Archive for the ‘Public Distribiution System (PDS)’ Category

Rallying round to boost Korean harvest

Friday, October 28th, 2005

BBC
Andrew Harding
10/28/2005

It was early on Sunday morning, but Roh Buk-chong, a 39-year-old postman, was already striding down the road leading north from Pyongyang.

“I am a volunteer,” he said. “I am going to help the farmers with the harvest – full of patriotic enthusiasm.”

He was not alone. In a scene strangely reminiscent of a 1950s Soviet propaganda film, the road was clogged with pedestrians and cyclists, heading for the nearby rice fields in the bright sunshine.

A government van passed by with loudspeakers on the roof, playing a rousing tune.

“They call me the girl who works well,” went the lyrics. “They call me the girl who works faster than the fastest horse.”

All this is part of what observers say is a concerted push by North Korea’s isolated regime to boost domestic food production, in a country where a third of the population is chronically malnourished.

It may be working. According to some predictions, this year’s harvest will be 10% larger than in 2004.

But that will not be enough, warned the UN World Food Programme’s country director, Richard Ragan.

“North Korea is chronically food insecure, so it’s unlikely in the near term that it will ever produce enough food,” he said.

Aid withdrawal

For the past decade, international food aid has helped bridge the gap for millions of North Koreans, many of whom starved to death during a famine in the mid-1990s.

The WFP now has 19 food processing plants in the country, helping to feed 6.5 million people.

It is backed up by a team of foreign monitors, who keep track of malnutrition rates.

But all that is about to change. North Korea’s heavily politicised drive for a bigger domestic harvest has been coupled with a new and more controversial move to end international food aid, and restrict the number of foreign aid workers in the country.

Although the details are being negotiated, all the WFP’s food plants are due to close within the next month.

“North Koreans are proud people,” said Mr Ragan. “They don’t want to create a culture of dependency, which makes a lot of sense.

“But there are still real humanitarian needs here, and it remains to be seen now they deal with them.”

Some aid is expected to continue in the form of development assistance next year.

China and South Korea are also likely to help make up any shortfall in food supplies.

But North Korea’s most vulnerable groups are now facing a period of uncertainty.

A key concern is how food will be distributed, and whether the army’s needs will be put ahead of the rest of the population.

High inflation recently prompted the authorities to abandon a market system for grain distribution, in favour of the old state-controlled policy – which the WFP has described as “inoperable”.

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The North Korean ‘Salaryman’

Tuesday, October 11th, 2005

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
10/11/2005

“How much do they earn there, in the North?” “What are North Korean salaries now?” These questions come naturally, even if people are aware that in a socialist economy the formal size of one’s salary is less significant an indicator of wealth than it is in capitalism.
Under socialism, access to goods is at least as important as the amount of money in somebody’s possession. Since retail prices in the socialist economies tend to be subsidized, this means that many goods are not readily available in shops, but are distributed by the state bureaucracy instead. Thus, people who are deemed more deserving get such goods… goods that are not available to the “less valuable” people.

A party bureaucrat and a skilled worker often might have roughly similar salaries in a socialist economy, but their actual consumption levels may be vastly different. Apart from bureaucrats, another group of people who have privileged access to commodities are people employed in the retail system. They always can divert some goods from the public distribution system and use them either for their own consumption, or for barter with those who control other valuable commodities. Thus, the position of a sale clerk is seen as very prestigious occupation in the North.

The 2002 reforms (never called “reforms” in the North Korean press) dramatically changed the structure of wages and prices in the country. For a while it was not clear what the current price and wages levels were, but recent research by the World Food Program seems to answer a few questions. Now we know what was regarded as “normal” wages in 2004.

According to the survey, most types of low-paid workers earn between 1,700 and 2,500 won per month, with an average estimated at 2,100. Low-level professional jobs such as clerks and teachers at nursery and primary schools earn between 1,400 and 2,000 won per month. The average old age pension is just 900 won; women, in particular housewives, sometimes get pensions as low as 300_400 won.

The official exchange rate is 1,700 won per Euro (they to play down the significance of the imperialist dollar, so exchange rates are usually quoted in euros). However, throughout 2004, the actual exchange rate fluctuated between 1,600 and 2,200. This means that the average pension was something like 50 cents a month, with a nursery teacher earning as little as one dollar a month. This is not as bad as it sounds, since prices are also relatively cheap. But this is still pretty bad…

Most of the people who draw salaries live in the cities (some 70% of the North Koreans are inhabitants of urban areas), and rely on the public distribution system for their survival. The system, which almost ceased to function a few years ago, obviously has made a moderate comeback. Since all data in the secretive North is classified, nothing is known for sure, but it seems that in early 2005, the Public Distribution System was “the main source of cereals for the 70 per cent of the population living in urban areas” (such was an estimate by the FAO, a U.N. food agency).

Still, the official rations are hardly generous. According to the WFP, in early 2005 rations were cut to 250 grams per person per day _ 40 per cent of the internationally recommended minimum. People have to purchase food on the markets, and this food is expensive, with rice costing some 500 won a kilo.

According to the FAO report, “the income of cooperative farmers from the annual obligatory crop sales to the Government varies greatly from one farm to another, resulting in monthly incomes per person ranging from 500 won to 4000 won.” But farmers can also substantially increase their income by selling the produce from their kitchen gardens, and by hillside farming which is done on the steep slopes of the mountains. The latter activity has become common in the North over the past decade. It is formally forbidden but done nonetheless, and it seems that a large part of the hillside produce goes outside the public distribution system.

Unemployment is quite high, but it is hidden. Formally, everybody has a job, but a persistent shortage of raw materials, spare parts, machinery, and power supplies means that few factories actually operate at full capacity. In many cases people come to their factories and offices and sit there idly, spending just a couple of hours a day doing some meaningful work. They still have to come, since otherwise they could lose access to food rations, and this would make their situation impossible, probably even threatening their physical survival.

According to interviews with officials, and other information garnered, the WFP estimated that some 30 percent of the North Korean workers are either permanently or temporarily underemployed or unemployed.

As usual, women are more likely to become unemployed. But perhaps they do not mind. Why? Well, is it possible for a family to survive, even on two salaries, if the official income can merely buy eight kilos of rice to augment the distributed 200 grams? Of course, the answer is “no”, and even in the most difficult circumstances people need more than just rice. Hence, the survival strategy of most families depends heavily on the efforts of their women. While formally seen as “unemployed housewives”, women produce most of the income, ensuring the family’s survival. Indeed, the new-born North Korean capitalism has a female face. But that is another story…

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North Korea Reinstates Controls on Grain Sales

Monday, October 3rd, 2005

Los Angeles Times
Barbara Demick
10/3/2005

North Korea Reinstates Controls on Grain Sales Rice and other foods will be distributed by the government and banned at markets.

Rolling back some of its economic reforms, North Korea is banning the sale of rice and other grains at private markets and strengthening its old communist-style public distribution system under which all citizens are supposed to get rations, aid groups and North Korea experts say.

The changes were supposed to be implemented Oct. 10, a holiday in North Korea marking the 60th anniversary of the ruling Workers’ Party. But reports from the World Food Program office in Pyongyang, the capital, indicate that merchants have been told already that they can no longer sell grain.

The United Nations agency said in a statement on its website that “as of Oct. 1, reports are that cereal sales in the markets will cease and public distribution centers will take over countrywide distribution.”

North Korea experts say the moves do not necessarily indicate an abrupt U-turn in the impoverished country’s economic policies, so much as concern that change was taking place too quickly.

“I think it is a transitional necessity. You can’t move too fast into free—market economics without softening the blow for people who have grown up in a planned economy,” Richard Ragan, who heads the World Food Program office in Pyongyang, said in a recent telephone interview. “This is not that different from what you saw happening in China in the 1990s.”

Lee Young Hwa, a Japan—based human rights worker who has close contacts with traders at the Chinese—North Korean border, believes the new restrictions on markets are designed to boost the power of the Workers’ Party and curb the role of the military in the economy.

“The military people control the food sold at the market. Nobody else has the trucks or the access to gasoline to move food around the country. The leadership fears that their economic reforms aren’t working because everything is controlled by the military, and they want to take back control,” Lee said.

For years, there have been accusations that the military was pilfering humanitarian shipments of rice and other aid, keeping the best for its own and selling the rest at markets. Secretly taped video footage obtained last year by human rights workers shows apparently unopened sacks of rice given by the U.S. and other donors being sold illegally at a market in the northern city of Chongjin.

On the open market, a pound of rice costs 15 to 25 cents — an impossible sum for many North Koreans, whose average salary of $1 per month keeps them on the verge of starvation.

Under the new rules, rice, as well as other staples such as corn, is to be sold at public distribution centers at subsidized prices and in rationed quantities. Markets, which have been gradually legalized since 2002, will still be permitted to sell vegetables, produce, clothing and other goods.

Cho Myong Chol, a former North Korean economist who lives in Seoul, said he believed North Korea would continue with market reforms but at a slower pace. “Since the economic reforms in 2002, the gap between the haves and the have—nots has become so extreme that there is an imbalance that is causing social unrest and dissatisfaction. I think they needed to do something about food to keep control.”

It remains to be seen whether the changes will help ordinary North Koreans. The government recently informed U.N. aid officials that it was cutting back their operations and no longer needed large donations of rice and other foodstuffs. Experts believe North Korea is concerned about the U.N. ‘s monitoring requirements and prefers direct aid from countries such as South Korea and China, which place fewer restrictions on donations.

Until the 1990s, the public distribution system introduced by North Korean founder Kim Ii Sung was the hallmark of a nation that claimed to provide its people with everything from rice to shoes. But the system collapsed in the early l990s, exacerbating a famine that killed an estimated 2 million people — about 10% of the population. The public distribution system still operates, but at reduced capacity.

