Krupp
The headquarters of Friedrich Krupp AG lay in North Rhine-Westphalia, the state that bordered the Netherlands — the northwest of Germany, where the population gathered most thickly, and where such famous cities as Dortmund, Düsseldorf, and Cologne stood. Of those, Krupp kept its seat in the great city of Essen, two hours by train from the capital at Bonn.
Ki-jo and his party had stayed on at the embassy until the day appointed with Krupp, then taken the train. Ambassador Sohn Won-yil did not come with them. It was a visit to a private firm, and with the loan already settled the meeting would be conducted at the working level; Baek Young-hoon knew Germany well enough that there was no need for embassy staff to accompany them either.
Whenever the Rhine showed itself beyond the carriage window, Korea rose in Ki-jo's mind. In the wake of the Miracle on the Rhine, people had begun to speak of a Korean miracle — and yet to call it a miracle was to ignore how much suffering the road had cost, and how thick the hardships had been. A miracle was something beyond all common reckoning, a mystery one could explain only by saying that God had lent a hand. Had Korea's rise truly been anything so uncanny? He did not think so. Everyone had labored, and everyone had paid. What they had achieved was the piled sum of days spent working as if life itself depended on it, holding on one day at a time simply to survive. Luck had played a part, and help from outside, but not every nation that received American aid after the 1950s had succeeded.
He was lost in that thought when Oh Yang-soo, seated across from him, spoke up.
"President Lee. What's on your mind?"
"Seeing the Rhine put me in mind of the Han. And of the family back in Seoul."
"Ha! You too? Same with me. We've barely been gone a week, and already I'm homesick."
At that, Hwang Tae-young and Baek Young-hoon nodded and joined in.
"One bowl of barley rice — a spoon of perilla oil, mixed through with gochujang, that fermented chili paste, and young-radish kimchi heaped on top. Give me that, and I'd have nothing left to wish for."
"You feel the same, President Hwang? So do I. I've lived in Germany for years, and my taste in food still won't change."
Baek Young-hoon shook his head as he said it. Hearing them, Oh Yang-soo — eldest brother of the loan-negotiation team — declared his mind.
"When we get back to Korea, we eat first. I'm paying."
"Agreed."
No one dissented. Merely talking of Korean food was enough to set their mouths watering, as if the smell of it were already in the carriage. The four men worked themselves into a fine heat over the subject, then fell quiet again. Oh Yang-soo and Hwang Tae-young nodded along until they were dozing. Ki-jo and Baek Young-hoon had found their footing with the time difference; the other two plainly had not.
The train passed Düsseldorf and paused briefly at Duisburg. Baek Young-hoon, seated beside Ki-jo, broke the silence.
"The atmosphere feels very different from the early and mid-fifties, when I was here."
"In what way?"
"When I was a student, every face was dark and closed. There was no ease in people. But look at Economics Minister Erhard, and at Germans now — they seem much brighter than they were then. It must be because the economy has improved, don't you think?"
"I believe so."
Ki-jo agreed. Korea, too, had been a rough and tight-strung country clear through the 1980s. Warmth among neighbors ran deep, but strangers were shown no mercy. That mood had softened once the 1990s gave way to the 2000s; people had more room to breathe, and their manners toward others improved. A full granary makes for a generous heart. Only when livelihoods grow easier, and the future looks bright, do people grow gentle.
"Why do you suppose Minister Erhard pushed the loan through without a word of objection? Chancellor Adenauer accepted it readily, too."
At the question from Baek Young-hoon, the economist, Ki-jo hesitated a moment, then offered what he thought.
"I can't claim any expertise. It's only something I've come to see in the course of doing business — the American economy has been in poor shape of late."
"It has."
"West German exports to the United States will have fallen with it, I expect. From the minister's seat, he gains the credit for aiding Korea, while nearly every dollar of that aid flows straight back to German firms. I suspect he means to keep his own companies alive, now that shrinking exports have cut into their profits."
Ki-jo had never studied economics, but he spoke from the currents of it he had learned by living. Baek Young-hoon answered with open admiration.
"Your insight is remarkable. I never believed they were helping Korea out of security concerns alone. You've come to much the same view I have, President."
"How could I stand on a professor's level? It only occurred to me while talking with my American partners."
Ki-jo met the praise with modesty. Even so, he had never doubted that Krupp would receive them warmly. He expected to be treated not as businessmen come begging from a poor country, but as customers who had carried a portion of the West German government's budget to Krupp's own door. He was not wrong.
As they drew near Essen Station, a conductor came to say he would help them off. When the train had stopped completely, the director of passenger services led the party not through the public gates but in by an office door, where the stationmaster of Essen was waiting. He greeted them and took them along a staff passage, away from the crowded ticket barriers. The moment they stepped out, executives and employees of Krupp were there to welcome them.
The succession of special treatment and sudden ceremony startled Hwang Tae-young and Baek Young-hoon. Ki-jo was not surprised in the least. Krupp, he thought, had simply arranged VIP protocol at Essen Station in advance.
A man who introduced himself as vice president stepped forward.
"Welcome to Essen. Our president is away on business, so I must ask your pardon for receiving you in his place. He has, however, entrusted me with full authority, so meeting me is the same as meeting him."
He had an open, genial face. Ki-jo thanked him once more, and together they rode a Mercedes to Krupp headquarters. No effort had been spared on the protocol.
The reception due an honored envoy continued after they arrived. A private elevator stood ready, and the doors of the executive conference room were thrown wide. Ki-jo's party went in and sat across from Krupp's vice president and his officers. The vice president rose to begin.
