Just a stone’s throw from North Korea, farmer Park Se-un tends to his crops under the watchful eye of the South Korean military. In the distance, past the bushes and fields strewn with landmines, he can see North Korean soldiers on patrol.
Park’s village of Daeseong-dong is the only inhabited area in the south of Korea’s demilitarised zone (DMZ), located just 365 metres from North Korea at its closest point. Born and raised inside this zone, Park is used to the political tensions that shape his everyday life.
Described as “the scariest place on earth” by Bill Clinton when he visited as president in 1993, the DMZ has served as a buffer between the two Koreas since their three-year conflict ended in 1953 with an armistice but not a peace treaty – meaning that the neighbours are still technically at war.
It has since become one of the most reliable indicators of the state of inter-Korean affairs and in recent weeks, events along the border suggest the region has entered a new period of tension and uncertainty.
The North has sent thousands of balloons over that scattered their contents – manure, cigarette butts, used batteries, cloth scraps and wastepaper – on South Korean streets. Defector groups in the South have reciprocated with balloons whose cargo, including leaflets and USB sticks loaded with K-pop and K-dramas, are designed to undermine the legitimacy of the North’s leader, Kim Jong-un.
Perhaps most worrying are three reported “incursions” this month by 20 to 30 North Korean soldiers into the southern side of the demarcation line, the border running through the centre of the 2.5-mile wide, 155-mile-long DMZ.
The incidents, which ended with the soldiers retreating immediately after their counterparts in the South fired warning shots, have been described by media as “accidental”. One explanation is that foliage in the area is so thick that the North Korean soldiers were unable to see the thin line dividing their country from enemy territory. Another is that North Korea is using soldiers who are unfamiliar with the DMZ and more prone to crossing the Military Demarcation Line inadvertently.
But with tensions across the increasingly militarised DMZ rising, residents like Park now find themselves hoping this fragile peace can continue. “This all makes us nervous. What if something happens? It’s always on our minds,” he says.
Tasked with monitoring these events is the Neutral Nations Supervisory Commission (NNSC), which has actively monitored the DMZ since the Korean war’s armistice in 1953 and is currently composed of just five Swiss and five Swedish soldiers.
Living in a hut metres from the Korean border, Maj Gen Ivo Burgener, head of the Swiss NNSC Delegation, is used to life in the DMZ, but he explains that in recent months the situation has changed.
During the Guardian’s interview with him, the sound of an explosion ripples through the forest that covers much of the DMZ, interrupting the conversation.
“In the last four to five weeks it’s been getting more intense,” Burgener says. “The explosions seem to be nearer, and louder.”
Since the scrapping of the comprehensive military agreement, a deal struck in 2018 that sought to lower the risk of an accidental conflict in the DMZ, both North and South have increasingly militarised the border.
In the seven months since the agreement was ended, previously unarmed DMZ soldiers have begun to carry firearms and guard posts are being rebuilt.
“There are more personnel, there are more weapons, and they are coming closer together,” says Lieutenant Colonel Livio Räber, an operations officer for the Swiss NNSC.
Burgener suspects the nearby explosions stem from North Korea’s increased laying of mines along the DMZ, even after mine explosions reportedly killed or wounded an unspecified number of its soldiers. But he says the lack of dialogue between both sides makes it hard for the NNSC to verify.
In the DMZ’s Daeseong-dong village, residents receive phone alerts warning them about incoming North Korean balloons on an almost daily basis. The clear rise in tensions leave Park concerned that conflict could break out.
“I do worry about possible war,” Park says. “It’s natural to think about it since tensions are growing.”
Despite the “balloon wars” and warning shots, a descent into hostilities is unlikely. The DMZ will however continue to be at the centre of the latest round of tit-for-tat reprisals from both sides. Satellite images suggest that North Korea is building what appear to be anti-tank barriers and reinforcing roads.
Some experts believe the fortifications are intended to deter defections among North Korean soldiers. But defections across the DMZ are rare.
Park says that while his ancestors have lived in the village for generations, his grandfather’s tomb is actually on the North Korean side of the border, and is inaccessible to members of his family.
“My personal hope is to become unified, to live in peace where I am free to go wherever I wish,” he says.
Additional reporting by Park Seo Jeong
