Minder gap

By John Burton

To paraphrase Captain Renault in the movie Casablanca: I was shocked, shocked to learn that the foreign media scrum that recently descended on Pyongyang to cover the Korean Worker's Party was subject to tight control by their minders.

This at least appeared to be news to the 130 foreign journalists who were invited to North Korea, judging by the kvetching they expressed on social media and which rapidly become a dominant theme in their coverage.

Really, how could they be surprised? It almost suggests a touching sense of naivety to assume otherwise. Moreover, many of those on the media trip are well-seasoned Korea hands, having already traipsed to North Korea several times before and having been subject to the standard tour of Pyongyang, including factories, museums, theJuche Tower and showcase department stores.

Perhaps they thought this time would be different, taking the official government invitation as an indication that they would be allowed into the Party Congress to witness the ceremonial crowning of Kim Jong-un. Instead, they were carted off to an electric cable factory on the opening day of the event, although a few journalists were admitted for 10 minutes to see the congress on its last day.

But such things have happened before. In 2012, North Korea invited a group of foreign reporters to see a rocket launch, but they were kept well away from the launch site and did not realize the rocket test had failed until they were rung up and informed by their editors overseas.

The foreign reporters who went to the party congress were clearly frustrated and took it out on their minders by asking them provocative questions. "Wouldn't it be better if you could choose your own government?" one asked. "Doesn't [the nuclear-weapons program] take resources away from ordinary people's needs?" questioned another.

Spare a thought for the poor minders. You live in a totalitarian regime and you have a relatively low-level job showing around antagonistic foreign journalists who browbeat you with topics that you sensibly want to avoid discussing. It's a job that has more downside than upside.

JamilAnderlini, the Asia editor of the Financial Times, took a more sympathetic view than most in describing the dilemma that his minder was facing. "When talking about the self-criticism he would have to do after all the unflattering reports the journalists had written, he explained he would ask to be sent to a farm, rather than a coal mine, because nobody ever comes back from the coal mines," Anderlini wrote.

The minder then added: "I actually have a better idea ― instead of letting you fly tomorrow, I will recommend that all of you journalists be sent to the mines!"

No wonder, one minder told Anna Fifield from the Washington Post, "You ask too many questions. It's a little hard to work with you." Translation: "My job ― and maybe my life ― is on the line."

Instead, "I don't know" was the most common response by minders when asked questions by the foreign journalists about details of the party congress. I've gotten a similar response when I've asked sensitive questions to the PR teams at the chaebol.

North Korean minders came in all shapes. Many are in their 20s and 30s and often speak excellent English. When I first went to North Korea in 1995 to attend the Arirang Games, our tour guides turned out to be students from the Pyongyang School of Mechanical Engineering who had been drafted in to cover a shortage of minders because they could speak English. They were an accompanying bunch and serenaded us with a rendition of "Bridge over Troubled Waters."

On the other hand, another colleague during that trip was assigned a former soldier who spoke English because he had helped train the "dreaded" Fifth Brigade of the Zimbabwe Army that gained notoriety for their brutality in putting down an internal rebellion in the 1980s.

The issue of the vulnerability of the minders raises a moral question for any foreign journalist who visits North Korea. Criticizing the Pyongyang regime for reporters is easy, but their negative comments could place their minders in jeopardy. The minders will be blamed by their superiors for not having done their job in persuading foreign journalists to portray North Korea in the most positive light. The foreign journalists will not suffer the consequences of their criticism, aside from possibly being expelled. The minder is often left holding the bag.

If the shoe is placed on the other foot, journalists are frankly no different. Try persuading foreign journalists to critically report, for example, on the dynastic politics of Singapore or the royal family succession in Thailand, and most will shy away because they fear being sued or charged with lese majeste, if not losing their jobs.

Journalists are only truly courageous if they are able to fully accept the unpleasant consequences of speaking truth to power. So next time, please don't blame your North Korean minder.

John Burton, a former Korea correspondent for the Financial Times, is now a Seoul-based independent journalist and media consultant. He can be reached at johnburtonft@yahoo.com.