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Despite relatively humble circumstances, he educated himself through reading widely. He was a fair artist and loved architecture. He was fond of small children and animals, and was both teetotal and a vegetarian.
He understood poverty and failure, for he experienced both. But when his country called, he proved himself a patriot, and in combat, was decorated for bravery. A brilliant orator, he understood the power of spectacle and ignited seismic emotions among his audiences.
Yet Adolf Hitler unleashed the deadliest war in human history; his regime implemented the industrialized slaughter of millions of men, women and children. It is troubling to know that, up close, many of those who met him were charmed.
In the company of females, he was noted for his chivalrous manners. As fate turned against Germany, many persons ― even hardcore military professionals ― could have their morale rejuvenated simply after meeting the charismatic Fuhrer.
And at the negotiating table, Hitler was highly capable. In 1938, he persuaded British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain that the two of them had reached a deal that guaranteed Europe (in Chamberlain's words) "Peace in our Time."
Hitler was not the only mass murderer with charm. Stalin was ready with flattery and the vodka bottle. Uganda's Idi Amin was noted for his humor and turn of phrase at press conferences.
What does this all have to do with 21st century Korea? Let us relate the events above to Kim Jong-un, for while Kim does not have the terrible stature of Hitler, he is arguably the most successfully totalitarian dictator today.
His persona ― unlike his hermit-like father ― is "Mr. Nice Guy." In public, he connects with star-struck citizens during appearances at factories, farms and bases. A friend of mine who has spent several days in Kim's company insists that he is a tremendous guy.
Has Kim's charm bewitched Moon Jae-in and Donald Trump? Before he became president, I asked Moon, at a press conference, if Kim was a man Moon could do business with. Moon's reply, essentially, was that he did not have to like the man to conduct diplomacy with him.
Yet, look at the footage of the two together! They beam, grasp each other's hands, embrace! This looks more like a bromance than a meeting of cold-headed statesmen. Trump ― who appears fascinated by strongmen ― seems equally besotted. Prior to their June summit, Trump made no secret of his interest in the young dictator; since the meeting, he has been treating Kim more like a respected chum than a strategic rival.
Contrast these interactions with TV footage showing Kim meeting Chinese President Xi Jinping.
Xi heads a nation like Kim's: A one-party state armed with powerful of machinery of repression and little respect for human rights. Yet the two do not get on like a house on fire. In fact, they appear guarded in each other's company, with far less bonhomie than seen between Kim and his democratic counterparties. Xi and Kim, I suspect, understand each other well.
Is there cause for concern? Yes. Moon and Trump have strong reasons to hope and/or believe that Kim will deliver what they seek, for the central loci of Moon's presidency is inter-Korean peace and stability, while Trump has made North Korea his leading foreign policy focus.
Herein lies the danger. Like Chamberlain's desperate hopes for "Peace in our Time," both men may be falling victim to wishful thinking.
If so, they had better ditch it, fast. Their legacies will rest heavily on their achievements or failures in North Korea diplomacy. While a calamity of the scale of World War II does not seem likely, Moon and Trump should consider how those who fell for the persuasive lies of dictators are remembered by posterity.
Chamberlain threw the United Kingdom's national existence into the balance when he realized he had been bamboozled: He declared war on Nazi Germany. That was a dangerously principled step, but he is remembered today as the man who tried ― and failed ― to appease evil.
Andrew Salmon (andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk) is a Seoul-based reporter and author.