Goldbrick in Seoul

More on Criminal Defense Work

Our office handles criminal defense work from time to time, work which we undertake because (i) there are very few English-speaking lawyers in Seoul willing to take up criminal defense of foreign accused, and (ii) we're actually pretty good at defending foreign criminals. But really, our usual bag is corporate law.

Today our latest criminal-defense client, another hapless American drug user (we think he probably was dealing, too, on an occasional and informal basis), had his original 18-month jail sentence reduced on appeal to a "suspended sentence." This means that he was released by the court after five months of pre-trial and appellate confinement (i.e. "released with time served" as they say in the movies). We were hired Nov. 8, 2003. Our client was set free today pending his immediate deportation from Korea. That's right, four and a half months after hiring us, now the arrested drug user is on his way home to his family.

This is the best result that could ever be hoped for in the Korean system, except that the result was achieved after an appeal which added about two months to our client's confinement (waiting for court hearing dates to open up). We wish it could have been accomplished at the initial trial, but of course, we do not control the decisions of the trial court judge -- and we are not the people who were smoking weed and giving friends hash either. Anyway, we felt bad enough for the client -- who was a pretty nice guy -- that we did his appeal for free, despite the fee agreement and the fact that these criminal-defense cases are money-losers for the firm because of the time involved schlepping back and forth to the jail, and "working the system" to build sympathy for the client who is, after all, guilty.

That's why it's been so disappointing that our client's -- ahem, quite difficult -- older brother has been going around denouncing me and my firm to everyone who will listen. To hear this guy tell it, the initial trial verdict was adverse to Little Brother only through our firm's incompetence (apparently, this guy believes in the Perry Mason standard of wrapping everything up in one hour, with all cases being brilliant victories) and we of course have been quite lazy in not camping out at the jail every day since we were hired in the second week of November. Or, we didn't do enough in making the trial "speedy." What a jerk. Get yourself arrested for drugs in the States, and see how long it takes to get a verdict. By the way, you're welcome, Big Brother.

Attention hopheads: If you spend some time in jail because of your stupid drug habit, it's not our fault, even if we're your lawyers. You're in jail because you did something wrong; the "system" is not out to get you. If you hire lawyers, we will do our best to help you, and probably will improve your situation quite substantially. But it's not wrong that we must be paid to do so.

Want to keep your money away from the "greedy lawyers"? Don't break the damn laws, or at least not the "important" ones. You should be able to figure out what those are. Or, if you're too immature and have too little impulse control to comply with major laws, just don't hire lawyers to defend you.

Best Op-Ed I've Read this Month

Before his mysterious disappearance, a good friend of mine contributed an editorial to the Joongang Ilbo's "Joongang Daily" English supplement to the International Herald Tribune. It's so good, I have ripped it off from the paper's website and reprint here, on the grounds that its author, had he not mysteriously disappeared, would have approved of this use:

Time to Play Hardball, Mr. Roh
By Kent A. Davy
Joongang Daily, Feb. 23, 2004

The recent interview of President Roh Moo-hyun by Chairman Hong Seok-hyun of the JoongAng Ilbo made me think of Bud Selig, and what Mr. Roh and he have in common, or not.

"Who's Bud Selig?" When I first heard the name, I didn't know either. The last time I was paying attention, a former president of Yale University by the name of Bart Giamatti was the commissioner of Major League Baseball. I soon thereafter lost interest in the overly commercialized major leagues in favor of minor league teams out in the boondocks. Then I moved to Korea.

Anyway, I learned recently that Bud Selig has a problem ― a problem similar to one President Roh faces. Selig's problem is Pete Rose.

Mr. Rose was one of the great players of recent times. Not a guy with any physical grace, or even much natural ability, but a guy with so much desire and ball field audacity that he earned the nickname "Charlie Hustle."

Considering the major league records he amassed, he also would have earned himself a spot in the Hall of Fame. But there was a little problem.

Well, not so little really, because Mr. Rose broke the most important rule in baseball. He gambled; he bet on baseball games, games in which he played, games he coached. He placed bets from the dugout phone.

