$350,000 Education : Korman Finds Lesson in Crushing Defeat

“There is one lesson to be learned from this victory: Nothing is impossible.”

--from Sang Korman’s

undelivered victory speech

In the end, pursuing what he called his “impossible dream,” Korman resembled an Asian-American version of a political Don Quixote, a knight of the woeful vote count.

Few candidates spend so much to attain so little. In his quest to upset Rep. Elton Gallegly (R-Simi Valley) in last Tuesday’s Republican primary, Korman laid out an estimated $350,000--including $245,000 of his own money--and four months of full-time stumping.

For all this, he won 13.9% of the tally, or 9,467 votes. This means he spent nearly $37 for every vote he received, a figure political consultants say is several times above the norm. At that rate, Korman could have bought every one of those who voted for him in the 21st District a choice seat at a Los Angeles Lakers basketball game--and filled only half the Forum where the Lakers play.

Money and futility alone did not make the 51-year-old Korman such an unusual candidate. Traipsing door-to-door, attending public events, responding to reporters’ questions, he displayed extraordinary determination, energy and, most of all, political naivete.

Some Regrets

For Gallegly, the contest was a political milestone. For Sang Rok Korman, an American citizen for only eight years, a successful real estate developer and a first-time candidate, it was a political education.

“I learned a lot,” Korman said over a post-mortem lunch of steak and french fries Thursday. Then, after steadfastedly maintaining there was nothing he could have done differently, he expressed some regrets.

“I wish I could speak better English,” he said. “I wish I could spend more time on my language capabilities. I wish I could spend more time involved in community affairs.”

Korman’s candidacy was closely watched outside of his district. The Newbury Park resident sought to become the first Korean-American elected to Congress. His contributors were primarily Korean-Americans from Los Angeles and elsewhere and the race was well-chronicled by the city’s Korean-American press and even publications in South Korea.

His experience, therefore, offers lessons for this rapidly growing and politically emerging ethnic group as well.

“There’s a notion out there that even though he lost, he did set a precedent that we can try for certain things,” said a well-placed Korean-American political observer who requested anonymity. “More than that, it was incentive for a more qualified candidate than Sang Korman to come along and carry on what Korman started.”

Above all, Korman learned how difficult it is to defeat an incumbent who has a large staff, a district office set up to help constituents, generous special-interest contributions and, most of all, taxpayer-funded newsletters. Only three California incumbents have lost primaries in the past decade--including Ernest Konnyu (R-Saratoga) on Tuesday--and all were tainted by scandal or allegations of misdeeds.

Now, Korman says he believes he needed a staggering $800,000 to $1 million and a 5-to-1 spending advantage to offset those perks. As it was, he outspent Gallegly by more than 2 to 1.

Moreover, Korman had not anticipated he would have to run against not only Gallegly but, to some extent, President Reagan and Vice President George Bush, both popular figures in the suburban southern Ventura County and west San Fernando Valley district. Gallegly’s political brochures featured photos of him with the President on Air Force One, and he blanketed the radio airwaves with a Bush endorsement spot the week before the election.

“What he done in my district, I don’t think it’s right,” Korman said of Bush’s primary endorsement. “I think he influenced it a lot.”

The citizen-candidate also discovered the rough-and-tumble of American politics. He was asked about his wife’s citizenship. He was quizzed about why he changed his name from Suh to Korman, which sounded more Anglo. Two editorial writers at a major newspaper requested a meeting, Korman recalled, posed only two questions and then told him they invited him only because Gallegly said Korman would not show up without consultants to speak for him.

‘Freedom Fighter’

He was tagged as being “active with leftist anti-government groups as a youth” in an 11th-hour Gallegly campaign piece. Korman, who recalled during the campaign that he supported anti-government politicians in South Korea as a college student, angrily said he had opposed a right-wing dictatorship but had never been a leftist.

“I was the freedom fighter in Korea,” he said. “I’m very proud I did it.”

And the sheer magnitude of his defeat left him wondering aloud whether “the people refuse Sang Korman because he come from an Asian country.”

During the campaign he recalled he had experienced much less racism than he had expected in the predominantly white, conservative district. Only five times, he said, had older residents tossed his flyer away or greeted him with epithets during his daily door-to-door rounds.

“One guy said, ‘I know who you are. Get out of here,’ ” Korman said. “Maybe they think I’m Japanese. They were in the war, maybe.”

Within Los Angeles’ Korean-American community, Korman’s bid was viewed with considerable hope. Despite widespread surprise over the margin of his defeat last week, community activists sought to cast the outcome in a favorable light.

“We got a very valuable experience this time,” said Tae Ihk Son, deputy managing editor of The Korea Central Daily and one of those who covered Korman. “Even though he failed this time, he made a lot of Koreans encouraged. He gave us kind of a chance.”

Son said he and other Korean-American reporters at Korman’s election night party urged him to run again--something Korman does not rule out. The paper devoted three pages to coverage of the candidate the day after the primary.

