North Koreans Put Pride Before Poverty in Reunions With the South

North Korea might not have much electricity, food, clothing or fertilizer. But it does have its pride, and that in great abundance.

This has been amply demonstrated in three days of inter-Korean family reunions that wrapped up today. Although North Koreans are in desperate need of almost everything, the Pyongyang regime has insisted that the total value of any gifts given by South Koreans to northern relatives be limited to $500.

Pride also could be seen in many of the reunions in Seoul’s Millennium Hall this week. Kim Joong Hyon, 66, basked in the arms of family members he hadn’t seen in five decades, crying, laughing, looking at blurry black-and-white photos and filling in the gaps about those who have died, married, done well.

When asked why he went to war in 1950 and never returned to his loved ones here in the South, however, his jaw set and his eyes grew hard. “I did it for my country,” he said. “Without a country, you are no better than a dog or a pig.”

Most of the 100 elderly North Korean Communist Party elites and professors who traveled to the South were well-dressed in suits, ties, crisp shirts and nice dresses. In other ways, too, they tried to keep up the pretext that North Korea was still a land of abundance.

“When the question of gifts came up, my brother said, ‘I don’t need anything,’ ” said Kim Ok Soon, 65, who saw 69-year-old Kim Sang Ryol this week for the first time since they were separated 50 years ago during the chaos of the Korean War. “He’s so proud now. He’s really a changed man.”

Eventually, she and others persuaded their northern relatives to accept their presents. Among the items most sought after by the North Koreans: underwear. Also greatly appreciated were socks, earmuffs, toothbrushes and coats.

Of course, coming hat in hand is difficult for anyone, particularly when you’re very poor and facing your old ideological enemy. And arguably, North Korea’s national pride has helped it weather the past decade of famines, floods and economic meltdown.

“These people have nothing if not pride and guts,” said Shim Hyok Jung, 68, who this week hosted his long-lost North Korean sibling. The two, like many others, last saw each other in 1950 as they both tried to flee the fighting, only to end up on different sides of the barbed wire. “My brother is no exception.”

Behind North Korea’s contradictory stance--it makes no secret of its need for international food aid even as it caps the value of individual gifts to its people--is sensitivity over how aid is channeled, experts say. Largess that can be distributed by the state expands the power of the dictatorship. Shiny consumer baubles received from relatives abroad with attractive lifestyles does not.

“The North Korean leadership is very concerned about the infiltration of capitalism,” said Haksoon Paik, research fellow with Seoul’s Sejong Institute. “And expensive gifts are a pretty concrete form of infiltration.”

Gifts also have the potential to disrupt the party ranks by creating jealousy among comrades who didn’t get a chance to go to Seoul, added Kwak Tae Hwan, president of the Korea Institute for National Unification.

That said, North Korea shows signs of slowly becoming less arrogant, either out of desperation or because it has become less isolated, experts say. And South Korea hasn’t always been blameless over the years, with the two sides at times appearing more like squabbling siblings than sovereign states.

Still, Pyongyang’s determination to save face can be a challenge for negotiators, with talks often marked by bluster, posturing, and fits and starts.

This round of family reunions, for instance, the second this year, was nearly derailed when South Korean Red Cross chief Chang Choong Shik told a South Korean magazine that northerners showed up at the first reunions each day wearing the same clothes. He added that the program allowed people to compare life between the North and South.

North Korea went ballistic, calling his comments an “intolerable challenge and mockery” of its system. Although the North eventually returned to the negotiating table, Chang suddenly announced that he wouldn’t lead the next southern delegation to Pyongyang as expected.

The reunions in Seoul also have seen their share of proud arrogance, with North Korean state security agents yelling in hotel lobbies over perceived mistreatment. And during a tour of a folk museum Friday, North Korean officials demanded an apology when a South Korean guide moved too quickly through an exhibit on the Koguryo period. That kingdom, which lasted from 37 BC until AD 668, was largely in what is modern-day North Korea, and the North Koreans said the guide’s action was an intentional slight.

U.S. Rep. Tony P. Hall (D-Ohio), who returned this week from a humanitarian aid visit to Pyongyang, the capital, and the North Korean countryside, said he stopped trying to understand the gap between North Korea’s actions and its needs. “It’s a real mystery,” he said. “Just when you think you figured it out, you get confused again.”

Unfortunately, ordinary North Koreans are the ones who stand to lose. Hall said he told high-level officials in Pyongyang that allowing U.S. aid workers to enter the nation would result in a huge increase in American food aid. “They listened,” he said. “But I don’t know if it registered.”

Likewise, Seoul’s private Nampo Citizens Assn. recently offered to donate 170,000 pounds of rice to the residents of group members’ hometown, the port of Nampo on North Korea’s west coast. The request was turned down with the explanation that North Korea doesn’t accept conditions--such as dictating where the aid goes.

In preparations for this week’s reunions, South Koreans were given a two-hour Red Cross briefing on avoiding controversial topics, including politics and poverty.

Still, many say, it’s a natural instinct to ask about relatives’ daily lives. Several South Koreans who attended the reunions said that, advice aside, they tried subtle and indirect questions to discern whether their brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers have enough to eat, are cold and have running water. Each time, they said, they hit a dead end.

“They wouldn’t talk about the economic problems at all,” said Cho Sung Young, 65, who hosted his younger brother from North Korea. “But you can see from their appearances they’re really having a hard time, even though they have a high position in the party.”

The North sought to put its best foot forward this week by holding short “press events” to present gifts to southern relatives and expose the world to life in the North. The meetings were limited to 10 minutes, allowed for no questions and were stopped abruptly by North Korean “reporters” when anyone deviated from the script, which was essentially a treatise on the merits of the late “Great Leader” Kim Il Sung and his son, “Dear Leader” Kim Jong Il.

“Today I want to let you know how I lived while we were apart,” Ha Jae Kyong said at one of the events. He then listed several honors from the state and exhibited his doctoral degree in nonferrous metals.

The 74-year-old professor, who was separated from his family when he joined the North Korean army in 1950 and never returned, then presented his brother with a biography of Kim Il Sung, saying, “It was just too good to read by myself.”