The Three Battles of Wanat Page 27

  Jean Lee, a former AP reporter who became the wire service’s bureau chief in Pyongyang in 2012, is Korean American and has spent a lot more time in the “hermit kingdom” than most western journalists. The only outside reporters allowed to actually live in Pyongyang are Russian and Chinese. After setting up the bureau, Lee began “visiting” the capital for three- to five-week stints. She would fly out for a week back in the United States or Seoul, escaping the strain of constant surveillance, and then return to the kingdom for another stay. So—unlike most western reporters, who see the country only on media junkets, where everything is carefully choreographed, what Lee calls “the spectacle and the theater”—she saw North Koreans in their daily lives, offstage: “the in-between moments,” she says. What she observed was not the slavish devotion required in public, but something close. She observed a very proud people determined to put their best foot forward for foreigners, a sturdy, complex, hardworking population, largely ignorant of the world outside their kingdom, and resigned to the difficulties of their own world. Humor ran deep. To convey their real feelings, many North Koreans employed wisecracks and facial expressions, a far richer resource than the official line. But Kim was the exception. No one jokes about the Supreme Leader.

  Lee won’t call such deference “reverence,” she says, because, “it’s a required behavior…. It’s highly illegal to criticize or deface anything related to the leader. So, I’m not talking about how people feel. I’m talking about how they’re required to behave. There are a lot of times where people—you can see those kinds of flickers in people’s faces where they want you to know that they have to say certain things, but very few North Koreans would be unwise enough to say anything openly critical about the leadership. They’re perfectly OK criticizing other elements of their society but not the leadership, so that’s kind of a steadfast rule. I think those who feel they can’t suppress that would be inclined to leave.”

  Lee was the first western journalist invited to attend a meeting of party leaders in Pyongyang in 2012. Kim had been in power for less than a year, and after seeing many propaganda images of him exuding youth and vitality (in sharp contrast to his late father) she was struck by the way he entered the hall.

  “He was walking like an old man, so it was really odd,” she said. “He can do things like bend down, and he obviously has the kind of flexibility of a young man, but [here] he was walking like an old man. It wasn’t like he was walking like he had difficulty walking. It was more like he had adopted a certain gait that was kind of self-conscious, kind of like the gait of authority. It’s striking because he is such a young man. So, that was one thing that really struck me. And of course you can’t help but notice how big he is in a place where you don’t see any obesity.”

  She was struck by another thing at this and other such meetings where she was given a chance to observe the country’s leadership closer up than anyone before. At Kim’s entrance, all those present leaped to their feet and began clapping vigorously—everyone except his uncle Jang Song Thaek. The brother of Kim II’s only sister, Jang was initially considered by many to be the real power in North Korea when the elder Kim died. This notion proved to be dramatically wrong, but from where Lee was sitting, it certainly appeared as though Jang had special status because he had the effrontery not to play along.

  “His uncle kind of sat in his seat and didn’t really get up,” she said. “He was very slow to get up until the very last minute. And then, [he] didn’t do the full clapping. He just kind of did a half clap. It was really striking because there was nobody else who would dare to do that.”

  This refusal to enthusiastically perform was interpreted by Lee, and by others, as a sign of Jang’s special status, the assumption being that he alone among the ranks of the faithful could get away with it. Clearly Jang thought so. It was a fatal error. In December 2013, the supposed (or perhaps would-be) power behind the throne was arrested, vigorously denounced, and shot. It was such a sudden and unexpected move that many North Korea–watchers anticipated shock waves within the regime. Surely one that powerful and that closely allied with Kim II would have legions of loyal comrades. There was bound to be fallout. Some predicted at least an uptick in high-level defections. Victor Cha, former director for Asian affairs at the U.S. National Security Council, told NBC News, “When you take out Jang, you’re not just taking out one person—you’re taking out scores if not hundreds of other people in the system. It’s got to have some ripple effect.”

  But there were no ripples. No whisper of internal dissent escaped Pyongyang. There were no high-level defectors.

  “The regime continues to enjoy mainstream support, which derives largely from the appeal of official myth,” writes Myers. “We have no reason to assume that the ruling elite does not subscribe to the same worldview as its citizens. Interinstitutional rivalries exist in Pyongyang as in every capital, but these do not derive from ideological disagreement.”

  Part of the national myth is that North Korea is in constant danger. The United States, Japan, and other world powers are poised to attack. In paintings and videos the nation is often symbolized by its rocky eastern shoreline, where great cliffs and boulders absorb blow after blow from a stormy sea. In the fanciful national story, Kim I single-handedly routed the Japanese and expelled them from the peninsula, and then fought off the invading armies of the United States. Kim II staved off the threatening enemy powers and steered the country through hard times. Kim III will someday steer it to a final victory, unifying all of Korea under his rule and asserting Korea’s place at the pinnacle of all nation-states. The world press inadvertently plays into the narrative. It has been obsessed with Kim’s every move ever since the young man inherited power three years ago. Virtually no information comes from the state, and, like nature, the media abhor a vacuum. Misinformation and manufactured stories generate headline after headline, TV specials, daily updates, and, most recently, even a goofy Hollywood movie starring James Franco and Seth Rogen. North Koreans who have access to international media—though not many do—cannot fail to appreciate the global obsession with their leader. The fact that Kim is cast as a villain, that he is reviled and lampooned, just confirms that the world is out to get them.

