Well-Timed Clemency

A year ago. baby-faced Lieut. General Chang Do Yung was the swaggering front man of South Korea's tough new military junta, which had just seized power. Less than two months later, his fellow revolutionary, General Park Chung Hee placed him under house arrest, then clapped him into Seoul's red brick Sodaemun prison. The charges: during the early hours of the takeover. Chang had harbored subversive doubts, had mildly tried to stop the coup. For this, Chang was sentenced to hang, but the penalty was later commuted to life imprisonment.

Last week, looking wan and carrying a small bundle of personal belongings, Chang, 39. was freed. Humbly he told reporters: "I am sorry for causing all this trouble." With his wife, he took a taxi to a cousin's home (his own luxurious villa had long been rented), then knelt in prayer with his family and a Korean Presbyterian minister.

Chang owed his freedom to Strongman Park, who also released seven other military rivals. Said Park: "I was moved by their contribution to the success of the revolution, despite their serious offenses later. They are now being given a last chance to render service to their country."

Park's acts of mercy clearly reflected the regime's increased confidence in its ability to hold a tight rein on internal security. But such clemency was timed to serve an additional purpose: next week the junta celebrates the first anniversary of its triumph, and Park is anxious to show influential foreign guests invited for the occasion that he can be a kindly strongman.

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