SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA, PART II

For me, the main draw of traveling to Korea was to see the Demilitarized Zone.  The situation between the north and south is fairly unique; although the two sides signed an armistice agreement in 1953, a formal peace treaty has remained elusive.  And though there have been relatively few skirmishes since the armistice was established, both sides are constantly poised for war.  Moreover, Panmunjeom, or the Joint Security Area, is perhaps the only military outpost in the world where enemy soldiers face each other in such close proximity everyday.

The Joint Security Area.  The soldier at the top of the stairs is a KPA officer (North Korea).  If you look between the two buildings, where the snow ends and the asphalt begins, that line is the physical demarcation between North and South Korea.  The soldiers from both armies will often stand immediately on either side of that line.

Before you can really examine the current state of the DMZ and its significance, you first have to consider the history of the Korean War.  (If you aren't interested in this part, you can skip below to the header that reads "THE DMZ."  I completely understand.)  Here's a basic outline: following World War II, the Japanese military, which had occupied the Korean peninsula for almost 35 years, relinquished control to the Allies and retreated.  Korea was then split along the 38th parallel, with the Soviets taking charge of the north, while the Americans administered the south, which included Seoul.  Despite attempts to create a Korean government, the two halves could not agree on a political ideology; the north favored Communist rule, while the south pushed for a democratic system.  Sound pretty straightforward?  Here's where it gets complicated.  As the saying goes, "History is written by the victors."  However, in the case of a stalemate it appears that each side gets to tell their own version, forcing the rest of us to take their perspectives with a grain of salt.  The following is an account of the war from the South Korean side, as related by the War Museum.  Please note that there are gaping holes in this narrative, and for a more factual approach, you might as well read Wikipedia.  But as our young South Korean tour guide at the DMZ told us, "It's not that I hate North Korea.  It's just that these are the facts that were told to me by the government."

In 1950, Kim Il-Sung (father of Kim Jong-Il) petitioned for, and received, the blessing of the Communist parties of China and the Soviet Union to invade and capture Seoul.  There was a significant loss of life during the attack, and as the conflict escalated, other world powers became concerned.  [Let's face it, their perturbation had little to do with the violence, and more to do with terror in some quarters over the rise of Communism.]  The newly-minted United Nations voted to send in forces to expel the Communists from Seoul, and perhaps gain even more territory beyond the 38th parallel.  It seemed that the UN forces would prevail in expanding the control of the South Korean government, until the Chinese made good on an earlier pledge to aid the Korean Peoples' Army (KPA), and UN soldiers were forced to maintain their position at the 38th parallel.  In 1953, the armistice agreement was signed, and the DMZ further fortified on both sides.

Over the succeeding decades, North Korea became increasingly isolated, particularly under the rule of Kim Jong-Il.  Meanwhile, South Korea rose as a dynamic economic power in Asia.   Despite almost 50 years of animosity, there are still those who long for reunification.  The founder of Hyundai, Ju-Yung Chung, was a North Korean defector who became a zillionaire entrepreneur in the south.  He was a key supporter of reunification, and personally funded several overtures geared towards bettering relations between the two regions, including using Hyundai trucks to transport herds of cattle into North Korea.  The Hyundai Group also led resort tours of North Korea for South Korean visitors.  This ended abruptly in 2008 when a South Korean tourist was killed while on holiday.  The story goes that a woman left her hotel for a walk one morning, and was later found miles away, shot and killed.  The KPA, which fully admitted to shooting her, claimed that she had been caught snooping in a military area and tried to run.  The South Koreans were not convinced, given that this middle-aged housewife had no means of getting to the place where they found her body, and forensics tests suggested that she had been standing still or walking slowly when shot.  

Today, North Korea closely monitors who enters the country, particularly journalists.  The only entrance is from China, and North Korea is more than happy to take in the Chinese yuan, though from what I hear, their tours are highly restrictive.  No word yet as to whether or not North Korea will become more open to the world under Kim Jong-Un.  (Personally, I highly doubt that Kim Jong-Un is in control of North Korea in any meaningful way; however, I can't deny that he has at least slightly more credibility than his elder brother, Kim Jong-Nam, whose claim to fame is having been deported from Narita airport in Tokyo in 2001, after he was caught entering the country on a forged passport with the intent to visit Disneyland.  I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to, folks.)  The Atlantic recently posted photos from inside North Korea, which was a surprise.  The closest thing I've seen is "Kim Jong-Il Looking at Things," which has now been replaced by "Kim Jong-Un Looking at Things."  

THE DMZ

To get to the DMZ, you have to take a chartered bus north for an hour and a half before you hit the first checkpoint.  The roads within the Joint Security Area (JSA) are circuitous, with multiple barriers and barricades set up along the roads so that cars can't drive a straight route, and instead have to weave their way through.  At the second checkpoint, our military escort, an American PFC, hops on the bus to check everyone's passports and inform the group of the rules.  There are scores of rules that must be followed, regarding dress code, body language (no pointing at North Korea), when photos are allowed and where, and what kinds of personal belongings can accompany people on the tour (no bags, coats must be worn at all times).  We are warned that failure to follow these policies will result in our detainment, and plastic restraints are held up to prove this pronouncement, accompanied by a couple of gleeful stories of the times the PFC has had to use them on someone. 

