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JL wenty-five years ago, America’s first major combat involvement in an Asian land war ended. Three years of fighting had produced more than four million casualties, wreaked untold hardship upon the civilian populace, devastated the Korean peninsula— and terminated in a truce with major combatants in confrontation across borders only marginally changed from those of the war’s onset.
Soldiers and sailors who cut their professional teeth in Korea are today their services’ fading generation. Yet their successors along the demilitarized zone—perhaps the world’s most combat-ready unengaged forces—perpetuate the bristling impasse of 1953- If local territorial or political change is the measure of accomplishment, the Korean War ended in a costly and inconclusive stalemate which has persisted through the subsequent quarter century.
However inconclusive within the peninsula, the war’s consequences reverberated throughout the world. Korea institutionalized the Cold War, rearmed America, and galvanized the development of NATO. The truce perpetuated a divided Korea and established continuing U. S. presence on the mainland. Antipathy toward China and alliance with Taiwan became fundamentals of U. S. Asian policy. Korea set the pattern for limited war and global involvement and presaged the social dangers of unpopular wars. Demonstrating U. S. commitment, the Korean War facilitated Japanese recovery and economic development.
In this 25th anniversary year, Korea has again been much in public attention. Americans are dis-
The Republic of Korea still finds itself in much the same position as in 1953 when Mark Clark, observed by Vice Admirals Robert P. Briscoe and Jocko Clark, signed the armistice agreement. The South remains an island, 6,000 miles from its patron, and the vulnerability of Seoul, heart of the republic, can not be masked by any amount of Armed Forces Day balloons and bravura.
tressed at charges of government repression in the Republic of Korea, and the congressional investigation of alleged improprieties by a putative agent of the Korean Government was widely reported. Early in the preceding year, the president had announced a phased withdrawal of remaining U. S. ground forces in Korea, although reiterating U. S. defense commitments and assuring continued naval and air support. Compensatory adjustment to Republic of Korea armaments are expected to cost in the billions, which some congressional leaders hinted might not be forthcoming if their investigation did not receive desired cooperation from the Korean Government. Some press responses to the president’s announcement questioned not only the move’s wisdom but also the adequacy of domestic and international consultation. The Joint Chiefs of Staff indicated concurrence, but there was public concern that troop withdrawal might be destabilizing.
This latter concern pinpoints one of the most significant and possibly least recognized consequences of the Korean War: a quarter century of regional stability in Northeast Asia. Stability commands little notice in strategic discussion, attention tending to focus upon ephemeral alarms and the potential for cataclysm. Reactions to the capture of USS Pueblo, (AGER-2), destruction of the EC-121 intelligence plane, the “tree chopping” killings, guerrilla raids, and saboteur incursions are all examples of the tendency to concentrate upon the spectacular incident. Rather than being examples of regional instability, however, these incidents are better understood as manifestations of the potentially explosive nature of the circumstances upon which the region’s stability is so largely based.
Koreans, north or south, are a nationalistic, patriotic, and fiercely dedicated people. The present division of their country is a frustration of the full sovereignty they naturally expected after expulsion of the Japanese. The division also perpetuates a traditional factionalism, much of it in response to foreign pressures, which has characterized and impeded political integration of Korean society for centuries. In effect, Korea is still paying the price of, and to a surprising degree, reenacting the traditional responses to the political pressures arising from its geographic location, a location where national interests have historically been in almost constant conflict. That these pressures should result in frequent explosions is almost inevitable. The goal of statecraft, absent the ability to prevent the explosions, should be to contain them and prevent their disruption of the entire region.
Appreciating the seeming paradox of a relatively long period of regional stability growing out of the bristling stalemate along the demilitarized zone is essential to an understanding of both the politico- strategic situation in Northeast Asia and the senstiv- ity of responsible authorities to suggestions of change in existing circumstances. Since the status of international relationships results from a complex array of factors, it may be inappropriate to describe the Korean stalemate as the cornerstone of regional stability. It is, however, one of the major building blocks. The contribution of the stalemate lies in the fact that the 1953 truce, to a very significant extent, neutralized the Korean peninsula as a factor in regional strategy and politics. The nature and importance of this neutralization are to be found in an understanding of the traditional and contemporary strategic role of the peninsula in regional affairs.
