North Korean Economy Watch

From Joong Ang Daily:

One ROK official said yesterday that shipments of 100,000 tons of fertilizer and 500,000 tons of rice, the remainder of assistance promised this year, would be suspended at least temporarily.

“There should be no misunderstanding on this,” the official said. “We told the North that actions would be taken if they fired a missile.”

Other projects, such as manufacturing at the Kaesong Industrial Complex and tours to the resort area of Mount Kumgang, will probably not be touched. Mr. Lee, the Unification Minister, said the two projects had long-term goals and involved private capital, and so were not appropriate instruments of retaliation.

from the Joong Ang Daily:

South Korean workers loading fertilizer sacks yesterday at a dock in Ulsan. The ship and another ship from Yeosu, South Jeolla province, will head today to Haeju Port and Nampo Port to transport the last 20,000 tons of 200,000 tons of fertilizers South Korea promised to send to North Korea. Despite North Korea’s missile tests, the South Korean government decided to send the last fertilizers as a humanitrian aid.

This is weird.  (Hat tip to Lost Nomad)

China sends the DPRK food aid via train.  The DPRK keeps the train and sends the crew back across the border  sans-train.

[F]ood and fuel supplies sent to North Korea have been halted, not to force North Korea to stop missile tests or participate in peace talks, but to return the Chinese trains the aid was carried in on. In the last few weeks, the North Koreans have just kept the trains, sending the Chinese crews back across the border. North Korea just ignores Chinese demands that the trains be returned, and insists that the trains are part of the aid program. It’s no secret that North Korean railroad stock is falling apart, after decades of poor maintenance and not much new equipment. Stealing Chinese trains is a typical North Korean solution to the problem. If the North Koreans appear to make no sense, that’s because they don’t. Put simply, when their unworkable economic policies don’t work, the North Koreans just conjure up new, and equally unworkable, plans. The Chinese have tried to talk the North Koreans out of these pointless fantasies, and for their trouble they have their trains stolen. How do you negotiate under these conditions? No one knows. The South Koreans believe that if they just keep the North Korean leaders from doing anything too destructive (especially to South Korea), eventually the tragicomic house of cards up north will just collapse. Not much of a plan, but so far, no one’s come up with anything better.

Economic Reform and SEZ as Survival Strategy of DPRK
PDF: Deok Ryong Yoon.pdf
Deok Ryong Yoon

Introduction to & implications of Gaesong Industrial Complex Project
PDF: kaesong.faqs.pdf
Ministry of Unification

Gaeseong Industrial complex: Past, Present and Future
PDF: Dong-geun Kim.pdf
Speech by Dong-geun Kim, Chairman of Gaeseong Industrial District Management Committee

Gaeseong Industrial Complex : Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)
PDF: kaesong.faqs1.pdf
Ministry of Unification, ROK

Nautilus Institute
Andrei Lankov
12/1/2005

The recent news out of North Korea leaves no room for doubt. After a decade of grudgingly allowing small-scale free markets, Kim Jong Il’s regime is seeking to reimpose total control. Ironically this turning back of the clock is being aided by the “no strings attached” aid policies of two countries, China and South Korea, which claim to be trying to encourage reforms.

From early October, all trade in grain has been forbidden in the small private markets that mushroomed across North Korea when the state-run food distribution system largely collapsed during the famine of the 1990s. North Koreans are now expected to rely on a revived public distribution system for supplies of grain. Special teams of officials have fanned out to check farming households for any “excessive” supplies of grain they might try to sell in the private markets, and ensure they are left only with their officially allowed ration of 700 grams a day.

Internal travel controls are also being tightened. During the famine, authorities turned a blind eye to violations of the regime’s tough restrictions on freedom of movement, as starving North Koreans crisscrossed the country in search of food. Now these are being enforced once again, with North Koreans required to obtain a travel permit from police before they can travel elsewhere in the country.

Pyongyang’s moves in this direction should not come as a surprise. Allowing even a minimal degree of private enterprise reduces the regime’s absolute control over its citizens — especially if they are no longer dependent on the state for their food — and provides firsthand evidence of the existence of a more successful economic system. The Kim regime has seen how economic reform preceded the collapse of Communist regimes across Eastern Europe. It’s no coincidence that one of the questions most commonly heard in private conversations with members of the Pyongyang elite these days is about the fate of Communist cadres in the former East Germany. To avoid reforms is the surest survival strategy for Pyongyang’s ruling elite.

