A blog by Grant Montgomery, co-founder of a 501c3 that provides emergency services and sustained development for families on 5 continents. This site highlights the plight of 300,000 North Koreans who have fled their country due to the brutal oppression of a Stalinist North Korean regime, as well as those still living in North Korea.
South Korea has caught a suspected North Korean man after he crossed the heavily fortified de-militarized zone (DMZ) between the two countries.
South Korean troops tracked him for three hours on Tuesday as he made his way through the zone, which is filled with land mines and surrounded by barbed wire.
The man was located near a checkpoint at the eastern zone of the DMZ at 19:20 GMT on Monday. It is not yet clear if he is a civilian or a member of the military.
“He is presumed to be a North Korean and we’re conducting an investigation into details, including how he had come down and whether he wished to defect,” the Joint Chief of Staffs said in a statement.
Since taking power in 2011, North Korean leader Kim Jong-un is believed to have ordered the tightening of border controls between the two sides and with China, including by laying more landmines. Crossing via the DMZ is incredibly dangerous. If spotted and arrested by the North Korean military, those trying to cross would certainly be taken to a detention center to be interrogated. They could be tried and sentenced to lengthy terms in labor camps.
Adrian Hong was born in 1984 in Tijuana, where his parents had immigrated from South Korea. His father was a Tae Kwon Do master who converted to Christianity and became a missionary. The family moved to San Diego when Adrian was six, but his father founded an orphanage in Mexico to which Adrian often returned, delivering donated supplies and helping to give aid to the homeless. Later, he conducted relief missions in Haiti and the Dominican Republic.
According to those who knew Adrian at the time, his motivations seemed less religious than humanitarian. Adrian, like his father, taught Tae Kwon Do and is a practicing Christian, but, when I asked him about his faith, he said, “I make it a rule not to discuss personal beliefs. I am more concerned about freedom of belief.” Adrian admired people who effected great change; among them Martin Luther King, Jr. Adrian loved King’s interpretation of the Good Samaritan parable, which tells us, when confronted with someone in need, to ask not “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?” but “If I don’t stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”
While attending Yale, Adrian became interested in the plight of North Koreans. In 2003, while visiting Los Angeles, Adrian, then a junior, was sitting with Paul (PK) Kim, a standup comic eight years older, at a café called Blink, on Wilshire Boulevard. They had met when Adrian invited PK to a campus event, and they often discussed starting an organization to help North Koreans. One of them looked up at the café’s sign, and decided to take the “B” out of the name and call the new group LINK—Liberty in North Korea. It was launched early the next year, at the Korean American Students Conference at Yale, which Adrian had organized.
Traveling to two or three college campuses a week, Adrian would give presentations about the horrors of life in North Korea, sometimes screening the documentary film “Seoul Train,” which follows defectors escaping to China. LINK was “ninety per cent Adrian,” PK told me. LINK sought out college students who, PK said, “need to be a part of something.” Adrian told me, “I built LINK on Xanga,” a blog-based social network then popular among Asian Americans, where he had been active since 1999.
Ki Hong Lee, a thirty-four-year-old Korean American actor who has appeared on the Netflix sitcom “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” met Adrian at an event in 2005, when Lee was an undergraduate at the University of California at Berkeley. “If you spend three hours with Adrian, he makes you want to become a better person, do things you never thought about doing,” Lee told me. Lee helped start a chapter of LINK at Berkeley, and eventually he and Adrian traveled to South Korea to volunteer for an outreach program called Project Sunshine, which tried to raise awareness of the suffering of North Koreans. “You don’t really call someone to say, ‘Hey, you know what’s going on in the world that is messed up?’ ” Lee said. “He was that person I could do that with.”
Adrian dropped out of Yale in his senior year, and set up LINK’s ad-hoc headquarters in Manhattan’s Koreatown, before moving it to Washington, D.C. By then, there were nearly seventy local chapters. A close friend who helped get LINK off the ground told me, “Adrian knew that sometimes you have to work outside a diplomatic norm in order to reach something meaningful.”
