word zaibatsu, the family conglomerates that ruled over Japanese industry
in the race to World War II.
As his wealth grew, B.C. set up a sugar refinery in 1953 and a wool-
spinning plant the next year with Japanese and West German help. He used
the profits to acquire shares in a bank (in 1957), an insurance company, a
department store, and a Confucian university, Sungkyunkwan, founded in
- By the end of the decade, B.C. was reputed to be the nation’s richest
man. But he was also a symbol of South Korean corruption.
People called him the man with the “golden touch,” and “Mr. All-Wool”
for his luxurious wool coats. But for all the unflattering criticism of the
company, Samsung’s business projects were symbols of the postwar
reconstruction. They boosted national morale in times of dire need.
I met with a boisterous Jersey-ite named Tom Casey, who had lived in
Korea since 1968, running a rambunctious bar called the Sportsmen’s Club
near the base for servicemen and local elites and celebrities. His notoriety
once earned him the ire of U.S. senators upset over a gambling operation
for American soldiers overseas. He put me in touch with Henry Cho.
Henry was a grandson of B.C. Lee, as well as honorary chairman at a
chemical company called Hansol. Henry was one of the scions of the
Samsung empire. In his younger years, he’d managed the chemical business,
one of the five spin-off companies from the original Samsung empire that
still exist today. It took months to arrange a meeting with Henry. At first,
my request was flatly rejected. His people didn’t think the time was right or
that it was wise to speak with a journalist.
“The family, they protect each other,” Tom told me. But I persevered
and Henry finally agreed to meet.
I first met Henry over Chinese dim sum in a five-star hotel. We met a
second time at Seoul’s Grand Hyatt hotel overlooking the cityscape. They
were the sort of places where chaebol princes dine. Henry brought two of
his assistants to our first meeting, perhaps to monitor my questions.
In both our meetings, Henry made clear that his family’s crest of honor,
called a kahoon, was of the upmost importance to him.
“Do you know what that is?” he asked of his family’s motto.
I didn’t, I admitted.
“First, serving the nation through business. Second, people and talent
come first. Third, the pursuit of the reasonable.”