Throughout the past decade, the regime had no choice but to tolerate some degree of private economic activity, because of the collapse of its state-distribution system. But now that the North Korean economy has bottomed out and the famine appears to be over, largely due to generous aid shipments from the outside world, the Kim regime is in a position to get rid of changes that it never wanted in the first place. In addition to trying to curb the activities of private markets, it’s ordered most of the representatives of the international aid agencies that it reluctantly allowed into the country during the famine to leave by the end of the year.

The Kim regime can afford to act in this way because it knows that food aid from its two key patrons, South Korea and China, will keep flowing come what may. These now exceed shipments from elsewhere in the world. According to a recent report to the U.S. Congress, North Korea received 350,000 tons of food aid from South Korea and China in 2004 — compared with 325,000 tons from the World Food Program. Seoul also provides the North with much needed fertilizer, while China takes care of most of its energy needs.

China and, especially, South Korea claim to be supplying aid as part of a strategy of encouraging North Korea to embrace economic reform. That’s the ostensible aim of Seoul’s “sunshine policy” of one-sided concessions to the North, while Chinese leaders have shown visiting North Korean leaders around Shanghai and Shenzhen in an effort to encourage it to follow the same path. But, far from encouraging reform, North Korea’s recent actions show that it can take advantage of such unconditional aid to move in the opposition direction.

While Western countries insist on their aid being monitored by international relief agencies to try to prevent its diversion to the military, South Korea and China take a much more forgiving stance. Beijing wants stability on its borders, and would not be happy to see another nominally Communist regime collapsing. South Korea also wants to avoid the collapse of the Kim regime, since it would then have to foot the bill for an expensive and socially ruinous German-style unification. This means that both governments are ready to ship aid without asking too many awkward questions or demanding that it be closely monitored. Although ostensibly encouraging economic reform in North Korea, in reality both China and South Korea share the same short-term goal of preserving the status quo. They tacitly understand that means the regime must be able to continue to rely on its police and elite army units, and so needs to keep them well fed. That means turning a blind eye to the diversion of aid to the military, police and other members of the Pyongyang elite, even at the expense of the long-suffering North Korean people.

In the long run, this creates a paradox. Unless Seoul and Beijing are willing to foot the ever growing bills from Pyongyang indefinitely, they need to promote reforms there. However the North Korean regime has shown it has no interest in implementing reforms except when it is the only way to survive.

That creates an uneasy dilemma, which is shared by other foreign aid donors to North Korea. Stopping all aid could lead to renewed famine, especially in those areas of the country closed to foreigners. But excessive and unconditional aid is likely to halt all reforms, since the Pyongyang government would simply reverse to its old policies, using foreign aid to pay for the system’s inherent inefficiencies (and perhaps for a bit of luxury for Kim and his cronies). And recent events have clearly demonstrated have how counterproductive showering North Korea with aid can be.

The Banker and FDI magazine
12/1/2005

[excerpt]
Information hollow

For a financial journalist the DPRK represents a serious challenge. Understanding the economy and the banking sector of a country is never easy, but when no data is published by the government or the central bank it becomes significantly more difficult. I knew information was scarce but believed that the two very agreeable government minders, assigned to monitor my every move in my four-day visit, would be able to help me extract a simple list of banks operating in the country. No such luck. Although my visit was welcomed, the central bank (which acts as both the issuing bank and as a fully operational commercial bank in the traditional socialist model) failed to provide the list (or anything else), despite numerous requests.

Although the consensus after several interviews was that around 20 banks of various types exist, I can only vouch for the handful listed here. Clearly the Foreign Trade Bank (FTB) represents a pivotal bank in the financial system and Ko Chol Man, director of the FTB, was keen to explain the peculiarities of the DPRK banking system. “The domestic and foreign exchange settlement systems are completely separate. The central bank deals with the domestic market and money issuance and it also has a commercial banking role; the FTB has complete control over foreign exchange matters and trade and also holds the country’s foreign exchange reserves.”

Unlike other banking systems, the FTB in the DPRK acts as a clearing house for the foreign exchange activities of the banks in the country. It does not report to the central bank but, like all banks, reports to the State Fiscal and Financial Committee (SFFC), the overall banking regulator.

