The demise of Moammar Gadhafi’s regime gave Abdulhafid Sidoun a second chance at life.

Six days before Sidoun was to be executed for promoting democracy in Libya, rebels toppled the government and emptied the country’s jails of its political prisoners. After more than five months of beatings and abuse on death row, Sidoun was free. Weeks later, Gadhafi was dead, gunned down by the rebels.

Sidoun’s fight to bring democracy and accountability to Libya is far from over. Qadaffi’s 40-year stranglehold starved Libya of political debate and evolution, and Sidoun knew he needed a crash-course in building an open, stable society. He received one this summer at Stanford, joining 23 other pro-democracy advocates from 22 countries in the Draper Hills Summer Fellows Program on Democracy and Development.

“Gadhafi is gone, but we still have a corrupt system we need to clean up,” says Sidoun, a Tripoli-based lawyer who waged a social media campaign to unite Gadhafi opponents. “My country needs me now. I have to work with my friends and colleagues and other lawyers and tell them what I’ve learned.”

Abdulhafid Sidoun was sentenced to death for trying to topple Moammar Gadhafi’s regime. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

He has chronic back pain from the blows dealt by prison guards. And he winces when he talks about being torn from his family and isolated in a dark cell where he had no idea how – or even whether – the revolt against Gadhafi was unfolding until rebels broke him free.

For three weeks in late July and early August, Sidoun and the other fellows participated in faculty-led sessions on democracy, economic development, global health and hunger, human rights and the new technologies making it easier to organize and inspire reform. They took field trips to San Francisco and Monterey and met with officials at Google, Facebook and the Omidyar Network, a philanthropic investment firm that is contributing to the fellowship program.

And they spent time getting to know each other. Entrepreneurs, lawyers, journalists, politicians and civil society leaders sharing stories of overwhelming repression and the small successes they’ve had in trying to reform governments in places like Chile, China, Serbia and Zimbabwe.

“Everyone here has different stories and cultures, but we all talk about the same corruption,” Sidoun says. “We are learning that our problems are not very different.”

Fighting ignorance, encouraging debate

Now in its eighth year, the Draper Hills program – run by the Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law at Stanford’s Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies – has created and grown a worldwide network of up-and-coming leaders.

About 200 fellows from more than 60 countries have passed through the program and are now trying to craft policy and bring about political and economic reform.

“Many governments in Latin America are suffering from very strong political leaders who were elected presidents but think they are little kings or queens who own the country,” says Laura Alonso, a national representative in the Argentine Congress selected as one of this year’s fellows.

“The main problem is that the people who become so powerful distort the rule of law,” she says. “There is a rule of law for their friends and a different rule of law for their enemies. So this is what I want to go home and address – how can we have a rule of law that applies to everyone? My time at Stanford is giving me the perspective I need to go back to the basics of democracy.”

The fellowship program also addresses the overlap of business and government, and has increased its emphasis on the role entrepreneurs play in building democracy.

"We have brought a few entrepreneurs into the group of fellows," says Kathryn Stoner, an expert on Russia who lectured to the fellows about democratic transitions. "It is good for them to know how to get around corrupt practices in government. We also know that a strong middle class is the backbone of democracy. Once people have property, they tend to want to protect it as well as to demand representation for any taxes they pay. Encouraging entrepreneurship then is a good way to pursue both economic and political development worldwide."

While they’re all at Stanford to learn, the fellows are eager to share their newfound knowledge.

Kamal Siddiqi uses his position as a newspaper editor to strengthen democracy in Pakistan. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

Bassim Assuqair was raised in Yemen by parents who forbade him from working as a teenager so he could devote all his energy to his studies. After earning a degree in English education from Sana’a University, he has worked for various development organizations. But he’s most interested in organizing Yemen’s youth and teaching them about the benefits of living in a country with free elections and the rule of law.

“There is so much ignorance, so much illiteracy in my country,” he says. “The people aren’t bad. They’re simple. They need awareness. I want them to know peace. It’s my task – I am ordering myself – to explain to others what I’m learning here.”

Kamal Siddiqi is another self-styled evangelist of democracy. As editor of The Express Tribune, an English-language daily in Pakistan, Siddiqi uses the newspaper as a check on government power while making the case that “a very bad elected prime minister is still better than a very good dictator.”

As a Draper Hills fellow, Siddiqi picked up technological tips and made connections with Stanford faculty that will help him better monitor crime, corruption and his country’s upcoming elections.

