Travelling Around Britain and the World

Monday 9 September 2013

Pyongyang (2), A Day for Waving: North Korea Part 3

The 65th Anniversary of the Founding of the DPRK

DPRK

Dawn broke on the 65th anniversary of the founding of the sadly misnamed  Democratic People's Republic of Korea with a blanket of mist hanging over Pyongyang. Our guides had apparently been unsure how the day would be celebrated, but from our hotel room we could see hundreds of army trucks parked along the riverside. Apparently there was to be a military parade – well, who would have guessed it?

Army trucks beside the Taedong River, Pyongyang

Mangyongdae, Birthplace of Kim Il Sung

After an adequate if unexciting breakfast we set off for the birthplace of Kim Il Sung - Eternal President of the DPRK - at Mangyongdae, a village just outside the city. The mist burned off during our short bus ride; the day, like every day we spent in Korea, would be warm and intermittently sunny.

Nearing Mangyongdae we passed a series of stadiums built, I thought we were told, for the Asian games, though they have never been held in North Korea; indeed I can find no record of any major international multi-sport event in Pyongyang. The North Koreans are good at building large ugly concrete structures, though not always so successful at finding something to do with them. These were being refurbished for a forthcoming event, though I am unsure what.

The Kim family home, Mangyongdae

The birthplace of Kim Il Sung is set in green parkland amid wooded hills. Kim’s father moved here to tend the graves of the rich, who liked to be buried in such pleasant surroundings. Kim Il Sung said that his family was not poor, but poverty was always only a step away and the modest house reflects that claim. Now standing alone and surrounded by mown lawns and clipped hedges, it has been so cleaned and polished into unreality that Mr Disney would deem it suitable accommodation for a precocious young lady and seven older, shorter men. There are a few photographs of the family and some artefacts and tools they may have used.

The Kim family kitchen, Mangyongdae

Kim Il Sung was born on the 15th of April 1912, the day the Titanic finally slipped below the icy waters of the Atlantic. Much of his youth is shrouded in mystery, but his official biography - more hagiography than factual record - says he left Mangyongdae in 1926 to fight the Japanese occupiers and returned in triumph to announce the founding of the DPRK in 1948. His departure is depicted near the exit to the park.

A young Kim Il Sung leaves home to begin his heroic struggle against the Japanese

The Monument to the Korean Worker's Party

We drove back into town, fighting our way through the tumultuous traffic. The 2008 census claims the city has over 3 million inhabitants. Where were they all?

The tumultuous traffic of Pyongyang

They were not, as you might think, attending the military parade. We had asked if we could see it and received the sort of ‘no’ normally reserved for those requesting a ride in the presidential limousine. We had not realised how few people get to see the action. There is a saluting platform for the uber-elite, while spectator accommodation consists of grandstands even a Stafford Rangers supporter would consider modest.

Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

Venturing south of the river for the first time we stopped at the monument to the Korean Workers' Party, another of Pyongyang’s huge selection of monumental monstrosities. In addition to the usual hammer and sickle, the Koreans have a writing brush to indicate the solidarity of the intellectuals, and they have built them all 50m high.

If I had a hammer....
Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

Inside the monument is a frieze of students, workers and military types attempting to outstare the future….

Nobly attempting to outstare the future
Korean Worker's Party Monument, Pyongyang

…while outside an empty park stretches down to the river. On the far side is Mansudae Hill where yesterday we bowed to the giant statues of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. Enlarge this picture and it is just possible make out the two of them in front of the white building in the far distance.

Empty park by the Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

Watching the 65th Anniversary Celebrations

We were led into a set of official looking buildings behind the monument – though the lack of signs means most buildings in Pyongyang look like municipal offices. In a hall on the first floor was a television and some chairs. We could not see the parade which was happening hardly a mile away, but we could watch it on TV, and later, if we behaved ourselves, we could watch the secondary parade (i.e. the soldiers going home afterwards).

Goose-stepping across city squares to celebrate national days has gone out of fashion in Europe (I wonder why?), but remains big in the DPRK. Perfectly drilled soldiers marched past Kim Jong Un (known as The Marshall) and sometimes he saluted, sometimes waved and sometimes referred to the general behind to find out which to do.

