Impersonators of Kim Jong-un and Donald Trump at the Winter Olympics. Photo: Getty
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A tale of two summits: why North Korea is finally speaking to its enemies

Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un’s similarities, plus a lot of help from South Korea, have led to unprecedented plans for bilateral talks.

It is forecast that, in the spring of 2018, the political climate surrounding the Korean peninsula is likely to be warm.

After almost a decade of military tensions and a diplomatic standoff, the leaders of North and South Koreas have finally agreed to meet in April. More dramatically, an unprecedented US and North Korea summit is due to be held in May.

While it’s unpredictable how these bilateral talks will end, their announcement is already changing the mood music in the region.

The emerging détente in the Korean Cold War was hardly imaginable until the end of 2017. This is largely thanks to the hostile and volatile characteristics of US President Donald Trump and North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un.

Both leaders have an unconventional approach to foreign affairs, to put it mildly. Particularly in US-North Korean relations, they have been playing a political game of spectacular gestures and hyperbolic rhetoric. Trump’s Twitter brinkmanship and Kim’s frenzied responses showcase their non-traditional diplomatic tactics.

However, similar though they are, these online provocations – alongside North Korea’s provocative nuclear and missile programme – have only escalated antagonism between the two sides. 

As the risk of a war became manifest on the Korean peninsula, the South Korean president Moon Jae-in stepped in and volunteered to be an intermediary.

When the Winter Olympics were only a couple of months away, Moon used this event as a diplomatic opportunity. He formally invited North Korea to Pyeongchang 2018 and, at the same time, asked the US to postpone the routine joint military exercise in South Korea until the end of the sporting occasion. The communist regime remained silent but the American government agreed to delay the military drill.

In his New Year message, Kim Jong-un suddenly declared that his country would support the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics and would participate in the event. Moon Jae-in welcomed the signal from the North. A diplomatic channel between the two Koreas was also restored.

Eventually, North and South Korea paraded as one at the opening ceremony and fielded a unified Korean women’s ice hockey team for the first time.

Talk of peace and unification defined the Winter Olympics. The North Korean delegation included a pop orchestra and more than 200 woman cheerleaders. These cultural ambassadors easily outnumbered the North Korean Olympic athletes and presented artistic and choreographic spectacles throughout the sporting event. Their musical performances at the concert hall and synchronised cheers in the stadium grabbed huge media attention globally.

The most dramatic feature was Kim Yo-jung, the sister of Kim Jung-un, making her debut on the Olympic stage. This marked the first North Korean ruling family visit to South Korea. Sending his sibling to the global festival was part of the communist leader’s charm offensive.

Moon Jae-in received the VIP from the North at the presidential palace in Seoul. At the reception, she delivered a message from her brother to the South Korean president, including an invitation to the North Korean capital Pyeongyang.

Special envoys from the South were dispatched to the North after the Olympics. Kim Jung-un met the South Korean senior officials within a few hours of their arrival, and even hosted a dinner for them on that evening, which lasted more than four hours.

This was at odds with conventional diplomatic protocol. Normally, the meeting with the head of state is the climax of a diplomatic visit, and this usually happens after bargaining between delegates. Kim bypassed this step and received the South Korean guests directly.

During these high-level talks, the two sides agreed to hold the inter-Korean summit in late April. Additionally, the North Korean leader stated that he was prepared to talk to the US about de-nuclearisation. The South Korean envoys travelled to Washington to brief Trump on their visit to Pyeongyang.

The American president immediately announced his willingness to meet Kim Jong-un in May. After more than half a century of hostile US-North Korean relations, the US President’s quick reply to the North Korean offer – and his proposal to hold a historical summit in two months’ time – was stunning news, even if it may simply reflect Trump’s idiosyncratic propensity for creating diplomatic soap operas.

Moon Jae-in should take credit for laying a bridge between the US and North Korea. The inter-Korean summit in April can lubricate the subsequent dialogue between Trump and Kim in May.

Only a few months ago, these two eccentric leaders shouted insults at each other. The tone of their first encounter offline will surely be calmer than that of their online showdown. But this by no means suggests that tensions and pressure will be absent from the negotiations. Hopefully, the saga of a “rocket man” and a “dotard” will result in a less provocative outcome.

Dr Jung Woo Lee is lecturer in Sport and Leisure Policy at the University of Edinburgh. His research interests lie in sport and inter-Korean relations. He recently published (with two co-editors) an edited volume of the Routledge Handbook of Sport and Politics.

Italy's populist Five Star Movement (M5S) party leader Luigi Di Maio. CREDIT: GETTY
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Five Star’s “just fix it!” politics and the new age of digital populism

 In the Italian election, Five Star made radical and exciting promises – like a monthly universal basic income of around €780.

One evening in 2004, after finishing a performance of his comedy show Black Out, Beppe Grillo was approached by a tall, austere-looking man called Gianroberto Casaleggio, an IT specialist who ran a web consulting firm. He told Grillo that he could create a blog for him that would transform Italian politics. The internet, Casaleggio explained, would change everything. Political parties and newspaper editors were no longer needed. They could be “disintermediated”.

