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He came; he saw; he got chummy with Asia's last great dictator.
It was Dennis Rodman's finest hour. Even as a star player in the Chicago Bulls, he never moved beyond the sport or society sections: Now, he is splashed all over global front pages.
For a chap who enjoys publicity ― and the more outrageous the publicity the better ― this is as good as it gets. Even so, I can't fault Rodman for heading North. And I can't fault the Harlem Globetrotters for attempting "basketball diplomacy." Contact beats no contact ― "jaw jaw is better than war war," as Churchill put it.
And if basketball offers the possibility of improving relations with the Pyongyang regime, then let us dispatch basketballs by the ton. After all, this visit generated a far greater ripple among North Korea's elite than did the much-heralded concert by the New York Philharmonic.
But what are the chances of the Rodman visit spearheading some kind of political breakthrough? I would guess they are roughly equivalent to Rodman winning a "Best Actor" Oscar for his next action potboiler, or perhaps of his new best chum making the front cover of "Men's Health."
Then, what have we learned from our first-ever, close-up glimpse of Kim Jong-un?
First and foremost, Kim is, indeed human: Like other mortals, he enjoys watching tall men toss balls through hoops. Fair enough. Even this "duh" realization has some value, for when perusing Pyongyang's bizarre monarchy, it is easy to forget that we are dealing with real, live humans, rather than a nuclear Fu Manchu surrounded by evil scientists and clockwork battalions of goose-stepping kung-fu stormtroopers.
Yet how reassuring is proof of Kim's normalcy? Not much: Even the worst dictators have human foibles. For example, that sensitive Austrian artist who was renowned for his kindness toward animals and small children. Or at least, Teutonic ones: Hitler was less paternal toward the millions of Jewish, Gypsy, Polish and Soviet children he slaughtered.
"Granted ― but hold on!" you cry. "Rodman told news reporters that Kim wants President Obama to call him!"
Imagine that. Imagine if Rodman was summoned for a debrief to (gasp) the White House! And then ― having got Kim's smartphone number from Rodman ― imagine if Obama picked up the presidential blower and called Kim, direct! And they had a friendly chat ― about, say, their shared interest in basketball. And that led to a summit ― which made everything alright! My, wouldn't that be just dandy?
It would ― but let's get real. Remember how Kim II gave then-Secretary of State Madeleine Albright his email address? As far as I know, that promising, one-to-one channel led precisely nowhere.
My take away from the Rodman visit is this: That despite his sacred bloodline and the impressive official titles he holds, Kim III is not fully in charge in Pyongyang. And whoever is, favors no negotiations that might lead to a change in the system that the young marshal has inherited: A system which may, indeed, constrain any promising ideas the Swiss-educated leader may try to implement.
Why do I think thusly? Because while Kim cheerfully wags chins and clinks glasses with basketball stars, he avoids talking to ― or is prevented from talking to ― serious negotiators.
Take Pyongyang's diplomatic corps, who met Kim during New Year's festivities. According to reports, their meeting was short and Kim spoke not a work of English. Of course, as a Korean leader in Korea, he has no obligation to. But as noted Pyongyang watcher Mike Breen mused, this looks suspiciously deliberate: By not blurting out even a New Year's greeting in English, Kim could not say anything off-script – a script written by the shadowy powers behind his throne.
It's not just diplomats who are getting the brush-off. Two high-profile American visitors to the "democratic republic" recently returned home empty-handed.
Former U.S. politico Bill Richardson was recently in town with Google's Eric Schmidt. Richardson may be retired, but knows the power players in DC; Schmidt has the ear of the global business community. If they were convinced of Kim's sincerity, these men could have got things moving for North Korea in both the political and economic spheres.
Yet they received no invitation to the Kim Bunker. Why not? Because, I would guess, Kim's handlers do not trust him to chat with serious players, rather than sports players.
Generally, I don't like being wrong (though I frequently am). However, if I am proven incorrect on the above and basketball diplomacy gets real, diplomatic balls rolling ― well, I would be delighted.
But I am not holding my breath. On matters North Korean, cynicism consistently proves to be the only realistic attitude to adopt.
Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.