The Chosun Ilbo - Korea Lags Behind in Closing Gender Gap

Image via Wikipedia

Many countries are making great strides toward gender equality, but women still lag behind men in political and economic empowerment. This was revealed in Global Gender Gap Index 2009 released on Tuesday by the World Economic Forum of Switzerland.

The index was based on a survey of 134 nations in four categories -- economic participation and opportunity, educational attainment, political empowerment, and health and survival. "The Index's scores can be interpreted as the percentage of the gap that has been closed between women and men," the report said.

Nordic countries had the smallest equality gaps. On a scale of 100, Iceland topped the list with 82.8 points, followed by Finland (82.5 points), Norway (82.3) and Sweden (81.4). Women there find it easy to work outside their home and find a balance between home and work as they benefit from traditionally generous welfare, the report said.

At the bottom, Qatar ranked 125th, followed by other Islamic countries such as Egypt, Iran, Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan. Yemen came last with 46.1 points.

Korea ranked 115th, very close to the bottom. The country slid since its already low ranking of 92nd in 2006 when this survey was started, dropping to 97th in 2007 and 108th in 2008.

Korea received 61.6 points in 2006, but improved in 2007 with 64.1. Its points dropped to 61.5 in 2008 and received 61.5 again this year. But it was pushed behind by other countries which improved faster. Korea performed relatively better in the health and survival category (80th) than the economic and political categories (113th and 104th). The country came first in terms of life expectancy but ranked as low as 116th in sex ratio at birth. It ranked 114th in legislators, senior officials and managers and 124th in women in ministerial positions.

Out of 115 countries that were first rated in 2006, more than two-thirds improved their performance over the last four years, the report said. But women still had a low rate of participation in parliament, government and corporate boards.

Countries have closed almost 93 percent of the gap in education but only 60 percent of the gap in economic activity and 17 percent in politics, the report added.

Ex-Soldiers Want to Reveal Chile Dirty War Secrets - NYTimes.com

Image via Wikipedia

SANTIAGO, Chile (AP) -- Hundreds of former military draftees rallying outside Chile's presidential palace were asked Sunday to come forward and reveal crimes they committed and witnessed during Gen. Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship.

The draftees have long feared that if they name names and reveal where bodies are buried, they will face prosecution by the courts or retaliation by those who ordered them to torture and kill.

But now the information they once promised to carry to their graves has become both a heavy psychological burden and a bargaining chip. By offering confessions, some of these now-aging men believe they can improve their chances of getting government pensions and mental health care.

''Perhaps today is the day when the moment has come, for us to describe what we saw and what we suffered inside the military bases, the things that we witnessed and that we did,'' said Fernando Mellado, who leads the Santiago chapter of the Former Soldiers of 1973.

Mellado told his fellow former soldiers that he's made little progress with lawmakers as he lobbies for military draftees to be recognized as victims of the dictatorship, in part because no one understands what they went through.

''Our human rights were also violated,'' he declared. ''The moment has come for former military draftees to tell our wives, our families, the politicians, the society, the country and the whole world about the brutalities they subjected us to. I believe the moment has come for us to speak, for our personal redemption.''

Mellado has been working with similar groups across Chile to figure out whether and how to turn over the information. He urged those in the crowd to provide their evidence to him, and promised to protect their anonymity.

Of the 8,000 people drafted as teenagers from Santiago alone in the tumultuous year when Pinochet overthrew Salvador Allende's government and cemented his hold on power, Mellado believes ''between 20 and 30 percent are willing to talk.''

A small crowd among the former draftees was inspired enough by Mellado's call to immediately approach Associated Press journalists at the rally.

''They made me torture -- I am a torturer -- because they threatened me that if I didn't torture, they would kill me,'' volunteered Jorge Acevedo. He said several prisoners died when he applied electricity during torture sessions, and that their bodies may have been dumped in abandoned mines at the Cerro Chena prisoner camp.

Chilean security forces killed 3,186 people during the dictatorship, including 1,197 who were made to disappear, according to an official count.

In nearly two decades of democracy since then, less than 8 percent of the disappeared have been found, said Viviana Diaz of the Assembly of Family Members of the Disappeared Detainees.

Hundreds of recovered remains, some just bone fragments, have yet to be identified. Only those who buried the bodies know where other common graves lie. Diaz, for one, hopes the former draftees do start talking, even if they do so in a way that avoids prosecution.

Chilean law allows for a ''just following orders'' defense if people submit to the mercy of the courts, naming names and providing information that could help resolve some of the thousands of crimes committed under Pinochet's 1973-1990 rule.

The defense ''theoretically applies and exists'' in Chile, and judges can even have people testify in secret, said attorney Hiram Villagra, who represents families of the dead and disappeared.

But most former soldiers fear the consequences for themselves and their families. Some worry that judges who rose through the ranks under Pinochet might protect their former superior officers instead.

Mellado maintains that the former draftees also are victims -- forced into service as minors and made to do unspeakable things -- and that many now want to get it off their chests.

One confessed to shooting an entire family. Another -- now an alcoholic who sleeps in the street in Santiago -- said he was forced to drown a 7-year-old boy in a barrel of hardening plaster. Others describe harrowing torture sessions, and loading bodies onto helicopters to be dumped at sea.

''Our mission was to stand guard outside, and listen to their screams,'' former draftee Jose Paredes said as he told the AP about his service at the Tejas Verdes torture center. ''They would end up destroyed, torn apart, their teeth and faces broken.''

''There are things that I've always said I will take to the grave,'' Paredes said, his grizzled face running with tears as he named a half-dozen officers who he said gave the orders. ''I've never told this to anyone.''

The Chilean government has made several high-profile efforts to resolve dirty war crimes, but Mellado said former draftees who wanted to testify were turned away: The Defense Ministry sent them to civilian courts, while civilian authorities considered them to be military.

Villagra agrees the time is overdue for the soldiers to seek redemption -- and sent a message of support for Mellado's efforts to gather their testimony.

''Clearly there is no desire from our part for these soldiers to carry the burden of guilt of the officers, who were the ones who made the decisions,'' Villagra said.

An AP review found 769 current and former security officers, most of them military, have been prosecuted for murders and other human rights violations. Almost all deny committing crimes. Only 276 have been sentenced.

Much of the evidence came from former prisoners. Testimony from former soldiers could do much to resolve these cases.

Sudanese Register For First Free Vote In 24 Years - NYTimes.com

Image via Wikipedia

KHARTOUM (Reuters) - Sudanese began registering on Sunday for the country's first multi-party elections in 24 years, but opposition parties threatened to boycott the April poll unless democratic reforms are passed.

