Executive Summary

The first Korea - West Coast Strategic Forum held in Seoul on December 11-12, 2006, convened policymakers, scholars and regional experts to discuss the North Korean nuclear issue, the state of the U.S.-ROK alliance, and notions of a formalized mechanism for security cooperation in Northeast Asia. Participants engaged in lively and frank exchanges on these issues. Gi-Wook Shin, Daniel C. Sneider, Siegfried S. Hecker, and Kristin C. Burke represented the Freeman Spogli Institute.

Participants were concerned that North Korea's drive toward nuclear weapons has exposed disparate interests among the five parties committed to arresting this ambition, including differences in threat perception between the United States and South Korea. But they also believed that multilateral dialogue still offers the best possibility for resolving the DPRK nuclear issue through peaceful means. Participants argued that in the wake of the nuclear test, pressure and use of force should be discounted as viable options and "rollback" through negotiations should be pursued. Such an approach necessitates clearer articulation of North Korea's options, a new consensus on mutual priorities, hard work on sequencing, and a more developed vision for alternative policies should diplomacy fail.

The U.S.-ROK alliance has entered a new era characterized by new American security imperatives, such as nonproliferation and counterterrorism, as well as a new Korean policy of engagement toward the DPRK. These factors, coupled with domestic political challenges and an evolving regional security environment, call for serious, strategic discussions on the state of the alliance. Though the U.S. and the ROK have exhibited diverging threat perceptions of North Korea the - core of the strategic rationale for the alliance - the instructive precedent set by NATO demonstrates that alliances can survive redefinition of the primary security threat, though not the absence of a common threat.

Participants discussed the prospects for greater regional cooperation in Northeast Asia, including the possibility of converting the six-party talks into a new institutional mechanism for multilateral security cooperation. However, there are serious obstacles to deeper integration in the region, not least unresolved historical issues that still elicit passionate responses. But if understandings on these issues can be reached, a regional security organization could address critical traditional and non-traditional security issues and mitigate uncertainty about China's rise.

The full text of the report can be found at The First Korea-West Coast Strategic Forum.

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.

The U.S. visit this week by South Korean President Roh Moo Hyun offers yet another opportunity to bemoan the crisis of confidence in our alliance. Anti-American views, particularly among the young, remain widespread in South Korea. On an official level, there are strains over the role of U.S. troops based in Korea and a stark divergence in approaches toward North Korea.

This portrait of a troubled alliance is often contrasted with a supposed golden age in U.S.-Korean relations during the Cold War. But that view obscures a history of sharp disagreement between the two allies. It is a mythical past that stands in the way of repairing our alliance today. In reality, Korean nationalism and American strategic policy goals have often clashed. Differences over North Korea have arisen repeatedly. And anti-Americanism has been a feature of Korean life for decades.

This was true from the earliest postwar days, in a relationship born out of a fateful and poorly considered decision to divide Korea, after decades of Japanese colonial rule, into American and Soviet zones of occupation. Syngman Rhee, South Korea's first leader, was often at odds with his American backers. Washington feared Rhee would provoke a war with the communist North, even after the end of the Korean War.

Relations with Park Chung Hee, who came to power in a military coup in 1961, were even thornier. Park was a fierce Korean nationalist and, according to a close former aide, uncomfortable with Americans. The two countries collided over North Korea policy, economic goals, human rights and democracy.

In the 1970s, South Koreans developed deep doubts about the durability of the alliance, an uneasiness fed by the Vietnam debacle and the withdrawal of U.S. troops from Korea. Park defied U.S. pressure in declaring martial law in 1972, junking the constitution and jailing leading opposition figures. He launched a secret campaign of influence-peddling and bribery of American congressmen to counter U.S. criticism of his policies.

While Park feared abandonment by the United States, North Korea's Kim Il Sung worried that China, after developing ties to Washington, might sell him out. Thus Park, even though he had been the victim of two assassination attempts by North Korea, reached out to Pyongyang. During high-level talks in 1972, there was a remarkable shared belief that the major powers were the obstacle to Korean reunification.