Although North Koreans today buy much of what they need at markets, the government doesn’t like to admit it and insists that the cradle—to—grave system of social welfare remains.

“We are still a communist country. Nothing has changed. I get everything I need through the public distribution system,” said Yoon So Jung, 25, a guide interviewed last week at Mt. Kumgang, one of the few areas of the country open for tourism.

But pressed about her pink windbreaker, Yoon admitted hesitantly, “Well that, I bought at the market.”

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Gap Between Rich and Poor in North Korea Growing

Tuesday, September 6th, 2005

Choson Iblo
9/6/2005

North Korea’s gap between rich and poor has been growing since the Stalinist country started economic reforms in 2002. While some have managed to better themselves to form something of a nouveau riche class, more than 70 percent are now getting only about half the needed calorie intake from state-run food distribution centers, the Financial Times reported Friday.

The World Food Program’s North Korea director Richard Ragan told the paper the wealthy are concentrated in five cities, including Pyongyang. They are the group that can be seen going to work on their bicycles, which cost triple the average monthly salary in North Korea. The newly affluent work mostly in retail and service industries and include tailors, ice cream sellers and bike repairmen who make money in general markets, which have multiplied to some 300 since 2002. Some farmers selling surplus produce are also part of what passes for a wealthy class in North Korea.

Most of those working in industrial production subsist below the minimum level, and tens of thousands of industrial workers in towns like Hamhung or Kimchaek are losing their jobs. Among those able to work, 30 percent are unemployed, and 70 percent of the population receives 250-380 grams of food a day from state-run food distribution centers — no more than half the necessary daily intake of nutrients.

The FT said the country as a whole is experiencing 130 percent inflation but poverty is no longer shared equally.

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Life Without Money

Tuesday, September 6th, 2005

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
9/6/2005

For decades, money did not really matter in the North Korean economy and society. Levels of consumption were not determined by money expended, but rather by access to goods. Everything was distributed, and almost nothing was actually sold, at least from the 1970s when the Public Distribution system reached the height of its power.

Indeed, the history of the North Korean retail industries between 1948 and 1975 was one of a gradual demise of trade as it is generally known elsewhere. By the late 1940s most employees of state enterprises were being issued ration coupons. These coupons allowed them to buy goods at heavily subsidized prices. If they were not happy with them, they could go to the market.

In 1958 private trade in grain and cereals became illegal. For a while vegetables and meat were not rationed, but the number of items subject to distribution kept increasing, and by around 1975 the state shops had actually become nothing but outlets of the PDS. It was legal to buy and sell most goods on the market (grain and liquor remained an exception), however the North Korean economy was so structured that few goods could be produced outside the official economy. For this reason few goods could be channeled to the private markets. Thus, market prices were exorbitant, and people had to survive on what was supplied through the PDS.

However, the economic disaster and famine of 1996-2000 changed this situation. Markets began to spread across the country with amazing speed. In the years 1995-1997 nearly all plants and factories ceased to operate. In the worst period, in early 1997, the average utilization of major plants was reportedly a mere 46 percent of their capacity.

In most areas people still received ration coupons, but these coupons often could not be exchanged for food. Only in Pyongyang and some other politically important areas did food continue to be distributed through the late 1990s, but even here the norms were dramatically reduced: from the pre-crisis level of 500-700 grams a day (depending on one’s perceived value to the state) to merely 150-250 grams daily in the worst days of the famine. Even such small rations were not available to everybody. According to research by Meredith Woo-Cumings, as few as 6 percent of the entire population relied on the PDS in 1997.

Thus, many people, including myself, came to the conclusion that the PDS had died. This impression was reinforced in 2002 when the `economy improvement measures’ (never officially called `reforms’) were introduced. Then it was normally supposed by outside observers that consumption needs would be satisfied through markets.

But in 2004 and early 2005 new data emerged from the ever secretive North. It became clear that the Public Distribution System had not been dismantled. Indeed, it made a moderate comeback, largely due to foreign food aid which was largely channeled through the PDS.

Of course, the PDS does not even remotely reach its earlier ubiquitous levels. According to the FAO, the U.N. food and agriculture agency, in early 2005 the Public Distribution System was “the main source of cereals for the 70 percent of the population living in urban areas.’’ Farmers do not get food from the PDS. During the period November 2003 through October 2004, the average actual allocation through the PDS was about 305 grams, representing about half of a person’s daily needs. According to the World Food Program, in early 2005 rations were cut down to 250 grams per person per day — 40 percent of the internationally recommended minimum.

In October 2005 the North Korean government told its populace that the PDS would be re-started soon. So far, it seems that in Pyongyang the PDS indeed works at the 1990 level, but outside the capital the market remains the only place to find food.

In such a situation, the ability and willingness to engage in private business became a major guarantor of physical survival. A witty local observer described the situation in post-famine North Korea: “Those who could not trade are long dead, and we are only left with survivors hanging around now.’’

The major coping mechanisms are support from relatives in the countryside, wild food collection, and kitchen garden production. According to an FAO survey undertaken in late 2004, 57 percent of the PDS dependent population and “nearly all’’ farmers have kitchen gardens; about 60 to 80 percent of PDS dependents and 65 percent of coop-farmers gather wild foods; and 40 percent of surveyed households receive some support from relatives in the countryside (either as gifts or as part of barter deals).

It is important that farmers are allocated far larger rations, about 219 kilograms of cereals a year or 600 grams a day. They also have larger kitchen plots and can sometimes hide some additional food from hillside cultivation which is less strictly controlled by the state. According to the FAO estimates, kitchen gardens alone give the average farming household some 10 percent of its income.

As has been the case for decades, only a part of rations come as rice. Barley and maize, far less nutritious, comprise a large proportion of cereal consumption. The North Koreans’ approach to maize is clear from the fact that the rice/maize barter ratio is 1/2: for one kilogram of rice one expects to get two kilos of maize, and vice versa. In the period from September 2003 to September 2004 maize accounted for about half of all cereals distributed through the PDS.

But why is the PDS necessary, or why is it not possible to get rid of it altogether? The answer to this question is largely political and, as our readers guess, this will be another story.

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In the Black Market

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005

Korea Times
Andrei Lankov
8/23/2005

The North Korea of the 1960s or 1980s was not a society of complete equality. It had its rich and poor. But the affluent people were affluent either because the party-state bureaucracy chose them, such as government officials and a handful of the most prominent scholars and writers, as well as people who were allowed to work overseas and were paid in hard currency, or allowed them to be affluent. For example, this was the case with the repatriates from Japan. From the late 1980s, the situation changed. Some people began to make money not because they were paid and showered with privileges, but because they learned how to use market capitalism.

The markets began to grow explosively around 1990, and North Korean “black capitalism’’ was conceived around this time. The first really rich people began to appear, even though they had to hide their success both from the authorities and their fellow countrymen. And one had to use whatever advantages one had, as competition was tough. In the late 1990s, the North Koreans used to say “there are only three types of people in North Korea: those who starve, those who beg and those who trade.’’

These early capitalists came from backgrounds that gave them advantages over other people who also took up trade. Most of them were officials who had useful connections. In the 1990s, a person who could command a truck easily made a huge amount of money by moving merchandise around the country and exploiting the large differences in prices between the regions. Managers of state enterprises could sell the production of their factories on the market. This was technically stealing, of course, but it was in an increasingly corrupt society there was a fairly good chance of not getting caught. Retail personnel at all levels channeled the goods through the “back doors’’ of their shops, away from the disintegrating public distribution system. Military and security personnel also had advantages, since for decades they had lived in what can be described as a “state-within-the-state,’’ beyond even the most nominal control of outsiders. Finally, “hard currency earning’’ officials made a lot of money: they have been running quasi-market operations from the 1970s and had both the necessary expertise and resources. After 1990, they began to use these resources for their own ends.

In addition to officials, generals and police officers, there were other groups of people who found themselves in an advantageous position in those early days of North Korea’s capitalist revival. These included the repatriates from Japan whose relatives back in the “capitalist hell’’ have always been encouraged to transfer money to the North. The repatriates had money, and some of them retained vestigial experience of operating in a market economy. Another group included ethnic Chinese, some of whom were Chinese citizens, and Koreans who had close relatives in China. For decades, both of these groups have been engaged in small-time cross-border commerce, and after the collapse of state control, they greatly increased the scale of their operations.

Even some humbler professions found themselves in relatively good times. Drivers, for instance, could take money for moving passengers and merchandise _ especially, after the quiet breakdown of the travel restriction system around 1997. They also augmented this money by selling and buying goods themselves and became a major source of income for train conductors.

Fortunes were made in trade, not in manufacturing, which remained largely controlled by the state. Money lending also provided good profits. In the mid-1990s, private lenders charged their borrowers with a monthly interest of some 30-40 percent. The associated risks were high, too; these private lenders had virtually no protection against the state or criminals, or above all, bad debtors.

The growth of grassroots capitalism had another unexpected effect: the empowerment of women. Like their counterparts in most other Communist countries, the North Korean authorities expected every able-bodied male to be employed in some state enterprise. It was illegal for men to remain unemployed. However, for married women, the approach was different. All Communist countries grudgingly admitted that a woman has at least a theoretical right to remain a full-time housewife. In the North, the share of housewives was unusually high: no precise data is available but it appears that some 30-40 percent of married women of working age stayed at home.

When economic disaster struck, this arrangement had unintended consequences. The men kept going to their factories and offices, even if their wages were becoming meaningless. They were afraid of the still formidable state machine, they wanted to keep the status traditionally associated with proper jobs and they also needed the rations _ as long as the rations were forthcoming. Women, especially housewives, were free to pursue completely different economic strategies. They took up market commerce with great enthusiasm and soon comprised a majority of North Korean vendors. This also meant that the women’s earnings became the major source of income in many Korean families.

