The Two Koreas_ A Contemporary History - Don Oberdorfer [96]
Composed in the White House and State Department and sent to California for the president's signature, the missive was couched in sympathetic, gentle, and inoffensive language, which Reagan preferred when dealing with allies. Saying that he was writing "as a friend," Reagan seemed to endorse ideas that Chun had already expressed. Yet its unmistakable meaning was a call for political rather than military solutions:
I believe that political stability based on sound democratic institutions is critical to insuring the long-term security of your country, and you have often expressed the same sentiments. ... Therefore, I applaud your commitment to a peaceful transfer of Presidential power next year as a crucial-and, as you say, unprecedented and historic-step in strengthening that institution of democratic government....
The release of political prisoners, and further steps along the lines you have recently taken toward effectively dealing with police officials who abuse their authority, would send to the world a dramatic signal of your intent to break free of what you correctly term "the old politics." A free press and balanced coverage by television and radio are essential to realizing your commitment to fair elections. Dialogue, compromise, and negotiation are effective ways to solve problems and maintain national unity. Let me assure you that we will support all significant steps in these directions.
Finally, Reagan held out a personal sweetener-the promise of a visit to the United States by Chun after leaving office peacefully in 1988.*
The U.S. Embassy in Seoul received word on Wednesday night, June 17, that a letter from Reagan calling for restraint would soon be on its way, and asked for an appointment with Chun for Ambassador James Lilley to present it in person. The Korean government stalled-or in the word of the American political counselor, Harry Dunlop, "stonewalled"-on making an appointment as dozens of Korean cities became war zones. In the capital, thousands of protesters virtually took over many central streets. They overran a unit of eighty policemen, beat some of them badly, and burned their shields, masks, and tear-gas rifles in bonfires. In Pusan, the hometown of opposition leader Kim Young Sam, hundreds of police officers were injured as 15,000 protesters battled with rocks and firebombs against tear-gas assaults. Protesters in Taegu, the hometown of Chun and Roh, set several police posts on fire, overturned a fire truck, and turned its water cannon on riot police.
The usually decisive Chun was worried and frustrated. He had been telling aides for days that putting down the protests under the guns and bullets of martial law would damage the nation domestically and internationally and would constitute "a sad chapter in history," but at the same time he said that if the police lost control, he would be forced to take that step. By Friday morning, Chun seemed to have made up his mind to use the army. Meeting at ten A.M. with his defense minister, uniformed service chiefs, and the director of the intelligence agency, he ordered deployment, by four A.M. the next day, of battle-ready troops on a variety of campuses and cities. The U.S. Command was to be notified, as required, about those forces that would be withdrawn from the front lines. Student demonstrators were to be arrested. Under the emergency decree he was preparing, Chun told the meeting, he could dissolve political parties and open military courts to deal with dissenters. Another meeting with the military leaders was scheduled for five P.M.
The Blue House, meanwhile, finally acceded to the insistent American demands that Lilley deliver Reagan's letter. At two P.M. Lilley, an Asia expert who had been born in China