Growing economic ties and a new interest in cultural exchanges are bringing the countries of Northeast Asia closer together. Yet wounds from past wrongs -- committed in times of colonialism, war, and dictatorship -- are not fully healed. All nations have some sense of victimization -- Japan vis-à-vis the United States and Russia, and China and Korea vis-à-vis Japan -- and often blame others, rather than taking responsibility.

As with many other cases around the world, reconciliation between countries in the region first occurred between governments. Japan established diplomatic rapprochement with countries it had once invaded or colonized: with the Republic of China in 1952, with the Republic of Korea in 1965, and with the People's Republic of China in 1972.

Yet Northeast Asian nations have failed to come to terms with the past. Japan paid no reparations to its former colonies -- though it gave "grants and aid" to South Korea for normalizing their relations -- and China and Korea were excluded from the

San Francisco Treaty that settled Japanese war crimes and atrocities. Historical issues such as disputed territories and Japan's colonial rule were largely swept under the rug in the Cold War system.

The failure to address historical injustice and to reconcile differing views of the past has strained Sino-Japanese relations and friction between Japan and South Korea over Japan's colonial past remains intense. Even South Korea and China are sparring over the history of the ancient kingdom of Goguryeo. In addition, Taiwan is immersed in a reexamination of the past. The history question touches upon the most sensitive issues of national identity and now fuels the fires of nationalism in Northeast Asia.

In Korea, nationalism has offered a framework for dealing with victims of historical injustice such as the comfort women and forced laborers. It forces issues to be framed in binary opposition -- victims vs. aggressors -- and leaves little room for any alternative. Koreans are reluctant to acknowledge their atrocities during the Vietnam War, but readily criticize similar acts committed by the U.S. during the Korean War. Disputes over the kingdom of Goguryeo reflect lingering irredentist Korean nationalism as well as China's rising nationalism.

In Japan, uncertainties and anxieties created by the post-Cold War security environment and a decade of economic stagnation provided a fertile ground for nationalist politics. Nationalist scholars are making headway in producing textbooks to "make Japanese proud of themselves." Increased official use of such symbols as the flag and the national anthem used by imperial Japan are part of Japan's quest to become a "normal nation." The goodwill generated by Prime Minister Abe's visit to China and South Korea soon after taking office, suggesting a conciliatory policy toward Asia, has been undermined by his recent remarks on the comfort woman issue. If there is any difference between Korea and Japan, it is that the left in Korea -- as opposed to the right in Japan -- is at the forefront of nationalist politics.

China is promoting nationalism to bolster social and political cohesion. Beijing needs a new unifying force to mobilize the nation in pursuit of common goals, such as economic modernization, and the "glue" is nationalism. In the post-Tiananmen era, the Chinese leadership appealed to nationalism (patriotism) to shore up their tainted legitimacy. Nationalism also underpins Chinese foreign policy, both in the region and elsewhere. Territorial disputes, human rights issues, nonproliferation issues -- all of these touch the nationalist nerves of Chinese leaders in Beijing. They do not want to jeopardize relations with their Asian neighbors, but neither do they want to lose face.

Thus, despite increased intra-Asian trade, cultural exchanges, and talk about an East Asian community, Korea, Japan, and China all still find politics of national identity appealing. After all, nationalism is not only about ideology, but also thrives on narrowly defined "national interests." Disputed territories always serve as symbols of national sovereignty that cannot be compromised. The mutual suspicion of Japan and China over the disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu islands and other territorial waters, as well as the recent escalation of Japan-Korean tension over Dokdo/Takeshima are but two potent reminders.

There is widespread recognition of the need for reconciliation and the final resolution of historical injustices. But there is a fundamental obstacle to reconciliation -- the existence of divided, even conflicting, historical memories. All of the nations involved are bound by very distinct perceptions of history, often contradictory and separated by different accounts of the past and of the context of events. These perceptions are deeply imbedded in public consciousness, transmitted by education, popular culture and through the mass media.

The most daunting task is coming to a common understanding of the past. Whereas a shared view of the past (World War II at least) served to unify (Western) Europe after two devastating wars, history still divides these three close Asian neighbors. Reconciliation has been "thin," and the history issue continues to mar regional cooperation. To achieve a "thicker" reconciliation, they need to move beyond nation-state-oriented, binary victim/aggressor concepts and approaches, and understand reconciliation as a mutual, interactive process. Citizens' groups, NGOs, victim-activist groups -- be they domestic, transnational, or international, and regardless of political orientation -- should be more actively involved.

Second, Northeast Asian nations must recognize that elements in their shared past may contribute to promoting regional reconciliation. China, Japan, and Korea often argue over history, but it is nonetheless true that elements in their past may also contribute to a regional identity. Coping with Western influence since the 19th century is but one area of common ground. Their experience of building modern nation-states and economies is another example. There exist ample cases and instances of common experiences that can be readily used to formulate a shared view of Northeast Asia's modern history.

