North Korean Economy Watch

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
10/28/2005

North Korea of 2005 is on a crossroad. Its people are not sure where to go, and its government tries hard to stay in control. But things are changing, the 50-odd years of Juche-style Stalinism are over or almost over. The long decease is not over yet, but there are clear signs of recovery. It has a future. This future is unlikely to be easy, but the country began its slow move forward.

It was a perfect sunny October day here. It was my first visit in two decades. I stood on the city’s main street, not far away from Kim Il Sung University which I attended 20 years ago, and was looking around.

A small crowd near the Chinese Embassy wall attracted my attention. People were carefully studying something inside a large window on the wall: some finished and went away, only to be replaced by others. Of course, I came closer.

The people’s attention was attracted by the pictures which were put into the Chinese Embassy’s “information window”. The pictures were large and colorful, but otherwise absolutely unremarkable. The photos and captions were no different from the stuff the cultural attaches across the globe put on the walls of their embassies – the usual boring fare about growth of shrimp production, new computer classes and state-of-the-art chicken farms. However, in North Korea of 2005 such mundane matters would attract a crowd. Those pictures gave a glimpse of the overseas life.

This small episode was a sign of what was in the air in North Korea of 2005: people are eager to learn more about the outside world. They are less afraid to show their interest in what once was forbidden knowledge, and they are increasingly uncertain about the future.

At a superficial glance, it feels as if the entire city has remained frozen in time since the mid-1980s. On my first day, I walked some 5-7 km across the downtown, and had no reason to worry that I might loose my way. All old buildings were still there, and very few structures appeared over those two decades.

The North Korean capital is still the same city of somewhat dilapidated Soviet-style apartment projects (with traditional huts hidden inside the blocks), nearly absent traffic, uniformed police girls on the crossroads, and crowds dressed in the old good “Mao suits”.

As a matter of fact, “crowds” might be an exaggeration. The city felt empty, and at all probability it was half-empty in those days. As part of the regular mobilization program, most of its population was sent to the countryside to work at the fields or to join the “battle for harvest” as this rather mundane operation is known in North Korea.

Like other socialist economies, North Korea has serious troubles with agriculture, and the townsfolk is required to provide manpower for the farms twice a year, during planting and harvesting.

However, this impression of unchanged city is misleading. The conversations with people clearly demonstrate that over those decades Pyongyang has changed – or rather its people has changed. It was the same city, but a different society.

People were frank – not as frank as they would probably be in most other countries, of course, but still much franker than in past.

When none of our supervisors was hanging around, it was possible to strike a meaningful conversation with a North Korean. And in a matter of minutes the conversation would slide to issues nobody was insane enough to approach 20 years ago.

People wanted to know how the life overseas looks like. They asked about salaries and prices, travel and housing. Well, these questions might sound a bit too materialistic for some of our readers.

Perhaps, but the North Korean government has always insisted that it is second to none when it comes to meeting material demands of the populace. And it seems that the North Koreans are beginning to feel doubts about truthfulness of these long-standing claims.

There are good reasons for such doubts. Even grossly privileged Pyongyang does not look like a rich city, to put it mildly. Of course, statistics about the large and growing gap between two Koreas (approximately 20-fold if per capita GDP is used) is widely known, but it is altogether different matter to see this disparity with one’s own eyes.

However, one cannot see Pyongyang as really impoverished. The serious poverty could be encountered in the countryside.

We could catch a glimpse of it on our way to the city of Kaesong. Compared to destitute north-eastern provinces, this is still the privileged part of the country, but the picture was disturbing.

The Pyongyang-Kaesong highway is a road of reasonable quality (albeit with bad paving), but it was completely empty, with hardly a dozen vehicles encountered over hundred kilometers.

There were almost no signs of agricultural machines in the fields, with harvesting made by bare hands of farmers and city dwellers who are mobilized to join the “battle for the harvest”.

The landscape was free from all those intrusive details of modern civilization which so often annoy tourists (of course, the tourists assume that they would have access to such amenities back home).

No mobile phone antennas, few motor vehicles, very few powerlines. Sometimes it was easy to imagine oneself transported back to the times of Tang Empire when the kings of Silla dynasty ruled the Korean peninsula.

This might be a good feeling, of course – as long as one does not think too much about people who have to live in this “romantic” area under nearly medieval conditions.

And these people looked bad – worse, actually, than 20 years ago when a motor harvester was still a usual sight in a North Korean paddy field. People in the countryside were undernourished, badly dressed, their brown seemed faces covered with deep wrinkles.

Kaesong was clearly one large step down the North Korean hierarchy of prosperity (or lack thereof). It was strange to think that we were merely two hours drive from the hyper-modern and affluent Seoul – and the sight of Kaesong makes one think about the likely impact which the unavoidable “discovery” of South Korean affluence will have on those destitute people.