In 2004, George W. Bush signed the North Korean Human Rights Act, which made North Koreans broadly eligible for political asylum in the U.S. Two years later, Adrian and two other members of LINK traveled to Yanji, in northeast China, where they met four women and two teen-age boys who had escaped from North Korea and were hiding in an underground shelter. If the defectors were caught by Chinese authorities, they might be returned to North Korea, where they would be imprisoned in labor camps and risk execution. Adrian and the LINK workers accompanied them on a twenty-hour train ride to Shenyang, the site of the nearest U.S. consulate, to apply for asylum. But the consular officers turned them away, telling Adrian, over a phone line that had likely been tapped by the Chinese government, to go instead to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Beijing, some four hundred miles away. Adrian got in touch with the U.S. Embassy in Beijing, which also directed him to the U.N.H.C.R. Chinese police arrested everyone the LINK members were jailed for about a week before being deported; the North Koreans were detained for more than six months. After much pressure from LINK and other activist groups, the defectors were eventually freed and they flew to South Korea.
Adrian called the actions of the U.S. consulate “unacceptable and shameful.” In 2007, he wrote on the Web site Freekorea.us, “My experiences in December showed me that three years after the North Korean Human Rights Act has passed, nothing has changed on the ground for North Koreans.”
After three years of living in South Korea, defector Kim Geum-hyok returned to his native North Korea — swimming across the same river he’d crossed in 2017, South Korean officials said. North Korea has accused him of bringing coronavirus into the country for the first time, and resulted in putting Kaesong, Mr. Kim’s hometown, under lockdown.
Weeks before his departure, Mr. Kim, now 24, gave several interviews on a friend’s YouTube channel, talking about his life in the two Koreas. Even before Mr. Kim went back, his story was an unusual one. Firstly Mr. Kim made the dangerous decision to cross the inter-Korean border. Second, after defecting he made the rare decision to return.
In one of the YouTube interviews, Mr. Kim said he had lost most of his hearing at an early age. “Because of that, I had difficulty communicating with people,” he said. “I was beaten because I was told to bring one thing and brought some thing else.” When he was still a child, Kaesong, a city of 300,000, was chosen as the site of an industrial park run jointly by the two Koreas. Kaesong became a boomtown, awash with cash. Mr. Kim’s cousins worked at the park, he said, and he himself sold eggs and vegetables.
But four years ago, the South shut down the complex in a dispute over the North’s nuclear weapons program. The economy crashed, and Mr. Kim, like many others, was soon out of work. (Last month, with inter-Korean relations at another low, the North blew up an office in Kaesong that it had jointly operated with the South.) By June of 2017, Mr. Kim said he “saw no hope for the future, no meaning in life, wondering whether I should continue to live or die.” Seeing the South Korean buildings at night compelled him to “go there and check it out even if that meant my death,” he said.
Mr. Kim settled in the South Korean town of Gimpo, across the Han River from Kaesong. A doctor corrected the hearing problem that he had lived with since childhood. He said he cried that day.
He missed his parents deeply. He had enrolled in a vocational school, as part of the resettlement program that the South offers to defectors, but he said he quit and found work, hoping to send money to his family, as defectors often do through middlemen in China.
Off camera, according to the friend with the YouTube channel, Mr. Kim confided that he was being investigated by the police because another defector had accused him of raping her. He said that he had been so drunk on the night in question that he couldn’t remember anything. The police in Gimpo confirmed that a warrant had been issued for his arrest.
On July 18, officials say, Mr. Kim sent his last text message to the friend with the YouTube channel: “I really didn’t want to lose you because you were like a big sister to me,” he wrote. “I will repay my debt to you no matter where I live, as long as I live.”
South Korean officials concluded that Mr. Kim then crossed the border by crawling through a drain, three feet in diameter, that runs underneath barbed-wire fences on Ganghwa’s north shore. That led him to the Han River, which they believe he swam back across.
A U.N. investigator Monday warned of serious consequences if COVID-19 gains
a foothold in North Korea. The U.N. special rapporteur on the situation of
human rights in North Korea, Tomas Ojea Quintana, said the lack of freedoms and
wide-range abuses in the tightly controlled, highly secretive society run
counter to the transparency needed to combat the coronavirus epidemic.
