With formal supply chains collapsing and government-issued rations dwindling, these underground marketplaces have surged in both size and importance, operating across nearly every region of the country, often in plain view of local authorities. Items once impossible to find—rice, cooking oil, medicine, secondhand Chinese electronics—are now available for a price, if one knows where to look.
“The jangmadang are no longer just survival spaces; they are parallel economies,” said Shin Hye-jin, a North Korean defector and researcher based in Seoul. “They feed families, distribute essential goods, and have become more reliable than the government in many areas.”
Sources with contacts inside the country report that even military personnel and local party officials increasingly rely on the markets for food and consumer products. Bartering is common, and transactions are often conducted in foreign currency—primarily Chinese yuan and U.S. dollars—despite strict prohibitions.
This rise of market activity is occurring against the backdrop of economic freefall. A combination of harsh UN sanctions, pandemic-era border closures, declining agricultural output, and limited foreign trade has led to widespread shortages and inflation. The state’s attempt to reassert control over prices and currency has largely failed.
“In many towns, it’s the markets—not the government—that are keeping people alive,” said Dr. Lim Tae-hoon, an analyst at the Korea Institute for Security Studies. “But the regime views these markets as both a necessity and a threat.”
Indeed, the North Korean government has launched repeated crackdowns over the years in an attempt to suppress the influence of black-market actors. Punishments range from fines to imprisonment, and in some cases, confiscation of goods. But enforcement has proven inconsistent, and local officials often turn a blind eye—especially when they, too, benefit from market revenues through informal bribes or protection payments.
A new report from the Database Center for North Korean Human Rights suggests that the number of state-licensed market stalls has decreased over the past year, while unlicensed, makeshift markets have grown, indicating that control is slipping further into informal hands.
In an ironic twist, Pyongyang’s hardline economic model is being undermined from within—not by foreign intervention, but by the everyday actions of its own people who have learned to adapt, trade, and survive outside the planned economy.
As long as the state remains unable—or unwilling—to provide, the jangmadang will continue to fill the vacuum. For many in North Korea, the black market isn’t just a symbol of resistance. It’s the only system that works.