Re: Life in North Korea's Gulag

On Fri, 30 Nov 2007 11:45:19 -0800 (PST), Capitalist Pig
<cochon-capitaliste@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:

WSJ COMMENTARY


By SHIN DONG-HYOK
November 30, 2007; Page A16

Seoul, Korea

I was born a prisoner on Nov. 19, 1982, and until two years ago, North
Korea's Political Prison Camp No. 14 was the only place I had ever
called home.

The camp, established in 1965, is located in Kaechon, about 50 miles
north of Pyongyang. When it first opened, the government rushed to
fill it with prisoners. Many were charged and detained regardless of
when or what kind of "crime" was committed.

Countless others were imprisoned simply because they were relatives of
those charged. Under North Korea's "Three Generation Rule," up to
three generations of the criminal's family must be imprisoned as
traitors.

I was a slave under club and fist. It was a world where love,
happiness, joy or resistance found no meaning. This was the situation
I found myself in until I escaped to China, and then South Korea.
There, I was told why I was imprisoned by my distant relatives, who
had escaped to the South during the Korean War.

In the midst of that conflict, two of my father's brothers fled to
freedom. Because of this "traitorous" crime, my grandparents, father
and uncle back in the North were found guilty of treason and crimes
against the state, and were arrested. My father and uncle were
separated from each other and my grandparents, and were stripped of
all identification and property.

I am still not sure why my mother was incarcerated. While serving
their sentences in Kaechon, my parents were allowed to marry.
(Sometimes, inmates are given permission to marry if they work very
hard and find favor in the eyes of the State Security agents). This
was how both my brother and I were born as political prisoners.

Although we were a family by fiat, there was nothing familial about
us. We showed no affection for one another, nor was that even
possible.

When I was 14 years old, my mother and brother were arrested while
trying to escape. Although I had no idea they were planning to run
away, I was detained in another part of prison. The State Security
agents there demanded that I reveal what my family was conspiring to
do. I was tortured severely for seven months. To this day, I still
carry the scars on my back and shudder at the memory of that time.

On Nov. 29, 1996, my mother and brother were found guilty of treason
and sentenced to public execution. I was taken outside and forced to
witness their deaths.

Upon returning back to Kaechon, I finished what passes for a middle
school in the prison and began working in one of many factories on the
prison grounds making garments. It was here that I met another inmate
who had once lived outside of the prison camp. He told me stories of
the outside world, and I increasingly longed to become part of it. We
plotted our escape and on Jan. 2, 2005, we attempted to run away. I
was successful, but he fell on the prison's barbed wire. I glanced
back once; he appeared to be dead.

As I sit here writing this op-ed comfortably in Seoul, I can't help
but wonder at the vastly different lives South Koreans and inmates of
Political Prison Camp No. 14 live. In South Korea, although there is
disappointment and sadness, there is also so much joy, happiness and
comfort. In Kaechon, I did not even know such emotions existed. The
only emotion I ever knew was fear: fear of beatings, fear of
starvation, fear of torture and fear of death.

Even though I did not escape Kaechon expressly to inform the world
about such conditions, I feel that I cannot keep silent. Today, tens
of thousands are suffering silently in government-sponsored political
prison camps in North Korea. Inmates are given only enough food to be
kept on the verge of starvation, and they often fight with one another
in hopes of getting one more meal. Many people have resorted to eating
grass, tree bark, clay, rodents and insects. Torture is open and
rampant, and beatings occur every hour of every day. Women often
undergo forced abortions and children have no childhood.

These political prisoners live with no dignity as human beings. They
are treated, and taught, that they are merely beasts without
intelligence, emotions or dreams. If a prisoner attempts to escape, he
is severely punished and will most likely be publicly executed.

Humans should never be treated this way. It is time for us to stand up
for those being persecuted in North Korean gulags. They do not deserve
to die in silence. We must protest these violent acts against
humanity. We must become their voice.

Mr. Shin was born and lived in a North Korean gulag until 2005. He is
the author of the Korean language book "I Was a Political Prisoner at
Birth in North Korea" (DataBase Center for North Korean Human Rights,
2007).

I read a story awhile back about a North Korean who was working near
the DMZ and found a noodle wrapper that had blown across the border
from South Korea. It came as a revelation that the South could be so
prosperous that it could afford to sell noodles packaged in a wrapper.
He realized he had been lied to, and defected.
.

Relevant Pages