It's time to revise the U.S.-Japan security relationship

Critics long have charged that Washington's military commitments to wealthy allies in Western Europe and East Asia encourage those nations to "free ride" on the U.S. security guarantee. The accuracy of such allegations was demonstrated with unusual clarity in early 1995 when Assistant Secretary of Defense Joseph Nye unveiled his department's latest East Asia strategy report, which affirmed that the U.S. would keep approximately 100,000 troops in East Asia indefinitely. Five days later, Japan's Kyodo News Service announced that the Japanese government hoped to reduce its troop levels and weapons by approximately 20% and cut military spending over the next five years.

Given the threats in East Asia - North Korea's attempt to acquire nuclear weapons, China's increasingly assertive behavior, and the continuing political instability in Russia - it is unlikely that Tokyo would decide to cut its already modest military forces and budgets were it not for Washington's willingness to underwrite Japan's defense. The attitude expressed in an editorial in the influential Asahi Shimbun, that Japan should "aim at being a conscientious-objector nation," would be difficult to sustain if Japan had to be responsible for its own safety. Hisahiko Okazaki, Japan's former ambassador to Thailand, described a more probable reaction. If the U.S. alliance did not exist and Japan's survival were at stake, "because of a threat from the Russians, the North Koreans, or the Chinese," Japan would build a strong military force for itself. Just as domestic welfare expenditures foster an unhealthy dependent mentality and discourage initiative on the part of recipients, so, too, do international military welfare subsidies. Nye's announcement reassured Japanese officials that it was safe for their country to continue its free-riding habits.

Japanese policymakers, of course, vehemently deny that their nation is free riding. They point out that their government pays most of the costs of the U.S. military units stationed on Japanese territory and that the amount of that host-nation support has been rising steadily for several years - reaching more than $5,000,000,000 in 1995. They also note that Japan's actions are in marked contrast to the parsimonious behavior of Washington's other allies, including the NATO members and South Korea.

Although it is true that Japan's host-nation support is substantial, the subtle implication that the alliance is nearly cost-free to America is misleading on several counts. First, the Japanese contention that the financial support amounts to more than 70% of the cost of the forces stationed there is inaccurate. That percentage does not include the salaries of the military personnel - the largest single expense. Including salaries in the calculation reduces Japan's support to barely 50%.

Second, the $5,000,000,000 in host-nation contributions include such expenses as local labor and utility costs of maintaining U.S. forces as well as the construction of new facilities - approximately $1,000,000,000. Tokyo also funds the leases for land used by those forces and incurs what the Pentagon describes as "indirect costs," including waived land use fees, foregone taxes, tolls, customs, and payments to local communities affected by American bases.

Third, Tokyo hardly volunteered to increase its support payments out of a spirit of alliance solidarity, much less altruism. The Japanese acceded in January, 1991, only with great reluctance following a series of caustic Congressional hearings and reports on the "burden-sharing" issue. For example, a report issued by a special House burden-sharing panel chaired by Rep. Patricia Schroeder (D.-Colo.) suggested that trade sanctions be imposed on Japanese exports to the U.S. if Japan did not agree to pay more for the American troop presence, and an increasingly angry Congress seemed receptive to that proposal.

Finally, even if it is conceded that Japan's host-nation support is significant, that reimbursement represents just a small fraction of the over-all cost of America's East Asian security commitments, which primarily benefit Japan and South Korea. To measure the total cost, it is necessary to consider not just the expense of the forces stationed in those two countries, but that of the air, ground, and naval units that exist to reinforce the forward-deployed forces if trouble breaks out in the region. Measured in that way, the cost of Washington's East Asian obligations is nearly $40,000,000,000 a year.

The extent of Japanese free riding is even more apparent when one examines the defense budgets of the two countries. The U.S. military budget is nearly six times Japan's. It costs each American more than $1,000 a year to support the military; each Japanese, less than $360. Yet, America's population is barely twice that of Japan, and its economy is 30% larger.

The financial cost to American taxpayers of Japan's free riding is not the most troublesome consequence of Washington's East Asian policy. Even more disquieting are the risks the U.S. continues to incur because of its role as the guarantor of East Asia's security and stability - dangers that normally would be borne primarily by Japan and other regional powers.

It has become all too apparent that Japanese officials are content to let the U.S. continue bearing disproportionate risks and responsibilities. Japan's anemic military budget is not the only indication of such intent. Equally significant is the configuration of its defense forces. Japan remains the most lightly armed of the major powers in the international system, and noticeably absent from its inventory are bombers, short- or intermediate-range missiles, aircraft carriers, and other weapons systems that would be capable of projecting force outside the immediate vicinity of the Japanese archipelago.