"First, on behalf of Krupp, allow me to say what an infinite honor it is to undertake so large a project together with Cheongsan of Korea."
Oh Yang-soo, Hwang Tae-young, and Baek Young-hoon flushed, as if the repeated welcome had swollen something in their chests. Ki-jo, untouched by the ceremony, rose and answered the vice president with perfect calm.
"We have great hopes for this first major project between Korea and West Germany. It will be a chance to display German engineering not only in Korea but across all of Asia, and I do not doubt that Krupp — possessed of the finest technical capability in Europe — will spare nothing to see it done properly."
It was his own party who looked unsettled by that assured bearing. They were borrowing the West German government's money to place the order — was it really all right to speak so boldly? The worry showed plain on their faces. The Germans, however, took the forthright demand as a matter of course. In business terms, Cheongsan of Korea was unmistakably the client, and Krupp the contractor.
Ki-jo sat only after the Krupp executives had applauded him, and the company's presentation followed at once. Thorough as Germans are in their preparations, information on the nitrogen-fertilizer plant, its blueprints, and the process flow appeared as slide photographs across the wall of the conference room. Through Baek Young-hoon, Ki-jo put the questions he had brought with him, beginning with how long it would take, once the plant was finished, for production to stabilize, and moving on to sharper ones — the manufacture of nitrogen fertilizer carried a risk of explosion, so what safety measures were in place? Each time, the responsible executive rose to answer. Whenever an answer fell short, Ki-jo kept asking until he had one he could trust.
He did it so they would not look down on him. Sell an enormous plant to a small country at the far eastern edge of Asia, and a firm might well take the money and wash its hands of whatever followed. All the more reason to press.
"If the machinery should break down, how does Krupp intend to respond?"
"We will dispatch technicians to Korea as quickly as we can."
Unsatisfied with the vice president's answer, Ki-jo asked again.
"There is still no direct flight between Korea and West Germany. In the end you would have to come by way of the United States and cross the Pacific. Will that be easy? And if materials are required, what then? I have to wonder, first of all, how you would even move parts out of Germany. By ship through the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal, and on across the Indian Ocean — can that be done in any reasonable time?"
Anyone watching would have thought he was building the plant with his own money. Uneasy at his manner, Oh Yang-soo signaled more than once with his eyes for him to stop. Ki-jo behaved as though he had not noticed.
"I will put the same questions to Montecatini in Italy. If Krupp cannot give me a clear answer to these concerns and Montecatini offers a solution, I will refuse the West German government's guarantee of payment."
The warning that a contract worth some thirty million dollars might vanish set the Krupp executives stirring. They seemed to have assumed that a warm enough welcome for the Korean delegation would be enough to see the matter through. The vice president put off his answer and conferred with the officer in charge, his face grave. Oh Yang-soo leaned in and spoke low.
"What are you thinking... You could throw the whole loan away..."
Ki-jo answered as if nothing were amiss.
"Brother, they don't know that the only government I can negotiate this loan with is West Germany. Let them go on believing I can bargain with Italy as well."
Oh Yang-soo nodded. He looked a little easier, though not entirely at peace. Baek Young-hoon bent close and whispered.
"The vice president seems to be dressing down his executive. They're badly shaken."
Ki-jo made a point of glancing at his wristwatch, again and again, to keep the pressure on them. When the discussion ended, the vice president offered a solution behind a broad smile.
"Thank you for waiting. Here is our plan. We will find a Japanese firm capable of producing parts to the specifications we require, and commission the work from them. That should shorten the time needed for repairs as far as it can be shortened."
It was a sensible enough proposal. It was not the answer Ki-jo wanted. With a look of regret, he tapped the desktop with his fountain pen, and while every eye was on him he addressed Krupp's officers.
"Korea and Japan do not even have formal diplomatic relations. Japan colonized us and has yet to offer a proper apology or reparations. For some time yet, relations will not be established. If the measure you just described is Krupp's final answer, I will not accept it. A plan that depends on Japan is far too unstable."
He flicked a glance at the men seated beside him, the signal to rise. Hwang Tae-young was the first on his feet. As the whole Korean delegation moved to leave, the vice president sprang up and came to Ki-jo.
"President Lee Ki-jo, please wait just a little, until we can devise a fundamental remedy. We have reserved a hotel nearby. Rest there in comfort, and let us talk again tomorrow."
He spoke as if entreating him. Ki-jo refused.
"We'll see to our own lodging."
"Please use the hotel we've reserved, whether or not we reach a contract."
The vice president pressed him. When Ki-jo nodded with the air of a man accepting against his will, a protocol officer from Krupp was guiding him at once. The man put the Korean delegation into a car and rode with them to the hotel. On the way, Hwang Tae-young asked the question that held every anxiety they carried, and every hope.
"Will it work out?"
Ki-jo kept his eyes on the streets of Essen beyond the window.
"We'll know once tomorrow comes. Krupp won't want to lose a thirty-million-dollar deal either."
Hwang Tae-young nodded.
"Thirty million dollars is a great deal of money. Enough to give a dollar to every person in our country."
They arrived at the hotel Krupp had booked and settled in. While the others stood wide-eyed at the luxury of the suite, Ki-jo went to the window and took in the view over Essen. High in the sky, a plane was flying west.
A company brought back to life on the price of Korean blood. I'll see to it they show some real sincerity...
So Ki-jo thought.