Giant effigies of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il mounted on floats
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Korean newsreader Ri Chun Hee achieved some notoriety after her sobbing announcement of the death of Kim Jong Il (see it on YouTubehere) and her gleeful revelation of North Korea’s nuclear test. She retired in January 2012, promising to pass on her skills to the next generation. She has been remarkably successful; the rich throb of a semi-hysterical contralto accompanied every movement as the soldiers marched and countermarched while floats bearing giant effigies of Kim Jung Un’s dad and granddad moved, as if by magic, among them.

The Marshall, Kim Jong Un waves to his adoring people
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

There is, no doubt, a homoerotic component to military displays, and watching massed ranks of women soldiers in knee length khaki skirts goose-stepping in unison will have its devotees, but I am not one of them. I disliked the whole thing; I hate seeing human beings reduced to the status of cogs in a machine.

The marching cogs make pictures with cards
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

By 11.30 the parade was beginning to wind down and it was deemed an appropriate time for lunch.

A Hotpot Lunch

We ate at a hotpot restaurant. Korean hotpot differs from the Chinese version - for photos see Shanghai or Chengdu - in that each diner has an individual pot (of water rather than stock) and a spirit stove. When the water boils you tip in your pork then, after an appropriate pause, some noodles, cabbage, potatoes, chilli and tofu. Finally, a beaten egg binds everything into a tasty mass. Salt, pepper, MSG and chilli powder are available on the table. It was very enjoyable, though next (?!) time I would salt the water at the start.

Boiling up a hotpot, Pyongyang

We had time for a brief shopping stop before the parade. The small shop sold cigarettes, sake, ginseng products, and luridly coloured crafts. We bought some pottery (compulsory for citizens of North Staffordshire), and L acquired her usual fridge magnet (because we really need another one). A bar downstairs attracted the less dedicated shoppers who suggested popping down for a beer. This was a scary moment for the guides. ‘No,’ was the immediate answer followed, after a moment’s thought, by ‘It’s too crowded,’ and ‘We haven’t got time.’ Cynics suggested the real reason was that we could not possibly be allowed to mingle unsupervised with unvetted locals (and anyway the bar would only accepted Korean Won – which, as foreigners, we did not have). Could our guides have been economical with the truth? There were two views, which North Koreans find unsettling - they are used to being told the correct view in all situations - but not being North Koreans, we happily weighed up both sides and reached our own conclusions.

Waving at the Soldiers

A short bus ride - made longer by the large number of closed roads - brought us to a convenient point to see the parade. The roadside was lined with people as far as the eye could see, but only one or two deep so we had no difficulty finding a vantage point.

The crowd begins to gather
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

>We did not have to wait long before the arrival of a couple of stretch limos. One had a North Korean flag on top, the other a portrait of Kim Jong Un. Was The Marshall really inside? Probably not, but the tinted windows kept us guessing.

Kim Il Sung on top of this one, somebody important inside (presumably)
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

A loud speaker van passed next. The booming, heartfelt commentary could have been Ri Chun Hee herself. We peered through the windows to see if we could recognise the woman inside

Commentator's minibus, DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Then came the soldiers, truckloads of them. The people waved their flowers and the soldiers waved back. There were special waves for us, some of the soldiers shouting ‘Hello’, ‘Welcome to Korea’ or ‘Spasibo’, as though we were a friendly delegation from the Soviet Union. We smiled and waved vigorously.

Bandsmen wave their instruments
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

The bandsmen carried their instruments, percussionists often standing and banging cymbals. Faces were cheerful and smiles were broad, except for one of the tuba players – and if I had been lumbered with that outsized brass chamber pot, I would look miserable, too. There were more commentators mixed in with the soldiery - North Koreans never have to survive long without being told what to think.

L rests from her waving
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Other soldiers sat with fixed bayonets – there would have been carnage had the driver braked sharply - or with rocket-propelled grenades on the ends of their rifles. Despite the fearsome armaments the atmosphere was non-threatening, the smiles and waves warm and genuine. It was like something from an old newsreel – and, as L observed, good practice if we are ever invaded.