Mr Ko was pleased to note that the FTB had around 500 correspondent banks worldwide and, along with its 600 staff (including 11 branches) in North Korea, had six representative offices outside the country (including offices in Austria, Russia and China) and planned to establish a UK representative office in London. However, when asked for details of FTB’s banking activities he replied bluntly that no banking institution had published its figures in terms of activities or balance sheet. “We cannot give figures about the size of our assets because it is a regulation of the state. If the situation becomes better we can make them public but up to now it is impossible.”
Economic estimates

Despite the absence of official economic and banking data, various estimates help make the picture a little less murky. A recent Standard Chartered Bank report places North Korea’s nominal GDP at the end of 2004 at $22bn or $957 in GDP per capita terms for the country’s 23 million population; by comparison, South Korea’s nominal GDP is put at $680bn or $14,167 per capita for its 48 million population. While the unification of the two Koreas is seen as an important political objective, especially in Pyongyang, the startling economic gap between the two states could mean that the North becomes a huge burden on the South, and Seoul well recognises the economic problems that emerged from the reunification of Germany in the 1990s.

Meanwhile, Jong Msong Pil, of the Institute of Economy at the Academy of Social Science, explained how the economy had declined dramatically from a GDP per capita of $2500 in the mid-1980s to $480 per capita in 2000.

“The big drop was caused by the disappearance of the socialist market worldwide in the early 1990s; the collapse of our socialist barter trade system led to the failure of many enterprises and a decline in living standards,” he said.

Dr Jong noted that, following the hard times of the mid-1990s, the first target of the national economy has been self-reliance. He added that no economic data had been published since 2000. He believed, however, that 10% economic growth occurred in 2004 and, responding to reports from the World Food Programme (WFP) that a third of the population were malnourished, he said the food situation was improving. “In our country, all people have a job so for this reason no one has died of starvation or hunger. Our country is a socialist planned economy so the government takes care of people’s living.”

Acknowledging shortages in the past, Dr Jong said that in October the government had normalised the public food distribution system, which indicated the government was now supplying sufficient food.

Is the DPRK’s food crisis over? Driving around Pyongyang’s spacious avenues (with two minders) there was no visual evidence of malnutrition – but the capital is likely to be much better served than elsewhere. A supermarket was shown but the goods were only available for foreign currency, hardly food for the masses. Cha Yong Sik, deputy director general at the Ministry of Foreign Trade, said the government had not imported food on a commercial basis in 2005, unlike previous years, but neighbouring countries are still providing significant food aid. Richard Ragan, country director of the WFP, said food production in 2005 was up 10%, with cereals up 6.6%. But while the food situation may have improved, the DPRK is said to be still dependent on food aid.
Trade predictions

So what are the DPRK’s prospects? Much depends on the outcome of the nuclear negotiations but estimates from the Seoul-based Korea Trade-Investment Promotion Agency (KOTRA) say the DPRK’s trade volume in 2005 is expected to pass $3bn for the first time since the fall of the Soviet Union with the figure likely to reach $4bn if inter-Korean trade is included. Trade with China, the DPRK’s largest trading partner, grew by more than 40% in the first half of 2005, indicating Pyongyang’s growing dependency on Beijing.

Upbeat on trade prospects, Mr Cha explained that the recently opened Tae-an Friendship Glass Factory, built with a $32m donation from the Chinese government, would export 40% of its 300-ton capacity, mainly to Siberia. Also Pyongyang’s first autumn international trade exhibition in October included companies from six European countries, the focus being on the country’s mineral potential rather than its manufacturing abilities, which are a long way off.

As for banks, the group of up to 15 joint venture banks are helping to finance the country’s 150 or so international companies. But do not expect miracles. The latest, Koryo Global Credit Bank, set up in June, is a joint venture between the UK-based Global Group, headed by Hong Kong businessman Johnny Hon, with 70%, and the state-owned Koryo Bank with 30%. Established with a paid-up capital of e10m, KGC Bank is ambitious in its plans to engage the DPRK in trade and commercial relations with the rest of the world, especially Asia, the Middle East and Europe.

KGCB’s first correspondent banking relationship in Europe is with Germany’s Helababank. The bank, the first product of cooperation in the finance field between the DPRK and the UK, has a staff of five and is also interested in investing in property. It was also able to produce, at the instigation of US authorities, a comprehensive anti-money laundering file.

