Daggers
drawn over a dot on the map
By Donald Kirk
SEOUL - Call it the East Sea or the Sea of Japan. The name game in the waters
between the Korean Peninsula and Japan show how deep are the differences
between the two historic antagonists, and nothing symbolizes the conflict more
sharply than a cluster of rocky islets midway between them.
Just as Koreans recoil at commonplace references on international maps to "the
Sea of Japan", so they call these islets "Tokdo", literally "solitary island",
to the consternation of the Japanese, who insist they're "Takeshima", "bamboo
island".
Whatever they're called, the islands, actually a cluster of 34 islets, each of
them no more than an outcropping of volcanic rock, have become a flash point
that pits Korean and Japanese forces
against each other in an exercise in macho muscle-flexing that threatens to
undermine the delicate diplomatic standoff in the region.
South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun, anxious to distract attention from
controversy over his efforts at reconciliation with
North Korea, talked tough on Thursday after ordering a flotilla of 18 patrol
boats to fend off survey ships that Japan says it's sending to chart the waters
around the islands.
Talking to Christian leaders at a prayer breakfast, he charged that "some
people" were "claiming territorial rights to former colonies that were once
acquired through a war of aggression".
The reference to the Japanese conquest of much of the region, including Korea,
appealed to the deepest sensitivities of Koreans, young and old, over placing
the Korean Peninsula under harsh colonial rule for 35 years until the Japanese
surrender on August 15, 1945.
While Roh's foreign minister, Ban Ki Moon, summoned the Japanese ambassador,
the president gave the impression publicly that diplomacy may not be the final
answer. "We are now in a difficult situation," he reminded his audience, in
language that might seem more appropriate for actual armed attack rather than a
mission by a survey vessel. "Problems cannot be solved just by goodwill and we
need wisdom and courage."
If the tone seemed strong, however, the reality on the scene was quite
different.
The first fact is that South Korea controls the islets, garrisoned by South
Korean troops, as frequently shown in images on television of flak-jacketed men
holding machine guns and anti-aircraft weapons behind fortifications on the
biggest of them.
The second fact is that Japan, for all its claims to the islets, has shown no
sign of preparing an armed attack to tear them away. Japan, however, does have
a couple of survey vessels waiting for orders to sail off on their mission,
challenging Korean patrol boats ranged in what the Koreans say are Korean
waters.
Graphics on television and in the newspapers here have shown what could be the
worst result of the whole fracas - a blockade by the patrol boats that would
stop the survey vessels dead in the water.
"There is a possibility of a physical clash," said a foreign ministry
spokesman, but the worst clash one could envision was that of a deliberate
collision in which Korean patrol boats bumped into the Japanese survey ships.
The notion that anyone might fire a shot at this stage appears basically
unthinkable.
But then, who would have thought the standoff could ever have gone this far?
"I remember when this first came up a couple of years ago," said David Kang, a
professor in the Asia-Pacific Research Center at Stanford University. "It's so
stupid, but it keeps getting worse."
If nothing else, however, the fracas unites North and South Korea in common
cause. North Korea has shown unqualified support for South Korea's position,
denouncing the Japanese claim to the islets - and Japan's insistence on sending
out the survey ships - as a "shameless" effort at old-style territorial
expansion.
"Both North and South Korea have a very clear win-win here," said Kang, but he
doubted if the episode would do much to speed up the process of reconciliation
between the two Koreas. "It's a distraction. It doesn't change the
relationship."
The stand-off, however, is definitely upsetting to American diplomats, who have
been trying publicly to stay aloof while privately encouraging both Japan and
South Korea to put the whole thing behind them.
Ban, having promised "stern action" in a briefing on Wednesday, preferred
Thursday to hold out an olive branch in his meeting with Japan's ambassador to
Korea, Shotaro Oshima.
The foreign minister said South Korea would go into talks with Japan if only
Tokyo would keep the survey ships in port. "Immediately withdraw the plan and
resolve the issue diplomatically," was how he characterized his advice to
Oshima.
The Japanese, however, also seemed to have a point to prove. No, they weren't
about to stage anything that might be remotely characterized as a "pre-emptive
strike", but they did not seem in the mood to order the survey ships turn tail
back to port.
Japanese spokesman Shinzo Abe spoke somberly of Japanese rights. "Preparations
are proceeding to conduct the survey based on international law." Meanwhile, he
went on, "it is necessary to respond calmly and to reach a peaceful solution."
In the end, however, the whole exercise seemed likely to come down to another
name game. The Japanese appear anxious to identify underwater rock formations
and then to give them names - Japanese names, of course.
The Japanese could hardly have dreamed up a more horrifying way of thoroughly
annoying the Koreans.
"We will never consider suspending our efforts for international certification
of Korean names for 18 undersea features in the East Sea," said Song Min Soon,
national security adviser to Roh. "The naming issue cannot be linked to Japan's
waterway survey scheme."
Song got down to basics.
"We don't need a complicated argument," he said. "Simply speaking, we'll never
permit Japan's maritime survey out of our steadfast determination to protect
our territorial islets and waters."
Journalist Donald Kirk has been in and out of Korea since 1972.