Disrupting the North Korean Regime’s Control: Increasing Information Access
North Korea is the most closed and isolated information environment in the world. The regime’s control hinges upon suppressing outside sources of information that could contradict or undermine their ideology. This makes their system of repression extremely effective; it also highlights a critical weakness, one that creates an opportunity for us to effect change inside the country.
Information is power. It enables people to scrutinize the world around them, hold governments accountable, and aspire towards a better life.
At Liberty in North Korea, we’re empowering people inside North Korea with tailor-made tools and technologies that increase their information access, and make that access safer and easier. But what does this actually look like? We asked our Chief Strategy Officer, Sokeel Park, to answer some frequently asked questions about our Information Access Programs (IAP).
1. Without the internet, is it really possible to increase information access inside North Korea?
Yes, absolutely. North Korean people are already accessing uncensored information and media without the internet, notably through USB drives and MicroSD cards that are smuggled into the country and spread through sharing networks. These contain K-dramas, movies, music, and information that the North Korean regime tries so hard to keep out of the country.
The devices and hardware are already in use, the demand is there, and the sharing networks and behaviour exists. The need and opportunity is to leverage and build on this, providing new technologies that will help North Korean people access more uncensored information more safely.
2. Isn’t enabling North Koreans to access illegal foreign media putting them in danger?
Accessing uncensored information is risky in North Korea, especially with increased crackdowns and punishments in recent years. Our technologies and digital security tools equip North Koreans to access information more safely.
North Korean people will continue to take risks for information and media that most people in the world would take for granted.
User security is our highest priority in our development process, and this is guided by North Korean defectors who left the country recently, understand the environment, and can advise us on the best ways to protect and empower North Korean people who are trying to access uncensored information.
3. What is LiNK doing to increase North Korean people’s access to information?
LiNK’s IAP work can be broken down into four areas of focus.
We develop lightweight, secure programs help more North Koreans access more uncensored information; protect North Korean users with digital security and anti-surveillance measures; create and curate strategic content that meet North Korean people’s needs and build resilience to the regime’s propaganda; and work with distribution partners to deliver these technologies and content packages to North Koreans as reliably, effectively, and safely as we can.
4. Why did LiNK decide to do Information Access work?
In a 2024 HanVoice Woorion survey of 500 North Korean refugees, 86.2% agreed that “it is important to increase the flow of information to North Korean people.” This is the most effective way that we can support change inside North Korea.
As an organization, LiNK is uniquely positioned to do this work. With our long history of rescuing and supporting North Korean refugees, we have the networks and ability to work closely with a variety of North Koreans, including recent defectors and people who studied and worked in IT in North Korea, who inform and help test our products and strategies from start to finish.
Crucially, because of the support of people like you, we are able to make strategic investments in projects that governments or other funders may not support, which enables us to pursue the most effective long-term strategy possible to support North Korean people to achieve their freedom.
5. What kind of information can North Koreans access, both legally and illegally?
Legally, North Korean people have access to official media which is extremely centrally controlled and produced. There are no newspapers, TV stations or media channels with an alternative viewpoint from the government, and all official media serves to reinforce the regime’s ideologies and narratives about the outside world, their own country and the leadership. This official media includes, for instance, newspapers, North Korean films and dramas, carefully selected foreign (eg. Russian) films, partially censored sports broadcasts, radio, speeches by the ruling Kim family, government-approved books, and government-approved mobile apps.
Illegally accessed information or media could theoretically include anything, but most commonly would be movies and TV dramas from South Korea, China and elsewhere, music, some e-books, and foreign radio broadcasts including news and documentary programs. Close to the border with China, some North Korean people have a smuggled Chinese smartphone that can be used to connect to the Chinese network and communicate with or get information from the outside world.
→ Want to learn more about life inside North Korea? Sign up for North Korea 101, LiNK’s free online course!
6. How do we know increasing North Korean people’s access to information will help change North Korea?
Hundreds of interviews with North Korean refugees conducted by LiNK, and thousands more by other organizations, consistently show how access to outside information reshaped their understanding of the world, undermined regime propaganda, and often was key in their decision to risk their lives and seek freedom. We also see the North Korean regime’s crackdowns on this access to outside information, especially in recent years, as evidence that the regime understands the power of information to undermine their control and change their country as well.
Throughout history, we’ve seen similar dynamics in other authoritarian countries, where greater access to uncensored information has consistently increased aspirations for freedom, expanded people’s sense of what was possible, and played a key role in people overcoming dictatorships and achieving freedom across the world.
It is inherently difficult to capture and measure the long-term effects of information, particularly in a country like North Korea. But when history, logic, the testimony of countless North Koreans, and careful product and strategy validation processes all point in the same direction, investing in increasing North Korean people’s access to information is not a leap of faith. It is the strongest, most evidence-based opportunity to help North Koreans shape their future and ultimately achieve their liberty.
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In the first half of 2026, our IAP team successfully deployed new information-access technologies across one of the world’s most tightly controlled borders, and reached people inside North Korea.
We believe North Koreans deserve the freedom to access information and make their own choices, and we’re committed to helping them break through the regime’s surveillance and censorship. Increasing information access is one of the most effective ways that we can have a direct impact on North Korean people’s lives right now.
Help drive change from inside North Korea by investing in LiNK’s Information Access Programs.