For all that, Mr. Rose was banned from baseball in 1990 and thus from consideration for the Hall of Fame. But he is persistent, and he's been scheming for reinstatement for years, an effort that reached a new public relations crescendo with the recent publication of his autobiography.

Mr. Rose's book is dramatic. In the deal that resulted in his banishment, he did not admit to any of his extensively documented illegal betting on baseball ― and until now he truculently has denied having done so. Now Mr. Rose 'fesses up, sort of.

Pete Rose admits that he gambled on baseball. He's unrepentant, though. He only regrets that his gambling has kept him out of the Hall of Fame.

Like the recent Korean political suicide, Busan's former Mayor Ahn, he feels sorry only for himself. Just as Mr. Ahn's prison diaries disclosed no remorse for his alleged acts of corruption, Mr. Rose is not sorry that he broke one of the fundamental rules of baseball. In fact, he doesn't even comprehend that he's done anything wrong. He justifies his gambling as part of "who he is" ― an inevitable element of the "work hard, play hard" style that enabled him to achieve his records.

The punchline, of course, is that Mr. Rose wants an invitation to Cooperstown; and, as far as he's concerned, his failure to follow ― indeed his contempt for ― the rules, including the most important one of all, is beside the point, something to be shucked off with a perfunctory, phony apology.

Is this familiar? Substitute the names of various Korean business or political figures. Are Mr. Rose's accomplishments analogous to the contributions to Korean progress of some Korean businessmen and politicians? Should their achievements ― which, unlike Rose's, owe infinitely more to the unremitting hard work and carefully accumulated savings of ordinary Koreans than to their own efforts ― justify their systematic corruption of Korea's business life and political processes, and the dangerously corrosive effects of their conduct on Korea's social fabric?

Most importantly, is there any correspondence between Mr. Selig's handling of the Rose matter and Mr. Roh's apparent attitude toward the problem of Korean corruption?

Sadly, there doesn't appear to be. Despite Rose's public relations blitz, Mr. Selig isn't going to reinstate a gambler. He hasn't condemned Mr. Rose again, but he has done so without reservation in the past. Now he's not going to dignify Mr. Rose's impertinence by even commenting.

Contrast President Roh on the Korean kleptocracy. He ran as the self-made lawyer, defender of the underdog, steadfast man of principle and champion of the rule of law.

His status as the ultimate outsider representing the mass of Koreans effectively disenfranchised by Korea's free-floating "political class" and their business bagmen was the guaranty that his would be the administration that redressed the balance between true democratic principle and material force in Korea. He would be the one to finally begin flushing the night soil out of the system that is Korea Inc.

So what's Mr. Roh's reaction to the recent unrelenting parade of revelations about politico-business corruption in Korea?

First, he announces his intention ― to celebrate the anniversary of his inauguration, no less ― to pardon anyone who gets caught with his hand in the cash register ― or is that apple boxes?

Then, in his interview he ratchets up the pressure on the prosecution, of whose independence he so frequently claims to be so jealously protective, by not so subtly directing it to go easy on the business circle.
This is the fragrance of moral hazard in Korea yet again, emanating from the core of the vortex.

Are you the "no hustle" president, or is this the Roh hustle? Are you aiming for the same bleachers of failed presidencies where your predecessors are sitting?

Say it ain't so. Better yet, show us. Your supporters, who thought your election finally would usher in an era of genuinely representative democracy, ordinary Korean working men and women, foreign investors, deserve a president who respects the rule of law.

The stakes are a lot greater than what happens to Pete Rose.

Don't Do the Crime if You Can't Do the Time

Our fake law firm sometimes assists criminal defendants who contact us through the U.S. Embassy's lawyer-referral list, or who get our name from a friend or relative searching for English-speaking counsel. Although we're primarily oriented toward corporate-law services, we find that because Korean corporate law intersects so strongly with criminal law (insert your own joke here), it's good to have opportunities to keep in touch with police and public prosecutors anyway. And besides, we feel like making English-speaking legal service available to foreign criminal defendants is generally a good thing.

We have helped about a dozen criminal defendants in the past two years, and with the exception of one which we took pro bono (the client paid costs, we donated hundreds of hours of services), they have all been guilty. Mostly drug users and drug dealers. Ordinarily we wouldn't represent a dealer, but this guy didn't come clean about the dealing until we had already accepted the case.

