If someone asked me to identify three things that most profoundly changed our lifestyle in the past decades, I would readily choose the computer, smartphones and free trade. Not much explanation would be necessary, but I should mention that the third item is related to my dinner table.

In restaurants and in grocery stores, we face the onslaught of the outcomes of free trade agreements. Australian beef, Belgian pork, Chinese chicken and even North Korean gosari (bracken) and mushrooms are vying for a space in the shopping cart along with Thai shrimp, Philippine (or UAE?) clams and Canadian mackerel. Free trade permits affordable prices and commodity variety for consumers, not to mention easier avenues for Korean exporters. But, alas, it could force rice, the mother of all food in Korea, to wither away.

Last week, we witnessed a familiar scene of the leaders of farmers’ associations shaving their heads in protest. Their colleagues sprayed polished rice over the helmets of riot police who were trying to control the demonstrators in front of the government complex in central Seoul. The farmers’ action followed an Agriculture-Forestry-Fisheries Ministry announcement that the government would allow rice imports with tariffs from next year.

Rice farming has received a double blow. While rice consumption continues to decline in Korea, global free trade has totally deprived the pricey Korean rice of international competitiveness. But Koreans are not ready yet to deny its place in their life. It is something more than a simple commodity. Everyone has strong attachment to and nostalgia for the grain which links our past adversities to a more affluent present.

Rice is “ssal,” similar in sound to “sal,” which means flesh. Really, rice constitutes the flesh and bones of Koreans. Rice farming came to Korea via southern China and was passed on to Japan around B.C. 400 (according to Japanese legend). Members of the older generation can remember their poor mothers sighing at the depleted contents of the rice chest, the most important piece of furniture in the house. The endless greenness of watered paddy in summer imbues the earth’s energy to the beholder and the golden sheet covering the entire field before harvest delivers gratitude and satisfaction to our soul.

Changes were inevitable, however. An average Korean ate 62.7 kilograms of rice in 2013, less than half of the amount of individual consumption in 1970. Koreans now supplement their diet with meat, dairy products, vegetables, fruit and a lot of instant noodles. The stainless steel or ceramic rice bowls became smaller over the decades, and whether in restaurants or at home, the vessel is rarely filled to the brim.

The Saemaul Movement of the 1970s was a nationwide campaign to increase rural income through the cultivation of cash crops and planting of high-yield rice strains in straightened paddy fields that allow the use of farm machines. In the middle of the 1970s, balance was achieved between rural and urban household economies and, most remarkably, South Korea overtook North Korea in all categories of economic competitions thanks to higher rice production.

Continued industrialization in the 1980s onwards drew manpower from rural communities to industrial plants, suburban workshops and service industries. The result was the fall of the farming population to 9 percent of the national total by 1995 and further down to 5.7 percent, or 2.85 million, by 2012. The proportion of farmers aged 65 or older accounted for 16.5 percent of the total in 1995, and now more than a third in farm areas are in the old-age group.

More discouraging figures can be found on the Internet. The share of the agricultural sector in the gross domestic product declined from 5.4 percent in 1995 to an unbelievable 2.2 percent in 2012 in this nation where farmers used to dance under banners reading “Farming is the great basis of the world.” Now, two-thirds of farm households earn less than 10 million won ($9,800) a year from the sale of their produce.

Further sad statistics on rice: Korea produced 4.23 million tons of rice in 2012. As the rice price hovered around 170,000 won per 80 kg bag, the annual production was worth a mere 9 trillion won. This marks 20 percent of the year’s total agricultural production of 44 trillion won and 0.75 percent of a GDP of 1,200 trillion won. And this is after the government released 200 trillion won for 20 years to cope with the impact of the market opening, 26 trillion won of this to maintain and improve the infrastructure for rice farming.

These numbers represent politics, not economy. It is like pouring water into a bottomless jar. Even after the government discontinued the annual purchase of “autumn grain” (rice) a decade ago, directly releasing subsidies to farmers instead, the authorities occasionally intervened in the market with the excuse of securing emergency grain, eventually weakening the competitiveness of our rice farms. Now, they are contemplating a 400 percent tariff on foreign rice, which can ward off imports for some time, but the rate has to be cut back gradually.

Not even a genius can come up with an easy solution. I am loath to imagine what will happen to the great expanse of the Gimje-Mangyeong Plain of North Jeolla and the beautiful Jincheon field in North Chungcheong if the nation chooses to leave rice farms fallow, unable to overcome the WTO, FTAs and expected “Trans Pacific Partnership.” Can we cover all the fields with vinyl greenhouses and grow strawberries, blueberries, tulips and roses for rich consumers in China and Japan?

The unalterable principle is to save rice farming at a minimum cost, and the first rule is to produce as much as we consume. The second rule should be to export as much rice as we import, by upgrading the quality of the product. The international price of rice has recently gone up due to an increase in global consumption. Pessimism is not acceptable. If a “creative economy” is to be pursued, rice farming is the area where farmers (corporate or individual), scientists, food processors and distributors must collaborate under creative guidance and the support of local and central governments.

There is a vital part for consumers to play in this national endeavor. It is to increase the consumption of rice in the belief that rice is the best, healthiest food and is most suitable for our bodies. In the meantime, farmers’ associations need to restrain their protests on past government policies and make constructive proposals to tide over the difficulties. 

By Kim Myong-sik

Kim Myong-sik is a former editorial writer for The Korea Herald. ― Ed.