The desire to have Japan militarily dependent on the U.S. has been a consistent feature of American policy for five decades. Ever since the end of World War II, Washington repeatedly has discouraged Japan from taking significant military initiatives - especially independent ones. The post-world War II occupation government, led by Gen. Douglas MacArthur, engaged in a comprehensive effort to root out all vestiges of Japanese militarism. One of MacArthur's first actions was to supervise the complete disarmament and demobilization of Japan's armed forces in accordance with the explicit wishes of the Allied leaders at the Potsdam meeting. Pres. Harry Truman's directive to MacArthur implementing the Potsdam Declaration stated, "Japan is not to have an Army, Navy, Air Force, Secret Police organization, or civil aviation."

Washington's goal of keeping Japan demilitarized carried over into the Cold War period, despite concern about securing allies to help contain Soviet power. The 1951 U.S.-Japan security treaty was blatantly one-sided: America would protect a pacifist and largely disarmed Japan from aggression by the Soviet Union or China.

In essence, Washington assumed primary responsibility for Japans conventional defense and exclusive responsibility for nuclear deterrence. Japan was to provide some help in repelling conventional attacks on its territory, but had no role in assisting in the defense of the U.S. The 1960 security treaty that replaced the 1951 document created a more credible facade of mutuality, but did not alter the substance of the relationship in any meaningful way. Washington neither sought nor welcomed a powerful Japanese military partner.

The aversion to war, assiduously cultivated by American political and military leaders during the late 1940s and early 1950s, still is shared by a significant percentage of the Japanese public. Relying on the U.S. for its defense enabled Japan to replace the imperialist and militarist values that had dominated its society in the years before World War II with those that emphasized pacifism, democracy, and economic success. American statesmen who sought to create a new Japan dedicated to peaceful commercial pursuits succeeded way beyond their expectations.

Eschewing a large military role also has served more tangible Japanese interests. Willingness to be a protectorate of the U.S. throughout the Cold War was an economic bonanza for Tokyo. Japan was able to concentrate on its recovery from World War II and, later, to build one of the most modern and dynamic economies in the world instead of spending its resources on armed forces. The U.S. defense subsidy since the conclusion of the security treaty in 1951 has saved Japanese taxpayers more than $900,000,000,000. That figure, in fact, may be conservative. There are some economies of scale in having the U.S. - with its large military infrastructure for missions around the world - provide protection for Japan. If Tokyo had needed to build the forces necessary to replace that protection fully, it probably would have cost considerably more than the annual price tag of the American shield. From the standpoint of minimizing military expenditures, being a U.S. dependent has been very good for Japan.

Japanese officials determined to preserve the defense subsidy frequently encourage U.S. fears about a rearmed Japan. It would not be in America's best interests for Japan to strengthen its forces and play a more active military role, they insist. Some even warn that the termination of the alliance would play into die hands of militarist and ultranationalist elements in Japan. Those who use a "stop us before we conquer again" argument probably do so because they know it is likely to get the desired reaction from their American counterparts and minimize the chances the U.S. security shield will be withdrawn.

Not only is it demeaning for Japanese representatives to imply that their country can not be trusted, it could prove to be a disastrous ploy in the long run. There already is a strong current of opinion among members of the American foreign policy and political communities as well as the general public that regards Japan as an adversary, especially in economic matters. Japanese officials ought to ponder whether it really is a good idea to strengthen that tendency by suggesting that such distrust may be warranted.

American officials and foreign policy experts who insist on keeping Japan militarily dependent rarely admit publicly that the U.S. simply does not trust Japan. Instead, they contend that any significant Japanese rearmament or a more assertive policy by Tokyo would alarm Japan's East Asian neighbors, thereby producing a regional arms race and dangerous instability. Pres. Ronald Reagan's national security adviser, Richard V. Allen, summarized that attitude when he noted that the nations of East Asia "have painful, vivid memories of Japanese military prowess in the 1930s and 1940s." Allen concluded, "If the United States disengages, or is seen to be disengaging, albeit slowly, from Asia, and if Japan continues its dynamic regional expansion, the effect may be either that of a vacuum to be filled or a simple lateral replacement of one influence by another. I can not see how this will benefit U.S. interests, or that of our non-Japanese allies add friends in the region."

Although it would be unwise to discount the apprehension with which Japan is regarded throughout East Asia, the specter of a larger Japanese military role may be less traumatic for the nations of East Asia than it might at first appear. Japanese leaders are mindful of the continuing suspicions harbored by their neighbors. It is no accident that a large portion of Tokyo's foreign aid budget has been given to the countries occupied by Japanese forces during World War II, and the Japanese are taking other steps to alleviate concerns and mend relations with neighboring states.

