“If the American imperialists attack, we will wipe them from the face of the Earth,” read the billboard outside a residential building in Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea. I tried to imagine what it must be like to wake up to that every day.
“Do you think the U.S. will ever attack?” I asked Seo, our translator for our weeklong trip to the Asian branch of George Bush’s Axis of Evil. “Who can say?” she replied. “But if they do, I want to fight on the front.”
Her desire to battle the “imperialists” was, or at least it seemed to me, genuine. There was no one in earshot that could understand (we were speaking Russian), and her eyes gleamed with a hard-to-fake fervour. If all North Koreans are like Seo, Pyongyang is unlikely to fall as easily as Baghdad, should the U.S. ever decide to invade, that is.
But it’s difficult enough to find out about everyday life in North Korea, let alone the readiness – or otherwise – of the population to engage in combat with the U.S. and South Korean forces massed just a few hours’ drive away. Still, the cult-like nature of this nation of some 24 million makes me think a significant percentage might well be ready to lay down their lives for Dear Leader Kim Jong-il and the ideology created by his father, Kim il-Sung, a.k.a. the Eternal Sun of Mankind.
A short time after my chat with Seo, we took a drive out to the DMZ, the demilitarised zone separating the North and South that was established in 1953 after the end of the Korean War.
North Korea may be, as our guide Comrade Lee told us, “the world’s only socialist state,” but that hasn’t stopped it setting up a souvenir shop on its side of the DMZ. Payment is in hard currency only, as foreigners are strictly forbidden to use North Korean cash.
After picking up a few postcards, I took the chance to photograph some North Korean officers snapping each other next to a billboard that read “One Korea!” and a bridge bearing an inscription calling for reunification without the intervention of foreign powers.
Despite being the epicentre of the world’s longest large-scale military stand-off, the DMZ is actually a pretty peaceful place. A dozen or so ducks looked on with interest as we got out of our vehicle to head off to see the building where the ceasefire deal – a peace treaty was never agreed on - was signed. If they even get reunification sorted out, the Koreans should think about setting up a health farm in the area.
The North Korean and UN flags used at the signing of the ceasefire were on proud display. “The U.S. used a UN flag in order to disguise their loss,” a soldier told us. “They had never tasted the shame of defeat and had boasted that they would win the war in a matter of days. But we beat them, and will do so again if they ever dare to attack.” He grinned. No one challenged his contention that the North had “won” the war.
The North Koreans are taught that the war that devastated the peninsula and cost 3 million lives was started by the U.S. and the “puppet government” in the south. The vast majority of world historians are of the opinion that it was the North that began the war after Kim il-Sung received the go-ahead for an invasion of the South from Stalin. After making initial headway, North Korean forces were quickly pinned back and 5,000-year-old Pyongyang was all but destroyed by U.S. bombs.
Just over 30 years ago, President Kim il-Sung put forward a unique proposal for reunification. He suggested reuniting the two Koreas under the name of Koryo, with the “preservation of the existing ideologies and social systems of both sides.” Koryo was a Korean dynasty established in 918, which lasted until 1392.
The republic would be ruled by “a single national government, composed on an equal basis and to include representatives from north and south, with equal responsibilities and duties.” Unsurprisingly, South Korea has never been too keen on the plan.
Comrade Lee, however, beamed with pleasure when I asked him if the North still believed in Kim’s proposals. “Of course,” he said. “But the south isn’t interested. They want to achieve reunification through force.”
Lee also expressed scorn for the U.S., and said President Barack Obama was “no worse, no better than George Bush.” “He’s done nothing for the Koreans,” he added. While he was full of contempt for Washington’s policies, he said that he had nothing at all against ordinary Americans. “People are people,” he said.
We then walked to the border with South Korea. There were no actual South Korean soldiers in sight though, and we didn’t get to enter the buildings that the line that divides the peninsula runs through as entry was closed while South Koreans tourists were being shown around. “Come again soon,” a jolly North Korean border guard said when I expressed disappointment. “I’ll take you there myself.”
When we got back to Pyongyang, I went browsing in the hotel’s bookshop. Among all the works of politics and culture by the two Kims, I came across a Korean children’s story translated into English. Entitled “The Story of a Hedgehog” the book told the tale of a brave and cunning – and tiny – hedgehog who defeated a massive tiger. It wasn’t hard to see through the symbolism. Opposite the bookshop, a cartoon was playing on the TV. A group of tiny cat-like creatures armed with automatic weapons were engaged in a desperate battle against what appeared to be more massive tigers. The cat creatures eventually triumphed, and stood victorious over their fallen foes.
It’s impossible to overestimate the effect over half a century of tensions with South Korea have had on North Korean society. From the Songun “military first” policy to the ubiquitous posters, billboards and TV shows urging citizens to be prepared for hostilities, the ruling regime has kept the country on a permanent war footing since the 1950s. Who knows what changes a lasting peace would bring? But, for now at least, that peace seems as far away as the Western world – for better or for worse - does from Pyongyang.
The views expressed in this column are the author’s and may not necessarily represent those of RIA Novosti.
