South Korea's president-electPark Geun-hye from the ruling New Frontier Party shouts her
name with members of her election camp in Seoul on Dec. 20, 2012. JUNG YEON-JE / AFP / Getty Images
Moving
forward won’t be easy. When outsiders think of Korea, they think of a divided peninsula, with the 38th
parallel separating the totalitarian North from the democratic South. But South Korea itself is split. This year’s closely fought presidential
race showed that South Koreans disagree not only about the future but also
about the past. As the daughter of the most influential leader in her country’s
modern history, Park Geun-hye is at the heart of that debate.
To
her supporters, Park Geun-hye is a symbol of stability. After seizing power in
a 1961 military coup, her father, General Park Chung-hee, made economic growth
a national priority, picking promising industries and using them to export the
country out of poverty. He put development first, urging his countrymen to
“fight while working.” That relentless work ethic helped the country become a
global economic player.
When
First Lady Yuk Young-soo was killed in a botched attack on Park Sr. in 1974,
Park Geun-hye stepped in as the acting First Lady. Her service to her grieving
father (himself assassinated five years later) won her a reputation for
steadfastness, poise and competence. Yun Byung-se, a career diplomat who served
as an adviser to Park Geun-hye’s campaign, describes those years as formative:
“Her involvement in politics and policy issues started very early.”
But
Park’s political pedigree also works against her. While Park Sr. is worshipped
by many South Koreans, especially older folk, for transforming the country’s
economy, he is despised by many others. Park Chung-hee once wrote that, “In
human life, economics precedes politics or culture.” But fulfilling his economic
ambitions caused him to tighten his grip on power, not loosen it. He jailed and
tortured dissidents, dissolved the legislature and rewrote the constitution to
buttress his own position. To veterans of South Korea’s democracy struggle, daughter Park is a symbol of the
country’s authoritarian past. For years, Park refused to criticize her father.
This fall she officially apologized for
the excesses of his era, but without condemning him outright. “I know more than
anyone the divergent views about my father,” Park told TIME in written
responses to questions. “I want to be judged on my own merits.”
To
win over her critics, Park Geun-hye will need to make good on her campaign
promises. The race that ended Wednesday saw Park shift the ruling Saenuri Party
away from the conservative policies of unpopular incumbent Lee Myung-bak and
toward the political center. Though South Korea is predicted by HSBC research to grow at a rate of
3.8% in 2013, many of its citizens are worried about the future. The gap
between rich and poor is widening, household debt is high, and a growing number
of people believe the economic deck is stacked against them. Both Moon and Park
pledged to reform the economy, notably by reigning in the conglomerates, or chaebol,
that have dominated the economy since the Park Chung-hee era. Any effort to do
so, however, will likely encounter strong opposition from conservative voters,
which puts Park in a tough spot.
Another
issue is gender equality. South Korea may have elected its first female leader, but it is a
heavily male-dominated nation, ranking a miserable 108th in the World Economic
Forum’s 2012 gender-gap rankings — sandwiched between the United Arab Emirates at
107 and Kuwait at 109. Women earn
on average 39% less than men and are overrepresented among contract laborers
who often toil for low pay with no benefits. In the run-up to the election,
Park promised a “women’s revolution” if she were elected and added issues like
child care to her platform — but while her family name means that the
Establishment will listen to her on issues of women’s rights, she may need to
temper her message in order to retain its support. Her critics certainly aren’t
sold on her commitment to gender equity, noting that Park herself played to
stereotypes during the campaign, promising “motherly” female leadership should
she win.
Perhaps
she should just drop the motherly part and concentrate on delivering good
leadership, period. That means setting a clear vision for her administration
and explaining how she’s going to realize it — preferably without the aid of
the cue cards and prompters she typically uses. Park’s reliance on set-piece
speeches has already earned her the nickname the Notebook Princess. As of
Wednesday, she must start writing her own script.