A poor 2026 harvest of radishes and napa cabbage is set to cause a kimchi shortage in parts of North Korea this winter. The shortfall threatens a staple that families depend on to get through the long, cold months. For a country grappling with a prolonged economic crisis and chronic food shortages, kimchi is far more than a side dish. North Koreans often call kimjang, the annual autumn ritual of making enough kimchi to last until spring, “half a year’s food.” A shortage of kimjang vegetables can therefore hurt the entire winter diet of ordinary families, not just their budgets.
This year’s cabbage and radish crops are weaker than last year’s, according to a Daily NK source in South Pyongan province. The shortage will likely hit hardest in Pyongsong, Sunchon, Kaechon, Pukchang and Anju, home to coal mines and major industrial plants. These towns lie just north of Pyongyang and form one of the country’s most important industrial belts.
Farms in South Pyongan province planted fewer vegetables this year, and poor yields have left them short of planned supply targets. Bad weather has also stunted the growth of radishes and cabbages, which has cut the volume of the first autumn shipments to market.
A kilogram of radish now sells for more than 6,000 North Korean won in local markets. A kilogram of cabbage, meanwhile, has climbed above 7,000 won, according to prices reported from the area. Both figures are roughly double what the vegetables cost in January of this year. Even allowing for normal seasonal swings, families preparing for kimjang face a heavy financial burden. The strain is worse now that rice prices have topped 50,000 won per kilogram for the first time.
North Korean families faced a similar squeeze at this time last year. In late 2025, Daily NK reported that many families in Ryanggang and North Hamgyong provinces were giving up on kimjang. Many households could not afford basic ingredients such as cabbage, radish and red chili powder. The episode points to a structural problem tied to purchasing power and food security, not a one-off production slump. By March 2026, kimchi had grown so scarce that neighbors beat a Hyesan man they caught stealing it.
Kimchi shortage traces back to the wheat and barley push
More striking is the apparent link between North Korea’s agricultural policy and the shortfall in kimjang vegetables. In late 2021, Kim Jong Un ordered a shift in grain production toward a diet built on white rice and wheat flour. He announced the policy at a plenary meeting of the Central Committee of the Workers’ Party of Korea. The committee is the ruling party’s top decision-making body between congresses, and its plenary meetings set major economic policy. Collective farms have since expanded their acreage for wheat and barley to meet the party’s demands.
The push for autumn wheat and barley sowing has led some areas to convert radish and cabbage fields, the source said. Satellite imagery analyzed by Daily NK in 2025 showed that wheat and barley cultivation grew 22% on average across three sample areas. One of those areas was Kaechon, the same South Pyongan city now facing a vegetable shortfall.
Of course, the wheat and barley drive alone cannot explain this year’s vegetable shortage in North Korea. Erratic weather, shortages of fertilizer and pesticides, and fragile farm infrastructure all play a part as well. Still, a farming system that ranks central plans above local conditions and actual demand may well have worsened the imbalance. That possibility deserves careful scrutiny from anyone tracking the North Korean economy.
Kimjang vegetables hold a central place in the winter diet of ordinary North Koreans. Price spikes and supply gaps hit hardest in mining and factory towns, where workers rely on food from outside. Struggling families are the most likely to go without enough kimjang ingredients this year. That lowers the quality of their diet through the coldest months of the year.
The deeper problem lies in a system that judges agricultural policy solely by whether farms fulfill their production plans. Farm managers and officials focus on carrying out orders from above and hitting their quotas. When that happens, the crops that ordinary people actually need can slip down the list of priorities. Officials often vie to prove their devotion to the party by overfulfilling targets, a practice called “loyalty competition.” That rivalry can leave the everyday needs of North Koreans largely unmet.
The issue goes well beyond simple inefficiency in North Korea’s farm production. Making sure that people can reliably obtain enough suitable food is a basic duty of any state. If agricultural policy truly aims to improve how North Koreans eat, it must weigh access and affordability alongside output and plan fulfillment.
In that sense, this year’s kimchi shortage also raises the question of North Koreans’ right to food, which appears in the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, which North Korea joined in 1981. United Nations human rights reports on North Korea regularly cite the country’s failure to uphold it. When state plans collide with people’s basic dietary needs, a system that shifts the burden onto ordinary families must change.
To that end, regions and individual farms need more freedom to choose crops that suit local growing conditions. Farmers should also be able to grow and sell radishes, cabbages and other vegetables in response to market demand. Even if the state keeps its agricultural production plan, it should allow farms and farmers some flexibility. They should be able to pick at least some of their own crops and sell their own produce.
Above all, North Korea needs a new yardstick for judging its agricultural policy. How much of the state’s planned harvest farms deliver still matters. Whether ordinary people can buy the food they need at reasonable prices matters just as much. In the end, agricultural policy should center on the real lives of North Koreans, not just the goals of the state.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.
Daily NK operates networks of sources inside North Korea who document events in real-time and transmit information through secure channels. Unlike reporting based on state media, satellite imagery, or defector accounts from years past, our journalism comes directly from people currently living under the regime. We verify reports through multiple independent sources and cross-reference details before publication.
Our sources remain anonymous because contact with foreign media is treated as a capital offense in North Korea — discovery means imprisonment or execution. This network-based approach allows Daily NK to report on developments other outlets cannot access: market trends, policy implementation, public sentiment, and daily realities that never appear in official narratives.
Maintaining these secure communication channels and protecting source identities requires specialized protocols and constant vigilance. Daily NK serves as a bridge between North Koreans and the outside world, documenting what’s happening inside one of the world’s most closed societies.
November 3, 2026 at 06:07AM
by DailyNK(North Korean Media)
