Deconstructing MacArthur

Just to the northwest of Dallas sits the suburb of Irving. One of its high schools is named after Douglas MacArthur. This is far from unique since many other American cities have schools and streets named in honor of the old general. He graduated from West Point at the top of his class in 1903 and did not retire until half a century later. MacArthur is an iconic figure—admired, revered and exalted—but it is my solemn duty to take him down a notch.

He fought bravely in World War I. Then, as the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers he oversaw the occupation and reordering of Japan after World War II. Most historians are in agreement that MacArthur did a fine job. However, he essentially chose to give Hirohito a pass for his role in Japan’s horrific and large-scale crimes. Letting him remain on the throne seems dubious to me. Far better it would have been to eliminate the Emperor-worship and face the unpleasant facts of what Japan had done over the previous few decades to Korea, China, the Philippines, Vietnam, the United States and other countries. Not only did Hirohito know what was going on, he fully approved and gave orders to Tojo and his other generals.

My concern is not so much MacArthur’s actions vis-à-vis Japan as his performance during the Korean War. Soon after Kim Il-Sung sent his Russian-equipped army over the 38th parallel on June 25, 1950, MacArthur was named Commander-in-Chief of the U.N. forces even though he remained in Tokyo. We all know how the Incheon Landing three months later turned the tide of the war, enabling U.N. soldiers to break out of the Busan Perimeter and charge north. Many military men had advised against the Incheon Landing, but it was a great success and credit must be given to MacArthur.

The North Koreans, perplexed that no uprising in support of Kim had taken place in the South, were soon on the run. They were being killed and imprisoned in large numbers, and could do nothing to prevent the recapture of Seoul. U.N. forces came to the erstwhile border and did not stop; orders from Washington were fuzzy, and the vainglorious MacArthur was not inclined to listen to other people—whether military or civilian. The soldiers and Marines kept going north. Soon Pyongyang was firmly in their hands, and Kim was asking Mao Zedong for permission to establish a government-in-exile in China. 

I realize that I am engaging in revisionist history here, but perhaps MacArthur should have stopped to consolidate the situation at the narrow neck of the peninsula. He then had the opportunity to absorb a significant chunk of real estate into the Republic of Korea. Such a choice would have been a half-measure and contrary to the natural tendency of soldiers to keep advancing when the enemy is in hasty retreat. And we can be sure that never in a million years would South Korean President Syngman Rhee have given his consent.

One problem was that MacArthur chose to be surrounded by sycophants who wanted nothing more than to gain the great man's favor. It has been said that he did not have a staff so much as a court; MacArthur, naturally, was the king. He liked praise and did not bear fools—or those who disagreed with him—lightly.

Nevertheless, MacArthur was given intelligence reports of a massive Chinese buildup just over the Yalu River, and he knew that Mao was itching for the chance to slug it out with the U.S., which had backed Chiang Kai-Shek in the recently concluded Chinese civil war. Full of haughty ideas about his army's vast superiority to the Chinese, he would not listen to contrary advice. MacArthur, who fancied himself an expert on "the Oriental mind," said that if the Chinese dared to fight they would rue the day. General Peng Dehuai set a stealthy trap, and when the Americans arrived in the northern provinces the Chinese pounced. What resulted was probably the worst defeat in U.S. military history. Thousands died, and many others were captured at Unsan, the Chosin Reservoir and other battles, spending the next two years undergoing torture and “re-education” in Chinese and North Korean prisons.

Soon the bloodied U.N. forces were speeding south, and they did not halt at Pyongyang. Kim was back in town, and he let people know who was in charge. The 38th parallel was essentially reestablished as the border, and the war dragged on until the summer of 1953 when a peace treaty was signed. MacArthur was long gone by then, having been recalled by President Harry Truman on April 11, 1951. (He was replaced by General Matthew Ridgeway, a drastic improvement who, in retrospect, should have been in charge from the beginning.) The general, who recklessly urged use of the atomic bomb on China, had been snubbing Truman for a long time and alienating many of his military colleagues. He refused to take responsibility for the failed drive to the border of China and North Korea, and he made numerous other blunders that cost lives and prolonged the war. In fact, he was fortunate not to be the subject of court-martial proceedings. When MacArthur returned to the USA—almost incredibly, for the first time since 1937—he hoped to run for president in 1952 but found he had scant political support.

I am far less interested in MacArthur's legacy than in Korea. Had he been wiser and more prudent, the ROK would have been expanded and, equally important, Kim would have been isolated in a far-north buffer zone. His sponsors, Mao of China and Joseph Stalin of the USSR, would have or at least might have grasped that he was unworthy of their ongoing sustenance. A lot of suffering would have been alleviated in the process. It seems quite possible that the peaceful unification of North and South Korea would have taken place a long time ago.