by Billy Graham
I asked him where it was, and he said North Korea.
We talked about whether a visit to North Korea would be possible, and he said he believed we could find an opening. Ruth’s having attended high school in what was now the capital city might just be the key, and this turned out to be the case.
We agreed that plans for a North Korean trip should be kept highly confidential, even within the BGEA. A few weeks later, Henry asked me if John Akers could work with him on the project. I agreed to that as long as John could continue his other work at Montreat.
For some months, they pursued a number of approaches to North Korea, all of which turned out to be dead ends. The problem was simple: we had never met anyone from North Korea, nor did we know how to make the necessary contacts. Furthermore, the United States had no diplomatic relationship with North Korea.
Henry’s first effort was through Christian friends in South Korea; but in spite of their deep concern for their fellow Koreans across the border, the hostility between the two nations was such that they were unable to make any meaningful contacts.
He then discovered that a limited number of Korean-Americans, including some clergy, had been to North Korea. At first that seemed like a hopeful channel. But North Korea clearly was suspicious of them as well, assuming (rightly or wrongly) that they would have ties with South Korea.
We also made an approach to some of our Christian friends in China, but they felt that they could not get involved.
John even made discreet contacts with the Vatican through our longtime friend Father Jerome Vereb, who had coordinated each of my visits with Pope John Paul II. One of the two churches recently opened in Pyongyang was Catholic, we knew, but we discovered through Father Vereb that it was not permitted to have any direct contact with the Vatican and did not have any ordained priests. The Vatican was as puzzled as we were about how to establish some kind of dialogue, since all their approaches in the past had been rebuffed.
Finally, a retired missionary to Korea who was now living in Montreat, Dr. Joseph Hopper, suggested to Ruth that Henry and John contact Stephen Linton, a scholar at Columbia University’s Center for Korean Research. Dr. Linton turned out to be one of the people God would use to open the door to North Korea for us. For some years, Steve and his wife, Wonsook, an internationally known artist born in South Korea, had befriended several diplomats who were part of North Korea’s mission to the United Nations. (At the time, North Korea—or the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, as it is officially known—had only observer status at the United Nations.) Steve was an able and knowledgeable scholar and a first-class linguist; he had grown up in South Korea in a third-generation Presbyterian missionary family and was deeply committed to what we were attempting to do.
With Steve’s help, then, Henry Holley made an appointment with the North Korean ambassador to the United Nations, Ho Jong. Ambassador Ho smoothed the way for Henry and the others of our advance team to visit Pyongyang. At first their discussions seemed as though they would not lead anywhere. I was unknown by the North Korean officials, and they were suspicious of our motives.
After further discussions in both New York and Pyongyang over a period of a year, however, an official invitation finally arrived from the Korean Protestants Federation, representing the nation’s several thousand Protestants, for us to go to Pyongyang. My only regret was that Ruth, on the advice of her doctors, was unable to join us. My son Ned, however, was able to go, and I was glad to have him, for he has a deep interest in Asia; as my son, he was treated as number two in protocol.
From the first, we knew that this would be unlike any other trip we had ever made, including those to eastern Europe, the Soviet Union, and China.
One reason was the highly sensitive political situation. Like it or not, the North Koreans would assume we were coming with the full approval of the American government. They were aware, for example, of my personal friendship with President George Bush. But no matter how much I stressed that I was not coming as a representative of the American government and that my primary concern was spiritual and not political, they found my motives very difficult to understand.
Another reason that it would be a different, and indeed a difficult, trip was the unique position of President Kim Il Sung. Called “the Great Leader” by every North Korean, he was the only president the country had ever had; the deep, almost mystical reverence in which he was held by its citizens far exceeded anything we had experienced in other countries. He truly was a father figure to his people. Almost every public building and every home prominently displayed a picture of him, often alongside a picture of his son and heir apparent, Kim Jong Il, known as “the Dear Leader.”
We spent several days in Tokyo recovering from jet lag and getting adjusted to the time change from America. Then we went to Beijing to secure our visas at the North Korean Embassy there. While in the Chinese capital, on March 31, we were received by the recently appointed vice premier, Zhu Rongji, whose task was to oversee the economic development of the nation. We had met him during our trip to China in 1988.
I appreciated his taking the time to see us. His sense of humor and his knowledge of the West made him a delightful conversationalist. We spoke not only about the economic problems China faced but also about his society’s need for moral and spiritual foundations. I stated my conviction that God had given us those foundations in the Bible. Then I told him briefly about Ned’s work assisting the Amity Press in Nanjing to print Bibles for China’s house churches. We then presented him with one of the Bibles, which he seemed glad to receive.
That afternoon Ned and I flew into Pyongyang with the others in our small Team on the North Korean national airline aboard a Russian-built TU–134, an older-model jet plane similar to the American DC–9. In accordance with their established protocol, I brought a gift to present to President Kim Il Sung, as well as one for his son, Kim Jong Il (although we never did meet the son).
