A River in Darkness: One Man's Escape from North Korea

by Masaji Ishikawa

From my perspective, there wasn’t much difference between a socialist movement, a nationalist movement, and a brutal brawl in the black market. All of these people had a couple of things in common. They all had their own personal histories in Japan—and they were all poor. They just wanted to assert their own existence. And that meant fighting however they could to gain some kind of power.

But the trouble is that some people really do end up brainwashed. They come to believe all the bullshit. But, thankfully, there are also many who don’t. And one day, they’ll be the downfall of the house of cards that is North Korea.

Once beyond school age, individuals were all expected to carry out two functions: to contribute to production and to take part in military operations. The whole system was based on the “Four Military Lines.” The key tenets were “arm the entire people,” “fortify the entire nation,” “build a nation of military leaders,” and “complete military modernization.” So various militias were formed.

North Koreans didn’t have anything to compare their country with because they’d never experienced anything else. Even when Kim Il-sung did something particularly brutal or horrific, no one raised an eyebrow. “Remember the time of Japanese colonial rule!” “Never forget the cruelty of American imperialism!” Without any other information at their disposal, young North Koreans simply fell for the propaganda.

The word could be translated in a number of ways. It could mean self-reliance, autonomy, independence, or responsibility—all the things we weren’t allowed to have. According to the Juche “philosophy,” “human beings are the masters of the world, so they get to decide everything.” It suggested we could reorganize the world, hew out a career for ourselves, and be the masters of our destiny. This was laughable, of course, but that’s always the way with totalitarian regimes. Language gets turned on its head. Serfdom is freedom. Repression is liberation. A police state is a democratic republic. And we were “the masters of our destiny.” And if we begged to differ, we were dead.

I can never forgive Kim Il-sung for taking away our right to think.

mustn’t let yourself be beaten. You must have a strong will. You have to summon what you know is right from your innermost depths and follow it.

It was the evening of October 15, 1996. The plane touched down in Tokyo a short while later. I was back in Japan. It took me thirty-six years to get home, but I finally did it.

In a sense, I still don’t even exist; I remain in limbo between two worlds. The Japanese government still hasn’t officially admitted that I ever returned to Japan at all. So here I am, officially “not living” here. A life of “not living.” That seems to be my curse.

this hit me like a ton of bricks.

I often think about what would have become of me if I’d stayed in North Korea. I would probably have starved too. But at least I’d have died in someone’s arms with my family gathered around me. We’d have said our goodbyes. What chance of that now? People talk about God. Although I can’t see him myself, I still pray for a happy ending.

wow.