Moreover, with the collapse of the Soviet Union, Japan probably can protect its security interests without a massive rearmament effort. A modest raise in military spending, say to 1.5% of GDP, might be sufficient, and only the most paranoid would be alarmed by a buildup of that magnitude. Such an increase would produce air and naval capabilities sufficient for a more credible, wide-ranging Japanese security role, but hardly would be enough for a new wave of imperialisms - especially if Japan was careful not to expand its ground forces greatly. Without a potential army of occupation, Tokyo clearly would lack the ability to subjugate its neighbors, and the existing ground Self-Defense Force, some 150,000 active duty personnel, obviously is far from being such a force.

The most worrisome development would be a decision by Tokyo to acquire nuclear weapons. That possibility can not be ruled out in the long term - specially if North Korea or other aggressive or unstable regimes develop op nuclear arsenals - but it is not inevitable. The Japanese public has a pronounced dislike of nuclear weapons, and the memories of Hiroshima and Nagasaki are not likely to fade soon. In addition, given the technological sophistication that Japan can bring to bear on the development of its military forces, Tokyo might conclude that an arsenal of precision-guided weapons, together with appropriate aircraft and missile delivery systems (and comprehensive air and missile defenses), would be sufficient to counter the nuclear arsenals of its neighbors. As the Persian Gulf War demonstrated, precision-guided conventional weapons can be extremely effective.

Finally, Japan's neighbors should realize that Japanese public opinion will help restrain any aggressive ambitions that might be harbored by a future political leader. A public that for five decades has resisted not only militarism, but even modest expansions of Japan's military role, is not likely to countenance a huge military buildup and an expansionist binge. Indeed, the opposite problem is a more legitimate concern: public opposition may continue to inhibit Japan from doing enough to protect its own security interests.

East Asian and U.S. officials must move beyond the simplistic assumption that Japan's military role inevitably must be one of extremes - either the rampant imperialism of a half-century ago or the self-effacing dependence of the post-World War II era. It is not only possible, but probable, that, left to its own devices, modern Japan would play a reasonably prudent role somewhere between those two extremes and act as a typical prosperous, conservative great power in the international system.

Nevertheless, there is little doubt that the smaller nations of East Asia would prefer the current arrangement, with the U.S. as regional protector. The pertinent question from the standpoint of U.S. foreign policy should not be whether the status quo is more comfortable for the regional states, but whether it is in the best interests of the American people. It is difficult to justify preserving expensive military commitments indefinitely merely to spare Japan and its neighbors the difficulties of confronting and overcoming old animosities. Washington can not permit its policy in East Asia to be held hostage by the ghosts of World War II.

Washington should encourage Japan to assume a more active and assertive security role. America's over-all objective should be a reasonably stable balance of power among the principal East Asian nations. An activist Japan is an essential part, indeed the single most important component, of that balance-of-power system. For instance, Japan is the sole power - other than the U.S. - that will be capable of being a strategic counterweight to China in the coming decades (barring an unexpectedly rapid Russian recovery).

By persisting in their strategy toward Japan, U.S. policymakers ignore a growing number of warning signals in both countries that a security relationship between America as patron and Japan as dependent is not sustainable. Japanese public annoyance at the U.S. is rising and is manifested in a variety of ways. Anger about escalating American demands on the trade front is the most obvious, but there are others. There is, for example, a growing awareness of the implicit anti-Japan motives underlying Washington's smothering strategy and the U.S. insistence on maintaining a large military presence in East Asia despite the end of the Cold War. That awareness and the resentment it produces no longer are confined to an ultranationalist political fringe in Japan.

Public sentiment in the U.S. toward Japan likewise has become more critical, if not negative, in recent years. An especially lethal potential for an acrimonious disruption in the U.S.-Japanese relationship exists if Americans who are angry about trade matters begin to link that issue to Japanese free riding on defense. By clinging tenaciously to the status quo, American policymakers risk an abrupt and nasty rupture in the alliance that could poison the entire range of American-Japanese relations and create the dangerous power vacuum in East Asia that Washington has tried so hard to prevent.

Three scenarios for disaster

That rupture could occur in any of three ways. The most likely danger is that the growing array of trade disputes between the U.S. and Japan will spill over into the security realm. American advocates of a confrontational trade policy will not be content indefinitely to subsidize the defense of a nation they believe engages in unfair trade practices. Since Tokyo shows a rapidly decreasing inclination to capitulate to Washington's escalating demands for trade concessions, the potential for an unpleasant breach is obvious.

