Church over Nation: Christians in Colonial Korea, Matsutani, Motokazu. 2012

 Church over Nation: Christian Missionaries and Korean Christians in Colonial Korea

Matsutani, Motokazu.  2012.  

Doctoral dissertation, Harvard University.

===

http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:9882530

© 2012 - Motokazu Matsutani All rights reserved. 

Dissertation Advisor: Professor Carter J. Eckert Motokazu Matsutani 

 

Church over Nation:  

Christian Missionaries and Korean Christians in Colonial Korea 

 

Abstract 

This dissertation examines the interrelationships between the foreign Missions and the Korean Church in colonial Korea. In contrast to previous scholarship that assumes a necessary link between the Korean Church and Korean nationalism, this study focuses on the foreign Mission’s predominance over the Korean Church as a major obstacle in the Korean Church’s adoption of nationalism as part of its Christian vision.  

 The foreign Missions established controlling power over the Korean Christians by relying 

on colonial privileges such as extraterritoriality and financial wealth, and perpetuated their power over local Christians through Church and mission schools. By insisting on the separation of Church from politics as an ecclesiastical principle, the Missions prevented Korean Christians from engaging in nationalist politics. Therefore, Korean Christian nationalists who joined the Korean Church with the intent of making the Church a nationalist center were constantly checked by the mission-dominated Church authority and forced to leave the Church to pursue their nationalist aims, while the majority of Korean Christians stayed in the Church, remaining loyal to the ecclesiastical order. The increasing frustration of nationalist Christians eventually exploded in the 1919 March First Movement, the greatest nationalist uprising of Korea’s colonial period. Many Christians participated in the political demonstrations of March First in protest not only to Japanese colonial rule but also against the ecclesiastical principle that prohibited Christian engagement in secular politics.  

 By highlighting the constant struggle that existed between the Protestant Church and Korean nationalism, this study argues that being a loyal Church member and being a Korean nationalist were incompatible roles in the mission-dominated Korean Church where the Church held primacy over the nation.  

   

Table of Contents 

Introduction 1 

Chapter 1  Catholic Tradition in Korea 28 

Chapter 2  Protestant Missions and Power 57 

Chapter 3 Church Formation under Missionary Control 110 

Chapter 4 Mission School Management 149 

Chapter 5 Church and Korean Politics 185 

Chapter 6 Korean Christian Revolts against Ecclesiastical Authority 218 

Chapter 7 Korean Intellectual Revolts against Ecclesiastical Authority 249 

Chapter 8 Korean Church and Independence Movement 282 

Epilogue 336 

Bibliography 368 

 

 

   

List of Figures 

 

Tables 

Table 1  Breakdown of a Single Male Missionary’s Annual Expenditure ······ 120 

Table 2  Christians who prepared the Declaration of Independence ············ 328 

Table 3  Prosecuted Koreans by Region and Religion····························· 332 

 

Figures 

Figure 1  Map of Territorial Division ·················································144 

Acknowledgement 

 

  This dissertation is my individual work, but I could not have been able to complete it without the many people who provided me with continuous, timely and generous support.  

  First, I would like to offer my deepest thanks to my advisor, Professor Carter Eckert. His support, inspiration, and encouragement were always the driving force in my academic endeavors. He has guided me not only with his expertise in colonial Korean history but also with his embracing smile. His mentorship will remain forever my model.  I thank Professor Andrew Gordon for his thought-provoking seminars on Japanese history and helpful tutoring during my doctoral years. It was his excellence in teaching and generosity toward students that inspired me when I first met him at the University of Tokyo, where he was teaching as a visiting professor, and eventually led me to pursue my academic goals at his home institution of Harvard. I cherish my encounter with Gordon-sensei as a turning point in my life.  

  Professor Sun Joo Kim taught me the importance of pre-modern Korean history in understanding its modern history. She also taught me to direct my attention toward local society and culture. Outside the classroom, she was always understanding and supportive of my child-rearing responsibilities and I vividly recall her kind invitation to my family to visit her home, where she treated us to her Korean cooking.  

  Besides my dissertation committee members, there are a number of faculty members who gave me the benefit of their inexhaustible knowledge, deep insight and kind encouragement. It was such a privilege for me to learn from them as a student and work with them as a research or teaching assistant. I regret that I cannot list all of their names here but I want to mention Helen Hardacre, Henrietta Harrison, Daniel Botsman, Mark 

Elliot, Peter Bol, Mary Brington and Wesley Jacobsen for their direct and indirect support. 

  I would like to thank all staff members in the administrative office of the Department of East Asian Languages and Civilizations who helped me at every important juncture throughout the years. Special thanks are due to Jim Zigo, Gus Espada, Susan Kashiwa and Denise Oberdan. At the Harvard-Yenching Library, I was always assisted by Mikyung Kang, Hyang Lee, and now-retired Chung-nam Yun in the Korean section, and by Kuniko McVey in the Japanese section. It was their devoted, professional and timely service that navigated me so efficiently through what seemed like an ocean of books.  I also greatly benefited from personal and institutional support of the Korea Institute. I thank Susan Lawrence, Myong Chandra, and Catherine Glover for their kindness and continuous assistance to Korean studies students. Likewise, I received kind assistance from Ted Gilman, Stacie Matsumoto and Margot Chamberlain of the Reischauer Institute of Japanese Studies. These two institutions also provided me with generous funding for my research and writing.  

  I received a Fulbright Scholarship for my first two years in the graduate program and I thank the Japan-U.S. Educational Committee and its staff members, especially Iwata-san for her kind assistance. I was also generously funded by the Korea Foundation in the latter half of my graduate program for which I am most grateful. 

  I extend my gratitude to my colleagues and friends who have enriched my life in both academically and personally --- Chong Bum Kim, Kyong-mi Kwon, Maria Sibau, 

Nick Kapur, Konrad Lawson, Hwansoo Kim, Denise Ho, Eunjoo Kim, Hiromu Nagahara, Fabian Drixler, Jeremy Yellen, Hyung-gu Lynn, Yunju and Satoru Hashimoto. I also benefited from meeting many visiting scholars who readily shared their knowledge and insights with me to facilitate my intellectual pursuits. I would especially like to thank Koji Nakakita, Koji Suga, Tae-gyun Park, Mariko Naito, Fumitaka Yamauchi, Ryuta Itagaki.    Prior to my years at Harvard, I had been nurtured by many mentors in Japan. I thank Professor Makoto Kurozumi for his incredible generosity. Without his academic guidance and personal care during my graduate years at University of Tokyo, I might have quit school at one point and abandoned my pursuit of an academic career entirely. I also thank his wife, Keiko-san, for the same generosity and warmth. I was also privileged to share with Professor Mitsuhiko Kimura at Aoyama Gakuin University my interest in Korean history and Christianity. He was also considerate of my welfare as a parenting student and introduced some academic-related part-time jobs to alleviate my financial constraints. A list of all my mentors would be far too extensive, but I would also like to extend special thanks to Yong-jak Kim, In-ho Lee, Takahiro Nakajima, Takashi Oka, 

Setsuko Miyata, the late Shozo and Yasuko Miyake, the late Akiyuki and Tamiko Watanabe. 

  In my last three years of writing, I was privileged to be a research associate at the 

Institute of Asian Studies at Waseda University. I am grateful for the mentorship of Lee Sung-si, Umemori Naoyuki, Ito Abito and Koguchi Hikota, and also for kind support by the staff members, especially Kuniko Yoshioka, Jikidō Nobuaki, and Irokawa Sayuri.    Off campus, the friendship of the following individuals has been of critical importance, without whom my long student years could not have been as lively as they were —Shiro Omichi, Kazunori Takada, Tomohiro Takeda, Kanako Ubukata, Takaya Kawase, Hiroshi Ishihara, Katsumi Ishibashi, Jung-jin Park, Hideaki Ota, Olga 

Khomenko, Haruka Matsuda, Seunghyok Lee, Jaemin Kim, Makiko Okamoto, Jinok and Kihaeng Park, Sayaka Chatani, Daniel and Yuki Heller, Takao Kinoshita. I also want to offer special thanks to Michael Shapiro, who kindly edited this dissertation and greatly enhanced its readability, while also providing valuable suggestions based upon his expertise in Japanese and Korean history. 

  The Great East Japan Earthquake on March 11, 2011, and the subsequent nuclear disaster at Fukushima Daiichi Powerplant was an unforgettable event in my last stage of writing. As a native of Fukushima city, where radioactive contamination has been severe, I found it impossible to concentrate on my writing without wondering why I should be allowed to continue my studies and pursue my own academic curiosity. While that question still remains with me, I hope that this dissertation may serve as a minor tribute to my old friends and close relatives there who have been patiently and courageously fighting the invisible fear of radiation.  

  Lastly, I must mention the great indebtedness I owe to my family. I thank my parents for raising me with much love and sacrifice despite my often being a rebellious son. I especially appreciate them for sharing me with their abundant knowledge and humor, while also teaching me the joy and burden of having a Christian faith. My four siblings have all been helpful and understanding to me despite sporadic conflicts and tensions among us.  

  My graduate years mostly overlap with my honeymoon days with my beloved wife, Eri. Her unconditional love and support for me was the single most important source of encouragement that enabled me to keep going forward. I owe to her everything I have achieved thus far and I am happy that I can continue to walk with her to achieve more. Our three children, Mitsu, Mare, and Ikoi, were all born during my doctoral years and have been a great joy in our life. Someone once made fun of me that I have been more productive biologically than academically. That is very true. Yet, I am not embarrassed about it but just proud of it!  

  I dedicate this work to Eri who has shared with me all the joys and sorrows in life. 

This is a milestone in our blessed married life.   

 

Introduction 

 

Easter Sunday in 1885 is commonly regarded as the first page of Protestant Christian 

history in Korea. On that day, the first Protestant missionaries to Korea, the Americans Horace G. Underwood (1859-1916) and Henry G. Appenzeller (1858-1902), landed in Korea. To commemorate this historic event, the Korean Church held various events and 

ceremonies celebrating the year 1984 as the “100th Anniversary of Korean Christianity.”  The climax of these ceremonial events was a huge mass service held in Yoŭido Park in Seoul where reportedly more than 200,000 people attended. Interestingly, this event was 

held on August 15, the Liberation Day celebrating Korean emancipation from Japanese 

colonial rule in 1945. The intention behind this scheduling decision was clear: to 

synchronize Korean Christian history with a national history that places the struggle against Japanese colonialism at its center. In fact, Christian struggles under Japanese rule were 

frequently mentioned in the sermons and prayers of this day and were praised as the most 

valuable service that the Korean Church has rendered to the Korean nation (minjok). 

At the same time, the ceremony highlighted the contributions by foreign 

missionaries as they walked alongside Korean Christians in serving the Korean nationalist 

cause. Han Kyŏng-jik (1902-2000), representing the Korean Church, said in his opening 

remarks: “We thank God for loving this nation and sowing the gospel seed here a century 

ago. We also thank the American Presbyterian and Methodist missionaries, and other 

missionaries from different organizations for their service to us, the Korean Church and the 

Korean nation.”   

As this ceremony clearly shows, there has long been a popular understanding in South Korea that the Korean Church was from its genesis to the present a leading 

nationalist institution which the foreign Missions served as its guardians. Loyalty to the 

nation has been widely accepted as a Christian virtue and thus it has been widely believed 

that Koreans and missionaries stood shoulder-to-shoulder against the enemy of the nation, Japanese colonialism, not only because of their common support for Korean nationalism 

but also because they were Christians. Simply put, historians of Korean Christianity have 

been loath to recognize any tension between Christianity and the tasks of modern 

nationalism.  

The centrality of the nation is a common feature of any nationalist discourse, but the Korean case is unique in that a nationalist perspective prevails in the field of Christian 

history. This stands in contrast to the usual historical pattern which finds Christians faced 

with the dilemma of being a loyal servant of a transcendental God and a loyal national 

subject. In European history, roughly speaking, Protestants solved this dilemma by 

nationalizing the Church, while Catholics rejected nationalism and maintained their 

commitment to a Universal Church irrespective of national boundaries. In Asia, however, 

where Christianity was a foreign religion, the Protestant solution of Church nationalization 

was difficult to apply. In Korea, as in Japan and China, Christianity was introduced by the 

western Missions and often collided with local nationalism due to its foreign origin, 

transnational character or association with western imperialism. Christian converts were 

thus often identified as anti-nationalists and remained a social minority.  

Previous studies have emphasized that Korea’s atypical experience of being 

colonized by non-Christian Japan instead of the Christian West made Korea different from 

other Asian nations because it prevented Christianity and the Missions from being 

identified with colonial aggression.  Instead, Christianity in Korea retained its positive 

image as a religion of the advanced, powerful, and friendly West and thus did not conflict 

with the rise of Korean nationalism, which was primarily directed against Japanese 

colonialism. Moreover, Japan’s continuous suppression of Christianity further strengthened 

the bond between anti-Japanese nationalism and Christian faith, making the Korean Church 

a breeding ground for Korean nationalism. Simply put, a consensus exists in the current 

historiography that all potential causes of conflict between Christianity and the Korean 

nation were largely cancelled out by the presence of Japanese colonialism. 

It is true that there was continuous conflict between the Japanese colonial regime 

and the Korean Church, and there were Christian nationalists who participated in 

anti-colonial activities such as the March First Movement in 1919. However, Christianity 

began to take root in Korea during the Chosŏn period (1492-1910) in the form of Catholicism in the late eighteenth century and Protestantism in the late nineteenth century, 

prior to the rise of Korean nationalism and long before the Japanese colonial period (1910-1945). Therefore, the Korean encounter with Christianity, especially in its early 

stages, was not necessarily influenced by Japanese colonialism and thus Korea did not enjoy any particular advantage with respect to other Asian countries in resolving the tension 

between Christianity and nationalism. Rather, Koreans shared the same difficulty as other 

Asian nations in adopting Christianity and the Missions as foreign intruders, while Korean Christians shared the experience of being torn apart between Christianity and nationalism, 

as these two forces continued to grow under Japanese colonial rule.  

Seen in this way, what made the experience of Korean Christians unique was not 

that they were colonized by non-Christian Japan but that they had been placed under two 

foreign masters, Christian missionaries and Japanese colonizers, both of whom tried to 

inculcate new ideas and values in Korea. Though their ideologies and methods of 

propagation were different, both missionaries and Japanese tried to create new identities for Koreans, and Korean Christians had to configure their own identity, living among and 

having frequent intercourses with both foreign masters.  

 

This dissertation aims to explicate how this unique experience of being placed 

under missionary and colonial rule affected the formation of ideological dynamics within 

the Korean Church with special attention given to its relation to Korean nationalism, and 

also how it affected the actual Christian involvement in the nationalist movement. While previous studies have narrated Korean Christian history as a smooth linear development 

toward the formation of a nationalist Korean Church, this study focuses on the complex of 

microform dynamics and tensions that existed between Korean Christianity and nationalist 

ideology and that, when viewed through a nationalist framework, have either been not fully 

comprehended or completely overlooked. Specifically, it sheds light on the foreign Mission’s influence in shaping the Korean Christian relationship to nationalism and shows 

that missionary dominance kept Korean Christians from being nationalized. Furthermore, it 

illustrates how some Korean Christians, who were gradually turned towards nationalism 

through their encounter with Japanese colonialism, had to struggle in keeping their balance 

between loyalty to the mission-dominated Church and loyalty to the nation. Ultimately, it 

shows that Christian nationalists could not sustain that balance. While some Korean Christians left the Church and often rebelled against the missionaries by participating in the 

nationalist movement, the majority of Korean Christians stayed in the Church as loyalists to 

the ecclesiastical order. In so doing, this study provides an alternative account of the 

genesis and evolution of Korean Christianity as a history of constant conflicts between 

Church and nation and argues that Christianity and nationalism were never identified with one another within the mission-dominated Church but only by Korean Christians outside 

the Church.  

 

In this dissertation, discussion of these issues proceeds in the following order. In the 

first chapter, I briefly summarize the history of the Catholic Church in Korea, which 

preceded the introduction of Protestantism in the late nineteenth century. The purpose of 

incorporating Catholic history into this study is that the social image and status of Catholicism that had already been established in Korea affected how Koreans later 

understood Protestantism. Of particular importance here is that the Catholic Mission had 

long propagated Christian faith in Korea against the legal proscription of the Chosŏn 

dynastic government, often taking advantage of French imperial power. For these reasons, 

the Chosŏn state labeled Catholicism a treacherous foreign cult and persecuted by, while Catholics subscribed to it as a transnational form of faith and as a religion of a foreign 

power whose authority superseded that of their own state.  

The second chapter shows that the tactical strategies of the Catholic Mission 

discussed in Chapter 1 were largely inherited by the American Protestant Missions and thus 

Koreans adopted Protestantism as a transnational religion sponsored by the superior power of the United States. It pays special attention to the extraterritorial rights of American 

missionaries and how such privileges helped them to establish their authority among 

Koreans, attracting many locals seeking an escape from the oppressive government of the Chosŏn dynasty. In so doing, it stresses the significance of the specific local context that led 

the early Protestant Church in Korea, like its Catholic counterpart, to draw the majority of 

its converts from the oppressed class and allowed the missionary to rule over them as their 

legal guardian.  

The third chapter discusses how hierarchical power relations between missionaries 

and Korean converts were institutionalized in the Korean Church. It details the various 

missionary prerogatives in the Korean Church and reveals how they managed to keep 

Korean converts in subordinate positions, while maintaining their claim to control the Church. An in-depth examination of the internal structure of the Church will help us to 

understand that the Korean Church was only nominally independent of the Mission and that Korean Christian agency was largely suppressed in the ecclesiastical sphere.  

The fourth chapter looks into the management of the mission school. As was true 

of the Korean Church, mission schools were also kept under missionary control for many 

years. Moreover, mission education was predominantly religious in character due to the mission policy of making schools more evangelical than educational. Hence, Korean Christians were not given many opportunities to learn broader general subjects and advance 

in western scholarship. As a result, the educational standards of Korean Christians remained 

as low as that of average non-Christians and few modern intellectuals capable of leading 

the nation were born out of the mission schools. By detailing how the Missions controlled 

the intellectual standards and orientation of Korean Christians, this chapter prepares the 

context for later chapters that examine how Korean Christian students engaged in strikes to 

demonstrate their frustration against mission school policy.  

The fifth chapter discusses the issue of national politics in the Korean Church. 

First, it portrays how the Mission defined and controlled the relationship of Korean Christians to politics and shows that it basically kept the Korean Church as aloof from 

secular politics by adopting the “separation of Church from politics” as its ecclesiastical 

principle. It also shows that this policy was sustained even as Korea came under Japanese 

rule, so that the Korean Church was not responsive to the call of nationalism promoted by 

patriotic Koreans outside the Church and was at times criticized as anti-national.    The sixth chapter treats several cases of Korean Christian challenges toward 

missionary authority. Frustrated by their secondary status in church and school, some Korean Christian leaders began to oppose the foreign missions from the 1890s onward and, 

in some cases, split the church to build an independent church outside missionary 

jurisdiction. By analyzing the causes of conflict between the missionaries and the Korean Christians, this chapter argues that nationalistic sentiments among Korean Christians were 

fermented primarily through conflict with western missionaries rather than with the Japanese colonial regime. To prove this point, it shows that some anti-missionary Christians 

actually sought an alliance with the Japanese as a means of freeing themselves from 

missionary control. In so doing, it highlights the peculiar position of Korean Christian 

leaders who had to rely on Japanese colonial power to counter the religious colonialism that 

western missionaries imposed on Korean Christianity.  

The seventh chapter deals with similar instances of resistance to missionary 

authority by Korean students and intellectuals in missionary schools and also in public 

media. These Koreans perceived the missionary’s intellectual domination over Korean Christians as a major obstacle toward achieving enlightenment and civilization, which they 

perceived as a necessary step in Korean efforts toward self-strengthening and future 

national independence. A close look at the frustrations of Korean intellectuals about the 

missionary presence in Korea will also help us understand why they perceived Japanese educational policy, especially its advanced school system, as more beneficial to Koreans 

than the mission schools.  

  The last chapter provides an alternative account of the 1919 March First Movement, often regarded as a manifestation of Korean Christian nationalism. Based on 

the findings of the previous chapters, it argues that Christian participation in the movement 

was limited not only in scale but also in terms of its regional base. This chapter shows that 

the Christian leaders who played a leading role in the movement were actually dissenters 

who had been dissatisfied with the Church’s apolitical attitude and its subordinate status to 

the foreign Mission. It also shows that Christian leaders who were loyal to the ecclesiastical 

order were quite reluctant to participate in such political activism and that the majority of Korean Christians followed their church leadership, while a minority in the northern region 

played a disproportionately large role in the movement. This chapter argues that the 

conventional understanding of the Christian role in the Movement has been exaggerated 

and that the Korean Church played a much smaller part than has been believed.  

In its concluding chapter, this dissertation provides a brief summary of post-March 

First developments in the Korean Church and shows that the schism between the Korean 

Church and the nationalist camp widened after the Movement as missionary control of the Church was reasserted and the Church became a bulwark of religious conservatism entirely 

disengaged from the secular world. Based upon these observations, this chapter reasserts 

the thesis of this study that the Korean Church had to contradict with Korean nationalism 

because it was not able to subvert the ascendency of foreign missionary authority and any 

political commitment to the nationalist cause was constantly checked and suppressed by the 

mission-dominated Church authority. In conclusion, it argues that being a loyal Christian to 

the ecclesiastical order and being a loyal Korean nationalist were incompatible identities 

under the mission-dominated Church in colonial Korea and that this circumstance led many Korean Christians to seek national salvation outside the jurisdiction of ecclesiastical 

institutions. 

  

Review of Historiography 

  The major thesis of this dissertation, that the relationship between the Korean Church and the nationalist movement in Korea was characterized by conflict, poses a bold 

challenge to the conventional scholarship on Korean Christianity. In particular, it takes 

issue with the works produced by a particular group of historians, who are commonly referred to as the scholars of the “national Church (minjok kyohoe).” It is therefore 

important to briefly review here the existing historiography on Korean Christian history. 

 

Korean-language studies  

Writing Korean history within a nationalist framework has been the dominant 

practice among Korean historians in post-colonial South Korea until recently. This practice 

began to show a marked change with the publication of Haeban chŏnhusa ŭi chae insik [New understanding of pre- and post-Liberation Korean History (2006)], which revealed a 

more complex and often collaborative dynamics between colonial power and the 

development of Korean modernity/ modernization. Nevertheless, nation-centered 

perspectives still remain dominant in historical narratives of the Korean church.  In fact, 

none of the articles in Haebang chŏnhusa ŭi chae insik deals with the question of Christianity, and the Korean Church history, based on the conventional nationalist 

framework, has been left largely untouched by the recent historiographical trend.  

Since Korean nationalism was suppressed under Japanese rule, writing Korean 

history from a nationalist perspective was an act of reviving a lost past and serving the interests of nation-building in a post-colonial context, and this attitude was fully adopted by Christian historians and writers as well. As a result, the presence of the nation or minjok 

was taken as a given premise in the post-colonial Korean Christian historiography and Christian nationalist struggles against Japanese colonial aggression were often placed at the 

center of its narrative.  

However, this trend in the writing of Korean Christian history did not begin as 

soon as Korean became liberated from Japanese rule in 1945. While numerous writings on 

the Korean nationalist movement were published upon independence through the 1950s, 

there was actually a paucity of studies on Korean Christian history that stressed Christian 

contributions to national development during this same period. It is true that the Christian 

backgrounds of some prominent nationalist leaders such as An Ch’ang-ho and Yi Sŭng-hun 

were mentioned in their biographical sketches,  but no substantial study focusing on the 

nationalist aspect of the Korean Church was published through the 1950s.  

There were several reasons for this lacuna, but the primary reason was likely the 

internal division of the Korean Church over the issue of pro-Japanese collaboration. It was no secret that, during the last stage of the colonial period, many Korean Christian leaders 

collaborated with the Japanese war effort. As a result, some of the top church leaders were 

arrested and interrogated by the special investigation committee by the post-liberation 

government in South Korea.  Also, the majority of Korean Church leaders had surrendered 

to Japanese pressure to worship at Shinto shrines and their compromise came under harsh 

attack by the minority of non-conformist Church leaders who were released from Japanese 

imprisonment after national liberation. This serious internal strife over the collaboration 

issue continued to shake the Korean Church both from within and without, and eventually 

resulted in a series of church splits during the 1950s.  In short, the Korean Church was far 

from being sufficiently united to claim nationalist credentials for its colonial past and was 

barely qualified to present itself as a leading nationalist institution under the political 

climate of the time.    

The unfavorable political situation for the Church began to change in the 1960s 

after Park Chung-hee (1917-1979) established his new regime after the military coup in 1961. Park made rapid economic growth the primary goal of his administration and 

mobilized the entire nation toward that purpose. Under his dictatorial leadership, national 

unity was promoted to achieve economic development and the idea of service to the nation 

was propagated in every corner of life, while voices of dissent that were seen as 

undermining national integrity were harshly suppressed.  

It was with this general rise of national consciousness in Korean society that Kim 

Yang-sŏn, a Presbyterian historian, published an article, The March First Movement and Christianity [Samil undong kwa kidok kyohoe], in 1969. He contributed this article to the 

collection of papers that was compiled by a popular newspaper, Tonga Ilbo, for the 

commemoration of the fiftieth anniversary of the March First Movement, the first national 

uprising against Japanese rule in 1919. In this article, Kim not only emphasized the Christian contribution to the historic national movement but generalized it as a consistent 

characteristic of Korean Christianity, going as far to say that “Korean nationalism was fostered by Christianity.”  Considering that the Korean Church was divided over the issue 

of collaboration in the 1950s, Kim’s confidence was a good indication that the historical 

memory of the Korean Christian past was being revised with the rise of Korean nationalism. The Korean Church was now going on the offensive to claim its nationalist credentials and 

asserted that Christianity and Korean nationalism went along with each other and the March First Movement was reinterpreted as the manifestation of Korean Christian 

nationalism.  

Christian propaganda stressing its historical affinity with Korean nationalism 

gained significant momentum in the 1970s. In 1972, Min Kyŏng-bae, a church historian, 

published the first comprehensive History of the Korean Christian Church (Han’guk kidok 

kyohoe sa), in which he narrated Korean Church history as a story of consistent Christian 

service to the nation.  His nationalist perspective was clearly manifested in his use of a 

new term, minjok kyohoe, which he used to identify the fundamental character of the Korean Church that had been sustained throughout its history. Literally, minjok kyohoe is 

the combination of “nation” and “church” in the Korean language, but it means more than what “national church” usually means in English. Since minjok specifically refers to the Koreans as a race or an ethnic group,10 minjok kyohoe presents a highly exclusive image of 

the Church that consisted of ethnic Koreans and was solely concerned with Korean 

nationals. Hence, when Min argued that the Korean Church developed as minjok kyohoe, 

his implication was that the Korean Church was always a nationalist institution. This grand 

thesis was reasserted in several revised versions of Min’s work,11 and the image of the Church as a nationalist institution was firmly established.  

  To be fair, Min does not simply glorify the Christian past. He admits that the Church made mistakes and had to face “disgraces” such as instances of wartime 

collaboration with the Japanese empire among its leadership. However, he does not dare to 

question the validity of his basic premise that the minjok was the fundamental and 

consistent concern of the Korean Church. Thus, his teleological understanding of Korean Christian history as a linear development toward the formation of the minjok kyohoe 

appears to be more a belief than an empirically tested argument.  

                                                   

10

 For more detailed discussion about the ethno-based understanding of nation in Korea, see 

Gi-Wook Shin, Ethnic nationalism in Korea : genealogy, politics, and legacy, Studies of the Walter H. Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2006) 11

 Min Kyŏng-bae, Han'guk kidok kyohoesa (sin kaejŏn p'an). For the English translation, see Min Kyoung Bae, A History of Christian Churches in Korea (Seoul: Yonsei University Press, 2005). 

Min’s minjok kyohoe concept left a profound impact on other historians, including 

but not limited to church historians, who were interested in the relationship of Korean Christianity to nationalism. While Min’s work focused mainly on the Church as its major 

object of study, the historian Yi Man-yŏl and his study group, specializing in “Korean 

national history” (kuksa), ventured to expand their scope of study and made a series of 

surveys on the various social, cultural and intellectual movements led by Christians from 

the late nineteenth century to the early twentieth century.  Certainly, these scholars made a 

significant historiographical contribution by broadening the range of studies on Korean Christianity. Their interpretive framework, however, was no different from Min’s. In fact, 

their method and goal was to search for nationalist traits in Christian-led movements and 

put them together to buttress the established narrative, stated implicitly or explicitly, that Korean Christians were nationalists.  

