enough money to survive,” he said.
He believes that if reunification were to happen, it needs to happen in five years, before Kim Jong Un consolidates his power structure.
“I’m looking for ways to survive here, or perhaps in another country”
LEAVING SOUTH KOREA?
However, it seems that the South Korean government needs to better take care of the lives of already defected North Koreans. When asked about his plans for his future in South Korea, his answer was disheartening: he doesn’t have a positive outlook on his future as a South Korean national.
“I feel it’s limited for me to maintain a good life in South Korea. Everything is so different.”
He is trying to find work by making media appearances and doing volunteer work with fellow defectors. North Korea Intellectuals Solidarity (NKIS), for whom he now serves as secretary general, is an organization comprised of North Korean defectors, which promotes the independent lives of the North Korean defectors and conducts research on peaceful reunification.
He might have been a good scholar and a diplomat in the North, he said, but what he has learned in North Korea cannot be applied to life in the South.
“I’m looking for ways to survive here, or perhaps in another country,” Mr. Han said.
If he does not find his life improving in South Korea, he said, he might move somewhere else (he speaks fluent French).
For Mr. Han and his fellow defectors to live better lives as South Korean national and provide good examples to follow, he said, the South Korean government must play a greater role in helping them assimilate.
“I do hope for reunification, indeed. However, South Korea should first show that it can embrace North Korean people and culture.”
Featured image: NK News