Asked when he wrote his best legal opinions, former U.S. Supreme Court Justice Robert H. Jackson answered: “On the way home from the courthouse, after I’ve turned in the opinion to be printed.”
I was reminded of that after moderating the Voices from North Korea Talk Concert during the ROK’s Ministry of Unification’s Journey for Liberty festival in Harvard Square on Sept. 28. As I was returning to South Korea, I realized our event coincided with the end of Banned Books Week and that we could have drawn more attention to North Korean refugee authors while reminding people what true totalitarianism is like.
In the U.S. and other democratic societies, Banned Books Week has become a celebration of free expression. Launched by the American Library Association (ALA) in 1982, the week raises awareness of censorship and has since spread to countries like Sweden, Canada, and Britain. Through public readings, discussions, and social media campaigns, it promotes the freedom to read.
Banning books in the West often makes them more popular. Books like “To Kill a Mockingbird” and “Harry Potter” have been banned for various reasons, often resulting in curiosity and stimulating defenders of forbidden books. In this context, banned books can be chic, a badge of rebelliousness or intellectual defiance. I have seen some authors openly call for their books to be banned and added to banned book lists.
For many Western authors, having a book banned can even be a marketing boost. Lists of banned books are shared widely, and authors often gain notoriety. In these cases, the act of banning can help books gain attention among millions of books published every year. With platforms like Amazon, which did not exist when Banned Books Week was launched, banned books typically aren’t harmed when a local library or school blocks them.
The situation is radically different in authoritarian countries. In places like North Korea, China, Iran, and Saudi Arabia, censorship is not just about banning books — it’s about silencing voices and repressing dissent.
Raif Badawi in Saudi Arabia was sentenced to 10 years in prison, 1,000 lashes for his writings, banned from leaving the country after he was released in 2022, and his wife fled the country years ago. Liao Yiwu in China, a poet and writer who was imprisoned for his works criticizing the Chinese regime, was tortured before he fled to Germany.
Perhaps the most well-known example is Salman Rushdie, who has lived under the threat of death since the 1989 Iranian fatwa issued over his book “The Satanic Verses.” The book was deemed blasphemous by some Islamic groups, leading to calls for Rushdie’s execution. Rushdie was forced into hiding for years.
In authoritarian regimes, banning books also means banning authors with the threat of imprisonment, torture, and execution, not just challenges at school boards or libraries. Authors who dare to speak out do so knowing that the consequences may be dire.
For North Korean refugee authors, the stakes are particularly high. They risk not only their own lives but also the lives of their families still trapped in North Korea. The North Korean regime enforces a policy of guilt by association, which means that relatives can be imprisoned, tortured, or executed for the actions of a single family member. This makes the act of writing and speaking out even more dangerous.
At the Voices from North Korea Talk Concert, I moderated a discussion featuring two refugee authors: Han Song-mi, co-author with me of “Greenlight to Freedom,” and Eom Yeong-nam, author of “Strongest Soldier of North Korea.” When they were in North Korea, they were silent along with other North Koreans. In freedom, they are among about 30 North Korean refugees who have published books in English (four have been published by my organization, Freedom Speakers International).
Song-mi’s book tells the story of her search for her mother and her harrowing escape from North Korea, while Yeong-nam’s memoir recounts his time in the North Korean military and his eventual defection. Both of these authors would face execution if they ever returned to North Korea, simply for telling their stories.
Pointing out the risks to these authors is not to criticize Banned Books Week, which is worth celebrating. It is to make the point that there are authors who write and publish their stories and thoughts despite real risks to their personal safety. I missed Banned Books Week 2024 because of my own projects, but in 2025, I will amplify the voices of North Korean refugees. If you would like to join me, then contact me at the email below or find me on Patreon.
Casey Lartigue Jr. ([email protected]) is the co-founder of Freedom Speakers International with Lee Eun-koo and co-author with Han Song-mi of her memoir “Greenlight to Freedom: A North Korean Daughter’s Search for Her Mother and Herself.”
This post was originally published on here