Ojea Quintana acknowledges the government’s extensive efforts in preventing
an outbreak of this virus inside the North. He warns a widespread infection in
North Korea would be devastating for the people as many are malnourished,
suffering from stunted growth and are vulnerable to getting sick.
The U.N. official is calling on North Korea to allow full and unimpeded
access to medical experts and aid workers and urges the government not to
restrict access to vital information. The government in Pyongyang has not
publicly disclosed any cases of COVID-19.
Regarding the economic sanctions that the United States and other countries have imposed on North Korea because of its nuclear weapons program, Ojea Quintana said because sanctions create economic hardships for the people and given the coronavirus crisis, they should be reviewed.
The U.N. rapporteur describes the overall human rights situation in North
Korea as abysmal. “Basic freedoms continue to be limited, control and
surveillance are pervasive, and the population fears arbitrary arrest and
mistreatment, including detention in political prison camps…A recent account
refers to frequent deaths of prisoners due to hard labor, lack of food,
contagious diseases and overcrowding,” he said.
Ojea Quintana said women are the most abused members of this repressive
society. He said women are the primary caretakers of the household and are
under pressure to provide money and labor to the government. He said women are
vulnerable to threats, imprisonment and sexual abuse from local state
officials. Additionally, he said they have no political power or recourse to
“Bon-Hwa,” a North Korean Christian woman, escaped to China two years ago for the chance to live a better life.
With the help of partners of Open Doors, Bon-Hwa found shelter in a safe house and attended her first Women to Women secret meeting in China and was baptized.
But baptizing North Koreans is illegal and dangerous, so Bon-Hwa, her
pastor, and a group leader traveled to a remote location that “took many
hours to reach.”
“I had to contain myself and focus on the steps of the ceremony,” said the Open Doors leader. “Or else, I would have cried … It was such a beautiful moment and such a privilege to baptize a North Korean believer in these circumstances.”
Most of North Korea’s underground Christians do not engage in the
extremely dangerous work of proselytizing. Instead, they largely keep their
beliefs to themselves or within their immediate families. But even those who
stay deep underground face danger.
North Korea has previously arrested South Korean and American missionaries for allegedly attempting to build underground church networks or overthrow its government.
In its 652-page ‘World Report 2020’, Human Rights Watch reviews human rights practices in nearly 100 countries, including North Korea.
Among other things, the report points out that in 2019, the South Korean government prioritized diplomatic negotiations with North Korea over human rights advocacy.
President Moon did not raise human rights when he met with the North Korean leader, Kim Jong Un, in February 2019, in keeping with his approach in earlier meetings with Kim in 2017 and 2018. And in a troubling move in October, Moon’s government deported two North Korean fishermen to face murder charges in North Korea, where they most likely face torture and execution. In November, the government then dropped its traditional co-sponsoring of a resolution condemning North Korea’s horrific rights record at the United Nations General Assembly.
“President Moon Jae-in, who started his legal career fighting for human rights, is in several ways failing to promote them now,” said John Sifton, Asia advocacy director at Human Rights Watch.
“President Moon needs to abandon his flawed North Korea
policy, which is based on the hope that overlooking Pyongyang’s crimes will
increase inter-Korean engagement and dialogue,” Sifton said. “The North Korean
government is never going to improve its human rights record unless the world demands
it, and South Korea needs to lead the rallying cry for that to happen.”
Sources in China told Seoul-based online newspaper Daily NK that Beijing had strengthened its efforts to crack down on North Korea defectors flocking to China.
The number of defectors increased notably in April and May last year when the weather became warm enough that people could cross the Yalu River or hide in the forest more easily, according to the source.
The source added that even brokers, who help North Koreans to defect in
exchange for money, are reluctant to help defectors these days due to the
rising number of arrest cases by the Chinese authorities.
Chinese authorities are reportedly working with some brokers while tracking the history of mobile phone usage to locate defectors, the source added.
Another source in China told Daily NK that there had been an increasing number of cases of the Chinese authorities investigating defectors instead of repatriating them back to the North. The authorities even collected the personal details of defectors in a move to store and manage them as if they were Chinese citizens., taking photos and collecting fingerprints.
