Dear Reader: The Unauthorized Autobiography of Kim Jong Il

by Michael Malice

  But the concept of an “axis” didn’t make any sense either. Anyone with a basic knowledge of mathematics knows that an axis requires an intersection between two lines. Yet Iran and Iraq had spent practically the entire 1980s at war. The former was an Islamic state populated by Persians; the latter a secular state populated by Arabs. Where was this “evil” intersection between Iran and Iraq? And between either of them and the DPRK? There was none, of course.

  It was apparent to commentators around the world that this “axis of evil” was a kill list, nothing more and nothing less. We three were the nations that President Bush and his team of fascists were seeking to invade. I’d been warning for decades that this was the ultimate intention of the US imperialists. Bush’s speech, televised worldwide, proved the validity of my warnings.

  The worst part was that Bush wasn’t all talk. He very much meant what he was saying, to a terrifying degree, and backed up his rhetoric with action. The Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) Treaty had been in force since 1972, a compromise between the Soviet Union and the United States. It was universally regarded as a cornerstone of world stability, since it limited both nations to one and only one ABM deployment area. This treaty formed the basis of thirty-two subsequent arms-control and -reduction agreements, including such landmarks as SALT I, SALT II and the NPT which had been such an issue for Korea. In June of 2002, thirty years and six presidents after its inception, President Bush declared that the ABM Treaty would no longer apply to the United States. These were not the actions of a friend of international peace and democracy. These were the actions of a high-handed war maniac who did not want any limits on his ability to murder.

  I saw that I needed to fortify the DPRK as much as possible and as quickly as I could. Unfortunately, the options that I had were extremely limited. I could request little more from Russia and China. And despite overtures of friendship, the south Korean puppets would at best remain neutral in a conflict between the DPRK and the United States. Any other nation in the region wouldn’t be strong enough to make a difference. All the remaining countries in other parts of the world were either under the thrall of America, trying to maintain their own defenses or even simply indifferent to our plight. I was left with one and only one option, and it was the most unlikely one of all: Japan.

  Many visitors to the DPRK are surprised by how much anti-Japanese information we present. Some even go so far as to claim that this animus proves that north Korea is “stuck in the past.” What they don’t appreciate is that the pain that the Japanese caused Korea still lingers in the present. The injuries never healed, let alone scarred over. After all, what is the DMZ but a giant gaping wound originally drawn by the Japs?

  I wanted to make amends with Japan—but making amends requires the wrongdoer to acknowledge, apologize and pay restitution for what he’s done. It wasn’t as if Japan couldn’t afford to pay for our past suffering. The Japanese are good at saving, and are very frugal (probably because they live on islands). But most essential to their wealth was their industry, and this too they owed to Korea.

  Historically speaking, the Japanese devils were never creative. Rather, they were good at copying other people’s inventions and then modifying them. Every product they had, they borrowed or stole from other people. Rice-farming, Buddhism, writing, steelmaking, ceramics, pharmaceuticals, paper manufacturing and architecture were all things that Japan imported from Korea a long time ago. It’s no exaggeration to say that virtually all the historic relics unearthed in several regions of Japan, almost everything that had been handed down from ancient times, bore Korean characteristics. In fact, Japan’s foremost symbol received its name from Korean. In ancient times, the Koreans who found an active volcano in Japan called it “Punsan” (fire mountain). A slight phonetic modification changed it to the present “Mt. Fuji.”

  But simply because they could and should afford to make amends didn’t mean that the Japs would. Germany came to recognize Nazism as a crime and resolutely broke away from it. The acts of Hitler and his fascists are still a source of great shame for the German people, who denounce his barbarism at every opportunity. Many Westerners assume that the Japanese have the same attitude toward their own past villainy—but unfortunately, this is not the case.

