North Korea is still the only advertising-free country in the world. But that may soon change thanks to ABBBy Werner CatrinaNowhere is advertising to be seen in the North Korean metropolis of Pyongyang - except for state propaganda. At night, only the statutes of the Great Leader and his son shine. On the shelves of the stores is a sparse supply of goods. But times are changing: ABB will soon be the first Western company to be allowed to display its logo.
From the window of the just-landed Ilyushin of the North Korean Air Koryo, we catch sight of a huge portrait of the Great Leader Kim Il Sung. After a one-and-a-half-hour flight from Beijing, we have landed at Pyongyang airport, the rumored capital of North Korea. There is no commercial advertising here; only the all-powerful communist state advertises with slogans and heroic images.
Instead of the rickety buses of Russian design, there are Mercedes in front of the terminal; functionaries' cars and limousines for diplomats and arriving important delegations. We visitors from Europe feel like panda bears in the zoo. North Korea records only 100,000 foreign arrivals a year, nine-tenths of which are Chinese. Tourists and business people from Europe are rare.
Our small group of journalists and travel experts, "guarded" by a North Korean tour guide and two guides, drives along the empty airport highway into Pyongyang. Where in other Asian cities one shrill advertising wall follows the other, here brown rice fields pass in front of the bus window between the airport and the city. People work with sickles in the fields, here and there a cow pulls a two-wheeled cart. Throughout the country, motorized traffic is almost non-existent, as there are no private cars. Now and then a bus appears, sometimes a functionary's car; trucks are not allowed on the highways.
In all the world's metropolises, electronic screens and mega-posters put consumer goods in the right light. In Pyongyang, hand-painted giant frescoes and gigantic red stars advertise solely the blessings of the North Korean Communist Party, which is celebrating its 55th anniversary.
We make our first stop at the Monument to the Great Leader Kim Il Sung, a bronze statue as tall as a church steeple. Soldiers, students and wedding parties approach silently, bow their heads and lay flowers. Kim Il Sung, who died in 1994, remains president "for eternity" after his death. This, too, is a worldwide unicum.
No Coca-Cola advertising, no washing powder poster
"We try harder" is how an American car rental company advertises with a red label around the globe, but not in North Korea. Here, the color red has so far been reserved for the Communist Party of Korean Labor with its "Juche Doctrine" based on independence. Sad irony: Since the mid-1990s, the country has been plagued by a dramatic famine and is on the drip of foreign food aid, of which the people, however, learn nothing concrete.
Inhabited by nearly three million people, the metropolis of Pyongyang is the only capital on earth without any commercial advertising. No Coca-Cola sign, no advertising for washing powder or even computers distract from the images of Kim Il Sung and his successor, Kim Jong Il.
Victory Street, which runs through the middle of Pyongyang, looks like an alienated Champs-Elysées without stores and restaurants. For state officials and foreigners, there are a few other restaurants in the city besides the hotel restaurants, where you can feast on soju (rice wine) at Western prices.
As in wartime, the scarce food is allocated to the inhabitants by the state. The tourists, of course, feel nothing of this; they pay around 3,000 francs for an eight-day package from Beijing, including a visa, and are fed sumptuously.
The dollar is converted at a lunar exchange rate
Visitors from other countries can change their dollars into foreign currency and buy imported products at special outlets. For one dollar, we were charged 2.2 won, a lunar exchange rate. In China, a single dollar buys well over a hundred North Korean won, says a businessman from Malaysia.
Glasses of Nescafé stand on the shelves of a small department store for foreigners, Pampers for diplomats' children and stereo equipment from Japan are lined up. We even discovered white wine from Switzerland. Dozens of identical cans of tuna fill an entire rack, with large empty spaces next to them. Ginseng products, one of the few export goods of the country, are for sale. Because of the absurd exchange rate, however, everything is more expensive than in Tokyo.
In the stadium there is no
Bowl of rice and no tea
The largest department store in the center of the city is still closed at eleven in the morning, the huge square in front of it oppressively empty. In the shop windows, reminiscent of Swiss folk magazines in the fifties, clothes are displayed whose cut no one wears on the street. We saw neither markets nor stores where one had the impression that people were really buying. As we learned from our guides, all North Koreans earn 200 won a month, ten percent of which goes to housing. Where people spend the rest remained a mystery.
In the advertising-free May Day Stadium with its 150000 seats, there is not a single beverage stand. It is impossible to buy just a bowl of rice with vegetables or a glass of tea. With empty stomachs, the crowds make their way home on foot through dark streets after the party's jubilant show.
The streets of Pyongyang are clinically clean, because in this consumption-abstinent world there is nothing to throw away. Brigades of working people, moreover, scrub sidewalks and squares daily, "volunteers" crouch on their knees in front of statues and triumphal arches and sweep the floor.
The television set in the Pyongyang Koryo Hotel offers - like all sets in the country - only the program of the state broadcaster with happy faces, mass parades, cheering children's choirs, idyllic landscapes and the portrait of the Great Leader and his son. There are no commercials and news programs, only state announcements, propaganda.
At least the North Koreans have learned about the surprising meeting of their dear leader, Kim Jong Il, with South Korean President Kim Dae Jung, and also about the heartbreaking mutual visit of relatives who were not allowed to see each other for fifty years. The media do not tell the people that Kim Dae Jung received the Nobel Peace Prize for his reconciliation policy.
Heroic frescoes in the
ad-free metro
The state is using the biggest ladle: Pyongyang has more stadiums than most cities in the world. Here, too, not the slightest advertisement for a consumer product. The streets are wider than in Paris, the monuments higher than in Washington. In the empty squares as well as in the halls of the metro, pompous music sounds from somewhere. Commercial advertising is also completely absent from the subway. In contrast, chandeliers illuminate heroic frescoes. The people seem well dressed, we have not seen poverty in Pyongyang; the hunger areas are in the countryside, remote in the north. Foreigners are absolutely denied a glimpse into the living conditions of North Koreans. How long this rigid state can maintain its monopoly on information in the networked world remains an open question.
The electricity for Pyongyang is drawn from the outlying regions, which are often in darkness, knows a group participant who is already touring North Korea for the second time. At night, even the capital appears dark, with only the illuminated statues and magnificent buildings rising out of the gloom.
But help for the ailing infrastructure is coming from the West. In the last week of November 2000, ABB CEO Göran Lindahl visited Pyongyang at the invitation of the government. Lindahl is the first boss of a Western company to do business with the North Korean rulers.
ABB has signed a long-term cooperation agreement with the Democratic People's Republic of Korea; specialists from the Swiss-Swedish technology group are to modernize the outdated power grids and upgrade the antediluvian control systems of North Korean power plants and industrial enterprises. It is foreseeable that the dynamic group, as a pioneer, will soon be able to trumpet its message on the last white spot in the advertising world: "ABB - global and local".
Isolated
The Democratic People's Republic of Korea is three times the size of Switzerland and has 23 million inhabitants. For the Korean peninsula, the 20th century was for long stretches an epoch of horror. Decades of brutal colonization by Japan were followed by the devastating Korean War (1950-53), in which the country was caught between the millstones of the great powers USA, Russia and China. The war ended with the division of the country. In the South, tens of thousands of American soldiers moved in as a protective force. Communist North Korea has become increasingly isolated in recent decades. Now, under pressure from the economic misery, the country is to be cautiously opened up.