The two-day North Korea–Japan summit came to a successful close.
[Behind the scenes of the North Korea–Japan summit.
Prime Minister Koizumi arrived at the airport this morning aboard a government aircraft. On the North Korean side, Chairman of the Supreme People’s Assembly Kim Youngnam came out to receive him.
Numerous reporters were waiting, but there was no cheering crowd or military band.
With a stiff expression, Prime Minister Koizumi exchanged a brief conversation with Chairman Kim Youngnam beneath the aircraft stairs before boarding a limousine bound for the Daedonggang State Guesthouse, the venue of the talks.
(omitted)
Approximately 150,000 ethnic Koreans residing in Japan are closely watching today’s summit with both anticipation and concern.
With reports that the issue of Japanese citizens abducted by North Korea would be addressed at the summit, Japan was in a restless mood.
Prime Minister Koizumi’s remark that the abduction issue is an unavoidable wall that must be overcome for normalization of diplomatic ties—and that there would be no establishment of relations without resolution—has become a major topic of discussion.]
[Chairman Jang Songthaek acknowledges and apologizes for the abduction of Japanese citizens.
At the North Korea–Japan summit, Chairman Jang Songthaek of the State Affairs Commission admitted to the abduction of fourteen individuals.
The Japanese government had claimed seventeen people were abducted in twelve separate cases, but Chairman Jang acknowledged fourteen abductions.
Chairman Jang admitted that special agencies of the Republic, in collusion with pro–Chongryon operatives, had abducted fourteen Japanese citizens and conveyed his apology to Prime Minister Koizumi.
Of the eight already deceased, the remains of six have been identified and will be returned.
Of the six survivors, five expressed their intention to return home, and the Japanese government has taken custody of them.]
[North Korea–Japan summit: A half-success.]
[Emotional reunions and frustration for abductee families.]
[North Korean and Japanese governments reach dramatic agreement on claims settlement. But no formal apology.]
[Handshake between the two leaders. Major progress in normalization talks.]
[North Korea and Japan pledge continued economic cooperation.]
All Korean media outlets covered the summit extensively.
KBC broadcast the summit results live, while other stations suspended regular programming to focus entirely on the talks.
I turned off the television with a faint smile.
“In the end, everything went exactly as planned.”
Lee Myungsoo, who had been watching the news with me, replied dryly.
“It’s just a show after all the negotiations were already finished. And that’s not what matters to us anyway.”
He was right. What mattered wasn’t what had already concluded—but what would unfold next.
China was putting the brakes not only on companies connected to me, but on other firms as well.
“What did the Chinese ambassador say?”
“The same thing over and over. They claim they know nothing about it and are demanding the repatriation of their nationals.”
The Chinese government had issued no official administrative order.
Doing so would risk triggering a dispute under WTO regulations, so the sanctions were being carried out unofficially.
“You told them repatriation is absolutely off the table, right?”
“Of course. Now it’s a matter of national pride.”
Public opinion wasn’t bad.
President Yoon Changho’s hardline stance toward China was boosting his approval ratings.
But on the other hand, I’d received reports that dissatisfaction among major conglomerates toward the government had reached a peak.
“I heard the chaebols are furious about government policy?”
Myungsoo snorted.
“Don’t even get me started. Their government relations teams have practically worn down the steps of the National Assembly.”
“How is the government responding?”
He shrugged as if there were no good options.
“They’re preparing to file a complaint with the WTO. They’re also trying to negotiate through the ambassador in Beijing, but it’s hard to even get meetings with high-level officials.”
“Really? Filing with the WTO is a bit tricky, isn’t it?”
“They have to do something. They can’t just rely on you. Even inside the Blue House and the ruling party, there’s pushback over this situation. It’s only because President Yoon Changho’s will is so strong that the resistance is being suppressed. If this drags on, it’ll explode eventually.”
Concern seeped into Myungsoo’s voice.
Yoon Changho was furious over the spy scandal.
It had been revealed that several senior secretaries—including a chief secretary—had leaked information to China.
He could no longer back down.
“The seeds I’ve planted are about to move all at once. Just wait.”
By now used to my tone, Myungsoo simply nodded and checked his watch.
“We should get going. It’s almost time.”
We arrived at the meeting place.
“Well, well, Minister Shin! Long time no see.”
Myungsoo greeted the man with exaggerated cheer.
“Secretary-General, didn’t we just meet at the party–government meeting a few days ago?”
Minister of Information and Communication Shin Daeseong replied as if that were obvious. Myungsoo put on a wounded expression.
“That’s the same thing? I’m hurt.”
“Ha ha...”
At Myungsoo’s banter, Shin Daeseong gave an awkward laugh before turning his gaze to me.
Noticing the look, Myungsoo dropped the playful tone and draped an arm over my shoulder.
“You know who this is, right?”
Shin Daeseong nodded and extended his hand.
“I’m Shin Daeseong. President Kim Muhyuk.” fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
“Pleasure to meet you, Minister Shin.”
After we shook hands, we sat facing each other.
Shin Daeseong cleared his throat repeatedly, visibly uncomfortable.
To ease the tension, Myungsoo spoke first.
“I heard you used to work at Ilseong Electronics, Minister?”
“That was a long time ago.”
Shin Daeseong had spent many years at Ilseong Electronics.
“So, what brings us together today?”
“Oh, not me. My friend here has something to discuss.”
Shin turned his attention to me. I smiled easily.
