A deeply militarized zion

North Korea consumed with oppression and corruption

by Peter Huisman

In the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), a.k.a. North Korea, the whites of people’s eyes are blinding. A half-look from the corner of the eye is what goes for a common glance. This mild yet manic motion fosters a general sense of suspicion. But, strangely enough, this place doesn’t reek of fear. Desperation rules here.

North Korean officials, namely the ones with the phat Rolexes, publicly claim that food is “abundant” thanks to the “man-centred” Juche philosophy and “military-first” Songun politics. They don’t mention the collapse of the food ration system a decade ago, the ensuing private markets or the oppressive inflation. Nor do they dare mention the millions of tonnes of food aid from the “three enemies”: South Korea, Japan and the United States. Aid sacks are common sights throughout the country—almost as common as AK-47s.

However, lots of shots of soju can distil sober admissions of problems: One DPRK official privately admitted that, from a population of 23 million, eight million rely on food aid for essential sustenance. The UN’s World Food Programme says 40 per cent of North Korean children are stunted, 20 per cent are underweight and eight per cent suffer from wasting.

Just recently, Kim “sun of the 21st century” Jong-il, supreme commander of the million man Korean People’s Army, cut rations for 16 million proles from 300 grams of cereals a day to 250 grams. Compared to the depths of the recent famine, this is progress.

From the late 1980s to the late 1990s, a conservative estimate is that between 500,000 and three million North Koreans starved to death. The plump Thought Policeman I questioned about the famine (a.k.a. the Arduous March) mouthed the official explanation: “bad weather.” Like Milli Vanilli, they blame it on the rain.

For a few weeks in July 2004, I filmed the DPRK-sponsored Reunification March for Korea’s Peace and Independence. ABC News producer Andrew Morse was also along for the trip.

“North Korea has suffered an economic disaster,” he told his video camera. “Tut-tut!” scorned the Thought Police. “That’s the UN’s wording,” replied Morse, who changed the phrase to “economic hardship.”

Because of this, and several other perceived slights, the Thought Police ransacked his hotel room, smashed his laptop, seized his videotapes and threatened to have him hunted down in China. His signature on a pre-written confession bought his freedom to leave the country.

Think you’re arduous enough to march through this bizarre bazaar of gluttony, hunger, smiles and spies?

If so, visit Korea-DPR.com (Home of the Thought Police) and find your way to the Reunification March page.