The last decade or so, the period after the death of Kim Il Sung in 1994, was a time of great changes for the North Korean society. It was marked by the slow collapse of the “National Stalinism” System which existed for over four decades, since the late 1950s. This old system crumbled under the pressure of its own inefficiency as well as manifold economic difficulties, and so a new social and political system is gradually emerging in its place.

The disintegration of the Stalinist economy has profound social consequences, one of which is the rise of new social groups and radical transformation of the entire social hierarchy in North Korea. This article traces how changes in the economy undermined the old hierarchical structures, giving space for new social forces whose impact on the country’s future might be very considerable.

The first signs of economic difficulties appeared in North Korea in the late 1980s, and these difficulties developed into a full-scale economic disaster by 1996. For decades, Soviet aid was vital for keeping the North Korean economy afloat. However, this aid ceased after the disintegration of the USSR. But the regime did not launch any meaningful reform program then since such reforms were seen as politically dangerous. The events of the 1990s, though, demonstrated that the state-managed North Korean economy designed in accordance with the Soviet schemes of the late 1940s is not viable without a constant inflow of foreign aid.

The collapse of the state-run economy led to a standstill of the old state-owned and state-managed factories. Without massive injections from the state budget, North Korean agriculture, which has been traditionally energy-intensive, began to crumble. North Korean propaganda still blames the “unique” floods of 1995-96 for the agricultural disaster of the mid-1990s, but the research clearly indicates that the disintegration of the agriculture began well before 1995. The large floods merely aggravated the many problems which had been accumulating for many years, and a famine ensued.¹

Throughout subsequent years, the social and economic life of North Korea changed dramatically. The most important feature of the new system is a far greater role of private economic activity. Since the 1960s when the “Juche economy” was introduced and until the early 1990s, North Korea’s economic structure was remarkably rigid, even by the standards of the Communist bloc. Among its peculiarities was the exceptionally high share of state property and low level of private economic activity.² North Korea had almost no space for private economy: individual artisans ceased to operate by around 1958. While other Communist countries tolerated cultivation of individual plots on some scale, such plots in North Korea were unusually small, merely 10-15 square meters. Private markets existed but were subjected to many official restrictions. However, this situation is no longer the case. A large part of economic activity in present-day North Korea seems to be related either to processing and re-distributing foreign aid or to the grassroots market economy which has emerged over the last decade.³

These changes in North Korea occurred not as a result of some planned government policy as in China and Vietnam, but were rather a society’s spontaneous response to a sudden economic challenge. The authorities initially tried to check these developments by persecuting market dealers and enforcing restrictions on market trade, but eventually they turned a blind eye and accepted the changes as a fait accompli. In fact, the state endorsed these changes during the much trumpeted “reforms” of 2002, which gave official approval to market trade and sanctioned the increase of the currency exchange rate and retail prices to the levels comparable to those of the black market.

It is important to bear in mind that most business activities which finally received official sanction in 2002 had been occurring on a large scale since the mid-1990s. The only area where the reforms might have meant a breakthrough was the management of state enterprises. Thus, under the new system, managers’ rights increased greatly, and this presumably might have given them the ability to use state property under their control.⁴

The changes in economic structure have brought about deep social transformations. The old system of social control was based on the assumption that all able-bodied North Korean adults are employed by some state-run company, while women could be full-time housewives and still be integrated into the system of official control and indoctrination. However, this is no longer the case, despite the fact that the state refuses to recognize that.

The Slow Disintegration of the “Social Contract”

It has been widely accepted in Soviet studies that the Communist regime in the former USSR was not maintained exclusively through crude application of force and omnipresent police control, but rather through the existence of an implicit “social contract” between the rulers and the ruled. Linda Cook, one of the most prominent exponents of the “social contract theory,” described it in the following terms: “The concept of the social contract, as it has been used in the Sovietology literature, denotes an exchange between regime and society in which each party tacitly committed itself to deliver political goods valued by the other. The regime, for its part, consistently provided certain policy and allocational outcomes; the society, in turn gave political consent and compliance.”⁵ Such a “social contract” obviously existed in North Korea as well.

One of the numerous peculiarities of the North Korean communist system was the special role of work units. In all communist countries, a work unit such as the Chinese danwei and Soviet trudovoi kollektiv, assumed some functions of indoctrination and control.⁶ However, its role in North Korea was especially pronounced. From the late 1950s onwards, all North Koreans have been required to belong to a particular “organization” where they are involved in the obligatory and time-consuming “organizational life” (chojik saenghwal). This “organizational life” not only consisted of endless indoctrination sessions, government-sponsored rallies and self-criticism meetings, but also included participation in mobilization campaigns and unpaid obligatory labor. The most typical form of obligatory labor is annual work at paddy fields during the rice planting season. Every North Korean is expected to be a part of this system.

This “organizational life” is a major difference from the former USSR and other communist countries where a large part of population was left more or less outside the daily reach of political mobilization institutions. Nobody expected, for instance, that a Soviet or Polish housewife would attend political meetings regularly, unless she chose to do so. As for farmers who were not members of the Communist party, exposure to such activities would have been highly unusual. In North Korea the situation was (and to some extent still is) different.⁷

All organizations are based on work units. At the same time, people of the same work unit can have membership in a number of different organizations. First of all, there are members of the ruling Korean Workers Party (KWP), of whom there are approximately four million. All KWP members employed in the same work unit belong to the same party cell and attend all kinds of events arranged by their cell. Members of the younger generation undergo indoctrination within the framework of Kim Il Sung Communist Youth (a nationwide youth organization affiliated with the KWP that automatically enrolls all North Koreans aged between 14 and 30), while elder employees of industrial enterprises who do not have party membership are required to regularly attend the trade union meetings.

The “organizational life” on the farms is similar, the only difference being that elder farmers who are not party members are supposed to attend the meetings of the Farmers’ Union, instead of the Trade Union which handles workers. Finally, full-time housewives are members of the Women’s Union which also holds frequent gatherings, and all Korean females are by default members of Women’s Union, at least in theory.

In the 1970s when the system was at its peak, these regular meetings occupied up to two or three hours every day. Party members were subjected to especially vigorous “political education,” but non-party members could not take the “organizational life” lightly, either. One of the responsibilities of the party cells was arranging the infamous weekly self-criticism sessions, known as saenghwal ch’onghwa (in a rather liberal translation, “reporting on one’s life results”). During these sessions, every single member of a group was required to deliver public confessions of his/her most recent misdeeds, and at least one other member of the same group had to “criticize” the person’s improper actions. The idea seems to be of Chinese origin, but in North Korea, such exercises of public peer control became widely used in the early 1970s and have become obligatory for virtually the entire adult population since then.⁸

The work units also exercise a number of social functions. In theory, the units are responsible for distribution of food and consumer durables. Moreover, the unit to which an individual belongs must approve before one receives required permission from the police when making a trip outside one’s native county (as we will see, in the recent decade these functions have not been carried through as efficiently as before).

