4.4 Findings
4.4.2 Working-class heroes
In their own words, the North Korean defectors I spoke with describesongbunas a hered- itary caste system that works to maintain the status of the ruling elite by means of so- cioeconomic favoritism. Seung Ho, a 58-year-old biology researcher from Hyesan, North Korea, says that “North Korea’ssongbunsystem was like the feudal system before the era of capitalism.” Classes are divided by occupation and children are unable to alter their own status. Theirsongbundetermines their occupation and their parents’ occupation determines theirsongbun. This chicken-and-egg determinant of where one stands in North Korea’s so- cial hierarchy allows the state to funnel plum jobs such as positions in the Korean Workers’
Party, the military, civil service, and other desirable occupations to the descendants of those who fought against the Japanese during the period of colonization between 1910-1945 and against South Korea and the US-led UN forces during the Korean War.
4Interview with “Seung Ho.”
5Interview with “Jun Ho.”
The emphasis on the connection between songbun and occupation cannot be under- stated. The first response many of the interviewees gave when asked about songbun was that it is a social status based on the occupation of one’s parents. This was often followed with an explanation that a person’ssongbun in turn determined their occupation. “A good songbun can lead to a bright future with good jobs, but in my case I didn’t have such a songbunso my job was to work as part of the lowest class,” says Su Kyeong, a 33-year-old woman from Hoery˘ong. She goes on to say that her parents worked on a farm and explains that “there was a rule by the government that if your parents worked on farms, then you can only do farm work and will not be allowed to choose other jobs. There was no way out. There were no options.” Tae-young, a 38-year-old man from Musan, North Korea, echoes this sentiment. “If my family’ssongbun is not good, that also affects my career. If my family has political problems, then I cannot get a good job or go to a good school.” He makes a point to emphasize “We [North Koreans] don’t have a right to choose our jobs; the government dictates where people work.”
Many accept this arrangement as if it were their “fate,” resigning themselves to the fact that they have no choice with regards to their professional status. For example, Ji Hye, a 31- year-old woman also from Hoery˘ong in the northeastern part of North Korea, worked in the Aoji coal mine town. “The reason I worked there was because my maternal grandfather was a prisoner of war. So, my parents worked there and I ended up working there without any choice.” She says this matter-of-factly with a casual expression on her face. The implication that her grandfather having fought against North Korea means that his progeny can never work as anything other than hard laborers does not strike her as anything other than the norm in North Korea.
Employment difficulties in North Korea often push people to cross the border into China, whether it be for the purposes of permanently defecting or to earn money by either working in China or smuggling goods back and forth between the two countries. Lit-up, nighttime skylines of border towns across the Tumen and Yalu Rivers and stories from
family members living abroad entice many un- and underemployed North Koreans to cross over out of financial desperation. Many of those I spoke with commented that their families were involved with smuggling. Jun Ho ultimately joined his mother and brother in China after being unable to find work when he returned home following his mandatory military service. Though he is a college graduate and completed his tour of duty without incident, he was blacklisted by the state due to the fact that his mother and brother had defected. He tells me his brother and mother fled after attracting attention from local authorities for their smuggling activities. “Smuggling is life for those people,” he exclaims, claiming smuggling is the only way people in North Korea can make ends meet. He adds that his mother and brother ultimately left because they were not allowed to make money to survive.
Following the collapse of the Soviet Union and market reforms in China, North Korea stopped receiving subsidized imports of fuel. This led to a vicious, self-enforcing cycle of economic contraction for North Korea. Without fuel, North Korea was unable to keep its factories open which lead to a drastic decline in exports. Without exports, North Korea struggle to earn hard currency, causing fuel imports to plummet even further (Demick, 2010). This lead to a chronic shortage of electricity in North Korea which still exists to this day. Among other consequences the lack of electricity resulted in many, if not most, factories becoming idle and thus unable to pay wages to their workers, even though the state still required workers to report to their assigned jobs.
A popular solution to the sudden lack of employment opportunities for the masses living near the Chinese border was to smuggle in goods such as food and medicine for trade or personal consumption. More than a handful of the interview participants discussed the smuggling activities their families engaged in to make ends meet. “Illegal smuggling is the only way to make good money within North Korea,” says Ji Hye, the former Aoji coal miner. This is a common attitude across interviewees, particularly the younger ones. “There are not many ways to make money or take care of your family in North Korea,” Yoon Gi, a 30-year-old man who escaped when he was 14, tells me. He goes on to say that in Hyesan,
where he is from, a lot of people smuggle goods between North Korea and China and that if his mother had not gone to China, she would not have been able to take care of her family.
Some of the North Korean refugees I spoke with indicated their families were well off financially due to their family’s enterprises involving smuggling. Bo Kyoung, a 25-year-old woman from Chongjin, for example, stresses her family was not poor. She calls her mother a successful businesswoman who smuggled furniture, clothes, food, candy, and other es- sentials back and forth between North Korea and China. She shows me pictures from her childhood where she is dressed in noticeably bright colors, indicative of the success of her mother’s smuggling. In fact, her mother’s operations were so successful that her fam- ily had two houses and lived comfortably with a washing machine, refrigerator, TV, CD player, home phones, and cell phones. while these may be common appliances found in households throughout most of the rest of the world, any one of these items is considered a luxury in North Korea, let alone all of them!
Yet, even with the material comfort smuggling can bring, it still leaves those forced to engage in such endeavors in precarious circumstances. Successful smuggling tends to draw the attention of authorities. “It’s still uncomfortable to live in North Korea even if you are rich and have money. The government is always targeting you,” says Bo Kyoung. Hye Jin, a 21-year-old woman from Hyesan, indicates her family experienced similar scrutiny. Her mother operated a small store out of which they sold items smuggled in from China. The consequences associated with smuggling can be severe and often involve beatings, torture, and forced labor in prison camps. Such punishments encouraged many of the individuals I interviewed whose families were engaged in smuggling to flee, including Bo Kyoung whose mother spent four years in prison for smuggling clothes and snacks. After her mother was released, the two of them crossed the border into China - this time for the last time.