Recently, I watched several testimonies from North Korean defectors on YouTube. As they described the perilous journey of escape and their eventual arrival at Incheon International Airport, one shared experience stood out as deeply moving to all of them: the warm words spoken by the National Intelligence Service (NIS) officers who welcomed them.
“Welcome. You have endured much to come to the Republic of Korea. Your homeland, the Republic of Korea, welcomes you wholeheartedly.”
Not a single defector remained unmoved by those words. They testified almost unanimously: “In North Korea, people like us—the lowest in society—are never treated with respect. But the moment we heard those words, the fear we carried in our hearts—what if even South Korea treats us the same way?—melted away. In that instant, we understood why we had risked our lives to escape North Korea and come all the way to South Korea. It became absolutely clear that the Republic of Korea is the country where I can live with dignity as a human being.”
A first impression is often a lasting impression. Having received such a powerful initial assurance that their country respected them, these individuals are likely to live the rest of their lives as devoted citizens.
Human beings are loyal to those who recognize and affirm them. Even domesticated animals follow those who care for them. The most effective way to earn respect from others is to show respect to them first. Leaders, therefore, have a responsibility to respect those who follow them. Expecting others to understand our hearts 100% is unrealistic. There is even a saying, “I don’t fully understand my own heart,” so how could another person possibly grasp it completely and respond exactly as we wish? The first step toward genuine partnership is respect. Despite our obvious differences, we must begin by honoring one another.
What is especially striking, however, is another part of the defectors’ testimonies. They also said, “The same NIS officers who welcomed us so warmly exercised an unapproachable charisma as they guided and directed us until we reached the intelligence facilities. Through that authority, we realized that the Republic of Korea is not a country to be taken lightly.” More importantly, this display of authority did not instill fear in these newly arrived defectors. Instead, it gave them a sense of security—a reassurance that they had truly arrived in the right place.
Had the NIS officers shown only warmth, they would never have won the hearts of the defectors. At the same time, without firm and disciplined authority, those who had survived the terror of North Korean border guards and the threats of Chinese security forces might have lost order and attempted to test or manipulate their escorts. If events had unfolded that way, proper screening of defectors would have been impossible, and North Korea could have exploited the situation by sending spies disguised as refugees. In such a scenario, the greatest victims would have been the defectors themselves and the Republic of Korea.
To respect others does not mean becoming spineless or overly accommodating. A spineless person can never be a leader. Without the firmness to say “No” and draw clear boundaries, no organization can be led effectively. In his book on leadership, Kim Bong-jun identifies the integration of firmness and compassion as an essential quality for every leader.
From a physical standpoint, ice and fire cannot coexist in the same container. Either the ice will melt, or the fire will be extinguished. Yet human character cannot be explained by such physical limitations. A leader must be capable of holding both heart-warming compassion and frost-sharp firmness at the same time. The ability to embrace opposing and even contradictory qualities is precisely what makes effective leadership possible.
The classical story of Eupcham Masok (泣斬馬謖) illustrates this truth. Zhuge Liang, recognizing the immense potential of his beloved subordinate Ma Su, nevertheless held him fully accountable for his failure, ordered his execution, and then collapsed in tears at the site. Without this kind of leadership—one that combines strict accountability with deep human sorrow—we become either cruel dictators or ineffective, overly lenient figures. Neither can move people’s hearts or inspire loyalty to a shared organizational mission.
I am reminded of a story I heard more than twenty years ago at a John Maxwell leadership conference: “To manage an organization effectively, those who achieve results must be rewarded, and those who cause harm must be disciplined. Yet in many churches, instead of rewarding those who perform well, we simply praise God; and instead of appropriately correcting those who fail, we say ‘It’s okay’ and move on. There is a reason why the effectiveness of church ministry continues to weaken.”