DEEP KIM CHEE



In 1950, under the pretext of containing the spread of communism throughout Asia, the United States committed itself to war in Korea. A National Security Council document designated NSC-68 inadvertently released in 1975 revealed that the expansion of the military was calculated to revitalize a flagging postwar economy. According to former CIA operative Philip Agee, during the five-year period following the end of World War II, the gross national product of the United States had declined 20 percent and employment had risen to 4.7 million, up from 700,000. There was serious concern among the corporate and government elite that the economy would sink back to the level of the Depression years if drastic action was not taken.

The Korean conflict was manufactured by the Truman administration to convince Congress and the public of the necessity of a permanent war economy. The war, however, proved costly for those who were killed, wounded, orphaned, or displaced. By the time an armistice was negotiated in July 1953, 34,000 U.S. soldiers had been killed in action, another 100,000 wounded. More than a million Koreans died in the war, and much of the civilian population of South Korea suffered severe dislocation. As seen in the PBS television documentary Homes Apart: The Two Koreas (1991), the Cold War division of the country has taken an enormous personal toll on those who have been separated from family members for decades. Even today, 700,000 North Korean, 600,000 South Korean, and 45,000 U.S. troops are under arms. Rear Admiral Gene Larocque of the Center for Defense Information adds that the U.S. has a "sizable number" of nuclear weapons stockpiled in one of the most heavily fortified regions of the world.

In the aftermath of the Korean War, Christian missionaries representing a variety of denominations found the country ripe for religious conversion. Humanitarian relief efforts and the rescue of children orphaned by the war pitted Christianity against "godless communism." As a seemingly supraideological symbol, the Korean War Orphan became a useful means of filling the coffers of various Christian evangelical organizations by gaining the sympathy of childless couples and the larger public in the United States. For a time, various church and secular relief organizations did a brisk business in the Korean War orphan trade.

The U.S. military role in South Korea has played a decisive role in shaping Korean American life in other fundamental ways. Between 1962 and 1983, 85,000 Korean women emigrated to the United States, many of them as brides of American GIs. During the same period, 50,000 children-many of them "Amerasians"-were adopted by Americans. These subgroups helped form links in the kin-based chain of migration between South Korea and the United States in the postwar period. As a junior military and economic partner of the United States in East Asia, South Korea has been one of the chief contributors of Asian immigrants to the United States since 1965.

The Korean WAr was the backdrop for the popular series M*A*S*H (1972-83). The Korean War lasted three years, but M*A*S*H ran for a full eleven seasons, eight years longer than the conflict itself. Based on the film directed by Rober Altman (1970), the television version retained much of the cynical, black humor of its cinematic predecessor, owing to the combined talents of producers Gene Reynolds and Larry Gelbart.

Although set in wartime Korea, the film was implicitly understood as a condemnation of American military involvement in Vietnam. In the TV spin-off, however, the allusive connection to the war in Vietnam was so weak as to be almost absent. The program featured a crew of manic medical personnel locked in a valiant but losing battle to save human lives under less-than-ideal conditions. Brilliant writing boasting scintillating repartee, combined with an exceptionally talented ensemble of actors, elevated M*A*S*H above most other network television programs of the time. But by universalizing war and reducing it to an abstraction, the program evaded the reality of Vietnam while salving the angst of the era with its darkly humorous comedic hijinks.

Although M*A*S*H was set in Ouijonbu, South Korea, there were few Asians or Asian Americans in evidence. Apart from the occasional walk-on who served as a visual reminder that this was after all a war being fought in Asia, the only recurring Asian American character in the program was a nurse named Kellye (Kellye Nakahara) and even she played a minor role, window dressing really. During the first season only, a Korean national named Ho-Jon (Patrick Adiarte) worked as Hawkeye's (Alan Alda) well-spoken houseboy. Ho-Jon left for the United States after the ever-resourceful Hawkeye arranged for him to attend medical school with funds raised through a raffle. The theme of the white patron serving as sponsor to a promising nonwhite subordinate is not uncommon in American popular culture. Similar story lines invoking this particular manifestation of white paternalist power relationships are found in more than a few programs surveyed in these pages.

Yet another episode of M*A*S*H dramatizes the Asian penchant for pimping one of their own kind . Hawkeye, again cast as the world-weary liberal humanist intercessor, wins a Korean "moose" (GI slan for female servent) in a poker game to gain her freedom from an exploitative, racist ("The gooks; they don't mind working") enlisted man, Sergeant Baker (Paul Jenkins). The sergeant had bought the "moose" Young Hi (Virginia Lee) from her own family for $500. "Some of the locals sell their children for the money, Hawkeye," native informant Ho-Jon explains. "They have no other means." Once Young Hi has been freed, the "jead of the household" comes to reclaim her. To everyone's surprise, the family head is Young Hi's hustling, tough-talking younger brother Benny (Craig Jue), who is not yet in his teens. After Hawkeye snatches a cigarette from the boy's mouth, Benny announces his intention to resell Young Hi for up to three times her original price because she has gained valuable experience since first being sold into servitude. But thanks to coaching by Hawkeye and Trapper John (Wayne Rogers) concerning the exercise of individual rights versus familial obligation, Young Hi tells her pimp/brother to "shove off." Young Hi then promptly fixes martinis for her Yankee liberators to toast her newly won independence. Having been freed from bondage, Young Hi later writes to Hawkeye to tell him that she is now attending convent school in Seoul, training to work as a nurse's aide.

