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3 North Korea turns back the
clock By Andrei Lankov
North Korean leaders are now able to
contemplate re-Stalinization of their country.
However, it remains to be seen whether
they will succeed, since the North Korean society
has changed much in the 12 years since the death
of Kim Il-sung. New social forces have emerged,
and the general mood has changed as well.
When in the mid-1990s the food rations
stopped coming, previously forbidden or strictly
controlled private trade became the
only
survival strategy available for a majority of
North Koreans. The society experienced a sudden
and explosive growth of grassroots capitalist
economy, which by the late 1990s nearly replaced
the "regular" Stalinist economy - at least,
outside Pyongyang.
Apart from trade in a
strict sense, North Korea's "new entrepreneurs"
are engaged in running small workshops, inns and
canteens, as well as in providing all kinds of
services. Another important part of the "second
economy" is food production from individual plots,
hitherto nearly absent from North Korea (from the
late 1950s, farmers were allowed only tiny plots,
not exceeding 100 square meters, sufficient only
to grow some spices).
In many cases, the
new business penetrates the official bureaucracy.
While officials are not normally allowed to run
their own business operations, some do, and as the
line between the private and state businesses is
becoming murky, the supposedly state-run companies
make deals with private traders, borrow money on
the black market and so on.
As one would
expect, a new merchant class has emerged as a
result of these changes. Nowadays an exceptionally
successful North Korean entrepreneur would operate
with capital reaching $100,000 (a fortune in a
country where the average monthly salary is merely
few dollars). Such mini-tycoons are very few and
far between, but incomes measured in $100 a month
are earned by many more merchants, and nearly all
North Korean families earn at least a part of
their income through the "second economy".
These changes have produced a major
psychological shift. The old assumptions about
society are dead. After many decades of existence
under the patronizing control of a Stalinist
state, North Koreans discovered that one can live
without going to an office to get next month's
food coupons. They also learned a lot more about
the outside world. Smuggled South Korean
videotapes are important, if dangerous,
merchandise in the North Korean markets.
Contacts with China are necessary for a
successful business, and these contacts bring not
only goods for sale but also rumors about overseas
life. And, of course, the vendors are the first
people within living memory who became successful
outside the official system. One of these former
merchants recently told me: "Those who once
attempted to trade, came to like it. Until now,
[North Koreans] knew that only cadres could live
well, while others should be content with eating
grass gruel, but now merchants live better than
cadres, and they feel proud of themselves."
It seems that in recent months we have
seen the very first signs of the social activity
displayed by this new social group. Early last
month, a large group of outraged merchants
gathered in front of the local office in the city
of Hoiryong, demanding to talk to the
representatives of the authorities.
The
Hoiryong riot was strictly non-political. A few
months ago the local officials collected payments
from the market vendors, promising to use the
money for refurbishing the old market. However,
the market was suddenly closed instead of being
refurbished (perhaps as part of the ongoing
crackdown on private commercial activities). The
outraged vendors gathered near the market and
demanded a refund.
The crowd was soon
dispersed, and more active participants of the
protest were arrested. Had a similar incident
happened elsewhere, it would probably not have
warranted more than a short newspaper report, but
in North Korea this was an event of tremendous
significance, the first time in decades that North
Koreans openly and loudly expressed their
dissatisfaction with a decision of the
authorities.
In March 2005, a soccer riot
in Pyongyang demonstrated that North Koreans are
quite capable of breaking the law, but during that
event the popular wrath was provoked by a
foreigner, a Syrian referee, and could be
construed as an outpouring of nationalistic
sentiments (the soccer fans soon began to fight
police, however). This time, in Hoiryong, a large
group of North Koreans clearly challenged the
state bureaucracy. Perhaps nothing like it has
happened since the 1950s.
However, the
growing power and social independence of the
merchants is not the major problem the North
Korean neo-Stalinists have to face. They deal with
a society that has changed much, not least because
of the penetration of modern technology, which
facilitates the spread of information. The key
role is played by the Chinese border, which is
almost uncontrolled and has become an area of
widespread smuggling.
Small radio sets are
widely smuggled from China, so much so that a
defector recently said: "In North Korea, nowadays
every official has a radio set in his house." This
is new, since until the early 1990s all North
Korean radios were fixed so that they could
receive only official broadcasts. Theoretically,
radio sets with free tuning are still banned, but
this is not enforced. These radios sets are used
to listen to foreign broadcasts, especially from
South Korea.
Videocassette recorders are
common as well. No statistics are available, but
it seems that nearly half of all households in the
borderland area and a smaller but significant
number of
