Anti-Americanism or Anti-Baseism: U.S.-South Korea Relations Through Changing Generations
by
Brent (won-ki) Choi
Editor & Researcher
The Joong-ang Daily
Prepared for the Asian Studies Program, School of Foreign Service, Georgetown University's
conference on "Korean Attitudes Toward the United States: The Complexities of an Enduring and
Endured Relationship held in Washington DC, January 30-February 1, 2003
I. Introduction
To Koreans, the public square of Gwanghawmun and City Hall in Seoul are something more than
just a plaza to while away weekend afternoons in. It holds special political significance as the focal
point of the people's struggle against the military regime of the '80s. This is where people gathered
to defy the iron-fisted regime of President Chun Doo Hwan; that defiance gradually led to the
democratization of the country. The site took on new meaning in 2002. As many as a million
Koreans gathered at the heart of their capital to cheer on their national soccer heroes in the World
Cup, tens of thousands converged on the square with lighted candles to cherish the memory of two
schoolgirls who were killed last summer by a U.S. military vehicle in a road accident, and tens of
thousands more celebrated the election of a new president, Roh Moo-hyun. Though all three
gatherings were unprecedented in South Korea in scale, the most troubling was the series of
candlelight protests of the deaths of the two girls.
It is easy to label these protests anti-American. Look and one realizes that the protesters are not
displaying anti-Americanism, but what we might call anti-baseism, which is an anger not toward
America itself but toward the U.S. military bases on the peninsula. It is an expression of the
Koreans' wounded pride, and is perhaps an inevitable stage in South Korea-U.S. relations for a new
century.
One might not notice at first the connection between the World Cup, the death of the schoolgirls
and Roh Moo-hyun's victory, but it is there. South Korea's post-war generation is fully emerging
now, and is asserting itself in society. The new generation already makes up more than three-
quarters of the population and has been demanding a new social order in politics, economics and
Seoul's relationships with its neighbor to the north and the outside world, particularly with the
United States.
This new year marks the 50th anniversary of the South Korea-U.S. mutual defense alliance, and
Seoul and Washington are divided like never before over policy toward North Korea. The strain on
ties is clear, and indicates that it is time the two nations move away from their long-standing policy
of blockading the North in favor of a new strategy--Sinification-- aimed at getting Pyeongyang to
open its doors.
This report will focus on the following three questions regarding South Korea's post-war generation
and the Gwanghwamun protests:
?In what context should we address the protests? If there is an anti-U.S. sentiment within South
Korean society exactly how widespread and deep is it?
?How does the generation shift affect the Seoul-Washington alliance?
?How are we going to align Seoul-Washington relations from here?
II. Anti-Americanism or Anti-Baseism?
As a journalist, finding the right context for a story is never an easy task. Take a look at how
differently Americans and Arabs viewed the Sept. 11 terror attacks in New York and Washington
and you'll see how important context can be. This also applies to the deaths of the two South
Korean schoolgirls. Protests followed immediately after the deaths last June, but did not gain much
intensity until months later, from October to December. Major U.S. media like The New York
Times and some South Korean media defined the rallies as "anti-U.S." If I presume right, the term
was used not because of how well it reflects the reality but because it sounded simple and easy. I
would call the protests "anti-base," and a symptom of seriously wounded national pride. The year
2002 was a time of great pride for South Koreans in general, and especially post-war generation
middle class South Koreans. The financial crisis that plagued them from 1997-98 was finally
behind them, and to add to their self-confidence they watched as their boys of summer marched
proudly into the semifinals of the World Cup. Around a million South Koreans came out to
Gwanghwamun and City Hall to cheer for the national team while watching the game on jumbo
television screens in the square. Their wild chants of "DAE-HAN-MIN-GUK" were broadcast
around the globe by CNN and other worldwide media. There was never a time when the average
Korean felt more proud to simply be Korean.
The accident that claimed the lives of the two girls ended that euphoria in an instant. The girls'
deaths brought sorrow and the old feelings of loss and incompetence crept back. It was a harsh
reminder of how powerless South Korean courts are under the Status of Forces Agreement. Sorrow
quickly gave way to rage. The courts-martial in October that found the driver and commander of
the vehicle not guilty left an already broken-hearted nation very, very angry. In this digital age, the
post-war generation first voiced their outrage online; those Internet chats eventually led to the
candlelight protests.