For decades, a North Korean could fulfill his/her ambitions almost exclusively through zealous participation in the “organizational life.” Until the early 1990s, the position within the elaborate official hierarchy was by far the most important factor which determined an individual’s standards of living, and this alone ensured that nobody would take the “organizational life” lightly.

While all Communist regimes tended to resort to rationing, North Korea was unique in both the thoroughness of the rationing system and length of its existence. Rationing for the government employees was introduced as early as 1946, and in December 1957 a government decree prohibited all private trade in grain, the primary source of calories for North Koreans.⁹ Throughout the 1960s, the scope of the public distribution system (PDS) grew wider until it became virtually all-encompassing.

Goods were “sold” in the state-run shops for purely token prices. For example, until 2002, the official price of 1 kilo of rice was merely 0.08 NK won (the average monthly salary being approximately 70 won in the early 1980s, and then increased to nearly 90 won in the early 1990s). However, almost nothing was actually sold in North Korea: from the 1960s, rationing coupons were required for virtually any purchase in the state retail system, and it was the authorities who decided how much a particular person was entitled to. For example, in the 1970s and 1980s, adults could get everything between 300 and 900 grams a day, depending on their jobs (retirees received as low as 300 while top cadres and workers involved with heavy labor received 900 grams a day).¹⁰The same was applicable to other goods. Access to more precious goods depended not only on the individual’s “worth” as determined by the state, but also on the political clout of a company where the individual was employed. Of course, the best companies would only accept people with untarnished political credentials and family background, and this was another incentive to comply with the regime.

All this can be described as the North Korean version of tacit “social contract,” somewhat akin to that which existed in the former Soviet Union and other Communist countries. The “masses” followed the rules both out of fear of punishment and on the assumption that in exchange for their “correct” behavior and public expression of loyalty to the regime, they would be granted secure access to a certain amount of goods and services. They also realized that the only way to improve their material life and social standing was ascending within the system, since other avenues for upward social mobility were almost non-existent.

While an entrepreneurial and adventurous individual in the USSR could make good money in the black market, such opportunities were very limited in North Korea. Markets, if not completely outlawed, were quite peripheral, and remained under the strictest control. The 1957 ban on private sale of grain was efficiently enforced until the early 1990s.¹¹ South Korean researchers who studied this topic through numerous interviews with defectors came to the conclusion that until the late 1980s the markets played only an auxiliary role in providing food for North Korean families.¹²

However, the collapse of the PDS in the mid-1990s and the subsequent growth of a grassroots market economy undermined this rigid system. A major problem an average North Korean faces now is the virtual impossibility of surviving on official income alone. In the past, salaries were not large, either. For instance, in the mid-1980s when an average monthly salary was approximately 70-80 won, it would be sufficient to buy merely two or three chickens at the market. However, as long as the PDS functioned well, this was of no great significance, since everybody was given the guaranteed amount of food at purely token prices. While not large, this amount was sufficient for survival.¹³ After the collapse of the PDS in the mid-1990s, the situation changed dramatically. As of early 2006, the monthly salaries for most workers are between 2,000 and 6,000 won (US$1-2 at the effective exchange rate), while one kilo of rice costs 700-800 won.¹⁴ And there is no functioning PDS, so in the new situation, everything had to be bought on the market.

A defector said in 1997 when the real troubles were just beginning: “In case of our family, we had to get at least 60 kg of grain, but we received only 10 kg [in 1995-96] and could not survive. Thus, from the last year [1996] I began to go to the market and trade, and [thus] made enough to live on.”¹⁵ Under such circumstances, the private trade or small house-based handicrafts became the only means of survival for most North Koreans. Apart from the rapidly growing market trade and various kinds of services, people are engaged in small house-based production. Typically, they produce garments (often from textiles smuggled from China) and footwear, but also some simple home implements like brushes. For example, in the borderland city of Sinŭiju, garment manufacturing (with the use of textile, buttons and zippers from China) began to flourish from around 1999-2000.¹⁶

A North Korean observer described the situation in the country after the great famine thus: “Those who could not trade are long dead, and we are only left with survivors hanging around now.”¹⁷ Two prominent specialists on the North Korean economy recently put the same idea in a more scholarly way: “One of the major reasons which allowed the North Korean system to survive this crisis was the growth of the market activities.”¹⁸

It is remarkable that even the spatial structure of North Korean cities has changed: prior to the 1990s, the markets existed on the outskirts of large cities as something incompatible with an ideal image of a socialist state. However, as Ch’oe Pong-dae and Ku Kap-u observed, from the early 1990s onwards, markets not only greatly increased in size, but also moved to more central locations.¹⁹ It is important to note that this growth of private markets was by no means a result of some pre-planned reforms encouraged by the government. As late as 1999, at the height of the famine, North Korean authorities launched yet another campaign to close down the “illegal markets” in the countryside. Around the same time, the regime still publicly extolled the traditional Stalinist economic strategy, with special attention paid to the “further growth” of the heavy industry (which for all practical purposes had come to a nearly complete halt few years earlier).²⁰

The collapse of the PDS in 1994-96 was probably the most important factor which undermined the “social contract.” Under the new circumstances, it did not make much sense for an average worker to show up for work or attend official meetings. Most of the factories came to a standstill, and by early 1997, the average production of major plants was reportedly a mere 46% of capacity.²¹ People did their best to earn a living through market activities, cultivating private plots (reluctantly tolerated by the late 1990s in some parts of the country) and engaging in small handicrafts. In post-famine North Korea, it became a common sense assumption that supporting oneself solely through official channels is impossible. In late 2005, a defector said: “Of course, school teachers, like all other people in North Korea, cannot survive on the salary alone. If they want to stay alive, they have to do something else.”²²

In this new situation, the party-state can neither punish the transgressors which are too numerous, nor reward the faithful few. Those who kept coming to their non-operational factories and still followed the old rules were getting nothing in exchange, but wasting time which could be invested elsewhere. Additionally, workers could see that an average black market vendor is doing much better than an average “model worker.” This means that new avenues for prosperity have emerged which are open even to people with poor political credentials who had been discriminated against under the old system.

