February 28, 2025
The recent 2024 declaration of martial law in South Korea brought back memories of the country’s turbulent past and raised questions about the United States’ role in South Korean politics. Featured contributor Frank Jones revisits the events of 1980--the last time martial law was imposed--by reviewing “Korea on the Brink: From the “12/12 Incident” to the Kwangju Uprising, 1970-1980.” The book, written by Retired General John Wickham, provides a first-hand account of his time as CFC commander during this tumultuous period. Wickham was involved in three major crises: the assassination of President Park Chung-hee, the 12/12 military coup led by Chun Doo-hwan, and the Gwangju Uprising. Throughout these events, Wickham worked tirelessly to maintain stability, uphold the U.S.’ reputation, and safeguard its interests in the region. His memoir offers a compelling look at the complexities of politico-military crisis management and provides valuable lessons for leaders navigating similar challenges today.

In telling this tale, Wickham provides a master class on politico-military crisis management, but not one without controversy.

The South Korean people’s reaction to President Yoon Suk Yeol’s emergency declaration of martial law on December 3, 2024, was immediate, visible, and vocal. Thousands took to the streets to express anger with the decree and the National Assembly swiftly voted to overturn the order. Yoon’s brief edict ignited not only protests, but painful memories of the last time the imposition of martial law occurred—1980. The events leading to that action decades ago are not just part of South Korea’s history; they haunt U.S. relations with the country to this day. Some South Koreans and others accuse the United States of tacitly supporting a South Korean military dictatorship over democracy. This charge led retired U.S. Army General John A. Wickham, who served as commander of the newly-formed Combined Forces Command (CFC) from 1979 to 1982, to write Korea on the Brink: From the “12/12 Incident” to the Kwangju Uprising, 1970-1980, published in 1999.

As the senior U.S. commander in country, Wickham became embroiled in three tumultuous episodes that altered the course of the Republic of Korea’s (ROK) history. The book, a memoir, recounts his role in these affairs to furnish a more complete picture of U.S. actions behind the scenes and repair the reputational damage the United States suffered. To that end, the text includes excerpts from messages Wickham sent his superiors in Washington, D.C. to keep them informed, but also to offer policy advice. In telling this tale, Wickham provides a master class in politico-military crisis management, but not one without controversy.

The United States’ primary policy objective in South Korea was to “maintain peace and stability on the Korean peninsula” (xi) after the signing of the 1953 Korean Armistice Agreement, and to deter North Korea’s (DPRK) military threat. However, President Jimmy Carter (1977-81) made human rights a foreign policy priority, and therefore, his administration sought to “foster democracy, economic development, human rights and the rule of law in the ROK” (xi). Wickham attempted to advance both aims during the three crises.

The First Crisis: The Assassination of President Park Chung-hee

President Park Chung-hee was an army general who came to power in a 1961 coup. His presidential rule came  to an end on October 26, 1979, when the director of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, Kim Jae-gyu, assassinated him and Cha Chi-Chul, chief of the presidential security service. Kim’s motive stemmed from a rivalry with Cha, whom he suspected of plotting to replace him as KCIA director. Wickham, who had assumed command of U.S. forces in South Korea just three months earlier, was in Washington, D.C., when the assassination transpired. Caught unawares, Wickham and Carter administration officials confronted the most immediate issue: fear of a North Korean attack. Wickham advised a careful balance between deterrence and the need to stabilize the situation and reassure their ROK allies. In addition to retaining the heightened alert status of the CFC’s U.S.-ROK forces, which had already happened, he recommended deployment of U.S. military assets and increased airborne intelligence collection to signal to North Korea not to take advantage of the turmoil. Secretary of Defense Harold Brown approved his recommendations directly.

Upon his arrival back in Seoul, Wickham coordinated the in-country response with U.S. ambassador William Gleysteen and visited CFC troops to conduct an assessment of readiness. On Gleysteen’s advice, he commended senior army officers for remaining faithful to the constitution, as both men knew the army, politicized under Park, ran South Korea.

In the aftermath of Park’s murder, Choi Kyu-ha, premier under Park, became the acting president while Major General Chun Doo-hwan, a Park protégé and director of the Defense Security Command, took charge of the investigation into the assassination. The crisis abated, but it proved to be, in Wickham’s words, the “calm before the storm” (46).

The Second Crisis: The “12/12 incident”

A power struggle soon emerged between officers who remained loyal to the government and a clique of ambitious younger generals led by Chun Doo-hwan, who deplored the U.S. emphasis on political liberalization. They seized power on December 12, 1979. The units conducting the coup included ones under CFC operational control (OPCON)  that were withdrawn from their assigned locations without notifying Wickham. Since these forces were critical to ROK defense plans, their withdrawal resulted in a risk to national defense.

Wickham’s cable to his superiors at Pacific Command and the Pentagon two weeks after the coup was an insightful, thorough, politico-military analysis of the situation, replete with counsel as to how the U.S. government should proceed with its relations with a group of officers that had undermined an ally’s constitutional democracy. The evaluation was candid and prescient about the political implications of the coup, how it affected U.S. relations with the ROK, and in its warnings not to trust the insurgents. Wickham also pointed out that the United States “ probably will have no advance knowledge of future crisis events.”(96) He recommended reconsideration of programs based on trust such as sharing of technology and intelligence, but warned against taking any steps out of spite, even though the insurgents’ actions undermined U.S. security interests in the region. He followed by advocating a policy of keeping Chun at “arm’s length” and dealing only with “legitimate authorities”, as the United States did not want to appear to endorse Chun’s seizure of power.(78) Wickham kept the line of communications open with the minister of defense and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (CJCS) as his superiors urged him to do.

