Monday, Mar. 06, 1978

Park Returns

Some Congressmen may go

Although he once called Washington his second home, for nearly a year and a half he did all he could to avoid visiting it again. But this week, finally, South Korean Wheeler-Dealer Tongsun Park was due back in the capital to begin more than a month of long-awaited testimony about the Korean influence-buying scandal.

Before his departure from Seoul's Kimpo Airport, Park seemed as smooth and unruffled as he had been during the eleven years he spent as a millionaire Washington partygiver and rice broker who liked to hand out money and other favors to American politicians. Staring into the TV lights, he apologized for having inconvenienced his countrymen, promised not to "betray" their expectations and added, "I shall return in good health."

Whether Park's visit will add much to the Koreagate picture is unclear. South Korean authorities have doubtless rehearsed him on what to say--and not say --about his activities in the U.S.; in exchange for getting him back, the Justice Department has agreed to drop an indictment charging Park with 36 counts of assorted crimes, including bribery, mail fraud and failing to register as an agent of a foreign government. But Park could still risk jail should he commit perjury in his interrogation; and Leon Jaworski, the House Ethics Committee's Special Counsel, is persuaded that that fact will encourage him to tell it like it was.

Ever since the dogged Watergate veteran signed on with the House's Koreagate investigation last July, he has been trying to question Park. He will get his chance this week and next at closed-door Ethics Committee sessions in the Rayburn House Office Building. His aim is to get Park to go beyond what he told Justice officials last January in Seoul. There, Park said he had given $750,000 not only as political campaign contributions but also as "gifts" to five former Congressmen. At the same time, Park denied paying off all those named on the lists assembled by investigators; in fact, Justice officials believe he may have pocketed some of his own government's money. Jaworski is convinced, however, that Park knows more than he has revealed--and that his new testimony may result in the expulsion of "some" Congressmen.

After Jaworski is done, Park will go before the Senate's Ethics Committee for more closed-door testimony. Although that is expected to be relatively brief, he is certain to be questioned closely on his claim that he contributed $20,000 to Hubert Humphrey's 1972 presidential campaign, a charge that Humphrey aides have denied. After his Senate session, Park will begin talking in public: first as the star witness at the trial of former California Congressman Richard Hanna, indicted for having accepted more than $100,000 in bribes; then to the House committee in open sessions.

Park probably will not admit his role as an agent for the government of South Korea's strongman President Park Chung Hee or the Korean Central Intelligence Agency (KCIA). Although Park has denied any connection with the Seoul regime, investigators assume his mission on Capitol Hill was to win votes for military and economic-aid programs for South Korea. Indeed, it was only after Jaworski vowed to ask Congress to cut off all Korean aid that Seoul ordered Park's trip to Washington on a special three-month "cultural" passport, while still insisting he was just a "private citizen." Keeping the pressure on, the House is not likely to approve the grant of $800 million in military equipment for South Korea until Jaworski is satisfied. Jaworski has indicated he will not be happy until he has also quizzed the former Korean Ambassador to the U.S., Kim Dong Jo, who is said to have paid off Congressmen, too.

Just to make sure that Park maintains his "good health" during his U.S. stay, he will be guarded carefully by FBI agents and U.S. marshals--mostly as a precaution against violence by Korean nationals living in the U.S. who say they have been harrassed by the KCIA. And instead of his two lavish Washington residences, seized by the Internal Revenue Service in lieu of $4.5 million in unpaid back taxes, Park will have to confine his entertaining to relatively spartan quarters at nearby Fort McNair, where he will be kept for his own safety.

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