Another local venture is North East Asia Bank (NEAB), which was set up by ING Group in 1995 but is now wholly owned by the Korean BOHOM Group. Amazingly, Kim Hyon Il, NEAB’s president, produced a balance sheet showing total assets of e79m at the end of 2004 and a paid-up capital of e25m. He also showed me the bank’s newest product, a chip-based cash/debit card, the first in the DPRK. The card demonstrates perhaps that the country is slowly joining the real world – but with only 100 issued and only 13 outlets available, the service has a long way to go.

Political effects

At Daedong Credit Bank, chief executive Nigel Cowie explained how international politics can have a dramatic impact on banking even in the isolated DPRK. In September, just before the conclusion of the fourth round of the Six-Party Talks, the US Treasury accused Banco Delta Asia (BDA), a Macao-based bank, of aiding the DPRK in a series of ‘money laundering’ cases. The Wall Street Journal had said the Macao crackdown was Washington’s method of cutting off Pyongyang’s financial sources for its nuclear weapons programme.

Mr Cowie, a former HSBC banker, explained that all DPRK banks had accounts with BDA for the purposes of remitting funds and, as a result, the accounts were suspended pending an inquiry in mid-November. While Stanley Au, chairman of BDA’s parent, denied the US allegations and BDA’s involvement in any illegal business relations with DPRK banks, the damage is done. “It affects our customers because it affects people’s ability to remit money to and from the country. I imagine that this will cause people doing legitimate business to give up,” says Mr Cowie.

The nuclear negotiations remain critical to the country’s future and the Chinese, in particular, want them to succeed. But that is just a start. There is evidence that the DPRK is opening up and changing with reports that there are 300 open markets operating across the country, 30 in Pyongyang. But whether the DPRK follows the China model of 25 years ago and can restructure its ‘powerful socialist nation’ doctrine remains doubtful under the current leadership.

BBC
Andrew Harding
10/28/2005

It was early on Sunday morning, but Roh Buk-chong, a 39-year-old postman, was already striding down the road leading north from Pyongyang.

“I am a volunteer,” he said. “I am going to help the farmers with the harvest – full of patriotic enthusiasm.”

He was not alone. In a scene strangely reminiscent of a 1950s Soviet propaganda film, the road was clogged with pedestrians and cyclists, heading for the nearby rice fields in the bright sunshine.

A government van passed by with loudspeakers on the roof, playing a rousing tune.

“They call me the girl who works well,” went the lyrics. “They call me the girl who works faster than the fastest horse.”

All this is part of what observers say is a concerted push by North Korea’s isolated regime to boost domestic food production, in a country where a third of the population is chronically malnourished.

It may be working. According to some predictions, this year’s harvest will be 10% larger than in 2004.

But that will not be enough, warned the UN World Food Programme’s country director, Richard Ragan.

“North Korea is chronically food insecure, so it’s unlikely in the near term that it will ever produce enough food,” he said.

Aid withdrawal

For the past decade, international food aid has helped bridge the gap for millions of North Koreans, many of whom starved to death during a famine in the mid-1990s.

The WFP now has 19 food processing plants in the country, helping to feed 6.5 million people.

It is backed up by a team of foreign monitors, who keep track of malnutrition rates.

But all that is about to change. North Korea’s heavily politicised drive for a bigger domestic harvest has been coupled with a new and more controversial move to end international food aid, and restrict the number of foreign aid workers in the country.

Although the details are being negotiated, all the WFP’s food plants are due to close within the next month.

“North Koreans are proud people,” said Mr Ragan. “They don’t want to create a culture of dependency, which makes a lot of sense.

“But there are still real humanitarian needs here, and it remains to be seen now they deal with them.”

Some aid is expected to continue in the form of development assistance next year.

China and South Korea are also likely to help make up any shortfall in food supplies.

But North Korea’s most vulnerable groups are now facing a period of uncertainty.

A key concern is how food will be distributed, and whether the army’s needs will be put ahead of the rest of the population.

High inflation recently prompted the authorities to abandon a market system for grain distribution, in favour of the old state-controlled policy – which the WFP has described as “inoperable”.

