By John Q. Hosedrinker 
Kim Jong Un’s Wonsan Kalma resort, potentially one of the world’s largest beach resorts, is slated to open in June 2025. This massive project, delayed by sanctions and the COVID-19 pandemic, aims to boost North Korea’s tourism and project an image of power. However, experts question its viability, citing limited international appeal due to geopolitical tensions and North Korea’s unique limitations. While Russia may provide some tourism, the resort’s ultimate success hinges on attracting a sufficient number of visitors, both domestic and international. The project’s ultimate success remains uncertain, mirroring the broader complexities of North Korea’s economic and political landscape.
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Kim Jong Un’s ambitious plan to open a tourism mega-resort in North Korea presents a fascinating, if somewhat perplexing, scenario. The sheer scale of the undertaking, with its thousands of rooms, immediately raises the question: who exactly will fill them?
The most obvious potential sources of tourists are neighboring countries like Russia and China. These nations could provide a much-needed influx of international currency for North Korea’s struggling economy. However, even considering this, the enthusiasm of Chinese tourists is questionable, given the general lack of favor towards North Korea amongst the Chinese populace. Russian tourists might be more likely given closer proximity and geopolitical realities, but even then, the numbers are unlikely to fill thousands of rooms.
This leads to the strong possibility that the resort, like other North Korean mega-projects, is primarily a public works initiative. The construction itself provides employment and boosts the appearance of economic success, regardless of the resort’s actual occupancy rate. The official narrative could easily claim full capacity, regardless of reality.
Some have suggested humorous, albeit cynical, potential clientele. The idea of attracting American tourists who are drawn to authoritarian regimes is certainly provocative, particularly invoking the “Trump Resort” brand and the appeal to a certain segment of the American population. The resort might even appeal to those seeking a uniquely dystopian travel experience. The thought, however, is deeply ironic in its suggestion that the inherent dangers of the destination are what will attract some visitors.
The logistical challenges of operating such a resort are immense. North Korea’s persistent food shortages and general lack of culinary expertise create significant hurdles in providing a high-quality tourist experience. The resort’s advertised amenities would be severely tested by the country’s existing infrastructural limitations. In that sense, the whole operation feels more like a grand experiment that is unlikely to yield the desired results.
The idea of attracting influencers and TikTokers is another avenue suggested. There’s certainly a segment of social media personalities who might find the forbidden fruit of North Korea appealing, particularly given the unique, albeit heavily controlled, experiences they could film. They would be likely to generate media attention but also be constrained by the restrictions on content.
The mention of past attempts at ambitious construction projects that were left incomplete highlights the broader issues facing North Korea. The legacy of past failures and the ongoing human rights abuses cast a long shadow over any potential tourist ventures. The risk of arbitrary detention or worse significantly outweighs any perceived novelty the destination might offer.
The resort’s potential to be used as a cover for nefarious activities, such as hiding international criminals or using forced labor, adds another layer of complexity to the picture. Such activities, even if successful, further solidify the perception of North Korea as an unpredictable and unreliable location.
Consider also the possibility of the resort merely being a demonstration of power, a symbolic gesture rather than a functional enterprise. This theory aligns with the broader North Korean propensity for monumental displays that often lack practical functionality. The resort’s occupancy rates, therefore, might be less important than the image it projects.
Ultimately, whether Kim Jong Un will successfully fill the thousands of rooms in his new mega-resort is highly debatable. The factors working against its success are considerable, but the regime might choose to prioritize propaganda over profitability. The real question is not whether the resort will be full, but rather how the North Korean government will portray its success, regardless of the truth.