  To this day, the sons of samurai haven’t easily abandoned their dream of conquering Asia. For every Jap politician who speaks of reflection or apology, there are ten who make remarks downplaying or even justifying their past atrocities: “Japanese colonial rule greatly benefited the modernization of Korea.” “The state cannot apologize or compensate for the ‘comfort women’ because those were the affairs of the army.” “The Pacific War was a war for self-defense.” By and large, Japanese politicians are hooligans without any conscience.

  It might have been silly on my part to expect such insolent and inhuman people to have the slightest sense of morality. But Japan was the only option I had, and it was Japan that most had America’s ear. Candidly, Japan had a vested interest in ensuring that a second Korean war wouldn’t break out. I would be loathe to fire missiles into Seoul, but I would have no compunction about striking Tokyo—which was effectively striking America. I knew it and, more importantly, the Japanese knew it too.

  Given all this, I understood that I needed to extend myself greatly to normalize relations with Japan and to receive any restitution. Fortunately, Japanese Prime Minister Koizumi agreed to visit Pyongyang in September 2002. We had a great deal of work to do to establish any trust. Napoleon once said, “You believe me, and I also believe you.” But my strategy with Koizumi was to say, “I believe you. Believe me, you, too.”

  When we finally met, Koizumi quickly turned to a subject that I’d been preparing for: the kidnapping of Japanese citizens by north Korean agents. The issues had been absolutely taboo in prior talks between our nations, with my side denying it completely. “It has been proven that the persons identified by Japanese sources do not exist within our territories and have never entered nor resided in the country in the past,” we insisted. During one meeting, our diplomats had slammed the table—literally— and walked out at the mere mention of the subject. When it was later brought up again, we cancelled the talks on the spot and didn’t resume them for eight years.

  But this wasn’t a meeting between diplomats. This was the Prime Minister of Japan meeting with the Chairman of the DPRK National Defense Commission. So when Koizumi brought the matter up, I was prepared. “I know that there have been difficult issues between our nations in the past,” I said. “The subject of these alleged kidnappings is certainly an important one. I realize that the DPRK has insisted for years that such things have never happened. Well, it’s come to my attention that these abductions have, in fact, happened. Further, I can acknowledge that they were undertaken by persons affiliated with north Korea. These people have been punished most severely. I apologize sincerely for what has transpired, and I regret it tremendously.” It was the first time that any representative of the DPRK had apologized for anything.

  The Japs, like most liars, have a well-earned reputation for being slick-tongued. One might not believe what they’re saying, but they always did have something to say. In fact, more often than not, such people often knew the exact right thing to say at any given moment. This is what made them such effective liars—and being a successful politician on top of that meant that Koizumi must have been one of the smoothest talkers in the world. But in that moment Koizumi was speechless.

  Koizumi had surely played out this scenario a million times in his mind, with different outcomes each time. I’m sure he had responses for each possibility, ranging from an outright denial on my part to some sort of tacit admission—the typical range of options for a politician. But Koizumi forgot that he wasn’t dealing with just some politician. He was dealing with Kim Jong Il, the Genuine People’s Leader.

  Koizumi gestured to his staff to hand him the names of the missing persons. He was trying to act like nothing had happened, as if I would somehow recant
what I’d just said in front of a roomful of witnesses. But I myself had also come prepared with a list of names, so I pulled out my notes for comparison. “There are thirteen of them,” I said. “Five of which are still alive.”

  “We have seventeen names,” he insisted, “at the very least.”

  “Let’s go through them,” I said. “Together.”

  To Koizumi’s amazement, some of the names I put forward were completely unfamiliar to him; Japan hadn’t even suspected the DPRK. Similarly, there were a couple of names that he mentioned that weren’t our doing. “These people shall be returned at once!” he finally snapped. He so easily switched to an aggressive demeanor that I knew he’d be presenting this as some sort of personal triumph once back in Japan, even though I’d freely confessed to the matter. If he needed to do that for the Japanese public to accept assisting the DPRK, I was more than glad to let Koizumi have his charade.

