Inside Ryugyong Hotel, The Pyramid of Pyongyang or the Palace of Promises?

Beautifully dressed in mirrored glass but eerily silent, the Ryugyong Hotel looms like a giant mirage at the heart of Pyongyang’s skyline, where ambition once reached heights beyond what economics could support. Decades after it was first intended to represent a country’s transition to modernity, it is still one of the tallest vacant buildings on the planet.

North Korea saw the Ryugyong as a defiant response to South Korea’s growing international prominence during the Cold War rivalry. The ambitious plan was to construct a 105-story pyramid-shaped skyscraper with more than 3,000 rooms and five rotating restaurants when construction started in 1987. It would have casinos, nightclubs, opulent suites, and even Japanese lounges. However, the pages of its legacy are still being written, frequently in whispers, much like a great novel that has been left unfinished.

Ryugyong Hotel (WordPress-Compatible Information Table)

Feature	Details
Location	Pyongyang, North Korea
Height	330 meters (1,080 ft)
Floors	105 above ground, 3 underground
Total Floor Area	360,000 m² (3.9 million ft²)
Construction Started	1987
Work Halted	1992 (resumed in 2008)
Exterior Completion	2011
Estimated Investment	~$750 million (approx. 2% of North Korea’s GDP)
Architect	Baikdoosan Architects & Engineers
Current Status	Unfinished and unopened
Official Site	ryugyonghotel.com

A Visionary Architecture That Exceeded Reality

The Ryugyong was not constructed merely for show. It was also a strategic beacon by combining neo-futurist engineering and design at scale. North Korea wanted to show off its architectural skills and entice Western investors. However, the project was put on hold when the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, causing a national economic crisis. By 1992, the building was completely sealed in silence, encased only in the echoes of its promise, and standing topped out.

It was a ghostly presence for almost twenty years. With a single crane rusting atop its peak and its concrete spine exposed to Pyongyang’s severe winters, the tower was reduced to the architectural equivalent of a piano without all of its keys—majestic but tragically unfinished.

A New Concept for a Ghost Tower

The story changed in the last fifteen years. Work quietly resumed after the arrival of Orascom, the Egyptian telecom behemoth, in 2008. Telecommunications antennas were installed, the façade was covered in sleek glass, and in 2018, a massive LED panel turned one side of the tower into a colorful digital canvas. Once silent, the building started to speak through its lights, showcasing national messages, patriotic animations, and propaganda.

Even though this makeover was incredibly successful at changing people’s perceptions, it didn’t solve the lobby’s biggest problem: Ryugyong still has unfinished interiors. Elevators aren’t functional. There is no furniture in the guest rooms. No visitor has ever placed a room service order from inside the building.

It’s not a hotel. Not just yet. However, something completely different

Now, Ryugyong provides symbolism rather than hospitality. By utilizing its digital capabilities and visibility, North Korea transformed its tallest embarrassment into a resilient LED display. The irony is powerful: instead of promoting leisure, a building designed for luxury now promotes ideology.

However, there’s something intriguing about the Ryugyong’s rise to fame in the media—not because of what it is, but rather because of what it isn’t. YouTubers, Reddit detectives, and urban explorers keep delving deeper into its mythology. From the “Hotel of Doom” to the “Phantom Pyramid,” journalists have given it many names. Few, however, contest its existence. Even though it is more sculpture than structure, it is unquestionably one of the most recognizable buildings in modern architectural history.

Is This Tower Able to Live Up to Its Promise?

That is the question that looms over the tower like a cloud. Some experts contend that it might be saved, particularly by forming strategic alliances with international developers. Others estimate that it would cost more than $2 billion to complete, which is a financial hurdle that North Korea isn’t yet ready to face.

However, there might still be hope in a post-pandemic world where hybrid-use buildings are becoming more popular. Ryugyong’s future might be reframed rather than rewritten if it were to change course and become a museum, communications center, and event space.

A Monument to Hope and Perseverance

In spite of the jokes, the mockery, and the widespread skepticism, the Ryugyong Hotel has come to represent something more profound than failure. When ambition is separated from sustainability, it becomes fragile. Nevertheless, the building keeps changing, indicating that even after decades of stagnation, change is still achievable.

The Ryugyong is one of the few megastructures that makes us balance politics and design, as well as infrastructure and vision. The question is not only whether the hotel will open, but also if the world will ever be prepared to enter.