  On July 8, clad in slimming black, Kim led a stiff phalanx of generals and admirals and lesser party powers into the vast ceremonial Kumsusan Palace for an annual salute to the dynasty. A mighty multitude had assembled, and rose as one when the heir entered, front and center of the power procession, strutting like … Hey, what’s this? Kim was walking less like a deity than a man with a flaming bunion … or a sprained ankle … or whatever. The Marshal had a limp!

  This was followed by a brief period of silence. Kim vanished from the public stage. By September, world punditocracy was febrile with speculation: It spun. It speculated … all to the effect that Kim was a goner. He had been dumped. Serious evidence came in the form of Jang Jin Sung, a former North Korean propagandist (surely a solid source there), now living in China. The other sources were … well, there were no other sources, but the thing now had enough Internet traction to justify front-page stories in the more respectable press. The Washington Post, Huffington Post, the Daily Mail, the Washington Times, and even the venerable New York Times all reported that, while nobody actually knew anything, it was probably worth noting that Kim had not been seen for a few months or so, and that everyone was saying…. It was enough to make one long for the serenity of Pyongyang’s state-controlled press, which consistently reported what happened to be the truth. The Marshal, it seemed, had problem with his ankle.

  Kim reappeared with a cane in early fall and things settled down. The official story is that he had undergone a procedure to remove a cyst. Unlike the reports in western media, it had the ring of truth.

  4. A Great Dictator?

  Talk show comedians and the tabloid press may delight in mocking Kim, but many of those who watch him professionally are impressed.

  “I think he is a great dic
tator,” said Daniel Pinkston, a project director for the International Crisis Group, who studies North Korea closely. We spoke at a coffee shop near his office in Seoul in early October. “I do not like dictatorships,” he said, “but as far as being a dictator, what a dictator is supposed to do in that kind of system, given that system, and what type of person is needed to manage it, maintain it, and sustain it—he is a great dictator.”

  What are the things a dictator needs to be good at? You need to manage the system, the party structure, the military, the economy, and the security forces in such a way that your people feel empowered and remain loyal. This is done by adopting policies that bring prosperity not necessarily to all, but to enough people, by artfully elevating those most loyal and able, and by demoting the able but disloyal—sometimes radically. Threats to your power must be eliminated ruthlessly. A dictator needs to know how to present himself in public, and at this, Kim III already excels. He has a deep, rich voice which sounds commanding and reassuring.

  “I have noticed in my viewing of him, that he moves well as a politician,” said Richardson, who speaks from experience. “He is a lot better than his father. He smiles, goes and shakes people’s hands. He gives a better speech, better photographs. His father was very conservative; he did not move much, possibly because of his height. He was just not the garrulous type…. This man, when you look at him, the photographs, the newsreels, he moves well. He gives a good speech. When I was in North Korea about a year and a half ago, I heard his speech. Of course I did not understand it but the diction was good. He aroused people, not exceedingly well but it was a lot better than his father.”

  Of course, a great dictator must project a lot more than impressive voice and posture. He must be decisive, and project fear. In his first three years, Kim has removed the two men who posed the most serious risk to his rule. It is not too much of a stretch to assume that given Kim III’s youth, at least some of the senior leaders closest to Kim II might have expected an interregnum after his death, where one or more of them would be the de facto Supreme Leader. What is certainly true is that mere suspicion of such designs would have targeted them for elimination.

  The first to go was Marshal Ri Yong Ho, chief of staff of North Korea’s army and a member of the central presidium of the Workers Party. Ri had been close to Kim II. He had direct responsibility for protecting Pyongyang and, perhaps more important, the Kim family. He had been one of the stars of his generation. In July 2012, Kim III called an emergency meeting of the entire presidium and abruptly stripped Ri of his duties. It was the first sure sign that Kim planned to run the entire show himself, and would brook no challenge, even from the nation’s most senior leaders. If Kim III were a more careful or wiser leader, he might have simply removed Ri from power, along with the other top generals he has purged. He could easily have retired them or placed them in rubber-stamp positions, where he could, if he chose, consult them, use them as a source of independent counsel, given that their careers were finished and the influence of ambition and faction was gone. Ri vanished. He was reportedly under house arrest and later that year he was charged with being a “counterrevolutionary.” No one knows his ultimate fate for sure, but no one is expecting him back.

