North Korea's Overtures Will Do Little to Allay Its Vast Problems
By Michael Schuman
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
October 27, 2000PYONGYANG, North Korea -- For the hermit kingdom of North Korea, this year has been a kind of diplomatic coming-out. First there was June's astonishing summit with South Korea, then this week's meeting with U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, and now a possible visit by President Clinton. Now that the political thaw has begun, will North Korea's economic revival follow?
Maybe, but don't hold your breath waiting for Pyongyang's perestroika. North Korea's economy, never very advanced, has regressed so far since the loss of its Soviet benefactor that its recent, tentative overtures to the outside world will do little in themselves to allay its vast problems. The root problems lie elsewhere: There's little evidence that paramount leader Kim Jong Il is willing to take the ideological leap necessary even to begin reviving the country's moribund economy. To do so would require abandoning the official state philosophy of Juche, or self-sufficiency, and somehow overcoming long-cultivated, deeply imbued hostility toward much of the world. Not the least obstacle to change is the well-fed elite that thrives under the current system, living in modern, high-walled chalets, driving Mercedes and dining in restaurants that quote prices in dollars.
"These politicians and military people are acting like kings," says Norbert Vollertsen, a German physician with a nongovernmental organization in Pyongyang. "They think in a capitalist system they will lose everything."
Juche was a lot more feasible when the Soviet Union supplied fuel and equipment on generous terms. But since the Soviet Union's demise almost a decade ago, North Korea's economy has been more or less in free fall: According to South Korean statistics, the most reliable available, the economy has contracted in eight of the past nine years, lopping a quarter off gross domestic product. Exports, largely of minerals, are down 73% since 1990, making it nearly impossible to import needed supplies. Afflicted with drought, parts of the country suffered famine-like conditions in the mid-1990s. To be sure, the economy seems to have bottomed out. Foreign aid may have contained a food disaster, and the economy actually seems to have grown last year, by 6%, the South Koreans estimate.
But a walk around Pyongyang -- by far the wealthiest place in the country -- shows how far North Koreans have to go before they enjoy such basics as proper jobs, decent food and adequate medical care. In the gray, boxy buildings that dominate the city's streets, lights are rarely turned on during the day, and often not at night. Many huge, high-rise apartment complexes stand mostly empty, says one Pyongyang resident, because there's no power to run the elevators. There are few vehicles on the roads, no trucks delivering food or goods to stores. Many of the few shops that exist appear closed. Feet are the main mode of transport. Pyongyang has a lavish, Soviet-style subway system, as well as streetcars and buses, but they run infrequently and often not at all.
Medicine is primitive. At Kim Il Sung University Hospital, named after the county's demigod founder and considered the country's best medical facility, nurses use old beer bottles to dispense intravenous fluids, due to a shortage of proper bottles. A rancid bathroom appears to lack running water. Dr. Vollertsen, the German physician, says most of the medical equipment doesn't work, for lack of power or spare parts.
Bleak as it sounds, Pyongyang is a "paradise" compared with the hinterlands, say he and others. In cold weather, people spend whole days wandering the countryside looking for firewood, leading to widespread deforestation. The livestock population, although starting to recover, was nearly wiped out during the severe food shortage of the mid-1990s.
Despite the grim conditions, some observers believe they see the beginnings of change. Pyongyang is also showing an ease with foreigners unimaginable even a few years ago. Reporters covering Ms. Albright's visit were allowed to get within touching distance of Mr. Kim -- a godlike figure that even North Koreans rarely see. Officials made only perfunctory attempts to keep journalists from wandering outside Pyongyang, where a roadside encounter with soldiers prompted mostly smiles and a few English-language "hellos."
The newly congenial attitude prompted the U.S. this year to lift economic sanctions that had prevented U.S. companies from conducting virtually any business with North Korea. And the thaw between the two Koreas is stirring interest in the South: Hyundai Group is planning a large industrial complex in the North aimed at exporting manufactured goods.
But reviving the economy will require overcoming a huge barrier: ideology. David Morton, resident representative of the United Nations Development Programme in Pyongyang, argues that the county's food shortage stems primarily from its insistence on producing all of its own food. North Korea's cold climate and harsh land, of which only 20% is suitable for cultivation, makes the goal impractical or even impossible. Growing food requires large volumes of fertilizer that Pyongyang doesn't have. Mr. Morton says the solution requires earning more foreign exchange and importing food that can't be grown locally.
Instead, the government has tried tweaking the system, with minimal results. In 1998, it allowed cooperative farms to determine which crops to grow, and permitted farmers to sell produce from privately controlled plots in informal farmers markets. The changes, however, have had little effect -- damaged by bad weather, this year's harvest is expected to be smaller than last year's.
"Rather than be self-sufficient," he says, "they should be self-reliant.
Write to Michael Schuman at michael.schuman@awsj.com