  “Of course,” I told him. As if I would have brought the names up otherwise!

  “Let me thank you for your cooperation in this most sensitive matter,” he said. “I’m very glad that this summit is off to such a productive start. Perhaps there are things that Japan can apologize for as well. These admissions can go a great way toward establishing relations between our two countries, who share such a complex and interrelated history.”

  At the end of Koizumi’s visit, the two of us signed and released the Pyongyang Declaration. In it, he “expressed deep remorse and heartfelt apology” for Japan’s past actions and agreed to give the DPRK billions of dollars in reparation funds and food aid. It went against everything I knew, but for that day I believed that I could do business with the Japs and that Korea could finally put the most hurtful episode of her past to rest.

  Then Koizumi returned to Tokyo.

  The Japanese Prime Minister didn’t have to be two-faced to backpedal on our agreement. No, the Japs—whipped up into a fury by their media—broke the deal for him. Rather than accepting my apology, the vitriol directed at the DPRK in general and me in particular reached heights unheard of since the Pacific War. Some were so enraged by my admission that they called for armed conflict.

  I hoped that the furor would subside once the remaining abductees returned to Japan. But still the Jap devils reneged despite my magnanimity. There was no restitution, no aid, nothing further to discuss. At the time, Japan had so much food—millions of tons of surplus rice—that they ran out of storage space. By their own admission and in complete disregard for any international humanitarian principles, they chose to destroy it rather than deliver it to the DPRK. They were happy to have the Korean people go hungry or even starve in order to punish some subordinates of mine who got carried away. The Japs got their wish, all right. The Korean people went hungry. Once again, I learned that the DPRK would have to stand alone.

  In the following month came the last straw. In October 2002 the Bush administration once again raised nuclear suspicions, accusing north Korea of seeking to enrich uranium. An American diplomat even claimed that the DPRK had secretly admitted during negotiations to having a hidden nuclear weapon program. This was a very clever move on the part of the Yanks. I denied it, of course, but it seemed highly plausible on the heels of my public apology to Japan.

  Bush then went further, openly imagining north Korea selling nuclear bombs to terrorist agents in other nations. It was absurd even given his own premises. After all, the past allegations of DPRK “terrorism”—Korean Air Flight 858—had supposedly been committed by Korean agents under Korean training with Korean equipment. Based on Bush’s absurd claims, the Americans cut off the heavy fuel oil shipments promised under the Framework Agreement of 1994. In one move, Bush broke the promises of three past presidents, the agreement having been worked out between President Kim Il Sung and President Carter and signed by President Clinton.

  It was absolutely true that the DPRK made missiles to sell to foreign countries. This was our right as a sovereign nation. It was also America’s right—one which it engaged in on a daily basis, being the largest arms dealer in the world. But regarding nuclear materials, Korea’s past, present and future policy was that we would never allow such transfers to any terrorist group. The American ego and hubris were downright staggering. The only nation that had ever used nuclear weapons was the United States. Every single American president had proclaimed that “all options are on the table” against whichever nation was their target that day. The indisputable meaning of this phrase is “we might strike you with nuclear weapons if we see fit.”

  But President Bush didn’t need anyone to believe him, since his suspicions were a mere pretext. At this precise time, the same exact thing was happening regarding Iraq and Bush’s claims of invisible “weapons of mass destruction.” In complete disregard of international law, he declared that this gave the US the right to invade and conquer Iraq, a nation on the other side of the world that had nothing to do with the United States and had never threatened it.

  Virtually every nation on earth has a military. Every military on earth has weaponry. If “suspecting”—which clearly includes “imagining”—the presence of some weapons is grounds for invasion, then literally no other country in the world was safe from US aggression, by America’s own explicitly stated terms. And since the United States had no problem going to war without UN sanction, smaller nations had nowhere to appeal and were at America’s mercy. This was the Bush Doctrine truly meant.

