"On March 5, 1953, Joseph Stalin died, and within weeks the Politburo of the Soviet Communist Party voted that the war in Korea should be ended. Mao Zedong received the news with dismay, but he knew that his army could not continue the war without Soviet assistance. With a speed that amazed the negotiating teams on both sides, the Chinese accepted voluntary repatriation. "
The Chinese need not have worried, for both Eisenhower and secretary of state-designate Dulles viewed continuation of the Korean War as incompatible with U.S. national security interests. In their view the People’s Republic of China was indeed the enemy in Asia, but Korea was only one theatre in the struggle. They also knew that the voting public’s support for the war had thinned throughout 1952 as the talking and fighting continued abroad and the talking and taxing continued at home. As for the negotiations, Dulles conceded the communists’ point that voluntary repatriation should involve screening by an international agency, not just U.S.-ROK teams. When the UN and the International Committee of the Red Cross called for an exchange of sick and disabled POWs as a goodwill gesture, Eisenhower approved.
Sino-American Confrontation The United States was a passive observer to these internal Communist machinations. It explored no middle ground between stopping at the 38th parallel and the unification of Korea, and ignored the series of Chinese warnings about the consequences of crossing that line. Acheson puzzlingly did not consider them official communications and thought they could be ignored. He probably thought he could face Mao down. None of the many documents published to date by all sides reveals any serious discussion of a diplomatic option by any of the parties. The many meetings of Zhou with the Central Military Commission or the Politburo reveal no such intent. Contrary to popular perception, Beijing’s “warning” to Washington not to cross the 38th parallel was almost certainly a diversionary tactic. By that point, Mao had already sent ethnic-Korean PLA troops from Manchuria to Korea to assist the North Koreans, moved a significant military force away from Taiwan and toward the Korean border, and promised Chinese support to Stalin and Kim. The only chance that might have existed to avoid immediate U.S.-China combat can be found in instructions Mao sent in a message to Zhou, still in Moscow, about his strategic design on October 14, as Chinese troops were preparing to cross the Korean border: Our troops will continue improving [their] defense works if they have enough time. If the enemy tenaciously defends Pyongyang and Wonsan and does not advance [north] in the next six months, our troops will not attack Pyongyang and Wonsan. Our troops will attack Pyongyang and Wonsan only when they are well equipped and trained, and have clear superiority over the enemy in both air and ground forces. In short, we will not talk about waging offensives for six months.58 There was no chance, of course, that in six months China could have achieved clear superiority in either category. Had American forces stopped at the line, from Pyongyang to Wonsan (the narrow neck of the Korean Peninsula), would that have created a buffer zone to meet Mao’s strategic concern? Would some American diplomatic move toward Beijing have made any difference? Would Mao have been satisfied with using his presence in Korea to reequip his forces? Perhaps the six-month pause Mao mentioned to Zhou would have provided an occasion for diplomatic contact, for military warnings, or for Mao or Stalin to change his mind. On the other hand, a buffer zone on hitherto Communist territory was almost certainly not Mao’s idea of his revolutionary or strategic duty. Still he was enough of a Sun Tzu disciple to pursue seemingly contradictory strategies simultaneously. The United States, in any event, had no such capacity. It opted for a U.N.- endorsed demarcation line along the Yalu over what it could protect with its own forces and its own diplomacy along the narrow neck of the Korean Peninsula. In this manner, each side of the triangular relationship moved toward a war with the makings of a global conflict. The battle lines moved back and forth. Chinese forces took Seoul but were driven back until a military stalemate settled over the combat zone within the framework of armistice negotiations lasting nearly two years, during which American forces refrained from offensive operations—the almost ideal outcome from the Soviet point of view. The Soviet advice throughout was to drag out the negotiations, and therefore the war, as long as possible. An armistice agreement emerged on July 27, 1953, settling essentially along the prewar line of the 38th parallel. None of the participants achieved all of its aims. For the United States, the armistice agreement realized