The situation might be likened to the African-American community's reaction to the rulings in the
Rodney King case over a decade ago in Los Angeles. A massive riot broke out when blacks in Los
Angeles protested the acquittals of the white policemen who were caught on videotape beating
Rodney King after a traffic stop. The reaction of South Koreans to the acquittals of the GIs was
similar, though much milder in nature. After the Rodney King verdict, 55 people were killed, 2,200
injured, 10,000 arrested and nearly $1 billion in property damage was done. Some South Koreans,
after the courts-martial, clashed with riot police, but most who protested just marched through
downtown Seoul with a candle in their hands.
A few lessons became clear to me while observing the major events of 2002 at the Gwanghwamun
plaza. First, anti-baseism among South Koreans may be widespread, but it does not run deep. Most
of the protesters raised their voices against the United States for looking down on Koreans and
refusing to revise the SOFA. Hardly any, however, demanded the withdrawal of U.S. troops, nor
did they demand throwing out the mutual defense treaty; even fewer had any clear ideas on how to
fix the SOFA.
Second, South Koreans are passionate about their dislike of the way they are treated by the U.S.
military stationed on their land. If you had joined one of the rallies, you would have seen how
acutely people feel sorry, not only that the girls died, but that they are unable to have any kind of
say in how the case was handled. Not long ago I wrote an article which basically said the
Americans did all they could to compensate the families for the accident. I was attacked by enraged
netizens who claimed that I wouldn't be so easygoing if those two girls had been my sisters. When I
said passionate, I also meant lacking in logic. If an American serviceman deserves to be tried by a
South Korean court for a traffic accident that occurred while he was performing his job, would that
mean we would allow our own servicemen serving in East Timor to be tried in a local court if they
were involved in a similar accident there? I asked that to one of the protesters, but received no
answer.
Third, there's not much chance of South Koreans' anti-baseism developing into full blown anti-
Americanism. As I recall, most of the protesters gathered at the plaza were armed not with Molotov
cocktails, but Nike shoes, Levi's jeans and winter coats with the logos of various U.S. companies
embroidered on them. But none of them seemed to give that fact a second thought. In fact, the time
South Korea gathered at Gwanghwamun to welcome its 16th president, Roh Moo-hyun, in late
December, they were dancing in the plaza to the Tony Orlando classic "Tie a Yellow Ribbon."
(*the word for yellow in Korean is norang, giving it a sound similar to Roh).
Most of the people there insisted they were not anti-U.S. One man in his 40s who attended the rally
with his children said he was there purely to remember the girls, who died so tragically. Lee Jeong-
hyeon, a South Korean pop singer who joined the crowd too, said she has no hard feelings against
the United States.
Still, I won't deny the presence of radicals among the crowd. Yes, there were those who tried to
take advantage of the anti-baseism, the crowd and the wounded national pride. Looking at the
newspaper photos from a few days ago, one might note pickets reading, "U.S. Army Go Home"
mixed in among the 100,000 or so candles. There have even been reports of groups of thugs
attacking American servicemen. But these do not reflect the mainstream sentiment.
To rate degrees of anti-American sentiment on a scale of 1 to 7, with the insanity of an Osama bin
Laden rating a 7, South Korea currently gets a rating of 1. So far, 100,000 people peacefully
waving candles is the biggest outpouring of anti-U.S. feeling in 50 years.
III. Generational Change and its Effect on Seoul-Washington Ties
The true core of the problem lies not in anti-baseism, but the emergence of a new generation in
Korean society. Looking back, the accident that killed the girls was not the first tragic event of its
kind. According to one research study, about 200-300 crimes have been committed by U.S.
servicemen against Korean civilians each year since 1953. Some cases were far more horrifying
them the recent accident. So why didn't we protest before? Why now? To answer that we should be
reminded of the long-shared interests of the two allies. Seoul and Washington had a common
enemy, common strategy, and common vision. The Korean War (1950-53), as tragic as it was,
tightened the bond between the two countries politically and militarily. For decades, any notion of
anti-U.S. feeling was simply unthinkable to Koreans. In the mid-'70s, when former U.S. President
Jimmy Carter tried to withdraw American troops from South Korea, faulting President Park Chung
Hee's administration for being a dictatorship, President Park was joined by opposition politicians in
protesting the plan. As for common strategy, South Korea also served as a fortress of anti-
communism, keeping the North Koreans, and indirectly the Russians and Chinese, in their box.