U.S. envoy Scott Gration, on his first visit since Washington unveiled a new policy of engagement with Sudan last month, said time was running short and urged Sudan's political parties to resolve their differences ahead of the key vote.

Opposition parties and Sudan junior government partner, the former rebel Sudan People's Liberation Movement (SPLM), have threatened to boycott the election unless new laws ensuring democratic transformation are passed, including reforming the powerful intelligence services.

"We need to get some solutions," Gration said in Juba, south Sudan. "We urge you to register to vote, to express your will, to do this in peace and for peace."

Opposition parties said they were carefully monitoring the registration Sunday, though they said many people had no idea the electoral process had started or where the centres were.

"The National Elections Commission (NEC) has made no effort to tell the people that it is time to register," said one Communist Party delegate.

An average of about 150 people had registered in each of six Khartoum centres visited by Reuters Sunday.

Election officers said they had asked for larger posters to advertise registration so people would know where to come.

"There has been a very active campaign ... there was information on the radio, TV and newspapers," NEC Secretary-General Jalal Mohamed Ahmed told Reuters.

Sudan's mobile providers sent subscribers a message that registration was beginning.

And indeed some Sudanese, bussed in by their political parties or nipping out on their lunch break, did get the message and came to collect their piece of white paper which will allow them to vote in April.

But while awareness in Khartoum was limited, outside the capital there was confusion.

In south Sudan's capital Juba, centres opened late and officials worried tribal violence which has displaced thousands would mean many would not be able to register.

"The law does not allow them to register in one place and vote in another," said Mac Maika, a south Sudan elections official.

Early Sunday, 10 people were killed in violence near Malakal town, central Sudan, the southern army said.

Sudan's NEC will also have to register more than 2 million Darfuris forced into miserable camps in Sudan's west after a rebellion in 2003 and negotiate access to areas controlled by hostile rebel groups.

"It's not going to be easy.. but I am cautiously optimistic," said voter Mohamed Osman.

(Additional reporting by Skye Wheeler in Juba)

Israel Nabs Serial Attacker of Arabs, Leftist Jews - NYTimes.com

Image by antifluor via Flickr

JERUSALEM (AP) -- Israeli authorities have arrested a Jewish-American extremist suspected of carrying out a series of high-profile hate crimes, security officials said Sunday.

Police and Shin Bet security forces say Jack Teitel, a 37-year-old ultra-Orthodox Jewish West Bank settler, was behind the killing of two Arabs, the targeting of a peace activist and an attack on a breakaway Jewish sect over a period of 12 years.

Authorities originally suspected an extremist Jewish underground for some of the attacks. But acquaintances described Teitel, a father of four, as a lone wolf, and authorities say he acted alone.

Jerusalem police commander Aharon Franco said Teitel immigrated to Israel from Florida, and that he grew up on U.S. military bases as the son of a dentist serving in the Marines.

Franco said a joint police and Shin Bet operation nabbed Teitel earlier this month and he confessed to the crimes and re-enacted them. Police also displayed photos of a large weapons cache seized from the suspect's home.

''He is like a serial killer. This guy was a Jewish terrorist who targeted different types of people,'' said police spokesman Micky Rosenfeld. ''He was deeply involved in terrorism in all different levels.''

Results of the police investigation will be turned over to the state prosecutor to prepare an indictment.

In his most noted attack, Teitel is accused of sending a booby-trapped gift basket in March 2008 to the home of a family of American messianic Jews in Israel, who believe that Jesus is the Messiah but still consider themselves Jewish.

The explosion seriously wounded the family's 15-year-old son, Ami Ortiz, severing two toes, damaging his hearing and harming his promising basketball career.

''We are horrified by the fact that there are elements of Israeli society, Jews who feel justified in taking the lives of other Jews because of their beliefs,'' said Ami's mother, Leah Ortiz. ''We hope and pray that justice will be done in this case.''

Teitel is also accused of carrying out a pipe bomb attack in September 2008 that wounded a prominent Israeli professor and peace activist, Zeev Sternhell, an expert on the history of fascism who had spoken out against West Bank settlements.

Responding to news of the arrest, Sternhell said, ''I hope the system deals with this terrorist as it deals with all other terrorists, Jewish and Arab alike.''

Police also accused Teitel of killing a Palestinian taxi driver and a Palestinian farmer in 1997, and of stabbing and wounding an Arab in Jerusalem whom he suspected of making sexual advances. He also attempted to bomb police stations and patrols because they provided security for gay pride parades.

Such hate crimes are relatively rare in Israel. The most notable Israeli hate criminals were Ami Popper, who killed seven Palestinian laborers at an Israeli bus stop in 1990, and Yona Avrushmi, who threw a grenade into a peace rally in 1983, killing a participant.

Teitel is not suspected of being responsible for the shooting attack against a gay youth center in Tel Aviv in August, in which two people were killed, though police said he confessed to that attack as well.

Teitel arrived in Israel from the U.S. a decade ago and has lived in the West Bank settlement of Shvut Rachel, north of Jerusalem, for the past six years, his brother-in-law Moshe Avitan said.

Avitan said Teitel was a loner who spoke no Hebrew and rarely expressed political opinions. He worked from home in the computer field and has a degree in business.

Teitel's lawyer, Adi Keidar, told Israel's Channel 2 TV that his client is ''mentally disturbed.''

Kirkuk at the Heart of Iraq Election Law Deadlock - NYTimes.com

Image via Wikipedia

BAGHDAD (AP) -- Iraqi politicians have been turning up their rhetoric over Kirkuk, the oil-rich city that both Kurds in the north and Arabs in the south want to control.

The dispute has caused a deadlock over the country's election law, threatening to delay Iraq's nationwide elections set for mid-January. Any vote setback could, in turn, disrupt American plans to withdraw troops from Iraq, scheduled to ramp up after the vote.

''We are getting to a crisis,'' said Marina Ottoway, director of the Middle East Program at the Washington-based Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. ''They have been trying for over a year to reach a compromise on Kirkuk.''

''Now,'' she warns, ''it is becoming a problem for the United States.''

For years, tensions have simmered over Kirkuk and its surrounding province of about 1.3 million people, 180 miles (290 kilometers) north of Baghdad. Boasting an ancient citadel, it is in many ways an ordinary, if somewhat shabby, Iraqi city.

But it sits on a political and cultural fault line among ethnic Kurds and smaller groups of Arabs and Turkomen, or ethnic Turks. Vast oil fields, dotted with flaming smoke stacks, lie just to the north and west, raising the stakes.

Kurds consider Kirkuk a Kurdish city and want it part of their self-ruled region. But during the rule of former dictator Saddam Hussein, tens of thousands of Kurds were displaced under a forced plan by Saddam to make Kirkuk predominantly Arab.