Changes in Social Hierarchy

Nowadays, a North Korean private vendor, if he or she is hard-working, entrepreneurial and lucky enough, can easily reach the standard of living once reserved exclusively for the cadres. Indeed, according to a Bank of Korea 2002 survey of the former market vendors and other private entrepreneurs who had defected to the South, their average monthly income around 2000 was 5,056 won, 50.7 times higher than the average monthly salary at the time.²³

The predictable result was a gradual disintegration of the once unique and omnipresent system of state control and indoctrination. As a recent defector remarked in an interview: “North Korea has changed a lot. In the past, only very close people could make critical remarks about the authorities among themselves, but nowadays the students openly make such remarks when they are walking the streets.”²⁴ Another defector answered the author’s question about the major difference of North Korea during and after the famine in the following way: “It is more capitalist, people care less about the party. And it is more free — in 2002, it was possible to talk about things which would be very dangerous in 1996 or 1997.”²⁵

Another important result of the social changes is a serious damage inflicted on the “Sŏngbun System,” an essential part of the North Korean social control structure. All Stalinist regimes took one’s family background quite seriously, and connections mattered everywhere, but the North Korean state developed this system to its logical end. In the late 1950s, the entire population of the country was classified according to the people’s family background and, thus, their perceived political reliability. The system acquired its current shape between 1964 and 1969 when the specially appointed groups undertook a painstaking investigation of every North Korean family. With some minor changes, this system has been functioning to the present day.

For the purposes of the Sŏngbun System, the whole population of the DPRK is divided into 51 hereditary groups, which, in turn form three strata or classes: the “main” (kibon kyech’ûng), the “wavering” (tongyou kyech’ûng), and the “hostile” (chôktae kyech’ûng). For example, the “main” stratum included 12 groups, such as workers who originated from working families; former farmhands; former poor peasants; the personnel of state organisations; KWP members; the family members of deceased revolutionaries; and the family members of the national liberation fighters.

Among the “wavering strata,” there are such groups as: “workers of complicated origin,” that is, people who become workers after Liberation, but prior to 1945-1948 had been entrepreneurs and officials in the colonial administration; former wealthy peasants; former small or medium merchants; and former landlords. The lowest “hostile strata” included such people as descendents and relatives of religious activists, political criminals, defectors to the South, former female shamans and other political undesirables. As a rule, membership in such a group is hereditary, even if a particular person has some chances to improve his or her standing through marriage, military service, and other means. For decades, the need to uphold one’s family’s place in this quasi-feudal system was a powerful incentive for officially approved behavior, since its transgression could not only lead to the punishment of an individual concerned, but also produce a lasting effect on his or her family.

There was considerable variation in rights and privileges not only among the three strata, but also among different groups within each stratum. For instance, the more discriminated against groups had no access to college-level education and could not live in major cities. In the case of the groups with the worst background, their members were not even allowed to join the armed forces. This might not sound as a harsh punishment, but in North Korea, those who did not join the army would have no chance of being promoted to a white-collar job. This was also a serious discrimination, since joining the army would provide the chance to improve sŏngbun for the relatively less ostracized groups.²⁶

One of the paradoxes of the recent changes is the steady growth in income and social prestige of the groups which were seen as suspicious in the past. Among the newly emerging merchants, two groups are clearly overrepresented: the returnees from Japan (and their families) and people with relatives in China. Both groups were seen as suspicious and unreliable due to their connections with the overseas world. However, in the recent years, exactly these connections helped to propel the more successful members of both groups to a level of prosperity undreamt of by the majority of their compatriots.²⁷ A recent defector described the situation: “The major market dealers in Pyongyang belong to the following groups: the Japanese returnee who receives large sums of money from their relatives in Japan, and ethnic Chinese and merchants who made their money themselves.”²⁸

The major source of prosperity for these groups is their easy access to hard currency. In a country where the average monthly salary is between three and five dollars, $200 is a significant amount which can make a shrewd investor rich in a very short time. In the past, the returnees also received money transfers from their relatives in Japan, but they had to spend this money in the state-run currency shops where they could purchase imported goods (including quality food) for unreasonably high prices. Although this made them affluent by North Korean standards, they still were suspicious in the eyes of the government, and it is telling that the Koreans of the “good background” usually avoided marrying into such families and generally tried to steer clear of these “bad sŏngbuners.”²⁹ With the growth of grassroots capitalism, however, investment became possible, which allowed families who formerly resided in Japan to get even wealthier by North Korean standards. It also helps that the Japanese returnees often have better ideas about market economy than their fellow compatriots, but access to currency is still the most important factor.

From what is known, it appears that those with relatives in China do not receive as many money transfers. This is understandable: China, especially North-East China where most ethnic Koreans live, is not nearly as prosperous as Japan. However, Chinese relatives either help North Koreans to travel overseas or come to Korea themselves with a lot of merchandise. They also use their capital and expertise to help their Korean relatives to start cross-border trade, whether legal or not quite. Having relatives in China nowadays greatly increases chances for mobility, so some people even invent such relatives and use go-betweens to pay ethnic Koreans in China in order to receive fake statement of relations and invitations from them.³⁰

The collapse of the old control system made large-scale illegal migration to China possible, which was once completely unthinkable. According to a study conducted by South Korean sociologists in China from November 1998 to April 1999, between 143,000 and 195,000 refugees were living in northeastern China at that time.³¹ Nowadays, the numbers are much smaller, about 30,000-50,000, but it is important to note that a large part of this community consists of people who went to China only for a short stay to earn some money through casual work or market trade. The actual number of people who travel back and forth across the border is far greater.³²

Under the new circumstances, illegal border crossing, once considered to be a grave crime, is seen as merely a minor offense these days. According to a research by O Kyŏng-sŏp based on numerous interviews with North Korean defectors, from around 1995, the treatment of the escapees became much more lenient. In earlier years, an illegal border crossing to China would be punished by a few years of imprisonment. However, in the mid-1990s the situation changed: since the numbers of defectors are so great and their actions clearly lack political motives, the refugees extradited from China or intercepted by the border guards are usually incarcerated for several months and then released (many of them try to cross the border again).³³ This policy is understandable since defectors are now too numerous to be treated with the same degree of harshness as before. Moreover, South Korean authorities are remarkably unwilling to encourage defection so few of these refugees would have chances to move to South Korea. This means that the political risks associated with the cross-border movement are not that high.³⁴

From 2002, the North Korean authorities even began to issue temporary travel permits to China, which are accepted by the Chinese side. Such a document (chumin kukkyŏng t’onghaeng chŭng) gives its holder the right to cross the border, and many petty merchants prefer to use this officially recognized opportunity for their business.³⁵ In a sense, it is a quasi-passport, valid for trips only to China, and the introduction of the new system to a large extent reflects the indirect political pressures from the rising merchant class.

