And there was still more bad political news to come. In 2003 allegations surfaced in Seoul that Kim Dae-jung’s aides, through Hyundai, had bought Kim Jong-il’s participation in the 2000 summit by transferring $500 million or more to the North Korean leader’s account. Chung M.ong-hun, fifth son of Hyundai founder Chung Ju-yung and chairman of the Hyundai group company that had developed the North Korea projects, was to be tried for violating foreign currency regulations with the secret transfers. On August 4, 2003, Chung M.ong-hun leapt to his death from the twelfth floor of the Hyundai Building, leaving a note saying: “This foolish person has committed a foolish thing.” The following month six Hyundai and government officials were convicted in the case but given suspended sentences. The scandal called into question both Kim Dae-jung’s Nobel Prize and Kim Jong-il’s sincerity about reconciliation. Pyongyang bitterly blamed the right-wing main opposition party in the South for pushing the investigation, saying instigators would be unable “to escape the crimes that they committed in the face of their people and history itself.”23
THIRTY-SIX
Fear and Loathing
While events around the turn of the millennium suggested that Kim Jong-il had become willing to yield some points on economic and legal policies, he had other, less peaceable things on his mind as well. His continuing policy of placing heavy emphasis on military readiness led to a high-stakes war of nerves with Washington, Tokyo and Seoul. That struggle put at risk any gains the North Korean people might hope to derive from his other initiatives.
The official position, expressed at the beginning of 2000 by an economics professor at Kim Il-sung University, was that Kim Jong-il’s emphasis on “military-first” politics meant guns and butter. Yes, it was intended to “defend the nation from the invasion of hostile forces.” But it was “a comprehensive plan which includes an effective means for an economic buildup.” The policy had “nothing to do with military rule or a military regime.” And the “powerful state” that the Dear Leader wanted to create did not mean a country pursuing hegemony. Rather, the policy had “two goals: defending the system and restoring the economy”1
Following September 11, 2001, and the Al Qaeda terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, speech-writers working on President Bush’s State of the Union address for 2002 liked the catchy phrase “axis of evil.” Partly to avoid making it appear the United States focused only on Muslims in the new War on Terror, they added North Korea to the original “axis” members Iraq and Iran. Many people felt that the stance was justified when Washington acquired evidence suggesting that North Korea might be continuing secretly—despite the 1994–95 agreements—to develop nuclear weapons. A second nuclear weapons crisis erupted.
Even as international attention focused again on North Korean weaponry, however, Kim Jong-il’s regime continued to experiment at home with potentially far-reaching adjustments to the Stalinist-Kimilsungist system. By early 2004 foreign visitors and other outside analysts were hopping aboard what seemed to be a developing consensus: Pyongyang was more serious than before about accepting—and even encouraging—economic change.
Early in 2000 South Korea’s Ministry of National Defense reported that North Korea had stocked enough food for a yearlong war and enough oil for at least three months, in addition to ammunition. Interpretations varied. A substantial body of foreign opinion held that North Korea, far from being an aggressive state that might attack the South at any moment, was a weak country that simply sought to defend itself against a feared attack by the United States and South Korea. Of course that school of thought had long included sympathizers with North Korea and its socialist ideal. But quite a few others coming from elsewhere on the ideological spectrum had concluded in the 1990s that the North—-with the collapse of communism in the Soviet Union and especially with the economic disaster that afflicted the country through much of the decade—had irreversibly fallen into weakness. Pyongyang must know that the days were past when it could have mounted a successful south-ward invasion. Looking at the matter from that point of view, the North could be squirreling away war rations, fuel and ammunition purely for the sake of deterring its enemies from attacking. After all, the South Korean ministry claimed to know where the North’s storage facilities were—presumably thanks to satellite photos and other intelligence. Knowing it was being watched and hoping to discourage attack, Pyongyang would have to make sure it put up a credible front of being ready, indeed eager, to fight effectively.
There were plenty of reasons for being skeptical about that argument, and I was skeptical. One could suspect that the Pyongyang regime’s adamant refusal for so many decades to change in any basic way applied fully to its more than fifty-year-old objective of ruling the whole peninsula. For the regime to relinquish that goal and settle permanently for taking its chances in peaceful competition with its Southern brethren, wouldn’t there have to be an enormous change? There might be temporary policy shifts, such as emphasizing deterrence more than preparations for aggression whenever the regime felt itself temporarily weakened. But if such a huge change of long-term policy as the renunciation of conquest were to occur, wouldn’t we know about it? How could it be accomplished without internal turmoil sufficient to register on Pyongyang-watchers’ seismographs? Remove one element of the “unitary idea,” Kim Jong-il himself had warned for decades, and the whole system would start to unravel. Along with such a major policy change, wouldn’t we see, at the minimum, some new faces at the top, rather than continuing to watch a country being ruled for better or for worse—usually for worse—by the same people who had been in charge for decades?