Grillo, a household name in Italy, was not particularly interested in technology but he was interested in politics. The following year the pair created the promised blog and Grillo began writing about cronyism, green issues and the power of the web to smash what he considered a corrupt, elitist and closed political system. Thousands, then millions, of frustrated Italians flocked to his site. They began using another website,, to gather offline to discuss Grillo’s latest post, and co-ordinate campaigns and rallies. It was heady stuff.

In 2007, this fledgling movement held Vaffanculo Day (which roughly translates to “fuck off day”), an event directed at the suits in charge. Grillo crowd-surfed the thousands who’d turned out in Bologna’s main square in a red dingy. Eugenio Scalfari, founder of the respected centre-left newspaper La Repubblica, wrote an editorial titled “The barbaric invasion of Beppe Grillo”.

In the age of Russian trolls and algorithmic ads, it’s easy to forget how optimistic the mood around digital politics was in the late Noughties. Occupy, the Pirate Party and Barack Obama all seemed to presage the end of tired old hierarchies. They were getting a digital upgrade: open, inclusive and more democratic. Grillo led the charge: in 2009 he declared that his band of online followers would stand in elections as the Five Star Movement. The group refused state funding, capped its MPs’ salaries at the average national wage, and pledged to publish all proposed bills online three months before approval to allow for public comment. All major policy decisions would be taken by votes on the blog, including candidate selections.

Seasoned political analysts dismissed Five Star as a bunch of bloggers and kids, led by a clown. But the movement started achieving local successes, especially in Italy’s poorer south. By 2012 there were 500 local groups and in the following year’s general election, Five Star won 25 per cent of the vote. Analysts repeatedly predicted that normal service would be resumed – but it never was.

In the Italian general election earlier this month, Five Star won 32 per cent of the vote, and 227 seats, easily making it the largest single party. (Grillo, who is 69, distanced himself from Five Star before this triumph. He remains the “guarantor”, but the new leader is 31-year-old Luigi Di Maio.) In a hung parliament, Five Star is currently in a stalemate with Italy’s right-wing alliance (the Northern League, Silvio Berlusconi’s Forza Italia and the Brothers of Italy), which collectively secured more seats.

While Five Star has declared its commitment to direct democracy, many major decisions are taken by a small cadre, which has alienated some early supporters. Its occasional dalliances with power – the current mayor of Rome is Five Star’s Virginia Raggi – have been largely unsuccessful. Yet more than any other movement in Europe, Five Star demonstrates how digital upstarts can demolish years of cosy centrist consensus. Meet-ups are full of sparky, motivated activists – rather like the Corbynite Momentum – who combine online and offline techniques to deliver their message.

Five Star’s political ideas appear radical and exciting, especially to places blighted by economic stagnation. In the Italian election, Five Star promised a monthly universal basic income of around €780 for every adult.

Yet the movement’s rise also reveals the darker side of digital politics. Five Star is unashamedly populist and divisive, pitting the good, honest, ordinary citizen against the out-of-touch professional political class. Ever noticed how all populists, whether left or right, seem to love social media? Nigel Farage, Bernie Sanders, Marine Le Pen, Syriza and, of course, Donald Trump are all avid adopters. It’s partly because short, emotional messages, the populist stock-in-trade, spread so well online. Grillo frequently insults his opponents – he used to call the former Italian prime minister Mario Monti “Rigor Montis” – and new Five Star leader Di Maio recently called for the immediate halt of the “sea taxi service” that rescues migrants in the Mediterranean. There’s a receptive online audience for such content. And the blog is central to Five Star, just as Twitter is to Trump, because, it says, it allows it to circumnavigate the self-interested establishment, and deliver “the truth” straight to the people.

But the love affair runs deeper than clickable posts. The internet is inculcating all of us with new, unrealistic expectations. I call it “just fix it!” politics. Everything online is fast and personalised, answers are simple and immediate. The unhappy compromise and frustrating plod of politics looks increasingly inadequate by comparison, which fuels impatience and even rage.

Populists promise to cut through the tedium with swift and obvious answers, and in that sense they are tuned in to how we live as consumers. By contrast, centrist parties have struggled in the digital age because their watery, dull promises are weighed down by practical know-how and association with power. (“Boring! Traitors!”)

The rage of the jilted lover knows few bounds. This is the problem with all populist movements: what happens when things aren’t as easy as promised? A few days after Five Star’s stunning election result, dozens of young Italians turned up at job centres in Puglia, demanding their €780 monthly basic income. Should Five Star form a government, millions of Italians will turn up with them – and demand a lot more than a few hundred euros. 

Jamie Bartlett is the author of “Radicals: Outsiders Changing the World” (Windmill Books)

Jamie Bartlett is the head of the Violence and Extremism Programme and the Centre for the Analysis of Social Media at Demos.

This article first appeared in the 13 March 2018 issue of the New Statesman, Putin’s spy game