hotel rooms and restaurant seats empty in this peak season. “We originally expected 40,000 tourists in October but the actual number will be half that because of the nuclear test,” says Jang Hwan Bin, an executive at Hyundai Asan, the South Korean firm that operates the tour project. “If this business fails, it would be a tragic loss for not only our company but also the whole Korean peninsula.”

The problems at Mt. Kumkang highlight the uncertainty these days between the two Koreas. Following a Washington-led U.N. resolution condemning the nuclear test, the international community agreed to limited sanctions on North Korea. U.S. Assistant State Secretary Christopher Hill isn’t happy that Mt. Kumkang is a cash cow for the North. Officials in South Korean President Roh Moo Hyun’s administration say they might scale down the project, but refuse to close it completely. Last week Pyongyang warned that Seoul would pay “high costs” if it succumbed to U.S. pressures–a threat that was echoed by northerners working at Mt. Kumkang. “Our nuclear weapon is to protect both Koreas from U.S. imperialists,” said Kim Hyun Shil, a 23-year-old North Korean guide at the mountain. “The South will fight against U.S. attempts to close the project.”

In fact, the site is precious for both Koreas. For the South, it is the most significant achievement of its decade-long “sunshine policy” of engagement with the North. Since 1998, more than 1.3 million southerners have visited the mountain, which is almost sealed off from the rest of the North. In comparison, fewer than 1,000 southerners had visited the North during the previous 50 years. Seoul hopes the project will promote further détente and eventual unification. Southern tourists, particularly young ones, say that visiting the mountain and interacting with northerners (even if they are only a handful of tour guides who spout Pyongyang propaganda) gives them a sense of filial attachment with their neighbor.

The North’s motive can be summed up in a word–cash. Hyundai Asan has paid Pyongyang about $450 million so far for entry and visa fees, and doled out another $450 million to pursue various business projects in the North. The company hopes to turn the area into a resort town equipped with golf courses, ski slopes and even a casino. A $70 million golf course is scheduled to open next year.

Critics argue the money sent to Pyongyang is helping to prop up the dictatorship of Kim Jong Il, and may even help fund the production of nuclear or conventional weapons, while the North Korean people go without food. Conservatives in Washington and Seoul assert that any benefits are exaggerated; personal contacts between northerners and southerners at the tourist site are tightly regulated, and political discussion is banned.

The nuclear test has discouraged many potential visitors. Some canceled trips because of security concerns; others because they disapproved of the provocative act by North Korea. Hotels and restaurants were more than half empty last week. And new tour reservations have fallen significantly since the test, according to Hyundai Asan. The company originally projected a record 400,000 visitors to Mt. Kumkang this year, but its latest forecast is 260,000. Next year could be worse; Seoul is likely to eliminate some incentives for prospective tourists. One possibility: canceling the subsidies it now provides for student visits in the off-season.

Northerners, unsurprisingly, are stoic. “We have survived under U.S. sanctions for more than 50 years,” says Kim Jung Geum, a hotel-bar waitress. “Sanctions will make us even stronger.” Despite her tough words, a look of concern crossed her face as she surveyed empty tables at her bar. Mt. Kumkang may eventually become a gateway to unification. But right now, it’s a plum target for realpolitik, as the international community tries to squeeze a dictator.