North Koreans Blame U.S. for Their Nation’s Plight

From the fortified bunkers peeking out under slabs of snow to the radar installations scattered over the rolling countryside to the concrete doors leading into mountainside tunnels, it is evident that this is a paranoid place.

North Koreans live in a perpetual state of alertness, believing themselves to be a beleaguered people. Now more than ever, they feel, they are being victimized by the United States and must always be at the ready.

Kim In Joon, 60, a guard at a seaside overlook whose job is to prevent visitors from taking photographs that might reveal military installations, is one of the rare North Koreans who sometimes meet foreigners. He welcomes an American visitor walking through his park with a New Year’s greeting and a broad smile, gold-capped teeth glinting in the sun.

Politely, Kim explains that he has nothing personal against the American people -- it’s their government that is the bane of his existence. He can provide a long list of the perfidies he believes have been committed by the United States, ranging from the division of Korea after World War II to the Korean War. But his most immediate grievance -- more mundane than geopolitical -- is the shortage of electricity in his apartment.

Under a 1994 agreement, the United States was supposed to build the North Koreans two safe light-water nuclear reactors and supply fuel oil in return for North Korea’s freezing its nuclear program. But the reactors are years behind schedule, and in November, the United States and its allies ordered that deliveries of fuel oil to the North be suspended after Pyongyang acknowledged having a secret uranium-enrichment program.

“It’s because of the Americans that our electricity is so bad,” said Kim, who lives in a first-floor apartment in the nearby port city of Kosung, which has at best a few hours of electricity each night. “We have a refrigerator, a television, a washing machine that we can’t use because we don’t have the electricity. When I see all those appliances that don’t work, I get so mad I want to throw them at the Americans.

“How can we trust the Americans when they don’t keep their promises? We have no choice but to prepare ourselves to fight,” he continued, as he mimicked brandishing a bayonet.

This is a view readily expressed by anyone in North Korea willing to chat. The area along the country’s southeastern coast near Mt. Kumgang, its leading tourist attraction, is the only part of the North open to foreigners -- albeit through highly restricted tours organized by a South Korean company -- and the North Koreans here speak along similar lines.

Although this area is less than 10 miles from the demilitarized zone that separates North and South Korea, the animus is reserved almost exclusively for the United States.

“Let’s throw out the American imperialists,” reads one of the ubiquitous propaganda signboards, and many people use a derogatory term -- meeguknom -- when referring to Americans. By contrast, they pepper their speech with words of praise for the man they call their general, North Korean leader Kim Jong Il.

The North Koreans portray themselves as the victims of that big bully, the United States. In particular, they are furious about the 1994 agreement signed in Geneva, which they believe was a double cross by Washington in which they gave up their nuclear program and got nothing in return. They note -- correctly -- that the two light-water reactors under construction by an international consortium were supposed to be finished this year but are so far behind schedule that, at the current pace, they would not be completed until 2008.

“In 1994, we stopped the reactor because of the U.S. promise to build new reactors by 2003. Now it’s 2003. Where are our reactors?” demanded a 32-year-old Mt. Kumgang guard who did not give his name.

North Korea’s decision last month to unfreeze its nuclear program was necessitated by the shortage of electricity, the people say. They disregard the fact that the 5-megawatt reactor being restarted at the nuclear complex in Yongbyon is of a size that makes it better suited for producing weapons-grade plutonium than electrical power.

“How can we give up our nuclear weapons if the United States isn’t giving up theirs? If you threaten me with a gun, I have to go out and get a gun,” the guard said.

With language that echoes the blustery rhetoric of official television and radio, North Koreans say they are not afraid of preemptive airstrikes or economic sanctions.

“The stronger the United States becomes, the stronger we grow,” said Pak Hyun Il, 28, an aspiring novelist who works at Mt. Kumgang. “We have a collectivist mentality that makes us stronger than the individualist Americans. And we are used to doing without. What can they take away from us?”

Another guard, however, confessed to some jitters about a nuclear standoff developing with the United States.

“Who wouldn’t be nervous when there is a threat of war?” asked Choi Yeon Ho, 37. “But we are prepared for whatever happens.”

A South Korean businessman who works in the area and has many North Korean friends believes that, despite such bravado, they are scared.

“The North Koreans speak very aggressively. They are very upset about the lack of electricity. But my personal opinion is that they want a dialogue with the United States. And they really don’t want a war,” said the businessman, speaking on condition of anonymity.

At least one of the Mt. Kumgang guards agreed.

“I wish George Bush would come here to Mt. Kumgang himself,” he said, “and we could talk to him.”

The North Koreans say they get their information about the nuclear crisis from the two official newspapers and from state television on the nights that the electricity is working.

South Korean businessman Kim Yoon Kyu of Hyundai Asan, which runs the tours to Mt. Kumgang, says the North Koreans have no clue how their country is perceived. “They are totally innocent,” he said.