A Realm of Possibilities: Catching Up with Eun Young and Min Gu
Eun Young and her husband Min Gu were unable to support themselves in North Korea through government-approved means, so they found other ways to survive. She worked in an underground market and he traded goods between North Korea and China. This life was difficult, but they continued on in order to provide their child (they asked us not to disclose their child’s gender) with the best future possible. However, they eventually came to realize that their situation would never improve if they stayed in North Korea and resolved to escape in pursuit of a better life.
Today, Eun Young and Min Gu are safely resettled in South Korea and are making lives for themselves in their new society. Our resettlement coordinator, Anna, recently met up with them to talk about their lives in North Korea, what they're doing now, and what their plans are for the future.
Anna: I saw a North Korean restaurant close by your apartment on the way.
Min Gu: The person who owns the restaurant is also from North Korea and she resettled seven years ago, but the food there is not as good as what you can have in North Korea. I asked them to slice and fry tofu thinner because that’s what it is supposed to look and taste like back home.
Eun Young: Those aren’t authentic. It’s not a matter of the thickness, but rather the quality of the tofu, because in North Korea two to three generations of a family will make tofu traditionally and it’s so flavorful and good. But, I still go to the restaurant instead of going to a bigger and nicer restaurant whenever I miss my hometown. They also have corn-noodle soup and stuffed squid, and every bite makes me feel nice and warm. Have you tried any of these foods?
Anna: My friend from North Korea and I once made rice-filled tofu, but I’ve never had corn-noodle soup. It sounds really good!
Min Gu: (Chuckles) It’s not like what you'd expect. People back in North Korea eat it to fill their stomachs. Why would you go to the North Korean restaurant when there are so many better choices? As I said, we go there because it brings back our memories of home.
Anna: Many North Korean people must live around here.
Min Gu: Yes, I’m guessing about 30% of the residents of this apartment complex are North Korean. Many disabled and elderly people who receive housing through the government live in the apartment complex, too.
Anna: By the way, what happened to your leg?
Min Gu: I got hurt at work. I was hospitalized, but I came home for today because you were coming.
Eun Young: Actually, you don’t go to hospital for a sprained ankle in North Korea. You just rest and apply a steamed towel to the ankle. Hospitals here have better technology and service, so he can be treated with the proper procedures.
Anna: When do you remove the bandage?
Min Gu: I now have to wear a cast. It’s terribly boring to spend all my time at the hospital. I’d rather work.
Eun Young: We enjoy working; it’s so rewarding. We both received our first paycheck in November. We sent $2,000 out of $3,000 to our child in North Korea.
Anna: Who is your child staying with?
Eun Young: With an aunt. We recently had a chance to talk to our child on the phone, I recorded the whole conversation and listen to it every single day.
[Recording of the conversation]
Child (age of 9): Mom?
Eun Young: My darling, I miss you, I really do. Mom and dad just sent your aunt $2,000. It’s 100 $20 bills. Okay? If there’s anything you want to eat or have, don’t hesitate to ask your aunt. Ask your aunt to buy you fruits if you want. Don’t cry, Mom and dad will bring you out next year. Please be a little more patient. Also, drink milk. You promise me to drink milk every day, okay?
Child: Mom, don’t worry. Stay healthy.
Eun Young: I’ll be never relieved until we meet. We’ll bring you out. I’ll hand the phone to your dad.
Min Gu: Stay healthy and eat well. Don’t tell other friends and teachers that you’ve talked to us. Always be careful.
Child: (Sobbing) I want to see you, dad. I miss you.
Anna: S/he seems mature.
Eun Young: S/he used to be like a baby sometimes and was very affectionate, but s/he has changed over past few months. My sister-in-law takes good care of my child, but it’s not the same to live with someone other than your immediate family.
Anna: When people first attempt to escape, you can’t predict how it’ll turn out. Is that why you couldn’t bring your child with you?
Min Gu: Yes, exactly. If two of us get caught crossing the river or in China, we can make excuses since I worked as a trader between the two countries. We would be imprisoned for a shorter period. But if we get caught with our child, there’s no explanation other than defecting from North Korea.
