Seoul, South Korea -- The second ever inter-Korea summit, between South Korea's President Roh Mu-hyun and North Korean leader Kim Jong Il in early October, produced a media frenzy. Journalists reported on every move and statement by the two leaders, including Kim's casual proposal to extend Mr. Roh's stay by one day, and Mr. Roh's polite but awkward refusal to do so.
Atmospherics aside, one thing was conspicuously missing: any discussion of human rights. Given North Korea's systematic denial of civil, political, economic, social and cultural rights, this is remarkable. Worse, it seems that both sides are using coded language to agree that it is now unacceptable to raise the issue of human rights.
At the summit, Mr. Roh signed an agreement with North Korea's leader that pledged, among other things, not to "interfere with each other's internal affairs." When asked by a journalist if addressing North Korea's human rights violations constitutes interference in its internal affairs, South Korea's Unification Minister Lee Jae-joung reportedly responded by saying that, "human rights in North Korea is directly linked to the question of its political system . . . a moral and ethical stance is not the only way." He did not say what other ways he had in mind.
Regardless of what Mr. Roh signed with Kim Jong Il, or how Mr. Lee interpreted it, both North and South Korea have made commitments, in international human rights conventions, to the protection of basic human rights as a universal value. Under international law, human rights violations are not simply "internal affairs" -- they are of concern to everyone, everywhere. Indeed, calling human rights abuses an internal affair is an approach frequently used by China and other dictatorships to avoid international criticism of how they treat their own citizens.
In South Korea, an opposition lawmaker called this behavior by the South Korean government a form of "Stockholm Syndrome," the phenomenon where hostages start sympathizing with their kidnappers as they struggle to cope with fear and anxiety. Other observers might simply call it appeasing a bully. North Koreans who are not members of the elite may wonder whether the government in Seoul now sees them as little more than collateral damage in the big picture of peace on the Korean peninsula.
Of course, South Korean officials will not publicly say they don't care about human rights in North Korea. Instead they say that raising human rights issues with North Korea is counterproductive, that it makes North Korean officials storm out of meetings, cut off dialogue and cancel agreements. Discussing rights, they say, does not motivate Pyongyang to improve how it treats its citizens.
It is true that North Korea often reacts with irritation and anger when it faces criticism of its human rights record. But there is reason to think that the regime is susceptible to pressure from outside.
In an interview in August 2007, a 49-year-old man from Onsong, North Korea, described to Human Rights Watch what he experienced during multiple arrests and repatriations to North Korea. The first time he was arrested for the crime of crossing the border with China without state permission in 1999, he was cursed and beaten during interrogation. The last time he was caught, in 2006, the interrogator -- in fact the same police officer -- offered him a cigarette and pleaded for cooperation.
While in jail awaiting a sentence last year, this man also received a visit by a public defense attorney, for the first time ever. The attorney asked if his human rights had been violated during interrogation. "Well, this time around, there weren't any abuses, so I said no," he said.
After the man was sent to prison, he said he realized there was a lot less cursing and beating than before. When asked why such changes took place, he said, "I am not sure, but I heard it was the international pressure."
Of course, this man should never have been arrested in the first place: His right to freedom of movement is guaranteed by international law. He did not get a fair trial. The attorney he met did not represent him in court. In fact, that jail-cell visit was his only visit. And although the level and frequency of abuse may have decreased at his detention facility, the man also said that abuses did not disappear.
Hundreds of thousands of people like this man still toil in prison for trying to exercise basic freedoms. The authorities still execute North Koreans in public, often in the presence of children. Citizens who want to practice religion must do so secretly. In general, repression in North Korea continues to be so severe that there are no known dissident politicians or activists.
Nevertheless, the world must not rule out the possibility that concerted international pressure could produce results. And without any visible political debate inside North Korea, external pressure is essential: Things certainly will not improve by maintaining silence. South Korean officials should be leading the effort on human rights -- not signing agreements to sit on the sidelines as their fellow Koreans continue to suffer.
Kay Seok is North Korea researcher for Human Rights Watch.