“I want to draw on the strength of the faculty and fellows of CDDRL to write for my newspaper,” he says. “They will play a part in my attempt to introduce some more ideas and issues in the general debate on elections and democracy.”

A chance to reflect

When FSI Director Coit D. Blacker and a core group of FSI’s senior fellows – including CDDRL Director Larry Diamond, Stoner-Weiss, former Stanford President Gerhard Casper and Michael A. McFaul, now Washington’s ambassador to Moscow – created the fellowship program, they wanted to give practitioners a chance to reflect and learn about democratic theory.

"We felt that practitioners from developing countries or countries in political and economic transition often feel isolated in the work that they do and they burn out," says Stoner-Weiss. "There were no such programs for international practitioners when we began eight years ago. We wanted to provide them with a sense of international community and the knowledge that they are not toiling away on their own." 

And the lessons the fellows learn from Stanford faculty can be invaluable. When it comes to building a constitution – something several of the fellows grapple with – Francis Fukuyama says there’s only a certain amount of time for a newly formed government to “get it right.”

FSI's Gerhard Casper waves a copy of the Magna Carta while speaking to the fellows about the rule of law. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

“If you don’t, your window of opportunity slams shut,” says Fukuyama, a FSI senior fellow who lectured to the group about economic development and governance.

“But you don’t want to invite more problems by not thinking through exactly what kind of government you want," he says. "You need to have a theoretical and academic perspective.”

And the learning goes both ways.

“I’m getting the problems and issues of 22 countries downloaded onto me in a very short period of time,” says Erik Jensen, a law professor and CDDRL faculty member who also helped start the fellowship program.

“The fellows bring important insights and opinions that don’t land on the front page of The New York Times, but are integral to understanding what’s going on in the developing world,” he says. “That’s pretty great to have in one room.”

Courage, risk and magic

After building momentum and attracting a growing number of faculty who wanted to work with the fellows, the program that began in 2005 quickly caught the interest of venture capitalist Bill Draper and philanthropist Ingrid Hills. Their $1.5 million gift gave the program its name in 2007.

Draper’s interest in the program is deeply tied to his background running the United Nations Development Programme between 1986 and 1994.

“There are wonderfully courageous leaders in this world who are willing to take risks,” Draper says. “It’s magical what can happen, and I’ve seen how one person really can make an enormous difference. A lot of people selected for this fellowship program have that opportunity.”

Hills anticipates the fellows will create a network that extends beyond the three weeks they spend together at Stanford. And former fellows plan to connect in Africa later this year to explore how to combat regional corruption and increase government accountability.

“My hope is that the program will give the fellows the knowledge and tools to build an infrastructure in their respective countries based on democratic principles,” Hills said.

Diamond, whose opening day lecture on defining democracy sets the stage for the learning that unfolds over the coming weeks, says the program ultimately invests in people with the potential to expand democracy.

“It gives them skills, ideas and comparative experiences to draw on,” he says. “Some of these people will continue to work in an important and incremental way to advance and defend human rights and the rule of law. Some will go on to have very prominent roles in government and civil society.”

Life sentence

Some of them, like Ethiopia’s Birtukan Midekssa, are already renowned political leaders whose stories underscore the most extreme hardships of building democracy.

Pardoned from the lifelong prison sentence she received for opposing Ethiopia's authoritarian government, Birtukan Midekssa is still fighting for democratic reform. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

By the second time Midekssa was in prison, her daughter was old enough to ask if her mother was going to come home.

“I’ll be back,” Midekssa told the 3-year-old. But the promise was tenuous. She was serving a life sentence, convicted of trying to overthrow Ethiopia’s constitutional order. Her actual crime was promoting honest democracy in a country run by a government intolerant of dissent and dismissive of civil liberties.

She was first sentenced to life in prison in 2005. Her daughter was 8 months old and Midekssa – then a federal judge – was just elected deputy chair of the Coalition for Unity and Democracy. Her party had won a majority in parliament, but Prime Minister Meles Zenawi cracked down on the rising opposition. Midekssa and about 30,000 others were thrown in jail. Security forces killed nearly 200 demonstrators during rallies that began peacefully.

Midekssa was pardoned 18 months later, but re-arrested in 2008 after being accused of violating the terms of that agreement. She had also recently been elected chair of a new opposition group.

“They had me in solitary confinement and cut off from the entire world,” she says. “Sometimes I felt like the whole world was forgetting about me.”