Regaining control of the city is thus extremely symbolic for Kurds and many Kurds have returned since the 2003 U.S.-led invasion of Iraq. But other groups claim Kurds have packed more Kurds into the city than before.

The population breakdown remains in dispute but U.S. officials estimated last spring that Kurds make up 52 percent of Kirkuk and its province, with Arabs at 35 percent and Turkomen about 12 percent.

The Arab-led central government vehemently opposes anything that would remove Kirkuk from its control. A referendum on the city's future -- required by the Iraqi constitution -- has been repeatedly postponed. The Turkomens have generally sided with Arabs, believing they'll be treated better than under the Kurds, a longtime enemy of their Turkish supporters.

The immediate dispute centers on voting rolls listing who can vote in Kirkuk in the January national election. While many proposals have been discussed, Kurds have favored using the 2009 voter registry, which likely reflects the Kurdish growth, while Arabs generally prefer the 2004 voter registry, when the Kurdish population wasn't so large. That has delayed the necessary deal on the election law.

Long term, money also plays a role. Because of the surrounding oil, whoever controls Kirkuk stands to benefit enormously.

The Kurdish-Arab dispute over Kirkuk is different from Iraq's main political dispute between Sunni Arabs and Shiite Arabs, which plays out more in the capital of Baghdad and surrounding areas.

The Sunni-Shiite split has less relevance in Kirkuk where both Kurds and Arabs are mostly Sunni Muslims. There, the fear among Arabs -- both Sunnis and Shiites -- is that Kurds will gobble up all jobs and government benefits if Kirkuk joins Kurdistan.

The United States has been watching the debate intensely for any repercussions it may have for the American military withdrawal.

Under a plan by President Barack Obama, all U.S. combat troops will be out of the country by the end of August 2010, leaving about 50,000 trainers and support troops in Iraq. Those remaining troops would leave by the end of 2011.

U.S. military commanders say the majority of the troop departures would come about 60 days after the planned Iraqi election -- the idea being to get the country on stable footing before making any major troop changes.

Any delay in the election date could possibly push back the troop withdrawal. U.S. officials have said that they are still hoping the Jan. 16th date will go forward, but say their troop drawdown plan is not set in stone.

As the election approaches, tensions have increased with Arab lawmakers saying Kirkuk is an Iraqi city and Kurdish lawmakers boycotting a parliament session last week over the issue.

Iraq's central government should have tried to resolve the underlying Kirkuk issue long before now, asserts Mohammed Ihsan, the former Minister of Disputed Territories, who is now in the Kurdistan regional government.

''They forget that without sorting out this issue, you cannot develop a serious partnership throughout the country,'' Ihsan said.

But a Turkomen lawmaker, Abbas al-Bayati, said Iraq's parliament has not given up hopes of a deal on the election law. ''Delaying the elections is a red line. Elections must not be postponed at any price.''

The tensions over Kirkuk -- already high -- rose last week after Massoud Barzani, the president of the Kurdish autonomous region in the north, said in a speech: ''We refuse to give Kirkuk a special status in the election.''

The wording refers to an April U.N. report recommending giving Kirkuk such ''special status'' with oversight by both the near-autonomous Kurdish region and the central government in Baghdad. Kurds reject that.

The controversy over Barzani's words was further complicated, at least initially, by a mistranslation of his remarks on Iraqi state television, which inaccurately quoted him as saying he pledged to ''annex'' Kirkuk -- a more hardline position.

A regional official with state-owned Iraqiya TV, Evan Nasir Hassan, said Saturday the station made the translation error inadvertently when translating from Kurdish to Arabic. The Associated Press used Iraqiya's Arabic translation in its original story on the speech Wednesday, but subsequently ran a correction describing Barzani's comments accurately.

The mistranslation aside, emotions run high.

Fawzi Akram, a legislator in radical Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr's bloc, who listened to Barzani's speech in the original Kurdish, called his comments provocative.

''We must contain the situation, not make it more complicated,'' he said. ''Kirkuk is an Iraqi city.''

Already the Main Afghan War Hub, Bagram Is Growing - NYTimes.com

Image via Wikipedia

BAGRAM AIR FIELD, Afghanistan (AP) -- Seen from a tiny village on a recent moonless night, the sprawling U.S. base three miles to the north looks more like a medium-size city than a military facility in a war zone.

Bagram Air Field, as the base is formally known, is the largest U.S. military hub of the war in Afghanistan and is home to some 24,000 military personnel and civilian contractors. Yet it is continuing to grow to keep up with the requirements of an escalating war and troop increases.

With tens of millions of dollars pouring into expanding and upgrading facilities, Bagram is turning into something of a military ''boom town.'' Large swathes of the 2,000-hectare (5,000-acre) base look like a construction site, with the rumble of building machinery and the scream of fighter-jets overhead providing the soundtrack.

The rapid growth here is taking place at a time when the Obama administration is debating the future direction of the increasingly unpopular war, now in its ninth year. Among the options under discussion is a recommendation by U.S. Gen. Stanley McChrystal, the overall commander of foreign forces in Afghanistan, to bring in additional U.S. troops, perhaps as many as 80,000.

But even with current troop levels -- 65,000 U.S. troops and about 40,000 from allied countries -- Bagram already is bursting at the seams.

Plans are under way to build a new, $22 million passenger terminal and a new cargo yard costing $9 million. To increase cargo capacity, a new parking ramp supporting the world's largest aircraft is to be completed this spring.

Elsewhere at Bagram, construction has begun on permanent brick-and mortar housing for troops and headquarters for military units, according to Lt. Col. Troy Joslin, chief of Bagram's operations.

Hundreds of Afghan builders in traditional tunics, loose pants and hard hats arrive by bus every morning. Dozens of trucks laden with dirt and other building materials come into the base daily.

The water and electricity systems and the waste management facility are being upgraded. The Army Corps of Engineers is increasing the capacity of the base's roads as well as building new ones on the east side of the airfield, said Joslin.

The base command is acquiring more land next year on the east side to expand the base, according to Joslin. No figure was given.

When the U.S. military took over Bagram in December 2001, the base was 1,616 hectares (3,993 acres), according to Capt. Jennifer Bocanegra, a military spokeswoman at Bagram.

It is now 2,104 hectares (5,198 acres), she said.

Bocanegra said the lease of additional land to expand Bagram was needed to protect personnel and accomplish missions. ''The acquisitions have been made with the express knowledge and consent of the Afghan Government,'' she said.

The base's main road, a tree-lined thoroughfare called ''Disney drive,'' is so congested at times it looks like a downtown street at rush hour. Kicking up dust on that road are Humvees, mine-resistant vehicles, SUVs, buses, trucks and sedans.

