Isolated from his people by barbed wire, prowling tanks and stern-faced troops, proud old Syngman Rhee sat in his presidential palace early last week stubbornly clinging to power. He had ordered ailing Vice President-elect Lee Ki Poong to "apologize to the nation.'' But to the swelling demand for his own resignation. Rhee turned a deaf ear. "This time of trouble." he insisted, "strengthens my determination to serve the nation."
Rhee might still be there if it had not been for one man: General Song Yo Chan (see box), South Korea's hard-driving army chief of staff, whom Rhee had entrusted with the task of enforcing martial law in Seoul and four other restless Korean cities. "I myself believed the students' demands were just." admitted Song late last week. Song was also convinced that unless Rhee gave way, the only way the Korean army could save Rhee's government would be by shooting down students in droves.
Deliberate Man. To avert such a blood bath, Song deliberately set out to jolt Rhee out of the presidency. In three successive interviews, the general hammered at Rhee with heavy hints that if the students rioted again, the Korean army would probably refuse to shoot or even to quell them, and the two U.S. divisions manning the border with North Korea might well be withdrawn from the peninsula. Rhee listened, but temporized.
Song recognized that he needed a more dramatic argument. His chance came when 300 Seoul National University professors gathered nervously on the steps of Seoul's National Assembly building to orate against the Rhee regime. Most were sure that they would all be dead by nightfall. But Song made no attempt to disturb them. The demonstrators cringed visibly when the first army tank rolled up. But it rumbled by as if nothing untoward were happening.
Slowly, the recognition dawned that Song's army was not going to hurt them. By the time the 7 p.m. curfew hour came, the crowd had swelled to monster proportions. Suddenly, some of the bolder demonstrators clambered onto passing tanks shouting: "Long live our soldiers." Doffing their helmets, the young tank crewmen joined the crowd in tribute to the students killed in earlier rioting by singing a Korean war song that begins:
Sleep well, my comrades,
We advance to victory
Over your dead bodies.
Song's loudspeaker Jeeps began to prowl the area, blaring: "Dear students, dear citizens, please go home now: and rest ..." Good-humoredly, the crowd shouted back: "But why can't we be promised new elections?" From Song's Jeeps came the reply: "We know that your demands are justified."