Although the education system up through high school and the military still produced fanatics, Ko added, "the 2229 group is a threat to Kim Jong-il because they know only his [poor] rule. The 30s-to-50s group still has nostalgia for the Kim Il-sung days, which they can remember. There's so much reform all over the world. The young ones hear the news and look for a change in North Korea, too. In the meantime the regime is emphasizing reeducation of the youngsters regarding ideals. It fears they are caught up in bourgeois ideas and think that poses a great threat."

There was considerable evidence during the period of that first nuclear crisis that the Kims, father and son, were afflicted with a serious case of the jitters. According to Lt. Lim Yong-son, Kim Jong-il early in 1991 ordered State Security political officials to be "owl-eyed" and to step up regulation, in order to preserve the regime. "When selecting party members, diligence and loyalty had been the most important criteria but that changed to family background," Lim said. "In the past about 80 percent of KPA members had been able to enter the party, but now only around 10 percent get in."

In 1992, Lim said, "Kim Jong-il issued another order, number 0027, to all soldiers in the People's Army, saying we must increase our struggle against the nonsocialist forces and build a revolutionist and belligerent state.

In the Ministry of the People's Armed Forces they increased the State Security presence and changed the structure some. All leaders in the army especially those known to be political dissidents and those who had taken bribes, were subjected to intensified telephone bugging. It was the same on our base. I heard this from the person in charge of the communication department. General officers were bugged. Starting in October 1992, any army officer against whom there was evidence of opposition to the regime, bribery or improper use of government property-was expelled. I guess that was because of what had happened in the eastern European countries. Kim Jong-il feared outside influences and wanted to strengthen the regime."20 Kang Myong-do, son-in-law of Prime Minister Kang Song-san, recalled that the fearful atmosphere affected members of the elite in general. "People would always get together and ask, 'Can North Korea survive this year? Should we defect to Europe or the United States?' In 1992 and 1993, the leaders' apprehension was more severe than South Koreans thought. They became more distressed when East Germany, Hungary and the Soviet Union collapsed. The biggest shock-was the collapse of the Soviet Union. The worst year was 1993. The harvest was bad and there wasn't enough food. As people became distressed, lots of them secretly prepared to defect. They hoped to get their children out first, in foreign study programs. Also, they acc.u.mulated lots of dollars secretly. Even Kim Jong-il was sort of scared. He has special armed teams around him, a Swiss bank account with maybe a couple of billion dollars. He appointed an honor guard in case of coup d'etat and kept them armed even as he prepared for exile in that contingency. Near Pyongyang he has a special airstrip with planes kept in case he needs to make a getaway."

Former ideology chief Hw.a.n.g Jang-yop elaborated on the facilities for a top-level escape: "To guarantee secrecy of the Great Leader's daily activities as well as his personal safety in times of-war, there is a-whole network of underground tunnels in Pyongyang that run deeper than the sub-way" which is 80 to 100 meters deep. "Those underground tunnels are connected all the way to Mount Jamo in Sunchon, South Pyongan province," about 25 miles from downtown Pyongyang. On that mountain, Hw.a.n.g said, "there is not only a royal villa but also an airport. The North Korean leaders claim that they built the royal villa there because the air at 600 meters above sea level was ideal for the Great Leader's health, but considering that the place is accessible through the underground tunnels, it was probably built with an emergency escape route in mind."21 According to Kang Myong-do, North Korean members of the elite "felt a lot of tension and fear in May 1993 when Secretary of Defense William Perry talked about bombing Yongbyon. Kim Jong-il could not even go out. He stayed in his office. All Central Committee members were wearing military uniforms and carrying guns. From outside, North Korea seemed very confident, talking of full-scale war. But the ruling cla.s.s in Pyongyang was really apprehensive of a U.S. attack, even though I believe North Korea possesses nuclear weapons-five nuclear missiles. This I heard from the State Security person in charge of political affairs at the Yongbyong nuclear facility. I see no reason why he would have lied to me." Kang said a number of Russian specialists, freelancing for lack of remunerative work at home, "were working with the People's Army on nuclear weapons. In August of 1993, Moscow asked that they be sent back. We had to send fifteen back. The person in charge of Russian scientists was a friend of mine. They had come of their own free will, but Russia requested their repatriation."

As an indirect result of all the tension, Kim Jong-il seriously injured himself in a fall from a horse, Kang said. "In 1993, Kim Jong-il was really edgy due to the NPT crisis. He had no time to relax. He liked untamed horses. Finally in September he went riding but he fell, injuring his head and arms and breaking all his teeth. All his teeth now are false. He brought a famous dentist from France to make them."22 Colonel Ed Logan was worried early in 1994 as he pondered, from retirement in Alabama, the prospect that the United States would refight the Korean War. "Thank G.o.d we are militarily a little better positioned than in June 1950," he told me. "However, it is difficult to predict what happens to casualty count when a million ground troops engage in face-to-face combat with one side not accountable to anyone for the number of casualties. You can fly over and drop bombs. You can sail and control the seas. But actual control of real estate is just forward of the bayonet carried by the infantry soldier."23 By the spring of 1994, as a Fulbright fellow in Seoul, I had interviewed enough recent defectors to apprehend the widespread readiness of North Koreans to fight and get it over with. The Kims, requiring tension for their survival, were keeping their people on a dangerous edge, primed for war but not yet actually fighting. The North Korean military was a gigantic, c.o.c.ked weapon. Who could know how and when it might go off? The tendency of many in Washington to try to isolate North Korea even further seemed to me dangerous under the circ.u.mstances.

I also had learned from defectors that, despite the regime's Big Brother surveillance and control, some people had gotten hold of forbidden shortwave receivers and begun listening to foreign broadcasts. Ordinary North Korean radio listeners had long been limited by available equipment to a single government medium-band frequency. The U.S. government's Voice of America was accessible to the small group of North Koreans allowed to hear short--wave broadcasts-that is, trusted members of the leadership cla.s.s whose work absolutely required familiarity with events abroad. But reports said that in January 1993 the regime had begun jamming the transmissions of VOA.24 Recall that, ironically, some members of the country's elite had become regular VOA listeners-even fans. Recall that, ironically, some members of the country's elite had become regular VOA listeners-even fans. 25 25In Pyongyang during our 1992 visit one official astonished the veteran VOA Asia correspondent Ed Con-ley26 by giving an imitation, near-perfect in intonation, cadences and pauses, of Conley's trademark signoff: "Edward Conley ... Voice of America ... Tokyo." The North Korean said he had been a Conley fan for years. It was not clear whether the government specifically wished to deprive such elite officials of the VOA news source. by giving an imitation, near-perfect in intonation, cadences and pauses, of Conley's trademark signoff: "Edward Conley ... Voice of America ... Tokyo." The North Korean said he had been a Conley fan for years. It was not clear whether the government specifically wished to deprive such elite officials of the VOA news source.27 In any case, instead of isolating North Korea further, I thought that what was needed was a way to break through the regime's lock on information and help North Koreans become aware of reality outside their country. I saw in then-current efforts in Washington to start Radio Free Asia an excellent vehicle for doing just that-if those in charge of RFA would make sure its broadcasts went out not merely on short-wave frequencies but also on medium wave, also known as AM, which my research showed far more North Koreans equipped to receive.

