Why upcoming regional elections matter more than ever
I have written on several occasions about state policies and their success. They depend on both vertical and horizontal organized efforts. The same applies to the vision that President Lee Jae Myung holds. It will only become reality if all dimensions of the country come together: state, business and society. In order to succeed, the policies must also work in regions outside Seoul. Right now, however, the regions are in chaos, to put it mildly. Local primaries are choked with an unprecedented tide of candidates — sometimes a dozen vying for a single mayoral seat. The only hope is that these nominees can truly achieve ideological alignment and pare themselves down. Unfortunately, we are seeing gruesome internal factionalism, and these in-party conflicts have become so bad that some protest groups are delivering coffins to the party headquarters.
This regional disarray echoes the turmoil at Samsung, where management has been locked in a fierce fight with labor over profit sharing. To me, it all stems from the DNA of the company and its corporate values. Samsung management has historically treated labor as an abstract — and most importantly, separate — entity.
Contrast this with SK hynix. Established in the early 1980s, the company appealed to its workers for support in times of difficulty, asking them to defer or even cut salary payments, with the promise to share profits fairly later. The workers delivered and supported the company. Now, when the semiconductor industry is enjoying its golden age in terms of profits, workers at SK are reaping the rewards. The company isn't afraid of its workers benefitting, because at the end of the day everyone cares about the success of the company and is willing to put their money back into the company. These workers see themselves as part of the company. Hence, the stock prices are skyrocketing.
At Samsung, management considers its workers a dispensable resource, not a part of the company. They are "them." As a result, there is conflict. I totally get it — as a worker, why should I break my back, even with a good salary, for the sake of corporate enrichment? That's why the workers won't budge. Samsung often cites shareholder value as a defense, but compare the stock growth at SK hynix and you will see a completely different picture.
Here, I’m talking about corporate social responsibility. And I'm not preaching socialism — it is an important aspect of any modern business. Companies do not exist in a vacuum; they are an integral part of society. Like it or not, they are associated with certain values and attitudes. Samsung is no different.
I'm not saying that SK hynix has no issues, but at least it doesn't have the one that Samsung has. Just imagine what will happen if Samsung attempts to even partially integrate SK values into its charter — it will be a brand-new Samsung, with everyone celebrating, including management, workers and shareholders. But today, my hunch is Samsung workers are secretly buying SK hynix stock.
The case of Samsung is very much a reflection of societal and political division in South Korea. People generally want to see themselves as part of a country, not as a number found in a polling percentage.
This brings us to a deeper malady: institutional fatigue. The concept isn't new — we have studied bureaucratic corruption for decades, but now it is becoming more crystallized. Democracy is not a given, and in order to thrive, its institutions need upkeep and periodical revision. The system is faltering. Parties, electoral commissions, even civil organizations are all open to misrepresentation and even misuse.
Another phenomenon that has become more apparent is the inability of the political establishment to tap into the mood of the populace. The elites have become desynchronized. You can easily notice this in the anxious leadership of the main opposition People Power Party, while the Democratic Party of Korea’s internal mechanics have become murky and unpredictable, stoking fears of factional division.
Recent regional developments point toward a delicate shift in inter-Korean relations. In these relationships, trust is the only currency that matters. But trust cannot be built on shifting sand. If Seoul cannot manage its own internal contradictions — if our regional elections are chaotic, our premier corporations are warring with their own workers, our political elites are locked in their own bubbles — then why should Pyongyang view us as a stable, independent partner? True sovereignty means getting our own house in order first. Only when we put our hearts and minds together and bridge our own societal divisions will our words carry weight across the DMZ.
Eugene Lee (mreulee@gmail.com) is a lecturing professor at the Graduate School of Governance at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul. Specializing in international relations and governance, his research and teaching focus is on national and regional security, international development, government policies and Northeast and Central Asia. The views expressed in this article are his own.