An Election Without Issues
The 1997 presidential election campaign is unlike anything
South Koreans have experienced before. With less than two months until election day, an opposition candidate is
enjoying a commanding lead in the polls, while the ruling party's candidate is trailing a distant third. Leading
opposition candidates are putting the final touches on a political alliance, and the incumbent party is facing
collapse. All this is extremely uncharacteristic of presidential campaigns in a country where, before the transition
to full-fledged democracy some ten years ago, the results of presidential elections were largely a foregone conclusion
as the authoritarian government used all of its considerable power to ensure that it stayed in power. Even when
elections were closely fought despite the best efforts of the authoritarian regimes, it was never expected that
the opposition would actually win. The candidate for the incumbent party always led in the polls and always ended
up winning. The opposition repeatedly ensured its own defeat with factional infighting that split the ticket.
Of course, all this may only mean that democracy is taking root in South Korea. Indeed, considering the political
and economic achievements of South Korea in recent years, the election of the fifteenth president of the republic,
to take place on December 18, 1997, should be a proud occasion. Justly celebrated for its stunning economic growth
of the past three decades and equally noted for its rapid transition to democracy since the late 1980s, South Korea,
by all accounts, is now in the process of consolidating its economic and democratic achievements. It has fully
graduated from "less developed country" status to the rank of a leading industrialized nation. Politically,
the transition to democracy has been successfully carried out.
However, the mood in Seoul, and everywhere else in the country, is anything but joyful. Instead of celebrating
decades of economic growth, South Koreans are anxious and even pessimistic about future economic prospects. Instead
of celebrating the maturing of democracy, people are disillusioned and cynical about the political process. The
election seems only to magnify and intensify this sense of crisis.
This is not to say that the South Korean economy and democracy are seriously threatened either from within or the
outside. Despite the dramatic bankruptcies of major conglomerates (chaebol) and the ensuing financial crisis, it is unlikely that the economy
is facing imminent collapse or a "meltdown" as some doomsayers would have it. It is highly unlikely that
another military coup would disrupt the political process, no matter how "messy" the democratic process
becomes. The threat from North Korea, while still very real, has not been a major issue during the campaign and
has had little impact on the elections so far. What underlies the people's anxiety and sense of crisis? Is it simply
a case of the jitters as Koreans try to get used to the idea of the opposition taking power through an election
for the first time? What is the logic driving this campaign? Why is the ruling party so weakened to the complete
surprise of everyone? How should one interpret the bewildering proliferation of candidates and parties? What will
the Korean people base their votes on? In order to try to answer at least some of these questions, it is important
to analyze and understand the broad trends and major issues of South Korean politics. Only by understanding fundamental
shifts in South Korea's political discourse in recent years can one can begin to understand the complexities of
the current election.
National Goals
During the past three decades, Korean political discourse has concentrated on such issues as economic development,
democratization, national security, and reunification. These issues captured the highest hopes and aspirations
of the Korean people, and in the broad scheme of things, all of these goals, with the exception of reunification,
have been achieved. The process by which Korea achieved economic development and democratization while containing
North Korean aggression was by no means a smooth one; it consisted of many false starts, reversals, and shocks.
Coups d'etat, the bloody suppression of anti-government demonstrations, and frequent constitutional changes punctuated
the political process, while pro-democracy demonstrations by students, intellectuals, and dissident political leaders
became the order of the day.
The reasons for the tensions and collisions between opposing political forces were many, not the least of which
was that many of their goals and ideals were different, and in some cases, downright contradictory. South Korean
politics were riddled with battles between opposing political forces over how best to define and achieve national
goals. Presidential elections always brought major social and political tensions, conflicts, and cleavages to the
fore, revealing both the ideals as well as the most malignant aspects of the Korean political unconscious. They
provided the opportunity for all political forces, including the opposition, to bring their cases to the public
in a sharply focused manner. How then were the battle lines drawn?
Industrialization Versus Democratization
In the early 1960s South Korea was one of the poorest nations on earth. Over the next three decades, the nation
embarked on economic growth that transformed the war-shattered agrarian economy into an industrial powerhouse.
What made this transformation possible? An alliance among the military-backed government, the bureaucracy led by
technocrats, and the industrialists. The authoritarian government kept dissidents and radical students as well
as workers in check, thereby giving a free hand to the technocrats and the business community to pursue export
and growth without political instability or labor unrest. It was a system designed to fully mobilize what meager
resources the nation had for the sole purpose of industrialization. It was also designed to do that while keeping
the North Korean threat at bay. Civil rights, already severely restricted in the name of maintaining economic growth,
doubly suffered under the imperative of national security.
Dissidents, composed of intellectuals, university students, and labor unionists, decried the violation of human
and civil rights perpetrated in the name of national security and economic growth. For them, nothing justified
the curtailment of freedom the people had to suffer under authoritarian regimes. The repeated halting of the constitutional
process stunted the growth of democracy and freedom, which they felt was more important than material well-being.
The issues were then framed in starkly opposing terms, such as "anti-communism versus leftism" or "national
security and economic development versus disorder and chaos" by authoritarian regimes, and "democracy
versus dictatorship" or "civilian versus military rule" by dissidents. The standoff, beginning with
the military coup of 1961 that brought President Park Chung Hee to power, continued well into the 1980s. The tension
and the stakes heightened with the election of President Park to a third term in 1969, an election made possible
by a change to the constitution, and the proclamation of martial law in 1971. The assassination of Park in 1979
seemed to provide an opportunity for restoring full democracy. However, in 1980, the military intervened once again
in the name of national security, economic stability, and order. When the people of the city of Kwangju rose up
in protest, they were brutally suppressed by the army. The military now had blood on its hands. The tension between
the establishment and dissidents built up over the decades of rapid industrialization and political repression
was reaching a boiling point. Or so it seemed.
Releasing the Tensions
In 1986, as President Chun Doo Hwan was getting ready to hand over the presidency to his longtime friend and political
ally Roh Tae Woo, the people had finally had enough. As dissidents and students began organizing massive protests
against the proposed transfer of power from Chun to Roh, citizens began to join the ranks of the protesters en
masse for the first time. After considering martial law, the government finally relented, reversing its position
in a dramatic fashion by announcing direct presidential elections on June 29. Roh won the election with only 37
percent of the vote as the opposition votes were split between the two prominent dissident politicians, Kim Young
Sam and Kim Dae Jung. The opposition lost an invaluable opportunity, something that haunts South Korean politics
to this day.
Nevertheless, President Roh undertook broad liberalization measures in both political and economic spheres. The
first thing he did was distance himself from the legacies of the ex-president, Chun, his lifelong friend and political
sponsor. By separating himself from the man who put him in power, he was able to shore up, at least in part, his
self-made image as a political reformer. In the economic sphere, massive strikes at the major centers of Korea's
industrial might were largely condoned, leading to equally massive hikes in the wages of workers who had contributed
so much for so long to economic growth without reaping its benefits. The dismantling of many of the security apparatuses
the government had wielded to great political effect led to the proliferation of political parties as well as civic
organizations and interest groups. South Korea began to witness the growth of its own brand of civil society. In
this fashion, the ruling party oversaw a process of rapid democratization almost in spite of itself. Ironically
enough, the industrial and political tensions that had built up during decades of harsh military-backed rule were
released during the presidency of Roh Tae Woo, a core member of the military establishment.
The next phase of the easing of tensions came in 1990. Midway through his term, President Roh found himself in
the unenviable position of having to govern the country with a minority in the National Assembly. In the 1989 general
elections the ruling party had lost its majority in the National Assembly, while the opposition was split into
three major parties, led by Kim Dae Jung, Kim Young Sam, and Kim Jong Pil. The country was becoming increasingly
ungovernable as the National Assembly became deadlocked over numerous issues. As for Kim Young Sam, destined to
dominate the next phase of South Korean politics, things looked hopeless as he found himself the leader of a small
minority party that trailed well behind Kim Dae Jung's in National Assembly seats. In a bold attempt to escape
political oblivion, Kim forged an alliance with his ideological archenemies, President Roh Tae Woo and Kim Jong
Pil, leader of the smallest minority party and right-hand man of late president Park Chung Hee. This alliance,
or Faustian pact, resulted in the creation of a new ruling party that dwarfed the only remaining opposition party,
led by Kim Dae Jung.
The stunning move, which was a marriage of convenience at best, paved the way for Kim Young Sam's eventual election
to the presidency in 1992. With Kim's election, a civilian became the occupant of the Blue House, the presidential
mansion, for the first time in over 30 years. It was also the crowning moment in the illustrious career of a politician
who had made his name as a dissident under decades of authoritarian rule. However, the victory was tainted in many
people's eyes, as it had been made possible only by the help of Roh and the establishment against which Kim had
struggled so long and hard, becoming famous in the process. The supreme irony in all this was that the one-time
dissident and one of the two most famous opposition leaders in South Korea became the presidential candidate of
the ruling party, eventually getting himself elected on that ticket. The tension between the pro-democracy movement
and the military-backed establishment was greatly reduced as the leaders of these formerly implacable foes joined
hands to form the next government.
To be sure, President Kim undertook reform measures whose severity stunned friends and foes alike. He purged the
most powerful clique in the army, which had produced the likes of Presidents Chun, Roh, and their would-be imitators.
He also carried out a massive anti-corruption campaign, arresting or firing high-ranking government officials as
well as some of the most powerful business leaders. A real-name-transactions law banning the use of incorrect or
false names on bank and brokerage accounts was promulgated by executive order, opening the way for investigations
into political slush funds. Two of the greatest "catches" of this new law, of course, were former presidents
Chun and Roh who, after a dramatic trial, were jailed for using illegal political funds as well as for their role
in the 1980 Kwangju massacre.
