There are three problems with the six-party
talks on North Korea's nuclear issue. First, they risk
confusing form with substance: as if merely getting
North Korea around a table is success in itself, whether
or not real progress is made on the issues. Second,
relatedly, there is a tendency - as suspect in diplomacy
as in stocks or currencies - to talk the talks up; as in
assurances all summer that regular diatribes from
Pyongyang didn't actually mean "no", so the September 30
deadline set last time for a fourth round could still be
met. The third problem is that it wasn't. Talks are
better than no talks, and with the US election weeks
away, it now looks unlikely that there will be any until
2005, when we know who'll be in the White House till
2008. Roh Moo-hyun says there is no need "to rush
things"; Kim Jong-il would no doubt agree.
What
clinched North Korean resistance, of course, was South
Korea's nuclear own goal. Revelations of at least two
unauthorized experiments, in 1982 and 2000, gave
Pyongyang an excuse that it predictably seized to accuse
the US of double standards. But the ripples may yet
spread wider. Seoul's account - this was just
unauthorized scientists messing about in the lab - does
not wholly convince. Significantly, the 1982 news leaked
from Washington after the International Atomic Energy
Agency's new intrusive procedures uncovered the 2000
incident. Remarks (later denied) by former president Kim
Young-sam (1993-98) implied the Seoul government might
have known. South Korea began a covert bid to build the
bomb under Park Chung-hee (1961-79), which the United
States squashed.
Yet knowledge does not go away;
especially given a vast civil nuclear program that
generates 40% of the Republic of Korea's (ROK) electric
power, and whose vested interests have long urged Seoul
to emulate Japan and close its fuel cycle by
reprocessing plutonium from spent fuel. Such voices may
now be muted. The IAEA, whose inspectors left Seoul
Sunday, will have to be seen to probe hard. At the very
least, ROK nuclear oversight looks as lax as its finance
pre-1997. But the logic of the more independent defense
that Roh seeks may fuel old fears that, even as an
Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development
(OECD) member, South Korea still can't be trusted to
play by the global rules. (A respected Chosun Ilbo
commentator mainly thought it unfair that Seoul got
caught.)
Seoul also took a knock from the
mushroom cloud mystery that caused brief panic
mid-month. It was duff ROK satellites (or analysts) that
raised the alarm, over what they now say may simply have
been an odd but natural cloud. The same day The New York
Times had one of its regular DC hawk leaks, warning that
North Korea may test a bomb. So, 2+2 made 5; yet there
was no seismic or radiation evidence, and a nuclear test
so near China's border made no sense. Pyongyang crowed
again, claiming it merely blew up a mountain (as you do)
for a hydro-power project that foreign diplomats were
duly shown. Trouble is, this was 100 kilometers east of
the cloud. Amid rumors that the US was slow to share its
own spy pics, Roh's recent trip to Moscow saw reports
that Seoul may seek a deal for new satellites from
Russia.
Latest on the inscrutable signs front
are reports that North Korea may be preparing a missile
test. If this were something big - a Nodong or Taepodong
- this would breach a moratorium on testing made several
times by the Dear Leader, implying his promises are not
worth the paper they are rarely written on. It would
also rile Japan, which on Sunday ended its latest talks
on kidnapping of Japanese civilians with no progress -
and threatened sanctions if North Korea is not more
sincere. For its part, the North Korea party paper
Rodong Shinmun last week threatened to "turn Japan into
a nuclear sea of fire" if the US starts a war. Seoul as
usual tried to cool it, saying the signs may just be
routine exercises. But on Sunday US Pacific Air Forces
commander General Paul Hester said North Korean missiles
are a "great concern" and could see "remarkable
breakthroughs" in both quantity and precision guidance.
Meanwhile declassified US papers show that Pyongyang
sought a cool $3 billion from former US President Bill
Clinton just to stop missile sales, while refusing to
halt work on development and deployment. This was the
deal the incoming Bush rejected. If reelected he will be
no more amenable - especially if Colin Powell, whose
insistence finally saw the US put forward a detailed
nuclear offer at the last six-way talks, is no longer
secretary of state.
Finally, there is yet more
egg on Seoul's face regarding another oft-neglected
corner of North Korea's arsenal of nasties. The ROK
Ministry of Commerce, Industry, and Energy confirmed
last Friday that 107 tons of sodium cyanide (which can
be used to make nerve gas) that an ROK firm illicitly
exported to China last year ended up in the North.
Earlier, Seoul had managed to stop a similar reshipment
from Thailand. While it pledged to tighten controls,
simultaneously the ROK is pressing the US to relax the
Wassenaar Arrangement, which restricts high-technology
and dual-use exports to communist and pariah states, for
the Kaesong Industrial Zone (KIZ) project. The KIZ
presses on, despite North Korea's boycott since July of
most inter-Korean contact; the first pilot phase is due
to start in November and a cross-border shuttle bus now
runs from Seoul. Such are the contradictions in the
South's "Sunshine" policy toward the North.
Aidan Foster-Carter is honorary senior
research fellow in sociology and modern Korea at Leeds
University, England. He can be contacted at afostercarter@aol.com. This article
was originally commissioned by Enterprise LSE for Asian
Regional Markets, a daily report published by IDEA
Global. For more information on IDEA global research
services, please visit www.ideaglobal.com .
