Observations about Park Chung-hee

By Richard Pennington

Having visited former President Park Chung-hee's birthplace in Gumi, North Gyeongsang Province and the Park Chung-hee Presidential Library and Museum in Seoul twice, and having read Lee Chong-sik's biography of him along with a mountain of other material, I would like to proffer my views on this man ― the most significant figure in modern Korean history. He is loved by some and loathed by others, but forgotten by none.

Park staged a military coup in 1961 and installed himself as the country's de facto ruler, taking over from a government that had long been in disarray. Octogenarian Syngman Rhee, president since 1948, seemed to have no vision and no plan, and even if he did he could not get things done. His successor, Yun Bo-seon, was hamstrung by political infighting, and thus Park ― “a short man but whose visage indicated 'I mean business'” ― took control.

President John Kennedy reluctantly acknowledged Park's new regime, but many Americans wondered why nearly a decade after the conclusion of the Korean War the Republic of Korea (ROK) government was being run by a military dictator. He instituted a curfew that lasted 26 years, for crying out loud.

Park jailed numerous people without trial, used torture freely and dismissed the National Assembly whenever it was insufficiently docile. He abused the electoral system without shame; in the 1971 presidential election, he devoted 10 percent of the national budget to ensure that he remained in office.

Just as that is not a complete list of his sins, what follows is a mere summary of the good he did. Park hired some foreign-trained economic specialists and listened to them. In the mid-1960s, to the amazement of just about the entire world, South Korea's economy began to boom. He employed loans and other forms of assistance from Europe and the United States, and money paid by Japan to atone for its brutal 36-year colonial reign to build the country's infrastructure.

It was not just Seoul and Busan (and Gumi) that flourished; he instituted the Saemaeul Movement wherein dozens of rural villages experienced growth and a far better quality of life. Korea became self-sufficient in terms of rice, the armed forces were strengthened, and areas that had been denuded after the Korean War were seeded with trees. A nation that previously could not provide for itself soon did that and more, becoming a major exporter. (Admittedly though, Park had little concern for free trade.)

One of the best examples of Park's abilities and can-do attitude pertains to the Gyeongbu Expressway, the highway running between Seoul and Busan. He came up with the idea after visiting West Germany in 1964 and driving on the autobahn. When Park first proposed the highway, many people ― quietly ― scoffed. This could not be done, it would be too expensive, and nobody would use it since Korea had so few cars. It would almost certainly be a boondoggle.

Park ignored them, drew up plans, and work commenced. He was essentially the self-appointed foreman of the project, with 24-hour-a-day crews. It was completed in just over two years, and what do you think happened? The highway, well used from the start, was an economic engine and tangible evidence that Korea was up to the task.

The military had been involved, as had the chaebol, and valuable experience was gained in building not just roads but bridges and tunnels. Other large-scale civil engineering projects were boldly undertaken. Korean firms began to contend for and sign multi-billion-dollar contracts with foreign countries.

In the same way, few thought Korea could become a steelmaker, but Park said, “Stand back, non-believers” and started POSCO in Pohang. It is today the fourth-biggest steelmaker in the world. Korea is a leader in shipbuilding, car production, chemicals and other heavy industries primarily because of Park. It must also be mentioned that Park was an honest man.

Sure, there were scandals and corruption was not eliminated. If anything, a culture of corruption grew over the course of his regime. But Park himself lived simply and would not entertain any thought of luxury. Men who tried to bribe him got nice, long prison sentences.

Park, who often lamented that Syngman Rhee stayed too long (12 years) did him one better by hunkering down at the Blue House for 18 years. Rhee had wrongly considered himself indispensable, and yet Park did the very same thing. An attempt on his life in 1974 failed but did to kill his wife, Yuk Young-su.

It was done while he was giving a nationally broadcast speech on Independence Day; incredibly, he finished his speech before going to check on his wife. Park's time came in 1979 when an inside man, his hand-picked director of the intelligence agency, shot him to death during a boozy dinner banquet. Thirty-four years later, Park Geun-hye was elected to the nation's highest office primarily on the basis of being his daughter.

Richard Pennington (raput76@gmail.com), a native of Texas in the U.S., works as an editor at a law firm in southern Seoul. He is the author of 23 nonfiction books. The most recent is “Travels of an American-Korean, 2014-2020,” published by JisikGonggam. The views expressed in the above article are the author's own and do not reflect the editorial direction of The Korea Times.