Chapter 65: That Time I Started Saemaul Undong in South America

TL: Skye

The road from Libertad International Airport to the Presidential Palace was, quite literally, a sea of humanity.

"Whoooaaaaa–––!!"

"¡Viva Yu-jin! ¡Viva San Marcos!"

"His Excellency looked at me!"

"Aaah...!"

Tens of thousands of people packed both sides of the road, waving the flag of San Marcos.

They had gathered for nothing more than a single glimpse of Yu-jin's face as he passed by. There was no special occasion, no particular reason. They had simply come.

Yu-jin waved and answered their cheers.

The instant the window slid shut, however, his face sagged with exhaustion.

"Hah... I'm wiped out."

A grueling schedule in Korea followed by a long-haul flight had left his body feeling like lead, but the moment he arrived at the Presidential Palace, Yu-jin convened a Cabinet meeting with the Senior Secretaries who had been waiting for him.

The situation in Latin America was a candle in the wind.

"We can skip the pleasantries. What's the situation in Venezuela right now?"

At Yu-jin's blunt question, SIA Director Lucio rose with a thick file folder in hand.

"Pure chaos, sir. Immediately after U.S. Delta Force abducted President Maduro, an interim transitional government headed by Vice President Delcy was established in Caracas. Vice President Delcy was originally anti-American, but since the incident she has pivoted to a pro-American stance."

"Maduro's faction won't take that lying down."

"Correct. Remnants of the military and the militia are signaling extreme resistance. Anxiety is spreading that urban combat may break out, and public order is extraordinarily unstable."

Yu-jin's brow furrowed.

"What's the probability the situation escalates to extremes?"

When the neighbor's house catches fire, the flames can spread to his own.

If, by any chance, the Caribbean shipping lanes were blockaded, it could deliver a fatal blow to a San Marcos economy that had only just begun finding its footing.

"SIA analysis puts the probability of escalation to all-out war at less than one percent."

Lucio answered with absolute certainty.

"That's a relief. Senior Secretary for Resources and Tourism. Have you assessed the crude oil sales situation?"

Resa shot to her feet.

"Since the Refinery Plant came online, we have phased down the share of crude oil exports, so the impact has been minimal. We are exporting refined petroleum to El Salvador, Uruguay, Paraguay, and other South American nations, and we project that revenue will actually exceed previous figures."

"At least there's that."

"As a precaution, in case of any disruption, we are exploring exports to Europe."

"Direct entry into Venezuela would be out of reach, I take it?"

"I've heard the U.S. majors have completed full preparations and are standing by. There appears to be no opening for Tortilla Energy to slip in."

"Well, you can't show up at someone else's table with just a spoon. Good work."

Only then did Yu-jin let out a sigh of relief and loosen his tie.

"And the highway construction? Will this crisis cause any disruption to imports of raw materials or heavy equipment?"

"Fortunately, our import routes are diversified, so there shouldn't be a major problem, it seems."

In an instant, Yu-jin's brow furrowed.

"It seems? Is the highway construction a joke to you? Don't you understand this is a national project?"

"M-my apologies!"

"Go back this instant, investigate every possibility, prepare contingency plans, and report back."

"Yes, sir!"

The Senior Secretary for Construction bolted out of the room.

It was only natural that Isabella and Lucio fixed sharp gazes on the Senior Secretary for Construction.

After that, Senior Secretary for Finance Ricardo finished his briefing on Tortilla Bank, the Senior Secretary for Internal Affairs reported on tightening discipline in the civil service, and the Senior Secretary for Education reported on the construction of regional schools.

"Good. Nothing major, by the looks of it. You've all worked hard while I was away. Let's wrap up here for today and reconvene in two days."

Yu-jin rose wearily from his seat.

At the sight, Isabella's eyebrow twitched.

The most critical item on the agenda, the election, had been skipped entirely.

Of course, given Yu-jin's current popularity, even if the Presidential Election were held tomorrow, his victory was a foregone conclusion.

There was no opposition party, and no rival to begin with.

But Isabella's goal was not mere victory.

A 100% approval rating. An impregnable fortress, built on the foundation of universal national support, that no one could ever shake.

That was the blueprint she was drawing for the Yu-jin Choi regime.

But there was an obstacle.

The unregistered persons in the provinces, who had only recently been folded into the household registry.

Yu-jin had built schools and provided jobs through highway construction, but a fair number of people still saw none of those benefits.

Some households had no children, and construction sites were, fundamentally, work for men, and young men at that.

Households made up of women and the elderly remained chained to poverty.

What if they turned their backs?

The approval rating might just slip below 99%.

Which would mean a 1% opposition to the regime.

And if that 1% chose their own representatives and began raising their voices?

In five years, that 1% becomes 10%; in ten, 15%, perhaps even swelling to 20%.

For Isabella, who was aiming for the perpetual rule of the Yu-jin Choi regime, that was deeply unsettling.

'After this Cabinet meeting, I'll have to summon the UF (YUJIN FOREVER) members and discuss countermeasures.'

That was when Isabella, lost in grim contemplation, was caught off guard.

Yu-jin, already on his feet, tossed a document envelope onto the desk as if he'd just remembered something.

"Ah, Isabella."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"This is the ODA project material I negotiated with the Korean government. Take a look and see if it can be adapted to our circumstances."

