Asia Rights

Professor Kyungmook Kim

Chukyo University

Australia is a huge land. The land is vast, the population, however, is small; a point which hits home each time you travel the roads outside of one of the few large cities, the further you travel the more difficult it is to see people. It’s possible to drive for hours without meeting another car, a strange feeling indeed for those of us used to a more bustling environment. Driving into an inhabited area can sometimes feel like stumbling across an oasis in the desert. That’s not to say, however, that rural life is all predictable.

As one quickly realises, the local shopping mall is usually teeming with life; if there’s one thing you can count on, in these rural pastures, it’s the presence of a Woolworths, Coles or a Westfield. Whether it’s in the sprawling centres of Sydney and Melbourne, or in an oasis of inland New South Wales, the presence of multi-national supermarket chains is quite astonishing. For many small Australian towns, these giant stores have all but replaced the smaller, family stores of bygone years. ‘A-town’ (all names appearing in this article are pseudonyms), of New South Wales, is no exception.

While you were sleeping

It’s a Sunday night, approaching midnight, out of the darkness of the A-town night emerges a large, slightly beaten-up car. It pulls into the car park of the shopping mall and comes to a stop, the headlights shutting down, once again allowing the shadows to move in. The air is cool, perhaps that’s the reason the bars are closed and the drunks gone home. The town is silent– there’s nobody around. Three figures emerge from the car. Without hesitation all three move silently to the delivery entry of the supermarket’s far side and, in moments, they have breached the building. As the lights of the interior illuminate the three mysterious men it is possible to see they are Asian, middle aged, and uniform clad. In any rural Australian town finding migrants is a difficult task, so immediately one has to ask, who on earth are these men? What could they possibly be doing in the middle of Australia? And what brings them here in the middle of the night?

Times passes, the sparrows start chirping and the magpies begin to screech, the first rays of the morning sun start to creep over the buildings, like an old man slowly reaching for the morning paper. It’s just turned 8 o’clock and again the three men emerge. Climbing back into their car, the engine roars to life and moments later they have disappeared over the horizon.

Again, that same night, they arrive again in the car park of the shopping mall and the process repeats itself. Every night, while others are sleeping, these three men enter the shopping mall and, without fail, begin the process of cleaning the giant supermarket. As others are waking up, they are preparing to leave and return home. Every night of every day, 365 days a year, these three men work to make the shopping environment more comfortable for consumers.

At home with the strangers from A-town

About an hour has passed since they arrived home. Parked outside their home, which is located not 4 or so kilometres from the supermarket, is the same slightly beat-up car which sits in the mall car park each night. Propped up against the fence which demarcates pavement from garden is a white and blue sign boldly proclaiming that the property is FOR SALE! From the outside it’s impossible to distinguish if the house is occupied or not. The property itself seems well enough maintained, the weeds growing in the garden give no clues as to who lives within. There are some signs of life, the front door; opening to the hallway is slightly ajar. Through the gap it’s possible to discern the figures of the three men glimpsed leaving the mall. Gathered around the kitchen table they are sharing what appears to be a plastic container of crispy kimchee, a medium size pan-fried fish and a smaller, green bowl of bean curd paste. Breakfast is being washed down with a bottle of Jim Beam Black– neat. For our three mysterious cleaners, this is the end of another hard day. A few cups of 40% bourbon will bring some much welcome sleep.

The three of them harbour indescribable stories. Life before arrival in this small town was hard, very hard. Even once they arrived, if it hadn’t been for the help of the ethnic Korean churches, they might never have made it this far. As everyone knows, industrial cleaning is a vital part of every society’s existence. It’s possible to see in the larger cities too, Korean men and women, wrapped in fluorescent overalls, cleaning the floors and bumpers of each of the supermarket chains. Unshaven with dark skin and bags under their eyes: another tell-tale sign of the working holiday labourer. Back in their homes, whether in a suburb of Sydney or inner city Melbourne, most of them will have a ‘wo-hol visa’ tucked safely in the pages of their passport.

