Politics and implementing law
John Bartram The Korea Herald Asia News Network Seoul
With only 14 days to go to polling day, and just four before the start of the official election campaign period, many Koreans may be wondering just how they will be able to express their political views freely and peacefully in public before they vote.
Acting President Goh Kun has ruled that the candlelight rallies attended by hundreds of thousands of citizens in downtown Seoul, and throughout the country since President Roh Moo-hyun's impeachment on March 12, are illegal and that they will be banned during the two weeks of official campaigning. The last rallies took place again peacefully on Saturday.
The decision, based on the Korean law on assembly that prohibits outdoor demonstrations after sunset, was taken, of course, to uphold the rule of law. This makes perfect sense, as this tenet underpins the democratic system.
Laws should be obeyed by all citizens and, given the often violent path Korea has taken to democracy, fears that nighttime demonstrations might turn violent are understandable.
Nevertheless, laws are, and sometimes should be, selectively applied by politicians. No mass police action was taken, for instance, to stop the (illegal) anti-impeachment protests that were held in the days leading up to the start of the official campaign period. It was noticeable that, even after the police had declared them illegal, the politicians -- seeing the demonstrations were non-violent -- wisely decided not to intervene or to apply the letter of the law.
In other words, it sometimes makes political sense to consider whether you actually need to apply the law.
It is also striking that few people seem to have questioned publicly whether such a law might now be outdated. Korea still has a strong conservative political undercurrent, but the nation is also adjusting to a seismic generational shift that is moving the political majority in a more radical direction, spurred by young people who place greater emphasis on the free expression of their opinions and who generally follow more liberal views. It was the radical young, after all, who swept Roh into power only 15 months ago.
The government obviously wishes to take all possible measures to ensure free and fair elections. But why ban political demonstrations during election period?
This leaves us in the strange situation, if I understand it correctly, where the public cannot hold peaceful political assemblies in public places in the evening -- the only work-free time -- in order to express its political opinions, and this during a formal campaign period for political general elections. Absurd might perhaps be a better word to describe the situation.
To try to understand the reasoning, I turned to an article in last week (Cultural perspectives illuminate Korean politics, March 23) where Seo Young-hi wrote that Koreans have a high wish to avoid uncertainty and that change here, on an internal and in- depth level, can take a very long time.
And, of course, political change in Korea has come very quickly, so quickly in fact that the nation is clearly still struggling to adapt and learn how to play the democratic game to everyone's satisfaction.
Something else strikes an outside observer, just days before the poll. Korean political parties are, of course, personality parties, not founded on policy platforms or deep-seated ideological beliefs. That is not to say they do not have beliefs or policies, but just that they exist because of the iron will of one man, or of a very small number of tough men.
Following the impeachment, this election was always going to be a one-issue race, and it is now looking more likely that the consummate gambler in the Blue House will win the prize. Perhaps, he is not so much of a hick from the country (at least in political terms), as his better-educated conservative opponents claim? The proof lies in the evident and risible state of panic that now exists in the Grand National Party and in the Millennium Democratic Party.
Panic was first evident in the GNP when it employed the traditional tactic of "shooting the messenger" by attacking the main broadcasters for what it thought was biased coverage of the impeachment. Whatever the merit of the case, the use of this ploy by politicians is always a clear sign of terminal decline. As is the internecine warfare now underway in the MDP, which faces the threat of extinction because of its conspiracy in the impeachment process.
The men in dark suits in both parties are clearly desperate, as they are now finally turning to women to sort out the mess they have created -- in the roles of party leader, spokeswomen and in increasing numbers as parliamentary candidates.
But, for the voters, all this is still a very sorry tale as none of the three main parties has yet presented a policy platform for them to study, and policy, of course, should be the base on which they decide how to cast their ballot. I have seen no signs in recent days of the parties offering any solutions on matters such as national security, worsening unemployment, jobless growth and spiraling energy costs, to name but a few of the issues that normally decide national elections.
The shambles in the National Assembly during the last few months has also meant that urgent electoral reform was not enacted and that, only very late in the day, did the voters learn that they will have 299, not 273, members to choose this time.
Perhaps that was done deliberately in order to hide from them, as long as possible, the fact that they will have to put up with even more of these incompetents performing in the Yoido circus during the next four years?