Third, we need to encourage and teach critical and independent thinking to young Asians about their respective pasts. In particular, we need to cultivate a mutually acceptable, new national history of each country, resituated in a shared regional identity. Nationalism, regionalism, and internationalism will always coexist, but they need not contradict one another. In this critical time of change and desire to cultivate a shared view, we need to redefine these mutually reinforcing ideologies beyond a narrow, exclusive sense of nation.

Ultimately, building a vision for Northeast Asia's future beyond narrow national and political interests requires enlightened political leadership. Unfortunately, until now, the region has not seen such a visionary leader who is committed to cultivating regional reconciliation. On the contrary, many leaders have politicized the history problem for domestic, nationalist consumption. Interpretations of the past are unavoidably political, producing divided memories, and there is strong temptation to politicize the process for current ideological purposes. However tempting, politically convenient, and even psychologically satisfying it may be to blame others, such an approach will neither heal past wounds nor provide a foundation for the future. We need political leadership that can build public support for sometimes unpopular policies aimed at regional reconciliation.

Reprinted with permission from the Korea Herald.

To read the seismic signal sent from an abandoned coal mine in the mountains of North Korea's coast, you must first recognize that it represents four major failures, two grave dangers, and one big opportunity.

The apparent explosion of a nuclear device, coming after two decades of trying to stop North Korea from achieving this goal, is a manifest failure of policy on four fronts -- a failure of U.S. nuclear non-proliferation policy, a failure of international diplomacy, a failure of Chinese leadership and a failure of South Korea's strategy of engaging the North.

Having failed so completely, the world now faces two grave dangers. The first is the very real threat of war on the Korean Peninsula, triggered by a series of escalatory actions in the wake of the bomb test. The second is the danger that North Korea will proliferate its nuclear technology, materials or know-how to others -- not the least to another nuclear hopeful, Iran.

But there remains a lone and tenuous opportunity. Having removed all ambiguity about its nuclear ambitions, North Korea may finally have created a common sense of threat that will galvanize the kind of concerted international action that so far has been absent.

THE FOUR FAILURES

Non-proliferation failure

The United States has spent two decades trying to stop North Korea from going nuclear, a turbulent period of crisis and negotiation that even went to the brink of war. At least three administrations confronted this problem and none, certainly not the Bush administration, can escape blame.

North Korea agreed to sign the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) in 1985, but it stalled before signing an agreement with the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) in 1992 to place its nuclear facilities under international safeguards and inspections. During that time the North Koreans reprocessed some spent fuel from their reactor into plutonium - an amount that American intelligence believes was enough for building one or two warheads.

North Korea's resistance to full inspections, while it kept pulling spent fuel rods out of its reactor, provoked a crisis in 1994 and led the Clinton administration to ready military forces to strike the North's nuclear facilities. In a last-minute deal, North Korea froze its reactor and reprocessing facilities, effectively halting plutonium production under IAEA supervision. In exchange, the United States, Japan, South Korea and others agreed to construct two light-water reactors for North Korea and to supply fuel oil until the reactors came online.

The deal was troubled from the start. Neither party was satisfied with the compromise or the way it was to be implemented. By the late 1990s, the North had begun a secret effort to acquire uranium-enrichment technology from Pakistan and, in 1998, tested a long-range ballistic missile. Despite this, the plutonium freeze remained in place. But it did not survive the Bush administration.

The Bush administration came into office challenging the value of the agreement and froze contacts with the North. After receiving intelligence showing moves to build enrichment facilities, it confronted North Korean officials at an acrimonious meeting in Pyongyang in October 2002.

The United States halted fuel shipments a month later, and, in early 2003, the North Koreans expelled IAEA inspectors and withdrew from the Non-Proliferation Treaty. They proceeded to reprocess the fuel rods they had stored for a decade, producing enough plutonium, intelligence estimates say, for four to six nuclear warheads. In February 2005, the North Koreans announced they had manufactured nuclear weapons. Last week, they apparently made good on that declaration.

Blame aside, North Korea's emergence as the world's ninth nuclear power may be the most serious failure in non-proliferation history. Unlike India and Pakistan, which remained outside the system of international treaties, North Korea acted in defiance of those controls. Who might be next?

Diplomatic failure

Unlike Iraq, the attempt to stop North Korea's nuclear program has relied on the tools of diplomacy, accompanied by economic incentives and coercive sanctions.

But serious questions have been raised from the start about the sincerity and methods of the diplomatic efforts, particularly on the part of the United States and North Korea. The Bush administration has insisted -- and the president continues to make this argument -- that direct talks with North Korea do not work. Pyongyang has tried to frame everything as an issue with Washington, undermining talks that involved others, including South Korea.