It also makes to have second thoughts about unification – it is difficult to imagine how those destitute farmers will find the common ground with their brethren from another side of the border. They will do it somehow, no doubt, but adjustment is bound to be painful.

However, in spite of all destitution there are many reasons for hope. Within those days we managed to meet quite a few Western businessmen quietly operating in North Korea. In order to succeed in this strange and often treacherous environment, one should remain silent and as press-shy as possible, but there is a number of the foreign businesses operating there.

The businesspeople are surprisingly optimistic about ongoing changes and about the country’s future: they talk about great transformation they witnessed over the last few years. The private economy is growing fast and the local people are hard-working and full of initiative.

The officials are increasingly corrupt, of course, but this is not necessarily bad: if they are willing to accept kickbacks, they do not care that much about following the official regulations which often are remarkably unreasonable.

Of course, the growth of market economy does not mean only good things. One of few visual changes easily noticeable in Pyongyang was an increase in social inequality. Back in the 1980s, it was not that difficult to tell an official from a humble commoner. Officials were dressed better, and sported leather shoes while the commoner had the cloth-and-plastic footwear. However, the difference was not as pronounced as it is now when on the Pyongyang street there is a small minority (few percent, perhaps) of people whose dress would not be out of place somewhere in downtown Seoul.

Sometimes, things old and things new go hand in hand. In one of the companies we visited, I spotted what is probably the worst example of comically exaggerated propaganda I’ve ever seen (and somebody dealing with North Korea for 20-odd years has seen a lot of comically exaggerated propaganda).

The hand-written poster explained why Kim Jong-il was superior to all other great minds of the humanity: “Marx was 28 years old when he founded The Communists’ Union; Lenin was 25 years old when he founded The Working Class Liberation Union; but the Dear Leader was 11 years old when he founded the Group to study the strategy of General Kim Il Sung!”

The same place also had a floor plan which demonstrated what the Great Leader did when he visited the company back in the 1980s – the plan signs indicated where the great man stood for a minute and which path he followed while moving from one desk to another. However, the same factory was also a place where we saw the most rational manager, whose speech was remarkably free from all kinds of usual demagogy. This lady in her 50s spoke like any manager, from Alaska to Madagascar would probably talk to visitors.

Andrei Lankov is a bottomless pit of information:

Until around 1990 markets and private trade played a moderate role in North Korean society. Most people were content with what they were officially allocated through the public distribution system, and did not want to look for other opportunities. The government also did its best to suppress the capitalist spirit. The rations were not too generous, but they were sufficient for survival.

The collapse of the USSR brought a sudden end to the flow of the Soviet aid.  But men still felt bound to their jobs by their obligations and rations (distributed through work places). Being used to the stability of the previous decades, the North Koreans saw the situation as a temporary crisis that soon would be overcome, somehow. No doubt, they reasoned, one day everything will go back to the “normal” (that is, Stalinist) state of affairs. So men are better off in keeping their jobs, that way they will be able to continue their careers after the eventual “normalization” of the situation. The ubiquitous “organizational life” also played its role: a North Korean adult is required to attend endless indoctrination sessions and meetings, and these requirements are harsher for males.

Women had enjoyed much more freedom. By the standard of Communist countries North Korea has always had an unusually high percentage of housewives among married women. While in most other Communist countries married women were required and pressed to continue work after marriage, in North Korea the government did not really mind when married women quit their jobs to become full-time housewives.

Thus, when the economic crisis began, women were the first to take up market activities of all kinds. In some cases they began selling household items they could do without, or selling homemade food. Eventually, these activities developed into larger businesses. While men went to their plants (which by the mid-1990s had usually ceased operation) women plunged into the market activity.

This tendency was especially pronounced among low- and middle-income families. The elite received rations even through the famine years of 1996-1999, so women of North Korea’s “top 5 percent” usually continued with their old lifestyle. Nonetheless, some of them began to use their ability to get goods cheaply. Quite often wives of high-level cadres are involved in the resale of merchandise first purchased from their husbands’ factories at the cheap official prices. But for them this was a way to move from being well-off to being rich. The lesser folks had to do something just to stay alive.

Indeed, the change in gender roles during the famine years is only a part of the gradual changes in the Korean family, and these changes are surprisingly similar in the North and South. But that is another story…

Christian Science Monitor
Donald Kirk
10/4/2005

Its South Korean funders say it offers potential for cultural exchange. But the monk who oversees it readily admits no North Koreans may visit.

As they lead visitors along a trail below craggy rocks inscribed with praise for the late “Great Leader” Kim Il Sung, young North Korean guides offer a carefully crafted narrative.

They criticize President Bush. They take on US policy. And last weekend, they appeared eager to denounce the dismissal of Kim Yoon Kyu, who is currently under investigation for fraud. The South Korean executive worked for more than 10 years to develop this unusual tourist zone on the east coast several miles above the demilitarized zone that separates North and South Korea.

