24-09-2021

FRidAY, SEPtEMbER 24, 2021
5
Thomas Chan onAs the March 2022
presidential election approaches in
South Korea, the candidates of both
ruling and opposing parties are
competing over their platforms on
various hot-button issues and
promoting their prospects as the
country's next president.
One of the biggest questions that the
South Korean public has for these
candidates concerns the shape of their
foreign policy. South Korea's position in
Northeast Asia has experienced
turbulence in the past two years. For
example, North Korea destroyed the
Joint Liaison Office in Panmunjom in
June 2020 and terminated the inter-
Korean communication line. In
addition, South Korea's disputes with
Japan over economic sanctions and
historical narratives on the war crimes
committed during World War II have
complicated cooperation between Seoul
and Tokyo. The COVID-19 pandemic
has also created a stalemate in regional
diplomacy and inter-state economic
exchanges. Thus, the South Korean
public will want the next president to
develop a breakthrough that can resolve
the hardships and uncertainties
currently surrounding the Korean
Peninsula.
However, a recent poll highlighted a
major paradigm shift in the trend of
South Korean public perception toward
surrounding states, which may affect
the presidential candidates' foreign
policy pledges. According to the poll by
Hankook Research and South Korean
online newspaper SisaIn, the South
Korean public was least favorable
toward of China; even North Korea and
Japan were viewed more positively.
The participants were asked to give a
favorability score to four countries -
China, Japan, North Korea, and the
United States - on a scale between 0 and
100. South Koreans gave the most
negative rating to China with an average
of 26.4, lower than North Korea at 28.6
and Japan at 28.8. The United States
had the most favorable rating at 57.3.
Furthermore, to the question of whether
participants thought a particular
country is "good" or "evil," 58.1 percent
labeled China as evil, whereas only 4.5
percent said it was good.
Anti-China sentiment in South
Korea's presidential race
Protesters tear a Chinese national flag during a rally to oppose a planned visit by Chinese Foreign
Minister Wang Yi.
Photo: Ahn Young-joon
The increasing anti-China sentiment
in South Korea is a remarkable trend for
Seoul's foreign policy. Previously, South
Korean public opinion focused on North
Korea and Japan as the country's top
potential threats. The same poll in late
2019 showed that Japan was the least
favorably viewed country among South
Koreans, with 21.0 favorability, while
China rated 35.6. Although there were
issues such as historical disputes
centered on the former Korean
kingdom Goguryeo and illegal Chinese
fishing in South Korean waters, the
hatred for China was relatively weak
compared to concerns over the North
Korean nuclear program and the rise of
the far-right movement in Japan.
In the past, China was mainly
perceived as a trade partner because of
its significant position in South Korea's
economy: China receives about a
quarter of South Korea's total exports.
Thus, the Moon administration
implemented strategic ambiguity as a
major foreign policy amid accelerating
China-U.S. competition. While
maintaining security engagement with
the United States, President Moon Jaein
also attempted to reduce liability risk
by staying ambivalent and siding
neither with Washington nor Beijing
over critical issues that may be sensitive
to the economic and diplomatic
relations with China. These issues
include the democratic movement in
Hong Kong, questions over the Taiwan
Strait, and human rights issues in
Xinjiang. Through these obscure
hedging policies, South Korea was able
to sustain its economic interests, even if
the rise of China provoked security
concerns in the Asia-Pacific region.
But the recent anti-China sentiment
implies that South Korea is standing at a
crossroads in its foreign policy. The next
administration will either follow public
opinion and implement a hardline
policy against China or continue with its
strategic ambiguity, despite the risk of
public disapproval. The ruling
Democratic Party of Korea (DPK),
representing the liberal and
nationalistic camps, follows the Moon
administration's foreign policy, and
appreciates amicable relations with
North Korea and China. On the other
hand, the opposition People Power
Party (PPP), a conservative camp,
emphasizes South Korea's relationship
with the United States and aims to
strengthen security against the
increasing North Korean nuclear threat.
