Korea lost a courageous patriot when former President Kim Dae- jung died last week and Asia lost a statesman who nurtured democracy in a region steeped in authoritarian rule.

In a half-century of public life, Kim was captured by the invading North Korean army during the Korean War and almost executed, was the target of an attempted South Korean assassination, and was kidnapped and nearly dumped into the ocean. He was imprisoned, sentenced to death, exiled and defeated in several elections. Yet he doggedly sought to pioneer democracy in South Korea and to achieve reconciliation with North Korea.

Kim argued vigorously that democracy was not a Western political ideology alien to Asia but had historical roots in Asia. Buddha, he asserted, said 2,500 years ago that "all creatures are equal." Kim cited the ancient Chinese philosopher Mencius as agreeing with John Locke that "sovereign rights rest with the people."

Kim, however, did not suffer from a false sense of humility. Rather, he was certain he was the best qualified to preside over Korea. When a U.S. senator said, in a moment of candor, "we politicians are not humble people," he could have been talking about Kim. That certainty sometimes clouded Kim's judgment as when he and rival Kim Young-sam failed to work together in opposing the authoritarian rule of President Park Chung-hee.

During one of Kim's house arrests in the 1970s, this correspondent teased him: "You are one of my best sources in Seoul." Kim was pleased but puzzled and asked, "Why is that?" I said, "Because you are usually under house arrest and I always know where to find you." He chuckled.

While the Park regime kept Kim locked up at home, it failed to isolate him and he used the time gainfully. He worked the telephone to glean political intelligence from supporters and often from opponents. He had a stream of visitors who didn't mind being photographed by the plainclothes secret police camped across the street. And he dispensed that intelligence with a minimum of spin.

During that time, Kim studied English. He had a tutor several times a week and gradually he spoke to Americans and other Westerners in English, sometimes with a translator standing by. He also spoke fluent Japanese as he had been educated during the Japanese occupation of Korea when Japanese was mandatory for Korean schoolchildren.

Curiously, Kim seemed not to share the persistent Korean antipathy toward Japan. The citation for the Nobel Peace Prize that Kim received for going to Pyongyang to meet the North Korean leader, Kim Jong Il, says: "Kim Dae-jung has worked for South Korea's reconciliation with other neighboring countries, especially Japan."

Kim's attitude may have been due, in part, to Japan's reaction when the (South) Korean Central Intelligence Agency kidnapped him from a Tokyo hotel in 1973. He was spirited down a highway to central Japan and hustled aboard a boat bound for Korea. At sea, they wrapped chains around his legs and were ready to throw him overboard. Kim, a Roman Catholic, said later he prayed hard begging for his life.

Strong protests from the Japanese and American governments radioed to the boat saved his life and he was released before dawn near his home in Seoul after five days. This correspondent arrived there that evening and was immediately ushered in. Kim gave a detailed account of his ordeal in a calm, almost detached manner.

"They had done a beautiful job of kidnapping me and getting me out of Japan, but they made one miscalculation," he concluded. "They had not expected the Japanese to be in such an uproar over the infringement of their sovereignty."

Even in adversity, Kim Dae-jung could be coolly analytical. RIP.

Richard Halloran, formerly a New York Times correspondent in Asia and in Washington, is a writer in Honolulu.