In spite of its relatively small size, North Korea always maintained a remarkable difference between the few major cities (above all Pyongyang) and the impoverished countryside. The living standards in major urban centers were far higher than elsewhere, and forceful deportation from Pyongyang was a serious (and common) punishment. Nowadays, this situation has changed, largely against the government’s will and intentions. While most of the countryside remains marginalized and very poor, the areas along the Chinese border, once discriminated against and seen as a place of exile, are making the most of the new social and economic situation. The relative geographic distance from the central government might play some role, but the proximity of the Chinese border is more important, since the cross-border trade and smuggling provide the major sources of income for the area. One North Korean described the plight of a defector’s family as such: “Following our elder brother’s defection in September 1990 while he was studying in Moscow, our entire family was exiled to Onsŏng County in North Hamgyŏng Province. Now the borderland is a place where one can have a really good life, but at that time, it was a place where life was hard.”³⁶

Of course, this new affluence is not shared by all. As a refugee woman said: “I came to Musan because it is close to the Chinese border and hence life there should be better (obviously, a common sense assumption in North Korea of the late 1990s – A.L.), but the place was not particularly good. People who traded with China were OK, but commoners lived even worse than in Sinp’o (the refugee’s native place – A.L.).”³⁷

A certain degree of liberalization can be noticed even in the North Korean prison camp system which still remains one of the world’s most brutal. The system still holds an estimated 150-200,000 inmates, who are routinely subjected to beatings and torture and whose food is meager even by North Korean standards.³⁸ However, even in this area, there are signs of some relaxation. In early 2006, there were defectors’ reports claiming that prisoners are beaten less frequently and the earlier routine of beating suspects in relatively minor cases during investigations has largely disappeared.³⁹ In some cases the authorities subject to mild punishment even those people who a couple of decades ago would have had no chances of survival. The story of Yi Yŏng-guk, Kim Jong Il’s former bodyguard, is illustrative. Disillusioned with the North Korean system, he fled to China and attempted to defect to South Korea, but was caught in China and repatriated to North Korea. In the days of Kim Il Sung, torture and execution awaited anyone who betrayed the personal trust of the Great Leader. In the comparatively liberal atmosphere of the 1990s, however, Yi was treated with surprising leniency: he was sent to a prison camp and soon released on the orders of Kim Jong Il. Perhaps not unexpectedly, he used the opportunity to repeat his escape attempt and this time eventually reached Seoul.⁴⁰

The new emerging social hierarchy is based on one’s financial worth, and is largely independent from the old hierarchy where one’s social worth and living standards were decided exclusively by the party-state bureaucracy. Of course, the cadres and their families have far better chances to succeed in the new economy, and having cozy relationships with local officials is essential to succeed in business. However, there is a great difference between the use of one’s position to extract additional income (strictly speaking, through illegal means) and the guaranteed right to income thanks to standing within the system. In general, as a long-time observer of North Korean life put it, these days “power is money, money is power.”⁴¹

In such a situation, the younger generation have at least two possible channels of upward social mobility: either through the old bureaucracy or via market activities. The former channel looks less promising, and it is almost closed for the not-so-privileged segment of the population. For many youths from families with inferior “sŏngbun”, an official career is simply not an option. At the same time, making money through commercial activity and private enterprise, in spite of some risks, might appear more attractive, at least to the more adventurous segments of the population. At any rate, for the first time in many decades, North Koreans have begun to see an alternative way to success, essentially uncontrolled by the state.

The predictable result of the new situation is a decline in the status of the KWP members. For decades, an opportunity to join the party was much coveted by all socially ambitious North Koreans, some of whom went to great lengths to acquire membership. Indeed, easier access to party membership was one of the factors which made military service so attractive, and bribes and connections were widely used by aspiring candidates to get into the party. The KWP membership, while not sufficient itself, was the major necessary prerequisite for even modest social advancement in North Korea between 1945 and 1990. As a defector recently put it, “at those times [the late 1970s] in North Korea, in order to succeed, the most important things were party membership and college education, official awards and connections came second. Because of this, not only men but even women went to the army to enter the party there.”⁴² It is remarkable that the defector uses past tense in this sentence. Indeed, the role of the party, this pillar of the Leninist society, has changed dramatically over the last decade.⁴³

Even past party membership was not without its drawbacks, since compared to common people, the KWP members were subjected to more rigorous and time-consuming indoctrination and were also the first to be mobilized for unpaid labor. In the present-day situation, the drawbacks seem to outweigh the benefits which are no longer deemed significant, when new avenues for social promotion are available. As Chu Sŏng-ha writes, “Even if you are not a graduate of a good college, and even if you never joined the party, you are still seen as a first-class person if you earn a lot of money.”⁴⁴ Another defector journalist supports this opinion: “As the economic situation deteriorated, and it became increasingly difficult to get food, the attention of the people turned to economic power and value of party membership declined sharply.”⁴⁵

The Female Face of the New Economy

A typical example of a new-style wholesale trader is Ms. Hwang who was interviewed by a South Korean journalist in late 2005. Born to an ethnically Korean mother and a Han Chinese father in China, she moved to North Korea in the late 1960s as a child, after her father was killed in the violent days of the Cultural Revolution. She started her cross-border trade business around 1997, using her family connections with China. Having good relations with the authorities is an important part of operations. She said: “If one wants to trade in North Korea, permission from the authorities is necessary… If you have good relations with state security, you get border passes easily; if you have good relations with the police, you are protected from the thieves; if you have good relations with the party, it’s easy to trade.” However, even this formidable woman sometimes had to make political gestures, albeit of an unusual kind. In 1997, she was demanded to buy 100,000 pairs of socks with her own money which would then be distributed to the population of a borderland county as “presents from General Kim Jong Il.”⁴⁶

A remarkable feature of the current social situation is the prominence of women in the new economy, at least in its lower strata. This partially reflects a growth pattern of North Korean proto-capitalism. When crisis began, and the PDS ceased to function, men still felt bound to their jobs by their obligations and rations. Used to the stability of the previous decades, many North Koreans obviously saw the situation as merely a temporary crisis that soon would be overcome. Thus, the men believed that it would be wise to keep their jobs in order to resume their careers after the situation was eventually normalized.