  The second threat was Uncle Jang, who, being a family member and a far more powerful figure than even Ri, was more emphatically dumped. On December 3, 2013, after all those lackluster displays of devotion in public, Jang was dismissed from his posts and arrested during a politboro meeting. The humiliation could not have been more public in Pyongyang; the event was broadcast on state television. It was also a sign that Kim intended to act with more flair in such matters than his father, who was content to quietly retire errant generals to rural estates. It reminded some of the old Soviet show trials or the flamboyant excesses of Saddam Hussein, who liked to get up onstage with a fat cigar before his assembled leadership and personally point out those who were to be taken from the hall and shot. Ten days later the regime announced that Jang had been “tried” by a special tribunal and promptly executed. While there have been rumors of Ri’s execution, there is little doubt about Jang’s. Kim was sending a message this time.

  “I think [Kim] is fully in control … and he runs a tight ship,” Pinkston said. “He is managing the structures [of state] very adeptly…. The actual micromanaging—going around seeing who is loyal, who is not, giving the orders, executing the orders, all of that stuff—the guy is, like, totally on top of it. And most people, I guess they are unwilling to accept that because this guy is, like, thirty-one years old…. Some people say that this thirty-year-old cannot do this, but you watch; he is doing it. People underestimate him at their own peril.”

  So, what exactly is Kim up to?

  One of the first things he did was to clean house in the military, replacing older leaders, loyal to his father, with younger men. Not only did this ensure that the military commanders were beholden to him; it infused the old Cold War–era ranks with more modern thinking and made them less resistant to change.

  He has initiated sweeping economic reforms. His father was leaning toward some of these in his later years, but the changes have been so aggressive it appears that the prime mover behind them is Kim himself. Most are designed to ground North Korea’s economy on money. This may seem an almost silly thing to say, since an economy is by definition about money. Except in North Korea, that is. Until fairly recent years, the only path to prosperity was ideological purity. Promotion in even the best of circumstances was a combination of ability and party approval. Status was strictly determined by the state. If you lived in a better apartment, drove a nicer car, were permitted to live in the relatively affluent districts of Pyongyang, that meant you had the approval of the regime. Increasingly, North Koreans can better their lot by earning more money, as is the case throughout the world. Managers of factories and shops have been given financial incentives to do better. Success means they can pay their workers and themselves more. Kim has pushed for the development of special economic zones in every province of the country, setting up internal competition and rewards, so that the fruits of success in one area no longer must be fully returned to the state. It is part of a general effort to decentralize economic power.

  This is in the industrial sector. Kim has also made agricultural reforms that have proved surprisingly effective.

  “He decided to do what his father was deadly afraid of doing,” said Lankov. “He allowed farmers … to keep part of the harvest. Farmers are not working now as, essentially, slaves on a plantation. They work for themselves, and they work much better. That was his policy. His father did not dare to do it. The policy was never made public. It’s still classified. The next stage, I hope, will be allowing farmers to plant their own crops [completely]. They allowed farmers to work at the same part of the field. Technically, the field is still state property, but as a farming family you can register yourself as a ‘production team.’ And you will be working on the same field for a few years in a row. And you keep 30 percent of the harvest for yourself. And this year, according to unconfirmed reports, it will be between 40 and 60 percent that will go to the farmers. So they are not slaves anymore; they are sharecroppers.”

  Famine and disaster generate headlines, while steady improvement in a country’s farm output generates yawns. With no dramatic announcement of the change in policy, few have noticed the turnaround, but in 2013, according to the UN, for the first time in twenty-five years North Korea harvested enough food to feed its population. In the spring of 2014, it had a drought, which produced the usual raft of alarmist predictions worldwide, but none of them have proved true. Initial reports are that the country’s annual harvest will prove to be surprisingly good. Malnutrition remains a problem in the country, with an estimated 84 percent of households having “borderline or poor food consumption,” according to the UN Food and Agricultural Organization, but most indicators show that the regime is gaining ground on hunger.

  Even though the people have fuller
bellies and money to spend, Kim has done nothing to interfere with North Korea’s markets, all of them technically illegal. His father acquiesced in the existence of black marketeering when the population was starving in the 1990s, but oscillated as the famine eased, sometimes treating illicit merchants as criminals and sometimes tolerating them, as need dictated. It was a fairly reliable pattern. When hardships eased, the state cracked down. Kim has left the black markets alone even in these years of relative prosperity. At this point the markets represent a substantial part of the nation’s economy, which has seen a boom in consumer goods, mostly imported from China. Visitors to Pyongyang report large numbers of cell phones in use, more cars and trucks moving on the streets, more colorful fashions worn by the women. Kim’s wife has become something of a style leader, appearing in public wearing high heels and sleek dresses that reflect tastes in booming China. These are changes that just a few years ago would have been unthinkable, so it is reasonable to assume that they have not been universally welcomed among the state’s elite.