Failure of followership

By Jason Lim

Two years ago, I published a column titled, “Korea’s CULTural Exceptionalism,” describing the country’s tendency towards a "Korean Messianic Exceptionalism" that pervades all aspects of its modern culture. It manifests in a typical visionary, ethnocentric narrative that says that the Korean people, having emerged intact and whole through 2,000 years of trials and tribulations that culminated in the forced subjugation by the Japanese, will now attain greatness and take their rightful place as leaders of mankind.

This narrative is not limited to religious and spiritual kooks but is widely adapted for use in all aspects of Korean life, ranging from politics to business. This is how I concluded my column back then:

“This tendency is even more pronounced in politics, in which formal political parties take a backseat to strong personalities who are considered visionaries that will lead Korea to her deserving greatness. In fact, cults of personalities ― recall the dictatorships of Park and Chun and the dominance of the Three Kims in the 1990’s ― drive political dynamics far more than whether you are a Democrat or Republican. Today, this tendency manifests itself in the Imperial Presidency in which officials are seen to be more loyal to the person of the president rather than to the office. Of course, an extreme example of such cultish political leadership is seen just across the 38th parallel in what Kim Il-sung has so masterfully built in the Juche system of leadership that turned the whole country into a messianic cult.”

In light of what’s happened to Korean politics this week, I must admit that the above is an understatement. However, I don’t want to make assumptions about how the daughter of a cult leader allegedly ended up having a big say over the inner workings of Cheong Wa Dae. Suffice to say that it’s a mess and an embarrassment.

What’s happening is certainly a failure of leadership. However, it’s a bigger failure of followership. There is a Korean tendency to deify its leaders and confer on them infallible powers of perspicacity and wisdom in all matters. When the leader is omniscient, there is no need for advisers. After all, why does a god need advice when all that’s needed are worshippers doing his or her bidding without questions? All god needs is unquestioned obedience.

A cult of personality leadership is fundamentally inconsistent with a democratic society that depends on checks and balances. Democracy is certainly messy and slow, but it must allow for different, diverse voices to be heard. It has to be inclusive to be representational. The decision-making process has to be transparent.

But when the inner circle surrounding the leader becomes trust-based to the person of the leader, not merit-based to the needs of the role, then the formal decision-making process is vulnerable to opaqueness and, even worse, hijacking to serve the needs of particular individuals rather than the interest of the nation and people.

This isn’t necessarily a unique problem to Korea, of course. However, it’s amplified by Korean culture’s seeming propensity to take someone who is rich and/or powerful and elevate them to some superhuman status without even a cursory examination of qualifications or experience. It’s almost as if the Korean people, in their quest to find the promised Messiah to deliver them to a Korea-centric Promised Land, are looking for signs in all the wrong places.

Equating worth with money or power is actually a by-product of Korea’s Miracle on the Han. As I wrote before, the “Miracle of the Han is usually considered to be the greatest achievements in modern Korean history, transforming the impoverished country into one of the richest in a single generation. But such a dizzying, headlong journey to capitalism and industrialization can't be without side effects. And one of the biggest is the tendency to equate wealth with worth… The wealthy become the new aristocracy, remaking the larger society into a bubble that caters to their interest and continued privilege, while the rest become a dispensable commodity to serve their needs. Not unlike how it was in Joseon.”

It’s a self-destructive cultural equation. The wealthy and powerful are worth more than others. They are therefore deified to godlike status. They cannot be questioned and must be obeyed.

The really devious part of this equation is that the leader inevitably buys into it. Admittedly, it’s hugely tempting. Who doesn’t feel good about being made infallible? When everything you utter is received as precious pearls of wisdom, how can you stay levelheaded and maintain an inner awareness to rebalance yourself? It’s tough to see when you are blinded by visions of grandeur. Unfortunately, it’s the followers who are shining the light in your eyes.

Jason Lim is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture. He has been writing for The Korea Times since 2006. Reach him at jasonlim@msn.com, facebook. com/jasonlimkoreatimes or @jasonlim2012.