The Guardian
Jonathan Watts
10/3/2005

Of all the bars in all the world, there is probably none as exclusive, surreal or intriguing as the Random Access Club in Pyongyang. There are also few institutions that are quite so necessary to the mental well-being of the customers.

Open for business only on Friday nights, the RAC is a watering hole for North Korea’s tiny expatriate community; the 300 foreign residents allowed to live among the 22 million population of the planet’s most reclusive nation.

At first sight, the club inside the compound of the United Nations World Food Programme could not look more mundane nor the clientele appear less exotic. Apart from the decor – mostly copies of Chinese contemporary artworks – the simple bar, concrete walls and well-worn pool table might as easily belong to a church hall in Croydon as an expat hang-out in Pyongyang. The few dozen customers seem so earnest and engaging that they too could be mistaken for a suburban congregation rather than the disaster and war hardened aid workers and diplomats they really are.

What is bizarre is the context. The RAC is an oasis of modern globalised normality inside a land where time has not only stood still but gone backwards. North Korea exerts more control over its citizens than the Soviet Union in the dark days of Stalinism. It takes the ideology of 1984 to levels that George Orwell could not have dreamed of. It is rusting proof that the engine of industrial development has a reverse gear. And it is a dark and uncomfortable warning of what could happen to the world if we ever run out of oil.
To find a place like the RAC in the midst of this is like seeing a tiny postcard of Brighton beach stuck on Picasso’s Guernica, or having the latest Peter Greenaway film interrupted by a few seconds of Neighbours.

The bar’s short history is the story of the gradual opening of North Korea since the government reluctantly requested outside help to feed a population racked by famine, droughts and floods.

When it started in 1995, the WFP had just two representatives running a small aid project from rooms in the Koryo hotel. By 1997, North Korea had become the biggest humanitarian operation on the planet, with international organisations providing food and medicine to more than a quarter of the population.

In the meantime, the resident aid community – which included other UN agencies and about a dozen NGOs – had swollen to more than a hundred and been moved to the diplomatic district. The RAC emerged in response to the growing need among this group for a communal gathering point and a place to let off steam about the frustrations of working in such a difficult political and humanitarian environment.

Foreigners in Pyongyang arguably face more restrictions than their counterparts in any other country. They cannot make private visits to the homes of North Koreans, they cannot travel outside of Pyongyang without permission and they are not supposed to exchange their dollars and euros for local currency.

The work can be harrowing. Although the worst of the food crisis passed more than five years ago, some areas still suffer from poor nutrition and a lack of basic medicines. In remote outposts, WFP monitors can be extremely isolated. In Hyesan – a four-day drive from Pyongyang – the organisation’s representative lives alone for eight weeks in a basic hotel where the temperature in the lobby can fall as low as minus 17 degrees in the winter. There are no other foreigners, their local guides leave them at the weekends, and they are not allowed to socialise privately with Koreans.

In Pyongyang, the situation is not nearly as bad. Many visitors are surprised at the beauty of this showcase city. Compared to most capitals, it is clean, quiet and safe. There is sufficient food, some fine duck and noodle restaurants and even a little capitalist entertainment in the form of the casino, karaoke bar and golf course at the Yanggakdo hotel.

In addition, years of pure ideology – the utter subjection of the individual to the collective will of the state embodied by the leader Kim Jong-il – have produced some impressive (or scary, depending on your point of view) cultural marvels, such as the circus and the performances by young dancers and musicians at the children’s palace.

Those looking on the positive side of life in North Korea also point out the friendliness, innocence and high levels of education of many of the people they meet, as well as the cleanliness of the air in a country starved of energy and short on traffic. Because of this, and the frequent blackouts, Pyongyang is probably the best capital in the world for stargazing.

But the political problems undermine most of these benefits. Most foreigners accept their phones are bugged. Some suspect that much of what they see during inspections is staged. Even among the old-hands who have been in the country for years, many say they have never made a Korean friend.

This is largely because North Korea is gripped by a siege mentality – and not without justification. The country has been in a state of hot and cold war with the US since 1950. Outsiders are seen as potential spies or sources of ideological impurity.

There is good reason for the government to fear charity. Every smile or hand-out from a foreign aid worker undermines the state’s xenophobic propaganda and philosophy of “juche” self-sufficiency.