I wrote up my findings in a policy paper and with the help of some friends put it into the hands of the top Washington officials making policy on Korean and RFA matters, including the secretary of state and the national security advisor. They sent thank-you notes. One high-level U.S. official concerned with Korean issues told me my paper contained new and important information. He was struck by my use of defector testimony, he said, since U.S. officials had long a.s.sumed defectors were of little value. It was time to rea.s.sess that notion in view of-what I had learned, he said.

More than eight years later I met that official again. He was still deeply involved with issues involving North Korea. If, as promised, he had rea.s.sessed his view of defector testimony, however, the rea.s.sessment had not changed his mind. He obviously did not recall our earlier conversation and told me he had little use for what defectors said. Radio Free Asia by that time had been broadcasting in the Korean language for years-but only over short wave frequencies. It was not until 2003 that the organization finally managed to acquire facilities in a neighboring country to broadcast to North Koreans over AM frequencies.

It was former President Jimmy Carter who managed to cut through the mutual suspicions and fears, finding a temporary compromise resolution of the standoff over nuclear weapons. As both sides contemplated going to war momentarily, Carter accepted an invitation to visit Kim Il-sung in Pyongyang. There he won from Kim an agreement to freeze North Korea's nuclear program in exchange for resumption of dialogue with Washington.

At a June 18, 1994, press conference in Seoul, which I attended, Carter said that Kim had conveyed through him two requests to Washington. First, he wanted the United States to help Pyongyang replace its current nuclear power technology-with a more modern technology-one that would not produce large quant.i.ties of plutonium as a byproduct. Second, he wanted official a.s.surances that neither the United States nor any other outside forces would attack North Korea.

Although Carter had informed the Clinton Administration about his talks with Kim, he was seen in the White House as something of a freelancer. There were some ruffled feathers. However, Washington signaled that it was prepared to talk. The threat of immediate war receded.28 One measure of how serious a possibility war had become in the minds of the leaders: Hw.a.n.g Jang-yop reported that "because Kim Il-sung's statue must not be damaged even in times of war, the recently-made statues are mostly knockdown style, so that the statues can be easily and safely moved underground in times of emergency. All Kim Il-sung statues are guarded round the clock by armed soldiers."29

TWENTY-NINE.

Without You There Is No Country In a ruined country neither the land nor the people can remain at peace. Under the roofs of houses in a ruined country even the traitors who live in luxury as a re-ward for betraying their country will not be able to sleep in peace. Even though they are alive, the people are worse than gutter dogs, and even if the mountains and rivers remain the same, they will not retain their beauty.-KIM IL-SUNG Writing those words in the memoirs that he began publishing in 1992,1 Kim Il-sung meant to contrast the horrors of j.a.panese colonial rule with the wonders achieved during his rule of nearly half a century. The main ruination brought by colonialism, in his view, was to national dignity. But by the time of his death in 1994 it would have been clear to almost any reader of his words that the harsh description applied, in material even if not in nationalistic terms, to the North Korea that he had created. Kim Il-sung meant to contrast the horrors of j.a.panese colonial rule with the wonders achieved during his rule of nearly half a century. The main ruination brought by colonialism, in his view, was to national dignity. But by the time of his death in 1994 it would have been clear to almost any reader of his words that the harsh description applied, in material even if not in nationalistic terms, to the North Korea that he had created.

Indeed Kim Il-sung himself seems to have begun in the final three years of his life to contemplate some new approaches to dealing with his country's immense problems.

Yoshimi Tanaka was one of nine j.a.panese Red Army terrorists who hijacked a j.a.pan Airlines jumbo jet in March 1970 and flew to North Korea. Tanaka ran afoul of the law again in 1996. He was arrested on the Cambodia-Vietnam border and whisked to Thailand to face charges that he had been part of a plot there to cash counterfeit $100 bills, hard-to-detect "Super-K" forgeries produced by North Korea's ruling party as part of its drive to obtain foreign currency. He spent almost three and a half years in a Thai jail, and then, in 1999, he was about to be extradited to j.a.pan, where he could expect further prison time. At that point he spoke with an interviewer for the j.a.panese weekly Gendai, Gendai, saying: "I now recollect my life in Pyongyang with a warm heart." Tanaka related that he had lived amid greenery in a quiet section of Pyongyang, along the Taedong River. About twenty North Koreans had been a.s.signed by the state to work at the residences of the j.a.panese Red Army members and some Ecuadorian guerrillas who lived next door. The helpers "were there to manage the waterworks and boilers, transport coal and propane gas, secure foods and daily necessities and repair our Mercedes Benz cars." saying: "I now recollect my life in Pyongyang with a warm heart." Tanaka related that he had lived amid greenery in a quiet section of Pyongyang, along the Taedong River. About twenty North Koreans had been a.s.signed by the state to work at the residences of the j.a.panese Red Army members and some Ecuadorian guerrillas who lived next door. The helpers "were there to manage the waterworks and boilers, transport coal and propane gas, secure foods and daily necessities and repair our Mercedes Benz cars."

The interviewer took that as his cue to observe: "You seem to have enjoyed a higher living standard than those of ordinary citizens." Tanaka acknowledged that some people had disparaged the ex-terrorists' circ.u.mstances as "life within a palace." But he himself had no complaint on that score. "I think the president"-Kim Il-sung-"simply wanted to treat us as foreigners." At that point Tanaka acknowledged that, living in an affluent residential area that was something of a coc.o.o.n, isolated from most North Koreans, he "did not know what the ordinary life in the republic was. So I cannot tell whether I lived a luxurious life or not." He added, "As to the issue of hunger, as well, I really do not know about it."

Tanaka's comments ring a bell. There is evidence that Kim Il-sung's vastly more splendid isolation in real palaces-combined with the efforts of underlings to report only good news and expose him to Potemkin villages that oozed fake prosperity-kept the Great Leader from realizing the full extent of his people's plight.

There is other evidence, however, that even on some occasions when Kim did know what was really happening he was having such a good time as Great Leader that he didn't want to inconvenience himself in order to deal with such mundane matters. Former ideology chief Hw.a.n.g Jang-yop told of "an incident that occurred during the time when electricity supply was so poor that there were frequent blackouts even in Pyongyang." Hw.a.n.g gave no date for the incident, but power outages in Pyongyang were reported from the 1980s. "During a meeting of the party Central Committee chaired by Kim Il-sung, he called the minister of electric power to account for the inconvenience he had been experiencing recently while watching movies due to voltage drops.

