North and South Korea are in an underground war - Kim Jong Un might now be winning

17 minutes ago Share Save Jean Mackenzie Seoul correspondent Share Save

BBC

Listen to Jean read this article The border between North and South Korea is swamped with layers of dense barbed-wire fencing and hundreds of guard posts. But dotted among them is something even more unusual: giant, green camouflaged speakers. As I stood looking into the North one afternoon last month, one of the speakers began blasting South Korean pop songs interspersed with subversive messages. "When we travel abroad, it energises us", a woman's voice boomed out across the border - an obvious slight given North Koreans are not allowed to leave the country. From the North Korean side, I could faintly hear military propaganda music, as its regime attempted to drown out the inflammatory broadcasts. North and South Korea are technically still at war, and although it has been years since either side shelled the other, the two sides are fighting on a more subtle front: a war of information.

Getty Images The border is covered with layers of dense barbed-wire fencing and guards patrol the area

The South tries to get information into the North, and North Korea's leader Kim Jong Un tries furiously to block it, as he attempts to shield his people from outside information. North Korea is the only country in the world the internet has not penetrated. All TV channels, radio stations and newspapers are run by the state. "The reason for this control is that so much of the mythology around the Kim family is made up. A lot of what they tell people is lies," says Martyn Williams, a senior fellow at the Washington-based Stimson Center, and an expert in North Korean technology and information.

Expose those lies to enough people and the regime could come crumbling down, is how the thinking in South Korea goes. The loudspeakers are one tool used by the South Korean government, but behind the scenes a more sophisticated underground movement has flourished. A small number of broadcasters and non-profit organisations transmit information into the country in the dead of night on short and medium radio waves, so North Koreans can tune in to listen in secret.

Getty Images USB sticks loaded with foreign TV dramas and K-pop music are smuggled into North Korea (pictured K-pop boyband BTS)

Thousands of USB sticks and micro-SD cards are also smuggled over the border every month loaded with foreign information - among them, South Korean films, TV dramas, and pop songs, as well as news, all designed to challenge North Korean propaganda. But now those working in the field fear that North Korea is gaining the upper hand. Not only is Kim cracking down hard on those caught with foreign content, but the future of this work could be in jeopardy. Much of it is funded by the US government, and has been hit by US President Donald Trump's recent aid cuts. So where does this leave both sides in their longstanding information war?

Smuggling pop songs and TV dramas

Every month, a team at Unification Media Group (UMG), a South Korean non-profit organisation, sift through the latest news and entertainment offerings to put together playlists that they hope will resonate with those in the North. They then load them onto devices, which are categorised according to how risky they are to view. On low-risk USBs are South Korean TV dramas and pop songs - recently they included a Netflix romance series When Life Give You Tangerines, and a hit from popular South Korean singer and rapper Jennie. High-risk options include what the team calls "education programmes" – information to teach North Koreans about democracy and human rights, the content Kim is thought to fear the most. The drives are then sent to the Chinese border, where UMG's trusted partners carry them across the river into North Korea at huge risk.

AFP via Getty Images Information on low-risk USBs recently included a hit from popular South Korean singer and rapper Jennie

South Korean TV dramas may seem innocuous, but they reveal much about ordinary life there - people living in high-rise apartments, driving fast cars and eating at upmarket restaurants. It highlights both their freedom and how North Korea is many years behind. This challenges one of Kim's biggest fabrications: that those in the South are poor and miserably oppressed. "Some [people] tell us they cried while watching these dramas, and that they made them think about their own dreams for the very first time", says Lee Kwang-baek, director of UMG. It is difficult to know exactly how many people access the USBs, but testimonies from recent defectors seem to suggest the information is spreading and having an impact. "Most recent North Korean defectors and refugees say it was foreign content that motivated them to risk their lives to escape", says Sokeel Park, whose organisation Liberty in North Korea works to distribute this content. There is no political opposition or known dissidents in North Korea, and gathering to protest is too dangerous – but Mr Park hopes some will be inspired to carry out individual acts of resistance.

An escape from North Korea

Kang Gyuri, who is 24, grew up in North Korea, where she ran a fishing business. Then in late 2023, she fled to South Korea by boat. Watching foreign TV shows partly inspired her to go, she says. "I felt so suffocated, and I suddenly had an urge to leave." When we met in a park on a sunny afternoon in Seoul last month, she reminisced about listening to radio broadcasts with her mum as a child. She got hold of her first K-drama when she was 10. Years later she learnt that USB sticks and SD cards were being smuggled into the country inside boxes of fruit. The more she watched, the more she realised the government was lying to her. "I used to think it was normal that the state restricted us so much. I thought other countries lived with this control," she explains. "But then I realised it was only in North Korea."

