The prolonging detention of a South Korean worker in Gaeseong Industrial Complex by North Korea is causing suspicion about Pyongyang's intentions.
More seriously, the North has not allowed any access to the 44-year-old employee of Hyundai Asan, the operator of the joint industrial zone in the border town, since it unilaterally brought him into custody four days ago, merely repeating there is no cause for concern over his health or safety.
Pyongyang says ― also unilaterally ― the man in question has criticized the North's political system and ``instigated the defection of a female North Korean worker by subverting her." But managers of the South Korean company have no idea what actually happened between their employee and the North Korean workers.
All this is not right and hardly imaginable in a ``normal" society. No matter what was wrong with the Hyundai employee, Pyongyang should at least respect his basic rights and allow interviews with company officials and legal experts.
Managers at Hyundai say there have been similar incidents before, but unlike in the past, the North Korean authorities seem to have decided to handle the latest one in strict accordance with the communist country's legal system, triggering one to ask ``why now?"
Which drives us to another suspicion; that the isolationist regime is using the case, along with one involving two American reporters arrested over the frozen Tumen River on the Sino-Korean border, as ``bargaining chips" in negotiations with the United States and South Korea expected to take place in the wake of the North's rocket launch days later. The longer their detention, the stronger will such suspicion become.
The two U.S. journalists will reportedly be indicted and tried on charges of perpetrating ``hostile acts" or even ``spying" against the communist state, which, if true, should force us to change our notions about espionage activities and agents. What should one call spies walking across a border filming enemy states in broad daylight?
Whatever Pyongyang aims for with the prolonged internment of seemingly hapless victims, its acts will do more harm than good in the long run, aggravating the already unfavorable impression of it in the international community.
Maybe all this ratcheting up of tension abroad is aimed at the domestic audience to help smooth the third dynastic succession of power to one of Kim Jong-il's son, as our columnist Michael Breen points out on this page. For North Korean leadership, nothing would be more important than systemic stability, but the brunt of the exacerbating tension should be borne ― as always ― by its people.
Any eventual suspension or shutdown of the Gaeseong complex means the North will not be able to conduct similar project with South Korean or other foreign partners as long as for decades to come. Willingly or not, Pyongyang is biting the hand that feeds it, the consequence of which may prove to be far larger and longer than it is ready to accept.
Of course, the South will suffer, too, but the damage will be more political than economic, as seen by the sheer powerlessness in breaking through the current impasse in the cross-border relationship.
An eye-for-an-eye tactic by the reclusive regime is a lose-lose course at best and a suicidal one at worst. The North should be more flexible in handling the detainee issues and the sooner, the better.