In the fall of 1980, I had the opportunity to accompany a group of Liberal Democratic Party lawmakers visiting North Korea. It was just before the grand convention of the Korean Workers' Party, where Kim Jong Il, the head of state and son of previous leader Kim Il Sung, made his formal debut in the public arena.

The mood in Pyongyang was festive. The capital bustled in a rush of high-rise construction. The sound of sledgehammers literally rang out through the wee hours of the morning.

The elder Kim, who we saw up close, was blessed with the airs of a frank and affable-looking labor boss. The true state of the country, however, was anything but "frank and affable" or anything similar.

Commenting on dwindling food supplies, the authorities talked tough. A typical comment went like this: "The people are making sacrifices in order to stockpile food to save the starving masses when we liberate the South."

During a meeting with Japanese wives of ethnic North Koreans who had chosen to return to the North, we were told, "Living under the infinite compassion of the great leader, our daily lives are filled with such joy that we never even recall our native land." Listening to such well-rehearsed lines was painful.

At that time, we never dreamed North Korean agents had already abducted Japanese citizens. The Rangoon Incident, an attempt on the life of the South Korean president, the downing of a Korean Air jetliner by Northern operatives in an apparent attempt to disrupt the Seoul Olympics and other appalling acts of terrorism were also still several years down the road.

Fast forward to June 2000, and upbeat television coverage of the summit meeting between the leaders of the two Koreas. In my eyes, Kim Jong Ill's demeanor was the spitting image of how his father carried himself back in 1980. The underlying differences, however, included the massive collapse in the North's economy and the resulting inability to feed its people. By that time, the regime's isolation from the international community was almost total. Compared with when I set foot in the country two decades earlier, the situation had changed drastically. This, I suppose, is what has led to the perilous use of the nuclear card by the North and its brinkmanship diplomacy.

Almost one year has passed since Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi went to Pyongyang for his historic summit meeting with Kim Jong Il on Sept. 17. Despite the "Japan-North Korea Pyongyang Declaration," which appeared epoch-making at first glance, the attempt to end the stalemate in Japan-North Korea relations and bring peace to East Asia has collapsed like a proverbial house of cards.

Propelled by the themes of abductions and nukes, Japan and the world have moved forward in both stunning and fretful fashion to cope with the North.

This leads us to the question of what marks we should award to Koizumi for the fruits of last year's outing to Pyongyang.

A harsh view of the situation would say that Tokyo's vision has been soft at best, whether that be in regards to the abduction issue or the nuclear problem.

As a result, relations between Japan and North Korea-like those between Washington and Pyongyang-have become hopelessly bogged down, inviting a situation rampant with tension and confusion.

Some claim Koizumi, who is responsible for opening the Pandora's box, apparently lacks either the leadership or the foresight to clean up the mess, qualifying his diplomacy as a dismal failure.

But some adopt a more generous assessment, claiming Koizumi's visit prompted Pyongyang to cough up the truth about the abduction and nuclear development issues, albeit in a roundabout manner, effectively lifting the veil from some of its mystery. Furthermore, without the summit, the five abduction victims who were returned to Japan would still be in North Korea.

Strictly speaking, Koizumi was fairly well duped on the nuclear issue. In fact, it was the United States that pressed Pyongyang to come clean on its atomic ambitions. But this could also be viewed as the result of efforts by Washington, which was up in arms over the sudden show of bridge-building between Japan and the North, to refresh the world's memory of just where Pyongyang stands.

But even some of this stems from Koizumi's trip.

Though the specific developments have been unexpected, this is a road that must be traveled, in some shape or form, if the North is ever to be dragged into the international community.

The recent six-way talks, which brought China and Russia into the picture, also deserves a special mention. At the risk of repeating myself, this may all be traced to Koizumi's landmark visit to Pyongyang.

North Korea, the essential poster child of a secretive and reclusive society, has become more open than ever.

As recently as February, for example, the Rodong Sinmun newspaper, official organ of the ruling Workers' Party, ran a surprising piece consisting of a so-called "confession" by Kim Jong Il, supposedly delivered before military troops on Sept. 5, 2002. The confession went something like this: "With our people continuing to live hard lives, I cannot bring myself to rest, no matter how much I would like to, and I cannot sleep though my eyes are heavy. When all our people come to live prosperous lives, then I will be able to rest to my heart's content."

The Workers' Party newspaper reported, "This was a living confession of life, kept concealed deep in the heart for so long." The words, the paper added, "brought tears to the eyes of those present."

Setting aside the question of whether Kim really is suffering from insomnia, his comments appear to be a candid expression of regret. Why were such sentiments openly reported at home and abroad? This, I would say, marks a big change from the days in which Pyongyang's official mouthpiece claimed obvious food shortages were the result of "stockpiling to save the masses in the South."

What's more, the date of the speech-Sept. 5-was less than two weeks before Koizumi's arrival on Kim's shores. Pyongyang is desperate for economic help from Japan, even if it must bear the humiliation of owning up to its past abductions of Japanese nationals. If Kim's "confession" was presented as an advance account of the country's sorry circumstances, we can only assume the true motive behind those words continues to exist.

The North is now brandishing the threat of nuclear weapons, while treating both the United States and Japan to a familiar barrage of harsh invectives.

Meanwhile, a nonaggression pact, a security guarantee and economic assistance are being sought in return. But upon closer examination, such demands border on the pathetic. The situation can be loosely likened to a fugitive who at last finds himself surrounded and must reach a deal with his pursuers. In that case, the discussion would go something like this:

Pursuer: "Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up!"

Fugitive: "If I lay down my weapons, you have to promise not to shoot! And don't forget about taking care of me afterward!"

In the final analysis, the evaluation of Koizumi's trip to Pyongyang will be determined by what lies ahead. Can a peaceful solution be hammered out, even if it needs time to accomplish? Or could there be a disastrous outcome in the cards, even if few subscribe to such pessimism at present?

For better or worse, we are approaching the 11th hour in the critical countdown for grading.

On the threat of nuclear testing, past abductions and other prickly issues, it is essential to take a long, clear look at the North's vulnerabilities and proceed with firm resolve.

I am not, however, referring to pushing forward without any concrete policy, choosing to largely rely on the semblance of such resolve. While applying pressure on one front, it is also important to envision a strategy of how to draw out the other party, taking a hands-on approach to smoothing out friction and complications between the two sides. That, in a nutshell, is what professional diplomacy is all about.

One thing is for sure: The next round of six-way talks will need to rise a notch or two above the limited dimension of merely mutually sounding out the intentions of the respective players. All participants must aim to achieve real and lasting progress.

I have to wonder, however, to what degree Koizumi, the man who set this whole process in motion with last year's summit in Pyongyang, is aware of the critical truth of this fact.

　（2003/09/12）