Kang Gyuri fled to South Korea by boat in late 2023

Almost everyone she knew there watched South Korean TV shows and films. She and her friends would swap their USBs. "We talked about the popular dramas and actors, and the K-pop idols we thought were good looking, like certain members of BTS. "We'd also talk about how South Korea's economy was so developed; we just couldn't criticise the North Korean regime outright." The shows also influenced how she and her friends talked and dressed, she adds. "North Korea's youth has changed rapidly."

Youth crackdown squads and punishments

Kim Jong Un, all too aware of this risk to his regime, is fighting back. During the pandemic, he built new electric fences along the border with China, making it more difficult for information to be smuggled in. And new laws introduced from 2020 have increased the punishments for people who are caught consuming and sharing foreign media. One stated that those who distribute the content could be imprisoned or executed. This has had a chilling effect. "This media used to be available to buy in markets, people would openly sell it, but now you can only get it from people you trust," says Mr Lee. After the crackdown began Ms Kang and her friends became more cautious too. "We don't talk to each other about this anymore, unless we're really close, and even then we're much more secretive," she admits. She says she is aware of more young people being executed for being caught with South Korean content.

AFP via Getty Images The effects of some of President Trump of policies may have inadvertently given North Korea a helping hand in the information war, according to some

Recently Kim has also cracked down on behaviour that could be associated with watching K-dramas. In 2023 he made it a crime for people to use South Korean phrases or speak in a South Korean accent. Members of 'youth crackdown squads', patrol the streets, tasked with monitoring young people's behaviour. Ms Kang recalls being stopped more often, before she escaped, and reprimanded for dressing and styling her hair like a South Korean. The squads would confiscate her phone and read her text messages, she adds, to make sure she had not used any South Korean terms.

Inside a phone smuggled out of North Korea

In late 2024, a North Korean mobile phone was smuggled out of the country by Daily NK, (Seoul-based media organisation UMG's news service). The phone had been programmed so that when a South Korean variant of a word is entered, it automatically vanishes, replaced with the North Korean equivalent - an Orwellian move. "Smartphones are now part and parcel of the way North Korea tries to indoctrinate people", says Mr Williams. Following all these crackdown measures, he believes North Korea is now "starting to gain the upper hand" in this information war.

Funding cuts and the Trump effect

Following Donald Trump's return to the White House earlier this year, funds were severed to a number of of aid organisations, including some working to inform North Koreans. He also suspended funds to two federally financed news services, Radio Free Asia and Voice of America (VOA), which had been broadcasting nightly into North Korea. Trump accused VOA of being "radical" and anti-Trump", while the White House said the move would "ensure taxpayers are no longer on the hook for radical propaganda". But Steve Herman, a former VOA bureau chief based in Seoul, argues: "This was one of the very few windows into the world the North Korean people had, and it has gone silent with no explanation."

UMG is still waiting to find out whether their funding will be permanently cut. Mr Park from Liberty in North Korea argues Trump has "incidentally" given Kim a helping hand, and calls the move "short-sighted". He argues that North Korea, with its expanding collection of nuclear weapons, poses a major security threat - and that given sanctions, diplomacy and military pressure have failed to convince Kim to denuclearise, information is the best remaining weapon. "We're not just trying to contain the threat of North Korea, we're trying to solve it," he argues. "To do that you need to change the nature of the country. "If I was an American general I'd be saying 'how much does this stuff cost, and actually that's a pretty good use of our resources'".

Who should foot the bill?

The question that remains is, who should fund this work. Some question why it has fallen almost entirely to the US. One solution could be for South Korea to foot the bill - but the issue of North Korea is heavily politicised here. The liberal opposition party tends to try to improve relations with Pyongyang, meaning funding information warfare is a no go. The party's frontrunner in next week's presidential election has already indicated he would turn off the loudspeakers if elected. Yet Mr Park remains hopeful. "The good thing is that the North Korean government can't go into people's heads and take out the information that's been building for years," he points out. And as technologies develop, he is confident that spreading information will get easier. "In the long run I really believe this is going to be the thing that changes North Korea". Top image credit: Getty

Rugby league anger at no knighthoods in 130 years

17 minutes ago Share Save Sean Coughlan Royal correspondent Share Save

PA Media Rugby league authorities and supporters want to tackle any snobbery over honours

Rugby league authorities say their players have been "poorly treated" by the honours system, as pressure grows for a first knighthood or damehood for the sport. The sport has gone 130 years without such an honour. "It is surprising and disappointing that the relevant authorities have still not deemed anyone worthy of a knighthood or damehood for their services to rugby league," said a spokesperson for the Rugby Football League, which governs the sport. The Speaker of the House of Commons, Sir Lindsay Hoyle, added his voice, telling BBC News the lack of rugby league knighthoods "cannot be right" when other sports, including rugby union, have had such honours "quite regularly".