The most alarming sign of an alliance in crisis was Park's dangerous decision to develop nuclear weapons, made in secret in 1971 after Richard Nixon's withdrawal of one of the two American infantry divisions. According to my research, American officials became alarmed over the seriousness of this effort when a young CIA agent provided evidence of a crude design for a nuclear warhead.

In the spring of 1975, my father, the late ambassador Richard Sneider, sent a top-secret cable to Washington calling for an urgent review of the U.S.-South Korean alliance. Korea was "no longer a client state," he wrote, but was "well on its way to middle power status with ambitions for full self-reliance including its own nuclear potential."

Sneider recommended creation of a new partnership, one more akin to our alliances with NATO or Japan. He also pushed for quiet but tough diplomacy to dissuade Park from heading down the nuclear road. That campaign succeeded finally, but not before my father warned Park that the entire security alliance was jeopardized.

Park was assassinated in 1979 by his own intelligence chief, who claimed to have acted at American instigation. The charge was false, but it remains widely believed in Korea. The perilous state of our alliance reached a peak with the Kwangju uprising against military rule the following year, when hundreds of Koreans were killed by troops deployed with the alleged acquiescence of the United States.

Dispelling the myth of the previous golden era in U.S.-Korean relations does not mean that our relations lacked a foundation of shared interest or that the difficulties we face today are not serious. The gap over how to handle the threat from the North is certainly wider and more evident than in the past. And the democratization of South Korea makes our differences visible and harder to manage.

As policymakers from both countries meet this week, they need to take a deep breath and remember that our alliance survived tremendous stresses in the past. The task before us is not to focus on our divergence but to pick up the challenge left unmet 30 years ago -- to define the basis for a long-term relationship that is durable and reciprocal and that finally sheds the shackles of dependency.

BEIJING - A message from President Bush to North Korean leader Kim Jong Il will be delivered Monday in Pyongyang -- via two Chinese officials. Beijing now meets quarterly with Mr. Kim, the most contact the unpredictable North has with any outside party. Whether Vice Foreign Minister Wu Dawei and Vice Premier Hui Liangyu will surprise Kim Jong Il and exert real pressure is unclear.

With an international diplomatic effort under way a week after North Korea tested seven missiles, China has proposed informal six-party talks as a way to move the process along.

That is less than the US hoped for from China. But since China insists that it will veto any UN sanctions against the North, the US will accept such talks, according to envoy Christopher Hill.

All told, Beijing would appear key to shaping how the world deals with the defiant Kim. Yet from the moment Kim launched his missiles, China has denied it has clout; it politely insists that the US has the central role.

Since 2003, China has embarked on a historic effort to prop up and aid North Korea -- a state it had the frostiest relations with for more a decade. Now, $2 billion in aid gives Beijing unprecedented access -- something China is reluctant to squander, to "mix aid and diplomacy," as a Chinese scholar here puts it.

"China's influence on North Korea is more than it is willing to admit, but far less than outsiders tend to believe," says a recent report by the Seoul branch of the International Crisis Group.

To outsiders, it appears that a rising China -- running a lifeline of energy and food to its poor comrade - ought to have clout in Korea, as it holds more carrots and sticks than anyone. It seems axiomatic that Beijing can simply apply ancient Chinese wisdom and modern Chinese might to stop Kim's nuclear ambition. Both states are communist, wear green and red uniforms, fought the US together, and share borders and history. China is the only country with easy access, as well as trade and tourism, to the North.

"China does have leverage, but it is afraid it may overplay its hand," says Joseph Cheng, head of the political science department at City University in Hong Kong.

Since Kim Jong Il's July 4 missile shots, voices from Sandy Berger, President Clinton's security adviser, to John Bolton, US ambassador to the UN, have argued that "China is the key" to dealing with North Korean belligerence. It has become nearly a mantra in Washington. Twelve months ago, it was an article of faith in senior White House circles, misplaced or not, that China would deliver a deal with Kim to dismantle his nuclear program. Yet this did not happen.

Instead, with the US preoccupied in Iraq, China embarked on a quiet policy of self-interest: to strengthen North Korea. That policy helps to maintain the North as a "buffer state" between China and South Korea.