This did not mean that women became prominent at the highest reaches of the new capitalist market. To occupy the key positions and make really good money, one had to have connections, capital and connections. Most of the people who had all of these things were male, but at the lower levels of the new semi-legal capitalist class, women came to play a significant role.

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Almost-Free Enterprise

Tuesday, July 12th, 2005

Korea times
Andrei Lankov
7/12/2005

In 1997, when the North Korean economy began to crumble and the public distribution system ceased to function, the inhabitants of Yognchon County received a special gift from the Dear Leader: everyone was given a pair of nylon socks. Not luxurious goods, of course, but getting something in such a hard time was unusual. Few people knew that those socks were not actually provided by the government. The socks were donated by a Chinese Korean businesswoman, known to us as Mrs. Hwang.

But why did she do it? Why was it necessary for her to provide more or less the entire population of the county with socks?

It is increasingly difficult to see North Korea as a socialist state. The traditional Stalinist economy of the mammoth steel mills, railroads and coal mines, died a painful death in the mid-1990s. Nowadays, the North Korean economy depends on foreign aid, but most actual economic activity is made possible through the efforts of small-scale businessmen and businesswomen.

In order to be successful one has to have access to money. In other ex-Communist countries it is the former bureaucrats and party cadres who were best positioned to start a business simply by stealing the property they once managed as government-appointed officials. The property might be as large as an oilfield or as small as a corner shop, but an ex-bureaucrat always has many more chances to take over than an outsider.

But in North Korea the government is undecided on these issues. It has not (yet?) given the green light to large-scale privatization schemes along the Soviet or Chinese lines. Thus, it is other groups of people who are in position to make money. Paradoxically enough, they often come from groups once were seen as suspicious: repatriates from Japan or China, or local ethnic Chinese and Koreans who have close relatives overseas, preferably in China or Japan.

In this regard, Mrs. Hwang is a very typical case. Recently, Kwon Chong-hyon, an energetic Chinese-based correspondent of the Daily NK paper, interviewed her and got her to relate her life story and exploits. I believe that this is a story worth re-telling, since people like Mrs. Hwang are increasingly common these days.

Mrs. Hwang was born in China, in a mixed marriage, her father being Han Chinese, her mother an ethnic Korean. Like many other China-based families of Korean origin they fled from Mao’s “Cultural Revolution” in the 1960s and moved to North Korea. These days, when people are escaping from the North in their thousands, it is a little difficult to imagine that but a few decades back North Korea was often seen by the Chinese as a land of stability and affluence!

In recent years, Mrs. Hwang has lived in Yongchon County, not far from the border. Like many other Koreans with “Chinese connections” Mrs.Hwang began a cross-border trade business in the 1990s, when government control began to wane. Unlike many others, she had no need to resort to smuggling: having immediate relatives in China she can travel there legally, and in recent years this has become a lot easier. Of course, getting a travel permit might be troublesome, but her money allows her to smooth over the procedure with few kickbacks.

And, of course, her publicity stunt with “Kim Jong-il’s socks” did help a lot. She bought 100,000 pairs of socks wholesale and presented them to the local government for distribution. In doing so the local authorities could win some praise from above and improve their political standing, and in return Mrs. Hwang received powerful political support. And the common people got their socks!

Mrs. Hwang explained her survival strategy to Kwon Chong-hyon: “I know a lot of people in the foreign affairs department of the state security police in North Pyongan Province. Since I have a travel permit [to China], I can go there without trouble as long as I get it stamped by state security. If you have good relations with state security, it’s easy to get travel permits; if you have good relations with police, it’s easy to fight off the criminals; if you have good relations with the Party, it’s easy to do trade”.

The reference to criminals is not incidental. There is a growing lawlessness in the borderland areas, and businesspeople have to pay for their security. Mrs. Hwang said: “The criminal police and state security love tobacco, liquor and good dress very much. Now there are so many thieves and mobsters in North Korea, but once I give a phone call to the police officials whom I know, they always come [to protect me and my merchandise]. ”

Currently, Mrs. Hwang has two houses: one in North Korea and another in China. She prefers to deal with used and second-hand goods, items people in China do not buy any more. Such goods are cheap to buy in China, but when sold in North Korea they bring hefty profits measured in the hundreds of percent!

One of her most successful recent deals took place in late 2004. Mrs. Hwang bought 5,000 pairs of cheap working shoes in China, at 4 yuan a pair. She then re-sold the shoes to North Korean retailers for the equivalent of 13 yuan.

Mrs. Hwang is married, but it seems that her husband is less prominent in business than she. Indeed, the social changes of the last decade have greatly changed the balance of gender roles in the Korean families. But that is another story…

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WFP on DPRK Food Aid

Wednesday, April 6th, 2005

NK Zone
Scott Bruce
4/6/005

Tony Banbury, WFP Regional Director for Asia, said: “There were three main themes that emerged in my mind from this trip. The first is that the people in the DPRK are still in great need of food aid … The second main theme I’d like to share with you is that the situation, in terms of the amount of WFP food aid going into the country these past several months, has been very good…. The last issue that is very important to touch upon is the issue of monitoring, and WFP’s operating conditions…. they [the DPRK government] started putting more limits, as of September of last year, on our operating conditions, on our monitoring.”

Tony Banbury: I’m very happy to have a chance to meet you again, and pass on some reflections on the World Food Programme’s operation in the DPRK, and some of the observations from this visit that I’ve just completed. It was the third visit I’ve made to the country. The purpose this time was, as always, to observe the WFP operation, see for myself first-hand what the situation is like, not just in Pyongyang but also on the ground among the 6.5 million WFP beneficiaries. And also to have discussions with the government on the WFP operation and how we might be able to improve it.

We met of course with government officials – senior government officials – donors, NGOs, UN agencies; then in the field with local officials, beneficiary institution leaders, beneficiaries themselves in their homes, etc. So in a relatively brief period we were able to meet with a wide cross-section of people, international and Korean, and see a lot. So I think we were able to get a pretty good impression about what the situation is like now.

We spent a couple of days in Pyongyang, but then also did a field trip to Chagang province – primarily Huichon city. This is a province that WFP had been working in for quite some time, but then access to the province was cut off by DPRK officials at the end of last year, and its just been re-established. Its again open, we’re again able to monitor our food aid there. When access was cut off we of course stopped delivering food aid – we have a consistent “no access, no food aid” policy. Now that access has been restored our food aid is again going back in. We ourselves brought a small amount of assistance with us, to a “baby home”. We brought some Rice Milk Blend, which is a highly fortified blended food that, mixed into porridge, is primarily for young children. Much more assistance will be again flowing in the coming days.

While there, we were also able to visit a Public Distribution Centre, which is not something we’re often able to do, and that was a positive thing. In fact, more and more frequently, we are able to visit PDCs now. And we visited a co-operative farm, and met with the vice-chairman of the farm. That also is a rather unusual event for WFP. Normally we are not able to visit co-operative farms. We had a very good visit there on this trip.

There were three main themes that emerged in my mind from this trip. The first is that the people in the DPRK are still in great need of food aid – particularly the most vulnerable people whom we’re trying to help. We have a lot of statistical data to back that up, as a result of the hundreds and hundreds of monitoring visits we do, as well as a nutrition survey that was carried out by UNICEF and WFP in the DPRK last October. Perhaps you’re familiar with those statistics – we can provide them for you if you want.

But my observation that people are still in need was based on much more sort of individualistic circumstances, on people that I saw. We met one woman who had a newborn baby and a four-year old daughter. We went to her home. And she had stopped sending her four-year to the nursery school because WFP assistance had been stopped. And now that WFP assistance was starting again, she said she would start sending her daughter back to school. In the meantime, though, the family was existing essentially on maize porridge and acorn meal. They find acorns in the forest and dry them and boil them into meal. It’s a very sour, bitter taste that they don’t particularly like. But its one of the few options they have at this time of year. This family had no access to meats of any kind, except on major holidays or special occasions. They had run out of vegetable oil, which is an important source of fat – nutritious fat – especially for young children and nursing women. Occasionally they were able to get some beans from their in-laws. The husband’s parents live in a rural area and occasionally send beans, but at the time we visited there was none in the household. So this one family was clearly in a very difficult circumstance.

We met with another family, another woman, and her food situation was more or less the same: no chicken, no meat, no eggs etc. And we asked: “do you raise any livestock – pigs, chickens, etc?” She replied that they could not afford to raise a pig, they were so poor. They had no left-over food to give a pig. This is an indication of the condition of your average family in an average North Korean city now.

On the drive up to Huichon city, the river was still frozen over at a certain part, hard-frozen. People were walking across it, riding bicycles across it. Then, a few kilometres further on, the river was running freely, but obviously still very cold. And there were people in the river with their pant-legs rolled up, trying to catch fish. I promise you that water was very, very cold, and it would have been hard simply to walk in. And these people were working, barefoot, with their pant-legs rolled up, trying to catch fish. That’s one small indication – nonetheless a very telling indication – of the lengths to which people in North Korea are going to try to get some food.

On top of this, the Public Distribution System has just recently cut its ration size for the average North Korean from 300 grams a day to 250 grams a day. This glass here [holds up small glass containing rice] has 250 grams of rice. That is what people are living on in North Korea, day after day. Without any meat, proteins, vegetables – except perhaps what they’re able to hunt in the forests or get from relatives in the countryside.

They are obviously suffering from, in many cases, severe malnutrition. The statistics from the nutrition survey are quite clear in that respect. More than a third of the population is chronically malnourished. About a third of the mothers in North Korea are malnourished and anaemic. So there is a continuing, very serious food crisis in the country. That’s clear from the statistics, and its very clear based on observations. And it’s hard to imagine anyone visiting the country would conclude differently.

