Saving prosecution's face

By Michael Bergmann

Some say my judgment on the Korean justice system and the state of truth and human dignity in this country is too harsh. Others sent me even more outrageous examples in reaction to my previous article. And some advised me to just share their resignation.

The Korean friends in my neighborhood have widely surrendered to the local power group which is ruling the area and intimidating its residents and business owners. Some have fought for years, only to realize that the authorities don't really care.

Some tried to get media attention, only to hear that the management of urban territories in shared private ownership is a general mess and a swamp of corruption ― and that our case is, for that reason, not particularly interesting! And yes, there is comfort in ignorance.

Some fellow expats ironically cheered my idealism, but indirectly asked: What else did you expect? Indeed, I expected better, probably because, during my first 10 years in Korea, I had little to do with people in power. I saw a civil society that appeared critical, open and unafraid.

The serious problem with malicious criminal accusations is ― and that is the strategy of such power groups ― the terror and embarrassment which they cause regardless of one's guilt or innocence. It is hard for outsiders to see through the individual case. That's why conscientious judicial procedures are so crucial for trust in a society.

But are judges not independent in Korea, obliged only to the law and their conscience? Does the prosecution not have to prove the defendant's guilt? Is there no presumption of innocence?

"In theory" is our lawyer's ominous standard answer. In reality, the only chance to be cleared of wrong accusations is during the police investigation. If police, for whatever reason, decide to believe the other side and to even ignore your evidence to the contrary, there will be no way back as soon as the prosecution issues the penalty order. All honest lawyers in Korea should clearly admit that the only thing they can do for you at this stage, however innocent you might be, is to beg for mercy and mild punishment.

The reason is simple: An acquittal would restore the dignity of an innocent defendant, but also cause some professional inconvenience for the prosecutor. A "sentence suspension" is no comfort to someone who has been defamed by the state on behalf of private accusers. But it makes any disciplinary complaint against negligent or biased law-enforcement officers effectively go nowhere. "Punishing the wrong one mildly for internal harmony's sake" ― can that be the wisdom of a judge?

Saving the face of professional colleagues is the opposite of a general respect for truth and human dignity. I have lost my sense of safety here. But I still trust that most Koreans will consider power abuse incompatible with their culture.

The author (bergmann2473@yahoo.de) is a teacher in Seoul.