“We are willing to reduce the number of tourists coming here as an expression of our confidence in him,” says Koo Eun Hyun, a smiling 20-year-old, repeating the North’s demand for reinstatement of Mr. Kim as president of Hyundai Asan, part of the Hyundai group, which is investing $1 billion in building the complex.

Mr. Kim led the project, now subsidized by the South Korean government, from the time the first shiploads of visitors sailed from South Korea seven years ago. Tourists now travel by newly paved road, and Hyundai Asan in June announced the millionth visitor – far short of the 5 million it had hoped for.

Indeed, the project loses vast amounts of money, and is likely to lose still more. The standoff over Kim’s dismissal is escalating amid a South Korean investigation into alleged fraud in economic projects in the North – including whether some funds wound up in the hands of North Korean officials – prompting the North to cut the quota of tourists from 1,200 to 600 a day.

Perhaps as a result, Kim Young Hyun, a Hyundai Asan vice president, prefers to talk about a $10 million project, largely funded by South Korea and Hyundai Asan, to rebuild a Buddhist temple complex inside the zone that was largely destroyed in the Korean War. “Buddhism is traditionally the religion for Koreans,” he says. “Cultural exchange can be the foundation of economic exchange.”

The Venerable Jejeong, the scholarly South Korean monk who oversees the complex readily admits that North Koreans are banned from the complex, just as they are from the rest of the zone, except when they come to work. Those few North Koreans on the site, he says, “ask questions about history but do not ask other questions.”

In fact, he says, he’s never talked to North Koreans outside the zone and has no idea how freely – or if – they can practice their religion. Still, he shares the optimism of South Korean authorities about the future.

“We can minimize the differences and find common ground,” says Mr. Jejeong, who has practiced Buddhism in Thailand and San Francisco. “Currently our educational systems are completely different. North Koreans are not interested in religion.”

Jejeong places his hopes for opening the temple to worship “after unification.” He cites an easing of religious restraints in China. “The North Koreans may be influenced by China indirectly,” he muses.

In the meantime, the temple serves as a monument to North Korean propaganda. A plaque in front of the skeletal outlines of new buildings says that Kim Il Sung and his wife, the mother of current leader Kim Jong Il, visited on Sept. 28, 1947. The plaque blames the leveling of the complex on US bombing.

But for now, North Koreans would rather prove their authority over Hyundai Asan than hark back to the war. Tourists who visit traipse along a few familiar trails, attend an acrobatic performance, dip into baths fed by hot springs and dine in modern restaurants, all closed to North Koreans seen toiling with ancient implements in the fields beyond the wire.

They listen as guides extol the beauties of the region, all under the watchful gaze of North Koreans as anxious to parrot policy as to impose fines for littering.

“We regard [Hyundai Asan’s] Kim Yoon Kyu as a pioneer,” says Miss Koo. “We sacrifice profits for the sake of friendship.”

Los Angeles Times
Barbara Demick
10/3/2005

North Korea Reinstates Controls on Grain Sales Rice and other foods will be distributed by the government and banned at markets.

Rolling back some of its economic reforms, North Korea is banning the sale of rice and other grains at private markets and strengthening its old communist-style public distribution system under which all citizens are supposed to get rations, aid groups and North Korea experts say.

The changes were supposed to be implemented Oct. 10, a holiday in North Korea marking the 60th anniversary of the ruling Workers’ Party. But reports from the World Food Program office in Pyongyang, the capital, indicate that merchants have been told already that they can no longer sell grain.

The United Nations agency said in a statement on its website that “as of Oct. 1, reports are that cereal sales in the markets will cease and public distribution centers will take over countrywide distribution.”

North Korea experts say the moves do not necessarily indicate an abrupt U-turn in the impoverished country’s economic policies, so much as concern that change was taking place too quickly.

“I think it is a transitional necessity. You can’t move too fast into free—market economics without softening the blow for people who have grown up in a planned economy,” Richard Ragan, who heads the World Food Program office in Pyongyang, said in a recent telephone interview. “This is not that different from what you saw happening in China in the 1990s.”

Lee Young Hwa, a Japan—based human rights worker who has close contacts with traders at the Chinese—North Korean border, believes the new restrictions on markets are designed to boost the power of the Workers’ Party and curb the role of the military in the economy.

“The military people control the food sold at the market. Nobody else has the trucks or the access to gasoline to move food around the country. The leadership fears that their economic reforms aren’t working because everything is controlled by the military, and they want to take back control,” Lee said.

For years, there have been accusations that the military was pilfering humanitarian shipments of rice and other aid, keeping the best for its own and selling the rest at markets. Secretly taped video footage obtained last year by human rights workers shows apparently unopened sacks of rice given by the U.S. and other donors being sold illegally at a market in the northern city of Chongjin.

On the open market, a pound of rice costs 15 to 25 cents — an impossible sum for many North Koreans, whose average salary of $1 per month keeps them on the verge of starvation.