The WFP’s mission in North Korea is the only one where aid monitors do not have unrestricted access to the entire country. But the UN organisation has gradually widened its focus, pushing back the boundaries where it operates, expanding its presence to 42 foreign and 70 domestic staff, and meeting regularly with thousands of local officials who might otherwise never come into contact with a foreigner. Its monitoring ambitions remain the same as when the RAC was named: random access to all parts of the country.

This is the aspect of aid work that North Korea fears the most. Although the food and drugs are humanitarian, their side-effect is political. As most of the customers in the RAC will testify, one of the biggest changes since the aid operation began is in attitudes. Ten years ago, most North Koreans would turn their backs on a foreigner. Now they are almost as likely to smile.

That, more than anything, may be why the RAC could soon be losing most of its customers. The government has ordered all humanitarian work to end by the end of the year. Negotiations are still under way regarding what that will mean, but one resident’s estimate is that as many as 80 of the 120 aid officials in Pyongyang will have to pack their bags and leave by December 31.

The mood in the RAC has never been more gloomy. Out will go most of the young blood. Those who remain are likely to be diplomats, a sharply reduced corps of aid workers, five English teachers and a handful of businessmen.

“It’ll be like going back to 1994,” commented one regular at the bar.

“The jokes these days are black ones about all the second-hand fridges and cars that will flood into Pyongyang’s markets at the end of the year,” said another.

It is still possible that as one door closes others will open. North Korea welcomes economic development in the form of investors and technical support for infrastructure projects. The government wants to boost the tourist industry. A new railway is about to open across the demilitarized zone that will increase the flow of visitors from South Korea. The growing influence of Beijing is bringing in more people and goods from China. Progress in six-nation nuclear talks could also mean more atomic energy agency inspectors and diplomats from Japan and the US.

But ready or not, North Korea wants its independence back. It wants its future foreign guests to be visiting town on short-term visas, not moving in for years on end and setting up their own social club. For North Koreans and expats, there will be plenty of other bars, but at the RAC, it is time to drink up. The government may soon be calling last orders.

BBC
9/23/2005

North Korea has formally told the UN it no longer needs food aid, despite reports of malnutrition in the country.

Deputy Foreign Minister Choe Su-hon said the country now had enough food, due to a good harvest, and accused the US of using aid as a political weapon.

Top UN relief co-ordinator Jan Egeland said an “abrupt” end to food aid would harm North Korea’s most vulnerable.

Pyongyang’s move comes as the world community continues to urge it to give up its nuclear ambitions.

Analysts say North Korea might be worried that accepting more food aid now could be perceived as a sign of weakness.

The North may also have lost patience with efforts by foreign agencies to monitor deliveries of food, according to the BBC’s Seoul correspondent, Charles Scanlon.

In recent years, the UN and other international agencies have been feeding up to six million of the poorest and most vulnerable North Koreans.

But these organisations have long struggled for access to one of the world’s most closed societies.

Even at the height of a famine in the mid-1990s, which may have killed two million people, they were tightly restricted and refused entry to large parts of the country.

Now the authorities are cracking down altogether, our correspondent says.

After meeting UN Secretary General Kofi Annan in New York on Thursday, Choe Su-hon told reporters: “We requested him to end humanitarian assistance by the end of this year.”

He said that the North wanted all foreign NGOs out by the end of the year, and added that the UN was to stop delivering food aid and to focus on long-term development instead.

Mr Egeland urged North Korea to reverse its decision, saying he was especially worried about the country’s children.

“Our concern is they (North Koreans) will not be able to have enough food. We are very concerned because we think this is too soon and too abrupt,” he said.

Gerald Bourke, a spokesman for the WFP, said that UN staff were currently discussing with the North Korean government what this meant in practice – adding that he was hopeful that current food-for-work and other community-based projects would class as longer-term development.

“We’re also talking to donors to see how much they still want to help us in this way,” he added.

Mr Bourke said that despite Mr Choe’s assertion of a better harvest in North Korea this year – and his pledge that the government was “prepared to provide the food to all our people” – there was still a considerable need for food aid.

“North Korea has a substantial and chronic food deficit,” Mr Bourke said, adding that malnutrition rates, especially for mothers and young children, were still very high.

Political issue?

Mr Choe also accused other countries, especially the US, of attempting to “politicize humanitarian assistance, linking it to the human rights issue”.