In the rural areas, out where the taxis don’t ride, it’s unusual to find the likes of these three men, working the jobs others don’t want. So who are these men? Two are recent arrivals from North Korea who settled in South Korea. After a short time in South Korea they once again left for new shores, this time Australia. The third man is from China, he is ethnic Korean-Chinese. These men share several characteristics; all are fathers and all have wives and children who remain in South Korea.

Why did you leave South Korea?

After arriving in South Korea Mr Chul Kim set up a new life for himself in the South-eastern province of Gyeongsang. Here he lived for six years until, in his own words, “South Korean society just become too much for me.”

South Korean society just became intolerable. South Koreans have no loyalty. If a friend gets in trouble, no one cares. Everyone pretends to help, but no one actually does anything. I saw this kind of situation so often.

For my son it’s been hard too. He went to school in South Korea for a while and it was tough for him. Then he came to Australia with me and attended school here, but he couldn’t adapt well so he went back to Korea. Now, thankfully, he’s doing much better in Seoul and seems to be enjoying school.

While dad has clearly found life in South Korea very tough, his son seems to be making friends and enjoying life now. For Mr. Kim, however, things haven’t got easier, as he is separated from his family. As his son reaches his teenage years, it’s unknown whether he will continue to enjoy life in South Korea. What is for certain, for Mr Kim, is that he desperately wants to avoid going back living with ‘people without loyalty’, a trait he feels he could never understand.

Each month Mr Kim makes about 4 thousand dollars. The cleaning company pays for their accommodation so each month it’s possible to send back about two thousand dollars to his son and wife. In order to do this, however, Mr Kim lives with severe restrictions on the kind of life he can lead. Outdoor activities are limited to fishing at the nearby beach, while the remaining time is often passed watching Korean dramas, downloaded whenever required. Smoking, a luxury previously enjoyed by all three men, is now only done on occasion, the price of cigarettes in Australia causing the men to put a lid on their habits. For the three of them, their bodies may be in Australia, but their minds are elsewhere, “Honestly, no matter how you look at it, our lives were probably better back in North Korea. There’s nothing we can do about that now. I do know something though, I never want to go back to South Korea” emphasizes Mr Kim.

What should we do now?

In the future, it’s fair to say that more North Koreans will re-migrate from South Korea. Among those, if the situation doesn’t improve for North Koreans in South Korea, we may further see the increase in individuals return-migrating to North Korea. It’s then likely that we will see a rise in the number of North Koreans picked up by immigration in countries such as Canada and Australia, having failed in their attempts to enter as asylum seekers.

It’s reported that there are already over 1000 North Koreans who have migrated to North America and Europe. It wasn’t long ago that the Australian media reported that more than 70 North Koreans had already been deported from Australia. It’s fast becoming clear that the plight of North Korean defectors is no longer someone else’s problem, it’s now everyone’s.

Markus Bell

It’s a Friday afternoon, perhaps approaching 4pm. Next to me, crowded around a small, white table, five Korean teenage boys are sharing kebabs, across from them several Korean girls, also clad in school uniform, are making short work of their smoothies. Mall shoppers are gliding back and forth in and around the tables; white noise fills the air, wrestling with the smells of various ethnic snacks for the attention of potential customers. This could be any mall in South Korea, these could be any students in South Korea, taking a break between English hagwon and Taekwondo lessons. Except, I realise as I come to my senses, this is Australia. To be more precise, this is Strathfield.

It has been almost a year since I was in Yanji, Northeast China, a place which left a deep impression on me because of the overwhelming Korean influence in the foods served in the restaurants, the music played in the bars and the neon signs flashing Hangul script that lit up the evenings. I hadn’t expected to find such an equally impressive display of Korean cultural expression in Australasia.

The history of  this small, inner-West suburb of Sydney goes back to the late 18^th century, when the land was claimed by English settlers, no doubt much to the surprise of the Aboriginals who had occupied the Sydney basin area for a long time prior. Perhaps the most fascinating period emerged following the end of ‘White Australia’ Immigration policies and the gradual movement of migrants from various Asian countries to the area. The 2006 census of Strathfield reported that out of a total population of just over 20,400 persons, over 50% were born overseas, making this one of the most culturally diverse suburbs of Sydney. Of particular interest to me, as I order a second cup of green tea and tried my best not to eavesdrop on the conversation of the five Korean ajumma who had occupied several tables without making even a conciliatory attempt to order anything, is the fact that migrants born in South Korea make up the largest contingent of ‘outsider’s on the inside’. The fact that 8.6% of the population of the ‘Strass’ (스트라스), as it is known by Koreans, is South Korean born, that the streets are lined with beauty parlours (미용실, 네일 케어숍) and BBQ houses (삼겹살집) makes me wonder, what kind of Korean community exists in Australia?