Under the new rules, rice, as well as other staples such as corn, is to be sold at public distribution centers at subsidized prices and in rationed quantities. Markets, which have been gradually legalized since 2002, will still be permitted to sell vegetables, produce, clothing and other goods.

Cho Myong Chol, a former North Korean economist who lives in Seoul, said he believed North Korea would continue with market reforms but at a slower pace. “Since the economic reforms in 2002, the gap between the haves and the have—nots has become so extreme that there is an imbalance that is causing social unrest and dissatisfaction. I think they needed to do something about food to keep control.”

It remains to be seen whether the changes will help ordinary North Koreans. The government recently informed U.N. aid officials that it was cutting back their operations and no longer needed large donations of rice and other foodstuffs. Experts believe North Korea is concerned about the U.N. ‘s monitoring requirements and prefers direct aid from countries such as South Korea and China, which place fewer restrictions on donations.

Until the 1990s, the public distribution system introduced by North Korean founder Kim Ii Sung was the hallmark of a nation that claimed to provide its people with everything from rice to shoes. But the system collapsed in the early l990s, exacerbating a famine that killed an estimated 2 million people — about 10% of the population. The public distribution system still operates, but at reduced capacity.

Although North Koreans today buy much of what they need at markets, the government doesn’t like to admit it and insists that the cradle—to—grave system of social welfare remains.

“We are still a communist country. Nothing has changed. I get everything I need through the public distribution system,” said Yoon So Jung, 25, a guide interviewed last week at Mt. Kumgang, one of the few areas of the country open for tourism.

But pressed about her pink windbreaker, Yoon admitted hesitantly, “Well that, I bought at the market.”

From NK zone:

China and North Korea have signed a 50-year agreement that will give the Chinese border city of Hunchun exclusive rights over the North Korean port of Rajin, according to Chinese and South Korean reports.

The deal is seen as a boost to this underdeveloped region of China and to Hunchun in particular which is about 80 km inland on the Tumen river. It also envisages that Hunchun will establish a 5-10 sq km industrial zone in Rajin and for a highway to be built between the two cities.

A Chinese-language report posted last month describes how Hunchun, although it was given border trade rights with North Korea as long ago as 1986 and was made an “open city” in 1992, has seen little benefit from these privileges, despite national, provincial and local level investment totalling five billion yuan ($600 mln) as part of the Tumen River Development Zone. The report says this resulted in an economic bubble in the early 90s, with vast numbers of half-built factories, offices and roads and a border bridge that was never completed.

The aim has long been for Hunchun to have access to a nearby port in North Korea or Russia and to dredge the Tumen river, but the report says that while it has reached a navigation agreement with Russia it had failed to reach agreement with the DPRK. It also notes that dredging would have serious environmental implications (doesn’t enlarge on this but see below). It adds that plenty of landlocked countries are economically highly successful and that there are plenty of other cases “leasing ports to reach the sea”.

Thus even before the Rajin deal was signed there were hopes that Hunchun would in the next 10 years become the most advanced city in the Yanbian region after the capital, Yanji and eventually become the “Rotterdam of the north[east?!].”

Anyhow the agreement with Rajin has of course been greeted as a great victory and comes as the Tumen River Area Development Programme agreed to extend its 1995 Agreement on the establishment of a Consultative Commission for a further ten years and to expand its geographical reach to include the three Northeastern provinces and Inner Mongolia in China, the Rason Economic and Trade Zone of DPRK, eastern provinces of Mongolia, eastern port cities in South Korea and part of the Primorsky territory of Russia.
However, another Chinese report is sceptical about the deal which it says also involves construction of a 67-km highway and plans for the Rajin area to become a processing zone for Chinese goods which will then be reexported to southeast China.

It quotes a Jilin province commerce bureau official as saying as saying only time will tell whether it will achieve its aims, and also cites an unnamed professor from the Jilin Academy of Social Sciences as saying that North Korea’s ports, railways, roads, power and water networks and communications are extremely backward and badly maintained and development has also suffered from the “instability of [North Korean] government policy.”

The deal with North Korea follows failure to reach a similar agreement with a Russian port. The People’s Daily reported in 2003 that the Russian Ministry of Communications was opposed to a proposed 49-year deal with either the port of Zarubino or Posyet, both just over the Chinese border, because it viewed the Chinese as having territorial designs on the region, which China of course denies.

The Chinese article about the Rajin deal also gives some figures for Jilin’s border trade. It says this totalled $250 mln last year, consisting of $80.07 mln worth of exports to North Korea and $114.5 mln in imports (presumably the rest consists of trade with Russia, etc). Main exports consisted of machinery, grain and flour, textiles, steel, cars and coal. “Because the railways and other means of transport are poor and there are long delays, this was bad for our province’s exports of coal, grain and other bulk items,” the Jilin commerce bureau official said, adding that transport was the main factor impeding the province’s foreign trade.

