Nothing to Envy - Book Summary
Real Lives in North Korea
Release Date: November 4, 2023
Book Author: Barbara Demick
Categories: Biography & Memoir, Politics
Release Date: November 4, 2023
Book Author: Barbara Demick
Categories: Biography & Memoir, Politics
In this episode of 20 Minute Books, we will be diving into the heart-wrenching world of "Nothing to Envy" by American journalist Barbara Demick. Winner of the prestigious Overseas Press Club award for human rights reporting, and recipient of both the Asia Society’s Osborne Elliott Prize and the American Academy of Diplomacy’s Arthur Ross Award, Demick brings us a compelling portrayal of life in North Korea.
Through "Nothing to Envy", published in 2010, we venture into the lives of North Koreans under the three generations of the Kim regime. Guided by firsthand accounts from defectors, we bear witness to stories of famine, repression, and the harrowing isolation of a nation that has fallen out of touch with the developed world.
This episode will be of particular interest to those of you fascinated by North Korea, or those wanting to understand the realities of living under a communist dictatorship. For anyone intrigued by the hardships and triumphs of defectors and refugees, Demick's work offers rare, deeply personal insights. Let's delve in, and explore a world few of us can truly imagine.
Take a deep dive into the life and struggles of North Korea
Let's step into a world that seems unfathomable – a world where even stray dogs live more comfortably than humans, where people's main concern is hunting for food scraps to survive another day, constantly fearing the unknown dangers hiding around every corner. Yes, we are talking about North Korea, a country that since the division of the Korean peninsula, has been under the rule of a single family – three generations of Kims: Kim II-sung, Kim Jong-il, and now, Kim Jong-un.
In this exploration, you'll get an inside look at how average citizens have navigated life under a harsh totalitarian regime. You'll hear about their journey through the devastating famine of the early 1990s, which wiped out a staggering one-fifth of the country's population. We will transport you back to the significant historical events leading to the split of the Korean peninsula, as well as the infamous Korean War, presenting you a glimpse of the daily lives of North Koreans amidst the turbulent chaos.
Get ready to uncover:
- The reason behind the demarcation of the 38th parallel as the dividing line between North and South Korea;
- The peculiar manner in which North Koreans were ranked based on a haphazard hierarchy;
- And lastly, understand why self-reliance formed the cornerstone of North Korean ideology.
A whim of geopolitics: The unexpected division of Korea that triggered a war
World War II saw Korea as a rather unassuming Japanese colony, seemingly untouched by the grand games of geopolitical power. Yet, following the war's conclusion, this peninsula, tucked away just north of China, became embroiled in a tense tug-of-war between the United States and the Soviet Union.
In an attempt to appease the Soviet Union while maintaining a semblance of balance between the world powers, the United States implemented a surprising tactic - they split the Korean peninsula into two distinct halves. The north fell under temporary Soviet trusteeship as a preventative measure, to keep the Soviets from expanding their reach towards Japan. Meanwhile, the United States maintained control over the south.
This divide, drawn arbitrarily at the 38th parallel, was more about convenience than any sort of historical or geographical logic. It left the Koreans, who had no say in this split, feeling like mere chess pieces in the grand game played by superpowers.
As 1948 rolled around, neither side showed any inclination towards reunification, leaving the peninsula divided and the Koreans in a state of independence limbo. Soon, two republics were born — the Republic of Korea in the south, led by Syngman Rhee, and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea in the north, helmed by Kim Il-sung, a former resistance fighter during the Japanese occupation.
These contested claims of authority culminated in the Korean War in 1950. Backed by Soviet tanks, Kim Il-sung caught the South Korean military off-guard, capturing the capital, Seoul. What followed was an intense military struggle, with a United Nations coalition of 15 nations, led by the United States, rallying behind South Korea against the northern forces, further fortified by China.
The tumultuous war, which saw no real victors, ended three years later with a simple armistice. The border along the 38th parallel had barely budged, but the cost was enormous, claiming the lives of 3 million people.