Thus, it is more likely that the
opposition party will promote anti-
China rhetoric as a major foreign policy
idea.
The differences between the two
parties were made obvious in the
statements from their most popular
candidates. Lee Jae-myung, governor of
Gyeonggi province and the leading
presidential candidate for the DPK, is
considered to be a pro-China figure. In
2017, Lee pledged to oust the Terminal
High-Altitude Area Defense (THAAD)
missile defense system during an
interview with CCTV, a Chinese staterun
television channel, claiming that its
deployment damages South Korea's
national interests. Lee also recently
promised to inherit Moon's foreign
policy of strategic ambiguity if he ever
becomes president.
"The United States is our sole ally, and
we also have strategic cooperation with
China. There is no reason why we must
lean on one side to limit the relations
with another," said Lee. "It is wiser
diplomacy to induce the U.S. and China
to compete to cooperate with us."
By contrast, Yoon Seok-youl, former
public prosecutor general and the
leading presidential candidate for the
PPP, has revealed his antipathy toward
China. Although Yoon spent most of his
career as a prosecutor and has less
experience in politics, he criticized the
Moon administration's preventive
measures during the COVID-19
pandemic, arguing that the government
should have restricted arrivals from
China upon the initial outbreak of the
disease. Yoon even referred to COVID-
19 as the "Wuhan virus," a term that is
often seen as a racist dog-whistle.
"Since January last year, the Korea
Medical Association and medical
experts have demanded strong control
over the arrivals from China. It is a
feasible request if we approach the virus
scientifically," said Yoon. "If they did
not follow the science, then there must
have been a political consideration."
The different stance between the two
candidates indicates that the South
Korean public's anti-China sentiment
may become a factor in determining the
next South Korean president. It is
therefore necessary to analyze how the
backlash against China suddenly started
to escalate in South Korea and the
potential scenarios that may emerge
between now and March 2022.
Anti-China sentiment in South Korea
has been reinforced by four major
events: the THAAD deployment in
2017, Beijing's response to the prodemocracy
movement in Hong Kong in
2019, the COVID-19 pandemic in early
2020, and China's attempts at "cultural
imperialism" in late 2020.
The THAAD deployment in South
Korea in February 2017 first sparked
friction between Seoul and Beijing. Due
to North Korea's increasing nuclear
provocations in 2016, including
Pyongyang's fourth and fifth nuclear
test, then-president Park Geun-hye
decided to deploy the U.S. missile
defense system to detect and destroy
any North Korean missile attacks
targeting the South. However, the
deployment aroused a harsh reaction
from Beijing, which sees THAAD as a
threat that undermines China's security
and missile weapons systems. Although
the South Korean government
explained the purpose of the
deployment as self-defense against
North Korean missile threats, China
took assertive action against South
Korea.
Qiu Guohong, then the Chinese
ambassador to South Korea, said the
THAAD deployment could "break up"
South Korea's relationship with China.
There were even statements that evoked
the tributary system of the premodern
era. "Can a small country resist against a
big country?" said Chen Hai, then-vice
minister of foreign affairs, during his
meeting with South Korean companies.
"If your government deploys THAAD,
we will torment you with severed ties."
Under Taliban rule calm
chaos prevails in Kabul
AGNiESzkA PikuliCkA-WilCzEWSkA
A bearded young man stares
at a foreign passport,
searching for a visa to the now
obsolete Islamic Republic of
Afghanistan. A white flag
bearing the shahada, the
Islamic oath, flutters over the
border crossing in Hairatan,
which from August 15 has
marked the northern frontier
of the new Islamic Emirate.
The man puts a stamp on
the first page of the passport,
the one that should remain
blank. He doesn't know how
to scan the traveler's bag so he
opens it and meticulously
goes through its contents. He
makes up for his lack of
experience with a smile and
wishes the travelers a good
trip in broken English.
Calm chaos are the best
words to describe the
situation in Afghanistan one
month after the Taliban
takeover.
