Tales from South America to Korea (3)
The slogan on the banner, paired with the solemn atmosphere in the room, briefly had me wondering whether I'd walked into some kind of political cabal. Fortunately, that particular worry turned out to be unfounded.
"Now that we're all here, let's have a toast! Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
The moment the event actually got underway, there wasn't a trace of extremist ideology to be found. It melted into a social gathering so warm and convivial it could hardly have been more so.
Watching the elderly gentlemen throw off their suit jackets, loosen their ties, and throw their heads back with hearty laughter as they drained their glasses, I could have sworn I'd stumbled into a neighborhood senior center.
After a few rounds of drinks had made the circuit, Chairman Chung smiled gently.
"In the old days we were bound together by national development and loyalty, but you'd be hard-pressed to find that spirit now. This is nothing more than a social club for old businessmen rooted in heavy industry."
"Ah, I see. The badges and the banner were so intense I misunderstood."
"Haha. Even so, there are still quite a few who miss the old days. Call it a reminder not to forget how fiercely we lived back then. If Your Excellency wishes, I could arrange a separate gathering."
"No."
So that means there really is something like that.
I was just trying to put a little distance between myself and the subject when another voice cut in.
"There he goes with that dusty old talk again."
Chairman Yang of International Steel had jumped in on Chairman Chung's remarks.
"How long are you planning to keep living in the past?"
"Now look here—showing such a lack of propriety in front of His Excellency…"
"Talking about that stuff when we've got a guest sitting here is what's improper."
Chairman Yang poured wine into my glass as he spoke.
"Don't listen to that strange talk. I'll introduce the members myself."
He gestured to the man in front of him.
"This is Chairman Kim of Daejin Heavy Industries. They hold world-class technology in power-plant turbines."
"A pleasure to meet you."
"This is Chairman Choi of Hansung Construction. A gentleman who ate his share of sandstorms in the Middle East back in the day—he's known for construction capability that goes well beyond the domestic market and holds its own internationally."
"It's an honor."
"And here is LC Electric's…"
The roster was dazzling. These were faces I had only ever seen, back when I still lived in Korea, in the occasional newspaper or news broadcast.
The men who had built the Miracle on the Han River were all in one room.
"I hear you asked the Blue House to help Korean companies expand overseas?"
Once the introductions were finished, Chairman Chung dropped a well-timed question. It felt like a nudge not to miss my sales pitch, so I answered at once.
"That's right. I said I wanted a relationship in which we coexist and develop together."
"Fine words. May we hear what preparations you've made?"
"First, we've set aside ten square kilometers of land next to Libertad's southern port, exclusively for Korean companies."
Every gaze in the room swung toward me.
"If you move in, the land is provided free of charge, and corporate tax is halved to five percent for ten years."
"Those are considerably favorable terms."
"The most attractive point is that labor costs in San Marcos are one-tenth of Korea's. The labor market is also quite flexible, given how close we sit to the United States."
"That aside, I've heard the geography is rather good as well."
"It is. San Marcos is reasonably well positioned. Ports open to both the south and the north. Leave from the northern port and you reach Florida in half a day; leave from the southern port and you reach Mexico in a full day. Whether you're aiming at South America or North America, there's an advantage in distance."
Heads were nodding around the table when Chairman Kim of Daejin Heavy Industries raised his hand.
"As a matter of fact, Daejin Heavy Industries did look into entering San Marcos. We went all the way to the final stage before the plan was voided."
"May I ask how you arrived at that conclusion?"
"We decided the actual benefit wouldn't be large compared to entering Mexico."
"Is that so? May I ask why you reached that conclusion?"
"Infrastructure, electric power, and the political situation."
"Infrastructure is being expanded as we speak, and we've decided to introduce nuclear power. As for the political conditions… I find that hard to agree with. Public safety in San Marcos is far better than in Mexico."
"To put it bluntly, what worries us is what happens after you step down, Acting President."