A peep into the unwavering hierarchy: Shaping North Korean societal norms
The fallout of the Korean War saw the rise of Kim Il-sung as the head of a new communist government. The title might have been that of a president, but his reign was akin to a dictator's, one who fostered loyalty by rewarding the compliant with privileges and delivering harsh punishments to anyone who dared oppose his rule.
North Korean society was rigidly carved into three distinct classes, dictated by political loyalty — the 'loyal core', the 'wavering', and the 'hostile', each with its status and set of privileges, or lack thereof. This societal stratification bore a striking resemblance to a patriarchal caste system, with the catch that social status was passed down through generations. Officially, everyone was deemed equal under the communist banner, yet in practice, social mobility was a pipe dream.
Suppose your father had been a prisoner of war fighting for South Korea. In that case, your prospects of gaining admission into an esteemed university or tying the knot with someone from a higher social rank were dim. On the other hand, there was an abundance of downward mobility for those who dared to step out of line.
Access to necessities such as food and housing was dictated by one's songbun or social rating. In a methodical operation conducted in 1958, Kim Il-sung orchestrated comprehensive background checks on every North Korean, assessing their political reliability. This determined their songbun, effectively classifying them within the societal pyramid. These checks continued for decades, shaping the distribution of essentials.
Each citizen had specific days for visiting the food distribution center, where they could exchange their money and work coupons for grains and other staples. The higher your social rank, the better the quality of goods you received. Your songbun also determined your housing rights, including the neighborhood and house you were eligible to occupy.
If the stringent societal structure and control over living conditions weren't oppressive enough, Kim Il-sung had more up his sleeve to ensure North Koreans wouldn't dare dream of opposing his regime.
A society under constant surveillance: How Kim Il-sung fostered an omnipresent climate of ideology and fear
As the dust of the Korean War began to settle, Kim Il-sung set his sights on building a unique, self-reliant communist society. He aspired to cultivate a new breed of human, deeply ingrained in his philosophy of self-reliance — a doctrine he termed 'juche'.
His ideology was an amalgamation of Marx's and Lenin's concepts of the struggle between the rich and poor, capitalists and proletariat, and added a distinctive element — the assertion that Koreans were exceptional people, capable of existing independently, without needing support from their neighbors. He was relentless in driving home the message that there was nothing to envy beyond the borders of Korea.
Kim Il-sung intricately wove his ideology into the fabric of everyday life in North Korea. Mandatory daily ideological training sessions became commonplace. For instance, factory workers started their shifts with lectures in their factory's auditorium, later penning essays to deeply internalize the principles of North Korean self-reliance.
The nation's broadcasting networks meticulously altered foreign media reports to align with juche, ensuring North Koreans only received unfavorable news about South Korea, the "pitiable puppets" of the "imperialist yankee bullies." When China started incorporating elements of capitalism, North Korean media spun it as a sign of weakness, painting a picture of Chinese failing to uphold communism, unlike their superior North Korean counterparts.
Kim Il-sung cultivated a culture of pervasive surveillance to support the ideology of juche. Neighborhoods were designed as self-monitoring units, with citizens spying on and reporting one another, making the act of surveillance a national obsession.
At the center of these were groups known as inminban, or "the people's group", formed by families tasked with running neighborhoods. An inminban leader would closely monitor and report any questionable activities, such as anti-government sentiments.
Then there were the kyuch'aldae, mobile monitoring groups patrolling the streets, free to raid homes at any time to check for violations like unpermitted overnight guests. Through this intricate social structure and constant surveillance, Kim Il-sung was able to successfully indoctrinate North Koreans, making them steadfast followers of his ideology.
Mastering the art of deification: Kim Il-sung's profound cult of personality
Ironically, despite his staunch advocacy for atheism in the framework of communism, Kim Il-sung derived inspiration from Christian traditions while consolidating his autocracy. He was astutely aware of the emotional sway of religious narratives and repurposed them to portray himself as a god-like patriarch and his successor, Kim Jong-il, as a figure reminiscent of Jesus Christ.
The state-controlled media played a vital role in perpetuating supernatural myths about the father-son duo. The storm-tossed seas, it was said, would turn placid when sailors crooned songs in praise of Kim Il-sung. Kim Jong-Il's birth, they claimed, was heralded by a double rainbow and a radiant star in the sky.
