Hot on the heels of the “70-Day Battle” leading up to the
7th Party Congress, the North Korean regime has launched a more ambitious
“200-Day Battle,” described by the state-run publication Rodong Sinmun as “a
safeguard of party policy that will lead to a breakthrough in carrying out the
five-year strategy for economic growth [announced at the 7th Party Congress].”
Based on experience, however, this author knows that rather
than perceiving these “battles” as opportunities to express loyalty, the weary
population views them with anguish and despair.
In 1989, this author was drafted as a road infrastructure
platoon leader at the Ryanggang Province branch of the Ministry of People’s
Security [MPS] and participated in an earlier iteration of the “200-Day
Battle.” At the time, the MPS was tasked with the construction of a three-way
intersection connecting Kimchon County, South Hwanghae Province with Kaesong;
to that end, brigades and battalions in the region were mobilized for road
pavement and tunnel construction.
Leaders overseeing the construction teams during this
particular “200-Day Battle,” which began in February 1989, were obliged to
demonstrate their allegiance to the regime by taking an oath of loyalty. This
author clearly recalls reading the oath aloud, repeating the deadlines to be
met at the 1-day, 10-day, and 100-day marks to demonstrate an understanding of
the gravity of the situation and, more importantly, culpability for failure if
the deadlines were not met.
All individuals mobilized for the “200-Day Battle” had their
daily production goals set at 1/200th of the total production goal. For
any hope of achieving this target, typically two or even three times more work
than what would be reasonably expected in a normal day was required. Workers
were also invariably obliged to record each day’s progress in their “200-Day
Battle Loyalty Journal,” which was subject to inspection by the overseers in
charge. Anyone failing to meet the quota each day was forced to work through
the night to complete it.
Predictably, the harrowing work and oppressive labor
conditions resulted in appalling and largely preventable injuries, both
physically and mentally. Nevertheless, few reasons could exempt one from the
daily quotas. Those who were injured were branded as “laggers” and docked
points on their political evaluation.
The situation was barbaric, inflicting suffering on everyone
involved, with the exception of the leadership. Tragically, thousands of
hapless soldiers lost their lives in “battle” when the Kumchon Bridge
collapsed. Survivors were forced to carry on with the work, despite the severe
lapses in safety exposed by the accident. There was no mention of safeguards,
let alone a meaningful plan to prevent further tragedy down the line.
Recent news emanating from North Korea suggests that the
situation remains unchanged. Speed of construction is emphasized over basic
safety standards, increasing the likelihood that another Kumchon Bridge
incident, or worse, may occur during the current “200-Day Battle.” The regime
does not regard workers as people but rather as expendable tools of labor.
This author joins a growing chorus of voices, including
North Korean defectors and those still inside North Korea, demanding an end to
forced mass labor.
