Grant at least this much to Kim Il Sung: he certainly knew how to go out with a bang. The last Stalinist dictator managed to die just when the parts of the world most unsympathetic to him would miss the ultimate totalitarian the most. A god-king to his own people, a monster to those he waged war on and a riddle to almost everyone else, the only leader that communist North Korea has ever known perished at such a delicate point of diplomacy that even his sternest ill-wishers were praying that it was not true. Late last week, as Radio Pyongyang nearly sobbed the announcement from a capital glum with rain, the news sent shock waves in widening circles from Seoul, Tokyo and Beijing to Washington, Geneva and the Group of Seven summit in Naples. "He was the greatest of the great men," intoned Radio Pyongyang. To the U.S. and others, he was merely a great, if unfortunate, necessity.
Kim's death, officially from heart seizure owing to blockage of an artery, came at a time when U.S. and North Korean negotiators were just beginning talks in Geneva on the dangerously mounting dispute over Pyongyang's nuclear program. The first session on Friday was "very useful and productive," according to U.S. team leader Robert Gallucci -- and then the report came of Kim's demise. The North Koreans asked for a suspension of talks, which the Americans understandingly gave. But what worried U.S. officials, including President Bill Clinton as he was awakened at 6:30 a.m. in Naples to hear the news, was who in North Korea or indeed on earth could be expected to command the authority that Kim had wielded in such matters.
The man styled by his police state for decades as the Great Leader had seemed to take personal charge of finding a way to end the showdown over accusations that his country was well on its way to building atom bombs. In his meeting last month with Jimmy Carter, Kim virtually overnight defused tensions by promising the former U.S. President that he would freeze the nuclear program. Washington then backed off from proposing economic sanctions to the U.N. and set in motion the new attempt at dialogue. The first-ever summit between North and South Korean leaders, slated for July 25, was another diplomatic triumph for the 82-year-old autocrat. The North has said it still wants to go ahead with the meeting, but with the Great Leader's funeral now scheduled for July 17, it will probably be postponed.
Internally, Kim's passing was definitely the end of an era. Foreign diplomats inside the country reported that children were breaking out spontaneously in tears and masses of stunned, flower-laden mourners were filing through the streets. Beyond that, though, the death also signaled a likely accession to power of the spectacularly mysterious Kim Jong Il, the Great Leader's son and anointed heir.
Would he venture peace, threats, war? Would he last for years, six months, six weeks? At a press conference in Naples, Clinton said he saw no reason to panic. Though South Korean President Kim Young Sam had ordered his forces on emergency alert just in case, Clinton said he agreed with Washington's top brass that events had revealed "no evident alarming change" and that nothing ) so far warranted beefing up the 35,000 U.S. forces now stationed in the South. Asked what he thought of Kim Jong Il's prospects, however, the President admitted, "I don't know how to answer that."