President Kim's greatest contribution, however, was to nullify the "democracy versus economic development"
dichotomy that had been central to South Korean politics for so long. Just as President Roh used Chun's political
power base to get himself elected, only to betray him out of political necessity, so did President Kim with his
predecessor, President Roh. As a result South Korea underwent a rapid democratic transition without the ruling
party ever losing power. It carried out far-reaching reform measures and maintained power by absorbing many of
the opposition's people and ideas. Through this process of "conservative reform," the "democracy
versus dictatorship" or "civilian versus military rule" tension came to be diffused.
Another reason for the success of this process was that the reforms were undertaken during a period of continuous
economic expansion and growth. Whereas fundamental political transformations usually take place in periods of profound
economic crisis and vice versa, the South Korean economy was largely untouched by the political turmoil engulfing
the country. Indeed, during the 1980s, the South Korean economy remained the fastest growing in the world. In 1988,
the nation hosted the Olympic Games, recorded as one of the most successful ever. Per capita income passed $10,000
in 1995, and South Korea became the twelfth-largest trading nation in the world with the eleventh-largest gross
national product. It became the world's second-largest producer of semiconductors and ships, fifth-largest manufacturer
of automobiles, and sixth-largest producer of steel. In 1996 South Korea became a member of the Organization for
Economic Cooperation and Development, confirming its status as an industrial power that has come of age.
The Absence of Class and Religious Cleavages
By the mid-1990s the national goals of economic development, democratization, and preventing North Korean aggression
were largely met. Furthermore, they were met in such a way that the political tensions created by strenuous efforts
to realize them were gradually but entirely diffused. By no one's design, but through political expediency and
compromise, South Korea achieved its multiple goals simultaneously. These issues no longer arouse the political
ardor they did only a decade ago, nor can they animate debate in the current presidential campaign. Since these
issues ceased to be relevant, the political parties that based their identities on them have lost their individuality
and ideological cohesion.
Nor can they rely on the socioeconomic cleavages upon which other political parties have traditionally been based,
namely class and religion. During the 1980s, many radical students and intellectuals tried to apply a Marxist framework
to the South Korean situation. Because rapid industrialization saw the equally rapid growth of the working class
whose wages were kept artificially low, the situation seemed ripe for such an interpretation. However, to the disappointment
of many radical intellectuals and political leaders, class consciousness among the workers did not grow. When democratization
took place in the late 1980s and the wage rates rose in response to massive strikes and the government's liberalization
policies, the workers were placated. Many intellectuals decried the "betrayal" of class interest and
the conservative nature of Korean workers. However, it was not the workers who lost their class consciousness.
Rather, the intellectuals were mistaken in ever attributing class consciousness to South Korean workers.
This should come as no surprise given that any sort of leftist ideology is met with a very hostile and inhospitable
environment in South Korea. Having suffered enormously during the Korean War, which was initiated by the invasion
of the communist regime of North Korea, South Koreans have harbored very strong anti-communist sentiments. During
President Park's regime anti-communism was raised to the status of state ideology. From early childhood South Koreans
learn about the countless atrocities committed by North Korean troops during the war and how the communists are
responsible for the national division. Constant guerrilla infiltration and other incursions by North Korea heighten
anti-communist feelings among the people. Anything smacking of socialism, communism, or leftism is considered taboo.
In the wake of the Kwangju uprising and the military takeover of 1980, a wave of "revisionist" views,
some Marxist inspired, began to sweep the South Korean intellectual scene. These theories and the radical student
and worker activism motivated by them seemed to presage the rise of a class society and ideology. However, the
anti-communist and anti-leftist leanings of the public proved much too strong. Of course, the rise of the affluent
middle class also played a major role in reversing leftist inroads. By the early 1990s, some 90 percent of South
Koreans identified themselves as middle class. It became all too apparent that class consciousness and ideology
had failed to take root in South Korea.
The fact that religion does not play a political role may come as a surprise to those who know that South Korean
society is a veritable smorgasbord of religions. In Muslim countries from Morocco to Indonesia politics and religion
are intricately linked. Most Western European countries have a Christian Democratic Party. Hinduism and Buddhism
are major political factors in countries like India and Thailand. Historically, religious wars since the Reformation
have produced deep divisions within society along religious lines which have been used to organize political parties
ever since. But in South Korea where some 30 percent of the population is Buddhist, 25 percent Protestant, and
5 percent Roman Catholic, there are no parties organized along religious lines, and it is unlikely that one will
be formed in the near future. Why?
Even though few Koreans would outwardly profess faith in shamanism and Confucianism, these two "religions"
inform their fundamental world view. The vast majority of Korean Buddhists and Christians still perform the ancestor
worship and shamanistic seances peculiar to Confucianism and shamanism, respectively. Daily manners, etiquette,
language, and other rules of propriety are also based on Confucianism.
However, these two religions are different from others in that they both have a strong "inner-worldly"
orientation, meaning that they lack the metaphysical orientation of Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, and Islam,
which divides the world into secular and sacred parts. The metaphysical dichotomy peculiar to Buddhism, Christianity,
Hinduism, and Islam provides their followers with a transcendental vantage point from which to analyze and criticize
the secular and the profane. Lacking such a dichotomy, Confucianism and shamanism strongly emphasize harmony with
nature, society, and other human beings. Rather than providing a basis for criticism, they enforce what has been
called a "rational adjustment to the world" and "conformism."
This has resulted in a religious syncretism which has allowed religions to peacefully coexist, sometimes intermingling
to a degree that would alarm orthodox followers. As a result Korea has rarely, if ever, experienced religious wars--certainly
nothing on the scale of the Western religious wars of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries or of Bosnia or the
Middle East today. Thus in South Korea religion has failed to become a serious political factor.
Regionalism
The conundrum of the current South Korean presidential election is that there are real issues. Given that the national
goals that have driven South Korean politics for the past half century have been met to a very large degree and
that South Korean society lacks those differences that form the basis of political parties in other democracies,
it is hard to identify the social conflicts and schisms that generate democratic party politics. Though they might
disagree about the details, most South Koreans agree on where their nation should be headed. They have to find
new major issues upon which they can agree to disagree for the sake of a pluralist democracy based on party politics.
What, then, is driving party politics in South Korea right now? What issues, ideologies, and social cleavages are
current political parties based on? Here we are finally getting to the heart of the matter. In the absence of religious
or ideological cleavages and in the wake of achievements in economic development, democratization, and national
security, politics are becoming increasingly dependent on regionalism. Regionalism has been the bane of South Korean
politics, blamed by many as the main hindrance to the development of full-fledged democracy. Ironically, as South
Korea tries to come of age in political terms, its politics are becoming even more dependent on the one factor
most detrimental to the growth of democracy.
The origins of regionalism are hotly debated. Whatever its genealogy, the regionalism that afflicts South Korean
politics today acquired concrete form and shape in the 1960s, once economic development began in earnest. In order
to concentrate scarce resources and allocate them more efficiently, President Park chose to develop the Seoul-Pusan
corridor, an axis that included Kyongsang Province, where he happened to have been born. With the explosive growth
of the economy in the ensuing decades, the region was heavily industrialized, while other provinces, such as Cholla,
were relatively neglected. The fact that Park's successors, Presidents Chun and Roh, were also from this province
reinforced the idea that Kyongsang was given preferential treatment. That Kyongsang was about three times more
populous than Cholla was not enough to account for the enormous discrepancies in the number of army generals and
top government officials produced by the two provinces.
The sense of discrimination felt by the people of Cholla found a political representative in Kim Dae Jung, the
region's favorite son. Even up to 1971, when he finished a close second to the incumbent Park in the presidential
elections, he was not perceived as the representative of Cholla Province, as indicated by his winning in cities
such as Pusan, located in Kyongsang Province. However, he has since come to represent and embody the sense of frustration
felt by the people of the region as a whole. His persecution at the hands of the authorities for his pro-democracy
activities was also perceived by many as a persecution of Cholla. Then came the Kwangju pro-democracy movement
in 1980. When students and citizens of the provincial capital of South Cholla Province began protesting the military
coup that brought President Chun to power, paratroopers were sent in to brutally quell what the government then
called a rebellion. That other cities undergoing much civil unrest during this period suffered a much lighter fate
only confirmed popular suspicions.
Since then regionalism has been the most potent force for political mobilization in South Korea. Regional sentiments
were exploited to the fullest by many politicians in the 1989 National Assembly elections, which saw the rise of
Kim Jong Pil, who swept the vote in his home province of Chungchong, an area that had hitherto remained above the
fray. When Chung Ju Young, the founder of Hyundai, ran for the presidency in 1992, he swept his native Kangwon
Province. A trend was established.
The Three Kims
The problem of regionalism is inextricably linked with the so-called Three Kims--Kim Young Sam, Kim Dae Jung, and
Kim Jong Pil--who have dominated Korean politics for the past 30 years. Each of the Three Kims has come to represent
a particular region of the country; the political parties they lead also have their power bases in these regions.
At the behest of these powerful leaders, regionalism has come to dominate Korean political debates. Regional ties
and loyalties consistently overwhelm any consideration of either ideology or concrete policies. National Assembly
elections as well as the presidential elections have turned into a matter of securing the votes of undecided regions
(simply because they are not represented in the race), in addition to votes from one's home province.
