Reckless Driving

I'v

e finally figured out the reason for North Korea's bizarre behavior of late: some time last year, in a still top-secret caper, U.S. Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld must have convinced North Korean leader Kim Jong Il to switch sides and sign on to the Pentagon payroll. Okay, I admit this is far fetched. But it might just explain the series of self-defeating plays Kim has made on the strategic chessboard since President George W. Bush's "axis of evil" speech. Of course, Pyongyang's approach to statecraft has always appeared a tad peculiar, its international posture unapologetically savage. But alien as this "diplomatic" framework may seem to tender Western sensibilities, the brute fact is that it has generated results for North Korea for decades.

But what we've witnessed in the past year or so is a new pattern: successive top-level edicts that bolster the clout of Pyongyang's overseas adversaries—particularly Rumsfeldian warriors who dream of imposing "regime change" on North Korea.

Remember Kim's "confession diplomacy" with Japan last fall? His unprecedented admission of North Korea's past kidnapping of Japanese citizens was supposed to pave the way for normalization of relations—and juicy normalization payments from Tokyo. But then Kim lowballed the victim total and let it be known that most of the unfortunates had already died and that autopsies would be impossible since their graves had somehow disappeared. Thanks to the ensuing explosion of popular outrage back home, anti-North Korean circles in Japan no longer have to worry about "normalization in our time."

Then, of course, there's the current North Korean nuclear drama—with the latest twist unfolding in Beijing just last month. After months of equivocation, China, North Korea's last remaining quasi-ally, consented to join the U.S. in talks with North Korea about Pyongyang's nuclear violations. Beijing graciously agreed to host the meetings and committed Vice Foreign Minister Wang Yi to the deliberations. The U.S. sent Assistant Secretary of State James Kelly. And the North Koreans? They sent a worker bee: Li Gun, deputy director general of their Foreign Ministry's American Affairs Bureau. Officials of that rank can, at best, serve as one-way broadcast machines for prerecorded messages from Pyongyang. Just to make sure the Chinese and Americans didn't miss the snub, Pyongyang also arranged for General Jo Myong Rok, Kim's No. 2, to be in Beijing when Kelly arrived—but unavailable for the talks.

Then, on the second day of the three-day talks, Li, true to his script, informed Kelly that North Korea indeed possesses nuclear weapons, might well choose to export or "demonstrate" them and would base its decision on whether Washington meets a slew of demands, including lots more aid. Li added that the plutonium from the Yongbyon reactor—material that $400 million in U.S. heavy-fuel-oil payments was meant to keep "frozen"—was now almost completely reprocessed. North Korea then called off the third day of talks, explaining that the Americans "had nothing new to say."

For the U.S., the Beijing talks were a chance to rally support for tightening an international noose around a nuclear rogue. For North Korea, the objective was to break up any such nascent coalition. Guess who went home with traction?

For China—the weak link in any anti-Kim lynch mob—the talks were especially arresting. Chinese officials have long opined that North Korea may not actually have nukes. That's now a harder pose to strike. Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing, according to news reports, was "appalled" by North Korea's performance, and China was said to be anxious about the possibility of "war on our border."

The alternative to war, a leaked Pentagon memo suggested before the talks, would be a coordinated U.S.-China campaign to oust Kim, replacing him with someone less explosive. In the State Department, this notion was met with snickers, clearly seen as an unlikely eventuality. Look for fewer snickers in China this week.

And what of the reaction of the South Korean government, the self-styled battered spouse and co-enabler in the North Korean nuclear drama? Seoul still seems to be in, well, denial. South Korean diplomats are letting it be known that there were "promising elements" in the package Pyongyang "left on the table" in Beijing. (Memo to South Korea: don't try to open that promising package when your loved ones are in the room.)

It may take even more in the way of hostile pyrotechnics from Pyongyang to convince Seoul to join the U.S. Defense Department's North Korean-regime-change club. But don't put it past Kim. Nobody has a greater knack for alienating friends and enemies alike.