the purpose for which it had entered the war: it denied success to the North Korean aggression; but it had, at the same time, enabled China, at a moment of great weakness, to fight the nuclear superpower to a standstill and oblige it to retreat from its furthest advance. It preserved American credibility in protecting allies but at the cost of incipient allied revolt and domestic discord. Observers could not fail to remember the debate that had developed in the United States over war aims. General MacArthur, applying traditional maxims, sought victory; the administration, interpreting the war as a feint to lure America into Asia— which was surely Stalin’s strategy—was prepared to settle for a military draw (and probably a long-term political setback), the first such outcome in a war fought by America. The inability to harmonize political and military goals may have tempted other Asian challengers to believe in America’s domestic vulnerability to wars without clear-cut military outcomes—a dilemma that reappeared with a vengeance in the vortex of Vietnam a decade later. Nor can Beijing be said to have achieved all its objectives, at least in conventional military terms. Mao did not succeed in liberating all of Korea from “American imperialism,” as Chinese propaganda claimed initially. But he had gone to war for larger and in some ways more abstract, even romantic, aims: to test the “New China” with a trial by fire and to purge what Mao perceived as China’s historic softness and passivity; to prove to the West (and, to some extent, the Soviet Union) that China was now a military power and would use force to vindicate its interests; to secure China’s leadership of the Communist movement in Asia; and to strike at the United States (which Mao believed was planning an eventual invasion of China) at a moment he perceived as opportune. The principal contribution of the new ideology was not its strategic concepts so much as the willpower to defy the strongest nations and to chart its own course. In that broader sense, the Korean War was something more than a draw. It established the newly founded People’s Republic of China as a military power and center of Asian revolution. It also built up military credibility that China, as an adversary worthy of fear and respect, would draw on through the next several decades. The memory of Chinese intervention in Korea would later restrain U.S. strategy significantly in Vietnam. Beijing succeeded in using the war and the accompanying “Resist America, Aid Korea” propaganda and purge campaign to accomplish two central aims of Mao’s: to eliminate domestic opposition to Party rule, and to instill “revolutionary enthusiasm” and national pride in the population. Nourishing resentment of Western exploitation, Mao framed the war as a struggle to “defeat American arrogance”; battlefield accomplishments were treated as a form of spiritual rejuvenation after decades of Chinese weakness and abuse. China emerged from the war exhausted but redefined in both its own eyes and the world’s. Ironically, the biggest loser in the Korean War was Stalin, who had given the green light to Kim Il-sung to start and had urged, even blackmailed, Mao to intervene massively. Encouraged by America’s acquiescence in the Communist victory in China, he had calculated that Kim Il-sung could repeat the pattern in Korea. The American intervention thwarted that objective. He urged Mao to intervene, expecting that such an act would create a lasting hostility between China and the United States and increase China’s dependence on Moscow. Stalin was right in his strategic prediction but erred grievously in assessing the consequences. Chinese dependence on the Soviet Union was double-edged. The rearmament of China that the Soviet Union undertook, in the end, shortened the time until China would be able to act on its own. The Sino-American schism Stalin was promoting did not lead to an improvement of Sino-Soviet relations, nor did it reduce China’s Titoist option. On the contrary, Mao calculated that he could defy both superpowers simultaneously. American conflicts with the Soviet Union were so profound that Mao judged he needed to pay no price for Soviet backing in the Cold War, indeed that he could use it as a threat even without its approval, as he did in a number of subsequent crises. Starting with the end of the Korean War, Soviet relations with China deteriorated, caused in no small part by the opaqueness with which Stalin had encouraged Kim Il-sung’s adventure, the brutality with which he had pressed China toward intervention, and, above all, the grudging manner of Soviet support, all of which was in the form of repayable loans. Within a decade, the Soviet Union would become China’s principal adversary. And before another decade had passed, another reversal of alliance would take place.
