Sunshine fades for Seoul's under-fire leader

TO MUCH OF the world, Kim Dae-jung is something of a hero. Winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, survivor of assassination attempts by the country's former military dictators and a renowned champion of democracy, the elderly president of South Korea has earned widespread praise, in particular, for his political wooing of militant North Korea - the 'sunshine policy' which has sharply reduced tensions throughout Northeast Asia.

So foreigners find it somewhat puzzling that Mr Kim is much less honoured at home. Though many South Koreans pay him at least grudging respect for surviving years of harsh persecution and for his subsequent deeds, some also consider him liked but not well liked. If presidential elections were held today, the candidate of his ruling Millennium Democratic Party (MDP) would almost certainly lose, no matter who ran against him.

These restive voters accuse Mr Kim of many political sins. Some contend he bought his peace prize by giving North Korea sweeping concessions in return for too little. Others blame him for economic-reform policies they say either helped cause a slump or failed to prevent one. Many complain this outspoken advocate of democracy has evolved into a dogmatic Confucian who won't take advice - a professed leader of the people whose style is more imperial than populist and who, among other things, persecutes his press critics. A failed health-care reform also hurt. Meanwhile, other Koreans complain he has promoted too many officials from his home region into high office - and tolerated their frequent blatant corruption.

All these claims can be debated, if not always debunked. But it is clear that Mr Kim, after a glorious beginning, has lost popular support, and his political legacy now seems a little tattered. How it will look in the end is impossible to know; a great deal can change before presidential elections in December of next year. (By law, Mr Kim cannot run again.) But on present form, it appears that the next president will come from the opposition Grand National Party, even though the leading GNP candidate is considered an uninspiring caretaker rather than a charismatic leader with fresh ideas.

If nothing else, Mr Kim's political decline proves, according to Scott Snyder, representative for the Asia Foundation in Seoul, that 'Korean politics is complex and can be a nasty game.'

A leading cause of his political trouble is Mr Kim's devotion to the policy that won him so much overseas acclaim - seeking accommodation with North Korea. Many believe he has focused intently on Pyongyang to the detriment of almost everything else, with too little to show for it. The claim may be excessive but it is understandable.

From the time he assumed office in early 1998, Mr Kim made changing things on the Korean peninsula his first priority. And change was needed. Since 1953, a million North Korean troops have been poised near the Demilitarised Zone, which divides the two states, ready on short notice to surge south. Thus, South Korea keeps about 600,000 personnel on the defence, backed by 37,000 Americans. The threat of war was always present, and the bills for all this force were, and are, more than either Korea can really afford. This is especially true for North Korea, where bizarre policies have brought about economic disaster and starvation.

Mr Kim had two choices, says an official of the Ministry of Unification, which manages North-South relations. He could induce change by increasing pressure on the North, or dangle 'carrots' before Pyongyang's leaders. The first had failed before, so he chose the latter. Seoul - with other donors - has sent the North free food, fuel and promises of extensive aid. Mr Kim has helped pull Pyongyang's surprisingly self-confident maximum leader, Kim Jong-il, into the world. Again and again, Kim Dae-jung has reassured suspicious Northerners that detente doesn't threaten their regime but could prolong it. (Seoul concluded years ago that it could not afford the costs of unification if the North collapsed.)

All this has had one grand payoff: the chances of another Korean war are about the lowest ever. This has a soothing effect on South Korean society and some day might do the same for the North. There are also more tangible benefits. Decreased political risk means cheaper foreign loans, says former finance minister Kang Bong-kyun.

Yet that is not enough for many Koreans. All those Northern troops remain near the border, and their weapons are better. Seoul wants to discuss military matters but Pyongyang rejects the basic idea. And although Kim Dae-jung made a ground-breaking trip north last year, Pyongyang's Mr Kim so far has not scheduled his promised return visit. Meanwhile, one Seoul banker says 'there are no success stories' for those Southern businessmen who, partly for patriotic reasons, invested in the North. There is a feeling the sunshine policy produces substance for the North, but only symbols for the South.

The GNP exploits this sentiment as best it can. Its leader and likely candidate, Lee Hoi-chang, promises greater 'reciprocity' if his party wins control of the Blue House, the executive offices. So far, however, he has not come up with any specific ideas and he, too, recently supported free shipments of surplus rice to the North, though partly to pacify farmers from his home region. Most analysts believe benefits must be front-loaded to Pyongyang's advantage or nothing can be gained. They doubt this would change under a President Lee.

Others complain the president has lost interest in other topics such as economic reform. A former minister, for example, says Mr Kim got about halfway through his promised reform agenda last year, then declared victory and dropped the subject. The former minister thinks much more is needed, including labour reform and improved corporate governance. But the Blue House no longer pushes hard for progress. Former finance minister Mr Kang was reform's leading advocate, and his departure, it is said, set back the cause enormously.

Mr Kim's ruling style aggravates his problems. Raised in a small town on a remote island, he had a traditional upbringing imbued with Confucian values. With age - he is nearly 80 - the President has, to put it politely, grown disinterested in contrary views. The experts say his staff has been purged of those who dare to disagree, though on a personal level he remains as courteous as ever. Last year, even members of his own party pleaded for a more democratic style. But Mr Kim responded with what he calls 'strong government'.

This attitude partly explains his difficult meeting in March with United States President George W. Bush. Mr Kim went to the White House as an elder statesman determined to enlighten a young man who clearly didn't know much about foreign affairs, especially about North Korea. By all accounts, his lengthy lecture did not go down well, and it frayed US relations for a time. Many Blue House officials knew what Mr Kim planned and they feared the worst, but none dared to warn him off. Says one man who heard him practice his spiel: 'It was a train wreck waiting to happen.'

That attitude helps explain the Government's harsh prosecution of leading editors and publishers for tax fraud. Many Koreans assume they may well have cheated on their taxes - it has been a national pastime for decades. But the accused also head the newspapers most critical of the President, and many Koreans doubt if that is simple coincidence. This apparent gulf between democratic principles and practice has tarnished the Kim image.

Yet all is far from lost. DJ, as he is often called, may be a lame duck but he will be president for more than another year. The opposition GNP has no commanding personality nor any clear alternative policies. An economic rebound would diffuse much criticism. And anything remains possible on the murky reconciliation front, so Mr Kim could have success on crucial security issues. If the opposition splits again, his chosen successor might win a three-way race as happened in 1997, even though the MDP candidates are lacklustre.

Thus, completing the legacy he hopes to leave - of the man who brought peace to the peninsula - remains possible. Mr Kim could depart office with the neighbourhood more tranquil than he found it, and have the Nobel prize as proof. But right now, the prospects for cross-border relations remain uncertain and Mr Kim has problems on most domestic fronts. He still enjoys much respect, but not nearly as much as he thinks he deserves.

This is the first of a three-part series from South Korea. Coming next: North Korea's future

Robert Keatley is the South China Morning Post's Editorial Adviser ([email protected])