"What sort of project is it?"

"A program for revamping rural villages... give it a read. You'll grasp it quickly. I'm exhausted, so I'll leave it to you."

Yu-jin waved a casual hand and disappeared.

Isabella picked up the envelope, puzzled.

She opened it, and as she read down the project summary on the first page, her pupils began to dilate.

[Project: SAEMAUL UNDONG]

'This is...!'

The very master key Isabella had been searching for was inside.

'Your Excellency... just how far... are you seeing?'

A chill ran the length of her body.

*

A short while later, in a sealed room beneath the Presidential Palace.

Isabella and the rest of the UF members were gathered, locked in heated debate over something.

Saemaul Undong.

The Korean ODA initiative, a Korean-style rural development program, that Yu-jin had handed over for them to tailor to San Marcos's actual conditions.

The intensity of the debate could be felt even outside the sealed door.

"...we'll need to plant informants in every village to cut off seditious intent before it takes root."

Lucio, the most hardline of the UF, kept letting fall one chilling proposal after another.

"More than half of these people can't even read properly. What's the use of recruiting informants we can't actually use?"

Anna, the Protocol Secretary and a fierce realist, shook her head.

Beyond that, Pedro proposed stationing a five to ten man platoon in each village under the pretext of assisting agriculture, while Resa floated the idea of encouraging the residents of Libertad, whose incomes had risen, to take up rural tourism.

After roughly ten hours of debate, the framework of Saemaul Undong (San Marcos ver.) was distilled into five main pillars.

Income-generation projects for provincial farming villages.

Differentiated housing project subsidies for villages based on their Saemaul Undong performance.

The establishment of organizations composed of women, securing women's rights.

Morning wake-up routines and the regimentation of healthy daily habits.

Welfare expansion for provincial residents, including night schools and public health clinics.

On paper, every line of it was policy for the rural population and the nation.

Look closer, however, and it was a spider's web of traps engineered for Yu-jin's dictatorship.

Take just the rural income-generation project.

The plan was to import tobacco, the Korean model of a high-yield cash crop, and use it to boost rural income.

If rural incomes did in fact rise, the farmers would profit and the state would collect taxes. A win for both sides.

Failure was practically impossible from the start.

Korea, a leader in tobacco cultivation, had agreed to provide the methods and seeds, and San Marcos enjoyed near-perfect natural conditions for growing the crop.

But what if the government monopolized the tobacco seeds?

What if the government took total control of the post-harvest purchasing?

The provincial farms would have no way to defy the government.

And the rest of the policies were the same.

Each village would be made to compete on how faithfully it followed policy, with housing project funds doled out on a tiered scale; a shadow organization called the Women's Association would be set up to control public opinion; and through morning exercises and other daily rituals, loyalty to His Excellency would be quietly instilled.

On top of that, there were genuine welfare measures, the night schools and public health clinics, which would only push Yu-jin's approval ratings higher.

"With this, His Excellency becomes the god of San Marcos."

"......"

The UF members nodded, their faces taut with tension.

***

One week later. Libertad International Airport, San Marcos.

The agricultural technical advisory team, dispatched as part of the Korean government's ODA program at the request of the San Marcos government, was filing out of the arrivals gate.

The team, made up mainly of veterans from the Korea Tobacco and Ginseng Corporation and seasoned experts from the Rural Development Administration, was already drenched in sweat.

"Ugh, it's hot, hot. The weather here is no joke."

"Team Leader, will tobacco farming really work here? The climate may fit, but the people are the problem, aren't they? This crop is uncommonly labor-intensive..."

Section Chief Park, dragging his suitcase alongside, asked in a worried tone.

"You're telling me. South Americans are famously laid-back, you know that. My worry is they'll learn the technique, get drunk, and forget the whole thing."

"Haha, indeed."

The advisory team stepped out of the airport with rueful smiles.

The truth was, they had already braced themselves for failure.

Teaching South Americans, infamous for laziness, how to grow not even rice but tobacco, the most demanding crop in farming, was no ordinary undertaking.

'It'll take three years of hard slog, minimum, just to lay the basics.'

Just as Kim Seon-heung, team leader of the agricultural technical advisory team to San Marcos, was steeling his resolve, a South American man holding up a placard in the distance approached.

The man, who was unmistakably a civil servant, stumbled out his Korean.

"He... llo? Welcome to... San Mar-cos. I am your guide... My name is Josh."

"Oh? You speak Korean?"

"In San Mar-cos... Korean is in fashion. Josh studied... very hard."

"Haha, that means a lot to me. Thank you for taking an interest in Korea."

"Now? I will guide... you to your lodging. Follow Josh."

And so the advisory team followed Josh into the car.

As the vehicle pulled out of the airport and entered the city, music suddenly rang out from speakers all around. People turned their bodies to face north and placed their right hands over the left side of their chests.

A scene that looked oddly familiar.

Kim Seon-heung asked, half-disbelieving.

"Huh? What is everyone doing?"

"They turn their bod... ies toward the Presidential Palace and... salute His Excellency. San Mar-cos people always do this."

"...And what happens if they don't?"

"No such thing. No matter what? They do."

"But surely there are people who don't want to?"

"There are no people who do... not want to. If there is, they... are foreigner, probably."

"......"

Kim Seon-heung sensed something was off.

*****

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