The ever-conscientious minister stood up to reply: 'Currently there is not enough electric power to meet the requirements of the factories. Because of the heavy load in transmission to the factories, the voltage of electricity supplied to Pyongyang tends to drop.' Kim Il-sung responded "with, 'Then why can't you adjust the power supply transmitted to factories and allocate more to Pyongyang?' When the Minister explained, 'That would stop operations in a lot of factories,' Kim Il-sung cut him off and ordered, 'I don't care if all the factories in the country stop production. Just send enough electricity to Pyongyang.'"2 Probably it is unnecessary to choose between the image of an unknowing Kim and Hw.a.n.g's harsh portrait of a knowing but uncaring Kim. It should not be surprising that he behaved on occasion like the despot that he was. Absolute power does, after all, corrupt absolutely. But it appears that his knowledge was in fact imperfect for quite a long time up until the early 1990s.

Statesmen approaching death-even the most vicious tyrants among them-look to their reputations, their places in history. Kim Il-sung was no exception. "Just as in the past, I still feel nowadays the greatest pride and joy in enjoying the love of the people," he wrote in his memoirs. "I consider this the true meaning of life. Only those who understand this true meaning can be the genuine sons and faithful servants of the people.3 Kim wrote-as if-writing it could make it true-that he would be leaving behind a "revolution progressing triumphantly and our country prospering, with all the people singing its praises.4 The people indeed had no choice but to sing the revolution's praises, and Kim's. But conditions had reached the point where no one could ignore the stark evidence that the country was descending deeper and deeper into poverty and hunger. The people indeed had no choice but to sing the revolution's praises, and Kim's. But conditions had reached the point where no one could ignore the stark evidence that the country was descending deeper and deeper into poverty and hunger.

Economic conditions only grew worse in the early 1990s. Food distribution became increasingly irregular, with much smaller quant.i.ties of inferior grains such as millet subst.i.tuted for the usual rice rations. People survived by using their cash savings to buy grain in the private sector-especially in a black market dealing in grain that had been held back illegally from collective-farm harvests. (This form of corruption had taken hold by the mid-1980s.) Beef, the Korean meat of choice, had become a once-a-year delicacy for most North Koreans. More than 50 percent of manufacturing had been idled due to shortages, and the workers who showed up had nothing to occupy them but cleaning the facilities. Even new factories built in the late 1980s were not operating. A largely military work force built an immense factory complex at Sunchon to make the synthetic fabric vinalon; it had its opening ceremony in 1991, but could not go into production. Supplying the clothing needs of the populace had been one of the prides of the Kim Il-sung regime, but now people's clothing was growing shabby.5 Word certainly was getting back to substantial numbers of North Koreans from relatives and others who had traveled or lived abroad that life in South Korea and the West-and even in China--was richer. Getting caught saying so brought a one-month sentence in a reeducation camp.6 The economy could hardly improve if the regime's nuclear gamble scared off anyone considering significant investment from outside. No doubt it was significant that the government had been at pains to patch even tiny holes in the tight lid it kept on information from outside. Reports told of a crackdown on contact even with Chinese. The economy could hardly improve if the regime's nuclear gamble scared off anyone considering significant investment from outside. No doubt it was significant that the government had been at pains to patch even tiny holes in the tight lid it kept on information from outside. Reports told of a crackdown on contact even with Chinese.7 What was the need for all the frantic unity campaigns and rallies pledging loyalty to Kim Jong-il if there was not a growing recognition of a split in interests between the ruling pair and other groups of North Koreans? In particular, we now know, some people in the elite-civilian and military alike- wished that they were permitted to reform the system enough to preserve their status. That is not to say there were fully developed factions in high places in North Korea. Factions could not flourish for want of strong leaders who had not yet been purged. Nevertheless, some influential members of the elite possessed survival skills and were more amenable to change than some of their colleagues and they did engage in power struggles.

The record of"change" under the Kims could only dismay such people: In the 1970s, the North had begun to lag behind South Korea, but had rejected major change. In the 1980s, the economy had remained stagnant and the ideology ofegalitarianism and altruism had started to ring hollow to North Koreans. Reform had been the watchword in other communist countries, but Pyongyang had redoubled its commitment to its hard-line ideology. Now it was the 1990s and European communism was dead, while in North Korea the stench offailure had become almost overpowering.

Experience had shown how difficult it was for North Korea to change while the Kims remained in power. Kim Il-sung, his longevity, his identification with the system and the lies on which he built his personality cult seemed to stand in the way of even Chinese-style reforms. The regime feared that reform of the system would imply criticism of Kim Il-sung. Opening the country to foreign ideas and information would admit views critical of Kim Il-sung. But clearly the Great Leader could not be seen to have told or condoned lies, behaved brutally toward his subjects or made mistakes. Therefore, the regime had viewed opening and fundamental reform as out of the question. Limited to halfway measures, the ruling cla.s.s had been helpless to take the serious steps many believed were needed to prolong their rule-as, for example, Chinese economic reformers under Deng Xiaoping had been able to extend Communist Party rule. With Kim Il-sung and son occupying the status of permanent royalty, their more expendable subordinates in the bureaucracy felt the pressure from above and below to perform-or, barring that, to find someone else to blame for the system's failures.

If there ever had been a possible way out of this historical bind for Kim Il-sung since the time it became apparent his system was losing the race, that may have been somehow to recreate himself. Could he remake his image through positive tactics such as replacing lies with truth or through destructive tactics such as blaming subordinates and evil advisers for the excesses of his system? If he could do that, then maybe, just maybe, he could permit his technocrats to go for something resembling a Chinese-style economic reform- while leaving the political system and leadership relatively unchanged for the time being. Like Mao Zedong, then, he could retain his place in history as a towering patriotic figure and the father of the republic. Evidence suggests that something like that actually occurred to Kim and that he made a beginning in that direction.