   

English-language studies 

While Korean scholars emphasized the historical affinity between the Church and 

nationalism, foreign missionaries and their descendants, who left behind many writings on Korea that range from personal recollections to more academic essays, showed virtually no 

interest in the relationship of Christianity to nationalism.  Their writings are mostly 

concerned with their personal experiences in Korea and are inclined to focus solely on 

ecclesiastical affairs. The political and social issues in Korea and their potential influence 

on Korean Christian development attracted little attention from missionary scholars and 

writers. Needless to say, they had no dialogue with Korean scholars in the field, who tended 

to approach Korean Christian history from a completely different perspective. 

Here it is important to note that the lack of missionary interest in Korean 

nationalism and the paucity of their dialogue with Korean scholars in the same field is 

actually a legacy of the historical tension between the Mission and the Korean Church, 

which this study discusses. The missionary’s indifference or hostility to Korean nationalism, 

contrasted with the embrace of nationalism by Korean intellectual elites, was no 

post-colonial phenomenon; it was inherited from the colonial period.  

      With the growing interest in the rapid Christianization of Korea from the 1970s 

onward, there emerged a number of studies in English-language scholarship to explain the 

factors behind phenomenal Church growth. As part of this endeavor, some studies sought possible answers in the history of the Korean Church. However, these studies were mainly 

carried out by Korean or Korean-American scholars who had access to Korean-language 

scholarship and tended to translate the arguments of Korean scholarship into English, rather 

than using their command of Korean for the purposes of innovative research. The 

consequence was, needless to say, the continuation of the nationalist perspective that had 

already been established in Korea.   

  This uncritical reception of Korean scholarship has also been common in several English-language monograph studies on Korean Christianity. Kenneth Wells, for instance, 

generally accepts the claim that “Protestants were involved in most phases and streams of 

the nationalistic movement in Korea” from the late nineteenth century through the Japanese 

colonial period.” Nevertheless, Wells expresses reservations about the division of Korean Protestants in Korea across a wide range of political approaches, some of which were 

mutually antagonistic, and admits that it is actually “difficult to identify any specific Protestant contribution to Korean nationalism.”  Therefore, to refine his argument, he 

selected a single group of Protestants who “did directly influence the formation of at least 

one stream of nationalism: self-construction or ‘ethical’ nationalism”   by which he meant 

those who sought to “build a modern nation-state whose identity centered on the attainment 

of a democratic, self-reliant, ‘Christian society’ through spiritual renewal, moral 

reformation, and purposeful action.”   

Though the detailed account and analysis of this group of Protestants is interesting 

and insightful, Well’s work is in agreement with the conventional Korean scholarship that 

identifies Christianity with Korean nationalism. He shares the same assumption that “Protestant” nationalist leaders could be “Church” leaders and is silent on the question of 

whether nationalism was institutionally supported by the Church or simply embraced by 

particular Christian individuals as a personal creed. Moreover, since his approach is 

grounded more in intellectual history than social history, important “on the ground” issues 

such as the social and cultural tension between the Mission and the Korean Church receive 

scant attention.  

By contrast, Park Chung-shin pays more attention to the socio-political 

circumstances of the colonial period and traces how external conditions affected the course 

of Korean church development. Nonetheless, while Park’s social historical approach is 

somewhat new, his understanding of the Korean Church’s relations to nationalism remains 

entirely orthodox. He simply adopts the conventional claim that Protestant Christianity in Korea “established a strong ideological and organizational relationship with the Korean 

nationalist movement” and asserts that “the religious community served as a rally point for 

fervent nationalists striving for independence” and “Church leaders enthusiastically 

supported those nationalists who used the religious community as a base of operations; 

some even initiated anti-Japanese activities.”  Again, Christian nationalists are identified 

with “Church leaders” and the “Church” is presumed to be a nationalist institution from top 

to bottom without any account for the foreign missionary presence in the Church and their 

power relations with the Protestant nationalists.  

Timothy Lee’s recent publication, Born Again: Evangelicalism in Korea, also 

follows the convention in finding that the major reason for Christian growth during the colonial period was the close interaction between the Church and nationalism.  His main 

argument throughout the book is that “evangelical” character, by which he generally meant 

its fundamentalist orientation, was always distinct in the Korean Christian movement. However, Lee does not discuss whether such “evangelical” character could really fit the 

demands of Korean nationalism, nor does he pay much attention to how missionaries, the 

teachers of “evangelical” Christianity, responded this vision of unifying “evangelicalism” 

and “nationalism”.  

In sum, the major English-language studies on Korean Christianity so far has 

presented no distinctive interpretation of the Korean Christian relation to nationalism. 

 

Japanese-language Studies  

Due to a general lack of interest in Korean studies in postwar Japanese academia, Japanese scholars did not produce in-depth studies of Korean Christianity until the 1970s, 

when Japanese progressive intellectuals, including some leading Christians, began to take 

interest in the democratization movement in Korea. They began to provide support for the Korean Christians who were the movement’s leaders, while importing knowledge from 

them about Korean Christian history.  

Sawa Masahiko’s History of Korean Christianity (Chōsen kirisutokyōshi ron) is the 

first monograph on Korean Christian history written by a Japanese scholar writing after the 

colonial period. Having studied in Korea during the 1970s, Sawa partially subscribed to the 

nation-centered view of Christian history, but qualified his agreement by clearly 

differentiating between the contributions of the Korean Church as a national institution, and 

those of individual Korean Christians, to Korean nationalism.  Nonetheless, his early 

death did not allow him to develop his initial question about the relationship of Korean Christianity to nationalism and provide a clear alternative to the conventional Korean 

scholarship.  Kurata Masahiko also studied in Korea after Sawa and paid much attention to the study of Korean Christian resistance to Japanese imperial ideology, which eventually 

led him to stand closer to the Korean nationalist historiography than Sawa.  

Besides these minister-historians, Iinuma Jirō and Han Sŏk-hŭi, writing as 

Protestant laymen, have produced a series of studies on the Japanese Christian missions to Korea during the colonial period.  These studies were meaningful as they addressed a 

topic that had been overlooked by scholars outside Korea, but the crucial limitation of their 

research is that they dealt with only Japanese sources and did not consult Korean sources to 

provide a more balanced description of these missions. This is not to say that their study 

was apologetic to Japanese colonialism or too favorable to the goodwill of Japanese Christians. To the contrary, Iinuma and Han were so critical of Japanese colonialism that 

they simply renounced the Japanese missionaries to Korea as imperial agents who served Japanese colonialism, while making no investigation of why some Korean Christians, 

presumably nationalists, were attracted to the Japanese Church. Their primary interest was 

to critique the Japanese Church, not the Korean Church, and therefore they did not venture 

to challenge the dominant framework of Korean Christian history.  

A recent study by Yi Sŏng-jŏn details the development of mission education in 

colonial Korea, but focuses entirely upon mission schools and does not provide a general 

picture how Korean nationalism developed in the process of Korean Christian 

development.  Moreover, Yi adopts the conventional view that the mission school 

contributed to the rise of Korean nationalism by providing modern education and thus 

conflicted with Japanese colonial authority. Hence, like English-language scholarship, Japanese-language scholarship has not yet produced any alternative to the Korean-language 

historiographical view of the relationship between Christianity and nationalism in Korea. 

   

Chapter 1  Catholic Tradition in Korea 

   

Historians of Korean Protestantism commonly mention Catholic history in Korea 

as a prologue for Protestant history. In their narratives, Korean Catholics are depicted as the 

harbingers of a Protestant faith introduced to Korea a century after the arrival of 

Catholicism. While the synthesis of Korea’s Catholic and Protestant history may appear to 

be the fruit of the ecumenical sprit of Christian historians, in many cases, it is rather the 

product of a nationalist inspiration that views Catholic history as a part of Korea’s national 

history. In this view, it is presumed that both Catholics and Protestants shared the same Korean national identity regardless of the difference in their church traditions and thus had 

to be integrated into a single national history seen from the perspective of the Korean 

minjok. 

However, Protestant historians stress their distinction from the Catholics on one 

point: their degree of loyalty to the nation. The Protestant understanding is that Korean Catholics failed to develop their Christian faith along lines parallel to that of Korean 

nationalism and that Protestants succeeded this incomplete project and brought it to fruition. Hence, the significance of Catholic history ceases with the development of the nationalist Protestant Church and in fact, Korean Protestant history no longer mentions Catholic 

history after the arrival of Protestantism in Korea, as if Catholicism itself had entirely 

disappeared from the Korean peninsula.  Nonetheless, Catholicism continued to grow 

alongside Protestantism and the historical precedent in Korea left many legacies inherited 

by Korean Protestantism. In fact, as this chapter makes clear, it is impossible to understand 

the genesis and development of Protestant Christianity in Korea without first examining the Catholic missions that preceded them.   

 

Origins of the Catholic Church in Korea 

Catholicism was first introduced to the Korean peninsula from China where Jesuits 

priests had settled and propagated their teachings since the sixteenth century. Chinese 

translations of Catholic teaching and philosophy were constantly being imported into Korea 

by Korean governmental envoys making seasonal visits to present tribute to the suzerain 

state of China and bringing back various Chinese products and works of scholarship upon 

their return. In Korea, imported Catholic books were studied by Confucian scholars and known as Western Learning (sŏhak).  In the beginning, Western Learning was received 

more as a new form of scholarship than as a religion. Highly educated scholar-officials 

studied Western Learning to expand their intellectual horizons and many found that it 

shared some common tenets with the state orthodoxy of Neo-Confucianism and thus could 

complement traditional Confucian philosophy rather than simply negate it.   

However, there soon emerged a group of scholars who took Western Learning as a 

new guiding principle in their social and religious life. They not only held group studies of Catholic books but began to transform their way of life according to Catholic doctrine. These scholars desired to learn more about Catholic teaching and sought the chance to 

establish contact with Catholic missionaries in China. Eventually they succeeded in 

enlisting one of their group members, Yi Sŭng-hun (1756-1801), in the seasonal tributary 

envoy to Beijing in 1783. Arriving in Beijing, Yi visited the Catholic missionary in 

residence and received baptism there, thus becoming the first Korean convert to Catholic 

Christianity.  After returning home, Yi took a more active part in disseminating Catholic doctrine and even baptized his friends in the Catholic community in the absence of foreign 

missionaries in Korea.  

The fact that the first Catholic converts were born before the Catholic foreign 

mission was established in Korea is often interpreted as proof of Korean initiative in the 

church’s formation and thus as a testament to the independent spirit of the nation.  However, it should not be overlooked that early Korean Catholics recognized the 

ecclesiastical authority of the Roman Catholic Church and thus desired to establish direct 

connection with the foreign Catholic priests in China. In other words, Korean converts not 

only embraced the new foreign religion voluntarily but also submitted to the institutional 

order of the Catholic Church without having to be persuaded to do so by missionaries.    In fact, Korean Catholic loyalty to Rome was consistent with the subsequent 

development of the Church in Korea. For instance, Yi soon stopped administering 

sacramental rites for fellow Koreans when he was told by the Catholic authorities in Beijing 

that he was not qualified to do so except for baptism.  Since there was no ordained priest 

in Korea, this meant that Koreans were deprived of the right to administer any sacramental rites until foreign priests would later arrive in Korea. A more revealing example is the 

abolishment of ancestral worship under the ecclesiastical order from Beijing. As mentioned 

above, the first Catholic converts did not think that Catholicism was incompatible with 

Neo-Confucianism and did not regard ancestral worship as violating Catholic doctrine. However, when cautioned by the Church in Beijing that ancestor worship constituted a sin 

against God’s commandment not to engage in idol worship, the Korean converts loyally 

followed these instructions and entirely discontinued practice of this social ritual. Their 

loyalty to the religious cause was most dramatically demonstrated by Yun Chi-ch’ung (1759-1791) and Kwŏn Sang-yŏn (1751-1791) in 1791, in the Chinsan Incident, when the 

two scholar-converts burnt the ancestral tablets of their parents in public.  In Neo-Confucian society, where filial piety was a cardinal virtue, the discontinuation of 

ancestral worship was a bold challenge to the public order. Because filial piety was also 

cherished as the foundation of the popular loyalty to the king, the father of all subjects, 

neglecting ancestor worship was taken as a treacherous act.    

From this incident forward, the Chosŏn dynasty began to take oppressive measures 

against Catholicism. It regarded Catholicism as an anti-social and anti-governmental cult manipulated by foreign priests and prohibited it under state law. Catholic leaders such as Yun and Kwŏn were soon arrested and executed for the violation of public law and order, 

while others were banished to rural provinces and remote islands. The state also stopped the 

circulation of Catholic books and enforced book burnings in public places.  Moreover, the 

state devised a new system of mutual censorship in each village and mandated that villagers 

to report to the authority.   

  Under persecution, many converts became apostates, including the first convert, Yi Sŭng-hun, but the Catholic community as a whole never died out. Rather, it survived 

underground and risked death in remaining loyal to the faith. Contemporary police reports 

show that Catholic converts were convinced that the Christian God, whom they called 

Ch’ŏnju (Heavenly Lord) in Korean, had higher authority than the state or king. Kwŏn Sang-yŏn, for example, stated that “the teaching of Ch’ŏnju is highly majestic, so even if I 

violate the commandments of king and parents I cannot deny the teaching of Ch’ŏnju,”  clarifying his belief that loyalty to God held primacy over his attachment to state and 

family.  

Korean Catholics at that time were taught that it is the duty of a believer to be 

loyal to the king and obey the orders of the state,  but Catholic loyalty to the state was 

premised on the condition that the state also fulfills its duty to provide good governance 

and protect the people’s living as well as the Church. Therefore, when the state failed to 

fulfill this duty, Korean Catholics had a basis upon which they could justify their resistance 

to state authority and follow the Church.   

Korean Catholic loyalty to the Church over the state was most clearly 

demonstrated in a famous incident in 1801, generally known as Hwang Sa-yŏng’s Silk 

Letter Incident. As the most prominent and respected scholar of the Catholic community, Hwang Sa-yŏng (1775-1801) was forced into hiding when the Chosŏn state began its 

persecution of Catholics. While hiding in a cave, he wrote a secret letter to the French 

Bishop in Beijing asking for help. In this letter, Hwang requested that the Bishop ask the 

Pope to influence the Qing emperor to order the Korean king to grant religious freedom for the Catholics in Korea.  In addition, Hwang asked the Bishop to dispatch foreign 

gunboats to Korea and intimidate the Korean king into granting religious freedom to his 

subjects.  Moreover, he provided geographic and other strategic information on Korea to 

assist with this foreign intervention.   

This letter clearly shows that the Korean Catholics fully trusted the ultimate 

authority of the Catholic Church above that of their own state. They understood the world 

in terms of a hierarchical system in which the Holy See was positioned on the top and the Chinese emperor and the Korean king were below in descending order. Hence, they 

naturally expected that the Chinese emperor would obey papal instruction and exercise his 

power over the vassal state of Korea accordingly. Moreover, if the Korean king failed to 

obey the higher order, the Catholics thought he deserved punishment and that the foreign 

conquest of Korea would bring a better day for them.  

From the viewpoint of the Chosŏn state, Hwang’s letter provided indisputable 

proof of Catholic treason. The government was now fully convinced that Catholicism was a treacherous cult that had to be exterminated. Following this event, governmental 

persecution became more severe and merciless. The hard measures adopted by the 

government, however, ended up strengthening Catholic resolve to report their dire situation 

in Korea to the missionaries in China in order to petition for foreign intervention on their 

behalf. In one such attempt, a Korean Catholic leader, Chŏng Ha-sang (1795-1839), wrote a 

petition to the Pope in which he asked the Vatican to send missionaries directly to Korea 

and rescue the local Catholics suffering persecution. Eventually, the petition was heeded by 

the Holy See and the Pope ordered the establishment of the Vicariate Apostolic in Korea in 1831, while appointing the Society of Foreign Missions of Paris [La Societe de Mission 

Etrangeres de Paris] to take charge.  The Society soon dispatched several missionaries to Korea through China and one of them, Philbert Mauban, successfully smuggled himself 

into the country in 1836 against the seclusion policy of the Chosŏn government.  Other French missionaries soon followed him and began to organize the local Catholics 

underground, giving them religious instructions and administering baptisms.  In order to 

avoid arrest by the police, the missionaries always disguised themselves in the traditional garb of Korean mourners.  According to Confucian custom, mourners were neither to 

speak nor to be spoken to on the street and thus provided the best means for the French 

missionaries to engage in clandestine proselytization. 

 

French and American Intervention 

The domestic Catholic communities were greatly revived and empowered by the 

foreign missionary presence, but it naturally alarmed the Chosŏn state that Catholics were 

conspiring against the dynasty using foreign aid. The Chosŏn state thus repeatedly launched 

harsh anti-Catholic campaigns and executed many believers, including French missionaries, 

whenever their underground presence was discovered. From 1838 to 1841, more than two 

hundred Catholics were killed by decapitation, hanging, and torture.  All of the three French priests who had been underground were arrested and beheaded on the public 

execution ground in Seoul.   

The execution of the French missionaries was soon reported to the French embassy 

in China, as many Korean Catholics escaped the country and fled to find refuge there. Upon 

receiving the news, Admiral Cecille sent a letter to the Korean king to ask for an 

explanation and French man-of-war would be sent to hear his response next year. 

Accordingly, the French frigate was dispatched to Korea in 1846 with some Korean Catholics on board.  The return of Korean Catholics in the French gunboat convinced the 

state once again of Catholic collaboration with foreign aggressors and fueled its 

anti-Catholic hatred. Though the French naval demonstration did not lead to a direct 

military confrontation with Korea at this time, it led the Chosŏn state to intensify its 

persecution of Catholicism. 

By the mid-nineteenth century, the Chosŏn state’s suspicion that domestic 

Catholics would invite foreign invasion was becoming a reality in its neighboring state of China. During the Second Opium War in 1857, the French and British expedition forces not 

only invaded China and occupied Beijing but also imposed the Treaty of Tianjin, by which 

the Chinese government was mandated to recognize the Christian religion, both Catholic and Protestant, and also to protect Chinese converts as well as foreign missionaries.  The 

detailed report of the war and its aftermath was soon sent to Korea by the annual Korean 

tributary envoy to Beijing. The news of China’s defeat was a great shock to Korean elites, 

who long admired the Central Kingdom as its sovereign. According to the Catholic 

missionary report, some among Korea’s wealthy and leisure class, upon hearing the news, 

fled to the mountains thinking that foreign troops would soon arrive in Seoul.    It is in this socio-political context that the Taewŏn’gun (1820-1898), who assumed 

power in 1861 as the regent for a minor king, took a hard-line diplomatic position and 

strengthened the dynasty’s traditional anti-foreign and anti-Catholic policy. Believing that 

expulsion of all foreign elements in Korea was the best means to secure his dynasty he ordered the mass arrest of Catholics in 1866. This persecution lasted for several years and 

resulted in the execution of more than 8,000 Catholics, including nine French 

missionaries.  The frightening news of the Catholic massacre was quickly relayed to Catholic authorities in China by Korean refugees and resulted in yet another French 

military intervention. This time the French government not only sent expeditionary forces 

but also demanded that the Korean government turn over the ministers who ordered the 

massacre and also enter treaty negotiations. When this demand was ignored by the Chosŏn 

government, the French forces invaded Kanghwa Island in the vicinity of the capital Seoul 

and looted the detached royal palace there.  However, due to the limited number of troops 

and the fierce resistance put up by Chosŏn soldiers, the French invasion did not advance on Seoul but instead withdrew to China.  

Meanwhile, shortly before the French invasion, the American Commercial boat, 

General Sherman, had also entered Taedong River to approach Pyŏngyang in northern Korea and had a military skirmish with the Korean defense force. Korean soldiers attacked 

and set fire to the boat when the boat shipwrecked on the shallow floor of the river, killing all the crew on board, including a Scottish Protestant missionary.  Like the French, the 

Americans also returned in four warships to protest the burning of the General Sherman in 1871 and exchanged fire with the Korean soldiers in Kanghwa Island. The Americans 

occupied a fortress on the island, killing around 200 Korean soldiers, but soon withdrew to 

Chefoo in China.  

Successful defense bolstered Taewŏn’gun’s confidence in his seclusion policy. He 

commemorated the victory by building a stone stele on which he inscribed, “Expel the 

barbarians and protect Confucian orthodoxy. Those who seek peace with the barbarians 

must be killed,” and ordered the same stele to be built all over the country.  In this way, Catholicism in Korea was considered the most dangerous subversive cult and identified 

with those who would collaborate with foreign (and especially French and American) 

invasions. Hence, there was no room for Catholicism to gain governmental recognition in 

the nineteenth century. Catholicism was branded from beginning to end as an anti-state and 

anti-social force and strongly disdained for its foreign affiliation.  

 

Catholic Status in the Chosŏn Society 

Despite a century of bloody persecution, the Catholic communities were not 

completely uprooted. Rather, they survived underground with the support of a continuous 

supply of missionaries dispatched s from abroad. However, continuous long-term 

persecution brought significant changes to the Korean Catholic community. First, the 

aristocratic yangban Catholics, who provided leadership in the early stages, were all killed 

and eliminated from the state bureaucracy during the persecutions. Even those who 

survived were deprived of their economic wealth during exile or imprisonment and lost 

their previous social status.  Consequently, the majority of the community members were 

gradually occupied by the lower social status groups such as the chungin (mostly 

practitioners of skilled professions such as medicine, paintings, mathematics and astronomy, 

etc.) and yangmin class (farmers, merchants and artisans).  This is also evidenced by the 

fact that the royal edict of 1839 to prohibit Catholicism was written in part using the 

Korean alphabet (hangŭl), which was used primarily by the less educated class.  Since the majority of Catholic believers were composed of those who could not comprehend classical Chinese, the official language and lingua franca of intellectuals at that time, the government 

had to write the edict in the vernacular, hangŭl. Second, leadership of the Catholic 

community was retained by the French missionaries as they arrived to organize the 

underground church. Since there were no Korean priests who possessed the ecclesiastical 

right to administer mass and other rituals, converts had no choice but to rely on foreign 

priests who were few in number and not always available. Lastly, we should note the 

repeated persecution of scattered Catholic communities all over the country. In order to 

escape from the constant state of surveillance, Catholics had to flee their villages and seek 

refuge in the mountains and other remote areas in the rural provinces where they lived a life 

of seclusion.  The first Catholic community was originally formed in Chŏlla, 

Ch’ungch’ong and Kyŏnggi Province in the south, but it was scattered to other provinces 

such Kangwŏn and Kyŏngsang by persecution and the number of Catholic converts totaled 

around 17,000 by the middle of the nineteenth century.    

  

Freedom of Religion under Unequal Treaty 

The anti-Catholic atmosphere subsided after King Kojong (1852-1919) replaced 

the Taewŏn’gun in 1873. The new king soon abandoned the traditional seclusion policy due 

to increasing pressure from the surrounding powers and signed Korea’s first open port 

treaty with Japan in 1876 and then with the United States in 1882. Nonetheless, the Chosŏn 

government was determined to maintain its anti-Catholic policy even after opening the 

country to foreign intercourse. It actually made efforts to exclude any provision from the US-Korean treaty that would guarantee freedom of religion. Later, it permitted foreigners to 

practice their own faith in the designated foreign concessions in the Anglo-Korean Treaty 

of 1883,  but it never recognized the right of foreigners to disseminate their religion to Koreans. In short, the new treaties opened up Korea to foreign trade, but not to Christianity, 

and the American Protestant missionaries, who began to arrive in Korea from 1885 onward, 

had to remain in the treaty port and wait until the Chosŏn government lifted the ban on Christianity. But the lack of a treaty between Korea and France meant that Catholic 

missionaries on the peninsula were technically still at risk of punishment for their illegal 

residence, while other foreign citizens were not. French missionaries in China had 

requested the French government to sign a treaty agreement with the Chosŏn government in 

order to secure the legal status of missionaries in Korea, but actual negotiations did not 

begin until May 1886, when the French Minister in Beijing, Congordan, was dispatched to 

Korea and met with the Korean Foreign Minister, Kim Yun Sik.  

As the security of the catholic missionaries was at stake, the French government 

did not easily concede the right of its citizens to propagate religion in Korea. Instead, the French Minister made this issue the main agenda of negotiations and made several specific 

demands that would facilitate the French Catholic mission: To grant freedom for Koreans 

to practice Catholicism; allow the missionaries to travel freely in the country and purchase 

land; permit Catholics to build churches, schools, hospitals and cemeteries in sufficient 

number that corresponds to the Catholic population ratio; and pay financial compensation 

of one million franc for the damages incurred upon the Catholic Church in Korea during the 

past persecutions and build a memorial stone at the expense of the Chosŏn government as a 

means to express the official apology for the martyred French missionaries.  Such 

demands were too radical and humiliating for the Chosŏn government to accept. Adopting 

all of them would have required the complete revision of its century-long anti-Catholic policy and the virtual recognition of French jurisdiction over domestic Catholics in Korea. The Korean Minister rejected the French demand at once and negotiations were suspended 

for almost a month without any further development. In the event, when negotiations came 

close to breaking down, the French government made a concession and gave up the treaty’s 

clause for religious freedom. Instead, it prioritized securing the legal right of residence of 

missionaries by inserting the following article. 

 

Subjects of either nationality who may proceed to the country of the other to study or teach [note -- professer in original] its language, literature, laws, arts or industries…shall be afforded to every reasonable facility for doing so.  

 

    This article was a copy of article nine of the Anglo-Korean Treaty, ratified the 

previous year, with an addition of “teach” after “study.” The French intention behind this 

minor revision was to provide an official and legitimate reason for missionaries to enter Korea as teachers of the French language and allow them to disguise their religious 

proselytizing under the pretense of language teaching. While there was no consensus 

between the two governments over the meaning of this article, the French Minister was 

confident that the Korean government could no longer persecute the missionaries once they 

retained the legal status of language teachers, and encouraged Bishop Blanc, the head of the French Catholic mission in Korea, to obtain an official passport from the Korean 

government and travel the country under the protection of the new treaty.   

Besides freedom of travel, the greatest benefit the French obtained by this treaty 

was the right of extraterritoriality, which was stipulated in previous treaties between the Chosŏn government and other powers and thus automatically extended to French citizens 

by virtue of the most-favored-nation clause. Consequently, French missionaries were 

exempted from Korean jurisdiction and no longer punishable by Korean authority, even if 

they were charged with disseminating the illegal religion of Christianity. Instead, they were 

to be judged in the French consular court where they could expect lenient treatment since 

their home government was fully supportive of their mission work. In sum, the Franco-Korean treaty did not win freedom of religion per se, but granted missionaries a 

legal safeguard, while allowing the Korean government not to permit Christian 

propagation. 

Unaware of the French intention to use the “language teaching” clause to justify 

mission work, the Chosŏn government was upset when French missionaries came out of 

hiding with the ratification of the treaty in 1887. Accordingly, it attempted to prevent missionaries from openly traveling around the country. For instance, the magistrate of Wŏnsan, one of the first three treaty ports, did not permit a French missionary, Father Deguette, to enter the city regardless of his having an official passport. Moreover, the 

magistrate ordered the arrest of a dozen local Catholics for their affiliation with Deguette 

and sent them to Seoul for trial.   

The expansion of the Catholic mission without the consent of the Korean 

government resulted in more violent conflict between the missionaries and local residents. 

In Chŏnju, Chŏlla Province, some local leaders agitated the anti-Catholic mob and beat a 

French missionary, Father Baudounet, who visited the town with two Korean Catholics.65 Similarly, in the vicinity of Taegu, Kyŏngsang Province, a local mob stormed and 

destroyed an inn where Father Robert was staying. When the French missionary fled into Taegu city to ask for governmental protection, the magistrate rejected the request. Consequently, the missionary and his followers were chased by hundreds of rioters and 

narrowly escaped death.  With the report of this incident, the French Legation demanded the Korean government punish the responsible officials, compensate the missionary and 

force the local governments to respect the treaty rights.    

However, the Chosŏn government held that it had the right to punish those who 

violated Korean law and rejected the French demand for the abolishment of anti-Catholic 

law.68 Moreover, the Korean government also sabotaged efforts to stop anti-Catholic 

violence and local authorities continued their anti-Catholic agitation. In 1891, the 

magistrate of Kijang, Kyŏngsang Province, posted an official notice on the public bulletin 

board that all foreign missionaries should be killed for disseminating their evil religion.  This incident again caused a strong protest from the French legation and the Korean Foreign Office promised to investigate the case. Nonetheless, a similar incident occurred 

the following year in Ichŏn, Kyŏnggi Province, where the magistrate officially denounced Catholicism as a subversive cult and warned the populace not to follow it.  Such explicit 

instigation at the government level appears to have encouraged anti-Catholic violence at the 

popular level. In fact, the following year, in Suwon, not far from Ichŏn, Father Wilhelm 

was beaten by a local thug without cause, while Father Lafoucade in Kangwŏn Province 

was attacked by members of the local merchant guild (pobusang), who were often hired to 

execute private revenge at that time.     

