Immigration and Itaewon

By Andrew Salmon

I read recently in this newspaper that the minimum investment amount required by overseas entrepreneurs seeking Korean visas has been raised. (Again.) Another story noted that foreigners marrying Koreans in the future will have to pass a Korean language test before gaining a spousal visa.

It was not clear from either story what was behind these changes being instituted by the Ministry of Justice. But what does seem clear, assuming the reports are accurate, is that Seoul is raising barriers to hopeful migrants.

Fair enough. Immigration is a sensitive issue in many countries, and every capital has the sovereign right to set its immigration policies.

Moreover, in recent years ― call it the "Samsung Effect," call it the "Psy Effect" ― South Korea's global image has improved tremendously: a once-overlooked country is now hip and happening. Perhaps Korea's burnished brand is propelling a tsunami of foreigners Seoul-ward, all eager to try their luck.

But still. I wonder if these policies are appropriate.

A strong nationalist undercurrent runs through Korea's body politic, and there is an occasional tendency to demonize outsiders. Many of the emotive socio-political issues of recent years are foreign-related: The 2002 anti-American demonstrations; the 2008 US beef protests; the attacks on foreign capital, most notably (but not limited to) Lone Star; and of course, ongoing fury towards Japan over territorial and historical issues.

And that is just the macro level. On the micro level, stories about "crime by foreigners," "crimes by U.S. soldiers" or "'crimes by English teachers" are common fodder in Korea's vernacular and English language media. While such reports faithfully reproduce the data issued by the responsible government agency or NGO, what is usually missing is context. The obvious question is: Are x number of foreigners more or less likely to commit crimes than x number of Koreans?

There are even "civic" groups that exist expressly to track and publicize crimes by U.S. troops and foreign English teachers. I would not suggest that these organizations are racist, but what exactly are their motives?

Let's put this into context for Korean readers.

How might you feel if an organization appeared in, say, the United States with the self-proclaimed mission of researching and publicizing crimes committed in the USA by Koreans? If that makes you uncomfortable ― well, I agree with you.

But let us return to immigration. Could those civil servants formulating policies be influenced by these kinds of groups and stories? Particularly given that some Korean politicians and bureaucracies are highly responsive to ― or even led by ― "the law of public sentiment?"

Whatever the reason, I suggest that, as a counterpoint to some of the negativity surrounding Korea's foreign communities, formulators of immigration policy should consider taking a casual stroll through Itaewon on a weekend afternoon.

Once viewed as dodgy and dangerous, Itaewon has been reborn as one of Seoul's hippest districts. Its vibe is unapologetically multicultural.

Note how many foreign-centric businesses exist. True, many of these enterprises are owned by Korean spouses or business partners on paper, but there is foreign expertise behind the scenes ― be it conceptualizing, consulting, cooking or managing.

Or take the hottest issue on Korea's catering scene now: The trend for fine beer. A handful of foreign bar owners, brewers and importers are ― along with like-minded Korean allies – leading this movement.

And Itaewon is just the tip of the iceberg.

With affluent Koreans spurning low-paid jobs in the industrial sector, migrant workers from Central, South and Southeast Asia are critical to manufacturing SMEs. In the service sector, if the flow of Korean-Chinese workers dried up, Korea's restaurant sector would implode.

Foreign expertise, ideas and manpower has the potential to help enrich Korea, not degrade it. And as a general rule, immigrant communities in democracies are more dynamic than local communities. (Korean-Americans being a fine example.)

A decade ago, when South Korea was ill-advisedly promoting itself as "The Hub of Asia" a high-profile expatriate here suggested to Korean policymakers: "If that is what you think you want, go to Singapore and Hong Kong and take a long, hard look around."

These Asian entrepots are multicultural, multiracial and welcoming of - rather than suspicious toward ― foreigners and foreign entrepreneurs. I imagine that 10 years previously, many Koreans would not have been comfortable with Hong Kong or Singapore as commercial or social benchmarks for immigration policies. (Perhaps explaining why the "Hub of Asia" concept quietly died.)

But walking through Itaewon nowadays, and seeing the number of smart, prosperous and globalized young Koreans enjoying the district's cosmopolitan charms, I wonder if attitudes are changing.

If they are, I am hopeful that raising immigration barriers and treating foreigners with distrust of suspicion will not be in synch with popular sentiment for much longer.

Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.