Bong Joon-ho for president?
Bong Joon-ho, director of Oscar-winning "Parasite," laughs during a press conference in Seoul, Wednesday, Feb. 19, 2020. Bong said Wednesday "the biggest pleasure and the most significant meaning" that the film has brought to him was its success in many countries although the audiences might feel uncomfortable with his explicit description of a bitter wealth disparity in modern society. AP
By Bae Sung-eun and David Tizzard
Korean culture is experiencing a zenith: from Bong Joon-ho and BTS, to Son Heung-min and Cho Nam-joo, people all over the world are standing up and applauding the cultural achievements of this country. Yet the political environment still disappoints many.
Elections, in most countries, are kind of like interviews. The public serves as the interviewers while the various political candidates become interviewees.
We, the public, are then required to evaluate each candidate's pledges and promises and determine whether or not we believe if they genuinely have the ability to put these into practice. Then at the culmination of the process, we choose our “employee.”
But here in Korea, there have been some changes toward elections of late. Instead of being like interviews, they are now akin to violent battles one might see in the UFC. Or perhaps the famous one-take corridor fight sequence in Park Chan-wook's “Oldboy.”
We, the public, are no longer judges of candidates' ability; we have become a mere bystander waiting to see who lands the most punches, who hurts their opponent most, and ultimately who emerges victorious from a violent struggle that carries serious consequences.
The next main event is South Korea's 21st legislative election which will be held on April 15. In total, 300 members for the country's National Assembly will be chosen: 253 from first-past-the-post constituencies and 47 from proportional party lists.
With Korea's social cleavages becoming more and more visible, particularly along political lines, similar scenes to those in December of last year when scuffles and protests broke out around the speaker's podium and security guards were called into the National Assembly might again fill our screens and newspapers.
Those altercations were the result of the government fast-tracking two bills through parliament that it believed were necessary for the country's prosperity ― if not its own continued political success. The first was the lowering of the voting age from 19 to 18, something which will surely provide more support to those with progressive and liberal views; the second was the introduction of a new law affecting how National Assembly seats will be assigned according to proportional representation.
That particular law has been introduced to boost the presence of minor parties by giving them more chance of winning some of the 47 seats available. This has greatly angered the main opposition conservative party ― although what doesn't?
Whether a country should adopt a 'first-past-the-post' system (FPTP) or proportional representation has been debated across much of the world. Back in 1861, John Stuart Mill famously argued that minorities need to be represented in government even if they have not secured enough votes to win an election or specific seat. He probably has a point.
Korea's recent change now allows for 15 percent to be elected in such a manner, yet most candidates still compete under the FPTP method as they do in Canada, the U.S., and the U.K. Conversely, most other European democracies have already greatly increased the use of proportional representation.
In response to this recent change, three conservative parties in the country have not only unified, they have ― in time-honored Korean tradition ― changed their name, color, and their logo.
The main opposition, the Liberty Korea Party,? as well as the New Conservative Party and the Advance on Party (what a name!), merged to form the United Front Party, ending the previous split between centrists and more right-wing politicians.
But why have they changed their party name? Why have they united under a different banner for the upcoming elections? Are they reformed? Are they improved? Have they done some “spec-up” as is required of any South Korean trying to survive in this most competitive of societies? Or have they just changed the color of their neck ties?
This is the sixth new name in three decades for the main conservative party in South Korea as it tries to shake off election defeats and scandals. With many of the same faces occupying positions in the party, however, some have suggested it is simply business as always and a return to the Saenuri Party loyalists who vigorously opposed the impeachment of President Park Geun-hye.
The right-wing in South Korea has been in disarray since the impeachment and imprisonment of ex-President Park in 2017. She was sentenced to 25 years inside while another former conservative ex-President Lee Myung-bak just had his sentence increased to 17 years.
Considering their ages, both are effectively death sentences.
In response, some conservatives have said that if they gain enough seats in April's election they will lead a move to impeach President Moon ― particularly over the continuing revelations regarding the recent election of the mayor of Ulsan. These moves are primarily being led by conservative floor leader Sim Jae-cheol, who replaced the omnipresent figure of Na Kyung-won late last year.
A more shocking and confusing announcement emerged this week, when it was revealed that former North Korean diplomat Thae Yong-ho is running for election in April with the newly united conservative party. Thae has frequently criticized the DPRK for its human rights violations and nuclear weapons program since defecting to Seoul in 2016, and his presence in the media is only likely to increase as voting time draws near.