Historical Background: Korea has traditionally been a geographic locus where interests of regional powers collided. One problem in popular appreciation of Korean strategic centrality is that U. S. perceptions arise out of a historical eclipse extending across most of the first half of this century. Korea became a Japanese colony in 1910, before most living Americans were born. Thereafter, it played no spectacular role—although its possession was essential to Japanese ascendancy in Asia—in world affairs, and it was involved in none of the major battles of World War II. Further, in early 1950, U. S. attention was focused on Europe, on NATO, on the recently ended Berlin Blockade, and on Soviet development of the atomic bomb. If Americans were aware of Korea at all when it leaped into national attention in June 1950, it was as a remote Asian backwater of poorly known location which their Secretary of State had publicly placed outside the U. S. defense perimeter only six months before. U. S. Far East policy, reflecting deep discouragement with Chinese Nationalist defeat on the mainland, was one of “withdrawal and consolidation.” Against this background it is easy to understand popular acceptance—if imperfect strategic interpretation of— General Omar Bradley’s statement that Korea was “. . . the wrong war, at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and with the wrong enemy.”1
To those few Americans familiar with Korea before 1950 and to those thousands who followed thereafter, the initial impression was indeed of a remote backwater. What they discovered was a barren, im-
'U. S. Congress, Senate, Military Situation in the Far East, Hearings Before the Senate Committees on Armed Services and Foreign Relations, 82nd Congress, 1st Session, p. 732.
region.
Korea and the world entered a new era with the end of World War II. The scope of international conflict shifted from regional, nationalistic wars to global ideological competition. Yet, if anything could confirm—particularly in Korean eyes—the basic strategic centrality which had rendered Korea both the pawn and pivot of broader affairs, it was the unfortunate irony that the first armed clash of the two essentially Western philosophies should be fought in a distant corner of the Orient known as Korea.
Contemporary Strategic Setting: Neither passage of time nor advancing weapons technology has modified the strategic impact of Northeast Asian geography. Although the two giants of the area are quintessential land powers and predominant regional force lies in massive Soviet and Chinese armies counterpoised along some of the world’s longest borders, even land strategies are tied to maritime considerations. One of many reasons is that two of the most important and vulnerable territories, Manchuria and the Siberian Maritime Provinces, lie at the eastern end of these borders and are thus in some degree vulnerable to flanking by sea. The Maritime Provinces are important to Soviet economic development, form the Pacific anchor of Soviet global strategy, and are the only part of the Soviet empire dependent upon maritime lines of communication.
Manchuria, agriculturally, industrially, and strategically, is even more critical to China. While not so highly maritime dependent, it is certainly susceptible to the impact of maritime operations, the moreso since to landward it is surrounded on three sides by Soviet-controlled territory. Significantly, Manchuria lies beyond the Great Wall, traditionally marking China’s defensible limits. While a historic truism states that China’s vastness renders it invulnerable to conquest, it is silent as to loss of exposed provinces. Many military authorities consider the Soviet Union’s rapid 1945 seizure of Manchuria, albeit from a weakened defender, as testimony to its vulnerability. When China, Japan, and tsarist Russia contended for primacy in Manchuria, success fell to the power controlling the sea.
Control of regional seas, however, is not a simple matter. Clear access to the open Pacific occurs only in the extreme north. The archipelagic character of the Western Pacific masks mainland coasts and forms a number of Seas—Yellow, East and South China, Japan—and numerous narrow passages creating strategic opportunities and limitations that even land powers cannot ignore. For example, Russian sea-lanes to the Maritime Provinces are vulnerable the entire distance from Singapore to Vladivostok. The North Sea route and Trans-Siberian Railway provide at best uncertain and vulnerable contact with industrial support centers far to the west. Completion of the Baikal-Amur-Mainline Railway will provide some improvement, but it is doubtful that eastern Siberia will soon become independent of the sea.
China appears less vulnerable, but terrain and limited transport dictate that about 60% of Chinese domestic commerce must be moved by coastal shipping. Further, China sees growing Soviet Pacific naval power as an additional element of “encirclement” and will be displaying increasing sensitivity to regional naval balances.