One last comment on the food situation: the economic reforms, which I imagine you’re all familiar with, are having an impact – in fact a big impact. As a result, some people are doing very, very well. In Pyongyang you can see more and more cars – imported cars. And restaurants, and people eating in restaurants, where a meal may cost the equivalent of five to seven times an average monthly wage. Some Koreans are doing very well, and are able to afford that. But that is a very thin stratum of society, at the very top. The large numbers, the masses of the people in the country, are living on an average wage of 2,000-3,000 won per month, more or less one euro. So the people who have that wage, and are obliged to go into the markets to buy – or try to buy – commodities to supplement what they get from the PDCs [Public Distribution Centres], to supplement this bit of rice [holds up glass containing rice], are ill-able to afford, for instance, vegetable oil, which as I mentioned a moment ago is such an important part of a diet. A litre of oil is a month’s wage, or two months wages – I’m sorry, but I forget the exact statistic now, but it’s far beyond the affordability of the average working family. So they’re highly dependent on either humanitarian assistance, or, if they have close relatives living in the countryside who are producing excess food in their kitchen gardens and are able to transfer it.

It was very clear talking to the local officials and the people in Chagang province that they were extremely pleased that WFP food was returning. They had obviously suffered. A local official spoke in very clear and direct terms about the difficulties experienced after the WFP assistance was cut off. And he was literally ecstatic that the assistance was being resumed. The families that we spoke to were likewise very pleased. I mentioned the food aid is influencing the decisions of households, such as the woman’s decision to take her daughter out of school and to send her back. So the food aid is highly appreciated by local officials and the population.

The second main theme I’d like to share with you is that the situation, in terms of the amount of WFP food aid going into the country these past several months, has been very good. We’ve been fortunate. We’ve been in a position to feed all 6.5 million intended beneficiaries – that’s about a third of the population – as a result of generous donations from Japan, ROK [Republic of Korea], others; we have had a very good what we call “pipeline” – stocks of food. That’s the good news.

The bad news is those stocks are close to running out. In fact, we have already had to make some cutbacks. We’ve stopped giving vegetable oil to 900,000 elderly people. As of next week we’ll have to stop providing vegetable oil rations to kindergarten children, nurseries and pregnant and nursing women. This vegetable oil is enriched with vitamins; it’s an extremely important part of the diet for people in the situation that they are in in North Korea. Withdrawing it doesn’t just make cooking more difficult; it actually has a very significant nutritional impact on the recipients. And that’s happening now.

In May, WFP will stop providing pulses to 1.2 million women and children; and in June, we’ll stop providing cereals – our main commodity – to about one million primary school children, pregnant and nursing women, elderly people and particularly vulnerable urban households. This is assuming we don’t get additional contributions very soon.

So, as good as things have been these past few months, they’re about to get much, much worse. The supplies from the crops that come in at the end of the year last a bit, but the lean season – the hardest season for people in North Korea in terms of food supply, when they have very little left over from the previous year’s crops – is just about to start. So it’s a very bad confluence of events where we’re about to run out of food, and they’re about to run out of their own food. Unless we get on a very urgent basis new contributions in the coming weeks, we’re going to face these very serious cuts that I was just mentioning. And in my view the impact of those cuts could be extremely tragic, truly tragic, for the families, the children, the elderly, the very vulnerable people who WFP is trying to reach.

The last issue that is very important to touch upon is the issue of monitoring, and WFP’s operating conditions. WFP has struggled with this issue from the first day we started working in the country in the mid-90s. It is a perpetual quest of ours to improve the monitoring conditions. In the course of 2003 and 2004 we had, in fact, made some great progress. We steadily increased the number of monitoring visits we were able to conduct. On average, over the years, it went from the low 200s to more than 500 visits per month. We were able to access much different kinds of information, a much wider variety of information. Not just how much food you need, but what your sources of income are, your sources of food – where else do you get food – what you are consuming, what you go forage for in the forest.

This gave us a much better understanding of household-level food security. WFP used to look at the food security issue from a national perspective: what’s the total national requirement, what’s the total national production, and then we’d look at helping to fill the gap. Now we are much more focused on household-level food security. What are individual households’ experiences, who are the most vulnerable – is it the elderly, is it the urban poor, is it the children, is it the pregnant women? And as a result of the improvements in our monitoring in 2003-2004, we have developed a much better understanding of that. So we are better able to target our assistance to the people who need it the most.

It seems, though, that as a result of the improvements in our monitoring, there were certain segments of the North Korean authorities that were uncomfortable with WFP activities: the very large number of visits we were making, the intrusiveness of those visits – our visits into households, the very detailed questions we were asking. We were told by the North Korean authorities that this was making the people uncomfortable, and some parts of the government itself uncomfortable. So they decided to change our operating conditions. And they started putting more limits, as of September of last year, on our operating conditions, on our monitoring. And, for instance, reduced the number of visits we’re able to make from more than 500 a month to down to around 300 a month. They also closed off some counties, although as I said our access to most has been re-established. They also told us we should not ask certain types of questions which were not directly related to food aid.

We understand their concerns. I understand if I was living in my country and some foreigner decided to come up unannounced to my front door and say “let me into your kitchen, I want to ask you a half-an-hour’s worth of detailed questions about you and your family and your family’s practices”, I’d have some doubts. So I understand that.

But we have also worked very hard to try to explain to the North Korean authorities the importance of having confidence that our food is reaching the people who need it. There are different ways to have that confidence. One way is to follow the type of practices we had in 2003-2004. But there are other ways. And in the past few months we have been having very intensive discussions with the North Korean authorities about different ways to develop the same or even greater confidence about how food aid is being used, where its going, instead of the past practice of these rather intrusive visits.

So, for instance, we are looking at having much more frequent visits to Public Distribution Centres. I indicated a few moments ago that those have been very limited. Now if we can go and observe people receiving assistance directly, and talk to them at the PDCs about their situation – similar types of questions but in a more public setting – that’s one way we can get information.

Another way we can get the required information is to have focus group discussions, where, instead of one person in her living room with three government officials and three WFP people there – a rather intimidating setting – we can gather a larger number of beneficiaries and talk to them in a group setting and allow them to talk among themselves, where they might be more confident in sharing common experiences.

Another important way that we expect to have this greater confidence in where food aid is going is through baseline surveys. Where, instead of doing household visits on a regular basis across the entire year, we would do three surveys a year. We would have household visits, but a rather intensive number over a short period.

The fourth and perhaps most important element of this new system that we are discussing with the government is a commodity tracking system, where we would use an internal technical logistics commodity tracking system that includes software – in WFP we call it COMPAS and use it around the world – that helps us track a bag of food aid from the point it enters the country to the point its distributed to the beneficiary. Technical logisticians can explain how this system works using computer tracking methods, where we know where the food is the whole way through the system.

We have discussed all of this with the North Korean authorities. They agree in principle on the need for us to have the confidence we demand on how the food aid is being used. They agree in principle to develop this new system, where we would have improved quality of monitoring, even if the quantity of visits is reduced. And they agree in principle with the elements that I have just mentioned. We are now in the process – our country team there, the country director Richard Ragan who I think some of you have met – are in the process now of trying to roll this out at the provincial level. Starting in April, officials from all the 158 counties where we deliver our assistance, where we have access, will be getting training from WFP on this new approach.

So it’s not a done deal yet. We have still to implement the agreement in principle. But I’m very pleased that the government has extended its agreement in principle, has shown its understanding of our need to have confidence in the use of the food aid. It’s a point that we have stressed in very explicit terms. And we have likewise stressed that if we do not have that confidence, WFP and our donors will perhaps not be in a position to provide the type of assistance we have been providing. But there is a high level of understanding, I would say, in the government on WFP’s position, and I’m cautiously confident, cautiously optimistic, that in the coming weeks and months we will have successful implementation of this new monitoring system.

I am also equally sure that there will be some adjustments and changes to it on the ground as we go into implementation. That’s to be expected, even desirable, if we can make some improvements on the ground. The key point, though, is whether WFP will in the end be able to say with confidence “we know how the food aid is being used”. If we are successful in implementing the agreement in principle, we will have a better understanding of the use of this food aid than before, as a result primarily of this commodity tracking system. We’ll have a better picture of the food aid from its entry into the country to its final consumption. What appeared to us to be a big problem in the latter part of last year has in fact turned into a very good opportunity for WFP. And I think we’ll emerge in a stronger position as a result of the changes.

I’d like to make two final comments and then open it up to you all for questions. In my conversations with the government we discussed the issue of OCHA, the [UN] Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs. It was reported in the press a few weeks back that the government had decided to close the OCHA office in Pyongyang. I was assured categorically and repeatedly by authoritative officials from the foreign ministry that there has been no decision to close the OCHA office in the DPRK. They made that very clear to me and asked me to pass that on to our colleagues at the UN in New York, Geneva and Rome, and also to all of you. The OCHA office in the DPRK is not being closed.

The DPRK government had said that they didn’t see a need for the OCHA official in Pyongyang, whose contract ends in August, to continue, because they thought that his role was just tied to the CAP [Consolidated Appeals Process], which the DPRK government has said they no longer want. When the acting Humanitarian Coordinator, Mr. Ragan, explained in greater detail to the government that the role of OCHA went beyond the CAP, they expressed understanding, and an openness and a willingness to allow an OCHA presence to continue in the country. This is an issue that will be discussed when a new UN Resident Coordinator/Humanitarian Coordinator arrives in the country in April. But as of now there is an OCHA official and there is no decision to close the OCHA office.

