The Second Kaesong Industrial Complex (1)
Conference Room, House of Freedom, Panmunjom.
Han Sang-woo, director of exchange and cooperation at the Ministry of Unification, was holding talks with Choi Myeong-cheol, head of the North-South Planning Office of the North’s Committee for External Economic Affairs.
As the two men leading the working-level delegations exchanged brief pleasantries, the real discussion began.
“Listen, Mr. Han. In our republic, before we connect the North and South railways, there’s something we want made absolutely clear.”
“And what exactly do you want to make clear?”
“Your South Korean president, Comrade Kim Jin-cheol, only has two years left in office, doesn’t he? If a new president in two years decides not to connect the railways, that would be a serious matter, wouldn’t it?”
“If the project moves forward quickly, even a new president won’t be able to stop it.”
“And can you take responsibility for that, Comrade Han?”
“……”
Han Sang-woo had met with North Korea many times before.
Back then, he’d been nothing more than a junior staffer.
But then, as now, North Korea’s attitude never changed, and it always wanted far too much.
There was clearly another motive this time too.
“Do you have something to propose to us?”
Han Sang-woo asked point-blank.
“Hahaha. I like how straightforward you are.”
“Then say what you came to say.”
“Our republic has already connected its railways to Russia, you know. That means one can already board a train in our republic and go all the way to Europe.”
“……”
“But if the North-South railways are connected, isn’t it South Korea that benefits? Even if you look at it purely in numbers, the figures don’t add up.”
“Connecting the North and South railways will definitely help North Korea’s economic growth as well. According to the data we’ve analyzed—”
Han Sang-woo tried to explain the economic advantages for the North as laid out by the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport and the Ministry of Economy and Finance, but Choi Myeong-cheol cut him off.
“That was written entirely from South Korea’s point of view.”
“The World Bank and the U.N. Economic and Social Commission have both reached the same conclusion.”
“Listen, Mr. Han. Why is South Korea so lacking in subjectivity?”
“……?”
“Why should we let lackeys of American imperialism sit in judgment over the affairs of our republic and South Korea?”
“……”
Han Sang-woo felt irritation rising in him, but he showed nothing on his face.
He’d dealt with this sort of hair-splitting for the sake of dragging out a point many times before.
“Listen, Comrade Han. We do want to connect the North and South railways. But before that, we’re urging the South to take more concrete action.”
“What kind of action?”
“Once the railways are connected, freight can be transported by train instead of by ship, can’t it? So in our republic, we want to build a new economic cooperation zone where the train line passes through.”
“By economic cooperation zone, you mean an industrial complex like the Kaesong Industrial Complex?”
“That’s right.”
It was not something Han Sang-woo could decide on his own.
After the talks ended, as soon as Kim Jin-cheol was briefed on the contents, he gathered his aides.
Even after Seo Seong-guk’s death, public opinion still leaned heavily against North Korea, but the more that happened, the more eager Kim Jin-cheol became about the North-South railway.
He firmly believed that once the railway project began in earnest, his approval ratings—those stubbornly flat numbers—would finally start to rise.
But this working-level meeting had been disappointing in the extreme.
For Kim Jin-cheol, who had his eyes fixed only on the railway, a new economic cooperation zone felt abrupt, and compared with the railway it seemed almost pitifully insignificant.
More than anything else, now that North Korea had unilaterally shut down the Kaesong Industrial Complex, it was doubtful the public would accept building a new one.
“The Kaesong complex is still shut down. Do you really think the public will accept this?”
“……”
Kim Jin-cheol voiced his concern, and the other aides felt the same.
They said it was for the railway project, but public criticism would erupt all the same.
“Haa...”
Kim Jin-cheol let out a long sigh.
And several of the people gathered there thought the same thing to themselves.
It had been wrong from the beginning.
Hadn’t DJ himself once said it? That a politician needed both the problem-consciousness of a scholar and the sense of reality of a merchant.
The North-South railway had been proposed first by North Korea.
And Kim Jin-cheol had gone ahead and accepted the proposal without hesitation.
After that, he had laid bare his own ambition without restraint.
There is nothing more amateurish in negotiations between states than showing how desperately you want something.
Especially when the other side is North Korea.
Of course the initiative would end up in Pyongyang’s hands.
“Your Excellency. There’s no need to worry too much.”
At that moment, Chief of Staff Jeong Seong-woo spoke up.
“Do you have some good idea?”
“If I may be so bold, the construction industry is collapsing one after another right now, isn’t it? If domestic construction firms are the ones building the new industrial complex, public opinion can be turned around.”
Kim Jin-cheol smiled, and Jeong Seong-woo continued.
“The industry would actually welcome it. Not only railway construction, but also a large-scale industrial complex—wouldn’t that double the amount of work available?”
“Exactly. When you think about it, it’s one plus one, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Hahaha. Good. Director Jeong, I’ll need you to put some muscle behind this.”
“I’ll meet with some of my juniors.”
Before entering politics, Jeong Seong-woo had been an anchor on terrestrial television news, and ever since becoming a lawmaker he had maintained good relations with journalists.
And on Kim Jin-cheol’s face, a measure of relief appeared.
He thought again that appointing Jeong Seong-woo as Chief of Staff had been a very good decision indeed.
The next day, the 8 o’clock news on the network where Jeong Seong-woo had once worked gave heavy coverage to the downturn in the construction industry, and interviews with people from the field—who had requested anonymity—were broadcast with their faces blurred.
