Korea’s division followed Koreans’ division. Syria may follow suit

If such a return were feasible, they would not have reached this level of detachment, made these sacrifices, resisted submission, or accepted the hardships of exile.

If a return were feasible, they may well have conceded by now, accepting their defeat by the regime and looking back on the last 13 years as but a fleeting episode in their political history, precisely as Turkey's current political strategy appears to assume.

Mirrored in Korea

Nearly a century ago, a unified Korea faced a similar rift. Combined with surrounding international and regional rivalries, it eventually culminated in the historic geographical and political division of the Korean Peninsula.

Despite more than a century of official historical narratives and propaganda from both Korean states, neither has succeeded in fully explaining or understanding the root causes of this profound division without acknowledging the primary and foundational factors that led to it.

The North Korean claim that its southern counterpart is "merely an imperialist project" is unfounded, just as South Korea's argument that the problem in the North arises solely from a "dictatorial regime" is also inaccurate.

Ridding the emperors

Akin to the Syrian story, a peasant revolution erupted in the southern Korean kingdom in the late 19th century, challenging the despotic rule of the last emperors of the Joseon Dynasty, who had held power for over five centuries.

During this time, the emperors had isolated Koreans from external developments. In its final two centuries, the dynasty sought to preserve its authority by manipulating the balance of power among the major surrounding nations—Japan, China, and Russia, and later, colonial Britain and France.

The southern rebels sought support from China, and when China intervened, it clashed with Japan, which viewed China's involvement as a threat to the regional balance.

A brutal war erupted between Japan and China in the summer of 1894, fought on Korean soil, where the Japanese and Korean armies killed tens of thousands of southern inhabitants and devastated most of the villages and agricultural landscape.

Ridding the Japanese

The war concluded after a year, with Japan dominant over Korea, and China signing the Treaty of Shimonoseki, agreeing not to support the Korean rebels. Just six days later, Russia, France, and Britain demanded that Japan relinquish the Liaodong Peninsula.

Each of these countries had vested interests in China: Britain, following decades of the Opium Wars; Russia, to extend the railways through Chinese Manchuria to Siberia; and France, to spread Catholicism in Korea.

Based on these developments, Korean Queen Min sought Russian support to counter Japanese influence. This led to her assassination by Japanese Governor Miura Goro. After her death, her husband, the king, sought refuge at the Russian mission.

Russia's growing political influence over Korea eventually became the catalyst for the Russo-Japanese War less than a decade later. Korea became the battleground, and the Korean population was deeply divided over it.

Split on progress

More than 250,000 Koreans collaborated with Japanese forces. They felt Japan's modernisation and ties to the West would bring progress and an end to Korea's traditional political and religious structures.

Conversely, those loyal to the monarchy and traditional religious practices pinned their hopes on Russian influence, but the war ended with Japan victorious. It led to Korea becoming a Japanese protectorate.

A decade later, when the communist revolution erupted in Russia, it attracted conservative Koreans determined to end Japanese influence, and to eliminate the 'Korean people classes' embracing Western and Japanese modernisation.

This deepening division laid the groundwork for a conflict that Koreans could bridge neither politically nor resolve militarily, ultimately leading to the devastating wars of the mid-20th century.

Becoming two peoples

Thus, at its core, Korea became two states and two peoples, each with its own distinct identity, narrative, national interpretation, historical understanding, and vision.

The gulf between them could no longer be bridged by, either by cultural initiatives, promotional campaigns, personal reconciliation, or eloquent words.

What began as a small and seemingly transient moment of transformation and divergence ultimately grew into the foundation for two distinct peoples, helped by regional dynamics and Korea being at the crossroads of major powers' interests.

Today, in Syria, a similar situation is unfolding. The Syrian regime does not expect to get those 15 million Syrians back. They remain outside its control and are happy to be so, building new lives and setting down new roots elsewhere.

This regime must now attempt to reclaim people currently revolting against it, like the once-loyal Druze community of the city of Suwayda, who began protesting against Assad a year ago.

Syrians today stand on the brink of becoming two peoples, or perhaps many peoples. There may be token gestures of reconciliation on a hyper-local level, but these will largely be for promotional purposes.

Today, anything would fall far short of addressing the future of millions who have shed blood and transformed their lives so that outcomes affecting Syrians will no longer be dictated by decisions made in foreign ministers' salons.