Douglas MacArthur has not faded away in Incheon, South Korea. From its hilltop Freedom Park, the late American general, in the form of a bronze statue, gazes down at the narrow channel that connects the city to the Yellow Sea.
On a September dawn 75 years ago, tens of thousands of U.S. and South Korean Marines under his command braved a hail of enemy fire to approach the shore and scale sea walls protecting Incheon. They retook the city from North Korean forces and went on to liberate Seoul, the South Korean capital, which lies roughly 25 miles to its east.
The Incheon Landing, the U.S. military’s most daring amphibious assault since D-Day in Normandy, turned the tide of the Korean War and made MacArthur a household name in South Korea. In Incheon, he is more than that; the city has made him and his maneuver part of its identity, hosting commemorative ceremonies each year.
On Sunday, South Korean and U.S. Marines marched down an Incheon street as onlookers cheered, waving flags of both countries. On Monday, the landing’s anniversary, amphibious assault vehicles vroomed across the water into the harbor. Marines later hoisted the South Korean flag on a pier as a large outdoor screen flashed black-and-white images from the actual landing 75 years ago.
If the Incheon landing symbolized the United States’ commitment to defend South Korea, then Incheon’s annual “We Remember” festivities embody the gratefulness many South Koreans still feel toward the Americans. But the alliance has been roiled in recent months as the Trump administration outraged South Korea by imposing heavy tariffs on its exports and by arresting hundreds of its citizens who were building a factory in Ellabell, Ga.
This is not the first time that some South Koreans are questioning the dynamics of the relationship with Washington. Some progressives no longer see it as a savior but as a bully. They have demanded the removal of the MacArthur statue, which was built in 1957 with citizens’ donations, once setting a fire on the pedestal.
But like in years past, Incheon pressed ahead with its annual celebration, reaffirming its singular place in South Korea’s modern history and its ties with the United States.
“Without the Incheon landing, South Korea as we know it would not have existed,” Incheon Mayor Yoo Jeong Bok said in an interview. “It reminds us that when we keep the alliance strong, we can keep South Korea free and defend the free world.”
On Sept. 15, 1950, Allied transport ships strung out down the Incheon channel as far as the eye could see. American Marines clambered down cargo nets into flat-bottomed landing craft, as warships pounded the beaches with shells to soften the enemy defense. Allied planes zoomed over, bombing and strafing the sea walls.
Today, Incheon’s bustling port exemplifies the contrast between the globalized South and the isolated North of the Korean Peninsula.
Cruise ships ply the waters along with commercial vessels shipping out South Korean exports like Kia cars and bringing in oil and natural gas to fuel its economy, one of Asia’s largest. Tall port silos and derricks loom over what used to be the sea walls U.S. Marines had to scale. Wolmido — an Incheon islet that American warplanes napalmed before the landing, not only scorching North Korean pillboxes but also killing villagers — now hosts an amusement park where children scream on roller coasters.
To the south, mud flats have been replaced with piers stacked with shipping containers, and the Songdo free economic zone, which is home to outposts of American universities, a thriving biotech industry and gleaming skyscrapers housing United Nations offices. Incheon is now among South Korea’s fastest growing cities. It has overtaken Busan, another port city, in terms of economic output and is second only to Seoul.
In Incheon, young couples and students used to take wedding and school album photos in front of the MacArthur statue. There were even shamans who adopted the dead American general as a deity and performed rituals around his statue, said You Dong-hyun, the former director of the Incheon Metropolitan City Museum. Those shamans are long gone but on a recent sultry evening, an old man circled the statue, chanting Buddhist verses, while others walked their dogs in the park.
“There is respect for General MacArthur and American troops sacrificed during the landing,” said Lee Sang-suk, 60. “Their image as the national savior is especially strong among old generations here.”
Yong Suck Shin, a retired journalist, was 9 when he watched American Marines handing out chocolates to children after liberating Incheon. This year, he helped organize an exhibition about Marguerite Higgins, an American war correspondent who scaled a sea wall with the Marines to report the landing.
“I am so proud of the landing that when I traveled abroad, I used to carry a photo of the MacArthur statue so I could explain where I came from,” Mr. Shin said.
For centuries Korea was known as the hermit kingdom. It opened up for trade only in the late 1800s, when Incheon was a cluster of muddy fishing huts. Japan, China and the United States all established trade posts in Incheon because of its proximity to Seoul.
American missionaries also arrived through Incheon, bringing Western medicine and education with them. Today, roughly 30 percent of all South Koreans identify as Christian. Korea’s first railway, highway and telegram lines all started from Incheon. Its first baseball and soccer games were held in Incheon. The old port area now attracts tourists with museums, alleys with turn-of-the-century themes and with its Chinatown, the birthplace of a national noodle dish called jajangmyeon.
“Modern civilization arrived in Korea through Incheon,” said Vice Mayor Hwang Hyojin.
Postwar Incheon attracted migrants seeking jobs unloading flour and other American aid shipments or at factories that were springing up around the city. But it has always been overshadowed by its bigger neighbor, Seoul. Incheon was the gateway to Seoul and everything seemed to pass through it, not anchoring down.
That began changing in the early 2000s with the opening of Incheon International Airport, one of the world’s largest, and the Songdo free economic zone, both on reclaimed land.
At the ceremony on Monday, Gen. Xavier T. Brunson, the top U.S. military officer in South Korea, said, “The Republic of Korea that we see today — strong, prosperous and democratic — stands as living proof of what can be accomplished when allies and partners join together.”
But this narrative is harder to accept for younger generations, who unlike their grandparents have not experienced war. The Trump administration has made it even trickier.
This year’s ceremonies came “at a bad time because people feel humiliated by the Georgia episode,” said Mr. You, the former museum director. “Some people were so angered by it that they say South Korea should align itself with China, although I don’t think they are serious when they say so.”
To Kim Young-rak, 49, the Incheon landing has become more relevant than ever. He cited North Korea’s expanding nuclear threat and the deepening rivalry between the United States and China.
“The Americans crossed the Pacific 75 years ago to help push back Communists barreling down the Korean Peninsula,” said Mr. Kim, who watched the parade on Sunday with his wife and son. “South Korea and the United States must band together again to deter North Korea and China.”
Choe Sang-Hun is the lead reporter for The Times in Seoul, covering South and North Korea.
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