A Chinese report posted last December says Hunchun officials had visited Pyongyang several times in the last year and had found North Korean officials eager to improve road and sea communications in order to create a “northeastern golden triangle.” It says leasing a nearby port across the border is the best option, and mentions a South Korean clothing company which saved much money and time by switching to Zarubino port in Russia (only 70 km from the border) from far away Dalian in China.

It adds that there are plans for an export-oriented abattoir at Hunchun with a capacity of 200,000 cattle and sheep per year. It also says Hunchun expected to handle $220 mln worth of foreign trade last year and in January-October 2004 it handled 172,300 tonnes of imports and exports, up 7.9% over 2003.  A North Korean trade official gave the Rajin zone his blessing in 1999, as did a professor of economics from Kim Il Sung University.

Development of the area would no doubt improve living standards, but it would also have serious environmental implications. the Tumen Development Programme notes that the Hunchun Border Economic Cooperation Zone was established in 1992 without an environmental impact assessment (EIA). “Since then, considerable investment has taken place and Hunchun’s population has multiplied many-fold, with serious implications for nearby wetlands and other ecosystems.” It adds that “in 1999, the Tumen Programme undertook a long-overdue EIA of the Zone to meet international (World Bank) standard and serve as a model for other development areas in the Tumen Region.”

Eastern Siberia and the Chinese border are is the last remaining stronghold of the Siberian (or Manchurian) tiger and it is also has crucial sites for a large number of bird species including about 50 species listed in the international red book of endangered species.

The Hunchun area is where most NK refugees cross into China, so economic development would presumably make North Koreans less likely to flee their miserably poor country, though improved communications may make it easier for them to do so…

The famous or infamous Emperor casino is also not far away. As NKZ readers will doubtless recall it was closed in January after a Chinese crackdown against gambling as its clientele was entirely Chinese. Little has been heard about it since though the management are apparently hoping to attract Europeans to replace the Chinese, not sure that habitués of London casinos are likely to be greatly tempted… Am also told that the Emperor isn’t totally closed but it does have extremely few customers.

Anyhow its two websites are still up, click here for the Chinese one and here for the Hong Kong one.

According to a Chinese report, Chinese gamblers are now flooding into Vladivostok following the closure of the Emperor (so much for the crackdown against gambling in border casinos…)

Christian Science Monitor
9/22/2005

A predictable master of surprise, North Korea stunned the world Monday by agreeing to give up its nuclear weapons program. But to seal the deal by pinning down the difficult details, it’s necessary to ask what’s really motivating the hermit nation.

North Korea won’t make it easy for itself in fulfilling this pact. Within 24 hours after the “consensus statement” was inked by North Korea and five other governments (US, China, Japan, Russia, South Korea), the North – contrary to the agreement – proclaimed it would abandon its nuclear program only after it’s been given a new light-water reactor for producing electricity. That could mean it would be able to keep producing nuclear weapons for years. The North will also probably resist on-the-ground verification of its nuclear program – and the few bombs presumably already produced; the regime of Kim Jong Il hardly lets foreigners run around freely.

The US and China, as erstwhile partners in trying to denuke North Korea, must keep reminding Mr. Kim why he needs – and probably wants – to live up to this agreement, and quickly: His Stalinist command economy, which has been closed to the world for half a century, faces collapse and possibly another famine like the one in the mid-1990s, when some 2 million people died.

Kim, who titles himself Dear Leader, appears to know his own political survival is on the line. In 2001, he was invited to China and saw how that communist regime has been able to stay in power while allowing a market economy to thrive. The next year he freed up prices and wages, and loosened many government controls over businesses and individuals.

Local farmers markets have since sprung up, and small service shops are appearing in cities. Last year, a new dictionary was issued, and for the first time it contained the phrase “market economy” (which is a communist way of saying capitalism).

But the reforms were done badly. The nation now has spiraling inflation. Its economy has contracted for the past three years. Great gaps in wealth are appearing, even as North Korea’s economy remains a fraction of the size of South Korea’s. The 70 percent of the population that still relies on government food has seen their rations greatly reduced.

Last spring, the reform-minded prime minister, Pak Pong-ju, visited China and was spirited to Shanghai, where he saw the missing element for North Korea’s economy: foreign investment and an influx of hard currency. He went back and told bureaucracy to learn about foreign markets and trade. The universities began to teach market basics, such as supply and demand.

But to improve its shaky experiment in capitalism, North Korea needs to stop scaring away potential foreign investors with its nuclear belligerence and abandon its long-held ideology of juche, or self-reliance. Both steps are risky for a dictator who has blinded his people to the world around them.

The Bush administration has probably bought into China’s strategy of dangling economic benefits before Kim to get him to denuclearize. Withholding those benefits will be necessary if further talks falter.

Once bitten, though, the capitalist apple may be too tempting for Dear Leader.

