Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse Choi Hyoung-chan, a resident of the South Korean border island of Ganghwa, walks past one of his rental homes, which has seen a recent drop in visitors.
Claire Lee – Agence France-Presse in Ganghwa-gun
Published at 16:00
- Asia
Gunshots, sinister laughter, ghostly howls: every night, the South Korean island of Ganghwa is bombarded with blood-curdling noises by North Korea, 2 kilometers away, a bizarre campaign of psychological warfare that is putting residents on edge.
Separated from North Korea by the Han River estuary, northwest of Seoul, Ganghwa was until now best known for its landscapes of mountains, rice fields and small villages. “We used to enjoy the peaceful sounds of nature, the chirping of insects and birds,” Kim Yun-suk, 59, told Agence France-Presse (AFP). “Now, all we hear is this noise.” »
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse Kim Yun-suk prepares baked sweet potatoes in his home. 
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse General view of a road along a border fence (left) on Ganghwa Island
North Korea began making the sounds in response to the South Korean military resuming loudspeaker broadcasts of K-pop and international news along the border in July. Seoul took the measure in retaliation for North Korea sending thousands of garbage-laden balloons toward the South.
Ahn Hyo Chol, 66, remembers North Korean propaganda broadcasts of the past, which vilified the South's leaders and praised the Pyongyang regime.
While today, “they’re howling wolves, ghost noises,” he says. “It’s unpleasant. It gives me chills. It’s really weird.”
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse Ahn Hyo Chol on a path on the South Korean border island of Ganghwa
“Tormenting people”
For Park Heung-yeol, a city councilor in Ganghwa, “this is not just propaganda from the regime. It’s really meant to torment people.” »
An AFP team visited Ganghwa overnight and heard the horrifying sounds being broadcast at the top of their lungs. The eerie mix of death rattles, the crackle of automatic weapons, explosions, haunting laughter and screams, and eerie music begins at 11 p.m.
Sleep deprivation and deafening noise are well-known forms of torture. Experts say exposure to more than 60 decibels at night increases the risk of sleep disturbances. In Ganghwa, AFP measured North Korean noises reaching up to 80 decibels.
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse A phone indicating 11:26 p.m. is placed next to a decibel meter, which shows the 79.8 decibels reached.
200% Deposit Bonus up to €3,000 180% First Deposit Bonus up to $20,000“I find myself taking headache medicine almost all the time,” said An Mi-hee, 37, who also complains of anxiety, eye pain, facial tremors and drowsiness. “Our children can’t sleep either. They get mouth ulcers and fall asleep at school.” »
In desperation, Ms. An even knelt down in tears before National Assembly members in Seoul in October, begging them to find a solution.
“I'd rather have an earthquake”
“I'd rather have a flood, a fire, or even an earthquake, because with these things you always know you'll get over it,” An says. “Now you don't know if it's going to continue until the person giving the orders in North Korea dies, or if it could stop at any time. You just don't know.”
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse Local resident An Mi-hee poses in a field near the illuminated border fence.
Seoul politicians “should come here and try to live with this noise for just 10 days. I doubt they can stand it for more than a day,” fumes Choi Hyoung-chan, 60, another Ganghwa resident.
According to sound engineers consulted by AFP, the noise appears to be a crude mix of clips from a sound library, like those used by radio and television stations. “It sounds like something out of a South Korean horror movie from the 1970s and 1980s,” said one of the engineers, Hwang Kwon-ik.
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse A North Korean loudspeaker is visible beyond a fence on Ganghwa Island.
Some speculate that by broadcasting these noises, North Korea is, in fact, trying to drown out the sound propaganda coming from the South, fearing that it will incite its troops to defect.
In August, just after Seoul resumed propaganda, a North Korean soldier managed to cross to the South on foot. Some experts have suggested that the South’s music and messages encouraged him to attempt the dangerous crossing of the demilitarized zone, which is riddled with mines and other booby traps.
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse General view of the North Korean side of the demilitarized zone from the Ganghwa Peace Observatory 
Photo: Anthony Wallace Agence France-Presse Sound designer Min Myjng-ki (center) and other sound experts gathered in a studio in Seoul as they analyze a recording of these sounds.
But Lee Su-yong, a professor of audio production at the Dong-Ah Institute for Media and the Arts, says that assumption doesn’t hold water, since North Korean speakers face south. “If you want to mask a sound that’s directed north, then the sound used to cover it up must also be directed north,” he says. “Given the structure of the sound, it seems like it’s less about masking noise and more about inflicting pain on the people of the South.”