At the end of a week when South Korea slid towards bankruptcy and its currency devalued by almost 100 per cent, two of the three leading candidates in the December 18th presidential election called separate press conference. The topic: the height of the second son of Mr Lee Hoi-chang, candidate of the ruling party whose life-long reputation for integrity has earned him the nicknamed of the "bamboo-pole" . . .
One of the opposition candidates had sought to damage his rival's clean image by claiming Mr Lee's sons had gone on a crash diet to avoid military service and that one had falsely giving his height to the Defence Ministry as 160 cm, rather than 165 cm, thus excluding himself under a weight for height consideration.
When Mr Rhee In-je of the New Party of the People made the claim to reporters, the son, Mr Lee Soo-yeon flew back from Boston - he is studying at Harvard University - and was publicly measured in Seoul to prove he indeed stood at 165 cm. Whereupon Mr Lee called a press conference to insist on his rival withdrawing from the campaign.
In another dirty trick, word leaked out of a letter to leading candidate, Mr Kim Dae-jung, from a defector to North Korea expressing the hope he would win. A newspaper called it "McCarthyist engineering" and suggested the letter was faked, pointing out the defector, a religious leader called Mr Oh Ik-jae, would know the extent of public sentiment against the northern communists.
The mud-slinging has lent an air of unreality to an election in which voters seem more concerned about their catastrophic economic circumstances than who will win. However, this and the national crisis has distracted attention from what diplomats describe as the first really democratic election since the end of military rule in 1987. In normal times this election would be attracting world headlines as a triumph for the advance of western-style democracy in Asia.
In presidential elections in 1987 and 1992, huge rallies of up to a million people were staged at which free food, transport and brown envelopes with money were provided. The funding came from big business concerns eager to buy the candidates.
"Most of the crowds at these rallies were not voluntary, they were mobilised and paid for," said Prof Shin Myung-soon, a political scientist at Yonsei University in Seoul. "In one case the ruling party used up all its legal campaign funds at one event."
This time the candidates have agreed not to stage any rallies. In any event the chaebols, the big family conglomerates, are less flush with cash and more wary about what they do with it after several big anti-corruption trials. The rival contenders are instead appearing in three televised debates. With one to go these have turned out to be as civilised as in US presidential elections. Opinion polls are also banned so as not to influence the outcome, and newspapers are adhering to a code of fairness, giving equal space to the rival candidates. "This is the first time we have ever had television debates," said broadcaster Lee Seh-Yong of MBS-TV/Radio, author of a book in Korea on the BBC. "We are seeing a transition from a procedural democracy to a more substantial democracy."
After five years of scandals and political miscalculations, culminating in the humiliating intervention of the International Monetary Fund two weeks ago, the voters are united in saying "good riddance" to the outgoing president, Mr Kim Young Sam, who is widely blamed for the crisis.
But the two front-runners are struggling to convince voters they are qualified to lead the nation of 45 million people through the critical months ahead, when the president will have to balance proud South Korean nationalism against the harsh conditions laid down by the IMF. Policies are less important than management and leadership abilities. "There are no ideological differences, the election is mostly about personalities," said Prof Shin.
Mr Lee, a 62-year-old career judge, represents the elite which has run South Korea for many years. He has taken great steps, including renaming the party, to distance himself from its taint of venality. His 73-year-old rival, and at this stage the likely winner, is a democracy activist who first ran for office in 1961, following which he was jailed for six years. Mr Kim Dae-Jung subsequently spent 10 years under house arrest or in exile. When he campaigned as a pro-democracy candidate his supporters were harassed by riot police. Once, when it looked as if he might win, there were rumours the military would step in, but now intervention by the 600strong army is regarded as a thing of the past, and soldiers are no longer told how to vote.
Mr Kim has supported labour against the big conglomerates and promises to recognise still-banned unions like the teachers' and public servant's unions. Many observers feel he will be better able to handle worker unrest when tens of thousands lose their jobs in the coming months. His critics say he will be compromised.
The IMF managing director, Mr Michel Camdessus, extracted promises from the three leading candidates that they would support the agreement to carry out painful reforms, but Mr Kim hinted since at renegotiating the package if he is elected. Prof Shin said he believed there was a consensus among the candidates, including Mr Kim, that the IMF-dictated reforms were necessary. "This is rhetoric," he said in his study at Yonsei University, scene of student unrest earlier this year. "When he really sees the situation he will change his mind."
A senior western diplomat agreed. "The IMF could be the best thing that has happened to Korean politics," he said. "It gives the government cover for deep and painful reforms." But in the meantime, the candidates are staying away from the main issue, with some preferring to concentrate on personalities and mud slinging rather than make promises they cannot keep.
A bank customer in Seoul, in shock and afraid she has lost her life savings