Jordan Schneider's latest piece for ChinaTalk dismantles the standard geopolitical playbook for understanding North Korea, arguing that the regime is not merely a Stalinist holdover but a unique theocracy forged in the fires of 19th-century American Protestantism. By reframing the Kim dynasty through the lens of religious revivalism rather than pure ideology, the article offers a startling explanation for the regime's endurance: it is a state religion that has outlasted the Soviet Union by three decades. This is not a story about nuclear brinkmanship, but about how a specific brand of American evangelical fervor was weaponized to create a messiah complex that still defines the Hermit Kingdom today.
The Unlikely Theology of the Hermit Kingdom
The article's most provocative move is linking the current leadership to the legacy of American missionaries. Schneider introduces the conversation by highlighting a bizarre historical convergence: the 1992 visit of Billy Graham to Pyongyang. As Schneider writes, "Billy Graham is arguably the world's most famous preacher... but North Korea was a tougher nut to crack." The significance of this meeting lies not in diplomacy, but in the shared cultural DNA between the American evangelist and the North Korean dictator. Schneider notes that Graham remarked upon seeing Kim Il-sung's birthplace, "All they're missing here are the three wise men and the manger," instantly recognizing the nativity parallels the state was constructing.
This observation is not merely anecdotal; it is the key to the entire argument. Schneider posits that the regime's legitimacy relies on a theological framework that predates Marxism. The article suggests that Kim Il-sung didn't just adopt communist rhetoric; he cannibalized the structure of Presbyterian worship to build a cult of personality. "Kim Il-sung saw Graham as someone with access to the very top levels of American leadership," Schneider explains, noting that the dictator was keenly aware of Graham's role as "America's pastor." This reframing forces the reader to see the North Korean state not as a rational actor in a nuclear standoff, but as a religious society where the leader is the literal embodiment of the divine.
From the "Jerusalem of the East" to Totalitarianism
To understand how a communist state could harbor such religious fervor, Schneider traces the lineage back to Samuel Moffett, a 22-year-old American missionary who arrived in Korea in 1890. The narrative shift here is crucial: the article moves away from the cold logic of Cold War geopolitics to the chaotic, high-stakes world of 19th-century missionary work. Schneider describes Moffett as a man driven by an "eschatology that believed spreading the gospel to every last person on the planet would actually hasten the second coming of Jesus."
The transformation of Pyongyang under Moffett's influence is the piece's historical anchor. Once a city known for its "belligerent residents" and "deadly sport" of stone-throwing, Pyongyang became the "Jerusalem of the East." Schneider paints a vivid picture of this era: "By 1927, we have a quote that Pyongyang has a Chevrolet dealership, three-story Western houses, massive churches towering over straw huts, jazz clubs, and factories churning out socks and rubber products." This rapid modernization and spiritual explosion created a fertile ground for a new kind of leadership. The irony, as Schneider points out, is that the very institutions built by missionaries—schools, colleges, and churches—became the incubators for the Kim dynasty's ideology. Kim Il-sung himself attended one of these missionary schools, absorbing the "founder energy" of the era.
Pyongyang became known as the "Jerusalem of the East," a beacon of Christian piety that would eventually be repurposed into the world's most intense totalitarian theocracy.
The article argues that the "Manchurian cauldron" of the 1920s blended this Christian nationalism with Marxism, creating a unique political technology. Schneider suggests that the regime's ability to maintain control is a direct result of this synthesis. "Christianity as political technology," he writes, "how Kim weaponized Protestant doctrine and ritual to build a state religion that has outlasted the Soviet Union by three decades." This is a powerful reframing. It suggests that the regime's resilience is not due to superior military strategy or economic planning, but because it successfully replaced the vacuum left by the collapse of communism with a deeply entrenched religious narrative. Critics might note that this focus on religious roots risks oversimplifying the brutal coercive apparatus of the state, which relies heavily on fear and surveillance, not just faith. However, the argument holds that without the religious underpinning, the state would have crumbled decades ago.
The Legacy of a Failed Dynasty
The piece concludes by connecting these historical threads to the present, arguing that the North Korean state is best understood as a religious society rather than a nation-state. Schneider draws parallels between Kim Il-sung and other historical figures who claimed divine status, noting that the regime's structure mirrors that of a cult. "Jim Jones and Kim," Schneider writes, "how the Jonestown cult leader became obsessed with Kim Il-sung, adopted Korean children, and traded tips with North Korean diplomats on running a closed religious society." This comparison underscores the extreme isolation and the totalizing nature of the regime's control.
The article also touches on the broader implications for foreign policy. If North Korea is a theocracy, then traditional diplomatic leverage may be ineffective. The administration's attempts to engage with Pyongyang often fail because they treat the regime as a rational actor seeking economic gain, rather than a religious entity seeking spiritual validation. Schneider's analysis suggests that understanding the "messiah complex" of the Kim dynasty is essential for any meaningful engagement. "Why is North Korea so weird?" Schneider asks. "No, argues Jonathan Cheng... You've all been sleeping on the influence of 19th-century American revival Protestantism."
Bottom Line
Schneider's argument is a masterclass in historical reframing, successfully challenging the conventional wisdom that North Korea is simply a rogue communist state. The strongest part of the piece is its detailed reconstruction of the "Jerusalem of the East" era, which provides a compelling explanation for the regime's unique blend of nationalism and religious fervor. However, the argument's biggest vulnerability is its potential to downplay the role of external geopolitical pressures and the sheer brutality of the regime's security apparatus. Readers should watch for how this religious framing influences future diplomatic strategies, as the administration may need to rethink its approach if the core of the North Korean state is indeed a faith-based cult rather than a traditional government.