In the past such bellicose episodes were usually calculated, but this one seems to lack a clear purpose.

North Korea gives two pretexts for its anger this time. One is claims of a US-orchestrated witch-hunt by the UNSC. The UNSC has indeed been on the DPRK’s case issuing two resolutions in quick succession, each tightening already existing sanctions. Resolution 2087 (22 January 2013) condemned December’s rocket launch and extended sanctions to six further organisations and four individuals. Hard on its heels, Resolution 2094 (7 March 2013), in response to 12 February’s nuclear test, further tightened what is in fact quite a loose noose, with more monitoring of cargoes, diplomats and banks. Banned luxury items were itemised for the first time. But in claiming persecution, North Korea has the causality back to front. If you test a nuclear bomb or a long-range missile, then the UN is going to condemn and sanction you. Moreover, these like all previous UNSC sanctions condemning North Korea were unanimous. Neither China nor Russia (both of which still fight the DPRK’s corner in limiting the scope of sanctions to weapons-related matters) will appreciate being dismissed as puppets who dance to Washington’s tune.

North Korea’s second pretext is no more persuasive. Each year at this time the US and South Korea hold two joint war games: Foal Eagle, a large field training exercise; and Key Resolve, a shorter computer simulation. The allies insist the exercises are defensive in nature and the UN Command duly notifies the North’s Korean People’s Army (KPA) of the dates. Yet every year Pyongyang claims that this is a rehearsal for invasion. It did the same with Foal Eagle’s predecessor Team Spirit, held from 1976-1993. Of course the KPA conducts its own war games too, without allies and without informing the other side. Team Spirit was, and Foal Eagle is, one of the world’s largest military exercises, mobilising some 200,000 troops. One can argue the political pros and cons. There have been years, such as 1994-96, when Team Spirit was suspended in hopes of inducing the DPRK into a peace process. Still, North Korea had no reason to fear anything unusual this time; at least until its own shrill threats elicited a response. US press reports claimed that B-52 bombers, which were part of Foal Eagle, had simulated practice nuclear strikes on North Korea.

This time Pyongyang’s fiercer than usual reaction included specific threats to abrogate both the Armistice Treaty which ended the 1950-53 Korean War (there was never a peace treaty) and inter-Korean non-aggression pacts. Not a few outside media got these two muddled up. In fact South Korea never signed the Armistice, since its then President Syngman Rhee was all for continuing the war. The North has since made propaganda use of this, arguing when it suits it that Seoul has no place in peace discussions which are a bilateral matter between the DPRK and US. North Korea long ago sabotaged some of the Armistice’s key institutions, like the Neutral Nations Supervisory Commission (NNSC). Pyongyang has also abjured the Armistice before. Yet legally this is meaningless. The pact was duly signed, and it is simply not open to one party to walk away and repudiate it.

Regarding inter-Korean treaties, it is unclear which one Pyongyang is supposedly ripping up. 1991’s Agreement on Reconciliation, Nonaggression and Cooperation and Exchange seems a likely candidate, but that was never implemented. A Joint Declaration on Denuclearization of the Korean Peninsula followed in 1992, but already in May 2003 the North called this a ‘dead letter’ — while in practice systematically breaking it, including by three nuclear tests. Then there are the joint statements issued at the two North-South summits in 2000 and 2007. But the North values these and accuses the South of breaching them, so that seems unlikely.

Another threat was to cut the North-South hotline at the border village of Panmunjom. But this too was unclear, for there is more than one. What the North said it would cut, and did so on March 11, is a civilian Red Cross phone link. Meanwhile, a separate North-South military hotline has also been closed. That still leaves at least one further line. The Armistice system has long had its own separate channels of communication, and other secret hotlines may also exist.

All this war talk appears so far to be more bark, but now are we seeing a few small signs of bite too? At Dorasan hundreds of South Koreans cross the once-sealed DMZ every day commuting to a joint venture industrial park near the ancient capital city of Kaesong, close to the border, to supervise 55,000 Northern workers making goods for 123 Southern (mainly small) companies. For a canary in the mine to monitor the real risk on the peninsula, the Kaesong Industrial Complex (KIC) is the place to watch. On 3 April the KIC was temporarily closed (with South Koreans being allowed to leave but not allowed in) generating some concern. Also, cyber-attacks on March 20 gave pause for thought as three major ROK broadcasters and three ROK banks were hit with some 32,000 computers and servers in total being knocked out. The damage was serious, though not lasting. While nothing has yet been proven, the suspicion is that the ultimate source was North Korea.

Grasping for hope amid the gloom, new South Korean President, Park Geun-hye, has oft-expressed hopes of building ‘trustpolitik’ with the North, and appointed the architect of that policy — Ryoo Kihl-jae, an academic — as her minister for unification. Despite the current tension, Ryoo was quick to reiterate his hope of resuming humanitarian aid to the North in due course. Making his first visit as minister to Panmunjom on March 22, he also visited the border crossing at Dorasan and stressed its important role in building trust with the North. This is a very different note from the Lee Myung-bak era.

Parts of the Seoul press criticised Ryoo’s language and timing as signalling weakness. But keeping calm, emphasising goodwill and taking a long-term view is a better idea than countering the North’s threats with more threats. Vigilance is essential, but at some point Pyongyang will stop shrieking. The hope must be that it will then start listening.

Aidan Foster-Carter is Honorary Senior Research Fellow in sociology and modern Korea at Leeds University and a freelance consultant, writer and broadcaster on Korean affairs. 

A longer version of this article first appeared at, and is used with the kind permission of, NewNations.com.