From the archives: Deep Inferiority Complex Seen

PYONGYANG, North Korea -- It started innocently enough. Two journalists, an American and a Japanese, walked into an attractive noodle shop, filled with Korean customers, a few blocks from an area of grand sports stadiums and new hotels filled with visitors to the 13th World Festival of Youth and Students.

The restaurant’s windows bore posters of the festival, and the ceiling was strung with small flags of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. It was spotlessly clean and freshly painted. Customers were well dressed. Several wore the uniforms of festival guides. Although it seemed to be something of a model restaurant, at least it was a place where ordinary residents of Pyongyang could eat lunch.

So the Japanese journalist took a picture.

Angry Reaction

Suddenly, a Korean man in his mid-30s, dressed in the high-button gray suit favored by officials, stood up, his face contorted with rage. The man--who was not in the picture and knew he was not in it--called out for the photo taking to stop. He strode over angrily to the journalists’ table.

As he shouted at the foreigners, one of the festival guides came over and translated.

“You must give him the film,” the translator said.

“Why?”

“There are so many beautiful buildings in Pyongyang, and very good restaurants,” said the translator. “Why do you take pictures here?”

“This is a very nice restaurant.”

“No, it’s not,” came the reply. “It is a middle-level restaurant. You must give him the film.”

The journalists refused. After a tense standoff, the angry man disappeared and the noodles were served. They proved to be excellent. The foreigners indicated this to the staff, who responded with smiles. Even if the official could not endure foreigners taking pictures of a noodle shop, the waitresses knew it was a nice restaurant with good food.

Under orders of President Kim Il Sung, who has ruled with an iron hand since the end of World War II, the people of North Korea have built central Pyongyang into a beautiful city of broad, tree-lined streets, with attractively landscaped parks, statues and fountains. There are many grand buildings, some in Western style and others with traditional Korean roof lines.

Asia’s Tallest Hotel

Dominating the skyline like a Gothic cathedral in an old European city is the 105-story, pyramid-shaped steel and concrete shell of the Ryugyong Hotel, on which structural work has been completed but interior work remains. The hotel is said to be the tallest in Asia--beating by one story a South Korean-built hotel in Singapore.

For North Korea, with half the population of South Korea and less than half the south’s annual per capita income, competing with the capitalist south is of great importance. But it is not easy. An attempt to present the best possible face to the world is part of the reason for a burst of construction in Pyongyang during the past few years. It also is a factor motivating heavy-handed attempts to keep visitors from seeing or recording scenes of ordinary life.

North Korea is a reasonably well-off developing nation that is desperately pretending to be richer and more equal than it is.

It sometimes seems as if the entire society is nursing a deep inferiority complex. As much as possible, foreigners are encouraged to see only the concrete grandeur and decorative neon glitz of Pyongyang--the most modern factories, the richest cooperative farms or the better housing developments.

It is possible, however, to leave one’s guide behind and wander into ordinary neighborhoods.

One such neighborhood is clustered around the Ragwon Cinema House on the west side of the city. Here, families live in apartment blocks that range from two to 10 stories high. Families are subdivided into groups of about 800, according to one explanation given to a foreign reporter, and are assigned specific shops, where they do most of their grocery shopping. Shopkeepers said that some foods are rationed. They said that per-person allotments are about eight pounds of meat a month, slightly less than half a pound of fish per day and two bottles of beer per day.

The fish market near the cinema had three kinds of fish one recent day: salted mackerel, salted herring and salted sardines. Dried fish, various kinds of edible seaweed, canned sardines and canned squid were also available. A vegetable market had cabbage, cucumbers, squash, green peppers, hot peppers, onions, tomatoes, watermelon and apples.

At a shop across the street selling consumer goods, well-made umbrellas were selling briskly for $11 apiece plus a ration coupon. There are at least three methods of rationing. One is by coupon, as with the umbrellas. Another is by the memory of the storekeepers, as with bottles of beer, which individuals can generally purchase only at their assigned neighborhood store. A third, consisting of a record book kept at home, is used for the purchase of household furniture. Many small consumer items, however, may be purchased freely if one has enough money. Average monthly wages are about 100 won, or $45, according to various people interviewed in Pyongyang. Rents are only a few dollars.

People on the streets during the festival have been well dressed, the women generally wearing skirts or dresses that extend below the knee, with some women in the traditional Korean gown called chima chogori . Most men wear Western clothes, with a significant minority in high-button suits, similar to what in China is called a Mao jacket. People appear well fed and energetic, but conversation in public places tends to be reserved.

Within Pyongyang, there still exist earthen lanes, lined with multifamily, one-story white cottages with tiled roofs and blue-trimmed windows, separated by tiny private patches of corn and other vegetables.

Few foreigners ever enter these areas, however, and when they do, officials or security guards usually appear quickly to check identities and ensure that no conversation gets out of hand. Try to take a picture, and people usually turn and hurry out of sight. People act as if they are ashamed of traditional practices, such as women carrying loads on their heads or babies on their backs.

North Korea remains an intensely secretive society for many reasons. One is that the country’s political stability depends to a large degree on vast distortions of the history of President Kim’s life and the general history of the past 45 years. Dissent remains so dangerous it is invisible. All citizens must constantly proclaim respect for Kim, 77, and affection for his son and designated successor, the “Dear Comrade” Kim Jong Il. Everyone wears a pin with a small picture of Kim Il Sung wherever they go.