Kim's memoirs were one indication that an image makeover was under way The first two volumes, covering the period from his birth in 1912 until early 1933, nearly twenty-one years, went on sale in Pyongyang during his birthday celebration in 1992. Those turned out to be a partially revisionist work containing a number of attempts to distance Kim from earlier fabrications and embellishments and lies by commission and omission, as well as from some of the most widely condemned aspects of his system.8 An example of distancing himself from old lies: Kim had been a legitimate hero of the anti-j.a.panese struggle of the 1930s-but only one of a number of heroes.9 To justify a personality cult, however, he had to outshine the others vastly. For his greater glory Pyongyang over the decades had downgraded or deleted the roles of others involved in the struggle-not only fellow Koreans but Chinese and the agents of the Soviet Union as well. In the memoirs, however, Kim acknowledged that he had worked as a cadre of a Chinese Communist Party organization and fought in a "joint struggle" with Chinese forces. He recalled by name many previously ignored comrades, including Korean and Chinese guerrilla leaders. And he revealed that he had accepted appointment by representatives of Moscow's Communist International as a youth organizer in Manchuria's Eastern Jilin Province in 1930. To justify a personality cult, however, he had to outshine the others vastly. For his greater glory Pyongyang over the decades had downgraded or deleted the roles of others involved in the struggle-not only fellow Koreans but Chinese and the agents of the Soviet Union as well. In the memoirs, however, Kim acknowledged that he had worked as a cadre of a Chinese Communist Party organization and fought in a "joint struggle" with Chinese forces. He recalled by name many previously ignored comrades, including Korean and Chinese guerrilla leaders. And he revealed that he had accepted appointment by representatives of Moscow's Communist International as a youth organizer in Manchuria's Eastern Jilin Province in 1930.

Besides those modest efforts to respond to outside challenges regarding his historical record, Kim also tried to distort that record further. In his new incarnation as revealed in the memoirs he miraculously appeared, for example, as a lifelong, staunch opponent of discrimination against people on account of their cla.s.s or ideological background. It would be hard to banish the suspicion that Kim's self-portrayal as the soul of tolerance was designed to shift the blame for his police state. Some of his claims to having uttered pro-tolerance views can be interpreted as almost a plea for Koreans of subsequent generations to honor him and his anti-j.a.panese guerrillas, and treat their descen-dents well, even if the communist system should be tossed on the rubbish heap of history. Thus, he complained that, after liberation, some communists had re- jected people with other ideologies, including the non-communist nationalist independence fighters. Kim said he admonished such "narrow-minded" people: "Even if we are in power, we communists must not fail to appreciate our patriotic seniors. The trend of thought differs from age to age; then why do you ostracize them, guard against them and avoid them? Are they guilty for fighting for Korea's independence at the risk of their lives when others were living with their families in warm houses, eating hot rice?"10 Beyond the pure public relations effort that his memoirs represented, there is evidence that Kim also concluded he could risk-and his legacy might gain from-some significant substantive changes of policy. After all, the regime's grip was so tight that hardly anyone thought it would collapse while Kim Il-sung was alive. Most foreign and South Korean scholars ruled out a Ceaucescu scenario for Kim. Partly due to brain-washing but also because he was seen as a genuine nationalist hero, his subjects' personal loyalty to their Respected and Beloved Great Leader remained "too great for them to butcher him like a pig," one American professor remarked. Indeed, since they loved Kim Il-sung so much, it seemed he might be able to tell them he had decided the world was not yet ready for North Korea's exalted version of socialism. (Recall that it took anti-communist zealot and longtime China-basher Richard Nixon to establish U.S. relations with Mainland China.) Wouldn't North Koreans gratefully accept whatever Kim Il-sung proposed as an imperfect interim system?

In the end, while he did not propose a new system, he did seek a shift in emphasis within the old system. According to defector Kang Myong-do, the event triggering Kim's belated efforts to change policy occurred in April of 1992-coincidentally the month I was in the country for the Tumen River conference. "Every morning when Kim Il-sung awoke, he liked to look at the Pyongyang skyline to see the chimneys of the power plants," Kang told reporters for Seoul's JoongAng Ilbo. JoongAng Ilbo. "In April 1992, Kim Il-sung was really angry because smoke was coming from only two of the smokestacks. The reason, he found after investigation, was that the Anju mines were not supplying coal. So Kim Il-sung became really curious. The reports claimed 120 percent overproduction compared with the planned goal. Kim secretly sent to the mines someone who found that the miners had nothing to eat. 'How can we work?' they asked. They were supposed to get 1,100 grams of rice, 200 grams of meat, 100 grams of corn oil per day. But for a week they had eaten only salt soup. It shows how little Kim Il-sung knew. It was the first time he realized the people were not getting their rations. He was surprised." "In April 1992, Kim Il-sung was really angry because smoke was coming from only two of the smokestacks. The reason, he found after investigation, was that the Anju mines were not supplying coal. So Kim Il-sung became really curious. The reports claimed 120 percent overproduction compared with the planned goal. Kim secretly sent to the mines someone who found that the miners had nothing to eat. 'How can we work?' they asked. They were supposed to get 1,100 grams of rice, 200 grams of meat, 100 grams of corn oil per day. But for a week they had eaten only salt soup. It shows how little Kim Il-sung knew. It was the first time he realized the people were not getting their rations. He was surprised."11 Kim pursued the matter and received an accurate report on horribly grim conditions in mountainous North Hamgyong province, which adjoins the Chinese and Russian borders in the northeastern part of the country.

North Hamgyong, throughout North Korea's economic decline, suffered more than most other provinces. (I suspect a census of refugees who were desperate enough to flee to China would show that a majority of them hailed from North Hamgyong.) Kang Myong-do told one interviewer that his father-in-law, Kang Song-san, then the governor of that province, had leveled with the president. Shocked into action, the semi-retired Kim re-involved himself in domestic issues, author Don Oberdorfer relates. Kang Song-san, who had held the prime ministerial portfolio earlier, was brought back in the same capacity that year. Meetings on economic policy the following year led to a dramatic admission at the end of 1993 that the country was in trouble economically. The regime would move to new policies de-emphasizing heavy industry in favor of activities that would more directly improve the people's livelihood.12 In the meantime, the standoff with the United States continued. Kim Jong-il was busy consolidating his position with the military-often at the expense of the civilian economy. Eventually Kim Dal-hyon, perhaps the government's most promising reformer, fell afoul of powerful military interests. In the atmosphere of the time, that meant he had to go. "Even in the party there was conflict," Kang Myong-do said. "They didn't have a specific guideline for opening up and reforming." That set the stage for the clash, a personal one between Kim Guk-tae and Kim Dal-hyun. Kim Guk-tae, a second-generation revolutionary, eldest son of partisan and fallen Korean War general Kim Chaek and a graduate of Mangyongdae Revolutionary School, reportedly had been Kim Jong-il's supervisor when the younger man was starting his career. (See chapter 13.) Kang described him as "not very bright-he doesn't know what 'opening' means." Kim Dal-hyon was also a second-generation revolutionary, said Kang, who described him as Kim Il-sung's nephew-in-law. "He's very smart," Kang said. "He's a very powerful, gutsy figure."