Kim Il-sung's and Kim Jong-il's portraits were not merely symbolic but intruded into the everyday lives of North Koreans. Only these pictures could grace the walls of private homes, with newspapers recounting heroic tales of citizens risking their lives amidst floods and fires to rescue these revered portraits. Weddings often unfolded in the presence of statues of the divine father figure, and even today, gilded mosaics of Kim Il-sung adorn Pyongyang's metro stations.
Fueling the narrative of their god-like personas, Kim Il-sung and his son were proclaimed as experts in all fields, from agriculture to engineering. They would regularly grace factories with their illustrious presence, imparting their wisdom and "invaluable" advice.
When Kim Il-sung succumbed to a heart attack on July 9, 1994, his departure was mourned with an intensity reminiscent of religious devotion. For ten days, citizens congregated around his statues, weeping inconsolably, mourning the loss of their "beloved father". All forms of revelry — drinking, dancing, and music — were prohibited. Years later, on December 19, 2011, Kim Jong-il's demise was mourned in a strikingly similar, deeply sorrowful manner.
A nation in darkness: The economic calamity following the dissolution of the Soviet Union
For all the fanfare around juche, or self-reliance, North Korea was significantly dependent on its neighbors. A lion's share of essential commodities like oil, electricity, and machinery were heavily subsidized by China and the Eastern Bloc countries. However, the disintegration of the Soviet Union in 1991 dealt a catastrophic blow to North Korea's economy.
The collapse of the USSR severed the lifeline of raw materials, equipment, and energy sources that powered North Korean industries. Left without supplies and electricity, factories across the country ground to a halt.
To compound the crisis, China and Russia began to demand repayment of the substantial loans they had provided. When North Korea failed to honor its debt obligations, both nations stopped the supply of additional raw materials.
The economic woes manifested in stark and severe ways. Electrical outages turned from an occasional inconvenience into a daily ordeal. Running water and heating systems became scarce luxuries, causing many North Koreans to perish in the merciless chill of winter.
Within a short period, the chronic lack of electricity led to the closure of factories. Workers were rerouted to special projects, such as gathering fertilizer or scavenging for scrap metal. However, the desperation for basic necessities drove most to abandon their jobs in search of food.
Meanwhile, North Korea's relentless pursuit of nuclear weapons alarmed international aid donors. When the country withdrew from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty in March 1993, it sparked the first nuclear panic since the Cold War.
The United States had offered to address North Korea's energy crisis if the country agreed to abandon its nuclear weapons program. But the deal fell through when the US accused North Korea of breaching its commitment. As the availability of electricity dwindled, hours of power outage morphed into days, then weeks, until the light bulbs ceased to flicker on.
In the present day, many buildings lining the main streets of Pyongyang remain shrouded in darkness after sundown, their lights extinguished due to acute power shortages.
Rise of the shadow economy: North Korea's grim struggle for sustenance
As factories shut down and agriculture floundered due to disastrous harvests, North Korea grappled with a dire scarcity of food. Bereft of a reliable food supply or even the fuel to transport whatever scarce produce was harvested, the state began to fail in its duty to nourish its people. Faced with this grim reality, the North Korean populace resorted to resourceful methods to survive.
In the rigidly communist ethos, commerce was seen as a brazen economic crime. However, driven by the urgency of the situation, Kim Il-sung permitted individuals to cultivate vegetables in their gardens and sell the produce. What began as humble backyard vegetable sales gradually morphed into a thriving black market economy.
By the onset of the 1990s, the harvests had become so dismal that farmers began stashing portions of their yield in their roofs, evading surrender to the state. The government, while justifying the shortage, claimed it was hoarding food in anticipation of reunification with South Korea. The United States also became a convenient scapegoat, accused of enforcing blockades.
As the food distribution system utterly collapsed, illegal private trade and black markets sprouted, driven by a desperate need for survival. Homemade products such as tofu, noodles, or kimchi found eager buyers. In a stark demonstration of his iron-fisted rule, Kim Il-sung instituted capital punishment for the sale of grain by 1997. Rice, once a staple, became a luxury most could afford only on special occasions, with cornmeal emerging as the popular alternative.
