Dr. President

This is the third and last part in a three-part series fictionalizing the election of each of three presidential candidates. ― ED.

President Ahn Cheol-soo was alone at his chief executive office in the heart of Cheong Wa Dae.

Ahn appeared to be relaxed with his feet up on the big mahogany table.

Having grown up in a strict family upbringing, the certified medical doctor and software millionaire had rarely done so.

As a matter of fact, it was a new habit he had acquired lately.

This habit served one purpose for the new president. It was his way of pinching his cheeks to confirm he was indeed head of state.

Looking at his unshod feet, he gave himself a mental pat on the back, telling himself inaudibly, “You’ve made it.”

It was only natural for him to need this reality check, considering how he had come this far.

He gave a glance at his picture on the wall with the caption reading “19th President of Republic of Korea Ahn Cheol-soo.” His predecessor and 18th head of state was Moon Jae-in, who served only one year out of his five-year term due to an unexpected occurrence and left.

Ahn worked as prime minister under Moon and served as acting president when Moon was impeached.

He praised the Toynbian wisdom and appreciated a twist in history. Moon quit after the conservative opposition Senuri Party conspired with rebellious remnants of the Democratic United Party, his adopted political base.

The late President Roh Moon-hyun faced the same rebellion in the National Assembly but toughed it out in 2004. Roh’s political resurrection came when the voters angry with the rebels threw support behind Roh’s followers and helped make them a parliamentary majority.

Moon was different. He soon called it quits and was said to be on a trekking journey in the Himalayas.

“I think that there is a better life than being a president,” the 61-year-old impeached president said in his farewell speech at the presidential press center west of the executive complex.

“What a life,” Ahn said to himself, remembering a kaleidoscope of ups and downs in his adopted new career as politician.

It started on the night of Nov. 18, 2012, when he met face to face with Moon at a downtown Seoul restaurant.

Clasping Moon’s hands, Ahn was surprised to feel the strength of Moon’s grip.

Last time they shook hands, Ahn didn’t feel intimidated.

Once inside one of the rooms inside the restaurant, they faced each other over a table between them. On the table were only sets of cream-colored cups and saucers with no refreshments. All restaurant personnel went home and the proprietress was alone to help them.

Neither of them tried first to speak.

They had crossed the point of no return ― only one of the two would emerge to win the unified candidacy, if the two stuck to their joint promise to make a single candidate between the two.

It didn’t take less than 20 minutes before they rose to leave. Already, their aides had made the statement they would give to the media, which the two candidates were fully briefed about.

Moon beckoned Ahn to stay at the room as their staff were leaving.

Once they were alone, he offered Ahn the job of prime minister with real power in return for his support.

When Ahn smiled, Moon went on to say that he would not try and reinstate himself as president in any contingency that made him incapacitated as head of state.

Ahn didn’t give him an immediate answer.

The numbers were bad for Ahn.

Surveys showed that Moon was a rising force, while Ahn’s star was on the wane.

It was something Ahn had been forewarned about when he agreed to unify his candidacy with Moon’s.

He made his mind up to wait until the Nov. 21 televised debate with Moon.

Contrary to his expectations, the result of the Moon-Ahn debate only reinforced public preference for Moon.

Two options were left for Ahn ― going toe to toe in a formula for a single candidate selection, which was still undecided, or throwing the towel into the ring.

One thing he had learned from his short political career was that politics is much like alchemy since you can call a fool’s gold real McCoy and get away with it.

Ahn didn’t call Moon to confirm his offer was still good. Instead, he asked his spokesman to prepare for a news conference. Immediately after the news, rumors abounded that Ahn would stop pursuing his presidential bid to help Moon beat Saenuri’s candidate Park Geun-hye.

Ahn had sometimes regretted his decision and wished he should have gone all the way to see how he would match up against Moon in a single-candidate selection polls.

Once he won, Moon kept their gentleman’s agreement and appointed Ahn as prime minister.

However, Ahn didn’t gain real power and it was not Moon’s fault. Ahn concluded that even if he became president, he wouldn’t want to share it with anybody.

Things got out of control when Ahn had more or less made up his mind to serve his job honorably for a year or two before retiring from politics.

Stalwarts from Moon’s party rebelled out of frustration from being excluded from power and conspired with Sanuri lawmakers to pass an impeachment motion through the Assembly.

Moon asked Ahn to have dinner with him one evening and the two were alone together.

It was not Ahn but Moon who first spoke.

“It’s time,” Moon simply said.

Knocks on the door pulled Ahn out of his trip down on the memory lane.

He lowered his feet back before saying, “Please, come in.” <The Korea Times/Oh Young-jin Managing Editor>