Presidential candidates: Are you mad?

So the candidates are declared. Park Geun-hye, Moon Jae-in and Ahn Cheol-soo are running for Korea’s top office. All eyes are on Dec. 19; the games have begun.

Why are these candidates running? Perhaps, they are ego-maniacs, seeking to wield the national puppet strings in the most prestigious job in the land. Or perhaps they are truly good persons who believe that, in five years, they can improve the lives of their fellow Koreans.

Either way ― what on earth are they thinking? Who in their right mind would run for the Blue House?

I understand why one might want to lead North Korea ― as Kim Jong-un’s grin demonstrates, it’s good to be king. And on previous form ― i.e. the examples of his father and grandfather ― Kim III can expect to die peacefully in his bed after decades of dictatoring.

Leading South Korea is a different story. Have Park, Moon and Ahn considered the fates of those who came before?

The post-office records of the presidents who have ruled this nation since its establishment in 1948 are sobering.

Rhee Syngman: Exiled to Hawaii.

Park Chung-hee: Assassinated by close aide five years after his wife was shot dead.

Chun Doo-hwan: Sentenced to death (but reprieved). Widely reviled.

Roh Tae-woo: Ditto Chun, above

Kim Young-sam: Held responsible for 1997 financial crisis. Son jailed for corruption.

Kim Dae-jung: Legacy massively dented when it was discovered that he paid for his summit with Kim Jong-il.

Roh Moo-hyun: Following probes into alleged family corruption, committed suicide.

Lee Myung-bak: Fate uncertain, but his brother is already behind bars.

In the United States, ex-presidents are respected, and carry out limited diplomatic functions. In the United Kingdom, former prime ministers are automatically dispatched to the upper house of parliament. Both American and British ex-leaders strut across the international lecture circuit, where they are showered with ridiculous sums. In other words, they lead privileged lives.

Why do South Korean presidents face such harsh lives, post-office?

Partly, it is because the benchmark by whom all presidents are judged successfully transformed this nation from agrarian basket case to industrial powerhouse. But Park Chung-hee, were he elected today, could not repeat his trick. And that’s a good thing. As an authoritarian leader, Park’s stellar growth rates were accomplished by running roughshod over legal procedures, ignoring health and safety standards and stunting democratic governance.

Today’s democracy, with its concurrent rule of law, is a fairer but messier system, limiting a leader’s freedom of action. Korea will not tolerate another authoritarian.

Yet economically focused Koreans ― particularly media opinion formers, who seem to believe that less-than-stellar growth equals recession ― hanker after the glory days of national expansion. This presents Park’s successors with an impossible task, and sets them up for failure.

Along with slowing growth, Korea is heading toward a space occupied by Western nations since the 1970s. With their manufacturing industries losing competitiveness to cheaper players as the world economy globalized, Western countries were hammered by high unemployment and attendant social problems.

For all the talk of “knowledge economies,” experience of recent decades suggests that such economies are not only less able to generate mass employment, they are also socially polarizing: Some people do very nicely in the service sector but many others don’t have that opportunity.

This suggests a bleaker future. If these trends progress, even if the macro economy grows, the average Kim, Park or Lee will not necessarily see his/her economic situation improve. Moreover, this generation’s children lack not only job opportunities, but also financial stability. Koreans were formerly savers who benefited from high interest rates; now they are debtors lacking secure investment destinations. Moreover, salaries have been outpaced by asset prices. The current generation owns its own homes; their descendents may be unable to.

So the challenges facing the candidates are significant and Korea’s intensely competitive national character is not only harsh on losers, it may punish those who fail to meet expectations.

As a journalist, I (gleefully) endorse the holding to account of those in power. But in terms of her treatment of ex-presidents, I think Korea goes too far, for not every Korean leader is held to such high standards.

While presidents and politicians are subject to the law, chaebol chairmen are not. Tycoons, like North Korean dictators, can commit a range of crimes and misdemeanors but hold their jobs for life then die peacefully, leaving their companies to their not-necessarily deserving children. Yet tycoons have an easier job then presidents: It is easier to grow a company than to improve a nation.

Given the above, I’d suggest that ambitious Koreans should seek business careers. In that sphere, if you reach the pinnacle of power, even if you abuse it, your worst fate is bankruptcy.

In presidential politics, you have a good chance, on previous form, of ending up dead, exiled or jailed. The best you can reasonably hope for is to escape with your life and live far from the fringes of power, suffering from the dislike (or hatred) of fellow citizens.

I assume the candidates have weighed up risk and reward, decided the latter outstrips the former, and decided to run. I wish them luck; they are a strong field. But I fear that the winner (and his/her family), faces a rough ride in office, and a rougher ride out of it.

Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. His latest work “Scorched Earth, Black Snow” was published in London in June. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk. <The Korea Times/Andrew Salmon>

news@theasian.asia