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‘Unification Baby’ Seen as Omen by N. Koreans

Sunday, November 20th, 2005

Los Angeles Times
Barbara Demick
11/20/2005

A South Korean activist gives birth while visiting Pyongyang for an anniversary event. Some in the South suspect the timing was contrived.

While watching child gymnasts tumbling in unison across the field of Kim Il Sung Stadium in a performance heralding the miracle of the North Korean economy, Hwang Seon felt a sharp cramp in her abdomen.

Within minutes, the 32-year-old South Korean tourist was whisked by ambulance across town to Pyongyang’s maternity hospital. There, doctors delivered a 7-pound, 6-ounce girl who has become an instant celebrity and rare source of optimism in this often-forlorn North Korean capital.

The baby is the first born in the North as a South Korean citizen. Her birth Oct. 10 has been hailed as a mystical sign that the half-century-long division of the Korean peninsula is coming to an end.

“Our precious unification baby girl,” is how North Korea’s official KCNA news agency put it.

Hwang, who was more than eight months pregnant when she traveled to North Korea, spent two weeks recuperating in the maternity hospital, where she was treated without charge to around-the-clock nursing care. Her meals included seaweed soup, a Korean traditional postpartum treatment.

North Koreans suggested naming the baby Tongil, or “Reunification”; but that sounded like a boy’s name, so the parents instead opted for Kyoreh, meaning “One People.”

“Everybody said her birth was a lucky omen for the Korean people,” said Hwang, a left-wing political activist who favors rapprochement with the North.

Hwang and her daughter are the best-known South Korean visitors to Pyongyang recently. But from late September until early this month, visitors from the South came in unprecedented numbers to view mass games marking the 60th anniversary of North Kore&s ruling Workers’ Party.

During October, 7,203 South Koreans flew to North Korea on nearly 100 nonstop flights connecting the estranged neighbors.

For the first time, planes bearing the insignia of South Korea’s leading carriers, Korea Air and Asiana Air, became regular sights on the tarmac of Pyongyang’s seldom-visited Sunani airport; North Korea’s national carrier, Air Koryo, likewise was a frequent visitor to Incheon. Previously, there were only occasional charter flights between the airports for special events.

South Koreans in Pyongyang stood out in their colorful Gor-Tex jackets like exotic birds against the monochsomatic North Korean landscape. Almost all carried digital cameras, a rarity in the North.

While North Koreans trudged through the empty boulevards on foot, the South Koreans were transported in fancy tour buses, some of which sported color television monitors and video recorders.

The South Koreans were not permitted to go out unescorted and had to wear large nametags around their necks. At one point, a disoriented man in his 80s, born north of the border, tried to wander out of a Pyongyang hotel in search of his home village, but was blocked by a courteous but insistent North Korean doorman, said a South Korean visitor who witnessed the encounter.

Overall, the South Koreans said, they got the impression that North Korea was on a charm offensive. For example, when some tourists complained about a scene in the mass games that showed North Korean helicopter commandos battling what seemed to be South Korean soldiers, the material was promptly cut out.

The mass games were blatantly designed to tug at the heartstrings of South Koreans. Named “Arirang” after a popular Korean folk song, the program was replete with sentimental tunes and operatic skits about separated families reaching for one another across barbed wire. The show used more than 100,000 performers, many of them holding colored cards to make up intricate mosaics.

Keeping on message, the finale used a backdrop of doves with a message: “The last wish of the father [referring to the late North Korean founder Kim Ii Sung] is reunification of the fatherland.”

When North Koreans speak of reunification, their meaning is radically different from what Americans might think in recalling the collapse of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the absorption of the communist East by West Germany. Instead, the North Koreans describe a loose confederation under which their nation would keep its own system of government while receiving massive economic aid from the South.

“We don’t want what happened in Germany,” tour guide Pak Gyong Nam said as he showed visitors a 185-foot-high stone arch portraying two women in traditional Korean dress (one representing each Korea) touching hands across a broad thoroughfare known as Reunification Street. “We would be one country, but two governments.

“If Korea is reunified, South Korea will bring in technology and investment. We have great confidence in the future. If we are reunited, no problem.”

The sentiment explains in large part why North Koreans were so enthusiastic about the so-called unification baby.