Eun Young: But after we succeeded, I regret bitterly not bringing our child. We want to bring him/her out some time next year when we’re more stable and have enough money to support him/her. I’m glad that it’s possible to hear his/her voice through the phone and to be able to mail each other occasionally. My child recently sent me a picture of him/herself in the clothes that I sent him/her for the holidays. It means a lot to him/her when I pick out a piece of clothing and send it instead of cash.
Anna: S/he looks good in yellow!
Eun Young: His/her favorite color is yellow, but I’m worried that people suspect s/he has relatives in South Korea because s/he owns better belongings than his/her friends. We need to bring him/her out as soon as possible. That’s why we work so hard to save money, there’s no time to waste.
Anna: What was your biggest challenge in South Korea?
Eun Young: I struggled to figure out what kinds of job were out there, what I’m good at, and how to make a wise decision when I’m newly resettled.
Min Gu: Nothing too hard, but I’m busy catching up with South Korea’s advanced technology and assimilating in a new society.
Anna: How often do you think about North Korea? What do you think about?
Eun Young: Yes, every second of my life I think about North Korea, especially the food shortage. I wish they could have enough food so they don’t starve to death. I wish people in North Korea could have this freedom that I have now. I have a better life here, but people in North Korea are dying because of starvation.
Min Gu: Even just before we left North Korea, a young-man who lived next door died of starvation although he served in the military for thirteen years. I saw no hope.
Anna: What was your biggest challenge in North Korea?
Min Gu: We had enough to feed our child, but I was always nervous living in an unstable society with fear of getting caught or being imprisoned for irrational reasons.
Eun Young: Day and night, I was always intimidated by someone knocking on the door. That sound was so terrifying because we bribed the head of a company so that my husband could run his own business instead of taking a labor-intensive job that was required by the government.Anna: What was your happiest memory in North Korea?
Min Gu: (Looking at his wife) Did we ever have a happy moment there? Maybe once a year? When were we happy?
Eun Young: (Smiles)
Anna: How did you get involved with your trade job?
Min Gu: My parents were from Japan and taught me about the concept of capitalism. Although it was a highly risky job, I did it to provide a better quality of life for my family. It was all for my child. I was also discriminated against and couldn’t pursue certain careers because my parents were from Japan.
Anna: It seems like you were more aware of the outside world since you had traveled to China many times?
Min Gu: I traveled to different provinces in North Korea for business, and I realized that some of these people have also awoken to the reality of the outside world. Young North Korean women in the bigger city talk and dress like South Korean women. I even saw a group of young people at a restaurant who tried to talk with a South Korean accent and had fun. Without government regulation, North Korean culture is going to be the same as here in the South. They secretly watch the same types of movies and dramas all the time.
Anna: How were you able to travel to many different provinces?
Min Gu: As long as I pay them enough, they’ll issue a travel permit right away. If you pay them in the morning, you’ll be able to obtain the permit in the afternoon even to go to China. Well, if you have certain amount of accumulated capital and a respectful family background, North Korea is not the worst country to live, but you never know when the government will take all of that away from you. Everyone has the same concern.
Anna: Aren’t you worried about the competitive nature of life in South Korea?
Eun Young: No, I’m not worried at all. The more we work, the more we earn. It’s very satisfying and no one will accuse or arrest me. I like that!
Anna: What is it like living in freedom?
Min Gu: It’s so relaxing and fascinating to live like an actual human being.
Eun Young: The effort and time I put into my work pays off. I really appreciate the sense of accomplishment. In North Korea, although you’re healthy and your physical condition is allowing you to work, you never get paid for your labor anywhere. We jokingly said to each other that at least one person per household should go to South Korea because they’re better off. It’s a shame.
Anna: What is something that you started to do in South Korea that you never did before?
Min Gu: Nothing yet.
Eun Young: I thought about it, but I haven’t been able to challenge myself to learn a new thing just yet. I wanted to learn how to use computers and take classes to be a nurse assistant. My husband wanted to get a heavy equipment driving license, but we both agree that it’s more important to save money first to bring our child out. We’ll achieve those goals little by little. I know if I try to achieve too much too fast, I could lose it all, so I’m not in a hurry.
Anna: What advice would you give to someone who just arrived in South Korea?
