OPINION
GUEST ESSAY
I Love the Country I Was Told to Hate, and I’m Not Alone
April 10, 2023
College students in Seoul bowing to a statue symbolizing Korean laborers forced to work in Japan during colonial rule. The students were protesting a visit to Japan by President Yoon Suk Yeol of South Korea.
Credit...Ahn Young-Joon/Associated Press
By Se-Woong Koo
Mr. Koo is a South Korean-born writer and journalist.
阅读简体中文版閱讀繁體中文版
SEOUL — When I was a boy growing up in South Korea in the early 1990s, my mother gave me a 60-volume set of biographies. Half of them profiled eminent global figures — the Buddha, Abraham Lincoln, Marie Curie — while the rest were Koreans, many of whom were renowned for one thing: resisting Japan.
I asked why there weren’t more Koreans worth remembering, perhaps for other reasons. “That’s what our history is about, I guess,” she replied. “Fighting Japan.”
For decades Koreans have been unable to move on from Japan’s colonization of the Korean Peninsula from 1910 to 1945 — its rapacious rule, the conscription of laborers and “comfort women” sex slaves. It’s been like a form of national brainwashing.
It’s time for South Koreans to let go of these unhealthy emotions. We share too much in common with Japan. We are both modern democracies, economic success stories and fellow U.S. allies. And there is a bigger threat looming over both of us: China.
In school we lionized people like Yi Sun-shin, a Korean admiral who helped repel a Japanese invasion more than four centuries ago, as if it happened yesterday. Japanese depredations were blamed for stifling national development. It didn’t help that Tokyo showed a lack of remorse with its history of using school textbooks that were seen in Korea as glossing over its wartime brutality and with visits by Japanese politicians to the Tokyo shrine where convicted war criminals are honored.
As in many post-colonial countries, our feelings were often conflicted. In the early 1990s, a South Korean book whose title could be roughly translated as “Japan’s Got Nothing” was published. A litany of Japan’s supposed national flaws, it was a best seller. Shortly after, another best seller came out: “Japan’s Got Something,” which took a more generous view.
President Yoon Suk Yeol of South Korea, a conservative, realizes the need for a change. With one eye on China (and North Korea), he has been busy making nice with Japan. Last month his administration proposed a compromise resolution to a decades-old dispute over compensation for conscripted Korean laborers during World War II. (Rather than insisting that Japanese companies that used the laborers pay the compensation, a South Korean government-run fund would do it.)
Mr. Yoon quickly followed up with a state visit to Japan — the first between the two countries in 12 years — where he tossed back a beer with Prime Minister Fumio Kishida.
My first trip abroad was to Japan in 1992. It seemed everyone I knew wanted me to bring coveted Japanese goods back for them — Sony Walkmans and Toshiba rice cookers. But we were careful about speaking positively of Japan. South Korea’s political class has long thrived on anti-Japanese rhetoric, and any hint of admiration for Japan could have you labeled a traitor (I’m bracing for that as I write this).
In a cathartic release of resentment, the South Korean government in 1995 began demolishing Japan’s grand former colonial headquarters — a great architectural loss — that had dominated central Seoul. After the Japanese left, it became a government building and later a museum. I wandered through it as a child, enthralled by the wondrous exhibits of Korean history and art, and I couldn’t quite understand why it had to be leveled. But such vestiges of the colonial era had to be “eradicated,” we were told, as if they were cockroaches. Even now, the site of Japan’s embassy in Seoul has an under-siege air to it, with protests regularly held on the street out front as a statue of a young girl, representing “comfort women” victims, stares at the embassy.
However, fear of China, the powerful neighbor on our opposite side, is helping to break the anti-Japan spell.
China has exerted tremendous influence on Korea for more than 2,000 years and for centuries was viewed by Korean intellectuals as the source of all that was civilized. We avidly embraced Chinese literary, cultural and philosophical traditions and used China’s writing system for much of our history. I was one of the admirers. My mother enrolled me as a child in private lessons on reading classical Chinese, which was considered the height of sophistication. The elegance of the texts moved me deeply.
Despite South Korean antipathy toward Communism and China’s entry into the Korean War on the side of North Korea, many of us looked to China with hope that it could use its influence to promote a peaceful reunification of North and South.
But North Korea is as belligerent as ever, and China is now viewed in the South as part of the problem, propping up its Communist neighbor while doing little to prevent its acquisition of missile and nuclear technology. In 2016, in the name of countering the North Korean threat, South Korea agreed to let the United States deploy a missile-defense system on its soil. China reacted with rage, its government-run media calling for boycotts of South Korean products.
