As a political journalist, my memory of former President Park Geun-hye goes back to the year 2012.

It was the “year of politics” when the four-year term parliamentary election and the five-year term presidential election coincided in a rare opportunity.

It was the year in which Park rose from symbolic daughter of the assassinated former strongman Park Chung-hee to the ruling conservative party’s interim chief -- and eventually to become the nation’s president-elect.

It was the year that the former Grand National Party, now the Liberty Korea Party, changed its name to the unconventional Saenuri Party and its emblem color to red, a color often associated with anti-government progressive powers.

But my first impression of the political celebrity then had nothing to do with these grand themes -- it involved a red jumper. 

The occasion was the launch of the party’s central election committee at the parliamentary members’ offices on March 21, with less than a month remaining to the general election.

The months from late 2011 to early 2012 had weighed heavily upon the ruling conservative party, which suffered from the public’s antipathy against then-President Lee Myung-bak.

Park was tasked with renewing the party’s public image and to turn around its plunging polls ahead of key elections.

She, too, knew that leading the distressed party into victory in the spring parliamentary election was a test to prove her eligibility once and for all as a undisputed runner for the year-end presidential election.

Marking the key moment, Park was sitting in the front row that day, surrounded by cameras, journalists and fellow lawmakers.

But oddly enough, she was the only party member in the hall not to wear the red jumper, which signified the renewed identity of the GNP-turned-Saenuri Party.
  Rep. Park Geun-hye sits at the initiation ceremony of the then-Saenuri Party’s election committee on March 21 2012. On the right is Rep. Suh Chung-won, the symbolic chief of the pro-Park faction, and former Education Minister Hwang Woo-yea. In the second row are Rep. Hwang Young-cheol, who has now moved to the Bareun Party, and Cho Yoon-sun, a former culture minister now under trial over the so-called blacklist scandal connected to the Choi Soon-sil corruption case. (Bae Hyun-jung/The Korea Herald)

Despite the curiosity of onlookers, Park stayed mum and as did her aides in the vicinity, until press photographers made the request, “Could the chairwoman put on the party jumper for the photos?”

All of the reporters present, including myself, naturally expected the election committee chief to willingly cooperate. After all, it was a given opportunity to promote the party’s renewed identity to the public.

Park’s response, however, was to lower her gaze, with no words of explanation or sign that she would wear the garment.

Her gesture, as vague as it may have seemed to observers, appeared to be understood by her aides.

“This jumper is way too big for the chairwoman. Have someone bring an extra-small size, or at least a small one,” one of the party members ordered the staff.

I don’t precisely remember whether the party headquarters had an extra-small size ready, especially considering that Park was a rare petite female member in the camp.

But the order did have the intended effect, for she ended up putting on the red jumper after all and blended in with her surrounding colleagues.

“Park never takes actions on her own or speaks in her own voice,” was the sarcastic remark of Chun Yu-ok, who once assisted Park closely until their estrangement in 2007.

Combined with the above episode, her words give a glimpse of Park‘s character.

Among her numerous revealing stories was an outdoor event back in 2005, when Chun was spotted pulling up the hood of then-lawmaker Park’s raincoat, a scene that won her the nickname “maid in charge.”

“As it was raining, everybody including high-profile guests such as provincial governors were wearing the hoods of their raincoats, all except Park who, for some reason, refused to move an inch to take cover from the rain,” Chun said.

“I knew that if I got up and put on (the hood), I would be seen as a flatterer, and if I didn’t, I would be accused of playing a power game with Park.”

Her claim was that Park always wanted to confirm her aides’ loyalty through such signs of care and submission.

I do not intend to say that I am 100 percent with Chun, but I agree that Park seldom speaks out or acts on her own, but rather expects her followers to take care of such “mundane tasks.”

Her exit from the presidential office Cheong Wa Dae late on Sunday and the statement she made at the time again confirmed my thoughts.

The historical court ruling Friday to impeach a sitting president immediately led to an extreme social divide, with a majority rejoicing over the ouster of the embattled president and an enraged minority crying foul over the decision.

The consequent rallies, which partly turned violent, even caused the death of three pro-Park protesters.

Even amid growing disappointment, many held on to a glimmer of hope that as former president of the state, Park would address the public at some point or another -- if not to consent to the impeachment ruling, but at least to call for social unity.

But instead, she chose to speak only through her trusted aide, former Cheong Wa Dae spokesperson Rep. Min Kyung-wook in this case and only to plead unfairness over her fate.

“It may take time, but I believe that truth will eventually be revealed,” were the words that she could not find enough courage to say in front of the crowd.

And this will probably be the representative image that I shall keep of Park, when I look back on a former president, in the year 2017 when she was ousted from power.

By Bae Hyun-jung (tellme@heraldcorp.com)