Coral, one of the top British bookmakers, has Donald Trump and Kim Jong Un as favorites — at 2/1 odds — to win the Nobel Peace Prize this year. They’re ahead of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, Pope Francis and other potential winners. If their talks go as well as Friday’s summit between Kim and his South Korean counterpart Moon Jae-in, and peace is restored to the Korean peninsula, they’ll both deserve it.
There’s a lesson in this, and it’s about more than “normalization” — a phrase we’ve been endlessly cautioned to avoid with both Kim and Trump. The nastiest, most distasteful people, even ruthless dictators and mass murderers, can and should be celebrated for specific actions that make the world a safer place. In some cases, these actions will — and should — form their principal legacy.
Take Winston Churchill. Reacting to the 2017 movie “Darkest Hour,” which presented the British war leader as a brilliant, idiosyncratic contrarian battling an anemic elite to end Nazi appeasement, Shashi Tharoor, head of the Indian Parliament’s Foreign Affairs Committee wrote provocatively in The Washington Post: “He was one of the great mass murderers of the 20th century, yet is the only one, unlike Hitler and Stalin, to have escaped historical odium in the West.” He cataloged scorched earth tactics against rebels in the British colonies, a part in engineering the 1943 Bengal famine, and the firebombing of Dresden in 1945.
The precise accusations and their context are for historians to argue about. Churchill is rightly lionized for standing up to the Nazis, his greatest achievement; it doesn’t just tip the scale in his favor when weighed against his dark side — for many whose family histories would have ended or taken a gloomy direction under victorious Nazis, it tends to wipe the slate clean.
Similarly, one could argue that nothing that has happened since the millennium could match a potential Korean peace deal. The conflict that split Korea is probably the biggest piece of unfinished 20th-century business that carried over into this century. It began in 1948, grew into a hot proxy war between the Soviet Union and the US; dragged China in; and continued to its current, arguably even more complex phase. It has created one of the last divided nations on earth, ruled by regimes that couldn’t be more different — the South Korean technocracy and the North Korean ideological state driven by a cult of personality.
It also continues to stand as a lasting consequence of the old US. approach to war, with the merciless carpet-bombing that Japan and Germany have worked to forgive but the North Korean regime has made sure its citizens continue to hold against the US.
Perhaps the breathless coverage of the talks between Kim and Moon, their smiles and handshakes, and their seemingly unstaged forays to the opposite sides of the world’s most fortified border is premature. Perhaps Kim’s words about the start of “a new history” and “an age of peace” are just rhetoric meant to get the West to soften sanctions against North Korea in exchange for some meaningless promises.
North Korean hackers have just been linked to a massive worldwide cyberattack meant to steal data about Western critical infrastructure and key industries. And Kim is still the same ruler who has used torture, hard labor, relentless propaganda and dehumanizing social practices to beat his subjects into submission, as his father and grandfather had done before him. There’s no reason why he should suddenly stop and act more like the popular Swiss private school student he once was. It’s difficult to see how he can afford to without losing power.
Trump is also still Trump. He mocked Kim as “Little Rocket Man,” then switched seamlessly to a respectful tone — all without displaying any understanding of the Korean issue’s complexities.
So don’t count on me to scowl at the “normalization” of Trump and Kim. Peace is fragile. It’s also the ultimate achievement for a leader. Those who attain it are heroes, whatever else they are.
Bloomberg
