The Human Side of North Korea

By Randall Ireson

Much has been written about the "immanent collapse" of North Korea, and of serious human rights issues in that country. Difficulties in monitoring and administering food and medical aid programs also frequently make headlines. There is often (but not always) truth to these stories. But as we enter a new year and encounter North Korea's enhanced effort to build diplomatic and economic relations with the rest of the world, we should remind ourselves that there are ordinary people living there who must live within the limitations of their system, and are greatly affected by our policies and actions as neighbors.

As coordinator of the American Friends Service Committee's (Quaker) assistance program in the Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea (DPRK), I have made six trips there over the past three years, and guided three study delegations of North Korean agricultural scientists in the US and China. AFSC has been working with DPRK organizations since the early 1980s, including bring a delegation of educators to several US colleges in 1997.

Working with the DPRK system is not easy, but having respect for the whole‑hearted efforts of the Korean people to overcome a very difficult situation goes a long way toward building cooperative relationships.

Like all foreigners, we are accompanied by official "guides" for all meetings with Korean officials and farm leaders. Returning from an official meeting one afternoon, one of our guides told my wife and me that when his wife was pregnant, they would walk through the Potong River park each evening and he would sing to her and his unborn son. Would he share the song? He would, and sang it for us in the tender voice of any father wishing well for his child.

Much of our assistance goes to three cooperative farms, where donations of fertilizer, clear plastic sheet for cold beds, and new seed varieties help revive food production and give the farm families a greater return for their work. The manager at one farm, until now a crusty and reserved man, met us on our latest trip with smiles and excitement: "Two of the wheat seed varieties you brought have a potential yield of over five tons per hectare!" Their normal yields have been less than two tons. Later in our visit, he complained that during all our visits we had never taken a photograph of us all together, and he asked for one so he could remember the beginnings of our cooperation. Of course we obliged.

We are also beginning experiments with planting milkvetch and other legumes in the rice and corn fields to fix nitrogen and fertilize the badly depleted soil. Though milkvetch was widely grown throughout the Korean peninsula before the war, we had not found anyone in the Agricultural Sciences Academy who was familiar with it. But the research director at one farm, a dignified gentleman of 60, saw our photo and remembered. With a soft light of childhood memory in his eyes he said, "My parents planted it in their fields. As boys we would pick the purple flowers and weave garlands to put in the girls' hair." He received the seeds, took us to the test field, and spread them himself by hand.

These are our "sworn enemies" ‑ responsible officials who work with very limited resources in a very restrictive system to do the best they can for their families and their country. Each is a human being with hopes, concerns and a curiosity about new things who, if approached in friendship and respect, will respond as best they can within the framework of their society and culture. Jimmy Carter recognized this when he negotiated an end to the nuclear crisis in 1994 and laid the foundation for the cautiously constructive interaction now underway between the U.S. and North Korea.

Humanitarian assistance for relief and development is offered to help people survive and recover from natural and economic crises. But in extending our help, we should not expect the receiving nation to revamp its political, economic and cultural systems in our image. Some changes may reasonably be expected, especially when the crisis resulted from human decisions. And there is ample debate both within the DPRK and with its aid partners regarding whether these changes are coming soon enough or in the "proper" direction.

In fifteen years of development assistance work, I've never encountered a farmer who wasn't willing to look at improved options, provided they made sense within his or her cultural and social environment. North Koreans are just the same. The socio/political environment may be substantially more restrictive than in some other places, but their motivations and aspirations are no different.

A few journalists and aid workers in the DPRK have complained about the monotony of food available. But when I'm served scrambled eggs and toast for the tenth hotel breakfast in a row, I thank my hosts and consider that I'm not eating the Korean "alternative food" mixture of grass, seaweed and surplus cornmeal which is all many families have in this time of shortage.

Randall Ireson is the DPRK Development Assistance Coordinator for American Friends Service Committee.