One of the really frustrating things about representing these people is that most of them are really nice, normal people who simply have a taste for mind-altering chemicals. Most of them are young, usually English teachers. But sometimes we get people who are married, or have children depending on them. Once we had an evangelist smoking hasish out of a crumpled-up Coke can in an alley, if you can believe that.

For all of them, paying attorneys' fees was a significant burden -- because except for the drug dealer, none of them budgeted for the possibility of getting picked up by the police and facing a jail term. But make no mistake, a drug conviction in Korea is very likely to end up in a jail term. We've mostly had good success with our clients (most of our possession clients end up being deported after about three months in jail pending trial), but some of them have gotten long sentences. Our most recent recent possession-and-distribution case ended up with 18 months' imprisonment. For smoking weed, and passing on a couple joints to a friend! Contacts in the U.S. Embassy have reported to us that 18 months is a not-atypical sentence for simple drug possession cases. (Contrast that with the drug dealer, who we recently got deported to the States after four months' imprisonment.)

Defendants, even the guilty ones, even the ones who have confessed, always (always!) do better in the justice system if they have counsel. The drug dealer, for example, was originally sentenced to five years but we got that sentence reduced on appeal, by noting some deficiencies in the proof of aggravating circumstances. The hash-smoking evangelist got released after three months, with a W3000 fine (US$2.50). The Korean court will appoint a public defender, but you really don't want to depend on the English proficiency and free time of the public defender. But if you're going to hire private counsel, it's going to cost you. Big time. Because there is a lot of work involved in getting to know the client, the back story, and selling the idea of leniency to the court. Even though we discount our usual fees for individual criminal defendants, you'll still be out $10,000 or more depending on the nature of the crime.

Don't do drugs. If you do them, don't come to Korea and do drugs here. Wait until you're back in Canada, or the Netherlands, San Francisco, Seattle, or wherever it is that trained you to think there are no consequences to violating drug laws. Combating drugs is a big deal to the Korean government, and picking on relatively defenseless and isolated potsmoking teachers is a lot easier than catching violent criminals. We understand that college campuses, dance clubs and gay bathhouses (not that there's anything wrong with that) are full of hip Korean people who are carefree about their drug use, but don't let that lull you into a false sense of security. For most of our criminal clients, $10,000 is about all they could save in a year of cup ramyeon lunches. And although we'll try like hell to keep you out of jail, it's possible that the effort will be for nought. Don't throw away your future over a momentary high.

UPDATE: One other tip -- if you cannot refrain from the wacky weed, never share yours with anyone else. Never, never. Never. NEVER. The Korean Criminal Code's article on "distribution" of drugs basically lumps passing the dutchie in with being "Scarface" Tony Montana; if you share your drugs with another person, you are really in a lot of trouble. More than just a tad, and the minimum sentence is five years in prison.

ONE MORE THING: If you hire a lawyer -- even for what seems like a lot of money to you -- and still end up in jail, that doesn't mean your lawyer is a sonofabitch who didn't try hard for you. Ultimately, paying the attorney's fee doesn't "purchase" freedom. It purchases the time of someone who will try his damndest to reduce your suffering.

Another Reason Why John Edwards Got My Check

Boston Globe columnist Howie Carr describes the real John Kerry.

Korea Negotiates New SOFA

Back from a spell of being super-busy (all in all, a good thing), I find that Korea has negotiated another Status of Forces Agreement -- with Korea! North Korea, that is... The Korea Times reports that an accord has been reached between North and South to give extraterritorial rights to South Koreans visiting the North. What does this mean?

"This means in principle South Koreans will not undergo a trial in a North Korean court for violations of laws there," Vice Unification Minister Cho Kun-shik said.

Insert your own snide comment here.

FSS Out to Stop Foreign Banks' Back-Office "Offshoring"

Further cementing my credentials as a narrow, navel-gaving observer, today I noted more "Blame Foreigners" nonsense emanating from the bowels of the financial establishment. This time, it's the Financial Supervisory Service (FSS), which plans to scrutinize the overseas back-office operations of foreign banks' Seoul branches. The agency plans to crack down on "unfair business practices," including so-called "personal information leaks."

