A few years ago, it would have sounded fantastical to suggest that massed North Korean soldiers would fight on a European battlefield — as a Ukrainian commander noted last month. Yet about 10,000 are thought to be fighting for Moscow, and on Tuesday a US official reported that “several hundred” had died in Russia’s Kursk region.
North Korea has one of the largest armies in the world, with more than 1.25 million personnel in a country of just 26 million. Despite its extraordinary nuclear and missile achievements, much of its vast stockpile of weapons is thought to be out of date — although that has not stopped it shipping as much as US$5.5 billion of arms and ammunition to Russia. The military has not engaged in large-scale combat since the end of the Korean War in 1953. At home, soldiers spend significant time trying to acquire food or basic supplies, including fuel.
However, those sent to Ukraine are thought to include elite troops trained in infiltration, sabotage and assassination missions — certainly more proficient than raw Russian conscripts, although language and cultural differences might pose problems. Moscow is likely to consider North Koreans even more expendable than its own fighters, since they carry no domestic political cost. However, the calculation is a little different for North Korea. The death toll would not be reported by state media there. Few families would dare risk complaining. Given the desperate poverty, any financial compensation and status improvement could transform the lives of those bereaved.
The wages for those still fighting (US$2,000 per soldier per month, South Korean intelligence believes) would almost all be claimed by the regime, which is also welcoming sorely needed oil and grain supplies. The news of the deal with Moscow sparked fears of significant technology transfer, and that remains the greatest concern. However, North Korea might well regard the presence of troops, and their apparent involvement in fighting, as a reward rather than a cost — offering its military experience in combat and more modern weaponry. South Korean officials believe they are testing North Korean missiles against Western arms. All this raises the prospect of North Koreans fighting in more global conflicts and heightens fears of greater instability in Asia.
China would not be thrilled. It already has a tense relationship with the country it has long propped up. Now Russian President Vladimir Putin has handed North Korea increased bargaining power with its patron. Moscow and Pyongyang signed a mutual defence and cooperation treaty this summer, drawn together not only by immediate need, but also their underlying belief that the US is linking NATO and east Asian alliances. This is in turn pushing South Korea closer to NATO and Japan, though Seoul’s political crisis complicates matters.
Another concern for North Korea should perhaps be that thousands of its fighters see a way of life that — even in Kursk, or devastated areas of Ukraine — might look startlingly comfortable compared with dire conditions back home. Ukrainian sources have claimed that some North Koreans have already deserted. Special forces would enjoy better-than-average living conditions and would have been vetted for political reliability. However, thousands of soldiers are likely to return home and discuss what they have seen, if only with their very nearest and dearest, in a system that has long been reliant on isolating as well as terrorizing its population.
As Taiwan’s domestic political crisis deepens, the opposition Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) have proposed gutting the country’s national spending, with steep cuts to the critical foreign and defense ministries. While the blue-white coalition alleges that it is merely responding to voters’ concerns about corruption and mismanagement, of which there certainly has been plenty under Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) and KMT-led governments, the rationales for their proposed spending cuts lay bare the incoherent foreign policy of the KMT-led coalition. Introduced on the eve of US President Donald Trump’s inauguration, the KMT’s proposed budget is a terrible opening
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,
“I compare the Communist Party to my mother,” sings a student at a boarding school in a Tibetan region of China’s Qinghai province. “If faith has a color,” others at a different school sing, “it would surely be Chinese red.” In a major story for the New York Times this month, Chris Buckley wrote about the forced placement of hundreds of thousands of Tibetan children in boarding schools, where many suffer physical and psychological abuse. Separating these children from their families, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) aims to substitute itself for their parents and for their religion. Buckley’s reporting is
Last week, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), together holding more than half of the legislative seats, cut about NT$94 billion (US$2.85 billion) from the yearly budget. The cuts include 60 percent of the government’s advertising budget, 10 percent of administrative expenses, 3 percent of the military budget, and 60 percent of the international travel, overseas education and training allowances. In addition, the two parties have proposed freezing the budgets of many ministries and departments, including NT$1.8 billion from the Ministry of National Defense’s Indigenous Defense Submarine program — 90 percent of the program’s proposed
RSS