'Choi gate' furies, institutional failures

By Andrew Salmon

Korea is fuming. In fact, the country is hopping mad.

Streets seethe with protests. "Ajumma" tear out their hair and scream at TV screens. An incensed gentleman assaults prosecution headquarters with an excavator. A professor of law (law!) joins demonstrators demanding the president resign, although related legal proceedings have not begun.

Since winning democracy via mass protest in 1987, Korea has been periodically racked by emotive rallies making demands of (or demanding the resignation of), the chief executive: 1990; 2002; 2008; 2016. 2016's crowds are inflamed but (so far) well behaved. Their demands are coherent: President Park Geun-hye must go.

Why? The reasons are twofold.

The first is an (alleged) corruption/ influence-peddling scandal. But with similar scandals being dime-a-dozen in Korea, I am unconvinced that the current furies reflect reduced public tolerance for corruption.

The second is unprecedented and astounding: A political outsider has (allegedly) usurped power to become a (the?) key voice in national governance.

That outsider is Choi Soon-sil. She is not the canny spouse or sibling of the president; she is not a smooth professor with a Ph.D., or a businessman with an MBA; she is an unsophisticated, uneducated matron. This, I suspect, enrages educated Koreans (particularly the ultra-elite, who may have sought to advise Park themselves).

Equally damning is that Choi has background in an (alleged) cult, or wields (allegedly) shamanistic powers. This may compound her sins. Shamans represent the oldest extant strand of Korean culture, but are not considered "respectable." While myriad well-to-do, educated Koreans visit shamans and fortune tellers, they keep it quiet. So, although Korea guarantees freedom of religion, Choi's (alleged) religion invokes prejudice. This, I suspect, explains the erosion of Park's key support base, the Christian right.

Many Koreans are convinced Choi bewitched Park with such profound control – psychological, hypnotic or even spiritual - that she, not the president, crafted policies. And not just in the sporting and cultural spheres, but in inter-Korean relations and international diplomacy.

Amid this, Park's woeful judgment in choosing friends ("You can't choose family; you can choose friends") and her constipated communication function ("Madame, where were you during those missing hours of the Sewol sinking?") provoke additional ire.

But Park and Choi are individuals. More critically – as witness protest signage asks "Is this a nation?" - Korea's core institutions and sectors are massively tainted. Virtually all have lost public trust.

The Blue House is tainted. Its aides (allegedly) failed to convince their president, leaving Choi to (allegedly) become chief counsel. Historically, it has (certainly) failed to prevent corruption, cronyism, nepotism and influence peddling: Every president becomes mired in scandals. Their fates are grim. One was exiled, two were sentenced to death, three saw family members jailed, one committed suicide. The only president perceived as relatively clean was assassinated.

Surely, a Blue House oversight/audit mechanism is essential to prevent this depressingly endless power abuse? Surely, public patience for presidencies ends at four years - before "lame duck" syndrome creeps in? Reduce the term, please.

The National Assembly is almost equally tainted. Mid-crisis, it plays politics, preventing a new prime minister from assuming his position. Meanwhile, assembly demands for the devolution of presidential powers to the premier hold massive constitutional implications.

The judiciary is tainted. The prosecution falls under the Blue House, so lacks trust. (The late ex-President Roh Moo-hyun valiantly attempted, but failed, to delink the two institutions.) I suspect the Korean street will be satisfied with nothing less than the harshest sentences for Choi, and the disempowerment of Park. (Though, judicial proceedings against Park may have to wait until her presidency concludes.)

Big business is tainted. Chaebol whine that they donated to Choi's cronies because of (alleged) Blue House pressure. But corruption requires corrupters and corruptees. Did they ask their boards or shareholders about the millions they handed to the shysters shaking them down? I doubt it. So, they paint themselves as victims. Which they are – victims of poor governance, cowardice and lack of principle.

The winner is media, which is now the de-facto prosecution. But, amid competition to publish ever-more sensational allegations, is media reporting fair and accurate? Given the inaccuracies of past reporting, I am withholding judgment.

I cannot predict this crisis' ending. But given the consistent and endless power abuse among Korea's political and business elites, can similar crises be prevented, going forward?

Massive institutional overhauls are called for. Above all, Korea desperately needs rule of law: A respected, powerful, independent, impartial judiciary that bows to nobody - not chaebol royals, not the president. And although not a universal legal principle, "innocent until proven guilty" is worth adopting.

Meanwhile, the public's institutional distrust means the ongoing trial by media, and proceedings in the court of public opinion will continue along their fiery course, while the rumor mill spins ever more furiously.

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