The next several months were taxing for Wickham. He had the difficult task of navigating the labyrinth of the ROK’s interagency, trying to discern who he could trust in the government. He kept the CFC focused on readiness by establishing war plans reviews, and remained vigilant regarding North Korean force posture and the infiltration of agents that might take advantage of the instability in the ROK. He provided his superiors with perspicacious assessments of the situation and his personal appraisal of the implications for U.S. policy.

The Third Crisis: The Gwangju Uprising

In February 1980, Wickham met with Chun for the first time since the coup. In the interim, Wickham emphasized to ROK leaders that undermining the CFC commander’s authority was a breach of the bilateral agreement, especially the unauthorized diversion of forces under his OPCON. After the meeting, Wickham remained suspicious of Chun’s motives; he viewed Chun as seeking greater power and untrustworthy. His reservations proved perceptive.

Throughout South Korea widespread public yearning for political liberalization remained, as evinced by growing student and labor unrest regarding the limited martial law that had been in place since December. On May 13, 1980, Wickham met with Chun who expressed his concern about student disorder and believed North Korea was instigating it. Wickham grew concerned that Chun was beginning to rationalize the use of force against protestors and finding scapegoats for the disturbances. The next day, Wickham returned to the United States to attend his son’s college graduation. Three days later, May 17, demonstrators in Gwangju (formerly Romanized as Kwangju), a city of 750,000 inhabitants and the capital of South Cholla province, demanded the end of martial law. In response, Chun imposed full martial law and arrested student protestors and opposition political party leaders. A national emergency declaration went into force that allowed the use of the armed forces to quell the protest. This was the situation Wickham confronted on his May 19 return.

Perhaps mindful of Wickham’s warning about using CFC troops without authorization, Chun sent ROK special forces troops that used brutal tactics to try to quell the trouble in Gwangju. Chun offered as justification for taking such drastic steps that the communists were stirring up the trouble. This was a crisis and only the military was prepared to deal with it. Meanwhile, Secretary Brown requested Wickham’s personal assessment. Wickham cabled that the current ROK leaders viewed the United States as pushing liberalization too quickly and bristled in response to U.S. moralizing. They saw only U.S. failures in the recent withdrawal from Vietnam, Iranian Revolution, and Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. As a result, Wickham believed that the United States had little leverage over ROK leaders and punitive actions would make the situation worse.

As the situation in Gwangju worsened, the ROK government withdrew two infantry divisions from CFC OPCON for riot control to do so, they did not need Wickham’s authorization, only notification under the CFC agreement. Wickham met with government leaders and advocated restraint because North Korea might take advantage of the disorder. The ROK leaders responded that the DPRK was behind the trouble. On May 27, the leaders ordered the onsite commander to restore authority over the city. Four regiments of the 20th Infantry Division made the assault using deadly force. The result was more than 200 people, mostly civilians, dead or missing, according to government figures. In the aftermath, Chun promoted himself to four-star general and head of the KCIA in August 1980. The National Assembly, not the populace, elected him president (he was the only candidate) on September 1, 1980.

The military leader needs to have a deep understanding of the complexities of a foreign culture.

Wickham ends the book with his reflections on the crises and his handling of these events with four important points. First, the military leader needs to have a deep understanding of the complexities of a foreign culture and in this case, the “politico-military realities in Korean society” (176). His second point was on the importance of alliance obligations and assurance. The United States did not appreciate that its abandonment of South Vietnam four years earlier led ROK military elites to harbor grave reservations about the U.S. security commitment to South Korea. Third, U.S. policy decisions to impose economic and security penalties on an ally could undermine relations with allied military leaders and U.S.-stated objectives, which in this case, was strengthening the ROK’s military capabilities. Fourth, an ally’s societal view of the United States was crucial. The U.S. government was right to protest the undemocratic actions as they were inconsistent with U.S. values, but it was not prepared to “take an active role in overthrowing Chun” (177) because the risks of internal chaos and DPRK intervention were too high. This stance led to problems with the Korean people who saw the United States as the protector of their nation’s sovereignty and human rights.

On a professional level, Wickham had no choice but to become involved in Korean domestic matters, because political and military matters were “inextricably linked” (182). Consequently, he carried out his communications with current and retired ROK generals to keep U.S. policymakers informed, and in doing so, help shape U.S. policy and responses to events. Vital regional U.S. interests were at stake. Wickham’s experiences have relevance today. When Yoon declared martial law “to protect the constitutional order,” General Paul LaCamera, then commander of CFC, and the Pentagon, found themselves in a jarringly similar situation. Like their predecessors, the action surprised them. They were also “not informed of the movement of the ROK’s 1,500 elite troops.” Again, questions of command authority surfaced as did fears of North Korea taking advantage of any instability. As the political turmoil subsided, on December 12, LaCamera and acting Defense Minister Kim Seon-ho publicly reaffirmed the two nations’ commitment to the alliance. LaCamera added that CFC remained “prepared to respond to external threats while completely respecting the ROK sovereignty and individual rights.” These were words Wickham could have uttered, but they are also ones that senior U.S. officers who work with complicated political dynamics while striving to accomplish their military missions should internalize.

Frank Jones is a Distinguished Fellow of the U.S. Army War College where he taught in the Department of National Security and Strategy. Previously, he had retired from the Office of the Secretary of Defense as a senior executive. He is the author or editor of three books and numerous articles on U.S. national security.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the U.S. Army War College, the U.S. Army, or the Department of Defense.

Photo Description: Chonnam National University, where the Gwangju Uprising began, on May 18, 1980.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of the May 18 Memorial Foundation.

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