This was to have been the season when South Koreans traded in their high-mileage politicians for new models with more pizzazz. Yet less than a month before the vote, the race’s two fresh faces are playing catch-up to an anti-communist ideologue from their parents’ generation. Once written off as a political has-been, Lee, 67, is staging a comeback that owes much to the North Korean regime he’s so fond of bashing. Pyongyang’s refusal to embrace Seoul’s “sunshine policy” of peace and reconciliation, combined with its recent admission that it has a secret nuclear program, has undermined Lee’s two rivals, both fifty something progressives who advocate closer North-South relations. “What the North Koreans have done has had a chilling effect on perceptions here,” says a Western diplomat in Seoul, adding that security jitters have enhanced “the comfort level” voters feel for Lee.
Lee narrowly lost his first bid for the Blue House to Kim Dae Jung five years ago. Since then he has steadfastly pounded away at Kim’s policy of engagement with North Korea, dubbing it a “one-sided love affair” and accusing the president of spending millions in public funds to secure himself a Nobel Peace Prize in 2000. Despite all the humanitarian aid and promises of peaceful coexistence, Pyongyang has derailed numerous exchanges, refused to shrink its Army and forged ahead with costly munitions programs. All of which leaves Lee, in the eyes of many Koreans, looking like the wise and judicious leader he says he’d be.
Much as George W. Bush did in recent U.S. elections, Lee has, in effect, managed to turn this into a security election rather than an economic one. The fact that the Korean economy is outpacing most others in Asia–humming along at impressive 6 percent growth–would seem to work against an old-school opposition figure. But the other two candidates seem to be uniquely unqualified to speak to the issue. Kim’s political heir, ruling Millennium Democratic Party candidate Roh Moo Hyun, may be reluctant to discuss economic themes partly because his core constituency–radical leftists and militant trade unions–doesn’t favor more open economic policies. And, when he does take up economic policy, it doesn’t sound credible: as a former lawyer and labor activist, he’s never led any major economic institutions.
The third candidate, billionaire Chung Mong Joon, has the opposite problem: he’s too plugged in to big business. The fifth son of the late founder of Hyundai, the charismatic Chung became a political upstart after successfully staging the World Cup in South Korea this past summer. But he’s also loath to dwell on economic issues too long, lest he highlight his chaebol ties and raise questions about potential conflicts of interest. The fact that Hyundai has invested hundreds of millions in North Korea and would stand to benefit from greater economic integration has already raised the eyebrows of some.
Last week Roh and Chung moved to unite their parties in a desperate bid to deny Lee the Blue House. On Friday they staged a two-hour television debate that aimed to determine which of them would best represent the coalition. The two camps are expected to form an alliance this week and, based on polling conducted over the weekend, endorse either Roh or Chung, with the loser becoming campaign manager. Still, according to recent opinion polls, either candidate will have a tough time defeating Lee in a two-way race–and it may not be any easier after they finish criticizing each other. “Under the present circumstances, Lee is at a great advantage,” says Suk Ryul Yu, an expert on North Korea. “[Roh and Chung] can’t easily unite.”
The policy implications are enormous. Should Lee triumph, say experts, Pyongyang could turn up its propaganda megaphones against a leader they’ve already written off as “reactionary” and “anti-unification.” For his part, Lee has pledged policy continuity. In an interview with NEWSWEEK early this year he articulated a desire to make North Korea “a peaceful partner for coexistence,” yet he also warned that there would be “no free lunch” in the form of unconditional aid. In the end, the election is boiling down to a referendum on engagement. “You could not find two more different visions of North Korea,” says Yonsei University political scientist Lee Chung Min. At least that gives South Koreans a clear choice to make.