Some in the Korean-American community--which contributed more than $100,000 to Korman’s campaign--had privately maintained that Korman’s lack of fluid English, political experience and familiarity with the issues had made him a weak candidate who might set the community back politically. Korman had not been sought out by the Korean-American community to run for its long-coveted congressional seat; he approached them with his plans.

But Yoon Hee Kim, U.S. Sen. Pete Wilson’s director of Asian-Pacific affairs and president of the Korean-American Coalition, said that Korman’s bid was seen as courageous by many and would lead to increased political involvement, especially among first-generation immigrants.

In addition, she said the outcome demonstrated that a candidate should start with a base of ethnic or community support. In a district with a tiny Asian-American population, political novice Korman had none. Kim also said that running for a rare vacant seat or in a primary against a non-incumbent would be far preferable to opposing an incumbent.

Jun Kim, Mayor Tom Bradley’s liaison with the Korean-American community, added, “You have to well-establish your own ground, which applies to any ethnic group, and build up your own credentials in your area.”

He cited the example of Los Angeles City Councilman Michael Woo, a Chinese-American and the city’s highest-ranking Asian-American officeholder. Woo, in contrast to Korman, had a history of involvement in California politics, worked for state Senate President Pro Tem David A. Roberti (D-Los Angeles) and won support from prominent Democrats as well as the Asian-American community. Even then, Woo was elected only on his second bid in 1985.

Underlying some of these comments appears to be the realization that Korman was simply the wrong candidate in the wrong district and the wrong contest to make a breakthrough.

Some political professionals second-guessed Korman’s campaign as inefficient. They maintained that a $350,000 campaign should have sent out more brochures and flyers, generally considered the best way to reach likely voters in a congressional race.

“You certainly could have gotten more bang for your buck,” said Paul Clarke, a Republican campaign consultant who ran races in the 21st District for Gallegly’s predecessor, Bobbi Fiedler. “I hate to see anybody taken to the cleaners.”

Overall, Korman sent out five mailings of flyers and 25,000 letters to supplement his door-to-door stumping at a cost of $117,000, campaign manager Bob Lavoie said. One of the mailings was sent to all 95,000 Republican households; the others went to fewer homes.

By comparison, former White House speech writer Dana Rohrabacher, who won the Republican nomination to replace departing Rep. Daniel E. Lungren (R-Long Beach) Tuesday, financed six mailings to 81,000 Republican households, said GOP consultant Allan Hoffenblum, who handled the campaign. Rohrabacher spent just under $200,000 in a spirited battle against seven opponents.

Richard Lichtenstein, president of Marathon Communications, the Los Angeles consulting firm that ran Korman’s campaign, said Friday that Korman’s planned mail program was reduced because Korman fell short of his fund-raising target of $500,000 to $600,000. Money initially spent on overhead under that budget could not be recouped so the voter contact program had to be cut, Lichtenstein said.

Still, Lichtenstein estimated that at least $200,000 was spent on direct voter contact. In addition to mail, the campaign used signs, newspaper advertisements, phone banks and airplane banners.

The rest of the money went to Marathon, staff salaries, office rent, fund-raising costs, telephones, survey work, speech training and other expenses. Overall, Lichtenstein said 60% to 70% of the campaign spending was for direct voter contact, which consultants recognize as an acceptable standard.

Korman dismissed any criticism of Marathon’s performance as unfounded.

“I didn’t ask them to make me elected, I just asked them to do their best,” he said of his consultants, who generally handle Democratic races. “They did their best. I don’t blame them. If I blame anyone, I blame myself.”

During lunch at a Chinese restaurant on primary day, Korman expectantly broke open a fortune cookie. Then, with a look of dismay, he dropped the fortune on the table. It said: “Part of the joy of a vacation is getting there--have fun.”

Ironically, his quiet, attractive wife, Myung, got the fortune he would have preferred: “You have much to offer. Let others know.”

Fortunes aside, Korman displayed the confidence he had shown throughout the uphill campaign. Victory was at hand, he maintained.

“Believe me,” he said, lighting up a Kent, a habit he regained during the campaign, “If I lose, it will be by a very small margin.”

And what was his worst case scenario? Would he receive at least 20,000 votes?

“At least,” Korman replied.

That evening, reality dawned. Then, 20,000 votes looked like a prayer. The early returns showed Korman wouldn’t reach half that figure.

The final tally would be: Gallegly, 55,721, Korman, 9,467. David Desko, a political unknown who spent less than $5,000, received 2,774 votes.

Lichtenstein and Lavoie quietly gave Korman the news at the swank North Shore Country Club as his family, Korean-American friends and staff awaited word.

Korman looked a bit dazed. He buried his hands in his pockets and fidgeted. “I don’t think I will win,” he muttered quietly. “Lose. Big margin.”

He hugged himself with folded arms. He tapped his feet and shuffled. He lit a Kent. He looked like a man who had suddenly discovered that his impossible dream was just that.

He would deliver his gracious concession remarks; the typed victory speech he had told his staff to draft remained in his jacket pocket. One by one, he told supporters the bad news.

But when the camera bulbs started flashing, Korman broke into his wide grin. Chalk it up to the education of Sang Korman--this much of a politician, at least, he had become.