How Has the Kim Family Held on to Power So Long?
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“This question is fundamental. To understand where we are and where we might be heading, we have to understand where we’ve come from.” – Sokeel Park, LiNK CSO
The North Korean regime is the world’s worst dictatorship, an extreme remnant of 20th century authoritarianism that has stretched across eight decades and three generations of the ruling Kim family. The regime’s all-encompassing system of control constrains the North Korean people’s agency and potential, resulting in an enforced poverty which includes physiological, material, social, informational, and cultural deprivations.
It is not easy for dictators to maintain power for long. During the Kim family’s rule, the world has seen the rise and fall of dozens of other dictatorships. Through many periods of global change and internal instability, they’ve managed to maintain power not by sheer force or luck, but through an array of adaptive strategies. But when the media portrays Kim Jong Un as crazy or irrational, it undermines our understanding and approaches to try to undermine that dictatorship.
There is a formula to their approach, and if we can understand it, then we can counteract it.
The Four Ways Dictators Lose Power
Historically, the fall of dictators can be attributed to four factors. By looking at each of them, we can see how the ruling Kim family has strategically avoided these fates.
1. Military Defeat/International Intervention
An external country or force intervening and overthrowing a dictator through military defeat.
2. Elite Challenges
An internal challenge emerging from within the country’s top political or military circles, forcibly removing the current dictator by assasination or a coup d'état,
3. Popular Uprising
An internal challenge from below, where a mass movement forces a change in leadership. In some cases, parts of the elite may join the side of the masses.
4. Death in Office
The death of the current leader, opening up an opportunity for someone else to assume control and end the dictatorship or make significant changes.
Threat #1: Preventing Military Overthrow
To prevent an external power from overthrowing their dictatorship, the Kim family first needs a strong deterrent against military force. The vast majority of mainstream news coverage of North Korea focuses on one thing: nuclear weapons. Having nuclear weapons and being seen as potentially willing and able to use them is arguably the most effective way to deter a military intervention from the outside.
Second, the Kim family has strategically managed their relations with countries like the Soviet Union / Russia, China, the United States, and South Korea. They go back and forth between periods of warmer and colder relations, effectively balancing opportunities and risks to gain support while preventing too much external influence. It’s unlikely that the Kim family has ever really trusted any of these external powers, even those that are sometimes labelled as “allies”.
Threat #2: Preventing Elite Challenges
Historically, the position of dictator can be very tempting to others within the leadership’s orbit, from competing family members to senior politicians or military leaders. To prevent anyone from building too much power and becoming a threat, the ruling Kim family carefully manages elite politics, alternating between demoting, promoting, and purging top officials.
On top of that, cross-layered surveillance between different institutions also keeps potential challengers under surveillance and in check, and prevents any one person or group of people from launching a challenge for power.
Threat #3: Preventing Popular Uprisings
The next scenario that the regime must prevent is a popular uprising.
A common conception of North Korea is that if the people wanted to rise up and revolt, they would have, and so they must be brainwashed or bought into the regime’s ideologies. While the latter may be true to some degree, it's difficult to fully grasp the extent to which the government’s system of control deprives people of their agency and potential and prevents them from challenging dictatorial rule.
North Korea is the most closed country in the world. The regime has forcibly cut off North Koreans from the rest of humanity, which serves as the baseline for their control. This centers everything—social structure, daily life, resources, information—around the regime, and eliminates sources that could undermine or threaten their authoritarian rule.
Laying the Foundation: Kim Il Sung’s Half-Century in Power
Kim Il Sung was 33 years old when he was installed into power by the Soviet Union—very young in global politics at the time, when most leaders were in their 50s and 60s. This historical happenstance has ended up being a key factor in the longevity of the Kim family’s control.
From his rise to power in 1945 to his death in 1994 at the age of 82, Kim Il Sung had 49 years to mold North Korea’s politics and systems in his image. During this time, he laid the foundation for hereditary succession by:
- Centralizing power around this dictatorship.
- Building a cult of personality around himself and his direct lineage: propaganda and myth-making that legitimized the Kim family as the only North Koreans worthy to lead the country.
- Purging anyone who could have been an alternative leader.
When it came time for Kim Jong Il to assume power, and the Kim Jong Un after that, decades of preparation smoothened the transition.
Now, after three generations of the Kim family, it would be very difficult for anyone else, even among the upper elite, to try and take power. Even if someone did manage to depose the current dictator, they would have to contend with not just managing the power vacuum, but the ideological void left by decades of propaganda and mythmaking that surrounded the Kim family.
Without the legitimacy that had been set up by the Kims, a new leader would likely find it difficult to maintain power for long. This is something that North Korean elites understand, which further discourages any rival officials from challenging the current regime.

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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.



