Whether North Koreans Are Actually Fighting for Russia in Ukraine Is Less Important Than Whether You Believe It

Extraordinary claims always require extraordinary evidence.

By now, you’ve probably heard the claim that North Korea has dispatched soldiers from its million-man army to fight in Ukraine. This claim, repeated across Western media for months, has been based mostly on grainy drone footage, photos of captured or killed soldiers who “look” Asian, and statements from American, Ukrainian, and South Korean officials “confirming” that yes, for sure, there are hundreds — maybe even thousands — of North Koreans fighting and dying for Russia in Ukraine.

While neither Russia nor the DPRK (“North Korea’) have confirmed the presence of North Korean soldiers in Ukraine, the lack of any concrete evidence has not stopped Western media from spinning wild stories about these little-seen soldiers: colorful claims that they developed crippling pornography addictions immediately upon encountering the internet, charged headlong into battle in human waves (always to their deaths), and were under strict instructions to “commit suicide with a grenade to avoid capture.” The fact that these unverified claims stem exclusively from U.S., Ukrainian, or South Korean military or intelligence sources has gone largely unchallenged. The prevailing western narrative has become clear: “Crazy Kim Jong Un” sent his troops as a “blood offering” to “Crazy Putin,” who, in turn, has decided to use these mindless zombies as cannon fodder and expand the Ukraine War to include troops from an “unhinged, nuclear-armed regime.”

Recently, Ukrainian President Zelensky released an edited 3-minute video clip showing two purported North Korean detainees. The New York Times breathlessly reported on the alleged capture of the “highly indoctrinated troops,” relaying a remarkable tale from “South Korean lawmakers who briefed journalists after a closed-door meeting with the spy agency” (which, curiously, is never named) that “[o]ne North Korean soldier was trying to blow himself up with a grenade, shouting the name of North Korea’s leader, Kim Jong-un, when he was shot by Ukrainian troops.” The video’s authenticity — and whether these soldiers are truly from the DPRK — remains uncertain. But whether North Koreans are fighting in Ukraine is actually far less important than whether the public believes it.

Over the past year, Western media has focused on the growing ties between Russia and the DPRK, especially after Respected Comrade Kim Jong Un’s September 2023 visit to Russia’s Vostochny Cosmodrome. It was at that meeting that Putin suggested the DPRK might send “observers” to Ukraine to see NATO equipment in action. This visit marked the beginning of a formal strategic defense alliance between Russia and the DPRK, one that included a mutual defense agreement similar to NATO's Article 5 and the U.S. defense treaty with South Korea.

Despite intense Western finger-wagging, it should hardly be surprising that two neighboring countries facing intense international sanctions might form an alliance, particularly as the United States has relied extensively on such alliances to project its military might across nearly 1,000 foreign military bases around the world. Indeed, it is through defense alliances that the United States today maintains 200 military bases serving more than 80,000 troops, battleships, bombers, and an unknown quantity of armaments around the DPRK and China’s borders in South Korea and Japan.

Ultimately, whether North Korean soldiers are actually fighting in Ukraine doesn’t matter— it is the sovereign right of Russia and North Korea to enter into a military alliance and defend their interests. Putin confirmed as much in October 2024, remarking that the question of DPRK troops fighting in Ukraine “is our [Russia’s] sovereign decision. Whether we use [them] or not, where, how, or whether we engage in exercises, training, or transfer some experience. It’s our business.” This is no different from past instances where other countries, such as China and the Soviet Union, supported the DPRK during the Korean War. The real issue is not whether military allies fight together in a war against a common adversary, but whether the public accepts that as fact without concrete or verifiable evidence.

The process of evaluating an extraordinary claim like "10,000 DPRK soldiers are fighting in Ukraine” should be straightforward: assess the available evidence, gauge its credibility, and draw a rational conclusion. These are basic components of media literacy and critical thinking, but unfortunately, these skills are scarcely taught or encouraged in American institutions. Before Zelensky’s edited video, all evidence pointing to North Korean involvement in Ukraine consisted of unreliable rumors and low-quality footage— all sourced from enemies of Russia and the DPRK — of captured or killed soldiers who perhaps more closely resembled Genghis Khan than Josef Stalin or Ivan Drago. The most outrageous claims — about soldiers being addicted to pornography, running Leroy Jenkins-style into open fields of battle only to be insta-gibbed, and committing suicide to avoid capture — could only be traced back to anonymous intelligence sources from the U.S., Ukraine, or South Korea. Yet, the lack of solid evidence has not stopped Western media from amplifying the story, and now, even a highly dubious video seems enough to cement the narrative in the minds of many.

In imperial discourse, truth matters less than controlling the narrative. Much in the same way it mattered little whether North Vietnamese forces attacked U.S. ships unprovoked in the Gulf of Tonkin, whether Iraq was involved in 9/11, or whether Stalin killed 100 gorillion people, whether North Korean troops are actually in Ukraine is secondary to whether the public believes that they are. What mattered most in all of these situations was whether the public believed these stories, regardless of any evidence or the quality of that evidence.

Today, we find ourselves subjected to another narrative, repeated relentlessly despite a lack of concrete evidence. As for those who call for evidence, they will quickly find the onus placed on them to prove there aren’t North Koreans in Ukraine—a task as impossible as it is absurd. In the end, the goal isn’t to share or establish the truth, but to shape public belief. And for a credulous, uncritical, and largely media-illiterate public, that goal is too easily achieved—and with far too little at that.