A pedestrian path running alongside that road is as busy as a shopping street on a Saturday afternoon, with hundreds of soldiers, Marines, airmen, navy officers and civilian contractors almost rubbing shoulders. Similarly, the lines are long at the overcrowded food halls, the American fast food outlets, cafes, PX stores and ATM machines.

Signs on bathroom walls warn of a water shortage.

''If you think you are maybe wasting water, YOU PROBABLY ARE,'' warns one sign.

Clients must wait, sometimes for up to an hour, for a haircut. For the luxury of a back massage, an appointment is recommended.

The air field is already handling 400 short tons of cargo and 1,000 passengers daily, according to Air Force spokesman Capt. David Faggard. A new 3.5-kilometer (2.17-mile runway) was completed in 2006, to accommodate large aircraft, he added.

Bagram was a major Soviet base during Moscow's 1979-89 occupation of Afghanistan, providing air support to Soviet and Afghan forces fighting the mujahedeen. It also was fought over by rival factions during the country's civil war that followed the Soviet withdrawal.

The view from the old Soviet-built air traffic tower, replaced last year by a new, $50 million tower, reveals a picture more akin to a busy commercial hub than a military facility in a war zone. So frantic is the pace at the air field that giant C-17 transport aircraft fill up with soldiers almost as soon as their cargo is emptied.

''The current expansion supports thousands of additional Coalition troops, either assigned to or supported from Bagram Air Field,'' said Bocanegra.

With Bagram's rapid growth and increase in importance to the war effort, the need to protect it was never greater. The responsibility for that primarily falls on Air Force personnel and paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division.

Bagram lies in Parwan, a relatively quiet province. The Taliban-led insurgency, while growing in numbers and strength elsewhere, is not known to have a significant presence in the province.

Still, the base is susceptible to rocket and mortar attacks.

This year insurgents have launched more than a dozen attacks on Bagram, killing four and wounding at least 12, according to military spokesman Lt. Col. Mike Brady.

Thirsty Plant Dries Out Yemen - NYTimes.com

Image by Ferdinand Reus via Flickr

By ROBERT F. WORTH

JAHILIYA, Yemen — More than half of this country’s scarce water is used to feed an addiction.

Even as drought kills off Yemen’s crops, farmers in villages like this one are turning increasingly to a thirsty plant called qat, the leaves of which are chewed every day by most Yemeni men (and some women) for their mild narcotic effect. The farmers have little choice: qat is the only way to make a profit.

Meanwhile, the water wells are running dry, and deep, ominous cracks have begun opening in the parched earth, some of them hundreds of yards long.

“They tell us it’s because the water table is sinking so fast,” said Muhammad Hamoud Amer, a worn-looking farmer who has lost two-thirds of his peach trees to drought in the past two years. “Every year we have to drill deeper and deeper to get water.”

Across Yemen, the underground water sources that sustain 24 million people are running out, and some areas could be depleted in just a few years. It is a crisis that threatens the very survival of this arid, overpopulated country, and one that could prove deadlier than the better known resurgence of Al Qaeda here.

Water scarcity afflicts much of the Middle East, but Yemen’s poverty and lawlessness make the problem more serious and harder to address, experts say. The government now supplies water once every 45 days in some urban areas, and in much of the country there is no public water supply at all. Meanwhile, the market price of water has quadrupled in the past four years, pushing more and more people to drill illegally into rapidly receding aquifers.

“It is a collapse with social, economic and environmental aspects,” said Abdul Rahman al-Eryani, Yemen’s minister of water and environment. “We are reaching a point where we don’t even know if the interventions we are proposing will save the situation.”

Making matters far worse is the proliferation of qat trees, which have replaced other crops across much of the country, taking up a vast and growing share of water, according to studies by the World Bank. The government has struggled to limit drilling by qat farmers, but to no effect. The state has little authority outside the capital, Sana.

Already, the lack of water is fueling tribal conflicts and insurgencies, Mr. Eryani said. Those conflicts, including a widening armed rebellion in the north and a violent separatist movement in the south, in turn make it more difficult to address the water crisis in an organized way. Many parts of the country are too dangerous for government engineers or hydrologists to venture into.

Climate change is deepening the problem, making seasonal rains less reliable and driving up average temperatures in some areas, said Jochen Renger, a water resources specialist with the German government’s technical assistance arm, who has been advising the water ministry for five years.

Unlike some other arid countries in the region, like Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, Yemen lacks the money to invest heavily in desalination plants. Even wastewater treatment has proved difficult in Yemen. The plants have been managed poorly, and some clerics have declared the reuse of wastewater to be a violation of Islamic principles.

At the root of the water crisis — as with so many of the ills affecting the Middle East — is rapid population growth, experts say. The number of Yemenis has quadrupled in the last half century, and is expected to triple again in the next 40 years, to about 60 million.

In rural areas, people can often be seen gathering drinking water from cloudy, stagnant cisterns where animals drink. Even in parts of Sana, the poor cluster to gather runoff from privately owned local wells as their wealthier neighbors pay the equivalent of $10 for a 3,000 liter-truckload of water.

“At least 1,000 people depend on this well,” said Hassan Yahya al-Khayari, 38, as he stood watching water pour from a black rubber tube into a tanker truck near his home in Sana. “But the number of people is rising, and the water is growing less and less.”

For millenniums, Yemen preserved traditions of careful water use. Farmers depended mostly on rainwater collection and shallow wells. In some areas they built dams, including the great Marib dam in northern Yemen, which lasted for more than 1,000 years until it collapsed in the sixth century A.D.

But traditional agriculture began to fall apart in the 1960s after Yemen was flooded with cheap foreign grain, which put many farmers out of business. Qat began replacing food crops, and in the late 1960s, motorized drills began to proliferate, allowing farmers and villagers to pump water from underground aquifers much faster than it could be replaced through natural processes. The number of drills has only grown since they were outlawed in 2002.

Despite the destructive effects of qat, the Yemeni government supports it, through diesel subsidies, loans and customs exemptions, Mr. Eryani said. It is illegal to import qat, and powerful growers known here as the “qat mafia” have threatened to shoot down any planes bringing in cheaper qat from abroad.

Still, the water crisis could be eased substantially through a return to rainwater collection and better management, Mr. Renger said. Between 20 and 30 percent of Yemen’s water is lost through waste, he said, compared with 7 to 9 percent in Europe.

In Jahiliya and other areas around the capital, the World Bank is leading a project to change wasteful irrigation patterns.

Mr. Amer, the farmer based here, proudly showed visitors his efforts to irrigate fruit and tomato fields using rubber tubes, instead of just funneling it through earthen ditches that allow most of the water to evaporate unused. Little hoses spray the crops with water instead of wastefully soaking them.

