Territorial squabbles are nothing new in Asia, but few are as bizarre as the dispute between South Korea and China over the land of Koguryo.
In South Korea, there have been demands for economic sanctions against China and a boycott of its goods. Internet activists have set up “Defend Koguryo” websites.
Newspapers speak of the worst falling out between the countries in 12 years — over a place that does not exist. The bitter disagreement is not about any contemporary borders or strategic territory, but about the historical ownership of a state that ceased to exist more than 1,300 years ago.
The ancient Koguryo kingdom was defeated by its neighbours in 668AD, but yesterday in Seoul, South Korean diplomats pleaded with China’s visiting deputy foreign minister, Wu Dawei, to renounce Beijing’s suggestion that Koguryo was a Chinese territory.
“Beijing’s obliteration of Korea’s history . . . is an infantile action,” the Korea Herald protested in a recent editorial. “The Chinese authorities must find no room to engage in such useless and counterproductive activities.”
Established in 37AD, in what is now northern Korea and southern Manchuria, the Koguryo period is regarded by Koreans as a golden age. Its founding monarch, Chumong, was an archer and horseman with the apparent gift of walking on water. Its greatest king, Kwanggaeto, established the present North Korean capital, Pyongyang.
It produced distinguished scholars and Buddhist divines and its royal tombs, painted with exquisite murals, have been recognised as World Heritage Sites. The modern name of Korea ultimately derives from Koguryo.
Despite the fact that the northern part of the old kingdom is now China, it was universally acknowledged as a Korean civilisation. But last year disquieting references to Koguryo began appearing in China’s state-run media. It was described as being a part of China. It was reported that a group of Chinese scholars had established a “north-east Asia Project” to come up with proof, and there was little doubt that these moves had official approval from Beijing.
A precise European equivalent of Korea’s outrage is hard to find, but it is rather as if Camelot was suddenly claimed by the Germans.
Seoul-based chatrooms are abuzz with discussion about what such retaliatory steps might involve, from a nationwide “Hands off, Koguryo!” T-shirt campaign to propaganda films. A South Korean TV station has announced plans for a 100-part soap opera set in the Koguryo period.
In this frenzied atmosphere, seemingly harmless developments have taken on a sinister aspect to South Koreans. When it was noticed that China had removed references to Korea’s ancient history from its official websites, South Korean newspapers insisted this was a deliberate provocation.
Why such passion and insecurity over a country that no longer exists? From Seoul’s point of view, a little paranoia is understandable. Throughout its history, the Korean peninsula has been fought over and passed between the great powers that surround it — Japan, Russia and China.
The dream of South Koreans is reunification with their alienated brothers in the North and any suggestion of this being compromised by Chinese expansionism fills both nations with dread.
“China wants to lay the ground for claiming part of the North Korea bordering China,” said Kim Sung Ho, a South Korean MP, after returning from discussions in the North. “This is in case a civil war or other turmoil breaks out in the process of the unification of the peninsula.”
Some South Koreans think that their Government has not taken a firm enough line against China but the truth is that, in the long run, Seoul has no choice but to get on with Beijing.
Last year, China overtook the US to become South Korea’s largest trading partner and export market; this year alone, trading volume has increased by 55 per cent. As long as South Korea needs China so much, ancient history will take second place.