Should food aid to North Korea continue?

By Tong Kim

Last week the Guardian, a well-known British daily, published a panel discussion of experts about whether the U.N.’s World Food Program (WFP) should end its humanitarian food aid for North Korea. The WFP has been the largest consistent food provider since the 1994 North Korean famine, at times feeding up to a third of the population.

Food provision to the North, whether by WFP, humanitarian NGOs or the South Korean government, has typically involved controversy over the North Korean government’s priority in allocating resources to military armament ― including its nuclear and missile programs that threaten its neighbors ― instead of investing in agriculture, food production or importing food to feed its people.

Critics further argue that giving food aid or any other economic assistance frees the North Korean regime to use more resources ― which might have helped feed its people ― to further bolster its nuclear and missile programs.

To survive the earlier famine crisis that resulted from multiple causes ― including the regime’s heavy emphasis on the military, failed crops and natural disasters such as droughts and floods ― the North Korean authorities welcomed the WFP’s assistance. At first, the organization was given relative, open access to inspect food distribution within the secluded nation. But over time, the WFP’s attempts to monitor food distribution have become more stringent, with the North denying full access and transparency as to how food aid is being distributed.

For the food donors, it is important to make sure that the food is being distributed to the intended recipients. There were reports that some aid was diverted to the military and other unintended parties. While these instances were not officially confirmed, it is safe to say that most of the food did end up in the hands of poor North Koreans.

North Korea’s so-called self-sufficient economy failed decades ago, with poverty still endemic today. Yet the Kim Jong-un regime is spending tens to hundreds of millions of dollars to build ski slopes and water parks for Pyongyang’s privileged elite. As the average citizen lives close to starvation, the regime continues to import luxury goods for the chosen elite, and continues the personality cult surrounding its leaders.

Among the malnourished general population, one in every four children under the age of five has stunted growth, childbirth mortality rates are high, and many people do not get proper medical care.

There is genuine need for humanitarian assistance for these humans, who should not be penalized because of their leader’s policies, over which they have no control.

“It is an ethical conundrum,” says long-time North Korean economy watcher Marcus Nolan of the Peterson Institute for International Economies. “We should provide assistance,” he adds, “but we should be clear about the terms of that engagement and seek to provide aid in ways consistent with our values and obligations.”

Nobody knows how the North Korean dynasty will evolve or change. However, history is a good guide to Koreans’ resilience and adaptability. In the ’90s when the North’s ration system collapsed, people whose livelihoods were neglected formed unauthorized markets called ``jangmadang’’ to counter the worsening famine.

Traditionally, a jangmadang used to be held once every five to 10 days to buy, sell or exchange food, livestock, handmade goods, or manufacture items. This practice disappeared after a socialist economy model was adapted in the North. There is a saying in Korean, “No cobweb shall be woven on the lips of a living person,” meaning there is always a way to find food under any circumstance.

The North’s famished people reinvented the jangmadang to replace the public ration system that broke down. By 1998, about 300 such private markets were set up throughout the country.

As the power of the market started being felt in North Korean society to the detriment of the socialist state ideology, the regime tried to suppress the markets, but failed.

Today the jangmadang serve as a venue to exchange daily necessities as well as information about the outside world. More than that, the market has become a place to make money and to practice capitalism.

In 2009, in a bid to stop the proliferation of “capitalists” and deprive them of their money, the regime unsuccessfully tried to reform its currency, resulting in uncontrollable inflation and growing discontent. Due to the failed attempts to curb and shut down these private people-made entities, the markets are still thriving today. According to one statistic, 70 percent of the population depends on the jangmadang for food.

Since the June 28, 2013 announcement of a “new economic management policy,” it appears the limited market system is becoming an integral part of the North’s economic system.

The backbone of the “new capitalists” comes largely from the lowest class of social stratification ― namely families whose members fled to the South during or after the Korean War, as compared to those whose family members who fought for the North, who are treated favorably for public jobs and enjoy upward mobility.

It is true that the WFP is fighting donor fatigue for North Korea, which is not the only country that needs food assistance. Many observers believe the WFP aid may end after decades of engagement with the North, unless the secluded country shows it is willing to make further changes. If the WFP aid ends, one thing is certain ― more people will depend on the unofficial markets that continue to pop up in the North. What’s your take?

The author is a visiting scholar at the Ilmin Institute of International Relations at Korea University, a visiting professor at the University of North Korean Studies and an ICAS fellow in the United States.