The Bible is the "most dangerous book on earth,"
George Bernard Shaw famously warned a century ago. Today, Shaw's words ring true – literally – for
the 24 million people of North Korea.
Possession of a Bible is a one-way ticket to the gulag or worse.
The worst came true this month for a handful of North
Koreans who were caught with Bibles, which are outlawed by the communist
regime. The Christians were among a
group of 80 North Koreans who were executed by firing squad on Sunday, November
3, according to a report in the South Korean daily, JoongAng Ilbo. The
executions were public, and took place in seven cities across the country. In the port city of Wonsan, "eight
people were tied to a stake at a local stadium, had their heads covered with
white sacks, and were shot with a machine gun." Ten thousand spectators, including children,
were forced to witness the executions.
The families of the victims were dispatched to political
prison camps, a move in keeping with the regime's long-standing policy of
punishing three generations of a family for one member's transgressions. Most inmates do not survive long in North
Korea's prison camps.
Persecuting Christians is a tradition of the ruling Kim
family. North Korea's young dictator,
Kim Jong Un, is the third generation of dictators to kill, torture, and
imprison Koreans of faith. Like his
father, Kim Jong Il, and his grandfather, Kim Il Sung, he understands the
threat that Christianity poses to his rule.
With its message of individual freedom, Christianity offers a potent
alternative to the Kim family cult of personality.
Kim Il Sung mostly eradicated Christianity from North Korea
in the 1950s and 1960s through a brutal policy of murdering religious leaders,
imprisoning believers who would not recant, and banishing others to remote
regions. Yet now Christianity is on the
rise. North Koreans are learning about
the Bible from countrymen who flee to China and receive help from Christians,
or from Bibles smuggled into the country by foreign missionaries or dropped
from balloons launched from South Korea.
The only worship permitted in North Korea is that of the Kim
family dictators. Every North Korean
wears a badge over his heart displaying a photograph of the smiling face of Kim Il Sung, the
country's founder. Citizens are required
to adhere to a national belief system called Juche. The regime considers
any religion a competitor to the Kims' pre-eminence. North Koreans who have fled the country tell
gruesome stories of the regime's cruel treatment of believers.
In South Korea, the Korean Institute for National
Unification publishes an annual book-length report on human rights in the North,
based on interviews with North Koreans who have escaped. In this year's edition, numerous refugees
describe the regime's persecution of Christians. One spoke of a family that hid their Bible in
a magpie's nest, perched in a tree near their home. The family had been Christians since before
the founding of the communist regime, and had worshipped in secret for more
than half a century. When a neighbor cut
a branch off the tree and their Bible was discovered, three generations of the
family disappeared. In the refugee's
words, the Christians were sent to "a place of no return."
Since Kim Jong Un took power in 2011, gullible outside
observers have fooled themselves into believing the Swiss-educated,
basketball-loving dictator is a kinder, gentler Kim. But this month's mass executions leave little
doubt that he "is playing by his father's playbook," says Grigore
Scarlatoiu, Executive Director of the Committee for Human Rights in North
Korea, a Washington D.C. based research organization. "Within the bizarre world of the Kim
family regime, the executions of Christians and others make perfect
sense," Mr. Scarlatoiu says. Kim
Jong Un's "top strategic objective is regime preservation."
Seen that way, the executions signal that the regime is
worried about the public's growing awareness of alternative worldviews, and
fearful of the potential for grass-roots opposition to its rule. Christianity, especially, is a threat to the
regime's survival. If more North Koreans
decide to transfer their allegiance from the Kims to the God of the universe,
the regime's days may be numbered.
May we all continue to lift up our brothers and sisters
around the world, who live in perilous conditions, to pray for their safety and
God's intervention in their land of oppression.
This article was
written by Melanie Kirkpatrick, a senior fellow at the Hudson Institute, and
published in the Wall Street Journal, November 15, 2013.


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