The last point I’d like to make is on issue which I’m frankly surprised continues to appear again and again in the press: reports of WFP food aid in the markets, and pictures of WFP food aid bags in the markets. This is nonsense. The economy in North Korea is so bad that they re-use everything. And the bags that WFP uses for food aid are very sturdy, heavy-duty bags that are designed to last a long time so they won’t burst open and have the food aid spill out and get wasted. These bags can last years and years. They are being used for all kinds of things in the DPRK. They are being used for tablecloths. Does this mean that WFP is providing tablecloths to the people of North Korea? No.

We saw in a warehouse a WFP bag that said “Wheat – Gift of Russia to the people of North Korea”, and it was filled with locally produced beans. They re-use these bags, and the fact that a WFP bag shows up in a market in North Korea or any other country does not in any way suggest WFP food aid is being diverted to the markets. And it is frankly irresponsible for people to suggest it does. Because it is ignoring completely the reality and the facts of how the economy works and the habits of people – which are to use every last item of value in the country they can. And these bags are, frankly, valuable items and do get re-used. I’m pleased they get re-used. It would be nonsensical to think that as soon as the food is consumed they’re somehow throwing these bags out. It’s simply not the case. So, for NGOs who constantly repeat this, I encourage you to ask any of them to go to North Korea and see for themselves – or you to see for yourselves – that this is just utter nonsense. And if any of you have a report and think this is happening, or are tempted to report it, please contact Mr [Gerald] Bourke [WFP Public Information Officer in Beijing] or myself and we’ll be happy to repeat that this is just not happening.

I’d be happy to answer any questions anyone might have. Thanks.

Morgenavisen Jyllands-Posten (Denmark): I noted you said that people in the cities have to rely either on food aid or relatives in the countryside. Does this mean that people in the countryside are better off than those in the cities?

Banbury: It’s a multi-tiered economy in North Korea. There is this thin stratum of elite that I referred to who are doing quite well. There then are the workers, basically, who were employed in factories and live in urban environments. Many of these factories are no longer producing anything. And these workers used to be able to rely upon a guaranteed state salary. That state salary is often no longer coming – they have to rely on the production of the factory to pay their salaries. If the factory is not producing, the salary’s not there. Many of these factories are sitting idle and the workers are in fact no longer even employed. These people are indeed very vulnerable. They’re a new category of vulnerable people that WFP started paying close attention to about a year ago, or 18 months ago, after these economic reforms.

In the countryside, it’s a real mixed story. The farmers tend to be better off, at least in terms of their food situation. We do not generally provide food assistance to farmers. Their daily ration from the government is 600 grams, compared to the 250 grams, or in some cases 200 grams, that other people get. 600 grams a day is probably still much less than any of us in this room consume, particularly if you consider all the commodities we consume – not just grain. But relative to other people in North Korea, the farmers tend to be better off. However, there’s an interesting dynamic occurring now, and this became apparent to us during our visit to the co-operative farm and talking to others: there is such a thing as a cash crop in North Korea now. That never existed in the past. Farmers can get more money producing vegetables, fruits, and selling those in the market, than in producing the staple grains such as maize or rice or potatoes.

There are people who are not in a good situation. This is particularly true of children, or elderly people. When we visit hospitals or “baby homes” [orphanages] and identify the particularly malnourished and ask where they’re from, it surprises us to find that sometimes they come from co-operative farms, farming families. And it’s a little unclear to me what is the explanation for that. Oftentimes malnutrition is as much a result of care practices as food availability. Its hygiene, its the diet itself – what is fed, not just the total quantity – but also are you trying to ensure that the children get some protein, some animal fat. So, as a general matter, farmers are the best off in terms of food. But it’s a mixed picture.

Public Radio International: The areas where WFP was cut off from monitoring: any idea why those particular areas were chosen? Do you think it was arbitrary, that the government was trying to make a point that it didn’t want you doing as much visiting as you had done? Or was there some reason why those particular areas were chosen?

Banbury: The short answer is we don’t know. We heard all kinds of speculation. None of it was based on reality as far as I could tell. It was a brief period of cut-off, and one of the interesting points that I should have mentioned earlier is that when WFP assistance was no longer being provided to those counties, the assistance was not made up by state authorities. We asked about that: How did you get by? Did you reduce the ration? Did you get more food? And, in fact, they just had to do with less. Which also tells you something. This area where we were is known for its production of tools. They don’t produce much food. It’s a very hilly, mountainous area, it’s a very food insecure area, and they trade tools with other provinces in exchange for grains. But they were not able to make up the difference at all, and they really suffered as a result. Which raises real concerns for us – they’re longstanding concerns – about the food security situation in the counties to which we don’t have access.

Public Radio International: Are you at all concerned that food aid is going to become a political tool as the United States and other countries start putting more pressure on North Korea to come back to negotiating table? You’re running out of stocks at the moment. How confident are you that the US and other major donors are going to continue to give the way they have been?

Banbury: WFP is of course always concerned if food aid is used in any way in a political manner. We believe strongly that decisions on food aid should be made on purely humanitarian grounds. The US has consistently said – the President of the United States has said, the Secretary of State has consistently said – they will not use food aid as a weapon. And I believe that is the United States policy. In our discussions with the US, they have repeatedly, repeatedly stressed the monitoring issue. As there have been problems, the US contributions have reflected those problems. I’m quite hopeful that, as we’re able to implement this new monitoring system I was talking about, the US will have the confidence that we have that its improved and they’ll give more than they have been giving. That’s certainly our hope and expectation.

Asahi Shimbun: North Korea cut the PDS ration from 300 to 250 grams. Why? Did North Korean officials give you an explanation?

Banbury: Its simply because they do not have enough food. Its lack of availability of food – food supply.

Asahi Shimbun: But according to WFP reports, harvests are better, no?

Banbury: There were also cuts last year. There are cuts basically every year, depending on the time of the year. It’s no surprise that they’ve cut it to 250. I think that’s something we more or less expected. It was just a question of when. And as I mentioned, in some cases the ration has been cut to 200 grams a day. That’s a very clear indication of the continued food shortages in the country. If they had the food – particularly now during the winter months, and its very cold there – they would be giving the food, I believe.

Asahi Shimbun: We can see this ration cut transferred to the army?

Banbury: WFP did not see that. I believe that the army is being well fed. It’s only natural to assume that the North Korean authorities are providing adequate food to their army. There’s a standing policy to put the needs of the army first. That’s the North Korean policy. So it only makes sense to assume that the army is being well fed.

One thing that’s very important for all of us to keep in mind is that food is needed in the country right now very badly. But it’s the people who need the food, not the government, and not the army. The government’s going to be okay; the army is going to be okay. I’m not worried about them. I am very worried about the people in North Korea, these very poor people in rural areas, in urban areas. Imagine eating maize porridge and dried acorn meal every day, day after day, and not having anything else to feed your child. Imagine not having fat or protein to feed your child. They’re in a very difficult situation.

EFE (Spanish news agency): You mention that North Korea is running out of food. Is WFP preparing any campaign to get more food from private donors? Are you going to call for more donations from the West – Europe, America – or other main donors like China, Japan, South Korea. My second question is: do you think the nuclear crisis is directly affecting the lives of the North Koreans?

Banbury: WFP will be appealing to a very wide cross-section of donors and potential donors to urgently provide new donations to our operation in North Korea. We particularly need cash donations, because we need cash to buy food in the region in order to get it into the country in time to avoid the looming cuts that I was talking about. We will be appealing to traditional donors. Though you mentioned China as a traditional donor, China has never provided any assistance through WFP to North Korea. But we will be talking to the main donors that we have traditionally relied upon. That’s the United States, South Korea and Japan. We have also received important donations in the past from the European Union, from Australia, from Italy and a number of others. So we will be appealing to the big donors, the medium donors, the little donors, and those who have not donated in the past.

And we will be appealing to the private sector in South Korea. We have started a campaign in South Korea to raise resources for the programme in North Korea. We believe that there is a strong sense of solidarity between the people in South Korea and the people in North Korea, and a concern among the people in South Korea for the situation of the average person in North Korea. His Excellency President Kim Dae Jung, former president of South Korea, has agreed to serve as the honorary chairman of the World Food Programme’s Senior Advisory Council in South Korea. This is a private sector grouping that will be working to raise funds from the private sector, and President Kim Dae Jung’s role in that is obviously a very important one.

With respect to your second question, it would really be political speculation for me, and I prefer to avoid the realm of politics as well as speculation, so I don’t feel comfortable answering your question. Just perhaps to make an appeal that, in making decisions on providing assistance to North Korea, humanitarian concerns take precedence, because as I said a moment ago, its not the government that needs the food, it’s the people of North Korea who need the food.

Associated Press: Two questions. The first is: we’ve heard about these economic reforms, and you mentioned them again today. Can you tell us whether you see that they are having an effect on the average North Korean, say, in food terms, the bottom 90 per cent? Do they appear to be having an influence on food production, food availability to the general public? Second, on the new monitoring system: it sounds as if you’re settling in for the very long term. Do you see this situation in North Korea just becoming a decades-long situation where the outside world is going to have to continue to feed ordinary North Koreans? Or do you see a time when North Korea can produce enough or buy enough from abroad to feed its people?

Banbury: With respect to your first question, there clearly is a very significant impact. In fact, there are many different kinds of impacts. The main one, though, is that salaries of workers, government officials etc. have risen, giving them more income. But prices of basic commodities – foodstuffs – have risen much more dramatically. So their purchasing power has decreased. They’re less able to buy things. That’s very clear. The prices of foodstuffs have doubled, tripled, quadrupled. The prices of staples, vegetable oil, meat, the high-value items. For people who are able to benefit from the economy somehow – the winners – they’re able to make money, whether its from working in a restaurant, or through trading, then they’re doing okay. But for people who are relying upon traditional income sources, they’re clearly in a worse position. And that’s making us think that – and in fact this relates to your second question – maybe instead of 6.5 million people, WFP should be feeding 7.5 or 8.5 million people in North Korea. Because the number 6.5 million more or less is the same as we were providing assistance to when the reforms were implemented. And the number of winners compared to the number of losers in the economy as a result of these reforms is much smaller.