“Have you heard about the South Korean woman who gave birth?” asked Kim Kyoung Kil, a North Korean lieutenant colonel who was escorting tourists at the demilitarized zone the day after Hwang and her newborn crossed on their way back to Seoul. “It means reunification is near. Only the Americans are preventing it.”

The reunification baby’s birth — which took place on the exact date of the 60th anniversary of the Workers’ Party founding — fits so perfectly into North Korean propaganda that many suspect it was contrived.

Hwang has issued a denial, saying that her due date was 20 days away when she made the trip and that she had scheduled a caesarean section in Seoul for the following week because of complications from a previous birth.

“Even my friends think it was planned, but it’s not so,” said Hwang, who lavished praise on the medical care and nursing she received. “They were very impressive…. Everybody was wonderfiul to me.”

Other South Korean tourists, most of whom were visiting on a two-day tour that cost $1,000, expressed mixed sentiments about their experience.

Student activists and union members who marched onto the field with a pro-reunification flag were greeted by wild applause from North Koreans in the audience.

But some of the southerners were dismayed by what they saw as an unabashed celebration of totalitarianism.

“Rather than being impressed by the extravagant brightness and precision of the mass games, I was shocked at how mechanical those people were and realized how oppressed they are,” said Lee Yong Hoon, a 62-year-old businessman from Suwon. “I realize we can’t rush into reunification until North Koreans can accept concepts of freedom and individuality.”

More than 1 million South Koreans have visited North Korea since 1998, but most have gone only to Mt. Kumgang, in a border-area enclave open to tourists.

The visits last month were the first mass influx of tourists to the North Korean capital. They coincided with a period of rapidly accelerating economic and cultural exchanges between the Koreas.

South Korea’s national assembly is expected Dec. 1 to approve a humanitarian and economic aid package for the North worth $2.5 billion — nearly double last year’s allocation. And the two announced this month that they might field a joint team for the 2008 Olympics in Beijing.

South Korea’s largesse has come under some criticism because of the North’s nuclear program, the subject of six-nation talks. The Bush administration, along with the conservative establishment inside South Korea, has taken the position that rewards should be deferred until the Pyongyang regime dismantles its nuclear weapons.

“Our government is in collusion with North Korea, creating the false illusion that all is quiet on the northern front, when it is not,” said Lee Dong Bok, a former South Korean intelligence official and assemblyman. By allowing its citizens to visit Pyongyang for mass games, he said, “South Korea is helping North Korea promote its propaganda.”

Technically, South Koreans need waivers from their country’s National Security Law — which prohibits support of North Korea— to visit Pyongyang.

Hwang Seon, the baby’s mother and a former student radical, served 34 months in South Korean prisons largely because she made an unauthorized trip to North Korea in 1998.

“The last time I came back [to South Korea] from North Korea, the National Intelligence Service was waiting for me to arrest me,” Hwang recalled. “This time, I held my baby in my arms and was welcomed back with flowers.”

Hwang’s husband was not able to meet his wife and new daughter upon their arrival home. He is in hiding, wanted by South Korean authorities on charges of pro-North Korean activities.

Posted in Mass games, Maternity Hospital, South Korea, Tourism | Comments Closed

An Employee from the Emperor Hotel in Rajin Out to Do Business in a Market Place

Monday, November 14th, 2005

Daily NK
Kim Young Jin
11/14/2005

Employees from the Emperor Hotel in the city of Rajin in North Korea are said to make their livings by doing business in market places. The hotel is well known for its casino.

On the 13th day of this month I had an interview with a manager of the hotel, who I will call Kim Myung Chul (alias, 42 years of age) for the sake of his safety. “The hotel has had much difficulty paying wages to its employees since it closed its casino in February,” he said. “It laid off about half of its 300 employees, and even some of the remaining half had to open restaurants near the hotel or start business in market places for their livings.”

The Emperor Hotel is a five star hotel founded by the Emperor Group in Hong Kong that invested about 24 million dollars in it. It is well known for the finest casino in North Korea.

For the last two years, two high raking Chinese officials have lost a large sum of government money to the casino and the Chinese government complained to the North pressing it to close it. Thus, it was closed in February, and the hotel lost many Chinese tourists. The number of Chinese tourists had been almost 20 thousands a year before. Virtually the hotel is out of business now.

Chae Moon Ho, a former head of Traffic and Transportation Office of Yanbian Autonomous Prefecture in Jilin, China squandered 3,510,000 yuan (more than 434,000 dollars) of government money in the casino and was sentenced to 8 year imprisonment at the first trial. Mr. Wang, a former superintendent of highway construction, wasted 870,000 yuan (about 107,000 dollars) of government money in the casino and was taken into custody.