China does not want the North to collapse, and for US troops to fill the vacuum and appear on its northeast border. China has hosted Kim, and moved relations away from a bad patch in the 1990s, during the North's epic famine, when China asked for cash payments for food instead of barter.

In the past two years, Chinese officials have told Kim that he can reform his state along socialist lines just as China did. China has indicated it will help with economic aid, while he retains complete political control. To now castigate Kim could wreck that formula, sources say.

In the larger sense, Kim's launch of missiles, most of which could hit long-time nemesis Japan or US bases in East Asia, puts China in the position of choosing between its North Korean comrade and an evolving consensus in the international community. So far, China has tried to please both sides.

"I'm concerned that China isn't recognizing how serious this issue is," says Zhang Liangui, head of foreign studies at the Central Party School in Beijing, in a rare dissent. "China is taking a rigid position. Yet we have long said that if China wants to be viewed as a responsible superpower, it must not be isolated in the international community."

Adding to Beijing's problems is an unresolved ideological struggle in China -- where "neo-orthodox" hard-liners who maintain contact with North Korea want China to support its revolutionary posture. There is also genuine puzzlement in Beijing over how to deal with Kim, whose founder-father, Kim Il Sung, reputedly warned him many times that China would attempt to take over his regime one day.

"I hear often that China is the key, which involves a set of policy steps Beijing can take that will bring about the outcome the allies want," says Russell Leigh Moses of People's University. "But I have yet to see anyone show how if China does X, Pyongyang will do Y."

The White House seems to have abandoned its 2003 optimism that China will harness Kim. China may agree that a nuclear peninsula and a regime that test-fires rockets is not desirable. But it isn't clear on how to force Kim to open his highly controlled state and allow international inspectors to flood in, witness his system of gulags, and bring in potentially subversive material -- all to dismantle a nuclear program he's cherished for decades. The White House seems to understand this.

Scott Snyder of Stanford University argues the US is using the same strategy that it used with China in closing down Kim's accounts in Macau. China was forced to choose between the international regulatory authority, or North Korean money-laundering behavior.

Sunday, Undersecretary of State Nicholas Burns argued on FOX News Sunday that "It's time for China to exert its influence that it does have on North Korea." Also on Sunday programs, US and Japanese officials claimed they might have the votes to support a Japan-backed resolution for sanctions against the North.

Japanese politics have long been driven by patronage and pork. Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi has managed to add personality to the mix. Issues, when they mattered at all, were deeply domestic -- the last election, for example, focused on deregulation of the postal savings system.

So it is a bit of a shock to find Japan embroiled in a political struggle with foreign policy topping the agenda. The contest to succeed Koizumi has become a surrogate battleground for a debate over how to repair Japan's tattered relations with its Asian neighbors, China and South Korea.

Put simply, this war of ideas has two schools -- Conservative Realists and Assertive Nationalists.

The Realists fear that Japan has become dangerously isolated from Asia, its influence waning to the benefit of China. Constant tensions with China and South Korea put Japans economic recovery at risk, they worry. The Realists blame Koizumi for his provocative visits to the Yasukuni shrine to Japan's war dead and worry he tilts too far in his embrace of Bush and his policies in places such as Iraq and Iran.

The Nationalists see China as the principal national security threat to Japan. Their priority is to strengthen the alliance with the U.S., even at the cost of ties to Asia. They believe it is crucial to stand up to what is seen as Chinese bullying, symbolized by Beijing demanding that the Yasukuni visits stop as a price for high-level contacts.

This debate harkens back to the Meiji era and Japan's emergence as a great power. But the tortured history that ensued has left a clear legacy -- both camps accept the U.S. alliance as the foundation of Japanese security. The issue now is one of balance and relative independence in the formation of Japanese policy.

Each camp has a champion in the unofficial campaign for the September vote to replace Koizumi as president of the conservative Liberal Democratic Party -- a post that carries with it the premiership. Chief Cabinet Secretary Shinzo Abe, the frontrunner and Koizumi's preferred successor, represents the Nationalists. Yasuo Fukuda, who served as chief cabinet secretary for four years, until 2005, carries the Realist flag into battle.