The tour is efficient in a way that only the military could pull off; we're told that this is in part because North Korea gets nervous if they see people dilly-dallying on the South Korean side, as they assume that the UN and ROK are plotting something dire.  There's a briefing on the history of the DMZ at Camp Bonifas, the advance camp in the JSA.  This is mainly to acquaint the group with the stories behind the sights we'll see on the tour: the UN buildings that have been built to allow for talks between North and South Korea, the Bridge of No Return, the memorial to the 1976 Axe Murders, etc.  

Part of our JSA briefing: tutorial on how to recognize a KPA soldier.  Thanks, guys. 

The Bridge of No Return

After the briefing, the bus takes us deeper within the compound, and the scenes from the window are bizarre when juxtaposed.  First we pass through rows of tall fences topped with razor wire.  The PFC casually gestures to a stretch of land, telling us that it's filled with countless land mines.  The mines make it nearly impossible for defectors to venture into South Korean territory.  However, if someone does somehow make it over, they are subjected to a rigorous screening process to make sure that they aren't in fact North Korean spies.  Even if they pass the tests, they are still regularly monitored, just to make sure.  

Then we drive by tracts of farm land; it appears they're growing rice.  The PFC tells us that as a sign of their continued desire for reunification, both North and South Korean maintain villages on the border.  The North Korean village is referred to as "Propaganda Village," and is little more than rows of empty houses with timed lights.  In South Korea, the Freedom Village thrives, despite the strict regulations imposed on those living there.  Residents are expected to live in the village 240 days a year, and must abide by a nightly curfew.  Men can't marry into the village, and residency is hereditary.  Still, there are huge perks: subsidized farms and housing, and exemption from mandatory military service as well as from taxes.

At some point, a giant flag on an enormous pole can be seen in the distance.  This is our first glimpse into North Korea, into Propaganda Village.  

Propaganda Village, North Korea.  The giant flag that is flying in this photo weighs 600 lbs when it's dry.  During inclement weather, crews of 50-60 men have to lower the flag so that it doesn't tear.

The next stop is at the Peace House, where we are instructed to make two single file lines and follow our guide out to the back, where we can stand in a single line on a step facing the physical line of demarcation between North and South Korea.  As we walk into the building, I pass a pair of mannequins posed stiffly by the entrance, I assume to add gravitas.  It's not until we are halfway into the building that I realize that these are actual Republic of Korea (ROK) soldiers, whose posture is so exquisite and frozen that it is unreal.  They stand in a modified judo pose wearing sunglasses, even indoors.  They are more than a little intimidating.  

ROK soldier, standing on the line between South and North Korea.

We get to go into one of the UN conference buildings, which sits directly on the line of demarcation, bisecting the structure into a North Korean side and a South Korean side.  The conference table also sits directly on top of the line.  In the photo above, the North Korean sit on the left, and the North Koreans sit on the right.  Or they would if they actually attended the peace talks; the North Koreans have not sent a delegation since 1991. 

The UN huts in front of Panmungak, or the building that represents North Korea at the JSA.

The tour also included a visit to Dorasan Station, which is located on a now defunct train line connecting North and South Korea.  You can buy a "ticket" to Pyongyang, though you can't even access the train platform.  Finally, there is a stop at the Third Infiltration Tunnel.  Kim Il-Sung ordered 5 tunnels to be dug into South Korea.  A North Korean defector notified the ROK government of their existence, which the North Koreans tried to cover up by painting the walls of the tunnel with coal dust and insisting that the shafts were dug for mining purposes.  The tunnels were purportedly designed to allow thousands of KPA troops to pass through within hours.  Having been down in the tunnel, this seems hard to believe.  The ceilings are only about five feet, eight inches tall, and the width is barely enough to accommodate two lines of people trying to get in and out.  Not one for claustrophobia, I have to say that I counted the seconds until I could get out of that cramped space (and away from the racous Chinese tourists who kept shoving me).  

At Dorasan Station.  When reunification occurs, Dorasan will act as the main station between the two countries. 

Inside the Third Infiltration Tunnel.  Can you see the panic in my eyes?

It's difficult to get a sense of how South Koreans feel about the split in modern day.  Maybe one indicator of public sentiment is the maudlin film Joint Security Area, one of the highest grossing films in South Korean history.  We watched the movie on the bus on our return to Seoul; however, our tour guide was very clear that not all South Koreans shared the feelings expressed therein.  Some are still gung-ho about reunification, while others regard this as a disaster, having witnessed how West Germany became responsible for revitalizing East Germany after the Berlin Wall was brought down.  

I leave you with this thought from the educational film at the Third Infiltration Tunnel (incidentally, one of the most jingoistic pieces of cinema I've ever experienced):"Until the dream of reunification is achieved, the DMZ will last forever!"  

Choco pies! Beloved by Koreans (and foreigners).  In South Korea, a box of 18 choco pies costs approximately $6.  In North Korea, where there are no choco pies, one choco pie runs for almost $4 on the black market.