Wednesday, March 9, 2005
By DANIEL SNEIDER
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
SEOUL, South Korea -- Im Jong Seok is considered presidential timber in South Korea. The two-term member of the National Assembly, the country's parliament, is articulate, young -- 39 years old -- with movie-star good looks and an easy charm.
Im is also not far removed from his days as a radical student leader during the turbulent 1980s struggle against military rule. He once led a small group of students over the wall of the U.S. ambassador's residence. He spent almost four years in prison for promoting contacts with communist North Korea.
After his release in 1993, Im became a civic leader, building coalitions of youth organizations. That movement organized candlelight marches against the U.S. military presence that led to the stunning victory of former human rights lawyer Roh Tae Woo in the presidential election two years ago.
Im is the face of South Korean democracy that Americans rarely see, don't understand and must come to know. The Bush administration claims to embrace democratic change across the globe. But they disdain a South Korean government that engages the communist North and is not content to be a compliant U.S. client state. Yet this, no less than protests in Beirut or elections in Baghdad, is the fruit of liberty.
Im represents what Koreans call the 3-8-6 generation -- people in their 30s (or early 40s), who went to college during the 1980s, and were born in the 1960s. Koreans before them were born in the era of Japanese colonial rule, survived the Korean War and suffered years of poverty.
Affluence
The 3-8-6 generation grew up in relative affluence. As students, they fought pitched battles in the streets of Seoul with the police -- scenes I witnessed as a reporter. They saw the United States as an ally of dictatorship. And they opened the door to democracy when they forced the military to yield power in 1987.
With the Roh victory, the former protesters came to power, to the evident dismay of the Bush administration. There was much wringing of hands about the triumph of anti-Americanism. But the 3-8-6 generation is much more about Korean national pride.
The newly formed Uri party, backed by Roh, won control of the National Assembly last year, bringing in about 20 3-8-6-ers. They are learning how to rule, including making difficult decisions to shore up the alliance with the United States, even when it conflicts with their electoral base.
When Roh decided to send 3,700 troops to Iraq in December 2003, Im was against it. But he concluded it was more important to back the government to avoid political chaos.
When a South Korean was taken hostage and murdered by Iraqi insurgents last June, Im was agonized.
"That night I was not able to sleep, worrying about what we should do next," he said. He issued a statement urging his country to stay the course in Iraq. "My friends in civil society were ready to strangle me. But I felt a sense of responsibility."
Assemblyman Chae Suchon, who taught economics at Rice University for 20 years before returning to run in the last election, sees the Uri party shifting toward managing the economy. Pragmatism is the new watchword; Tony Blair's Labor Party is a favored model.
But the Uri party still depends on its ability to speak for those in South Korea who are not burdened by the Cold War past. "We can connect to the younger generation," Chae told me. "It means our party will win the next election."
Older generation
But when American officials and policy-makers come to Seoul, they seek out the familiar faces of the older generation. Ironically, the conservative Grand National Party, which lost control of the Assembly, is desperately trying to appeal to the young.
"Americans talk to the people they are comfortable with," says Assemblyman Chung Eui Young, who heads the Uri party's foreign relations committee.
Donald Gregg, head of the Korea Society and the U.S. ambassador at the time when Im climbed over his wall, agrees. The society hosted a Uri party delegation earlier this year, where he met Im for the first time.
"I was impressed," Gregg recounted to me. "It would be a great symbol of Korea's rapid evolution if he became truly prominent."
Whether Washington shares that view is doubtful. But Koreans are now in control of their own destiny, as it should be.
X Daniel Sneider is foreign affairs columnist for the San Jose Mercury News. Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.