“I’m planning to introduce the iPhone to Korea, but there are a number of obstacles. I was hoping we could review some of the relevant regulations.”
“The iPhone... I’ve been quite interested in that device myself.”
“Would you like to see it?”
Given his industry background, he seemed genuinely curious.
I took out the iPhone and handed it to him.
“So this is the iPhone.”
He examined it with keen interest.
He powered it on /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ and explored the interface.
“The response speed is impressive. No physical keyboard at all...”
Like the engineer he once was, he evaluated it meticulously.
“It’s clearly a device several years ahead of its time. Domestic manufacturers can’t match this yet.”
After a long inspection, he set it down. His face hardened.
“You said you plan to introduce the iPhone domestically?”
“Yes. We’re already negotiating with Korea Telecom for exclusive distribution. We’re considering a simultaneous launch in the United States and Korea.”
“Exclusive?”
“Yes. Apple’s policy is to sign exclusive contracts with a single carrier in each country. That applies worldwide, including the United States.”
Shin frowned.
“The carriers won’t take that lightly.”
“If that’s Apple’s policy, what can we do? It’s not as if domestic carriers have never had exclusive handset arrangements before. But that’s not the biggest issue, is it?”
“WIPI.”
He answered immediately. I nodded.
“Apple had no intention of entering the Korean market because of WIPI. So I’d like to see WIPI repealed and certain regulations relaxed.”
“...That’s difficult. Easing regulations for a single company could spark controversy over special treatment.”
WIPI made it even harder for foreign handsets to enter Korea, and its fragmented development environments were already drawing criticism from developers.
The platform would disappear eventually anyway. I was simply accelerating the inevitable.
“It’s not difficult. And WIPI isn’t good policy for Korea either. You know that.”
“....”
“Wasn’t it standardized by the government because of fights between carriers? With WIPI, Korea will become known as a graveyard for foreign handsets. It will accelerate technological isolation and weaken global competitiveness. It’s better to withdraw before it becomes fully mandatory.”
“I agree with that in principle. But there are domestic circumstances. Unchecked competition—”
I cut him off.
“This wasn’t your initiative, was it?”
“...No. I believe the private sector should lead.”
“Then let the private sector lead. The iPhone will dominate the smartphone market for a while, but eventually domestic firms will catch up. Ilseong Electronics is already developing its own OS.”
“I’ve received that report. But development could take years.”
“And if we do nothing? You know exactly what will happen. If you’re worried about backlash from the carriers, don’t.”
Though from a bureaucratic background, Shin wasn’t a politician.
President Yoon Changho had appointed him purely for competence.
His political instincts were lacking, but his expertise was unmatched.
Yet his policies were repeatedly blocked by other bureaucrats.
“I’ll handle pressure from above and below. The President has already agreed. The Secretary-General here will mobilize the party to pass the necessary legislation quickly.”
Myungsoo smoothly backed me up.
“Minister, the party will fully support you. If the Ministry pushes for WIPI abolition, we’ll stand behind it immediately. Take the lead this time. We’ll also pass the bills you’ve been trying to advance.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes. I give you my word.”
Given how his policies had been stalled repeatedly, it was an enticing offer.
I smiled.
“Even if you refuse, someone else will do it. This is an opportunity for you. I’ll set the stage however you want.”
The reason I was discussing something already decided with President Yoon Changho was because the President wanted it handled this way.
“....”
Shin fell silent, deep in thought.
Myungsoo and I exchanged glances and shrugged.
Then the door burst open.
Chief Ma stood there, his face rigid.
For him to barge in without regard for others’ eyes—
Something serious had happened.
“...Boss. I have something to report.”
His low voice and grave expression told me immediately.
“I’ll excuse myself. Please coordinate with the Secretary-General and proceed. We can’t wait long. The contract with Korea Telecom will be signed after WIPI repeal is announced.”
I rose from my seat. Before leaving, I lightly tapped Myungsoo’s shoulder, sending him a look.
He nodded in understanding.
I hurried out.
“What is it, Chief?”
“Yoo Seongjin and Kim Hyunjung have been arrested by Chinese public security authorities.”
“What?”
Yoo Seongjin and Kim Hyunjung were the heads of the joint venture established with Hu Jintao.
Yoo was leading the multiplex business in China, and Kim Hyunjung was overseeing entertainment operations.
“Let’s talk outside.”
We quickened our pace and got into the car.
“Head to Pyeongchang-dong.”
The car sped down the road.
“What happened?”
It was a joint venture tied directly to Hu Jintao. No matter how reckless Jiang Zemin might be, he wouldn’t shake a company linked to Hu—would he?
“Public security suddenly conducted a search and seizure. They arrested both of them during the process.”
“On what charges?”
“We haven’t received that information yet.”
“Find out. Immediately. They must not be harmed.”
These lunatics—how far are they willing to go?
“What is President Hu Jintao doing? And who authorized this?”
“If public security moved, it was likely initiated by the Political and Legal Affairs Commission. But we don’t have confirmation yet.”
“Damn it. Activate every intelligence channel we have. Use every connection. I want to know exactly what happened.”
If more time passed, extracting them would become harder.
“Contact President Hu Jintao however you can.”
Because it involved Hu, I’d been complacent.
Or had Hu completely lost the power struggle against Jiang Zemin?
“Mobilize every information network we can access. Use every personal connection. Find out what happened immediately.”
Before more time slipped away, we had to get those two out—no matter what.