"On March 5, 1953, Joseph Stalin died, and within weeks the Politburo of the Soviet Communist Party voted that the war in Korea should be ended. Mao Zedong received the news with dismay, but he knew that his army could not continue the war without Soviet assistance. With a speed that amazed the negotiating teams on both sides, the Chinese accepted voluntary repatriation. "
https://www.britannica.com/event/Korean-War/Introduction
原文陈述的不一定对。
The Chinese need not have worried, for both Eisenhower and secretary of state-designate Dulles viewed continuation of the Korean War as incompatible with U.S. national security interests. In their view the People’s Republic of China was indeed the enemy in Asia, but Korea was only one theatre in the struggle. They also knew that the voting public’s support for the war had thinned throughout 1952 as the talking and fighting continued abroad and the talking and taxing continued at home. As for the negotiations, Dulles conceded the communists’ point that voluntary repatriation should involve screening by an international agency, not just U.S.-ROK teams. When the UN and the International Committee of the Red Cross called for an exchange of sick and disabled POWs as a goodwill gesture, Eisenhower approved.
这篇长文将朝鲜战争的过程以及52年末的局势讲的清清楚楚，也分析了美军将领当时的看法和对策。读者读完了不难得出结论。只是这个结论不是中国官方的。
你自己也许根本没读完。
Sino-American Confrontation
The United States was a passive observer to these
internal Communist machinations. It explored no middle
ground between stopping at the 38th parallel and the
unification of Korea, and ignored the series of Chinese
warnings about the consequences of crossing that line.
Acheson puzzlingly did not consider them official
communications and thought they could be ignored. He
probably thought he could face Mao down.
None of the many documents published to date by all
sides reveals any serious discussion of a diplomatic option
by any of the parties. The many meetings of Zhou with the
Central Military Commission or the Politburo reveal no such
intent. Contrary to popular perception, Beijing’s “warning” to
Washington not to cross the 38th parallel was almost
certainly a diversionary tactic. By that point, Mao had
already sent ethnic-Korean PLA troops from Manchuria to
Korea to assist the North Koreans, moved a significant
military force away from Taiwan and toward the Korean
border, and promised Chinese support to Stalin and Kim.
The only chance that might have existed to avoid
immediate U.S.-China combat can be found in instructions
Mao sent in a message to Zhou, still in Moscow, about his
strategic design on October 14, as Chinese troops were
preparing to cross the Korean border:
Our troops will continue improving [their] defense works if
they have enough time. If the enemy tenaciously defends
Pyongyang and Wonsan and does not advance [north] in
the next six months, our troops will not attack Pyongyang
and Wonsan. Our troops will attack Pyongyang and
Wonsan only when they are well equipped and trained, and
have clear superiority over the enemy in both air and
ground forces. In short, we will not talk about waging
offensives for six months.58
There was no chance, of course, that in six months China
could have achieved clear superiority in either category.
Had American forces stopped at the line, from
Pyongyang to Wonsan (the narrow neck of the Korean
Peninsula), would that have created a buffer zone to meet
Mao’s strategic concern? Would some American
diplomatic move toward Beijing have made any difference?
Would Mao have been satisfied with using his presence in
Korea to reequip his forces? Perhaps the six-month pause
Mao mentioned to Zhou would have provided an occasion
for diplomatic contact, for military warnings, or for Mao or
Stalin to change his mind. On the other hand, a buffer zone
on hitherto Communist territory was almost certainly not
Mao’s idea of his revolutionary or strategic duty. Still he
was enough of a Sun Tzu disciple to pursue seemingly
contradictory strategies simultaneously. The United States,
in any event, had no such capacity. It opted for a U.N.-
endorsed demarcation line along the Yalu over what it could
protect with its own forces and its own diplomacy along the
narrow neck of the Korean Peninsula.
In this manner, each side of the triangular relationship
moved toward a war with the makings of a global conflict.
The battle lines moved back and forth. Chinese forces took
Seoul but were driven back until a military stalemate settled
over the combat zone within the framework of armistice
negotiations lasting nearly two years, during which
American forces refrained from offensive operations—the
almost ideal outcome from the Soviet point of view. The
Soviet advice throughout was to drag out the negotiations,
and therefore the war, as long as possible. An armistice
agreement emerged on July 27, 1953, settling essentially
along the prewar line of the 38th parallel.
