Kim Jong Un reappears and the death hoax falls apart

Kim Jong Un reappears and the death hoax falls apart

The whole scene has something farcical about it: a man who was given up for dead on October 19 turns up days later opening a Light Industry exhibition, and the news comes not from an intelligence service or an outlet with a correspondent in Pyongyang, but from a Western enthusiast celebrating the Marshal's «resurrection». The hoax about Kim Jong Un's death spread fast and unravelled just as quickly, leaving behind a trail of tweets, photos and comparisons that, along the way, say a great deal about how information around the world's most hermetic regime gets built.

The first problem is one of dates. The message that kicks off the controversy places the supposed death and the subsequent reappearance just hours apart, with a visit to a Light Industry exhibition as proof of life. The timeline is so tight that it invites suspicion: either the hoax was extremely short-lived, or someone is rewriting the calendar. Some dismiss the story outright for lacking credibility from minute one, while others instead stare at the photographs looking for the catch.

The photos, the cigar and the body-double theory

The second layer of the story is visual. The images of the leader smoking are compared with others from different dates, and details that don't add up are pointed out: the clothes, the expression, the cigar. The body-double theory gains ground as soon as attention turns to the Inminbok, the people's suit, which the Marshal had not worn for a long time and suddenly brings back. For some, that detail is proof that something doesn't fit; for others, it's a simple wardrobe coincidence.

The cigar is the great unwitting protagonist. A leader smoking at an official exhibition, with advisers taking notes around him, is an image that lends itself to all kinds of readings. There is debate over whether the tobacco is a sign of normality or a false lead, and smoking habits in Korea are compared with those of Spain and China to debunk clichés. The result of the data comparison is uncomfortable: Koreans smoke less than the stereotype suggests.

The notebook, the notes and information control

There is a scene repeated at every appearance: the entourage with notebook in hand. The official explanation is that they write down the leader's suggestions so his words aren't distorted. The unofficial explanation is that it seems a rather rudimentary method in the middle of the video age. If the goal is to prevent the message from being manipulated, a recording would be harder to distort than a notebook. The irony writes itself.

Information control is the backdrop to the whole episode. North Korea cannot afford for its leader's health to be known with certainty, which is why it plays coy with ambiguous photos and calculated appearances. Part of the analysis holds that this opacity is a rational strategy of a cornered country; others point out that opacity also feeds hoaxes like the one at hand. Both things are true at once, and therein lies the mess.

Who is Cao de Benós and why he matters

The figure who gives the story its title deserves a section of his own. From an aristocratic family, with a background mixing service in the Spanish Air Force and an admiration for North Korea dating back to his adolescence, he has become a kind of unofficial ambassador for the regime in the West. His family credentials, with noble titles and military ties, add a striking contrast to his role as an enthusiastic spokesman for the Juche ideology.

The underlying question is not whether Kim is alive, but why we keep trinc a hoax. Information about the regime circulates through opaque channels, gets amplified on social media and is debunked with the same ease with which it was created. Meanwhile, the region's economy continues on its own course, with South Korea trapped in the hangover of memories and records, and the tech standoff between China and the United States setting the rhythm. The spectacle of the resurrecting leader covers, for a while, what is really moving in Asia.

How many more hoaxes will it take for us to stop looking at the photo and start looking at the calendar?