President Kim is portrayed as a brilliant revolutionary leader, who led the country to freedom from Japanese colonialism. Japan’s defeat in 1945 and the establishment of a Communist state in North Korea is attributed to his leadership. The role of the United States in defeating Japan in World War II is never mentioned. Scarcely more credit is given to the Soviet Union, which accepted the surrender of Japanese troops in the northern half of the Korean Peninsula and set Kim up as the leader of a Communist government.

Followed Stalinist Model

Under the rule of Kim and the Workers’ Party of Korea--the official name of the Communist Party that Kim set up in October, 1945--the country has followed the Stalinist model of economic development. The economy functions under state ownership and central control. Resources are squeezed from the countryside to support the development of heavy industry and other specified projects, such as the construction of Pyongyang and the maintenance of a large army. A personality cult bordering on worship of Kim, plus police-state controls, combine to ensure the obedience of the population.

The system achieves some results, and it has its supporters.

“After liberation, the respected and beloved leader appealed to all the Korean people to gather everything together to build a new Korea on this land,” said Kang Yong Hwa, 68, a longtime Workers’ Party member who is a designer and technical expert at a clothing factory. “Everyone who has strength must give their strength. If you have money, you must give your money to the country. If you have technical skills, you must give your skills. If you have bare hands, you must give your bare hands.”

The egalitarianism, however, does not encompass the ruling elite. Located near the center of the city, southwest of the Grand Peoples’ Study House, as the national library is known, a stretch of roughly one mile of Chang Gwang Street is fenced off to pedestrian traffic, with a pair of soldiers carrying semiautomatic rifles warning away any who approach too closely. Drivers know they must not enter this street, which is lined with apartment blocks and offices used by North Korea’s rulers.

Scores of Mercedes

Little detail is available about life in this area. But the preferred vehicle of many of these families is the Mercedes-Benz. Scores of the German luxury cars could be seen carrying their passengers to major festival events.

Visitors also are generally limited to only fleeting glimpses of the North Korean countryside, primarily the view from a limited number of rail routes and highways. The train from Pyongyang to Panmunjom, on the border with South Korea, and a four-lane highway, stretching from the capital to the east coast resort town of Wonsan, both pass by rich farmland and villages of tile-roofed houses, with dirt roads, bullock carts and occasional tractors. The general level of prosperity seems similar to that of China. Foreigners who have been to the country’s more remote villages in mountainous regions say that life remains very simple and poor.

The eight-day Festival of Youth and Students, which ended Saturday, has been Pyongyang’s greatest effort yet to show off its accomplishments. About 20,000 delegates and tourists from various countries attended the festival, which featured sports competitions, various types of cultural performances and leftist political gatherings with titles such as “Anti-Imperialist Tribunal.”

Among the most important visitors have been about 3,000 Korean residents of Japan, most of them born in Japan but maintaining North Korean citizenship. They are part of Japan’s large Korean community, which has never been fully integrated into Japanese life, due to discrimination, historical antipathy between the two nations and a variety of political problems.

Key Overseas Link

One goal of Pyongyang’s elaborate efforts to put only its best face forward to the world is to solidify support from this group, which forms North Korea’s most important overseas link. In this, it is largely successful. Most Koreans from Japan are inclined to see primarily the good side of life in Pyongyang, and to feel great pride in their fatherland’s accomplishments.

“I’m so overwhelmed; I wanted to cry,” Kim Hwa Ja, a Japanese-born North Korean national who lives in a suburb of Tokyo, said after viewing a “Mass Games” childrens’ performance of precision gymnastics and bleacher card-section art at Kim Il Sung Stadium. “Everything is done so perfectly. . . . The childrens’ actions show they are protected by Kim Il Sung. It cannot be forced action. This is their real feeling, and it reflects Kim Il Sung’s feeling toward them.”

Those Korean visitors from Japan who are aware of the intense attempt to hide reality do not necessarily find this very objectionable.

“They want to have the image of a new socialist society,” explained one such visitor. “But many things don’t fit this idealized image. So they are embarrassed to let foreigners see. They do this out of patriotism.”

The Koreans from Japan are also part of the show. As their contribution to the success of the festival, they ran hundreds of nighttime food stalls along Kwangbok Street, in the Sports Village section where lodging was provided for most of the festival visitors. The food was delicious and the service excellent. Very few delegates ever realized that the stalls were not run by local Koreans.

Welcome Diversion

For Pyongyang’s tiny foreign community, consisting primarily of diplomats and a scattering of capitalist businessmen, the festival has been a welcome diversion.

About 90 countries have diplomatic representation in Pyongyang, although for many, this is accomplished through officials primarily stationed at embassies in Beijing. Among those with representation here are Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Austria, Iceland, Switzerland, India, Pakistan, Indonesia, Egypt, Syria, Algeria, Nigeria, Nicaragua and Cuba. Pyongyang passed a joint venture law in 1984, and while not too much has yet come of it, there are about two dozen businessmen living in Pyongyang from West Germany, France, Belgium and Britain.

All these foreigners are severely isolated from Korean society, and social life is primarily within their own circles. For those interested in night life, the high point is disco dancing every Saturday night at the Changgwang San Hotel. Others prefer the pool and sauna at the Changgwang Health Complex, which is closed to foreigners six days a week and holds a foreigners-only day on Saturday.

While resident foreigners and visiting journalists find themselves confronting the severe restrictions of North Korean society, most festival visitors appear to have had a grand time. The physical appearance of Pyongyang alone is enough to win some respect from most visitors.

“I am amazed by the economic and industrial growth they have achieved,” said a South Korean immigrant to the United States who was part of a delegation of visiting Korean Americans. “At the same time, I’m a little discontented that the tour guides are only taking us to what they want us to see.”