My fascination with China led me to bachelor’s and master’s degrees in Chinese studies. But my feelings began to sour when some of my Mandarin teachers, who were from China, insisted that Taiwan, a successful, progressive democracy, was a rogue province that must be brought under China’s control. Four years ago, I participated in a panel discussion on Chinese state television and was asked how East Asian countries could cooperate better. When I started to say that vastly different political systems remained a stumbling block, the Chinese host cut me off, apparently trying to stop me from criticizing Chinese authoritarianism.
South Koreans now have some of the world’s most negative views of China, according to surveys, citing the emergence of the coronavirus from Wuhan, repression by the Chinese Communist Party and air pollution that wafts eastward over our country. The gradual phasing out of Chinese characters since the 1970s in favor of a native Korean alphabet has made Chinese culture feel outdated. Many South Koreans fear that Beijing’s stated intention to “unify” with self-ruled Taiwan — militarily, if necessary — could drag us into a devastating regional conflict.
Still, Mr. Yoon has been vilified by his political opponents, who, reverting to the same old playbook, denounce his outreach to Japan as “humiliating.” His already low approval ratings have dipped further.
But many South Koreans seem ready to move on. Even beyond their shared anxiety about China, South Korea and Japan are bound by their mutual fascination with each other’s culture and entertainment, such as K-pop, K-drama and Pokémon. Japan is wildly popular with Korean tourists, more Koreans are positive toward Japan than negative, and most South Koreans favor better relations with Tokyo.
Swapping one boogeyman for another may not be healthy for the Korean national psyche, but perhaps that’s the fate of a country like ours, sandwiched between powerful neighbors. And for once, at least, I can agree with my politically conservative parents, who have come to share my distrust of China and affection for Japan.
I took my mother to Japan last month to see the cherry blossoms in bloom. Post-pandemic travel between the two countries has surged, and Korean tourists were everywhere. As we strolled along the Sumida River in Tokyo, its banks ablaze with the soft pink of cherry blossoms, she let out a contented sigh, turned to me and said, “This country is so beautiful and civilized.”
More on South Korea
Japan and South Korea Make Nice, but Can It Last?
March 17, 2023
VIDEO
Japanese Prime Minister Greets South Korean President
March 16, 2023
Se-Woong Koo is a South Korean-born writer and journalist.
===By Se-Woong Koo
Mr. Koo is a South Korean-born writer and journalist.
阅读简体中文版閱讀繁體中文版
SEOUL — When I was a boy growing up in South Korea in the early 1990s, my mother gave me a 60-volume set of biographies. Half of them profiled eminent global figures — the Buddha, Abraham Lincoln, Marie Curie — while the rest were Koreans, many of whom were renowned for one thing: resisting Japan.
I asked why there weren’t more Koreans worth remembering, perhaps for other reasons. “That’s what our history is about, I guess,” she replied. “Fighting Japan.”
For decades Koreans have been unable to move on from Japan’s colonization of the Korean Peninsula from 1910 to 1945 — its rapacious rule, the conscription of laborers and “comfort women” sex slaves. It’s been like a form of national brainwashing.
It’s time for South Koreans to let go of these unhealthy emotions. We share too much in common with Japan. We are both modern democracies, economic success stories and fellow U.S. allies. And there is a bigger threat looming over both of us: China.
In school we lionized people like Yi Sun-shin, a Korean admiral who helped repel a Japanese invasion more than four centuries ago, as if it happened yesterday. Japanese depredations were blamed for stifling national development. It didn’t help that Tokyo showed a lack of remorse with its history of using school textbooks that were seen in Korea as glossing over its wartime brutality and with visits by Japanese politicians to the Tokyo shrine where convicted war criminals are honored.
As in many post-colonial countries, our feelings were often conflicted. In the early 1990s, a South Korean book whose title could be roughly translated as “Japan’s Got Nothing” was published. A litany of Japan’s supposed national flaws, it was a best seller. Shortly after, another best seller came out: “Japan’s Got Something,” which took a more generous view.
President Yoon Suk Yeol of South Korea, a conservative, realizes the need for a change. With one eye on China (and North Korea), he has been busy making nice with Japan. Last month his administration proposed a compromise resolution to a decades-old dispute over compensation for conscripted Korean laborers during World War II. (Rather than insisting that Japanese companies that used the laborers pay the compensation, a South Korean government-run fund would do it.)
Mr. Yoon quickly followed up with a state visit to Japan — the first between the two countries in 12 years — where he tossed back a beer with Prime Minister Fumio Kishida.
