New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 2016. xxvi, 282 pp. (Maps, illustrations.) US$30.00, cloth. ISBN 978-0-300-21781-0.
An influx of outside information coming in via USB sticks, radio broadcasts, DVDs, and more is changing the way many North Koreans see themselves and the world. Jieun Baek, a PhD candidate in public policy at the University of Oxford and a former research fellow at the Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs (Harvard University), draws on ten in-depth interviews with resettled defectors in South Korea to describe a network of smugglers, defectors, border guards, and information bootleggers working to get information into North Korea.
The book is organized into six chapters. Chapter 1 explores what makes North Korea’s political system so durable, namely the regime’s ability to control information. Chapters 2 through 4 are devoted to explaining the “information underground,” or how information bound for North Korea is curated, packaged, transmitted, and received. Chapter 5 considers the significance of the spread of information in the post-famine era and chapter 6 concludes the book with a summary and call to action.
The central concern of the book is timely and relevant: What are the social and political effects of media flows in a politically unfree society where information is tightly controlled? For those seeking regime change, flooding North Korea with information that runs contrary to the state-crafted message is seen as a viable alternative to military action. Even those less interested in regime change will find the consequences of media flows in an information-scarce environment worth consideration.
The answer to the central question comes directly from the defectors interviewed for the book. In fact, the narrative of the book is driven more or less entirely by Baek’s interviewees. This is one of the book’s main strengths. Too often, North Korean defectors are portrayed as passive victims of an authoritarian regime trying to get by in a new, competitive environment. In Hidden Revolution, defectors play active roles. They are smart, discerning, and driven individuals who want to send information into North Korea, raise awareness of North Korean human rights, or promote a more favourable public image of resettled defectors in South Korean society.
Baek is clear that information is changing North Korea, but she is cautious not to overstate its effects. “Outside information alone will not create breakthrough changes in the country, but it is absolutely necessary for North Koreans to change their thinking as a perquisite to any positive change in the future” (131–132). This is confirmed by her interviewees. Gwang-Seong, a political science student, is quoted as saying: “Not a lot of people defect solely because of outside information. One could say that movies lack credibility. They’re fun, they push people to think and ask questions, but that’s it” (197).
Arguably, the most interesting information comes in chapter 5, “A New Generation Rising.” In this chapter, Baek describes how the material and social conditions in North Korea changed after the Great Famine (1994–1998), giving rise to a new generation. “North Koreans who were born during or after the Great Famine and have been exposed to widespread street markets have grown up in a society where complete dependence on the state for people’s livelihood was just not the case” (188). The Jangmadang generation, named after the street markets that appeared during the famine, is a new cohort of North Koreans. Their behaviour and attitudes more closely resemble that of youths elsewhere in the world: savvy, intelligent, and eager to learn. More specifically, North Koreans from this generation are likely to watch South Korean dramas, care about fashion, understand how capitalism works, and criticize the government (if they care at all about politics). Recounting a conversation with an interviewee from the Jangmadang generation, Baek writes: “She was adamant that people like her had no interest in ideology or politics; they were just interested in making money, making a living, being entertained, and getting by” (189).
Despite being a brisk and timely read, there are a few shortcomings. First, while the narrative-driven style of the book makes for easy and enlightening reading, there is a discernable lack of critical engagement with the broader questions addressed in the book. Baek is clearly aware of existing studies on life in North Korea and the impact of information penetration in authoritarian political systems, but there is little effort made to situate the work within an existing body of theoretical or empirical literature or engage more substantively with the central research question. As a book published by a university press, it should clearly engage a scholarly literature in some way. That it does not will leave some readers wanting more.
For example, how has the North Korean government responded to changing conditions, especially the availability of new information communication technologies (ICT)? Studies that measure the impact of information flows in North Korea find advances in ICT cut both ways. It is unclear whether North Koreans are or will become more free, or whether the North Korean government simply has new tools it can use to oppress and control people (see Nat Kretchun, Catherine Lee, and Seamus Tuohy, “Compromising Connectivity: Information Dynamics Between the State and Society in a Digitizing North Korea,” InterMedia, 2017). Baek is honest about the limitations of information inflows, but she does not consider at any significant depth or length the effects that an influx of information and the introduction of new technologies have on state capacity and everyday life in North Korea.
Overall, this is a book meant to inform a general audience about changes taking place in North Korea and promote interest in North Korean human rights. These are laudable goals that Baek, by publishing this book, has accomplished.
Steven Denney
University of Toronto, Toronto, Canada
pp. 176-178