  The growing visibility of French missionaries and their interaction with local Catholics reaffirmed the prevailing common perception that Catholics were subverting 

society using foreign aid. Therefore, Korean Catholics became easy prey for local violence, 

especially when they were seen with French missionaries. In 1891 alone, anti-Catholic 

violence was reported in Changsŏng (Chŏlla Province),Yŏmp’o (Kyŏngsang) and 

Yangyang (Kangwŏn).  Also, in Samga (Kyŏngsang) in 1892 and Puyŏ 

(Ch’ungch’chong) in 1893, Catholic families were robbed by villagers and even though 

they sued the violators, their appeal was dismissed.  When the Tonghak, the followers of 

an anti-foreign indigenous religion, rose up against the Chosŏn government in 1894, they 

targeted Catholics as well as corrupt officials. The major cause of the rebellion was heavy 

taxation and abuse of power by the local government, but the peasant rebels also 

maintained a strong anti-foreign posture and united under the slogan, “Expel Western and Japanese barbarians.” One of the appeals they posted on the street in Seoul clearly 

designated Catholics as “beasts” and demanded that they should abandon the heterodox 

teaching.  Actually, the rebels often attacked local Catholics during their campaigns 

against the local government. They burnt and sacked the missionary residence and many 

Catholic households in Yangchŏn, Nosŏng and other towns in Ch’ungch’ong Province.  Even after the rebellion was suppressed by government forces, some surviving Tonghaks 

continued to attack Catholics individually in places such as Suwŏn and Poŭn.    In sum, the treaty did not change traditional anti-Catholic sentiments either at the 

government or popular levels, nor did it produce any right to freedom of religion. Rather, 

the growing visibility of missionaries acting without legal sanction exacerbated traditional 

fear and prejudice against Catholics and ignited anti-Catholic violence across the country. 

   

The Church as Refuge 

In spite of the persisting anti-Catholic climate, the French missionaries no longer 

accepted the limitations imposed on them as quietly as they did during the era of open persecution. Even if they were still vulnerable to uncontrolled violence at the local level, 

they now possessed at least the legal right to stay in Korea and demand that the Korean 

government provide due protection through the French legation. They could even demand 

compensation for damages they suffered at the hands of local mobs. In fact, as they kept 

filing official protests against the Korean governmental negligence for protecting the 

missionaries, the Korean government gradually came to terms with their demand and 

instructed local governments in 1893 not to abuse local Catholics on the reasoning that they 

too were the “children of His Majesty.”  Though such orders did not have an immediate 

effect in subduing anti-Catholic violence, it was gradually recognized by the local populace 

that the missionaries held power to negotiate with the government and could bring 

punishment against local persecutors of Catholics.   

As the foreign privilege of extraterritoriality was recognized, native Catholics who 

had long been abused by the local anti-Catholic forces began to seek refuge in the Catholic 

missions. They flocked around the missionaries in the hope that they too could be exempted 

from Korean jurisdiction if they came under foreign authority. Thus, there were even some 

cases in which former members of the anti-foreign Tonghaks joined the Catholic Church to disguise their identity and avoid government suppression or evade taxation.  In fact, the 

French missionaries embraced such Catholic refugees on principle and shielded them from 

Korean government persecution. Moreover, whenever local officials imprisoned Catholics, French missionaries would demand the release of the native Catholics to the government 

and often won them back with support from the French legation.   

On the other hand, as missionary power gained social recognition, some Catholics 

took advantage of the foreign presence to assert their interests against non-Catholics. For 

instance, Catholics brought in French missionaries in land disputes and threatened their 

non-Catholic counterparts in 1893.  Next year, in Sŏnchŏn, a Catholic lynched the 

non-Catholic neighbors in the village, claiming that he was granted the right to do so from a 

missionary.  These cases were recorded on local government reports to the central 

government. As such, there may be some exaggeration or bias in their description. Nonetheless, it is important to note that Catholics were no longer silent sufferers. In theory, 

foreign privileges were not to be extended to Koreans, but in reality there were many cases where Catholics attempted to use foreign protection to escape from or confront those in 

power at the local level. As a result, the chain of violence and animosity between Catholics 

and non-Catholics was constantly perpetuated. The resilience of grassroots anti-Catholic 

persecution continued to drive Catholics to seek foreign protection and alienate them from 

the rest of society. 

In conclusion, the political tension between Catholics and non-Catholics remained 

and even intensified after the ratification of the Franco-Korean treaty. Continuous violent 

clashes between the two parties illustrate that the rise of Catholicism in Korea was a 

contributing fact,or to social disintegration rather than integration. Catholics in Korea had 

long valued the Church over the state and continued to hold that belief even after the treaty. To them, the forces of anti-Catholicism, whether private or governmental, were simply 

enemies of the Church to be resisted to the very end. To non-Catholics, the subversive 

nature of Catholicism was common sense reconfirmed by the fact that Catholics continued 

to affiliate with foreign missionaries and in doing so became more confrontational toward 

non-Catholics.  

The profound schism between Catholicism and anti-Catholicism in late Chosŏn 

Korea also clearly shows that there was no sense of unity that derived from belonging to the same race or nation. Even if there was “proto-nationalism,” as some scholars have 

suggested,  it did not provide any means of practical arbitration between the two groups 

divided by different ideological beliefs. After all, Catholics in Korea gave their loyalty to a 

universal church that transcended both state and nation. Thus, it inevitably came into 

conflict with the Chosŏn dynasty, which demanded the highest loyalty to the state. Catholics did not hesitate to rely upon French power and authority in order to defend 

themselves, because they considered France to be the agent of the Catholic Church, rather 

than a foreign aggressor. It thus makes little sense to criticize Korean Catholics for their 

lack of nationalism as some Korean nationalist historians have done.  Rather, we should 

pay attention to the fact that Catholics in Korea consistently desired freedom from state 

persecution and wanted to establish an autonomous Catholic community, where believers 

would be free from local tradition and state jurisdiction. In ways that anticipate and perhaps 

influenced the story of Protestant Koreans that follows, what Catholics strived for was not to identify themselves with state power and national tradition, but rather to detach 

themselves from both.  

 

 

   

 Chapter 2  Protestant Missions and Power 

 

Conventional Protestant history centers on a narrative that stresses the 

“subjectivity” of Koreans in adopting the Protestant faith. Specifically, it highlights the 

uniqueness of a historical situation in which Protestant Christianity was introduced to Korea by Koreans before the Protestant foreign Missions entered Korea. This claim is 

based on the fact that the first Korean Protestants were converted in Manchuria beyond the Korean peninsula. They lived in the northern edge of the peninsula and engaged in 

cross-border trade between Korea and China. They met the Scottish Presbyterian 

missionaries, John Ross and John MacIntyre, on the Chinese side of the border and upon 

converting to Christianity helped them to translate a portion of the Bible into the Korean 

vernacular script of hangŭl. These missionaries then dispatched these Korean converts back 

to Korea with the translation and had them distribute it and proselytize the fellow Koreans 

in a clandestine manner.   

It is true that these early Korean Protestant agents contributed to some extent to the 

early evangelization of Korea. However, the subsequent development of Korean Protestant Christianity was not led by these early converts on the periphery of the Korean peninsula, 

but by the foreign Missions who occupied the capital Seoul and reached out to other parts 

of Korea. As a matter of fact, the key members of the early Korean evangelists from Manchuria such as the Sŏ brothers, Sŏ Sang-ryun and Sŏ Kyŏng-jŏ, reported their presence 

to the American Presbyterian Mission when it arrived and worked for the Mission. 

Moreover, it took Sŏ Kyŏng-jo another twenty years of training under the American Mission before he received official ordination as the first Korean Presbyterian minister in 1904 (as discussed in Chapter 3).  

This chapter reveals that the Korean reception of Protestant Christianity was much 

less “subjective” than has previously been claimed. It argues that the development of the 

foreign mission is the key to understanding the early development of Korean Protestant Christianity, which relied heavily upon the foreign privileges of the Mission as much as the Catholic predecessors.  

 

Genesis of the Protestant Mission in Korea 

In 1882, the United States became the first western power to sign an open port 

treaty with Korea. American Protestant missionaries arrived in Korea as soon as this treaty was ratified in 1884. Prior to the treaty, the foreign mission boards of the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America (Northern Presbyterian Church, hereafter “NP”) 

and the Methodist Episcopal Church, United States (Northern Methodist Church, “NM”) 

had received substantial information about Korea through its missionary agents in China 

and Japan and had been seeking the chance to extend their mission to Korea.  However, 

they were more careful than the French Catholic mission and did not dare to send 

missionaries to Korea without treaty protection. Missionary security was a priority for them 

and hence they waited to see the American flag raised on Korean soil before opening the 

door to mission work. 

However, the treaty was commercial in nature and made no mention of religion. American missionaries could therefore enter Korea and receive protection as United States 

citizens under the treaty, but had no legal right to preach Christianity to Koreans. The 

foreign mission boards of the U.S. Churches were fully aware of this treaty restriction but 

they thought it better to dispatch their missionaries to Korea in any way possible to prepare 

for the day when Christian religion would be tolerated. Hence, the Northern Presbyterian 

mission board reassigned one of its China missionaries, Horace N. Allen (1858–1932) to Korea in the summer of 1884, while appointing Horace G. Underwood (1859-1916) and John Heron (1856-1890) as the first Korea missionaries, who landed in Korea in April 1885. 

Likewise, the Northern Methodist mission board selected and dispatched Henry G. Appenzeller (1858-1902) and William B. Scranton (1856-1922), who arrived in Korea with 

the Presbyterians in 1885. As their birth years show, these missionaries were all young and 

in their twenties when they arrived in Korea in the 1880s, coming straight from the 

seminaries or colleges and had little knowledge on Korea.  

The foreign mission boards were optimistic about the future prospects of the 

mission in Korea. Their Japan missionaries had already established friendly relations with 

some influential Korean officials, such as Kim Ok-kyun (1851–1894) and Pak Yŏng-hyo (1861-1939), who had made repeated visits to Tokyo from 1881 to study western 

scholarship and technology, and had now returned to the Korean government to launch their 

pro-modernization and pro-Western policy against the conservative opposition. The 

reformist agenda of this group, which was known as the “Progressive Party” in Korea, had 

advantages for beginning mission activities in Korea. In fact, a veteran Japan missionary of 

the Methodist Mission, Robert MacLay (1824-1907, NM) had received a royal permit to 

start a hospital and school in Korea through the auspices of Kim Okkyun in 1884. This led 

to the board decision to dispatch the first missionaries to Korea.  In other words, the plan 

of the foreign mission boards was to ally itself with progressive forces in Korea and 

gradually move Chosŏn policy in a pro-West and pro-Christian direction.  

 These optimistic hopes were dashed before Protestant missionaries even reached Korea. In December 1884, the Korean Progressive Party, with support from the Japanese 

government, staged a palace coup to take over power from the conservatives, but their 

efforts failed in only three days due to Chinese military intervention. As a result, 

progressive leaders such as Kim and Pak were ousted from the court and fled to Japan to 

seek exile, leaving no chance for the Korea missionaries to ally with the progressives in the 

court. The only good fortune to come out of the unfortunate event was that Horace N. Allen, 

who was the only missionary already present in Korea, was able to win court favor by 

saving the life of a conservative Korean official who had been attacked and seriously 

wounded during the coup. Allen was a physician-missionary and, because he could not 

practice mission work in Korea, he had been working as a doctor to the U.S. legation since 

his arrival. The U.S. Ambassador had introduced Allen to the Korean court as a physician, not a missionary.  The foreign court advisor, Paul von Molldendorf (1847 -1901), had met Allen in person and he called the American doctor to treat the badly wounded official on 

the night of the coup. 

The official whom Allen saved was the leader of the conservative party, Min Yŏng-ik (1860 -1914), the cousin of Queen Min. Royal gratitude to Allen as well as Min’s 

personal favor soon made him a court physician holding official rank. Taking advantage of 

this breakthrough, Allen soon petitioned the king to allow him to establish a hospital to care 

for the sick. His petition was accepted and resulted in the Royal Hospital where Allen was 

allowed to practice western medicine. The hospital also provided a temporary workplace 

for newly arrived missionaries in the absence of the right to engage in direct mission 

work.  

Superficially, Allen’s success as a court physician may seem to suggest the Korean 

court’s recognition of Protestant mission work and de facto toleration of Christianity. In fact, 

the reality was entirely different. Court patronage for Allen was for his medical practice 

only and neither King Kojong nor Min Yŏng-ik had any intention of tolerating Christianity. 

In the first place, Allen continued to suppress his missionary profile and tried his best to avoid conflict with the Korean court over the matter of his faith. Moreover, Allen’s petition 

to build the Royal Hospital was permitted because he proposed that it be a royal institution, 

entirely funded by the Korean court, with its ultimate purpose being to provide free care for 

the sick and “endear the people to their monarch”  rather than to advance the Christian 

cause. Though Allen hired fellow missionaries as hospital workers, he explained to the 

court that they had been sent by “a benevolent society in America,” and came as Korean 

court employees, thereby concealing the church and missionary support they received.  In 

short, Allen’s success was the result of camouflaging his Christian identity rather than 

winning royal recognition of it.  

 

Franco-Korean Treaty and Its Effect on the Protestant Mission 

Allen justified his establishment of the Royal Hospital as a nominally 

non-missionary institution as an expedient adopted in light of anti-Christian policy in Korea. 

He imagined he could change this policy by cultivating the maximum extent of royal favor. 

Other missionaries, however, did not share this view and thought Allen was simply working for his own interest and prestige, while neglecting his missionary duties. Such frustration 

was strong among evangelical missionaries such as Underwood and Appenzeller, who 

considered a hospital without Christian agency to be worthless.  Moreover, Underwood 

and Appenzeller were ordained ministers with no medical skills to establish their careers in 

the hospital. Finally, they grew personally weary of Allen’s high-handed manner and 

leadership, taking advantage of his personal connection to the court. They saw Allen as 

being no different from themselves, a young man in his twenties with little professional 

experience as a missionary.  Thus, they had all the more reason to reject Allen’s methods.    Unable to wait any longer, these frustrated young missionaries began to seek the 

chance to start their own mission work in violation of the treaty restrictions. Fortuitously, it 

was also precisely at this time that they heard the news that the Franco-Korean Treaty was 

about to be negotiated and that “the French… will insist upon the right of their priests to 

work here.” As rivals of the Catholic faith, these American missionaries observed unhappily 

that the “Romanists have a large Korean following” and worried that “if the Protestants do not do their duty, we will have a Romish instead of a heathen people to convert.”  They 

were thus concerned that if the French won the right of religious freedom in Korea, the Catholic mission would prevail there. On the other hand, they also knew that any treaty 

privilege gained by the French would be extended to American citizens by virtue of the 

most-favored-nation clause. Hence, the American missionaries desired to see the French 

win the right of religious freedom, calculating that, “if they do this [win religious freedom], 

it will at once give us the right also.”  Behind the scenes, however, they did not miss the 

chance to defame the Catholics in the eyes of the Korean court whenever the opportunity 

arose to do so. For instance, when Horace Allen was consulted by the Korean court during Franco-Korean negotiations and asked for his opinion about the teaching of Catholicism, he 

did his best to list the reasons that the Koreans should reject Catholicism. First, Allen 

warned that, in accepting Catholicism, Korea would be politically subservient to Papal 

authority, a point he contrasted with Protestant America. 

   

Americans are an independent people and look with disfavor on anything that tends to curtail our power. Were we Catholics, our President would be under the power of the Pope.  

 

Allen also elaborated on what he saw as the social dangers of Catholicism by appealing to 

the Korean Confucian ethical views of gender.  

 

First, we are opposed to praying idols or anyone but the Creator of the 

Universe. The Catholics worship and pray to the Virgin Mary, Mother of Christ, a woman. Secondly, we think no one but God can forgive sin, they give this power to corrupt priests to whom all Catholics must confess their most private thoughts. Third the priests are men with the same organs and passions as other men, they are not eunuchs, and we claim that it is not safe for women to go and confess to these men their secret thoughts and faults.   

 

It is not clear how this vicious anti-Catholic propaganda by a Protestant missionary affected Franco-Korean treaty negotiations, but as seen in the previous chapter, even the French 

government failed to win the explicit religious freedom clause due to the staunch Korean 

opposition.  

In the event, Protestant expectations that the French would win the right of 

freedom of religion were betrayed. Nevertheless, Protestant missionaries soon found that French priests were traveling to the Korean interior and giving religious instructions to Korean Catholics under the pretense of “language teaching.” As detailed in the previous 

chapter, this unilateral action on the part of the French missionaries angered the Korean 

government, who saw it as a treaty violation, and also triggered a series of violent 

anti-foreign and anti-Catholic incidents across the country. But the American missionaries, 

who had long been frustrated over the treaty restrictions placed on their missionary rights, 

took the French aggressive action as a good excuse to claim the same right for Americans 

as a most-favored-nation. Thus, Horace G. Underwood and Henry G. Appenzeller decided 

to do as the French were doing and ventured to make a joint trip outside the foreign 

settlement to the Korean interior in 1888 and, when occasion allowed, did preach to the 

locals and even baptized some.97 

Needless to say, the Korean government was greatly offended by American 

missionary actions and sent an official objection to the US legation to the effect that “It is 

well known to the Korean Government that Americans residing in Korea are engaged in 

disseminating the doctrines of the Christian religion.” The government also made clear that 

                                                   

97

 H. G. Underwood to Dr. Ellinwood, (1/22/1887, 1/27/1887), Underwood Letters vol.1, 

405, 497; George William Gilmore, Korea from its capital with a chapter on missions (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-school Work, 1892), 307. mission work was not permitted under the current treaty and that such actions “not 

authorized by the treaty… shall cease.”  Upon receiving this notice, the United States Minister adopted the Korean objection and recalled Underwood and Appenzeller from the 

interior to Seoul and ordered them to “refrain from teaching the Christian religion and 

administering its rites and ordinances to the Korean people.”   

While illicit evangelism by Protestant missionaries ceased temporarily, 

Underwood was unwilling to accept any legal restrictions. Despite the warning from the Korean government, he claimed that the missionaries “were under higher orders than that of 

a Korean king” and therefore “our duty was to preach and take the consequences, resting 

for authority on the word of God.”  With such self-assigned divine prerogative, Underwood was not deterred by the Korean government order and continued to “teach and 

preach, in public and private, singing hymns.”    

There is no doubt that Underwood’s religious convictions are what drove him to 

take such aggressive and bold action. However, he would not have dared to do so had it not 

been for the treaty right of extraterritoriality. All American missionaries knew that they 

were exempt from Korean jurisdiction despite whatever illegal act they might commit in Korea and were ultimately protected by the consular court under the American flag. In fact, 

the U.S. legation, despite its official stance against illegal evangelism in Korea, did not 

deport or punish missionaries for their transgressions. Rather, when any trouble took place 

between the missionaries and Korean authority, the U.S. government always did its best to 

protect the missionary interest as an American interest.    

On the other hand, the Korean King, Kojong, wanted to maintain friendly relations 

with the United States and desired its protection from the Chinese and Japanese power.  As a result, while the Korean government was never willing to permit Christianity officially, 

it tended to acquiescence to the missionary work. The missionaries could feel the effect of 

this change in the 1890s, observing that, “The Christian religion is nominally under the ban, 

but, practically missionaries may do religious work as long as the attention of the government is not directed to their operations or political complications do not arise to 

compel a protest.”    

   

Popular Opposition against Christianity 

Despite the real sense that the Chosŏn government was turning a blind eye toward 

missionary work suggested in the above observation, its optimism was nevertheless 

unfounded and did not reflect the reality of the foreign mission in Korea. The extension of Protestant mission work without official government sanctioning caused as many political 

complications with the Korean government and society as the Catholics. The Protestant 

followed the Catholic’s lead to justify its illegal mission work under the unequal treaty and 

there was no difference between the two missions in terms of their neglect of Korean 

sovereignty and local jurisdiction. 

In fact, anti-missionary opposition was conspicuous from the very beginning of the 

Protestant missions. When the Presbyterian mission began a hospital and an orphanage in 

Seoul, a vicious rumor soon spread among the local populace that the missionaries were “sending them [Koreans to] America as slaves” and “fattening them up for the table.”  This kind of rumor was observed in China as early as 1850s and it seems that the Koreans 

were influenced by anti-missionary sentiment in China. Such anti-foreign sentiment soon 

took the form of direct demonstration. In February 1887, street shops in Seoul closed in 

unison—a traditional means of expressing popular dissatisfaction—and Seoul merchants 

demanded the removal of all foreigners from the city center to suburban Yongsan, outside 

the city gate.   

The shop closure was followed by an anti-Christian decree in April 1888, in 

which the Korean government made clear its will to maintain its proscription of Christianity. Protestant missionaries at that time and Protestant historians later explained that the decree 

was directed against the Catholic missionaries who had embarrassed the king by building a Cathedral on a hill that looked down upon the palace.  However, the official note of 

objection that was sent to the U.S. legation specified the American Protestant missionaries 

as the violators of law  and there is no doubt that the Korean government made no 

distinction between Protestantism and Catholicism but wanted to keep both in check as 

subversive forms of heterodoxy. As mentioned above, royal patronage was given only for 

the medical and diplomatic services of the missionaries, whom the Chosŏn government 

considered as no more than court employees.  

The anti-Christian decree appears to have incited the grassroots anti-Christian 

movement. Shortly thereafter, another grotesque rumor was disseminated claiming that 

missionaries had kidnapped Korean babies and killed them to use their eyes for 

medicine.  This rumor caused a mass hysteria that turned into a violent anti-missionary 

mob, later known as the “Baby Riot” in 1888. The frightened missionaries quickly fled into 

the U.S. legation and “lost sleep… took turn about one night watching for the outbreak” on 

that night, while the U.S. Navy squadron off the Inch’ŏn port was quickly mobilized to 

defend the legation building.  The riot was pacified in two weeks through Korean 

government intervention without any missionary casualties. Nevertheless, this incident 

furnished convincing proof that Korea was not yet open to Christianity. 

While the “Baby Riot” subsided in Seoul, the anti-foreign movement was 

spreading in the rural provinces beyond the city gates of Seoul. This was around the time 

that French Catholic missionaries began open proselytizing and emerging Protestant 

missionaries were naturally identified with the former. For instance, when William Baird (1862-1931), a Presbyterian missionary (NP), traveled to Kyŏngsang Province in 1893, he 

found that people feared him as a Catholic priest and he could not approach them closely, a 

circumstance he decried: “people in this country shun us.”111 The same year Daniel Gifford (n.a -1900, NP) and George Heber Jones (1867-1919, NM) found an anonymous 

anti-Christian edict posted on the wall of their residence, while James Scranton was robbed 

on the street one night.112 

  The more fearful experience missionaries suffered at this time was when the Tonghak staged a mass rebellion in 1894 under the slogan of anti-foreignism. Upon 

receiving news of the uprising, the Protestant missionaries in the region all retreated to 

Seoul and thus saved their lives, but many Catholic villages were burnt and destroyed in the 

                                                   

111

 Richard H. Baird, William M. Baird of Korea; a profile (Oakland, Cali: Richard H. Baird, 1968), 31. 112

 Koryŏ Taehakkyo Asea Munje Yŏnʾguso, Ku hanʾguk oegyo munsŏ : mi-an (Seoul: 

Koryŏ Taehakkyo Chʻulpʻanbu 1965), Document number, 718, 776. 

southern provinces, while scathing anti-foreign edicts were posted on the streets in Seoul to 

scare all foreigners, whether Catholic or Protestant.    

 

Extraterritoriality and Converts 

  Given the strong anti-foreign and anti-Christian atmosphere, it was inevitable that Protestant missionaries would rely on their home government’s power, whether political or 

military, in time of need. An instance of persecution in Pyŏngyang in 1894, shortly before 

the Tonghak Rebellion, provides a good case in point. At that time, Pyŏngyang was not a 

treaty city and foreign residence was not permitted there, much less the Christian religion. Yet, both the Presbyterian and Methodist missionaries had visited this city and made 

several converts there. Their justification for their activities was that the Japanese were 

already there and that Americans should deserve the same rights of residence as citizens of 

a most-favored-nation.  Moreover, they purchased property in the name of local converts 

and made it into a clandestine church. However, the illegal Christian intrusion was soon 

detected by local residents and reported to the local authorities. The governor of Pyŏngyang quickly arrested and jailed the native Christians who had helped the foreigners, while the 

missionaries were saved from the same fate due to their extraterritorial status. Missionaries 

responded to local Christian requests “to secure protection for them,”  by sending an 

urgent telegraph to the American and British legations in Seoul to press the Korean Foreign Ministry to release the Christians in Pyŏngyang. The Korean government responded 

quickly, but the governor, who possessed considerable power as a close relative of the 

current Queen, resisted the release order from the central government and continued 

torturing the Christians in prison. To make matters worse, the missionary residence in the 

city was sieged by a local anti-Christian mob. The house was stoned and the wall was torn 

down, while native water carriers were blocked from supplying water to the foreigners.  In the event, the governor surrendered to the central government and the Korean Christians 

were released, but the “Pyŏngyang Persecution” in 1894 provides further proof that there 

was no official or legal sanction for Christian mission work in Korea. 

Meanwhile, the “Pyŏngyang Persecution” left a significant impact upon the 

popular perception of the foreign missionaries and the subsequent development of the Protestant Church. To draw upon a contemporary missionary’s testimony, “this victory 

made the people generally realize that missionaries were their friends and that behind the 

missionaries was a Power which could overcome even magistrates and governors.”  This 

impression is further endorsed by the Korean Christian historian, Paik Nak-chun (1895-1985), who was born and brought up in Chŏngju, P’yŏngan Province in the 

aftermath of this event.  

 

This single episode made a profound impression on the minds of the people. 

Even the governor had to yield when he came to deal with missionaries. The people who had been oppressed and subjected to extortion by the governor turned to the missionary and his religion as a measure of protection and personal safety.  

 

This description of the oppressed Koreans who turned to the missionaries for protection and 

safety was no different from that of the Korean Catholics under the French mission. In the Korean context, where there was no governmental recognition for Christianity, it was 

impossible to carry out the mission work without relying on the privileges of 

extraterritoriality. 

      Given that “extra-territoriality ensures the safety of the missionaries, but adds 

nothing to the security of its converts,” it was inevitable that missionaries would attempt 

to extend their privileges to local converts. As a contemporary foreign observer put it, “while foreigners are not subject to the native laws, they yet have influence in securing 

mitigation of punishments or release of prisoners held under the operation of those laws” 

and therefore there were cases where “the missionaries secured the release of men who had 

been imprisoned on grounds which to the missionaries seemed unjust.  

Once the Korean populace recognized the superior power of missionaries to 

provide protection from the law, many soon came to flock around the missionaries either 

for conversion or for employment. According to Franklin Ohlinger (1845-1919), a Methodist missionary (NM), it was already a common idea in 1892 that, “A Korean who is 

in any way connected with foreigners, especially with missionaries, is perfectly free from 

the restraints of Koreans as well as all other law” and “That is their interpretation of 

ex-territoriality.”  Horace N. Allen (NP) agreed, observing: “This [extraterritorial right] 

places great power in his [missionary] hands… is pretty sure to be led into a greater or less number of cases where in a native desires to profit by his Christian connection and obtain 

foreign protection…The hope of this sort of assistance some times induces people to flock 

to the Church.”  In short, the missionaries were well aware that their privileged status 

was as much appealing to the Koreans as their religion. Whether the missionaries were 

comfortable with such Korean expectations or not, they were bound to be identified with 

foreign power as long as they possessed privileges of extraterritorial status that oppressed Koreans could never dream of. The Protestant Church appeared to Koreans as a political 

refuge as much as the Catholic Church. 

  

Conflicts with Local Customs and Society 

The Korean Christian sense of enjoying the extraterritorial privileges of the 

missionaries also enabled their bold challenge to local religious traditions, including 

ancestral worship and other practices. Like the early Catholic Mission, the Protestant Missions, both Presbyterian and Methodist, defined the Confucian-style ancestral worship 

as idol worship and required the converts to discontinue the practice as a requisite for 

church membership. Naturally, Korean Christians were persecuted and they were often ousted from their family and the local society they belonged to. Daniel Gifford (NP) 

testified to the hardships faced by Korean Christians: 

 

 From the moment the man decides for Christ, a complete revolution in the tenor of this life begins. One of the great days for the worship of ancestors arrives, and on conscientious grounds he refuses to join in the worship. Immediately he finds himself in trouble, and this is especially true to the Yangban, or aristocratic claims to social superiority depend so largely upon the universally strict adherence to the system of Confucius…Hence our Christian finds himself opposed by the bitter anger of the men of his family, and all his near and distant relations, not to mention the dislike and ridicule of the rest of the community.  