The Three Kims have attained their political status by dint of Korea's recent history. In the struggle against
authoritarian regimes, charismatic leaders were clearly necessary, and Kim Young Sam and Kim Dae Jung fit the role
perfectly. The two Kims became such powerful figures because for 30 years they were the symbols and leaders of
the pro-democracy movement. On the other hand, Kim Jong Pil was the brain behind the coup that brought Park to
power as well as the mastermind of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency (KCIA) and the Democratic Republican
Party. For a long time he was the heir apparent to President Park, deriving his power and authority from this association
as well as from Korea's economic development. As fate would have it, all of these leaders are from different provinces.
Thus, their past records combined with their regional ties, complete accidents of birth, have produced the potent
mix of regionalism in Korean politics.
The irony is that before full democracy was restored these leaders had national political bases. Modernization
or the struggle against dictatorial rule had nationwide appeal. But once democracy was restored, these powerful
political leaders lacked distinguishing traits, except their regional identities. This is primarily because they
have failed to present fresh party platforms or ideologically distinguishing marks, leaving their constituents
very little upon which to base their voting decisions except for regional rivalry, which the Three Kims have done
their utmost to encourage. Now the political futures of the Three Kims depend on their regional bases, which have
become their political fiefdoms of sorts.
The Kim Dae Jung-Kim Jong Pil Alliance
In the current elections, the Three Kims are using their regional power bases to the fullest. Kim Dae Jung has
a lock on the Cholla Province vote, which gives him the luxury of concentrating only on attracting voters from
other regions. He does not even have to incite regionalism in any explicit manner. Everyone simply assumes that
more than 90 percent of the Cholla Province votes are his. Kim Jong Pil, less secure about his base in Chungchong
Province, nevertheless has enough political clout to tip the balance in favor of other candidates, such as Kim
Dae Jung, who needs an increase of just 10 percent over the votes he can count on from Cholla to get elected. Indeed,
the possible alliance between the two Kims has been one of the hottest topics of this campaign. The National Congress
for New Politics (NCNP), led by Kim Dae Jung, and the United Liberal Democrats (ULD) have been engaged in negotiations
for the past year or so on a single candidate and platform compromise. This most unlikely of alliances between
a former dissident and the founder of the KCIA, notorious for its persecution of political dissidents, was finalized
on October 27, with the formation of the DJP alliance--the acronym is formed by the initials of the politicians'
first names. They agreed on Kim Dae Jung as their joint presidential candidate and Kim Jong Pil as prime minister
if they win. Moreover, they also agreed that midway through Kim Dae Jung's term, the constitution will be changed
to convert the current presidential system into a parliamentary one, something for which Kim Jong Pil has been
pushing hard. This agreement, signed by the two Kims on November 3 with much fanfare, is one of the most glaring
examples of the rather sorry state of South Korean presidential politics. The two Kims maintain that their alliance
is the only way to effect a transfer of power from the government party to the opposition, something that has never
happened in South Korean politics and that is badly needed for the consolidation of Korean democracy. This may
well be the case. However, more to the point, it illustrates better than anything else that South Korean politics
do not revolve around ideological or policy issues. Former nemeses can now join hands to attain the presidency
and even change the constitution to fit their interests and ensure their political survival and longevity. What
then of the other Kim, President Kim Young Sam?
The Failure of President Kim Young Sam's Reform Politics
Another major factor in the 1997 election campaign is the fall of President Kim's political fortune. Heralded by
friends and foes alike as the first civilian president in over 30 years, a champion of democracy, and a master
political strategist, President Kim came into office riding high on the hopes and goodwill of the people. Early
in office President Kim enjoyed an astounding 92 percent nationwide approval rating, getting high marks even from
Cholla Province, the political home base of his archrival Kim Dae Jung. He launched reform campaigns by lashing
out at past abuses of power and corruption in the military, the bureaucracy, the business community, and the political
establishment, and the people applauded his efforts. However, public sentiment soon began to turn against the president
when it was perceived that he was being less than fair in some of his dealings, singling out his political opponents
for punishment in the name of rooting out past misdeeds and corruption. Many thought that his decisions were made
arbitrarily, based more on personal inclination than objective criteria. He also failed to follow up on his reform
measures by institutionalizing them. Many had been implemented by fiat for maximum effect. As such, they had many
unintended side effects that went unaddressed. Kim's popularity began to plummet. People began to criticize him
for his "imperial" style of governing, going so far as to call his administration a "civilian dictatorship."
The final blows to President Kim's popular standing came in late 1996 and early 1997. In December 1996, the president
rammed through the National Assembly a labor law that had been strongly opposed by labor unions and the opposition
parties. Confident that he had the necessary votes in his own party and seriously misreading public sentiment regarding
his style of government, he had the lawmakers from his party meet at the National Assembly building at dawn one
morning to pass the bill, which they did in less than 15 minutes. The opposition party, taken off guard, protested
vehemently. Then the labor unions began calling for a nationwide strike. To the surprise and chagrin of the government,
many responded. In a matter of days, the nation's industries almost came to a standstill. The president retreated
in disgrace. He nullified the law and agreed to formulate a new one in consultation with the opposition and the
unions. His political clout had been seriously damaged.
The coup de grace, however, came in early 1997. In March the Hanbo Steel Company, a subsidiary of one of the largest
chaebol,
collapsed. The failure of the company had a chilling effect on the economy, which had already been slowing down
for some time. Soon thereafter it was revealed that the company had been pushing ahead with the construction of
a huge steel mill, a financial quagmire sustained by massive loans from major banks whose officials were being
bribed by the company's owner. The bureaucrats and business community began to brace themselves for yet another
anti-corruption campaign conducted by the Blue House. However, it was then disclosed that some of President Kim's
closest political associates were implicated in the scandal. The trail of bribes led to one of the president's
top aides and confidants. This was followed by the revelation that the president's son, Kim Hyun Chul, was also
involved in soliciting illegal political funds from the chaebol, including Hanbo. The president's political fate was sealed.
According to the latest polls, the president's approval rating stands somewhere around 4 percent. He has become
a lame duck in the truest sense. His various political and economic reforms are now roundly criticized for having
been nothing more than personal vendettas against former political foes or, at best, reforms carried out without
adequate thought or planning. It was under these circumstances that President Kim Young Sam had to begin preparations
for the 1997 elections. Because the constitution limits him to a single term, it is not a matter of getting himself
reelected. However, under normal circumstances the president, who is also the chairman of the ruling party, can
exercise a great deal of influence on choosing the presidential candidate. Also, it is up to him to ensure a smooth
transition of power within his own party, between himself and the nominee. President Kim's circumstances, however,
have not allowed him to exercise these influences. His loss of control over his own party is one of the most important
factors contributing to the disarray within party ranks, which has resulted in the party candidate's low standing
in the polls.
The Lee Hoi Chang-Kim Young Sam Rift
Despite his weakened stature, or perhaps because of it, President Kim managed to oversee the first truly open and
competitive nomination process within his party. Of nine candidates, two--Lee Hoi Chang and Rhee In Je--remained
after the primary voting by party delegates in July. Lee Hoi Chang, 65, a former Supreme Court justice and prime
minister, was considered to be a man of high integrity and moral principles as well as uncompromising in holding
others to similar standards. Rhee In Je, 50, a political protege of President Kim and former lawmaker and minister
of labor, had been elected governor of Kyonggi Province in 1995. Representing the new generation of politicians,
Rhee was viewed as someone who would continue the strong reform policies initiated by President Kim. It came as
a surprise to many observers of the primaries that Rhee came in second only to Lee, who had been building support
for a long time, but it did confirm rumors of a ground swell of delegates for this young candidate who represented
change.
In the tense runoff Lee won, receiving 60 percent of the vote. He was confirmed as the ruling party's candidate
and, in the wave of victory, his public approval ratings were the highest among all the contenders for the presidency,
including Kim Dae Jung and Kim Jong Pil. It seemed that the election would be a competition between Lee and the
two Kims, with Lee most likely to win. Because of Lee's lack of a strong regional base (he is from Chungchong Province,
but he also spent part of his youth in Cholla Province, eventually going to high school and university in Seoul)
it was thought that his election would put an end to regionalism in South Korean politics. This hope was reinforced
by the fact that none of the candidates represented Kyongsang Province, the bastion of the political establishment
for the past three decades. Up to this point, South Korean politics seemed normal and predictable enough, even
hopeful.
Then came the bombshell. The NCNP, led by Kim Dae Jung, made public the allegation that Lee's two sons had evaded
military service by falsifying their health records. Army health records showed that the two men did not enlist
because they were both underweight. Given that one must weigh under 45 kilograms, far below Korean men's average,
to be eligible for exemption, it was alleged that Lee, who was a Supreme Court judge at the time, exerted pressure
on military doctors to falsify his sons' records. The allegation was almost impossible to prove or disprove. The
damage, however, was done. Because military service is compulsory for all Korean men, the fact that Lee's sons
did not serve reflected a lack of patriotism, condoned by their father. The allegations hit Lee, perceived as a
man of principles, where it hurt the most--his moral integrity. His approval ratings began to nosedive.
In order to shore up his tarnished image and standing in the polls, Lee tried many maneuvers. In September he announced
that he would ask President Kim to pardon the two former presidents in jail. It was a move aimed at conservative
voters in Kyongsang Province, the home of ex-presidents Chun and Roh. However, the move backfired when the Blue
House issued a statement that it was considering no such action and that Lee should not have made the announcement
without first consulting the president. Lee then demanded that the president hand over the chairmanship of the
party earlier than planned. The president became irate over this, saying that he would hand Lee the reins of the
party when he deemed appropriate. Lee, who felt snubbed, thought that President Kim was not fully backing his candidacy.