Fixed bayonets and cheery smiles
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

40 minutes after the stretch limos had appeared, the last truck passed and the crowd began to disperse.

The crowd begins to disperse
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Picnics and Dancing in Moranbong Park

We moved on to Moranbong Park (not to be confusedwith the Moranbong Music Band) to ‘mingle’ with the picnicking crowd.

Moranbong Park, Pyongyang

The park occupies a wooded hill between the Taedong River and Triumphant Return Square and a concrete path threads its way up through the trees. Family picnics had been laid out to right and left and everybody was enjoying the holiday.

Picnic in the park
Moranbong Park, Pyongyang

Near the top of the hill there was music and people dancing on the path. The guides encouraged us to join in, though some needed no encouragement. There was indeed much happy mingling and goodwill shown on both sides, though smiling was the only communication that was possible. Our most extrovert personality soon found the rest of the crowd had stopped dancing and gathering round to watch him. Eventually we moved on with much waving and cheery ‘goodbyes’.

Dancing in the park
Moranbong Park, Pyongyang

Descending the other side of the hill we saw smaller groups of dancers each with their own music. Many of the women wore national costume but everybody, regardless of how they dressed, sported a pin with either a national flag or the faces of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jung Il.

National costume in Moranbong Park
Pyongyang

Undoubtedly, everybody was genuinely enjoying the simple pleasures of a picnic in the park, in a relaxed and cheerful holiday atmosphere. What we could not know was who these people were. They were not, I am sure, members of the elite, but were they ordinary workers, or a favoured selection of the middle classes or the party faithful? We may never know.

Picnic in the Park, Moranbong Park
Pyongyang

Triumphant Retrun Square and the Arch of Triumph

We left the park beside Kim Il Sung stadium where soldiers were gathering to watch an exhibition football match. At the front of the stadium is Triumphant Return Square with the Arch of Triumph at its centre.

Arriving in Triumphant Return Square, Pyongyang

The square is named for the Triumphant Return of Kim Il Sung after almost single-handedly driving the Japanese from North Korea. Japan had been the colonial power since 1800 and their absence post 1945 was much appreciated, but DPRK history avoids mentioning the global conflict and ignores contribution made by other combatants, including the Chinese, British and even the hated Americans (now hated slightly more than even the Japanese).

'Walk around and take photos,’ we were told as we reached the square. We had not gone far before an angry looking man strode towards us, shouting and waving his arms. We must not stroll idly around, we must go immediately to the local guide. I am a pacifist, but I could happily have given him a broken nose.

Through the Arch of Triumph, Pyongyang

The local guide was, of course, dressed in traditional costume. She told us that although the arch is (very obviously) based on the French original, it is 10m higher. Now why did that not surprise us? It was erected to commemorate the 70th birthday of Kim Il-Sung in 1982 and consists of just over 25500 blocks of dressed sandstone – one for each day of his 70 years. Koreans love this sort of numerical symbolism.

Information received (though not all necessarily retained), we were allowed to wander. I walked down the middle of the road to get some distance for this photograph; safe enough in Pyongyang, but not recommended in the Champs-Elysées.

Arch of Triumph, Pyongyang

Dinner and some News about Kim Il Sung

Back at the hotel we turned on the television to watch the news scroll across the BBC World Service. Seeing the face of Kim Jung Un we turned up the blurry sound and managed to decipher the words. Dennis Rodman – a retired American basketball player of some repute on court and some notoriety off it – had paid a return visit to The Marshall after striking up a rapport during an earlier stay. The Marshall was, he reported, a ‘regular guy’ and said that he had played with his baby daughter. There had been rumours last year that Mrs Kim had been pregnant, and this was the first confirmation. We now knew something the North Koreans did not.