Seoul served as a shining example of what could be achieved by adopting an American-style
market economy in Asia. South Koreans were almost blindly devoted to the United States from the
'50s to the '80s. North Korea and Japan were the targets of their hatred. Pro-U.S. sentiment began to
slowly decline in the '80s. The results of the three surveys illustrate the point well. A U.S.
Information Service survey conducted in South Korea in 1965 asked people to name their favorite
country; 68 percent chose America. Less than 1 percent said they did not like the United States.
That was the war generation. Those born after the Korean War began to display their own ideas.
Having no memories of their own of the war, their most striking memory is of the Gwangju
massacre, when government troops brutally suppressed a protest there against the dictatorial regime
of President Chun Doo Hwan. Not only the protesters but innocent passersby -- even pregnant
women -- suffered the dictator's wrath. Most people who came of age at that time, the South
Koreans in their 30s and 40s now, believe the United States silently backed the brutal regime.
While the older generation views the United States through just a single prism -- the blood pledge
of the Korean War -- younger South Koreans reflect more deeply on their ties to America. They
consider the Gwangju movement, the influence of Hollywood, McDonalds, the deaths of the
schoolgirls and a host of other positive and negative factors.
The generation gap is clearest when looking at North Korea. The post-war generation is more
sympathetic to the North Koreans, seeing them as poor, starving compatriots rather than enemies.
South Korean movies prove that point quite well. In the '60s hit movies like "Marine of No Return"
(1963) and "Red Muffler" (1964) featured soldiers who fought bravely and died in the Korean War.
The '70s featured all kinds of anti-Communist movies. "Nambugun" (1990), however, serves as a
careful bridge between the themes of the movies of the old and young generations by focusing on
the emptiness of ideological fights. Films like "Swiri" (1998) and "Joint Security Area" (2000)
express how many young people these days feel about their nation's divided status. Both movies
deal with personal relationships between North and South Koreans. They practically scream, "We
couldn't care less about communism vs. capitalism. Either way Koreans lose their lives. It's human
life that matters most."
But even the post-war generation is divided. They differ in largely in three areas. Some of them,
let's call them Generation A, remember the Gwangju massacre and a vague fantasy about North
Korea. During the '70s and '80s there was even a pro-North Korea club on university campuses in
Seoul. The other half of the post-war generation, Generation B, feels sorry for the North Koreans.
Generation A lacks focus in their policy. Sure, they managed to send some representatives to the
National Assembly, but so far they have failed to differentiate themselves from the old-line
politicians. Generation B, on the other hand, is younger -- the first generation in Korea to grow up
with the Internet at its fingertips. While Generation A was limited in its opportunities to expand, the
newer generation revels in the privilege of the World Wide Web, which links hundreds of
thousands of people through the Internet and mobile phones. Their most noteable political victory
is not the election of a few marginal Assembly members, but propelling a man seen as one of their
own into the Blue House, the center of South Korean political power.
Dec. 19 was more than a political struggle, it was a clash between the war generation and the post-
war generation. Roh's rival, Lee Hoi-chang, who is 68, represented the old generation. He
graduated from the most prestigious high school and university in Korea, served as a Supreme
Court justice and symbolized anti-communist and pro-U.S. values. On a visit to Washington last
January, Lee was greeted by several high-level U.S. officials, including Vice President Dick
Cheney and Secretary of State Colin Powell. Those meetings only intensified the younger
generation's view of him as a representative of the status quo.
Roh, who is just 57, symbolized the post-war generation. He wasn't even considered a contender for
the Millennium Democratic Party presidential nomination. He is a self-educated man. His only
power base outside the party was No-sa-mo, his Internet fan club that promoted him to the online
masses. He has never visited the United States, and that was part of his appeal. He won the hearts
of young voters by promising that he would not kow-tow to Washington.