Japan, Taiwan, and South Korea are almost totally dependent upon the sea for import of raw materials and export of manufactures. Only North Korea appears to enjoy a comparative independence from the seas, but its fortunes remain tied to those of its patrons, and it has had ample opportunity to observe the utility of seapower in peninsular warfare. Korea thus sits at a strategic hub. It marks the confluence of three of the regional seas and forms the southern land flank of Manchuria. Its importance to Sino- Soviet strategy is manifest, while to the east the Japanese have traditionally considered Korea as “a dagger pointed at the heart” of their islands. Symbolism and past history aside, the Japanese, supported by many military authorities, consider Korea vital to the defense of their country.
It is this relevance to the interests of all regional powers which makes neutralization of the Korean peninsula, based upon the 1953 stalemate, so critical to regional stability. Today, since no single power is dominant in the peninsula, none realizes the strategic advantages and none is exposed to the corresponding threat. This may be seen by considering possible alternatives to the present situation.
While desire for reunification burns with equal intensity in Seoul and Pyongyang, both are presumably restrained by their patrons. South Korea certainly could not attack the North—at least in present circumstances—without assurance of U. S. support, which is an unlikely prospect. Nor is it likely that either China or the Soviet Union wishes to risk war with the United States over Korea, a possible consequence of involvement in any North Korean adventure. Obviously, each has too many more important issues at stake. Another less evident reason is that even were a North Korean attack successful, both China and the Soviet Union would then confront the prospect of the other’s dominance in a united Korea. The simple cost of competition, given the existence of a much more flexible, fractious, and certainly more independent Korea, is probably more than either enjoys contemplating. But the consequences of failure in such a competition would be even more distasteful to entertain because the price of failure would be so great that neither could afford not to compete.
China’s stakes in this conjectural situation are manifestly much higher than the Soviet Union’s. Soviet supremacy would confront China with potential flanking of Manchuria by land and sea from the south along with the possibility of denial of all maritime areas north of the Shantung Peninsula. The Soviets’ Asian position would be immeasurably improved politically and militarily with access to Korean ports and presence on the Korean Straits.
The U.S.S.R. would be less strategically disadvantaged by Chinese dominance in a united Korea, although its political isolation north of Hanoi would be complete. While Japanese-U. S. presence on the Korean Straits already represents a potential hazard, Chinese presence in light of current antagonisms would be quite another matter. At the very least, it would add another complicating element to Soviet contingency planning for the area. Domination of Korea by either power would, of course, trouble Japan. While Japan seeks closer ties with China, it is by no means clear that closer ties envisage reduction of physical distance to 90 miles or hazarding Japanese investments in South Korea. Soviet presence would probably be an even more odious prospect.
Thus, while the stalemate on the Korean peninsula is probably totally satisfactory to no one, it does represent something of an optimal balancing of interests. That any of the participants would be willing to risk the costs and uncertain consequences of an attempt to alter the situation in its own favor seems highly doubtful. It is little wonder that if any cheers have risen from Northeast Asia following announcement of further U. S. force reductions, they have been muted to the point of inaudibility. One may even question whether North Korea itself can be too reassured by the prospect. The reasons may be found in a closer examination of the strategic circumstances within the peninsula.
Peninsular Setting: Detailed review of orders of battle and other specifics of the local Korean situation is neither possible, nor necessary, within the limits of this discussion. The crux of the military situation may be reduced to a relatively few strategic and tactical factors.
On the ground, the South Korean Army is numerically superior to the North’s and enjoys twice the North’s manpower mobilization base. The North is superior in numbers of aircraft (now redressed by U. S. forces), armor, and probably artillery. The two navies are not comparable. Both have defense as a primary mission. The North’s fleet, divided between two coasts, is composed of light, fast, heavily armed units. Missile boats and submarines provide a growing interdictory capability, and there is a light amphibious assault capability. North Korea has also invested heavily in coastal defense installations and hardened bases.
South Korea’s navy reflects the “balance” concept of its U. S. sponsor. The largest units are ex-U. S. destroyers, and there are a few missile craft among the numerous patrol vessels. While the South has more tonnage and gun firepower, the North seems to have adapted more imaginatively to the needs of a peninsular war.