"……"
A few of the others nodded, as if they shared Chairman Kim's concern.
He wasn't wrong, either. In Korea, the office of Acting President is a very short-lived temporary post. And when the administration changes, the policies change with it—that's how these things go. I had expected Korean companies to worry about exactly that.
But I had already brought the answer with me.
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Under no circumstances will what you gentlemen are imagining come to pass."
Chairman Kim asked, eyes wide.
"…Are you saying that the San Marcos government's Korea-friendly policies toward Korean corporate investment will continue?"
"Of course. Ten years from now, twenty years from now, the policy will continue. I can put this in writing for you."
"…!"
I looked around at the chairmen, who could barely conceal their astonishment at an answer that implied every legal procedure had already been completed, and drove the point home.
"I want to recreate, in San Marcos, the miracle you gentlemen built in Korea. If your experience and capital are combined with San Marcos's human and material resources, we will be able to write a new miracle."
"……"
"To that end, I and the rest of the administration intend to do everything in our power to assist you."
That was when it started.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
Chairman Chung began to applaud, his eyes gone red.
And then the questions poured in.
"I'd like to hear more about the industrial complex you mentioned earlier."
"If we were to build a factory, what would the procedures look like?"
"Would it be all right to send a site survey team in the near future?"
By the time every event had ended, it was nine in the evening.
Chairman Chung invited me up to his hotel suite, suggesting we have a cup of tea.
"Thank you for inviting me today. It was a truly valuable evening."
I bowed my head with genuine feeling.
"Hahaha. Don't mention it. All I did was make the introductions. Everyone was already champing at the bit to enter San Marcos."
Chairman Chung set down his teacup and smiled mildly.
I decided to finally voice the question that had been sitting with me all evening.
"There is one thing I'm curious about, Chairman… May I ask?"
"By all means."
"The companies whose chairmen you introduced today. Their business areas overlap with Hyunhwa Group's a great deal, don't they?"
Hyunhwa was the second-largest conglomerate in Korea. From defense to construction, heavy industry, machinery, chemicals—there was scarcely a field they hadn't put their hands on. Steel, one could grant, belonged to International Steel. But in construction and heavy industry their scale was so vast there was no reason whatsoever to go inviting their competitors in.
"At the rate things are going, Hyunhwa could have monopolized the San Marcos market in all but name."
At my question, Chairman Chung gazed steadily out the window at the nightscape of Seoul.
"Your Excellency. Do you know the meaning of Industry in Service of the Nation?"
"It means raising up industry to contribute to the country, does it not?"
"It does. Most of the chairmen you met today, myself included, are old men who have lived on a single pride: that we built factories and ships with our bare fists and raised this country up."
The look in Chairman Chung's eyes deepened.
"There were a great many hardships. I myself went under three times."
It was a famous story—it had even been made into a documentary—so I nodded.
"Passing through all of that to build the Hyunhwa of today, I came to understand one thing."
"What is it?"
"If you do not compete, you fall behind."
"Ah…"
"Above all, no matter how large Hyunhwa grows, it cannot recreate a second Miracle on the Han River by itself. As many steel mills as possible have to pour out steel before you can build ships, and construction companies have to lay the roads before the factories can run."
"……"
"Only when many companies go in, compete with one another, cooperate, and grow the pie does something you can call an industrial ecosystem come into being."
Chairman Chung looked me straight in the eye.
"That is how San Marcos becomes prosperous. And that is how the companies that enter it make even more money, is it not?"
For a moment I had no words.
I had taken him for a merchant drunk on past glory, chasing nothing but money. But this old man's chest truly held the future of San Marcos.
"I truly… don't know how to express my gratitude."
Overcome, I found myself taking his hand without thinking.
"Thank you for understanding this old man's heart."
Chairman Chung clasped my hand in return and spoke with force.
"Which is why I have one request of Your Excellency."
"Please. I'll hear anything."
