On a clear day, one can stand on this island and see the coast of North Korea, pale and milky on the horizon, 16km away. The channel could be crossed in just half an hour by boat.
But for Chang Hyung-soo, a 64-year-old retired diver here, this narrow strip of water is what separates him from his hometown. It also separates him from three of his friends who were lost in fog while fishing and taken to North Korea three decades ago.
What stretches before Chang is a divide hardened by a half century of mistrust.
"One day, they say, North and South Korean boats will fish peacefully together in this water," he said from a wind-battered hilltop observatory, gazing at the land his family fled during the Korean War. "But we should never give up any of our waters to the North Koreans. If we start doing that, they'll claim this island, too."
Baengnyeong is South Korea's northernmost island. Fishermen here proudly call it "South Korea's left-hand uppercut into North Korea's chin."
Since their leaders met in October, the two Koreas have been trying something unprecedented: creating joint fishing zones in disputed waters near Baengnyeong and four other South Korean islands near the North's coast. But talks on the issue have made little progress because of the North's refusal to accept a sea boundary between those islands and the North, drawn unilaterally by the UN at the end of the fighting.
The two Koreas have made major strides toward reconciliation along their land border in recent years. But the five islands present an especially tough challenge for South Korean president-elect Lee Myung-bak, because without peace here, an easing of tensions will remain difficult. Lee has said he will oppose any deal that will compromise the UN boundary.
"We must keep outside the range of North Korean shore guns," said Park Moon-il, the captain of the ferry Democracy 5, explaining why after leaving Inchon he must make a 217km detour around the North's coastal waters to reach Baengnyeong. "If we were allowed to beeline to Baengnyeong, we could shorten our trip by an hour and save four drums of fuel."
Baengnyeong looks like any other peaceful island -- from a distance. Crab and anchovy boats rest on mud flats, waiting for the tide. From its bluffs, jet-black cormorants dive for fish. Families and dogs trot out when the ferry approaches.
But up close, this is no ordinary island. Its snowy hills are pockmarked by artillery positions and bunkers, where Marines and villagers will dig in if North Korea showers the island with rockets and artillery shells in the initial hours of a war. Rusty steel columns jut from the beach to thwart enemy landing craft. Signs on the barbed-wire fences along the shoreline say "Mines."
"We cursed our luck when we were assigned here," said Chae Sun-ki, a 23-year-old Marine. "But we are proud of guarding this frontier."
There are 4,900 civilians on this 32km2 island and nearly as many Marines stationed here.
Offshore, navy vessels shadow fishing boats, ensuring that they do not stray into North Korean waters, and guard the disputed sea border. Fishermen must return home before sundown. Anyone who ventures onto the beaches after dusk risks being shot.
"Here, you will find some of South Korea's staunchest anti-communists," said Kim Ki-wang, 39, a fisherman.
"When we were schoolchildren, we burned Kim Il-sung in effigy," he said. "We composed anti-communist slogans. Our favorite was, `The best way to treat a communist and a rabid dog is with a club.'"
The five islands have helped contain the North's naval expansion into waters west of Seoul, as well as securing rich supplies of fish and crab for South Korean dining tables.
Many Baengnyeong residents are North Korean natives who fled during the war, or their offspring. South Korea encouraged their settlement here with tax cuts and housing subsidies.
But since 1973, North Korean gunboats have regularly violated the UN boundary. After a 1999 clash, the North declared a new border deep inside waters controlled by the South. Residents bristle at Pyongyang's claims.
"Let them come," said Cho Sook-ja, 68, who runs a restaurant. "I will rush out even if I have to fight with a poker."
But as relations between North and South have eased, many on this island say they feel they have been left behind. The mines and the four-hour detour impeded efforts to develop the island as a tourist destination.
To make matters worse, hundreds of Chinese fishing boats, after paying fees to the North Korean navy, have sailed into waters between their islands and North Korea in recent years while the South Korean fishermen have been restricted to waters close to their own shores.
"The Chinese trawlers catch anything, everything, and deplete our seas," said Kim Myong-san, 78, who first came to the island as a Marine and settled here with his wife.
When South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun met with North Korean leader Kim Jong-il in October in Pyongyang, they agreed to create a joint fishing zone to help resolve the border dispute. But talks have stalled.
"A few weeks ago, a 93-year-old man came here to take a last look at his hometown across the channel before he died," Chang said from the hilltop. "But he could see nothing because of the fog. I still remember the old man's tears of disappointment."
In the event of a war with China, Taiwan has some surprisingly tough defenses that could make it as difficult to tackle as a porcupine: A shoreline dotted with swamps, rocks and concrete barriers; conscription for all adult men; highways and airports that are built to double as hardened combat facilities. This porcupine has a soft underbelly, though, and the war in Iran is exposing it: energy. About 39,000 ships dock at Taiwan’s ports each year, more than the 30,000 that transit the Strait of Hormuz. About one-fifth of their inbound tonnage is coal, oil, refined fuels and liquefied natural gas (LNG),
To counter the CCP’s escalating threats, Taiwan must build a national consensus and demonstrate the capability and the will to fight. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) often leans on a seductive mantra to soften its threats, such as “Chinese do not kill Chinese.” The slogan is designed to frame territorial conquest (annexation) as a domestic family matter. A look at the historical ledger reveals a different truth. For the CCP, being labeled “family” has never been a guarantee of safety; it has been the primary prerequisite for state-sanctioned slaughter. From the forced starvation of 150,000 civilians at the Siege of Changchun
The two major opposition parties, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), jointly announced on Tuesday last week that former TPP lawmaker Chang Chi-kai (張啟楷) would be their joint candidate for Chiayi mayor, following polling conducted earlier this month. It is the first case of blue-white (KMT-TPP) cooperation in selecting a joint candidate under an agreement signed by their chairpersons last month. KMT and TPP supporters have blamed their 2024 presidential election loss on failing to decide on a joint candidate, which ended in a dramatic breakdown with participants pointing fingers, calling polls unfair, sobbing and walking
In the opening remarks of her meeting with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing on Friday, Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) framed her visit as a historic occasion. In his own remarks, Xi had also emphasized the history of the relationship between the KMT and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Where they differed was that Cheng’s account, while flawed by its omissions, at least partially corresponded to reality. The meeting was certainly historic, albeit not in the way that Cheng and Xi were signaling, and not from the perspective
RSS