One significant advantage for the North is a broadly developed indigenous armament industry capable of manufacturing heavy weapons, armored vehicles, small naval vessels, and submarines. The South’s military industrial base is incipient. The advantage has cost North Korea heavily, however, and the South appears to be in a much more favorable economic condition.
The preeminent strategic factor of the Korean peninsula is the South’s isolation. South Korea suffers all the disadvantages of an island position with none of the advantages, being totally dependent upon sea lines of communication to a patron some 6,000 miles distant. The North enjoys relatively secure lines of communication to its patrons.
The second most critical factor in Korea is the vulnerability of Seoul—capital, major population and industrial center, and the spiritual and political heart of the Republic of Korea. Its proximity to the demilitarized zone places it virtually within artillery range of North Korean forces. Further, the rugged terrain of Korea provides little opportunity for maneuver and deployment. Successful defense consequently depends upon the ability of forward deployed forces to contain a heavy and sustained assault with minimum loss ot territory.
From even these few tactical and strategic considerations, time emerges as probably the key factor in defense of South Korea, both in short- and long-term projections. North Korea learned the capability of seaborne logistic support in the 1950s. Any hope for success in a future attack will depend upon its ability to achieve decisive victories before seaborne reinforcement can be combined with superior South Korean manpower reserve. All factors considered, time required for such victories might be surprisingly short. Indicative of the criticality of initial operations in a limited peninsular theater is the observation of one historian that “the most important surface engagement” of the Korean War occurred on its first night when a South Korean patrol craft sank a North Korean troopship making for Pusan. Virtually defenseless at the time, Pusan’s loss could have affected the course of the war. At the very least, it would have increased the war’s cost to the United States.
History shows that early victories do not invariably win wars. They can, however, allow a patient enemy, despite overall inferiority, to achieve an incremental gain presenting a superior opponent with a fait accompli which individually appears not worth the cost of reversal. Eventually, cumulative effect produces the desired result. A comparatively miniscule Japan used this “salami” strategic approach with great effect against the Chinese and Russian behemoths in its rise to Asian dominance. In a narrowed context, it could be equally applicable in the Korean peninsula.
Operation of the time factor in the longer term may be seen in the extrapolation of the relative positions of the two Koreas in the context of existing trends and projected developments. Given the South’s two-to-one population advantage, a more expansive economy, development of an armaments industry, and lessening reliance upon the United States, the military balance of power in the peninsula could eventually shift irrevocably to the South. This might embolden the South to act on its urge to reunite the two Koreas. A corollary danger, however, is that northern perception of growing southern power might generate a “now-or-never” reaction stimulating preemptive attack.
Future Prospects: In Northeast Asia, as in most of the world, perceptions of U. S. resolve and capability serve as basic policy determinants. Foreign capitals monitor U. S. domestic reaction to Vietnam and Watergate as assiduously as our own commentators do. That these analyses have brought U. S. commitment, resolve, and capability into question can hardly be denied. Particularly in Northeast Asia, U. S. force reductions, failures in diplomatic consultation, ill-considered embargoes, and recurrent economic antagonisms have introduced frequent strains in our long-standing alliances.
U. S. adoption of a triangular political strategy featuring detente with the Soviet Union and an “opening” to China has been one of the most fundamental political changes affecting Northeast Asia. Although many U. S. allies support the approach’s logic, the manner of its execution—in great secrecy and without consultation of allies with deeply involved interests—was unsettling. Apprehensions of further surprises, hardly ameliorated by the essentially unilateral decision to withdraw ground forces from Korea, have been induced, along with suspicions of U. S. constancy.
All political moves incur costs, and continued support of Taiwan appears to be the going price for whatever advantages inhere in the triangular approach. Weakened or severed bonds may not result in immediate military hazard for Taiwan, but it will result in political isolation. It should come as no surprise to us if Taiwan’s attempt to forestall isolation identifies the Soviet Union as an expedient political ally. Itself relatively isolated in Asia with influence
limited to Hanoi and Pyongyang, the Soviet Union’s association with Taiwan would reduce the political gap and possibly provide the bonus of access to naval facilities close to the Chinese mainland.