The group dined in the revolving restaurant atop the Yanggakdo Hotel. The view was good, there was much discussion of our direction of revolution (with a counter-intuitive answer) but the food was best forgotten. We talked of the Dennis Rodman story and deciding on balance to say nothing to the guides. We later heard that one group had told a guide. The result was not surprise or excitement, just a cool ‘They will tell us when the time is right.’ Exactly like the birth of young George Windsor, then. Not.

Outside the Rungnado May Day Stadium, Pyongyang

The Rungdao May Day Stadium and the Arirang Mass Games

In the evening we made our way to the Rungnado May Day Stadium. The Arirang Mass Games are not ‘games’ in any sense I understand the word. The show takes place in an indoor stadium seating 60 thousand. 20 thousand middle school children occupied one side with coloured cards which they use to produce a huge variety of shapes and pictures. The two ends of the stadium were empty and ‘our’ side was half full so with several thousand performers on the field the participants easily outnumbered the spectators. The kids with the cards were faultless throughout. They train half days for three months, then full time for another three months. Might they, I wondered, be better off at school?

The kids with the cards deliver a message
Arirang Mass Games, Pyongyang

The music, martial in tone and always fortissimo, seemed, like much North Korean music, to be a pastiche of its western counterpart. Often it drifted towards well known tunes, The Carnival is Over, Calon Lan, Make me a Channel of your Peace, but never quite made it.

The theme was the usual bombastic retelling of the defeat of the Japanese, the glory of Kim Il-Sung, the defeat of the Americans, sorrow at the death of Kim Il Sung - or was that Kim Jong Il? - as always with dance, narrative came a distant second to dancing. The section where happy boys and girls skipped about joyfully while film of the North Korean nuclear test was projected onto white cards was, I thought, sick.

The sun - and yellow generally - is always symbolic of Kim Il Sung
Arirang Mass games, Pyongyang

The costumes, the huge numbers involved and the intricate patterns they made entertained many people, but with me they hit something of a blind spot. I disliked the music and have no interest in dancing so I found it a long sit. There was an acrobatics interlude with people blown out of cannons and trapeze artists swinging on wires – all very clever, but to what point? From 20 minutes in I was looking at my watch wondering when it would end. And when the end came it left the same nasty taste as the morning’s military parade. Lynne enjoyed it, though, and other members of our group came out saying it was the best 100 Euros they had ever spent so perhaps I am out of step; in L’s words, I am ‘a grumpy git’. Sorry.

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Location: Pyongyang, North Korea

Sunday 8 September 2013

Pyongyang (1), A Day for Bowing: North Korea Part 2

An Introduction to North Korea's Unique Way of Looking at the World

People's Democratic Republic of Korea

After investigating the Yanggakdo’s attempt at ‘international hotel buffet breakfast’ - adequate, if hardly exciting - we were ready to leave by 8.30.

Sunday is Korean's day of rest, but there were more people about this morning, walking or cycling over the bridge from our island…

Morning rush hour, Pyongyang

…or gathering by the trolley-bus stops outside the railway station.

Outside Pyongyang Railway Station

Kumsusan Palace - A Palace for Two Dead Leaders

We were on our way to see Kim Il Sung (deceased) and Kim Jong Il (equally deceased) and everybody had dressed up for the occasion. This was the second time I had worn a tie (except a black tie at funerals) since retiring five years ago. The Kims, I thought, should be flattered by my rating this visit alongside my grandson’s christening.

That, of course, was not the North Korean view; they take their leaders, dead or alive, very seriously. When photographing a statue, we had been told the previous evening, it is disrespectful not to photograph the whole statue. Nor should we ever fold or carelessly discard a newspaper (an English-language paper was available in the hotel) as they may (may??) contain a picture of a Kim, and their images should never be creased or crumpled.

I come from a society where many citizens, myself included, frequently sit on the face of our monarch (her image adorns the banknotes in my wallet, and I keep that in my back pocket). I have done the same to Chairman Mao in China and no one seemed to mind. I have no idea who or what appears on North Korean banknotes as I never saw any. Foreigners are not permitted to hold North Korean Won, they must use hard currency which is accepted only at the few places foreigners are permitted to shop. The Euro is the currency of choice (they even accept coins*) but change sometimes comes in Chinese Yuan.