Then in September Rhee In Je announced that he was leaving the party to run for the presidency on his own.
Meanwhile, others within the ruling party, including those who ran against Lee in the primaries, began to publicly
question Lee's leadership capabilities and political acumen. Facing increasing criticism both from within and outside
the party, he tried another tactic. In October he had his aides leak documents and copies of bank statements allegedly
showing that Kim Dae Jung had amassed and used massive slush funds, collected from former president Roh and heads
of leading chaebol.
Many initially felt that this would be the death knell for the senior politician. It was thought that once the
prosecutor's office began investigating these claims, Kim's image would be tarnished beyond repair. After all,
political slush funds were an open secret, and Kim Dae Jung had earlier confessed to receiving 2 billion won from
former president Roh. The two former presidents were in jail precisely for maintaining such funds. However, to
almost everyone's surprise, the allegations had no effect whatsoever on Kim Dae Jung's standing in the polls. Instead,
they adversely affected Lee's position as people criticized him for starting a smear campaign. Then the prosecutor
general called a press conference to announce that the matter was not going to be investigated, since he thought
that it would have too many political implications and would hurt the electoral process. Dubbed "maid of the
powers that be," the prosecutor's office usually does the Blue House's bidding. It was thought that the prosecutor
general could not have acted independently without at least the tacit consent of the president.
Feeling isolated and thinking that Kim Young Sam was openly undermining him, Lee lashed out at the president. He
demanded that the prosecutor's office reverse its decision and that President Kim leave the party by giving up
his honorary chairmanship. Furthermore, he called for an investigation of President Kim's campaign finances during
the 1992 elections. This was Lee's last stand. He was trying to refurbish his image as champion of the "rule
of law" by distancing himself from the corrupt political practices of the past in which all Three Kims, including
the president, had been clearly implicated. It was a risky move as it meant severing all ties with his political
patron, who, despite his weakened status, still wielded considerable power within the party.
Lee's move brought immediate reaction within the party from the remaining followers of President Kim, who resigned
as chairman in October, thereby allowing Lee to assume leadership of the party. On October 29 leading members of
the president's faction announced that they were leaving the party to form one of their own. The disintegration
of the ruling New Korea Party (NKP), long foretold, has begun at last.
Rhee In Je and the Anti-DJP Alliance
While the ruling NKP has begun to unravel at the seams, Rhee In Je, one of the figures largely responsible for
touching off the process, is riding high in public opinion polls, following Kim Dae Jung in a close second. Although
blamed by some for having violated the rules of basic trust by leaving the party after losing in the primaries,
he has something that all other candidates do not: youth. Having lived under the Three Kims for decades, many South
Koreans are getting fed up with the same old figures dominating the political landscape. What attracts them is
not so much the concrete policies, issues, or ideologies that Rhee In Je represents but the tantalizing possibility
that the political old guard might be swept away in one fell swoop. In a society still greatly influenced by Confucian
norms that value age and seniority, the older generation would be unable or unwilling to serve under such a youthful
president.
Using this factor to his advantage, Rhee is calling for everyone to gather around his banner to fight against the
old guard represented by Kim Dae Jung and Kim Jong Pil's DJP alliance. Because Lee Hoi Chang is no longer viewed
as a viable alternative to the Three Kims, Rhee In Je hopes that anyone opposed to the idea of the old guard continuing
to rule South Korea will realize that he is their only hope. Given his standing in the polls, along with the lackluster
performance of Lee Hoi Chang and Cho Soon, the fourth major candidate, he could actually win. If those remaining
in the ruling NKP and others opposed to the DJP alliance unite behind a single candidate, there is a good chance
that the old guard will be defeated. Of course, both Lee and Cho are thinking the same way.
In early November Rhee In Je became the official candidate of a new party, the New Party for the People, which
he formed with the help of four defectors from the NKP. For the first time National Assembly members have endorsed
Lee, giving political weight to his popularity. No sooner than this announcement was made did Lee and Cho begin
floating rumors about a merger. Should they join, a likely scenario at this writing, whoever is chosen as their
coalition's candidate will be a strong contender as well. At this point, the election is shaping up to be a three-way
race, in which case yet another phase in the 1997 elections may open.
Conclusion
For students of South Korean politics, let alone casual or occasional observers, the 1997 presidential election
campaign has been as confusing as it has been fascinating. The final outcome is still anything but clear. Kim Dae
Jung has a commanding lead in the polls up to this point, but many things can still happen, and anyone who knows
"DJ's" standing in South Korean politics and the kind of diverse emotions that he can set off will hesitate
to place full bets on him. This is not to say that there is a clear alternative. Indeed, one of the main reasons
that Kim Dae Jung has been so popular is that there just does not seem to be a viable alternative at this point.
However, as this essay has attempted to show, the 1997 elections are important to analyze for reasons other than
to see who will get elected. The election will be another watershed in the history of South Korean politics. It
will be the first time that Koreans go to the polls to select a president secure in the knowledge that the process
will be completely free of undue influence from the military and security apparatuses, that the election will be
free and fair. Moreover, despite recent troubles, the fundamentals of the South Korean economy are still sound.
The North Korean threat is still there, but given recent events, such as the prompt release of two South Korean
farmers who were abducted by North Korean troops along the Demilitarized Zone, national security should not pose
an immediate problem for now. Clearly, South Koreans are in a situation far more comfortable and secure than any
other in living memory.
Indeed, the confusion surrounding the election is more a symptom of the "crisis of success" than anything
else. The lost sense of direction experienced by South Koreans these days arises from the fact that the nation
has been more successful than almost any other in attaining rapid economic growth, democracy, and national security.
Maybe having all one's dreams come true is not such a wonderful thing.
Of course, this is not to say that South Korea's work is done by any means. For the immediate future, the economy
should be awakened from its recent doldrums. In the longer term, reunification still poses the greatest challenge
ever faced by the Korean people. In order to meet these goals, which will truly secure the Korean people a bright
future, politics must be sound, providing vision and leadership. In that sense, the 1997 elections in South Korea
show that indeed much work remains to be done.
Foreign Policy for a New Administration
The uncertainties in South Korean politics in autumn 1997
come close to rivaling those of the Korean state to the North. Not only is it impossible to predict the winner
of the December 18 presidential election, it remains unclear as to the precise number of candidates who will remain
in the race to the end. Four individuals were declared contestants as of early November: Lee Hoi Chang, Kim Dae
Jung, Rhee In Je, and Cho Soon. A number of others had dropped out, but their endorsements were not yet fully determined.
Thus far, the issues have been strongly personal, concentrating on assessments of each candidate's character and
integrity. If public opinion polls are accurate, party label is of minimal importance, no candidate has a strong
lead, and many voters are undecided. Policy issues are gradually entering the scene, but, with the exception of
the crucial North Korea question, they are overwhelmingly domestic: economic reform and appropriate policies to
combat recent economic ills; a possible move to parliamentarism; and the legacy of scandal and corruption that
has touched prominent politicians, bureaucrats, and figures in the business world. The issue of whether to pardon
the two past presidents convicted of assorted offenses and now in detention also has been raised, but it appears
that pardons will be postponed until after the election.
In the background, moreover, lies the omnipresent force of regionalism, a factor that has long dominated Korean
politics. Can any candidate acquire a truly national image, or will that be at a later point in Korean history?
In this scene, foreign policy has thus far played a negligible role. On the key issue of policies toward the North,
President Kim Young Sam himself has wavered, sometimes taking a hard-line position, other times displaying a willingness
to extend a helping hand to the economically stricken North and urging early dialogue. His fluctuations are in
considerable measure a reflection of the deep cleavages within the NKP and, indeed, within the nation on this issue.
Moreover, his position has not been made easier by the fierce, unrelenting personal attacks on him launched from
Pyongyang.
Lee, the NKP candidate, has a reputation of being supportive of a more flexible policy, but he has not spoken on
the issue at length as yet. Kim Dae Jung has spelled out his proposals for a staged peaceful unification at length
in a recent book ("Three-Stage" Approach to Korean Reunification: Focusing on the South-North Confederal
Stage). He has long stood for efforts at reconciliation, and hard-liners have unfairly charged him with being soft
on communism. His party was made uncomfortable by the defection to the North in August 1997 of Oh Ik Je, former
head of the indigenous religious sect, Chondogyo. Oh had served as religious affairs adviser of Kim's party, the
National Congress for New Politics, until May. But he was also on the Presidential Advisory Council on Democratic
and Peaceful Unification until June.
Given the likelihood of an increasingly bitter campaign, can the South's politicians present a relatively united
front on policies regarding the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) so as to encourage Pyongyang's progressive
moves toward dialogue and discourage any efforts by Pyongyang to influence the election? In any case, the North
has repeatedly signaled that it will not deal with Kim Young Sam, indicating that there is little likelihood of
a summit meeting before December, although Kim Jong Il, son of the late DPRK leader Kim Il Sung, has now assumed
the office of general secretary of the Korean Workers' Party.
When one surveys the key aspects of the Republic of Korea's (ROK) foreign policy beyond the Korean peninsula, the
tasks ahead seem formidable, despite the major gains of recent years and irrespective of who is president. Beginning
with the Roh Tae Woo administration, South Korea launched an effort to broaden its international ties. Known as
the Nordpolitik policy, the principal aim was to achieve diplomatic relations with Russia and China. Aided by the
international developments of the early 1990s, this policy scored great success. Meanwhile, South Korea's mounting
economic strength enabled it to extend its reach in Asia and elsewhere. Close at hand, Natural Economic Territories
(NETs), economic entities that cut across political boundaries, combining resources, manpower, capital, technology,
and managerial skills, emerged. The ROK--Shandong peninsula NET was a prominent example, gradually expanding into
Jilin Province.
