SEOUL - Once every two or three years the world media are flooded with reports
about Kim Jong-il's alleged illness or even death. Since the relevant
information is, arguably, the best-guarded secret of the world's most secretive
state, one should not be too surprised when most of these reports are soon to
prove false.
We face another wave of such rumors. However, this time the situation might be
more serious. Reports about Kim's illness appeared in early September. First,
it was the publications of the South Korean media, whose journalists probably
learned something from Seoul government agencies. Then, some details began to
emerge, and the governments of both South Korea and the United States, in an
unusual move, confirmed they had some
intelligence about Kim's sickness.
Finally, Kim did not show up last week on the 60th anniversary of the North
Korean state, another sign of problems in Pyongyang. So, taking all this in
consideration, we might suspect that this time the rumors probably have some
substance: Kim is unwell. Perhaps, he even suffered a stroke, though it is
difficult to take at face value all those excessively detailed reports of his
health and gradual recovery which appeared in the media.
Well, he is sick, so what? What else can one expect if a person is 66 years
old, works hard, had an excessively troublesome youth and perhaps suffers from
diabetes and kidney decease?
Judging by the calm in Pyongyang, nobody there expects that Kim is to leave
this world any time soon. However, the recent media hype once again was a
useful reminder: Kim is mortal, and sooner or later another report about his
death will be correct.
Now Pyongyangologists are guessing at who will become the next leader. Since we
know almost nothing about Pyongyang's inner circle, such talk is not well
founded. However, there are things about which slightly more educated guesses
can be made. One of those problems is the issue of whether the eventual
departure of the god-like Dear Leader will lead to a peaceful transition of
power, or whether it will spark a violent crisis.
At first glance, North Korea seems to be society ripe for revolution. Indeed,
in few other countries has the government failed so spectacularly, at least in
managing the economy and taking care of the well-being of the people, or even
physical survival.
For all practical purposes, the North Korean economy has collapsed: its
industrial output is probably half of what it was two decades ago. The famine
of the late 1990s killed between 600,000 and 1 million people and can be seen
as the worst humanitarian disaster East Asia has experienced in decades. The
income gap between the country and its neighbors is huge and keeps growing.
According to more optimistic estimates, per capita gross domestic product in
South Korea is 17 times the North Korean level - some experts believe the real
difference might be as high as 1:50. Nonetheless, the regime remains firmly in
control and, as most observers agree, faces no immediate domestic threats.
What are the reasons of this stability? Revolutions seldom happen when people's
lives are so hard. When people are striving to survive, they do not think much
about political actions. To revolt, they need to see some alternatives to their
current mode of existence, they need organization, however rudimentary, and
they also need to believe that protests will not be crushed immediately by the
overwhelming force of the government.
Revolutions usually begin when the ruling elite either belatedly attempts
half-baked and inconclusive reforms (thus admitting that system is not prefect,
but not giving enough to the dissatisfied populace) or the leaders showed signs
of internal disunity. In North Korea, none of these conditions is met. The
elite is united, grassroots social activity of any kind is not tolerated,
alternatives to the current existence remain largely unknown to the public.
It is true that over the past two decades a certain amount of liberalization
has taken place. However, society remains highly controlled and the authorities
do not tolerate any kind of independent social or cultural activity, even of an
ostensibly non-political nature.
This constitutes a great difference from Eastern Europe or the Soviet Union of
the 1970s, in which music societies, chess clubs, rock bands or - in more
permissive regimes - even church groups could operate without much interference
from the authorities. Eventually, these groups provided networks through which
an anti-system resistances could develop and organize.
The North Korean media often explain that excessive permissiveness was
responsible for the collapse of the communist regimes of Eastern Europe. As
recent as May 15, Rodong Sinmun, the regime's major mouthpiece, reminded its
readers in a lengthy article, "The collapse of the East European socialist
countries was obviously the result of the imperialists' vicious ideological and
cultural poisoning and deceptive psychological warfare designed to bring down
socialism."
To fight this, the newspaper insisted, there was a need "to maintain the
highest degree of vigilance against the imperialists' psychological warfare and
intensify the working class education and revolutionary education of the
people, youth and children in particular".
It would be too easy to describe the North Korean leaders as paranoid control
freaks, but this is not really the case: their fears are well-justified. The
existence of a rich and free South Korea creates a situation which is
dramatically different from that of China or Vietnam. Pyongyang leaders are
afraid that if the North Korean populace learns about the scale of the economic
gap which exists between themselves and their southern brethren, the regime
will instantly loose its legitimacy and might be overthrown. This seems to be a
well-founded worry.
The unity of the elite is another factor contributing to the regime's
stability. In most dictatorships there is the possibility of ambitious
officials or, more likely, military officers trying to replace a failing
dictator. In North Korea, such chances are small.
This does not mean that all North Korean generals or top officials are loyal to
the Dear Leader and his august family. This unity is driven by clear-cut
political calculations, with the existence of South Korea once again being a
decisive factor. And if a challenge to the regime from within the leadership
were successful, a coup would likely destabilize the system.
However, in the event of its collapse, both reformists and conservatives would
face a similar fate: they would lose all power and privileges, since a collapse
would likely lead to the absorption of the country by the prosperous South. If
this happened, the former North Korean bosses - even the most "liberal" of them
- would be very unlikely to remain in control.
This does not mean the current stability will continue forever. First, as
subversive information from overseas gradually spreads inside the country, so
the official mythology is increasingly seen as a lie. Second, the elite has
lost much of its initial zeal, and it is ridden with rampant corruption. And
finally, Kim Jong-il is mortal, as recent events reminded us.
It is also important that for some mysterious reason Kim has not appointed a
successor. Kim's apprenticeship as a junior leader lasted over two decades,
from the early 1970s to 1994, and it is probable that his successor, even if
appointed tomorrow, would not have comparable time to create his own power
base. Therefore, Kim can be expected to die without a successor, or with a
successor who would have not established a power base.
When the Dear Leader dies, the top officials and generals who are now united
around him as a necessary symbol will be exposed to the great temptation of
vying for power. This is certain to lead to cracks appearing in their unity,
which will be a signal to the populace that resistance is not futile any more.
Ideally, the next leader should be chosen by the elite within a few days of
Kim's death so the people face the same regime, albeit with another great
general at the top. However, it remains doubtful that Pyongyang's movers and
shakers will be able to act that fast and demonstrate such a level of unity.
After all, they are politicians, and this means they are ambitious people.
When Kim dies, the fate of his country will be resolved very fast, in a matter
of days. If unity is preserved, the system will continue. If conflicts between
generals and top leaders spill into the open, leading perhaps to violent
clashes, the regime will face a grave, if not mortal threat. Popular
dissatisfaction might find ways to express itself, and the system will start
unraveling fast, leading to complete chaos and, perhaps, to the intervention of
outside forces.
Andrei Lankov is an associate professor in Kookmin University, Seoul, and
adjunct research fellow at the Research School of Pacifica and Asian Studies,
Australian National University. He graduated from Leningrad State University
with a PhD in Far Eastern history and China, with emphasis on Korea. He has
published books and articles on Korea and North Asia.
(Copyright 2008 Asia Times Online (Holdings) Ltd. All rights reserved. Please
contact us about
sales, syndication and
republishing.)
Head
Office: Unit B, 16/F, Li Dong Building, No. 9 Li Yuen Street East,
Central, Hong Kong Thailand Bureau:
11/13 Petchkasem Road, Hua Hin, Prachuab Kirikhan, Thailand 77110