With respect to your second question, it’s always the happiest day of WFP’s involvement in a country when it’s no longer needed there. In the case of China – we have been providing assistance in China for 25 years – assistance will end this year. WFP will no longer provide humanitarian assistance in China after 2005. And that’s a great thing. In the case of DPRK, one day we will stop providing assistance there. In some countries – Ethiopia, for example – it’s gone on for decades and decades. I hope that won’t be the case in the DPRK. But until there are significant changes in the economy that allow people to earn a living wage and provide for their families, I think our assistance will be required. And its absence would be a very serious hardship on literally millions and millions of people. I hope its not long, I hope its next year that we can leave. My guess is it’ll be a little more than that.

Danish Radio: You said maybe you should be feeding 7.5 million, or 8.5 million. Why is the number still 6.5 million?

Banbury: The number this year is in fact larger than last year. The number is based on our best assessment of the economic conditions in the country and the most vulnerable people. We are providing assistance now to especially vulnerable urban households, which is a new category of beneficiaries for WFP. Two years ago we were not providing assistance to them because they had this guaranteed state salary, and prices were flat. So our numbers do change according to circumstances. Each year we come up with a new programme for the next year on how many people we think need our assistance. Depending on developments this year, and on our assessment that will be done in September-October, we may well change that.

But it will also depend to a very large degree on the government. And as I repeatedly stressed to the officials there, they need to help us help them – help their people. They have to create the necessary conditions to allow us to operate with confidence. And if they do not do so, then it would be harder to justify continued increases in the numbers of people. It would be easy to justify in terms of their need. It would be harder to justify to our donors why we would want to continue to expand if the North Korean authorities are trying to constrict our operating conditions. But, based on my cautious optimism that we will have a better monitoring system in place in the coming weeks and months, and the changing economic conditions, next year we may well try to provide assistance to more.

Danish Radio: How many more?

Banbury: It’s too early to tell. It’s a very technical assessment. It’s based on visits to all the provinces, it’s based on a crop assessment, its based on analysis of all the household visits we do. We don’t just whistle it up – it’s a scientific assessment.

Deutsche Presse-Agentur (German news agency): Two questions: Do you have any numbers now for the inflation rate? And what about the exchange rate – black market and official rate, the difference? And the second question: last year Japan gave a very generous donation to the WFP programme, I think because of the Koizumi visit at that time. So at that time I think somehow political considerations influenced WFP in a very positive way. But that also means that maybe political considerations can influence WFP’s programme this year in a negative way.

Banbury: We have some pretty good statistics on inflation that we can share with you after the meeting. I don’t have them in front of me. And it varies very much according to the commodity. Some commodities have seen very steep rises; some have seen more moderate rises. But we can give you the specifics.

In terms of the [market] exchange rate, I think it’s about 3,000 won per euro, and the official rate is 180 won to the euro.

The average salary for a worker or mid-level government official is about 2,000 won per month – less than a euro at the market rate. Think about getting by on a euro a month. Okay, prices are lower there, but they’re not that much lower. A euro a month, and that rice a day [points to glass of rice] – these people are suffering. People have talked about how the situation is improving, they’re producing more food – but the people we saw, their situation is not improving.

With respect to your second question: the government of Japan announced a very generous donation last year – 250,000 tonnes, which is equal to basically half our annual requirement. They have so far provided 125,000 tonnes, half of what they promised. We hope very much that they will soon be in a position to provide the other half. Obviously we’re having discussions with them about that, the second half of the contribution.

Different governments decide to provide assistance for different reasons. For WFP – a humanitarian organisation, with only humanitarian considerations – we are very grateful for Japan’s contribution. We understand that the Japanese government and the Japanese people have certain concerns and sensitivities with respect to their bilateral relations and the issue of Japanese people who are missing, who have been abducted. Those are very understandable, legitimate concerns, and it’s not for WFP to question them. We respect whatever decision the government will take. But we hope they will provide the second half of the contribution.

Agence France Presse: I’m wondering why the market-driven reforms for the agricultural sector don’t lead to an increase in production, since now they’re also allowed to raise cash crops and sell in the markets. It’s a little bit the same thing that happened in China 20 years ago. But then, at the same time, why is production of food in general not increasing?

Banbury: I can guess, and give you my best sense. I may be wrong, though. It’s my impression that there’s not necessarily increased production, but a diversified production. The grain supply may be more or less stable, but where there is an ability to produce more, farmers are increasingly interested in producing cash crops – something they can go sell in the market and don’t need to turn over to the state at a lower price. I think farmers are also, if they’re able to meet their quota – this is just sort of common sense, based on human nature – rather than put in more effort to produce additional stocks for the government that they’ll get little benefit from, they’ll diversify and produce cash crops either on the co-operative farm, that keeps some of it, or on their own family plots. There are a lot more family gardens now than there used to be, where families, anyone who has a little land, are growing something. For their own consumption, or to sell in the market if they have enough. The production is being diversified and channeled into the private markets. As I said earlier, the total grain supply, I don’t think, is growing. I don’t know if it’ll shrink, but there’s more attention into these other areas.

In addition, there are still very severe shortages of inputs into the farming sector. Fertiliser is a big problem this year. Fuel for tractors: big, big problem. Tractors themselves certainly a big problem, for lack of spare parts. And even when they produce, their post-harvest losses tend to be very high because of lack of equipment to move the crops from the field into the storage facilities, and lack of adequate storage facilities. So, to produce more and more grain, they might have a point of diminishing returns because they’re frankly not able to get it into storage facilities, and store it. That’s my impression. I’m not an expert. I may be wrong, as I said. But I think that’s what’s happening.

Kyodo News: My question is regarding North Korea’s attitude towards international aid. I’ve heard that from September they began calling for longer- term development aid, and that may be why you have problems with monitoring. Did you notice any changes in their attitude, or is that still what they’re saying?

Banbury: The North Korean authorities still say that they would like to transition to more long-term development assistance. However, at the same time, they reaffirm their commitment to humanitarian assistance – certainly WFP humanitarian assistance. They want us to meet the entire target that we have for the year; they want us to bring in all the food that we’ve said we will try to bring in. They are trying to improve our operating conditions. So they remain quite committed to the WFP programme, even though I think it would be their preference to transition to more development assistance. But to achieve that, they’re going to have to convince some donors that that’s the way to go. I think they’re going to continue receiving humanitarian assistance – and wanting to receive it – until they successfully make that transition. And so far, the development assistance isn’t there.

Deutsche Presse-Agentur: Do you think that in the next couple of months the Public Distribution System will maybe run out of stocks?

Banbury: I don’t think the Public Distribution System will entirely run out. I think it’s entirely possible that the ration will be reduced further: 250 grams down to 200, or whatever; fewer commodities. But I think its unlikely, in my experience, to my knowledge of the past, they’ve never totally stopped. So that’s probably unlikely. But WFP assistance, that could completely run out. So much of that assistance is going to really vulnerable populations. Kids who should not be eating only maize; kids who really need protein. You go to these “baby homes”, these orphanages and schools, and you know…Someone once said “a hungry child knows no politics”, and its clear that those kids need assistance. And the elderly too. I mean, my goodness, these elderly people…it breaks your heart to see them…eating maize and acorn meal.

Deutsche Presse-Agentur: One more question, on the nuclear issue. There’s been a kind of hardening of the political attitude of the North Korean government. In your talks with the North Korean side, did you discover a similar hardening? Is the political climate different now than before?

Banbury: The climate for WFP, I think, is better now than it was eight months ago, or seven months ago. There was a period in the latter third of last year, where, as a result I think of several factors, the overall climate became more difficult. And WFP was impacted by that. But as a result of very determined efforts on the part of WFP and our team in Pyongyang, the government understands that we are not a political actor; we are a humanitarian actor with a humanitarian agenda, who is really trying to help needy North Korean people. And they appreciate that, I believe. As a result, we enjoy quite good support from our interlocutors in the government. Of course, we do not meet with all segments of the government. There are different parts of the government with different responsibilities. But with the part that we’re working with, I think, the relationship is better. They were a bit caught, perhaps, in the past. The fact that they’re now able to work in a more constructive manner with us on technical matters suggests that perhaps there’s a generally improved climate.

Thank you very much.

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North Korea’s antique food rationing

Saturday, January 15th, 2005

Asia Times
Andrei Lankov
1/15/2005

Travelers’ tales told by those who escape to South Korea are among the only sources of information about North Korea. And now, those who make their way to the South are talking about the end of the Public Distribution System (PDS), the rationing system that was supposed to ensure food security. No more.

When in 2002 the North Korean government introduced what the foreign media chose to describe as “reform measures”, one of the components of new policy was a dramatic reduction of the PDS. However, from reports about the so-called “1st of July measures”, many foreign readers and and observers got an impression that the PDS was introduced by Pyongyang during escalating food shortages some time in the early 1990s. This was not the case. As a matter of fact, the PDS has been a quintessential feature of North Korean life for many decades.

To some extent, this reflected a peculiarity of the centrally planned economy. In such an economy, prices are fixed, so demands and supply cannot be balanced by price fluctuation in a “natural” way as in a market economy. Therefore, governments that adopted central planning nearly always had to step in and start deciding how to distribute scarce goods. But in most communist countries, only the more prestigious and valuable goods were subject to rationing and distribution. In the former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the comprehensive rationing system ceased to operate in the late 1940s, although from the 1970s it was partially reborn under the pressure of mounting economic problems. In most communist countries of Eastern Europe, food was no longer rationed from around 1950.