 

It was not ancestral worship alone but all indigenous religious practices that had to be 

abandoned completely as “demon worship.” The missionaries encouraged the Christians to 

show their determination in action and to perform the burning of traditional religious 

elements in their house, which was “assailed by the tears and imprecations of the female 

part of his household” as the cult of non-Confucian miscellaneous deities were more a 

religion of women in traditional Korea. Such provocative idol destruction was often carried 

out under missionary supervision. In her diary, Mattie Noble (NM) provides the following 

account of one such mission-sponsored ritual. 

 

At one home where the mother had been a Christian a few days, we were invited in to help destroy the fetish… Seeing one fetish on the wall, I asked its meaning and was told that it was the fetish to the spirit protecting the house building… In one room on a shelf were three baskets full of clothes that had been made for offering to different evil spirits. In a crock was some old cooked rice. She desired to burn them all… we took them away to be used for the poorer children of the Church , as outside of the Church no one would use then for the fear of the wrath of the Evil One.  

 

Noble also intervened in non-Christian life and did her best to eliminate any “fetishes” that 

came within her sight. When she saw Koreans in her neighborhood called sorcerers to drive 

away the evil spirit of a sick child, she took her native Christian woman with her and “went 

to the open courtyard of the house to see if we might possibly talk to the mother about the Great Physician.” Though she could not make herself heard, “amid the noise and confusion,” 

she “sent two Christian women some other time to teach them.”  

  The Presbyterian, Samuel F. Moore (1860-1906, NP), was more confrontational. When he made a visit to a Buddhist monastery in 1900, he lost his patience and smashed 

some temple idols. Though he later explained that he had merely “lightly tapped one [idol] 

as illustrating their inanity,”126 his bold action came to be known by the British 

representative in Seoul who, fearing a Korean reprise of the previous year’s anti-Christian Boxer Rebellion in China, demanded the American government take “drastic measures in 

punishment” of Moore.127 Horace N. Allen, who had by that time left the Presbyterian 

Mission to serve as a U.S. Consular representative in Seoul, took up the matter with the 

State Department and could placate Moore only by threatening him with imprisonment.128  Allen himself defended other missionaries as men of “common sense with superior 

mental quality,”129 but iconoclasm against local deities was copied and widely practiced by Korean Christians, for which Christians were targeted by anti-Christian mobs. A detailed 

account of the cases is omitted here, but let it suffice to quote a few pages from the first 

official annul of the Korean Presbyterian Church in the Korean language, published in 1928, 

in which many cases of anti-Christian persecution were reported as a result of iconoclastic 

                                                   

126

 S. F. Moore to Horace Allen (1900/3/3) quoted in Martha Huntley, To Start a Work: The 

Foundations of Protestant Mission in Korea (1884-1919) (Seoul: Presbyterian Church of Korea, 1987), 47. 127

 Allen, Things Korean; a collection of sketches and anecdotes, missionary and diplomatic, 173-174; Harrington, God, mammon, and the Japanese, 105-106. 

128

 Harrington, God, mammon, and the Japanese, 105-106. 

129

 Allen, Things Korean; a collection of sketches and anecdotes, missionary and diplomatic, 173. 

acts of destruction carried out against local traditions. For instance, in P’yŏngan Province 

alone, the following cases are reported for the year 1894.  

 

In Yŏngch’ŏn, a Christian believer, Paek In-gyŏl, demolished the head part of an idol in the local shrine [sŏnghwangdang]. Villagers were excited to rise up and lynched Paek harshly, prohibiting other Christians to reside in the village any more. This caused a huge uproar for a few months but eventually solved by the intervention by government officials. In Sŏnchŏn County, when Koŭp Church was just established, an evangelist, Chŏng Ing-no stepped in a local shrine building and pulled down the divine tablet. Thereupon, villagers were excited to beat our believers and banned our believers from farming in the village, causing another huge uproar for a few months. Government officials intervened and settled it down.  

   

The two cases quoted above are those that are clearly recoded as having been triggered by Christians’ acts of icon destruction. If we include other cases of trouble that are recorded 

without a clear explanation of the cause, we can add a few more cases of severe 

anti-Christian violence such as beating, lynching in detention, and arson of church 

buildings by non-believers.  Even without Christian provocation, anti-Christian 

sentiment prevailed in the countryside and violent clashes were frequent in other regions. 

The above-mentioned Presbyterian Annul describes the general state of anti-Christian trend 

in Hwanghae Province in 1896 as follows. 

 

Non-believers persecuted us on the ground that Christians are immoral meeting men and women together and that we discontinue ancestral worship and abandon lineage traditions. They caused many difficulties for our Church in various ways. For instance, in T’angp’o, Pongsan County, our meeting place was destroyed because we did not participate in the Confucian worship in the village; In Imdong, Pongsan County, our believers were beaten; In P’yŏnchŏn, P’yŏngsan County, they 

[non-Christians] banned us to sing hymnals and reported to the police to file a lawsuit against us because we did not give a heed. Besides, there were frequent incidents in which the stubborn and wandering delinquents formed a flock and demolished our church gates, beat our believers and humiliated us.  

 

Needless to say, this series of Christian conflicts with the local society completely concurs 

with the case of Korean Catholics in its early development as described in the previous 

chapter. Regardless of the institutional and doctrinal differences between the two Churches, 

both Catholics and Protestants were perceived as a dangerous social heterodoxy under 

foreign control and were thus attacked and ostracized by local society at large. There is no 

doubt that their belief in transcendental God and new Christian principles led converts to 

make a radical departure from Korean social conventions. We should not overlook, however, the fact that their destructive actions were often taken under the encouragement 

and support of foreign Missions who enjoyed extraterritorial protection. In this regard, the Protestants shared a common culture with the Catholics and their radical departure from 

social convention must be explained not only by their religious belief in a transcendental God but also by their sense of socio-political empowerment under the foreign Mission.  

 

Catholic-Protestant Conflicts 

This common reliance on foreign power among early Korean Christian converts is 

also evidenced by the fact that there were many disputes between Korean Catholics and Protestants in which both sides claimed that they had a sovereign right in the local society 

and were not to be disturbed by any other party, whether government or private. The most 

famous case of Catholic-Protestant conflict is one that occurred in Hwanghae Province in 

1898. The Korean Presbyterian Church records the following account of this incident. 

 

In Chaeryŏng in 1898, when our believers were building a church, more than one hundred Catholics came to us out of blue and announced that they will also use the church. When we rejected, Catholics were greatly angered and tried to stop our construction work. Since we were outnumbered, we had to stop it and sent a messenger to P’yŏngyang to let the [Presbyterian] missionaries heed our grief. However, there was no effect [of the missionary intervention] and Catholics threatened us so fearfully that our believers were depressed to the extreme. Then, Ch’oe Pyŏng-sa and Kim Chae-hwan could not endure the plight anymore and filed a suit in the court against Father Wilhelm [the head of the Catholic Church in that region]. On April 2 in the same year, the court trial began and two hundred and more Catholics appeared to demonstrate [their power] against our two Protestant believers. Given that scary condition, we never thought of winning the case, but with only our Lord’s help, the Head of our Church, we were able to win and complete the construction of the church…  

 

What is important to note in this passage is that both Catholics and Protestants took 

enlisting missionary support for their case for granted. Unlike the Catholic Father, the Presbyterian missionaries did not represent Koreans directly in court this time, but they 

were still the first authority to receive the report from Korean Christians before the local 

police. In another Catholic-Protestant conflict in Charyŏng in 1900, in which Protestants 

were beaten by Catholics for not contributing money for a Catholic church building fund, 

the Protestant missionaries pressed the U.S. Minister in Seoul to intervene and let him 

negotiate with the French Minister to stop the French Fathers behind the scheme. When the 

issue was brought to the local Korean court, Presbyterian missionaries, Horace G. 

Underwood and Samuel A. Moffett attended the trial as observers, which eventually judged 

in favor of the Protestant cause.   

  By the end of the 1890s, it was common sense among Koreans that Protestant 

missionaries held the same power and privileges as Catholic priests. As a result, Protestant 

missionaries were embarrassed at times to find that their converts also came to the Church 

to receive protection. James E. Adams (1867-1929, NP) testifies to one such experience in 

his field in Kyŏngsang Province in 1901.  

 

The immediate and urgent motive for this [visiting of local Christian groups] was that one of them was reported to be going over, bag and baggage, to the Roman Catholics, who would give help in a civil suit in the native courts when we would not. This group was a sort of family group, almost all the members being in one relationship… They were quite frank to admit that they did not think much of the doctrines of that church, but it was essential that they should have protection in order to live, and that was the only place they could get it. We labored with them for several days but without great apparent effect…  

 

It was not only the common people who sought foreign protection. Even among Korean 

officials, who had witnessed the superior power of the missionary to their own government, 

there were a few who began to seek Church membership as a better means of security. Yun Ch’i-ho, one of the first Korean Methodist converts, found one such person among his 

friends and wrote in his diary.   

 

Called on Rou Chai Hion [sic], the Vice Minister of Law. He desires to join either the Catholic or the Protestant Mission, as one of the means of protection in this land of oppression and disorder. He is, by the way, one of the smartest and straightest men in the Corean officialdom.  

 

As discussed below, the conversion to Christianity by high-ranking officials was rare, but 

this testimony shows how missionary power was generally perceived by the Koreans. It 

also shows that for seekers of political asylum the decision to go to the Protestant Church 

or Catholic Church was rather a random choice. The important thing was whether the 

foreigners could protect them in exchange for their association to the Church.  

 

The Mission and Material Opulence  

In addition to extraterritorial privilege, the Protestant missionaries also used their 

material wealth as another means to impress Korean converts. The American foreign 

compound became a major venue for the exhibition of this material wealth. During the high tide of western imperialism in the late nineteenth century, it was a universal practice for 

colonialists to form a foreign compound in which they could maintain their home culture 

and lifestyle in the colony. The American missionaries in Korea, though they were not 

formal colonialists, were in no way different in following this social convention. For 

example, Henry G. Appenzeller, the first Methodist missionary to Korea, was gratified 

when he first saw a foreign compound in Yokohama en route to Korea.  

 

The first thing that impressed me on landing in Yokohama was the “foreign concession”, a section of the city set aside exclusively for foreigners. Here I found myself practically in an American or English city. 

Good substantial buildings, wide streets and the quick, lively step of 

European. Then the “compound” system was novel to me.  

 

Appenzeller’s view was not unique. As soon as they settled in Seoul, and regardless of 

denominational affiliation, American Protestant missionaries together began constructing a 

foreign compound in the proximity of the U.S. Legation. Mrs. Ella Appenzeller wrote 

happily her family: “We, with the Presbyterians and the Legations, are making this end of the city a miniature America. We can show thousands what a home is like, and have made 

ours as pleasant as possible.”  

As the last part of Ella Appenzeller’s statement reveals, the missionary house was 

not merely a place of residence, but an exhibition center where missionaries introduced 

Koreans to the merits of Christian civilization, which Koreans naively identified with the American way of life. With this purpose, the missionaries had little hesitation about making 

every aspect of their home life as American as possible. Typically, a missionary house was 

furnished with American desks, chairs and carpets they had sent from home. As for daily 

food, they relied heavily upon imports from home.  According a missionary wife, “Rice, 

chickens, and eggs could be bought at the Korean market, which was held every five days, 

but other supplies had to come from San Francisco.”  

To maintain a comfortable living, it was a common missionary practice to hire 

many domestic servants. Back home, a private servant would have been a luxury to most 

missionaries, but in Korea they could use their decent salary to hire a number of them. 

According to Horace Allen’s testimony, the average market price for servants varied 

depending on their nationality: “A first-class Chinese boy (all Chinese male servants are 

called boys, irrespective of age) can be obtained for about twelve to fifteen dollars a month; 

a Japanese cook and his wife can be hired for about fifteen dollars a month; while Korean 

man or boy will serve for from four to six dollars.”  Allen himself hired a Korean waiter, 

a gate boy, sedan chair carriers, and several other helpers, in addition to a Chinese nurse for 

his child and a Japanese cook.  As domestic servants were considered a commodity, it 

soon became common that the missionaries prearrange servants for the newcomer 

missionaries. Upon first arriving in Seoul in 1893, O.R. Avison (1860-1956), a Presbyterian 

doctor (NP), was surprised to find a Japanese amah, a Korean cook, and, an errand man, 

waiting to serve him in his residence.  

The justification for hiring so many servants varied among the missionaries. Miss 

Barlow, a Methodist missionary, said it was a substitute for modern infrastructure. 

 

Servants in the Orient are not a luxury but a necessity. In the West you also had servants, in the form of running water, electricity, gas, and such fixtures as washers, sweepers, and flush toilets… In Korea there are not such conveniences to save both labor and precious time. Yes, here, in order to accomplish anything worthwhile, one has to have servants. It is a clear “must.”  

 

Others said that studying the native language and teaching their children at home left them 

too busy to do household work,  while some others retrospectively excused themselves 

by saying that “untrained servants of that day were unable to handle more than one kind of 

a job…an oriental servant is apt to have a very definite idea as to what he will do and what 

he will not do.”  Considering the gap in living standard between Korea and America at 

that time, these statements may have an element of truth. But there was another reason for 

having so many domestic servants, which few missionaries were willing to mention--- their 

desire for material wealth and power. Annie Baird (1864-1916, NP), a wife of the pioneer Presbyterian missionary, William Baird (NP), was exceptionally honest on that point. She 

admitted that the missionaries in Korea were constantly exposed to a strong temptation to 

employ more servants than actually necessary because “it comes so easily and cheaply.”  

She also observed that a young missionary couple to Korea who “came out keyed up to endure physical hardship of any and every description” usually felt that their “occidental 

conscience” was not satisfied when they saw “missionaries living for the most part in 

comfortable houses, surrounded by bevies of yellow, black or brown servants... and 

presenting an appearance of astonishing ease,” and they even thought of dispensing with 

servants altogether.  Yet, as time went on and their “mental vision clears,” they also 

ended up in conceding their lofty ideals and adopting conventional missionary practice, 

acquiescing in the observation that “the cheapest and most plentiful thing under heathen 

skies is human manual labor, and the scarcest and most precious is missionary time and 

strength.”  

It is in such homes of “astonishing ease” surrounded by “bevies of servants” that 

many Koreans were invited to learn the essence of Christian civilization in its American 

expression. The missionaries were generally confident and positive about the evangelizing 

effect of such visual opulence upon the Korean mind.  

 

Koreans are fond of visiting the homes of foreigners. They admire the comfort…of the home life of the strangers. They go home to ponder on the religion which takes hold of the present life of man… They mark our cheerful faces and our enjoyment of life, and wonder at the cause. They listen to the tales of achievements of Western science. The huge cities, the wonderful railroad, the marvelous steamboat, impress them with a sense of the lifting power of our civilization. When they realize that all this is the outcome and development of our religion, the practical value of Christianity makes a powerful appeal to them.   

 

In fact, material superiority was the common answer to the most frequently asked questions 

by the Koreans--- “What good it is going to do [to become a Christian] or “in what respect Christianity is superior to Confucianism and Buddhism?” To these questions, the typical 

missionary answer was to “point to the superior comforts which Christians enjoy, to detail 

the advantages of a distinctively Christian civilization.”  

The affluent and conspicuous foreign lifestyle of the missionaries stood in stark 

contrast to the poor living standard of the Korean Christians who came under missionary 

care. On the one hand, the gap in material living standards convinced the poor Koreans of 

the power of the foreign missionaries and the superiority of the Christian religion. On the 

other hand, such material wealth also carried a danger of alienating Koreans from the 

missionaries physically, culturally, and, psychosocially. Nonetheless, the general view 

among the missionaries is that placing an affluent lifestyle on display had a more positive 

impact on winning more converts. The effects of this practice had been tested and verified in neighboring mission fields such as China. On this reasoning, the Korea missionaries 

insisted that “the case is the same in Korea” and the Presbyterian mission board raised their 

salaries “taking into account of the great advantage of this argument.”  In sum, Protestant 

missionaries from the beginning put great emphasis on the promise of material wealth, 

which they considered a good expedient means for Christian propaganda in Korea.  

 

Missionary Adaptation to Social Hierarchy  

Using extraterritoriality and material affluence, missionaries constructed their 

image as a new ruling class in Korean society. In their home residences, missionaries were 

surrounded by a number of servants who were dependent upon their foreign masters for pay 

and protection. American missionaries, many of whom came to Korea in their twenties 

straight from college or seminary, did not enjoy commanding positions in their own 

society.  Once they crossed the Pacific and reached Korea, however, they were treated as 

masters without any qualification. Being an American missionary secured them 

considerable social privilege and the young missionaries soon learned the joy “to be lord over a little crowd of underlings” and embraced “a pleasant feeling of power and 

position.”    

It is important to note here that the occupation of domestic servant was held in the 

lowest esteem in Chosŏn society, where the institution of slavery still existed and little 

distinction was made between servant and slave.  Thus, servants in the missionary house 

followed the social convention of making themselves absolutely subservient to their 

master’s will and served their foreign masters loyally as they would do to the Korean 

aristocratic class called yangban. Servants, for examples, addressed the missionaries as “yŏnggamnim”(master) or “taein” (great man),  which were the honorific titles for social 

superiors in the Korean language. Likewise, missionary wives were called “taepuin”(great 

lady) as the spouses of honorable men. This social convention gladdened many American 

missionaries of common origin, who could never expect such a high title at home, and they often reported this home proudly: “The foreigners here are highly respected… We are here 

called “the great man” or “the great lady.”   

The missionary desire to hold and perpetuate their superior position to the Koreans 

was also manifest in the Korean language they learned to use. The Korean language is 

sensitive to distinctions of social status, and the mode of speech depends on the relation of 

power between the speakers. The missionaries often complained that the Korean language 

was so foreign and difficult to learn, but they scarcely made a mistake when it came to 

whom they should use panmal, the language seniors use to address juniors, which the 

missionaries called “low talk.” The first missionaries perhaps learned this linguistic practice 

naturally through the real-life experience of being a master, but using “low talk” to Koreans 

soon became such a common habit that it was actually taught in the Korean language 

manual compiled by veteran missionaries. The manual instructed the missionary learner to 

use “low talk” to “children, boys, and, in general, to servants,” adding a special note, “do 

not be afraid of often using something a little higher” to servants.  It also taught missionaries proper manners expected of a Korean nobleman: “Do not, as a rule, salute to 

children or servants first, but expect and return their salutations.”    

Having received such training, the missionaries did not hesitate to demonstrate 

their superior position to Koreans in public just as yangban aristocrats did. For instance, 

when the missionaries walked on a crowded street with servants, they let the servants “tell 

them [people] avoid pressing near us and to make way for us.”  The missionary ladies 

avoided traveling horseback, because in Chosŏn society “only the low dancing girls travel 

in this way.”  So, they used sedan chairs as this was the primary means of transportation 

for high-class women. And, when they went on sedan chair for evangelical purposes, they 

made their servants follow on foot after the chair carriers.  Later, some male missionaries 

gave their servants a more difficult time by traveling fast on a bicycle. In this case, the 

missionary did not travel with the servants but went ahead to the villages and the towns of 

his destination to attract a crowd with this strange locomotive and waited for his servants to catch up with him and follow up his gospel teaching.  In the 1920s, missionaries began to 

drive T-Fords,  a mode of transportation too luxurious to afford not only for Koreans, but 

also for most Japanese colonialists.  

The social conduct of the missionaries was so perfectly in accordance with that of 

the traditional yangban aristocrats that local Koreans soon coined the new idiom, yang taein, 

meaning “western yangban.”165 Contemporary missionary reports and writings are inclined 

to depict their self-image as benevolent and egalitarian servants to the heathens, but their 

image in the Korean eye was quite different. No matter how benevolent they were when 

compared with the local yangban, they were nonetheless masters and identified as such in 

the local context. 

 

Servants-turned-Christian Leaders 

The master-servant relation was originally shaped in the domestic sphere of the 

missionary residence but was soon carried over into the ecclesiastical sphere. This is 

because many of the early Korean converts, including Korean pastors, were actually 

produced from among missionary servants. The missionaries, especially in the early stage 

of the mission, regarded these servants as the primary target of conversion since they were 

within reach and more receptive to missionary influence, being protected in their foreign 

residence and free from governmental and popular harassment. In fact, in 1893, the Methodist Mission reported that out of sixty-two Korean members of their Church, 

one-third of them were under missionary employment.  In this context, it was a natural 

consequence that the servant-turned-convert did not enjoy an equal status with the 

missionaries. Even after conversion, they remained as servants under missionary pay. Some, 

however, were assigned as “helpers” to provide assistance to missionary work. To take a 

few examples, Kim Chang-sik (1857-1929), who later became the first Korean deacon in 

the Methodist Church in Korea, was originally a gatekeeper, hired by Franklin Ohlinger 

(NM).  Chŏn Tŏkki (1875-1914), who was later known as a representative anti-Japanese 

Christian nationalist, was a cook for William Scranton (NM), the first Methodist medical missionary.  Yi Ki-p’ung (1865-1942), one of the first seven Korean Presbyterian 

ministers, ordained in 1907, and the first Korean missionary to the Quelpart Island (Cheju 

Island) was also a cook for William Swallen (1865-1954, NP).  In the case of Walter Erdman (1877-1948, NP), his female servant was such an excellent cook that he hesitated 

to use her as an evangelist.  

 

My cook has been a great help. She is unusually bright and quick to understand my meaning, so I often ask her to “translate” my words to others. She is a very good cook, too, but the fear is growing upon me that she is too bright to be a cook all her life and some day [sic] I will have to make her into a Bible woman, or my conscience won’t be easy! Good servants are very important in a missionary home, but in the ultimate, good Bible women are probably more so.  

 

The “amahs”, nannies, in the missionary home, were also mobilized for evangelical 

purposes. One such amah at the Swallens (NP) residence was recruited as an evangelist and 

later sent to Cheju Island as the first woman missionary. The Swallens were particularly 

fond of recruiting Korean evangelists among their servants and thus Mrs. Swallen 

continued to practice the same method and still advocated it in the 1930s, recommending it 

to young missionaries: “Let the new missionaries try it out. Train your servants to be 

helpers and workers.”  

How this subservient status of the early Korean Christian leaders affected the 

formative process of the Korean Church will be discussed later; let it suffice here to note 

that the missionaries in Korea did not attempt to change traditional status society by 

applying the Christian egalitarianism they advocated to the reality they encountered in 

Korea. Rather, they established themselves as “high” status teachers with respect to the “low” status converts and thus generally adopted and smoothly fit the traditional social 

hierarchy based upon the Confucian notion of an absolute status distinction between the 

gentleman and the ignorant.  

   

Missionaries and the Korean Aristocracy 

The Korean ruling elites who suppressed the Catholics for so many years in order 

to protect the Confucian orthodoxy could not favor Protestantism. Not only were the major 

teachings the same in both religions but the Korean Protestant converts were no different from the Catholics in terms of their class background and their relation to the foreign 

missionary. In their eyes, Christians were all an impoverished, ignorant mass who blindly 

followed foreign authority for money and protection. This image was not entirely 

unfounded. High-class yangbans naturally scorned the subservient status of Korean 

converts to the Protestant missionary and despised them for it. Even though they soon 

learned that the treaty condition of extraterritoriality meant they could not quell Korean Protestants by force, yangban nevertheless maintained an antagonistic attitude toward the 

missionaries and Christians, harassing them when occasion allowed, and few of them dared 

to join the Church. 

The absence of upper-class Koreans in the Christian constituency was conspicuous 

from the beginning. After the first decade of missionary work, the Methodist mission 

admitted that “most of our work has been among the poorer class, and I believe that our 

work among this class has proved far more successful and its results far more lasting than 

among the class of nobles."  The Presbyterians had the same impression. According to Lillias H. Underwood, the wife of Horace G. Underwood, the early members of the 

Saemunan church, the first Presbyterian Church in Seoul in 1890s, “were all poor” and their occupations were “carpenters, merchants, farmers, policemen, interpreters”, whose 

technical labor was considered “low” in the Korean status society, and “none of them 

earned much over five dollars a month.”  

 Consequently, the yangbans disdained the Church as the gathering place of the low. Even in the 1920s, the descendants of the yangbans “largely considered Christianity as the 

religion for coolies and beggars.”  The lack of social dignity and respect for the Korean Christian image, which was established at the beginning of the mission, left a profound 

impact on subsequent Korean Christian development. It completely alienated the status 

conscious Korean elites from the Church and thus Christianity spread mainly among the 

socially weak. Protestant Christianity, then, did not break traditional social status 

distinctions in Korean society. Rather, it underscored existing status distinctions by 

infiltrating into the lower classes only, while alienating the upper class.  

Finally, the missionaries’ failure to attract yangbans to the Church soon led them to 

consider the yangban persona non grata. They often took the yangban’s resilient opposition 

to Christianity as a challenge to missionary authority and identified them more or less as 

enemies. Their anti-yangban sentiment was no secret and publicly disclosed, especially to American Christian audiences at home. According to Daniel Gifford (NP), a typical 

yangban had the following traits.  

 

He has, in a measure, the intellectual power of a man, with the actual knowledge of a child… [He] has become so self-conceited that Socrates himself could not convince him of his ignorance. He is color-blind to everything modern… He is slave to the traditions and customs transmitted from antiquity. His thinking has no breadth nor originality… [He] displays a ceremonious politeness that is certainly charming. But do not for a moment be deceived. There is very little heart in it.  

 

The missionary-yangban relation thus was mutually antagonistic from the early days of the 

mission and stood in stark contrast to the subservient but intimate master-servant 

relationship shared between the missionaries and lower-class Korean Christians. This 

class-biased structure of the Korean Church continued for many years to come and kept Koreans from being united under the cross. 

 

Protestant Social Elites: Two Notable Exceptions 

The absence of yangban Christian in the early Korean Christian development was 

a general rule but there were always some exceptions. In Korea in the 1890s, there were only a few such exceptional individuals who were elite yangban and Christian at the same 

time. Here it is worth noting about the two names, who played an inproportionately large 

role, Yun Ch’i-ho (1864-1945) and Sŏ Chae-p’il (1864-1951).   

  Yun was born in Asan, Ch’ungch’ong Province, in 1864 as son of wealthy yangban, Yun Ung-nyŏl, who then served as a high-ranking military official in the Chosŏn court. Yun 

was known for his intellectual excellence from an early age and selected by the court as a 

member of a special envoy to Japan in 1881, when he was only seventeen. His mission was 

to accompany Kim Okkyun, the head of the Progressive Party in the Korean Court, and 

master the Japanese language as well as modern scholarship and technology. While in 

Japan, he not only mastered Japanese but also learned some English and thus employed by General Lucius Foote (1826–1913), the first American Minister to Korea, as his translator 

and returned to Korea with him to work in the U.S. Legation. 

Sŏ Chae-p’il came from a very similar background to that of Yun. He was from a 

yangban family and was also dispatched to study in Japan at a young age. He was enrolled in Japanese Military Academy and studied modern military technology there. Also, like Yun, Sŏ was a protégée of Kim Okkyun and closely associated with him as a member of the 

Progressive Party. Therefore, it was natural that, when Kim Okkyun staged a place coup in 1882 in order to oust the conservatives from the Chosŏn court, Sŏ would take an active part 

in it as a military specialist and command the armed units to occupy and defend the royal 

palace. Yun Ch’i-ho himself, though a progressive, did not play an active part in the coup, 

although his father Ung-nyŏl was involved in the coup on the side of the Progressives. Thus, 

when the coup failed due to Chinese intervention, Sŏ and Yun, were forced into exile.  

Sŏ fled to Japan and then to the United States in exile, while his family including 

his wife and children were all executed by the Chosŏn court. Subsequently, Sŏ migrated to 

the United States. While in the States, Sŏ studied medicine and obtained a medical degree 

to be a professional physician. He then married with an American woman and naturalized 

to obtain U.S. citizenship with a new Anglicized name, Phillip Jaisohn. It was through his 

direct American experience that he came to adopt the Christian way of life and he was 

baptized as a Methodist.  

By contrast, Yun fled to Shanghai through the good offices of Lucius Foote and 

enrolled in Anglo-Chinese College, a Southern Methodist mission school. During his 

studies, Yun was inspired by intellectual and kind missionary teachers and after a long 

period of contemplation, he agreed to receive baptism as a Southern Methodist. Because of 

this denominational connection, he proceeded to pursue advanced studies in Methodist 

college in the American South. He first studied religion and theology at Vanderbilt College 

in Tennessee and then proceeded to study the same at Emory College, Georgia. Upon 

graduation in 1893, he still could not return to Korea as the conservative was still in power. Instead, he returned to Shanghai to teach at his alma mater, Anglo-Chinese school and 

married with a Chinese Christian woman there.  