The authorities also tried to press people into attending their workplaces, whether there was any actual work to be done or not (one such crackdown on the absentees took place in 1998, and another seems to be unrolling from 2005).⁴⁷ In the worst years of the economic crisis, the levels of absenteeism ran very high. According to a report of a well-informed NGO dealing with North Korea, in 1997, more than half of all workers were routinely absent from their jobs in the city of Hamhŭng.⁴⁸ It is remarkable that even in recent years, many employees of the state enterprises who had been long unpaid still think it would be prudent to bribe their supervisors for covering their long-term absence. This type of bribing seems to be a rather common practice in North Korea, frequently mentioned by North Koreans defectors.⁴⁹

Housewives, on the other hand, have always enjoyed more freedom. By the standard of communist countries, North Korea has a rather high percentage of housewives among its married women. While in most other communist countries, women were encouraged to continue to work after marriage, the North Korean government was never opposed if women chose to become full-time housewives. Thus, when the economic crisis began, unemployed housewives were the first to take up market activities of all kinds. This came very naturally. In some cases they began by selling those household items they could do without, or by selling homemade food. Eventually, this developed into larger businesses. In the initial years of the economic crisis, men continued to go to their plants (which by the mid-1990s had generally ceased to operate) on the assumption that when things “got back to normal” such behavior would help to maintain the family’s social status. Women, on the other hand, did not have this concern and engaged in the market instead.⁵⁰

The result was a remarkable change in power relations within the family. As one female defector put it, “From 1997-98, men became useless pets. Men went to work, but since there was nothing to do, they came back [home]. If their wives went to far places to get food, men were looking after the houses.”⁵¹⁵² Recently, when it is increasingly clear that the “old times” is not going to return, some men are bold enough to risk breaking their ties with official employment. But they often go to the market not as businessmen in their own right but rather as aides to their wives who have amassed great experience over the past decade. Being newcomers, men are relegated to subordinate positions in the emerging “capitalism from below” – at least for the time being. Or alternatively, they are involved in more dangerous and stressful kinds of activity, such as smuggling goods across the highly protected border with China. As one female defector said: “Men usually smuggle. Men are better in big things, you know.”

Grassroots Capitalism in North Korea

The emerging businesses are not limited to cross-border trade and retail operations. There are numerous small private enterprises operating in the service industry. In 2002, a young defector described the situation: “In the 1990s the North Korean private food industry achieved explosive growth and reached surprising proportions… If you get out from a railway station, the first thing which draws your attention is food stalls… Shoes and bicycle repair shops, lighter re-filling shops, wheel-barrow porters appeared more recently.”⁵³ Indeed, the reports coming from North Korea since the late 1990s are full of depictions of large markets where all basic needs of the customers are taken care of. Inns, repair shops, and even brothels are to be found at markets in all major cities.^,54 After decades of complete absence of any non-state economic activities, this explosion of private entrepreneurship is truly remarkable.

The fishermen also became a privileged group in recent years, since sales of seafood to overseas markets have become a major source of income. A popular saying holds that three groups (sam bu) are successful in North Korea – “cadres, fishermen and widows” (the reference to the “widows” is sometimes interpreted as a hint at prostitutes while others explain that it refers to single middle-aged women who make money through market trade).⁵⁵

Quasi-banking services were certain to emerge in the situation when profits might be high but no regular banking is available, and usurers are becoming common in North Korean cities for the first time in 60 years. “Mr. B from Sinŭiju is rumored to be worth one million dollars. He loans money to creditworthy people at a high monthly interest of 5%. In urgent cases, his services are used by the commercial companies which are established by the military to earn currency.”⁵⁶ This is not the only report about private (and strictly speaking, illegal) operators who provide credit to the “currency earning” companies which belong to the government, at least nominally. Actually, the monthly interest of 5% is not high by North Korean standards. In the black credit market of Pyongyang, the interest rate can reach as high as 30% a month.

The “one million dollar’s worth” might be an exaggeration, but it is clear that we are talking about large operators whose existence was unthinkable in the recent past. All numbers are guesswork and will perhaps never be known precisely. However, in summer 2003, the Chugan Chosŏn weekly estimated the number of Pyongyang’s “new rich” at “some 1000.” By the “new rich,” the magazine meant people whose personal fortunes exceeded US$100,000. This amount might appear to be relatively small, but in a country where the average monthly salary is between $2 and $4, this really is a fortune.⁵⁷ In late 2004, it was estimated that there were some 20-30 prominent, specialized usurers in Pyongyang, each managing capital in excess of $100,000.⁵⁸

Conclusion

The period from the early 1990s has been a time of great changes in North Korea. The North Korean economic system became outdated long ago, but for decades, skillful diplomatic maneuvering with China and the Soviet Union ensured that continuous foreign aid would pay for the economy’s inner inefficiencies. Only when the aid ceased coming in 1990-91, the economy began to fall apart, and this had profound political consequences. The country’s unique system of control was possible only as long as the North Korean government could meet two rather expensive demands: first, to be able to pay a small army of people whose only job was to enforce the regulations; second, to maintain its own side of an implicit “social contract” and provide the populace (or rather its well-behaving majority) with a certain amount of rationed food and other necessities.

The recent transformations in North Korea are different from the changes which happened in China under Deng Xiaoping or in the former USSR under Gorbachev. In China as well as in the USSR, the system was dismantled from above, as a result of government-led reforms. No Gorbachev or Deng Xiaoping emerged to initiate reforms in North Korea. Since the early 1990s, its government has oscillated between half-hearted attempts to uphold the classical Stalinist values and grudging acceptance of the changing social and economic reality. In the North Korean case, the old system began to disintegrate from below. In the situation when the government and the state-run economy was unable to deliver even the meager amount of goods and services which had been seen as reasonably sufficient by the populace, the commoners had to start looking for other ways to ensure their own survival. It is clear that North Korea’s system of omnipresent state control, once unique and formidable, is gradually falling apart. The North Korean state has lost much of its ability to reward what it sees as a good behavior and punish what is considered to be a deviation.

For the first time in many decades, new avenues for the social promotion have emerged, and new strategies to survive and succeed became possible. These new opportunities are largely uncontrolled by the state-party bureaucracy. The social hierarchy has changed and new groups, once virtually absent, have emerged to play an important role in the society and economy. Most of these new social groups are closely related to the thriving “second economy” which is essentially capitalist and have no vested interest in keeping the old system intact. If anything, the collapse or radical transformation of the North Korean system will bring them some improvement. These new forces have greater knowledge of the outside world, and their mentality is different from that of the cadres or the military elite.

