In addition to the recurrent scenes of bursting tear gas canisters and massive antigovernment protests that have kept South Korea on the front pages for more than two weeks, the most striking thing about the turmoil that has swept this nation has been the absence of any sense of political compromise.
Though that might be surprising to those unfamiliar with South Korean politics, diplomats, business leaders and others with decades of experience here say the lack of political subtlety and an apparently innate inability to give an inch are about as Korean as the spicy dish of kimchi and rice.
”There is no real word in the Korean language for `subtle,` ” a Western diplomat said. ”And as for compromise, the Korean concept of that is when you have the upper hand, you keep beating your enemy until he expires. And when you are in a position of weakness, you keep asking for compromise until you get into a position of strength. At that point, you conveniently forget what compromise is.”
That has been obvious as events have unfolded here. Two months ago, it was President Chun Doo Hwan and his ruling Democratic Justice Party (DJF) that held most of the cards in South Korea. For almost seven years, Chun and the mostly American-trained economists and bureaucrats running one of the world`s fastest-growing economies had enjoyed at least benign support from a majority of Koreans, who have seen themselves develop into the country`s first middle class.
But on April 13, when Chun, citing ”security reasons,” suspended a year of fruitless debate on constitutional revision and election reform until after the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, a perceptible shift began to occur.
Public support for the opposition, which has never enjoyed widespread popularity, began to increase. That support seemed to peak last weekend when thousands of workers shouted encouragement at students who engaged police in pitched street battles across this nation.
”This is the kind of politics most Korean people know best–the politics of violent overthrow, of no compromise, of blood,” said a student activist named Choi. ”Why is that the case? Because those in power have never allowed it to be any other way.”
However, last week, in an unprecedented attempt at compromise, President Chun met with opposition leader Kim Young Sam, Roman Catholic Stephen Cardinal Kim Sou Hwan and other opposition leaders.
It was one of the few times since he assumed power in 1980, following the assassination the previous year of President Park Chung Hee, that Chun had shown any willingness to use dialogue rather than force in dealing with domestic turmoil.
In 1980, during similar demonstrations in the southern city of Kwangju, Chun called out the army–a move that left at least 200 dead in the worst violence here since the Korean War.
But the prime motivation for the Chun meetings was not a sense of newfound democratic fervor. They came as a result of force and the threat of even more violent confrontations.
Late last week, as diplomats and domestic politicians were attempting to analyze the events of the last 15 days, they all agreed on one thing: The demonstrations, as volatile and as gut-wrenching as they were, did bring both sides to the table.
”People really shouldn`t get the wrong idea about all this, however,” a European diplomat insisted. ”Several thousand street demonstrators are not going to overthrow the South Korean government, and the protesters didn`t realistically expect that. What they did was to embarrass Chun and to raise questions worldwide about South Korea`s ability to put on the Olympic Games.” They did something else, too. They gave the Reunification Democratic Party (RDF), the chief opposition party founded two months ago by Kim Young Sam and Kim Dae Jung, a new stature. Chun couldn`t very well negotiate with mobs of essentially leaderless protesters, so he was forced to talk to Kim and other opposition leaders–all of whom, whether they admit it or not, were carried into the meetings at the presidential Blue House on the backs of South Korea`s antigovernment students.
Before Kim Young Sam sat down with Chun last Wednesday in their historic first-ever meeting, Kim was asked why his opposition RDF and Chun`s ruling DJP couldn`t work out a peaceful and reasoned agenda for the democratization of South Korea.
”Westerners just don`t understand the Korean political process,” Kim told a reporter. ”Your concept of reason is different from ours. Here, the one who has power dictates what is reasonable and everybody else is unreasonable.”
Kim`s assessment could be a one-line definition of South Korean politics since this nation was founded in 1948.
Not once has there been a peaceful transfer of power, nor has this country been able to embrace the concept of a loyal opposition. As a result, not one South Korean alive today has ever experienced the rational process of government enjoyed by Japanese, West Germans or Americans.
”Nobody wants to give an inch, because giving an inch in Korea is perceived as weakness, and in this society only strength and power are respected,” said university professor Chae Hyun Soo. ”That is the biggest difference between America and Korea. In America, you do not lose face by compromising or displaying patience. Here, you do.”
That was evident by events that followed the Chun-Kim meeting last week. The government, eager to show the president`s benevolence, cited Chun`s decision to allow debate on constitutional revision to continue, to release 230 demonstrators arrested during the recent wave of protests and to lift the 78-day house arrest of dissident Kim Dae Jung.
Other issues, such as a national referendum on the restructuring of the government and the direct election of the president, were ”taken under consideration.”
From the government perspective, this was a grand compromise and should have mollified both the organized opposition and the students.
It didn`t.
Kim and the opposition termed the talks a failure and promised renewed nationwide protests. Though many within the opposition, including Lee Min Woo, president of the New Korea Democratic Party, agreed that Chun had shown uncharacteristic flexibility by rescinding his April 13 order, that was not enough.
Chun repeatedly has vowed to step down as president next February. But he already has picked his successor, Roh Tae Woo, whose confirmation by the ruling DJP-dominated electoral college is all but assured. Direct presidential elections conceivably would not occur for another seven years.
Many, including U.S. Assistant Secretary of State Gaston Sigur, have argued that Kim and others should take up Chun on his offer for more talks and try to achieve change through dialogue.
”We have just hit the government with a tremendous punch,” an opposition party official said. ”Why end the fight when the foe is staggering?”
But by the weekend, the ”staggering foe” already was swinging back. When the opposition refused to cancel a ”march for democracy” Friday, Chun ordered Kim Dae Jung returned to house arrest for 31 hours and raised the possibility of tougher tactics.
”It looks to me like the opposition would like nothing better than to force Chun to declare martial law,” the Western diplomat said. ”If that happens, they feel he will be thoroughly discredited and shamed. And for some people, at least, that seems to be a more important goal than achieving democracy through dialogue.”
