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군 정체성 확립, 억제력 강화와 군 자긍심 회복 시급
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That is why, after the Korean War, South Korea’s pursuit of self-reliant defense was not a slogan but a mandate for survival. Alongside rapid industrialization, the South Korean military grew swiftly. While constrained in strategic domains such as aviation, missile systems, and nuclear capabilities, its conventional warfare capacity reached a level that could not be taken lightly.
The problem is now. The South Korean military is being shaken not primarily by external threats, but by internal structural weakening.
Kim Young-sam’s dismantling of the Hanahoe military faction was both inevitable and justified. By dissolving internal military cliques and eliminating political intervention, it laid the foundation for civilian control of the military.
However, the end of military rule and the weakening of the military itself are fundamentally different issues. Removing political soldiers is legitimate. But once the honor and professionalism of soldiers are diminished as well, the state begins to erode its own security foundation.
The problem lies in what followed. During periods often categorized as progressive or left-leaning administrations, the national perspective on the military underwent a structural shift. The military came to be viewed less as the ultimate guarantor of national survival and more as an instrument for managing inter-Korean relations. When an adversary cannot be clearly defined as such, and when preparedness for war is subordinated to peace discourse, the military’s core spirit begins to erode.
Following Kim Dae-jung’s Sunshine Policy and continuing through Roh Moo-hyun, South Korea’s North Korea policy shifted from war preparedness toward relationship management. This trajectory reached its peak under Moon Jae-in. While the “peace process” was emphasized, criticisms persisted that war readiness and security awareness were pushed to the margins. Meanwhile, North Korea’s nuclear and missile capabilities continued to advance, raising serious questions about the effectiveness of such policies. This contradiction has led some to describe the approach as a form of “disguised peace offensive.” Criticism has also emerged that the approach went beyond simple engagement and, at times, appeared to align with North Korea’s perspective. The current administration under Lee Jae-myung emphasizes pragmatism and flexibility. However, there is little evidence of a fundamental shift in the underlying perception of North Korea. While methods may differ, the strategic direction appears largely unchanged.
In this process, the concept of the “main enemy” has effectively been dismantled. But when a military no longer clearly defines its primary adversary, this is not merely a change in terminology—it undermines operational doctrine itself. It blurs the standards for training and force design, directly weakening readiness.
Security is not a declaration—it is a reality. The military operates within that reality.
A military is not sustained by equipment alone; it is sustained by pride. When the military is viewed solely as an object of control, and when social respect and honor are weakened through repeated policies and narratives, the very foundation of the institution begins to erode.
The changing status of military academies reflects this trend. In the past, the Korea Military Academy, Naval Academy, and Air Force Academy symbolized the nation’s elite. Today, public perception has clearly shifted. They are no longer seen as top-tier choices, and increasing dropout rates after admission reflect this change. This is not simply an admissions issue. It is the result of a structural imbalance: the risks and sacrifices required are not matched by sufficient compensation or career pathways. Military service does not consistently translate into expanded future opportunities. Combined with a declining societal recognition of military elites, this creates a negative cycle that discourages top talent.
At this point, the United States offers a clear contrast. The U.S. maintains strict civilian control over the military while simultaneously guaranteeing the honor of its service members institutionally. Programs such as the GI Bill transform military service from personal sacrifice into social capital. Observances like Memorial Day and Veterans Day, along with everyday cultural respect for veterans, reinforce military service as a core societal value. As a result, U.S. military academies remain among the most elite institutions.
This is not merely culture—it is a matter of national design. A structure where control and respect operate together: this is the foundation of a strong military.
In contrast, South Korea remains a divided nation where the war has not formally ended. When this reality is obscured, the identity of the military itself begins to weaken.
Some argue that reducing tensions is the path to peace. However, today’s North Korea is a nuclear-armed state. Peace with a nuclear-armed adversary cannot be created through declarations. It can only be sustained through deterrence.
The nature of the North Korean regime must also be confronted directly. Its power structure, legitimized by the so-called “Baekdu bloodline,” is built on control and isolation. Power is maintained through lineage and loyalty, with regime survival prioritized above all else. Historically, even ideological allies have been purged when deemed a threat to the system.
This issue is also reflected in current political debates. While the leadership emphasizes stability and balance, questions remain as to whether a consistent perception of threats and firm security principles are being maintained. Security policy must not fluctuate with political orientation—it must be grounded in a bipartisan commitment to national survival.
Ultimately, the crisis facing the South Korean military is not simply about military capability. It is a structural issue in which the identity and role of the military are becoming blurred within the reality of national division.
The military must never intervene in politics. But politics must not undermine the identity of the military.
The dismantling of Hanahoe was right. But in subsequent years, as the national perspective on the military lost balance, the honor, pride, and security awareness of the armed forces have been weakened as a matter of policy outcome.
The strength of a nation is revealed in how it treats its military. What South Korea must restore is not the return of military rule, but a clear-eyed recognition of its divided reality, the honor of its soldiers, the pride of its officer corps, and a credible military capable of deterrence.
Without a strong military, there is no peace. Peace without deterrence is nothing more than an empty slogan.
#SouthKorea #NationalSecurity #MilitaryDeterrence