The North Korean regime can last for many more years, especially since all its neighbors, including its long-time archrival South Korea, have a vested interest in its continuous existence. Although it is true that the regime remains brutal and inefficient by any standard, it can hardly be described as “Stalinist” any more. On the other hand, the changes are slow, largely because the government is undecided about whether such transformations should be promoted or even tolerated. The changes are seen as a grave threat to the stability of the regime, and hence the government does its best to halt them or at least slow them down. It remains an open question whether North Korea can follow the Chinese path or whether its “grassroots de-Stalinization” will lead to its complete collapse. At any rate, it is impossible to see how Kim Il-sung’s style of communism can possibly be revived.

Endnotes

1. Among studies of the economic side of the North Korean famine, perhaps the most detailed is: Noland, Marcus, Sherman Robinson, and Tao Wang, “Famine in North Korea: Causes and Cures,” Economic Development and Cultural Change 4, 2001, pp. 741-67.
2. In 1991, when the old economic system was still largely intact, Suk Bum Yoon described North Korea as “one of the most closed and rigid command economies” (see: Suk Bum Yoon, “A Preliminary Estimation of an Econometric Model for North Korea,” Korean Studies 15, 1991.)
3. For a lengthy and careful research of changes which have taken place in the North Korean economy in the years of the “arduous march,” see: Ch’a Mun-sǒk, “1990 nyǒndae ‘konan-ŭi haenggun-i’ pukahan-e mich’in yǒnghyang; ‘konan-ŭi haenggun’-gwa pukhan kyǒngje-ŭi sǒnggyǒk pyǒnhwa [The influence of the ‘arduous march of the 1990s on North Korea’; the ‘arduous march’ and changes in the nature of North Korean economy],” Hyǒndae Pukhan yǒngu 1, 2005, pp.39-80. The article traces the gradual collapse of the bureaucracy-driven planned economy and the rise of the market-based economic structures. Ch’a Mun-sǒk even describes the North Korean economy of the early 2000s as “transitional,” applying the same term which is frequently used to describe the post-communist economies of Eastern Europe.
4. For one of the most recent reviews of the 2002 reforms and comparisons between these measures and Soviet-era experiments in East Europe, see: Bernhard Seliger, “The July 2002 Reforms in North Korea: Liberman-Style Reforms or Road to Transformation?” North Korean Review 1, 2005, pp. 22-37.
5. Linda Cook, The Soviet social contract and why it failed: welfare policy and workers’ politics from Brezhnev to Yeltsin (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993), p.3.
6. On the role of danwei see, for example: Xiaobo Lu and Elizabeth J. Perry (eds.), Danwei: The Changing Chinese Workplace in Historical and Comparative Perspective (Armonk and London: M. E. Sharpe, 1997). Chapters 5 and 6 (pp.114-166) of this book contains a review of the “work unit” system in Soviet Russia as well as comparisons between Chinese and Soviet models.
7. The descriptions of North Korea’s unambiguous “organizational life” are quite numerous. For example, see: Kim Sŭng-ch’ǒl, Majimak hŭimang [Last Hope] (Seoul: Charyowŏn, 2000), pp.185-252.
8. For a detailed description of the Saenghwal ch’onghwa System, see: Ibid., pp.236-242.
9. Ch’oe Pong-dae and Ku Kap-u, “Pukhan tosi ‘nongmin sijang’ hyŏngsŏng kwajŏng-ŭi ihaengronjŏk hamŭi: 1950–80 nyŏndae Sinŭiju, Ch’ ŏngjin, Hyesan-ŭi sarye-rŭl chungsim-ŭro [The Dynamic Study of the Process of Formation of ‘Farmers Markets’ in a North Korean City: Centered Around the Case Study of Sinŭiju, Ch’ŏngjin, and Hyesan in the 1950s–80s], Hyŏndae Pukhan yŏngu 6, no. 2 (2003), p.147.
10. The system of the rationing norms was quite elaborate and kept changing over decades. For a detailed review of rationing system as it looked in the mid-1980s, see: Sŏ Tong-ik, Inmin-ŭi sanŭn mosŭp [How the Masses Live] (Seoul: Charyowon, vol. 2, 1995), pp. 211-250.
11. There were reports that this ban was officially lifted in July 1999 (for a statement to this effect, see for example: “Pukhanŭi nongmin sijang [Farmers’ markets in North Korea],” T’ongil siron 10, 2000, p.187). However, by that time the ban had not been enforced for years. For example, see the reports of a refugee about the situation in Pyongyang in 1997 where it is clearly stated that markets were a major source of foodstuff: “Puk chumin-ŭi saenghwal sang [Lifestyle of the populace in the North],” Seoul Sinmun, 19 February 1998, p.6. Another report from roughly the same time also dealing with the flourishing grain trade is: Yi Sŭng-jae, “Pukhan sijangkyŏngje rihŏsal? [A rehearsal of the “market economy” in North Korea?],” Munhwa Ilbo, 26 November 1998, p.3.
12. For a detailed study of the gradual growth of the North Korean markets, see: Ch’oe Pong-dae and Ku Kap-u, “Pukhan tosi ‘nongmin sijang’ hyŏngsŏng kwajŏng-ŭi ihaengronjŏk hamŭi: 1950–80 nyŏndae Sinŭiju, Ch’ ŏngjin, Hyesan-ŭi sarye-rŭl chungsim-ŭro [The Dynamic Study of the Process of Formation of ‘Farmers Markets’ in a North Korean City: Centered Around the Case Study of Sinŭiju, Ch’ ŏngjin, and Hyesan in the 1950s–80s]”, Hyŏndae Pukhan yŏngu 6, no. 2 (2003).
13. When the PDS worked, most North Korean adults were entitled to the daily ration of 500-700 g of rice and/or other cereals. It is remarkable that the amount of grain is roughly similar to the amount which was seen as “normal” for a Korean farmer in the Late Chosŏn period, in the 18th and 19th centuries.
