The Double Invasion

From Old Baldy to the Yalu, North Korea lies devastated by war and despondent in the grip of unchallenged Communism. Geneva proved that it is likely to stay that way. But amidst the ruins, according to the reports of neutral observers and Korean agents, a strange, unequal competition is going on between Russian and Chinese influence.

The Bear's Share. In the year since Panmunjom, between 5,000,000 and 7,000,000 hungry, mostly jobless, often nomadic North Koreans* have watched a prosperous brood of Russians, Red Chinese and assorted satellites descend upon their country's rubble, poking through blasted factories, tinkering with ancient generators and spinning frames, burrowing into blocked-off coal mines. Last week about 8,000 North Koreans were at work converting downtown Pyongyang into the showplace of a new Red colony, with the usual shiny Stalin Boulevard and a marble International Hotel (185 rooms with bath), in preparation for a big Soviet celebration on Aug. 15. "The fronts of houses and buildings, at least," warned Pyongyang newspapers, Potemkin-style, "should be repaired and made presentable."

According to Pyongyang radio, more than 700 Russian and European satellite technicians are already working in North Korea. Pyongyang propagandists dwell every day upon the affairs of the Soviet set: "Soviet Engineer Vandalenko is tirelessly restoring the Kim Chaik ironworks . . . Engineer Uburov is in charge at the Supung power plant, which is fast rising from the rubble."

The Russians are shipping in lathes and cranes, turbines and compressors. They are rebuilding damaged factories inside their shells (notably the big Songjin steel plant, which now produces about 20% of North Korean steel), and they have also brought in new factories and installed them complete. The reconstruction is in its early stage, but the Russian objective is clear: establish control of North Korea's heavy industry, and win with it lasting primacy in the new Red colony.

Scraps for the Dragon. By contrast, Red China, which did most of the fighting, is having to make do with the leftovers. Chinese technicians are put to work not on factories but on houses, theaters and meeting halls. The Russians gave the Chinese only one big colonial job--transportation. Hungry Red China also got the job of sending food to starving North Korea.

The Chinese are getting the scraps of political influence in the new Red colony. Of North Korea's top four ministers, three are Soviet citizens, while the fourth, Premier Kim II Sung, is a Russian puppet of long standing. Of the seven Deputy Premiers, six belong to the Russian-controlled "Soviet faction," while only one pays allegiance to the "Yenan faction," as the Red China side is called. Of the 15-man Presidium, ten members are "Soviets" against only two "Yenans" and three local North Korean Reds. Even culturally, the Chinese are in eclipse (Pyongyang high-school students have to spend one hour a day learning Russian).

North Koreans are helpless against the double invasion, but there have been stirrings of unrest among the work gangs. "Citizens are not welcoming the Russian and Chinese assistance with the correct spirit," admitted Pyongyang radio a couple of weeks ago. "They have failed to establish close relations with the friendly technical personnel . . ." The Communists are, however, well accustomed to putting up with that inevitable discomfort of colonialism, the dark hostility of the governed.

* Between 500,000 and 800,000 North Koreans were casualties during the war; between 1,500,000 and 3,500,000 fled to the south.

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