The Japanese victory over China in 1894 led to the collapse of the conservative 

cabinet in the Korean court and a new government was formed under Japanese tutelage by 

the surviving members of the former Progressive Party. With this dramatic change of Korean politics, Yun and Sŏ were finally able to come back to Korea after a long period of 

exile, where their former colleagues were now in power. 

As will be discussed in Chapter 5, Yun and Sŏ soon established the Independence Club to promote Korean nationalism, while publishing the first Korean newspapers in 

vernacular, Tongnip sinmun [The Independence]. They taught at mission schools and made 

various efforts for the dissemination of modern education. Yun and Sŏ happened to be Christians, but the current literature on Korean history often identifies them as 

representative Korean Christian leaders. However, as this chapter demonstrates, the life and 

career of Yun and Sŏ were so different from those of ordinary Korean Christians at that 

time that it is completely misleading to view them as the product of a Korean Christian 

movement pioneered by the American Protestant Missions. They were not led to the Christian faith by the young conservative American missionaries in Korea, who used their 

imperial privilege to win the souls of the oppressed. They were not intellectually inspired 

by most American missionaries in Korea, who came straight out of college or the academy 

to Korea, but by well-trained college professors in Shanghai or in the United States. While 

most Korean Christians had no direct access to western scholarship, Yun and Sŏ had easy 

access to it, being well versed in Japanese and English as well as Classical Chinese. In the 

case of Yun, his command of English was so sophisticated that he won a prize in an 

oratorical contest in his college days in the U.S. and kept his diary in English, from which 

more will be quoted in later chapters.  

In sum, there were no other Korean Christians besides Yun and Sŏ who had a 

comparable social status and breadth of knowledge in western civilization in Korea at the 

end of the nineteenth century time. Unlike Christian leaders in Meiji Japan, most of whom studied abroad and competed with missionaries in the intellectual arena, Korean Christians 

had no equal opportunity because Korea had long been a secluded country and was just 

beginning to open outside world. In this sense, Yun and Sŏ were not merely exceptional Christians. They were exceptional Koreans who had no parallel in Korean society at that 

time.  

 

 

   

 

Chapter 3 Church Formation under Missionary Control 

 

The previous chapter examined the formation of power relations between foreign 

missionaries and Korean converts and found that a highly asymmetrical relationship existed 

between the two parties. The missionary always held controlling power over the Korean 

convert, who was dependent upon economic, social, and political support from the 

missionaries. Moreover, the missionaries effectively fit themselves into the traditional 

social hierarchy and presented themselves as aristocratic rulers to instruct lower-class Koreans, who made up the majority of converts.  

Despite these observations, previous studies have commonly emphasized that the 

Korean Church had been formed under the Korean Christian leadership because the 

Missions, the Presbyterian one in particular, adopted a distinctive mission policy, called the 

“Nevius Method,” that granted more freedom to local initiative and prioritized  

self-government (in church management), self-support (in finance), and self-propagation 

(in evangelism) in the Church.  The exponential growth of the Korean Presbyterian Church has been largely attributed to success of the Nevius Method.  

This chapter analyzes how the asymmetrical relationship of power between 

missionaries and local converts was reflected at the level of church organization and argues 

that Korean initiative along the lines of the Nevius Method was actually impracticable since 

the missionaries carried their power over Koreans into the realms of everyday life and the Church. By institutionalizing their superior status in the Korean Church, the missionaries 

perpetuated their rule over Korean Christians without granting Korean autonomy. 

 

Christian Growth without Church Organization 

As freedom of missionary work was gradually secured under the protection of 

extraterritorial rights, the Protestant missions expanded their evangelistic campaigns from Seoul to the countryside. Officially, missionaries could not travel freely in the interior and 

were supposed to live on designated foreign settlements, but missionaries were not 

constrained to obey this rule as long as the Korean government acquiesced. And despite the general anti-foreign and anti-missionary sentiment that was widespread among the Korean 

populace, once the power and authority of the missionaries became generally recognized 

they were able to attract many Koreans from the lower classes who needed protection. As a 

result, all Protestant missions could increase their church memberships relatively easily, 

especially after the Sino-Japanese War in 1894. But the Presbyterian Mission won the 

largest number of converts. The statistical record shows that the Mission had 3 organized 

churches, 300 unorganized churches with 4,793 communicants and 12,694 adherents under 

its jurisdiction in 1900.   

Numerical growth, however, was not accompanied by the formation of an 

independent Korean Church governed by local Christian leaders. This is because Protestant 

missions did not pay due attention to the training of Korean Christian leaders and pass 

ecclesiastical authority into Korean hands. In fact, the Mission did not ordain even a single Korean pastor for more than two decades after the beginning of missionary activities. As a 

result, in 1900, there were 23 Korean evangelists but all were unordained helpers to the 

missionaries and had no ecclesiastical power to examine baptismal candidates, administer sacraments or discipline Korean congregations. All of these important powers were 

monopolized by the ordained missionaries, whose number counted only 29 in 1900. As a 

matter of fact, Sŏ Kyŏng-jŏ, one of the first Korean Protestant Christians, who received 

baptism from a Scottish missionary in Manchuria in 1882 and had worked as an active 

evangelist in Korea ever since, was still an unordained assistant to the missionary and paid 

by the Mission in 1902.  He had to wait another five years before he was finally ordained 

as a minister of the Korean Church in 1907, a point which will be discussed later. In short, 

even after two decades of missionary work, there was still neither a Korean minister nor Korean Church with a capital “C”, i.e. as an institutionalized and unified religious body 

represented by Koreans. Instead, what existed were dozens of local evangelists and 

hundreds of churches, both in the city and countryside, all of which were under missionary 

jurisdiction. According to missionary statistics taken in 1900, the majority of local churches, 300 out of 303 churches, were “unorganized,  meaning they possessed no resident leader 

and steady organization, and were often called “outstations” of the Mission, rather than “churches,” where the missionaries were supposed to reach out on regular basis from their “station” in the city.  

In reality, however, such a small number of missionaries could not provide 

adequate pastoral care to the increasing number of congregations scattered across the 

country. Since missionaries mainly lived in the foreign compound of Korean cities and 

visited churches in the countryside only at times of occasional itinerating, it was impossible 

to visit and provide sufficient instructions for rural congregations. Samuel A. Moffett 

(1864-1939, NP) reported this difficulty in 1901.  

 

In the ten trips of 86 days, all the time which I was able to spare from the city work, so much of the time was necessarily taken up with the urgent and important work of examination of candidates for baptism that too little time was left for instruction and for more thorough organization… I have been able to provide for the administration of Lord’s Supper in but six of the churches this year, a fact I very deeply regret...  

 

The missionaries were aware that they lacked the power necessary to supervise the 

numerous Korean churches. They therefore made some Korean Christians their personal “helpers” (chosa) and dispatched them to take care of local churches on their behalf. 

However, these helpers were not granted the power to manage the local churches, and their 

main duty was to relay missionary instructions to local congregations. As Samuel Moffett 

admitted, “Efficient as the helpers are in their sphere of service… they have not the 

missionary's power of organization of new work,”  and thus could not serve as ministers. In addition, even the combined force of the missionaries and helpers was still too small to 

cover all the work in the assigned missionary territory, called “the circuit,” and even Korean helpers, being committed to other duties, were not always available. In a report 

from 1903, William Baird (NP) described the difficulty of managing the circuit with limited 

manpower.  

 

[My] circuit has received less attention from me than I should have desired. The two helpers, Pang Ki Chang and Kim Hyo Syun, have continued to travel on regular circuits, visiting each group about once a month, when not prevented by class work... Pang has given a part of the time to studies in preparation for the ministry. The circuit has therefore not received as much of his attention as formerly.  

 

Samuel Moffett had the same problem. He had 33 outstations under his charge and assigned 

his helpers to take care of “from four to twelve outstations with their tributary groups of believers in many villages.” Still, his burden was too heavy to carry out and he had to state 

in his annual report that he had “not been able to visit all the outstations, seven of them not 

having received even one visit during the year” and “there are a number of places in which 

interested inquirers are only waiting for a visit from the missionary.”   

Closely observing the mission field, the missionaries understood well that, “In all 

the region there is a pressing need for [Korean] leaders or pastors” with the growing 

number of Christians in Korea, but they were reluctant to produce Korean ministers and 

delegate their ecclesiastical power to them because “administrative problems and the duties 

of real spiritual leadership fall heavily upon those who were capable of the simpler labors 

of gathering the first converts about them.”  In other words, the missionaries did not 

believe that Korean leaders could do more than the “simple labor of gathering” people to 

the church and had no intention of delegating their ecclesiastical power to the local 

leadership. At best, then, Korean Christian leaders were supposed to remain “helpers” to 

the missionaries.   

Leaving aside the question of whether missionaries made a fair judgment of 

Korean leadership, let us note here that the division of labor and the hierarchical relationship between the missionary and the Korean helpers resembled that of an absentee 

landlord and his peasant. Developing this analogy, we might say that the missionaries 

possessed the Korean “outstations” as property and cultivated them from afar by means of “helpers,” but they never missed the chance to harvest the “converts” of these areas by 

dictating baptismal rights and report to the mission board the number of Koreans souls they 

had won on Korean soil. It may be said that the missionaries were the commanders in the 

mission field and enlisted Korean evangelists as their subordinates, without paying due 

respect to them as the same workers of God.  

 

Salary Gap between Missionary and Korean Evangelist 

The missionary’s lack of respect for the Korean mission workers is also evidenced 

by their pay rate, especially when compared with the missionary’s salary. During the period 

from 1900-1905, Presbyterian missionaries received their annual salary from the mission 

board according to the following formula: Married male missionary, $1,250 (= 2,500 yen); 

single male missionary, $833.33 (1,666 yen); single woman, $650 (1,300 yen) ; Per child, $100 (200 yen).  Thus, the average missionary family with two children, for instance, 

received 2,900 yen a year. In contrast, the Korean helpers received only 130-180 yen per 

annum from the mission, while male colporteurs and Bible women, who travelled widely to 

sell Bibles and distribute religious tracts, received even less, 50-70 yen and 40 yen 

respectively.  On average, the basic income of the missionary was twenty times higher 

than that of the Korean helper.  

To some extent, the salary gap between the missionary and the Korean worker was 

inevitable and corresponded to the general economic gap between the United States and Korea. It is important to note, however, that the Korean church worker’s pay was kept as 

low as that of an average servant or manual laborer of the day. According to the Japanese 

governmental survey in 1906, the average daily wage for a Korean carpenter (daiku/moksu), 

construction worker (dokata/nogada), and domestic servant (genan/hanam) was estimated 

around 1 yen, 0.6 yen and 0.5 yen.  Assuming that each laborer works at least twenty 

days a month, this would make their annual salaries 240 yen, 144 yen, and 120 yen respectively. According to missionary testimony from 1910, a peasant’s daily wage was 20 

cents (=0.4 yen), making an annual salary of 96 yen a year, based upon the same 

assumption.  This salary range was exactly the same as that of Korean evangelists under 

missionary pay. The Korean evangelists were rated the same as the manual worker in the Korean labor market.  

The breakdown of annual expenditures for an average single male missionary 

proves this point. As seen below in the “servant” column of Table 1, the missionary 

calculates the average pay for a house servant at 75 yen per person. This sum almost equals 

that of the Korean colporteur and is even higher than that of the Bible woman. Also, 

because servants were usually boarded in the missionary’s house and there were no 

independent costs for food and lodging, their 75 yen salary can be taken as their net income. It is thus likely that missionary servants were much better off, and perhaps, closer to the 

income level of the Korean helper, who received 130-180 yen, from which they had to pay 

for the daily necessities. While this point cannot be proven conclusively, it would be no 

mere coincidence if the net income of a domestic servant and a Korean evangelist was the  Table 1  Breakdown of a Single Male Missionary’s Annual Expenditure   

Items of Expenditure  Total (Yen) 

Board @1.75 yen per day 638 

Laundry 20 

Lights 13 

Fuel, Wood and Coal 75 

Clothing 185 

Servant 1&1/2@ 75yen per year 112 

Books, periodicals, Stationary, postage 100 

Furniture, matting and Repairs 25 

Dentistry 40 

Public subscription(tract society, YMCA) 35 

Charity, one tenth 125 

Sewing and mending 6 

Linen, bedding, towels etc. 15 

Insurance 50 

Itinerating outfit and repair 10 

Supplies, toilet, blacking, watch repairs 20 20 

Total  1469 

   

OTHER LEGITIMATE EXPENSES  

Annual Meeting expense 50 

Tracts and deficits in evangelistic work 50 to 150 

Summer vacations, health trips 25 to 150 

Bicycle and repairs, horse and feed, 30 

 Total  155 

Grand Total 1624 yen 

 

same because they came from identical backgrounds and the former could become the latter 

upon the missionary’s personal nomination.  

The above chart also illuminates how different the quality of life was between the 

missionary and the Korean workers. To take a few examples, the single male missionary 

expended 638 yen for “Board”, but this item alone is four to five times as large as the Korean helper’s total salary per year. Even if the missionary heavily depended upon the 

expensive imported food from abroad,  the gap in food expenses is significant. Similarly, “fuel, coal and wood” were necessities for both the missionary and the Korean alike, but 

the missionary’s annual expenditure of 75 yen exceeds the annual salary of a Korean 

colporteur. Lastly, the vacation fee from 25 to 150 yen is considered “legitimate” and no 

equivalent reward was offered the Koreans. Of course, the Korean Christians were the 

natives and used to the local environment, but if refreshment was the reward for labor, the Koreans might have shared in it as they did almost the same labor.  

Whatever justification there may be for such differential treatment, the obvious 

consequence was that many poor Koreans flocked around the missionary for material gain. 

Edwin Kagin (NP) testifies,  

 

Many Koreans have the idea that the "Moksa"[minister] is a sort of inexhaustible supply of ready cash. Says your [Korean language] teacher, 

"Please loan me $200.00 to put out on interest so I can pay my daughter's expenses at the school in Seoul…” [A Korean Christian] Choe sends a friend and she stands up before the missionaries and with a flowing introduction… eloquently pictures her friend’s need and asks for a loan of $5.00 for him in order that he may buy materials to put up a new house”… Helper Kim’s wife has just had an operation performed… He has no money, no house of his own, and has been asked to move out of the house he is in. There is no way out of it says he, than that the “Moksa” lend him $40.00 to buy a house. And so it continues---requests for money come from all sources and for all manner of things. The problem is to give wisely and to those who are worthy.  

 

Hence, the Korean evangelists who received regular pay from the mission were considered “worthy” from the missionary viewpoint, working for the Christian cause rather than mere 

material gain. However, the fact that they received as little as the average wage for a house 

servant or day laborer of that day made it a disrespectable occupation and degraded the 

popular image of Christians. Even if Korean church workers were satisfied with their work and pay, they were seen, in the eyes of other Koreans, as simply in need of money and 

dependent on the foreigners. Eva Field (NP) testified to this effect about her 

servant-evangelist. 

 

Sometimes the impudent question "how much money do you get for preaching this doctrine?" is asked [for my preaching servant], and then she replies "I am not paid for preaching. I 'm only the lady's servant, and I’m telling you of Jesus because He has taken away my sins…As yet she has not been employed as a Bible Woman, and does not wish to be, her reason being that she wishes to be in a position where she cannot be accused of preaching for money.  

 

This anecdote was, of course, intended to highlight the genuine faithfulness of the Korean 

servant. At the same time, however, it also reveals that the Bible woman under foreign pay 

was a socially despised occupation. The position of missionary servant was little better. The 

popular Korean perception was that Christians were affiliated with the missionary primarily 

for money, a view based on the known fact that they were hired by the missionaries.  

 

Exclusion of Korean Leadership in the Formation of the Presbyterian Church 

While the Presbyterian Mission controlled all phases of mission work and kept Korean workers under their command for the first two decades of the mission, it was not 

without a formal vision to establish a Korean Presbyterian Church as an independent body 

run by ordained Korean ministers. Nevertheless, they were very slow to move in that 

direction. In 1893, the four Presbyterian Missions—U.S. North and South, Australian and Canadian—jointly established the Council of the Presbyterian Mission, which aimed at 

coordinating efforts to prepare for establishing an independent native Church in future. It 

was stipulated, however, that the Mission hold the “controlling ecclesiastical powers in 

relation to the native Church until the organization of latter in accordance with Presbyterian 

usage” was created and that no ecclesiastical authority would be granted to Korean 

congregations.  Moreover, the Council was composed entirely of male missionaries and 

no Korean leaders were allowed to sit in at the sessions of the Council. In other words, the Council continued to discuss the issues of the Korean congregation and prepare for the 

future independence of the Korean Church without having any Korean representative hear 

their voice. In 1901, the Council for the first time allowed several Korean leaders to sit in 

on part of the session, which was conducted in Korean, but the Korean-language session 

had no legislative power and all such power was exercised by the English language sessions 

of the missionaries.  In sum, Koreans were completely excluded from the 

decision-making process of the Council, where the future independence of the Korean Church was discussed over many years.  

The Presbyterian Mission’s unwillingness to include Korean leaders in the church 

administration was based on their low view of Korean qualifications. Thus, the Mission 

held that “ecclesiastical and administrative responsibility should not be laid upon the people 

until men truly qualified to discharge such responsibility have been raised up, and the 

spiritual state of the Christians warrants and invites it.”196 In this age of imperialism, such 

a low view of the native converts was nothing new in other mission fields and contained 

some truth, especially in the case of Korea, where the majority of the converts came from 

the poorest and least educated class. However, the Korean Mission’s fault lay in the fact 

that they took no action to improve the situation, knowingly neglecting the education and 

training of the future leaders of the Korean Church. 

The absence of a qualified native leadership in the Korean Church was well known 

to the Board and was the cause of some concern. Robert Speer (1855–1918), the Secretary 

of the Presbyterian Foreign Mission Board, who visited Korea for field inspection in 1897, 

generally agreed that the Mission should hold ecclesiastical authority over the immature Korean church and admitted that “this caution in ordaining men and in establishing a native 

ecclesiastical body, like a Presbytery, lessens and postpones certain dangers.” Nevertheless, 

he did not forget to point out the danger of maintaining such practices since “the times of 

delicacy will arise when natives are ordained and ecclesiastical authority passes into their 

hands.”197  

  Five years later in 1902, the new Board Secretary, Arthur Brown, also visited Korea and found the Mission was still wanting in a unified church organization. He also 

observed that this absence of church organization was due to “the lack of duly qualified 

men for church officers.”198 Unlike Speer, however, Brown was not entirely persuaded by 

the Mission’s everlasting excuse that there was no suitable men in Korea. Rather he 

                                                   

197

 Ibid., 12. 198

 Arthur Judson Brown and Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. Board of Foreign Missions., 

Report of a visitation of the Korea mission of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions (New York, N.Y.: The Board, 1902), 15. 

suspected the real reason might be the too rigid qualifications the missionaries imposed 

upon Koreans. In his official report, Brown questioned: 

 

What is meant by “suitability”? I cordially agree with the Korean missionaries that an office-bearer in the Church of God should be a man of more than ordinary wisdom and spiritual character. Undoubtedly, the missionaries are right in saying that comparatively few such men have yet been developed in Korea… [but] in my brief contact with the Korean Christians, I got the impression that, from the viewpoint of spiritual life, they averaged as high as an equal number of American Christians…Is there not risk of going to an extreme in deferring organization of the already numerous and rapidly increasing Christians of Korea until ideal church officers can be found?199 

 

Nonetheless, Brown’s high estimate of the Korean potentials conflicted with the majority 

view of the Mission. The missionaries in the field knew how hard the Korean Christians 

were struggling in dire poverty and few of them were trained to take any leadership role. William B. Harrison (Southern Presbyterian Mission, hereafter “SP” 200) in Chŏlla Province 

saw that most of his Christian constituency was “poverty stricken” and observed that “they 

cannot buy books, they cannot give much time to study.” Understandably, he felt 

                                                   

199

 Ibid., 15. 200

 Southern Presbyterian Mission (The Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church in the United States, South) began its mission work in1892 and occupied the two southern provinces of North and South Chŏlla Province as its exclusive mission territory. See the following discussion about the territorial division in this chapter.  

 

despondent, observing that “the amount of patient laborious teaching that it takes to make 

of these men strong intelligent workers who can be trusted to build alone is appalling.”  

It is beyond doubt that the paucity of “intelligent workers” was a structural 

problem rooted in the fact that the Christian constituencies were predominantly 

undereducated and even illiterate. Such paucity, however, was also in part the result of the Presbyterian policy of keeping their intellectual standards for the Korean Christian 

leadership only slightly above that of the lay believers. The background and problems 

inherent in mission education policy will be discussed in the next chapter. Suffice it to note 

here that the Mission was in no position to bemoan the paucity of qualified leaders among 

Korean Christians when the missionaries themselves made no systematic effort to train Korean ministers.  

Nonetheless, pushed by Brown’s report, the Presbyterian Mission at last began to 

move toward organizing an independent Korean Church. In 1902, the Council finally voted 

for a resolution stating that, “Where there shall be at least twelve churches with one or 

more ordained Elders each, and at least three Koreans whom the Council deem ready for 

ordination to the ministry, a Presbytery shall be organized as the Supreme Ecclesiastical Court of the Presbyterian Church of Korea.”  This resolution was significant in that the 

missionaries clarified specific conditions that would allow Korean congregations to 

organize an independent Church. Their conditions, however, were still too demanding 

given that there was not a single ordination yet.   

Moreover, along with the above resolution, the Council passed another important 

resolution, this time determining the future missionary relationship to the Korean Church 

when it became an independent body. The resolution read:  

 

The ministers who are members of Presbytery shall be members of the same only as far as concerns the rights and privileges of voting and participating in all of its proceedings, but ecclesiastically they shall be subject to the authority and discipline of their home churches, retaining their full ecclesiastical connection with those Churches.   

 

The significance of this article was two-fold. First, the missionaries were already 

determined to stay in the Korean Presbytery and exercise their power as voting members 

even after the native Church was formally organized. Second, while they retained 

ecclesiastical power over the Korean Church, they did not transfer their membership from their home church to the Korean Church. In so doing, they could be subject to the 

ecclesiastical authority of their home church in North America, but exempt from the local 

ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the Korean Presbytery. In other words, the missionaries could 

enjoy a sort of “ecclesiastical extraterritoriality” that would allow them to govern the Korean Church but never be governed by it. Just as the missionaries possessed 

extraterritorial privileges in Korean society, they also wanted to enjoy a similar status in the 

independent Korean Church that they were making.  

    

Abrupt Preparation for Independence  

In 1903, the Presbyterian Mission officially asked for the Board’s approval to 

organize an “independent Korean Presbyterian Church” according to the plan adopted by 

the Council in the previous year.  The Executive Council of the Board approved the plan 

of organizing a united native Presbyterian Church with other corporation Missions but 

raised strong doubts about the absence of ordained native leaders and the continuing 

dominance of the proposed native Church by the missionaries.  

 

We question whether the time has yet come for the proposed organization in Korea. In all the Mission, we have not a single ordained native minister and only three regularly organized churches; all the rest of our large number of Christians being in groups with leaders appointed by the Mission--- but without an ecclesiastical organization or ordained officers.   

 

The Board was clearly aware that the proposed independent Korean Church would place no 

Koreans in administrative positions. To this criticism, Samuel Moffett, representing the Korean Mission, urged that “another three years will probably see from twenty to thirty 

churches with elders and five or six men ready for ordination.” The Board, however, 

rejected this argument on the grounds that 

 

Even then it is manifest that a Korean Church organization in the near future would be so largely composed of missionaries that it would be a distinctly foreign church rather than a native Korean Church. The Korean ministers coming into it slowly and one by one are to be completely overshadowed by the foreign membership, and we might thus at the outset hamper even if we did not indefinitely postpone the very purpose we have in mind; namely, the founding of a self-governing as well as a self-supporting and self-propagating native church.  

 

Moreover, the Board criticized the idea that missionaries could become voting members of 

the native Church, while retaining membership in their home church.   

 

Would not the missionaries… be in an anomalous position in that they would really control the native Korean Church and at the same time be themselves primarily responsible to the separate jurisdictions. It would apparently place the Korean Churches under the complete domination of the foreigners, who would control alike the mission and the church and thus leave the Korean ministers and elders no sphere whatever for the development of individual responsibility and life.   

 

In conclusion, the Board suggested that “it would be wiser to defer the organization of the 

proposed Korean Church until there shall be a sufficient number of Korean elders and 

members to form at least a considerable majority of the church and that it would be well for 

the Mission to carefully consider whether the relations of the foreign missionaries to the 

church when formed might not wisely be those of corresponding members rather than those 

of voting members.”  

Facing opposition from the Board, the Mission suddenly sped up its training of 

native leaders and administered a series of ordinations of local leaders, which they had long 

either neglected or paid minor attention to. The Council Report in 1904 announced its plan to start belated theological training for native leaders, with the expectation to accept 26 

students.  Also, it gave statistical evidence that the number of ordained Korean elders 

had more than doubled from 5 to 11 and that the native “helpers”, who could become 

candidates for eldership in the future, had increased from 66 to 86 in the past year.  In 

this way, the Mission attempted to convince the Board that the native church was quickly 

moving towards self-government.  

While the Mission complied with the Board’s suggestion to increase native 

ordinations, it did not change its position that the missionaries should preside over the 

native Church even after independence. In fact, the Mission was quite bold in defending 

their privileged position. 

 

We believe it is necessary for the proper development of the native church that we who have fathered the flock be privileged to help direct its affairs for a time when it starts off independently. From complete dependence in ecclesiastical affairs to complete independence is too great a step for the Korean church to take in a day. It is better for the youth to enjoy authority, real authority, soon, but autonomy needs a little postponement.  

    

By the time of this statement, not “a day” but two full decades had passed since the 

beginning of the Korean Mission and the Korea missionaries at times propagated to the 

home audience through missionary media that Korean Christians were becoming 

increasingly self-governing, self-supporting and self-propagating. However, their candid 

views were different. They were still wary of Korean Christian qualifications for 

independence and thus believed that Koreans should “enjoy authority” of the foreign 

fathers of the church. Simply put, the missionaries knew that the independence of the Korean Church was only nominal and they were determined to maintain controlling power 

over the Korean Church.  

Because church independence was only nominal, it is hardly surprising that other 

ecclesiastical procedures for organizing the Church were also handled without Korean 

involvement. For instance, the Confession of Faith, which in theory had to be made by Korean Christians as their subjective and voluntary confession of faith, was actually 

prepared by the Council of the Missions, without any Korean involvement. The Confession 

used in Korea was actually a pure recycle of the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Church in India without preamble, the only difference being that “India” in the text was replaced with “Korea.”  The Form of Government, which defines the polity of the Church, was also drafted by the missionaries. They first thought of modeling this document 

after the Westminster Form of Government, but soon dropped the idea because “it was 

better not to put upon the infant Church such a wrought out Form of Government.”    On September 17, 1907, the Korean Presbyterian Church finally came into being 

as an independent native Church. The membership of the new Presbytery was composed of 

twenty-eight missionaries and forty Korean elders with the Korean majority. Not 

surprisingly, however, missionaries occupied the key administrative positions. Samuel Moffett, who had advocated for the need of prolonged missionary guidance, assumed the 

chair of Moderator, to preside over the general management of the Church, while Graham 

Lee was elected as Treasurer to control its finances.  Under foreign leadership, three Koreans, Pang Ki-ch’ang, Han Sŏk-chin, and Song In-sŏ were installed in the offices of 

vice-moderator, clerk and assistant clerk.215 

This prolonged missionary dominance over Korean Church offices did not reflect a 

gradualist approach to the transfer of power to a native leadership. The offices of 

Moderator and Treasurer of the Presbytery continued to be occupied by missionaries, and 

even when the organization of the Korean Church was expanded to include plural Presbyteries under the General Assembly in 1912, the Assembly itself was still presided 

over by Horace G. Underwood as the Moderator, and William Blair, the treasurer.  The 

missionaries saw no problem in monopolizing the highest church offices because “none of 

the Koreans has as yet had sufficient practice in leading such large bodies in parliamentary 

practice work, such that they felt willing to accept the office of Moderator.”  It goes 

without saying that the missionary’s privilege of “ecclesiastical extraterritoriality” went 

unchallenged and that they governed the Korean Church without being governed by Korean Christians.  

It is true that the number of Korean delegates to the Assembly continued to grow 

and outnumber the missionaries. However, the missionaries soon introduced a new rule to 

reduce the number of Korean delegates to the Assembly at one in every five “Sessions”.  The “Session” was a congregational meeting at the local level and one delegate from five 

sessions meant that only one Korean pastor from five local churches could attend the Assembly as a voting member, while each individual ordained missionary could attend and 

vote in the Assembly.  In short, one missionary vote weighed five times more than the Korean votes.   

