Kim Jong-il dead? You're having a laugh

RADIO REVIEW:THIS MAY BE the time of year when children fervently express their belief in the existence of a benevolent old man who showers them with munificence, but others had their faith in a similarly mythical figure shattered last week.

The death of the North Korean dictator Kim Jong-Il featured on a surprisingly wide range of shows last week, with much attention given to the population responsible for the very public scenes of grief that followed his demise.

The topic was covered for two days running on Today with Pat Kenny (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), with the host particularly interested in how an entire country could apparently be in thrall to a despot who had presided over penury and famine. Given the opacity of the North Korean regime, the answers were largely speculative, though some of the questions were more revealing about the presenter: at times Kenny was gripped by a jocularity that jarred with the tragic subject.

On Monday, having dissected the prospects of the regime’s new leader, Kim Jong-Un, with Dr John Swenson Wright, Kenny tried to introduce a lighter note. He described the secretive country as resembling a James Bond parody, recalling how the late ruler’s eldest son had apparently tried to enter Japan on a false passport to visit Disneyland. Kenny’s guest sounded slightly nonplussed, stressing that “the cartoon image we sometimes see in the media is a vast departure from the reality”, which included widespread starvation and repression.

Presumably, Kenny was attempting to square the harsh facts of daily life in North Korea with the more preposterous aspects of Kim Jong-Il’s cult of personality. But it had that certain cack-handed tone that sometimes overcomes the presenter in his keenness to display his knowledge.

This had not entirely dissipated the following day, when he spoke to the journalists Julian Lyall and Richard Lloyd Parry. Perhaps encouraged by Lyall, who agreed with his conjecture that the extraordinary public grieving suggested the whole country lacked cynicism, Kenny continued this line with the other reporter. But Lloyd Parry said it was an injustice to characterise an entire population as mad or brainwashed – “You can’t really generalise about 17 million people” – adding that fear was as big a reason as sorrow for the widespread weeping. It added to the suspicion that empathetic people skills are not his forte.

On Wednesday, however, Kenny gave us a rare glimpse of the emotions lurking beneath his self-consciously forensic persona, during a tetchy interview with the Fine Gael TD Joe McHugh. The ostensible subject was the Government’s proposed comprehensive property tax, which Kenny used as an opportunity to express wider outrage, repeatedly pressing McHugh to concede his party had broken its election promises by bailing out Anglo Irish Bank. By the end, his guest obfuscated so much that Kenny had enough. “Let’s forget this. Goodbye,” he said curtly. “You refuse to answer the question, so that’s fine.” And the interview was unilaterally terminated, Kenny’s point well made. He should give in to his impulses more often.

International politics not being a regular topic on Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), it was somewhat unexpected that North Korea featured prominently on Monday's show. But given Joe Duffy's skill at wringing every ounce of human interest from any matter he covers, it was no shock that his callers' tales of tourism in North Korea – a minority holiday destination, one would have thought – should be so engaging and even enlightening.

The most entertaining contributions came from veteran Dublin practitioners of tae kwon do, the Korean martial art, who had participated in tournaments in Pyongyang. There was much chuckling as Robert, a tae-kwon-do grand master, detailed how the sole Irish competitor failed to arrive at the most recent event, having got lost in Heathrow.

“We won’t be sending him to the funeral, so,” chuckled Duffy.

But there were interesting insights too. Another tae-kwon-do aficionado, Walter, said that the deprivation and devotion in Pyongyang reminded him of Ireland in the 1960s. He saw a parallel between people here instinctively blessing themselves 50 years ago and North Koreans automatically putting on a medal of Kim whenever they went out. Maybe the place isn’t so bizarre after all.

It says something about Livelinethat an item on a dysfunctional dictatorship provides the show's light relief. Just in case anyone was getting into the Christmas spirit too much, Monday's show started on a more familiar note, with victims of urban crime recounting recent traumas.

The tales of wives mugged at knife point and widows robbed in cars were distressing, but it was discomfiting to hear Duffy eliciting harrowing accounts from elderly female callers – “What happened to you, petal?” – while trying to reassure them. “Don’t be thinking they’re watching you, they’re not,” he said. “It won’t happen again.” This sounded glib, as Duffy’s show regularly gives the impression that Ireland is constantly on the verge of a vicious Hobbesian state of nature. Still, his callers tried to keep their chins up. “Happy Christmas,” said one of the shaken widows as she hung up, in a muted tone. Try enjoying the season after that.

Radio moment of the week 

Depending on how you view an almost endless supply of festive songs and a chirpy roster of volunteer DJs, the temporarily licensed, charity-driven Christmas FM is a slice of holiday cheer or one of holiday hell. But amid seasonal numbers by Ryan Sheridan and Lynyrd Skynrd, one DJ showed a wry self-awareness last week, as he worried whether his voice would last the show. “It’s like a race against time,” he said, “with almost nothing at stake.”