In North Korea, rationing was first introduced in 1946, initially only for the employees of state companies. By the mid-1950s, this group of beneficiaries included 3 million to 3.4 million people, a majority of the entire population at the time, according to a Soviet intelligence report. In those days, the daily rations included 600-900 grams of grain per working adult, depending on the type of job and its exertion and calorie demands. These norms were to remain essentially unchanged for the next four decades.

The Public Distribution System was augmented by free trade, conducted both at the markets and in private shops. However, in December 1957 free trade in grain was outlawed: all cereals were to be distributed through the PDS only. It seems that this ban was enforced quite efficiently, so until the late 1980s, few if any North Koreans would dare sell or buy grain on the market. In 1957-58 the authorities closed down all private shops and undertook an unsuccessful attempt to get rid of private markets as well.

Throughout the 1960s, less and less could be bought and sold freely in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK). Soy sauce, cabbage, radishes and other basic ingredients of Koreans’ staple food could not be bought without rationing coupons in the state shops, which eventually became distribution points rather than centers of retail. From around 1970, almost nothing except stationery and books could be purchased without producing a ration coupon. Of course, there were markets, even if in the late 1960s they were almost exterminated as well. However, markets were not flourishing, and prices there were exorbitant. Back in 1985, a chicken would cost some 40 won (at today’s exchange rate about US$18), more than half of the average monthly salary.

Meanwhile, official prices of cereals and other daily necessities were kept at a very low level, providing North Korean propaganda with good material for boasting. For decades, one kilogram of rice cost 0.08 won (over this time, the average monthly salary increased from about 50 to about 100 won). But the prices did not matter much: even if a person had money, he or she could not buy more than was allowed by the state.

Actually, trade in a normal sense of the word nearly ceased to exist in North Korea in the 1960s. As Nickolas Eberstadt, the world’s leading expert on the North Korean economy, put it: “Clearly, the medium of domestic currency was almost marginal to the operation of the DPRK economy … In this respect, the DPRK is an extreme outlier from the modern economic experience. The only other economy to come close would be Cambodia in the late 1970s, under the dark days of the Khmer Rouge, when the Pol Pot leadership simply abolished money for a time.”

Basically, every North Korean, including inmates of mushrooming prison camps, was entitled to a certain amount of cereals. The largest amount, 900g daily, was reserved for workers engaged in hard manual labor: steelworkers, miners, loggers and others. A majority of the population was entitled to a daily ration of 700g. College and high-school students were given 600g and younger students received 300-400g, depending on their age. Retirees were also entitled to 300g of cereals. The North Koreans were given some other foodstuffs – cabbage, soy sauce and other products – but in terms of nutrition almost all calories in their diet came from rice and other cereals.

The rice rations were paid every 15th day. On an established day, a family representative, usually a housewife, since it was daytime, went to the distribution center with her identification and rationing coupons for her entire family. She produced the coupons, paid the token price and then took home the rice for the next two weeks.

Rations consisted of a mix of different grains. In the 1970s, in Pyongyang rice represented as much as 70% of the allowance, but even in those relatively prosperous times, in more remote areas rations consisted entirely of corn and barley, which have fewer calories than rice – but excessive weight has never been a problem in North Korea. The proportions between rice and other less valuable kinds of grains depended largely on one’s place of residence, with Pyongyang and other major cities being most privileged.

But what about meat and fish? Well, there were no regular norms for providing these luxuries. As a rule, a family was issued about a kilogram of meat two or three times a year, normally on the eve of major holidays – especially North Korean founder Kim Il-sung’s birthday. Milk was provided to schoolchildren in Pyongyang in very small quantities. Sugar was dropped from the rations in the early 1970s, and since then could be bought only by lucky owners of foreign currency (for a hyper-Stalinist regime, North Korea always had a remarkably relaxed currency-control system). Admittedly, fish was more available, but still not a part of daily diet.

Liquor and tobacco were rationed as well. A commoner was entitled to have booze a few times a year, before the major official holidays. On the eve of an official holiday, commoners were issued rationing coupons that allowed them to buy one bottle of soju (a traditional Korean liquor) and three bottles of beer. In case of some family event, people had to go to a local office and petition, then they were issued “special liquor coupons”. To prove their eligibility, they had to produce an official certificate confirming that their family was indeed having a wedding or a funeral. The norm was five bottles per family.

The Public Distribution System dealt not only with foodstuffs but also with consumables. Some durables were simply outside the system – for example, refrigerators, which were seen as an ultimate luxury item, a North Korean analogue to a sports car. But some other durables, such as color television sets, were distributed to people via long waiting lists. Normally, distribution of such goods was handled by their work units, with the party secretary being in a position to deny or speed up access.

Of course, the North Korean elite took good care of themselves. The cadres were entitled to special rations that were much more generous than those accorded to the humble folk – and also included goods of higher quality.

In general, the system worked – at least as long as the North Koreans were separated from the outside world and could not compare their lives with the lives of people in more prosperous countries (actually, official propaganda insisted that there was no more prosperous country than North Korea). The private markets, even when they were finally re-legalized around 1969, remained marginal to the economy. Common people went there only on special occasions.

Actually, the ration of 700g a day might appear generous, at least concerning calories. However, even in the late 1970s, malnutrition was not unknown in North Korea. The reason is that the official 700g was increasingly a theoretical norm.

The first downsizing of the rations took place in 1973 when the country’s economic growth began to decelerate. In September 1973 it was declared that “due to the dangerous international situation” the rations would be reduced: every fortnight two daily rations would be sacrificed for the strategic reserves. In 1989 the rations were cut further – by 10%: this was necessary, the authorities explained, to prepare the country for the forthcoming International Youth Festival. In 1992 a new 10% cut was imposed. These cuts meant that on the eve of North Korea’s Great Famine of 1995-99, the average worker received less than 500g of cereals. A retiree had to subsist on 220g – not exactly a generous amount.

From 1992 the North Korean media began to explain that for better health one only had to have two meals a day (the tradition of three meals was described as excessive and unhealthy). In those times people in some remote areas could not get food. They were still issued rationing coupons, but actual delivery of rations was delayed for days, and then for weeks.

And then came the real catastrophe. In July and August 1995, unusually heavy rains led to disastrous floods. The authorities blamed the floods for all subsequent food disasters, though in fact the situation had been deteriorating from the mid-1980s.

In 1996, the country harvested some 3 million tons of grain – just above half of the pre-crisis level. In the new situation no rations could be delivered. By 1996 the distribution of food stopped throughout the countryside, with people Pyongyang and some other major cities getting half of what they used to receive in better times.

The Public Distribution System survived in some areas longer than in others. In 1999-2000 South Korean sociologists conducted a large-scale survey of North Korean defectors in China. One of the questions was “when did the PDS cease to function in your native county?” Some 23.5% said this happened in 1993 or before, 40.9% said 1994 and 31.5% told the pollsters that the rations were no longer delivered in 1995. The survey needs some correction, since most of its participants came from northern provinces that were hit much harder than central or southern parts of the country. In all probability, the nationwide result would be different, with delivery stopped in most areas around 1995 or 1996, rather than 1993 or 1994. But it was stopped in any case, and the population was left to its own devices for survival.

The collapse of the PDS in 1993-95 is remembered by most North Koreans as a turning point in their lives. The events are often described as having taken place “before the distribution ended” or “before the distribution ended”. Indeed, the end of the PDS (which was never formally abolished) heralded the start of a new life. Old certainties were gone, and nobody could take for granted even one’s own physical survival.

Markets spread across entire country, with the population engaged in trade and handicraft. The old government economy collapsed, with the country’s gross national product shrinking some 50% over a decade. And finally, in 2002, the “July reforms” heralded that the North Korean government finally admitted the situation that had existed for a few years. Retail prices of basic goods and services were increased dramatically, obviously in an attempt to approximate the market prices. Thus one kilogram of rice, which used to cost 0.08 won, has since July 2002 cost 44 won, or some 550 times as much. Wages have risen as well. It was estimated that the average increase in wages has been approximately 2,500% (that is, 25 times). At the same time, prices have increased 30-40 times.

These changes were widely interpreted as a sign of reforms. They can be better described as a reluctant admission of the facts that North Korean leader Kim Jong-Il and his government could not possibly change.

Perhaps the fate of the Public Distribution System is yet another confirmation of this collapsing state of affairs. When in the spring of 2004 the South Korean media printed reports about complete abolition of the system, the North Korean officials denied this. However, nowadays the PDS operates only in major urban centers inhabited by more privileged groups – exactly as it did from around 1996. These groups have to be kept content, and they are still enjoying access to some amount of almost free food.

And what about others, the majority of the population? They have to go to the markets even if a monthly salary of a university professor is not sufficient to buy seven kilograms of rice. But nobody in North Korea lives on official salary these days. Well, almost nobody – apart from the privileged few who receive high salaries, often in hard currency. Paradoxically, they are often the people who still can use the Public Distribution System.

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Through a glass, darkly

Thursday, March 11th, 2004

The Economist
3/11/2004

So far as a visitor can tell in this secretive land, North Korea’s economic reforms are starting to bite. But real progress will require better relations with the outside

COMMUNIST North Korea has started to experiment with economic reform, and opened its door a crack to the outside world. Though its culture of secrecy and suspicion stubbornly persists, it was deemed acceptable for your correspondent to visit Pyongyang’s Tongil market last week. Here, stalls are bursting with plump vegetables and groaning with stacks of fresh meat. You can even buy imported pineapples and bananas from enthusiastic private traders.