14. Kim Yŏng-jin and Kwon Chŏng-hyŏn, “Irwol pukhan mulga chosa [Study of retail prices in North Korea in January],” Daily NK, 17 January 2006.
15. Son Hong-ja, “Chubudŭl-ŭi taehwa, mŏknŭn sori-wa changsa yegi ppun ida [Talks of housewives, only about food and market trade],” T’ongil Hanguk 12, 1997, p.66.
16. An interview with Han Yŏng-jin. 22 May 2006. Han Yŏng-jin is a native of the borderland city of Sinŭiju.
17. Sin Sŭng-gŭn, “Pukhan, mŏkko salman haeyŏssta? [North Korea, Was it a Day-to-Day Survival?],” Hangerye 21, #404 (10 April 2002).
18. Ch’oe Pong-dae and Ku Kap-u, “Pukhan tosi ‘chang madang’ halsŏnghwa-ŭi tonghak: 1990 nyŏndae Sinŭiju, Ch’ŏngjin, Hyesan-ŭl chungsim-ŭro [The Growth of ‘Farmers Markets’ in a North Korean City: Centered Around Sinŭiju, Ch’ŏngjin, and Hyesan in the 1990s],” Hyŏndae Pukhan yŏngu 8, # 3 (2005).
19. Ibid., p.97.
20. Ch’a Mun-sŏk, pp.57-58, 62-64.
21. Yi Kyo-kwan, “Sanŏp sisŏl kadongyul 77%-ro k’ ŭge hyangsang [The Great Increase of the Capacity Usage Ratio to 77%],” Chosŏn Ilbo, 9 April, 2001, p.41.
22. Kim Chu-ŭn, “Kyŏwon wolgŭp-uro man salgi himdŭlda [It is difficult to live on teacher’s salary alone],” T’ongil Hanguk 1, 2006, p.89. In the case of Kim Chu-ŭn, whose words were cited, this “something else” meant that her mother kept pigs for sale at the market.
23. “Pukhan-ŭi sakyŏngje (che 2 kyŏngje) silt’ae [The situation in North Korean private economy (second economy)],” Pukhan 1, 2003, p.221. The research was conducted by a team in the Bank of Korea.
24. Hŏ Chi-su, “Mojop’um man chandŭk issnŭn pakmugwan [A museum which is full of imitations only],” T’ongil Hanguk 12, 2005, p.89.
25. Author’s interview with Han Yŏng-jin. Seoul, 10 April 2006.
26. There are virtually thousands of testimonies about institutional discrimination of the “low orders” which continued well into the 1990s. An example, taken almost at random, is a recent testimony of a defector who in the mid-1990s could not enter a second-rate college since her grandfather defected to the South in 1950. See Kim Sun-im, “Chae-jung t’albukja-ŭi sŏrŭm [The sorrows of a North Korean defector in China],” Pukhan 1, 2006. During a survey in 1999, a majority of the defectors described the worries about the quality of one’s sŏngbun as the major problem which troubles North Korean youngsters (37% of all participants mentioned as the major worry). See “Pukhan ch’ŏngnyŏndŭl-ŭi kajang k’ŭn komin kori-nŭn c’ulsin sŏngbun [Sŏngbun as the major reason to worry among the North Korean youngsters],” T’ongil Hanguk 6, 1997, pp.88-90. While interpreting these results, however, one should remember that the survey was taken before the major influx of the refugees which began around 2000, and it is explicitly stated that many of the survey participants fled to the South in the 1970s and 1980s, so the picture reflects the situation under the “old system.” The best description of Sŏngbun System in English can be found in: Helen-Louise Hunter, Kim Il-song’s North Korea (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1999), especially pp.31-34.
27. It is a common place statement that the Japanese returnees and people with Chinese connections are overrepresented among the new rich. For some generalized remarks to this effect, see: Yi Kyo-kwan, “Pukhan-ŭi sin kwŏnlyŏkja-dŭl [The new powerful of North Korea],” Chugan Chosŏn 1758, 19 June 2003.
28. Ibid. The cited words belong to Yim Yŏng-sŏn, a defector and political activist.
29. More testimonies of the ambivalent standing of the Japanese repatriates who in Kim Il Sung’s North Korea were both privileged and discriminated: Yi Su-ryŏn, “T’alpukhan chaeil tongp’o-ŭi anae-ŭi sugi [A diary of a wife of a Japanese Korean who escaped from the North],” Wolgan Choŏn 7, 2001.
30. Chu Sŏng-ha, “Pinbu kyŏkch’a sahoe munje-ro [The gap between rich and poor is becoming a social issue],” Tong’a Ilbo, 5 July, 2005, p.45.
31. The study was commissioned by “Choh’ŭn pŏs” [Good Friend], a South Korean NGO that plays a prominent role in helping refugees. The results of the study were published in 1999 as Tumangang-ŏl Kŏnnŏon Saramdŏl [People Who Have Crossed the Tumen River] (Seoul: Chŏngdo, 1999), p.27.
32. For more material on the North Koreans’ presence in China, see: Andrei Lankov, “North Korean Refugees in North Eastern China,” Asian Survey 6, 2004.
33. O Kyŏng-sŏp, Pukhan ingwon ch’imhae kujojŏk silt’ae-ŭi taehan yŏngu, chongch’ibŏm suyongso-rŭl chungsim-ŭro [The study of the structure of the human rights violations in North Korea, centered around prison camps for the political criminals] (MA thesis. Seoul: Koryŏ taehakkyo, 2005), pp.59-60.
34. For a review of the complicated issues related to the treatment of the refugees in China and South Korea, see: Andrei Lankov, “Bitter Taste of Paradise: North Korean Refugees in South Korea”, Journal of East Asian Studies 1, 2006.
35. Kim Yŏng-jin, “Puk-chung t’onghaeng chŭng noemul ch’oego 12 man won [The highest bribe for a temporary travel permits to China is 120,000 won),” DailyNK, 26 December 2004.
36. Ichhyŏjin irŭmdŭl [Forgotten Names] (Seoul: Sidae chŏngsin, 2004), p.201. For more on the sudden reversal of fortune in the borderland areas, see Yi, “The New Powerful People”; and Kim Mi-yŏng, “Kykkyŏng tosidŭl ‘Pyongyang-i an purŏpta’ [The Borderland Cities ‘Do Not Envy Pyongyang’],” Chosŏn Ilbo, 7 September, 2001, p.53.
37. Kim Yŏng-ok and Kim Yŏng-jin, “T’albukja-ŭi sugi: Kohyang-e musŏwŏ mos ka, hanguk-ŭn ton ŏpsŏ mos ka [North Korean defector’s notes: Cannot go home because I’m afraid, cannot go to South Korea, because I have no money],” DailyNK, 5 February 2006.