Just like the party, he has also changed his name, running under the moniker Tae Gu-min: a name chosen to reflect his desire to “save the people.”
The conservatives have had North Koreans on their books before, however. Jo Myoung-chul studied at Kim Il-sung University before defecting to the South and later serving the Saenuri Party as a proportional representative.
But what about the ruling Democratic Party? It is are embroiled in troubles of its own ―- not least the Covid19 disease, which has grown in severity and numbers since President Moon announced a week ago that it was nearly contained and time to look forward to economic matters.
And it is the economy that has been one of the party's biggest obstacles. Despite an array of sweeping reforms, ranging from individual working hours and salaries to property and bank arrangements, the country has had negative growth and record-high unemployment, particularly among youth.
The Cho Guk scandal is also still lingering in the party and causing internal conflicts, so much so that many observers have declared it a “Cho Guk Civil War.. These latest hostilities came to light following a clash in the party between Geum Tae-seop and Kim Nam-gook over nomination for the Gangseo District of Seoul.
With previous candidate Jeong Bong-joo having dropped out of the running because of his involvement in another MeToo controversy for the party, Geum Tae-seop seemed the only viable candidate for the ruling party.
Yet the party quickly placed Kim Nam-gook in the front-running position in order to challenge Geum. Why?
As information surrounding the former Justice Minister came to light, Geum Tae-seop spoke out and criticized Cho Guk. In doing so he veered from the main party line and this did not endear him to those in power.
It even prompted Jeong Bong-joo to claim that Geum was nothing more than a member of the conservative party pretending to be a democrat. Political treason is a hefty charge anywhere in the world.
Criticism of the current administration has long been a bone of contention. Despite positioning itself as a champion of democracy and human rights, it has occasionally moved to silence certain public complaints while also embracing the North at every possible turn despite the lack of any freedoms north of the DMZ.
The most recent case involved Korea University Professor Lim Mi-ri and her opinion column in the Kyunghyang Shinmun on January 29.
Lim accused the government of “being preoccupied with its grip on power rather than with people's aspirations, even though it claims it is a regime for the people.” She ended her column by proposing the public vote for a different party in the upcoming election.
In a world of Trump tweets and outlandish claims and fake news, it does not seem the most horrendous thing for a public figure to express, yet the ruling Democratic Party placed charges against the professor and the newspaper for violating the election law.
When news of this emerged, many rallied behind Lim, not necessarily because of her political views, but because of the necessity of free speech in a country that fought so hard to gain such essential political rights. The charges against Lim and the paper have since been dropped without apology, but one must ask why they were even brought in the first place.
South Korea's politicians are fighting among themselves, fighting the opposition parties, and now even fighting some of the political observers, academics and newspapers.
And through all of this we are left with the feeling that they define “winning” as that which occurs when they harm or damage their opponents ― a zero-sum game for the elites while the “pigs and dogs” watch on.
However, should we really be using such words in domestic politics? Are we not all on the same side: that of South Korea?
Especially with the Covid19 disease becoming more widespread in the country, can the politicians not come together and work for the best of the people without politicizing everything and trying to turn everything into a photo opportunity? You would think an external threat would be a great unifier, but we are not yet seeing it.
Politics should improve citizen's lives and fortunes. Our representatives should be more focused on earning plaudits rather than damaging their opponents and protecting their own careers.
Is such a thing possible? Can we ask those charged with the custody of the nation to behave in the same way we expect of our classmates and colleagues in society?
A recent report showed that more than 30 percent of those running for office have a criminal conviction. Neither their past nor their current behavior is likely to win the hearts and minds of the country's youth and create a stronger democratic political environment.
Perhaps they will soon mature enough to learn to cooperate for the good of the one nation that they are tasked with serving. But perhaps they will not.
Perhaps we should just make Bong Joon-ho president and let him direct the nation's narrative through the medium of film? More people would watch it, it might win a few more awards, and then we would really understand who the parasites of the country are.
After all, with much of the country masked and fearing for their safety amid the rising numbers of those infected, it already feels like we are living in a movie.
Bae Sung-eun is an Economics major at Seoul Women's University David Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) is an assistant professor at Seoul Women's University and lectures in politics and history and Hanyang University. He presents economic and cultural issues on "Business Now" on TBS eFM (101.3FM) live every Wednesday from 6:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m.