Why You've Never Heard of Rimjingang Before Now and Why You Now Love Them

Imagine a place where the leader of your country is your god, and so are his father and his son. You never have enough to eat, but your government apparatchiks are constantly placated with Mercedes-Benzes and the finest in food, drink, and women. Where you are constantly told to prepare for war with the world, but your own neighbors spy on you (and you on them) like a war zone.

Welcome to North Korea. A place where "committing journalism" can be punished by imprisonment or execution of not only yourself, but three generations of your family. A decade ago, nobody outside the reclusive country knew what happened across the 38th parallel. The only news the west got from North Korea was written by the North Korean government to showcase its perverted ideal of heaven on earth. Despite the comedy factor of the official reports coming from the Korean Central News Agency, journalists and laypersons alike were more or less shut out of the country.

That is about to change.

Meet Jiro Ishimaru, the president of Asia Press' Osaka office, and the de facto Editor-in-Chief of Rimjingang, a publication written by North Korean citizen journalists who smuggle their stories out of the country at great risk to themselves and their families. This "clandestine journalism" is blowing the doors off of our previous perceptions of the reclusive country; in recent years, clandestine journalists (though not necessarily Rimjingang journalists) have smuggled out footage of public executions and quasi-legal "jangmadang," private markets that are the only things that keep many North Koreans from dying from starvation. In the mid 1990s, there was no such capitalist safety net for the North Korean people; as a result, nearly two million North Koreans died of starvation.

In an interview with another clandestine journalist organization, the defector-run Daily NK, Ishimaru explained the purpose of his organization's unique and effective approach to news gathering in North Korea:

"... [T]he purpose is to plant the seed of journalism. It is the demands of time that spurs on North Korea’s necessity for independent journalism. Media is indeed an essential element in creating a democratic society. The outside world must know what is taking place inside North Korea, and it is the insiders that must release this information to the outside world."

This sentiment is what journalism, to me, is all about. Today, too many people put stock into pseudo-journalistic enterprises such as TMZ and Perez Hilton, and, although the aforementioned organizations are very good at what they do, it can hardly be described as "journalism." These brave North Koreans who are risking their lives to let the outside world know how horrible their country really is merits considerable praise: after all, that's what journalists do; shed light on uncomfortable and (in this case) downright horrifying aspects of the human condition in order to allow people to better live their lives.

Training North Koreans (many of whom have never used a camera or cell phone) to become media-savvy in the 21st Century has not been an easy task for Mr. Ishimaru. Fortunately for Ishimaru, and humanity as a whole, a brave soul stepped to the plate in the person of Lee Joon. Lee is one of those ideologues who feels it is his duty to change the world through journalism. Ishimaru taught Lee how to be a modern journalist, and since 2004 Lee has been reporting from inside the most reclusive country in the world. He has also been teaching some of his countrymen what he knows, and these brave journalists are the background of Rimjingang.

The journalists are not allowed to know each other for their own safety. According to Ishimaru, none of the reporters are from the elite of North Korean society, but some are able to report from the elite-only capital of Pyongyang. The rest of the reporters operate in the "capitals" of the provinces; those who operate in the strictly controlled border regions (such as Sinuiju and Hyesan) must be extremely careful to avoid the secret policemen who are tasked with their destruction.

Rimjingang has published its first English-language edition. Unfortunately, it comes in at a hefty $110, but its importance in shedding light on the horrors of the Kim regime in North Korea makes it worth its weight in gold. I highly encourage those of you who are able and interested to purchase Rimjingang, and allow some of the bravest journalists on the face of the Earth to show you why they do what they do.