A huge crowd, foreigners and locals, was milling around the bus park at Kumsusan Palace. The palace was built in 1976 as the official residence of Kim Il Sung. After his death in 1994 it became his mausoleum and in 2012 he was joined by his son Kim Jong Il. After a wait we lined up in fours in a covered walkway until it was our turn to move forward into the cloakroom where we handed over cameras, handbags and other objects likely to upset metal detectors.

Kumsusan Palace, Pyongyang

A short escalator took us to security screening. Once scanned and patted down, an immensely long travelator conveyed us down a wide corridor, the walls hung with over 200 pictures of Kim Il Sung. There was Kim in the snow, Kim in the spring, Kim with children, Kim in fields of corn, Kim with his wife, Kim with generals, Kim with his son, Kim on his train, Kim on a bike (and more and more and….). Those who had completed their visit were being carried back down the far side of the corridor. They were all Koreans; some women in national costume, some men in suits but most in army uniform. Apparently all Korean soldiers below the rank of colonel must wear a uniform two sizes too big for them. They gave us a good hard stare as they rolled towards us, and we stared back.

Korean women in national dress, Kumsusan Palace

Paying our Respects to Kim Il Sung

At the end we walked through a sort of airlock. Rollers in the floor cleaned our shoes and blasts of air blew away any extraneous dust and capitalist ideas while also controlling the temperature and humidity of the room beyond.

Kim Il Sung lies in the centre of a large rectangular room, the sombre lighting focussed entirely on him.

As previously instructed we formed into lines of 4 (a neat trick for 15 people). The first quartet advanced to the foot of the catafalque, paused, bowed, paused again and then filed round to Kim’s right to repeat the process as the next four advanced, then round to the head where, for some unexplained reason, bowing is considered inappropriate, then to the left for another bow and then out. I thought he was looking well, as corpses go.

Kim Il Sung's Awards - Including the Medallion of Derbyshire - his Car and Private Train

In the next room glass cases held the huge array of medals and awards heaped on Kim Il Sung from all over the world. Koreans walked round in wonder and amazement, while we gazed quizzically at gaudy golden stars presented by obscure Peruvian municipalities. Naturally we searched for any British contribution to the glittering array. Eventually we found a plain gold (ish) disc inscribed ‘The Medallion of the County of Derbyshire.’ [I googled it later but could find no information about who awarded it, who else has been a recipient or indeed any evidence of its existence beyond this one example. I did, though, find a British newspaper article about a visit to Kumsusan. The writer had spotted the medallion and made a snarky comment about 'loony left' councils. Either this was lazy journalism, or he was writing to the agenda of the unaccountably popular right wing rag that employed him, maybe both. Having an inquiring mind and with no such agenda, I contacted Derbyshire County Council with a 'Freedom of Information' request. They had never heard of it, though they did invited me to look through several decades of council minutes in case they had missed it. I declined]

Wearing a tie outside the Kumsusan Palace

More marble halls with more photographs took us to rooms containing Kim Il Sung’s car, a black Mercedes, and his private train. The walls were covered with maps, one showing all his train journeys and another with lights showing the destination of every foreign visit he made (he covered much of Asia and Eastern Europe but never made it west of Prague).

The Lying-in-State Room

More corridors took us to the huge carpeted room where Kim Il Sung and later his son Kim Jong Il had lain in state, the walls covered with reliefs depicting the Korean people, weeping and distraught at the loss of their leaders. Like every other room in the palace no expense had been spared on the quality of the materials, and the care lavished on maintenance and cleaning has been unstinted.

Kim Il Sung (left) and Kim Jong Il
I was not allowed my camera, so I have borrowed this picture PressTV
The chandelier reflected in the wooden surround exemplifies the polishing in Kumsusan

And Repeat for Kim Jong Il

Passing through another airlock allowed us to repeat the whole process with Kim Jong Il. Bowing at the body, viewing the medals (no British contributions here) and finally seeing his car, his train, the golf buggy he used on factory visits and finally his private launch. Kim Jong Il died of a heart attack on his train and his desk is left much as it was when he collapsed over it, worn out by his unceasing toil at the service of the Korean people. His death came as a shock to Koreans, though his ill health had been reported in the west for months.

