Returning Home to a Free North Korea | A Glimpse of Reunification in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook is a 2024 LiNK US Scholarship grantee, a Fulbright Scholar, and a North Korean defector pursuing a master’s degree in international development at Brandeis University, where she focuses on post-conflict, economic, and human development. She holds a bachelor’s degree in political science and international peace from Korea University.
In the spring of 2045, on a flight from Incheon to Pyongyang, Emma's hands tremble. Her husband Sam reaches over and, steadily, holds them without a word. She turns to the window and stares into the pale clouds below the wing.
“I’ve waited 30 years for this day,” she whispers. “But now that I’m here… it doesn’t feel real. I hope this isn’t a dream.”
“Maybe it’s both,” Sam replies. “The dream became real.”
She closes her eyes. In 2015, at just fifteen years old, she crossed the frozen Yalu River in a dark March morning, leaving without saying a proper goodbye to her mother. That guilt, its intensity, has never faded, not even after thirty years. It simply learns to live quietly beside her.
“Will Mom recognize me?” she asks. “We parted when I was fifteen. I’m forty-five now.”
“She will,” Sam answers. “How could a mother not recognize her daughter?”
Emma says nothing. Will I... be able to recognize her? She does not say it aloud this time.
An announcement comes through the cabin speakers: "This is the first return flight for North Korean defectors to their hometowns. We know how much you have endured. We will carry you safely home."
It is a rare moment of comfort from a South Korean voice. Moments later, the plane lifts into the sky.
An hour later, the plane lands in Pyongyang. Emma weeps quietly, overwhelmed by the thought that across so short a distance, lives in the South and the North had been so utterly, irreconcilably different. For thirty years, she had not been able to cross it, that gap, so small.
From Pyongyang, the journey to Hyesan continues by bus. As the skyline of Pyongyang passes past the window, its taller buildings, its broad avenues, Emma allows herself the fragile hope: perhaps Hyesan has developed too.
After five hours on the road, the bus arrives at Hyesan Station. The apartments and the lay of the land are almost entirely unchanged from when she had left thirty years earlier, as if time had refused to move, as if it had been waiting for her. Emma found herself hoping the same might be true of her mother.
A thirty minutes' walk from the station: that is where her mother's house is.
As if drawn by a magnet, her feet start moving on their own.
Sam asks if they are going the right way. Without hesitation, "Yes," Emma replies. "I used to walk this road every day as a child. It’s still in my body."
He points to a bus queue down the street. "There's a bus queue over there. Want to take it part of the way?" She shakes her head gently. "If you don't mind, I'd like to walk." "Then we’ll walk," he replies without hesitation. Emma feels another surge of gratitude, grips on his arm and follows her memory home.
Since Emma left her hometown in 2015, the North Korean regime has conducted ten more nuclear tests as of 2045. And yet the face of this neighborhood has not changed by a single detail. The freedom and human rights that should have been the people's return on those tests have been vaporized into the air.
They arrive at a fork in the road. To the left, an alley leads toward the house. A familiar-looking house comes into view, enclosed by a wooden fence. She stops and stands motionless. It is the house, it is her house.
Several minutes pass. Then the door opens. Emma feels her breath catch. For a second, she forgets how to move.
After thirty years, she is here.
This is what the micropolitics of reunification looks like. Grand narratives, speeches, and legal texts may provide its official language, but its lived realities lie in moments, in feelings, like this: a mother and daughter recognizing each other after thirty years apart.
Author’s note: I dedicate this piece to my father in South Korea, who has never once wavered in encouraging my studies, as if realizing through me the freedom to pursue the dreams that were taken from him. And to my mother, who remains in North Korea: This piece is my proof that your daughter has not turned away from your suffering, but is working, in her own small way, to fight against it. I hope to see you, even if only in my dreams tonight. I love and miss you beyond my expression.
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Eunsook is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.
Crisis for North Korean Human Rights NGOs: Urgent Support Needed
The North Korean human rights movement is at a critical crossroads.
Unprecedented cuts to U.S. foreign aid under the Trump Administration have impacted projects around the world, including that of crucial South Korean NGOs working on the North Korea issue.
Until funding is fully resumed, these organizations face the prospect of downsizing or shutting down, threatening the entire ecosystem of groups working for the rights and freedom of North Korean people. Life-changing programs and decades of progress inside and outside North Korea are at risk of being undone.
Your immediate support is needed to help save the most critical projects of these organizations. LiNK has identified the core groups essential to preserving progress on this issue and has launched an emergency support fund—100% of donations will go directly to sustaining them through this crisis.
Historical Funding for North Korea-Focused NGOs
In the mid-1990s, reports of a devastating famine in North Korea and the first waves of refugees fleeing starvation caught the attention of South Korean activists. They travelled to the border of China to investigate and, realizing the severity of the situation, began campaigning in South Korea and internationally. For the first time, there was visibility on the humanitarian crisis and vast human rights violations happening in one of the most closed countries in the world.