Without falling into derivative essentialisms of an ethnic group, and taking care to avoid such problematic theories as the ‘Model minority’ used to describe Koreans in the US., it is worth considering how such an area came to earn the unofficial epithet of ‘Korea Town’ and what kind of relationship Koreans in Australia have with the wider community?

The numbers of Koreans in Australia has continued to grow since the 1970s when a census recorded less than 500 Koreans nationwide. The mid-1970s saw the first ‘waves’ of Korean migration, primarily concentrated in Sydney. A majority of migrants in these cases were either ‘Amnesty migrants’– over-stayers who were granted residency and stayed in Australia working a variety of ‘3-D jobs’, or so-called ‘Container migrants’, who arrived with skills and quickly started businesses in the Sydney area.[i]

Following on the heels of the recovery of the Korean economy at the beginning of the new millennium, Australia has proven a desirable destination for young Koreans taking advantage of the one year working visa and/or the study visa offered by the Australian government. Migration theorists may argue that the contemporary character of the Korean community in Sydney is far more transient than it used to be, with Australia viewed as a one to two year English language experience rather than a place to settle long term. Yet the ubiquitousness of the Korean-owned Japanese sushi house or the prevalence of K-pop in the air in several of Sydney’s inner suburbs speaks to the stability of this migrant community.

Christianity, as with Korean migrant communities all over the world, has played an important role in both encouraging migrants to come to Australia and permitting a smoother settlement for those unwilling or unable to ‘go-native.’ Recent estimates put the number of Korean Protestant churches in Sydney at over 150.[ii] Acting as a bridge between the sending community, Korea, and the receiving country, Australia, these organisations provide theological training, material and emotional support, and loans and scholarships to members of the Korean community in Sydney.

The Korean community, as with any minority that begins to move out of the shadows, has attracted both sunshine and storms; several reports in the Australian media threw light on the ‘growing number of Korean prostitutes’ working in Sydney,[iii] while other stories have highlighted the success of Koreans in small businesses.[iv] Certainly, as Koreans continue to make a deeper footprint in Australian society, more attention, good and bad, will come the way of this community.

Several waves of migration from Korea to Sydney, facilitated by a liberalising of Australian immigration laws for ‘Amnesty seeker’s and ‘Entrepreneurial immigrants’ and the effects of ongoing chain migration have undoubtedly contributed to the scene I described at the beginning of this article. For better or worse, the Korean community in Sydney appears to be both vibrant and growing. Critics may argue that the ‘Strass’ is evidence Koreans are not assimilating/integrating with the wider community, and perhaps that is true. Given the contribution of Koreans in Sydney to the fields of commerce, food and culture, and religion, however, one has to wonder if it really matters if Mr. Kim from Strathfield doesn’t yet know the words to Waltzing Matilda, and struggles to recall how many snags are needed for the perfect barbeque.

Professor Kyungmook Kim

Chukyo University.

The ‘K-wave’, or hallyu, as it is known in Korean, has recently been elevated to the heights of worldwide phenomenon. It has been almost 10 years since Korean drama and K-pop started catching the attention of large audiences throughout Asia. This year, the K-wave phenomenon traversed the boundaries of Asia, causing a stir in countries from the United States to London, when a 35 year-old entertainer known as ‘PSY’ stunned the world with ‘Gangnam Style’. This catchy tune, along with the funky dance moves that accompany it, has, as of November 2012, netted over 600,000,000 views on YouTube. This stands as a YouTube record and ensures that this pop song will certainly go down in music history as a phenomenon.

Together with K-drama and K-pop, K-cinema has been playing a pivotal role in initiating today’s K-wave boom. Unlike K-drama or K-pop, however,  the cinematic genre offers what could perhaps be described as a more polished taste of Korean creativity, in terms of structured storytelling and an industry that tests boundaries of acceptability in Korea and beyond.