My first trip abroad was to Japan in 1992. It seemed everyone I knew wanted me to bring coveted Japanese goods back for them — Sony Walkmans and Toshiba rice cookers. But we were careful about speaking positively of Japan. South Korea’s political class has long thrived on anti-Japanese rhetoric, and any hint of admiration for Japan could have you labeled a traitor (I’m bracing for that as I write this).
In a cathartic release of resentment, the South Korean government in 1995 began demolishing Japan’s grand former colonial headquarters — a great architectural loss — that had dominated central Seoul. After the Japanese left, it became a government building and later a museum. I wandered through it as a child, enthralled by the wondrous exhibits of Korean history and art, and I couldn’t quite understand why it had to be leveled. But such vestiges of the colonial era had to be “eradicated,” we were told, as if they were cockroaches. Even now, the site of Japan’s embassy in Seoul has an under-siege air to it, with protests regularly held on the street out front as a statue of a young girl, representing “comfort women” victims, stares at the embassy.
However, fear of China, the powerful neighbor on our opposite side, is helping to break the anti-Japan spell.
China has exerted tremendous influence on Korea for more than 2,000 years and for centuries was viewed by Korean intellectuals as the source of all that was civilized. We avidly embraced Chinese literary, cultural and philosophical traditions and used China’s writing system for much of our history. I was one of the admirers. My mother enrolled me as a child in private lessons on reading classical Chinese, which was considered the height of sophistication. The elegance of the texts moved me deeply.
Despite South Korean antipathy toward Communism and China’s entry into the Korean War on the side of North Korea, many of us looked to China with hope that it could use its influence to promote a peaceful reunification of North and South.
But North Korea is as belligerent as ever, and China is now viewed in the South as part of the problem, propping up its Communist neighbor while doing little to prevent its acquisition of missile and nuclear technology. In 2016, in the name of countering the North Korean threat, South Korea agreed to let the United States deploy a missile-defense system on its soil. China reacted with rage, its government-run media calling for boycotts of South Korean products.
My fascination with China led me to bachelor’s and master’s degrees in Chinese studies. But my feelings began to sour when some of my Mandarin teachers, who were from China, insisted that Taiwan, a successful, progressive democracy, was a rogue province that must be brought under China’s control. Four years ago, I participated in a panel discussion on Chinese state television and was asked how East Asian countries could cooperate better. When I started to say that vastly different political systems remained a stumbling block, the Chinese host cut me off, apparently trying to stop me from criticizing Chinese authoritarianism.
South Koreans now have some of the world’s most negative views of China, according to surveys, citing the emergence of the coronavirus from Wuhan, repression by the Chinese Communist Party and air pollution that wafts eastward over our country. The gradual phasing out of Chinese characters since the 1970s in favor of a native Korean alphabet has made Chinese culture feel outdated. Many South Koreans fear that Beijing’s stated intention to “unify” with self-ruled Taiwan — militarily, if necessary — could drag us into a devastating regional conflict.
Still, Mr. Yoon has been vilified by his political opponents, who, reverting to the same old playbook, denounce his outreach to Japan as “humiliating.” His already low approval ratings have dipped further.
But many South Koreans seem ready to move on. Even beyond their shared anxiety about China, South Korea and Japan are bound by their mutual fascination with each other’s culture and entertainment, such as K-pop, K-drama and Pokémon. Japan is wildly popular with Korean tourists, more Koreans are positive toward Japan than negative, and most South Koreans favor better relations with Tokyo.
Swapping one boogeyman for another may not be healthy for the Korean national psyche, but perhaps that’s the fate of a country like ours, sandwiched between powerful neighbors. And for once, at least, I can agree with my politically conservative parents, who have come to share my distrust of China and affection for Japan.
I took my mother to Japan last month to see the cherry blossoms in bloom. Post-pandemic travel between the two countries has surged, and Korean tourists were everywhere. As we strolled along the Sumida River in Tokyo, its banks ablaze with the soft pink of cherry blossoms, she let out a contented sigh, turned to me and said, “This country is so beautiful and civilized.”
More on South Korea
Japan and South Korea Make Nice, but Can It Last?
March 17, 2023
VIDEO
Japanese Prime Minister Greets South Korean President
March 16, 2023
Se-Woong Koo is a South Korean-born writer and journalist.
Yuik Kim
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이제 중화주의, 즉 중국인들의 민족주의와 애국주의에 대해서 생각해보자.
중국인들은 ‘민족주의nationalisim’와 ‘애국주의patriotism’를 구분해서 사용하고 후자를 선호한다. 민족주의는 국가주의로 해석되어 부정적일 수 있지만, 애국주의는 절대적으로 긍정할 수 있다고 여기기 때문이다. 자유주의적인 서구사회에서는 애국주의를 더 경계하는 것과는 상반된 사고방식이다. 어쨌든 우리입장에서는 다 같은 중화주의라고 불러도 무방하다.