Local guides are good at giving the approved information, but less good at answering questions. We did, however, get an answer to ‘how did they get this stuff in here?’ The trains and boats, we were told, are in rooms with external walls. They were installed and the wall built around them.

We rode back down the long travelator mulling over our surreal experience. We have seen embalmed leaders before, but the mausoleums of Lenin, Mao and Ho Chi Minh are modest by comparison. No society can have bestowed so much care and attention (and money) on their dead leaders since the days of Rameses II.

Mansudae Hill

We spent some time wandering round the outside and taking the photographs above before hopping back on the bus. The short journey to Mansudae Hill included a pause at a flower stall.

Flower seller, Mansudae Hill, Pyongyang

‘The square will be very crowded’, we were told before turning the corner to find it almost empty.

Kim Il Sung (left) and Kim Jong Il on Mansudae Hill, Pyongyang

Huge statues of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il look out over southern Pyongyang. We lined up before them and bowed reverently (well, perhaps not very reverently) and those who had bought flowers walked forward to add them to the pile.

Two members of our party place floral tributes at the feet of Kim Jong Il
Did they do it out of respect and affection for him?
Did they do it out of politeness to our hosts?
Did they do it to fully immerse themselves in the DPRK experience?

Reliefs standing either side of the statues go under the snappy title ‘Statues of the Newly Freed Proletariat due to Kim Il Sung.’ They represent, we were told ‘the military and civilians of North Korea striving together to overcome their enemies to create a perfect state.’

Statue of the Newly Freed Proletariat Thanks to Kim Il Sung

As we admired the reliefs a large group of locals turned up to bow and make their presentations. Most had flowers, many had bought a sort of ‘floral FA Cup’ which seemed popular wherever we went.

The locals arrive to pay their respects, Mansudae Hill, Pyongyang

After this, lunch brought an air of normality. We had the restaurant to ourselves and ate chips, gelatinous noodles, stuffed pasta, tofu, cucumber, beef stew, shredded potato and sausage. The dishes turned up at irregular intervals and in no particular order. Just when we thought we had finished rice and soup arrived.

The Fatherland Liberation War Museum, Pyongyang

The Fatherland Liberation War Museum has recently reopened after refurbishment. It was on our itinerary as an ‘optional extra if open’ at €20 a head. That seems expensive for a museum, and, when it came to it hardly ‘optional’ but it would take a strange person to come all this way and then opt out.

Fatherland Liberation War Museum, Pyongyang

The museum is another palace behind a huge statue-dotted courtyard. There was little similarity between the heroic figures and the soldiers we had seen this morning, proud but small men in badly cut and ill-fitting uniforms.

Heroic DPRK soldiers, Fatherland War Liberation Museum, Pyongyang

To the right of the square was an extensive exhibition of captured American hardware, guns, tanks, downed aircraft and even a helicopter. We emerged from the end of this display at the riverside quay where the USS Pueblo is moored.

Captured US tank, Fatherland Liberation War Museum, Pyongyang

The Pueblo Affair

In January 1968 the American spy ship Pueblo was apprehended in North Korean territorial waters (or outside them in the American version). Outnumbered and outgunned the American captain prevaricated while his crew shredded confidential documents. Eventually the North Koreans opened fire killing one crewman and surrender inevitably followed.

USS Pueblo, Pyongyang

After 11 months of negotiation the Americans signed a humiliating document admitting spying and undertaking not to do it again and the crew was released. The document is displayed on board. Our North Korean guide thoroughly enjoyed the word ‘spies’ loading it with us much contempt as a single syllable can bear, but she did not tell us that as soon as they had their sailors back the Americans had repudiated the document as being signed under duress. She also failed to mention that the section saying it had been signed ‘as a receipt for 81 servicemen and one dead body’ had been blanked out. That figure, which is not disputed, struck me as staggering. I have no idea how 82 people could fit onto a vessel which is more boat than ship.