But he also pointed out two local wells where the water is dropping at the astonishing rate of almost 60 feet a year, causing the land to subside. Nearby, sinkholes in the arid soil of his property are growing longer and deeper every year.

“We have been suffering for years from this,” he said, gesturing at a cast-off drill rig that broke after going down too deep into the earth.

The Yemeni engineers working on the World Bank project concede they have had tremendous difficulty convincing other farmers — and even government agencies — to take their efforts seriously.

“There is no coordination with other parts of the government, even after we explain the dangers,” said Ali Hassan Awad. “Prosecutors don’t understand that drilling is a serious problem.”

Mr. Eryani, the water minister, takes the long view. Yemen has suffered ecological crises before and survived. The collapse of the Marib dam, for instance, led to a famine that pushed vast numbers of people to migrate abroad, and their descendants are now scattered across the Middle East.

“But that was before national borders were established,” Mr. Eryani added. “If we face a similar catastrophe now, who will allow us to move?”

Letter from India - A Roadway From Hope to Sorrow - NYTimes.com

Image by Ravages via Flickr

By AKASH KAPUR

PERUNTHURAI, INDIA — E. Vinayagam remembers when the country road outside his village ran through a forest. When Vinayagam, born in 1947, was a boy, he and his friends were scared to go to the road at night; the forest was thick, and it was rumored to be haunted.

Vinayagam remembers when the road became a highway. A group of surveyors showed up one morning with their equipment. They were marking what would become the East Coast Road — an ambitious highway project, financed in part by the Asian Development Bank, that runs nearly 800 kilometers, about 500 miles, along the southeast coast of India.

The East Coast Road, or ECR, was built in the late ’90s. Vinayagam was an impoverished agricultural laborer at the time. The highway changed his life. He set up a thatch tea shop by the side of the road. It was a humble establishment, but traffic was picking up, and the thatch hut was soon a two-story concrete structure that served branded cold drinks and fresh fruit juices.

Land prices were picking up, too. Vinayagam got interested in real estate. He started small, helping some of his customers at the tea shop find plots for beach homes. He closed a few big deals for doctors and movie stars in Chennai, just over an hour’s drive from his village of Perunthurai. He built a new house; he bought some land of his own.

Today, Vinayagam exudes the easy confidence of a self-made man. The person who introduced us said of him: “This is a guy who 15 years ago didn’t even know how to open a car door; now he drives his own fancy car.” Vinayagam parks his red Scorpio jeep outside his tea shop. It gleams in the harsh coastal sun.

Amid the reams of policy documents and prescriptions on the Indian economy, there is one common refrain: The country needs better infrastructure. India’s airports and electricity lines and roads are woefully inadequate. The government is seeking $70 billion of investment for roads alone in the next three years. It argues that better infrastructure could help promote economic development in the same way that technology has done.

A drive along the ECR, which runs a short distance from my house, would appear to confirm this premise. The road is lined with commercial activity, restaurants and mechanic shops and beach resorts that have dramatically altered the horizons of local villagers — men like Vinayagam, who at one time seemed destined for nothing more than agricultural work, or women like A. Uma, who I met in the village of Venangapattam, where she had recently set up a small provisions store.

She is a 37-year-old widow, a mother of three, who used to get by with part-time work on her neighbors’ farms. But the farms dried up, she told me, and times were tough. Her store, built opposite a new marriage hall that attracts customers from as far as Chennai, promises a fresh start.

Down the road from Uma’s store, a boating center draws busloads of noisy tourists. They paddle in rowboats and picnic along the edge of stunningly beautiful backwaters; they sustain a thriving economy that has only recently come into existence.

The tourists also leave behind plastic bags and paper cups and plates. This is the detritus of development, spread along the coast like an insidious confetti. A decade ago, when the ECR was being built, many activists objected. They protested the trees that would be cut, and the social and environmental disruption that they said would inevitably ensue. Today, the backwaters, home to delicate mangroves that protect the shore, are choking. Water tables are declining, and village ponds are silting up. The ECR has brought too much development. The land can’t bear it.

A little farther on from the boating center, in the village of Panichamedu, farmers talk about abandoning agricultural work, selling their property, moving to the city. They complain about wells that have become empty, and rising salinity in those that still have water. Large tracts of land that once would have been green with rice are fallow.

Fishermen in the village bemoan the prawn hatcheries that dot the coast. The owners of these hatcheries extol the ECR, crediting it with cutting travel times to their markets and boosting business. But their success comes at a price: The chemicals and antibiotics they use are polluting the groundwater and even, some fishermen claim, the ocean.

Not too long ago, when development was a colder, more technocratic enterprise, the types of harm caused by the ECR would have been dismissed as necessary collateral damage. Imbued with a missionary zeal, the development establishment threw around phrases like: “You have to break some eggs to make an omelet.”

Development is a more sensitive field these days. Most infrastructure projects are preceded by environmental impact assessment reports intended to help minimize collateral damage. But whenever I drive along the coast, I can’t help feeling that the omelet analogy is alive and well — that ecologies and livelihoods are still being broken, and that the price of progress is often paid in human lives.

In Perunthurai, Vinayagam told me about all the people he knew who had been killed by traffic on the ECR. At least 50 people have died in the area since the road was built; he’s lost five relatives. His uncle’s son died six months ago, his cousin died a year and a half ago, and his nephew also died recently, when his motorcycle was squeezed between a truck and a bus.

We were sitting under a banyan tree by the side of the road when Vinayagam told me about all this destruction. The sun was high and his car was shining. He shrugged his shoulders. He said: “When a road comes, high speed will come naturally. No one can do anything about it. This road has changed my life. Without it, I would still be just a farmer.”

Estrada Begins Unlikely Comeback in Philippines - NYTimes.com

Image by Getty Images via Daylife

By CARLOS H. CONDE

QUEZON CITY, PHILIPPINES — It was an improbable sight: a slightly hunched man, with a gait that suggested either his age (72) or infirmity (a bad back and knees that required replacement surgery), beating up a taller opponent no older than 30.

The older man ducked as the younger one tried to bang him with a piece of wood. He cut him down with a right to the abdomen and a left hook to the face, sending his adversary stumbling to the ground. Then another opponent got smacked in the face and kicked in the midsection with one of those bad knees. Yet another came along, and he, too, went down, crashing into a table.

“I missed doing this,” the older man, Joseph Estrada — longtime actor and onetime president of the Philippines — said moments after the director cried “Cut!” Mr. Estrada then walked toward the gate of the bus terminal where the movie was being shot and waved at the gawking crowd, which delightedly waved back. He moved closer to his fans, who giggled, hugged and kissed him, some whipping out cellphone cameras.

