Life of Korean gangsters: From reel to real
By Bruce Dawson
Korea Herald
August 9, 2002Slashing a nightclub owner across the back with a sashimi knife for failing to pay his protection money was Shin Young-bo's first test of loyalty to his "jopok," or gangster faction. He was 16 years old, hated school and wanted a different life. Ironically, the day before, his older brother had proudly entered the police academy.
Both would achieve positions of power in their respective careers, with Shin spending his golden years in semi-retirement at his own bar, while his brother made it to vice chief of police of a university district neighborhood before retiring on a full pension.
Like the two brothers, gangsters and the police, seemingly opposing forces, coexist in Korea, but police are increasingly cracking down on the godfathers and their disciples. As gangsters become ever more visible in society - identified by cropped hair, gold chains, black suits, and if they have been to prison, a tattoo proving their loyalty to their boss - they are easy targets for police sweeps. For the 11-month period prior to December last year, prosecutors investigated a total of 1,786 people on charges related to organized crime and arrested 1,073.
Gangsters outside of Seoul were primarily based in the port city of Busan as well as the Jeolla and Chungcheong provinces, but the last two decades have seen a growing migration to the capital city. "There are at least 100 gangs in Seoul alone," said Shin, who traveled to Seoul from his hometown of Mokpo, Jeolla Province, a reputed gangster stronghold.
"I wanted adventure," Shin says. "But all my parents cared about was what university I could get into. I knew I would never be successful in normal society, but I wanted to be accepted. I was a good fighter, like a lot of kids in those days, and I just fell into it. Our gangs formed to help each other out, to watch the other guy's back and know someone's got your back too."
Gangs, however, have changed in recent years. "It's about money and flashy cars, nightclubs, whiskey and women. Gangs are smaller in size compared to the past but more vicious. They attack from behind and do sneak attacks more frequently, for almost any reason," Shin says. A Korean Webzine recently reported that five burly men burst into an Internet cafe and administered a beating to a game player who "killed" a gangster's online character.
Others contend that gangsters are the ultimate nationalists, fighting a corrupt government in the name of the oppressed, the downtrodden or those who have fallen through society's cracks. Five days from today is the one-year anniversary of a surprise finger amputation protest by 23 flag-draped gangsters under Chungcheong Province boss Cho Il-hwan in protest of the Japanese prime minister's controversial visit to Yasukuni Shrine.
To Bundang city boss and room salon proprietor known as Lee, loyalty is paramount. "A gangster's devotion must be absolute," he says. "You prove this loyalty by spilling blood, both your own and your enemy's."
Korea's gangster history can be divided into four periods. In the Japanese colonial era, they considered themselves men of chivalry, honor and morality. They lived among the oppressed and identified with the sorrows and frustrations of the period. Their code dictated the use of fists, and only fists, to settle battles. Knives, steel pipes and surprise attacks came much later.
The second period came after liberation from Japanese rule. In the ensuing social confusion, gangsters gained great power, playing the role of hired enforcers for bosses-cum-politicians. Food and money were scarce, and those who were both quick-witted and quick-fisted ruled the day.
One of the better-known figures was Lee Jung-jae, boss of Seoul's Dongdaemun faction. Lee had enormous ambition combined with massive strength - he was a former "ssireum" (Korean wrestling) champion - and managed to muscle his way into the pocket of the No. 2 man in the Liberal Party, Lee Ki-bung. The duo's rise to power was dramatically cut short by the May 16 military coup, which resulted in death sentences for most prominent gangsters, later commuted to life in prison.
The period of military dictatorship marks the third chapter in Korean gangster history. As economic development progressed, gangsters carved out new niches in society. Seoul's underground world of organized crime was dominated by three factions from the Jeolla provinces, a presence that would last decades, while certain Busan factions worked in cahoots with the Japanese yakuza to form an international mafia. But as competition intensified, the age of majestic fistfights came to an end - razor-sharp knives, baseball bats and surprise attacks, ruthlessly efficient and more terrifying enforcement methods, became the norm.
Perhaps tellingly, the murder rate has nearly doubled in the last 10 years, from 595 to 1,051 occurrences in the interval between 1991 and 2001, and thefts have more than doubled in the same period, from 87,358 to 180,704 occurrences, according to police statistics.
The increase in crime coincides with a decrease in the average age of gangsters -- the current scene is marked by its youth. Small units center around bars and brothels, luring disaffected high school and even middle school students to start a new life, promising excitement, respect, and most of all, acceptance into a new family, one not obsessed with grades, university, marriage and status.
Police suspect there are 400 factions in operation, numbering some 12,000 gangsters. Last December and January, 788 people in 57 factions were rounded up in a nationwide gangster crackdown ordered by the Supreme Public Prosecutors Office. Of those, 77.3 percent were in their teens to early 20s.
"It's the lure of quick money, a quick reputation, and frankly, it's cool," Lee says. "They usually start out as 'ppikki' or touts, and if they're good (at pulling in customers to bars) they might work for a nightclub after some training. Eventually, you run with the boss."
Many bar owners see the need to keep a few toughs around to take care of trouble in case of fights or rowdy customers, Shin says. "The cops take hours. We all go down to the station, and you wind up with nothing but an apology. A big stick will get you more than kind words. It's simply a necessary evil. Believe me, the customers pay."
But today's gangsters are not just thugs paid to keep order in nightclubs. Gangs, in fact, own most of the big discotheques in Seoul, as they are considered prime moneymakers and status symbols, charging hundreds of dollars for bottles of whiskey and plates of fruit. Extortion, prostitution, rigging of construction contracts, drugs and more mark the new millennium. Allegations of political ties continue to persist.
In one of the nation's biggest drug busts, police arrested the head of a gang suspected of distributing drugs worth 70 billion won ($60 million), presumed to be from North Korea, officials reported in September.
In Daegu, police arrested Yoon Ju-jong, boss of the Seongil faction on charges of drug trafficking. Yoon was suspected of bringing in 3 kilograms of methamphetamines worth 10.5 billion won through China every month since October last year, distributing the drugs over a network covering the entire country. Police found 25 bank accounts held under the names of other people, records of bank transactions worth 1.2 billion won, and arrested 35 gang members on charges of supplying drugs to 21 middlemen.
Shin laments the state of gangsters these days. "The understanding was, no drugs, no guns, no trouble," referring to what he believed was the unspoken rule between police and organized crime. "Kids these days are in it for all the wrong reasons."