Growing economic ties and a new interest in cultural exchanges are bringing the countries of Northeast Asia closer together. Yet wounds from past wrongs -- committed in times of colonialism, war, and dictatorship -- are not fully healed. All nations have some sense of victimization -- Japan vis-à-vis the United States and Russia, and China and Korea vis-à-vis Japan -- and often blame others, rather than taking responsibility.

As with many other cases around the world, reconciliation between countries in the region first occurred between governments. Japan established diplomatic rapprochement with countries it had once invaded or colonized: with the Republic of China in 1952, with the Republic of Korea in 1965, and with the People's Republic of China in 1972.

Yet Northeast Asian nations have failed to come to terms with the past. Japan paid no reparations to its former colonies -- though it gave "grants and aid" to South Korea for normalizing their relations -- and China and Korea were excluded from the

San Francisco Treaty that settled Japanese war crimes and atrocities. Historical issues such as disputed territories and Japan's colonial rule were largely swept under the rug in the Cold War system.

The failure to address historical injustice and to reconcile differing views of the past has strained Sino-Japanese relations and friction between Japan and South Korea over Japan's colonial past remains intense. Even South Korea and China are sparring over the history of the ancient kingdom of Goguryeo. In addition, Taiwan is immersed in a reexamination of the past. The history question touches upon the most sensitive issues of national identity and now fuels the fires of nationalism in Northeast Asia.

In Korea, nationalism has offered a framework for dealing with victims of historical injustice such as the comfort women and forced laborers. It forces issues to be framed in binary opposition -- victims vs. aggressors -- and leaves little room for any alternative. Koreans are reluctant to acknowledge their atrocities during the Vietnam War, but readily criticize similar acts committed by the U.S. during the Korean War. Disputes over the kingdom of Goguryeo reflect lingering irredentist Korean nationalism as well as China's rising nationalism.

In Japan, uncertainties and anxieties created by the post-Cold War security environment and a decade of economic stagnation provided a fertile ground for nationalist politics. Nationalist scholars are making headway in producing textbooks to "make Japanese proud of themselves." Increased official use of such symbols as the flag and the national anthem used by imperial Japan are part of Japan's quest to become a "normal nation." The goodwill generated by Prime Minister Abe's visit to China and South Korea soon after taking office, suggesting a conciliatory policy toward Asia, has been undermined by his recent remarks on the comfort woman issue. If there is any difference between Korea and Japan, it is that the left in Korea -- as opposed to the right in Japan -- is at the forefront of nationalist politics.

China is promoting nationalism to bolster social and political cohesion. Beijing needs a new unifying force to mobilize the nation in pursuit of common goals, such as economic modernization, and the "glue" is nationalism. In the post-Tiananmen era, the Chinese leadership appealed to nationalism (patriotism) to shore up their tainted legitimacy. Nationalism also underpins Chinese foreign policy, both in the region and elsewhere. Territorial disputes, human rights issues, nonproliferation issues -- all of these touch the nationalist nerves of Chinese leaders in Beijing. They do not want to jeopardize relations with their Asian neighbors, but neither do they want to lose face.

Thus, despite increased intra-Asian trade, cultural exchanges, and talk about an East Asian community, Korea, Japan, and China all still find politics of national identity appealing. After all, nationalism is not only about ideology, but also thrives on narrowly defined "national interests." Disputed territories always serve as symbols of national sovereignty that cannot be compromised. The mutual suspicion of Japan and China over the disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu islands and other territorial waters, as well as the recent escalation of Japan-Korean tension over Dokdo/Takeshima are but two potent reminders.

There is widespread recognition of the need for reconciliation and the final resolution of historical injustices. But there is a fundamental obstacle to reconciliation -- the existence of divided, even conflicting, historical memories. All of the nations involved are bound by very distinct perceptions of history, often contradictory and separated by different accounts of the past and of the context of events. These perceptions are deeply imbedded in public consciousness, transmitted by education, popular culture and through the mass media.

The most daunting task is coming to a common understanding of the past. Whereas a shared view of the past (World War II at least) served to unify (Western) Europe after two devastating wars, history still divides these three close Asian neighbors. Reconciliation has been "thin," and the history issue continues to mar regional cooperation. To achieve a "thicker" reconciliation, they need to move beyond nation-state-oriented, binary victim/aggressor concepts and approaches, and understand reconciliation as a mutual, interactive process. Citizens' groups, NGOs, victim-activist groups -- be they domestic, transnational, or international, and regardless of political orientation -- should be more actively involved.

Second, Northeast Asian nations must recognize that elements in their shared past may contribute to promoting regional reconciliation. China, Japan, and Korea often argue over history, but it is nonetheless true that elements in their past may also contribute to a regional identity. Coping with Western influence since the 19th century is but one area of common ground. Their experience of building modern nation-states and economies is another example. There exist ample cases and instances of common experiences that can be readily used to formulate a shared view of Northeast Asia's modern history.

Third, we need to encourage and teach critical and independent thinking to young Asians about their respective pasts. In particular, we need to cultivate a mutually acceptable, new national history of each country, resituated in a shared regional identity. Nationalism, regionalism, and internationalism will always coexist, but they need not contradict one another. In this critical time of change and desire to cultivate a shared view, we need to redefine these mutually reinforcing ideologies beyond a narrow, exclusive sense of nation.