Bush's stance lends credibility to those who charge the administration seeks "regime change," not a compromise that it believes will lend legitimacy to Kim Jong Il. The North Koreans now appear to have used the talks to buy time and build bombs.

Diplomacy has, at American insistence, consisted of six-party talks, held under Chinese auspices and including both Koreas, Japan and Russia. In truth, little real negotiating went on at these gatherings, at least until the last full round of talks in September 2005. In contrast to the thousands of hours of negotiations between Americans and North Koreans that led to the 1994 deal, there have been only tens of hours of actual give and take.

It is intriguing that the September agreement on a statement of principles for denuclearization came only after the State Department's chief negotiator was finally allowed to talk to his North Korean counterpart at length. Even then, their agreement evaporated almost immediately as they dueled publicly over the deal's meaning. American financial sanctions against North Korean currency counterfeiting further clouded the atmosphere, and direct contacts ground to a halt.

China's failure

The North Korean nuclear crisis is also a failure of China's bid for regional, if not global leadership. North Korea is an ally of China, a relationship that goes back more than half a century to the Korean War, when Chinese "volunteers" poured across the border to prevent an American victory. Their relationship has become more difficult since China embarked on market reforms while North Korea clung to its peculiar brand of Stalinism.

China has been torn between its loyalty to Pyongyang, its desire to maintain a stable balance of power in the region and its fear that the North's nuclear ambitions could provoke conflict on its borders. By becoming host for the six-party talks, Beijing stepped into an unusual leadership role.

The Bush administration was eager to move the burden of the North Korean problem onto the Chinese. Some administration hard-liners argued that China had the power to trigger the collapse of Kim Jung Il's regime by cutting off energy and food supplies.

Time and again, Beijing dragged the North Koreans back to the negotiating table, while also pushing Washington to engage Pyongyang in the talks. But Chinese irritation over American inflexibility has now been trumped by North Korea's defiance. Chinese policy-makers now wonder how they can punish the North without creating chaos, or war.

Failure of engagement

The final failure lies on the doorstep of South Korea's 10-year-long policy of engagement. The "sunshine policy" asserted that the North could be induced to give up its nuclear option by opening up the isolated communist state and promoting the forces of Chinese-style reform.

After a historic summit meeting in 2000, South Korean aid and trade, even tourists, flowed into the North. South Koreans lost their fear of a former foe, seeing it more as an impoverished lost brother than a mortal threat. Tensions with their American allies rose because of a gap in the North's perceived threat. The United States wondered why its troops should continue to defend South Korea.

Now South Koreans must confront the possibility that the North may have used engagement only to buy time.

THE TWO DANGERS

Threat of war

With eyes on Iraq and the Middle East, the Korean Peninsula has been far from the center of American attention. American forces based in South Korea and Japan have been dispatched to Iraq.

Yet the demilitarized zone that separates the two Koreas remains the most militarized frontier on the planet, with hundreds of thousands of well-armed soldiers poised against each other. Clashes along that frontier used to be commonplace and there are signs of a renewal of tensions. The danger of unintended escalation cannot be dismissed.

What might happen if a U.S. naval vessel, moving to inspect a North Korean freighter - as the U.N. resolution may authorize - is fired on or even captured, as the USS Pueblo was in 1968? It is a frightening scenario already worrying some at the Pentagon and the State Department.

Risk of proliferation

More than anything else, American policy-makers fear that North Korea, emboldened by its nuclear success and perhaps desperate for funds amid economic sanctions, might sell its nuclear expertise to Iran and others, including terrorist groups.

For Pyongyang, an alliance with Iran is a logical response to American and global pressure. The North Koreans have sold ballistic missiles to Tehran since the 1980s and rumors of nuclear cooperation persist.

An American effort to interdict the movement of ships and planes to Iran -- with possible U.N. backing - is probable. But the most likely transit is across the long and loosely controlled land border with China. The amount of plutonium needed to make a warhead is the size of a grapefruit and hard to detect - creating yet another nightmare scenario.

THE OPPORTUNITY

In this otherwise bleak landscape, there is an opportunity. For the first time, there is a chance of a consensus among the key players -- China, Japan, South Korea, Russia and the United States. The passage of a U.N. resolution is a small step in that direction. But the real test will come next, as the nations must cooperate to put pressure on North Korea, while coolly navigating the perils of war and making sure to leave open a diplomatic exit.

There is a slim chance of such concerted action, and a limited window for achieving it. Not everyone sees the dangers the same way. Signs of rethinking errors of the past are no more evident in Beijing and Seoul than they are in Washington or Tokyo. Ultimately, however, if they are to seize this moment of opportunity, all parties must face up to the fact that the policies of the past have failed.