ASIAWEEK AGENDA KOREA

The next presidential election, scheduled for Dec. 18, marks yet another advance. This year, five serious candidates will battle to succeed President Kim in the most open presidential election in Korean history. Although veteran campaigner Kim Dae Jung currently leads in opinion polls, the race is considered to be wide open. For the first time, there is a chance that power may shift to a real opposition candidate. Despite his past as an oppositionist, Kim Young Sam won the 1992 election as the standard-bearer of the ruling party.

Whoever becomes Korea's next president faces a truly daunting task. The economy is in the worst shape since the recession of 1980. In the past year, half a dozen major corporations have gone bankrupt, taking with them hundreds of smaller companies. The financial markets are weak, with bank failures threatening and international confidence sagging. "I hope the next leader undertakes economic reform on a large scale," says Rhee Namuh, head of research at Dongbang Peregrine Securities. "That's the only way for Korea's economy to grow."

In fact, the situation is possibly more serious than some of the economic indicators suggest. That is because the old formula that Park used so successfully to transform a sick man of Asia into a world-beater no longer works. Indeed, there is growing consensus that the traditional business-political nexus -- the world where strong political leaders steered capital from compliant, quasi-state banks to favored business conglomerates -- is not only failing but probably counterproductive, as it has spawned political corruption on a gargantuan scale.

Adding to this is the festering food crisis in North Korea. Whoever wins the Dec. 18 presidential election, it is conceivable that sometime during his five-year term he will have to deal with a collapse of the Pyongyang regime and the forced reunification of the country -- an event that everyone who has studied the issue believes will make the reunification of East and West Germany pale in complexities. Yet none of the candidates offer much beyond platitudes. "We must work together with the U.S. and Japan in dealing with North Korea," says Kim Dae Jung. Policy tends to drift on a case-by-case basis, often responding to American initiatives.

"We need a leader whom the entire nation can rally around and who can solve the key national issues of economic advancement and reunification with the North," says Song Ja, president of Myungji University. Are there any among the five candidates who fit the bill? More to the point, is South Korea's democracy and political system capable of throwing up such a candidate and then sustaining him in this task over the five-year term? Or will the new president inevitably be chewed up in scandals like the previous two incumbents?

The role of front-runner is unfamiliar for the grand old man of Korean politics, Kim Dae Jung. A survivor of an assassination attempt and a onetime exile in the U.S., the former democracy activist is running for president for the fourth time. For all his democratic credentials, he has been accused of being, at worst, a dupe of North Korea or, at best, a political innocent. With his lifelong goal now a seemingly realistic possibility, Kim has tacked toward the right in an effort to, if not exactly win votes from conservatives, at least allay fears that he is a crypto-communist. He has even taken to criticizing Hanchongnyon, the radical pro-Pyongyang student group.

Yet Kim may be spending too much time fighting old battles and not enough in presenting new ideas about the serious reforms that the country needs to get its economy moving again. To dispel fears that he is anti-business, Kim now says: "I'm not going to touch the chaebol [conglomerates] so long as they strictly observe the anti-trust and other laws" -- even though many Koreans now feel the business giants should undergo changes and restructuring. He offers bromides such as: "We must nurture good companies and must allow bad companies to go bankrupt."

The other of the familiar Kims in the race, conservative Kim Jong Pil, also carries some disadvantages. Though politically experienced and popular with a section of right-wingers, many dislike him because he was closely allied with strongman Park (he helped in the latter's 1961 coup). "Considering his past experience in government and politics, he might be a good president," says Chung Ji Eun, a housewife and part-time teacher. "But I think we should cut our links with the past." For many people, Kim Jong Pil offers sensible solutions; yet many others do not trust him.

If not one of the Kims, then voters can choose from Lee Hoi Chang, the official nominee of the governing New Korea Party (NKP); Rhee In Je, the recently resigned governor of the central Kyonggi province who bolted from the NKP to run for office; and former Seoul mayor Cho Soon. All three have the advantage of being comparatively fresh faces for an electorate weary of the familiar trio of Kims. All proudly proclaim their incorruptibility in a country where every major leader, even Kim Dae Jung, is brushed with corruption.

Unfortunately, since he won the NKP nomination last July in his party's first open convention, Lee has yet to catch fire with the voters. Indeed, he currently languishes in third place in opinion polls behind Kim Dae Jung and newcomer Rhee. He stumbled early on with allegations that his two sons had dodged compulsory military duty. More seriously, the former judge has not projected much leadership, despite being formally inaugurated as head of the NKP on Sept. 30. He is accused of vacillating between the warring factions of his party.

The two other new faces in the lineup also have yet to make a strong impression or to elucidate much of a political program (although Rhee's official candidacy is admittedly only a few weeks old). Both Cho and Rhee have credentials as administrators, but they suffer from having broken implied promises made to their electorates, as they did not complete their terms of office as mayor and governor respectively. This is not something taken lightly in Korea, since it is only in the past three years that people have been able to select their own local leaders instead of having them appointed by the central government. Now Seoul and Kyonggi are back in the hands of bureaucrats, while their former leaders campaign for higher office.

The latter is just one example of how unformed South Korea's new democracy is and why some question whether the political system is up to the task ahead. Political parties are still weak. The dominant organization, the NKP, has had three names in the past ten years. The opposition National Congress for New Politics exists solely to advance the interests of Kim Dae Jung. When he passes from the scene, so probably will the party. The same is true of the United Liberal Democrats of Kim Jong Pil. The vast majority of Korean people profess no commitment to any political party.

Regionalism, however, remains a huge factor. Kim Dae Jung is riding high in part because he has a wide following in the Cholla provinces to the southwest. For the first time, there is no counterbalancing champion from the powerful Kyongsang provinces in the southeast. Having no obvious ideological differences beyond personalities and regional sympathies, the political parties depend inordinately on shaking down chaebol chiefs and other businessmen for campaign contributions.

Whether the candidates, and more importantly the winner, can surmount these fundamental weaknesses remains a question. Ryu Keun Il, an editorial writer for the popular conservative daily Chosun Ilbo, compares the country's situation to that of a popular Korean song called Barley Field. "You hear this beautiful song. You want to know where the song is coming from, but you find nothing but a glowing sunset," says Ryu. The people hear all these beautiful songs emanating from presidential candidates, but still do not know where these leaders are taking the country in the next century.