[Choice Times=Se-Hyung Kim, Veteran Journalist]

A camera journalist with excellent skill in capturing mobile phone screens inside the National Assembly has scored a big one.

The Democratic Party packaged the first anniversary of martial law as a “Revolution of Light” and even mentioned the Nobel Peace Prize, while vowing to crush the court that released Choo Kyung-ho with three judicial reform bills. President Lee Jae-myung jumped in to support them, inflating the balloon even higher—only for a sharp needle to burst it.

Kim Nam-kook, once expelled from the National Assembly for being caught trading cryptocurrency during sessions, did it again—sending messages during a plenary session. Old habits die hard.

The content? Democratic Party deputy floor leader Moon Jin-seok asked Kim Nam-kook to recommend a fellow Chung-Ang University alumnus, Hong ○○, a former director at the Korea Automobile Manufacturers Association (KAMA), for the next chairman position. Kim replied, “I’ll recommend him to brother Hoon-sik and Sister Hyun-ji.”
A press photographer caught the message on Moon’s phone.

The chairman of the Korea Automobile Manufacturers Association is a plum position with an annual salary of around 300 million won (about $220,000). If one can secure such a position with a single text message, that is quite an impressive level of influence.

Originally, the chairmanship was supposed to go to seasoned executives from major auto companies. Over time, however, it became a parachute post for Ministry of Industry bureaucrats.

This time, in an attempt to secure the seat, an SOS was sent to Presidential Chief of Staff Kang Hoon-sik and First Executive Office Director Kim Hyun-ji. They nearly succeeded—until an inconvenient photojournalist caught them.

The correct answer is simple: return association chairmanships to the auto industry itself. All the more so when this administration loves attaching the adjective “righteous” to every policy statement.

Under the presidential system, the Presidential Personnel Committee effectively controls major appointments—including heads of public institutions and even the presidents of KBS and MBC. The committee is chaired by the Chief of Staff. Kim Hyun-ji, the First Executive Office Director, technically holds no formal authority in personnel matters.

Kim Nam-kook, as the Secretary for Digital Communications, was not in a position to handle Moon’s request in the first place.

If they wanted to make a legitimate recommendation, they should have submitted it to the Personnel Committee. Yet the exchange included the message: “Hoon-sik will oppose my recommendation, so you ask instead.”
This revealed the existence of an informal Chung-Ang University alumni bypass channel.

Inevitably, newspaper editorials began saying things like, “So this is how the presidential office actually operates” and “Kim Hyun-ji is the true power center.”
Concerned that approval ratings might dip, they apparently decided to cut off the tail quickly.

Thus, Kim Nam-kook submitted his resignation, and President Lee immediately accepted it.

Case closed with Kim Nam-kook’s resignation—allowing them to say, “See? We are righteous.”
One might call it the handiwork of Orwell’s Ministry of Truth.

But anyone thinking even slightly will conclude that the presidential office has likely been operating in this manner for some time.
Kim Nam-kook merely exposed the pattern.
So who is truly at fault—the whistleblower or the powerful insiders who handled matters improperly and tainted the president’s dignity?

If your IQ is around 105, what would you conclude?
A normal person would say the blame lies with those who mishandled things behind the president’s back, undermining his authority—not the one who revealed it.

If true righteousness matters, shouldn’t Kim Nam-kook be rewarded, and shouldn’t “Brother Hoon-sik” and “Sister Hyun-ji” be the ones submitting their resignations?

For reference, an IQ of 105 is about average for Koreans.

#KoreanPolitics #PowerDynamics #PoliticalScandal