The Marmot’s Hole

Finally, my Lee Myung-bak First 100 Days post.

Well, what’s there really to say? It took me something like two hours to get home from Bukchon to Itaewon because the streets look like the Summer of ‘87, people are calling for the man’s ouster, his entire cabinet may well resign soon, he might have just killed the FTA with the United States (albeit very much against his will), his approval rating hovers around 20%, and “747″ (7% growth, a US$40,000 GDP per capita and the world’s seventh largest economy) seems like a pipe dream.

This is all the more amazing given how less than a year ago he was elected to office with the largest landslide victory in Korean electoral history*, followed by a convincing (if not total) victory by his Grand National Party in the April general election.

*OK, technically not true — Syngman Rhee won with far more impressive margins in four presidential, ahem, elections in 1948, 1952, 1956 and 1960.

What the Hell Happened?

Well, it’s not all his fault. He’s had to readjust his ambitious economic targets due to the crappy world economy. The protests, IMHO, were sparked by dubious claims and have been manipulated by groups and politicians with their own agendas. At any rate, 100 days is hardly giving the guy a chance — even Roh Moo-hyun had more time in office before he was impeached.

That being said, Lee has been his own worst enemy by, well, being Lee. He ran for office with a reputation as a man who got shit done by being a bulldozer. As Seoul mayor, he ran roughshod over opposition, but got results (or so his PR apparatus said). His major initiatives, such as the restoration of the Cheonggyecheon Stream and the reform of the Seoul public transportation system, all met with substantial initial opposition. Fortunately enough for him, those intiatives turned out well enough that the manner in which they were accomplished was forgetten.

Countries, however, are a much different beast than cities, and even those of us who liked him — and I do like him — wondered how well he’d do unless he changed his administrative style as president.

Well, he didn’t, and now we know.

The Man Doesn’t Talk with Anyone

One major criticism leveled at him is that he doesn’t listen. I’m not sure if that’s true, per se. He might very well listen, but I think he believes — due to his experiences as Hyundai CEO and Seoul mayor — that if given the chance to implement his policies, initial public criticism will turn into acceptance. The official 2MB mythology is that he’s a man who has spent his life ignoring the naysayers and conventional wisdom to do the impossible. Sure, a lot of it is probably bullshit, but not all of it, and his personal history has been reinforced by the lessons of his generation — during Lee’s formulative years, Korea was told that the Gyeongbu Highway was shear folly, that it could never become a major shipbuilder, and that POSCO was a white elephant.

If I were asked what Lee’s biggest problem is, it’s that he doesn’t talk to people. Lee is many things, but one thing he’ll never be called is the Great Communicator. He is charasmatic in his own sort of way, but much of that is due to his personal history (or myth thereof), not because he’s a great talker. But even more damaging is that he doesn’t even try to talk. He’s the anti-Roh — while Roh talked way too much for his own good but hated making decisions, Lee likes making decisions but loaths trying to explain them to the voters. And even worse, he doesn’t even tell the public he’s going to make a decision. He and his people simply announce they’re going to do this or that — see, for instance, English education reform or the beef aggreement with the United States — with little or no prior debate or consensus building. Heck, I don’t even think the GNP knows half of what the president going to do until they read about it in the Chosun Ilbo.

This style of presidential leadership might have worked in the 60s and 70s, but it doesn’t work now.

The sad thing is, even in his first 100 days, Lee had plenty of warning. Before he took office, his transition team was forced to nix talk of emersion English education due to public outcry. He never learned to get along with his own party. Let me state for the record, I dislike Park Geun-hye, I think the pro-Park party is led by an absolute scumbag, and I sympathized with Lee wanting to shake up the GNP nomination system ahead of the April general election. But a politician with even the most rudimentary people skills would have learned somehow to make nice with these people. Problem is, Lee doesn’t have people skills. This might have been forgivable if the voters had agreed with him, but when the Park Geun-hye groupies put 30 bodies in the National Assembly while his closest friends lost, red flags should have gone up.

Alas, they didn’t.

Rush Job

Lee rushes things, too, without taking the time to properly build support for initiatives. Again, given his background, this is perhaps understandable — he is, after all, the former CEO of a Korean construction company, and anyone who’s spent any time in Korea at all knows how fast buildings go up here. He rushed things in Seoul, too, pushing the Cheonggyecheon, Seoul Forest and Seoul Plaza pretty much simultaneously. At the national level, however, this can be disasterous. Take the beef deal, for instance. The resumption of beef import was never going to be a popular decision, given the vested interests and political expediencies of some of the parties involved. Still, had he taken the time to discuss the issue with the public, he could have built something approximating a consensus, at least within his own party. At the very least, he would have learned just how far the public would allow him to go. Instead, he was dead set on meeting with US President Bush at the soonest possible moment, and equally committed to resolving the beef issue before the meeting. The result was a deal that, while not especially bad at face value, was still beyond what the Korean public was willing to accept, and made without any form of public consulation (or, it would seem, thorough consideration). Frankly, had Roh been president, I doubt he’d have made an appreciably better deal, but at least he would have taken the time to talk about it first.

The same criticism can be made of the way he has handled other controversial initiatives, such as English education and the Grand Canal. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it would have collapsed — like Lee’s presidency might — had anyone tried.

What Now?

Needless to say, Lee’s in trouble. His low approval ratings are the least of his concerns; street protests show no sign of dying down, and if he’s not careful, they may make the country ungovernable. If Lee is lucky, the United States will try to help him by agreeing to renegotiate the beef deal, which might take some of the protesters off the street. Unfortunately, the protests — however they might have begun — are now about more than the beef issue. How they will end depends on decisions by several social and political actors, and I have no intention of making predictions.

If he does survive this crisis, however, not all is lost. As a friend of mine once described him, he’s a guy you hate when you first meet him, but the more you deal with him the more you like him. As Seoul mayor, he left office more popular than when he went in. If he’s going to win back public confidence, however, he’s got to learn how to talk with people before making a decision, and to take the time to properly build support. Mending ties with his own party would be a good place to start — politicians might be sleazy, but they do have the people skills that Lee sorely lacks.