The leader of a cross-party group of MPs who support rugby league has suggested the "scandal" of the lack of top honours for stars of the sport was linked to snobbery and class prejudice. "This, I suspect, is because they come from working class backgrounds, didn't go to the right schools, and didn't mix in the right social circles," said David Baines, chair of the all-party Parliamentary rugby league group. "Well enough is enough. It's 2025, and myself and other MPs are clear it's time for things to change." Sir Lindsay Hoyle, who is a former president of the Rugby Football League, said: "Rugby league has a long and proud history and is littered with examples of players who have excelled in the sport and inspired future generations to play the game." He says there is something wrong when the sport "cannot boast one single player, over its 130-year history, who has received a knighthood". "I want to see rugby league given the recognition it deserves and hope this will be addressed in the near future," said the Speaker. In contrast, rugby union, often seen as having more middle class roots, has been getting knighthoods for more than 100 years. Among more recent rugby knights was Sir Bill Beaumont, awarded "for services to rugby union football" in 2018. There have been many other sporting knighthoods and damehoods, including in athletics, yachting, football, golf, tennis, horse racing, cycling and rowing.

PA Media Rugby league's Kevin Sinfield has raised millions of pounds for charity

School leavers party for weeks on midnight buses, and Norway says it's gone too far

48 minutes ago Share Save Alex Maxia BBC News, Oslo Share Save

Shutterstock Norweigen school-leavers partying in red overalls is a sight often seen on Norway's national day on 17 May

After 13 years of school, Selma Jenvin-Steinsvag and her classmate Aksel were running to catch the Oslo metro in red overalls. "After that all our written exams will be done," said Selma, 18. The sight of school-leavers, known here as russe, walking around in colourful overalls is something of a coming-of-age tradition that brightens up the weeks before Norway's national day on 17 May. That marks the day the russe can finally relax after their exams and have one final party. But for increasing numbers of young Norwegians, the parties have been starting weeks earlier, well before their exams have finished.

Selma and Axel are two of this year's russe

And there is one side to the celebrations that has increasingly alarmed parents and politicians alike - the russebuss. "It's a party bus! We go out every night for a month, we get drunk, we're partying with our friends and it's just fun!" says 19-year-old Edvard Aanestad, who is finishing school on the west side of Oslo. The fear is that all the weeks of partying as well as the peer pressure involved are having a detrimental effect on teenagers' overall wellbeing, as well as their grades. A small fortune is often spent renting the buses and decking them out and many school-leavers go into debt to pay for it all. "A russebuss drives all night from around midnight until early morning. We play really, really loud music and party all night," says Edvard's friend, Henrik Wathne, who's 18. Alongside all the fun, there have been complaints that the celebrations result in heavy drinking, drug use and little sleep. There are also concerns that many teenagers feel left out because they cannot afford the cost. And all of it currently coincides with the exam period.

Alamy Norwegian teenagers spend their last weeks of school in overalls before they graduate

Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Store said last year that he too had enjoyed his graduation, but the party bus culture had spun out of control. His intervention followed years of public debate, with objections from authorities as well as many of the school-leavers and their parents. "We are worried about some negative trends in our schools and neighbourhoods, and within Norwegian youth culture in general," says Solveig Haukenes Aase, whose eldest child is graduating this year. Her two younger children are yet to start high school and she complains that the culture affects younger teenagers too: "In recent years, it has also started to have an impact on middle school kids." Together with other parents she formed a group aimed at making the environment for young people safer. "The attitude of school authorities previously was that it's a private matter, that the russe celebration is something that happens in your spare time," she told the BBC. "But there has been a change in mentality among teachers, principals and school authorities, and it's now widely acknowledged that the new russe culture has a huge impact on the school environment."

Norway's party buses for school-leavers have become a trend that worries schools and parents alike

Norway's minister of education, Kari Nessa Nordtun, said it had been "a problem for many years that the celebrations and the exam period have been intertwined". She told the BBC that school-leavers had experienced difficulties in concentrating on exams because of the partying and that results had declined because of it. "The celebration has also become highly commercialised and exclusionary, and we see that these negative effects are spreading all the way down to lower secondary school. "We want to put an end to social exclusion, peer pressure and high costs for many young people. We are now working to create a new and more inclusive graduation celebration." The plan now is to ensure that from next year celebrations are moved to the post-exam period. The party bus tradition dates back to Oslo in the early 1980s and tends to be more prevalent among some of the more elite schools. But it has now become national in scale and Ivar Brandvol, who has written about the tradition, believes the whole point of the bus has now changed, so that the bus celebrations no longer involve the whole school class but a more select group instead. "Another change is the amount of money you need to be a part of a bus-group. Some of the bus-groups will have a budget up to 3m krone (£220,000) even if they choose to just rent it," he says. "Sound-systems are shipped from all over Europe. To pay the bills, the groups will often sell toilet paper to friends, family and neighbours for a little profit. But the kids have to sell tons of toilet paper to earn enough, and usually end up using savings and getting into debt."

Edvard (L) and Henrik have saved up for years for their party bus (shirt partly blurred to obscure offensive word)