A group of U.S. diplomats, including some involved in disarmament talks with the Kim Jong Un regime, intervened after videos surfaced showing two female detainees wrapped under blankets following failed suicide attempts. Both women had feared being repatriated to the North where they likely would have faced the regime’s gulags or worse.
American diplomats in Washington and Asia pressed Vietnamese officials to
not hand over the North Korean escapees to Chinese or North Korean officials,
according to the people familiar with the episode. It’s uncommon for American
officials to get involved in cases pertaining to ordinary North Korean
escapees. It’s rare for such interventions to become public.
The 13 refugees didn’t seem to be aware of the U.S. help behind the scenes,
according to a person directly involved in the episode. That’s because such a
diplomatic role is typically handled by South Korea. Mintaro Oba, a former
official at the State Department’s Korea desk, said: “To the Moon
administration, [the 13 North Korean refugees were] probably at best a serious
irritant at a time when they’re hyperfocused on inter-Korean relations.”
Experts say U.S. officials took a diplomatic risk in helping activists guide
the refugees to safety, as such moves could upset North Korea and complicate
already stalled nuclear negotiations.
Last December, an unidentified hacker stole the personal information of 997
North Korean refugees, shaking the refugee community in South Korea. According
to the Ministry of Unification, the refugees’ names, birthdays, and addresses were
stolen from a personal computer at a Hana Center, an institute
in North Gyeongsang province that the Ministry runs where North Korean
refugees can receive help after arriving in South Korea.
Such information on North Korean refugees could put family members back in North Korea in grave danger if it gets into the hands of the North Korean government. Keenly aware of North Korea’s cyber ability and the consequences of information exposed from past cases, North Korean refugees who have family members back in North Korea live in a state of constant anxiety.
In 2006, a group of North Korean refugees was found on a boat by a South Korean sentry soldier in Goseong, Gangwon Province in South Korea. Terrified that their family members could be asked to take responsibility and punished for their escape, once the North Korean government learned about their identities, the refugees asked South Korean investigators not to reveal their information to the public. However, Gangwon Provincial Police Agency gave a report that included details of the refugees’ identities to South Korea’s news media outlets, disclosing their personal information to the public. After contacting their sources in North Korea, the refugees learned the devastating news that a total of 22 members of their immediate families had disappeared. Their whereabouts are still unknown.
While South Korea is known to have one of the strongest information technology infrastructures in the world, the Ministry of Unification has confirmed that the Hana Center in Gyeongsang violated an order to use a segregated network when handling the personal information of North Korean refugees, leading to malicious code sent via an email to infect the personal computer of an employee.
Cindy and Fred Warmbier — the parents of American college student Otto Warmbier who died after being detained by North Korea — have a message for Kim Jong Un’s regime. “People matter. Otto matters,” Cindy said. “We’re never going to let you forget our son.”
The Warmbier’s visited Capitol Hill on Wednesday to mark the passage of legislation named in their son’s honor. The Otto Warmbier Banking Restrictions Involving North Korea, or BRINK, Act — was approved by Congress, and President Trump is expected to sign the bill sometime this week. The bill requires mandatory sanctions on foreign banks and other businesses that deal with North Korea, which is a measure meant to tighten the economic pressure on Pyongyang amid stalled talks with the Trump administration.
The bill’s bipartisan sponsors are Sens. Sherrod Brown and Rob Portman of
Ohio, the Warmbier’s home state. “I don’t know if Fred and Cindy are
Republicans or Democrats,” Brown said. “What I do know is that Fred
and Cindy love their son and love this country and their commitment every hour
of every day of every week of every month since their son’s death has just been
an honor to watch.” Portman, who said North Korea “effectively
killed” Otto, added that he believed the 22-year old would have approved
of the bill.
was detained in North Korea’s capital in December 2015 while on a guided tour,
later accused by the regime of stealing a propaganda poster. The University of
Virginia student suffered brain damage during his imprisonment and was
eventually released by North Korea to return to the U.S. in June 2017. Six days
after returning to his family in Ohio, Otto died. Last Thursday would have been
his 25th birthday.