The People's Choice?

Roh

Moo Hyun, the man who could be South Korea's next President, appeals to the country's "youth vote," according to the pollsters. Maybe that's because when twenty-somethings see Roh on the news, they see not a crusted-over and compromised politician, but a new face they might just be able to trust. As a youngster Roh was given to smart-mouthing his teachers and goading his friends into mischief. When some pals worried they'd get in trouble if they snuck out on a bender, Roh egged them on, high- school friend Lee Dong Sun recalls: "He said 'If you worry about getting caught and about getting good grades and a job, when are we ever going to have fun?' "

Roh's having big fun now. After emerging as the decisive winner of a series of landmark primary elections last Saturday, the 55-year-old lawyer and erstwhile national assemblyman was anointed by the ruling Millennium Democratic Party as its standard-bearer in upcoming presidential elections set for December. Stunned pundits are still trying to figure out how such an unknown—and unorthodox—politician could suddenly have pole position. His candidacy blew up out of nowhere, leading newspapers to dub the campaign the "Roh Tempest."

Credit in part Roh's man of the masses cachet. In South Korea, where most top political leaders are in their 70s, an outsider free from the taint of corruption is being welcomed like a long-lost brother. A former tax lawyer, Roh turned to defending student protesters and labor leaders during Korea's raucous pro-democracy movement in the 1980s. He radiates an antiestablishment vibe that is seductive to the working class and younger voters fed up with scandals and politicians who never seem to fade away. In an interview with TIME last week, Roh had this to say about Lee Hoi Chang, a conservative former Prime Minister and Supreme Court judge who, according to current polls, poses the strongest threat to Roh's presidential bid: "Lee speaks for the privileged. I am concerned about the common person."

Roh might have remained a commoner himself were it not for a change in Korea's election rules. In the past, the selection of presidential candidates was the preserve of party powerbrokers. This year, voters got a say in choosing through a primary system. As word of Roh's candidacy spread, normally apathetic younger Koreans started to buzz on Internet bulletin boards—some even launched fan clubs. "Roh's from a small village, he doesn't come from a good family and he doesn't have a college degree," says admirer Uh Ji Youn, 20, an English major at Dongguk University in Seoul. "He seems clean and genuine."

Roh comes by his populist leanings honestly. Born in a farming hamlet near the port city of Pusan, he grew up in a family that couldn't always afford rice. As a young man, he drifted through a succession of blue-collar jobs, then taught himself the law and passed Korea's notoriously difficult bar exam. In 1981, a friend asked him to help defend students arrested without a warrant and tortured by authorities for reading banned books. The sight of one student's severely battered feet, toenails ripped off by government goons, was a turning point. "I felt ashamed," Roh says. "There were 100 lawyers in Pusan and not one was willing to stick his neck out." Though it was dangerous work, he began to take on human rights cases on behalf of those who ran afoul of Korea's then-authoritarian regime. "I think it's in my genes," Roh says of his iconoclastic streak. "My father was like that."

In the election run-up, he'll have to increasingly defend his pristine image in the mosh pit of Korean politics. A Gallup-Chosun Ilbo poll last week gave Roh 49% of the popular vote, well ahead of opposition Grand National Party hopeful Lee, at 36%. But if Park Geun Hye, daughter of former Korean autocrat Park Chung Hee, enters the race as she has hinted she might, Roh's power base could be splintered.

Even more problematic at the moment is Roh's relationship to lame-duck President Kim Dae Jung. The antiestablishment candidate has fully embraced Kim's market-oriented economic policies—Korea's economy is surging and consumer sentiment is at an all-time high. But aligning himself too closely with the incumbent could prove damaging. Kim's three sons have all been linked to scandals in recent weeks, and Kim's own clean-hands image is getting tarnished.

Roh appears to be putting distance between himself and Kim. "Cooperation with the President would not do my campaign any good," Roh says, to explain why Kim won't be stumping for him next fall. Roh still needs support from party insiders if he is to win. Put too much space between candidate and the powerful center, and the outsider may in December find himself on the outside once again.