After these incidents, the Chinese government had prevented travel agencies around Yanbian area from holding North Korean tourism in March this year. It lifted the ban last September.

The following is some excerpts from the interview.

– When did you start to work for the Emperor Hotel?

I have been working in the hotel since 2000. People in Rajin call it Bipa Hotel or the Five Star Hotel. When the hotel was first opened, it was run in a capitalistic way. Even hostesses from Russia and China were recruited. But they have all returned now because they could no longer get paid. It took 3 years to complete its construction. I heard that it had been intended to be a 30 story building, but it is 7 stories high because the Emperor Group cut spending. Visitors were usually foreign gamblers and those Chinese who enjoyed fish and other seafoods.

– How is business now?

Business situation became very tough after the Chinese stopped coming. Usually thousands of Chinese people visited for the summer, and Russian and Chinese gamblers constantly came and went. But since the casino was closed and the Chinese stopped coming, it has been difficult for the employees to be paid. The hotel even laid off half of its employees. At frist 300 people were recruited, but there are less than 150 employees now. Among them, less than 50, mostly janitors, cooks, Karaoche coordinators, massagists, come to the hotel to work.

– Does the owner not pay the employees?

I do not know. Even though the owner is Emperor Group from Hongkong, the employees are controlled by the Administrative Committee of Rajin city. I suppose that wages must be distributed by the civil authorities. Anyhow, I have not been able to be paid since last spring.

– What kind of people are employed in the hotel?

High ranking people were eliminated from the recruit lest they be contaminated by capitalism brought in by foreign gamblers. For example, Kim Il Sung University graduates, partisans, workers involved with law and national defense and their family members were all eliminated. Mostly tall and good looking people from Rajin were accepted.

– How are the employees paid?

At first, we were well paid. We were not rationed but received wages. Until 2000, I received 300 yuan a month. At that time, 1 yuan($0.1237) was equivalent of 25 Chosun(NK) won($0.0125), and rice was quite cheap. Hence 300 yuan made a sound pay. Moreover, we were fed three times a day and allowed to sleep in the hotel, which was considerable benefits for us. But while business was getting difficult, employees were being turned into 8.3 workers one after another. Finally, payment started to be incomplete from last February. We could just take three meals a day thanks to the money the 8.3 workers gave to the hotel.

– What is 8.3 worker?

The hotel forced some of its employees to earn money all by themselves and to give some part of it to the hotel. 8.3 worker is called so because Kim Il Sung ordered the system during a factory visit on a third day of August.

– How do 8.3 workers earm money?

Some workers opened restaurants near the hotel, and others merchandize in market places. There are people like me who are out here in China and do business with old customers. Chinese tourists like to eat fish and other seafoods in Rajin. That’s why 8.3 workers like to open seafood restaurants near the hotel calling them branch restaurants of the hotel. There are more than 10 such restaurants near the hotel. There are also a few souvenir shops. If they earn money, they give some of it to the hotel. Those who merchandize are just like that. If you give some money to the hotel every month, you are not required to go there to work.

– Does the money go to Emperor Group?

No. It goes to the Administrative Committee of Rajin city. The hotel is just a Work Place: we are not under the owner’s control. We are required to take permission from the Administrative Committee to work outside the hotel.

– Do 8.3 workers make much money?

It is advantageous for business to be an employee for the hotel. We do not pay such heavy taxes as ordinary merchandizers do. It is also easier for us to occupy stalls in market places than for ordinary merchandisers.

– What is people’s life like in Rajin recently?

Outsiders envy Rajin and Seonbong because they compose the free trade zone, but the situation is on the contrary. The government takes more from Rajin and Seonbong because of the free trade. Rice is also more expensive. They are good places for the rich to live in but not for the poor.

Posted in China, Economic reform, Foreign direct investment, Gambling, Hoteling, Labor conditions/wages, Rason Economic and Trade Zone (Rajin-Sonbong), Tourism | Comments Closed

North Korea Urges Women to Wear Dresses

Friday, November 11th, 2005

Associated Press
11/4/2005

North Korea’s communist government is urging women in the country to wear traditional Korean clothes instead of pants, according to a North Korean monthly magazine.