It had not. When she was pardoned again in 2010, throngs of overjoyed supporters greeted her with shouts, songs and dance when she returned to her neighborhood in Addis Ababa.

But Midekssa was drained. Her party was weakened and her political prospects were uncertain. With few options in Ethiopia, she and her daughter moved to the United States in 2011.

“There was little I could do,” she says. “I wanted to learn more, study more and figure out how to establish democracy and stability.”

Landing a Draper Hills fellowship meant the chance to tap into a deep academic perspective and think about how she might take another pass at building democracy when Ethiopia’s authoritarian system shows some sign of opening up.

“She’s not a revolutionary in favor of violence or radical change,” Diamond says. “If the regime decides it wants to negotiate a process of political reform and put the political system on the foundations of greater legitimacy, she’s one of the first people they’d need to reach out to.”

But until they do, Midekssa will wait patiently. Studying. Retooling. Sharing her experiences. And repeating the promise she made to her daughter years ago:

“I’ll be back.”

Steven Pifer, former United States Ambassador to Ukraine and senior fellow and director of the Arms Control Initiative at Brookings, offers his insight into the current status of nuclear arms control and the issues impacting future prospects for negotiation in a presentation posted on the Brookings Institute website

Steven Pifer’s career as a Foreign Service officer centered around Europe, the former Soviet Union and arms control. In addition to Kyiv, he has had postings in London, Moscow, Geneva and Warsaw as well as on the National Security Council. Ambassador Pifer is currently a Visiting Fellow at the Brookings Institution, focusing on Ukraine and Russia issues. He is a frequent invited expert speaker at The Europe Center. 

He’s been a presidential adviser, academic administrator, scholar and mentor.
But listening to those who best know Coit Blacker talk about his professional achievements is to hear people describe a close friend nearly everyone calls “Chip.”

“One of the reasons Chip has been so successful as a leader is that he is simply a good guy,” said Condoleezza Rice, who first met Blacker at Stanford in the early 1980s – long before she would become the university’s provost and later serve as President George W. Bush’s secretary of state.

“Great leaders are first and foremost good people,” Rice said.

After a decade leading Stanford’s Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies, Blacker is stepping down from the position on Aug. 31. He will be succeeded by President Emeritus Gerhard Casper.

Following a yearlong sabbatical, Blacker plans to return to campus and continue teaching about foreign policy – a topic he mastered through academic research and as President Bill Clinton’s special assistant for national security affairs and senior director of Russian, Ukrainian and Eurasian affairs at the National Security Council.

Reading letters written by Clinton, former national security adviser Sandy Berger and Michael McFaul – the U.S. ambassador to Russia and FSI senior fellow who studied closely with Blacker – Rice capped a lineup of colleagues, students and donors who honored the departing director during a farewell reception held June 14 at the Cantor Arts Center.

“Under your directorship, the institute has enhanced its status as one of the globe’s most prominent and influential centers for the study of international relations,” Clinton wrote. “The institute’s research is helping us move toward a more stable, sustainable and equitable world in this age of interdependence. In addition to your devotion to Stanford, I will always be grateful for your outstanding work at the National Security Council during my presidency.”

Nearly 20 years before joining the Clinton administration in 1995, Blacker arrived at Stanford as a postdoctoral fellow in the university's Arms Control and Disarmament Program. He lectured and taught through the 1980s, becoming a popular professor known for working closely with his students.

“I saw in him a mentor who not only excelled in his field, but did so with intellectual fortitude, integrity, and a deep-seeded sense of service to which I only hoped I could aspire,” said Theo Milonopoulos, a former student of Blacker’s who is now a Fulbright Scholar at King’s College London.

In 1991, Blacker became a senior fellow at the Institute for International Studies – the precursor to FSI. He was appointed as the institute’s deputy director in 1998, and took over as director five years later.

Under Blacker’s tenure, FSI expanded its number of research centers from four to seven, and grew its faculty from 21 to 32 professors. The institute’s endowment is nearly $200 million, up from $122 million in 2002.

“FSI has really become the jewel in the crown of Stanford’s interdisciplinary institutes under Chip’s leadership,” said Ann Arvin, Stanford’s dean of research. “I hesitate to say how many times I have advised others to just ask Chip how they do it at FSI – whatever `it’ may be.”

Continuing to move between the academic and political worlds, Blacker advised Vice President Al Gore on foreign policy issues during the 2000 presidential race.