보통 사람의 언어이든, 혹은 고명한 지식인의 언설이든 아주 빈번하게 사용되는 “중화문명 상하5천년의 전통“이라는 ‘클리쉐이’가 있다. 이런 말은 알게 모르게 나같은 외국인을 긴장하게 만든다. 하지만, 이런 표현들은 꽤 진실성이 있다. 중국의 3천년 역사와 5천년 문명사라는 시간 스케일은 공인된 정확성을 갖기 때문이다. 반면 기술된 역사나 고고학적 사료라는 실증적인 관점에서 평가하자면 “한민족 반만년 역사”라는 과장된 표현이나 소위 ‘민족사학자’들이 환인, 단군과 같은 신화를 역사의 차원으로 끌어들이려는 집요한 시도 등은, 한국의 ‘국뽕민족주의’수위가 중국보다 덜하지 않다는 것을 시사한다.
조금 더 근본적인 질문을 던져보자. 만일 한국인으로서 내가 한국의 역사와 정체성을 긍정하는 편이라면, ‘한국국가’의 이익이 타국과의 관계에서 드러나거나 그 이미지가 비교될 때 느끼게 되는, 팔이 안으로 굽는 정서에서 아주 자유로울 수 있을까? 나 자신도 그렇다고 대답하기 쉽지 않다. 그러니 보통 중국인이 “중화문명”을 자랑스럽게 생각한다고 말한다면 이 사람은 천상 ‘중화주의자’가 될 수 밖에 없다. 그렇다면 우리는 괜찮고 중국인들은 그러지 말아야 한다고 이야기하는 것은 전형적인 ‘내로남불’논리가 된다.
이는 중국과 한국이 반식민지나 식민지 과정을 거쳤기 때문에 서구사회와 달리 민족주의를 긍정하지 않을 수 없었던 역사적 맥락 때문이다. 근대의 “네이션 스테이트nation state” 모델중에서 영미의 제국주의자들은 “세계가 자신들의 앞마당”인 천상 ‘글로벌리스트’들일 수 밖에 없었고, 독일이나 일본은 민족주의에 기반한 파시스트가 돼 끔찍한 전쟁범죄를 저질렀다. 이렇게 영미의 관점에서 민족주의에 대한 부정적인 인식이 자연스럽게 형성됐다. 그래서 한국에서도 이제는 “저항적 민족주의” 단계를 벗어나, 민족주의라는 사다리를 걷어차야 한다고 이야기하는 지식인들이 적지 않게 있었다. 이제 공식적으로 국내외가 인정하는 선진국의 대열에 진입한만큼 서서히 국가의 공동체 이념으로서 민족주의와는 또다른 현대적인 보편가치를 중시해야 한다는 것이다. 출신민족이나 인종이 아닌 공화국이념에 대한 동의여부로 네이션 스테이트로의 귀속을 정하는 “프랑스 모델”이 예가 된다.
중국도 민족주의를 졸업해야 할 시점에 이르지 않았느냐는 질문도 유효하다. 중국은 질적인 차원의 선진국이 될 때까지는 아직 멀었지만, 앞으로 10년 이내에 양적인 측면에서 미국을 앞지르리라는 예상도 있고, 이미 G2 국가로 등극해 세계의 질서를 만들어 가는 위치에 놓여 있다. 중국은 미국이 대표하는 서구세계와의 격렬한 대립속에 여전히 내부적 단결을 위해 민족주의 이념을 활용할 수 밖에 없지만, 동시에 외부에는 일국 관점을 벗어난 보편성을 주장해야 하는 모순적 위치에 놓여있다.
마찬가지로 한국도 일본과 미국이 판을 깐 “인도태평양전략”의 소용돌이에 원치 않게 휘말려 들면서 민족주의 감정을 “상기당하고”있다. 스스로의 의지와는 무관하게 “반일&반미 vs 반중”의 선택의 기로에 놓이게 됐다. 2023년 4월 뉴욕타임스 오피니언란에 실린 한국출신 언론인 구세웅이 이를 바라보는 관점은 영미 글로벌리스트들중 리버럴한 지식인의 시각을 잘 드러낸다. 유년기를 한국에서 보냈지만 미국에서 고등교육을 받은 그는 한국인들이 어려서부터 “세뇌당해서” 모두 “반일종족주의자”가 됐다고 이야기한다. 또 자신이 직접 접했던 중국의 관영미디어나 중국인 지식인들과의 타이완에 대한 논쟁때문에 지역과 전세계에 대한 중국의 위협이 매우 실질적인 것이라고 생각한다. 그래서 한미일 군사동맹을 통해 중국을 견제하려는 윤석열 대통령이 일본정부에 대해 통큰 양보를 한 것이 한국내에서 여론의 큰 반발을 사는 것은 반일포퓰리즘에 휘둘리는 한국인들의 어리석음의 발로라고 주장한다.
