A war, a bank and Asian allies
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By Andrew Salmon
To the U.S. soldiers, shivering in freezing positions among ruined villages and gaunt winter hills, the enemy appeared out of nowhere.
Rallying to the eerie calls of bugles and cymbals, a mass of men surged forward, more like a crowd than a military unit.
The GIs desperately firing back at this frontal attack did not know that while they were fixed in their position, other enemy units were infiltrating around their flanks and setting up ambushes deep in their rear. When the Americans abandoned their positions and tumbled into their vehicles, they found the road swept by fire.
The enemy was the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army; the place was North Korea; the time was winter 1950. Borrowing from the ancient military philosopher Sun Tzu, who advised generals to attack "like water,” the Chinese assault flowed over and around strong points. It was dubbed the "human wave” and proved a simple but brilliant tactic for a cross-country, peasant army to use against a road-bound, mechanized force.
After successfully defending South Korea in the summer months, U.S.-led U.N. forces had counter-invaded North Korea in October. By December they were routed and forced into a catastrophic retreat, laying waste to all infrastructure behind them in a “scorched earth” policy that left much of North Korea in ruins.
While free-world forces would eventually fight communist troops to a draw ― both North and South Korea would remain in existence as separate states ― the trauma north of the 38th parallel would leave a lasting scar on the U.S. military psyche.
Never again, not even at the height of the Vietnam conflict, would U.S. ground troops invade (or counter-invade) a communist state. In Korea, the concept of "limited war” had been forced down the throat of a nation historically accustomed to outright victory.
If the grim campaign in North Korea marked the moment that the "sleeping dragon” awoke in a politico-military sense, we may now be in a similar defining moment in the economic space, for China’s Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank, or AIIB, is hacking away at America’s financial pre-eminence.
Since the end of World War II, the U.S., armed with the dollar, has led global financial institutions. The AIIB challenges this preeminence at a time when the yuan’s convertibility is rising. Given the American antipathy toward President Xi Jinping’s initiative, it looked, at first, as if China would be joined only by minor players in its plan to create a financial institution to funnel Beijing’s colossal forex reserves into infrastructure projects.
But when London ― arguably, Washington’s staunchest ally globally ― announced that it would sign up, other major economies scrambled aboard Beijing’s accelerating bandwagon. Now Berlin, Paris, Rome, Canberra and even Tel Aviv want in. So does Seoul.
America’s powers of persuasion appear to have deserted her; her antipathy toward the AIIB now looks ill-judged. But one major economy ― and key U.S. ally ― is still wavering over the AIIB: Japan.
Currently, Seoul is waging a diplomatic war against Tokyo: this country’s prime minister and foreign minister have recently expressed vocal dissatisfaction with that nation’s leadership, while President Park continues to snub Prime Minister Abe’s requests for a bilateral summit. A furious PR war is concurrently underway, with Korean media and civic groups loudly declaiming historic Japanese crimes and alleged lack of contrition.
There are signs that U.S. policymakers are growing irritated by South Korea’s refusal to make peace with Japan, and even liberal U.S. media are starting to report the Japanese, as well as the Korean, voice on historical issues.
Meanwhile, the recent U.S. defense secretary’s visit to Tokyo indicates that Washington is preparing to upgrade its alliance with a Tokyo that seeks a more militarily assertive stance ― a stance which makes South Koreans squirm. Moreover, Japan is, unlike Korea, a key player in the Trans-Pacific Partner free trade deal, and Abe is on the verge of his highly anticipated address Congress.
As Washington seeks to draw Tokyo and Seoul into a tighter strategic cordon, Washington may shift ever closer to Tokyo if Seoul’s Beijing drift continues.
U.S. military prestige was battered by China in Korea. Now, with the AIIB, U.S. economic prestige has taken a Sinic hammering. It appears strongly in Korea’s national interest to join the AIIB; the unfurling proxy battleground between Beijing and Washington looks set to be the THAAD (Terminal High Altitude Area Defense).
Beijing has been loudly critical of this U.S. missile defense system, but will Seoul balance its economic nod toward Beijing’s AIIB by accepting Washington’s strategic overtures on THAAD? Perhaps.
Regardless, Seoul’s policymakers and diplomats will have to bob and weave adroitly between the punches hurled by Beijing and Washington ― while Japan staunchly holds America’s coat in the corner of the ring.
Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at
andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.