LIKE REAL-ESTATE developers who worry most of all about location, the leaders of North Korea have three clear priorities in mind as they turn to the outside world - survival, survival and survival.
South Korean and foreign analysts who might differ on the finer points of dealing with Pyongyang generally agree on this much: the battered regime of 'Dear Leader' Kim Jong-il is motivated above all by the desire to outlast its many problems and keep its grip on power. Thus, it is opening to others, cautiously and reluctantly, mostly because this is the price that must be paid. The regime finds little merit in this for its own sake and sees much danger in dropping its guard to become a more normal nation, however unavoidable.
'The regime's survival is the critical priority,' says a senior Western diplomat in Seoul. 'It hopes to muddle through with a minimum of change.'
This puts distinct limits on what to expect on the Korean peninsula, still officially at war though the serious shooting stopped nearly 50 years ago. Military tension and an enduring sense of confrontation might be reduced further - the peninsula is at its safest level for decades - but true rapprochement across the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) seems unlikely.
Mr Kim, newly launched as a bon vivant on the diplomatic scene, will continue taking all he can get and demanding more. But he will continue to give as little as possible in return.
Not that this unduly worries the Seoul Government or its allies. They still see scope for major progress on the two things that concern them most: strengthening the peace, and preventing the North from turning into a costly and unstable disaster zone needing rescue. In effect, this means propping up the Kim regime with additional aid without reciprocity in any strict definition of the word. After studying the East German example, South Korea decided it could not afford a sudden collapse in the North.