The spoon-class theory that swept through Korea is not something that applies only to domestic social strata. In truth, there is a very clear spoon hierarchy between nations as well.
Over the past twenty years, Argentina had behaved so disastrously that one had to wonder where the bottom of the abyss even was.
Their populism, represented by “Peronism,” had bankrupted the national finances, plunged the economy into the gutter, and thereby created a vicious cycle in which the people became even more dependent on government subsidies.
By contrast, over those same twenty years, Vietnam, having abandoned communism, took the lead in attracting foreign investment and built itself into a global production base on the strength of cheap labor. In doing so, they wrote the “Miracle of the Mekong,” with GDP per capita soaring roughly tenfold in just about twenty years.
But it seemed that, no matter how hard a dirt spoon struggled, it still could not beat a gold spoon.
Argentina, which habitually borrowed money from the IMF, had a GDP per capita of around 14,000 dollars, roughly three times higher than Vietnam’s 4,700.
Then what on earth had the Argentine people done so well? What was it that the Vietnamese people lacked?
In truth, nothing.
Argentina was a country where, if you let cattle graze on pastureland, they fattened themselves on their own, and if you scattered seeds, corn and soybeans grew like mad.
Since it was the best farmland in South America, one might think they had some agricultural technique of their own or some special fertilizer… but not at all. Argentina’s soil was simply incredibly fertile.
That was why, in the same period, even when African children spent twelve hours a day making soccer balls and Vietnamese youths operated sewing machines in harsh conditions, they could not catch up to Argentina’s GDP.
If you were born in a resource-rich country, it seemed you were a gold spoon even if you were born in the slums.
“…”
Looking at the long stretches of ranches and granaries spread out along the Pampas, I sank into such thoughts.
Korea, with a similar population size, is a country with a GDP per capita of 30,000 dollars, roughly twice Argentina’s.
“…”
Then why is it only twice as high…?
We only borrowed from the IMF once, and even then, we paid it all back in four years.
Over the past twenty years, we staked our lives on semiconductors, raised talent in the hell of entrance exams, and became a great country that revived everything from cutting-edge technology to the cultural industry.
So why is the difference with Argentina only twofold…
If they have taken IMF loans more than twenty times and their real economy has been this thoroughly wrecked, shouldn’t the difference be at least twentyfold? How is it that the people of this country can eat beef more easily than we can?
—Moo~ Moo~
—Quack, quack, quack.
Breathing in the faint smell of manure drifting over from the pasture, I calmed my resentment.
Well, still, if you were born in Korea, you were an ultra-gold spoon in the top 10% of the world. I supposed I had to be satisfied with that.
“What are you spacing out about?”
“Just looking at the scenery. If you’re tired, should I drive?”
“No need. You just do well in today’s meeting.”
Under the pretext of an on-site inspection… we had essentially finished sightseeing and were now on our way to the Liberty Party headquarters.
Director Oh, who had been cursing as soon as we arrived in Buenos Aires, had changed his attitude quite a bit over the past week.
“It certainly is strange… All the sovereign wealth funds whose names people would recognize have come to Buenos Aires.”
“I told you. Expectations for Milei are considerable.”
“Let’s be cautious. They’ve gathered, yes, but no one has stepped forward saying they’ll make a large-scale investment yet.”
“Director. Aren’t investors supposed to make money by pouncing the moment they sense a sign? Before and after Milei’s election, the Merval Index has already tripled.”
“That’s exactly why it’s even more of a problem. Why on earth does a stock market triple on expectations alone?”
It seemed Argentina’s inexplicable stock market surge had only stimulated Director Oh’s wariness even more.
“To be honest, even the one trillion won purchase we made before coming here—I want to sell it all right this instant. You saw the black-market dealers hanging around every currency exchange, didn’t you? This place is practically Pyongyang. It’s no different from a jangmadang.”
In truth, while the Merval Index had indeed exploded threefold, our actual rate of return was only about 30%(?). That was because the peso-dollar exchange rate being traded on the black market was offsetting our gains to one-tenth.
Director Oh seemed to want to realize profits quickly before the stock market crashed due to some unexpected variable.
“But I suppose you’ll just let my words go in one ear and out the other, won’t you?”
“Haha.”
“Anyway, who is this person? Karina Milei?”
“She’s President-elect Milei’s younger sister and his closest aide. Chief of staff, head of the transition committee, and soon to be party leader—a key figure in power.”
“She’ll soon be party leader? How do you know that?”
Oops. I had accidentally leaked the secrets of heaven.
“…Well, isn’t it obvious? Now that he has power, he’ll take control of the party. Through the person he trusts most.”
By the time our chatter ended, we had arrived at the Liberty Party headquarters.
When we arrived, transition committee members who appeared to be high-ranking came out to greet us, and the protocol was almost at the level of receiving state guests.
While we were waiting in the place they guided us to, the door opened, and some welcome Koreans appeared.
It was Director Lee of the Consilience Office at the Ministry of Trade, Industry and Energy, with whom we had held intense meetings over the past week. He let out a low sigh and said,
“I conveyed what you said.”
My palms grew slick with sweat.
“H-how did it go?”
“The Argentine government isn’t in a position to be picky right now. They mostly accepted our demands. Yes, they did accept them, but…”
Director Lee of the Ministry of Trade, Industry and Energy asked me with a dark expression.
