Chapter 315
Chapter 315
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Side Story 6: Intelligence Politics
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Korean government's push to open the labor market triggered a shift in the attitudes of workers who had been meekly suppressed under previous regimes.
“We can’t just sit back and let Kim Jeong-gil have his way.”
“Let’s make our voices heard.”
Major organizations, led by the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions—the nation’s largest labor federation—rose up in general strikes and other forms of protest.
“General strike!”
The Korean government tried negotiating to stop the mass demonstrations and strikes, but it was no use.
The workers demanded politically untenable concessions, such as scrapping the labor market opening entirely.
“If we give in even once to demands like that, we’ll be pushed all the way.”
“That makes sense.”
Even if the Kim Jeong-gil regime mouthed slogans like “Let’s go together,” did that reflect their true intentions?
The regime’s real priority was solely maintaining Korea’s position as the leader of the Third World.
The Korean government shifted to a hardline response.
Even during the Lee Sung-jun era, there had been worker strikes and uprisings.
To crush them, Korea first shaped the narrative.
The Agency for National Security Planning took charge of this effort.
“With the U.S.-Korea economic war at its peak, who exactly are these strike leaders helping? If they’re not traitors, then who is?”
Starting with the traitor frame, the Agency wrapped various narratives around the opponents’ necks.
Once the groundwork was laid, the media took turns stepping into the ring, mercilessly attacking the strikes and protests with the power of ink and pen.
“We herd them, then beat them with the press. It’s something we’ve done countless times—do you think you can stand up to us?”
After framing and pummeling them until public opinion turned, they deployed the police to crush them.
That was the Korean government’s playbook.
But things changed when the opposition entered the fray.
“Why should we sit this out?”
The opposition sided with the workers and seized the microphone.
They fiercely attacked the frames the Agency had imposed.
“Traitors? Isn’t Kim Jeong-gil the one selling the country out to foreigners? And he’s the one spewing that kind of nonsense at the public!”
With the opposition stepping up, even the Agency couldn’t hide its irritation.
“Weren’t those guys on board? 2nd Deputy Director, I told you to make it clear to the opposition.”
“Last week, I met with the opposition leader, floor leader, and secretary-general. I promised to bury the dirt from the last election, and they agreed on the spot.”
“And they’re still pulling this?”
“Looks like they’re using this strike as a chance to make a move.”
The Agency had to admit it had taken a hit from the opposition it had always handled easily.
“These bastards have gotten bold. They think they can match us just because we’ve been playing nice.”
The Agency racked its brains over having to redraw its strategy.
Separate from the Agency’s calculations, the opposition New Democratic Party was riding high.
“Let’s use this chance to raise our voice and expand the party’s reach.”
Target urban workers, especially the lower classes, to grow their base.
The New Democratic Party aimed to use this bottom-up strategy to create a 6:4 split with the National Assembly, enough to check the ruling party’s near-dictatorial power.
The New Democratic Party leadership hit the rally sites daily, grabbing the mic.
“In the Lee Sung-jun era, Korea was at least a country where workers could live decently. Is today’s Korea livable?”
“No!”
“It’s because Kim Jeong-gil opened the gates for foreigners to take our jobs, leaving us lower classes to suffer. What does his so-called Third World leadership have to do with the people? Didn’t he say people’s livelihoods come first?”
“Right! Kim Jeong-gil, withdraw the labor market opening now!”
The New Democratic Party scratched exactly where the workers itched.
They also swiftly neutralized the government’s various campaigns.
Racism?
Sure, they acknowledged it as an issue, but wasn’t the government—the one angering the public—the real cause?
For days, the Korean government took a beating from the New Democratic Party’s public opinion war.
But this wasn’t a government to be helplessly routed.
Under the Agency’s lead, it was preparing ways to smash the New Democratic Party from the shadows.
“Here’s how to shut up the New Democratic Party.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Kim Jeong-gil closely examined the plan brought by the Agency director.
Though the plan contained elements unfit for a democracy, the projected outcome was satisfying.
“This looks solid. Get it started.”
“Yes, sir.”
Korea’s intelligence apparatus, the Agency for National Security Planning, unleashed the covert operations skills honed against foreign governments on a domestic political party.
It began with illegal wiretapping and surveillance to gather dirt.