But people who met Kim face to face continued to get the impression he was prepared to make deals that would permit him to abandon old policies so that the country could move on. One of those people was then-U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, whose memoir includes a chapter describing a visit to Pyongyang in the waning days of the Clinton administration.2 She found Kim “an intelligent man who knew what he wanted.” Exuding confidence, he made clear he wanted normal relations with the United States that would “shield his country from the threat he saw posed by American power and help him to be taken seriously in the eyes of the world.”
Albright was in Pyongyang for preliminary talks looking toward a possible summit meeting between President Clinton and Kim—and what both sides hoped would be a comprehensive agreement on missiles and the other issues that kept the two countries at odds. In her first meeting with Kim (“I was wearing heels, but so was he”) she told him she could not recommend a summit meeting without having an agreement on missiles. Kim told her his country was selling missiles to Iran and Syria because it needed foreign currency. “So it’s clear, since we export to get money, if you guarantee compensation it will be suspended.” Indeed, he offered to halt not only exports but also production for deployment within the country. “If there’s no confrontation, there’s no significance to weapons,” he explained.
Describing a meeting the following day, Albright wrote, “I said we had given his delegation a list of questions and that it would be helpful if his experts could provide at least some answers before the end of the day. To my surprise Kim asked for the list and began answering the questions himself, not even consulting the expert by his side.”
Kim told Albright that he could see a post–Cold War role for U.S. troops in South Korea: maintaining stability. But he said his military was split down the middle on whether to improve North Korea–U.S. relations and that some in his foreign ministry had argued against his speaking with the Americans. “As in the U.S.,” he said, “there are people here with views differing from mine, although they don’t amount to the level of opposition you have.”
Kim confirmed that his country was in severe economic difficulty, and Albright asked if he would consider opening the economy. Not if it would “harm our traditions,” he replied. He said he was not interested in the Chinese mix of free markets with socialism, preferring the model of Sw
eden, which he saw as more socialist than China.
“On a personal level,” Albright wrote, “I had to assume that Kim sincerely believed in the blarney he had been taught and saw himself as the protector and benefactor of his nation. … One could not preside over a system as cruel as the DPRK’s without being cruel oneself, but I did not think we had the luxury of simply ignoring him. He was not going to go away and his country though weak, was not about to fall apart.”
Albright concluded that Kim was serious about negotiating a deal on missiles, and that the costs to the United States “would be minimal compared to the expense of defending against the threats its missile program posed.” But efforts to arrange for Clinton to meet with Kim and seal such a deal ran into obstacles. First, Albright wrote, there was considerable opposition in Washington from people who “feared a deal with North Korea would weaken the case for national missile defense,” or who “argued that a summit would ‘legitimize’ North Korea’s evil leaders.” But what really scuttled the proposed trip was a competing demand for Clinton to deal with the latest Mideast crisis during his fast-dwindling time in office.
The George W. Bush administration took over in Washington early in 2001. Republican officials in charge of foreign policy, suspicious of the Clinton administration’s efforts to find accommodation with Pyongyang, set out to review U.S. policy. After President Bush’s Axis of Evil speech, there was more to come. In October 2002 U.S. Assistant Secretary of State James Kelly and other officials visiting Pyongyang surprised their hosts with evidence that North Korea was continuing nuclear weapons development using uranium enrichment, a different and separate process from the plutonium process the country had frozen earlier. The delegation returned to Washington to report that its counterparts had come clean on the uranium project, defiantly insisting there was no reason why the country should not have its own nukes.
Washington sought to keep the issue on the back burner while it took on Iraq first. North Korea used various provocations to try to force the United States into making concessions while the Pentagon was occupied in the Middle East. In December 2002 the country expelled International Atomic Energy Agency inspectors and started reactivating a reactor that had produced plutonium before the 1994 freeze. In January 2003 North Korea withdrew from the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty.
The quick initial success of the Iraq war most likely was blood-curdling news to Kim Jong-il, whose whereabouts were not known for a number of days. He was presumed to be in hiding for fear one of those smart U.S. weapons, launched in the preemptive attack that the Bush administration openly contemplated, would find him. After all, Bush had told author and Washington Post reporter Bob Wood-ward that he “loathed” Kim Jong-il, whom he referred to as a “pygmy.”
In October 2003, Pyongyang said it had reprocessed some eight thousand spent fuel rods that had been in storage during the period of the freeze. “If that is indeed the case, it could have produced enough fissile material for an additional five or six nuclear weapons,” Kelly said.3 When Pyongyang hinted broadly that it might simply declare itself a nuclear power, China, for one, did not like that idea and cut off North Korea’s oil supplies for several days to enforce a demand for negotiations. By early 2004 Pyongyang had offered to re-freeze its plutonium-based program (evidently realizing its admission had been a tactical error, it now denied it had acknowledged having a uranium enrichment program) while negotiating with the United States, South Korea, China, Japan and Russia to see what sort of deal it could get. What it wanted from Washington included a non-aggression pact and diplomatic relations.