Back at Stanford a year later, he was awarded the Laurence and Naomi Carpenter Hoagland Prize for undergraduate teaching, and was named the Olivier Nomellini Family University Fellow in Undergraduate Education in 2002.

Even surrounded by faculty at Stanford, Blacker was never far from policymakers in Washington and working abroad. In a letter read by Rice, McFaul wrote directly to his old teacher.

“You have been and remain one of my most important mentors,” McFaul wrote. “I have not made a single decision in my professional career without first seeking your advice.”

“Chip has had a distinguished career – not just as a scholar, not just as a teacher – but of course as a policymaker,” Rice said. “It is that wonderful sensibility for what policymakers need and listen to that helps him to translate Stanford and its great research for the policy world.”

In 2005, Blacker was instrumental in securing a $50 million naming gift from Brad Freeman and Ronald Spogli, partners in a private equity investment firm.

“We believed very much in the guiding principal of interdisciplinary research which is at the core of FSI today,” said Spogli, a former U.S. ambassador to Italy and San Marino. “But the most important reason that we made our gift is Chip Blacker. We believed in Chip as the leader who would be able to take FSI to a new and greater level.”

Much of Blacker’s success has revolved around his development and support of FSI’s faculty. Stephen Krasner, FSI’s deputy director who has worked with Blacker for about 20 years, praised his friend and colleague for fostering an environment where researchers are eager to collaborate and share ideas.

“From the outside – when Chip does these things – they all look flawless, effortless, perfectly organized, well structured,” Krasner said. “From the inside, you can see how astute, wise and generous Chip has been in developing FSI and its faculty and activities.”

As the Soviet Union was dying in December 1991, a quiet collaboration between Russian and American scientists was being born. The Russians were bankrupt, the KGB was in disarray and nuclear scientist Siegfried S. Hecker – at the time director of the Los Alamos National Laboratory – was alarmed as tens of thousands of nuclear weapons and much of the more than 1,000 tons of fissile materials across the broken Soviet states stood poorly protected.

Thousands of Soviet scientists were suddenly in limbo and President George H.W. Bush worried some might turn to Iran or Iraq to sell their nuclear knowledge. Washington suddenly found itself more threatened by Russia’s weakness than its strengths. That recognition drove U.S. Senators Sam Nunn and Richard Lugar to launch cooperative threat reduction legislation, subsequently known as the Nunn-Lugar Cooperative Threat Reduction Act.

Secretary of Energy Admiral James Watkins echoed President Bush’s concern when he called a meeting in December 1991 with Hecker, today the co-director of Stanford’s Center for International Security and Cooperation (CISAC).

“I told him, I’ve been trying to get us together with the Russians for several years,” Hecker said. “Why don’t we go to their lab directors and say, `What’s it going to take to keep your guys home and from selling their knowledge someplace else?’”

Several weeks later, in February 1992, Hecker was on a tarmac in the once-secret Russian nuclear city of Sarov, shaking hands with Yuli Khariton. The Soviet physicist was the chief designer of Russia’s atomic bomb – their Robert Oppenheimer, creator of our nuclear bomb and first director of the Los Alamos laboratory in New Mexico.

Hecker would go on to make 44 trips to Russia in the name of nuclear nonproliferation and cooperation. His most recent was last month with CISAC researchers Peter Davis and Niko Milonopoulos and a dozen Americans scientists, to commemorate 20 years of laboratory-to-laboratory cooperation. They hosted a conference with their Russian counterparts in Sarov, the Russian version of Los Alamos 300 miles east of Moscow.

Some 100 Americans and Russians attended various legs of the conference, including the scientific directors of the three Russian nuclear weapons laboratories: Rady Ilkaev, Evgeny Avrorin and Yuri Barmakov. The American delegation included Jeffery Richardson, CISAC affiliate and former head of chemistry and proliferation prevention at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory; James W. Toevs, former project leader for the Nuclear Cities Initiatives at Los Alamos; and K. David Nokes, former vice president of national security and arms control at Sandia National Laboratory. 

CISAC Co-director Siegfried Hecker and Rady Ilkaev, a scientific director within the Russian Federal Nuclear Center, swap gifts during their April 2012 conference in Sarov, Russia.

Hecker is determined to reignite the collaboration efforts, which have diminished dramatically in the last decade due to stark differences at the highest levels of our governments and because the Russian secret service agency has again tightened their grip on the nuclear complex.