“Are you truly going to invest that money in Argentina? This is not a matter of trade. As a citizen, is the pension fund’s decision really the right one?”
*
“Is that true?”
A day earlier, an emergency meeting had been held at the Argentine Liberty Party headquarters.
With the administration’s launch about two weeks away, the Liberty Party transition committee had recently been spending its days in a frenzy.
Among all their tasks, the one they were devoting the most effort to was attracting foreign capital. As soon as the election ended, President-elect Milei had sent love letters to global investment firms, but perhaps because of Argentina’s disappointing performance over the past forty years, he had not drawn an explosive response.
“Yes, it’s true. Korea’s sovereign wealth fund, NPS Korea, has already invested seven hundred million dollars in our stock market.”
But one country was different.
Korea’s sovereign wealth fund, NPS, had already poured seven hundred million dollars into the Merval Index before and after the election. It was the largest amount among all investment firms in the world.
“What I’m curious about isn’t whether they invested seven hundred million dollars or not. Are you saying they truly intend to invest another three billion dollars?”
But their gift did not end there.
An additional investment of three billion dollars… They had stated that they would invest four times as much money as they had already put in, and there was no way to understand why.
“Yes. That is also correct. They promised to invest in stocks and bonds at a seven-to-three ratio, and judging by their actions so far, it is unlikely to be a lie.”
“I don’t trust Trojan horses lightly. What did they want?”
“…Nothing in particular.”
“What?”
“Ah, of course, there were a few requests related to trade and tariffs… but there were no demands like the IMF’s, telling us to repay borrowed money in gold or threatening to seize cultural assets if we failed to meet repayment dates.”
Karina immediately checked the documents the man handed over.
It was all true. A letter from Korea’s Ministry of Trade, Industry and Energy had requested a 5 to 10% reduction in automobile tariffs, but there was no phrase saying they would take cultural assets.
After passing it around and reading it, the transition committee could not hide their bewilderment.
Of course, around the election, the Merval Index had surged as global expectations were reflected. But because the peso had collapsed, the rate of increase in dollar terms could not be called all that large.
Rather, amid the sharply rising market, global rating agencies had shifted to conservative positions. Their assessment was that the path President-elect Milei had to take was nothing but a thorny road, and that excessive expectations had already been priced in. That was only natural, since Argentine presidents had always cried out for reform, only to become completely different people once they were elected.
“Good. Let’s speak freely about what you think of NPS’s proposal.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the nominee for Argentina’s minister of industry raised her hand.
“Madam Secretary-General. I don’t think this is right. Tariffs are a matter of reciprocity. The Korean government protects its own industries by slapping a 25% tariff on our agricultural products. And yet they want us to lower tariffs on their cars by 5 to 10%? What a very bad country! When they suffered the IMF crisis in 1997, they rapidly accepted neoliberalism and went through enormous turmoil. But now they are using bonds and investment as an excuse to threaten our trade. I cannot accept it. If they want to break down our tariffs, they should come to the FTA table with sincerity.”
“That’s a good opinion. What do the rest of you think?”
But no sooner had she finished speaking than every member of the transition committee and every ministerial nominee raised their hands.
“Madam Secretary-General, allow me to say something first.”
The one who hurriedly spoke was the nominee for the Ministry of Finance.
“It is daunting… To be honest, it is utterly daunting.”
His hands trembled as though he had seen a ghost.
“The president said he would drastically cut government subsidies, but if that happens, unemployment and poverty rates will soar. And if, on top of that, we devalue the exchange rate? Then our people will suffer the double hardship of inflation and unemployment. According to our own calculations… if the president truly devalues the exchange rate as planned, next year’s inflation rate could reach 250%. The one million protesters gathering in Buenos Aires will turn into ten million protesters.”
In truth, he had seen something even more frightening than a ghost. Venezuela, which had fallen into a state of civil war the moment government spending was reduced.
“But devaluation is not a problem that will end after one or two rounds. In fact, the blue dollars traded on the black market are so vast in scale that even the Ministry of Finance cannot grasp it. If we are to align the peso-dollar market rate, we would have to carry out a devaluation by dozens of times. Can our people really endure that?”
“Mm…”
“It is impossible. The reason the president is meeting the IMF, and the reason we are continuing to attract foreign investors, is ultimately to obtain even one more dollar, isn’t it? We need even one more dollar if we are to catch up with the exchange rate.”
Everyone wore solemn expressions.
Last year, Argentina’s inflation rate recorded 50%, and the cause was the shortage of dollars. And that accumulated figure had now turned the peso into scraps of paper.
When his long speech ended, the nominee for the Ministry of Industry sprang from her seat.
“Look, Dr. Marco. No matter what, trade is about reciprocity. Lower tariffs just because they invested a little? Do you have no pride?”
“What truly wounds our pride is that even our own people don’t use the peso.”
“W-what?”
“In reality, Argentina’s legal tender right now is the dollar. Even our people don’t trust it. Which is more humiliating: having no monetary sovereignty, or tearing down 5% of our tariffs?”
“Everyone, stop.”
Karina, who had been watching silently, restrained the two of them.
The bitter smile on her face meant that “a certain decision” had been made.