These accomplishments testified to the changing nature of the cold war alliances. In earlier times, when ideological
cleavages were deep, such alliances as that between the ROK and the United States were relatively exclusive in
nature and partook strongly of a patron-client relationship. The U.S. provided assurances of security (after the
Korean War) and economic assistance in various forms; South Korea pledged political allegiance, albeit not without
periodic difficulties. Today, all alliances are more flexible, permitting various international relationships and
independent political judgments.
It is in this context that the issues and choices facing a new ROK administration in 1998 should be viewed. Perhaps
it is appropriate to start with the status of relations with the United States, since this remains South Korea's
most crucial external tie, whether the measure be that of security, economics, or politics.
The United States
To draw up a balance sheet on the South Korean--American relationship is a more complex task than some might assume.
To be sure, the positive side of the ledger is substantial. Starting with perceptions, most Americans, while not
well informed, have a far more favorable image of South Korea than at times in the past. Generally, the ROK is
perceived as a success story today. To rapid economic growth has been added political liberalization. Some of the
darker side of Korean politics and the recent economic woes have received coverage in the U.S. media, but the overall
appraisal for those Americans who care is that of a dynamic, thriving society.
On the Korean side, the picture is more mixed. While a substantial majority of Koreans favor the continuance of
the U.S.-ROK security alliance, anti-Americanism has grown, particularly among younger generations. In part, this
is a product of highly publicized offenses committed by American servicemen. In larger measure, however, it comes
from the combination of nagging differences over a range of specific issues, especially economic conflicts, and
the recent rise of Korean nationalism. The latter development has strengthened the desire to cast off the role
of client and achieve a greater equality, including a full share in decision making, especially on such critical
issues as policies toward North Korea.
With respect to rising nationalism, South Korea is at one with other East Asian societies--and with the United
States as well. Ours is a time when three partially conflictual forces are rising simultaneously: internationalism,
nationalism, and communalism--the last revolving around stronger ethnic consciousness, deeper religious affiliation,
or more intense localist identification in various forms.
In economic matters, the U.S.-ROK relationship has had both its positive and its troublesome aspects. Despite a
series of economic problems and some slippage in growth, South Korea attracted a record $3.2 billion in foreign
investment in 1996, and the United States was the source of the highest amount, nearly $880 million. Korean firms
invested more than $1.5 billion in the U.S. that year. The ROK's gross national product increased 7.1 percent,
although estimates for 1997 suggest a growth decline to around 6 percent or possibly less.
Like Japan--with whose economic structure it shares certain essential elements--South Korea illustrates the fact
that no economic strategy, however successful, is good for all time. The policies of extensive governmental guidance
and support of select sectors of the economy, pervasive protectionism, and vigorous export orientation were extraordinarily
effective in sustaining rapid growth over three decades. But now, if greater competitiveness in the international
marketplace is to be achieved and financial imprudence at home is to be corrected, significant changes must be
undertaken. A combination of deregulation, regulatory reform, market opening, and reduction of production costs
is essential. The Korean economy is not in mortal peril, but it is ailing and needs creative actions. Initially,
the Kim administration took steps to reduce restrictions and open the market. However, ensuing economic problems
sharply curtailed such measures.
In this setting, and with the current account (trade in goods and services) deficit high, albeit declining somewhat,
U.S. demands for swifter moves toward market opening and stricter enforcement of the anti-dumping code have met
with growing unhappiness. Two-way trade in 1996 was more than $55 billion, with the trade balance in favor of the
United States, and in the first half of 1997 the U.S. surplus rose, with exports to Korea totaling $13.55 billion
and imports $10.9 billion. Korean import duties now stand at 8 percent, it might be noted, with U.S. duties averaging
2.5 percent.
Antagonized by the fact that three of the five cases brought by the United States to the World Trade Organization
(WTO) have related to South Korea, the ROK government filed a complaint with the WTO on July 10 accusing the United
States of imposing unfair anti-dumping charges in the case of Korean TVs. The U.S. Commerce Department had also
applied sanctions against two semiconductor companies because of dumping allegations. Since early August, bilateral
negotiations have been ongoing regarding the charges of television dumping, with 60 days allotted for an agreement
before the matter is submitted to the WTO Dispute Settlement Body. Discussions relating to the opening of the Korean
automobile market have also been initiated.
Earlier, an ROK-backed "frugality campaign," aimed at reducing imports, was launched. Naturally, the
United States, along with other trading partners, was unhappy, and it was pointed out that consumer products accounted
for only 11 percent of total ROK imports in 1996, with the great bulk of imports being a wide range of industrial
and military equipment. Irrespective of who is elected president, these issues will remain, but the figures make
it clear that the ROK-U.S. economic relationship is vital to both nations.
There are also some complex problems relating to military modernization. At one point, the United States was concerned
that the ROK might go beyond the 1979 agreement restricting it from building long-range missiles, but after discussions,
American authorities pronounced themselves more reassured. However, the ROK has strongly desired advanced surface-to-air
missiles, and earlier had a number of discussions with Russia regarding possible purchases. The United States was
worried about the interoperability of such weapons, namely, the inability of Russian-derived missiles to distinguish
between friend and enemy. Thus, it warned against such purchases except for testing purposes, and shortly thereafter
agreed to sell to the ROK highly effective shoulder-fired anti-aircraft missiles. Yet ROK authorities have insisted
on keeping certain options open.
Meanwhile, the issue of policies toward the North remains a delicate matter. If the DPRK collapses in the near
term, the costs for the ROK will be prodigious--multibillions for economic needs and, beyond this, the difficult
matter of finding a way to interact politically with a people who have only known isolation, deep antagonism toward
the South, and a hard authoritarian system.
Although the early-collapse scenario seems less likely than others, it demands detailed planning and close consultation
between the ROK and the U.S. An alternative scenario, that of gradual deterioration with rising discord among elites
in the North, could be more dangerous, especially if the aid of external sources is solicited. The possibility
of the DPRK regime hunkering down, with minimal change and extensive military control, poses other problems, particularly
since the end of this road would almost certainly be upheaval in some form. Yet another scenario, that of conflict
initiated by a desperate North, although probably less likely than some have asserted, also requires careful monitoring
and adequate preparation.
The current effort, however, is to promote a fifth scenario, that of seeking an evolutionary path whereby the DPRK
would undertake economic reforms, enabling its economy to improve and greater interaction with the neighboring
region to develop. This is the only scenario that has the support of all the major powers, as well as a majority
of South Koreans. Yet progress toward this end has been uneven and uncertain, primarily because of DPRK attitudes
and actions but also owing to the past ambivalence of the ROK.
The Seoul government--or part of that government--was not happy with the U.S.-DPRK negotiations that led to the
October 1994 Framework Agreement, despite the fact that Washington insisted that Seoul was being kept fully informed
at every stage of development. In the agreement itself, despite the North's desires, the South was given a central
role (along with the principal financial responsibility) in the proposed construction of a light water reactor
in North Korea.
Dedicated to that goal, the Korean Peninsula Energy Development Organization (KEDO) program has gone forward, with
ground-breaking ceremonies taking place on August 19, 1997. South Korean engineers and technicians have entered
the North for the first time, and South Korean authorities assert that by 2000, between 5,000 and 7,000 South Korean
workers will be on site. Further, two ROK diplomats took up posts in the KEDO office in Sinpo on July 28, 1997,
marking the first such development in the history of the two Koreas. Moreover, to facilitate communications, a
direct phone line connecting the site with Seoul was established in early August, the only other "hot line"
being that between the Red Cross societies of the two nations. Completion of the project is currently scheduled
for 2004, with costs now estimated at between $3.3 and $5 billion. Disputes over cost allocation continue, with
the ROK and Japan expected to shoulder the bulk of the expenses.
The KEDO program together with modest South Korean business investments in the DPRK and increasing North-South
trade, if continued, promise a growing southern presence in the North's economy, whatever its future. Gradually,
ROK restrictions on economic intercourse with the DPRK have been relaxed. In turn, the North has recently made
certain overtures to the South. For example, a small group of ROK journalists was allowed to visit the DPRK in
mid-1997 without being accompanied by officials for the first time. Further, after a border clash in July 1997,
the DPRK promised to give advance notice of reconnaissance activities within the Demilitarized Zone. Now that Kim
Jong Il has assumed the top party post, a new phase in DPRK politics and external relations may be inaugurated,
with possible implications for North-South relations. In any case, many issues regarding those relations remain
to be settled. These include the need to return to the 1991 agreement on official dialogues covering a range of
issues, including visits by divided families and moves in the military realm such as demilitarization of the Demilitarized
Zone.
Meanwhile, although the U.S. and the ROK are now generally agreed on the desirability of a "soft landing"
for the North, and the U.S. has been insistent in its talks with DPRK officials that a regularized North-South
dialogue must precede any normalization of relations, there will continue to be delicate issues between the two
governments relating to full disclosure, ratio of incentives and deterrents, and timing of moves. Naturally, the
DPRK can be expected to relish U.S.-ROK rifts. For the South, it uses such epithets as "puppet," while
seeking for itself a much fuller range of assistance from the United States. Its intransigence--or bargaining techniques--make
advances tortuous. For example, its recent insistence that U.S. troop withdrawal from Korea be placed on the agenda
of peace treaty talks is guaranteed to retard progress at this point.