On the USS Pueblo, Fatherland Liberation War Museum, Pyongyang

I thought I remembered these events well, but I was surprised to discover the Pueblo was captured the week before the Tet offensive in Vietnam (see this Hue post). Could these events really have been happening at the same time? Apparently, yes.

It really was a spy ship, USS Pueblo, Fatherland Liberation War Museum, Pyongyang

The Korean War, a Narrative (or two)

The main museum was as sumptuous as the Kumsusan Palace. We paused before the large statue of Kim Il Sung in the entrance hall and perhaps we were expected to bow, but the choreography broke down and it never happened.

The museum was beautifully laid out, but long on narrative and short on artefacts. In 1945 the Japanese had been kicked out of Korea and the peninsula was divided along the 38th parallel with the Americans occupying the south and the Soviet Union the north. In 1948 Kim Il Sung established the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) in North Korea. This much is agreed, thereafter the narrative differs considerably from the story usually told in the west.

The North Korean version is in red and there is an alternative version in green, while my comments are in black. You may decide which to believe. I apologise for the inevitable simplifications.

In their quest for world domination, the Americans looked at the Korean peninsula and saw a knife they could thrust into the heart of Asia. America’s quest for world domination has now been sub-contracted to Macdonalds, Hollywood and Google. The more I look at a map of Asia, the less comprehensible the use of Korea as a ‘knife’ becomes.

Captured US guns, Fatherland Liberation War museum, Pyongyang

On the 25th of June 1950 the Americans launched a vicious and unprovoked attack across the 38th parallel. The division of Korea was a consequence of the 1945 Yalta agreement which stipulated that all foreign troops should be withdrawn by 1948. Both the US and the USSR adhered to the agreement so there were no significant American force in Korea in 1950. It was North Korea that invaded the South. It was not entirely unprovoked and followed a series of skirmishes some of which were provoked by the south. It was a pre-emptive strike as the North half-expected to be invaded. The doctrine of the pre-emptive strike was adopted by the US in 2003 to justify the invasion of Iraq.

Although DPRK troops were only deployed for defence, they counter-attacked, liberated Seoul and continued their advance until by August they had liberated the whole peninsula, except for a small section in the south east. I am unsure how a force ‘deployed only for defence’ could have done this. Some units of the US 8th Army were hastily redeployed from Japan and participated fully in this debacle.

The Americans called in their friends in the UN, including the British and the Turks. They landed on the west coast and reinforced their southern enclave. The Soviet Union was boycotting the Security Council so failed to veto resolutions calling for armed intervention. They did not make that mistake again. UN forces, having taken control of the south eastern enclave, broke out at the same time as the landing. 88% of the UN force was supplied by the US (330,000 men), 4% (14,000) were British. 600,000 South Korean soldiers were also involved. The DPRK narrative did not mention them.

Captured US helicopter, Fatherland Liberation War museum, Pyongyang

The breakout and landing were successful and after a rapid advance most of North Korea was in UN hands by November. The Americans then invaded the north but after a struggle heroically led by Kim Il Sung, the Fatherland was liberated. At this point the Chinese became involved (The DPRK narrative fails to mention them, too) and by January 1951 the counter-invasion had been repulsed and both sides became bogged down in trench warfare on and around the 38th parallel until the armistice in July 1953.

A crushing defeat was inflicted on the Americans. The DPRK was the first country ever to defeat the US in war. The war halted with a few minor gains and losses either side of the 38th parallel. To me that looks like a draw, albeit a draw which left half a million soldiers and 2.5 million civilians dead. And, of course, the war ‘halted’, it did not end. There was an armistice but, as yet, no peace treaty. In the North Korean mind, fighting ended last week and could resume any day.

Kim Il Sung Square

Thoroughly informed of the North Korean narrative, no other voices are allowed to intrude, we escaped the museum and headed on to Kim Il Sung Square. The next day was the 65th anniversary of the founding of the DPRK on the 9th of September 1948 – also (and probably coincidently) the day my parents were married. There would be celebrations and they would doubtless be centred on the square but the guides were very cagy about what they would be. ‘Nobody knows until it happens,’ we were told.

