Dictatorial Dynasty

Kim

Jong Il, who runs North Korea like a murderous schoolmaster, has recently identified a new threat to his grip on power. Men in the North are letting their hair grow longer, a social trend so disturbing to Kim—who is instantly recognizable for his gravity-defying bouffant—that he is trying to eradicate it at its roots. The Dear Leader recently decreed that extravagant male locks, defined in the state media as exceeding 5 cm in length, are a bourgeois affectation that could undermine socialism. In a televised campaign called "Let's Trim Our Hair According to the Socialist Lifestyle," citizens are told that long hair breeds body odor and deprives the brain of oxygen. The official recommended style is now a 1.5-cm brush cut called the "virile spirit."

Shag hairdos are perhaps another bit of mounting evidence that North Koreans are chafing under Kim's rule and seeking outlets for individual expression. But as the populace dutifully joined celebrations for Kim's 63rd birthday last week, there was no relief in sight. Instead, Pyongyang watchers believe that Kim was pondering how to perpetuate the rule of his dynasty; they assume that sooner or later he will name a successor to assume the mantle of power he inherited from his father Kim Il Sung in 1994.

Why has the choice not yet been made? Kim Il Sung gave his son the nod by naming him to the Politburo at the age of 32 and then cranked up the regime's propaganda arm to sing his praises. Kim Jong Il's eldest son, Kim Jong Nam, is 33 but the official media isn't yet hyperventilating about him. Meanwhile, Kim's other sons Jong Chol, 23, and Jong Woon, 21, also remain invisible.

The world isn't privy to the inner workings of the secretive regime, but the succession delay may reflect a problem of Kim's own making. A playboy as a young man, he had sons with at least two women but married neither. The mother of Jong Nam was a movie starlet Kim fell for in the 1960s. She was later displaced by an equally attractive dancer named Ko Young Hee, who had his two younger sons.

If there's no Wife No. 1, whose son is in line for the throne? As the eldest, Jong Nam is the logical choice, but he is thought to be odd even by Kim family standards and unfit to rule. The apparent deal breaker occurred in 2001 when he was caught trying to sneak into Japan on a Dominican passport so he could visit Tokyo Disneyland. In 2002, state media seemed to be clearing a path for one of Kim's younger sons by boosting the profile of Ko, but her death last year, reportedly of cancer, may have thrown the succession into confusion again. In November, South Korean intelligence revealed that Kim had sacked his powerful brother-in-law Jang Song Taek, husband of Kim's sister, after he was accused of building an independent power base in the military in an attempt to wrest power from the family, according to Sohn Kwang Joo, the author of a biography about the North Korean leader.

A state television broadcast hinted last month that one of Kim's children would one day take over the task of building paradise on earth. But North Koreans, who these days prefer to get their drama from pirated South Korean soap operas, may no longer care. Most North Koreans don't even know how many sons the Dear Leader has, says Park Sang Hak, a defector and human-rights activist in Seoul. "People are too tired of endless hunger and threats of war to think about the succession," says Park. About all they could expect from a coronation ceremony might be an extra bowl of rice and an admonition not to show up with long hair.