People resorted to selling or trading their homes to muster funds for food, bribing officials to turn a blind eye to these transactions. Survival took precedence over legalities, leading many North Koreans to abandon their homes and travel in search of sustenance. Consequently, homelessness soared, with train stations becoming makeshift homes for many, and theft and begging becoming commonplace. The sight of dead bodies being trundled off the streets became a grim daily ritual.
When Kim Jong-il assumed the reins of power following his father's demise in 1994, he inherited a country decimated by famine, with millions of lives already extinguished.
Emergence from isolation: A desperate North Korea opens doors to foreign aid and legitimizes the black market
When Kim Il-sung passed away, he left behind a nation teetering on the edge of collapse. North Korea's natural resources had been laid to waste, adults had abandoned their workplaces, and children shirked school to scavenge for food.
Orchards and forests were picked clean, wildlife was hunted to extinction, and people resorted to brewing soups from grass and tree bark to stave off hunger. For a while, hospitals offered refuge and warmth, but by the late 1990s, they too were deserted.
An escapee and former doctor, Dr. Kim, recounted her experiences during those dark times — making their own medicines and bandages, and even donating their skin for treating burn victims. Then, in the winter of 1994, Kim Jong-il finally acknowledged the grave food crisis plaguing North Korea, allowing a United Nations relief team to step foot in the country in September 1995.
By then, North Korea's economy had hit rock bottom. Per capita income had plummeted to less than one-third of what it was just five years prior. Exports dwindled from two billion dollars to a mere eight hundred million. Between 1996 and 2005, North Korea received food aid worth 2.4 billion dollars. However, due to the North Korean government's unwillingness to grant comprehensive access to relief teams, much of this aid was hoarded by corrupt military officials or traded on black markets at sky-high prices.
In a desperate bid to resuscitate the country's failing economy, Kim Jong-il began legitimizing black market commerce in 2000. Vendors were charged a fee for occupying a stand, bringing a semblance of regulation to the underground economy.
However, in the subsequent years, Kim Jong-il started aggressively regulating these markets. He sporadically banned affordable staples like soybeans and potatoes, further exacerbating the food crisis for the impoverished. In 2009, he temporarily banned the nation's currency in a draconian attempt to control the markets, sparking widespread chaos. Faced with famine, darkness, and unprecedented instability, many North Koreans sought to escape their homeland, driven by an unyielding urge to survive.
The perilous pursuit of freedom: North Korean defectors brave grueling journeys to reach China and South Korea
Driven to desperation by homelessness, starvation, and the constant specter of death, numerous North Koreans dared to defy the harsh penalties for defection and embarked on harrowing journeys in search of freedom.
With fences barricading the coastlines, thus dashing any hopes of sailing to Japan, the hopeful defectors turned northward to the porous Chinese border along two rivers. They would skulk through the wilds until they reached the riverbanks and then cross the shallow waters during low tide.
Once there, they would either patiently wait for the Chinese guards to fall asleep or attempt to buy their silence with bribes. Those with the financial means could enlist the aid of a guide who would not only shepherd them across the rivers but also provide shelter in China. There, they were groomed to blend in, donned in new clothes, and equipped with a counterfeit South Korean passport. Masquerading as tourists, these defectors would then board flights to South Korea, where they would reveal their true identities to an immigration officer.
However, not all North Koreans were fortunate enough to afford such arrangements. The less privileged had to brave a treacherous trek through the desert to the Mongolian border, where they would hand themselves over to the police, who would deport them to South Korea.
Meanwhile, some North Korean women turned to brokers to sell themselves as wives to Chinese buyers, while others would risk multiple border crossings, smuggling Chinese appliances and DVDs back into North Korea to sell for a profit. By 2001, around 100,000 North Koreans had successfully defected to China, with an estimated three-quarters of the North Korean population in China being sold wives, often living in slave-like conditions.
Punishments for defection were severe, ranging from labor camp imprisonment to execution. However, even fleeting glimpses of the Chinese lifestyle stirred in many North Koreans a deep yearning for freedom, making the risky escape to South Korea an appealing, even necessary, gamble.