In the wake of the Cold War, many politicians and governments had little interest in North Korea beyond seeing it as an emerging security problem. The widespread assumption was that the country would soon collapse, just as many other socialist countries had in the late 20th century.
To address the lack of action and attention, several groups focused on North Korean human rights emerged. Citizens Alliance for North Korean Human Rights was founded in 1996. NKnet was founded in 1998 and launched Daily NK in 2004. NKDB was established in 2003. Liberty in North Korea was founded in 2004.
From direct support for North Korean refugees, activism expanded to documenting human rights violations, raising public awareness, pressuring governments to take action, and getting outside information to people inside North Korea through broadcasts and USB smuggling. As the movement and North Korean defector population grew, new groups led by North Koreans themselves also emerged.
All organizations started with very few resources, and funding has often been an issue for groups in South Korea. Given the politicized nature of North Korea, support for activism has frequently fluctuated. When the political atmosphere aligned with this work, more funding would be available from the South Korean government. But when politics and administrations changed, grants dried up and public support would wane. In some cases, NGOs would even be subject to politically-motivated investigations, further hindering their vital work.
In late 2024, South Korean President Yoon’s martial law declaration and the subsequent impeachment proceedings once again left North Korean human rights organizations with a government unable to help, and a political environment not conducive to gaining support.
In these difficult circumstances, many groups in South Korea have come to rely on funding from international sources. As U.S. interest in the North Korea issue had grown in D.C., grants through the National Endowment for Democracy (NED) and the State Department (DRL) had become consistent and reliable sources of funding. Unlike those sometimes offered by the South Korean government, these grants covered not only the cost of activities, but also staff salaries, making it possible for these groups to operate sustainably.
U.S. government support had historically been immune to the kind of political winds that affected South Korean government funding. But recent US government disruption has left these NGOs on the brink.
U.S. Foreign Aid Freezes
The Trump administration started its second term with immediate cuts to U.S. foreign aid programs. State Department grants were frozen and the NED's funds were cut, suspending dozens of crucial grants to NGOs working on North Korea and leaving an uncertain picture of when or if funding might resume.
With the world’s largest economy, the U.S. was the biggest provider of foreign assistance by a significant margin. This loss of funding is unlikely to be replenished by other sources. Many European countries have also recently slashed their foreign assistance contributions to spend more on defense.
For South Korea-based NGOs, this funding disruption leaves a huge gap with very few options to fill it in South Korea or elsewhere. As a result, nearly all of these organizations are being forced to lay off staff, stop critical projects, and even consider the unthinkable: shutting down for good.
What This Means for LiNK & the Issue
LiNK is built on a funding model that is independent from government budgets, and is not directly affected by the recent aid freezes. But if the larger ecosystem of North Korean NGOs that we operate within diminishes or collapses, it will inevitably have an impact on the scope and efficacy of our work.
Even with an issue as big as North Korea, the community of organizations and individuals doing this work is relatively small. All our efforts are interconnected and mutually reinforcing. With many frontline NGOs now in danger, it jeopardizes progress on this issue as a whole.
LiNK relies on the research of these other groups to inform our programs. We join forces with them for international advocacy, share ideas, and consult each other on critical projects. With confidence in the vast array of work that these groups are doing, LiNK is able to be laser focused on a few select projects and maximize our impact.
Organizations like Human Rights Watch, UN agencies, global media outlets, and researchers also depend on these groups for their contacts, networks, research, and advocacy. Without their work and insights, globally we would be left in the dark about the current state of North Korea.
In South Korea, the individuals working on this issue are doing so with significant personal sacrifice. Given the unstable and politicized nature of the work, many activists have struggled to make a living wage, and face concern and criticism from their peers.
Funding through NED and DRL had just recently made it possible for some groups to pay staff a more sustainable salary. But even that relative stability is now gone. They have been left with no choice but to downsize and move out of offices. Staff have been laid off or put on unpaid leave. NGO leaders who have dedicated ten to twenty of their best years to this issue are now facing the prospect of leaving this field. Some feel that decades of work and effort may now abruptly end in failure.
At a time when North Korean people deserve more solidarity and support than ever, the community of activists working to mobilize and deliver that support is facing the worst crisis since the start of this movement in the 1990s.
Key NGOs in Crisis
Urgent Support is Needed
Our shared vision is bold. It not only deserves but will require a strong ecosystem of NGOs working together for the rights and freedoms of 26 million North Korean people.
You’ve stood with the North Korean people, and with us, and for that we’re deeply grateful. So we’re asking for your help. We have an opportunity to protect the progress we have made together on this issue, and to help save the most critical programs of these organizations.
Will you join us by making a donation today to ensure that this small community of dedicated organizations can continue their life-changing work?
Your donation could mean that a highly dedicated and skilled activist is not forced to look for other work. It could mean that a project inside North Korea, where the groundwork has already been laid, can be executed and finished. At this time of crisis, your donation will have an outsized impact. It is far more cost effective and efficient to preserve this work than to have to rebuild from scratch.
This campaign has concluded. Thank you for your support!