Other possible political realignments of this sort are theoretically limited only by mathematics. Although some of the possible combinations may seem highly improbable, international developments— including U. S. policy shifts—indicate that pragmatism can surmount ideology. Coalitions apparently impossible today may be unavoidable tomorrow. For example, despite present acrimony, few serious observers are willing categorically to eliminate the possibility of Sino-Soviet rapproachinent.
At least the last three U. S. administrations have actively pressed the doctrine of greater selfsufficiency and independence for our allies. It is not clear, however, that the full consequences of the espoused position have always been thoroughly evaluated. A change in national status, including degree of independence, is a change in the existing regional balance and attendant stability to which all other nations must respond.
A common response, apart from shifts in political alliances, is adjustment of armament levels. Armament levels are particularly sensitive in Northeast Asia because of the anomalous position of Japan. It is a major economic power without corresponding military capability, a nation whose defense is guaranteed by a distant superpower (and economic competitor). This situation is virtually unparalleled in modern history and is considered by some so inconsistent with imperatives of national security as to be insupportable. The possibility of Japanese rearmament is a specter which haunts all peoples of Asia, including most Japanese. Unfortunately, the possibility rests on such a delicate combination of factors that relatively minor changes could transform it into a probability. To place the problem in its starkest context one needs but pose the question of impact on Japanese attitude toward its own rearmament if South Korea, in response to U. S. urgings to greater self-sufficiency and independence, decided that nuclear weapons were essential to its security.
There is a multitude of additional military, political, and economic factors too numerous for coverage here which bears upon the stability of Northeast Asia. One which must be mentioned, however, is the impact of the energy crisis and the potential for Asian oil development. There now appears little question that Asian seabeds cover extensive oil deposits; some estimates speak of “another Persian Gulf.” The question is rather of economically practical recovery. Should that practicality be demonstrated, one of the first consequences would be the problem of peacefully resolving the region’s multitude of conflicting territorial claims.
Prospects for peaceful resolution may not be high, but even more disturbing possibilities are involved. A Japanese oil expert has observed that ”... when China does become an oil country, it will change the appearance of Asia.”3 But China does not hold the sole potential. Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan all claim oceanic areas of significant prospect. Difficulties in the resupply of Israel during the Yom Kippur War have already demonstrated the strains oil can generate even in an alliance as strong as NATO. With oil now one of the most vital national interests and its possession a source of worldwide power, the prospect of Asian oil contains within it the potential for massive reordering of existing alliance patterns in Northeast Asia and possibly throughout the world.
It is apparent that stability in Northeast Asia, while a long-lasting phenomenon, is also a delicate one. The potential for radical change is ever present, and U. S. interests are inevitably involved. No matter how long-standing, no matter how strong present congruity of interest might appear, international balances and stability are deceptive, as much the product of events as of the labors of statesmen. Stability has much in common with the delicate sensitivity of a pile of jackstraws or the treacherous immobilization of forces within a logjam. Inexpert attempts to modify the position or change the nature of a single element can trigger disaster. If we hope to enjoy the benefits of another 25 years of stability in Northeast Asia, our approach should reflect a full appreciation of this condition.
■‘Yoshihito Shimada, quoted in Selig S. Harrison, China, Oil, and Asia: Conflict Ahead? (New York: Columbia University Press, 1977), p. 161.
Captain Tarpey entered the Navy in 1943 and was commissioned from the NROTC Unit, University of * Virginia, in June 1946. His sea duty included destroyers, amphibious and mine forces, cruisers, and a battleship. During the Korean War he participated in : m the Inchon, Wonsan, and Hungnam operations. Com- VJL / 1 mands included a minesweeper, mine division, and de
stroyer. He has served in the Western Hemisphere Branch and as Head, Africa, Middle East, and South Asia Branch of the Politico-Military Policy Division (Op-6l), OPNAV, and as Director, Weapon Systems and Fleet Training Division, Bureau of Naval Personnel. A graduate of the Industrial College of the Armed Forces, he was also director of the College’s International Relations curriculum. He holds a master’s degree in international relations and organization from The American University and a doctorate in political science from Stanford University. Since retirement in 1974, he has been an independent consultant in management and policy sciences and in national security matters. Captain Tarpey lives in Alexandria, Virginia.