When the history of this tumultuous week in South Korean politics is written, legislators who demanded the president rescind his declaration of martial law would surely be lauded. It is also worth standing back to examine the role that economics has played in the country’s transition to democracy and why that least-worst system of government survived.
The contribution of capitalism — its constraints and opportunities — has been vital. The rhythms of global commerce have been present at key points in South Korea’s journey. It is fair to say that without the thrills and spills of money, there would not have been a mature democracy to protect. That you may not have noticed is a testament to its success and durability.
Of all the potential year-end shocks that traders had gamed out, Tuesday night’s brief, but alarming events did not come close to making the cut. Markets were braced for social media posts on outlandish cabinet picks by US president-elect Donald Trump, new tariff threats and the prospect of a French government implosion, not an attempted coup by South Korean President Yoon Suk-yeol.
Illustration: Kevin Sheu
The reaction was swift, but contained: The currency tumbled in offshore trading, along with other assets tied to South Korea. By Wednesday morning, after lawmakers rebuked Yoon, the won had recouped losses and bonds were little changed.
Equities fell in local trading, but by no means was it a bloodbath. Regulators were ready to provide ample liquidity. Dramatic gestures such as shutting the stock exchange were eschewed, as were panicky moves such as further interest rate cuts. Officials backstopped the system without fuss.
That is the way it is supposed to work: Instill confidence, not sap it. Textbook central banking.
That does not mean the economy would sail smoothly. GDP rebounded slightly in the third quarter from a modest contraction in the previous three months. The Bank of Korea had already signaled its worries by unexpectedly reducing borrowing costs last week and making concerned noises about a resumption of trade wars. However, a cyclical downdraft is different from a shock that strikes at the heart of the administration. (When I wrote that the country was preparing for bleak days, the would-be putsch was not what I foresaw.)
The good news is that economics and political upheaval have often been strange bedfellows in South Korea — and elsewhere in Asia. As military-backed leaders in Seoul pushed rapid industrialization in the years after the 1950 to 1953 war that left the peninsula divided, it was almost inevitable that prosperity would bring with it a rising middle class that became more aspirational and demanded a greater say in how it was governed. The scrutiny that came with integration in supply chains, inbound and outbound investment, and the price demanded for access to global markets forced South Korea to clean up its act.
Booms also bring busts and Seoul came within an inch of default in the late 1990s during the Asian financial crisis. As wrenching as the meltdown was, it was also part of a big shift in the country’s politics. For the first time, a long-standing opposition politician, Kim Dae-jung, was elected president. Government figures tried to murder him during the dictatorship years, but US intervention kept Kim alive. His moment came and the transition to full democracy was complete.
As lawmakers debated the future of the now disgraced Yoon on Wednesday, former South Korean minister of trade Yeo Han-koo sat down with Bloomberg journalists in Singapore.
I asked him whether, from a historical vantage point, the ebbs and flows of capitalism were effectively the midwife to democracy in Korea.
“Absolutely,” Peterson Institute for International Economics senior fellow Yeo said. “There’s no turning back.”
Financial swings also led to a revolution and, ultimately, a freer system in Indonesia. It has not been perfect; the years after the International Monetary Fund imposed harsh conditions on loans that pushed autocratic, former Indonesian president Suharto out were marred by communal violence and efforts by far flung provinces to break away. Although Suharto’s son-in-law, Prabowo Subianto, now sits in the presidential office, he had to get there the hard way — via the ballot box. In Malaysia, former prime minister Mahathir Mohamad held on to power for a few years after the financial collapse, but the ructions it produced cemented Anwar Ibrahim as the leading alternative. Anwar became premier in 2022 and presides over a sprawling coalition that, against the odds, he has held together.
There are exceptions to these encouraging stories: China did not democratize as its economy flourished and markets took shape. If anything, it has gone in the opposite direction: Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) has accrued more personal authority than any leader since Mao Zedong (毛澤東). Perhaps the moral is you have to be very big to stand against the forces that thriving capitalism and an open economy unleash. Taiwan did manage the transition after decades of enviable growth.
Governance can take detours, as Koreans have found out. However, the necessities of operating within the global economic system also bring checks on the power of ambitious leaders. Let us salute the people of South Korea, but also the not-so-invisible hand of commercial priorities.
Daniel Moss is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering Asian economies. Previously, he was executive editor for economics at Bloomberg News.
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,
RSS