Judges should show even minimum respect for common sense
A man, 31, received 5 billion won ($3.9 million) in severance pay after working for a small property developer for six years.
It was more than 200 times the amount his colleagues might receive and a sum that executives of large companies who worked for more than 20 years could garner.
The man's father was a lawmaker of a major political party, heading a committee that prevents real estate speculation. By just listening to this, even grade schoolers can tell why the company gave the money to the young man ― and where it was headed.
A local court judged it differently.
Last Wednesday, the Seoul Central District Court acquitted the former lawmaker on charges of receiving a large amount of bribes from the land developer at the center of a high-profile corruption scandal. The court cited two reasons. First, Kwak Sang-do and his married son "could not be seen as one economic community." Second, the prosecution failed to provide sufficient evidence to reveal reasons for the graft.
The court's spokesperson refused to answer reporters' questions about why the company might have given such a massive sum to Kwak's son then. "We make it a rule not to comment on an individual ruling," the official said. Still, questions remain. Why did the prosecution handle the case so poorly? And why did the court interpret the law so narrowly?
The judges might say they were faithful only to the law. Considering that courts sometimes induced the change of indictment in similar situations, one can't help but wonder why the district court came up with a ruling contrary to the public's sentiment of the law. Daegu Mayor Hong Joon-pyo, a former prosecutor, represented many people's feelings when he said, "How could such prosecutors pass the state bar exam? Have all people in the judiciary branch been reduced to salaried workers?"
Social media is also full of cynical comments reflecting the people's frustration. "The court has shown a way to receive bribes legally." Or, "Dad, why can't I receive 5 billion won in severance pay?" Or "Let's call 5 billion won 1 KSD (the acronym of Kwak Sang-do)." The public has had a long and deep distrust of bureaucrats and politicians. However, it is frustrating to watch the gradual crumbling of the judiciary branch. Years ago, a judge raised many eyebrows with a guilty verdict on a bus driver who embezzled 800 won.
Prosecutors' leniency toward their former colleagues no longer makes news in this country.
The land developer is also suspected of giving or planning to give 5 billion won each to six other people, members of the so-called "5 billion won club." They include five former prosecutors and one ex-judge. However, unless this case received social attention with the court's acquittal of Kwak, the prosecution might have swept it under the rug. After all, this is the prosecution that managed to free a former vice justice minister from all charges of bribery, including receiving sex in return for a favor, after a nine-year trial. Welcome to the Paradise of Prosecutors.
Things might have been quite different had President Yoon Suk Yeol paid more attention to the case and instructed a thorough investigation through, for example, his morning engagements with reporters that no longer take place. Or rather, Yoon, a former prosecutor himself, could have shown a higher sense of the spirit of the law instead of urging the people not to break the law. Yoon has retained his interior minister responsible for public safety, who did nothing during the Itaewon crowd crush last October. "What law did he break?" Yoon's aides say, but the Constitution says people's safety is the president's foremost duty.
When law enforcement goes separately with the spirit of the law and legal officers become legal technicians, the government can hardly expect people's unity and support in times of a national crisis.
For South Korea, such an internal breakup should be a more serious concern than external threats like the ones from North Korea.