I think FSS's real concern is maintaining redundant, inefficient data-processing operations here in Seoul instead of moving these functions to a centralized location where economies of scale can be achieved (and without balky Korean bank-employee unions). In principle moving the back-office sounds like a really good idea. I'd bet money that this FSS move is intended to bat down some back channel inquiry from one of the foreign-controlled Korean banks. If so, these foreign banks are really a warning shot across the bow of one of those foreign shareholders. You've been warned, Lone Star!

Many of the 41 foreign banks here have been criticized for relocating their information networks overseas due to high costs and language problems in Seoul, the Financial Supervisory Service (FSS) said on Wednesday.

Among them are Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corp. (HSBC), Citibank, Bank of America, J.P. Morgan Chase Bank, Standard Chartered Bank, BNP Paribas Bank and ABN Amro.

[...]

"Banks which leaked customer information from Seoul to their parent units will face severe sanctions," an FSS official warned.

[...]

Last year, a foreign bank in Seoul transferred its computer network for 150,000 online customers to Singapore, where the bank's Asian network system is located.

What's amusing about this development is I think the foreign banks could be in the wrong, at least as far as the relevant Korean law is concerned. Although anyone who knows this place would predict that FSS will inevitably order the banks to stop the transfer of back-office operations outside Korea, this time it appears this demand will be backed by a reasonable interpretation of laws. Still, as I will describe below, I think the target is mistaken.

Generally speaking, there is no legal prohibition on cross-border movement of personal identifying information and customer data &emdash; for any industry other than the financial industry. But financial data is regulated by a specific statute called the "Credit Information Protection Act" or CIPA (sometimes also translated as the Act on Protection and Use, etc. of Credit Information, but I like the former better). Under CIPA, it is a crime for a bank or other financial institution (credit-card company, insurance company, securities-investment house, etc.) to disclose "credit information" to a "third party" without the express written consent of the person about whom the information relates.

FSS has consistently taken a very hawkish view about this consent: it has to be a separate written statement (with signature!) naming the recipient by name along with the purpose of the disclosure. For example, according to FSS it would not be enough for a mutual-fund company's service agreement to contain a boilerplate statement "I understand and consent to disclosure of my name and address to selected marketing partners." Instead, the mutual-fund company must collect a consent which says "I understand and consent to disclosure of my name and address to ABC Company for its use in direct-marketing record club solicitation." And it would have to get a new consent each time it wanted to disclose to a new partner. Fantastic.

But back-office outsourcing seems to be subject to an exception. In one of its articles, CIPA makes an oblique reference to a "data-entrustment company" which can process data on behalf of a financial institution -- as a subcontractor, if you will. The only qualifications to be a data-entrustment company are (i) organization as a chusik hoesa joint stock company under the Korean Commercial Code; and (ii) paid-in capital of at least W100,000,000. That's all that's said about this important concept.

The legal principle is pretty simple: agency. If one is under contract to do something for the principal, one is not a "third party" in the eyes of the law. To oversimplify, the subcontractor is basically in the same position as an employee of the principal, and therefore acts of the subcontractor can be said to be acts of the principal itself. Thus, if Foreign Bank contracts out its data-processing work to XYZ Company, provided XYZ Company meets the qualifications as a "data-entrustment company" under CIPA, then no crime has been committed.

Herein lies the rub, possibly. From my outsider's perspective, I would guess that FSS intends to argue that no matter what the contractual basis for the back-office outsourcing (i.e. even if the banks documented strict privacy regulations in their back-office outsourcing agreements), no foreign company is organized as a chusik hoesa joint stock company under the Korean Commercial Code. That's a description which can only be applied to a Korean corporation. Therefore, if this is the point the regulator intends to rely upon, financial data processing can only be outsourced to Korean corporations and not "offshored" to Southeast Asia or India.