IV. New Alignment and New Issues for South Korea and the U.S.
The emergence of the younger members of the post-war generation in South Korea, however, is not
likely to affect the existing Korea-U.S. relations in any fundamental way. The post-war generation
grew up watching Hollywood films and eating Big Macs. For example, when I was young, we
likened the sound of a gunshot to ppang-ppang, and expressed bewilderment by saying, "Ai-goo!"
Koreans in their 20s are more likely to choose "bang-bang" and blurt out "Oh, my God!" Another
factor is the number of middle-class people who pour all their energy into sending their children off
to the best schools in the United States. That exposure to U.S. society and values makes it nearly
impossible for South Korea to become truly anti-U.S., knowing how tightly their interests are
entangled with those of America. Furthermore, even though the older generation may have lost this
election, it is far too early to rule them out as a powerful force in society.
But one thing is sure: Roh's victory makes it clear that we can never go back to the unconditional
admiration South Koreans once had for America. There is a Korean saying that many drops
eventually become a downpour. Although anti-baseism is now just low-level frustration with the
relationship between Korea and the U.S. troops stationed there, the trend should not be completely
played down. It could grown into something even nastier for the two Koreas. This danger requires
some adjustments to the style and alignment of the U.S.-South Korea relationship. The two
countries should revise their common goals, common policy, and division of roles when it comes to
North Korea and the presence of U.S. troops on the Korean Peninsula.
?North Korea: From the Brink of Collapse to Sinification
For 50 years Seoul and Washington strove under a common goal to prevent a recurrence of the
Korean War by maintaining U.S. troops on the peninsula as a deterrent. That common enemy kept
the alliance strong, through good times and bad. But North Koreas new reality is inducing the old
ties centered on maintaining status quo of the divided country and break down of the Stalinist
regime to change.
In 1989, South Koreans watched as a divided Germany reunited. In the years that followed, they
saw the inequity and social strife that sudden reunification brought and came to hope for a more
graduated melding of North and South to lessen the shock. Many saw economic unity followed by
peaceful coexistence by inducing the North to open its doors as the best option. South Koreans
came to believe the best way for the peninsula to unify is to help the North take practical economic
and social steps similar to those of China.
Bringing Chinese-style reform to North Korea is well worth considering now that the reclusive
regime has proved itself a total failure by starving to death upwards of 1 million of its people since
the mid-'90s. If the South's old reunification plan, which includes the destruction of the North
Korean regime, is carried out, South Korea will face astronomical economic, political, and social
costs. According to estimates by Goldman Sachs, a sudden reunification like that of Germany
would cost South Korea $3.55 trillion. Thats no small sum for any nation. Fortunately, Pyeongyang
has been showing some keen interest in opening its doors on their own. A decade ago they opened
the North's first free-trade zone in the Rajin-Sonbong, which has failed probably because of a lack
of true resolve on the part of North Korean authorities to make it "free." But recently they have
announced plans for a host of future-oriented attempts at the same concept. The plan to name
Chinese-Dutch tycoon Yang Bin to head the Sinuiju special administrative region, aimed at making
the place a second Hong Kong, was especially eye catching. The North also seems enthusiastic
about the linking of inter-Korean railroads, and in the more distant future roads and seaways.
However slowly, and despite the frequent stops and starts, the North is changing. It is time the U.S.
and South Korean allies sat down and mapped out a plan to open up the North a la China, while at
the same time keeping a check on Pyeongyang's arms.
?Return of the Perry Process
The United States has so far offered three basic North Korea policies: 1) A Cold-War era military
deterrence policy 2) A Clintonian engagement policy and 3) The moderate policy known as the
Perry Process. In contrast, South Korea is in a transitional stage from the hard-line confrontational
policy to President Kim Dae-jung's "sunshine policy." Political conflict is unavoidable if this
continues, which is precisely why a return to the Perry Process is needed. The plan, named for the
man who hatched it, former Secretary of Defense William Perry, was endorsed by both
Republicans and Democrats in 1998. It is also important that South Korea sit in the driver's seat,
with the United States right beside it, in developing the principles of North Korea policy.