Abe and Fukuda are cast from almost identical molds. Both are veteran politicians, scions of famous political families, even members of the same faction within the party. Yet they offer remarkably contrasting positions on Japan's diplomatic path in Asia and, less visibly, on how to manage relations with the U.S.

Abe, at age 51, is considered a representative of the younger generation. Like Koizumi, he has personal appeal, at ease on television and able to speak directly and emotively. Abe is the son of a former foreign minister and grandson of former Premier Nobusuke Kishi, a towering figure in post-war conservative politics.

Fukuda, who turns 70 in July, is an old-style Japanese politician, more comfortable working behind closed doors than in front of the TV cameras. "Fukuda is cool, rational, calculating, practical, nonideological and noncommunicative," comments William Breer, a former senior U.S. diplomat in Japan. Fukuda, too, is the son of a major conservative leader, former Premier Takeo Fukuda.

Abe is the front-runner, scoring well in polls and among party members. But Fukuda's star has risen in recent months, tied largely to the rise of tensions with China.

"Fukuda looks more mature, serious and experienced," says Breer. "People want better relations with China, though not at any cost. Fukuda can probably deliver that. Abe may not."

The starkest gap between the two men is over Yasukuni. Fukuda led an effort five years ago to create a secular memorial that would allow a prime minister to honor the war dead while avoiding the issue of the 14 Class A war criminals enshrined at Yasukuni and the unabashed lack of remorse over the war displayed at the shrine's museum.

Fukuda decried the defiant rhetoric in Japan surrounding the shrine, which has become a symbol of defying Chinese pressure. "Discussions in Japan have escalated too far," he said in a speech in late May. "Voices raised here reach China and South Korea, creating a vicious cycle."

Abe, like Koizumi, sees China's interference on Yasukuni as the problem.

"China's diplomacy is high-handed," Abe said recently. "If we permit China to engage in such diplomacy, China will also take a similar attitude on other issues."

But recently Abe pointedly avoided directly answering the question of whether he would continue the shrine visits. That has led some to speculate that Abe may want to find a way out of this cul-de-sac.

The Japanese public, according to recent polls, is evenly divided on the question of whether the next prime minister should visit Yasukuni. They overwhelmingly support the goal of improving relations with Japan's Asian neighbors, but a majority is also sympathetic to Abe's stance against Chinese pressure on Yasukuni.

Beyond Yasukuni, the two men offer contrasting visions of Japan's relationship to Asia and response to growing regional integration.

Fukuda points to the example of the "Fukuda Doctrine," a 1977 initiative by his father that responded to rising anti-Japanese sentiment by declaring that Japan would not become a military power and would try to build relations in the region as an equal partner.

In a series of recent speeches, Fukuda advocated integration of the region through an economic partnership agreement and called on Japan, China, and South Korea to cooperate toward this end. He visited South Korea in March along with former Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone and met with the South Korean president.

Abe, in contrast, echoes the Bush administration in calling for a strategic dialogue with India, Australia, and other democracies in Asia, as well as the U.S., unifying on the basis of common values -- widely interpreted as a thinly disguised attempt to counter China's rise.

They differ on other issues. Abe is a hardliner on North Korea, while Fukuda has pushed for negotiations. Abe puts revision of Japan'a antiwar constitution at the top of his priority list. Fukuda warns about hasty steps that would alarm Japan's neighbors.

When it comes to managing the U.S. alliance, the choice is subtle. Both have strong ties to the Bush administration. Fukuda played a key role in forging the Japanese rapid response to the September 11 attacks, including the decision to send ships to support the war in Afghanistan. Both supported the dispatch of peacekeeping troops to Iraq.

"Fukuda, however, might be a little more honest in evaluating U.S. foreign policies," suggests Breer. "He might not be as pliable as Koizumi."

Abe remains the favorite to win, particularly among LDP members. But Fukuda's fortunes may have been aided by the emergence of Ichiro Ozawa as leader of the main opposition party. Ozawa, a remarkable political operator and former LDP leader, believes in issue-based politics. He visited China this week and met with Hu Jintao, which suits his clear Realist agenda.

