We Call BTS “Bangdan” | Cultural Shifts in North Korea
By: Hannah Oh
Hannah is a North Korea-born intern at Liberty in North Korea’s Seoul office. This article has been reconstructed from her perspective based on DailyNK reports from March 2026.
⏱️ 30-second summary
- K-Pop Power: Young people in North Korea refer to BTS as “BT” to avoid attracting the attention of authorities. They empathize with song lyrics that touch their hearts, in sharp contrast to the ideology prescribed by the state. Even amidst strict crackdowns on South Korean media, people are consuming and sharing K-Pop with their peers.
- Resetting Relationships: It’s now common to see couples in North Korea spending time together in cafes, signaling a change in people’s daily lives. A new culture is emerging where people build relationships by sitting face-to-face over coffee and conversation.
- Expanding Self-Expression: New beauty standards that favor slim bodies and skincare have become popularized. As outside information spreads in North Korea, it’s gradually changing people’s tastes and self-expression.
BTS is a name recognized by people all over the world. This global K-Pop group’s music is even reaching audiences in the most closed country to exist today: North Korea.
The North Korean government severely cracks down on the consumption and spread of foreign media, like South Korean music and dramas. Through foreign media, North Koreans are able to learn things about the outside world that contradict and challenge the regime’s propaganda. In response, the regime passed the “anti-reactionary thought law” in December 2020, which made watching foreign media punishable by 15 years in a political prison camp.
To avoid being caught discussing and sharing about BTS, North Koreans are reportedly shortening the name to “BT.” Even though they cannot directly mention their favorite idol group, they are expressing their fandom by using slang that they understand among themselves.
Changes to daily life in North Korea extend beyond music tastes. From couples quietly conversing in cafes to women experimenting with K-Beauty, this article follows the stories of North Koreans who, despite control and restrictions, are shaping culture and cultivating new standards of leisure, beauty, and expression.
Why North Korean Youth Gravitate Towards K-Pop
It is reported that among young people in North Korea, it is common to refer to BTS, or “Bangtan,” as BT, or “Bangdan,” to avoid the scrutiny of North Korean authorities cracking down on illegal foreign media. Fans in North Korea have cited songs such as “I’m Fine,” “Go,” “Danger,” and “Spring Day” as their favorites, and expressed a desire to dress like the BTS members.
These developments might suggest that instead of foreign media being a taboo topic of discussion, it has become a language of taste shared among peers.
In response to the popularity of South Korean music, North Korean authorities imposed a city-wide lecture series that warned “The only love young people should pursue is revolutionary and comradely love.” However, after the lectures ended, it is reported that the sentiment among young people was that “South Korean song lyrics seem to understand my heart,” and “the emotions they actually feel” over “the emotions permitted by the state.”
Cuppaccinos Over Flowers: Dating Culture in North Korea
In North Korea, there is still a strong perception that cafes are places frequented only by the well-off. However, this year on March 8th for International Women’s Day, reports emerged of husbands visiting coffee shops with their wives, holding hands, and spending time drinking lattes or cappuccinos. Rather than traditional gestures like flowers or doing extra housework, there seems to be a cultural shift of celebrating by spending time together.
After visiting a cafe for the first time, residents reportedly commented that “It’s surprisingly nice because you can talk quietly.” Their perception of this space—previously considered unsuitable for leisure amidst busy lives—changed after actually experiencing it for themselves. The growing popularity of cafes as a space where two people can sit face-to-face and share a private conversation may seem like a minor development, but it is not insignificant.
People’s perceptions and behaviors don’t only change when systems or policies are altered; shifts in how individuals interact and go about their daily lives is also a catalyst for change.
The Far-Reaching Influence of K-Beauty
There have also been reports that interest in beauty treatments and taking care of one’s appearance is growing in North Korea, particularly among affluent women. Younger women have taken to dieting, while middle-aged women are spending money on cosmetic procedures like Botox to reduce wrinkles. North Korean beauty standards have historically favored a fuller figure to look healthy, but now there is an emerging preference to look slimmer. According to one source, this is due to the influence of South Korean culture.
Even in South Korea, there is an ongoing debate as to whether striving for a slim body and youthful appearance is a healthy pursuit. Nevertheless, this shift in North Korean beauty habits is notable.
Individuals are seeking change and acting on their own initiative, influenced by external information, rather than following the standards set out by the regime.
However, it must be noted that these developments seem to be more prominent among wealthy women with financial means, as opposed to the entire population.
Pop Culture as a Catalyst for Change in North Korea
The global influence of K-Pop groups like BTS is usually measured by streaming numbers or chart rankings. But the most significant marker of impact might be found in North Korea, where people risk their lives to listen to their songs. Even in the most closed country in the world, there are people who enjoy heartfelt music, shared conversation over a cup of coffee, and self-care.
If you zoom in past the image of North Korea as a bleak, oppressed country, there are millions of people going about their everyday lives. Small cultural shifts and changing attitudes may seem insignificant. But over time, these compounding changes could bring about transformation in North Korea.
Increasing Information Access for North Korean People
As evidenced by these developments, North Koreans are watching foreign media and have a growing awareness of the outside world. At Liberty in North Korea, we believe that access to uncensored outside information is key to increasing forces of change and opening inside the country. Empowered with information access, North Koreans can imagine a different life for themselves and push the boundaries of the regime’s control.
We work with North Korean partners and engineers to develop and distribute tailored technology and content to help more people inside the country safely access uncensored information.
You can help bring truth to where it’s urgently needed.
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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.