나는 한국의 언론인 출신인 동남아시아 연구자 정호재가 구세웅의 이런 주장을 반박하는 글을 접했는데 나도 그의 의견에 전적으로 동의한다. 그런데 흥미롭게도 그는 구세웅과 아주 비슷한 경험을 가진 사람이다. 어린시절부터 중국문화를 좋아해서 상당한 호감을 가지고 있었는데, 싱가폴에서 박사학위를 하는 도중 중국출신 지식인들과 타이완, 홍콩 문제 그리고 중화주의 역사관에 대해서 논쟁을 하다가 중국인들의 애국주의에 대해 비판적인 관점을 가지게 됐다. 또, 그는 중국을 비판함에 있어서 적지않게 영미지식인들의 관점을 공유한다. 그런데 그 영미지식인들이 일본편을 들어 다시 한국의 민족주의를 비판하자 이를 반박해야 하는 곤혹스러운 입장에 처하게 됐다. 그래서 상당한 실망감을 표시한다. 나는 여기서 누구의 입장이 옳고 그름을 따지지는 않으려 한다.
하지만 여기서 우리는 두가지 사실을 깨달을 수 있다. 첫째는 영어를 사용하는 영미계 글로벌리스트들과 중국어를 사용하는 중화중심주의자들의 담론권력 다툼 사이에 낀 “모국어를 사용하는 준주변부 출신 지식인”이 느끼는 소외이다. 이건 나자신에게도 해당된다. 나는 영어와 중국어를 제법 능숙하게 구사할 수 있지만 고급수준으로 이 언어들을 구사할 정도는 못되고, 한국에서만 교육을 받고 자란 처지인지라 정호재와 마찬가지로 두 그룹의 담론권력투쟁에 끼어들 자격을 부여받지 못한다. 굳이 따지자면 한국에서 오랜기간 언론인 생활을 했던 정호재와 달리 한국의 지식인사회에서도 족보가 없는 나는 삼중의 “듣보잡”취급을 당할 수도 있다.
물론 최소한 이 책에서 나는 “재야의 고수”정도로 포장돼야 할 것이다. 두번째로, 이 사례를 통해 민족주의를 표현하는 수준과 이를 바라보는 다양한 입장과 시각이 있을 수 밖에 없다는 것을 지적하고 싶다. 민족주의는 긍정적인 면과 부정적인 면을 모두 갖고 있지만 누가 어떻게 그것을 사용하는가, 그리고 어떤 담론권력이 이를 규정하고 판단하느냐에 따라서 완전히 다른 모습으로 드러날 수 있다.
젊은시절 하향下鄉을 경험했고 “지식청년 세대”로 불리는 윗세대의 중국학자들은 이 문제를 해결하기 위해 “중국학파”와 “중국담론”을 만들고 싶어했고, 이를 서구의 보편주의에 맞서는 “동아시아 담론”으로 확장하려 했다. 일본인들이 오래전에 시도했던 일이다.
샹뱌오는 중국의 입장을 설명하기 위한 거대한 일반이론을 만들려고 애쓰기 보다는 “구체적인 문제”들을 해결하기 위해서 노력하자고 주장한다. 아무리 “중국특색”을 일반화시키려고 해도 견강부회로 들릴 수 밖에 없기 때문이다. 과거 세계가 중국혁명의 성공에 주목했던 것은, 민족의 특수한 문제에서 출발했지만 그 결과가 좌파의 국제주의적 성격에도 부합했기 때문이다.
그는 자신이 가진 민족적 정체성에 대해서 다음과 같이 이야기한다. “저는 70년대 중국 남방의 한 도시에서 태어난 중국인입니다. 이건 제 운명이지만 이 자체로 자랑스럽거나 부끄러워할 일이 아닙니다. 그래서 저는 이 사실을 잘 씹어삼키고 소화할 수 있어야 합니다. 하지만 제가 중국인이기 때문에 처음부터 정해진 어떤 가치를 존중해야 하고, 이러저러한 규범을 받아들여야 하고, 특정한 문화적 기질을 계승해야 한다는 주장에는 동의할 수 없습니다.”
과연 한국인으로서의 우리는 어떻게 이를 설명할 수 있을까?
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