Starting with terrestrial news, the major dailies also flooded the papers with articles about the construction industry’s slump, and naturally the comments beneath them filled with talk of the North-South railway.
The public mood slowly began to shift, and Kim Jin-cheol summoned Minister of Unification Kim Do-gyun, ordering him to hold a high-level meeting.
He intended to make sure the spike in favorable opinion was pinned down before it could slip away.
A few days later, the Ministry of Unification requested a high-level meeting, and the North replied that it would be held in secret at Kim Il Sung Villa in Goseong County, North Gyeongsang Province.
Then, two days before the talks, the North informed them that its representative would be none other than Ri Yong-sik, the former commander of the Fourth Corps of the Korean People’s Army and now the head of the Workers’ Party Organization and Guidance Department.
Conference Room, Kim Il Sung Villa, Geumgangsan Guryong Falls District, Goseong County, Gangwon Province, North Korea.
Minister of Unification Kim Do-gyun exchanged greetings with Ri Yong-sik, the North’s representative.
“Good to see you, Mr. Kim. Ri Yong-sik, head of the Workers’ Party Organization and Guidance Department. Today, I’ve come here specially as the Central Committee’s special representative for North-South negotiations.”
“I’m Kim Do-gyun, Minister of Unification.”
“Since this is a private meeting, let’s speak openly and frankly.”
“Very well.”
“As we said in the working-level talks, our republic’s position is that a new economic cooperation zone should be built.”
“Building a new industrial complex would incur substantial costs. Wouldn’t it be better to restart the Kaesong Industrial Complex instead?”
It wasn’t sincere.
It was a lie meant to draw out Ri Yong-sik’s reaction.
“The Kaesong complex is already outdated. And our republic’s position is that an economic zone should be located in a city through which the railway passes, where the benefits will be greater.”
“Our government is concerned that a situation like the shutdown of the Kaesong complex could happen again.”
“You needn’t worry about that.”
“I’d like not to, but our government needs measures in place to ensure that nothing like that happens again.”
“I understand South Korea’s concern. Then how about this?”
“……?”
Ri Yong-sik paused for a moment before continuing.
“We bring in some international capital.”
It was an unexpected proposal, and Ri Yong-sik went on.
“We attract overseas investment into the new economic cooperation zone. If foreign companies set up shop inside the zone, then it’s no longer just an affair between our republic and South Korea—it becomes an international industrial complex. The whole international community will be watching. Wouldn’t that put South Korea a little more at ease?”
“……”
Kim Do-gyun lost the ability to speak for a moment.
Ri Yong-sik’s statement was one of the cards Kim Do-gyun had prepared.
He had come armed with several measures to prevent a repeat of the Kaesong shutdown, and one of them was to bring in a portion of overseas capital to the complex.
But he had expected to be the one to raise that idea himself; he had never imagined he’d hear it first.
Meanwhile, at that very moment, the National Security Office was as busy as ever, and as soon as the meeting ended, Ko Jeong-un was summoned to the presidential office.
Ko Jeong-un was informed of the full details of the talks in the president’s office, and after returning to the National Security Office, he called Kang-hae at once.
Knock, knock.
“You wanted to see me?”
“The North’s representative is Ri Yong-sik. I take it you know that name.”
“Yes. I do.”
Two days earlier, North Korea had announced its representative, and Kang-hae, who worked at the National Security Office, had heard the name as well.
The moment he heard Ri Yong-sik’s name again—the very man who had been a target for elimination in the Typhoon Operation Kang-hae had once taken part in—images of the intelligence agency comrades who had died in that operation flashed through his mind, followed by memories of former NIS Director Yoo Jeong-hun and the people who had collaborated with him while leaking information to Ri Yong-sik.
“How are you feeling right now?”
“A little confused.”
It was Kang-hae’s honest answer.
He was confused.
About the fact that Ri Yong-sik, whom he had almost forgotten, was still alive.
About the reality that left him unable to do anything.
And about whether, if he could do something, he ought to carry it out.
“Even after Typhoon Operation, the NIS and the Defense Intelligence Command investigated Ri Yong-sik.”
Ko Jeong-un’s words were true.
Ri Yong-sik, who had become First Vice Department Director of the Workers’ Party Organization and Guidance Department, was now part of the North’s core leadership.
Of course he was a subject of investigation.
After Typhoon Operation, Ri Yong-sik had been promoted to First Vice Department Director of the Organization and Guidance Department, and not long after that he had been elevated again to department head.
And the NIS and the Defense Intelligence Command had dug into his past.
“Ri Yong-sik was already part of North Korea’s core power structure even before he became corps commander. More recently, it’s been revealed that he was deeply involved when the Kaesong Industrial Complex was shut down and the inter-Korean liaison office was blown up.”
“……”
Kang-hae listened without saying a word.
“But here’s the thing. They say the idea to build this new industrial complex also came from Ri Yong-sik.”
“……?”
“Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“It does.”
“The North’s military, you know, may be political no matter how you look at it, but the same man who led the shutdown of the industrial complex now wants to build a new one. That’s suspicious.”
“……”
“A new working-level delegation will be formed soon. You’ll be joining it as well.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
After saying that, Kang-hae left the director’s office.
As Ko Jeong-un had said, something about it was suspicious.
It felt as though something hidden was waiting beneath the surface.
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