On the counterpoint, unless I am mistaken, this interpretation would be wrong. The Korean presences of foreign banks are all in the form of branch offices with no limitation of liability as between the Korean office and head office. Under the Commercial Code, a branch office is an extension into the Republic of Korea of a foreign corporation. The Korean branch and the parent corporation are in fact one and the same legal entity. So then how can it be said that there is any "third-party" disclosure of customer information? In this regard, I think the foreign banks' branch offices have a leg up on the foreign-owned Korean banks when it comes to "offshoring" back-office operations. Current law might allow a branch to transfer credit information to the head office, while a foreign-owned Korean bank -- say, Korea First Bank -- would be barred from doing so.

[DISCLAIMER: Our office does no work for any Korean or foreign bank in respect of the foregoing issues. So while I believe I have correctly outlined the relevant law, this has not been exhaustively researched as would be the case if, say, one of those banks did hire us.]

More on Foreigners Applying for Credit Cards

Still think the Korean banks' refusal to issue credit cards to foreigners isn't based on racism, pure and simple? I went back and re-read a link I posted yesterday and noticed that two leading card issuers were giving cards to corpses and incarcerated felons rather than to ostensibly high-earning resident foreign lawyers. Fantastic.

BOK on Foreign Investment: Talking Out of Both Sides

On the 21st of December the Bank of Korea floated a report which included the policy recommendation that more foreign investment in Korea's financial sector is undesirable. Those of us in the foreign-investment industry, or indeed anyone working in business, have already noted the slowdown in the Korean economy that has coincided with the steep drop-off in foreign investment that's already manifested itself -- before this latest surprise opinion from the Bank of Korea. We don't need more of this kind of help.

First-half foreign investment in 2003 was down 44% from 2002's first-half investment levels. It should be interesting to see how the second-half numbers turn out -- the third-quarter's early returns were not so good, down 38% from 3Q 2002. The government's goal of US$6 billion for the year is not very ambitious, either; the last time foreign investment was less than US$6 billion was 1996.

So why is foreign investment in the financial sector "undesirable"? On the 21st of December, this was the story (from the Korea Times):

The central bank offered a set of recommendations based on its findings that foreign-owned banks are not contributing to domestic financial market stability or advancement.

It said local banks controlled by outside investors are seeking quick return on investments by lending to households, instead of extending loans to businesses.

It said that Korea First Bank, Korea Exchange Bank and Koram Bank, which are classified as foreign controlled, have cut corporate loans from 82.9 percent of total money lent in 1998 to 49.6 percent. At the same time, they have increased household lending from 10.4 percent to 45.6 percent.

You read it right: By diversifying loan portfolios away from the insolvent chaebol-borrower sector and offering households credit for the first time in Korean history -- money which has been used to start thousands of small businesses which traditionally have been starved of capital (yes, some of it has been frittered away on speculative activities too) -- these foreign-controlled banks are "not contributing to domestic financial market stability or advancement."

What does contribute to financial market stability or advancement? you ask... Well, according to today's Korea Times, apparently it means throwing more of your depositors' money down the bankrupt LG Card toilet. Three foreign banks (Korea Exchange Bank, Korea First Bank, and KorAm Bank) are balking at participating in a bailout:

But Korean regulators are at a loss about what to do as there is little possibility that the largest shareholders of the three banks, who are foreign-based, will approve the participation.

"Though the FSS twisted the arms of several domestic banks to rescue LG Card out of its cash flow problems last month, it is not easy to persuade foreign shareholders," a Seoul economist said.

Now we can understand why Korean financial officials say more foreign investment is undesirable. Foreign invested banks don't follow orders like the Korean banks do. Of the eight major creditor banks, five -- all the non foreign-invested banks -- have lined up to bail out LG Card with further credit, despite the amazing creativity and efficiency that LG Card has shown at destroying previous funds given to it. But the foreign-invested banks don't see what the benefit might be to their shareholders, especially given the fact that LG Card is highly unlikely to repay existing loans in full.

Interestingly, the very next day after Bank of Korea said foreign investors' disinterest in the command economy was bumming it out, on the 22d of December the central bank (apparently some other part) decried how old practices are holding back the Korean economy:

In its latest report, the BOK stressed the need for the government to shift the focus of economic policy from expansion-centered to innovation-based strategy.

The central bank pointed out that Korea has failed to narrow the income gap with industrialized nations over the last decade delaying Korea's entry into the group of advanced nations.

