SOUTH KOREA: Season of Spleen

Outright insurrection raises alarm about an invaluable Pacific ally

Lift martial law!" shouted the demonstrators. Others cried:

"Death to General Chun!" In South Korea's provincial capital of Kwangju, tens of thousands of protesters swarmed through the streets venting their anger at the martial-law government in power in Seoul and against the country's newest strongman, Lieut. General Chun Du Hwan. The turmoil soon turned into a full-scale insurrection. Rebellious citizens seized effective control of Kwangju, which is 175 miles south of Seoul, from the fleeing police. Rioting spread to 16 other towns of the province. After four days, more than 100 people had been killed and uncounted hundreds wounded. It was the most serious crisis in South Korea since the upheaval that brought down the regime of President Syngman Rhee in 1960 and began 19 years of military domination.

In Washington, the Carter Administration nervously urged the South Korean military leaders to exercise "maximum restraint," lest their actions lead to "dangerous miscalculation by external forces"—meaning, of course, the rulers of Communist North Korea. Washington had no reason to think that the Pyongyang government was in fact trying to take advantage of Seoul's troubles, but clearly the crisis carried with it the seeds of danger for both South Korea and its allies.

The rioting started two weeks ago, with a wave of student demonstrations in Seoul. The protests were aimed mostly against the martial law that has been in effect ever since the assassination of President Park Chung Hee seven months ago. The specific targets of these protests: the ineffectual President Choi Kyu Hah, 60, and, most of all, the authoritarian figure behind the President, Lieut. General Chun, 48. As both the head of the Defense Security Command and acting director of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, Chun was already being regarded as the country's offstage military ruler.

Just as the first wave of student protests subsided, the government cracked down with a series of iron-fisted edicts and actions: a ban against all political activity, the closing of all university campuses and, finally, the summary arrest of hundreds of prominent politicians, busi nessmen and student leaders. Indeed, even the head of the governing Democratic Republican Party, Kim Jong Pil, was detained. The arrest that proved to be a decisive provocation, however, was that of the government's leading critic, Kim Dae Jung. To justify their actions, the authorities charged that he had connived to foment the recent unrest and to overturn the government.

As it happens, Kim Dae Jung is a native of South Cholla province, of which Kwangju (pop. 800,000) is the capital. Cholla is the poorest region of the country, and was consistently neglected by President Park during his 18 years in power. The people of Cholla have long complained of unfair treatment by the central government. Most of all, they resent the fact that their area has been deprived of the industrialization that has benefited the rest of the country. When they learned last week that the government in Seoul had arrested Kim Dae Jung, they rose up in protest.