The conflict between the two, according to Kang's account, began in 1992 when the regime was selecting the chairman of the external economic committee. "Kim Dal-hyon had been the chairman. With his promotion he wanted Yi Song-dae to be his successor. Yi was vice-head of the governments' trade department. Kim Guk-tae wanted Choe Jong-keun. Kim Guk-tae was secretary of the party Central Committee department in charge of personnel." In December 1992, there was a meeting of the Supreme People's a.s.sembly, Kang said. "During a break, Kim Jong-il called out Kim Dal-hyon for a chat and told him, 'We decided on Choe.' Kim Dal-hyon's face became contorted and he said if Choe became the next chairman he would quit as vice-premier. Kim Jong-il asked whom he wanted. Yi Song-dae,' Kim Dal-hyon replied. Kim Jong-il didn't know him, but since Kim Dal-hyon was so adamant he agreed to appoint Yi. When they returned to the a.s.sembly, Choe was very surprised to learn he had lost it."

At that point, "Kim Guk-tae started maneuvering to oust Kim Dal-hyon." His strategy was to show his adversary as an opponent of the military-first policy. Kim Dal-hyon, while serving as acting prime minister, "wanted to salvage the North Korean economy so he diverted to the mines 30 percent of the energy that was to be supplied to the military equipment factories," Kang said. "He is on bad terms with Kim Chol-man and Chon Byon-ho, high officials in charge of armaments. They were involved in a power struggle complicated by personal dislike. Kim Jong-il in a meeting asked "why there had been no innovations in armaments. They answered, 'Because Kim Dal-hyon took over our energy supply' Kim Jong-il is very smart. He knows how things work, knows what happens in the world. But he's very rash. If someone under him makes a mistake he makes a hasty decision to get rid of that person. He also doesn't like anyone else having too much power. He will get rid of such a person." Kim Dal-hyon was demoted, becoming manager of a synthetic fabric factory complex. His absence from Pyongyang probably slowed the impetus for change. "Kim Dal-hyon is for opening," Kang said. "There are bright people among the elite, but n.o.body else as gutsy as Kim Dal-hyon. When he's abroad he's even bold enough to say things opposed to Kim Jong-il's views."13 To the extent that Kim Jong-il during that period had an interest in economic reform, it seems to have been fleeting, not very profound and offset to a considerable extent by conservative impulses and his determination to seal the military's support for his succession. In March 1993, probably to back his claims to being the chief priest of his father's ideology, he warned in a twenty-two-page thesis against private ownership and other "abuses of socialism." Those he blamed for the collapse of socialist systems abroad.14 Even at that late date, then, he was demonstrably unprepared to make major changes in the system. Even at that late date, then, he was demonstrably unprepared to make major changes in the system.

There is little reason to believe that even the senior Kim's newfound enthusiasm for change went much beyond emphasizing food and consumer goods more, heavy industry less. But rumors had it that a disagreement between father and son contributed to the father's death.

I spoke with Oh Young-nam, a former captain in State Security who defected to the South. His family home in Pyongyang was across the street from the elite's social hub, the Koryo Hotel, a location that signified to me the family's considerable prominence. He mentioned, without naming, a powerful relative who had died. (I had heard that a relative of Marshal O Jin-u had defected, but Oh Young-nam refused to answer when I asked if that might be the connection.) Oh Young-nam gave me an account of Kim's last days that he said was pieced together from what he had heard from other members of the elite-especially sons and daughters of very high officials, whom he named for me.

"The more Kim Jong-il took power, the more Kim Il-sung regretted it," Oh said. "Kim Jong-il is very dogmatic. Kim Jong-il divided the bodyguard service into two separate forces. Force One was for Kim Il-sung and Force Two was for Kim Jong-il. That was a threat; Kim Il-sung was regretting it. But when he met Jimmy Carter, he was jubilant. He believed Korea would reunify under [a confederation plan allowing for] two systems. He told Lee Yong-u, the head of transport and former head of the surveillance department, that they should relink the North-South railroad in Pyonggun so he could go for negotiations.

"Kim Il-sung was at Mount Myohyang and Kim Jong-il was at Samjiyon pond at a resort for high ranking people such as Lee Jong-ok, Pak Song-chol and Choe Gw.a.n.g. Kim Il-sung was so jubilant regarding reunification. He said in meetings of heads of ministries that he would de-emphasize defense and emphasize improving the lives of average civilians. He ordered that more electricity be delivered to people. But [during a meeting] he had a phone conversation with Kim Jong-il, who said, 'Relax, enjoy your old age. We'll take care of it.' Kim Il-sung was really angry. He couldn't continue the meeting. He went back to his office and told Chong Il-shim, a woman who was helping him with his memoirs, 'I am very angry at this moment. I want to emphasize civilian life. With the negotiations with the United States, I hope aid "will be given to North Hamgyong.' He was too angry. He asked his chief secretary to leave him for one hour.

"The chief secretary after two hours entered the office. Kim Il-sung had dropped off the bed, face first on the floor. The chief secretary raised him up, got the phlegm out of his mouth and asked for the main doctor. But Kim Jong-il had fired that doctor, saying he was too old. Only a young doctor was there. They arranged for two helicopters to come, but the one carrying emergency equipment crashed. The medical team couldn't help Kim Il-sung and he died. When Kim Jong-il heard it, he said, 'Do not announce it to anyone else. Restrict the movements of State Security, Public Security and the People's Army' [Here Oh named his sources for this detail, but I choose to omit those names.] Because Kim Il-sung died in such a way his chief secretary, whose name I don't recall, shot himself in the head.

"The media showed North Koreans weeping in front of the statue of Kim Il-sung. That only lasted three days. Kim Jong-il was astonished that people wept only three days. Kim Il-sung had been in power so long. Kim Jong-il realized he would be the leader and the people would worship him. But what would happen when he got weak? So he made every organization send a certain number of people to weep each day in front of the Kim Il-sung statue. They were not allowed to drink alcohol during mourning. Everyone who was in the mansion at Mount Myohyang when Kim Il-sung died "was under great scrutiny. Those who were there included Kang Jong-hyon, a great grandchild of Kim Il-sung's mother; Kang Jong-ho, from the Kang clan; a son of Choe Jung-nam, who heads the North Korea trade office in Guangzhou. All high-ranking sons and daughters considered Kim Jong-il to have been at fault. The day that Kim Il-sung's body was transported from Mount Myohyang, all soldiers were confined to barracks or recalled. They didn't want any movement. The next day O Jin-u went to the presidential palace in Pyongyang and was disappointed to find that the doork.n.o.b was rusty and the chandeliers' light bulbs were out. Maintenance was poor. How could Kim Jong-il treat his father that way?

"Most of this account was from sons and daughters of high officials. It's well known in Pyongyang right now."

