Let me introduce Korea's next president

Yoo Jae-seok is a comedian extraordinaire, respected and well mannered. Yonhap

By Oh Young-jin

Don't we fancy having a president, who is not a professional politician or former Army general but a comic like Volodymyr Zelensky, the newly elected Ukrainian head of state?

Throw in a Cabinet of funny guys and an entertainer as National Assembly speaker and chances are that there would be more things to laugh at than now.

Considering the current political stalemate that gets nothing done and makes life stressful for everybody, the alternative ― a comic cast of government leaders ― could prove tempting.

Of course, there is no question that the incumbent president's tenure is respected and protected. Suggesting otherwise would be a disruption to the constitutional order and an act of sedition.

The Ukrainian president-elect swept to a landslide victory, a no-confidence vote by voters for the familiar faces of the nation's political landscape. Zelesky plays the role of history teacher becoming president by accident after his classroom anti-corruption rants are filmed by a student on a smartphone and go viral when posted.

The title of the Zelesky drama is, appropriately, the Servant of the People.

So what is the cause of the Zelesky victory? First and foremost, it is about voter disillusionment about politics as usual ― corruption, bickering, inefficiency, etc.

It is not limited to Ukraine. In the U.S., Donald Trump, host of the reality show, "The Apprentice," got elected as president.

As is the same with Zelesky, Trump talked about "draining the swamp" in his populist bid to disrupt "business as usual" but as things stand now, two years after his inauguration, it looks as if the "drain is being swamped" so to speak.

Still, he stands a good chance of getting re-elected not just because of the disarray among the Democrats but the popular disenchantment about the establishment that is far from being satisfied.

Even the high-brow French are getting their revolutionary DNA going as Emmanuel Macron, a former civil servant and investment banker, set up the La Republique En Marche! party in 2016 and beat the existing parties to win the presidency in 2017.

Macron looks like the spaghetti western actor Terrence Hill, a funny Italian who starred in movies "They Call Me Trinity" and its sequel, "Trinity is Still My Name." Macron is no comic but his being a new kid on the block persuaded the voters to choose him over other familiar parties' contenders.

Now, what would be our comic president and his dream Cabinet?

Topping the list of candidates is Yoo Jae-seok, Korea's most famous comedian who led "Infinite Challenge," one of the most successful comedy programs, for 14 years from 2005 to 2018. Yoo is called "Yoo-nunim," a portmanteau of his family name and parts of "lord" in Korean, reflecting his unrivaled popularity.

Nowadays, Yoo has graduated from slapstick or campy acting to get a few laughs. He is hosting reality and game shows.

Then, who would be Yoo's foreign minister?

There could be two kinds ― a language specialist like the current Foreign Minister Kang Kyung-hwa or a more subdued and stereotypical type. Comedienne Kang Yoo-mi, who played as part of a duo with Yoo Se-yoon in skits about push-pull love relationships in their early days, got her successful solo act for pretending to speak perfect Japanese. Of course, she didn't know Hiragana from Katakana.

If Japanese is a barrier, considering Koreans' prevalent anti-Japanese sentiment, then try Lee Soo-geun who got his fame for speaking perfect gibberish Chinese. For English, there are far too many.

Yoo's defense minister could be Park Myeong-soo, Yoo's colleague from the days of Infinite Challenge. Park is a comedian, singer, DJ, MC, songwriter, etc, but is often portrayed as the eternal No. 2 ― Antonio Salieri to Mozart ― except Park accepts Yoo as the savior of his career. Park's talent is keeping himself angry all the time and yelling at the slightest provocation. If barking orders is the criteria for becoming the second commander in chief, Park would fit the job description.

What about the speaker?

Let's name one after the tragicomedy in the National Assembly is over. The real-life drama is about the 74-year-old Moon Hee-sang, the speaker, daring to touch Rep. Lim Lee-ja on the cheeks. It didn't appear intended to sexually harass the conservative opposition Liberty Korea Party's female lawmaker because she blocked Moon in a melee. But irrespective of the circumstances, the LKP stringed Moon with the cardinal sin of #MeToo, sending him to hospital for treatment for mental shock.

For the chief justice of the Supreme Court, whomever Yoo should appoint as president, I think it can wait.

We Koreans take ourselves too seriously and tend to see issues from a life-or-death perspective. It's like "If it is not me that dies, it is you that should die."

This explains the mother of all conflicts and stalemates in Korea ― partisan wrangling, labor-management strife, spousal confrontation, school bullying, etc. And we feel like we are stuck and going in circles.

If a comic president can offer us some levity, it would be a better deal than what we have now ― no laughter and nothing but stress. Besides, the comic president may get more things done than what the current system we have offers. Want to try?

Oh Young-jin (foolsdie@gmail.com, foolsdie5@koreatimes.co.kr) is the digital managing editor of The Korea Times.