Starving North Korea pleads for aid amid nuclear standoff
With millions of its people facing starvation, the world's
most isolated nation has made a rare entreaty, writes
Jonathan Watts from Pyongyang
Sunday February 9, 2003
The Observer
North Korea is appealing to the outside world for assistance
as aid workers and diplomats in Pyongyang warn that this
impoverished state is on the brink of a humanitarian
catastrophe.
In a rare direct entreaty to international public opinion,
the top government official responsible for disaster
prevention urged donors not to cut support because of the
country's ongoing nuclear stand-off with the US.
'Please let the world know of the needs of our country,' said
Yun Su-chang, head of the Flood Damage Rehabilitation
Committee. 'Some countries, such as the United States, are
trying to link food with politics. That is a flagrant
violation of humanitarian principles.
'Our people are trying to overcome their problems, but we
face a shortage of food. I sincerely hope that international
humanitarian assistance will continue.'
The appeal, made during an exclusive interview with The
Observer, is remarkable for a proudly defiant country that
would usually rather starve than try to elicit sympathy.
That it came through the media - rather than quietly behind
the scenes through the UN - underlines the desperate concern
of the North Korean government as international donations of
food have dried up since the start of the nuclear crisis.
North Korea, the world's most isolated nation, is stuck in an
Orwellian 1984. As far as the lives of the people in
Pyongyang are concerned, the Cold War never ended and
globalisation has passed them by completely. The country
retains a political system built around utter devotion to
the 'Great Leader' Kim Jong-il and a paranoid fear of the
outside world, particularly the US.
But isolation has come at an appalling price. Formerly one of
only two industrialised nations in Asia, North Korea has
steadily regressed into an economic basket case as natural
disasters, sanctions and calamitous policy decisions have
steadily deprived the nation of energy, both calories and
kilowatts.
Power has ebbed away faster in recent months because of the
nuclear crisis. America - usually its biggest donor - has not
offered a single grain of rice to Pyongyang in the four
months since it confronted the regime with evidence of a
uranium enrichment programme. Japan, an important provider in
the past, has given nothing for more than a year.
In Europe, which is still supplying maize, it is becoming
harder for governments to justify providing assistance to a
country that withdrew two months ago from the global treaty
to stop the spread of nuclear weapons.
The World Food Programme has been forced to axe support for
three million people and reduce rations for 3.2 million of
the most needy, including babies, orphans, lactating women
and the elderly. Cuts in the government's food distribution
system mean that school children must now get by on 300 grams
a day, compared with 500 grams in the past.
'Since November, the situation has steadily deteriorated. It
is now very dramatic, very depressing,' said Anahit Sadoyan
of the World Food Programme, which has been forced to close a
production line at a Pyongyang food processing factory
because donations of maize ran out. 'It is hurting the
children the most. They shouldn't suffer because of the
political situation. It is not their fault.'
Poverty is apparent even in Pyongyang. Although there are few
signs of malnutrition, electricity is in such short supply
that the government has closed the Children's Palace - one of
the centrepieces of national culture - because it cannot heat
the building.
The deprivation gets worse the further you get from the
capital. On the road to Shinchon, a town about an hour's
drive south of Pyongyang, cars are scarce but an almost
endless stream of farmers, soldiers and children walk along
the paddyfields.
Only one tractor was visible even though this is one of the
most important agricultural regions of North Korea. The
biggest vehicles were open-backed trucks, overflowing with
people. Some vehicles were powered by wood burners rather
than petrol.
The worst-hit areas are in the north and east, where The
Observer was denied access. 'The situation in the north-east
is worse than the Horn of Africa or Chechnya,' said one aid
worker. 'I have never seen children suffering so badly from
malnutrition. The growth of children has been stunted to such
a degree that 11-year-olds look like six-year-olds.
Generations of North Koreans will be mentally retarded.'
Although last autumn's crop was good compared with previous
years, it was still more than a million tonnes below the
minimum needs of the population of 22 million. With the lean
season beginning in April, the fear is that North Korea will
plunge back into the dark days of the late Nineties when
hundreds of thousands are believed to have died of
starvation.
Since that time, more than one in four of the population have
been fed by the World Food Programme - which has its biggest
project in North Korea. A nationwide health study, due to be
released within the week, is expected to show a 33 per cent
improvement in nutrition rates. But even with the gains, two
out of every five children remain malnourished.
The socialist economy is in a dire state, though no one knows
quite how bad because figures are either unreliable or
unreleased. In a sign of how desperate the situation has
become, the government introduced market-oriented reforms
last summer, but so far they appear only to have pushed up
prices.
True to the principles of Orwellian Newspeak, the darker the
situation becomes, the brighter the state-controlled media
reports the news.
Despite the fact that millions have been shivering in flats
with no heat and dim lights despite temperatures as low as
minus 21C (minus 6F), the Pyongyang Times recently ran a
report lauding the success of the power industry.
Unusually, though, government officials have admitted on
record to me that the situation is bleak. Oh Yong-il,
external director of the Economic Promotion Committee, said
shortages of electricity meant machine-tool factories were
only able to run at 60 to 70 per cent of capacity and the
furnaces at steel and iron works were not functioning.
'It is hurting people in their daily lives,' he said. 'Shops
and factories are not producing the things people need.'
Blaming the US for isolating North Korea, he said the cutting
of 500,000 tonnes of heavy oil a year was creating huge
problems around the Unggi power plant where the fuel was
used.
But in words that would have been sacrilegious a year ago, he
said the incentive of profits - one of the aims of the recent
reforms - was necessary.
'Contrary to before, people can earn profits,' he said. 'This
will inspire people to produce more because it is in their
self-interest.'
But this modernising chink in the country's socialist
ideology has been overwhelmed by the nuclear crisis, which
has taken the country back to the Orwellian mindset. Instead
of the looming humanitarian crisis, the nation is fixated on
the threat of a US attack. Even at the General Hospital of
Koryo Medicine in Pyongyang the doctors are preparing to
fight America, not malnutrition. 'If Kim Jong-il calls us,
I'll leave the hospital and fight in the army,' said Hyon
Chol, the deputy director. 'A lack of food and energy does
not really have an effect on our people's health,' he
insisted. 'We want help but we are not going to beg for
peace.'
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