Despite recurrent problems on the North Korean and other issues, the relationship between South Korea and the United
States is fundamentally strong. Support for the security alliance is solid in both nations, and no Korean presidential
candidate or political party is likely to change course on this matter in any basic fashion. In the event of conflict,
the U.S. commitment is clear and will remain so. This is not 1950, and Pyongyang authorities are well aware of
that fact. Moreover, the campaign to get American forces out of Korea has no chance of success until major changes
in the situation have taken place.
Perhaps it is not too early to consider the course of Korean-American relations after reunification, although such
an event is not likely to take place in the next ROK administration unless the DPRK collapses. When and how reunification
takes place will naturally determine the options available, at least in the short term. In any case, three variables
are likely to be crucial: the attitude and policies of a reunified Korean government; the attitude and policies
of the American people and government; and the power configuration in East Asia as well as the views of the major
nations, especially China.
Historically, Korea has had three broad options with respect to foreign policy: isolation; alignment with one major
society to offset others; and a balance of power effort, seeking basically positive relations with every important
society involved in the region. Isolation, frequently employed in the past, is not viable in the modern world as
the sorry plight of the DPRK so clearly demonstrates. Alliance has served the ROK well, and interestingly, despite
the DPRK public position, some North Koreans have whispered to Americans from time to time that a U.S. strategic
presence in the region under proper conditions would not necessarily be opposed.
Nevertheless, a combination of strategies--alignment with the United States accompanied by a strategy of seeking
harmonious relations with all other major nations, the course signaled at present by the ROK--might survive reunification.
The presence of U.S. troops on Korean soil would not necessarily be required under such a strategy at some point
in the future, except for a few technical experts. We are entering the era of post-modern military tactics with
dependence on information technology, long-range weaponry, and mobile platforms. Yet perceptions of national interests
in the United States will be equally important to those in Korea in determining whether such a course is feasible.
For the near future, however, the ROK-U.S. relationship will remain solid, with areas of cooperation based on mutual
interests outweighing differences, with the latter kept to manageable proportions through regularized consultation
and negotiation, both bilateral and multilateral. Without exception, the presidential candidates have indicated
either publicly or privately that ties to the United States remain critical to ROK security and growth.
China
Turning to ROK relations with China, the basic trends have been favorable from Seoul's perspective, especially
in the economic sphere. According to Chinese statistics, ROK-PRC trade reached nearly $20 billion in 1996, a 300
percent increase over 1992, making China the third-largest trading partner with the ROK after the United States
and Japan. Further, the trade balance was favorable to Korea. Moreover, direct investment in China by South Korean
firms totaled more than $11.5 billion in contracts, with $4.3 billion actually committed. While these investments
initially involved mainly small and medium firms seeking lower labor costs, increasingly, large-scale enterprises,
technology-intensive in nature, have entered China.
As noted, economic relations between South Korea and Shandong Province have flourished, with an expansion northward
from this NET. Another significant economic factor in the ROK-PRC relationship has been the fishing industry. Given
the contested atolls and maritime waters, the determination of Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZ) cannot be reached
soon. Hence, the Chinese have proposed provisional fisheries agreements pending a later settlement, and the ROK
agreed to negotiate the matter, while continuing the talks. Meanwhile, Seoul has complained strongly about illegal
fishing by Chinese in Korean waters, and the PRC has pledged cooperation in seeking to halt such activities.
On the political front, as might be expected, ROK-PRC relations are more restrained. Yet here, too, changes have
taken place. Beginning with Beijing's decision in 1991 that it would not block the ROK's quest to enter the United
Nations, followed by the establishment of diplomatic relations between the two states, China moved to a two-Koreas
policy. And while periodically proclaiming its staunch friendship with the North, privately Chinese officials have
been increasingly critical of the DPRK system, especially the reluctance of the North's leaders to undertake economic
changes. In earlier years, visiting North Koreans were taken on tours of China's Special Economic Zones and exposed
to other aspects of Deng Xiaoping's new program. The response was vastly slower and less extensive than Beijing
regarded as necessary; there were also political aspects of the reclusive northern regime that evoked Chinese disdain.
In attitude, Pyongyang has reciprocated. Privately, DPRK officials indicate their lack of trust in China despite
the fact that with the collapse of the USSR, the North's economic dependence on the PRC has greatly increased.
With respect to the central issue, that of North-South relations, China has been helpful, although it insists that
it has limited influence on Pyongyang. Beijing wants neither a nuclear nor a collapsed North, and it certainly
does not want another Korean war. Hence, it has urged negotiations and agreed to participate in the proposed four-party
dialogue now so tentatively under way. It has also provided substantial relief supplies to the DPRK.
It is clear that the PRC would not desire a reunified Korea under Seoul's command. That would push the ROK to the
Chinese border, and China has some 700,000 Chinese Koreans on its side of the Yalu River. Korean nationalism might
be rekindled in that group. Thus, China's perceived interests are strongly in the maintenance of two Korean states.
If, however, despite its desires, early Korean reunification takes place, China will probably oppose a continued
U.S. military presence on the peninsula, at least for any protracted period. Whether it would oppose a continuance
of a U.S.-ROK security agreement sans in-country U.S. forces might depend on the status of both Korea-China and
U.S.-China relations, but a negative attitude is likely.
If the North strikes again at the South militarily, or perhaps more likely, if a factional dispute among the DPRK
elite causes one group to turn to Beijing for support, China will face a serious dilemma. Thus, it is very probable
that in one form or another, Chinese authorities have conveyed admonitions against conflict to Pyongyang.
China is becoming a major power with major problems. All small nations in its vicinity must be constantly alert
both to domestic trends in this huge society as well as to its foreign policies. Korea--united or divided--like
other Asian societies, hopes for a positive U.S.-PRC relationship because only under those conditions can its own
security be strengthened. In addition, each of the presidential candidates has indicated a strong desire to foster
good relations between the ROK and China.
Japan
Japan is another powerful nation close to the Korean peninsula, and one that has been intimately connected with
Korea throughout much of the twentieth century. Despite that ROK-Japan diplomatic relations were established more
than three decades ago in 1965, overall relations have remained delicate at best. The legacy of Japanese imperialism
is kept alive in a variety of ways, and ethnic prejudices are deeply implanted on both sides. Specific issues,
moreover, have further clouded the atmosphere.
On the economic front, relations are important but troubled. Japanese investment, contrary to that of the United
States and the European Union, has fallen in the recent past. Korea also complains vigorously about its trade deficit
with Japan, which amounted to some $6 billion in the first half of 1997, according to Korean figures. The depreciation
of the Japanese yen, moreover, has affected the competitiveness of Korean exports in such all-important fields
as automobiles and electronics. Not surprisingly, Korea along with others is demanding a more open Japanese market.
High Japanese tariffs on such products as textiles and footwear irritate Korea. In turn Japan urges Korea to end
restrictions on Japanese goods under the import diversification system.
Fishery issues constitute another point of contention. Japan has been urging the revision of the 1965 bilateral
fishing agreement and on July 20, 1996, established an EEZ. No bilateral negotiations on these matters are under
way. Meanwhile, Japanese authorities have seized a number of South Korean fishing boats, charging them with violations
of Japanese territorial waters and evoking sharp protests from Seoul.
At the same time, the acrimony over Tokdo (Tokushima) Island in the East Sea (Sea of Japan) has aroused nationalist
ardor on both sides. A pier has been built by Korean sources on the site, with a strong Japanese protest rebuffed.
On a neighboring island, Ullung, a Tokdo Museum, symbolic of Korean determination on this matter, has been erected.
Meanwhile, the legacy of the past is being kept alive by many events. Recently, for example, an elderly Korean
woman given the appellation Grandma Hun returned to Korea from Cambodia, having been taken there by the Japanese
army some 55 years earlier as a "comfort woman" for soldiers. Her story was widely publicized in the
Korean media, with the charge that some 200,000 women, most of them Koreans, were taken to Southeast Asia and the
Pacific Islands to serve as prostitutes, with no compensation forthcoming and only a handful (reportedly 158) still
alive in Korea.
In mid-July 1997, in an effort to reach a common view of the two nations' past, a joint history project was initiated,
with Korean and Japanese scholars seeking an agreed-on assessment of the colonial era and World War II. The results
of their work will certainly be of interest if consensus can be reached on key matters.
Naturally, Seoul watches trends in Japan-DPRK relations closely. It is well aware that the North has received the
great bulk of foreign remittances from Japanese Koreans with relatives in the DPRK, most of them members of the
pro-North General Federation of Koreans in Japan (Chochongnyon). Investments in the DPRK also continue to come
from this source despite declines owing to unhappiness with developments there. Japan's periodic negotiations with
North Korean authorities have had minimal results so far, although an agreement for limited visitations to Japan
by Japanese wives living in the DPRK has been reached, and Japan finally has agreed to provide some food aid. Japan
insists that it will not move ahead of the ROK and the United States in its relations with the DPRK, but Seoul
will continue to watch the situation closely. Recently, certain legislators from Japan's leading party, the Liberal
Democratic Party, urged that Japan and the DPRK exchange liaison missions in their respective capitals.
Korean authorities have signaled their concern surrounding any expansion of Japanese security commitments. In connection
with the proposed revision of the 1978 U.S.-Japan defense guidelines, Seoul had announced that it hoped the two
countries would consult with it and seek its agreement on changes, with full transparency maintained in connection
with the proceedings. The ROK further stated that it would never accept the engagement of Japan's self-defense
forces in combat on Korean territory.