The gift for the president was a large porcelain figurine of American waterfowl, which our friend Mrs. Helen Boehm had kindly helped us select. It had been carefully packed in a very large crate to prevent breakage. Our television crew had transported it with their equipment from the United States, but when they tried to load it onto the North Korean plane in Beijing, they discovered that it wouldn’t go through the small cargo door of the TU–134. They frantically discarded the outer protective crate at the airport in order to get it in; fortunately, it arrived in one piece.
When we stepped off the plane in Pyongyang, we were met by several church and government officials, as well as by a pretty little girl dressed in a traditional red Korean dress. With a shy smile, she presented us with a bouquet of flowers. The North Korean press was well represented at our arrival. CNN’s Beijing correspondent, Mike Chinoy, and his cameraman had been given special permission at our request to fly with us. He was one of the very few Western reporters to be granted a visa in some years and was told that footage could be shot only if we were in it.
A few minutes after our arrival, we were escorted into a reception room at the airport for a formal greeting from a delegation of Christians representing the Protestant and Catholic churches. After Chairman Kang Yong Sop of the Korean Protestants Federation read his welcoming statement, I replied from my prepared text: “I do not come as an emissary of my government or my nation, but as a citizen of the Kingdom of God. As Christ’s ambassador, I have come first of all to visit the Christian community here—to have fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ, to pray and to worship with them, and to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ in your churches.”
Then I added that although my visit was nonpolitical, as a Christian and a follower of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, I could not help but be concerned over the tensions that divided our two nations. “The D.P.R.K. and the United States are not natural enemies. It is past time that the suspicion and enmity which have characterized our relations for the last half-century were replaced with trust and friendship. I
pray that this trip may be a positive step in that direction.”
That apparently was the right note to strike, for excerpts of my arrival comments were carried by North Korean radio and television that night.
After the brief welcoming ceremony, we were taken in official cars to a beautiful Korean-style government guest house on the edge of Pyongyang overlooking the river.
Pyongyang itself was a surprise—one of the most beautiful large cities I have ever visited overseas. It had been virtually leveled by Allied bombers during the Korean War. Because the city had to be rebuilt from scratch, all the buildings were relatively new. Unlike many of the cities in other Communist countries we had visited, careful attention had been given to imaginative architecture, wide boulevards, and inviting public parks; and maintenance was clearly a priority.
I will never be able to think of North Korea without having a mental image of large numbers of people vigorously walking, both in the city and in the countryside. The capital city had efficient public transportation, including a deeply buried subway system with magnificent mosaics and chandeliers (somewhat like the older sections of the Moscow Metro). However, there were no automobiles in Pyongyang, except cars imported for government use; and, unlike in China, we saw only a few bicycles.
Several highlights of that first visit remain vivid in my memory. One, of course, was the opportunity to preach in the two churches that had opened only a few years before. Bongsu Church (Protes-tant) seated several hundred people; Changchung Church (Cath-olic) was somewhat smaller, although of similar design. Both had fine choirs; the Bongsu choir even gave a moving rendition of “How Great Thou Art” in English. The Korean Protestants Federation had been permitted to print several thousand Bibles and hymn books a few years before for the use of believers, and they still had a supply on hand. Steve Linton’s uncle, Dr. Dwight Linton, a former missionary to South Korea, interpreted for me in the churches and also spoke in Korean to a gathering of pastors and church workers who had come to Pyongyang for the meetings.
Although these were the only church buildings in North Korea, we were told that several thousand Catholics and Protestants, out of a population of 23 million, met in small groups throughout the country—usually in homes—under the supervision of an approved pastor or church worker. These believers almost exclusively came from family backgrounds that were Christian, dating back as far as the prewar days; evangelism of nonbelievers was still discouraged. Most believers, therefore, were older, although we saw a few younger men and women in the services.
Whenever possible, I commended the government officials I met with on their policy of allowing Christians to come together for worship. I pointed out to them, as I had done in other countries, that I believed Christians were among their best citizens—honest and hardworking—and that I hoped the day would come when their existence was encouraged and not merely tolerated.
Another memorable opportunity came at Kim Il Sung Uni-versity, the country’s leading educational institution and the training ground for many of its future leaders. Very few Americans had ever seen the university or met students there. To our surprise, the university invited me to deliver a lecture to 400 students in one of its main lecture halls. First, though, school officials had to be assured that I would be giving an academic lecture, not preaching. By mutual agreement, I lectured on “The Influence of Religion on Amer-ican Society.”
When we arrived at the campus, we were taken into a reception room where four or five faculty and a few others waited to meet us. After a cordial greeting, the vice chancellor turned to me for a response.
Assuming it was time for me to give my lecture—though the group was much smaller than I had been told to expect—I pulled my written text out of my pocket and prepared to launch into it. Someone gently informed me that the lecture was scheduled for later and that here I was expected to give only a brief, spontaneous greeting. Apparently, I hadn’t understood Henry’s briefing about arrangements, or perhaps we had been given the wrong information.
