Bigger sticks demand bigger carrots

By Andrew Salmon

It's different this time.

Having covered North Korea's nuclear detonations and missile tests for a decade, I anticipated the usual scenario. The script is exasperatingly predictable.

Pyongyang goes bang. Seoul, Tokyo and Washington go haywire. They convene the U.N, Security Council and demand further sanctions. Beijing appeals for "calm"… and that's it. Things blow over. Pyongyang boffins and Pyongyangologists have new data to ponder; otherwise, nothing changes. And the cycle repeats itself.

That was what I expected. I was wrong. Events have detoured off-script.

Apparently recognizing (at long, long last) that sanctions are ineffective and that Beijing is not playing ball, Seoul and Washington have removed their velvet gloves to reveal, if not an iron fist, a respectable set of knuckles.

Instead of pleading with Beijing to pressure Pyongyang, they are now pressuring Beijing to pressure Pyongyang. Their tactic? An announcement of talks over deployment of the U.S. missile shield (terminal high-altitude area defense, or THAAD) ― a system that China is vehemently opposed to – in South Korea.

This is creative pressure, craftily applied. Only talks have been announced; no deal has been done. This grants Beijing ample time and wriggle room to recalibrate its strategy.

The "different" scenario did not end with THAAD talks. With Pyongyang's nuclear test being closely followed by a missile test, Seoul (probably bowing to overseas demands) made a surprise announcement: It would "suspend" the inter-Korean Gaesong Industrial complex. In reality, "suspension" sounds like a death knell.

Kaesong survived previous nuclear and missile tests, as well as deadly military clashes in 2010. So why shutter it now? The announcement reeks of principle rather than pragmatism.

Seoul says around a third of the monies paid to North Korean workers may have been diverted to weapons programs. If true, why was Gaesong permitted to operate for so long? And total wages are only around $120 million a year – peanuts compared to cross-border trade with China that amounts to around $5 billion annually.

Will the move hit Pyongyang's pocketbook? Unlikely. Gaesong's 50,000 workers, familiar with modern factory operations, can redeploy to plants in China. I will go on the record and predict – though I hope I am wrong ― that Gaesong's closure will have no significant impact on North Korea's strategic arms programs.

And that is the crux of the matter. Gaesong was a symbol of inter-Korean cooperation, but the symbolic gesture of its shutdown – Seoul demonstrating hardline intent ― matters little in the strategic game.

More concretely, Gaesong 's closure closes a valuable cross-border communications channel. Now, with economic ties severed, the only linkages remaining across the DMZ are political, diplomatic and military. Since 1953, these channels have consistently failed to prod the North into change.

Seoul also surrenders a weapon in the information war. Pyongyang propaganda paints South Koreans as heinous enemies and deluded puppets, but Gaesong erodes this belief by showing average North Koreans that South Koreans are neither. Moreover, Gaesong, a blueprint for a potential economic colonization of the North, incubated manpower that could have, one day, have played a constructive role in further engagement or even reunification. No longer.

In sum: We are entering uncharted territory. What is the pro-con balance of these developments?

On the plus side, China, rattled by THAAD talks (particularly if they proceed to substantial negotiations), may get tough with Pyongyang. With Pyongyang running a trade deficit with Beijing and suffering foreign exchange shortfalls, the loss of Gaesong cash may hobble its strategic programs. And the nascent and fragile Seoul-Tokyo-Washington alliance may be strengthened.

But I doubt it.

Negative outcomes look likelier. Seoul-Washington pressure tactics may submerge current strains in Sino-North Korea ties and push Pyongyang and Beijing back into each other's embrace. And while a stronger Seoul-Tokyo alliance is desirable, it only takes (yet another) emotive historical brouhaha to undermine it.

What, then, should be done? The glaringly obvious answer is this. If Seoul and Washington are wielding bigger sticks, they should counterbalance their policy by proffering bigger carrots, too.

Like Pakistan, North Korea is a de facto nuclear power. Refusal to see this defies reality. So does the stubborn belief that we can coerce or persuade Pyongyang to abandon its nukes.

Let us set aside fantasies of full denuclearization of North Korea. Instead, let us place viable options on the table. A North Korea-U.S.peace treaty and acceptance of Pyongyang's existing atomic stockpile, in return for a test moratorium and international oversight, are promising avenues for pragmatic negotiations.

However, with both Washington and Seoul brandishing big sticks, I fear neither will reach for the carrot. With all sides foregoing soft options, and with increasingly polarized, locked-and-loaded alliances eyeballing each other over the peninsula, Korean strategic risks have risen.

Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.