Understanding Inter-Korean relations using K-cinema

I often find it useful to use K-cinema as a lens through which to view the ebb and flow of South Korea’s fast-changing trends. From this I can act as a walking Wikipedia for my foreign friends, informing them on the latest from South Korea. I think it’s fair to say that the cultural contents of films, more often than not, reflect some of the problems that every society faces. When trying to compare different films by time periods, one should be able to understand some of problems of each era- the ‘ Zeitgeist’ of a time, if you will. Watching a film, therefore, can be a good educational tool to viewing social issues, the tensions between the two Koreas is no exception.

Many of the recent films on the topic of inter-Korean relations differ noticeably from those made prior to the 1990s, an era which saw a strengthened civil society and a toppling of authoritative governments in South Korea. Indeed, these earlier films tended to be used as a form of propaganda, expressing thinly veiled anti-communist orientations and anti-North Korean ideology.

Shiri (1999), JSA (2002), Brotherhood (2003) and Silmido (2003) are typical examples of a new voice prevalent in K-cinema. In these films, the audience finds humanism, even amongst those characters portrayed as enemies of the Korean peninsula; these films also encourage the audience to feel the collective pain of a people who have endured half a century of war, division, and ongoing violence.

This noticeable change in direction in terms of the content and ‘ethos’ of Korean cinematography can be assessed as a remarkable product of a concerted effort to understand “ another North Korea”, initiated by both the Kim Dae-Jung and Roh Mu-Hyun administrations under the name of the ‘Sunshine policy’. This approach was, more or less, adapted to the politics of the progressives, this did not preclude,  however, a bubbling undercurrent of criticism in regards to what was often labelled ‘appeasement politics’. It is interesting to note that the conservatives tarred the sunshine policy as naïve or pro-North Korean. In other words, even South Korea has experienced division into two polarized camps on the subject of Inter-Korean issues.

Socialization of North Korean defector issues

As mentioned above, most of the cultural content of contemporary South Korean cinematography reflects social issues that, previously, would probably have been considered taboo, this is also true with regards to the issue of North Korean defectors. Recent films such as, South of the border (2006), Crossing (2008), and The Journal of Musan (2010) are iconic films on North Korean defectors that have been, on the whole, well received by the South Korean public.

North Korean defector issues emerged on the radar of the international community in the mid 1990s. Since then, the number of North Koreans crossing the Sino-North Korean border seeking food, jobs, and security, has steadily risen. Some are asylum-seekers, others are opportunist migrants, what is clear is that there is no clear cut definition as to who is leaving North Korea and why. Their final destination, in most cases, is the southern half of the peninsula. As of 2012, over 24,000 North Koreans had arrived in South Korea. More people are waiting for their chance, staying in underground locations in China, Mongolia and Southeast Asia; some dreaming of freedom, others simply hoping to improve their lives.

Propaganda or Awareness raising?

These films are far from regarded as politically neutral. Indeed, as a film is a form of social media, a director attempts to deliver a certain message to the audience, whether covertly or, in some cases, without any overtures to neutrality. Regardless of the message embedded in each piece of work, different perspectives bring different interpretations and it is fair to say that no right answer has ever existed in terms of how such forms of media should be understood.

Unfortunately, sometimes concerned parties use North Korean defectors to pursue their own ends. Religious groups, journalists, public servants, brokers, academics and even human rights activists all have their own agenda. Inevitably, as the old saying goes, too many cooks can often spoil the broth and, with so many different groups involved, all out for their piece of the pie, things can get complicated. Indeed, Koreans may be more familiar with the over-staffed ship being coxed up the mountain (사공이 많으면 배가 산으로 간다), however you might express it, films on North Korean defectors are often “double-edged swords”–used as political propaganda on the one hand, and awareness raising tools on the other.