   

Korean Acceptance of Missionary Authority 

As we will discuss later, there were sporadic bursts of Korean frustration against 

missionary rule over the Korean Church, but the majority of the Church leadership 

remained loyal to missionary authority. Far from rebelling, they took missionary authority 

for granted and made little effort to reduce missionary influence even when given the 

opportunity to do so. For instance, in 1913 and 1914 the missionaries asked the General Assembly if the Korean members desired the missionaries to attend the Assembly only as a 

delegate body, one or two in every five missionaries according to the same formula used for 

selecting Korean delegates. After much deliberation, however, the final decision was 

postponed for a year, and the issue was eventually voted down the following year.  

Missionaries repeatedly suggested reducing the number of missionary delegates in the General Assembly, but this suggestion was repeatedly rejected by the Church’s Korean 

membership.   

The currently available sources do not reveal what kind of discussions was held 

over the issue of missionary presence in the Assembly. According to missionary testimony, 

however, the main source of Korean objections was that they were concerned that “it might 

look to outsiders as though there were friction between the missionaries and the Korean Christian, which was not a fact.”  If this statement is true, it indicates that Korean Christians wanted to present themselves as close affiliates or even subordinates to the 

foreign missionaries rather than independent-spirited church leaders who sought to promote 

more Korean autonomy in the Church. To them, the missionaries were still the guarantors 

of their status in society. Thus, the more missionaries there were occupying governing 

positions in the Church the better. It seems that their subservient attitude had much to do 

with their low social-status and their former careers as missionary servants and other 

employees. Missionaries took such attitudes for genuine Korean appreciation of their 

presence. This missionary belief in Korean gratitude for their presence in the Church continued for some time. Thus, when Charles A. Clark (NP) recalled his missionary years 

in 1930s, he proudly stated that “there has never been a movement among the Koreans with 

a view to demanding from the mission more control” and “it has always been offered them 

before they sought it.”   

In fact, Clark’s statement was quite self-deceptive, as missionaries at that time 

were facing powerful demand for more control over the Church by some Korean Christians, 

especially after March First Movement (see Chapter 8 and Epilogue). For instance, the 

manuscript of the Annul of the Korean Presbyterian Church, prepared in the 1920s by Ham 

T’ae-yŏng (1873-1964), one of the Christian leaders who played central role in the March 

First Movement in 1919 (Chapter 8), contained the following passage:  

 

After the formation of the General Assembly of the Korean Presbyterian Church [in 1912]… it is clear that the Church does not belong to any of the Missions and it must be clear to the missionaries. [But] They have not transferred [their church membership] from either the Mission or from their home Presbytery [in North America] for some reason, yet they have apparently become a member of the Korean Presbytery and its Assembly. Moreover, if they became a member of the [Korean] Presbytery, there is no doubt that they [now] belong to it, but for some reason, the Korean Presbytery and its Assembly had no jurisdictional power [ch’irikwŏn] over the missionaries. How great this contradiction is! It is nothing but that the missionaries do not see the Korean Church as equal and do not treat us as brothers. Instead, they see us as barbaric and slave-like.  

 

For some reason, this manuscript was not printed at that time, perhaps due to missionary 

censorship, yet it would indicate that there was a growing criticism against the privileged 

missionary status within the Korean Church prior to the 1920s. At least, the missionary’s 

predominance in the Korean Church was obvious to the contemporary foreign observers in 

the 1910s. William Adams Brown, theological professor at the Union Theological Seminary in New York, who visited Korea in 1916, had a strong impression that the 

missionaries still holding the controlling power of the Korean Church and did not cover up 

the fact in his report that “in Korea we have self-support and self-propagation, but 

self-government only in name.”   

   

Discriminatory Practices against Koreans  

The unequal status of the Korean Church and the Mission was also manifested in 

qualifications for the Holy Communion. The Mission made a unique rule in Korea to 

distinguish the baptism of a convert and his admission to the Lord’s Supper. According to 

this rule, Korean converts could receive baptism “on simple profession of faith,” but could 

not partake in the Lord’s Supper until they fulfilled “more rigorous requirements” and 

received the ministerial approval.   

  It is important to note here that the separation of baptism and the admission to the Lord ’s Supper would have been an abnormal practice in the missionaries’ home church as 

it was believed that all baptized Christians were equal before God and thus sit together at 

the Lord’s table. In fact, the missionaries knew the universal rule that “if he is truly enough Christ’s disciple to be baptized into His body, he is entitled also to partake of that body 

provided for him” and that there is no “scriptural or reasonable right to deny one of these 

ordinances to a man to whom we allow the other.”  Yet, they did not apply the rule to Koreans. Arthur Brown, another Secretary of the Presbyterian Board, who toured to Korea 

in 1902, observed the practice and admitted that “from the view point of ecclesiastical organization, the Korean Church is an anomaly.”   Nevertheless, he still found it 

justifiable because “some stability in character should be attained before [Korean] believers 

are formally constituted a church.”   

Some missionaries did not share the Lord’s Supper even with qualified Koreans. Horace Underwood, the first missionary to Korea, was shocked to see that his fellow 

missionaries declined to sit with Koreans “for fear of contracting disease” in 1894.  The 

missionaries may have had some reason to be worried, given the very low standard of 

public hygiene and prevalence of cholera in Korean society at that time. However, it is 

likely that their prejudice against Koreans accentuated these fears. In fact, Underwood was 

more sympathetic to the Koreans, and was critical of the missionaries’ overreaction the 

missionaries questioning, “of what service can we be if we cannot sit down at the Lord’s 

table with these Koreans?”  

 

Denominational Rivalry and Territorial Division 

The fact that the missionaries in general neglected the individual rights of Korean Christians is also evidenced by the “territorial division” of the missionary field. This 

division was made in order to avoid denominational rivalry and overlapping of evangelical 

efforts between the Missions. Such territorial arrangements, called “comity,” were made 

constantly from the 1890s through the 1910s and each mission enjoyed the exclusive right 

of occupancy in their assigned territory, shutting out the entry of other missions. (Figure 1) 

 

    

To Korean Christians, however, this arrangement was quite unfair and 

discriminatory because missionaries made decisions without consulting with Koreans, even 

when they knew it would impact the Korean Christian’s life in significant ways. The most 

significant impact of this arrangement was that some Korean Christians were forcibly 

transferred from one denomination to another. This was the consequence of transferring all 

local Korean churches in a given region to the jurisdiction of a different mission after the 

renegotiation of missionary territories. Hence, Korean Presbyterians in one region were 

made Methodists overnight, and vice versa, when the two Missions traded a portion of their 

original constituencies to redefine their exclusive territories according to the comity 

agreement. 

The missionaries were aware that this practice was unfair and antagonized the 

Koreans, yet they believed that the ends would justify the means. For example, when the Methodist and the Presbyterian mission exchanged forty converts in a part of Anju area in 

the northern province in 1904, Arthur Becker (1879-1978, NM), reported to the Board that “not all exchanged persons are satisfied with their transport, yet I am sure the cause of 

 

Christ has been strengthened and glorified by the arrangement.”  The next year, when the 

entire Anju area was retransferred to the Presbyterians, William Blair (NP), also noted that “At first, the Methodist Christian in Anju objected, being prejudiced against us just as our 

people had been prejudiced against them.” However, the Korean opposition was suppressed 

as “Mr. Morris, the Methodist missionary in charge, showed them that it was necessary for 

the good of the whole church.”  

 The missionaries were pleased that the Koreans surrendered to their authority 

despite initial opposition. At the same time, however, they also knew that they could not 

have acted in the same way in their homeland, where the denomination was cherished as 

the most fundamental identity of Protestant Christians. Thus, Miss Helen Taylor (NP) could 

not help thinking what if the same had happened to an American church, when she visited 

an ex-Presbyterian church in Hwanghae Province that had been recently turned over to the 

Methodist Mission.  

  

146 

 

Imagine the furor in America if all the Presbyterian churches in one county were by act of General Assembly, turned over to another denomination, no matter how good, without consulting them or giving them any vote in the matter. Fancy the reception the new Bishop would get as he made a tour of his new charges! It would be anything but a triumphal procession.  

 

This statement clearly shows that the missionaries were clearly aware of practicing 

a double standard. As long as the Koreans showed themselves adaptive to this practice, 

missionaries did not see this as a problem. In fact, Miss. Taylor herself was happy to see 

that the Presbyterian-turned-Methodists still “welcomed [her] most heartily.”  The 

missions had made constant efforts to implant American denominational culture in Korea 

and told the Koreans to maintain loyalty to their denominational Church, but when it 

caused the slightest inconvenience to the missions, they did not hesitate to order Koreans to 

sacrifice their denominational loyalty. The missionaries explained that Korean obedience to 

their order was an expression of Christian tolerance, but the major reason was simply Korean subservience to missionary authority. To draw an analogy, Korean Christians were 

pawns on the mission field. They were often used, traded, or even abandoned at the will of 

the master players: the missionaries.   

  The division of missionary territory also meant that the Korean Christians had no 

opportunity to promote a common identity for themselves under a single national 

organization. As Korean Christians were separated from each other by 

regional-denominational divisions under different missionary jurisdictions, they were not 

given a chance to establish a unified Korean Church that would place the entire Korean 

peninsula under its jurisdiction. In other words, none of the denominational Korean 

Churches possessed a geographical basis on which they could claim to be the national 

Church. If Korean Christians had wanted to pursue national integrity under the name of a 

Korean Church, they needed to first break the denominational borders delineated by the Missions. This never happened and most Korean Christians remained loyal constituents of 

their mission-granted denomination.  

  Overall, the Korean Church was established in such a way as the Mission could 

maintain controlling power over it. Korean Christians certainly played a large role in 

evangelizing Korea, but their efforts did not make themselves the managers of the Church. They remained subordinates to the mission-dominated Church and were not allowed to 

stand on par with the missionaries that ranked above them within their own Church.  

Chapter 4 Mission School Management 

 

In mission fields where Christianity was prohibited, it was common for 

educational and medical work, often called “indirect evangelism,” to precede direct 

evangelism. Thus, the Missions often built schools and hospitals before church and tried to 

disseminate Christian message in a form of western scholarship and medicine. This was the 

case in Korea where anti-Christian law was still in effect in the early stage of the mission.  

Of these “indirect” mission institutions, schools had a larger impact on the 

formative process of Korean Church because they produced a new generation of Korean 

Christians who were supposed to lead the subsequent development of the Korean Church. In the existing literature, mission education has generally been positively evaluated not 

only because it produced Christians but also because it provided modern education through 

which Korean Christian youth acquired new knowledge about the world and consolidated 

their intellectual base for Korean nationalism.  

The mission schools, however, were just as much under the Mission as the Church. 

Because the Mission had controlling power over school management and its curriculum, 

Korean Christians could not always learn what they wanted to learn. This chapter examines the formative process of the mission schools in Korea analyzes how missionary power 

affected Christian education in Korea and the course of Christian development in Korea at 

large. 

 

Presbyterian School 

  The Presbyterian Mission conducted its educational work on two principles. These 

principles are well summarized by Richard Baird (1898-?, NP), who was born and brought 

up in Korea as the son of a long-time educational missionary, William Baird (NP), as “the 

gospel for the heathen and education for Christians” and “no institution before church.”  The former principle meant that the Mission should prioritize converting Koreans through 

direct preaching and then provide education in order to guide their incipient faith. The latter 

principle meant that church formation must precede the establishment of other mission 

institutions such as school and hospitals. The underlying assumption of this peculiar policy 

is that education in itself was not the purpose of the Mission and should be provided only 

for Christians. In short, a mission school should not be used as an expedient mechanism to draw in non-Christians and broaden their intellectual horizons by exposing them to western 

education. Rather, the mission school had to be a thoroughly religious institution where the 

children of Christian converts were gathered to study the Bible and receive regular religious 

instruction so that they could succeed the faith of their parents. 

  Presbyterian policy, however, was infeasible in Korea, especially during the first 

few years of the mission, when there were no Christians educated in mission schools yet. To implement Presbyterian policy, missionaries had to preach and win converts first before 

providing them education, but they could not do so in Korea because freedom of religion 

was not tolerated even after the treaty. Compelled by the realities of this situation, Presbyterian missionaries had to concede principle and start a school before any church was 

officially established.  

  Nonetheless, due to the deeply embedded anti-Christian and anti-foreign prejudice 

among the Koreans, the missionaries were not able to recruit any children to their schools. In 1886, Horace G. Underwood first thought of enticing poor Koreans by making school 

tuition free, but soon gave up the idea on the grounds that “there is a danger of giving the 

Koreans the idea that we are backed by a rich board at home, and that it would be a pretty good idea to become Christian.”   Underwood instead decided to gather street children 

in Seoul, who were “homeless and destitute… of illegitimate birth,” so that “they would be 

taken and clothed and fed and trained up in a right way to love the Savior.”  In other 

words, orphans were selected to be the first pupils of the Presbyterian school not because 

they were recognized as having positive potential, but simply because they were the only 

ones whom missionaries could place under their full-time control without encountering 

parental opposition.  

  The orphan-school, which started with 36 pupils in 1886, soon proved to be a 

dismal failure. The orphans had neither any previous education nor the will to study. As 

they had simply been brought to the school by the missionaries, it was natural that they had 

no clear purpose of being in school except for promise of food and clothing. To make 

matters worse, the xenophobic feelings of the orphans did not disappear so easily. In fact, at 

the time of the Baby Riot in 1887, the orphans took the prevalent rumor of baby-eating at 

face value. Underwood sadly reported to the Board. 

 

The poor little fellows, frightened… wanted to run away and many of them did. One poor little fellow, only eight years old, ran away one night and all alone managed to find his way home a distance of some 90 or 100 miles and reached there foot sore and almost famished with hunger.  

 

By this time, the orphans had spent almost two years at the school. If two years of teaching 

failed to convince them that foreigners were not cannibalists, we can reasonably estimate 

how poorly the missionary teachers taught, how little the pupils actually learned, and, more 

than anything, how superficially the missionaries cultivated the hearts and minds of Korean 

children. In any case, there is no question that the Presbyterian school did not start as a 

modern educational institution and it was quite dubious if it deserved to be called school at 

all.  

  In 1891, the newly arrived missionary, Samuel A. Moffett, succeeded the school 

management from Underwood. To make it a proper Christian mission school, Moffett first 

renamed it Jesus Doctrine School (yesugyo haktang) and required students to pay for a part 

of their school expenses.  His reform measures, however, had adverse consequences. First, the new school name marked it as so distinctively sectarian that it even further 

alienated Koreans, especially those among the educated classes, who were strongly anti-Christian.  In the first place, Christianity was not officially legalized but only tacitly 

tolerated because of its presence under the foreign extraterritoriality. Hence, few Koreans 

dared to send their children to such a “strange” and illegal school. Second, the required 

tuition placed a heavy burden on enrolled students, the majority of whom were orphans or 

the children of impoverished families. It seems that Moffett soon realized that his school 

would not survive under the new policy and resumed granting material and financial 

support to the students in order to keep them enrolled. According to school records in 1891, 

the Jesus Doctrine School had only 24 students, of which 19 were still fed and clothed,  

as had been the practice at the orphan-school. Even after two years, the students remained “a selected band of boys of the lower class,” though it is doubtful if they were “selected” in 

any significant sense.   

  Another reason that missionaries failed to attract students of a higher caliber is that 

they did not teach English. By that time, the Chosŏn dynasty had installed its first 

Government English School (kwallip yŏngŏ hakkyo) in 1886 and began to provide 

English-language training for a group of selected officials. However, the Presbyterian Mission stopped providing English-language teaching for a brief trial period and concluded 

that teaching English to Korean Christians was an “error” to be “rectified.”  The reason 

given for this decision was that “when they [Korean students] learned a little English they 

would go off to the Ports or the Mines and there become interpreter[s] and those were bad 

places for young folks.”  In other words, the missionaries saw English education as a 

distraction from their purposes of keeping the students under their Christian influence and 

making them into devout churchgoers. They wanted to bar students from seeking secular 

jobs and taking advantage of the opportunities that fluency in English could offer. They saw 

the students as investment assets and expected them to be faithful, if undereducated, Christian assistants to the missionaries. Thus, missionaries took their prerogative to control 

the career paths of Korean students for granted and did away with the teaching of English 

entirely in 1890 so that they would lose the chance to get a secular job. To make this policy 

a rule, the missionaries passed an official resolution in 1895 that “the Mission does not 

believe in Schools for the teaching of English---at least for themselves.”   

But job opportunity was not all that Korean students of the Presbyterian mission 

school lost. Without knowledge of English, the students lost direct access to western 

scholarship. In Korea in the 1890s, the modernization movement was just beginning after 

the Sino-Japanese War in 1894 and few western books had been translated into Korean, 

much less school textbooks. English was thus a necessary means for any Korean to acquire 

new knowledge of the modern world. If the Presbyterian Missions wanted to uplift the 

intellectual standards of Korean Christians, English language education should have been 

considered indispensable. However, the Mission had the opposite objective in mind and 

wanted to keep the convert’s knowledge at the same level as that of the average Korean. William D. Reynolds (1867-1951, SP), known as the most scholarly Presbyterian 

missionary for his strong background in Greek and Latin and Classics and his pivotal role 

in Korean Bible translation, was one of the strong advocates of this Presbyterian policy. In 1896, he publicized his view on the proper education for future Korean Christian leaders, 

in which he articulated the following points. 

 

Don’t send him [a prospective Korean Christian leader] to America to be educated, at any rate in the early stages of Mission Work. Don’t train him in any way that tends to lift him far above the level of the people among whom he is to live and labor. Missionaries often deplore the chasm in modes of thinking and living between them and the natives. Don’t cleave chasm where as yet none exist.  

 

Instead, Reynolds insisted that the missionaries should instruct Koreans so as to “seek to 

lift [them] to high plane of spiritual experience”, and “ground [them] thoroughly… in the 

cardinal facts and truths of Christianity”, and “endure hardness as…good soldier[s] of Jesus Christ.” Moreover, educational standards should be raised “as Korean Christians advance in 

culture and modern civilization” and even when the missionaries made “ his education 

sufficiently in advance of [the] average education of his people to secure respect and 

prestige” education was still to be restricted so as not to go “enough ahead to excite envy or 

a feeling of separation.  In sum, the Presbyterian Mission had no intention of making the 

mission school into a threshold to the new modern world for Korean Christians. Rather, 

they wanted to contain Korean Christians in the school to indoctrinate them with Christian 

theology, while keeping them insensitive to the changing intellectual trends of the time.      Combined with this education policy, the lack of qualified teaching staff also 

curbed the steady intellectual development of the school. In the first place, most missionaries came to Korea without any teaching experience. Moreover, they were far more 

interested in winning converts than in teaching children and believed that preaching was 

their sole duty as missionaries. Especially the ordained ministers, whose profession was to 

preach from the pulpit, held the belief that “ordained men [are] not to be asked to teach 

boys” in school.  Thus, school work was quite unpopular among the Presbyterian 

missionaries. Richard Baird (NP) attests to this point.  

 

The school became a sort of football that was kicked around at every annual meeting [of the Mission]. Its existence was contrary to the Mission’s philosophy [of prioritizing evangelism to education]. Its oversight was a burden no one wanted. Messrs. Gale, Moffett, and F.S. Miller, with varying degrees of unwillingness, each carried the load till it could be shoved off onto some missionary newer than themselves.   

 

Yet, the new missionaries were, of course, even worse than their predecessors as they had 

no knowledge of Korean language and culture. No doubt this vicious cycle completely 

demoralized the teachers as well as the students and worsened the school’s condition.  As of 1897, the Presbyterian mission had two boarding schools in Seoul, a Boys’ 

school with 35 pupils, and a Girls’ school with 38 pupils, and ten day schools with 166 pupils.  Among these schools, the two boarding schools were under direct missionary 

management and provided a little better education than day schools, where no missionary 

teachers were regularly attached. Nonetheless, none of these schools in Korea, including 

the boarding schools, were above the elementary level and its educational impact on Korean society at large was trivial, having only less than 250 pupils in all of Korea. The 

fruitless educational endeavor soon made the missionaries weary of carrying it on and 

many of them began thinking of withdrawing from the school’s management entirely. The Annual Meeting of the mission in 1897 officially voted for closing the Boys’ school on the 

grounds that “only a few boys…capable of receiving advanced instruction [were enrolled in 

the school]” and “there is little demand from the native Christians as yet for higher 

education.”  Subsequently, the missionaries decided to hand over the school work to “one of the Seoul Churches as a day school, to be supported by it.”  Over a decade of 

trial, the Presbyterian Mission concluded that school work was not worthy of investment 

and stopped educating the Korean Christian youth altogether. 

 

Evangelism before Education 

  The Presbyterian Mission stressed that the school closure was inevitable because 

there was little “demand among the Korean Christians for a higher grade of education.”  The Mission was also responsible, however, for the situation because it made no effort to 

convince Korean Christians of the need for a higher grade of education. It was the 

missionaries themselves who discouraged Koreans from engaging in intellectual pursuits 

beyond what they considered appropriate and suppressed the development of intellectual 

excellence among the general populace. In short, the Presbyterian missionaries’ decision to 

close the mission school perpetuated a vicious circle: they closed the school while they 

suppressed the Korean demand for higher education and then used this lack of demand to 

justify their decision. In the end, educational work was no more than a spare job for the 

early Presbyterian missionaries during a period when their real profession of public 

preaching was prohibited.  

Thus, it was natural that missionaries shifted their focus of investment from 

education to evangelism once the governmental ban on Christian propagation was loosened. 

“At present the field seems white,” the Presbyterian missionaries judged the situation in the immediate aftermath of the Sino-Japanese War in 1894. Based on this perception, they drew 

up an important resolution that “all available men, with the language and experience, 

should go out among the people.”  With this decision and the school closure that 

followed, the reluctant missionary teachers were happily decommissioned from school 

work in Seoul and transferred to the evangelical frontline in the countryside. For instance, William Baird was transferred to Pyŏngan Province, F.S. Miller (1866-1937, NP) to Hwanghae, and S. L. Swallen to Hamgyŏng.  This restructuring of personnel prepared 

the Mission to implement its ideal policy, where direct evangelism would always be held 

primary in the mission field and conversions would come before education. Such 

restructuring did not entirely exclude the possibility of starting “a new and real high school” 

in the future, on the condition that this would be undertaken only “when the Mission is 

ready for it.”  As a matter of fact, it took five years before the Mission resumed school 

work in Seoul in 1901 under James Gale, as subject that will be discussed in greater detail 

later.  

 

Management of Day Schools 

With the school closure in 1897, the Presbyterian Mission had no school above the 

primary level, and elementary education for Korean Christian children was taken charge of 

by local churches under their church schools, which were referred to as “day schools.” While on the surface this might have appeared to offer Korean churches the opportunity to 

run their own schools independently and without missionary interference, in fact, the Mission drafted a set of new rules for church schools and kept them under missionary 

control. The Mission’s resolution in 1897 read:   

 

That in place where there is sufficient Christian constituency, private schools should be organized and supported by the native Church, and should be under the supervision of the missionary in charge of the district. That in exceptional cases assistance may be given by the Mission, but not to exceed more than one-half the expense of the school.   

 

The Mission established the Educational Committee as a supervising agency “which shall 

act as an advisory board, with whom the various superintendents of individual schools shall 

consult, and whose special duty it shall be to see that the general policy of the Mission with reference to school work is upheld; who shall… report to the annual meeting of the Mission 

immediately after the reports of the superintendents of various schools have been heard.”    What these rules suggested is that the missionaries should place the financial and 

administrative responsibilities of running the day schools on the local Korean churches but 

hold controlling power over school policy through the Educational Committee. Therefore, 

even though Korean teachers or superintendents could in theory “have the entire charge of 

such [a] school,” they would “of course [have to follow] the general policy laid down by 

the Mission.” Moreover, “unexpected visits” by the missionaries were recommended as 

they would “serve to keep the Korean teacher up to his work.”    

  The essential reason that the Mission desired such strict supervision was their 

distrust of the Korean teacher’s qualifications. Considering “that the religious and spiritual 

influence brought to bear on the pupils is the most important thing in the school,” the 

missionaries thought the Koreans were not deserving of the task as they were 

“comparatively ineffectual in moral influence and in power to affect the character of the 

pupils.”  The Mission’s conviction was that “sufficient missionary supervision cannot be made too strict… If a school cannot be made what it should be, it may not be best always at 

once to discontinue it, but the presumption is adverse to its continuance.”   

  It is easy to see the bias inherent in the Mission’s judgment of Korean ability. It 

should be remembered, however, that the Korean churches were composed of the poorest 

class that had received no modern education and that adequate teachers were hard to find 

among the Korean Christians. In fact, prior to the closing of the mission school, the 

missionaries had drawn up a plan to “qualify young men in our boys’ school and to send 

them out as teachers” to local elementary schools in country towns.264 The fact that the 

graduates from the mission school recently closed down for poor performance were 

designated as teachers to the local church schools reveals much about the general standard 

of education in the local Christian constituency. As William Baird (NP) admitted frankly,  

 

These schools were for the most part very elementary and scarcely worthy of the name. They consisted usually of a few little boys pursuing elementary studies with a Korean teacher of the old type, who, except in the subject of the Chinese character, knew very little more than the pupils.  

 

Little wonder, then, that the Mission had to adopt the following set of regulations on 

admissions in order to save the schools from a hopeless situation.  

 

Art. IX  Save in exceptional cases, children whose parents are beggars, or such as send their children to school solely to escape their maintenance, shall not be received as pupils. 

Art. X  Dull and stupid boys should not knowingly be received into a school, nor retained there as a matter of charity to them or their parents.  Art XII  No more shall be done in the way of board, clothing, etc., than is absolutely necessary to secure the end purposed by the school.  

 

These regulations indicate that the missionaries were still greatly troubled by the poor 

educational qualifications of children of Korean Christians even after a decade of 

educational enterprise. This was the reason why the mission stopped any further investment 

in schools and transferred educational responsibility to local churches, which were actually 

even less capable of conducting educational work for children.  

 

Resumed Mission School in Seoul 

The Presbyterian Mission resumed school work above the elementary level in 

Seoul in 1901 under James Gale’s supervision, who showed keen interest in studying Korean language and history and was well-known for his scholarly researches on Korea 

even outside the missionary society.  Certainly, he was a good scholar, but it seems he 

was not as good a teacher for school children.268 In any case, the school faced the same 

difficulty in recruiting good students as the previous Presbyterian school. According to Gale’s report in 1902, the school had only “six boys” due to various oppositions from 

within the Christian population. Some Koreans, Gale noted, still believed Confucianism to 

be superior [to Christianity], demanding “You ought to teach the Confucian classics", while 

others objected, declaring “We want the Bible; nothing more” and "I will not send my boy 

unless you teach the Bible and the Bible only.” These religious devotees did not understand 

the merits of modern education and held that “there is no sense in all this figuring and 

geography and history” and asked Gale “What's the use of studying about flower[s]." There 

were also those who frankly asked for something in return for their child’s attendance: "If they'll feed my boy, I'll let him go."  Gale tried to persuade such Christians to cooperate, 

stressing that "This is not our school: this is yours: lend a hand” but such pleas fell on deaf 

ears as “they had taken Christianity for what they could get out of it.”   

Despite such obvious failure, the Presbyterian Mission did not take any radical 

measures to fix its failing educational project. They continued to neglect the importance of 

general education and paid scant attention to it. Even after Korea became a Japanese 

protectorate and the Korean desire for education was rising as a means to national 

empowerment, the Presbyterian attitude toward education remained unchanged. In 1910, 

the mission had 542 church schools under its jurisdiction, and ran them "primarily for 

evangelization... secondarily, the establishment of an indigenous church” rather than for the 

general uplift of the Korean Christian intellect because “the educational responsibility finds 

its place in this second aspect of the mission work.”  Thus, the Presbyterians continued 

to reject the idea that “the Mission has any responsibility for the education of 

non-Christians” and “the Mission's educational responsibility is in the children of the Church alone.”  This meant that the educational responsibility for non-Christians, who 

constituted the vast majority of the Korean population at that time, largely fell in the hand 

of the Japanese government and the Mission expected the Japanese to do so. 

In sum, the conventional image of the mission school as a harbinger of modern 

scientific education in Korea does not always apply to the Presbyterian schools of the late 

nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They provided mainly religious education for a 

limited number of Korean Christians, while putting little emphasis on general subjects. As 

the Presbyterian Mission board summarized, the Presbyterian Mission in Korea was “not 

willing to adopt a program of secular education divorced from the life of the Church” and 

even if Koreans wanted to receive a general Western education of the West, it was not “willing to yield to the popular demand for new fads.”273 The Presbyterian schools were 

for Christians only and their major aim was “not to develop a great system of general 

education”  but to “send them back into their home churches as strong evangelical 

Christians.”  After all, the sole purpose of Presbyterian education was to make Christians, not nationalist leaders who would use his advanced knowledge as a major means of 

national self-strengthening and independence.  

