We do not know for sure whether the North Korean leader, Kim Jong-un, had his defence minister publicly executed using anti-aircraft weapons. Nor has it been confirmed that the minister, Hyon Yong-chol, is indeed dead, as reported by South Korean intelligence.
One thing is certain: the embattled North Korean leader will not be displeased that reports of Gen Hyon’s gruesome fate have been broadcast back to his countrymen as a warning to officers who think he is not up to the job. No doubt there are many who feel that way, but they will be keeping quiet.
Since taking over the inherited position of leader of the Workers' Party of Korea, Mr Kim has cut through his father's security chiefs to show who is boss. A lurid list of execution methods – including flame-throwers and mortars – have been reported by an eager South Korean media, with a focus on the physical destruction of the purged man's body. Gen Hyon's alleged crime is not known exactly. For sure he was caught on TV dozing during a military event attended by the leader. In the gangster world of North Korea, any sign of disrespect is punishable by death. He also went to Moscow and failed – not surprisingly – to secure an arms deal.
When Mr Kim’s uncle and second in command, Jang Song-thaek, was executed in 2013 one of the charges against him was that he clapped half-heartedly when Kim was elevated to a senior military position. Jang was said at the time to have been ripped apart by wild dogs, but that story has now been discredited.
These grisly stories have a perverse effect on the coverage of North Korea. They distract attention from an important fact: the Kim family is in charge of a nuclear arsenal that includes at least 12 weapons, with the ability to make more. Somehow a rogue regime, which is developing the ability to threaten its neighbours, cannot be taken seriously when court life appears stuck in the Middle Ages.
The fact is that North Korea is not really a country, more a grand opera directed by the Kim family, with the rest of the country as performers and extras. From the outside we see the starving population goose-stepping in formation across grand parade grounds or dancing in bright costumes with unnatural precision. Like any good plot, the opera needs some baddies who get their deserts in ways that make the flesh creep. Behind the gaudy backdrop at the opera house, women do the laundry in the river, thankful that they have avoided death by famine.
The operatic nature of the regime was displayed earlier this month when Mr Kim was photographed watching the firing of a submarine-launched missile, a major technical advance if true. There have been questions whether the image was digitally altered – the missile may not actually have been fired from a submarine. But no doubt the regime could, in five or 10 years, develop the technology, thus giving it the ability in principle to launch a nuclear warhead off the coast of the United States.
Policymakers face a unique test with North Korea. When a country has a proven nuclear capacity, outside powers think first of how to safeguard the technology and stop it spreading. When Pakistan was developing its nuclear bomb, the Americans devoted much energy to sharing know-how on preventing unauthorised launches. The guiding principle is to ensure stability in nuclear countries to prevent the devastating firepower being used or falling into the hands of madmen. But what if the technology is already in the hands of a regime with no limits?
At this point it is useful to recall the operatic showmanship of the North Korean regime. The impresarios behind the Pyongyang production live well and happily – though they get weirder with each passing generation – and their only desire is to stay in power. In this goal they have succeeded magnificently for the past 66 years, and now have a nuclear weapon to deter the type of regime change the Americans effected in Iraq in 2003. Unless the world misjudges them, Mr Kim seems no more likely to want to start a nuclear war, and thus be incinerated with his collection of basketball jerseys, than any other family.
That said, the defiance of the regime towards everyone, including its only ally, China, is reducing its options by the day. China was shocked when Jang was executed. The Beijing plan had been to initiate China-style economic reforms to alleviate the country’s desperate poverty. Mr Kim apparently saw this as a threat to the family’s rule. It cannot endlessly thumb its nose at the country that keeps the lights on and prevents mass starvation.
When the regime comes to an end is not clear. It may be that the reign of terror will have the desired effect and instil respect in the military for a few years to come. How it ends is somewhat clearer. For South Korea reunification is a long-term goal. Currently Seoul has closer relations with Beijing than Pyongyang does. The time will come when South Korea decides that China is a more useful ally than America, which has based troops there since the 1950s.
At that point, the path to reunification would be open. It would require US troops to withdraw over time. This would no doubt be seen as a sign of the decline of US power in Asia, though it would still have bases in Japan and Guam. But Washington could claim it had successfully defended its ally against communism and the mission was over.
For the moment this happy outcome for the Korean peninsula is still in the future. But at some stage the curtain must fall on the Pyongyang opera, and it will require China, the US and the South Koreans to work very closely together.
Alan Philps is a commentator on global affairs
On Twitter @aphilps
