North Korean police have been unable to halt the growing defacing of posters praising newly proclaimed heir Kim Jong Un. He has been nicknamed "piglet", as recent official photos show a very well fed young man, who looks like his father did during the Great Famine of the 1990s. Back then, daddy Kim Jong Il was conspicuously corpulent when millions of North Koreans were dying of starvation. As another major famine looms, the image reappears, in the form of the even chubbier younger Kim. These defacements are scary, as police have been ordered to be more energetic in catching the vandals, and to apply more vigorous punishment (a severe beating, followed by a trip, often one-way, to a labor camp[.]"Piglet." I thought I was cruel.
The North Korean elites are definitely getting nervous about their own people. They hope they can count on the senior officers and the special forces troops and secret police who are favored with privileges and food to keep them in power. But can the pampered elites count on the bulk of the army that doesn't get the extras and who have starving and disappeared family members back home to fight and kill for the elites if push comes to shove?
So when South Korea prepares to make efforts to point out to North Koreans how bad they have it up north (and that it doesn't have to be that way--it is only because of the plunderers and incompetents who rule them), the North Korean elites respond with the only tool they have left--threats of death:
North Korea on Friday threatened to attack sites in South Korea if Seoul carries out its threat to start cross-border propaganda broadcasts and leaflet launches.
The North's military renewed its earlier threats of a strike in a message to the South's armed forces, Pyongyang's official news agency reported.
The loudspeakers and other sites will face "a physical strike from our army" if the official propaganda campaign is launched, the North said.
It described comments by the South's defence minister about a possible resumption as "a declaration of war" and "grave military provocation".
The two sides reached a deal in 2004 to halt their cross-border government-level propaganda war. But the South made preparations to restart it after accusing the North of sinking one of its warships in March, a charge it denies.
Seoul's military printed hundreds of thousands of leaflets and installed loudspeakers in border areas.
Defence Minister Kim Tae-Young said last week the speakers would be switched on and the leaflets would be launched in response to any fresh cross-border provocation.
Yet despite the signs of fearless desperation by the people of North Korea and the fear of the regime over words from the south that could propel the newly fearless, the North Koreans continue to work the press:
North Korea may be struggling to feed its people, but there was no shortage of mouthwatering options on the menu at our guide's favorite restaurant: ostrich, duck and beef; scallops, crab and lobster; pancakes, stews, noodles and even spaghetti.
Even the kimchi — and normally I am not a fan of the spicy fermented cabbage that is Korea's most famous dish — was irresistible.
That meal was part of a remarkable whirlwind trip that AP photographer Vincent Yu and I took to Pyongyang, capital of one of the world's most hidden nations, for the 65th anniversary of the ruling Workers' Party.
Breaking away from the gaggle of foreign reporters allowed into the country for the festivities, we ate traditional North Korean fare for lunch. Afterward, we wandered along the scenic Taedong River, stopping to chat with families picnicking along its grassy, willow-lined banks.
Later, our guides had a surprise: a trip to an amusement park. Earlier, as we'd sped past in a car, I had squealed with delight and told them how much I'd love to see the fair.
It was well past midnight when we finally returned to our hotel, exhausted but elated. As we looked over his photos and recounted the day, Vincent shook his head and asked aloud: "Was it real?"
Wow. Only a university-trained "journalist" could wonder about that. This is a country that uses people as "pixels" for the amusement of their elites. No, it was not real. I mean, obviously, they saw what they saw. But it was all staged for them. If not in all the individuals involved, at least in choosing to go to the areas where less-than-ordinary people who have reason to laugh are allowed to enjoy luxuries not allowed to the starving masses reduced to sullen desperation that leads them to risk death for themselves and their families to deface a picture of Kim Jong Un. Do read the rest of the long love letter to Pyongyang. The journalists were taken to a lavish dinner and date, but the North Korean people were the ones screwed.
Can we generally trust the press without looking closely at what they write? You tell me after writing what Jean H. Lee concludes after the AP Seoul bureau chief's experience:
So, as Vincent asked repeatedly, was it real? Were we among the lucky few foreigners given the chance to experience what life is like for "real" North Koreans? Or was it a carefully choreographed performance put on for the benefit of visiting journalists?Wow. They make Friedman's China autocrat crush look feeble by comparison. We're into Matthews' leg tingle territory here.
In the end, we decided there was no way the encounters could have been staged: the stew bubbling on the portable gas cooker, the couple canoodling in the bushes, the screams and laughs that filled the night air around the Tilt-a-Whirl.
It may not have been what we expected in one of the world's last communist strongholds, but it was definitely real.
If all I had to go on was this AP article, I'd have no idea of what else is happening, as the other two articles tell us.
The situation in North Korea is desperate, whether you look at the signs of the people, the reactions of the rulers, or the efforts the rulers make to fool the outside press.
I mean, if you want to know the real situation.