"For San Marcos to get on track, it needs strong, consistent leadership. And so…"
Chairman Chung continued with an utterly serious expression.
"No."
Then when the hell do I get to rest?
On the afternoon of Eugene's third day in Korea, the great auditorium at Hankook University was packed to the walls with students.
They had filled it so completely that students were jammed into the aisles and up the stairs. The reason was simple.
They had come to hear a special lecture by the hottest name the school had ever produced: Eugene Choi, Acting President of San Marcos.
Once everyone had taken their seats on time and the moderator had warmed up the crowd, Eugene stepped onto the podium.
Thousands of eyes turned on him, bright with curiosity and something like admiration. He opened his mouth with that easy smile of his.
"Hello, everyone. Eugene Choi, Class of 2006."
The auditorium erupted in a roar. Eugene raised a hand to quiet the cheers and tossed out a joke.
"To be honest, this is a little surreal. When I was a student here, I spent more time at the pool hall than the library. I was always dozing off in the back row during lectures, and now here I am standing at the podium looking at all of you… I guess it's true what they say. You never know where life will take you."
A burst of laughter rolled through the hall.
The sight of a successful alumnus come home softened the atmosphere in an instant.
"As you all know, I currently serve as Acting President of a faraway country called San Marcos. But I didn't start out with some grand purpose. I went to San Marcos at a friend's suggestion, and I became Minister of Resources and Tourism at the former president's request."
Eugene's voice grew steadily calmer.
"And three years later, a bomb attack hit the Presidential Palace."
The hall went solemn.
"The president and the ministers all died. In that hell of smoke and dust, I was the only surviving member of the cabinet. That's how I became Acting President."
The students held their breath, pulled into his story.
"At first, I was terrified. I wanted to pack my bags and run that very day. The military could stage a coup at any moment, and outside, the cartels were shooting up the streets. It was lawless."
Eugene gazed into space for a moment.
"But I couldn't run. Someone had to hold onto the collapsing pillar. What held me up then was the woman who is now my chief of staff. Split a log and share it, and the weight is cut in half. That's how I began putting San Marcos's teetering political situation back together, one piece at a time. I persuaded the military. I took a hard line against the cartels and stabilized public security."
Everyone was being drawn into the vivid lecture. On ruined land he had laid roads, built factories, developed oil fields, and established banks—and he told that almost miraculous story in a tone that was both matter-of-fact and powerful.
"San Marcos has only just begun to take its first steps. It's like drawing a picture on a completely blank canvas."
He smiled as he looked out at the students.
"But I've found that picking up the brush and painting a new world yourself is far more thrilling than sitting back and admiring a picture that's already been painted."
Here and there, the sound of dry swallows carried through the hall.
Eugene hadn't said it directly, but the students could feel it. How much more compelling the life of a pioneer building a new nation in the rugged wilderness of San Marcos was, compared to a life in Korea spent running along a set of predetermined rails.
A small flame began to kindle in the students' chests.
"Who knows? Someday San Marcos might stand shoulder to shoulder with any number of advanced nations. I'm running toward that day."
The lecture had been short, but it had been intense. It was over.
"Does anyone have questions? I don't have a great deal of time, so I'll take just a few."
Eugene's consideration that wasn't quite consideration sent dozens of hands shooting into the air.
"You there—the junior with the glasses? What would you like to know?"
The student who received the microphone looked Eugene straight in the eye and spoke.
"My name is Jeong Min-yong. I'm a Class of 2021 student in the Department of Political Science and Diplomacy. Since you were the first to call us your juniors, would it be all right if I called you senior as well?"
"By all means. Today I'm here as a senior speaking to juniors, not as a public official of San Marcos."
"Thank you. Then I'll ask my question."
The student drew a breath.
"First, I found today's lecture truly moving. I have great respect for the leadership that rebuilt a nation under such difficult circumstances."
"Thank you."
"But there is one question I ask with some hesitation."
"What is it?"
A wild question nobody had seen coming had just walked into the room.