Polemos
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North Koreans' Tears, Sadness Upon Kim Jong Il's Death - TIME
Why do they do it? The answer, as is usual in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK), is complicated. Many psychologists who view these scenes from afar consider them legitimate. Raised in isolation and fed an unrelenting diet of personality-cult-driven propaganda for their entire lives, a people can feel rudderless and grief-stricken when they hear that Kim has joined his late father, the Great Leader Kim Il Sung, in the afterlife. Scott Atran, a psychologist at the University of Michigan, notes accurately enough that the people of North Korea were told from Day One that virtually everything they have came from the Dear Leader, "and they have no alternative form of reality." And mass grief, though particularly intense in North Korea, isn't wholly unique. Chinese of a certain age recall that when Mao Zedong died in 1976, many Chinese were shocked into tears that the father of their country was no longer with them.
But as Jane Bolton, a psychiatrist, wrote last year in Psychology Today, "a lot of misunderstanding happens around the act of crying," and in North Korea, is that ever true. There are reasons other than grief that enter into play that, to put it politely, would not be a factor elsewhere. Cheong Seong Chang, a longtime North Korea watcher in Seoul, notes that mid-level party officials, if they are seen to be wailing louder than co-workers, "might get promoted."
.........................
Still, clues about what North Koreans actually think are maddeningly elusive. You take them where you can and try to fit them into the puzzle. Consider this: I spent a few days visiting a new university just outside Pyongyang about two weeks before Kim Jong Il died. The school is attended by elite kids, many of them connected to senior levels of government or the military. Some of the faculty and administration of this experimental new school — all of whom are foreigners — were on campus when the announcement of Kim's death came. I asked one person how the students had reacted to the news. Was there wailing, gnashing of teeth, rending of garments? "They were quiet, definitely," this person said. "But there was no crying."
Why do they do it? The answer, as is usual in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK), is complicated. Many psychologists who view these scenes from afar consider them legitimate. Raised in isolation and fed an unrelenting diet of personality-cult-driven propaganda for their entire lives, a people can feel rudderless and grief-stricken when they hear that Kim has joined his late father, the Great Leader Kim Il Sung, in the afterlife. Scott Atran, a psychologist at the University of Michigan, notes accurately enough that the people of North Korea were told from Day One that virtually everything they have came from the Dear Leader, "and they have no alternative form of reality." And mass grief, though particularly intense in North Korea, isn't wholly unique. Chinese of a certain age recall that when Mao Zedong died in 1976, many Chinese were shocked into tears that the father of their country was no longer with them.
But as Jane Bolton, a psychiatrist, wrote last year in Psychology Today, "a lot of misunderstanding happens around the act of crying," and in North Korea, is that ever true. There are reasons other than grief that enter into play that, to put it politely, would not be a factor elsewhere. Cheong Seong Chang, a longtime North Korea watcher in Seoul, notes that mid-level party officials, if they are seen to be wailing louder than co-workers, "might get promoted."
.........................
Still, clues about what North Koreans actually think are maddeningly elusive. You take them where you can and try to fit them into the puzzle. Consider this: I spent a few days visiting a new university just outside Pyongyang about two weeks before Kim Jong Il died. The school is attended by elite kids, many of them connected to senior levels of government or the military. Some of the faculty and administration of this experimental new school — all of whom are foreigners — were on campus when the announcement of Kim's death came. I asked one person how the students had reacted to the news. Was there wailing, gnashing of teeth, rending of garments? "They were quiet, definitely," this person said. "But there was no crying."
sorry if you feel bad