? USFK Issue
US authorities have been careful not to mix the issue of U.S. troops on the peninsula with their
North Korea policy. They have insisted that the arrangement be dealt with strictly between the two
allies. While this makes sense legally, it doesn't work that way in actual practice. Its about time we
seriously review the mid- to long-term goals and functions of the American troop presence on the
peninsula based on changes in inter-Korean relations and the possible reduction of the North
Korean threat. Why don't South Korea and the United States offer to reduce the number of and pull
back some of their troops stationed along the DMZ in return for North Korea doing the same and
giving up its weapons of mass destruction? That could significantly reduce anti-U.S. sentiment in
the South as well as improve cooperation among the two allies. The two nations might also
consider turning over command of their combined forces to the South Korean military.
?Reducing Anti-Baseism
The first step is for Seoul and the USFK to get on with rearranging the roughly 100 U.S.
installations scattered throughout the peninsula to allow Korean city planners to use land that they
don't need. The two sides should re-check whether it is wise to maintain the U.S. 8th Army's
Yongsan Garrison in Seoul from both a political and strategic standpoint. Yongsan is significant for
several reasons. From an emotional point of view, many Koreans remember that Japan's military
also used the area as a base when it colonized Korea. Also, it has become too open and too known
to outsiders. The area was on the outskirts of Seoul when the 8th Army set up there. It is now part
of the busy downtown of one of the world's largest capitals. Moving the USFK headquarters out of
Seoul would be an important symbolic gesture. To top it off, Yongsan is also within range of North
Korea's field guns.
There is also a problem of communication between the USFK and the Korean public. As a
journalist, one thing I noted during the recent protests was an almost complete lack of
communication between the U.S. military and the public coupled with a lot of bad timing. Unlike
the U.S. Embassy in Seoul, the military there, after half a century of operating in the country still
lacks effective channels for promotion and disseminating its version of events. That leads to a
widespread feeling that the U.S. military in Korea is indifferent to how its presence effects the
Korean people. I have experienced this personally. For past three years I formally requested an
interview with thecommander of U.S. Forces Korea. I'm still waiting for a reply.
?Success Story: Jeffrey D. Jones
Things may not be as bad as they seem. Once Americans try to understand the workings of the
Korean mind, these problems could melt away faster than imagined. The change in Korean
perceptions of the American Chamber of Commerce in Korea is a wonderful example. For decades,
AMCHAM was widely perceived as an unofficial Washington envoy sent to put economic and
diplomatic pressure on Seoul. It symbolized U.S. power and arrogance and it was not unusual to
hear of Molotov cocktails being thrown through its windows. The arrival of a new president of the
chamber, Jeffrey D. Jones, in 1998 almost completely erased that negative image in about three
years. Mr. Jones's secret was his understanding of how Koreans think and his fluent Korean, thanks
to his earlier experience as a Mormon missionary there.
His other strength was his constant interaction with the South Korean media. He was the face and
voice of AMCHAM, hosting seminars, appearing on television, and making numerous
contributions to newspaper columns. His appearances on local television talk shows especially
helped narrow the emotional gap. He also offered his advice on a range of issues. He lent his
opinions to the Ministry of Commerce, Industry and Energy on a policy for small and midsize
companies and a number of investment policies. AMCHAM is now seen as a friendly foreign
partner, despite the hard fact that little has changed in its actual function. The case offers much
room to reflect upon. It is really a shame that after 50 years of partnership we have failed to
produce a Jeffrey Jones to bridge the gaps between South Koreans and U.S. troops.
V. Conclusion
So the big question is: How to define the alliance? I believe there are few differences in
relationships between nations and relationships between people. Allies could be defined simply as
friends, and that is what South Korea and the United States have been. Friendship isn't perfect.
Friends don't always get along, and the relationship is not one-sided either. Friends might agree 80
percent of the time, but disagree the other 20 percent. But they are still friends.
The friendship between South Korea and the United States, unfortunately, has not been a normal
one. South Koreans have been free from the outset to support the United States, but they were
rarely allowed to criticize it. While that was the choice made by South Korean leaders, not
Americans, it is still part of the relationship. With that in mind, perhaps the protests we've seen
lately were an inevitable step for South Korea to make its friendship with the United States normal.
The new generation in South Korea does not want to be protected, it wants a friend with whom it
can walk side-by-side.
There is a Korean saying that the Earth hardens after a rain. Consider the candlelight protests a rain.
And now the Earth, the basis of our relationship, can be solidified.
Source: by email from author