SEOUL, South Korea — In North Korea, Americans caught committing mere peccadilloes — offenses that aren’t even crimes elsewhere — can expect little mercy from Kim Jong Un’s regime.
Close to a dozen US citizens have been arrested and released since the 1990s, with a clear uptick in the past five years. They’ve been locked up and some have even been sentenced to what the regime calls “hard labor” after being accused of crossing the border illegally (journalists Laura Ling and Euna Lee, released in 2009, and teacher Aijalon Gomes, released in August 2010); deliberating sensitive Korean War history with state-appointed minders (Merrill E. Newman, released in December 2013); leaving a Bible in the wastebasket of a sailors’ club restroom (Jeffrey Fowle, released on Oct. 21); and suddenly tearing up a tourist visa and demanding asylum (Matthew Miller, released Nov. 8).
The longest known sentence has gone to Korean American pastor Kenneth Bae, who faced 15 years of hard labor, a heavy-handed punishment considering that his alleged crime essentially amounted to proselytizing. The regime alleged that Bae ran a clandestine church network in China — part of a fanciful attempt to overthrow the North Korean government — codenamed “Operation Jericho.” Bae was released on Nov. 8, after tending a farm for eight hours a day throughout much of his incarceration, despite his failing health.
Based on this treatment, you’d think North Korea is a dour, hard-nosed place, where no one ever has any fun.
That’s not exactly the case — at least for local elites, tourists and the small number of expatriates in business and humanitarian work.
In fact, Americans are singled out for special treatment, prized as propaganda opportunities, allowing the regime tells its people that its most powerful enemy has apologized for the wrongdoings of its citizens. When the Kim dynasty accuses non-Americans of similar crimes, it rarely punches with the same propaganda intensity, suggesting deeper political motives at play to nab the occasional imperialist bastard, argues North Korea expert Andrei Lankov in a recent essay in NK News.
Last May, for instance, Australian missionary John Short was caught handing out Bibles in Pyongyang, but was detained for only 13 days before being sent home — without the political brouhaha.
Then, there have been what Lankov calls the “drunken escapades” of Chinese and Russian tourists who are “seldom” punished with expulsion.
Despite its stereotype as a stale, dreary place, North Korea, surprisingly, has much in common with its southern neighbor’s hardcore boozing culture. That means friendships are built over copious amounts of soju, a grain and rice liquor that tastes like vodka. The North’s beer is also superior to Seoul’s bland, terrible joke of a swill (despite recent improvements), several visitors have recounted to GlobalPost.
So popular is boozing in North Korea that “getting drunk is anything but a faux pas,” explains Simon Cockerell, the general manager at Koryo Tours, a Beijing-based tour operator. He says that the overwhelming majority of Pyongyang nightlife tends toward alcohol and food, and that there’s not much else to do in the nighttime hours.
“The vast majority of tourists are mainland Chinese,” he says. Many establishments cater to their tastes, though he believes they aren’t especially known for misbehaving.
Prostitution is outlawed. But there’s at least one shady establishment, in the basement of the prominent Yanggakdo International Hotel: a Chinese sauna called “Golden Spring Island Sauna.” Catering to Chinese tourists, it’s reputed to offer some “fun” with its female employees (Cockerell assures GlobalPost he has never visited personally).
Nearby is one of two casinos in the ostensibly “communist” nation. That is, of course, just one quasi-luxurious hangout when you’re not indulging in North Korea’s ski resort, water park, shooting range or equestrian club.
So make no mistake. This bastion of Kim Jong Un militarism offers a handful of opportunities for sin and debauchery. Just don’t get caught with a Bible.