He said this constituted interference in the internal affairs of the country.

Washington rejected the suggestion it was mixing politics with relief work.

“All US decisions are based on… the need of the country involved, competing needs elsewhere and our ability to ensure that the aid gets to people who need it most,” a State Department statement said.

Another problem which analysts believe may have led to the North’s decision to ask foreign organisations to leave is the extensive surveying these groups are required to do, to ensure their money is being well-spent.

“Part of the problem is with our monitoring people moving around the country,” Mr Bourke conceded. “This is and has been a concern for them.”

In contrast, China and South Korea provide huge food shipments to North Korea without overseeing where it ends up.

The South says it gives such aid as part of a strategy to promote political reconciliation.

But diplomats and aid workers say these generous shipments have undermined the multilateral effect.

According to our correspondent, there is concern that if monitoring stops, so too will surveys to check the food gets to those most in need.

US News and World Report
Thomas Omestad
9/13/2005

It is a question that policymakers in the Bush administration, other governments, and private relief agencies have pondered for years: How much of the considerable international food aid sent to hungry North Korea has been diverted away from its intended beneficiaries? The debate is not likely to end, but a significant study released this month by the U.S. Committee for Human Rights in North Korea takes a stab at an answer: 25 to 30 percent of it.

However, say the report’s authors, that diversion may not be the disaster it initially seems to be. Much of the redirected aid appears to move back into North Korea’s nascent food markets, where it is available to people who have earned the outside income to afford it. The diversions do not appear to be centrally directed but rather reflect the actions of North Korean agencies and people who are seeking financial gain, say the report’s authors, Stephan Haggard, director of the Korea-Pacific Program at the University of California–San Diego, and Marcus Noland, a senior fellow at the Washington-based Institute for International Economics.

The 56-page report (“Hunger and Human Rights: The Politics of Famine in North Korea”) is released at a sensitive moment: Talks among six nations, including North Korea, aimed at persuading the North to abandon its nuclear weapons programs are scheduled to resume today. Pyongyang delayed the resumption of the talks by some two weeks, saying it was reacting to the naming of a U.S. official to focus on human rights problems in the North and to U.S.-South Korean military exercises. The regime will undoubtedly be watching for any moves to back away from international aid commitments to feed the hungry in the nation of 23 million.

North Korea has suffered food shortages for well over a decade, and a famine in the mid- and late-1990s is believed to have killed up to 1 million people–though some estimates have put the figure higher. The public food distribution system staggered under the problem, and many North Koreans are now purchasing much of their food in markets, spending upwards of 80 percent of their income on food. North Korea has received more than $2 billion in food aid over the past decade, the U.S. contribution rising above $600 million of that. The United Nations World Food Program has not been able to meet its food contribution goals this year, a reflection, some analysts say, of international annoyance with North Korea’s stance on nuclear issues.

The report cites what Haggard describes as regime efforts at “systematically blocking NGO [nongovernmental organizations] aid.” Barriers include North Korean limits on the number of food-aid monitors allowed to follow distribution, preventing the WFP from deploying Korean-speaking staff, putting several counties (with 15 percent of the population) off limits, and requiring that inspection visits be announced ahead of time. All of that, the authors suggest, worsens the problem of aid being misdirected. Further, says Haggard, the North Koreans cut commercial imports nearly in tandem with growing food aid from other countries. The meaning: “The North Korean regime was using food imports as a sort of balance-of-payments support,” he says.

Despite their qualms, the authors do not advocate stopping food aid to the North, suggesting that China and South Korea–two countries that have tried to support the North with food aid outside of U.N. channels–would simply step in and fill the gap. They do want South Korea, in particular, however, to make its food donations through the WFP, where the monitoring is at least better. The South Korean government, however, says that it does inspect its distribution site in North Korea and stresses the need for North Korea to undertake an “equitable distribution of food.”

But no one should expect quick fixes to the challenge of verifying that aid to the North goes where it should be going.

“Absolute control is not possible,” Ells Culver, a cofounder of Oregon-based Mercy Corps, said in a recent interview with U.S. News. Mercy Corps is assisting with several agriculture projects in the North. “We’ll never get as much monitoring as in other countries.” Such pragmatism, however imperfect it is, may be the best approach to helping North Korea’s hungry.