President Lee Jae Myung, left, shakes hands with Prime Minister Han Seong-sook after presenting her with a certificate of appointment at the Blue House on the morning of July 1.JOINT PRESS CORPS
Ko Jung-ae
The author is the editor-in-chief at the JoongAng Sunday.
Former President Roh Moo-hyun, frequently invoked these days for various reasons, repeatedly emphasized presidential appointment power. In August 2006, his fourth year in office, Roh said, “Personnel appointments are the only power left to the president.” Early the next year, rejecting calls to speak less, he said, “Among the important tools a president has are appointments and words.”
Why did Roh talk so much about appointments?
Presidential appointment power has peculiar dynamics. Positions themselves are incentives that generate loyalty. Statistics from 13 years ago counted 8,593 presidentially appointed positions, including 1,947 requiring the president’s direct selection or approval. His indirect influence reportedly extended to 20,000 posts. The numbers are probably no smaller today.
The problem is that appointees easily come to regard their selection as deserved, while the far larger number passed over may regard rejection as unfair. That creates friction within a governing coalition.
There are other dilemmas. Unconventional appointments can boost public approval but carry greater risks. When approval ratings fall, strong candidates become reluctant to join an administration, which can depress ratings further. Thus, later in a presidency, familiar faces tend to reappear and promotions become more common than outside recruitment. Most presidents have followed that course.
President Lee Jae Myung stands out because patterns normally associated with the middle or latter part of a term are already emerging. The talent pool appears confined to particular networks, promotions from vice minister to minister are already conspicuous and loyalty to “our side” seems heavily valued.
Consider a prosecutor’s recent Facebook post titled “You mean that Lee Jeong-hyeon?” criticizing the acting prosecutor general. He sarcastically asked whether this was the same official who, he alleged, was disciplined for failing to write a paper during three years as a research fellow at the Legal Research and Training Institute and later spoke of “atoning to the public” over the Ssangbangwool case, in which millions of won were allegedly transferred illegally to North Korea in 2019 at the request of President Lee Jae Myung when he was mayor of the Gyeonggi city of Seongnam, in exchange for promised support for the company’s future inter-Korean business projects and to help facilitate Lee’s planned visit to Pyongyang.
The post concluded: “Apparently, ability and internal trust are not criteria at all when choosing the ‘representative of prosecutors.’” The cynicism is unmistakable. Soon after becoming acting chief, Lee Jeong-hyeon raised the possibility of withdrawing indictments. Can he exercise leadership within the prosecution?
Nor is this limited to positions related to dropping prosecutions. A vice minister was promoted directly to deputy prime minister for economic affairs, Korea’s top economic policymaking post, an unprecedented move. He is reputed to be capable, but whether he warranted such an immediate promotion is debatable. The land minister, meanwhile, went from a local-government bureau-director-level position to minister in only 18 months.
One longtime political observer told me discontent is growing in the bureaucracy as questionable candidates are elevated. “Look at public opinion in Sejong,” the person said. Sejong, developed as Korea’s de facto second administrative capital, is home to many central government ministries and has an unusually high concentration of civil servants.
Lee’s approval rating in the Chungcheong region, including Sejong, had been above the national average but has since fallen below it. In the first week of September, immediately after the Aug. 30 Cabinet reshuffle, it stood at 35 percent, 5 percentage points below the national average of 40 percent.
Then there is Lee’s clash with Chief Justice Jo Hee-de while emphasizing presidential appointment authority, apparently with a particular Supreme Court justice candidate in mind.
Does choosing loyalists ensure the president’s will is carried out? Consider the turmoil over real estate taxes and a farmland survey, where attempts to implement the Blue House’s wishes without compromise caused problems. In the long run, someone who may deliver less than 100 percent of what the president wants but performs the job properly will help an administration more. In politics, loyalty is a cheap commodity. Lee needs to appoint better people.
The paradox is clear: Appointments can strengthen presidential authority, but poor choices can simultaneously weaken the coalition, bureaucracy and public confidence supporting it.
Back to Roh. He tried to appoint Moon Jae-in, then his senior secretary for civil affairs, as justice minister, provoking open resistance from ruling party leaders. Roh ultimately reaffirmed the president’s appointment authority but also had to promise to listen to the party’s advice and recommendations on personnel matters.
Presidential appointment power has force only when it is used well.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.