"Although Korea possesses the potential to become an advanced economy, the outdated growth strategy, systems inefficiencies and bad practices have caused development paralysis," BOK economist Ha Joon-kyung said.

Earth to Bank of Korea: Nonsensical bailouts of bankrupt "zombie companies" under duress from the government are the very definition of "outdated growth strategy, systems inefficiencies, and bad practices." You want Korea to stop being held back? Stop holding us back!

Note: I like linking to the Korea Times newspaper rather than to Korean-language dailies or the other English paper, the Korea Herald. Not so much because the Times is a good paper or anything, but because its links seem to be "permanent", it doesn't require registration or a password to access, and since the readers of this blog are ostensibly English-speakers, perhaps more accessible to the layman.

Law Abiding Country, Redux

Jeff Harrison has a fantastic roundup of the last three days' headlines at his not-yet-award-winning blog Ruminations in Korea. But I am obliged to note that Jeff has used without my permission a phrase for which I have just obtained a trademark from the Korea Intellectual Property Office: Korea is a Law-Abiding Country™.

He'll be hearing from my lawyers.

More SOFA Grumblings

I saw something in the paper today about SOFA and it's provoked my first mini-fisking.

US Soldier Gets 18 Months for DUI
By Byun Duk-Kun, Staff Reporter
Korea Times, Dec. 19, 2003

A U.S. serviceman stationed in Tongduchon, northern Kyonggi Province, was found guilty on Friday of hitting a South Korean pedestrian while driving under the influence (DUI).

The Seoul District Court sentenced the 27-year-old U.S. soldier, only identified by his initial S, to one and a half years in prison for the offense, which took place in northern Kyonggi Province last August.

A sentence of 18 months' incarceration for drunk driving which results in striking a pedestrian does not sound outrageous, provided the pedestrian is injured. No need to quibble with the sentence yet. And I appreciate that the court and the Korea Times afforded soldier "S" the same privacy rights to which Korean citizens are entitled under this country's laws. So far, so good.

But inevitably, here comes the inevitable unfair-SOFA argument:

The court, however, failed to arrest the U.S. soldier because the Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA) does not allow South Korean courts to arrest U.S. forces personnel until the suspect’s appeal process runs its course completely.

"Although it is customary to detain (the convicted individual) once the court’s decision is made, even at the end of the first trial, the SOFA says we cannot make an arrest in a simple hit-and-run case until the sentencing is final unless the case involves death of a victim," the court said.

It is indeed customary for a Korean trial court to remand Korean civilians into custody immediately upon pronouncement of a sentence. However, the SOFA, which is a treaty obligation and thus the law of Korea, allows the U.S. military to maintain custody over accused members pending final resolution of a case. Where an appeal may be expected (i.e. the time to file has not passed), the judgment is not final. Thus, the law of Korea says the SOFA member remains in U.S. custody until the judgment is final. I wonder how it can be said to be "customary" that this individual would be jailed after the sentence is passed?

Now it gets stupid. Since I wasn't in the court, I cannot be certain that the following statements were actually uttered by the judge, or embellished later by the reporter.

The court also expressed concern over the negative effects the SOFA may have on the nation’s judicial system.

"To the court’s regret, such an agreement may infringe upon the nation’s jurisdiction as well as Koreans’ right to equality. However, it is not so serious as to be unconstitutional," the court said.

It's not unconstitutional, nor is it an "infringement on the nation's jurisdiction," you jerk. You are trying this criminal in your own court! That means you have jurisdiction. And the custody procedures are the law of Korea, agreed by treaty.

The U.S. soldier hit the 35-year-old South Korean woman while driving drunk, leaving her with an injury that required eight weeks of medical treatment.

Oops! This one would not be obvious to anyone who hasn't already had a run-in with the Korean criminal-justice or medical systems, which promote malingering of a sort that may be oddly familiar to Americans familiar with the U.S. personal-injury "industry." When a claim of any sort may be expected, but especially when criminal charges are involved, Korean people rush to a medical clinic for "treatment" -- a doctor examines the patient and issues a certificate called jindanseo, or Statement of Diagnosis.

