I just escaped from NORTH KOREA!?

 

      Finally, writing a blog after a very long time. Its Christmas & New Year week, so I wish y'all a very very happy Christmas and a New year! 

    I recently completed reading George Orwell's 1984, a political-satirical novel set in Oceania (one of the inter-continental superstates, the other two being Eastasia and Eurasia) that emerged after a global war. This dystopian novel presents a future world—particularly Oceania—in the year 1984. Although the book was published in 1949, from the author’s perspective this was a fictional dystopia, layered with satire on the modern world of the late twentieth century.

Post the global war, Oceania is ruled by a political group simply known as The Party. Apart from the inner and outer members of the Party, everyone else are proles, who live in poverty and fear and are mostly ignored. People live under constant surveillance, are forced to conform to strict rules, and must pledge complete loyalty to Big Brother, the symbolic head of the Party.

We are shown the world of Oceania through the eyes of Winston Smith, the protagonist, an outer member of the Party who works in the Ministry of Truth. The Party controls not only the present but also the past. It erases existing history and re-modifies facts, historical places, personalities, and literature according to its convenience. By changing the past, the original past ceases to exist. Along with this, the Party controls people’s thoughts through its own language called Newspeak (OldSpeak being normal English). Newspeak is divided into three vocabularies—A, B, and C. The A vocabulary consists of words for everyday use, B vocabulary is deliberately constructed for political purposes, and C vocabulary includes scientific and technical terms. Control over thought becomes easy when freedom of language is restricted. For example, there is no word for “hate” in Newspeak; instead, “unlove” is used. The use of “un-” as a prefix becomes a tool to erase complex emotions and ideas. This mental suffocation allows the Party to retain power, even against rebellion.

Even thoughts are monitored through telescreens, and violations result in torture and disappearance. Those who disappear are erased not only from life but from memory, neighbourhoods, and history itself. Ironically, Winston, a rebel against the Party, works in the very Ministry of Truth that rewrites history for the Party’s convenience.

The dystopian world is marked by the Party’s slogans written on every wall, beneath the image of Big Brother:

WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

Posters declaring “BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU” appear everywhere, in both public and private spaces. Winston’s memories of his mother and sister are faint and incomplete, and his marriage exists only as a distant recollection. The Party is against emotions, desire, and personal attachments, ruling instead through fear and obedience. Despite this, Winston begins a secret love affair with Julia, a young woman he meets through his work. The story moves into the idea of rebellion through The Brotherhood, an underground resistance led by Goldstein. Winston and Julia, with the help of O’Brien—an inner Party member—believe they are part of this movement. This leaves one final question that the novel quietly forces upon the reader: Did Winston get a happy ending, or did he at all? 

    More than just a story, 1984 taught me about political structures in the real world, and this is where the most shocking realization began. This is not a work of fiction, it is 100% REAL!!

    North Korea is an extreme totalitarian state ruled by the Kim family, where the government controls information, movement, speech, education, technology, and even language. Surveillance is constant, and punishment is severe, often extending not just to individuals but to their families as well. Much like Oceania, fear is the foundation of control.

Education exists, but it is deeply embedded with propaganda. Subjects like math and science are taught only to maintain the system, not to encourage innovation or independent thinking. Technology is not used for freedom or connection; instead, phones and internal networks function as tools for surveillance and monitoring. This felt eerily similar to telescreens and the Ministry of Truth.

One question that often comes up is why people don’t revolt. The answer is disturbingly simple. Most citizens do not know that the outside world is better. Fear of punishment—prison camps, torture, and public executions—is overwhelming. Isolation prevents collective organization, and hunger, exhaustion, and survival leave no energy for rebellion. Ignorance, once again, becomes strength for the regime.

There is also a clear divide between elites and ordinary citizens. A small elite in Pyongyang lives relatively better, with access to food, electricity, and privileges, while the majority struggle with scarcity, poor healthcare, and unreliable utilities. The elites often know the truth but remain loyal because they benefit from the system and fear punishment—very similar to the Inner Party in 1984.

Those who are exposed to the outside world—soldiers, diplomats, or workers sent abroad—are carefully selected and monitored. Their families remain behind as hostages, ensuring silence. Speaking the truth would mean death or imprisonment, effectively stopping information from spreading within the country.

Thousands have escaped North Korea over the decades, often through China and Southeast Asia. Escape is extremely dangerous, and being caught leads to severe punishment. Many women face trafficking, and even children attempt escape alone. The human suffering behind these stories is overwhelming, and reading about them while reading 1984 left me emotionally shaken and deeply disturbed.

At this point, it became clear to me that 1984 is not just fiction. Big Brother resembles the Kim family. Thought Police resemble secret police. Newspeak mirrors language control. Telescreens resemble surveillance technology. The Ministry of Truth mirrors propaganda systems. North Korea stands as the closest real-world example of Orwell’s warning.

    The experience of reading both simultaneously was mentally exhausting and emotionally heavy. The shock and discomfort I felt were not just reactions to a book, but to the realization that such a world already exists. Orwell did not predict the future—he warned us about it.

In the end, 1984 is not just a novel to be read and forgotten. It is a reminder of how fragile freedom is, how dangerous unchecked power can be, and how reality can sometimes be far more disturbing than fiction.

As I reached the end of this journey—moving from Orwell’s dystopian fiction to the harsh realities of North Korea—I was left not with answers, but with hope. Hope that truth finds its way through silence, that information breaks through isolation, and that the people living under such conditions are not forgotten by the world. My wishes and prayers are with the people of North Korea, whose lives reflect a reality no one should have to endure. Until freedom becomes more than a distant idea for them, all we can do is remember, speak, and care. Until then, take care.

With love

ΛV