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 PYONGYANG
WATCH
The sounds of silence:
A
Pyongyang-watcher's
fits and
starts
By Aidan Foster-Carter
This column is a bit different from the norm.
(If anyone as undisciplined as this writer can be said
to have anything as normal as a norm.) Rather than a
Pyongyang Watch, this is a Pyongyang watcher-watch.
Yes folks, it's finally happened. Years - nay,
decades - of prolonged immersion in the onanistic (look
it up. Old Testament, Book of Genesis, chapter 38, verse
9. Good word, no?) world of North Korea has taken its
toll, and gone to my head. If Kim Jong-il and his
fawning sycophants, in their paradoxically
Californiesque introverted looking-glass world, can
fantasize that their puny perverse little crackpot
kingdom is the center of the universe, then hey, let's
all do the same. Egoists of all countries, unite!
So stand by for the Thoughts of Chairman
Foster-Carter. Would you like the 60-volume complete
set, or the executive summary in just five fat tomes? Or
how about Great General AFC inspecting his loyal troops
on the front line? Memoirs of how I single-handedly
vanquished Hitler, Stalin, Lady Thatcher and Attila the
Hun to liberate the groaning masses and establish the
People's Republic of Yorkshire, where smiling
cloth-capped workers breed ferrets and munch black
pudding to their heart's content?
But seriously.
So far from 60 volumes, or even one little article a
week as it used to be, you may have noticed that this
column's appearance has become irregular and infrequent
in recent months. I just thought that loyal readers (as
opposed to royal leaders), not to mention Asia Times
Online's patient and long-suffering editors, deserved an
explanation.
I promise not to make a habit of
such self-indulgence. Yet I think and hope that, just
this once, the conditions of production (or
non-production) of a column may be of wider interest. So
come with me for a peek behind the scenes, as a
Pyongyang-watcher bares his soul. (You'd never catch Kim
Jong-il doing that, would you?) But be warned: It's not
a pretty sight.
I didn't intend for this column
to become erratic; it just happened. Some of the reasons
are banal. One is sheer overwork. The freelance life is
unpredictable, with work like the proverbial London bus:
none for ages, and then three come at once. Also, I am
the world's most disorganized person; thus when the
pressure piles on, something has to give. The folks at
ATol are kind, so they have borne the brunt.
So
far, so boring. But there's more to it than that. I
don't know about you, but for me, personal energy as
much as time is key to life. And my energy levels
fluctuate widely, nay wildly. Probably I'm at least
mildly manic-depressive. On top form, I can turn out
vast quantities of (I hope) reasonable quality. Some
Korean muse possesses me, and it just pours out. It's
hard to tear myself away from the laptop.
Those
are the peaks. They used to be much more frequent. The
troughs will be familiar to anyone who suffers from
depression. On a bad day, you can't even get out of bed.
The freelance life is thus more accommodating, for us
depressives, than the 9 to 5 - or 6, or 7 - drudge that
is most people's lot. That is one reason why, some years
ago, I left the academy to pursue my personal
juche (as you might say).
But again, I'm
not so narcissistic as to think my personal mental and
emotional state matters to anyone else except family and
friends. What is more widely interesting, perhaps, is
why energy levels fluctuate so. Maybe it's just the
endorphins whizzing around, or whatever endorphins do.
But surely that process itself must have causes, as well
as effects.
As you may imagine, I think a lot
about this. No one likes being unwell, nor letting
people down. So here are some tentative hypotheses as to
why your Pyongyang-watcher has gone AWOL recently.
One is that he feels stale. By contrast, when I
first offered this column to Asia Times Online three
years ago, it was because there seemed to be a lot to
say about North Korea, and I really wanted to say it.
Well over 100 articles later - enough for a book, but no
way can I write books: sprint yes, marathon no - I kind
of feel I've shot my bolt, and risk repeating myself.
Regular readers surely know my take on every single bit
of it by now. You're tired of reading it, and I'm tired
of writing it. (On a bad day.)
A second reason
for silence contradicts this first one. (Hey, I told you
I'm confused.) Your Pyongyang-watcher may have become
predictable, but Pyongyang itself is not. Or rather,
even as North Korea goes on and on and on in seemingly
unchanging manner, I feel increasingly unsure what the
hell is going on. Awful confession: Deep down, this
so-called expert fears that he really doesn't have a
clue anymore.
And perhaps never did. I've never
made any secret of feeling underqualified for the Korea
career that has come my way. As explained in a column
two years ago (A Pyongyang-watcher confesses,
July 31, 2001), I got into all this by accident and a
circuitous route. I'm untrained in Korea, have never
lived there, and don't even have usable language skills.
What on earth am I doing, pontificating like this? I'm
sure many Koreans, and proper Koreanists, must ask this,
as they have every right to.
Some answers. Don't
be fooled by any seeming know-it-all arrogance of tone.