But how about a photograph? Most foreigners think of North Korea as a famished nation, and the authorities are evidently keen these days to tell the world about the great strides their economy has made since reforms were introduced in July 2002. Logic might seem to suggest that a snap showing the palpable result of the reforms would be acceptable too. But it is not. The officials were friendly but firm: no pictures of fat carrots.

The July 2002 reforms were ground-breaking for North Korea: the first real step away from central planning since the dawn of communism there in 1945. The government announced that subsidies to state-owned enterprises were to be withdrawn, workers would be paid according to how much they produced, farmers’ markets, hitherto tolerated, would become legal and state enterprises would be allowed to sell manufactured products in markets. Most of these enterprises, unless they produced “strategic items”, were to get real autonomy from state control.

Almost two years on, how to assess the success or failure of these reforms? That climate of secrecy makes it deeply frustrating. Even the simplest of statistics is unavailable. Li Gi Song, a senior economist at Pyongyang’s Academy of Sciences, says he does not know the rate of inflation. Or maybe he is not telling. After all, he says, “We can’t publish all the figures because we don’t want to appear bare before the United States. If we are bare then they will attack us, like Afghanistan or Iraq.” So what follows can be little more than a series of impressions.

The indications are that the reforms are having a big impact. For a start, North Korea has recently acquired its first advertisement (pictured above)—for foreign cars, assembled locally by a South Korean majority-owned company. Or, to be more basic, take the price of rice, North Korea’s staple. Before the reforms, the state bought rice from state farms and co-operatives at 82 chon per kilo (100 chon make one won, worth less than a cent at the official exchange rate). It then resold it to the public through the country’s rationing system at eight chon. Now, explains Mr Li, the state buys at 42 won and resells at 46 won.

North Korea’s rationing system is called the Public Distribution System (PDS). Every month people are entitled to buy a certain amount of rice or other available staples at the protected price. Thus most North Koreans get 300g (9oz) of rice a day, at 46 won a kilo. According to the UN’s World Food Programme (WFP), that is not nearly enough. Anything extra has to be bought in the market.

In theory, even in the market the price of staples is limited. Last week, the maximum permitted rice price was marked on a board at the entrance to Tongil as 240 won per kilo. In fact, it was selling for 250. WFP officials say that in January it was selling for 145 won, which points to significant inflation, for rice at least. This is not necessarily a bad thing, since it means that the price is coming into line with the market.

The won’s international value is also adjusting. Since December 2002, the euro has been North Korea’s official currency for all foreign transactions. In North Korean banks, one euro buys 171 won. In fact, this rate is purely nominal. A semi-official rate now exists and the price of imports in shops is calculated using this.

Last October, according to foreign diplomats, a euro bought 1,030 won at the semi-official rate. Last week it was 1,400. A black market also exists, in which the euro is reported to be fetching 1,600 won—which implies that the won is approaching its market level. It also means, however, that imported goods have seen a big price-hike. For domestically-produced goods, like rice, prices may well go on rising for a good while longer.

What about earnings? Before the 2002 reforms, most salaries lay in the range of 150-200 won per month. Rent and utilities, though, were virtually free, as were (and are) education and health care. Food, via the PDS, was virtually given away. Now, pay is supposed to be linked to output, though becoming more productive is not easy for desk-bound civil servants or workers in factories that have no power, raw materials or markets.

Rents and utilities have gone up, though not by crippling amounts. A two-bedroom flat in Pyongyang including electricity, water and heat costs just 150 won a month—that is, about a tenth of a euro.

Earnings have gone up much more: a waitress in a Pyongyang restaurant earns about 2,200 won a month. A mid-ranking government official earns 2,700. A worker at a state farm earns in the region of 1,700, a kindergarten teacher the same, and a pensioner gets between 700 and 1,500. A seamstress in a successful factory with export contracts can earn as much as 5,000 won a month. Since that seamstress’s pay equates to barely three euros a month, wages still have a long way to adjust.

The prices of food and other necessities, to say nothing of luxuries, has gone up much more than rent has. According to the WFP, some 70% of the households it has interviewed are dependent on their 300 gram PDS ration, and the WFP itself is targeting 6.5m vulnerable people out of a total population of some 23m. Not all suffer equally: civil servants in Pyongyang get double food rations from the PDS.

There are some encouraging stories. In Pukchang, a small industrial town 70km (40 miles) north-east of Pyongyang, Concern, an Irish aid group, has been replacing ancient, leaking and broken-down water pipes and pumps, and modernising the purification system. This has pushed the amount of clean water available per person per day from 80 to 300 litres. Kim Chae Sun is a manager at the filtration plant, which is now more efficient. Before July 2002 she earned 80 won a month. Afterwards she earned 3,000 won. Now she earns 3,500.

As Mrs Kim speaks, three giant chimneys belch smoke from the power station that dominates the town. All workers have been told they can earn more if they work harder, but certain groups have been told they will get even more money than everyone else. In energy-starved North Korea these include miners and power workers. Mrs Kim says her husband, who works in the power plant, earns an average of 12,000 won a month. Her rent has gone up from eight to 102 won a month, and in a year, she thinks, she will be able to buy a television or a fridge.

A lot of people, in fact, are buying televisions. The women who sell the sets from crowded Tongil market-stalls get them from trading companies which they pay after making a sale. The company price for an average set is 72,000 won, the profit just 1,000 won. After they have paid for their pitch, the traders can expect an income of 10,000-12,000 won a month.

Mystery sales
Which makes for a puzzle. Who can afford a good month’s salary for a locally made jacket in Tongil, costing 4,500 won? How come so many people are buying televisions, which cost more than two years of a civil-servant’s pay? How come the number of cars on the streets of the capital has shot up in the past year? Pyongyang still has vastly less traffic than any other capital city on earth, but there are far more cars around than a year ago. Restaurants, of which there are many, serve good food—but a meal costs the equivalent of at least a white-collar worker’s monthly salary. Many of these restaurants are packed.

Foreign money is part of it. Diplomats and aid workers say many new enterprises seem to have opened over the last year. Nominally they are state-owned, but sometimes they have a foreign partner, often an ethnic Korean from Japan. The majority are in the import-export business. Some have invested in restaurants and hotels and some in light industry. Thanks to the 2002 reforms, these firms have a degree of autonomy they could not have dreamed of before. An unknown number of people also receive money from family abroad, but there are still no North Korean-owned private companies.

Farmers are among the other winners: they can sell any surpluses on the open market. But two out of three North Koreans live in towns and cities, and only 18% of the country is suitable for agriculture. The losers include civil servants, especially those outside Pyongyang who do not get double food rations and have no way to increase their productivity.

Factory workers have it the hardest. A large proportion of industry is obsolete. Though Pyongyang has electricity most of the day, much of the rest of the country does not. Despite wild talk of a high-tech revolution, the country is not connected to the internet, though some high-ups do have access to e-mail service. In the east of the country lies a vast rustbelt of collapsing manufacturing plants.

Huge but unknown numbers of workers have been moved into farming, even though every scrap of available land is already being cultivated. The extra workers are needed because there is virtually no power for threshing and harvesting and no diesel for farm vehicles. This requires more work to be done by hand. Ox-carts are a common sight.

The innocent suffer
Markets are everywhere. But this does not mean that there is enough food everywhere. In Pyongyang, where there are better-off people to pay for it, there is an ever-increasing supply. Outside the capital, shortages are widespread.

No one knows how many died during the famine years of 1995-99; estimates range from 200,000 to 3m. In Pukchang, officials say that 5% of children are still weak and malnourished. In Hoichang, east of Pyongyang, schools and institutions tell the WFP that about 10% of children are malnourished. Masood Hyder, the senior UN official in North Korea, says that vulnerable households now spend up to 80% of their income on food.

And yet some things are improving. Two surveys carried out in 1998 and 2002 by the North Korean government together with the WFP and Unicef showed a dramatic improvement in children’s health between those years. The proportion of children who fail to reach their proper height because of malnutrition fell from 62% to 39%, and the figures are thought to be still better now. However, Unicef says that though children may no longer die of hunger, they are still dying from diarrhoea and respiratory diseases—which are often a side-effect of malnutrition.

To a westerner’s eye, a class of 11-year-olds in Hoichang is a shocking sight. At first, your correspondent thought they were seven; the worst-affected look to be only five. Ri Gwan Sun, their teacher, says that apart from being stunted some of them still suffer from the long-term effects of malnutrition. They struggle to keep up in sports and are prone to flu and pneumonia. They are also slower learners.

Pierrette Vu Thi of Unicef says that North Korea’s poor international image makes it hard for her agency, the WFP and others to raise all the money they need. The country is in a chronic state of emergency, she says, and to get it back on its feet it would need a reconstruction effort on the scale of Afghanistan and Iraq.

Such bleak talk is echoed by Eigil Sorensen of the World Health Organisation. He says that health services are extremely limited outside the capital. Medicines and equipment are in short supply, large numbers of hospitals no longer have running water or heating and the country has no capacity to handle a major health crisis.

None of this is likely to change very fast. With no end yet to the nuclear stand-off between North Korea and the United States, American and Japanese sanctions will remain in place. And nukes are only part of it. Last week the American State Department said it was likely that North Korea produced and sold heroin and other narcotics abroad as a matter of state policy. North Koreans who have fled claim that up to 200,000 compatriots are in labour camps. North Korea denies it all.

Reform, such as it is, has plainly made life easier for many. But rescuing the North would take large amounts of foreign money, as well as measures more far-reaching than have yet been attempted. At present, there is no way for the government to get what it needs from international financial institutions like the World Bank. Such aid as comes will be strictly humanitarian, and investment in so opaque a country will never be more than tentative. Domestic reform on its own cannot fix an economy wrecked by decades of mismanagement and the collapse of communism almost everywhere else.

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