In the final season of M*A*S*H , Soon-Lee (Rosaling Chao) was written into the show as a love object for the ever-malingering Corporal Maxwell Klinger (Jamie Farr). Even the goldbricking corporal was intitled to the spoils of war in the person of a docile Asian bride. The love relationship between Klinger and Soon-Lee was spun-off into the pathetic sitcom AfterMASH (1983-84). The program focused on the postwar lives of Klinger, Dr. Sherman Potter (Harry Morgan), and Father Francis Mulcahy (William Christopher), all veterans of the 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital and now working together at a Veterans Administration hospital. In addition to the problem of readjusting to civilian life, Klinger and his war bride Soon-Lee were faced with the omnipresent reality of racism American-style.

In the episode "Klinger vs. Klinger," a patient at the V.A. hospital named McGee spies Soon-Lee bringing her husband his lunch and remarks, "You really are an operator, Klinger. You even got a little gook waiting on you hand and foot." After Soon-Lee runs away, holding back tears, a surprised McGee says, "Boy, are they touchy." Klinger angrily informs McGee that Soon-Lee is his wife and berates the insensitive patient. "You know what that kid has been through? You have any idea?" demands Klinger. "Did you give up your country, your family, your home, everything, to marry some guy who's got nothing to his name but the discharge paper it's written on?"

After their encounter with garde-variety racism, Klinger and Soon-Lee are brought even closer together as a couple. Prior to the exchange with McGee at the hospital, they had been arguing over Soon-Lee's wish to have her family join them in the United States. Klinger had also opposed her desire to get an outside job to help support the expanded household. Individual acts of anti-Asian racism notwithstanding, Soon-Lee remains convinced that the future of her family lies "in this wonderful country where even the clams are happy."

A celebratory dinner at the Potter home is the occasion for cross-cultural exchange and reconciliation in an episode of AfterMASH titled "Thanksgiving of '58." As Mildred Potter (Barbar Townsend) and Soon-Lee prepare food for the feast, the two have a discussion that confirms the commonly held notion that Asians enjoy dog meat as a source of nutrition. Soon-Lee expresses her amazement at the sheer quantity of food at the table. "Back in Korea," says Soon-Lee, "sometimes we were lucky to have a little dog with our rice." Mildred is aghast at the very thought of eating a "pet." She asks her husband Sherman whether he himself had sampled the forbidden flesh. "The locals would have the occasional Rover ragout," the doctor replies, "but we never saw any." Then follows the carefully scripted humor that defuses the racist purport of the discussion: "'Course if he U.S. Army served it, it would have been powdered dog." The Euro-American abhorrence of dog meat is set off against the resistance of Klinger's parents to their new Asian daughter-in-law. However, by the end of the episode the Klingers have dispensed with their prejudices against Soon-Lee, and the assembled guests sit at a common table to give thanks.

There are a number of operations taking place in this mercifully short-lived situation comedy that allow it to disparage Asian Americans even as it conveys seemingly generous liberal pieties. For one, by setting AfterMASH in the 1950s past, the writers are able to circumvent cunningly the problem of casting negative aspersions upon recent immigrant groups (usually identified as Cambodian or Vietnamese) who supposedly hunger for the taste of dog meat. During the early 1980s, in areas of Orange County, California, where there were high concentrations of newly arrived Southeast Asian refugess, bumper stickers urging whites to "Save a Dog, Shoot a Gook" were no an uncommon sight.

Second, Soon-Lee conforms to what has become by now a familiar social type: the Asian War Bride. The Asian War Bride is the ideal companion or wife to white American males who prefer "traditional" women untainted by such quaint notions as gender equality. In recent years, perhaps in response to conservative male backlash against the advances of the women's movement over the past twenty years, there have been any number of "dating" and marriage services that promise to deliver compliant overseas Asian women to men in search of alternatives to native-born Americans who might have been exposed to the virus of feminism.

Finally, although the writers attempt to salvage Soon-Lee's dignity in "Klinger vs. Klinger" by having McGee appear foolish and ignorant, they have simply replicated the controlling image of the Asian "mama-san" and pressed her into domestic service for the benefit of Maxwell Klinger, a loser to any potential spouse but an impoverished Korean immigrant woman. By the standards of the dominant WASP society, the Lebanese American former GI is just another swarht ethnic only slightly more acceptable than a nonwhite individual. But by the standards of a desparate Korean war bride, Klinger is a heroic American savior.

In sum, AfterMASH , like its parent program M*A*S*H , exploits the historical experience of Asians (as in the case of Soon-Lee Klinger) caught in the vise of American militarism by implying that their lives actually have been bettered by the invasion, occupation, and destruction of their native countries. After all, so it might be rationalized, if it were not for the war Soon-Lee Klinger would still be back in Korea, foraging for a little dog meat to eat with her bowl of rice rather than enjoying the bounty of the American way of life.