That's just a rhetorical trope: sounding confident goes
with the territory. (By contrast, you surely wouldn't
want every column to read like this one?) Anyhow, that
kind of self-assurance was bred into me at what we Brits
call, with ineffable hypocrisy, our public schools -
meaning private schools. But now you know, because I've
given the game away. As an author, I claim no special
authority. Behind the smooth mask and (I hope) sparkling
prose, I'm really every bit as uncertain and confused as
the next person. Never forget that.
Yet
obviously I think I have something to say, or I wouldn't
have the gall to be here in the first place. Experience
counts, I hope. Having followed North Korea for 35 years
- just think: I could have had a life instead - at least
means you acquire a certain background, and maybe a
little depth (well hidden).
Also, I do try to
give it to you straight. One thing I'm proud of - yup,
this ain't all confessionals and breast-beating - is
that this column is, as best I can make it, an
ideology-free zone. Some commentators always know
exactly what is happening in North Korea, a
priori. Either Kim Jong-il is going to hell in a
handbasket and good riddance, or he is inching toward
reform and must be stuffed with more carrots. In most
cases, they derive this conclusion less from the facts,
which they often deploy selectively, than from broader
political ideologies of right and center-left
respectively. How I envy their self-assurance.
Nope, not really. Readers who have followed this
column will know that I oscillate between these two
poles. Inconsistent? Guilty, m'lud. But in mitigation:
At least my mind is open - as, more important, is North
Korea's future history. It really could go either way.
The analyst's task is to filter constantly the latest
information (murky as it is) and endlessly review his or
her hypotheses and frameworks. That is hard work, both
physically and emotionally draining. It may also mean
giving up cherished hopes and beliefs - what price the
Sunshine Policy now, eh? - if the facts suggest they
simply haven't worked.
Oh, it would be far
easier, and more comfortable, to trot out through thick
and thin a fixed world-view that you simply dust off and
apply mechanically, whatever the situation. (Ever
noticed how I enjoy a seriously mixed metaphor stew, by
the way?) But that, for me, is trahison des
clercs: a betrayal of the intellectual's duty of
honesty. Dear reader, I may desert you now and then. But
I shall not betray you.
So: I'm stale, and
confused. I'm also scared, and fed up. The ongoing North
Korean nuclear crisis, over a year old now with no end
in sight, has taken its toll too. I love Korea
passionately - God only knows why - but from a safe
distance, and I fear for the future. With any luck it
won't all go horribly wrong; but it might. Looking at
the current political leadership in Pyongyang, Seoul and
Washington alike, do you feel reassured that safe, sane,
farsighted and competent hands are holding the tillers?
Me neither.
And fed up? Sometimes I feel I've
been doing this too long: 35 years, my entire adult
life. I bought my first book on North Korea, on a whim,
back in - inevitably - 1968, that rebel year. (I was a
revolting student.) Little did I know where it would
lead. Had I known, maybe I'd have put it back on the
shelf ...
What I'm getting at here is the
complex and mixed feelings that, I suspect, many area
specialists have about their object of study. It's
weird, really, to be this wrapped up in a country not
your own - particularly if you don't live there, and
haven't (as many do) married someone of that origin.
Actually, this relationship is rather like a marriage. I
love Korea, but sometimes I hate Korea. Either way I'm
stuck with it; but I chose that, or it chose me, and
deep down I wouldn't have it any other way. I think.
Note I say Korea, not North Korea. As to the
latter, a further twist and worry is that, frankly, I
have to work hard to stop myself hating North Korea. (I
mean the government, of course, not the long-suffering
people.) But honestly, what other reaction is right to a
regime that is negation incarnate: starving its own
people, menacing the rest of us, doing its worst on all
fronts and refusing to wise up?
So I admit
resenting every minute of my life spent wading through
the crapulous official discourse of the Pyongyang Times,
KCNA (Korean Central News Agency), etc etc. But somebody
has to do it. And like those famished North Korean
prisoners who are reduced to going through animal dung
in the hope of finding the odd ear of undigested corn -
mm, tasty! - now and then you do get lucky.
And
now you really must excuse me, but duty calls. There's a
fresh cowpat in the field outside, and I'm off to delve.
Should I find anything exciting, rest assured I'll wave
it under your nose. And no, I shan't wash it off or
sanitize it first: you'll get the real thing, whole and
entire, a multi-sensory experience, true synesthesia.
(What on earth is he on about?) Must dash. See you
later. And thanks for listening.
Meanwhile, go
read the rest of this great site. In my under-the-duvet
moments, one great consolation is knowing that Asia
Times Online readers will not want for coverage of
Korea. Unlike three years ago, ATol now has an extensive
stable of fine writers on the peninsula, with a
fascinating variety of backgrounds and perspectives. At
this rate, maybe I can retire - one of these years. When
Kim Jong-il does, perhaps. Until then, I'll do my best
to stay on the case. I want to see how it ends: don't
you?
Aidan Foster-Carter is honorary
senior research fellow in sociology and modern Korea,
Leeds University, England.
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