The Bridge: The Role of North Korean Defectors in a Unified Korea in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook Jang holds a bachelor’s degree in Political Science from Korea University and a master’s degree in International Development from Brandeis University. A Fulbright Scholar and LiNK US Scholarship grantee, she is currently a research intern at the Hudson Institute, where her work focuses on post-conflict recovery, economic development, and human development. Her recent publications include “Slipping through the Cracks in South Korea: The Uncertain Futures for the Children of North Korean Defectors” with the Migration Policy Institute, and “Why Strengthening RFA Is a Strategic Imperative for US Policy on North Korea” in The Diplomat.

The door opens, and an elderly woman with white hair steps out. It is Emma's mother, Sun. Emma's voice fails her. She collapses into tears. Sun startles at the sound, turns toward Emma, and, in an instant, knows. It is her daughter.
"Euna!" her mother cries. The name no one had spoken aloud for thirty years. "Mom!" Emma answers, and they fall into each other’s arms.
Words fail them. They weep, touching each other's faces and hands as if to make sure the other is real. Emma feels with her palms the smaller body her mother now has, the sharp ridges of her shoulder blades, and cries harder.
"Look how you've grown," her mother manages through tears, cupping Emma's face in both hands. "You've become... a woman."
Emma pulls her closer. "Mom, I'm sorry. I left you alone." Her mother draws her in tighter, and murmurs into her hair: "You are here. You are alive. That is enough. I have missed you."
Sun had prayed to God every day for her daughter's new life, even without fully knowing religion itself.
For the first time since leaving, Emma cries in her mother's arms like a child.
And so for the next several hours, mother and daughter spend their time filling in thirty years of unshared life: how Emma met her husband Sam, how she spent each birthday without family, what it was like to settle into South Korean society.
After a while, Sun asks a kind of question Emma had not expected; a question filled with curiosity, hope, and all the images of South Korea she had imagined from afar.
“Is South Korea really like a K-drama?” Sun asks, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes, it often feels like it" Emma replies with quiet confidence. "I was able to study freely, for the life I wanted."
Sun shakes her head slowly, in something between disbelief and wonder. "To think, if you had stayed in North Korea, none of it would have been imaginable. Graduate school. A life like that. I suppose it really is a drama kind of place."
And yet not everything had felt like a drama. Settlement in South Korea had meant starting from zero: a political system unlike anything she knew, a language full of foreign words that made her feel dizzy just listening to it. She survived by studying fiercely and endured countless hours alone. It was the kind of loneliness that stayed at the back of the throat, the kind you feel when you fall ill and have no one to call, or when you achieve something and have no one to tell.
Emma takes her mother's hand. "Mom, everything will feel enormous and new at first. There will be moments when not knowing even small things makes you feel small too. But I will be there. So don't worry. We'll start this new life together."
As the words leave her mouth, she feels quietly grateful that she had gone through all of it first, knowing the path her mother is about to walk. And she finds herself already picturing it: the two of them sitting across from each other at her favorite pork belly restaurant Dwehyaji (돼야지), near Korea University, sharing a bottle of soju, talking until the night runs out. She smiles to herself at the thought.
The faces of the mentors and friends who had taught her culture and society drift through her mind, one by one, and she carries her gratitude for them again, as the sun goes down over Hyesan.
Emma falls asleep in the very spot where she slept as a child. It still feels like a dream. She closes her eyes, hoping she will not wake if it is.
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 words.
–
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.
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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.
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