 

Some Representative Presbyterian Graduates 

In Korean history, the period from 1894-1910 is known as the moment when 

popular interest in modern education first began to surge. The Presbyterian Mission, 

however, went against the trend of the time and withdrew itself from the educational 

enterprise. Little wonder, then, that the Presbyterian school did not produce Korean Christian leaders who could stand on par with non-Christian leaders in disseminating 

modern education in the national arena. Instead, it mainly raised a group of Korean Christians who would devote themselves to religious service within the Church and 

continued to live under missionary guidance.  

A typical example is the case of Song Sun-myŏng, who became the first ordained 

Korean church Elder. Song was an orphan who was taken to the orphan-school by Horace G. Underwood around 1887. Presumably, he received education at the elementary level, as 

this was the standard of the school, and hired as a colporteur and then as a helper. His 

faithful service was soon recognized by the missionary he served and Song was recommended for ordination. In 1904, he became the first Korean Elder. Thereafter, he 

served in the Saemunan Church for over fifty years until his death in 1954.  

Despite his historical significance as the first Korean Elder and his leading status 

among Korean Christians, however, Song is hardly remembered in Korean Christian 

historiography today. This is because he did not participate in any significant event or make 

any noteworthy contributions either within or without the Church.   A representative Korean church leader who was hand-picked by a missionary and raised in the Presbyterian 

school was not the type of person to leave a profound impact upon the subsequent 

development of the Korean nation. And this was an intended result of early Presbyterian 

education policy, which aimed at producing a religious devotee who would disengage 

himself from secular society and devote himself to church service under missionary 

tutelage. 

On the other hand, one of Song’s classmates, An Ch’ang-ho, pursued a totally 

different path, and is today remembered as an iconic figure in the Korean nationalist 

movement. However, An’s life and nationalist career cannot be taken as a result of his Christian background for the following reasons. First, An did not have a regular affiliation 

with the Korean Church.  He was a wandering youth from a farming family from Pyŏngan Province and enticed to join the Presbyterian school “for the rumor of free lodging 

and food” when he came down to Seoul.  Then, he became a Christian but he soon 

migrated to Los Angeles to work among the Korean immigrants, where he was deeply 

involved in the Korean nationalist movement, and lost contact with the Korean Church. He 

did not reconnect with the Korean Church after his return to Korea in 1906 because he held 

a pantheistic idea and did not want to commit himself to the Christian faith.  Second, 

since the Presbyterian school provided only primary level education, it is unlikely that An’s 

one year of study there transformed him into an intellectually strong national leader. It is 

more likely that his experience in the United States had more influence over his intellectual 

development. In any case, as we will discuss in greater detail in Chapter 7, the fact that he 

was involved in politics against the missionary expectation that Christian pupils in the 

school should work for the church after graduation was a good indication that An was not a 

typical alumnus of the Presbyterian school. He was not at all a representative Korean 

church leader and his political commitment was not the intended result of mission 

education, but of his resistance against it.  

 

Methodist Mission School: Paejae School 

  The Methodist Mission opened its first school in 1886, around the same time that 

the Presbyterian Mission started its orphan-school. Unlike the Presbyterians, who began the 

school without any educational objective other than to Christianize orphans, the Methodist 

Mission had a clear purpose of “placing within easy reach of Korean youth the essentials of American educational institutions and methods” and “to give to Korean students thoro[ugh] 

training in the curriculum of western science and literature, uniting with it the essential 

features of the native school system.”  

  As this statement of purpose reveals, the Methodist Mission did not plan to make 

its school an evangelizing agency to provide religious education for Christian converts, 

though some evangelical missionaries did teach Christianity in a clandestine manner when 

occasions allowed. Rather, the mission recognized the usefulness of general education 

based on modern science, as was common in America, and was also willing to coordinate its program to fit the government educational system. Hence, its admission policy was not 

limited to Christian converts but open to anyone eager to study. According to this policy, 

the Methodist Mission selected pupils only from among those who had previous education 

and showed a willingness to learn, an approach which stood in stark contrast to the Presbyterian method of randomly recruiting street children. The Methodist mission also 

differed from the Presbyterian in its policy toward teaching English. It considered English 

as a requisite in acquiring western knowledge and thus taught it to the Korean students. Given that there was no Korean textbook on western science and literature at that time, the Methodist decision to educate its students in the English language was quite reasonable.   

  It should also be mentioned that the Methodist emphasis on general education in Korea was not an original innovation. Rather, this policy was in accord with the general 

education policy of the Methodist Church in the United States in the late nineteenth century. A resolution adopted by the Methodist General Assembly in 1890 stated that “The first duty 

of the Church is to convert the world; the second duty is to educate the world” and 

“Education often needs to precede conversion.” This idea was exactly the opposite of the 

Presbyterian philosophy --- “gospel to heathen, education for Christians” and “No 

institution before Church.” To the Presbyterians, education was a privilege to be granted for 

the already saved. To the Methodists, it was the pathway to salvation. 

Since Methodist school policy was not focused on Christian indoctrination, but on 

the acquisition of western knowledge, the school was welcomed by the Korean government. In fact, in 1887, when Henry G. Appenzeller asked for governmental recognition of the 

school, the Korean king not only approved but also bestowed the school name, Pai Chai Haktang or “the Hall for the Training of Useful Men” (hereafter, spelled as “Paejae” 

according to the contemporary standard spelling), as a visible sign of royal recognition.  As the school name suggests it was authorized by the Korean government not for Christian 

education, but for general education that would raise pupils useful to the Korean 

government, not to the mission. In other words, the Methodist mission did not hesitate to 

compromise Christian education for royal recognition and adopted a positive approach to 

providing general education to the broader Korean public.  

   

Modern Educational Institution 

  Gaining royal recognition had a significant impact on the development of the Paejae Haktang. Recognition granted security for students who were eager to learn from 

western scholarship but often worried about the possibility of governmental punishment for 

being enrolled at a foreign school where some missionaries did on occasion clandestinely 

teach Christian doctrine. Paejae students were more encouraged when one of their 

classmates was hired to be an interpreter at the royal palace soon after the school obtained 

royal recognition in 1887.  Six other students also received similar appointments later 

that year.  Although these appointments were to minor positions in the government, they 

marked a great step forward that showed that even a foreign school could now function as a 

gateway to officialdom. In Chosŏn society, where appointment to government positions had 

been so highly valued, any educational institution that would open the door to officialdom 

could gain social prestige. Methodist missionaries were a little concerned that their pupils 

left school for governmental appointments without enough training in English, but that did 

not discourage them from encouraging their students to seek governmental employment, 

nor did they stop teaching English as the Presbyterians did. To the contrary, the Methodist missionaries were “glad to see the work appreciated by the Government”  and gained 

confidence in their school policy.  

  Encouraged by initial success, the Methodist Mission also invested in school 

facilities. As soon as it won royal recognition, the mission built an impressive western-style 

school building, the first of its kind in Korea, on one of the most commanding sites in Seoul. According to the official description, “the hall is a substantial brick building 76 x 52 feet, 

one story high, built in renaissance style of architecture” and “contains a chapel, four 

lecture-rooms, a library, the principal’s office, and a basement under half the building, to be 

devoted to the industrial department.”  This was quite a contrast to the poorly equipped Presbyterian orphan school. Certainly, such an impressively western appearance would 

have appealed to the Korean who took a growing interest in western civilization, if not Christianity.  

  The steady advancement of Paejae Haktang was duly recognized by the 

government. This is indicated by the fact that within a decade of the school’s opening 

“thirty three men [had] gone forth to take positions in one and another department of government.”  Moreover, in 1895, the Korean government entered contract with the Mission to dispatch 200 students to the school to train future officials in western- style 

education,  and continued to send students there every year. Considering that this 

decision was made by the new Korean cabinet, backed up by the Japanese in the wake of 

the Sino-Japanese War, it seems that the Japanese victory had some influence on this 

contract. In any case, the school’s social prestige was greatly elevated and its financial 

position stabilized as tuition was paid in full by the government. This practice of receiving 

governmental trainees was continued until 1902.  

  By 1896, the Paejae Haktang had two departments, Chinese and English, and 60 

and 106 students in each and they received no financial assistance from the Mission.  Instead, those in financial need were given a chance to earn money on campus, mainly in 

the printing workshop.  The Methodist mission introduced the first modern press 

machine in Paejae and it printed religious tracts, missionary newspapers and reports. The 

workshop established in 1890 evolved into the Trilingual Press, where Korean, Chinese and English types were prepared and dominated the early stages of the printing industry in Korea.  The New Testament was also incorporated into the curriculum and worship 

service in school chapel was no longer concealed and made mandatory.  

       During this time, the missionaries invited Sŏ Chae-p’il (1864-1951) and Yun Ch’i-ho (1864-1945), two of the few Korean intellectuals at that time who had studied in 

the United States, as lecturers. Sŏ and Yun had lived a life of exile in the United States after 

the failed coup in 1882 where they obtained degrees in medicine and in theology 

respectively (see Chapter 2). Upon returning to Korea in 1895, they devoted themselves to 

educational work and established the Independence Club, through which he aimed at 

disseminating modern education and reforming the dynastic government. With their 

knowledge of modern scholarship, they taught various subjects, including geography and 

world affairs.  As both Sŏ and Yun belonged to the aristocratic yangban, their presence 

attracted many students of their class. In fact, it is around this time Syngman Rhee [Yi 

Sŭng-man] (1875-1965) and Cynn Hung-wu (Sin Hŭng-u] (1883-1959), two eager yangban children, both of whom later became national leaders of post-liberation Korea, studied in 

this school and learned English as well as other forms of western scholarship, which later 

led them to pursue higher education in the United States.    

  Reviewing the development of the Methodist mission school, we may note that, 

along with other government schools, it consistently maintained the same purpose of 

raising the intellectual standards of the Korean people and thus provided them with general 

education. The Methodist mission did not hide its Christian purpose and actually proposed 

that its students adopt it. At the same time, however, it neither imposed Christianity nor 

rejected admission for lack of faith. This was consistent with its philosophy that education 

sometimes needed to precede conversion and that general education of good quality would 

serve Koreans even if they did not adopt the Christian faith. If some did adopt faith along 

with knowledge, that would be ideal from the missionary point of view. Hence, a Methodist 

missionary fervently enthused in 1895 that, “The school has grand opportunities… of 

preparing Christian secular teachers for Korea. The country will soon demand them. It has a 

grander work in training Christian workers for our lay and full ministry.”  Though it may 

sound somewhat contradictory, the title of “Christian secular teacher” was a keyword for understanding Methodist education policy. Methodist missioanries wanted to educate Koreans who would lead others in secular knowledge, but also maintain their commitment 

to the Christian cause.  

    

Methodist Church Schools 

  The Methodist mission was successful in establishing a prestigious school in Seoul, 

but it failed to achieve the same success elsewhere. Like the Presbyterian mission, the Methodist mission concentrated its forces in Seoul and few resided outside the capital, 

where foreign residence was legally prohibited. Even if given the possibility of neglecting 

the law and attempting to reside in the countryside, missionaries still preferred to stay in the 

capital, which they considered a vital home base. Thus, when the Methodist mission began 

to expand its education work to the countryside, it let the local church run the school as day 

schools under its management. Though the doors of these schools were widely open to 

non-Christians, unlike the Presbyterian Day schools, they “were seriously handicapped 

because of lack of teachers, textbooks and facilities”  and also of “prejudice against the Christian religion taught there.”  Thus, attendance at these schools was constantly low 

and “unsatisfactory.”  

  In comparison, the Methodists were certainly more successful than the Presbyterians 

but their success was limited to the case of Paejae Haktang. It is true that the Methodist Mission later built more schools of a similar standard in other regions as the mission 

territory expanded, but the basic Methodist policy was to “concentrate resources on a few 

schools of outstanding quality”  in urban centers such as Inchŏn and Pyŏngyang and did 

not penetrate into the rural areas beyond the city gate. In fact, the general state of Methodist 

day schools was so miserably low that one Methodist missionary had to lament that many 

schools were allowed to exist simply because they were “better than none.”    Such dysfunctional schools were not limited to the Methodist mission, but also 

included Presbyterian ones. Yet, as the missionary stated, they were certainly better than 

none because there was no universal education system yet in Korea and there were many 

rural areas where there were no schools at all. The church school thus represented the only 

means of getting an education for the general Korean populace. Expectedly, as the general Korean interest in education began to rise under the Japanese protectorate, many Koreans 

turned to the church schools, not necessarily for religion but for education. The atmosphere 

of the time was well captured in the following missionary article. 

 

The whole nation is awake hungry for kaiwha [enlightenment], determined to getting an education, that open sesame as they think, to greatness, power, wealth, independence, all sorts of material blessings. They are considering favorably the Yesu Kyowhay [Protestant Church] too, as a possible means for the attainment of these same desired material blessings thro[ugh] the favor of placated Heavenly Powers. An education they will have, Christian or otherwise, whatever can be got, if not one another, religion they are ready to consider.  

 

This education fever was a great incentive for conversion as Christians were given priority 

for the limited enrollment in church schools. Especially in the case of Presbyterian schools, 

enrollment was limited to the children of Christian families on principle and thus 

conversion appeared a ticket to admission, which often perplexed missionaries like W. L. 

Swallen (NP). 

 

The school problem is great, at almost every point…The churches will get mixed up with the heathen on the school question, because the heathen want what the Christians have without giving up the devil. The heathen are offering the Christians their money and their old defunct Confucian school properties, and promise obedience to all the rules of the Christian school, even to the sending of their children to the service on 

Sabbath, if only the church will provide the Christian teacher.  

 

Hence, church schools continued to grow in number and its total enrollment being a greater 

gap between demand and supply for school due to the absence of universal education 

system in Korea.  

    Nonetheless, the poorly equipped church schools could not respond to the sudden 

increase in enrollment. As a Methodist missionary reported, “the growth of educational 

work and the amount of money that the Koreans are giving for schools is very gratifying 

and yet perplexing, because of the scarcity of good teachers and the inadequacy of 

text-books.”   

    It is reasonable, then, to conclude that, for at least the first two decades of the Mission, the majority of Koreans Christians, regardless of denominational affiliation, 

received at best only a minimum standard of education. Most schools were crippled by a 

lack of facilities, teachers and textbooks. Consequently, Korean Christians were left 

undereducated about modern science and technology or western civilization as the average 

Korean of that time. With the exception of the Methodist Paejae School, then, mission education made a limited contribution to the molding of intellectually advanced national 

leaders.  

   

   

 Chapter 5 Church and Korean Politics 

 

  From the beginning of the mission, the Protestant missionaries saw the world in 

terms of a binary system of sacred and secular and rejected political and social issues as 

belonging to the latter. This view was representative of conservative Protestantism in America and explains why missionaries in Korea were “comparatively indifferent to the 

educational and social application of the gospel in Korea.”  Given that many Korean 

missionaries came from such a conservative Christian background in America,306 it was 

natural that they taught Korean Christians to keep their distance from politics and devote 

themselves to religious salvation alone. While it is true that missionaries occasionally 

intervened in Korean political matters through the US legation when they deemed it 

necessary to protect Korean Christians from persecution, this was primarily a defense 

measure compelled by the on-the-ground circumstances (Chapter 2). As the Korean government gradually acquiesced in the missionaries’ freedom of religion, especially after 

the Sino-Japanese War in 1894, the missionaries tried to maintain their neutrality or 

aloofness from politics. Under missionary supervision, disengagement from politics soon 

became a common practice in the Korean churches.  

 

Attitude toward the Independence Club 

  The separation of the church from politics became a keen issue for the Mission for 

the first time in the late 1890s, when the Independence Club began to demand political 

reforms to the government. This Club was founded in 1896 by two leading Korean 

intellectuals, Sŏ Chae-p’il and Yun Ch’i-ho, to promote the Korean independence cause 

among the general populace. They took the advantage of China’s defeat in the 

Sino-Japanese War and sought to disseminate the nationalist ideal of standing independent 

without relying on foreign power. As a symbolic action, the Club members disestablished 

the traditional “Welcome Gate” in Seoul, the site where Chinese imperial delegates were 

hosted, and replaced it with a new western-style stone arch, the “Independence Gate.” They 

envisioned constitutional monarchy as the future form of the Korean government and tried to move the Korean Court toward that direction.  To win the royal confidence, the Club 

leader, Sŏ Chae-p’il organized a public celebration for the King’s Birthday and some 

missionaries such as Horace G. Underwood (NP) mobilized Christians in Seoul to attend 

the ceremony and pray for him.  For this kind of activities, some scholars interpret the Club’s movement and the Christian involvement as a proof of the Christian “loyalty to the 

king and the nation” (ch’unggun aeguk).  

    Nonetheless, the Club’s relation to the King and the Korean Court was not without 

tension. In the beginning, the Club was supportive of the Korean Court policy of moving 

away from Chinese tutelage after the Sino-Japanese war, but it became critical of the Court, 

when it showed a growing reliance on the Russian Empire in 1896 in order to hold the 

victorious Japanese in check. To sustain Korean independence, the Club proposed that the Korean government implement various reform measures such as prohibiting the sale of 

national resources for foreign concessions and punishing corrupt officials who placed their 

personal gain over the national interest.  

Yet, King Kojong was by no means determined to adopt the progressive agenda 

proposed by the Club, though he was leaning more toward western ideas and technology 

after the Sino-Japanese War. Hence, when the conservative anti-Club officials conspired to 

disseminate a false rumor that the Club was plotting a revolution to make Korea into a Republic, the indecisive king was panic-stricken and ordered the arrest of the Club leaders, 

while announcing royal edict that the Club be disestablished at once.  As a result, Sŏ Chae-p’il and Yun Ch’i-ho were hunted by the government and had to take refuge using 

their foreign contacts. It was the second time for them to be wanted by their own 

government since the failed coup in 1882. Because Sŏ had acquired United States 

citizenship, he could ask the U.S. Consul-General for diplomatic protection and flee to the United States. Yun went into hiding at the house of his missionary friend Henry G. Appenzeller.  While Sŏ and Yun were exceptional Christian intellectual elites and did not 

represent the majority of Korean Christians, it is nevertheless interesting to note that their 

political behavior was in complete accord with the Korean Christian tradition of seeking 

refuge under foreign protection in time of need. 

  With the suppression of the Independence Club, Yun lost confidence in the Korean 

monarch as a potential reformer. In his diary, Yun cursed King Kojong as “the deteriorated 

edition of King Charles I” and when he heard the news of the forced dissolution of the Club, 

he burst into anger: “This is a King! A smooth-lying treacherous coward could not have 

done anything meaner than this… Great Emperor of Korea!!!”  But what disheartened 

Yun more than the king was the “abominable indifference of the general public” to the 

Club’s struggle.   

 

They [Korean people] look on the struggle as a personal quarrel of some Independents with the government. These children of oppression and slaves of centuries fail to see that the six Articles [of the Club’s reform proposal] touch the national and personal interest of every one of them! To have based any hope on a people of this sort—we have been greater fools. As the king, so is the people! They deserve to be nothing but slaves!  

 

This statement clearly shows the sense of isolation that Christian intellectuals like Yun felt. Behind them was no mass support from Korean Christians at all. The nationalist aspiration 

that drove the Club had no appeal to the “children of oppression and slaves” to which the 

majority of the Christian population belonged. They were struggling to make a living and had neither extra time nor resources to make engage positively in political affairs and 

received little education. Moreover, the missionaries instructed Korean Christians to stay 

aloof from politics, while encouraging them to divert their interests and resources to the 

religious cause of the Church. 

  In fact, the missionaries were generally inimical to the Club’s political activism. The Presbyterian missionaries in particular dismissed the Independence Club’s cause as 

having nothing to do with the religious salvation of Korean souls. To the contrary, they 

frowned upon the Korean Christians’ association with the Club and tried to keep them away 

from the Club. For instance, Samuel F. Moore (NP), ministering at Yon Mot Kol Church in 

Seoul, was annoyed when he found that some of his congregation were “engrossed with the ‘Independence Club’” and renounced them as having “little thought or purpose in the work 

of the Church.”  In other words, the missionaries were largely responsible for producing 

such politically passive Korean Christians, whom Christian intellectuals like Yun Ch’i-ho 

disdained as “slaves.”  

  Nonetheless, the government crackdown of the Independence Movement brought 

about an unexpected positive impact on the subsequent Korean Christian development. 

Among some reform-minded and elite yangban members of the Club who were deprived of 

their government positions and jailed in Seoul prison were born a group of Christian 

converts. Their conversion was led mainly by Dalziel A. Bunker (1853-1932, NM) , James S. Gale (NP) and Horace G. Underwood (NP), who made a regular visit to these noted elite 

yangban officials in prison for consolation and provided religious tracts and Bible in 

classical Chinese. Also, Syngman Rhee (1875-1965), a Paejae graduate and the young 

activist in the Independence Club, who was imprisoned himself, was instrumental in 

proselytizing his senior prisonmates.  Gradually, many of them believed the new 

teaching and converted, which include prominent senior officials. They included the 

following figures: Yu Sŏng-jun (1860-1934), a high-ranking official and a younger brother 

of Yu Kil-chun, a well-known scholar who had studied in the United States and authored Sŏyu kyŏngmun, the first book on the West published in Korea in 1895; Yi Sang-jae 

(1850-1927), former secretary cabinet and later became an executive leader of Seoul 

Y.M.C.A.; Yi Wŏn-gŭng (1849-?), one of the most noted Confucian scholar at that time; 

Kim Chŏng-sik (1862-1937), former chief of police of Seoul.  

In career, status and age, this group of converts had a totally different caliber from 

the majority of the Korean Christians at that time. By the time of conversion, they had been 

ruling the country as high officials and concerned about the future of the Korean state and 

nation as their own concerns. Their participation in the governmental and social reform 

through Independence Club shows they were the leaders of incipient Korean nationalism. There is little document to show their internal motive for conversion, but, considering their 

socio-political background, it was likely that they received it not only as a means for 

personal salvation but also national. In any case, this yangbans’s conversion in prison, 

though a few in number, was a historic moment in Korean Christian history, where ruling 

elites within Korea turned to Christian faith for the first time.  How their peculiar 

presence in the low-class dominated Korean Church, after their release from prison, 

affected the subsequent development of the Church will be discussed in the next chapters.  

 

The Separation of Church from Politics 

  The Presbyterian principle of absolute separation of church and politics soon 

became a formal policy of the mission. In the Mission Council in 1901, the Presbyterian 

missionaries adopted the following resolution and delivered the Korean translation to the 

local Korean churches under its jurisdiction. 

 

1. We resolved that our ministers shall never interfere with affairs of state 

(nara il), government (chŏngbu il) and officials (kwanwŏn il) of Korea 

(Taehan) 

2. There are treaties between the Korea and our [missionaries’ home] countries and we have to handle political affairs according to the treaties… What we teach our [Korean] congregations is that Church is not the organization that should take responsibility of state affairs or interfere with it. 

3. Korean people remain as Korean people even after becoming a member of the Church. What we teach you is to serve the emperor with loyalty, to obey officials, and to observe the government laws according to the word of Gods. 

4. Our Church neither forces nor prohibits its members to take part in state affairs or join any political party. [But] we would not take any responsibility nor make defense for the mistakes and crimes that might be committed by the church members while involved in state affairs. 

5. Our Church is the Church where Holy Spirit resides, not the Church to take care of state affairs. Thus, the church buildings, minister’s guestrooms and church schools should be used for church activities (kyohoe il) only, and never for the discussion about state and political affairs… Also, whoever becomes a church member, he shall not bring in his minister’s guestroom such topics as cannot be discussed publicly in other places.   

 

This policy is quite distinctive in that it demanded more than a separation of church and 

state as was commonly practiced in the United States. It mandated that Korean Christians 

refrain entirely from engaging in politics regardless of purpose. The fact that even 

discussion of political affairs was banned in church buildings shows how strongly the 

missionaries wanted to insulate Korean Christians from political entanglement. At that time, 

the Korean Church was relatively free from Korean government censorship through the 

extraterritorial rights enjoyed by the missionaries. Within the Church, however, the 

missionary practiced another kind of censorship and political discussions were strictly 

suppressed. The missionaries adopted Koreans who needed political refuge in the church, 

but once Koreans entered church doors, they were expected to forget about politics and 

remain silent about it. Korean Christians might have learned some elementary ideas about 

democracy in sermons or classes at the mission schools, but were expected not to practice it 

in public. Therefore, there was no place in the church for politically-minded Korean 

Christians who wanted to reform the corrupt Korean government and share political ideas with their fellow Christians. In other words, for the Korean Christians, simultaneously 

being a church leader and also a political leader was impossible as long as missionary 

censorship prevailed in the Church. 

 

The Japanese Protectorate 

  The missionaries continued to discourage Korean Christian involvement in politics 

even when Korean sovereignty was endangered by the Japanese empire. When Japan 

imposed the Protectorate Treaty on the Korean government in 1905 and made it into a 

semi-colonized state, the missionaries did their best to keep Korean Christians calm and 

refrain from raising voices of opposition against the new Japanese regime.  

  The endorsement of Japanese rule in Korea was in accordance with the United 

States diplomatic policy under Theodore Roosevelt, who wanted Japan to check the Russian expansion.  Also, the missionaries wanted a more functional local government 

so that their mission work would not be disturbed. This view was represented by Arthur 

Brown, the Secretary of the Presbyterian Foreign Mission Board, who made an inspection trip to Korea in 1902 and predicted that internal corruption in Korea would soon lead it to 

be taken over by foreign powers.  

  

It is totally destitute of the moral fiber needed in Korea at this time, and the prevailing corruption is as among the officials in the Imperial Palace as anywhere in the Empire. The people are taxed beyond all reason… Offices are sold to the highest bidder, or given to dissipated favorites…So rotten is the entire system that one marvels that the nation has not fallen to pieces before this. Only the stolid apathy of the Asiatic and the rival claims of foreign Powers have held it together at all.  

 

Based on this cool and pessimistic observation, Brown concluded, “It is evident that Korea 

is too weak to maintain her independence much longer. She is sure to fall at no distant 

day.”  For the American Protestant missionaries, then, the Japanese takeover of Korea 

was an expected scenario. 

Some missionaries optimistically believed that the loss of national independence 

would turn Korean minds more toward religion than politics and thus make for more 

devoted evangelists. Interpreting this political event in religious terms, one Methodist 

missionary thought that “God is forming out of Korea an instrument for the evangelizing of 

the yellow races” and prophesized that, “The day will come when we shall see the Korean evangelists working with as much power and force among China's millions as among his 

own people.”  Hence, from the missionary point of view, Korea’s loss of independence 

was a positive development that would lead it to become “the Palestine of the Far East” 

where Christian converts were commissioned to disseminate the gospel to neighboring 

great nations just as the Jewish Christian converts evangelized the Romans. 

Such a missionary view was also endorsed by a Korean Christian, Syngman Rhee, 

a Paejae graduate, who had been an active member of the Independence Club and known as 

a young nationalist leader. In 1908, he had a chance to attend the American Methodist Convention at Pittsburg and delivered the address to the missionary audience in which he 

mentioned the present state of Korea. 

 

So you see, the Koreans to-day have not country to live or die for, and no longer homes in which to enjoy peaceful life… Parden[sic] me, friends, I mention it not with unpleasant feeling at all. On the contrary, I am glad of it. I thank God for that, because this is Korea’s opportunity… In the lowest pitch of their national humility, the Koreans at once realize the need of some great power to life them up. They know well enough that no earthly power could do that… If Korea can be saved at all, it is by Jesus Christ…You [missionaries] have given them the very thing they needed… [God] gave us this great opportunity so that the Koreans might give up their national pride, ancestral beliefs, and hereditary superstitions… Today more than one hundred thousand native Christians are praying earnestly and constantly that their beautiful little country may become a perfect Christian nation within the next twenty years. I am one of these native converts who firmly believe that God will answer our prayers.  

   

Rhee might have prepared this address with a diplomatic intention to attract American 

attention to Korea as a deterrence against the increasing Japanese power in Korea. Considering that Rhee actually became a Korean nationalist leader in exile in the States and 

continued to lobby with Washington for support for Korea’s independence, it is likely that 

he had such diplomatic consideration in mind when he made the address. Nonetheless, it 

still shows us that a nationalist like Rhee knew well enough what kind of message the American missionary audience wanted to hear most from a native Korean Christian and had 

to present the Koreans as a naïve nation who would not pursue earthly political aims, 

abandon national pride, and wait for God’s salvation on the verge of national demise. Simply put, Rhee could not say in front of the missionary audience, even if he wanted, that 

he pray God for Korean national independence and His protection in his struggle against 

the Japanese because the missionaries did not want to hear. He had to conform to the missionary view in any way as long as he tried to keep American attention through the Mission, the gateway to the American power.  

