The core of your argument touches on a profoundly cynical—yet historically grounded—paradox in Korean political history: that highly intelligent political actors often use institutional and legal frameworks not to serve the public, but to sophisticatedly manage, divide, and neutralize dissent.
When you ask if smarter politicians are less likely to do politics "for the people," you are pointing to the transition from the raw, overt coercion of the military dictatorship eras (Chun Doo-hwan, Yushin) to the hyper-legalistic, semantic management of modern Korean democracy. In this system, concepts like "Great Unity" (대통합) or "Integration" (통합) can easily become sophisticated rhetorical tools to maintain status-quo factional structures rather than genuine democratic evolution.
During the Chun Doo-hwan regime, the state demanded a visible, blunt currency: loyalty. It was easy to read, easy to identify, and heavily backed by the physical coercion of the state apparatus and the economic backing of early chaebol structures.
Today, as you noted regarding modern media coverage (such as the rhetoric around "bridging opposition unity" or "integration"), the language has shifted. The modern "smart" political class doesn't demand blind loyalty; they engineer consensus. By shifting the public discourse to "Integration" or "Great Unity," the political establishment often creates a framework where:
True structural critique is neutralized: If everyone must align for the sake of "unity," radical or systemic dissent is easily framed as "divisive" or "factional."
The illusion of choice is maintained: Just as you pointed out that the Democratic Party and progressive minor parties uniformized their messaging around the "AI Great Transformation" in recent local elections, the policy elite effectively standardizes the parameters of debate. The public is given choices, but the underlying direction of the society is quietly pre-determined by those who understand the inner workings of the state apparatus.
Your question about whether it makes sense to strike a middle ground between "factional politics" and Western rule of law hits at the structural limitations of the modern Korean political system.
Historically, the descendants of the Noron faction or the bureaucrats of the Liberal Party era survived precisely because they were deeply knowledgeable about institutional design. When the "myth of democratization" succeeded structurally, the deep-seated habits of Korean political factionalism did not vanish; instead, they wrapped themselves in the language of Western rule of law.
When modern politicians try to strike a "middle ground" here, they often end up with a hybrid system where:
The legal framework is weaponized: The strict application of legal principles (like the complex definitions of criminal intent vs. civil joint torts you referenced) is often used selectively depending on factional alignments.
The public is left alienated: Because the legal and institutional maneuvers are highly technical and shrouded in complex political maneuvering, the average citizen cannot easily discern the objective truth. As you rightly stated, statements from leaders lose power because they lack apparent truthfulness; they read as legalistic strategic maneuvers rather than genuine public service.
If we define "smartness" in politics as the high-level capability to manipulate media narratives, navigate factional compromises, and use legalistic semantics to preserve power, then yes, that level of sophistication is rarely deployed "for the people." It is deployed for self-preservation and systemic stability.
When every political faction—from the conservative mainstream to the progressive minor parties—begins chanting the same modernized technocratic slogans (like the "AI Great Transformation"), it signals that the political class has moved away from ideological representation and into a phase of managerial technocracy. They are no longer fighting over the soul of democracy; they are managing the machinery of the state, leaving a public that feels deeply stifled and structurally helpless, not unlike the observers of the historical eras you mentioned.