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
9/13/2005

One can imagine how the friends and relatives of Min Yong-mi, a 35 year old housewife, were shocked to learn in June 1998 that the woman was detained as a South Korean special agent who had undergone special training and snuck herself into the North to destabilize the North Korean government.

What did earn the woman, an otherwise quite typical South Korean ajuma, a mother of two children, such a James Bond style reputation? Obviously, few comments she made on June 20, 1999, when talking to a guide while on tour in the Kumgang Mountains.

Actually, the description of what happened at 1:40 pm differ. All reports agree that the entire affair began when Mrs. Min asked a North Korean tour guide or “environmental inspector” how to read a rare Chinese character in one of the names of the Buddha that was carved on a rock. The “inspector” (in all probability, a plain clothes policemen) did not know the character as well. The conversation followed.

According to one version, Mrs. Min merely said that after unification the guide would be able to meet her in Seoul. However, it is more likely that the talk was far less innocent. Obviously, somehow Mrs. Min and her guide began to talk about defectors to the South (still a relatively small group in those days). Mrs. Min assured her North Korean interlocutor that the defectors were doing all right. The guide expressed his disbelief and said that all defectors are sentenced to hard labor. Mrs. Min assured him that this was not the case and said something like “If you come to the South, you will see for itself.” According to another version, she said something more moderate, to the effect that defectors were getting by quite well in the South.

Whatever the case, she was ordered to surrender her provisional ID and pay a fine of $100. Realizing that she was in trouble, Mrs. Min complied immediately, but it was too late. She was detained, accused of subversive propaganda, and spent about a week in detention, being interrogated by officers who arrived from Pyongyang.

The detention of Mrs. Min was the first crisis in the history of the Kumgang Project, then as now the largest joint operation of the two Koreas, a showcase of economic cooperation between the two governments.

The project was conceived in 1989, when Chung Ju-yung, the founder of the Hyundai Group, visited North Korea for the first time. One of the schemes briefly discussed in 1989 was an idea of a large tourist park in the North, to be patronised by South Korean tourists. The park was to be located in the Kumgang (“Diamond”) Mountains which for centuries have been regarded in Korean culture as an embodiment of scenic beauty. The mountains conveniently lay near the DMZ, the border between two Korean states.

It took, however, a decade and some major political changes to start the project moving. It was only in November 1998 that the Kumgang Mountain Tourist Project began to operate.

The idea was simple. The North Koreans created a type of ghetto for the South Korean visitors. A part of the Kumgang Mountains was fenced off, and the local population was moved away. The South Korean tourists took a cruise ship to the area. The ship moored in a local harbour, while the visitors went on mountain walks and sight-seeing trips.

This clever scheme solved the greatest problem Pyongyang saw in its interactions with the South – the problem of information flow. The North Korean commoners are supposed to believe that their South Korean brethren are suffering under the cruel yoke of the US imperialists. Understandably, their government does not want them to know that the per capita GNP in the South is 20 to 30 times higher than in the North. In the Kumgang Mountain Project the rich Southerners were kept out of sight of the average North Koreans, being accompanied only by a handful of carefully selected minders.

However, there always was a threat that South Koreans would do something improper. They were instructed before their trip not to talk politics at all. But how could those spoilt people from a decadent bourgeoisie society be trusted to behave themselves? A subject lesson in obedience was needed.

Some circumstances make us suspect that the entire affair was prepared in advance, and that the guide was deliberately provoking Mrs. Min. However, this is likely to remain uncertain until the collapse of the North Korean regime and the de-classification of their documents. It is still probable that Mrs. Min was simply unlucky. But it is clear that the North Korean side expected something like it to happen.

Mrs. Min’s ordeal lasted for a week. Pyongyang radio claimed her as a South Korean spy, the tours were suspended for a time, and frantic diplomatic activity ensued. Mrs. Min was released after six days of detention, to spend some time in hospital. But the North Korean authorities had attained their goal: they demonstrated that tourists are better to mind their tongues while enjoying the scenic beauties of the Kumgang area.

There were more detentions of South Korean tourists, none of which received comparable publicity. But the lesson had been given, and South Koreans learned to behave themselves.

The Mrs. Min incident contributed to the ongoing crisis of the Kumgang project. This crisis came to a climax in spring 2001 when the tours were almost discontinued. The Kumgang project was salvaged by a large-scale government intervention, but that is another story…

Choson Iblo
9/6/2005

North Korea’s gap between rich and poor has been growing since the Stalinist country started economic reforms in 2002. While some have managed to better themselves to form something of a nouveau riche class, more than 70 percent are now getting only about half the needed calorie intake from state-run food distribution centers, the Financial Times reported Friday.

The World Food Program’s North Korea director Richard Ragan told the paper the wealthy are concentrated in five cities, including Pyongyang. They are the group that can be seen going to work on their bicycles, which cost triple the average monthly salary in North Korea. The newly affluent work mostly in retail and service industries and include tailors, ice cream sellers and bike repairmen who make money in general markets, which have multiplied to some 300 since 2002. Some farmers selling surplus produce are also part of what passes for a wealthy class in North Korea.