Min Gu: When you come to South Korea, live your life to the fullest. As long as you keep trying, anything is possible. Some people might have more resources to start with, but it’s important to appreciate what you have, not complain about what you don’t have.
Eun Young: Sometimes I feel shameful to look at myself sweeping the street all day and think ‘Why did I risk my life to escape to do this?’ and I’m so sad that I wasted half of my life in North Korea. The last 40 years of my life seem like a blank sheet of paper. If I was born in South Korea, I would have been able to receive a proper education and achieve more, however, it’s even more depressing when I think of people who are still in North Korea who never had a chance to live in freedom like an actual human being. I’m going to put all of these negative thoughts away, and work hard and do my best to provide a stable and healthy life for my family.
You can help other North Korean refugees escape China and resettle successfully by donating to our work. Donate here.
SONGBUN | Social Class in a Socialist Paradise
The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.
Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary reconstitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes...
The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones.
So begins Chapter 1 of The Communist Manifesto, written by Marx and Engels and published in 1848. If we take the last paragraph, and change a couple of labels, it perfectly describes North Korea today:
The North Korean society that has sprouted from the ruins of the division of Korea and the Korean War has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones.
In fact, the North Korean regime has established 3 new classes divided into 51 categories, and has created what is widely recognized as the most oppressive society in the world. Maybe Marx rests easier now that his portrait no longer adorns Kim Il-sung Square in Pyongyang; it was taken down before Kim Il-sung’s centenary celebrations in April. The North Korean regime has been extremely intentional at creating and enforcing social classes based on political loyalty and this system, known as songbun (성분), is key to understanding North Korean society as a whole and specifically and the system of oppression which the ruling elite uses to maintain political control. So a new report on Songbun by our colleagues at HRNK, Marked for Life, is a great addition to the literature on NK.
The report describes songbun as a state-directed system of discrimination based on hereditary classes determined by perceived loyalty to the regime. It decides your prospects in almost every area of life, including education, occupation, military service, Party membership, treatment by the criminal justice system, housing, medical treatment, marriage, and even food supply. The individual has no control over this system, their songbun being decided by their family line, making it analogous to discrimination along racial lines. The whole system can be described as a political apartheid, reminiscent of the racial apartheid in South Africa that attracted such international criticism until it ended with the election of Nelson Mandela.
CREATION OF SONGBUN
The songbun system was devised in the early years after the formation of North Korea out of a motivation to protect the Kim regime by isolating and controlling perceived internal political threats. It did this by categorizing every single North Korean resident according to how politically safe or risky they might be. The key factors considered were your ancestors’ socioeconomic background at the time of liberation (1945), their activities during the Korean War (1950-1953), and whether you had relatives in South Korea or China (being connected to the outside world is bad for your songbun).
North Koreans were split into three broad classes:
- Core (핵심), 28% of the population. Includes professional revolutionaries, descendants of ‘war heroes’ who died working or fighting for the North, peasants or those from peasant families.
- Wavering (동요), 45%. Includes people who had previously lived in South Korea or China, those with relatives who went to the South, families of small-scale merchants, intellectuals, practitioners of superstition, etc.
- Hostile (적대), 27%. Includes descendants of landlords, capitalists, religious people, political prisoners, those who had assisted South Korean forces during the Korean War, or were otherwise judged anti-Party or associated with external powers.
The regime keeps a file on every single person above the age of 17 (before that age your details were registered on your parent’s file), and an incredible amount of work goes into creating and regularly updating these records. The data is now managed using the software system “Faithful Servant 2.0.” This digitization makes it easier for authorities to access any citizen’s songbun file from any Ministry of Public Security computer terminal from provincial to county levels.
EFFECTS OF SONGBUN
Songbun is deeply entrenched in North Korean society and affects nearly all aspects of a North Korean’s life, including (see HRNK’s full report for further details):
Occupation:
In NK, you do not choose your job. The regime chooses it for you, and it is heavily influenced by your songbun. Simply put, if you have low songbun, you will be put into gruelling manual work, whereas if you have high songbun, you might expect a relatively cushy Party cadre position. There is no element of meritocracy here and ability does not factor in much, meaning that it is quite possible that more able workers are placed in less important roles while less able workers are given positions of responsibility. This failure to efficiently utilize their national talent-pool is yet another reason why North Korea’s state-controlled economy struggles so much.