Korean doctors are awfully generous with issuing the jindanseo and more often than not, a sympathetic doctor can be located when a patient "needs" a record documenting serious injury. When two idiots get into a scuffle (I have personal experience with this), and the police become involved, the party who is more seriously injured according to the length of "treatment" prescribed by the jindanseo is deemed the victim and winner in the criminal proceeding which follows. It matters not who started the fight, what matters is whose jindanseo says how many weeks of treatment.

It's like the whiplash malingerers after an automobile accident in the States. Ohhhhhhh... It huuuurtssss....

In my own personal experience, a Korean person with a bruised shin can get a jindanseo saying he needs four weeks of "treatment." A foreigner with a stress fracture of his index finger (yes, it still hurts) can get a jindanseo which says either two weeks or six weeks "if you need it to say that." From another experience slipping on some ice in January 2001 with no one at fault but me, I learned that a broken elbow gets you sixteen weeks' "treatment." In all these cases, no further treatment or visits are actually necessary -- the weeks refer mostly to the length of time one might feel the after-effects of the injury. (In the case of the broken elbow, the cast was on for 16 weeks but actually, it still hurts three years later.)

So to my admittedly jaundiced eye, an injury which produced a jindanseo diagnosing eight weeks' treatment was probably not at all serious as we Westerners would consider the term "serious injury." Eight weeks is too short for a broken bone -- at most the victim was likely to have been knocked down and frightened quite a bit. Which is scary, and punishable if the driver was drunk, but not too big a deal. Certainly some contusions, maybe a concussion ensued, and possibly some lacerations from hitting the ground. But no permanent or long-lasting injury would be likely to get only an eight-weeks' evaluation. Especially in a case where the victim shows up at the hospital in Tongduchon saying "An American soldier ran me down!" If anything, the eight weeks' diagnosis is much more likely to overstate the extent of the actual injury.

A blood-alcohol level test showed that he had 0.108 percent alcohol in his blood while the allowable limit for DUI is 0.05 percent. The suspect, however, has been denying the charges in the case.

"We sentenced the defendant to actual imprisonment because the defendant showed no signs of remorse. He has continued to deny his crime and no compensation has been offered for the victim," the court said in its ruling.

I think soldier "S" got some bad advice from his barracks lawyers. Unlike the United States, where a suspect has a right to deny everything and generally it won't be held against him, in the Korean justice system it definitely behooves a guilty party to confess his guilt. In a sense, Korean justice adopts a Christian morality: the truth shall set you free, and repentance is the first step toward salvation. Definitely, a criminal suspect who denies culpability in the face of objective evidence of guilt (i.e. eyewitness testimony, DNA evidence, fingerprints, or blood-alcohol level testing) is asking for the hammer.

To the contrary, in Korea someone who shows sincere remorse and who buys off the victim with a consolation payment may escape punishment altogether (if settled before indictment). Soldier "S" probably got some advice like Don't say anything that can be used against you! or If you settle you're admitting guilt! or some other stupid, self-defeating thing that would be appropriate if we were in the United States, but which is completely inappropriate and weird in Korea.

But I'd bet this dude "S" was also pretty angry that the prosecutors were (rudely and insultingly, as is their wont) insisting he had caused some serious injury to someone who he'd just knocked over, or maybe just bumped. Shouldn't have been driving around loaded, then you wouldn't be in this mess now, would you?

Such a ruling is viewed as a preview of future trials involving U.S. military personnel.

A 33-year-old U.S. soldier stationed in Osan, southern Kyonggi Province, is also awaiting a trial as a suspect in a hit-and-run case.

Sgt. Jerry Onken allegedly hit a South Korean female, identified by her surname Ki, while driving under the influence in Osan and then fleeing the scene. On Dec. 6, the Justice Ministry requested the U.S. Forces Korea (USFK) hand over the U.S. suspect for a trial in South Korean court.

Onken will immediately be placed under court detention if he is found guilty of his crime because the victim died shortly after the accident took place. She was left at the scene while the U.S. suspect fled.

Good luck to you, buddy. You're probably guilty, but you're certainly screwed. So now it's your turn in the barrel, Sgt. Onken.