Presidential Pardons and Economic Nostalgia in South Korea

It appears some of South Korea’s highest profile businessmen currently serving time may be granted presidential pardons August 15 – an appropriate day for liberating people. August 15 is a national holiday in South Korea: Liberation Day. While some may be quick to condemn the pardoning of the business elite as unfair, undemocratic, and unjust (it is all of these things), some perspective on both the nature of capitalist societies and South Korean history will show that a seemingly imprudent act is more complicated than it seems.

Economic growth is what drives production, expansion, and forward “progress” in capitalist societies (which is basically everywhere). It is generally accepted that “a growth rate of three percent is the minimum acceptable level at which a ‘healthy’ capitalism can operate,” writes geographical and political economist David Harvey in a paper presented at the American Sociological Association Meetings in Atlanta (2010). “Anything less than three percent is problematic […].”

But not everyone prioritizes growth in the same way. A developing nation, for instance, might see 7 percent growth (or higher) as a sought-after norm, whereas a more advanced nation might celebrate a year with 3.5 percent growth. The perception of growth and how a society prioritizes it manifests itself in other realms.

In South Korea, a poster child for the postwar rags-to-riches developmental story, growth legitimated, in the eyes of some, the usurpation of democratic rights (such as free and fair elections). The developmental dictator Park Chung-hee and his ruling Democratic Republican Party (DRP) maintained a fragile legitimacy by growing the economy at breakneck pace and drastically improving the lives of the people. Korea under Park is not an uncommon story. Authoritarian regimes in Taiwan, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, and elsewhere have taken a similar path.

Developmental states create memories, both positive and (very) negative, that unavoidably affect the political and social landscape of the post-developmental period. The battle over how South Koreans ought to “remember” Park Chung-hee is just one example of a residual developmental effect. The debate over whether electing Park’s daughter, Park Geun-hye, as president means democratic recession had begun is another. Memory politics is a dynamic and highly contentious thing in South Korea, as is it elsewhere.

Remembering often means yearning, and what is often remembered in post-developmental South Korea is a time of promise: that is, a time of economic growth. Because “progress” is so often seen as dependent on growth, a decline in the latter means disaster. No growth, no progress. And what’s the opposite of progress? To many: regression. Whether a world without growth is possible is an interesting and increasingly relevant question, but one that has not yet become a pressing, mainstream consideration (to Harvey’s chagrin). For now, it is a matter of hitting the three percent growth target, and for some political elites that means holding key economic players in a category of their own.

Recently, Korea Chamber of Commerce and Industry head Park Yong-maan, called on President Park Geun-hye to pardon two prominent chaebol leaders on the day designated for such things: August 15. Chaebol are large conglomerates, products of the developmental years; they were leaders of South Korea’s economic growth during Korea’s “taking off” and remain leaders today. The two men are SK Chairperson Chey Tae-won and Hanwha Chairperson Kim Seung-youn. The former is imprisoned for embezzlement, the latter for illegal financial transactions between subsidiary groups. The reasons behind Park’s recommendation are illuminating.

In a July 24 Joongang Ilbo article, “Chamber head repeats pleas for pardon of 2 chaebol leaders,” Park Yong-maan is quoted as saying, “Businessmen should be among the candidates for a special pardon for the sake of national harmony and national interest.” That interest is, of course, economic growth. The president may agree. The article quotes Park as saying she would consider issuing pardons “for the country’s development and national unity.”

The move wouldn’t be unprecedented. In 2008, Lee Myung-bak, in the name of “economic revitalization,” pardoned 74 businesspersons (including Chey Tae-won!). A simple search will turn up numerous cases of court and presidential pardons for business leaders, all in the name of national interest – economic growth.

While political elites may see high profile economic actors, especially chaebol leaders, as existing in a world different from that inhabited by ordinary folk, those same ordinary folk do not agree – not most of them, anyway.

In a Gallup Korea public opinion survey conducted between July 21 and July 23, respondents were asked whether they support or oppose the special pardon of economic players for the sake of the economy. Out of 1,003 responses, 35 percent said they support it, 54 percent said they oppose it, and 11 percent didn’t know or refused to answer. Tellingly, the younger (20s and 30s) age cohort showed the strongest opposition (69 and 80 percent, respectively), whereas 55 percent of those in their 50s and 59 percent of those 60 and older supported such pardons. With 67 percent opposing and 26 supporting, the distribution for the 40s age cohort is less lopsided than the others, but still overwhelmingly against the pardons.

The cumulative data for the Gallup opinion paints an unambiguous picture: most people oppose pardons for economic elites. However, the breakdown by age cohort reveals a more complicated dynamic at work. While it is not possible to draw any definitive conclusions by reading the cohort data, we can infer from what we know about the powerful effects of developmental experiences that those who came of age during the time of explosive economic growth, that is, the developmental period, might be longing for a time now past. They may be feeling a sense of nostalgia – a hunger for something lost.

With subpar growth expected in the short-term, those who experienced the promise (and peril) of rapid growth may be grasping for some sense of familiarity, even if it means granting some people extraordinary status. So long as growth remains South Korea’s – and the world’s – main focus, such thinking will likely persist.