Education:
Again, this is not meritocratic. If your parents have good songbun, then you are allowed to progress. Otherwise, no matter how hard you study, you will not advance academically. As you can imagine, this can cause resentment (although that resentment is sometimes aimed at the parents, not the regime). This system also ensures that “elites play together.” Those with good songbun go through the same schools and the same colleges, and they network within this pool for their future mutual benefit. Those with bad songbun are of course denied such opportunities. The importance of personal connections in North Korean society compounds the importance of songbun.
Family:
Knowing the importance of keeping a clean record in NK society, parents impress on their children the importance of not doing anything to step outside the Party line, as it would affect the whole family. The importance of songbun also means it is one of the most important factors to consider when finding a spouse. If you marry someone of lower songbun you and your children will lose out, so people tend to marry within their songbun level, as indicated by the occupation and status of their partner’s family. (Note that these phenomena are not unique to North Korea, as people tend to marry within their own social class in other countries too. What is unique in North Korea is how this is being played out within a class system which has been systematically created according to the interests of the ruling elite.)
Internal Exile:
For decades, the regime has systematically exiled tens to hundreds of thousands of low-songbun political undesirables to isolated and unfavourable mountainous areas in the northeast of North Korea. Here they have been forced into hard labour, subject to tighter controls, excluded from population centres, and effectively removed as a potential political threat. It could be argued that the regime has not only tried to cut off the outside world but is now increasingly cutting off Pyongyang from its outer provinces, leaving those who are judged as potential political threats isolated and with no way to demonstrate their frustration without risk of complete elimination.
Food:
Songbun has a huge effect on a North Korean citizen’s food supply. Particularly at times of scarcity, the distribution of food and resources has been concentrated to the higher songbun levels - Pyongyang and central regime institutions (Party, government and military). This was particularly noticeable during the famine of the 1990s and the chronic food shortages that have blighted the people ever since. When the state-economy collapsed and there were not enough provisions to go round, the regime stopped providing food to the politically undesirable northeast regions, so the famine hit those regions the hardest. It has been reported that as many as 30% of the population died in the worst affected regions, particularly North Hamgyeong Province. It should come as no surprise then that around 60% of North Korean refugees who have made it to South Korea are also from that province. An issue for another post is how this demonstrates the inextricable linkage between human rights and humanitarian / economic issues in North Korea. Understanding songbun should call us to question the wisdom of distinguishing between “economic migrants” and “political refugees” when it comes to this population.
Medical Care:
The public health system all but collapsed in the 1990s, but special treatment is still available for elites in Pyongyang. People of lower songbun cannot access these facilities, even if they have independent wealth, and the best they can hope for is to buy medicine on the black market.
In short, songbun institutionalizes the dominance of the ruling elite and their descendants over all other groups in society, and as this system has been implemented over several decades, the privileges of the core class have grown while the others suffered.The operation of this system is not at all transparent but people are generally aware of it, although they may not know details, including of their own songbun. Quite a few of the North Korean refugees that I have interviewed about their songbun have not been very sure about their own level. People of higher songbun are better aware of the system, and one gentleman that I interviewed jokingly half-boasted to me that his family was “totally red, the core of the core.” To him it was clear that he had good songbun because so many of his relatives held positions of responsibility within regime institutions, and some members of his family had also been granted considerable educational opportunities.
It is worth noting that while it is extremely difficult to improve your songbun, you can easily drop levels if you get in trouble through committing criminal or political offenses, or fail to cooperate with regime officials, or if a family member gets into such trouble. The implementation of songbun therefore creates considerable fear and forces people to obey the regime, and in reality it is an effective tool used by the regime to maintain control and power.
As we might expect, the changes inside North Korea over the last 15 years have affected the implementation of this system, albeit without being able to overturn it. The interaction between marketization and songbun (both mitigating and exacerbating effects), songbun’s effect on anti-regime sentiment, and the extent to which the songbun system can constrain change in North Korea will be covered in the next blog post…
SOKEEL J. PARK | Research & Policy Analyst