None of the participants achieved all of its aims. For the
United States, the armistice agreement realized the
purpose for which it had entered the war: it denied success
to the North Korean aggression; but it had, at the same
time, enabled China, at a moment of great weakness, to
fight the nuclear superpower to a standstill and oblige it to
retreat from its furthest advance. It preserved American
credibility in protecting allies but at the cost of incipient
allied revolt and domestic discord. Observers could not fail
to remember the debate that had developed in the United
States over war aims. General MacArthur, applying
traditional maxims, sought victory; the administration,
interpreting the war as a feint to lure America into Asia—
which was surely Stalin’s strategy—was prepared to settle
for a military draw (and probably a long-term political
setback), the first such outcome in a war fought by
America. The inability to harmonize political and military
goals may have tempted other Asian challengers to believe
in America’s domestic vulnerability to wars without clear-cut
military outcomes—a dilemma that reappeared with a
vengeance in the vortex of Vietnam a decade later.
Nor can Beijing be said to have achieved all its
objectives, at least in conventional military terms. Mao did
not succeed in liberating all of Korea from “American
imperialism,” as Chinese propaganda claimed initially. But
he had gone to war for larger and in some ways more
abstract, even romantic, aims: to test the “New China” with
a trial by fire and to purge what Mao perceived as China’s
historic softness and passivity; to prove to the West (and, to
some extent, the Soviet Union) that China was now a
military power and would use force to vindicate its interests;
to secure China’s leadership of the Communist movement
in Asia; and to strike at the United States (which Mao
believed was planning an eventual invasion of China) at a
moment he perceived as opportune. The principal
contribution of the new ideology was not its strategic
concepts so much as the willpower to defy the strongest
nations and to chart its own course.
In that broader sense, the Korean War was something
more than a draw. It established the newly founded
People’s Republic of China as a military power and center
of Asian revolution. It also built up military credibility that
China, as an adversary worthy of fear and respect, would
draw on through the next several decades. The memory of
Chinese intervention in Korea would later restrain U.S.
strategy significantly in Vietnam. Beijing succeeded in
using the war and the accompanying “Resist America, Aid
Korea” propaganda and purge campaign to accomplish
two central aims of Mao’s: to eliminate domestic
opposition to Party rule, and to instill “revolutionary
enthusiasm” and national pride in the population.
Nourishing resentment of Western exploitation, Mao
framed the war as a struggle to “defeat American
arrogance”; battlefield accomplishments were treated as a
form of spiritual rejuvenation after decades of Chinese
weakness and abuse. China emerged from the war
exhausted but redefined in both its own eyes and the
world’s.
Ironically, the biggest loser in the Korean War was Stalin,
who had given the green light to Kim Il-sung to start and had
urged, even blackmailed, Mao to intervene massively.
Encouraged by America’s acquiescence in the Communist
victory in China, he had calculated that Kim Il-sung could
repeat the pattern in Korea. The American intervention
thwarted that objective. He urged Mao to intervene,
expecting that such an act would create a lasting hostility
between China and the United States and increase China’s
dependence on Moscow.
Stalin was right in his strategic prediction but erred
grievously in assessing the consequences. Chinese
dependence on the Soviet Union was double-edged. The
rearmament of China that the Soviet Union undertook, in
the end, shortened the time until China would be able to act
on its own. The Sino-American schism Stalin was
promoting did not lead to an improvement of Sino-Soviet
relations, nor did it reduce China’s Titoist option. On the
contrary, Mao calculated that he could defy both
superpowers simultaneously. American conflicts with the
Soviet Union were so profound that Mao judged he needed
to pay no price for Soviet backing in the Cold War, indeed
that he could use it as a threat even without its approval, as
he did in a number of subsequent crises. Starting with the
end of the Korean War, Soviet relations with China
deteriorated, caused in no small part by the opaqueness
with which Stalin had encouraged Kim Il-sung’s adventure,
the brutality with which he had pressed China toward
intervention, and, above all, the grudging manner of Soviet
support, all of which was in the form of repayable loans.
Within a decade, the Soviet Union would become China’s
principal adversary. And before another decade had
passed, another reversal of alliance would take place.