Burden Sharing
The United States can contribute to deterrence in Korea. In some cases it can do so by actions in areas far removed from Korea itself: the fact of the American prosecution of the Gulf War against Iraq, for example, has surely reduced the chance that Pyongyang will soon gamble with opportunistic confrontation. But some of the policies and actions that might bolster deterrence in Korea must be taken in the peninsula itself and must be unilateral in nature. Reemphasizing the U.S. commitment to South Korea’s defense would be one of these.
Today the Pentagon estimates that it would have no more than 24-hours lead time in the event of an attack from the North. As the end of the Kim II Sung era approaches the risk of conflict along the “demilitarized zone” is rising, not diminishing. It would be inappropriate at this juncture to instigate further reductions in U.S. force levels in South Korea, if Washington is to reduce the likelihood of the war it wishes to avoid in the region. With large cuts pending in both America’s global military budget and worldwide force levels the need to communicate an undiminished willingness and capability to support U.S. allies in Seoul may be all the more urgent.
But the task of deterrence in Korea also begs questions about America’s bilateral and multilateral arrangements. Perhaps most importantly it raises issues for the U.S.-R.O.K. security partnership. Close and warm as American-South Korean ties are, and effective as they obviously have been in assuring deterrence these past four decades, the relationship is nevertheless beset with problems. Most of these problems are not new, but their consequences are more obvious, and potentially more costly, at this delicate stage in North Korea’s history.
Three problems in the U.S.-R.O.K. security arrangement deserve special mention. The first relates to “intelligence sharing.” For many years the sharing process has been virtually a one-way transfer: Washington providing extensive information gleaned from aerial reconnaissance and intercepted communications, with Seoul offering little more than interpretation of current events in the North in return. Meager though it may be, Seoul’s contribution has nevertheless been important; North Korea is a modern-day “hermit kingdom,” and its capabilities and intentions can hardly be divined from photographs alone. But these lopsided intelligence arrangements no longer look so easy to justify.
A second problem has to do with the sharing of military burdens. Today South Korea is an advanced industrial nation. Seoul estimates the South Korean economy to be more than ten times larger than the North’s. To no small degree Seoul’s current security concerns derive from the fact that this threatened society has not allocated an adequate portion of its growing wealth to its own defense. Despite the imminent danger on its border, South Korea’s ratio of military expenditure to gross domestic product is actually lower than America’s (4 percent of GDP in 1990, versus 5.5 percent for the United States); its ratio of men under arms to total population is only slightly higher. America’s continuing defense commitment is arguably vital to the delicate balance that ensures the peace in Korea; at the same time, there can be no question that South Korea would pose a less inviting target to the leadership in the North (even during a period of internal instability) if it provided more for its own protection.
Finally, there is an issue that might be termed political burden sharing. South Korea can no longer be described as a helpless client dependent upon its American patron. Recent manifestations of Seoul’s “blame America” predilection are admittedly more benign than, say, during the Kwangju incident of May 1980, when the previous South Korean government suggested an American complicity, or even leading role, in the operation that culminated in the massacre of hundreds of civilians in that city. Nevertheless such tendencies raise questions about the degree to which South Korea is prepared to assume responsibility for the actions it judges to be vital to its own interests and security. By inflaming or creating anti-American sentiment among the South Korean public such tendencies also stand to drive a wedge between Washington and Seoul, thereby complicating security cooperation.
Longing for Reunification
Despite Korea’s long tradition of factionalism, and the serious disagreements between organized groups in the country today, the longing for reunification appears to be virtually universal and nearly overwhelming among Koreans in the South. A gauge of such sentiment in the North is beyond reach for now. Even under the best of circumstances the challenges to a successful Korean unification will be great, and will run deep–far deeper and greater than those that Germany faced. By any number of criteria Korea’s situation as it approaches unification is less auspicious than was Germany’s. If American policy is to influence events constructively, its public and its policymakers must understand the likely differences between what they have just seen in Germany and what they may soon view in Korea.