It is clear that despite recent high-level meetings and calls by individuals such as President Kim Young Sam for
closer relations between the ROK and Japan, these relations will continue to be subject to periodic troubles, and
public attitudes in both countries will provide little support for closer ties. Insofar as Korea is concerned,
virtually the only agreement between South and North lies in their mutual suspicion of Japan. At the same time,
however, economic relations with Japan remain very important to the ROK, and they may become important to the DPRK.
In the KEDO project, Japan is expected to play a major role as a funder. Thus, Korean interests dictate efforts
to reach some accommodation on conflictual issues. As might be expected, the issue of relations with Japan has
been treated in a cautious fashion by the presidential candidates thus far, with virtually no mention of it in
public discourse.
Russia
With Korea's third big neighbor, the Russian Federation, relations have generally improved. On a four-day visit
to Seoul in late July 1997, Russian foreign minister Yevgeny Primakov urged the upholding of the Korean Armistice
pending the adoption of a peace treaty, expressed hope for a peaceful reunification, called for direct dialogue
between South and North, and supported four-party peace talks while expressing the desire that these would be expanded
into an international conference at an appropriate time, with Russia included.
These remarks were entirely in line with South Korean views. Further, an agreement was reached to hold a regular
Korea-Russia dialogue, and there is the possibility of a Yeltsin visit to Seoul in fall 1997, when he visits China.
It was agreed, meanwhile, to establish a direct telephone line between the two presidents.
The discussions with Primakov were made more meaningful because Russian efforts to improve relations with the DPRK
have achieved few results thus far. Pyongyang regards Moscow as a traitor to the socialist cause and an ally who
deserted the DPRK with dire consequences. In truth China handled its transition to a two-Koreas policy much more
suavely. Moreover, Russia cannot afford major relief supplies for the DPRK, and recent efforts by Pyongyang to
obtain Russian military equipment appear to have been unavailing because the DPRK has no funds to pay for such
equipment. Seoul, meanwhile, has accepted a small amount of Russian weaponry in exchange for unpaid debts.
Korean trade and investment in the Russian Federation remain modest because of the troubled nature of the Russian
economy. The Korean private sector, however, has shown some interest in the Russian Far East, and unquestionably,
if economic conditions improve there and elsewhere in the Russian Federation, certain Korean firms will move swiftly,
being greater risk takers than many others. Daewoo, for example, recently signed an agreement to export electronic
switching systems to a city in Rostov Province, seeing this as an opportunity to set up a base in the region.
In sum, there are good reasons to believe that the ROK will continue to hold an edge over the DPRK with respect
to relations with Moscow, despite Russia's hopes that it can restore a genuine two-Koreas policy so as to provide
it with greater leverage in the region. Economic factors as well as political conditions seem likely to keep DPRK-Russian
relations to a very modest level. Meanwhile, ROK relations with Russia will certainly expand if the Russian economy
begins to move forward. Even in the strategic field, Russia might provide a certain balance to Japan and China,
especially given its still sizable forces in the Russian Far East. As is the case with other matters relating to
foreign policy, ROK-Russian Federation relations have received scant attention in the current campaign, but the
few references to Moscow have been positive.
Challenges for a New Administration
In conclusion, what is the broad direction of ROK foreign policy that the new president will inherit? The most
obvious factor is the continuance of the alliance with the United States. However, there is some concern in Seoul
that the U.S. may seek to transfer greater responsibilities to Japan and gradually decrease its own presence. Hence,
the efforts to acquire modern weapons and to establish a stronger independent security capacity have been stepped
up in the recent past.
With respect to China, the thrust will be toward expanding economic ties of all types. In addition, China's support
will be solicited with respect to South-North issues, with the hope that China's interests will dictate policies
that encourage the reform-minded, moderate forces in the DPRK and discourage those who want to pursue a militant
stance.
The approach to Japan is likely to be that of seeking correct relations, with a lower tension level, but without
making major concessions on territorial or other issues. Japan is acknowledged to be economically crucial, in connection
not only with bilateral relations but in such ventures as KEDO. And if the DPRK collapsed, Japan's assistance would
be vital. Potentially, moreover, Japan can be important in influencing the policies of the other major states.
However, Korea does not want to see Japan assume the role of an independent military power, and that position is
not likely to change.
ROK expectations with respect to Russia have been rising recently. In addition to the hope for rapidly expanding
economic intercourse, Seoul sees Moscow as a power that will sooner or later return to the Northeast Asian scene
with greater political and strategic importance. It wants to make certain that the Russian tilt is toward the South
pending Korean reunification.
Meanwhile, ROK economic and political relations with the countries of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations
(ASEAN) will continue to expand, and to be sure, South Korea will take an influential role on occasion in promoting
regionwide economic and political-strategic programs through the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum and the
ASEAN Regional Forum.
Thus, the ROK president who takes office in 1998 will face a vastly strengthened international position for South
Korea in comparison with earlier times. Indeed, the situation has improved noticeably from the time when Kim Young
Sam came to that office five years ago. Nonetheless, Korean foreign policy may be presented with significant challenges
in the course of the next five years. Relations among and between the major powers remain uncertain, and in some
cases, delicate. Moreover, the intentions of these powers are unclear, at least from the perspective of a small
nation in the vortex of their strategic orbit. While economic trends generally hold promise, contentious issues
in this realm will not disappear. Military modernization will advance, and although well short of an arms race,
it will pose new questions about the course to be taken by the ROK, with trends in the DPRK and in American foreign
policy being two crucial variables.
In the most basic sense, however, security for South Korea begins at home. If the more serious economic problems
can be remedied, if an advance can be made from region-centered to national politics, and if the image of Korean
politics can be improved among the Korean people, the Republic of Korea will be strong.
Presidential Elections and
the
Rooting of Democracy
Since 1987 presidential elections have been the defining political moments in Korea. Although local elections may
be more illustrative of the democratic process, for it is that level at which citizens are in intimate contact
with their government and gauge its effectiveness, presidential elections command more attention because of the
nature of Korean political culture. The Korean president has been half king, half chief executive. The cabinet
has been his plaything, changeable at his whim; the legislature to date at most a modest thorn in his side. His
phalanx of staff in the Blue House (the presidential residence) rarely questions his decisions. In his society
he is far more powerful than the president of the United States is in his. There is no vice president in Korea.
Since the formation of the First Republic in 1948, Korea has regularly held presidential elections, despite a student
revolution in 1960 and two military coups in 1961 and 1979. Sometimes these elections were travesties of the democratic
electoral process--procedural exercises rigged to produce administratively dictated results. In 1963 they were
virtually forced on a regime that did not want to hold them by the United States for international public relations
purposes. South Korea is now ruled under what is called the Sixth Republic, reflecting six major changes in the
constitution. These alterations have fundamentally affected how elections for the presidency are held, who elects
the president and for how long, and what the powers of that office and more generally the bureaucracy, which is
controlled by the president, are.
Presidential elections in Korea until 1987 were virtually meaningless, since the winner was clearly foreshadowed.
They provided the window dressing for any regime that needed good international public relations, and they all
did as dictatorial Korea strove to be known as a part of the "free world." But in another, less obvious,
sense, they were profoundly important. Although they had been mandated by the external image that Korea, echoed
by the United States, was trying to portray to the outside world as a democratic state, they were cumulatively
creating a climate and acceptance of procedures and developing what became a clearly felt need for holding such
events and dispelling the cynicism that had become attached to the process. Presidential elections could not be
ignored by even the most dictatorial regime. Not holding elections could be justified only by a national emergency
of profound consequences, such as another peninsular war. Thus, in a sense, political substance followed political
form.
In a number of instances, Korea has moved, inadvertently and sometimes against the best laid plans of the leadership,
in more democratic directions from which there is no return to older, more autocratic, practices. The year 1987
was pivotal for Korea: The nature of the political process and the future of domestic politics changed. But change
was forced on a government reluctant to give up control over both the presidential nomination process, which was
through a heavily controlled and carefully selected number of delegates, and the indirect election of the chief
executive through a similarly managed group.
Responding to an incipient civil rebellion welling in the streets of Seoul and to the admonitions by the United
States to avoid any military action, such as martial law or garrison decree, the dictatorial government of President
Chun Doo Hwan agreed to a set of liberalizations of the political process as articulated on June 29 by his designated
successor, Roh Tae Woo. These included the direct election of the president by the whole electorate, a freer press,
and other rights written into the revised constitution. Although presented as a magnanimous gesture by the government,
these liberalizations were in fact virtually forced on the government by public opinion. What started as a student
campaign had become a widespread movement involving the middle class. It paralleled the end of the Marcos regime
in the Philippines in 1986, when the Makati business community joined the anti-Marcos camp.
Although political campaign financing had been murky and enormous funds illegally transferred, largely in cash,
Roh Tae Woo and the government party won that election, but not because it was fixed. Rather, the leading opposition
candidates, each with a concept of personalized power, could not agree to form a united front and thus split the
opposition vote allowing Roh to win on a plurality.
The 1992 election, the financing of which has not yet been explained and which brought Kim Young Sam to power,
was a fair election that saw the first return to true civilian control in over 30 years; it was not a military
regime in mufti. Kim ran on the government party ticket after having been in opposition all of his political life.
Although many regarded this act as inappropriate, President Kim had the highest popularity rating of any president
in Korean history shortly after his inauguration. The general population was overjoyed by the political progress
that had been made, and the election was greeted with great acclaim.
Two other unplanned events have taken place since that have inadvertently moved the political process forward.