On July 8, 1994, 1994, Radio Pyongyang issued a grave announcement: "The Great Heart stopped beating." Kim Il-sung had been "a great national hero who regained the sovereignty and dignity of the country" Radio Pyongyang issued a grave announcement: "The Great Heart stopped beating." Kim Il-sung had been "a great national hero who regained the sovereignty and dignity of the country" Nodong Shinmun Nodong Shinmun said in an editorial. Kim had "triumphantly led the twenty-year-long rigorous anti-j.a.panese revolutionary struggle and put an end to the distress-torn history of the nation and brought a new spring of liberation to our people. This was an undying feat that marked a new turning point in the history of our nation spanning 5,000 years." said in an editorial. Kim had "triumphantly led the twenty-year-long rigorous anti-j.a.panese revolutionary struggle and put an end to the distress-torn history of the nation and brought a new spring of liberation to our people. This was an undying feat that marked a new turning point in the history of our nation spanning 5,000 years."15 j.a.panese a.n.a.lyst Katsumi Sato watched the changing lists of the funeral committee for clues that might bear on the rumors-already rife-that Kim Il-sung had been arguing with his son when he died. Name order in North Korea traditionally indicated status. First lady Kim Song-ae started off as number 104 on the committee. Eventually she became number seven. Kim Song-ae had spoken with Carter during his visit. Also, Sato said, Kim Il-sung had told the visiting widow of a former j.a.panese prime minister, when she stopped over in Pyongyang, that his good health was thanks to Song-ae's son Pyong-il: "He's been helping me lately." Sato thought a real power struggle had been afoot at the end. He watched the televised funeral rally as Kim Jong-il whispered in O Jin-u's ear. O ignored him "as if he were a child," said Sato, who suspected the old marshal was angry because Kim Jong-il had "caused" his father's death.

As at the party congress fourteen years earlier at which his succession had been made formal, Kim Jong-il appeared pale and sick when he attended the televised funeral event. Slack-jawed and dazed-looking, he could have been mistaken for the corpse. He was reported to have fasted for four days. His appearance also gave rise to intense speculation about the state of his health, although some a.n.a.lysts suspected he was just trying to look as bad as possible to project deep grief. (We now know about his fall from horseback the previous autumn. He may have been showing still the effects of that accident.) In a book published in 2003, a j.a.panese who claimed to have worked as Kim Jong-il's chef said the Dear Leader after his father's death confined himself to his room for long periods. One of Kim's wives, Ko Yong-hui, found him keeping a pistol next to him once, and asked him what he was thinking about, the chef-wrote.16 A New Year's 1995 editorial that ran in the newspapers of the party, army and League of Socialist Working Youth referred to Kim Jong-il as "Great Leader of our party and people," "our Fatherly Leader" and "Supreme Commander of our revolutionary armed forces." If Kim Jong-il was ever going to do anything radical on his own, it might have seemed that now was his time. In the event, however, he had his father made president in perpetuity and kept the country in official mourning for three years.

As Hw.a.n.g Jang-yop recalled, "The entire country was swept up in a flood of tears. Most of the mourners were crying because they had been brain-washed by Kim Il-sung's personality cult, but there was also the fact that anything other than mourning was not allowed. The party conducted surveys to see who displayed the most grief, and made this an important criterion in a.s.sessing party members' loyalty. Patients who remained in hospitals and people who drank and made merry even after hearing news of their leader's death were all singled out for punishment. In the Juche Science Inst.i.tute, which I was supervising, Professor Hong Seung-hoon, the director of economic research, was demoted for remaining dry-eyed and busy repairing his bicycle. This incident eventually took its toll on Dr. Hong's health and led to his death."17 After Kim's death, Hw.a.n.g said, "there was a debate on whether the party should continue publishing his memoirs. I firmly stated my opinion that the party should stop publishing the memoirs. I pointed out that quite a few people already questioned the integrity of the memoirs published so far because they were too intriguing to be true. So if the memoirs continued to be published even after Kim Il-sung's death, people would lose their faith in even the volumes that had been published while he was alive. I also had another reason in mind. It was all right to stretch the truth about the partisan struggle before liberation, since no one would take issue with that. But exaggerating about the post-liberation period, which is public knowledge, was a different matter. I was afraid it might cause problems in diplomatic relations.

"Kim Il-sung's partisan warfare was carried out under the guidance ofthe Chinese Communist Party, but the struggle in Northeast China [Manchuria] was not a significant part of the communist struggle in China as a whole. Furthermore, Kim Il-sung's partisan struggle was but a small part of the struggle in Northeast China. So the Chinese could turn a blind eye to the North Korean leaders' exaggeration of Kim Il-sung's feats, since his struggle was a drop in the bucket compared with the struggles of the Chinese Communist Party led by Mao. However, the Chinese people would react differently if the historical facts that were being distorted occurred after the liberation. That was what I was afraid of. Overzealous officials ignored my advice and submitted the sequel to Kim Il-sung's memoirs for Kim Jong-il's approval. The memoirs are still being published, long after the death of Kim Il-sung."18 "By handing over the reins to his son, Kim Il-sung committed a total and irrevocable mistake," Hw.a.n.g Jang-yop wrote. "And his final mistake was sucking up to the power acquired by his son, thereby losing everything he once had. If Kim Il-sung had ruled only until the end of the 1960s and died then, he would have gone down in history as a hero of the armed struggle against j.a.panese colonialism and a capable leader of North Korea. But by handing over the government to his son, he walked down the same dishonorable path as Kim Jong-il, smearing the honorable first half of his political career. The mess in Kim Il-sung's life was made not so much by himself but by Kim Jong-il. The most serious defect in the lives of the two Kims is the hereditary pa.s.sing down of power. Who is the one more at fault in this matter? Most people say that it is Kim Il-sung, but I believe that more than half the blame lies with Kim Jong-il."19 Former North Korean diplomat Ko Young-hwan said he had been very surprised when he went to South Korea because "many professionals thought there would be political turmoil and Kim Jong-il couldn't succeed. I didn't think that way There's a big problem with his credibility, but I still think he'll rule for a period of time. His supporters are filling the highest official ranks, military and ciivilian, including economic officials. But he's going to collapse anyway because government officials believe he's only half the man his father is. That will bring him down. People around him think Kim Jong-il has a bad character and leads an extravagant life. He seems to put too much emphasis on unimportant issues. He doesn't have much interest in what's happening inside North Korea. He's not very interested in the economic crisis, the people's welfare or educational change. He's only interested in issues that can be seen, or that he can be acclaimed for. He's not interested in the big picture. He's interested in movie-making, operas, little gestures like sending a bus to a school or putting up buildings for a school."