This was unconvincing. We all knew there would be a military parade, because there always is. The square was marked out with blobs of paint. Two of our number goose-stepped across the square to check that the paint marks coincided with a reasonable stride length.

Kim Il Sung Square and some blobs of paint, Pyongyang

Across the river from the square is the Juche Tower, of which more later.

Juche Tower, Pyongyang

Opera House and Brew House

Our guides may have feigned ignorance about the next day, but they did know about an impromptu concert at the opera college. We arrived to find about 50 people, plus some rather bored schoolchildren, listening to singers on the college steps. We caught the last few songs, some by soloists, some ensemble. We could not, of course, understand the words, but like most Korean songs, they were hymns to Kims.

Welcoming mural, College of Opera, Pyongyang

Our next stop was a brewpub. After so much DPRK nationalism this was a blessed relief.

Impromptu concert at the Opera College, Pyongyang (some are more interested than others)

It is difficult to know the functions of the buildings lining Pyongyang’s streets. Many must be shops, but there are no window displays - indeed many windows are tinted - stalls never spill out into the street, there are no advertisements and no signs except a few words in Korean, which might be informative, but may equally well be political slogans.

Getting off the bus we could see through an open door into what appeared to be a bar, but we were led away from it to another building at the end of the block. We climbed some stairs to a private room where we all sat round a long table. There was certainly no intention of allowing unfettered access to unvetted local citizens over a glass of beer. Our guides took our orders and brought the beer on trays - we never even glimpsed the bar or a beer tap.

Four brews were on offer, differentiated not by variety of barley or hop but by adjunct. One was 100% barley, another 70% barley/30% rice and a third 100% rice. There was also a dark beer.

As 100% barley is the norm at home, we tried the 70% barley (rich and hoppy), the 100% rice (pale, fizzy and tasteless), and the dark beer (sweetish and reminiscent of Mackeson). As we had already found, North Korea has some serious brewers and they proved (yet again) that there is no substitute for malted barley.

Our itinerary had already deviated significantly from the published version and as we sat and supped we were presented with a revised edition. We were originally scheduled to leave Pyongyang next day but would now stay for the mysterious celebrations and in the evening we could (or was that ‘would’) attend the Arairang Mass Games. We had already paid extra for the museum and the games were another €100 each (slightly cheaper tickets were available). This is a lot of money and I had an uneasy feeling that the government, desperate for hard currency, was ripping us off. On the other hand as it was the only opportunity we would ever have to see such a thing we smiled and paid up.

Beer glasses drained, it was time to return to the hotel where we ate in the ‘Chinese Restaurant’. After a very moderate buffet the previous evening and a passable breakfast we sat down with some hope. It was, in fact, Chinese only in name. We ate a very ordinary salad with mayonnaise, glutinous noodles, a small, cold bony fish with a tough batter (which had turned up at both previous meals in the hotel), cold chips (another local favourite), and an under-seasoned stew of chewy beef. As at lunchtime, rice and soup arrived at the end. Rice seemed to be assigned the role, once played by Yorkshire pudding, of a filler so the shortage of the ‘good things’ goes unnoticed - except in our case there was no shortage of ‘good things’ and most of the rice went uneaten.

Night fall on Pyongyang, but the red 'flame' on the Juche Tower is always visible

All our meals were paid for in advance – we could only use approved (and otherwise empty) restaurants - and the whole group ate the same set menu. Generally, lunches out were good, the only problem being not knowing how many small courses were coming, making pacing difficult. Meals in hotels ranged from dull to dire, but at least a glass of the excellent local beer was included.

* They accept all coins, however small. By contrast Monarch Airlines who fly into and out of the Eurozone many times daily accept only notes and €1 coins – and at a far inferior exchange rate. [And we all know what happened to them. We were in Portugal in 2017 when Monarch ceased trading, our thanks to the Civil Aviation Authority for bringing us home.]

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Location: Pyongyang, North Korea
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