Ultimately, building a vision for Northeast Asia's future beyond narrow national and political interests requires enlightened political leadership. Unfortunately, until now, the region has not seen such a visionary leader who is committed to cultivating regional reconciliation. On the contrary, many leaders have politicized the history problem for domestic, nationalist consumption. Interpretations of the past are unavoidably political, producing divided memories, and there is strong temptation to politicize the process for current ideological purposes. However tempting, politically convenient, and even psychologically satisfying it may be to blame others, such an approach will neither heal past wounds nor provide a foundation for the future. We need political leadership that can build public support for sometimes unpopular policies aimed at regional reconciliation.

Reprinted with permission from the Korea Herald.

Dr. Karen Eggleston will join the Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center as a center fellow on July 1, 2007. Dr. Eggleston will lead the center's program on comparative health care in East Asia.

Dr. Eggleston's research focuses on comparative healthcare systems and their link to broader social protection policies during economic development and transition from central planning to market-based economies; payment incentives and their impact on healthcare insurer and provider behavior; the market structure of healthcare, including competition, integration, ownership, and healthcare productivity; and incentives surrounding health behaviors such as the spread of HIV/AIDS, overuse of antibiotics, and smoking. She studied in China for two years and was a Fulbright scholar in Korea.

Eggleston earned her Ph.D. in public policy from Harvard University in 1999. She has an M.A. in economics and another in Asian studies from the University of Hawaii, Economics (August 1995 and May 1992, respectively.) She is currently an assistant professor of economics at Tufts University in Boston. Dr. Eggleston joined the faculty at Tufts in 1999.

Currently, Dr. Eggleston is a research associate at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University and an academic program coordinator at the Kennedy School Health Care Delivery Policy Program also at Harvard. Dr. Eggleson has been a research associate at the China Academy of Health Policy (CAHP) at Peking University, Beijing, China since 2003 and in the summer of 2004 she was a consultant to the World Bank on their project on health service delivery and the rural health sector.

"Karen will be a great addition to the center," says director of the center, Gi-Wook Shin.

Those who think that dealing with North Korea is impossible are wrong. Unfortunately, those who think that it is, in fact, possible to deal with North Korea often are not much closer to the truth. The basic problem is that people of both views simply haven't figured out what it is that the North really wants.

We tend to confuse North Korea's short-term tactical goals with its broader strategic focus. We draw up list after list of things we think might appeal to Pyongyang on the assumption that these will constitute a "leveraged buyout," finally achieving what we want: the total, irreversible denuclearization of North Korea.

But this list of "carrots" (energy, food, the lifting of sanctions) does not include what the North thinks it must have. It can, of course, help keep the process on track and moving ahead, and it could help cement a final deal and hold it together through the inevitable political storms. But these things are not the ends that North Korea seeks.

North Korea feeds our misperceptions by bargaining so hard over details and raising its initial demands so high. For our part, we tend to be taken in by Western journalists' repetition of stock phrases about it being "one of the poorest nations," "one of the most isolated," "living on handouts." Accurate or not, these factors are irrelevant to Pyongyang's strategic calculations.

Those who realize that North Korea does not have visions of grand rewards sometimes move the focus to political steps that many see as "key" to a solution. These include replacing the armistice with a peace treaty, giving the North security guarantees, discussing plans for an exchange of diplomats. But these, like the economic carrots, are only shimmering, imperfect reflections of what Pyongyang is after.

What is it, then, that North Korea wants? Above all, it wants, and has pursued steadily since 1991, a long-term, strategic relationship with the United States. This has nothing to do with ideology or political philosophy. It is a cold, hard calculation based on history and the realities of geopolitics as perceived in Pyongyang. The North Koreans believe in their gut that they must buffer the heavy influence their neighbors already have, or could soon gain, over their small, weak country.

This is hard for Americans to understand, having read or heard nothing from North Korea except its propaganda, which for years seems to have called for weakening, not maintaining, the U.S. presence on the Korean Peninsula. But in fact an American departure is the last thing the North wants. Because of their pride and fear of appearing weak, however, explicitly requesting that the United States stay is one of the most difficult things for the North Koreans to do.

If the United States has leverage, it is not in its ability to supply fuel oil or grain or paper promises of nonhostility. The leverage rests in Washington's ability to convince Pyongyang of its commitment to coexist with the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, accept its system and leadership, and make room for the DPRK in an American vision of the future of Northeast Asia. Quite simply, the North Koreans believe they could be useful to the United States in a longer, larger balance-of-power game against China and Japan. The Chinese know this and say so in private.

The fundamental problem for North Korea is that the six-party talks in which it has been engaged -- and which may reconvene soon -- are a microcosm of the strategic world it most fears. Three strategic foes -- China, Japan and Russia -- sit in judgment, apply pressure and (to Pyongyang's mind) insist on the North's permanent weakness.

Denuclearization, if still achievable, can come only when North Korea sees its strategic problem solved, and that, in its view, can happen only when relations with the United States improve. For Pyongyang, that is the essence of the joint statement out of the six-party talks on Sept. 19, 2005, which included this sentence: "The DPRK and the United States undertook to respect each other's sovereignty, exist peacefully together, and take steps to normalize their relations subject to their respective bilateral policies."

And that is why the North so doggedly seeks bilateral talks with Washington. It desires not "drive-by" encounters, not a meeting here and there, but serious, sustained talks in which ideas can be explored and solutions, at last, patiently developed.

Robert Carlin, a former State Department analyst, participated in most of the U.S.-North Korea negotiations between 1993 and 2000. John Lewis, professor emeritus at Stanford University, directs projects on Asia at the university's Center for International Security and Cooperation. Both have visited North Korea many times, most recently in November.

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