The withdrawal of foreign
forces, a hasty evacuation of
foreigners and thousands of
Afghans fleeing to safety after
the fall of Kabul was followed
by procedural chaos and
nationwide confusion. No one
knows how harsh the new
rulers will be. But everyone
knows that the old days of
relatively relaxed social and
political relations are gone.
With the chaos, however
paradoxically, also came
order. For many years it was
impossible to cross the
country by land. Taliban
checkpoints in places outside
of the government's control
were potentially dangerous
and road crime was common.
Now, crossing the country has
become easier than ever.
The distance between
Hairatan and Kabul is 450
kilometers, but passing over
the old, poorly maintained
roads, the journey can take
more than 10 hours. Drivers
now make sure to switch off
the music before they
approach the few Taliban
checkpoints on the way. As
one Taliban commander said,
music does not have to be
officially banned. People
already know it's a sin.
Most checkpoints can be
passed with relative ease.
Although the Taliban are not
present on all the roads in the
country, traveling has become
much safer. People know that
despite the absence of clear
new rules, the punishment for
any wrongdoing will be
harsh.t
But as Alamamed Amiri, 26,
a traffic policeman in central
Kabul, tells me, the police are
no longer allowed to give
fines, which, he argues, the
Taliban deem haram,
forbidden by Islam. Unlike
many other policemen in the
country, he decided to
continue working under the
new government. The Taliban
promised not to take revenge
against the traffic police for
serving Kabul's former
government.
While the new government
has promised a national
renewal in the spirit of Islam,
it needs the institutional
memory, procedures, and
staff of the former republic to
run the country. Many
administrative employees
have decided to stay in their
positions and continue
serving under the new rulers.
Without them, the whole
state system would fall into
disarray. Watching city life
from the streets can provide
important insights into the
changes within Afghan
society. "The streets are less
crowded and nothing is
functioning properly," Amiri
says. "The elites are gone but
average people have stayed.
The streets are safer. People
are afraid of the Taliban.
There are much less women
outside too."
While official rules on
female garments are still
unclear, women know what
the return of the Taliban
A poster of now former President Ashraf Ghani, ripped.
Photo: Agnieszka Pikulicka-Wilczewska
means for them. Despite the
resistance by social media
activists who have been
posting pictures in traditional
Afghan dresses bearing the
hashtag
#donttouchmyclothes, street
fashion reflects fear rather
than rebellion. Faced with the
unknown, many women
choose to stay at home.
Others are hastily updating
their closets. Hamida Karimi,
a 28-year old dentist, walks
around one of the shopping
malls in central Kabul, her
beautiful, self-assured face
contrasted with the black,
shapeless abaya and
burgundy hijab she is
wearing. She looks for
conservative outfits that
would fit the new unwritten
rules, though she shops
without much enthusiasm.
"I've always worn shorter
clothes, not longer than above
the knee. It was comfortable
and I could walk in the streets
on my own, even in the
evening. Now I only travel by
taxi. I've heard that I could be
attacked or insulted so I have
to buy new clothes. It's never
happened to me but I've heard
such stories," Karimi says.
"I used to study German but
I have recently quit the course
because co-education is no
longer allowed. I could attend
a group with women only but
we're all scared. I now study
online."
Karimi decided to continue
working, however, as she did
not want to abandon her
patients. But work has
changed, too. She can no
longer run the clinic together
with her male business
partner and only accepts
female patients. She was not
forced to make this move - she
did that, she says, for her own
security.
"There have been no good
changes in the past month.
The banks are closed, local
administration and
ministries too. We don't
know who are the people in
the interim government.
Children are afraid to go to
school and are scared of the
men with weapons. I cannot
sleep at night because of
nightmares."
VAlERiE NiquEt1
Two weeks ago, France and
Australia inaugurated their
first 2+2 ministerial
dialogue. This strategic
partnership was based on a
common analysis of the
dangers weighing on the
Indo-Pacific with an
increasingly aggressive
China in the maritime
domain. This shared vision,
which reflects France's
commitment in Asia, had
been developed since 2016
around the supply of 12
French conventional
submarines to Australia - at
the time, the Australians
rejected any idea of nuclear
propulsion - but went far
beyond that sole industrial
interest.