So, I asked Ko, is Kim Jong-il basically a fool? He agreed with that characterization but I wanted a more nuanced estimate from him so I asked whether Kim wasn't bright in a way. "As far as I can see, I don't agree," Ko replied. "He has some talent in culture and arts. He can tell when the violinist hits the wrong note. But regarding the economy and statecraft he's a fool. The technocrats don't expect much from him in those areas, but at least they wish he'd show in the field of technology some of the zeal he displays toward art and culture. If he did that, maybe he could be seen as a better leader, but there's no chance of it now."

Former President Carter had arranged for then South Korean President Kim Young-sam to meet Kim Il-sung, and plans for the summit were being made when Kim Il-sung died. Pyongyang hoped that Kim Young-sam would attend the funeral. But communism was a personal issue for Kim Young-sam. North Korean agents, as we saw in chapter 6, had killed his mother in the family home on Koje Island in 1960. After his election in 1992, he had gone to the island and reported to his dead mother on his achievement, offering the election certificate before her grave.20 As North Korea retreated into mourning Kim Young-sam buckled to domestic pressures, insulting the dead leader's successor son by refusing to send a delegation to mourn the "war criminal." In a taped April 25, 1998, conversation in Pyongyang with visiting j.a.panese-Korean officials of Chongryon, Kim Jong-il cited the incident and called Kim Young-sam "a filthy dirt-bag." As North Korea retreated into mourning Kim Young-sam buckled to domestic pressures, insulting the dead leader's successor son by refusing to send a delegation to mourn the "war criminal." In a taped April 25, 1998, conversation in Pyongyang with visiting j.a.panese-Korean officials of Chongryon, Kim Jong-il cited the incident and called Kim Young-sam "a filthy dirt-bag."

"One thing I feel sorry for him," the North Korean leader told his visitors, "is that he surrounded himself-with bad advisors. When Leader Kim Il-sung pa.s.sed away, Kim Young-sam could not attend the funeral because of his advisors. I hear Kim himself regrets having bad helpers. When Leader Kim Il-sung died, I discussed with Secretary Kim Yong-sun what to do if Kim Young-sam wanted to attend the funeral, and made a detailed plan to receive him. But he did not come, and we were very upset with him. If he had any wisdom, he would have come to the funeral. If he had come, he might have taken over North Korea and become president of a united Korea. What an idiot!"21 The nuclear negotiations that Carter had arranged went forward despite Kim Il-sung's death. In agreements reached in October 1994 and June 1995, Pyongyang promised it would neither restart its suspect reactor nor reprocess the spent fuel. A consortium of countries with interests in the region agreed to provide light-water reactors to replace the existing graphite-moderated technology.

Nevertheless, in the regime's propaganda an ominous theme became increasingly evident: a negative fate awaited North Koreans and they must embrace it. "We must be prepared to die for the leader." "Life is not valuable without valuable deaths." "Your life is meaningless except in the context of the party." "We must be prepared to share the fate of the leader, good or bad." A diplomat in Seoul saw parallels to the atmosphere in n.a.z.i Germany during its final days. The Allies tried to starve the country into submission but Germans instead showed resilience and--when all hope was gone- readiness for catastrophe, the diplomat noted.

THIRTY.

We Will Become Bullets and Bombs In that part of the world there were neither shops nor markets nor merchants, nor any money in circulation. Here the law of value had no effect. Shoes and clothing for the population were obtained by capturing the enemy's supplies.-KIM IL-SUNG, DESCRIBING CONDITIONS IN THE MANCHURIAN GUERRILLA ZONES IN THE 1930s1 Consider a typical war scenario widely circulated in the waning years of the twentieth century and the early years of the twenty-first: Like j.a.pan in 1941, the Pyongyang regime decides its survival is at stake and war is its last realistic-albeit desperate-chance. Responding to a real or manufactured provocation, and counting on problems elsewhere in the world to distract Washington and slow any American response, North Korea unleashes artillery barrages that destroy Seoul. Mean-while fanatical troops sneak into South Korea, disguised as locals. Some infiltrate via larger-scale versions of a September 19, 1996, coastal landing by a band of armed northern commandos aboard a submarine. Others ride tanks and armored personnel carriers through secret tunnels beneath the Demilitarized Zone. Soon swollen by troops victorious in conventional battles along the DMZ, the Northern force sweeps south and bowls over its rich-and therefore soft-foe to reunite the peninsula in a matter of days.

Other scenarios could be imagined as well, of course. But regardless of the specifics, the message that defecting North Korean soldiers repeatedly took south was this: If-war should come, South Koreans and Americans would have their work cut out for them fighting an enemy more formidable than they might realize. Lulled by the pa.s.sage of time since the last Korean war ended in 1953, civilians in South Korea and the United States at times were tempted to brush off such warnings. Drawing confidence from their state-of-the-art armaments, many expected that their combined forces would turn back an offensive by the merely medium-tech North Koreans, with more or less ease.

Military and intelligence professionals based in South Korea, on the other hand, were more inclined to cast a respectful eye at their prospective foe. Whatever the technological gap, North Korea had a significant advantage in the location of the border-just to the north of the suburbs of Seoul, which put the Southern capital easily-within range of the North's ma.s.sive artillery. Besides, the Pyongyang leadership had spent decades of effort and vast sums honeycombing the North's hills to turn the country into an underground fortress, which it boasted would prove impregnable to attack or counterattack.

Despite such factors, the Gulf, Kosovo and Iraq wars inspired confidence that the American a.r.s.enal of "smart bombs" and other conventional weapons could tip the balance in Korea--without the need to use nuclear weapons. But an intangible remained for knowledgable South Koreans and Americans, even those possessed of unbounded faith in the latest gizmos. That intangible was morale.

For a long while, Northerners' fighting spirit withstood-indeed, thrived upon-food shortages. Shortages became a regular fact of life in the 1970s and by the start of the 1990s had seriously afflicted much of the North's population. The regime fanned popular hatred of outside enemies, blaming all internal trouble-notably citizens' reduced and intermittent grain rations-on South Korea, the United States and j.a.pan. Ordinary people bought into that theory ma.s.sively, defectors and refugees reported. Most North Koreans did not find the cause of the food shortages in the top leadership or in the country's political-economic-social system, both of which they had been taught to revere. Rather, they blamed their troubles on the military threat from their enemies. It was on account of that threat, they were told-and they believed-that they had to sacrifice in order to keep up a credible military capability.

For many years grain rations had been reduced across the board with the explanation that the difference was going into the nation's war reserves as a patriotic contribution. But when would the sacrifice and consequent misery stop? Defectors in the 1990s began saying that an overwhelming percentage of the people believed only war could end the North-South impa.s.se, which they saw as the cause of hard times. "The North Korean people have been suffering a long time," Bae In-soo, a truck driver who defected to South Korea in 1996, told me. "They've been investing everything" in preparations for war. And so, for them, "war is the only answer."

