Was Korea’s success accidental or inevitable?

 

Cho Yoon-je
 
The author is a special appointment professor at the Graduate School of Economics at Yonsei University.
 
 
 
In the presidential election of October 1963, opposition candidate Yoon Bo-sun won 4,546,614 votes, or 45.1 percent, narrowly losing to Park Chung Hee, who had decided to end military rule and run for civilian leadership. Park received 4,702,640 votes, or 46.65 percent — a margin of about 166,000 votes.
 

United Nations troops fire from a barricade in Seoul in September 1950. The building on the left carries portraits of Soviet leader Josef Stalin, left, and North Korean leader Kim Il Sung. [AP/YONHAP]

 
At the time, senior Christian leaders urged Byun Young-tae, a former foreign minister, to withdraw from the race. Believing in his popularity, Byun refused and completed the campaign, ultimately receiving about 224,000 votes. Most of those votes had been expected to go to the opposition camp. History does not allow for hypotheticals, but one cannot help but wonder how South Korea’s history might have unfolded had Byun withdrawn.
 
Park was 46 years old at the time, nearly 20 years younger than Yoon. Yoon came from a traditional yangban family, the ruling class of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), while Park was born into a poor farming household in Gumi, North Gyeongsang. 
 
What happened after that election is well-known.
 

Members of the National Council of YMCAs of Korea launch a nationwide campaign to collect foreign currency in Myeongdong, Seoul, on Nov. 24, 1997. The YMCA urged citizens to participate and proposed practical measures such as opening foreign currency accounts, collecting foreign coins and refraining from overseas travel. [JOONGANG ILBO]

 
One may ask similar questions about our more recent history. What if Lee In-je had withdrawn from the 1997 presidential race? What if Sim Sang-jung had stepped aside in the 2022 election? History is often shaped by such small decisions.
 
Water could have flowed in several possible directions, but it somehow followed a certain path to form the streams and rivers that eventually defined the terrain that we know today. Looking back, we may call this sort of movement destiny, or perhaps the inevitable result of the collective choices of a people shaped by their era and circumstances.
 
Those currents of decisions accumulate and carry us to the present. Even today, events are unfolding that future historians may revisit with similar questions of “what if.”
 
Over the past 70 years, South Korea has achieved a form of compressed growth rarely seen in world history. The transformation has extended beyond the economy to include the political and cultural. Was this remarkable success the product of an accident or necessity?
 
If the latter, one must point to the resilience and capability of the South Korean people.
 
In 1953, the French newspaper Le Monde described South Korea as “not a country but a vast refugee camp sustained by aid.” In 1954, TIME Magazine called it “the most completely destroyed country in the history of mankind.” But our nation rose from the ashes of war.
 

Related Article

• DP, PPP agree to establish new state-run entity specialized in implementing U.S. investment pledge

• PPP stages rally to protest DP-led passage of judicial reform bills

• PPP, DP trade barbs and spar over subcommittees, but make no progress on U.S. investment bill

• DP takes up 'dream' mantle as PPP slides into infighting nightmare

 
In 1979, when the second oil shock struck and President Park Chung Hee was assassinated, political turmoil and economic crisis shook the country. Foreign correspondents predicted that South Korea would enter a period of stagnation. Instead, the government stabilized the economy through measures such as freezing the national budget and wages, and the country eventually successfully hosted the 1988 Seoul Olympics.
 
When the 1997 Asian financial crisis erupted, the International Herald Tribune wrote that South Korea had been reduced to an international beggar. But through a nationwide campaign to donate personal gold and sweeping corporate and financial restructuring, the country recovered and moved forward again.
 
Still, observing the divisions and political debates of today, one cannot avoid asking whether the past seven decades of success were inevitable or accidental.
 
The conservative opposition appears to have lost its sense of direction. The progressive ruling party often seems insufficiently reflective, given the power it holds. What appears generally lacking in South Korea’s system of governance is a long-term perspective and a culture of rational deliberation.
 
Unlike many Western countries, the divide between South Korea’s progressive and conservative camps has not primarily emerged from differences in values or policy goals. Instead, it has been shaped largely by differing views of the country’s past political systems and its relationship with North Korea. But the political language used by both sides frequently escalates into existential confrontation.
 

Protesters rally in front of the National Assembly in Yeouido, western Seoul, on Dec. 7, 2024. [YONHAP]

 
South Korea now stands at another historical crossroads. The world has entered an era of profound transformation. The international order is shifting, and advances in artificial intelligence and digital technology are rapidly reshaping human civilization.
 
In such a time of uncertainty, the choices made today will influence South Korea's future position and destiny. Countries that move even slightly ahead during periods of transition can establish advantages that last generations. Those that fall behind may find that opportunities for recovery come only after another chapter of history starts.
 
Should we again trust in historical inevitability? If so, what form will South Korea's destiny take in the remaining decades of the 21st century?
 
It may depend on reconstructing the country’s system of governance, strengthening the collective knowledge of its citizens and cultivating a new civic culture. Such changes may begin with something as simple as refining the language used in public discourse and political debate.
 
Harsh rhetoric clouds judgment and weakens social cohesion. Navigating an age of upheaval requires not only criticizing political leaders but also fostering a culture of tolerance, restraint, inclusion and mutual respect among citizens.
 
History offers no examples of nations flourishing through exclusion.


This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.