Most of those working in industrial production subsist below the minimum level, and tens of thousands of industrial workers in towns like Hamhung or Kimchaek are losing their jobs. Among those able to work, 30 percent are unemployed, and 70 percent of the population receives 250-380 grams of food a day from state-run food distribution centers — no more than half the necessary daily intake of nutrients.

The FT said the country as a whole is experiencing 130 percent inflation but poverty is no longer shared equally.

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
8/23/2005

The North Korea of the 1960s or 1980s was not a society of complete equality. It had its rich and poor. But the affluent people were affluent either because the party-state bureaucracy chose them, such as government officials and a handful of the most prominent scholars and writers, as well as people who were allowed to work overseas and were paid in hard currency, or allowed them to be affluent. For example, this was the case with the repatriates from Japan. From the late 1980s, the situation changed. Some people began to make money not because they were paid and showered with privileges, but because they learned how to use market capitalism.

The markets began to grow explosively around 1990, and North Korean “black capitalism’’ was conceived around this time. The first really rich people began to appear, even though they had to hide their success both from the authorities and their fellow countrymen. And one had to use whatever advantages one had, as competition was tough. In the late 1990s, the North Koreans used to say “there are only three types of people in North Korea: those who starve, those who beg and those who trade.’’

These early capitalists came from backgrounds that gave them advantages over other people who also took up trade. Most of them were officials who had useful connections. In the 1990s, a person who could command a truck easily made a huge amount of money by moving merchandise around the country and exploiting the large differences in prices between the regions. Managers of state enterprises could sell the production of their factories on the market. This was technically stealing, of course, but it was in an increasingly corrupt society there was a fairly good chance of not getting caught. Retail personnel at all levels channeled the goods through the “back doors’’ of their shops, away from the disintegrating public distribution system. Military and security personnel also had advantages, since for decades they had lived in what can be described as a “state-within-the-state,’’ beyond even the most nominal control of outsiders. Finally, “hard currency earning’’ officials made a lot of money: they have been running quasi-market operations from the 1970s and had both the necessary expertise and resources. After 1990, they began to use these resources for their own ends.

In addition to officials, generals and police officers, there were other groups of people who found themselves in an advantageous position in those early days of North Korea’s capitalist revival. These included the repatriates from Japan whose relatives back in the “capitalist hell’’ have always been encouraged to transfer money to the North. The repatriates had money, and some of them retained vestigial experience of operating in a market economy. Another group included ethnic Chinese, some of whom were Chinese citizens, and Koreans who had close relatives in China. For decades, both of these groups have been engaged in small-time cross-border commerce, and after the collapse of state control, they greatly increased the scale of their operations.

Even some humbler professions found themselves in relatively good times. Drivers, for instance, could take money for moving passengers and merchandise _ especially, after the quiet breakdown of the travel restriction system around 1997. They also augmented this money by selling and buying goods themselves and became a major source of income for train conductors.

Fortunes were made in trade, not in manufacturing, which remained largely controlled by the state. Money lending also provided good profits. In the mid-1990s, private lenders charged their borrowers with a monthly interest of some 30-40 percent. The associated risks were high, too; these private lenders had virtually no protection against the state or criminals, or above all, bad debtors.

The growth of grassroots capitalism had another unexpected effect: the empowerment of women. Like their counterparts in most other Communist countries, the North Korean authorities expected every able-bodied male to be employed in some state enterprise. It was illegal for men to remain unemployed. However, for married women, the approach was different. All Communist countries grudgingly admitted that a woman has at least a theoretical right to remain a full-time housewife. In the North, the share of housewives was unusually high: no precise data is available but it appears that some 30-40 percent of married women of working age stayed at home.

When economic disaster struck, this arrangement had unintended consequences. The men kept going to their factories and offices, even if their wages were becoming meaningless. They were afraid of the still formidable state machine, they wanted to keep the status traditionally associated with proper jobs and they also needed the rations _ as long as the rations were forthcoming. Women, especially housewives, were free to pursue completely different economic strategies. They took up market commerce with great enthusiasm and soon comprised a majority of North Korean vendors. This also meant that the women’s earnings became the major source of income in many Korean families.

This did not mean that women became prominent at the highest reaches of the new capitalist market. To occupy the key positions and make really good money, one had to have connections, capital and connections. Most of the people who had all of these things were male, but at the lower levels of the new semi-legal capitalist class, women came to play a significant role.

From the Herald Tribune:
Donald Greenlees

In May, Kelvin Chia, one of the first foreign lawyers to receive a license to practice in North Korea, took a party of Indonesian miners on an investment tour.
 