“Keeping alive our dress style is a very important political issue to adhere to specific national cultural traditions at a time when the U.S. imperialists are maneuvering to spread the rotten bourgeois lifestyle inside North Korea,” the Joson Yeosung (Woman) magazine said, according to South Korea’s Yonhap news agency.

The magazine said exotic dress dampens the revolutionary atmosphere in society and blurs national sentiment and asked the public to reject clothes that aren’t North Korean style. Instead, it counsels women to wear Hanbok — the brightly colored, loose-fitting dresses that are traditional in the Koreas.

The campaign comes as North Korea struggles to tighten its control over an influx of outside influences, which it claims is part of a U.S. psychological offensive aimed at toppling the communist regime — a charge Washington denies.

Early this year, the North also launched a social campaign against men with long hair, calling them unhygienic, anti-socialist fools.

The North, which demands unquestioning allegiance of its citizens and controls all media, has stepped up the ideological education of its people to counter outside influences. However, the country’s loosely controlled border with China has led recently to increased traffic in smuggled recordings of music and videos from the outside.

Posted in Civil society, Clothing | Comments Closed

North Koreans Are Changing

Friday, October 28th, 2005

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.

Posted in Agriculture, Civil society, Economic reform | Comments Closed

Rallying round to boost Korean harvest

Friday, October 28th, 2005

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”.

Posted in Agriculture, Civil society, Foreign aid statistics, International Aid, Public Distribiution System (PDS), UN World Food Program | Comments Closed

N Korea admits South kidnappings

Tuesday, October 25th, 2005

BBC
10/25/2005

North Korea has admitted it is holding 21 South Koreans either captured during the 1950-53 Korean War or subsequently, the South Korean government has said.
Seoul had pressed the North about 52 POWs and 51 citizens it believes were abducted after the war.

Seoul has been raising the issue for decades, but has recently been wary of campaigning too hard for fear of damaging relations, analysts say.

It is not clear why the normally secretive North Korea has responded.

“North Korea has confirmed there are 11 abductees and 10 prisoners of war alive in the North,” a South Korean Unification Ministry official told Reuters news agency on condition of anonymity.

Of the other South Koreans whom Seoul had inquired about, the North said 10 kidnapped citizens and six POWs were dead, and the rest unaccounted for.

Many people in South Korea believe around 1,000 South Koreans are alive in the North.

These include more than 540 POWs, according to the Red Cross.

Reunions

A number of the kidnapped South Koreans will be able to see their families again during the next round of reunions between relatives who ended up on different sides of the Korean border after the war ended, Yonhap news agency reported. This is scheduled for 5-10 November.

Japan also believes its citizens are being held in the North against their will.

It has been much more vociferous in its inquiries, and in 2002 Pyongyang admitted it had abducted 13 Japanese citizens in the 1970s and 80s, but said eight of them had since died.

The five still alive returned to Japan three years ago, but Tokyo questions whether the others are really dead, and believes there may be yet more held captive in the North.

Posted in Civil society, Political economy, South Korea | Comments Closed

The North Korean ‘Salaryman’

Tuesday, October 11th, 2005

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
10/11/2005

“How much do they earn there, in the North?” “What are North Korean salaries now?” These questions come naturally, even if people are aware that in a socialist economy the formal size of one’s salary is less significant an indicator of wealth than it is in capitalism.
Under socialism, access to goods is at least as important as the amount of money in somebody’s possession. Since retail prices in the socialist economies tend to be subsidized, this means that many goods are not readily available in shops, but are distributed by the state bureaucracy instead. Thus, people who are deemed more deserving get such goods… goods that are not available to the “less valuable” people.

A party bureaucrat and a skilled worker often might have roughly similar salaries in a socialist economy, but their actual consumption levels may be vastly different. Apart from bureaucrats, another group of people who have privileged access to commodities are people employed in the retail system. They always can divert some goods from the public distribution system and use them either for their own consumption, or for barter with those who control other valuable commodities. Thus, the position of a sale clerk is seen as very prestigious occupation in the North.

The 2002 reforms (never called “reforms” in the North Korean press) dramatically changed the structure of wages and prices in the country. For a while it was not clear what the current price and wages levels were, but recent research by the World Food Program seems to answer a few questions. Now we know what was regarded as “normal” wages in 2004.

