South Korea isn't a democracy—yet

Seoul

There's no question that something wonderful happened here on June 29. South Korea's authoritarian government had been expected to concoct the narrowest set of concessions necessary to placate its opposition, stop the rioting, and avoid martial law. Instead, ruling party chairman Roh Tae Woo went on television and offered the opposition everything it had asked for: direct popular election of the next president, release of political prisoners, restoration of political rights for opposition leader Kim Dae Jung, freedom of the press, autonomy for localities and universities, and respect for human rights. It seemed that South Korea was passing in a flash from dictatorship to democracy. Two days later the dictator himself endorsed Roh's proposals in full. "Let us advance into a new era of democracy," President Chun Doo Hwan told his people. "Let us throw the doors wide open on an era of grand national reconciliation." Happy as Americans should be for the long-suffering South Koreans if this all truly comes to pass, the satisfaction will be even greater because it comes as part of a gratifying trend. Following the Philippines, South Korea will be the second Asian nation to go democratic in the last two years, and there is a liberalizing trend at work in Taiwan as well. Following similar movements in Central and South America during the last six years and in Spain and Portugal over the last 12 years. South Korea's progress seems to justify America's abiding faith that democracy is not just good for the world, but also the wave of the future. And the record in South Korea, the Philippines, and elsewhere suggests that, whatever its failures in respecting democratic procedures at home, the Reagan administration knows how to be a good shepherd for democracy abroad.

Before anyone gets overwhelmed with euphoria, however, it needs to be observed that South Korea is not home yet. Twice before, in 1960 and 1979, the country got a brief taste of freedom—a "Seoul Spring"—but each time civilian government proved too weak to control events, there was disorder in the streets, and the military seized power. In 1960 a blackmailing, rumor-mongering press contributed to the chaos—a point that opposition co-leader Kim Young Sam made in appealing to newspaper political editors for responsible behavior during a private meeting on July 1.

This time there is more reason for hope, especially because South Korea's much-enlarged middle class is demanding political reform, top military officials are reluctant to get involved in politics, and South Korea's manufacturing tycoons think that pictures of tear gas on TV news shows around the world are bad for exports. The country is already the focus of world attention as the site of next year's Olympics, and South Koreans seem determined to establish a political system that will gain them as much respect as their spectacular economic progress already has earned.

STILL, a huge number of compromises need to be reached between the opposition and the government before elections can be held and reconciliation really can take place. South Korea's Confucian culture emphasizes authority and hierarchy rather than consensus, which in the past has always prevented democratic development. According to one experienced Western diplomat here, "Our concept of a free market of ideas is close to their vision of hell. It looks like chaos to them. In our politics, a deal is the measure of success. In theirs, compromise means a shameful abandonment of principle."