The death of Korean politics

Courtesy of Chris Christian

By David A. Tizzard

"He said this about this. Then she said that about that. Oh my god, have you heard their latest comments? Outrageous! Are they going to apologize? There's a petition on the Blue House website!" Quickly, choose one of the three old lads in their colored ties. That's the only solution.

And thus the machine doth turn.

Current polls have the three main candidates for next year's presidential election as Lee Jae-myung, 56, Hong Joon-pyo, 67, and Yoon Seok-youl, 60. Essentially, three old dudes who all seem pretty out of touch with the country's youth and the values espoused in day-to-day life. Television news promotes coverage of this trio from morning to night, walking around, fist-bumping citizens, looking authoritative, sitting behind a desk, and striding stoically among a bustling group of photographers and journalists. All the things that politicians seem to do here.

Then the news has a 20-minute break while a whole host of adverts shout things at you: eat this, drink that, buy this, pay for these. And then back to the images of the "chosen" politicians. Because don't forget what the polls said: "78 percent of Koreans support this person."

That, however, generally ignores the fact that it was a loaded question and only surveyed 254 people out of a nation of 51.6 million. Gramsci, Chomsky, McLuhan, Adorno, and the lads from the Frankfurt School probably said something about all this: culture, hegemony, power and the controlling narrative. And so on and so on. We might be lucky to get a two-minute section about a fire in the east of the country and then emotional blackmail about how we should not meet other people or congregate in groups of more than four after 6pm with music exceeding 118.9 bpm on a treadmill. But despite this, we MUST still go to work. Cancel our birthday parties. And pay attention to those particular politicians (while conveniently ignoring that they are always shown in groups of anywhere up to 10 or 20 people).

So, with that being said, there's no real need for me to give them anymore publicity. With age I've come to realize that every election is portrayed as the most important. Every time it's part of a real existential crisis we are facing, nothing like we've seen before. This time it matters. Therefore, even though we don't really like or align with any of the main contenders, we should definitely vote so as to make sure "the other one" doesn't win. The "other one" differs according to what paper you read, but they're always there: the threat to society, security, economy, women's rights, men's rights, animal rights, the environment, culture, socialism, communism, immigration. Nuclear war. Anger. Danger. Vote.

I used to think the politicians came from a different cloth to us normal citizens. I believed they were somehow a class apart. Raised differently. Educated differently. Bred differently. There was a reason they were the rulers: they had a special insight that transcended what we could see. Maybe there was some truth to that once upon a time? But just like we outgrow Santa and the tooth fairy, my personal experiences with diplomats, politicians, and government officials have shown me that they're actually no different from you or me. Except, perhaps, for one thing. It's very rare to find one that will speak to you honestly. As a person.

Everything is a soundbite. Or a vague advocating of some broad principle. The comments guarded so as to appear as reasonable as they can to the widest possible audience without truly alienating anyone. Saying nothing, meaning nothing, but being broadcast to the nation. And, should there be a whiff of criticism on social media, they'll often quite happily come out next time and say something different.

Of course the politicians have their own values, ideas and beliefs. They have people they don't like. They have people they want to help. They have resentment, jealousy, whim and caprice. But everything is managed to avoid this being revealed. In that sense, K-pop stars have a lot in common: Choreography, make-up artists, curated Twitter posts, and other people writing what comes out of their mouths.

And that's often what makes the hypocrisy all the more galling. The elected representatives, living off tax payers, are often found having lied about qualifications, cheated to get their kids through school, skipped military service, had a couple of houses on the go, been sexually abusing their staff … and the list goes on.

"You're not taking politics seriously enough," some will say to me. But perhaps I'm taking it too seriously? I love Korea. I love the people. I love the fact that despite everything that has happened to it over the last 100 years, it now stands as a true beacon of democracy and freedom in Northeast Asia. I love that it has given me a home. A family. A sense of purpose.

But the Korean people I spend my time with are nothing like the politicians we are told to pay money to and vote for. I guess I just wish there was more genuine choice. And that there was more reality in politics. You'll probably say I'm a dreamer; I wonder if I'm the only one.

Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. The views expressed in the article are the author's own and do not reflect the editorial direction of The Korea Times.