While the first nuclear crisis had appeared pretty much to halt movement toward economic change, Pyongyang the second time around kept moving on a parallel track—to the extent that quite a few foreign skeptics started to become believers that something major could be happening this time.
One implication of Kelly’s confrontation with North Korean officials on the bombs-from-uranium issue was, of course, that there would be no progress for the time being on resolving economic issues between Washington and Pyongyang. The month after the Kelly visit, however, Kim Jong-il’s brother-in-law, Chang Song-taek, led a high-powered delegation to South Korea to learn from the Southern economy. Ignoring super-high-tech, capital-intensive operations that were way out of their league, the Northern visitors focused on what seemed within their reach: standard industrial commodities such as steel and fertilizer, which they had been producing and could hope to produce more efficiently, and smaller businesses including golf and tourism. “So while their South Korean guides expected they would like to see Samsung Electronics’ cutting-edge technology,” reported a Seoul newspaper, “they were more interested in how an LG subsidiary makes toothbrushes.” Pak Nam-ki, the North’s chief economic planner, looked intently at what he was shown and asked many detailed questions. South Koreans speculated that the travelers, upon their return to Pyongyang, would first disabuse Kim Jong-il of his misconceptions about the South Korean economy and then draft a new blueprint for restoring and reforming the North’s economy.4
What about that old assumption that reform would unravel the ideology that kept the populace in thrall to the leader? For mass consumption, continuity was the byword. By February 2003 the regime had cranked up its propaganda machine to insist that the new initiatives fit right in with received scripture. Nodong Shinmun published an article on Kim Jong-il’s “wise leadership for improving socialist economic management”—an article that mentioned the term “profits” several times. Explaining the timing of the publicity, the paper said it marked the thirtieth anniversary of a work by his father, “On Several Issues for Improving Socialist Economic Management.” Kim Jong-il had accomplished a “great feat,” the paper said, by maintaining “the socialist economic management principle amid the imperialists’ encirclement and mounting difficulties.” Mean-while, he “leads us to thoroughly guarantee real profits in the socialist economic management.” Perhaps the one-time political economy major had thought better of his student-princely disdain for instruction in computation. “Economic management requires scientific calculations,” said that article on his management approach.5
Addressing the Supreme People’s Assembly—the parliament—on the state budget for 2003, Finance Minister Mun Il-bong went farther. “In all institutions and enterprises a system of calculation based on money will have to be correctly installed, production and financial accounting systems be strengthened, production and management activities be carried out thoroughly by calculating the actual profits,” Mun said. German scholar Ruedi-ger Frank found in another passage of Mun’s speech an effort to graft onto the old socialist ideology a new recognition of the role of entrepreneurs. “Our people, holding high the Great Leader’s ideology of nation-building after liberation, have built a new democratic Korea upon the rubble,” Mun said, “those with strength using strength, those with knowledge using knowledge and those with money using money.” Frank noted that strength stood for the workers and peasants and knowledge for the intellectuals—the three groups represented in the hammer-sickle-writing brush emblem on Pyongyang’s Juche Tower. “But ‘money’ is a new component,” he wrote. “It stands for those who excel in economic activities.” Frank found it “remarkable that the leveling of the ideological battlefield has begun so early. Kim Jong-il may be no Mikhail Gorbachev, nor a Deng Xiaoping, but the evidence makes it hard to believe he is a stubborn opponent of reform.”
At the 2003 parliamentary budget session came an announcement of another initiative, issuance of People’s Life Bonds. “Why would a state like North Korea care about collecting large quantities of its own currency?” asked Frank. He speculated that “the one-time extra revenue created by issuing the bonds will be used to pay wages until the new price system functions.” Frank discerned in the issuance of the bonds “not only a sign of a desperate effort to prevent a failure of the reforms, but also another indicator of the strong determination of the North Korean leadership to stabilize … w
ith the goal of creating a domestically functioning and internationally compatible national economy in the future.” He worried that circumstances—especially unavailability of loans and grants from outside—-would block the achievement of that goal. The scholar concluded that “something has started which can hardly be stopped anymore, unless it either becomes a brilliant success or a miserable failure.”6
I remained skeptical, for the time being, that the changes were truly momentous, and I was by no means alone. The head of one foundation dedicated to medical and food aid for North Koreans traveled through the country a couple of months after Finance Minister Mun’s speech. Compared with what he had seen on earlier trips, the aid organizer found that the lives of ordinary people remained “difficult almost beyond description.” Starting with the years of most acute famine, “North Koreans have had to turn to informal coping mechanisms,” he told a U.S. congressional committee. But an illustration he offered could just as well have been taken as an omen of change for the better. “Even individuals who work in government ministries rely on outside sources of income to acquire the goods and services they need for their families,” he said, reporting that “the North Korean economy has slowly improved over the past few years,” thanks mainly to “the informal economy.” He told how informal coping mechanisms, including produce from private plots and farmers’ markets, had “halted North Korea’s precipitous economic slide toward oblivion.”
Under the Loving Care of the Fatherly Leader Page 97