Chapter 257
Chapter 257
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Perception of America
-----------------------------------------------------------------
1964 was a glorious year for Korea.
In terms of hard power, represented by economic might, it solidified its position as the world's second superpower after the United States, and on the national prestige front, it successfully hosted the Olympics, proving that Korea was no slouch in soft power either.
Now everyone recognized Korea as the world's number two superpower.
With its elevated status came growing envy.
From the world's top superpower, America, to the outdated Europeans, countless nations eyed Korea's success with jealousy, seeking any chance to pull it down.
Lurking in the shadow of glory was the peril of decline.
Korea's national leadership clearly recognized this fact, but the public did not.
They believed without doubt that Korea would triumph forever.
The track record of never failing since Yi Seong-jun took power bolstered their faith.
"America may be great, but isn't it now a senile eagle that can't fly anymore? Just like the British Empire back in the day, Washington will have no choice but to yield hegemony to Pyongyang and step back."
"You can tell just by watching the dollar fall. The feeble dollar versus the sturdy won. Can't anyone see which way the future lies?"
Such thoughts manifested as a dismissive attitude toward their rival, America.
Ten years—no, twenty.
Given that much time, Korea would surpass America.
Koreans didn't hide their confidence.
This sense of superiority was easy to spot even among urban day laborers.
"Why doubt that Korea will become the world's greatest nation?"
"May I ask why?"
"We're growing, while America's stagnating. That's it—no grand reason needed."
The National Intelligence Service reported these survey results to me.
"Baseless confidence."
I saw Koreans' superiority complex as a dangerous toxin.
Fearing the opponent too much was a problem, but underestimating them was no good either.
Unfounded confidence could lead to demands for risky policies like preemptive diplomacy.
I felt the need to uproot this dangerous sprout before it grew.
"It's time to enlighten our people. Prepare a special documentary."
I decided to broadcast a documentary on world affairs to shift public consciousness.
The model was China's "Rise of a Great Power."
Thoroughly impress upon them how deep America's roots run, how vast its reserves are.
Following this policy, Korean Central Broadcasting threw all its efforts into preparing an unexpected documentary.
"A documentary depicting the journey of America, that superpower."
The production deadline was tight.
"No choice. Put as many people on it as possible."
Under the banner of public education and enlightenment, Central Broadcasting approached prominent American scholars, requesting their appearances.
"A broadcast for public enlightenment? If it's such a noble cause, we must cooperate."
Most big-name scholars gladly agreed for a modest fee.
"What about the parts where we're short on footage?"
"What else? Shoot reenactments and fill it in."
And so, hastily prepared in a flash, came "The Rise and Fall of the United States."
"Not bad for something thrown together in just two months."
Amid the solemn BGM performed by the Pyongyang Orchestra, America's waxing and waning fortunes unfolded over two hours.
From British colony to the world's mightiest empire—America's power and achievements.
Even the dominance wielded by the Five Eyes alliance it had built at its peak.
The broadcast team depicted America's strength in the documentary without exaggeration or restraint.
America isn't some laughingstock just because the dollar wobbles.
America remains the unrivaled strongest empire.
I made sure the public knew that fact.
"So don't harbor vain delusions."
Soon after, during my public Q&A session, questions poured in about the documentary.
"Your Excellency, is the gap between current America and Korea as vast as depicted in the documentary?"
Of course, not quite that wide.
Korea has the EA bloc, the Third World forces, and the noose around the Soviets.
But there was no need to fan the flames of public confidence with such talk.
"See it as even larger than you imagine. America transcends being the world's top superpower—it's practically the First World itself, an empire unto itself."
"Is there absolutely no chance for our Korea to surpass America?"
"Nations thriving yesterday can collapse tomorrow. Moreover, today's one year brings more change than the past decade. How could I presume to predict tomorrow?"
I never gave the public any assurance that Korea could overtake America.
This nation must not recklessly challenge America.
Rash provocation would only push Korea into the precarious straits of a reverse Cultural Revolution.
"Does our Korea have an alliance like the Five Eyes?"