38. In recent years, a number of North Korean prison memoirs as well as some reports on the North Korean prison system have emerged. The book of Kang Ch’ŏl-hwan is by far the best known (Kang Chol-hwan and Pierre Rigoulot, Aquariums of Pyongyang: Ten Years in the North Korean GulagThe Hidden Gulag: Exposing North Korea’s Prison Camps (Washington: U.S. Committee for Human Rights in North Korea, 2003). In Korean, the best book is: Ichhyŏjin irŭmdŭl (Trans. by Yair Reiner) (New York: Basic Books, 2001). There are other publications and reports such as: David Hawk, [Forgotten Names] (Seoul: Sidae chŏngsin, 2004).
39. Kwon Chŏng-hyŏn, “Puksong changgisu Yi In-mo pukhan ingwon kaesŏn wihae noryŏk [Yi In-mo, the long-time prisoner who has been sent to the North working to improve human rights in North Korea],” DailyNK, 15 January 2006.
40. Yi Yŏng-guk told his own story in a recently published book: Yi Yŏng-guk, Na-nŭn Kim Chhŏng-il kyŏnghowon iŏssta [I Was the Bodyguard of Kim Jong Il] (Seoul: Sidae chŏngsin, 2004).
41. Chu Sŏng-ha, “Kwŏnryŏk-ŭn ton, ton-ŭn kwŏnryŏk [Power is money, money is power],” Tong’a Ilbo, January 31, 2006, p.41. Chu Sŏng-ha is a North Korean defector himself, one of handful of defectors employed by mainstream South Korean media outlets.
42. Hŏ Yŏng-sik, “Na-nŭn wae Chosŏn Nodongdang-ŭl kkaekkŭsi pŏryŏssna? [Why did I leave the Korean Workers Party],” Daily NK, 7 October 2005. These words are typical. Similar statements about importance of party membership and the perception of the military service as the surest way to acquire it can be found in numerous stories written and told by the older defectors.
43. For more material on changing attitude to the KWP membership, see an article by Han Yŏng-jin, a defector journalist from the Daily NK. The article has a rather telling title: Han Yŏng-jin, “Yojŭm Puk kunindŭl, iptang NO, ton pŏri OK [Recently, for the North Korean servicemen: entering the party? No! Making money? OK!],” DailyNK, 24 April 2006.
44. Chu Sŏng-ha, “Kwŏnryŏk-ŭn ton, ton-ŭn kwŏnryŏk [Power is money, money is power], p.41.
45. Kang Ch’ŏl-hwan, “Puk nodongdangwon twemyŏn kamun-ŭi yŏnggwang-ŭn yesmal [In North Korea, “becoming KWP member is family glory” has now become an irrelevant saying],” Chosŏn Ilbo, 27 November 2002, p.40.
46. “Kim Jŏng Il saengil yangmal 10man k’yŏllye pach’yŏssta” [100,000 socks presented for the birthday of Kim Jong Il],” Daily NK, 27 April 2005.
47. Ch’oe Pong-dae and Ku Kap-u, “Pukhan tosi ‘chang madang’ halsŏnghwa-ŭi tonghak: 1990 nyŏndae Sinŭiju, Ch’ŏngjin, Hyesan-ŭl chungsim-ŭro [The Growth of ‘Farmers Markets’ in a North Korean City: Centered Around Sinŭiju, Ch’ŏngjin, and Hyesan in the 1990s]”, Hyŏndae Pukhan yŏngu 8, no. 3 (2005), p.81.
48. Pukhan saramdŭr-i marhanŭn pukhan iyagi [Stories about North Korea as told by the North Koreans] (Seoul: Chŏngdo, 2000), p.108.
49. Kwon Chŏng-hyŏn, “Hamhŭngsi kagu 90%, changsa-ro saenggye yuji [90% of households in the city of Hamhŭng survive through private trade],” Daily NK, 22 January 2006. It is mentioned in the article that in 2005 one had to pay 10,000 NK won in order to be issued attendance confirmation from his/her working place. For another reference to similar practice, see: Chu Sŏng-ha, “Hyŏn-ch’al kot myŏnjoebu [Money is an excuse],” Tonga Ilbo, 25 January 2006, p. 3. In a described case a worker of the 8 February Vinalon Factory pays 15,000 won monthly in order not to show up for work and avoid meetings, including the saenghwal ch’onghwa.
50. There is a large number of journalist pieces and interviews which highlight this prominence of women in the emerging North Korean unofficial economy. So far, there is only one academic research which treats the issue at some length – an article by Yi Mi-kyŏng (Mi Kyung Lee) and Ku Su-mi (Soo Mi Ku), “Kyŏngje wigi ihu pakhan tosi yŏsŏng salm-gwa ŭisik: Ch’ŏngjin, Sinŭiju, Hyesan-ŭl chungsim-ŭro [The life and consciousness of the North Korean urban women after the economic crisis: on the example of Ch’ŏngjin, Sinŭiju and Hyesan cities],” Pukhan yŏngu hakhoe bo, 2004, pp.161-184. The article is based on the extensive interviews with North Korean defectors.
51. Ibid., p.171, footnote 32.
52. Ibid.
53. Yi Su-hyŏn, “Pukhan-ŭi anjŭn changsa [Market trade in North Korea],” Pukhan 12, 2002, pp.196-197.
54. See, for example, a vivid description of life in North Korea in the late 1998, made by the then recent defector and one-time market dealer: Kwon Hyŏk, Konan-ŭi haenggun [Arduous march] (Seoul: Chŏngdo ch’ulp’an, 1999).
55. The reference to “sam bu” can be frequently found in publications and stories by defectors. See, for example: Chu Sŏng-ha, “Pukhan ŏbu [North Korean fishermen], Tong’a Ilbo, January 28, 2006, 45; Pae Pyŏng-mun, “Puk kanbu, ŏbu, kwabu ‘sam bu’ga chal sara [In North, cadres, fishermen and widows live well],” Kyŏnghyang sinmun, 18 December, 1996, 26.
56. Chu Sŏng-ha, “Tallajinŭn chikŏp p’ungsokto [Changing employment landscape],” Tong’a Ilbo, July 7, 2005, 3.
57. Yi Kyo-kwan, “Pukhan-ŭi sin kwŏnlyŏkja-dŭl [The new powerful of North Korea],” Chugan Chosŏn 1758, 19 June 2003.
58. Pak Ho-kŭn, “Pyŏnhwahanŭn Puk: sijang kyŏngje-ŭi hwakdae pujakyŏng, sarinjŏk inp’ŭllye, pinbu kyŏkch’a simhwa [Changing North: the side effects of the market economy growth, murderous inflation and increasing gap between the rich and poor],” Segye Ilbo, 22 November 2004, 7. The figures come from the report of Chohŭn pŏs, a prominent Buddhist NGO which is remarkably well informed about the internal situation in North Korea.