Chapter 390
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Juche Diplomacy
If the home country of Korea was taking advantage of the war to pass the National Security Law, Korean construction companies were in a total panic over the sudden outbreak of war.
"Aigoo. What if all our materials and construction equipment at the sites get looted?"
"Ha. If we could just station some of our own staff there, we'd feel better, but we can't trust the locals in Libya."
The companies couldn't sleep at night, fretting over the projects they'd abandoned due to the war.
In fact, job sites in these developing countries were the kind of places where if you took your eyes off them for even a moment, locals would swarm in and make off with materials and equipment.
And now, with the war forcing a full staff evacuation.
It wouldn't be surprising if everything was stripped bare.
Of course, the Korean firms had posted local hires and mercenaries as guards, but that hardly put their minds at ease.
"Try calling the site again."
The chairman of Dae-a Construction, which had poured massive funds into the Great Man-Made River project in Libya, was one of the executives losing sleep.
"Director Baek is on the line."
"Hand it over."
Chairman Kang Dae-sik grabbed the phone and immediately asked the Korean director who'd stayed behind at the Egypt liaison office.
"Director Baek. How's the situation?"
"It's very bad. We're only getting sporadic reports from Libya. We heard yesterday that Site 11 was looted by mobs."
Just hearing it made his throat burn and bile rise in his gut.
That idiot Gaddafi.
Kang had a personal friendship with Gaddafi, but now even thinking of the fool's face made him want to vomit.
Why poke the American bear when you don't know your place and start this mess?
That's why they say you should never do business in developing countries run by dictators.
Kang finished his call with Director Baek and sank onto the sofa, loosening his tie.
"Woooooong!"
Just then, as if to needle him further, the TV showed fighter jets launching from carriers to bomb Libyan military facilities.
Each time the signal officer gestured like a ballerina, the jets roared into the sky.
The thought that those jets might bomb his sites made sweat bead on his palms.
This goddamn war.
When the hell is it going to end?
Chairman Kang Dae-sik of Dae-a Construction glared at the TV in frustration before calling his secretary to turn it off.
If the war dragged on like this, Dae-a Construction's losses would multiply exponentially.
The mounting interest costs alone were no joke.
The financing they'd secured already amounted to 700 million.
To calm his irritation, Kang pulled out a candy and popped it in his mouth.
The chief secretary offered words of comfort to soothe the chairman's mood.
"Chairman, this war won't drag on too long."
That's what everyone had said at first.
They thought it'd be over in a week, but as the conflict took an unexpected turn, it started dragging.
Two weeks had now passed.
What if it went on for two months, three?
Who was going to cover the interest?
The site damages?
Kang crunched the candy viciously and shot to his feet.
"This won't do. I need to go to the government and get some answers before I burst. Prepare the car."
"Yes, Chairman."
Kang wasn't the only executive racing to the government.
Far East Construction and five other major firms, plus twelve others, a total of eighteen companies.
The value of their stuck construction contracts, goods payments, and facilities in Libya came to three billion.
An astronomical sum.
Instead of heading to Yongseong's office, the executives went straight to Geumsu Mountain.
The savvy ones knew Yongseong was just a figurehead.
They pleaded with the director of the Planning and Coordination Office at Geumsu Mountain for government intervention.
"Director, if the government doesn't help with this, we're done for. Done."
"We understand the companies' plight."
"Understanding isn't enough. Our necks are in the noose right now."
The executives poured out their woes—from interest burdens to every other issue—begging for solutions.
"Don't worry. I'll bring this to the director's attention."
The executives visibly relaxed at Geumsu Mountain's firm assurance.
If the National Intelligence Service—that is, the government—stepped in, things would get handled somehow.
The government had never let them down before.
The Planning and Coordination director took the grievances from his meetings with the executives and headed to the director's office.
"Director, it's the planning director."
"Come in."
Bae Seong-jun happened to be reading the newspaper.
The Planning and Coordination director bowed politely and placed the petition papers on the desk.
"What's this?"
"Petitions from our companies regarding payments stuck in Libya."