“Don’t forget me, okay? We will take back Malacanang!” he hollered as he clambered up the hood of a jeepney, the ubiquitous Philippine minibus. The crowd responded by chanting his moniker: “Erap! Erap! Erap!”

Malacanang is the presidential palace, and Mr. Estrada managed to stay there for less than half of his six-year term. He was driven from office in 2001, during what is now known as People Power 2, after a Senate impeachment trial on allegations of corruption — including accusations he took kickbacks from gambling lords — was cut short by attempts by Mr. Estrada’s allies to suppress evidence, sending Filipinos to the streets in protest.

Last week, Mr. Estrada announced during his party’s convention that he would run again for president in the election next year, calling it his “final, final performance.” The announcement, needless to say, flummoxed his political opponents and upset the Philippines’ already rambunctious politics.

Mr. Estrada, returning to movies after a break of more than two decades — which includes the six years he spent in prison for plunder and corruption — satisfies a lifelong passion. “I love making movies. Without the movies, there would not be a Joseph Estrada,” he said in between takes on the set of the comedy “One and Only Family.”

And returning to politics — despite his promise to President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo when she pardoned him in 2007 that he would never again seek elective office — is a chance to take care of unfinished political business. In an interview on the movie set, Mr. Estrada said his decision to run again was important to him “so I can clean up my name and prove to those who removed me that they were wrong.”

Whether he can accomplish this is not clear. The Philippine Constitution prohibits a president from seeking another term. Mr. Estrada insists, however, that he was never given a chance to finish his term, so this doesn’t apply.

“I am not running for re-election,” he said. “I am running for election.”

His opponents, particularly within the Arroyo administration, vow to take the issue to the Supreme Court.

More than settling old scores, however, Mr. Estrada insists that he is acting in the interests of the nation. “I want to continue what I started,” he said.

He promised, for instance, to resume his “all-out war” against Islamic separatists and Communist insurgents. And, he added, with no hint of irony, “There is so much corruption going on now that we have to have change.”

Saddled with the corruption charges, which he continues to deny, and a legacy of misrule, which he continues to challenge, Mr. Estrada hopes to endear himself once again to Filipinos — through the movies, at least for now.

Many still adore him, but many, too, are offended not just by his audacity but also by his insistence that what happened in 2001 was an illegal coup staged by the country’s elite.

“It is only in the Philippines where a disgraced president who was ousted by a people’s uprising would dare run for the presidency again, without atoning for his past mistakes and even insisting that he did nothing wrong,” wrote Benjie Oliveros, a political columnist.

Indeed, Mr. Estrada’s assistants have been distributing a flier featuring some of the world’s most influential publications criticizing People Power 2.

“Gloria Macapagal Arroyo took over the presidency in constitutional circumstances that do not stand up well to scrutiny,” says The Economist. “People Power has become an acceptable term for a troubling phenomenon, one that used to be known as mob rule,” says Time magazine.

“They hated me so much that they never stopped demonizing me,” Mr. Estrada said, puffing on a cigarette that he tried to hide each time a photographer snapped his picture. (“I don’t want young people to see me smoking,” he said.) “They threw at me not just the kitchen sink but also the toilet bowl,” he said, chuckling, evidently pleased with his play of words. “But I never stopped being the president of this country.”

That appears true, at least on this movie set in Quezon City. He arrived with the trappings of power: in a shiny, black Lincoln Navigator, escorted by two police officers on motorcycles. The umbrella his assistant held over him bore the presidential seal. People addressed him as “presidente.” The set was Mr. Estrada’s domain, just as Malacanang had been.

In the 1950s, show business provided an escape for Mr. Estrada, who had dropped out of an engineering course. Of the 10 children in the family, Joseph Marcelo Ejercito — as he was known before he adopted the screen name Joseph Estrada — was the only one who did not graduate from college.

But, he says, he made up for it by excelling in the movies. He made more than 100 films in a career spanning three decades and won countless acting awards.

In many of these films, Mr. Estrada portrayed poor men seeking justice. Although he was never really poor, he said he “identified with these roles” and tried to plumb the depths of his characters. “I researched my roles so I understand how it is to be poor,” he said. “I have been a jeepney driver, a labor leader, a Communist guerrilla.”

These roles endeared him to Filipino voters, Mr. Estrada said, enough for them to elect him first as mayor — for 17 years — of San Juan, a suburb in Metro Manila, then as senator, vice president and finally president. He impressed nationalists when he produced and starred in “In the Claws of the Eagle,” a 1991 film that was highly critical of U.S. military bases. “I am proud to say that that movie helped in kicking out the bases,” he said.

That the movie he is making now is a comedy about a jeepney driver who gives his daughter’s boyfriend a hard time — in other words, a movie with no obvious political significance — is hardly an issue with Mr. Estrada. “I enjoy doing this, and I missed doing this,” he said. Besides, the movie, with its use of the iconic jeepney, could advance his political agenda; a movement he created, “Jeep ni Erap,” continues to recruit supporters.

After a makeup artist retouched his face, Mr. Estrada stood up and positioned himself beside a jeepney to rehearse another fight scene. With a brio that seemed somewhat at odds with his hunched figure and sagging features, he lunged at a thug, grabbed his head and slammed it on the hood of the vehicle. The director yelled “Cut!” — and Mr. Estrada, ever so slightly, pumped his fist.

Oil and Gas Price Increases Meet Opposition in Philippines - NYTimes.com

Image via Wikipedia

By CARLOS CONDE

MANILA — When the three largest oil companies in the Philippines increased the pump prices of diesel, gasoline and kerosene on Oct. 20, they set off more than the usual grumbling from consumers and transport groups. With millions of Filipinos still reeling from the effects of successive typhoons, the corporations were criticized as greedy, insensitive, callous and predatory.

The companies — Royal Dutch Shell, Petron and Chevron (known here under the brand Caltex) — increased the per-liter prices of diesel by 2 pesos, or 4 cents, an increase of about 6.7 percent. Gasoline prices went up 1.25 pesos a liter, or a 4.74 pesos a gallon, and kerosene by 1.50 pesos. According to the Ibon Foundation, an independent economic research group, the increases were the biggest of the year. The companies insist the increases reflect world oil prices; crude has risen from as low as $32.40 in December to about $79 this week.

Changes in the price of fuel have been a touchy subject here since 1998, when the government passed the Oil Deregulation Law. In addition to taking away government control of pricing and opening the industry to foreign investment, the law removed longstanding government subsidies of oil products. Although the deregulation has been unpopular with voters, the government has not backtracked — until now.

