President Donald Trump's now-notorious Tuesday tweet about his "Nuclear Button" - the capital letters are his - has prompted, as one might expect, a lot of tortured analysis, frenzied speculation and existential despair:
"North Korean Leader Kim Jong Un just stated that the "Nuclear Button is on his desk at all times." Will someone from his depleted and food starved regime please inform him that I too have a Nuclear Button, but it is a much bigger & more powerful one than his, and my Button works!"
Just to avoid any misunderstandings up front: Yes, it was stupid. Yes, we shouldn't talk about nukes this way. And yes, the size of the button doesn't matter.
Yet for all its frantic cogitation on the matter, the American media still seems to be leaving out one gigantic facet of the story: What about the South Koreans?
At the risk of offending some of my friends in Korea, theirs is a country that we Americans tend to forget too often. Few of us seem to grasp that South Korea is a thriving democracy and an industrial powerhouse of 50 million people that has been one of our closest allies for the past seven decades. Thirty-six thousand U.S. troops died helping the United Nations defend the South from northern aggression in 1950-1953. None of which, of course, prevents us from indulging in our habitual obliviousness toward yet another faraway country.
Still, Trump's casual blustering with nukes stands out even by our dismal geographical standards. His tweet - which of course dramatically simplifies the actual command procedure required to launch nukes anywhere in the world - also blithely bumbles over the political or strategic realities of the Korean Peninsula, factors a competent leader would probably want to consider before unleashing a devastating war in Northeast Asia.
The simple fact of the matter - and it can't be repeated enough - is that North Korea is still a long way from being able to wage war against the continental United States. If war begins, it's not heartland Americans who will pay the price. It's South Koreans.
Unless you've been to the military line of demarcation that divides North and South Korea - and which Trump managed to miss on his recent trip to the peninsula - you might find it hard to imagine how entangled the two countries' fates remain today. Greater Seoul, a megalopolis of 25 million people, is just 35 minutes away from the border with the North - one reason that a Pentagon war game reportedly determined that the onset of war would kill 20,000 people in the South each day it continued.