  The rest of the scenario played out as expected. The IAEA convened a special session of its Board of Governors in January of 2003, adopting that resolution that the DPRK would be hit with even more sanctions if inspectors weren’t allowed in. This time, the inspectors demanded to have a permanent presence on our soil. It was the same drama, played out over and over again. The plot hadn’t changed—and it never would, unless I did something about it.

  The Americans, the Japanese, the south Korean puppets: even during the Arduous March, none of them had ever really tried to help us. They had never been trying to help us. They were trying to break us. Everything that General Kim Il Sung had said nearly a century ago was right, and every warning he had given was now being proven true beyond dispute. The revolution had to be carried out on one’s own responsibility and with one’s own conviction, without asking for approval or directives from others. To suit the Korean situation, the Korean revolution needed to be carried out by Koreans themselves at all times.

  It had been my lifelong conviction that the Korean nation was unique. By 2002, everyone else agreed. There was no denying the fact that the DPRK was unlike every other nation on the face of the earth. China and Russia couldn’t be counted on at all. We were utterly alone in every way imaginable. It had always been that way and it would always be that way. The only true reliance was the self-reliance of the Juche idea.

  I knew that Bush intended to invade Iran or the DPRK after he was done with Iraq. He’d said as much in his “Axis of Evil” speech. Never had the threat from the United States been so imminent and so palpable. During those darkest of days, I thought back to 1991’s “nuclear crisis.” President Kim Il Sung had called in all his top military commanders, including myself, to an important meeting. “If the Yanks start a war against us,” he asked, “will we be able to defeat them?”

  The commanders’ answers were unanimous if predictable: “We shall win!” “We have never lost a war!” “Every battle shall be a Korean victory!” “We will drive out the US imperialists from the peninsula, and unify Korea once and for all!” “No force on earth can defeat the glorious Korean People’s Army, following the brilliant Juche tactics of the Great Leader Kim Il Sung!”

  The General let out a deep breath. “But what if we do lose? What shall we do then?”

  A Korean loss was unspeakable; discussing it in front of the Great Leader himself was unthinkable. So, wordless and thoughtless, the military men stood there completely unable to communicate anything.

  That’s when I stood up and clenched my fist. “W
hat good is this world without Korea? Without the DPRK, there can be no Earth. If north Korea is going to disappear, I will smash the Earth to pieces!”

  The Great Leader looked at me and smiled. “Those are words suitable for a Supreme Commander,” he said. “That is the answer.”

  A decade on, it was still the answer. After World War II, south Korea had become a mad dog with the backing of the American lion and the Japanese monkey. The DPRK had sought an alliance with the Russian bear and the Chinese dragon—only to find those animals far too dangerous in their own right. I knew what I had to do in 2003: I had to turn Korea into a hedgehog.

  A hedgehog’s body is covered with sharp spines. Just as no ferocious animal can attack a hedgehog, so too would no one dare attack a similarly fortified country. The Korean hedgehog would have the sharpest and most powerful spines of all: nuclear missiles. If the DPRK was going to be constantly attacked, condemned and punished for a nuclear program, if we were going to suffer the consequences for it, then it made sense for us to reap the benefits of such a program as well.

  So on January 10, 2003 I had the DPRK officially withdraw from the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons once and for all. I publicly declared that I felt obliged to possess a war deterrent—and everyone knew what I meant by a “war deterrent.” I’d warned the US imperialists that I wouldn’t tolerate the slightest violation of DPRK sovereignty. Now, I was demonstrating to the United States and its followers that my warning wasn’t just empty talk.

  The course of acquiring gaining nuclear technology wasn’t smooth for north Korea. Foreign forces introduced obstructive maneuvers. Technological bottlenecks had to be overcome, with great difficulty. Yet none of these things stopped us. Soon, nothing on earth would ever be able to defeat the Korean people. Not hunger, not war, not the Jap devils—and most certainly not the US imperialists.