President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo issued Executive Order 839 in the past week, demanding that the oil companies reduce their prices on the main island, Luzon, or face penalties.

Many consumers praised the decision and her “political will” and said the decree could help millions of Filipinos recover from the recent calamities. But economists, business groups and industry analysts said the unprecedented intervention could scare investors away from the country, and create fuel shortages and a new black market.

“This government seems to have lost its sense of what it should be doing,” said Peter Wallace, founder of the Wallace Business Forum, a consulting group that advises some of the largest multinational companies in the Philippines. The country, he said, “is attracting the lowest level of foreign investments among major countries in Asia. So you have to ask the question why it issued the executive order.”

Mr. Wallace said if the government wanted to reduce the cost of fuel for consumers, it could have given out discount coupons to those directly affected by the typhoons. As it is, he said, “those with S.U.V.’s are the ones that will benefit from the price controls, not the poor people.”

Except for Shell and Petron, which refine oil in the Philippines, all oil companies here import their finished products. Because the prices of these refined products are tied to world markets, the companies now might think twice about importing more, given the possibility of losses, said Benjamin Diokno, an economist and former budget secretary.

“The wisdom of E.O. 839 will come to its severest test once oil product supply is disrupted,” Mr. Diokno wrote in BusinessWorld, a Manila newspaper. “For the oil firms who were enticed by the downstream oil industry deregulation law, this recent E.O. is a nightmare.”

The oil companies have complied with the order, and rolled back prices. But they warned that the order might have grave consequences, among them “supply disruptions and negative impact on the investment climate in our country,” according to Roberto Kanapi, a Shell spokesman.

Even now, just days after the order was announced, the oil companies are saying that their losses stemming from the directive will be large, with Petron alone estimating a 1.5 billion-peso loss in the fourth quarter. The government has not indicated when it might lift the executive order.

Oil consumers, meanwhile, have welcomed the decree. Raul Concepcion, a Filipino industrialist who heads the nonprofit Consumer and Oil Price Watch, said the oil companies had it coming. The companies’ “predatory pricing” in the years since the Oil Deregulation Law was passed created the conditions that prompted the reimposition of price controls, he said.

“If there was total transparency in the pricing of oil products, then the oil companies would not be suspected of predatory pricing,” Mr. Concepcion said. Ralph Recto, Ms. Arroyo’s economic planning secretary, had accused the oil companies of overpricing by as much as 8 pesos per liter of gasoline, a charge the companies denied.

The companies have insisted, now and in the past, that their prices are dictated by the market. None have been prosecuted for predatory pricing, despite allegations from groups including Mr. Concepcion’s. But because prices at the pump tend to move all at once, and because the companies have refused to open their books to scrutiny, suspicion has grown among the public.

Some people are urging the government to expand the price freezes nationwide. “Why impose the price controls only in Luzon? The other islands should also be covered, especially because the price of oil in the Visayas and Mindanao are 5 to 7 pesos more expensive compared to Luzon,” said George San Mateo, secretary general of Piston, the country’s largest group of public-transport operators and drivers. Visayas and Mindanao are the two other main island groups in the archipelago.

Mr. San Mateo said he was worried that the oil companies would try to offset their losses in Luzon by overpricing in other areas — a concern shared by Mr. Recto, who recently resigned as Ms. Arroyo’s economic adviser. He said the order would “penalize” consumers in other places.

The executive order may have helped shift the political atmosphere and opened up new opportunities for opponents of deregulation. Already, there are resolutions pending in Congress seeking to repeal the 1998 law.

Satur Ocampo, a congressman, said the law “is a mistake and a burden to poor Filipinos.” It has made the oil companies abusive, he said.

“Even without the administration admitting it, and despite its adherence to deregulation, the recent price hikes have shown that the deregulation policy is a failure,” said Renato Reyes Jr., secretary general of the New Patriotic Alliance, an umbrella group of grass-roots organizations that has pushed for the repeal. “An alternative to deregulation is now in order,” he said.

East Timor May Use Its Struggle as Tourist Lure - NYTimes.com

Image via Wikipedia

DILI, EAST TIMOR — East Timor’s struggle against Indonesian occupation may soon become a money maker. The government is considering plans to promote major sites of the 25-year fight for independence as part of a tourism campaign.

East Timor, a former Portuguese colony, was invaded in 1975 by Indonesia, but a secessionist movement soon emerged, led by Xanana Gusmão, who is now the country’s prime minister, and José Ramos-Horta, its president.

Mr. Gusmão spent much of the occupation either in jail or on the run, often hiding with guerrilla fighters in East Timor’s mountainous terrain; Mr. Ramos-Horta lived in exile, campaigning for independence.

An estimated 180,000 people died during the occupation, including 1,000 the U.N. said were killed during a 1999 vote for independence.

But tourists regard East Timor’s turbulent past as an attraction, a Japanese tour guide, Noriko Inaba, said as she escorted a Japanese tour group to Dili’s Santa Cruz cemetery. More than 200 East Timorese were killed there in 1991, when Indonesian troops fired on mourners, an event known as the Dili massacre.

“It’s an historical place because of the tragedy,” she said. “This is one of the things we came to see here.”

The cemetery’s caretaker, João da Costa, said tourists often visited the site and took photos.

“If more people came from overseas, maybe we could develop faster,” he said.

East Timor’s tourism minister, Gil da Costa Alves, said the government wanted tourism to contribute more to economic growth in a country that is one of the poorest in Asia and dependent on oil and natural gas revenues for the bulk of state finances.

While there are serious obstacles, including poor infrastructure and a shortage of hotel rooms, he sees an opportunity to promote the historic sites, beaches and wildlife.

“We have this opportunity for historical tourism, for people who are interested in those sites that are part of our history,” he said.

“Even the cave where Xanana was in hiding — this is a place we can promote, and other places around the country where our leaders were hiding up in the hills.”

About 19,000 people visited East Timor last year, up from about 12,000 in 2006, when tourists stayed away because of political strife.

Mr. Alves said he hopes that East Timor can attract as many as 200,000 tourists a year within five years.

However, Loro Horta, an East Timor analyst based at Singapore’s Nanyang Technological University, was skeptical.

“The entire country has less than 700 rooms. Right now it’s already difficult to get rooms in Dili,” said Mr. Horta, who is also the son of the president.

“So 200,000 a year — that’s something like 700 a day. How exactly are they flying there and where are they going to stay?”

Mr. Horta said more affordable flights to Dili, a bigger airport and a more reliable power supply were also needed before East Timor could compete with Bali in Indonesia as a tourist destination.

“I really hope I’m wrong, but we will be lucky if we can get 50,000 a year by 2014,” he said.