“The 1990s were the heydays for us,” he said. “The scientists played a major role; we actually pushed the envelope on what we could do cooperatively. We worked well with the Russians.”

The U.S. Department of Energy supported and financed the joint efforts of the American and Russian nuclear laboratories to secure and safeguard Russian nuclear facilities and materials. They enlisted the help of civilian institutes to make urgent security upgrades at their nuclear facilities and the Americans brought the Russians to the U.S. nuclear sites – including the plutonium facility at Los Alamos – to let them see firsthand how Americans handled protection, control and accounting of nuclear material.

“The Sandia National Laboratories actually helped provide Kevlar blankets to protect Russian nuclear weapons while they were transporting them so that in case somebody shot at them, you didn’t get a mushroom cloud,” Hecker recalled.

Then, Russian President Vladimir Putin came to power for the first time in 2000 and the Federal Security Service – formerly the KGB – started tightening the screws. U.S. visas became difficult to obtain after the 9/11 terrorist attacks ratcheted up consular bureaucracy. Scientists on both sides began to feel less welcome at the labs and sites they had readily visited for a decade.

During his April trip, Hecker felt as if he were under house arrest in the worst security squeeze he’d seen in the 20 years of visiting Russia. He was followed by a security agent when he jogged, until the mud along the river became too deep for the agent’s shiny black shoes; Davis and Milonopoulos had their access denied at the last minute and were not allowed to enter Sarov to attend the three-day portion of the conference.

Many lab-to-lab cooperative agreements were allowed to expire by the Russian side in the last decade; even collaborations on fundamental research have been restricted and there is little nuclear power engineering cooperation. Worst of all, Hecker said, joint efforts to battle nuclear terrorism and compare means by which each side keeps its nuclear warheads safe and secure without nuclear testing are now virtually nonexistent.

“We ought to be working together, for heavens sake,” he said. “We’re not going to terrorize each other; we’ve got to keep the terrorists away from the rest of the world. We just have to get back to working together.”

CISAC researchers Peter Davis, left, and Niko Milonopoulous, right, with the U.S. Ambassador to Russia Michael McFaul at the ambassador's residence in Moscow in April 2012.

Their first step will be to compile the proceedings of the meetings with their Russian counterparts in Sarov, Nizhny Novgorod and Moscow. The document will be provided to the U.S. Department of Energy and policymakers in the Obama administration, as well as the three current U.S. nuclear lab directors, who are making their first joint visit to Russia in June. Hecker said his Russian counterparts are trying to coax Moscow into jumpstarting the collaboration efforts while wooing a new generation of nuclear scientists to the table.

Hecker, along with two former Russian nuclear weapons lab directors, is working on a book to document 20 years of nuclear collaboration between Russian and American nuclear scientists.

“The book is going to do a thorough job of looking at: What we did, why did it matter, what conditions made it possible and, then, what lessons were learned that might allow us to reestablish the relationship,” he said.

Hecker had another mission on his recent trip to Sarov. He wanted to reassure his Russian counterparts that their personal relationships truly mattered.

With the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, scientists in Russia, Ukraine, Kazakhstan and Belarus were confronted with a new reality: They went from lives of privilege to poverty. Programs launched by the U.S. Departments of State and Energy brought financial support to Russia’s closed nuclear cities, showed the Russian nuclear workers that they had a future in non-weapons research – and that someone cared about their well-being.

“One thing that came out, talk after talk during this trip, was how important the social relationships were between the scientists; how they are absolutely crucial,” Hecker said. Those little-known relationships – many of which became enduring friendships that celebrate marriages and grandchildren – led to significant steps in the U.S.-Russian nuclear threat reduction program.

President Ronald Reagan used one of his signature phrases, “Trust, but verify,” when he and Soviet General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev signed the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty in 1987, eliminating nuclear and conventional ground-launched ballistic and cruise missiles with intermediate ranges. The phrase was taken from an old Russian proverb.

A year later, that proverb was put in effect with Hecker’s hand on the nuclear button at the Nevada test site for the Joint Verification Experiment.

“In August of ’88, the Soviets were at our test sites in Nevada and I was in the control room, essentially pushing the button to blow up one of our nuclear devices down hole, while the Russians had a cable that ran down the hole with which they were going to measure the magnitude of the nuclear explosion,” Hecker said. The following month, American scientists were in Russia to do the same.

“So I was sitting there in our control room, with the Russians right across the table from me,” he recalls. “That introduced us to the Russian nuclear scientists for the first time. You know what we said? These guys are just like us. They just want to do exactly the same thing for their country that we were doing for ours: keep their country safe and secure. And that started the process of working together.”