"They need compensation for their losses, it seems."
Bae Seong-jun took the documents.
He'd already anticipated that companies would suffer from the Libya mess.
Bae read through slowly, then frowned.
The stuck amount was bigger than expected.
Five billion.
A loss that size could topple several domestic construction firms.
In Korea's massive economy, a few builders collapsing wouldn't cripple the nation, but it wasn't something to ignore.
Eyeing Bae's expression, the Planning and Coordination director asked cautiously.
"What will you do?"
"We can't bill the US, so we'll request the new Libyan government to assume the payments."
The director agreed that was reasonable.
In truth, that was about the limit of what the government could do.
So, focus diplomatic efforts on the US and the new Libyan regime?
As the director jotted a note, Bae said something odd.
"And for site damage compensation, we'll file a claim with the UN."
The director's eyes widened mid-note.
He doubted his ears for a moment.
"Pardon? A claim to the UN?"
It was absurd.
The UN paying for war-damaged construction sites?
Unless the UN had lost its mind, it would never set such a precedent.
Create a precedent like that, and the UN would be hounded every time a war broke out. No way they'd entertain it.
But Bae Seong-jun thought differently.
"What's impossible about it? Look at how much we pay in UN assessments."
Korea was the world's second-largest contributor after the US.
The amount was a whopping 90% of America's.
No way could the UN ignore the voice of a stakeholder that big.
'Even Japan bent UNESCO to its will using its contributions.'
UNESCO in the original timeline was notorious for favoring Japan in heritage listings thanks to its funding.
If a mere major power under US influence could do that, how could superpower Korea on par with America fall short?
Only then did the Planning and Coordination director grasp the dictator's intent.
"The US got the UN to cover part of this war's costs too. We just push hard and get our share."
"Understood."
Bae's orders soon reached Korea's Foreign Ministry.
Hwang Jang-yeop, Korea's UN ambassador, panicked at the directive to shove this nonsense through the UN.
'Push this lunacy in the UN General Assembly? Good lord.'
But he couldn't defy headquarters.
Hwang met with ambassadors from Second and Third World nations, urging support for Korea's position.
"If Korea says so, we'll back you with a word."
In international society, what mattered wasn't justification—it was power.
The weight of your claims depended on your national strength.
Unfortunately for the UN, Korea—the Eurasian hegemon—had the clout to call a deer a horse and make it stick.
Ambassador Hwang laid out Korea's logic in the General Assembly: the UN must compensate Korea's losses from the Libya war.
"No, why should the UN pay for that?"
Some nations reacted with disbelief, but Korea stuck to its guns doggedly.
"Didn't the UN push a war not everyone supported? It dragged on unexpectedly, causing huge damage—only right the UN shares responsibility."
Of course, Korea wasn't spouting complete nonsense.
Still, it was a stretch.
Nations clicked their tongues at the ridiculous demand.
The problem was, it worked.
"We support Korea's position."
Around a hundred Second and Third World nations backed Korea.
Could the UN sweep under the rug an issue supported by that many states?
Impossible.
Plus, Korea's bloc had two permanent Security Council members holding the line: Korea and the Soviet Union.
"We strongly demand this agenda be addressed in the General Assembly."
Korea hammered the point: since the UN shouldered much of the US war costs, it bore blame for the prolongation.
"We need this precedent so the UN can't use our precious contributions to fund any one nation's wars in the future."
Korea threatened to withhold payments if unmet.
"Those Korean bastards, really petty. They're serious about not paying?"
After wrangling, the UN and Korea settled: the UN would compensate three billion of the ten billion in evacuation damages.
For a UN heavily reliant on Korean funds, it was an unavoidable compromise.
Quite a few UN diplomats dubbed Korea's brazen diplomacy "Juche Diplomacy" behind its back.
"Who bullies with such self-centered logic?"
Korea shrugged off the finger-pointing at its Juche Diplomacy.
What mattered was having the power to make "bullying" stick.
And that was truly frightening.
The might that forces even "nonsense" to be heeded.
Through this outrageous Juche Diplomacy, Korea flaunted its stature to the world.