In 2018, it was in Australia
that French President
Emmanuel Macron gave a
decisive impetus to the
French Indo-Pacific strategy
in a famous Garden Island
speech where he defined an
"Indo-Pacific axis" formed
by France, India, and
Australia to counterbalance
Chinese hegemonic
ambitions. This Indo-Pacific
vision was inclusive and
cooperative, seeking to bring
together middle powers
worried by the unilateralism
of the Trump administration
then in power in the United
States. At that time,
Canberra itself was reluctant
to get too deeply involved in
the Quad, the Quadrilateral
Security Dialogue, bringing
together Australia, India,
Japan, and the U.S.
As soon as it was signed,
the Franco-Australian
submarine contract came
under attack. Yet, for all
those parties - notably the
United States and Quad
members, but also
Southeast Asian countries -
who want to see the
European Union and France
assume
greater
responsibilities in the
regional security of an area
vital to all, this contract was
an assurance of French
Indo-Pacific commitment.
Defense Ministers Jean-
Yves Le Drian and Florence
Parly, who participated in all
Shangri-la strategic
dialogues since 2012, have
been at the forefront of those
who defend freedom of
navigation, respect for the
rule of law, and
multilateralism, values
constantly put forward by
French President Emmanuel Macron, right, and Australia's Prime
Minister Scott Morrison greet during a joint press conference.
Photo: Rafael Yaghobzadeh
AUKUS and submarines:
the fallout for France
Washington and its allies,
including Japan. France was
the driving force behind the
definition of a European
Union strategy for the Indo-
Pacific - the publication of
which, by an unfortunate
coincidence, came the day
after Australia announced
that it was abandoning the
French submarine contract.
Some see Canberra's
decision as a welcome reemergence
of an alliance
between the traditional
maritime powers of the
United States, Australia, and
the United Kingdom, in a
nostalgic return to the past.
Things have changed,
however. The Afghan fiasco
has shown the limits of U.S.
commitment and its
effectiveness, despite
considerable resources.
London, for its part, is
desperately trying to find a
new place on the
international stage after
Brexit by relying on the
concept of "Global Britain."
One may wonder, however,
about the reality of British
capacities to project forces
and capacities in the Indo-
Pacific while the country is
facing post-Brexit economic
cost and tensions in its own
territory. And contrary to
what Joe Biden may think,
today the U.K. is no longer
Europe.
By comparison, France
has permanent political and
military assets in the Indian
Ocean and the South Pacific.
In recent years, the level of
activity of its navy has been
important, supplemented by
regular naval deployments,
including the Charles de
Gaulle, and the organization
of exercises with the Quad
navies. These maritime
capabilities are far from
negligible in a region
marked by tensions over
maritime borders, piracy,
illegal fishing, and frequent
natural disasters.
As far as Australia is
concerned, it is
understandable that
Canberra wants to acquire
more powerful capacities to
confront China, but within
what timeframe and at what
cost? It is not certain that the
question of nuclear fuel for
the submarines promised by
the Americans can be easily
resolved, since Australia
itself does not produce it.
Moreover, this nuclear
dimension does not seem to
be appreciated by its close
neighbors, New Zealand,
Indonesia and the Pacific
island states, which are very
sensitive to these issues. The
U.S. Senate itself could
oppose the transfer of
technology.
What is more, the
announcement was
surprising in its brutality
and its apparent lack of
consultation. One wonders
about the meaning of the
message heedlessly sent to
France. Is it a warning to a
country that constantly
emphasizes the need for
Europe to think about its
own interests and defense?
Are Washington and its new
"favorite" allies aware of the
message sent to China,
which may be worried about
this coalition but will be
quick to point out and
exploit tensions and
differences between
Washington and its
partners? Without doubt, it
will become more difficult
for those who defend an
alliance of democracies
against China to collaborate
with a U.S. administration
whose methods are abrupt,
including with regard to its
own camp. These
maneuvers could also
nourish the debate about the
assurance of all U.S.
engagements.