Today, the Russian proverb made famous by an American president could be turned on its head if the Russian-American nuclear collaboration is allowed to thrive: Verify through Trust.

Returning to her office in Pyongyang from a site visit to an agricultural development project one day last year, Katharina Zellweger had a revelation to share with her colleagues:

“I saw trees, bushes, upland rice, maize, berries, and all kinds of other crops planted on the hillsides!” she said.

Life in North Korea today is much more vibrant than the stark slopes and muted grey concrete buildings Zellweger encountered when she began traveling to North Korea in the mid-1990s. Day-to-day existence is still a struggle for many people, especially in the countryside, but Zellweger, who is the 2011–12 Pantech Fellow with Stanford’s Korean Studies Program, has watched positive change slowly ripple throughout the country for 17 years.

“If you have the patience and perseverance, and try to understand the country as well as you can, it is possible to do work there that is meaningful for the survival of the people and for the future of the country,” she said during a recent interview. 

Zellweger’s projects in North Korea began in 1995 while she worked for the Hong Kong office of Caritas Internationalis, a Catholic network of humanitarian organizations, and continued when she moved to Pyongyang to lead the efforts of the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation, a part of Switzerland’s Federal Department of Foreign Affairs. She lived in Pyongyang and interacted with North Koreans on a daily basis for five years until coming to Stanford in October 2011.

Since her earliest visits to North Korea, Zellweger has introduced ways to help alleviate the formidable problem of food scarcity and hunger. North Korea has always been a country of urban dwellers, she said, and the 60 percent of North Koreans who live in cities drain the countryside of its crops. In an effort to carve out new places to grow food during the toughest years, farmers have resorted to stripping hillsides of their trees. The solution is short-term and unsustainable, though, as the denuded slopes can only be planted for a few years, and it leads to soil erosion and flooding.

“If you do not have enough to eat and you are hungry, that is what people do,” Zellweger said. 

She and her team tackled the problem in one province with a simple solution. They taught rural housewives to plant bands of deep-root vegetation every 10 meters along cleared hillsides. The slopes are a “no man’s land” outside of the commune system, and the women have official permission to either keep what they harvest or sell it in the market for extra income. The environment also reaps big benefits from this sustainable agricultural method, which is catching on in more provinces.

“The last time I visited the project, the women told me that they now grow about 15 species of crops, whereas previously they only had one or two,” Zellweger said. “It has brought biodiversity back to those areas.”

Along with receptiveness to new farming techniques, North Koreans have also embraced certain technological developments. Even though the city and countryside are relatively cut off from one another, for example, cell phone tower transmissions now crisscross most of North Korea. Already one million of North Korea’s 24 million citizens own cell phones, and can find coverage in 75 percent of the country.

“Mobile telephones are not just in the big cities—even farm managers have them,” Zellweger said. “With that, communication has improved a lot among the North Korean people.” 

Some ripples of change have also penetrated North Korea’s educational system. English replaced Russian a few years ago as the main foreign language taught in school, Zellweger said, who smiled as she described the warbling greetings of school children who would sometimes approach her to test out their language skills.

“Years ago, I would not even have eye contact with people,” she said. “People would simply look down, and I would feel like thin air, as if I did not exist. That has gone—there is now a certain amount of natural curiosity.”

When she first began visiting North Korea, the Pyongyang Business School, a professional development project close to Zellweger’s heart, did not exist yet. Under her leadership, several groups of 30 to 35 mid-level managers and government officials had the opportunity to participate in a special diploma program. During each 12-month program cycle, lecturers from the Hong Kong Management Association flew monthly to Pyongyang to teach an intensive three-day seminar on subjects ranging from finance to management.

“The Hong Kong lecturers would say, ‘We could not have more diligent students,’” Zellweger said. “The feedback from the students was also very, very positive.”  

As Zellweger experienced during her 17 years working in North Korea, change may unfold gradually there but it does come. And for the positive development to grow even more transformative, she said, the basic needs of everyday North Koreans must be met. 

“When basic needs like food and medical care are covered, I believe things will start moving forward at a different pace,” Zellweger said. “There are 24 million people in North Korea who just want to lead a decent life, and who have the same dreams and hopes as we all have. That goes beyond any political issue.” 

Zellweger will give a talk on May 11 about her work and the change she witnessed in North Korea.

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