Kim's 'youtuber children' (and the defectors who fight 'soft propaganda')
He wears a school uniform and speaks in a distinct British accent. He enjoys indulging in ice cream, is an avid fan of Harry Potter, and takes great pride in calling Pyongyang his hometown. Presenting herself as Song-a, a cheerful 11-year-old North Korean girl, she captivates her audience on YouTube by showcasing the wonders of the North Korean capital. In his eager manner, he spills out a plethora of information about Pyongyang with seemingly no end, describing it as a paradise brimming with amusement parks, an abundance of food, and after-school activities like swimming, rock climbing, and 4D animated movies for all the girls.
Song-a launched her YouTube channel in the spring of 2022, quickly amassing over 30,000 subscribers. However, their videos faced censorship in South Korea during the summer, along with two other North Korean YouTuber channels propagating the benefits of Kim Jong-un’s regime. Such dissemination of “white propaganda,” as it is commonly referred to by analysts, is prevalent across numerous platforms.
The North Korean propaganda machine has long been associated with an inexhaustible supply of belligerent rhetoric from its leader. Kim’s mouthpieces frequently utter phrases like “We are prepared for an unrelenting war,” “Deranged American Madman,” “We will not hesitate to strike them,” “Damn Japanese imperialists,” and “We must annihilate them.” North Korean speakers continue to churn out these expressions almost daily.
In recent years, however, North Korea has adapted and adopted strategies from neighboring countries like Russia and China to convey subtler messages through friendly YouTubers like Song-a. What the young girl fails to reveal in her videos is that ordinary North Koreans are unable to upload videos to Western social networks due to restricted internet access or censorship blocking their browsers. Colin Zwirko, an analyst at NK News, a portal focusing on monitoring North Korea through satellite images, insider testimonies, and defector experiences, points out that “Song-a portrays herself as an average student who was taught English by her mother at home. However, she originates from one of the most influential families in the country, with her father being a career diplomat based in London and her great-grandfather being a revered general from the Korean War.”
Many of these defectors-turned-influencers aim to counteract North Korean propaganda by exposing the atrocities committed by the Kim regime. Others seek to provide insights into the hermetic country’s culture and customs. Kang Na-ra, with over 370,000 subscribers on YouTube, sheds light on the disparities between North and South Korea, revealing that “having large breasts is considered negative in North Korea.” She candidly admits, “One of the biggest surprises I encountered upon arriving in Seoul was discovering padded bras and breast implants.”
Another prominent influencer, Yeonmi Park, frequently appears on podcasts in the US to recount the traumatic experiences of her childhood during the devastating famine and the execution of her father, a black market metals trader, while in prison. Park claims that she, along with her mother, managed to escape North Korea at the age of 13 with the help of a group of Christian missionaries.
Among the defectors who bravely face the camera, stories like Park’s abound. The more outrageous and harrowing the accounts, the larger their following becomes. However, experts caution that some of these YouTubers may be embellishing their experiences in North Korea.