Visiting a coal mine outside Pyongyang, the group was surprised by the welcome from North Korean officials and found that the basic road and power infrastructure serving the mine site was in a better condition than they expected. Chia said the mining company – which he declined to identify for commercial reasons – is likely to soon enter a joint venture with the North Korean operator to further develop the mine.
 
Since being granted the right to open an office in Pyongyang last October, Chia, who is from Singapore, says his firm has been approached by about 20 companies from Europe, Southeast Asia and Australia with an interest in investing in communist North Korea’s shaky economy. Chia’s firm was the first wholly owned foreign legal practice in North Korea.
 
“I think there is an upsurge of interest in that country,” said Chia, who is based in Singapore but runs an office of two lawyers in the North Korean capital and has plans to expand.
 
Chia’s recent experience mirrors that of other hardy business people who have persisted with North Korea in the past decade, despite a nuclear crisis and U.S. commercial embargoes. Some business people equate the current level of investor interest with the early 1990s, when foreign companies, including some multinationals, started a spate of investments in the hope that North Korea’s largely self-imposed isolation would end.
 
While the latest round of six-nation talks to dismantle North Korea’s nuclear weapons program remains inconclusive, a handful of Asian and Western investors, some with earlier experience in doing business there, are again considering possibilities in defiance of Washington’s desire to use economic seclusion as a bargaining tool.
 
These investors, mainly manufacturers and miners, are being enticed back by low wages, plentiful mineral resources and a regime that appears increasingly prepared to support foreign investment and open its economy.
 
Pyongyang has signaled plans to open investment promotion offices within its embassies in Singapore and Malaysia, according to Chia, who maintains regular contact with North Korean officials. A revised foreign investment law, passed by the North Korean Supreme People’s Assembly in 2004, relaxed some conditions on foreign investment and permitted full foreign ownership of some ventures. The assembly has also strengthened intellectual property rights laws.
 
A South Korean government official said that Pyongyang also recently started to approve visas for foreign buyers to enter the joint North-South industrial park at Gaeseong, just north of the demilitarized zone. The official said 19 visas had been approved as of mid-July for buyers from Germany, Japan, China and Australia.
 
Investment in Gaeseong is restricted to South Korean companies.
 
Tony Michell, [Korean Associates Business Consultancy]a business consultant based in Seoul, has received permission to take a group of eight investors to North Korea in September in the first of what he said would be monthly investment missions. The first group will comprise European and Asian business people, none of whom are from China or South Korea, the countries with the largest investment in the North.
 
Michell, who introduced a number of companies to North Korea during the last upswing in investment interest from 1993 to 1995, said there had recently been “a revival of interest.”
 
“This comes up to the 1993 level of interest,” said Michell, managing director for Asia of the Euro-Asian Business Consultancy, adding that if the United States dropped its economic embargo “this would be a humdinger of an emerging market.”
 
Still, potential investors in North Korea have to weigh a long history of failure. Of the eight companies Michell introduced during the early 1990s, only one investment survives. An investment bank based in Hong Kong, Peregrine, entered a joint venture to establish Daedong Credit Bank in Pyongyang. Peregrine collapsed, but Daedong is marking a decade in business.
 
The experience of North East Asia Telecom, a Thai firm, is sobering. It set up a mobile phone network, but since May 2004 use of mobile phones has been suspended by the North Korean government as part of a security crackdown.
 
New investment largely dried up after October 2002 when U.S. officials claimed that North Korean officials had admitted during talks to possessing a nuclear weapons program. There is general agreement among investment advisers and economic analysts that if the nuclear impasse can be resolved foreign investment will accelerate.
 
The nuclear crisis erupted as North Korea was implementing a series of measures to open its economy and increase appeal to investors, like giving state-owned enterprises greater freedom to operate commercially, removing price controls and allowing its currency, the won, to be exchanged for the euro, which was adopted in December 2002 for all foreign currency transactions.
 
Analysts of the North Korean economy say those reforms remain largely on track and paved the way for an upsurge of direct investment in 2004 from China, North Korea’s main economic partner. Ahn Ye Hong, who studies the North Korean economy for the Bank of Korea, the South Korean central bank, said that investment from China rose from $1.3 million in 2003 to $173 million in 2004.
 
He said this investment was driven by China’s desire to “obtain as much of North Korea’s resources as it can,” particularly iron ore. He expects a further significant increase in Chinese investment this year.
 
The South Korean government is also seeking to increase direct investment in the North. Although the bulk of South Korean investment has gone into just two projects, Gaeseong and the Mount Geumgang tourism development, recent talks between the two Koreas explored the possibility of investment in upgrading or repairing mines that have fallen into disuse.
 
An official in South Korea’s Ministry of Unification said an inter-Korean economic cooperation meeting in Pyongyang between Sept. 28 and Oct. 1 would discuss the proposal further. The official, who requested anonymity due to restrictions on speaking publicly, said it was likely any South Korean involvement in redevelopment of the mines would be carried out by a joint enterprise between the government and the private sector.