According to the survey, most types of low-paid workers earn between 1,700 and 2,500 won per month, with an average estimated at 2,100. Low-level professional jobs such as clerks and teachers at nursery and primary schools earn between 1,400 and 2,000 won per month. The average old age pension is just 900 won; women, in particular housewives, sometimes get pensions as low as 300_400 won.

The official exchange rate is 1,700 won per Euro (they to play down the significance of the imperialist dollar, so exchange rates are usually quoted in euros). However, throughout 2004, the actual exchange rate fluctuated between 1,600 and 2,200. This means that the average pension was something like 50 cents a month, with a nursery teacher earning as little as one dollar a month. This is not as bad as it sounds, since prices are also relatively cheap. But this is still pretty bad…

Most of the people who draw salaries live in the cities (some 70% of the North Koreans are inhabitants of urban areas), and rely on the public distribution system for their survival. The system, which almost ceased to function a few years ago, obviously has made a moderate comeback. Since all data in the secretive North is classified, nothing is known for sure, but it seems that in early 2005, the Public Distribution System was “the main source of cereals for the 70 per cent of the population living in urban areas” (such was an estimate by the FAO, a U.N. food agency).

Still, the official rations are hardly generous. According to the WFP, in early 2005 rations were cut to 250 grams per person per day _ 40 per cent of the internationally recommended minimum. People have to purchase food on the markets, and this food is expensive, with rice costing some 500 won a kilo.

According to the FAO report, “the income of cooperative farmers from the annual obligatory crop sales to the Government varies greatly from one farm to another, resulting in monthly incomes per person ranging from 500 won to 4000 won.” But farmers can also substantially increase their income by selling the produce from their kitchen gardens, and by hillside farming which is done on the steep slopes of the mountains. The latter activity has become common in the North over the past decade. It is formally forbidden but done nonetheless, and it seems that a large part of the hillside produce goes outside the public distribution system.

Unemployment is quite high, but it is hidden. Formally, everybody has a job, but a persistent shortage of raw materials, spare parts, machinery, and power supplies means that few factories actually operate at full capacity. In many cases people come to their factories and offices and sit there idly, spending just a couple of hours a day doing some meaningful work. They still have to come, since otherwise they could lose access to food rations, and this would make their situation impossible, probably even threatening their physical survival.

According to interviews with officials, and other information garnered, the WFP estimated that some 30 percent of the North Korean workers are either permanently or temporarily underemployed or unemployed.

As usual, women are more likely to become unemployed. But perhaps they do not mind. Why? Well, is it possible for a family to survive, even on two salaries, if the official income can merely buy eight kilos of rice to augment the distributed 200 grams? Of course, the answer is “no”, and even in the most difficult circumstances people need more than just rice. Hence, the survival strategy of most families depends heavily on the efforts of their women. While formally seen as “unemployed housewives”, women produce most of the income, ensuring the family’s survival. Indeed, the new-born North Korean capitalism has a female face. But that is another story…

Posted in 2002 Economic reforms, Agriculture, Civil society, Labor conditions/wages, Political economy, Public Distribiution System (PDS), UN Food and Agriculture Organization | Comments Closed

Often-gloomy North Korea shows a sunnier side

Monday, October 10th, 2005

Herald Tribune
Choe Sang-Hun
10/10/2005

Here in the North Korean capital, where ubiquitous slogans posted on deserted boulevards and carved into mammoth towers give the city the look of an off-season theme park dedicated to a bygone ideology, one message is conspicuously absent these days.

There is no mural showing muscular North Korean soldiers stabbing American troops with bayonets, as there once was. No longer is there a billboard depicting a North Korean missile slamming into Capitol Hill in Washington. And there are no shrill slogans exhorting North Koreans to prepare for “a final battle with American imperialist aggressors,” as they did in the past.

“It is true that we have removed anti-American slogans,” said Hong Sung Chul, one of the North Korean officials who recently escorted a group of South Koreans on a tour of the North. “We hope the Americans reciprocate our good will.”

Hong said the removal of anti-American slogans was part of North Korea’s effort to cultivate a favorable atmosphere amid six-party talks aimed at ending North Korea’s nuclear weapons program. A new round of negotiations is scheduled for November.

But it is still a toss-up as to whether the banished imagery was part of an official campaign to recast the most enduring feature of North Korean psyche, the fear and loathing of Americans, or just a publicity effort for visitors.