Mr. Alves said a new infrastructure plan — including a $600 million redevelopment of the airport, the construction of boutique hotels and the improvement of basic infrastructure like roads — would increase tourism.

He said a broader tourism campaign would be aimed at the Australian and Japanese markets and would involve advertising and competitions like a recently opened fishing tournament and the Tour de Timor bicycle race, which took place earlier this year.

Last year, the government opened the Nino Konis Santana National Park in an effort to protect many of its animal and plant species while providing a new attraction for tourists.

“Our strategy is to focus on the things that make East Timor different to surrounding destinations,” Mr. Alves said.

Reuters

South Korea Struggles With Attitudes Toward Race - NYTimes.com

Image by maHidoodi via Flickr

By CHOE SANG-HUN

SEOUL — On the evening of July 10, Bonogit Hussain, a 29-year-old Indian man, and Hahn Ji-seon, a female Korean friend, were riding a bus near Seoul when a man in the back began hurling racial and sexist slurs at them.

The situation would be a familiar one to many Korean women who have dated or even — as in Ms. Hahn’s case — simply traveled in the company of a foreign man.

What was different this time, however, was that, once it was reported in the South Korean media, prosecutors sprang into action, charging the man they have identified only as a 31-year-old Mr. Park with contempt, the first time such charges had been applied to an alleged racist offense. Spurred by the case, which is pending in court, rival political parties in Parliament have begun drafting legislation that for the first time would provide a detailed definition of discrimination by race and ethnicity and impose criminal penalties.

For Mr. Hussain, subtle discrimination has been part of daily life for the two and half years he has lived here as a student and then research professor at Sungkonghoe University in Seoul. He says that, even in crowded subways, people tend not sit next to him. In June, he said, he fell asleep on a bus and when it reached the terminal, the driver woke him up by poking him in the thigh with his foot, an extremely offensive gesture in South Korea.

“Things got worse for me this time, because I was with a Korean woman,” Mr. Hussain said in an interview. “Whenever I’ve walked with Ms. Hahn or other Korean women, most of the time I felt hostilities, especially from middle-aged men.”

South Korea, a country where until recently people were taught to take pride in their nation’s “ethnic homogeneity” and where the words “skin color” and “peach” are synonymous, is struggling to embrace a new reality. In just the past seven years, the number of foreign residents has doubled, to 1.2 million, even as the country’s population of 48.7 million is expected to drop sharply in coming decades because of its low birth rate.

Many of the foreigners come here to toil at sea or on farms or in factories, providing cheap labor in jobs shunned by South Koreans. Southeast Asian women marry rural farmers who cannot find South Korean brides. People from English-speaking countries find jobs teaching English in a society obsessed with learning the language from native speakers.

For most South Koreans, globalization has largely meant increasing exports or going abroad to study. But now that it is also bringing an influx of foreigners into a society where 42 percent of respondents in a 2008 survey said they had never once spoken with a foreigner, South Koreans are learning to adjust — often uncomfortably.

In a report issued Oct. 21, Amnesty International criticized discrimination in South Korea against migrant workers, who mostly are from poor Asian countries, citing sexual abuse, racial slurs, inadequate safety training and the mandatory disclosure of H.I.V. status, a requirement not imposed on South Koreans in the same jobs. Citing local news media and rights advocates, it said that following last year’s financial downturn, “incidents of xenophobia are on the rise.”

Ms. Hahn said, “Even a friend of mine confided to me that when he sees a Korean woman walking with a foreign man, he feels as if his own mother betrayed him.”

In South Korea, a country repeatedly invaded and subjugated by its bigger neighbors, people’s racial outlooks have been colored by “pure-blood” nationalism as well as traditional patriarchal mores, said Seol Dong-hoon, a sociologist at Chonbuk National University.

Centuries ago, when Korean women who had been taken to China as war prizes and forced into sexual slavery managed to return home, their communities ostracized them as tainted. In the last century, Korean “comfort women,” who worked as sex slaves for the Japanese Imperial Army, faced a similar stigma. Later, women who sold sex to American G.I.’s in the years following the 1950-53 Korean War were despised even more. Their children were shunned as “twigi,” a term once reserved for animal hybrids, said Bae Gee-cheol, 53, whose mother was expelled from her family after she gave birth to him following her rape by an American soldier.

Even today, the North Korean authorities often force abortion on women who return home pregnant after going to China to find food, according to defectors and human rights groups.

“When I travel with my husband, we avoid buses and subways,” said Jung Hye-sil, 42, who married a Pakistani man in 1994. “They glance at me as if I have done something incredible. There is a tendency here to control women and who they can date or marry, in the name of the nation.”

For many Koreans, the first encounter with non-Asians came during the Korean War, when American troops fought on the South Korean side. That experience has complicated South Koreans’ racial perceptions, Mr. Seol said. Today, the mix of envy and loathing of the West, especially of white Americans, is apparent in daily life.

The government and media obsess over each new report from the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, to see how the country ranks against other developed economies. A hugely popular television program is “Chit Chat of Beautiful Ladies” — a show where young, attractive, mostly Caucasian women who are fluent in Korean discuss South Korea. Yet, when South Koreans refer to Americans in private conversations, they nearly always attach the same suffix as when they talk about the Japanese and Chinese, their historical masters: “nom,” which means “bastards.” Tammy Chu, 34, a Korean-born film director who was adopted by Americans and grew up in New York State, said she had been “scolded and yelled at” in Seoul subways for speaking in English and thus “not being Korean enough.” Then, she said, her applications for a job as an English teacher were rejected on the grounds that she was “not white enough.”

Ms. Hahn said that after the incident in the bus last July, her family was “turned upside down.” Her father and other relatives grilled her as to whether she was dating Mr. Hussain. But when a cousin recently married a German, “all my relatives envied her, as if her marriage was a boon to our family,” she said.

The Foreign Ministry supports an anti-discrimination law, said Kim Se-won, a ministry official. In 2007, the U.N. Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination recommended that South Korea adopt such a law, deploring the widespread use of terms like “pure blood” and “mixed blood.” It urged public education to overcome the notion that South Korea was “ethnically homogenous,” which, it said, “no longer corresponds to the actual situation.”

But a recent forum to discuss proposed legislation against racial discrimination turned into a shouting match when several critics who had networked through the Internet showed up. They charged that such a law would only encourage even more migrant workers to come to South Korea, pushing native workers out of jobs and creating crime-infested slums. They also said it was too difficult to define what was racially or culturally offensive.

“Our ethnic homogeneity is a blessing,” said one of the critics, Lee Sung-bok, a bricklayer who said his job was threatened by migrant workers. “If they keep flooding in, who can guarantee our country won’t be torn apart by ethnic war as in Sri Lanka?”