Crossing (2008), in my view, is the best film for those seeking an entry into North Korean defector issues. However, it is often misunderstood as a propaganda film. Although it would seem clear that the film itself is far away from politicized trumpeting, due to that fact that it is often hijacked by anti-North Korean activists it has garned a great deal of unfavourable attention. It is unfortunate that the film is often under-evaluated and misunderstood in this way. The film touches on a broad range of issues related to North Korean defectors, given that many of these are often interpreted through the gaze of a larger political agenda, this is perhaps both its strength and weakness. Let us, for a moment, consider the main points of this film:

The hero in Crossing, after overcoming a number of adversities, arrives in South Korea. Guided by brokers, NGOs, and church groups he had fled to a foreign embassy in China. Arrival in South Korea, however, marks the beginning of a further set of tragedies as our hero’s family is displaced and forever sundered. Who takes responsibility? Church groups? Brokers? Governments? The answer, sadly, is none of the above. Maybe it is our own responsibility. Also, we should bear in mind that sometimes, no matter how good the intentions, the results fail to live up to the expectations.

South of the border (2006) is a good indication of emerging new patterns of strategic chain migration for North Korean defectors. Many defectors try to bring their family members after them once they settle in the South. This often means incurring large debts to brokers with high risks; money to pay these costs come from settlement funds received from the South Korean government. It is important to ask here, how, exactly, do they contact and bring their family after them?

Thanks to the well documented effects of globalization, it is possible for many North Korean defectors to contact their family using mobile phones. Moreover, these networks appear to be incredibly diverse, encompassing transnational characteristics. Although there is not yet a great deal know about these border crossing networks, it seems apparent that these are the key channels linking North Koreans to the outside world. As moving within these networks, however, involves high risks, there is inevitably trouble between brokers and the clients.

So we might ask now, considering all the effort it takes to make it through China and onto South Korea, are they happy once they arrive? Perhaps one should start from the question of what happiness is. Without becoming too involved in existential back and forths, my answer to this is both YES and NO. YES in terms of physical improvements and NO if we are to consider the psychological aspects of settlement in the South. They came to South Korea for a better life, but they often discover that South Korea cannot fulfil their desires.

 The Journal of Musan is a must-see film. This 2010 production implicitly criticizes the indifference and hypocritical attitudes of South Koreans to their new arrivals. In his film, the director and hero, Park Jung-Bum, refrains from saying too many words, despite this, the film speaks volumes as to the difficulties that plague North Koreans after their arrival below the 38^th parallel.

About half of the defectors are supported by government welfare. Although they are able to receive free higher education until college, their graduation diplomas are often less value than the paper they are printed on in the competitive South Korean job market. Indeed, until recently, the social security numbers of North Korean defectors indicated their origins, marking them as outsiders and ensuring that they would have to be satisfied as second class citizens working in ‘3D industries’ (dirty, dangerous and difficult). Sadly, many South Koreans continue to hold the attitude that North Korean defectors should be grateful and simply endure these hardships, after all, it’s all on the tax payer’s coin.

Conclusion

In The Journal of Musan, the hero’s friend pleads with him; “I have to go to the United States, Seung-Chul… I have to go. You know I have to…”

Nowadays, more North Koreans who have settled in South Korea are trying their luck in overseas countries as ‘re-migrants’. This is the newest phenomenon we are privy to as watchers of the Korean diaspora. Their re-/ onward migration surely indicates to us that something is not quite right, that there are some serious difficulties facing North Korean defectors in South Korea. I strongly believe that there are many things to be learned from understanding these unprecedented problems using the kaleidoscopic lens of the Korean wave.

Markus Bell

There are currently over 24,000 North Koreans residing in South Korea. Many of this latest wave of migrants to arrive in South Korea since the end of the 1990’s have now lived south of the border for over ten years. With this in mind, it is hardly surprising that we are becoming accustomed to reading about the plight of North Koreans, both prior to and after their arrival in South Korea. Given that the mass movement of people is always a dynamic phenomenon, intimately tied to the vicissitudes of global power, it is not surprising that as the number of North Koreans in South Korea continues to grow, we are privileged to bear witness to various eccentricities emerging from within this particular migrant community. This article will describe two of these features, firstly, the relatively well-known ‘return migration’, and the newer ‘onward-migration,’ marking the North Korean migrant community as particularly interesting for both scholars in the field of migration studies and Koreo-philes of every persuasion.