Ominously, those who felt that way included the younger soldiers who would have to do most ofthe fighting and dying if war should break out. Youngsters serving their hitches in the army-were-the overwhelming majority ofthem-not only ready but eager to fight. Combined with the war reserves ofgrain and fuel made possible by popular sacrifice and foreign aid, such focused hatred among the troops could be a formidable advantage in wartime-especially against a generation ofSouth Korean and American soldiers raised on abundance and more focused on consumption, leisure-time activities and post-military careers than on fighting.

How "would the South Koreans and Americans perform once the bullets started flying and their buddies started dying? Ahn Young-kil, a former North Korean army captain, saw enough following his defection to the South to warn that "in case of a long, drawn-out war-anything over two months- the South Korean army doesn't have the potential to continue and the Americans would lose interest." The South Koreans' "mentality is not as strong as North Koreans'," said Ahn. "South Koreans don't have a strong sense of-war and the sacrifice needed when war erupts." North Koreans, on the other hand, because of what they had been taught, "believe that they have to root out the main problem." That main problem was that "the food shortage and other difficulties in livelihood result from U.S.-led economic sanctions, and from the fact the United States and South Korea have been preparing for war and forcing North Korea to prepare for war." Get rid of that problem, they believed, and "they won't have this economic difficulty. So they are determined to have this war."

Choi Myung-nam, who served in the 124th Special Forces (the unit whose members had infiltrated to try to attack the Blue House in Seoul), offered a similar view: "The mentality and morale are very different. In South Korea, discipline is very loose. Soldiers only have to stay in the army for three years. During that time they can take leave to go meet their girlfriends." North Korean soldiers, in contrast, Choi said, were in uniform typically for ten-year hitches filled with tough, intensive training. In their Spartan lives, the Northern soldiers had "no chance to meet girlfriends," Choi said. They constantly shouted Kim Il-sung's slogan: "We don't want war but we are not afraid of war." In fact, Choi said, "all my comrades wanted "war to break out-partly because they wanted to flaunt their potential, but also partly because the economic situation was so harsh they just wanted some change." While he was in the North, Choi "thought we would win. I knew that in a single day we would go all the way to the Naktong River" in the southern part of South Korea. His experiences in South Korea did not change his mind materially on that point. "Coming to South Korea, I realized that in a one-on-one war with South Korea the North would always win, a.s.suming the Americans and others didn't get involved," he said.

True, North Koreans looking at the South might "miss the fact that pluralism in a democratic society has potential strength," as Kim Kyung-woong, an official in the South's Ministry of National Unification, noted. "In troubled times, society becomes cohesive." But in terms of the prospects for the outbreak of a second, probably bloodier Korean war, the more significant fact was that fighting spirit reached such a height in the North that the leader-Kim Il-sung or his son, Kim Jong-il, after him-had only to say the word and the ma.s.ses would march off enthusiastically into battle.

A big question after the mid-1990s was whether all that Northern mental readiness for war had peaked and started to decline. Some in Washington saw reasons to think so. A congressman, Tony Hall, said at a September 12, 1996, hearing that during a trip to North Korea in August that year he had seen soldiers looking as undernourished as civilians, thin and hollow-cheeked. "That may be the best evidence that most of North Korea's military isn't getting much more to eat than the rest of the people," Hall said.

Rear Admiral William Wright, director of Asian affairs in the Pentagon's Bureau of International Security Affairs, said at the same hearing that hunger could lead to a breakdown in discipline among the North's soldiers. "They will begin to see indiscipline, perhaps, and infractions ... as they continue to struggle to look after their own families and their own survival," Wright said. Such slippage did indeed occur. Several defectors told me that hunger and a.s.sociated health problems were starting to become more of a hindrance than a spur to military performance.

Historians a generation hence may well point to August 1995 as the high point on a chart of North Korean fighting spirit. August 15, 1945, was the day-when the Korean peninsula-was liberated from j.a.panese colonial rule- only to be divided into the American-ruled and Soviet-ruled zones that subsequently became South Korea and North Korea. In the early 1990s, the Pyongyang regime made much of the necessity of ending Korean division in time for the approaching fiftieth anniversary of the liberation, August 15, 1995. North Koreans believed that "if division still prevailed on the fiftieth anniversary, it would continue forever," said Choi Kw.a.n.g-hyeok, a twenty-five-year-old former KPA sergeant who escaped across the DMZ to the South. He said Northerners were also determined to achieve reunification as a gift to Great Leader Kim Il-sung during his lifetime, as Kim Jong-il repeatedly promised.

By 1992, the widespread belief was that all able-bodied young men should join the army so that they could take part in the war for reunification expected before that fiftieth anniversary said Choi, who was a university student but made the patriotic decision in the war fever of that year to enlist as a soldier. Already the food situation was severe enough, even for the military that the usual strenuous training had to be deemphasized, Choi said. Ideological readiness sessions that emphasized hatred of the enemy filled much of the soldiers' time. But then Kim Il-sung died, in July 1994, 1994, having ruled for almost a half century. Like many others, Choi Kw.a.n.g-hyeok was "devastated" by the Great Leader's death. He "started doubting that reunification would occur, doubting the whole regime" and its future. When August 15, 1995, came and "went, reunification still only a dream, "people started thinking, 'Maybe war will happen-but maybe it won't,' " said Choi. having ruled for almost a half century. Like many others, Choi Kw.a.n.g-hyeok was "devastated" by the Great Leader's death. He "started doubting that reunification would occur, doubting the whole regime" and its future. When August 15, 1995, came and "went, reunification still only a dream, "people started thinking, 'Maybe war will happen-but maybe it won't,' " said Choi.

Like an apocalyptic sect confronted with the world's failure to end on the scheduled day, the regime did its figures again and pushed the date forward, telling the people, "We'll have reunification by the end of the 1990s." People still bought in, but not as thoroughly as before. "They still think war may break out, but motivation and morale are not as high," Choi said. "Even the [military] trainers complain, 'With that kind of morale, how are we supposed to win the war?'"

Ahn Young-kil cited "two factors needed to keep morale up: Feed the soldiers well, and give them hope." In fact, that formula was Kim Jong-il's highest priority. In a speech near the end of 1996,2 Kim gave himself and the armed forces' political commissars high marks on the second part. "I am satisfied that our soldiers have the ideological thinking to become guns and bombs to protect the revolutionary leadership in a fight to the death," he said. The problem he saw was too much contrast between the levels of military and civilian morale. The speech marked the 50th anniversary of Kim Il-sung University, and that day Kim had watched a performance by the university's arts performance team. He was disappointed that the performers "were lacking in spirit." By comparison, "the performance I saw a few days ago by the mobile propaganda unit of the People's Army was full of stamina and