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A North Korean Defector’s Nine Year Journey to Freedom | Eunju’s Story
I didn’t know I was hungry until I was eight years old. Growing up, I had no concept of whether my hometown was wealthy or poor. Then when the great famine struck in the mid-90s, more people died in our city than anywhere else in the country.
That’s when I realized “Oh, this is the most difficult place to live in North Korea.”
I was born in the city of Eundok, North Hamgyong Province. Before that it was called Aoji, a destitute place infamous for its coal mines, where South Korean prisoners of war were sent to work.
In the middle of a long famine, people lose all sense of humanity. You couldn’t survive without dirtying your hands. My father was a kindhearted person, the type that was unable to hurt anyone. But towards the end, hunger drove him to steal from our own house.
On my first day of middle school, I couldn’t find my new backpack anywhere. It turns out that my dad had taken it to the Jangmadang, traded it for food, and eaten it by himself. In the end, he still died from starvation, and my mom, my sister, and I were left to fend for ourselves.
We heard that if we went to China, we could eat all the candy we wanted. With that one piece of information, my mom said she’d rather get shot crossing the Tumen river than starve in North Korea.
It was mid-February in 1999, during the bitter cold winter. The water was frozen solid and stretched over 100 meters across. My mom went first, followed by my sister, and I was in the very back. Maybe it was because I was anxious, but my shoes felt so slippery and I kept falling over as they went farther and farther ahead. We heard that soldiers would shoot anyone who tried to cross the river. But this was our only chance at survival.
My mind was racing, “What if I’m left behind and get caught?” My mom and sister probably feared the same thing.
We encountered a tributary that wasn’t frozen all the way, so my mom waited and had me go first because I was the lightest. A few steps in, the ice broke and I fell into the piercing cold water. None of us knew how to swim. At that moment, I really thought it was the end. But then my feet hit the ground. We had made it to the other side.
Not long after we had crossed into China, a Korean-speaking woman came up to us. She invited us to her house and gave us over a dozen boiled eggs, more food than we had seen in years. In North Korea, when my sister and I had a field trip for school, my mom would cut one boiled egg and give each of us half in our lunch box. To have this much at once was a true luxury. For the first time in a long while, we dared to have some hope.
But then my mom was sold off to a Chinese man. The fortunate thing was that even though my sister and I were 16 and 14 years old, we were so short that people asked if we were 7 or 8. They couldn’t sell us separately, so we were sent together with our mom.
We had been sold for 2000 yuan. When we wanted to leave, the man told us to pay him back. We worked in his house and on his farm but of course we never saw a penny. For three years, we lived in confinement, and my little brother was born.
On a quiet night before my brother was even a year old, Chinese police came to the house in the dark, knocked on the door, and arrested us.
When North Koreans get caught, sometimes they’ll roll up their money and eat it or hide it, but we didn’t have anything. We were taken back across the border with just our clothes. It’s well known that there’s a physical exam to look for hidden money. In a way, you shouldn’t even feel a basic sense of shame as a woman and as a human being. If you cry or plead for mercy, you’ll get beaten up. You cannot question them at all.
With so many people in North Korea dying of starvation, names were removed from the family register after three years without any news. We had already been declared dead. There were two minors and an adult, but our identities couldn’t be confirmed. At the time they couldn’t keep minors in prison without a ruling from the court, so we were entrusted to another person from our hometown. No one wanted extra mouths to feed, so he just let us go.
We went straight to the Tumen river and in 2002, we escaped again.
I had enough food when I was in China. Even dogs and pigs ate rice and corn. But we lived looking over our shoulders, in constant fear of the police.
When we heard about life in South Korea, where our safety and identities would be guaranteed, we decided to defect once more. We were introduced to a broker, gave them some cash upfront, and traveled through Mongolia and the Gobi Desert.
On September 1st, 2006, I arrived at Incheon airport with my mom. My sister joined us in South Korea in 2008. Nine years after first crossing the Tumen River, we were finally together in freedom.
When I was in China, my only wish was that my mom, sister, and I could sleep together, eat together, and come home from work together. I dreamed that someday we could go to the supermarket and get a whole cart full of things to share. After coming to South Korea, we achieved not only that, but everything we’ve ever wanted.
I co-authored a book about my journey, A Thousand Miles to Freedom, with a foreign journalist named Sebastien Falletti. He interviewed several North Koreans, and I agreed to share my story with him out of a sense of duty. I never thought he’d choose me.
Compared to North Korean defectors who live special lives, I don’t actually dream of being a human rights activist. There are times when I don’t want to share anymore and I feel like I have to repeat myself.
But then I think about my best friend in North Korea. Her name is Sunhwa and I don’t think she’s here yet. I imagine that she would want to live like me — to attend college, pave her own way, and explore the vast world we live in. But she is still stuck in the darkness. Until Sunhwa can live a life of freedom, I feel a sense of responsibility to continue to share.
When I think of North Korea, the dark image of my hometown floods my memories. But I would still like to go back just once and visit my dad’s grave. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that he was also a victim of the North Korean regime. I have hope that in this lifetime, North Korea will open up. I’ll return with my mom and my sister, and together we’ll visit my dad’s resting place and prepare a huge meal for him.
For North Koreans to share their stories with audiences around the world, retelling and reliving some of the most harrowing experiences, is an act of exceptional courage. They’re working towards the day when others no longer have to go through the same painful experiences.
You can help rescue more North Korean refugees and support them as they begin their new lives in freedom.