It was difficult to avoid the fallout, when, in early summer 2012, Pak Jong-suk, a middle aged woman who had arrived in Seoul from North Korea six years prior, re-emerged in Pyongyang, presenting herself to the nation and the world as, “An ingrate who had betrayed my motherland.” The media in South Korea and beyond homed in on the story of this deluded woman who had got it all the wrong way round, as we all knew the South was where the milk and honey was and the North had nothing but suffering and strife. Ms. Pak was an object of curiosity for the mainstream media and the phenomenon of ‘returning’ quickly became the latest evidence that things were not working in terms of the settlement of North Korean refugees in South Korea. What the media failed to touch on, however, was that this was not a freak case at all, in fact, contrary to what many would believe, North Koreans had been ‘returning’ for a long time prior to Ms Pak’s ‘boomerang migrational’ feat.

The fact is that the North Korea-China border is far more porous than many understand. It is difficult to completely control the borders of any nation state, let alone a country like North Korea, whose border guards often live off the bribes gained from those going back and forth. The reality is that for many North Koreans who have left their country illegally, the safest way to visit family and friends and to trade is to maintain their initial clandestine approach. To offer a brief case study, in 2010 I was approached by the sister of a young man who was planning on returning to North Korea in an attempt to convince his girlfriend to follow him back to South Korea. Needing someone to talk to, she explained that he would probably be ok, as long as he kept under the radar of the Chinese security forces. This, like many other cases that do not get reported, is an example highlighting the fact that a majority of cross-border movement is illegal and either deliberately ignored or simply undetected.

The latest in the saga of returning North Koreans sees the first signs of panic emerging as, according to the Dong-a ilbo, North Koreans are “rushing to go back home.” While it is generally understood that North Koreans are not, in fact, “rushing back home”, there is some consensus that, amongst the North Korean community in South Korea, if I may refer to this community in such a way, there is a high level of dissatisfaction in regards to the reception they continue to receive south of the 38^th parallel. Signs of what can be, at best, referred to as ‘a general malaise’ are further exemplified in the case of North Korean onward-migrants.

Although yet to capture the imagination of the media in the same way was return-migrants, it is becoming clear that onward–migrants or re-migrants are likely to be a far more significant part of the globalizing North Korean diaspora. At the founding meeting of the World North Korean Federation, in Seoul, 2010, there was an expectation among participants that although meagre at the time, in the future the networks created by North Koreans moving to South Korea and beyond would offer options previously unimagined in terms of destination choice and facilitate the successful settlement of North Korean refugees. Two years on, it appears that these predictions are proving quite prophetic, as the number of North Koreans moving from South Korea to destinations such as Canada, the United Kingdom, Australia and the United States continues to grow.

In the case of Australia, it seems that the lures of one year working-holiday visa, along with relatively high paying low-skilled work, is proving to be a strong drawcard for North Korean onward-migrants. As in the U.K. and in Canada, when possible, many of these migrants move strategically, using already established South Korean transnational networks.

Unlike most South Koreans in popular destinations like Sydney and Toronto, however, many North Koreans are attempting to stay permanently. The means for achieving permanent remigration is equally diverse, ranging from the illegal to more nuanced, loophole-finding strategies. One such approach is for a onward-migrant to discard their South Korean passport upon arrival in their intended new home and claim refugee status based on the fact they are North Korean and have escaped to find freedom. Although not untrue, this is currently considered illegal by the Australian authorities and unless they are lucky, many attempting this strategy find themselves guests in one of Australia’s fast multiplying immigrant detention centres. The other option tried by some North Koreans is to arrive and stay legitimately on their South Korean passports, while lobbying the Australian government to grant them an indefinite stay, based on the fact that they are North Koreans and never intended to stay in South Korea– also not entirely untrue.

What is clear, as the networks of these individuals become stronger, as the number of disgruntled North Koreans in South Korea continues to rise and as word gets back to these individuals that there might be better options than existing perpetually as the poorer brother or sister from the North, is that the governments of countries such as Canada and Australia are going to have to make some tough decisions in regards to where they stand with these onward-migrants. This might entail treating them as something they struggle to achieve in South Korea– being South Korean. Unfortunately, this would also mean being deported.

Picture sourced from Eastasiaforum.org