North Korea: Where Soccer, Politics, and the Unknown Collide

Without any notable games or story lines apart from the very tired John Terry-Wayne Bridge saga, there hasn't exactly been a lot to write about when it comes to the international game beyond the USMNT.  As a result, the last couple of weeks have featured almost exclusively USMNT content around these parts.  But in the spirit of what I want this site to be (that is, a source for news and analysis of the USMNT and the international game as a whole), I'll dedicate this next post to something other than Bob Bradley's squad.

Instead, I'm going to put the spotlight on a place that otherwise doesn't get too much attention when it comes to international football.  Maybe it's because their national team isn't exactly a world power.  Maybe it's because information on a lot of the players beyond name, date of birth, caps, and goals is essentially non-existent outside of their borders (and very well could even be non-existent there, in a land of information control and manipulation).  Maybe it's just because there is a negative connotation with all things relating to their equally delusional and frightening "Dear Leader".  Whatever the reason, the North Korea national team does not get much attention in the grand scheme of things.

That will probably change this June, when Kim Jong-Hun's side take to the fields of South Africa in their first World Cup since their only other appearance some 44 years ago.  But this focus will likely be nothing more than a fleeting glance at what will surely be a three-and-out for "Cholima" (the nickname of the North Korea national team; a mythical horse).  Were the USMNT to end up in the same group as North Korea, there would have been a much bigger microscope on the otherwise almost entirely anonymous participants, as a politically charged affair not unlike the one that took place at France '98 between the US and Iran surely would have ensued.  With this essentially an impossibility, barring the most miraculous Cinderella run in World Cup history (and for you American cynics out there, I'm not referring to Bob Bradley and company), North Korea will most likely fade back into obscurity within days of their exit from the tournament.  But what goes undetected is a pretty interesting and, at times, bizarre situation for a national team that toes the line of political interference and is not afraid of courting a little controversy.

In this age of globalization and technology, there are still a few untouched nooks of civilization that, for assorted reasons, are cut off from the rest of the world.  But rarely do entire nations fit such a description.  North Korea, with its isolationist tactics and frequently antagonistic practices, remains a large white spot on a world map otherwise teeming with highways, railroads, parks, and cities.  If you don't believe me, swing over to Google Maps sometime and see for yourself; nestled between the bustling boulevards of Seoul and Shenyang appears to be absolutely nothing.  Outside of maybe a few high ranking intelligence officers, we don't know exactly what exists between China and South Korea.  Even worse, the average North Korean probably has little idea of what the country's true situation is either.

This veiling and secrecy, unfortunately, will carry over to soccer, as Kim Jong-il has banned television coverage of the tournament in his country unless by some incredible stroke of luck his team emerges as champions of the 2010 World Cup.  Only highlight packages that are heavily edited to make North Korea appear to be the superior team will be aired, which could end up being only seconds long given the caliber of opponent they will be facing in each of their group stage matches.  As a result of this, the average North Korean will be lucky to get only a very skewed glimpse of the world's most glorious sporting spectacle.  Another tough break in what must already be, at the risk of sounding ethnocentric, a dreary existence.  You'd think Kim Jong-il would favor exposing his people to the high level of competition and talent that is on display at the World Cup, particularly since he is quite the accomplished sportsman in his own right. 

Of the 33 players currently in their national team player pool, only six ply their trade outside of the DPR Korea League.  Three play in Japan, and one plays in China, with only two players from the national team playing in Europe (one in Russia, the other in Switzerland).  While it appears odd at first glance, it's pretty understandable considering the tight controls over the movement of people across the North Korean borders.  What struck me as interesting about this team, however, was that a few of the players are, by birth, not Korean, but instead Japanese.  In a nation where so much emphasis (by the state, granted; though what the state does essentially amounts to what every other functioning body from the country does) is placed on self-sufficiency and where a fierce national pride is expressed in scores of public displays and speeches, it seems odd that the national team would rely on a few foreign born players.  Though these Zainichi Koreans (Koreans born in Japan) are technically Korean in terms of ethnicity, they could be viewed as nothing more than foreign mercenaries brought in to bolster an otherwise weak squad.  I guess I just didn't expect that type of tactic from a nation that so often shuts the rest of the world out and professes its self-reliance.

As it stands now, North Korea is the lowest ranked nation taking part in this summer's World Cup (85th in the latest FIFA rankings).  Despite their relatively weak team, they managed to draw rivals South Korea in three of four very tense affairs.  Two of these matches were lightning rods of controversy, as both North Korea home games were played in Shanghai, China because of the hosts' refusal to hang the South Korean flag or play the South Korean anthem.  this is just another example of when the line between politics and soccer becomes very blurry in North Korea.  In this age of harsh penalties for government interference in soccer matters (look no further than Togo's recent dilemma with the CAF for pulling out of the 2010 Africa Cup of Nations), it's a wonder that North Korea has managed to avoid a ban from international competition that other nations have been dealt.  Maybe FIFA just realizes that any effort to prove government participation would be pretty futile in such an enigmatic nation where every bit of information is malleable.

There is the rare occasion, though, when North Korea can make a splash on the international scene outside of politically fueled controversy, however brief it may be.  Take for instance the rumors linking former England and Mexico boss Sven Goran Eriksson to the head coaching position in Pyongyang.  While this little juicy tidbit has yet to prove to be nothing more than speculation, it does make me wish that Eriksson would take the job, just so we could get all of the details when he decided to move on.  North Korea is a very mysterious place, and its national team is still a pretty big mystery to soccer fans across the globe.  A tell-all from someone like Eriksson might reveal to us a world of pressure, grossly misguided expectations, and severe repercussions.  Or, it might reveal to us that the national team is an Eden-like respite for the players involved; a meal-ticket in a country where so many go hungry.  Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like that sort of information will be released anytime soon, but I do long for the day when some light will be shed on at least this small part of South Korea's nebulous neighbors to the north.

When it comes to this summer's World Cup, I find myself oddly pulling for the North Koreans.  As much as I dislike the idea of anything inflating the ego of a tyrannical dictator even further, I can't help but think that there might be some good that could come out of a surprise result for Cholima.  Maybe it would just be a modest reward for the players upon their return, or maybe it would be nothing more than putting a smile on the face of a hard-working citizen toiling away for the state.

Ultimately, though, like everything else with North Korea, we'd never really know.

----