Last week, my colleagues and I visited Dandong, Liaoning province, together with 10 international postgraduate students. On April 25th, 2014, when President Obama laid a wreath at Seoul’s Korean War memorial, honoring over 3 million fallen soldiers and civilians, our American-majority group visited a very differently conceived memorial to the same war. The students are in China as part of Webster University’s global M.A. international relations program. Albeit purely coincidental, President Obama’s presence in the Korean peninsula was perfectly timed.
Dandong, on the bank of Yalu river, has a history stretching back 2000 years to the Xi-Han dynasty. Once known as An Dong or Eastern Peace, it is also the site of the eastern-most section of the Great Wall. Today, it is possibly one of the largest of China’s border-cities, boasting a new airport, a beautiful waterfront promenade, and year-round tourism. Across the Yalu is Democratic People’s Republic of Korea: known variously as the ‘Hermit Kingdom’, ‘Workers’ Paradise’, or one leg of Bush’s ‘Axis of Evil’.
At Dandong’s‘ Resist America, Aid Korea’ Memorial Hall, the students were thrust into an alternative,180-degree contrary narrative of the events of 1950-53. The curated exhibits; the iconic statues of the Korean and Chinese leadership at the time; the panorama of Chinese volunteer forces resisting the aggression of “US imperialists and their running dogs”, in defense of their communist Korean brothers, together evoked reactions ranging from disbelief to amusement to genuine perplexity at how the same sequence of events could receive such opposing treatments. China’s current political-diplomatic sophistication seemed far removed from the rhetoric empaneled on the museum walls. It was fascinating for me, as a teacher, to experience this “different-ness” through the eyes of my students.
Later, a boat ride on the Yalu put us in stunning proximity to the international border. The North Korean town of Sinuiji, appears muted in comparison to the high-rises and glitzy billboards of its Chinese counterpart, Dandong. We did see border patrol troops, but not a heavy military presence. There was disappointingly little by way of propaganda: no overt flag displays or portraits of the great Kims.This border town mainly functions asa loading dock for iron ore, raw material and seafood being transported into China. It is also a receiving port for finished goods and products from China. Spanning the length of the Yalu, the Friendship Bridge hums with activity all day long. It has a one-way traffic pattern that stops and reverses direction after each shipment. Right next to it stands the iconic ‘broken bridge’ which, during the war, was bombed by General Mac Arthur.
Thereafter, we set out on a drive along the Dandong waterfront that took us past a very new, very empty, township. The apartments and public buildings remain unoccupied. A magnificent bridge from Dandong to DPRK is unopened to traffic. It appears there was a plan to develop an economic zone integrating Dandong and the northern border area of DPRK. On the North Korean side, the project was said to be spearheaded by Kim Jong-Un’s once-powerful (and subsequently executed) uncle. In Dandong, development plans have been temporarily suspended, as attested by the presence of the bridge to nowhere. If the northern border of DPRK opens to trade and investment from Dandong and beyond, the effect on Korean society could be transformative. Questions to explore: Under what conditions will DPRK’s ruling elite permit such a zone to flourish? How can ordinary citizens benefit from an economic boom through increased trade in goods and services with China?
The international border includes stretches of land with double fencing. On the Korean side lie fields under cultivation, punctuated intermittently with thatched bunkers. On the Chinese side, posters with bold red characters proclaim a stable and peaceful border. China appears to be uneasy donning the mantle of elder brother to an increasingly truculent younger sibling. As China is ever more integrated into global trade, and assumes leadership roles internationally, North Korea lags behind in social and economic indicators. If the North Korean TV I saw in the hotel lobby could be considered a cultural indicator, the ruling regime comes off as a set-piece from a different era. Pyongyang’s alienating rhetoric, and its predictable saber-rattling (or missile-rumbling!) of last week, were met with Washington’s equally predictable dismissal that it was the “world’s most irresponsible and isolated regime”. China is under pressure from the US to do more for DPRK’s de-nuclearization and eventual “normalization”.
Any visitor to Dandong’s waterfront can tell that China offers a humanitarian and economic lifeline to DPRK. However, it is unclear to experts and laymen alike just how much political influence Beijing wields over Pyongyang. Publicly, China has struggled to balance its responsibility as a Veto power and regional leader, with its treaty obligation to Pyongyang in the face of the latter’s provocative actions such as surprise missile launches, or the 2010 sinking of a South Korean boat. Longtime Korea observers warn that if DPRK were provoked, it would shut out PRC, and a vital communication link would be lost to members of the Six-Party Talks.
Economically speaking, China is well-served by keeping the bridges, Dandong port, and other channels open. Dandong is the hub of over 70% of DPRK’s international trade activity. This figure does not cover the black and grey market in cross-border trade. In terms of human capital, tens of thousands of North Korean workers and economic migrants serving in Liaoning’s factories, its garment industry, trading sector, and hospitality sector (waitressing, mainly). This arrangement constitutes a key revenue-source for DPRK, while providing low-cost labor to China. Dandong and its environs register a high density of restaurants and businesses owned by huaqiao, or Chinese citizens of Korean ethnicity.
In my casual conversation with Dandong locals, I sensed distrust towards the North Korean leadership, but a mix of condescension and sympathy towards the citizens, known in China as Chaoxianren.Quite a few observed matter-of-factly that the present arrangement was more beneficial to the North Koreans than to themselves, but accepted that their neighbors needed this support. Nonetheless, for Dandong to transform into a Shenzhen, accelerated trade with South Korea was the way to go. I noticed that Japan did not figure in this vision of progress.
All things considered, Chinese engagement with its peninsular neighbor seems a sensible – and humane – option at this point. Engagement is also a political choice. China cannot, and possibly will not, make any unilateral destabilizing move. There is the matter of a shared history: the two countries are bound by a mutual security pact, and their communist parties share a close relationship. Moreover, North Korea is situated in plain sight, with its 24 million people, buffering China from American military bases in East Asia.
That evening, as our group gathered around a table at a North Korean restaurant, the Korean peninsula and its people were not academic abstractions: they were cognitively closer, and more real, than ever before.
Indira P. Ravindran, adjunct professor, Webster University’s China program; and Shanghai-based independent researcher.