Other events could shape the fight. Koizumi has signaled his desire to visit Yasukuni on August 15, the anniversary of Japan'a surrender. Some analysts suggest that could strengthen Fukuda's appeal. Alternately, the North Korean test missile launches could consolidate Abe's bid for power.

Whatever the outcome, this succession fight will likely mark a turning point for Japan. It could slow -- or perhaps accelerate -- the slippage toward Sino-Japanese tensions. And it will mark the re-emergence of a Japan that looks outward. It is time for the rest of the world to pay attention to Japanese politics.

Iran has climbed to No. 1 on the Washington crisis hit parade. The question of how to stop Iran's nuclear program has unleashed a torrent of punditry. Advocates of diplomacy and a military strike spar on television and in op-ed pages.

Iran's nuclear ambitions deserve our attention. But even by the most alarmist estimates, Iran is years away from being able to build a nuclear warhead.

Meanwhile, over in Northeast Asia, North Korea now has enough fissile material for five to seven weapons and is quietly churning out enough plutonium to build at least one warhead a year, according to rough intelligence estimates. More ominously, work is moving ahead on a new reactor that could potentially produce enough separated plutonium for up to 10 weapons a year.

Somehow this danger prompts no sense of urgency in Washington. After a promising breakthrough last September, the six-party talks to halt the program have lapsed into a stalemate that is close to total collapse.

The Bush administration seems unconcerned. Diplomacy has ground to a halt. The North Koreans refuse to return to the six-party talks. The White House has barred its chief negotiator from talking directly with them, despite Pyongyang's desire to meet and the urging of our six-party partners.

Administration officials have recently floated a report that they are considering a new initiative to negotiate a peace treaty with North Korea. This is a smoke-screen to conceal an empty North Korea policy. According to administration officials, the peace treaty idea has been kicking around for months without going anywhere. South Korean officials tell me that they have been waiting, so far in vain, for any serious detailed discussion of this proposal.

It is the president himself who opposes direct negotiations with Pyongyang, over anything, including a peace treaty. He sees direct talks with North Korea or Iran as an act of weakness. "Somehow,'' he said last month, "the world ends up turning the tables on us.''

In reality, the administration is content to pursue a strategy of going after North Korean counterfeit currency and production of amphetamines and cigarettes, hoping to cut off the flow of funds from these activities. According to administration officials, Under Secretary of State Robert Joseph, the driving force behind this policy, gleefully talks about ``turning out the lights'' in Pyongyang.

Administration officials claim they are drying up slush funds that North Korean dictator Kim Jong Il uses to buy the loyalty of his subordinates. Some even suggest this could trigger a coup against Kim, with the Chinese pulling the strings.

But American intelligence experts who monitor North Korea closely see little evidence to support the conclusion that North Korea is being brought to its knees. Even if the measures are drawing blood, it is self-delusional to believe that this will bring down a regime that has already proven it is willing to starve its own population to stay in power.

The administration seems intent as well on pressing China and South Korea to curb their trade and investment with the North. The administration's special envoy on human rights in North Korea, Jay Lefkowitz, seems to spend most of his time attacking the South for setting up an industrial park in Kaesong in the North. He portrays it as exploiting slave labor. The South Koreans defend it as a vehicle to bring capitalism into the communist North.

The Bush administration's combination of attempted coercion and diplomatic freeze has only two visible effects so far.

First, it lends credence to North Korean claims that the United States, contrary to the joint statement issued last September, is still intent on overthrowing their regime.

Second, it undermines gains made by allowing chief envoy Christopher Hill to hold direct talks with his North Korean counterparts. That demonstrated a flexibility and confidence that disarmed critics, particularly in South Korea, and isolated the North. It strengthened coordination with China and South Korea, the two players with the most leverage over the North.

Now officials in both those capitals again question American readiness to seriously negotiate. Beijing and Seoul are even more convinced that pushing market reforms is the only route to bring the North to give up its nuclear option. Next month former South Korean President Kim Dae Jung will revisit his historic summit with the North Korean leader in 2000.

This growing gap with our allies and partners is deadly. Even if we wanted to opt for coercion, the United States can't do so alone. For that reason, it is urgent that the United States regains the diplomatic upper hand.