Finding their footing in a new homeland: How South Korea’s integration system aids North Korean defectors in adapting to their new lives
In 1998, a mere 71 North Koreans sought South Korean citizenship. Fast forward to 2002, and this figure had surged to 1,139. And the numbers continue to grow year after year. Once these brave defectors reach South Korean soil, they are granted citizenship and are enrolled in an integration program to ease their transition into the new society.
Upon arrival, they are lodged in a dormitory where they undergo rigorous interrogations by the National Intelligence Service, South Korea's counterpart to the CIA. This safeguarding step is designed to flush out any undercover spies or fraudsters pursuing settlement benefits. Mrs. Song, a defector from the late 1990s, endured a month-long stay in one of these dormitories.
For two hours or more every morning, Mrs. Song would face intensive questioning about specific landmarks like offices of the Worker's Party or unique local neighborhoods in her home city, all in an effort to verify her identity.
Once cleared of suspicion, these North Koreans are relocated to an isolated campus where they are taught to live independently. Here, they learn about bill payments, operating automated machinery, the concepts of human rights and democracy, and world events that transpired post-World War II.
On completion of this reeducation process, they are provided with a lump sum known as settlement money to kick-start their new lives. The settlement money typically amounts to around 20,000 dollars – equivalent to the average annual per capita income in South Korea, and a whopping 14 times that of North Korea. The actual sum varies based on factors like age and employability.
Despite these welfare initiatives, assimilation into South Korean society is a challenging feat for many defectors. To illustrate, during a class outing to a food court, Mrs. Song and her fellow defectors all ordered noodles, simply because they were clueless about the other dishes on offer. North Korean defectors often grapple with the multitude of daily decisions — from picking out clothes to deciding where to live — which are a stark contrast to the state-regulated lives they were conditioned to back home.
Dim prospects under a new reign: North Korean living conditions under Kim Jong-un show little improvement
Stepping into his father's shoes, Kim Jong-un ascended to power in North Korea in 2012. The young leader initially showed signs of fostering economic reform and enhancing the quality of life of his countrymen. And indeed, there were some early signs of progress. But before long, Kim Jong-un's priorities shifted, and weapons development took center stage.
The onset of Kim Jong-un’s rule coincided with a flurry of construction and restoration projects commemorating the centennial birthday of his grandfather, Kim Il-sung. This new infrastructure seemed to suggest that the young leader had a genuine interest in elevating the living standards of North Koreans.
While he did somewhat alleviate restrictions on the quasi-legitimate economy, Kim Jong-un poured a significant portion of the nation's resources into vanity projects such as amusement parks and ski resorts. Concurrently, he pursued his father's military ambitions with a zeal. The inaugural North Korean satellite was launched the same year he took power, and he oversaw yet another nuclear test, marking the country’s third since 2006.
By 2013, the political climate grew increasingly precarious. North Korea's government tore up the 1953 Korean War armistice, essentially reigniting war with South Korea, and they even threatened to unleash nuclear weapons on the United States.
But despite these grandiose threats, North Korea remains an impoverished and isolated country. Although mobile phones were introduced in 2008 and about 2 million were registered by 2013, internet access remains a distant dream, and calls to or from outside North Korea are a practical impossibility.
And, while the state ensures that visiting foreign journalists and diplomats are shown a façade of prosperity – with seemingly well-fed citizens, grandiose buildings, and monumental statues – a UN representative confided to the author that the seemingly bustling hotel she was lodged in swiftly reverted to darkness as soon as she left. Evidently, the illusion of progress couldn't be maintained around the clock.
Summing it all up
Central takeaway from the book:
The genesis of the split between North and South Korea can be traced back to the post-World War II tension between the United States and the USSR. After a fleeting era of prosperity under North Korea's inaugural dictator, Kim Il-sung, the country slipped into a grave economic crisis that led to a catastrophic famine in the 1990s, claiming millions of lives. Given the dim prospects of reunification, North Korean defectors continue to pour into Seoul, the South Korean capital, by the thousands annually.