Consider the issue of military demobilization. East Germany and North Korea have roughly the same population–16 million versus 20 million–but Pyongyang’s army is believed to be more than seven times larger today than was East Berlin’s Volksarmee on the eve of German reunification. Nearly every fifth North Korean male of working age is in uniform and under arms. A free and peaceful Korean unification would make for a military build down of an utterly different magnitude from the one now underway in Germany; the strategic, political and social problems attendant to such a conversion would be correspondingly greater as well.
Moreover economic reunification could be considerably more difficult for Korea than it is proving to be for Germany. Five disadvantages may be adduced for Korea that did not obtain for Germany. First, North Korea is larger, relative to its divided neighbor, than was East Germany. Absorbing and providing for the postcommunist population thus stands to be a more massive task for Seoul than it has been for Bonn {and, here, it must be said, Chancellor Helmut Kohl vastly underestimated the costs, both in financial and political terms, of that absorption). Second, North Korea’s economy is even more distorted than was East Germany’s. Third, despite its material advance over the past generation, South Korea is not yet an affluent society. Its per capita output today is roughly a third of America’s and less than half of west Germany’s. Indeed intellectual and official circles in Seoul seem to be increasingly anxious about what Germany’s economic experience may portend for Korea. There are even those in Seoul who speak of the need to prop up the North and thereby postpone an over-hasty reunification.
Fourth, unlike East and West Germany, North and South Korea have had virtually no contact with one another over the past forty years. Apart from a tiny and privileged cadre North Koreans know virtually nothing about life in the South. With a rapidly reunified economy their exposure to this unknown society could coincide with massive layoffs and other social dislocations. At the same time a unified and free peninsula would presumably offer opportunities for millions of North Koreans to migrate en masse to the more materially inviting South. How a population raised in enforced economic innocence would respond to such a decompression is difficult to predict.
Finally, since North Korea, unlike East Germany, is no one’s satellite, Seoul cannot hope to ease or speed reunification through a well-placed bribe to an outside power; some future government in Beijing might well accept money for such a deal, but it would not be in a position to deliver on it.
Yet if there is a new and unexpected angst in South Korea regarding the economics of unification, it derives to some extent from a misreading of the purported “lessons of Germany.”
The cost of unification for a divided nation is not a predetermined sum, fixed and immutable. It is a quantity, rather, determined by human action and government policy. For better or worse South Korea is not yet a welfare state, and its labor market continues to be exposed to and conditioned by fierce competitive forces. However else a Korean reunification may suffer by comparison with Germany, Korea would be free from the fiscal burdens and the sclerotic restrictions that necessarily devolve from the arrangements of a “social market economy.” This difference speaks to an inherent Korean advantage in reunification–and hardly an inconsequential one.
Indeed one can imagine other ways in which integration of the two Korean economies could produce benefits for both. South Korea, for example, is today beginning to experience symptoms of labor shortage. Illegal immigrants are now a fact of life in Seoul: the main rail station downtown is now the site of an early morning market for foreign day-laborers, with Filipino, Bangladeshi and other workers negotiating temporary employment with local small businesses. (As many as 45,000 illegal immigrants are believed to have come to South Korea thus far to fill jobs South Koreans cannot or will not take.) With reunification the South’s incipient labor shortage could be immediately relieved. In theory it would be possible to raise purchasing power for workers from the North, reduce production costs and inflationary pressures in the South, and improve Korea’s overall competitiveness in international markets. Such opportunities, of course, might not be grasped for a variety of reasons. The point, however, is that these promising economic prospects and others would exist–and as a direct result of reunification.
The economic success of reunification in Korea will depend upon Seoul’s ability to establish an environment in the North that is conducive to high rates of return on both physical and human capital. Unfortunately it is precisely in its prospects for establishing such an environment in the North that Korea’s greatest disadvantage by comparison with Germany may be seen. For today the Federal Republic of Germany and the Republic of Korea are, at their essence, very different sorts of states. Whatever its imperfections the Federal Republic of Germany is a Rechtsstaat–a state administering and restrained by the rule of law. To date the Republic of Korea cannot be similarly described. It is this fundamental dissimilarity, perhaps more than any other, that will cloud Korea’s future if free and peaceful reunification of the peninsula is in fact achieved.
