Korean-Americans See Need for Political Power : Communities: An insular group hit by the riots realizes it must overcome generational rifts and forge coalitions.

After two decades of pursuing the American dream in relative isolation, the recent riots and three-day siege of Koreatown have shattered the insularity of the Korean-American community and awakened it to the need for building political power.

Although Korean-Americans have begun the rebuilding process, leaders, activists and merchants say they have learned that the community can no longer afford to work solely on building economic strength while ignoring the political context.

In the midst of widespread despair and anger, many in the community have been engaged in political finger-pointing, blaming the police and city for a failure to protect them. Others have criticized Gov. Pete Wilson for not dispatching National Guard troops more quickly when Koreatown came under attack. But deeper lessons have been learned as well.

We “have no allies in City Hall or Sacramento,” said Edward Chang, an assistant professor of ethnic and women’s studies at California State Polytechnic University in Pomona. “Politically, Korean-Americans found they are on the bottom of the society.”

Jerry Yu, executive director of the Korean-American Coalition, a political advocacy organization, concurred. “We can only conclude that their lack of response was because of our lack of political power,” he said.

The key to gaining power, some analysts say, lies in the immigrant community’s ability to integrate with the larger society, overcome generational rifts and forge coalitions.

“I’d like to see an umbrella organization emerge from this crisis, something like the Jewish Federation Council,” said T.S. Chung, a Korean-American lawyer who lost a recent bid for a state Assembly seat.

Chung, 36, represents an emerging professional class of young, increasingly assertive Korean-Americans whose Western ideals and values are in contrast to the dominant first-generation Koreans. Chung, who is bilingual, organized a meeting Thursday between Peter V. Ueberroth, who is leading the city’s rebuilding effort, and the Korean-American community.

Despite the effort, Korean-Americans did not emerge from the three-hour meeting with one voice, according to those who attended.

“The community needs to consolidate,” said one Korean-American who asked not to be identified. “People are confused about who the heck to talk to in the Korean-American community because there are so many different groups.”

Forging coalitions will be crucial to having a voice in the rebuilding process, said Yoon Hee Kim, a community activist and special adviser to Mayor Tom Bradley.

“The stronger the Korean-American community becomes in political power and representation, that will have a direct impact on the Korean-American community in the rebuilding process,” said Kim, who was also at Thursday’s meeting.

The genesis of the recent politicization can be traced to the shooting last year of black teen-ager Latasha Harlins by a Korean merchant--and the trial of the grocer, Soon Ja Du, who was sentenced to probation in the girl’s death. Even then, many Korean-Americans asked questions about the community’s ability to mobilize and get its message across.

In both the Harlins case and in the recent riots, community leaders felt that the media did not adequately portray their side of the story. On the other hand, they felt hamstrung by the fact that many first-generation merchants speak primarily Korean and the community lacks an easily identifiable spokesperson. Leaders recognize that an increased political presence would bring with it a higher profile in the mainstream media.

The extensive damage to Koreatown caused by the riots--estimated by Koreans to be as much as $400 million--touched most of the 300,000 Korean-Americans in Southern California. It directly affected hundreds of Korean families who saw their markets, liquor stores, electronics shops and swap meets burned to the ground or looted.

But the riots also had a powerful, indirect effect on the rest of the community.

To Korean-Americans, Koreatown is much more than a business district. It represents the center of Korean social and cultural life, not only in Los Angeles but in the United States. It is a symbol of two decades of work by immigrants who, for the most part, built Koreatown with little outside help. The galvanizing impact will remain long after the rebuilding is completed.

Bong Hwan Kim, 34, director of the Korean Youth Center, called the riots “the Korean version of the Japanese internment experience, of the Chinese Exclusion Act.”

As with African-Americans and other ethnic minorities, many leaders see the ballot box as the key element of empowerment. And they face many of the same struggles in mobilizing electoral participation. Figures on Korean-American voting in Los Angeles are not available, but Chang said that in general, “Korean-Americans have one of the lowest voting and voter-registration records.”

Some leaders have begun talk of voter registration drives and efforts to encourage first-generation immigrants to become citizens. But that will require money, information and staff--things the Korean-American Coalition says it lacks. Even with support, Yu does not believe that Korean-Americans in Los Angeles can establish a powerful voting bloc soon.

But it is demographics, not logistics and money, that pose the most serious challenge to an effective electoral strategy. The Korean community is spread throughout Southern California. Although most of the businesses in Koreatown are Korean-owned, figures from the 1990 census released last week show that only 26.5% of the 60,560 people who lived in Koreatown in 1990 are of Asian descent; the majority of residents are Latino. Thus, Korean-Americans say they will have to build coalitions with Latinos and African-Americans if they are to have a greater say in the way Koreatown is represented at City Hall.

Although the task of coalescing different Korean interest groups around a unified political agenda will be difficult, the seed for such a coalition has been planted.

After the riots, Korean-American lawyers, accountants and other professionals--first and second generation--joined forces in an unprecedented way to offer aid to community members. At Radio Korea, hundreds of volunteers--including students and homemakers--worked around-the-clock in the week after the riots, taking calls from Korean benefactors, who have donated about $800,000 for emergency relief.

The joining of hands surprised many Koreans and it raised hopes that the community could come together.

“I was surprised and moved that all the generations and sectors are united,” said Euiyoung Yu, a professor of sociology at Cal State Los Angeles. “Especially the second and first generation; they were pretty much apart,” he said. “Now they realize they need each other.”

Inwardness is common among new immigrant communities. In 1970, the census reported 7,000 Koreans living in Los Angeles County. In 1990 there were about 150,000. During those two decades, the community has focused on economic survival, Yu said, leaving it little time to participate in the larger American society.

Still, natives of Korea--once known as the hermit kingdom--agree that they tend to be unusually insular, not only in their relations to society but even within their own community. Many first-generation Koreans associate on the basis of age, school, birthplace, church affiliation and work, among other things.

Such insularity has been reinforced by Korean-language television, radio and newspapers. Many say first-generation Korean-Americans are more interested in Korean politics American politics.

“We don’t speak English, we don’t know about American society,” said Chong Ae Lim, 38, owner of Korea Glass, who immigrated three years ago. “If we’re going to live here, we should follow American customs.”

Other first-generation Koreans, although less critical of the community’s isolation, acknowledge that the lack of understanding of language and American customs has slowed Korean political activism and played a part in tensions with African-Americans.

For many Korean-Americans, the challenge lies in channeling anger and despair into effective political action. The Rev. Jae Hwang said he believes that the Los Angeles riots have clearly been a defining moment for the community.

“Without this crisis, we would not have realized that America is not the dreamland that we all thought it was,” said Hwang, a pastor at the Oriental Mission Church in Koreatown. “Now we know firsthand about racial injustice in America. We have to try to become more involved and develop leaders who will enter mainstream society and represent us.”