Either way, the revamping of propaganda in North Korea’s showpiece capital was as much a sign of change here as the busloads of foreign tourists rushing through the once-forbidden city. These modest indicators offer a glimpse into a country that is gradually regaining confidence after years of famine and after tentatively increasing its contacts with the outside world.

Pyongyang is not a mirror of the rest of the country. The government stocks the city with politically reliable citizens and keeps its living standard much higher than elsewhere. But in the sales pitches and bargaining of store clerks and the relaxed manner of Communist minders escorting visitors, eager to polish their government’s image, a new measure of optimism was palpable among the country’s elite.

The government minders, part tour guides and part public relations officers for the regime, talked about the importance of rebuilding the North Korean economy and attracting foreign investment with the same rehearsed spontaneity that North Koreans once recited anti-American diatribes.

As North Korea prepared to celebrate Monday the 60th anniversary of the ruling Workers’ Party, throngs of students and citizens have been mobilized daily to rehearse for a massive outdoor rally. Streets were festooned with red-and-yellow party flags emblazoned with the images of a hammer, sickle and calligrapher’s brush.

For almost two months, the authorities have also brought thousands of people into Pyongyang in North Korea’s version of a pilgrimage to Mecca. Here, the faithful were treated with an “Arirang” extravaganza, the closest thing to an Olympic opening ceremony in North Korea, but one with a decidedly totalitarian flavor.

In an unusual gesture of openness, the North Koreans this year opened the show to outsiders, accepting hundreds of them daily, mostly from South Korea, in a scheme driven not simply by a desire to educate outsiders on North Korean socialism, but also by commercialism.

For these outsiders, the trip was an occasion to witness the country’s cautious and clumsy steps into the outside world even as the North is still burdened with the ideas of an outmoded era. Unwittingly or not, North Korea, by opening itself to well-fed South Koreans wielding digital cameras and bursting with U.S. dollars, was casting itself as one of the world’s weirdest tourist destinations.

In between visits to Communist monuments, tourists were ushered into souvenir shops where smiling beauties sold everything from mushrooms to “adder liquor,” a leaky bottle of fiery alcohol with a dead snake in it. The women extolled the concoction’s purported effectiveness as an aphrodisiac and only accepted euros and U.S. dollars.

The South Korean tourists spent profusely, buying goods whose main attraction was neither quality nor prices, but rather the flimsy packaging and outdated design: perfect I-have-been-there mementos from the world’s last remaining “socialist paradise.”

North Korea demands that all visitors start their trip to Pyongyang by bowing before the 23-meter-tall, or 75-foot-high, brass statue of Kim Il Sung, the first ruler of North Korea.

On a recent trip, however, South Korean tourists stood upright before the statue, some with hands in pockets, some clicking digital cameras, as an official solemnly bid them to bow. If North Korean minders were enraged, they did not show it.

But questioning revealed the minders’ unique take on their country’s problems with the outside world.

“People in South Korea and the rest of the world don’t understand us,” complained Hong. “We know some countries ridicule us for our economic difficulties. We want to rebuild our economy fast. How good will it be if we can use the money spent for our nuclear weapons to buy rice for our people. But we can’t.

“We saw what the Americans did to Iraq,” Hong continued. “What option would a small country like us have but to build nuclear weapons when a big bully is determined to strangle us and gang up on us?”

Park Man Gil, a North Korean official, stressed his country’s desire for greater contact with its neighbor. “We want more economic cooperation with South Korea,” he said.

The North’s desire to make connection to the outside world was confirmed – vigorously, in fact – by a South Korean executive.

“You always hear two voices here. On one hand, they lash out at the United States; on the other hand, they are conciliatory,” said Park Sang Kwon, president of Pyeonghwa Motors of South Korea, which runs an auto-assembly factory in North Korea. “As a person who has dealt with the North Koreans more often than any other from the outside, I can say with certainty that the North Koreans really want to be accepted by, and live with, the Americans.”

Posted in Civil society, Mass games, USA | Comments Closed

In North Korea’s isolated tourist zone, a temple rises

Tuesday, October 4th, 2005

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.”

Posted in Civil society, Economic reform, Foreign direct investment, Mt. Kumgang Tourist Special Zone, Religion, Special Economic Zones (Established before 2013), Tourism | Comments Closed

Last orders, please

Monday, October 3rd, 2005

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.

Posted in Agriculture, Civil society, International Aid, Restaurants, UNDP | Comments Closed

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