Field agents collected the material, and the Agency fabricated various incriminating documents from it.
The work itself wasn’t hard.
It was tricky only the first couple of times; for Agency veterans with hundreds of ops under their belts, it was as natural as breathing.
While the Agency moved, the Korean government activated the National Assembly.
“We need to amend the Constitution.”
The target: stripping lawmakers of their immunity from arrest.
“Won’t this put us at risk too?”
When the order came down to introduce the immunity-stripping bill, concerns arose within the National Assembly.
But one phrase silenced the opposition.
“It’s a direct order from Director Kim Jeong-gil.”
“Then we process it.”
The National Assembly mobilized its supermajority and rammed through the immunity strip in a single day.
The New Democratic Party froze when the bill passed overnight via fast-track.
“What the hell are these crazy bastards doing stripping immunity?”
The next day, the Agency handed pre-groomed New Democratic Party officials the “fabricated embezzlement and corruption files.”
“Just file these properly. We’ll guarantee your future.”
In the old days, they’d have dragged lawmakers to an Agency black site for a beating, but those times were gone.
Korea now had a status to uphold, so appearances mattered.
“We’ve received the complaint.”
The prosecutors accepted the filing and, unusually swiftly, raided the New Democratic Party headquarters with investigators in tow.
From filing to deployment: under five minutes.
It was all pre-orchestrated.
The New Democratic Party didn’t see it coming.
“Wh-what? Who are you people?”
“Prosecutors’ Office.”
Prosecutors.
The handmaiden of power, one of Korea’s five major power organs, capable of dropping even flying birds.
“Congressman, come with us. Let’s go.”
The prosecutors arrested exactly ten New Democratic Party lawmakers.
As the last prosecutor left, he issued a warning to the party leader.
“Chairman, we took ten today, but we might come for more tomorrow.”
Meaning they’d decide the scale based on today’s actions.
“These sons of—”
The Korean government immediately leaked the New Democratic Party scandals to the press.
Would you follow filthy, corrupt scum like these?
The Agency’s precisely timed assault was enough to flip public opinion.
Rally sites started buzzing uneasily right away.
The media blared the corruption stories.
They even hinted at links between the scandals and the rallies.
“Sources in the prosecutors say New Democratic Party folks took shady money from abroad.”
“If true, that’s a grave issue.”
Spreading rumors on broadcast TV was a privilege reserved for the regime.
Watching Kim Jeong-gil’s brutal, thuggish moves, the New Democratic Party realized the truth.
These guys talked democracy but were lawless thugs who wouldn’t follow even basic rules.
‘Compared to Kim Jeong-gil, even post-Yushin Lee Sung-jun was a hundred times better.’
The opposition raised the white flag at the rally sites.
“The opposition is withdrawing from the fight.”
“Some people only learn after a bitter taste.”
The Agency turned its sights back to the trade unions.
With the opposition ruining the framing battle, they tweaked the strategy to crush them.
“Let’s go with coaxing them a bit.”
The targets weren’t lawmakers but ordinary civilians.
The Agency had no qualms.
They quietly threatened select targets.
“You think you can keep living here like this? Maybe you can, but what about your family?”
“A-are you threatening me right now?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s advice. Remember what we can do and how far we’ll go. Unless you want to vanish like chicken feed, listen up.”
After breaking their spirits with threats, the Agency lured them with incentives.
Cooperate, and they’d get enough money to live on, plus new identities.
Eight out of ten caved to the threats.
The bold ones who didn’t?
The Agency repaid their courage with disappearance.
This fractured the united front of the Confederation and other groups.
Inside, accusations flew: traitors, turncoats.
Infighting, power struggles, scrapping over perks.
“Ugh, it’s ugly, so ugly. How can anyone support trash like that?”
As the labor movement devolved into chaos, public support and interest waned.
“Now deploy the police and wrap it up.”
The Korean government unleashed police on the holdouts, crushing them by force.
Thousands were investigated; over two hundred faced trial.
This quelled the noise around the labor market opening.
Kim Jeong-gil thought he’d muddled through the issue, but one problem remained.
The intelligence agency had begun functioning as a pillar of domestic politics.
One year into the Kim Jeong-gil regime from the Lee Sung-jun era.
In its shadows, the concept of intelligence politics had opened its eyes.