With that one family drama, a half century of Korean propaganda seemed to fade away. A hundred Northerners and a hundred Southerners visited Seoul and Pyongyang last week for emotional reunions–only the second in the 50 years since the Korean War divided some 7 million families. To South Koreans watching the wailing families on TV, Park and the other North Koreans were no longer the faceless victims of Pyongyang’s cruelty that decades of propaganda had taught them to expect. The visitors seemed a bit brainwashed, thanking North Korean leader Kim Jong Il for their good fortune. But above all, they seemed like living, breathing human beings–with families, jobs and visible emotions. In June Southern President Kim Dae Jung and his Northern counterpart signed a historic reconciliation accord. Last week’s tears brought the distant diplomatic maneuverings home. Some optimists are even predicting reunification within this generation. “The current mood of the peninsula is for more contacts and exchanges,’’ says Rha Jong Il at Seoul’s Kyunghee University. “Nobody can reverse the tidal wave.''
The recent detente on the Korean peninsula is almost too fast for anyone to comprehend. Until two years ago, animosity between the two Koreas was so bitter that peaceful coexistence, let alone reunification, seemed almost impossible. Even after Kim Dae Jung proclaimed his sunshine policy of engagement with the North in early 1998, a bloody naval clash broke out on the Yellow Sea, heightening military tensions on the cold war’s last frontier. But from 1998 the Stalinist regime in Pyongyang began to change, starting with the opening of its Mount Kumkang area on the east coast to Southern cruise tourists. Then, coaxed by desperately needed food aid and business offers from the South, Kim Jong Il opened his closed society a smidgen more, allowing more Southern visitors last year than the total for the previous five decades. The June summit made the incremental steps official, signaling a major thaw.
Since then, Pyongyang has made one concession after another. The North has dropped slanderous verbal attacks on the Southern regime. A liaison office was opened at the truce village of Panmunjom for the first time in four years. Northern ministers visited Seoul last month, agreeing on more exchange programs. Among them is a plan to relink a railroad line across the border. Starting with the full-moon holiday next month, soldiers from both sides will build the track across the heavily armed demilitarized zone. Early this month Hyundai Group, which pioneered business with North Korea by initiating tours to Mount Kumkang, was granted the right to build a vast industrial complex in Kaesung, an ancient city north of the border. In return for Pyongyang’s agreement to family reunions, Seoul will repatriate dozens of former North Korean spies recently released from jails.
A new image of the mysterious Kim Jong Il is emerging, too. At the North-South summit in June, Kim stepped out of self-imposed isolation into the world spotlight. Even Kim Dae Jung was surprised by his counterpart’s warmth, when he held hands and invited his Southern guest to ride in his limousine. Earlier this month, the North Korean leader invited South Korean newspaper executives to dine with him in Pyongyang. Drinking a glass of red wine, he joked about the South Korean press’s portrayal of him as a boozer. “I only drink this much,” he said, laughing, “and they say I drink too much.” Countering reports in the Western press that he has a weakness for blond women, racy movies and fast cars, Kim told the editors he works late, sleeping only four hours, and likes to swim, ride horses and “go out and meet the people.”
Kim also revealed the nationalistic pride that has made Pyongyang so tough to deal with. “If I sit here in Pyongyang,” he bragged, “many from powerful nations come to me.” But when it came to specifics, Kim was pragmatic. He reiterated that Pyongyang will give up its missile development if Washington pays for its rocket launch, and said Pyongyang will open diplomatic ties with the United States if Washington drops it from the list of terrorist regimes. He offered more family exchanges. Kim even proposed direct flights over the border for major inter-Korean delegations instead of detoured routes, which he said waste fuel.
Many South Koreans are bewildered by the sudden shift in Kim’s image from a merciless dictator to a considerate leader reaching out to the South and the world. After Kim took over when his father, Kim Il Sung, died in 1994, many Pyongyang watchers predicted his regime’s fall, citing the junior Kim’s reportedly eccentric inclinations and his lack of charisma. But Kim Dae Jung said last week his counterpart was the “most reform-minded North Korean leader’’ who “may not be logical, but is equipped with intellectual ability and sharp judgment.’’ How far Kim Jong Il is willing to open up to the South is unclear. Large-scale exchanges that could loosen his tight grip on the population, for example, are unlikely.
Many South Koreans were also shocked that the family members from the North had enjoyed good lives. To be sure, the 100 Northerners had been handpicked by the Pyongyang government for their propaganda value–and their privileged lives are far from typical. Still, South Koreans learned that Northerners with families in the South have not been discriminated against by Pyongyang, as previously believed. Some Southerners were surprised to learn that their relatives had gone to the North voluntarily. South Koreans know that increasing numbers of refugees have fled the North in recent years. Nonetheless, a more human picture of life on the other side is coming into focus.
Huge differences still separate the two sides. The well-rehearsed Northerners stuck to their political script. Chung Chang Mo, a well-known Northern painter, cried as he mentioned “Gen. Kim Jong Il’s grace’’ to his family in the South. In contrast, the Southern visitors were chosen randomly, with the oldest and closest relatives given priority. Accustomed to democracy and freedom, they talked of their personal lives, not politics. Park Man Ki, Park Ryang Sun’s younger brother in the South, saw “religious rage’’ from his sister when she praised Kim Jong Il. “The North can never understand democracy,” he says, “just as we can never understand their system.''
Despite the emotions, persuading the South Koreans to reunite won’t be easy. Kim Jong Il can push for inter-Korean cooperation easily because he faces little dissent in his controlled society. Meeting with the South Korean media executives, Kim casually endorsed major inter-Korean projects and said that even national unification was up to him. In contrast, Kim Dae Jung has to win over public opinion and the National Assembly when it comes to major projects with the North. “Democratic gridlock in the South can be more problematic than one-man leadership in the North,’’ said Moon Chung In, a politics professor at Seoul’s Yonsei University. The South’s conservative factions, including Kim’s coalition partner, are wary of Pyongyang’s motives. The opposition Grand National Party has charged that Kim’s sunshine policy is too costly and soft.
Even emotionally, putting families back together will be complicated. After the hugs and tears, family members last week struggled to bridge the 50-year gap. After just four days, the relatives headed home. In Pyongyang, Southern visitor Lee Sun Haeng, 81, had to bid farewell to the wife and two sons he had left behind in the North 50 years ago. “Please take good care of your mother,’’ Lee told the sons. The wife never remarried, but Lee found a new wife in the South. “I am sorry,’’ Lee told the first wife. “Be healthy until we meet again.” All of a sudden, politics looks like the easy part.