In the lecture itself (carefully written with the help of John and Steve), I acknowledged that I was probably not only the first American but the first Christian most of them had ever seen. I gave a profile of the American religious scene and the influence of the Judeo-Christian tradition on our legal and social systems. Explain-ing that I felt it was important for me to begin by defining my terms, I proceeded to give an extended summary of what Christians believe: “The Christian believes that we are not here by chance, but that the sovereign, all-powerful God of the universe created this world, and He created us for a purpose. . . . Down inside we sense that something is missing in our lives. There is an empty space and a loneliness in our hearts that we try to fill in all kinds of ways, but only God can fill it.”
The students were extremely attentive and not at all hostile, though some admittedly had puzzled expressions. The lecture was far different from anything they had ever heard. Although copies of my lecture had been passed out in English and Korean, I saw many students taking careful notes; perhaps they were uncertain whether they would be permitted to retain the printed copies. The university’s vice chancellor later told me that I was the first American ever to address their students.
Certainly the highlight of the trip, from one standpoint, was our meeting with President Kim Il Sung. It was not confirmed until just hours before it was to take place. On the morning of April 2, Ned and I, along with our small group, journeyed through the countryside about twenty or thirty miles to the compound where President Kim had a residence. It was a hilly, wooded area that reminded me of our part of North Carolina. President Kim greeted us very warmly as the cameras clicked. Then he had our entire party line up for an official photograph, which appeared in the North Korean newspapers the next day.
We then went into a smaller room with a long table down the center. The North Koreans sat on one side and we on the other as we exchanged greetings in the presence of our respective staffs. I was pleased to note that President Kim had included the leaders of the Korean Protestants Federation and the Korean Catholics Associa-tion in the meeting. The vice premier and foreign minister, Kim Yong Nam, was also present. We had met with him for almost two hours in his office the day before; in a very interesting conversation, he had reviewed his country’s positions on foreign policy.
I found President Kim to be very alert, with a deep, gravelly voice and a strong, charismatic personality. He made a special point of welcoming me warmly to the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Then, pointing outside at the early signs of spring, he expressed the hope that a new springtime was coming in D.P.R.K. / U.S. relations. He apparently wanted those remarks made public, for he stated them while the press corps was still in the room. After a few minutes, the reporters were excused, and we resumed our conversations on a more detailed level.
I congratulated President Kim on his upcoming eightieth birthday on April 15; everywhere in Pyongyang we had seen preparations being made for huge public celebrations of the event. After thanking me, he asked if he might see me privately, with only our interpreters present.
I had been in contact with President Bush concerning our trip; and shortly before our departure, he had asked me to convey a brief verbal greeting to President Kim, which I was glad to do. We had already indicated to our hosts that we had been asked to do this. Although it was not a detailed message, the mere fact that an American President was extending a greeting to the head of a nation with which we were technically still at war was symbolically very significant to them. President Kim responded by asking me to convey a similar verbal message in return.
Pope John Paul II had also asked me to convey a message—a rather detailed one—to the North Korean leader. President Kim listened carefully but had no response. Our contacts later indicated that the pope had presented too comprehensive a proposal for the North Koreans to accept at that stage, given the lack of previous contact between the Vatican and the D.P.R.K.
Following our meeting, Pre
sident Kim invited our whole Team to a magnificent luncheon of Korean specialties, held around a single massive circular table in a large room overlooking the wooded hills. Once again the area reminded me of home. The final course was Korean watermelon, apparently grown in a hothouse and very sweet. I casually remarked that it was the most delicious I had ever tasted. The next day a crate of watermelons arrived at our guest house for us to take home with us!
President Kim also sent over a splendid hand-embroidered tapestry depicting two colorful pheasants in a spectacular wooded setting. The tapestry was encased in a beautiful wooden frame inlaid with mother-of-pearl. His son, Kim Jong Il, gave us a gift of an ornamental chafing dish carved out of jade. Ned and the other members of our group were also given special gifts.
One other highlight of the trip was of a more personal nature—a visit to the site of the old Pyeng Yang Foreign School where Ruth and her two sisters had attended high school. All the buildings had been destroyed by bombs during the Korean War, but our hosts had researched the school’s location and took us to the site. The original compound was quite extensive, for it had housed not only the Foreign School but also a number of mission houses and a school for Koreans. An uncle of President Kim Il Sung is reputed to have attended that school.
The location, now occupied by the Russian Embassy, is only a few blocks from the Mansudae Assembly Hall, where North Korea’s Supreme People’s Assembly meets. It is also near the Po-tong, one of two rivers that run through Pyongyang. We couldn’t enter the embassy grounds themselves, although the section we saw appeared to be disused. (The Russian government had only a limited diplomatic presence in North Korea following the collapse of the Soviet Union.)
An older woman who was an active member of Bongsu Church and had ties with the missionaries in former times accompanied us, pointing out where the various buildings had been located. After-ward Ned and I stopped by the nearby Potong Gate, one of the main entrances into the old walled city.