The first was the unanticipated effects of holding local elections for governors, mayors, and county chiefs, as
well as councils at each administrative level, for the first time since 1960. Although touted as "local autonomy,"
and mandated by the revised and liberalized constitution of 1987, this was essentially a misnomer, because real
power still rested at the center. For every elected chief executive, there was an appointed deputy; the judicial,
police, and other powers emanated from the Ministry of Home Affairs or other central authorities, and fiscal autonomy
was severely limited. Yet this very fact of holding local elections will likely cause a welcome and important change
in the political process. Not only will local authorities have to account to their constituents, as expected, but
political parties at the center will no longer be able to mobilize the type of mass support that once was standard
in such elections nor, and even more important for the future, will they retain the capacity to pick candidates
for local elections at the virtual whim of the chair, for many have local constituencies that are no longer dependent
on the center. This unanticipated result will strengthen democratic procedures within political parties, which
are still among the weakest links in the political process.
The most recent unanticipated action that will affect the democratic process was the failure of President Kim Young
Sam, whose administration had become discredited through endemic charges of corruption, to select in July 1997
his nominee as the government party's presidential candidate. For the first time in Korean history there was an
open political convention by the government's party. This event may have both immediate and long-term implications,
particularly on those in office when a new government is elected (a designated successor might help protect an
incumbent). From now on it will be extremely difficult to have the nominating convention dictated by the Blue House,
although the incumbent's influence will still be important. This diffusion of power bodes well for a more democratic
future.
Thus, progress at the local level, the cornerstone of the democratic process, and in the parties has been quite
evident and important in recent Korean history.
The Rooting of Democracy
How deeply rooted, then, are these democratic processes and procedures that have become a part of the Korean political
scene, and what has prompted their development? What of the political culture?
Much of the established wisdom, especially in the United States, is that pluralistic economic systems of private
enterprise lead to pluralistic political systems. Sometimes this process is, incorrectly or simplistically, attributed
to Korea. There seems little doubt that over the long term private sector economic growth does put pressures on
political systems to become more open, transparent, and responsive. During much of the era of the republics, the
government, through complete and subsequently major control of the institutionalized credit systems and manipulation
of corporate leadership, was able to impose its will on the economy and the large chaebol, or conglomerates, which indeed it helped to create to serve state
purposes. If the export drive is calculated from the coup of 1961, then it took 26 years for political liberalization.
(In Taiwan, it took even longer--from 1949 to 1992.) Rather than private sector causes, there were other complex
factors at play in the rooting of democracy, although in Korea the private sector was not irrelevant and will be
expected to play a far more active role in politics.
One important element was urbanization, not just the increased incomes and sophistication of an electorate, but
also the very fact of urbanization itself. In 1961, when Park Chung Hee launched his coup, Korea was only 25 percent
urban. With complete control over institutional credit, the ability to subsidize rice production and control producer
prices through government purchases, and close surveillance of the rural population, the state had a firm grip
over the hinterland. As a result virtually no opposition politicians from rural constituencies were elected to
the National Assembly, which was weighted toward the rural sector in any case. By the late 1980s the population
had become 75 percent urban. The election of opposition political candidates from major metropolitan areas, even
their political domination of some of these urban areas, was long-standing. With urbanization went loss of government
control over the political process.
This loss of control was only partly a result of a lack of dependence on government-controlled credit. It was prompted
by a variety of important factors, such as the rise in levels of urban education, the growth and availability of
foreign and domestic information, and the increase in incomes along with the development of a real middle class
that was calculated in the late 1980s at about 55 percent. Changes in other countries also were not lost on Korea;
the Philippines' "people power revolution" of 1986 was, if not a model, an inspiration. Park Chung Hee
had had offensive news in the foreign press inked out by hand and suppressed local news reporting on foreign revolutions,
but new and widespread technology made this impossible and counterproductive. Previous regimes had assiduously
attempted to regulate and control the development of civil society through both positive incentives and intimidation.
Park Chung Hee forced the establishment of umbrella professional organizations into which he placed compliant leadership.
Private organizations could be shut down under various types of sweeping legislation or simply by fiat, while organizations
that served the state's interests could be co-opted through financial support. The Korean Central Intelligence
Agency (KCIA) was ubiquitous. The assassination of Park in 1979 (ironically by the head of the KCIA) provided a
narrow window for liberalization that was closed by the Chun Doo Hwan coup of December 12, 1979. But civil society--autonomous
nongovernmental, voluntary, advocacy, and professional associations--was expanding. By the time of the official
liberalization in 1987, these groups were beginning to exercise considerable independence and were taking positions
at variance with government policies. The ability of the state to control organizational views was severely constrained
by the perceived internal lack of polititical legitimacy of the Chun Doo Hwan regime.
Pluralism has since flourished. There are probably many thousands of nongovernmental organizations throughout the
country (about 3,000 of the larger groups are listed in a directory of Korean nongovernmental organizations). Such
organizations range from those operating at local levels to national organizations advocating public policies of
various kinds--from the more rigorous enforcement of legislation on the environment, consumer protection, or women's
rights to calls for fundamental shifts in the economy or political processes. It is evident that, short of conflict
on the peninsula, pluralism and civil society are now deeply rooted in Korea.
So are other institutions of the democratic process. There is a universal electorate that exercises its votes in
high percentages that would be most welcome in the United States. There is a vibrant National Assembly, which,
despite its limited power in practice owing to virtually sacrosanct major budgetary allocations such as defense,
is a critical sounding board for accountability in the bureaucracy and in the political process. The judiciary,
although subject to government pressures and influence through its recruitment and financing, is freer than ever
and even occasionally finds against the state, while the Constitutional Court, a product of liberalization, has
occasionally declared government-sponsored legislation unconstitutional. The press is more self-censored and less
directly controlled than it has ever been. Political parties multiply, coalesce, and transform themselves with
astonishing speed and regularity.
One critical element in this transformation has been the retreat of the military to the barracks. Without incident,
they have relinquished power, and the threat of a coup or other military action short of war is highly unlikely.
In the process toward democratization, and in comparison with worldwide trends showing military rulers to be most
reluctant to retire from power, this must be considered a major achievement of Korean society.
Thus, Korea is today a pluralistic, procedural democracy. All the institutions that make for democratic governance
are in place, and many function reasonably well. But the demise of authoritarianism in Korea should not be equated
with effective democracy; their relationship is more nuanced. Korea, to put it differently, is on the path of democratization,
and although the democratic process may be expected to grow and mature (not without trauma), there are still important
gaps in the system that prevent Korea from being called an unqualified democratic society.
Issues of Democratic Deepening
The myriad definitions of democracy vary depending on cultural factors and political persuasion. Democracy has
become a hyphenated term, modified by various regimes to suit their particular prejudices and political purposes.
The ultimate test of democracy, if not its definition, is whether there is a peaceful change of administration
among or between political parties (not between factions of the same party) through the electoral process. This
has occurred in Asia only occasionally and only in a few countries: the Philippines, India, Sri Lanka (not without
setbacks and problems in each), and most recently Japan.
Korea has yet to experience this change but may do so at this election. This very possibility is a testament to
Korean political progress. If it occurs, it will be a watershed in Korean political history. This potential change
of administration is remarkable for two reasons: First, the military is in no position to act (one of the potential
winners, Kim Dae Jung, was not long ago anathema to it and had been jailed on several occasions and sentenced to
death); and second, the Korean political party lineup was redesigned in January 1990 specifically to prevent a
different administration from coming to power. Using the Japanese model of the Liberal Democratic Party, whose
power at that time seemed permanent but has since proved ephemeral, the government's Democratic Republican Party
brought into it two leading political contenders, Kim Young Sam and Kim Jong Pil, together with many of their followers,
with the idea that following the Roh Tae Woo presidency (1988-92) a parliamentary system would be inaugurated,
with a ceremonial president (Korean presidents serve only one term of five years) and a powerful prime minister
who would not be subject to term limitations. Thus political leadership would be rotated among the various factions
of the government's party for an indefinite period. The plan did not succeed, as Kim Young Sam is said to have
reneged on his consent to it.
The issues of the deepening of democracy relate most basically, however, to the political culture. Two factors
are paramount and fundamental. The first is the conception of the role of power and authority; the second is the
concept of the relation of the state to civil society and to the individual, and thus the social space between
the institutions of governance and the individual and collective citizenry.
Personalization of Power
The processes of political and economic development do not necessarily proceed symmetrically. Economic growth may
occur while political institutions stagnate, at least for a considerable period. So, too, the functions of institutions
may become modernized, but their administration and the attitudes toward the distribution of power and authority
may be very traditional. A Korean scholar once said that Koreans operate with Western hardware and Confucian software.
He meant that although industrial empires have been built on high technology and appear most modern, the attitudes
toward the locus, distribution, extent, and use of power are very traditional.
This is, of course, not unique to Korea; many societies retain traditional aspects of authority, and no society
is homogenous in its concepts of power. Yet foreign observers are sometimes unconsciously misled by the image of
a modern, vibrant Korea without realizing that behind that facade are some deeply ingrained traditional values,
not only of a societal nature, but also of the operation of power. Obviously, no society is static, and no one
would ever accuse Korea of being so. Attitudes are in transition, which creates yet another set of tensions, and
no society is completely traditional or modern--the issue is one of emphasis and where a particular culture is
placed along a shifting spectrum of attitudes toward power.
Power in Korea is conceived of as finite, there being only a limited supply. To share it is to diminish one's own
stock. In a "modern" administrative system, power is conceived of as infinite--thus sharing may prompt
the accrual of even greater amou