Holes in Rule of Law
THe Republic of Korea claims to be a democracy, and by some criteria may qualify as one. Certainly its polity has been evolving in the direction of pluralism. Under its current constitution both the president and legislators of the national assembly are selected by popular election. Since 1987 campaigns for these posts have been genuinely competitive, and tallied results appear to correspond with actual votes. It is no longer inconceivable for the ruling party’s presidential candidate to lose, or for incumbent members of the national assembly to be turned out of office. In and of themselves, however, universal suffrage and reasonably fair mass plebiscites do not betoken the rule of law, much less guarantee a civil society or a liberal order. Despite increasing pressures for accountability, the fact is that regular, impartial and limited governance remains an elusive ideal in South Korea.
Emblematic of the fragile foundations upon which civil society in South Korea currently balances are the troubles American and other Western businesses encounter in the realm of commerce. Though South Korea’s dazzling commercial performance and its outward economic orientation might have been expected to open great local opportunities for foreign concerns, the position of Western businesses operating in South Korea remains marginal, often tenuous. A principal factor in their plight seems to be that foreign corporations in Korea cannot expect protection under South Korean law and may be subject to arbitrary government-enforced restriction, sanction or punishment. In 1990, for example, Seoul initiated a “frugality” campaign against foreign consumer goods; foreign importers of those products and Korean citizens who purchased them were subjected to official, albeit extralegal, intimidation and harassment. Even more recently American and European firms in Korea formally complained that the country’s laws for protecting intellectual property rights (copyrights, patents and the like) continue to be largely unenforceable if the injured party is not Korean.
While foreign firms in South Korea surely suffer from the arbitrary exercise of government power, they are not the group most regularly and severely afflicted. That unwelcome accolade falls upon the Republic of Korea’s own citizenry. After all, next to the ordinary Korean, Western businesses in Korea have tremendous recourse if they feel they have been unjustly treated by the state. They have the financial wherewithal to pursue their case through the local courts. They can count upon their home governments to represent their interests through diplomatic channels. Denied all satisfaction, they have the option of withdrawing from Korea and relocating elsewhere. How much more vulnerable the ordinary Korean appears to be by comparison.
One can argue, of course, that the state is no more lawless in South Korea than in many–perhaps most–other Asian countries. Moreover, however lawlessly the South Korean state may have behaved over the past generation, its conduct quite obviously did not forestall rapid and sustained material advance for the populace under its jurisdiction. But as unification approaches, the risks and costs of failing to establish and abide by a rule of law will grow ever greater.
Overcoming Government by Grudge
Whatever else may be unclear today about Korea’s eventual reunification, it is sure to be attended by turbulence, for which the Clinton administration must soon prepare. It will also be a time of widespread apprehension in the North. The population of North Korea has known scarcely anything other than harsh Japanese colonialism and communist dictatorship. To the extent that they are aware of their history, they know that government by grudge is traditionally Korean–and that grudges have in the past been perpetrated against entire regions. Despite the longing for reunification in Korea, regional bitterness in that divided nation runs deep and has been inflamed still further during partition. Over a tenth of Korea’s population perished during the Korean War: most Koreans today can name at least one relative lost to that terrible conflict, and memories of the atrocities committed during the fighting remain vivid.
If deterrence has made possible the opportunities for reunification that exist in the Korean peninsula today, it is the rule of law that offers the key to the nation’s alternatives for the future. Can American policy–and American citizens–constructively contribute today to the establishment of secure and uncontested rule of law in Korea? If so, how? The answers to these questions are not obvious. Even so, there can be no doubt about the importance of addressing them. For Korea’s success–or failure–in constructing a civil society and a legal order will not only affect the well-being of the Korean people long after the division of the peninsula is formally ended, but will shape the nature of international security in northeast Asia in the years to come.



