A Little Girl Power in the RoK

On Wednesday, South Korea elected its first female president, conservative candidate Park Geun-Hye.  Park is not only the first woman to be elected president in the RoK; she’s also the first woman in all of Northeast Asia to lead a country.  Her victory is being touted as pretty remarkable, given the fact that Korea and Northeast Asia in general are very male-dominated, politically.

I don’t know that it’s such a coup after all, given the current state of affairs in Korea.  For example, more and more women in this country are seeking jobs and working outside of the home.  In a country where the marrying age has always been pretty late, many women are putting marriage and children off until their late thirties in order to have careers first.  This said, they still aren’t abandoning the need for a man completely; most Korean women are completely fixated with obtaining a boyfriend.  Having one is a big deal; having one with his own car is even bigger.  Also, most women in Korea only work until their children are born; at that point, they retire from their careers and become stay-at-home moms.  However, this delayed marriage/children trend makes me think that perhaps women are exercising a little more control over their own destinies.

Additionally, anyone who has lived here will tell you that, while on its surface Korea is run by men, ajummas are the real decision makers in this country.  Middle aged (and older) women are an absolute tour de force around here.  They are everywhere:  pushing past you on streets, carrying loads that would gall American women half their age, lecturing Korean teens and young adults about manners and giving up their seats on the bus for the elderly.  Ajummas move through Korean society like royalty, spending money like there’s no tomorrow and demanding attention and respect from anyone younger than they are.  More than once, I have been pushed out of line by an ajumma who just knew she deserved to get on the bus before me, and just today one cut in front of Ric at the grocery store checkout counter.  While doubtless more affluent and educated, President-elect Park is just another reflection of these women:  middle aged, strong-willed, and aggressive in fighting for what she wants.

Or is she?  While the term ajumma is used loosely to refer to any middle-aged-ish Korean woman, to meet the true textbook definition of an ajumma, you have to have children.  Park doesn’t.  Interestingly, during recent elections, her opposition addressed the whole “woman leader” issue by claiming that Park wasn’t a real woman because she had never experienced the pains of motherhood, opting instead for a career in diplomacy that included stints as an envoy in both Europe and China.  In a country that is facing a population crisis because so many women have opted NOT to have children, I don’t know if that statement was really a smart rhetorical or political move.  Park’s decision to eschew motherhood is becoming more the norm than the exception to the rule around here.  According to the CIA World Factbook, only 1.23 children are born to every South Korean woman.  This means that the Korean population is actually at risk of decreasing during the next twenty or so years.  I don’t know that it’s fair to equate womanhood with motherhood any more, even in an area of the world as traditionally male dominated as the Korean peninsula.

Gender politics aside, Park’s election really isn’t all that surprising from an empirical standpoint.  She belongs to the political party that has supplied the RoK with five of its last seven presidents.  Her father was the famous (or infamous, depending on who you ask) Park Chung-hee, whose presidency (for life) is credited with establishing and building the South Korean economy while pretty much trampling the human rights of its citizens.  Is it surprising that during a time when most of the world is in economic freefall, Koreans elect a conservative presidential candidate with economic growth (literally) in her blood?  Probably not.