Another scenario would be the outbreak of a conflict somewhere in East Asia that did not include an attack on Japan. Japanese officials have made it clear that their country merely would hold America's coat while U.S. forces intervened to restore peace. To be viable, an alliance must be of unquestioned value to both parties if deterrence fails and a war has to be waged. An arrangement in which one party must assume most of the burden in blood and costs while the other party merely reaps the benefits is unstable as well as unjust. Yet, that is the reality of the U.S.-Japanese alliance, and an East Asian military crisis immediately would expose that fact.

A third possibility for an unexpected termination of the relationship would be a swift in domestic Japanese political sentiment. That could take several forms: public anger at Japan's military dependence and vulnerability; growing recognition that the U.S. security commitment at least partly is motivated by American distrust of Japan, or a decision by Japan's political elite that the U.S. security shield no longer provides benefits that outweigh the obstacles it creates to Tokyo's pursuit of great-power status. In any of those cases, the initiative for terminating the alliance would come from the Japanese side, and bewildered U.S. leaders could do little more than complain about Japan's ingratitude and wonder what went wrong.

Instead of persisting in a desperate effort to preserve the status quo, with America as military patron and Japan as Washington's security dependent, U.S. policymakers should chart a new course. They need to foster a relationship that is based on the realities of the post-Cold War world, not a bygone era in which Japan lacked the economic strength or the political confidence to play an assertive, independent role in international affairs and the emotional wounds of World War II still were fresh. The goal should be a mature relationship between equals - one recognizing that Japan is a great power in every respect.

Several steps must be taken to implement truly substantive changes. First, the U.S. should inform Japan that it intends to withdraw its forces from Japanese territory over the next five years and that it will renounce the security treaty two years later. At that point, Japan will be expected to provide entirely for its own defense. Washington should implement its withdrawal strategy without rancor and state explicitly that the move is not motivated by traditional complaints about burden sharing or by the more recent disputes over trade. Indeed, every effort should be made to adopt a less confrontational policy on trade issues. Under no circumstances should there be any suggestion that Washington is using the security commitment as a bargaining chip. It would be ill-advised to imply that, if sufficient Japanese concessions were forthcoming on trade matters, the U.S. would maintain the defense shield, and conversely, if Tokyo was recalcitrant, the shield would be withdrawn. That approach would be a blueprint for Japanese resentment, and the damage to relations could last decades.

Second, Washington should indicate to Tokyo that it no longer objects to Japan's assuming a more active political and military posture in East Asia. The U.S. ought to adopt the position that, as the principal great power in the region, Japan will be expected to help stabilize East Asia, contribute to the resolution of disputes, and contain disruptive or expansionist threats that might emerge. Washington also should use its diplomatic influence to encourage political and security cooperation between Japan and its neighbors, but U.S. policymakers must not let East Asian apprehension about a more assertive Japan dictate American policy and keep the U.S. in its role as regional policeman. Regarding matters beyond East Asia, the U.S. should express its full support for international recognition of Japan's status as a global great power, including endorsing Tokyo's goal of a permanent seat on the UN Security Council.

Third, discussions should begin immediately about a new, more limited security relationship. There are important American economic interests in East Asia and clearly, no one in the U.S. should want to see an expansionist power dominate the region, given the adverse security implications of such a development. America's over-all policy goal should be a relatively stable balance of power in East Asia. Japanese and American security interests are likely to overlap in the coming decades, and it is reasonable to explore avenues of cooperation in those areas where there is a sufficient convergence of interests. That cooperation, however, should not take the form of a new alliance. An ongoing security dialogue and occasional joint military exercises would be more appropriate. Elaborate, formal treaty commitments are a bad idea in general. They are excessively rigid and can lock the U.S. into commitments that may make sense under one set of conditions, but become ill-advised or even counterproductive when conditions change.

America's new East Asian policy should envision Japan playing the role of first among equals and being the front-line state for promoting stability. That is not to say that the U.S. should take no interest in the region, withdraw its forces to Seattle and San Diego, and adopt a Fortress America strategy, Members of the U.S. political elite have an unfortunate habit of branding all proposals for meaningful foreign policy change as harbingers of isolationism.

America has important East Asian interests. Geographic factors along make the U.S. a Pacific, although not an East Asian, power. Portions of Alaska extend into the northwest Pacific; Hawaii is nearly midpoint in that ocean; and Guam and other important territorial possessions are in the westcentral Pacific. Those political and security interests, combined with growing economic ties to East Asia, mean that the U.S. can not be indifferent to the region's fate. In particular, a successful campaign by an aggressive expansionist power to dominate East Asia would pose a significant threat to America's security and well-being.

Nevertheless, having some interests in the region and being willing to make a modest contribution to its stability are a far cry from volunteering to be point man in every crisis. America can protect its core interests with a significantly reduced military presence based in Guam Wake, Midway, and other locations in the central and west-central Pacific.

COPYRIGHT 1997 Society for the Advancement of Education
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