Looking back at this vignette, it’s clear that the so-called “unaccommodating environment” was never just an abstract concept for my research, which it was a lived experience that shaped every step of it. My motivation, as both a human rights educator and a South Korean citizen, really grew out of one uncomfortable realisation: once I met North Korean migrants face-to-face, I saw just how wide the gap was between “what they had lived through in the North” and “what I thought I knew about North Korea.” And the gap did not stop there. There was also a sharp difference between “how former North Korean citizens saw themselves as South Korean citizens” and “how people like me perceived them as South Koreans” (Cheong, 2022, p.17).

 

This disconnect became painfully clear through Mr. Yu’s case. His arrest showed how quickly the public could embrace a narrative shaped by old Cold War fears what Park (2010) calls the division habitus, and how easily the National Security Law can mark North Koreans as the “chief enemy,” effectively reducing them to second-class citizens. Watching the anxiety ripple through the young migrants I worked with made one thing undeniable: the division habitus is not a relic of the past. It is something active, something political, and something that continues to be used to manufacture fear and deepen social divides (Cheong, 2022).

 

Through these encounters, I came to realise, often quite painfully, that the division of the Korean Peninsula is not just a matter of territory. Rather, it has produced nearly 80 years of psychological and social division between the people of the two Koreas, resulting in forging the conflict-attuned civic identities. As a researcher, I now see this entrenched mindset and conflict-attuned civic identities as one of the biggest obstacles to any future unification or meaningful social integration. And for me, understanding how North Korean migrants navigate their journeys across North Korea, South Korea, and sometimes broader democratic contexts has become essential to understanding what it really means to live at a tipping point of transition.

 

Once again, the division of the Korean Peninsula has done far more than draw a military border for nearly 80 years; it has carved a deep psychological and cultural divide between the people of the two Koreas. As a result, conversations about “unification” can no longer be reduced to political negotiations. They have broadened into a far more complex challenge of genuine 'social integration.'

 

Against this backdrop, I focus on the diaspora communities of North Korean migrants who have built new lives beyond the Peninsula. My interest here stems from the belief that sustainable peace ultimately emerges from relationships—how people encounter, imagine, and live with one another across lines of division.

 

Seen this way, North Korean migrants in the diaspora hold powerful potential as what I call Bridge Citizens: individuals who experiment with coexistence beyond long-standing conflict. As defined by Cheong (2022, 2024) and Cheong et al. (2025), bridge citizens are those who help cultivate the kinds of civic knowledge, values, and identities that are essential for fostering durable peace in divided societies. This civic identity is grounded in a cosmopolitan mindset, a sense of interconnectedness, and an imaginative orientation toward social justice that enables people to build inclusive relationships across group boundaries. Through this lens, North Korean defectors are not simply 'migrants' but individuals who actively form new identities and relational networks in the 'in-between spaces' that link North Korea, South Korea, and their local communities abroad.

 

In the end, the lives and experiences of the North Korean refugee diaspora offer more than personal narratives. They provide a mirror reflecting possible futures for peace and social integration on the Korean Peninsula. By reinterpreting migration as connection, sojourning of reconciliation, and unification as the restoration of relationships, this study positions their voices as a practical compass for imagining what genuine peace and integration might look like in the years ahead.