"Pyongyang does pay attention to alliances in its own way. If it's about shared values like the Anglo-Saxons, then we have the EA sharing Confucian cultural spheres."
But I didn't show the public a picture of utter passivity.
Korea is preparing something for the hegemony contest too.
Just not enough to challenge America.
That was the exact image I aimed to project.
The documentary and public Q&A were a success.
Post-Q&A polls showed a clear shift in public perception of America.
"The sense that Washington is a joke has definitely diminished."
"Now people get it—how fearsome an opponent America is."
If public opinion fears America, that's enough.
As long as they don't dismiss America, they'll understand even if we show weakness in the trade war with America.
Seizing the moment to solidify perceptions of America, I sent experts frequently to radio and TV.
"So, per the professor, America isn't just a superpower—right?"
"Correct. America has monopolized most usable land on the North American continent. To match its weight class, you'd need to combine all of Western and Eastern Europe, or lump together the EA, Republic of China, and India."
"That's not a country—that's a continent."
"Precisely what America is. And it's one of the few nations that can self-supply nearly all its resources from its homeland. Only the Soviet Union matches that outside America."
We constantly fed the public on America's national strength.
America isn't just number one—it's the "overwhelming" number one.
The baseless talk of surpassing America quickly fizzled.
In its place rose the caution-toward-America theory.
With such a mighty nation showing hostility toward Korea, shouldn't we prepare countermeasures? That was the core logic of the caution camp.
"Hostility from the currency wars, huh."
Of course, the claim wasn't entirely wrong.
The U.S. Democratic administration was indeed readying its blade against Korea.
But we couldn't openly trumpet our countermeasures.
If the government did, it would signal preparations for open war with America.
Not just Koreans, but America itself might interpret it that way—and that was the problem.
"Not easy."
Caution is better than superiority, but excess could breed anti-American sentiment.
Once anti-Americanism sprouts, anti-Korean feelings would sprout on their side too.
A headache.
Was there a way to temper excessive caution?
"There is one method."
"What?"
"Remove the perception that America's the enemy."
Remove the enemy perception?
How?
"By digging up heartwarming stories."
Heartwarming stories?
"There might be a better way."
I came up with a brilliant idea.
A few days later, a letter arrived at the Korean Prime Minister's residence from America.
"Dear Prime Minister Yi Seong-jun. I'm Ann, an American girl, just turned 11. I thought Korea and America were allies, but lately many don't seem to think so. Do you really see America as a rival? If not, please tell me why."
An American girl writing to the Korean Prime Minister.
Of course, it was orchestrated.
"Ask the Korean Prime Minister about U.S.-Korea relations."
Days before the letter arrived, I'd run ads in New York and other cities.
The ads targeted "American citizens," framed as preparing dialogues with Americans—but the reality differed.
Among the letters, I selected one from a young girl that would appeal to the masses.
Then, I wrote a direct reply in the newspapers.
"To the young and brave Ann: Thank you for writing to the Korean Prime Minister's residence. Reading your letter worrying about U.S.-Korea relations makes me think we can hold more hope for bilateral ties. You seem curious about our relationship, Ann—I see Korea and America as good partners."
Lip service, of course.
If the two nations were truly mutually beneficial partners, there'd be no trade war brewing.
"The reason I don't see Korea as America's rival is simple: We need the American market. Without you buying our goods, how could Korean companies produce so much?"
But I had no intention of showing the public such obvious lines.
There was only one thing I wanted to convey.
"Korea does not view America as a rival or harbor any hostility. On the contrary, we feel affinity toward America."
Through the public pen-pal exchange between the Korean Prime Minister and the American girl, I hammered home that something like friendship existed between America and Korea.
To drive the nail in, I invited the real American girl Ann to Korea.
I even dispatched a cabinet minister to the airport to receive her.
The caution-toward-America theory staggered from this single blow.
With such heartwarming exchanges, who could push caution?
Cautioning America was enough for the national leadership.
If Koreans needed to harbor wariness toward America, the timing would be
one I decide.