There were, of course, some missionaries who showed more personal sympathy 

for the passing of Korea than others, but their sympathy did not drive to them to oppose 

mission policy or confront the Japanese regime. James Scranton, for instance, was worried 

that Bishop Harris, who presided over both Japanese and Korean Methodist Church, had a 

strong pro-Japanese gesture might dishearten the Koreans, but even he had no intention of 

rejecting the Japanese. He expected Japan’s rule, if inevitable, would benefit Korea and 

wrote to the Board. “As foreigners living in Korea… we are nearly all pro-Japanese to the 

extent of wishing well for Japan in Korea, if she will do well by Korea,” even though “We 

are Korean sympathizers first, and look at Korea from the local standpoint.”    Missionary support for the Japanese regime was expressed not only in word but 

also in deed. Especially when church members were involved in any form of anti-Japanese 

movement, the Missions punished them as violating the principle of separation of church 

and politics. For instance, the Methodist mission disbanded the Epworth League, a youth 

group in the Chŏngdong Church, the oldest and the largest Methodist Church in Seoul at that time, where Chŏn Tŏkki, a missionary servant-turned-pastor, schemed to mobilize 

some members of the church for the anti-Japanese movement. Though the detailed 

activities of the League were not disclosed in the official record of the Mission, it accused 

the League’s members for “leading a double life before the church and within itself” and “falling under the control of outsiders…who were carrying away the League from the 

purposes of the church to that of the world.”   

  While missionaries prohibited Korean Christians from expressing their 

dissatisfaction with Japanese rule, they allowed themselves to express sympathy and 

affinity with the Japanese empire. A good example is the Methodist relationship with the Itō Hirobumi, the first Resident-General in Korea. When Itō arrived in Seoul, a representative 

of the Methodist Mission escorted him to the palace where he was to receive the royal 

audience.  The scene of the missionaries, following Itō’s procession in horse cart through 

the main street of Seoul was a clear message to Koreans that Christians should remain loyal 

to state authority, whether the state was handled by the Korean King or the Japanese Resident-General. 

 

The Anti-Ŭibyŏng Attitude of the Church 

  With such high expectations placed on the religious role of Korean Christians, it 

was natural that the missionaries were rather unsympathetic to the ŭibyŏng, the righteous 

army who took arms against the Japanese at the time of the Protectorate Treaty in 1905. 

This armed rebellion quickly spread, especially after the disbanding of the Korean Army in 1907, when many of the dismissed Korean military officials and soldiers joined other 

anti-Japanese forces organized by Confucian scholars and other local leaders.  To counter 

this popular resistance, the Japanese deployed a large number of fully armed police and 

conducted aggressive campaigns to suppress it. Thus, there were continuous skirmishes 

between the Japanese and Korean guerrilla forces between 1905 and 1910, resulting in 

significant socio-economic turmoil in rural area. 

  The conventional historiography generally interprets ŭibyŏng as a manifestation of 

anti-Japanese Korean nationalism. However, since many ŭibyŏng leaders were 

Confucianists and maintained conservative values, they were not simply anti-Japanese but 

anti-foreign. In fact, one of the common purposes of the ŭibyŏng uprisings was to restore 

the traditional socio-political order under the current dynasty by expelling all foreigners, western and Japanese alike. Therefore, Korean Christians and missionaries in general had a 

quite low view of the “Righteous Army” as reactionary and anachronistic. In addition, their 

armed resistance caused many local disturbances and worsened the living conditions of 

local Christians who had been struggling in daily poverty. Often, local Christians were 

caught in the fighting between the ŭibyŏng and the Japanese and suffered serious damage to 

their home and religious life. As a result, the missionaries had to conclude that the ŭibyŏng 

was the enemy of the Church, and often worse than the Japanese police force. For example, Charles A. Clark (1878-1961, NP) was totally disgusted with the ŭibyŏng when he 

inspected the real aftermath of the ŭibyŏng’s righteous fighting in Kyŏnggi and Kangwŏn 

province in 1906. 

 

I saw the ruins of hundreds of houses burned either by the Japanese or the 

“euipyungs [sic],” for both are in the business. At Yanggeun, 300 houses, at Tukusoo, 80, Yongmoon, 80, and so on. There were the largest towns but every day we passed isolated house and small villages burned in whole or in part. Hundreds are living in caves… The Japanese have been very cruel, in some places, but on the whole not worse than the other side. The “euipyungs” are the real oppressors of the poor. Some months ago, there was a faint spark of patriotism in this movement and it no doubt lingers in some individuals, but my conclusion, from what I saw, is that 90% of them are in it for Number One and not for the sake of the country. They have never, so far as I could find, sought the Japanese to fight them. From the beginning, they have gone around in bands of 30 to 1500 men, going from village to village, summoning the leaders of the town and demanding great sums of money. Wherever they were refused, they murdered or tortured without limit…The “euipyungs” have taken food and clothes and money from the Christians and they burned one Christian village near Whang-sang-kol, but they have not as yet harmed any of our people physically…  

 

As ŭibyŏng guerrilla warfare dragged on, the state of the local churches deteriorated further. 

Clark’s report for the year 1907-08 depicted a grimmer picture of the war.  

 

The whole area has been passing through a reign of terror. All the opponents of the Japanese from the 13 provinces have assembled here because the mountains make it hard for the Japanese to catch them. The guerrilla fighters have roamed around in band living off the land. The Japanese have followed them wherever they could get any knowledge of them. Night and day, for months, continuous skirmishes have gone on. NO mercy was shown on either side. Anyone suspected of helping either side was at once shot by the other, if caught. Every house or village that entertained either side was at once burned by the other… It has put the church through a test of fire.   

 

The situation was no better in the Northern provinces. Mattie and Arthur Noble (1866-1945, NM) in Pyŏngyang, observed that “The We-pyung [sic] have for a long time not only been 

plundering and killing Japanese but their own country men and women in the interior, who they thought could give them money and help or who they suspected of being Japanese 

sympathizers.”   

  Totally repulsed by the undisciplined ŭibyŏng soldiers, James S. Gale (NP) 

introduced them in a negative light to Christian audiences overseas.   

 

A mad sort of spurious patriotism started into being, with suicide, chopping off of fingers, sworn oaths, guerrilla warfare flint-lock resistance. It still goes on to a considerable degree, while the poor people in valleys, caught between the two contending forces, have to pay the price of Korea’s past failures.   

 

While missionaries campaigned against the ŭibyŏng, there were instances where local Christian leaders were arrested and executed by Japanese on charges of being “participators 

in the insurrection.”  Though such radical elements were a small minority in the church, 

the missionaries were afraid that the Japanese would see the Korean Church as ŭibyŏng 

sympathizers. Therefore, the missionaries had all the more reason to keep the Korean Christians from taking any part in the resistance and avoid any engagement in political 

complications. 

  Most Korean Church leaders followed this mission policy loyally. Kil Sŏn-ju (1869-1935, NP), one of the first ordained Korean Elders, preached to the congregation in 

his church in Pyŏngyang not to join the ŭibyŏng and told the Christian that “the powers that 

be are ordained of God” and thus avoid confronting Japanese.  Some leaders took more 

positive action. Ch’oe Pyŏng-hŏn (1858-1927, NM), one of the first Korean Methodist 

pastors, accepted the Korean governmental appointment to become a “peace commissioner” (sŏnyusa) who would be sent to ŭibyŏng leaders in rural provinces and persuade them to 

lay down arms under royal authority. It was likely that this royal appointment was 

manipulated by the Japanese protectorate acting behind the crown, but Ch’oe accepted it 

positively, thinking, “it was not meddling with politics but simply an humanitarian 

measure.”   George Heber Jones (1867-1919, NM), who supervised Ch’oe, opposed his 

decision at first and refused to give his consent. But, upon Ch’oe’s plea, he gave him 

permission to become “commissioner” on condition that he should take a leave of absence 

from his church work.  It was the Korean Christian’s determination to negotiate with 

ŭibyŏng to lay their arms. Soon the Methodist Mission publicly expressed its support for Ch’oe’s mission and wished his success.  Endorsed by the missionary, Ch’oe visited rural 

villages in his home province of Ch’ungch’ong, escorted by the Japanese police, and 

preached to the local residents as well as the ŭibyŏng leaders, persuading them that the 

current and immediate need of Korea was to promote education among the common people 

and losing lives to armed resistance was to waste a valuable asset. Ch’oe’s campaigning 

had some effect and several ŭibyŏng leaders surrendered to the Japanese authority.    Likewise, Sŏ Sang-ryun (1848-1925, NP), one of the first Korean Protestant 

converts in Manchuria, who by then had become the senior leader of the Church, also 

received an appointment as “peace commissioner” and was dispatched to his home 

province of Hwanghae. However, Sŏ was less successful in his persuasion campaigns as he 

rejected the ŭibyŏng’s cause outright and branded them traitors against the royal order. During the tour, he was captured by the ŭibyŏng on one occasion and reportedly flogged a 

few dozen times, on suspicion of being a false “royal commissioner” and a “Japanese 

spy.”  

  For their part, the ŭibyŏng leaders thought that Korean Christians were simply 

manipulated by the missionaries. They thus planned an anti-missionary assault. In fact, an 

anonymous leader of the ŭibyŏng sent a death threat to George H. Jones, which aimed at “his life in ten days, and from him down to the Christians the burning of missionary homes” 

unless he recalled Ch’oe before then.339 The same letter was sent to James S. Gale, though 

he was not a Methodist missionary and had no control over Ch’oe. The scared missionaries 

decided to recall Ch’oe after consulting with the U.S. and British Consuls.340 They also 

reported to the Japanese police of the harassment and the Japanese sent the police guards to 

Jones’ residence to prepare for the ŭibyŏng’s attack, for which Jones was very thankful.341  These Korean Christian and missionary reactions to the ŭibyŏng show that 

anti-Japanese nationalism did not bond the Christians the ŭibyŏng together, but divided 

them farther apart. For the ŭibyŏng, the Christians were identified as followers of the 

heterodox religious rule of the foreign missionaries and were thus traitors. Their 

anti-Christian sentiment was so strong that they had little sympathy for Korean Christians 

                                                   

339

 Mattie Noble’s Diary (2/12/1908, 2/15/1908).  

340

 Gale was a Canadian citizen and the British Embassy was in charge of the Canadians in Seoul. 341

 Kikuchi Takeichi to Sone Arasuke, titled “Beikoku senkyōshi ni kansuru hōkoku” (2/15/1908)  in Kuksa p'yŏnchʻan wiwŏnhoe, ed. T'onggambu munsŏ vol.1 (Kwach'ŏn-si: Kuksa p'yŏnch'an wiwŏnhoe 1998). 

 

and robbed property and money for their righteous war against the Japanese. As seen in 

Chapter 2, such anti-Christian violence had been prevalent in Korea prior to the Japanese Protectorate and this was not the first time that Christians were physically threatened by 

non-Christians. By contrast, the Korean Christians and missionaries viewed the ŭibyŏng as 

bandits or anti-Christian thugs. As they possessed no military power to challenge the 

ŭibyŏng, however, they had to rely on the suppression campaigns of the Japanese 

protectorate. Hence, it was not a critical issue for them whether the government force was Japanese or Korean. They simply needed any power that could pacify the uncontrolled 

violence of the ŭibyŏng and restore an order in which they could enjoy the freedom of 

religion. Their primary objective lay in preserving the security of their religious as well as 

material life with the Church at its center, even if this was accomplished under foreign rule. 

It is also worth noting that there was an important historical precedent for Korean Christian reliance on foreign protection. Catholic Christians under the Chosŏn dynasty had 

also been dependent upon foreign power and prerogatives for protection of their existence. The missionary’s extraterritorial rights had been the primary defense against government 

persecution, but they had been ineffective against the uncontrolled violence of 

anti-Christian mobs and riots. Thus, physical force was at times needed and, following this logic, the missionaries welcomed Japanese intervention to suppress the anti-foreign and 

anti-Christian Tonghaks in 1894 and appreciated peace under Japanese domination in the 

postwar era where they gained greater freedom of religion and Christian growth took off. Taking into account such historical context, the Christian reliance on the Japanese against 

the anti-Christian ŭibyŏng was in accord with their past behavioral patterns. As long as 

Korean society at large maintained an intolerant and violent attitude toward Christianity, Korean Christians always needed an external guarantor of their security, whether in the 

form of the western missionaries or the Japanese colonial power. 

  In short, the missionaries and Korean Christians wanted the restoration of peace 

and order above all and worked diligently to achieve this goal. The Methodist Mission 

commended such Christian efforts, and gladly reported to the Board that:  

 

Both at Seoul and Pyengyang [sic], and throughout the disturbed sections, the Christians exerted their influence on the side of law and order and contributed very largely to keeping the spirit of disorder under control. In the north, no uprising against the government occurred, and this was all the more remarkable, as the people in Pyengyang and the northern provinces are the most excitable and turbulent in the empire.   

 

The Mission thus concluded the report proudly: 

 

Any just review of the causes which contributed to tranquility must give a large share of credit to the restraining influence of the churches. Throughout this entire region, both in the north and at Seoul, misguided patriots threatened the lives of missionaries and native preachers because their influence was against disorder, but as the result of the counsels and restraining influence of the Christian workers, bloodshed was prevented and order maintained.  

 

In other words, the major contribution of the Korean Church in this period was not to 

promote anti-Japanese nationalist struggles, but to suppress it. 

   

Mass Revivals in 1907 

  While missionaries and Korean Christians stayed out of politics, they made a 

concerted effort to propagate the gospel and disseminate the message of religious salvation 

among the general populace. Korean Christians, who were mostly poor and socially 

underprivileged, had neither the political will nor the material means to rise up in arms 

against the Korean government, ŭibyŏng or the Japanese protectorate. The desperate 

hopelessness and helplessness prevailed among the impoverished Koreans and the 

missionaries often heard their crying, “Wei-chi hal kot tomochi oupso [ŭiji hal kot tomuji ŏpsŏ],” meaning “there is altogether no place to trust.”  In a time when hope for 

socio-political salvation was fading away, many Koreans were tempted to seek religious 

salvation as an alternative. This desire led to a series of Christian revivals, beginning in the 

northern regions of Korea in the wake of the Japanese Protectorate, but quickly spreading 

all over the country and reaching its peak in 1907 at the “Great Revival” in Pyŏngyang.  The “Great Revival” has been explained as the expression of Korean Christian 

nationalism, in which Korean Christians cried and prayed for national rejuvenation and 

salvation. However, the missionaries at least did not note such a nationalist agenda in the 

revival, but rather intended to make it an opportunity to promote religious piety and keep Koreans away from national politics. William Blair (n.a.- 1970, NP), one of the initiators of 

the Revival, articulated his purpose as follows.  

 

We felt that the Korean church needed not only to repent of hating the Japanese, but a clear vision of all sin against God, that many had come into the church sincerely believing in Jesus as their Savior and anxious to do God’s will without great sorrow for sin because of its familiarity… We felt…that embittered souls needed to have their thoughts taken away from the national situation to their own personal relation with the Master.  

 

There is no way of knowing if Korean Christians repented the sin of hating Japanese as the 

missionaries instructed, but there is evidence that missionaries and Korean Christians 

invited Japanese residents in Pyŏngyang to the Revival and proselytized them at that time. 

George H. Jones, for example, was greatly impressed by Japanese participation in the 

Korean Revival.  

 

A number of Japanese were converted in the meetings held in Pyengyang, although they were ignorant of the Korean language and the contact was altogether in spirit. The Christians who witnessed the effects of the revival on the Koreans were profoundly moved and carried back the news to Japan, where in several instances it resulted in quickening the Japanese Church... One night there came into the meeting in Pyengyang a Japanese army officer who appeared to be deeply interested in what was taking place. When the Christians knelt in prayer, he knelt with them, but when they arose he continued prostrate before God. No one present could speak the Japanese language, so it was not possible to communicate with him…The next day he came with the pastor of the Japanese church in Pyengyang to see the missionary. He told of how in the past he had no belief in existence of God, but in the meeting had been so impressed with what had taken place that he could doubt no longer his being and presence, and there had given his heart to Christ. As he was soon to return to Japan he requested baptism, and the following night a little group of Japanese took their place in the midst of the vast audience of Koreans. At the close of the service this soldier-Christian was baptized into the Christian faith amid the common rejoicing of Japanese and Koreans. The officer returned to Japan with his heart filled with the divine passion for souls. He preached the gospel in the garrison city to which he was appointed with such earnestness that the entire community was deeply stirred and many persons brought to Christ. This is but typical of the possible influence that Korea may exert upon her neighbors.346 

 

The joy of transnational alliance in faith was also experienced by Presbyterian missionaries, 

who visited Pyŏngyang to attend the Great Revival, and met Japanese Christians there.  

 

Sometimes Mr. Murata, the Japanese evangelist, and other Japanese 

Christians attend and take part, either in broken English or in pure Japanese, which none of us can understand. And yet, strange to say, interpreted by common sympathy and faith, we all feel the spirit of what they are saying, and are enabled to join in heartily with them in prayer.347 

 

The Japanese involvement in the Great Revival in Korea was more than nominal. It 

inspired Japanese Christians both in Korea and at home, and some Japanese Christians in 

the mainland, who were inspired by the news of the revival in Korea, even made an 

inspection tour of Pyŏngyang in 1907,348 and reported favorably of the spiritual 

development in the neighboring country upon their return to Japan.349  

                                                   

346

 George Heber Jones and Arthur W. Noble, The Korean Revival (New York: Board of Foreign Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 1910 ca.), 43-44. 

347

 Mrs. W. M. Baird, “The Spirit Among Pyeng Yang Students,” Korea Mission Field (May 1907): 67. 348

 M.C. Harris, “Christianity in Japan and Korea,” Missionary Review of the World (March 1911), 190. 349

 “Chōsen no kirisuto kyō,”Fukuin Shinpō (9/8/1910); Murata Jūji, “Kakoku jijō”, Gokyō (3/20/1909).  

As mentioned above, some missionaries entertained visions of making Koreans 

future missionaries among other Asian peoples. From the missionary point of view, then, 

the evangelizing efforts of Korean Christians toward the Japanese were quite desirable and 

satisfactory. The missionaries were thus proud of Korean Christians being neighbor-loving 

evangelists rather than anti-Japanese fighters. For the missionaries, the Korean loss of 

national independence was sufficiently compensated by the growing evangelization of Korea and its transnational impact upon its colonizing neighbors. And, whether willing or 

unwilling, the Korean Christians conformed to the missionary’s expectations. At a 

minimum, they never chose to confront the powers that be.  

 

Silence about Annexation 

  Having given up hope for Korea’s independence after the Protectorate Treaty, the 

missionaries had no reason to oppose the formal Japanese annexation of Korea. They 

calmly accepted annexation and taught the Korean Christians “submission to the inevitable, 

rather than a reckless waste of life and treasure.”  In fact, some missionaries expected 

that the annexation would bring merit to Korean Christians. For instance, Henry Bruen (1874-1957), a Presbyterian minister (NP), gladly observed the change of the atmosphere in 

the Korean Church after the annexation.  

 

The supremacy of the Japanese in Korea having become a definite reality even the vague and shadowy hope of political succor in time of stress, which was something of a motive in the minds of some in coming in the church and from among whom the church eventually secured some earnest spiritual minded members, is no longer operative.  

 

In other words, the Japanese colonization of Korea was helpful in purifying the Church as 

politically-minded Christians would leave the church, having lost their last hope for Korean 

independence. To the missionaries, the less political hope for Koreans, the better for Korean Christians.  

In sum, the Korean Church under missionary control did not make any 

contribution to the Korean nationalist cause. The Church remained as a community of the 

religiously devout but apolitical Koreans who prioritized individual salvation from sin over 

national salvation from the Japanese empire. Such a disinterested attitude on the part of Korean Christians at a time of national crisis was shockingly disappointing to secular 

Korean nationalists who resisted Japanese rule either through armed resistance or printed dissent. Thus, Taehan Maeil Sinbo, a popular Korean newspaper that represented the 

nationalist camp at the time, publicly condemned the Korean Church and renounced its 

religious pietism as treason to the nation.  

 

We don’t say that no Christians have any national spirit (kukka chŏngsin), but there are many who do not have it… Among the Christians, there are those who know only the salvation of the spirit but do not know the salvation of the flesh; know the way to heaven, but do not know the business of this world; know the blessing in heaven or the suffering in hell, but do not know the preservation of a state or the demise of a nation. 

How can we not be appalled by their attitude!  

   

The editorial continued to argue that the teaching of “turn the other cheek" in the Bible “should not be applied to Koreans today whose country has been destroyed and whose 

people are suffering” and urged that “Koreans today must be sympathetic to the suffering of 

fellow Koreans and resist the violent Satan.”   Nonetheless, the majority of Korean 

Christians did not heed this call to join the anti-Japanese uprising. Following orthodox Christian doctrine and missionary instructions, they remained loyal to secular authority kept 

their distance from the nationalist camp. After all, nationalism was not a primary value for 

Korean Christians, and identification of the Church and nationalism was totally unthinkable in the historical context of the time, where the Mission stood in between and blocked such 

union.  

 

   

 

Chapter 6 Korean Christian Revolts against Ecclesiastical Authority 

 

  From the beginning of the mission through the 1910s, missionaries retained 

controlling power over the Korean Church. Not only did they dictate the internal 

management of the Korean Church, but they also suppressed the relationship of Korean Christians to political matters outside the Church. During this period, the controlling power 

of missionaries was generally secure and did not face a serious challenge from Koreans. There were, however, sporadic murmurings of dissent among Koreans against the 

missionaries. In the beginning, missionaries could relatively easily suppress such dissent 

behind the scenes, but gradually oppositional voices against the missionaries grew stronger 

and took on a visible form so that missionaries had to deal with Korean dissatisfaction more 

seriously. This chapter focuses on the Korean Christian challenge to missionary authority 

and analyzes how it affected the development of the Korean Church.  

 

Dispute in Kon Dang Kol Church 

In the early stage of the mission, Protestant missionaries could not infiltrate the 

Korean aristocracy, and thus targeted lower-class Koreans as the primary object of their evangelizing campaigns. As a part of its effort to evangelize the poor, the Presbyterian 

mission selected a slum district of Seoul called Kon Dang Kol and built a church there in 1893, assigning Samuel F. Moore (NP) as its minister. 

 During the Chosŏn dynasty, when rigid social status distinctions were maintained, 

the residential areas of Seoul were divided along status lines and Kon Dang Kol was an 

area inhabited by the lowest social castes, including paekchŏng, who were severely 

discriminated against for their animal-related occupations such as butchery and leather 

work. Adjacent to Kon Dang Kol to the north was another residential area called Pukch’on, 

where yangban aristocrats and high-ranking government officials resided. And, this setting 

of Kon Dang Kol between lower and upper social castes important provided a cause of 

dispute in the church later. 

The church was started with 16 members, but membership quickly grew to 43 

within a year and became the largest of the five Presbyterian churches in Seoul by 1896.  Needless to say, the majority of this church’s members were the lower class Koreans in the 

area. Perhaps because of the church’s proximity to the yangban’s residence, however, there were also a few aristocratic members such as Yi Sŭng-du and Ma Yŏng-jun. Though it is 

not clear how prestigious their family status was within yangban society, it was rare to see Korean church members of the upper classes among the predominantly lower class 

congregation.  

The mixed class composition of the Kon Dang Kol church may tempt one to see it 

as an example of Christian egalitarianism put into practice. Such, however, was not the case. When Samuel Moore met a man by the name of Pak, a paekchŏng, and brought him to the 

church, it upset the congregation, especially, those belonging to the upper classes, who saw 

it as disgraceful to have a paekchŏng in their church. Moreover, when Moore baptized Pak 

and gave him full church membership, many found this intolerable and left the church to 

avoid being treated by missionaries on equal terms with paekchŏng.  

Moore sadly reported to the Board that “Yesterday at church half a dozen regular 

attendants were absent… they felt they could not belong to the same church as a butcher” 

since “one might take a beggar up and make a man of him but the butcher can never 

rise.”  What embarrassed Moore even more, however, was that these anti-paekchŏng Christians did want to maintain their affiliation with the church. The dissident leader, Yi 

Sŭng-du, said that they should build a chapel somewhere else or meet for worship at home. Moore tried to persuade them against this plan, but they did not listen to him. Moore 

reported the Board of the consequence of trouble as follows. 

I said that I thought it strange that children of one Father could not sit down together in one room. The butcher could keep still no longer but came and sat before them [yanbans] and asked what sin he had committed against their highness... When he [butcher] came here he thought our religion was one that took up the lost and dying sinners and lifted them to heaven… The yangban’s religion would permit only the highest classes to go to heaven… [Yangban] Yi lost his temper and began to speak very loudly and abusively. When I told him to hush up the yangban all went out together.”  

About a month later some of the yangban returned. According to Moore, “they 

acknowledged themselves in the wrong and promised to do better,” but some yangbans 

insisted that “they can only return to the church on one condition, that a custom be 

established giving the yangban seats of honor and the butchers the back seat of the room as 

per Korean Custom.”   But, when Moore rejected the suggestion, they said that he would 

not return to the church but remain a Christian and observe the Sabbath at home.  

The dissident yangbans then started a separate meeting and soon established their 

own church, Hong Mun Suk Kol church in Pukch’on, the yangban district north of Kon Dang Kol. There they observed Sabbath service, held prayer meetings and also engaged in 

evangelism in the area.  This yangban-centered church soon attracted Christians from 

other churches in Seoul, presumably yangbans, who formally transferred their memberships 

to join the church.   

No doubt was it the yangbans’ motive for splitting the church was their desire to 

preserve the distinction of their social status. While this motive would not be considered 

morally respectable today, their decision was nonetheless a historic event because it was the 

first case in Korean Church history of a Korean congregation opposing missionary 

authority and establishing a separate church of their own. The dissident yangbans 

demonstrated that Koreans could run a church independently without missionary 

endorsement. It is important to note, however, that achieving full ecclesiastical 

independence from the Mission was not their ultimate goal but only a means of establishing 

social segregation in the Church. In fact, when the Mission recognized the yangban-only Hong Mun Sok Kol Church, the congregation was reconnected with the missionaries and 

invited them to visit their pulpit and give sermons every week.  To the yangbans, the 

missionaries were objectionable only when they threatened the social hierarchy; they were 

otherwise considered to be acceptable as teachers of a new religion.   

There are several possible reasons why missionaries endorsed social segregation in 

the Church, but the mostly likely reason was that segregation was still practiced even in the United States. In fact, Samuel Moore recalled the segregation at home when he saw off the 

yangbans from his church.   

The yangbans went off without saying good bye to me and told my teacher that they were never coming back. At first I was disposed to think them sinners above most all others, but when another missionary reminded me that at home also there were Christian people who would not allow low people or colored brethren to meet with them for worship, and I remembered that these [Koreans] have only just come out of the darkest heathenism, I felt more lenient.  

 

This testimony shows that the missionary understood the issue of social status in Korea as 

being similar to the issues of race and class in the United States. It was thus understandable that they took a pragmatic or gradualist approach to the toleration of segregation within the Korean Church. Hence, segregation was not considered a sin in the Korean Church and 

missionaries later ordained Yi Sŭng-du and Mok Wŏn-gŭn as the first deacons of the church 

regardless of their roles as leading segregationists.   

This ordination had a symbolic meaning insofar as it meant that the missionaries 

had sustained their ecclesiastical authority over the yangban Christians. By endorsing 

segregation in the church, the missionaries alleviated the yangbans’ frustration and kept 

them under their control, without losing the yangban class from their church causing them 

to apostate. Segregation was a means to sustain the integrity of Korean Christians under 

missionary control.  

Nevertheless, a few years later the yangbans would have to pay the price for their 

recognition for the missionary authority. In 1901, the Hong Mun Sok Kol Church was shut 

down by the Presbyterian Mission and the congregation was dissolved for good. Available 

sources tell us that there were two reasons in the main for the closure: First, the church building and land was purchased using a corrupt source of funding; Second, some members 

brought unbelievers to the church and used the church building for inappropriate purposes 

without approval of the church session, though further details were not accounted.  For 

this scandal, the missionaries excommunicated the church’s seventeen members and 

transferred the rest of the congregation to other churches in Seoul. With such a high-handed 

manner, the Hong Mun Suk Kol Church, the first church established by Korean initiative, 

was closed overnight and disappeared from history. There were many mysteries about this 

church closure, but what this incident clearly showed is that who had the power in 

administering the Korean Church.  

 

Dispute in Yŏndong Church 

  The Kon Dang Kol church was not the only institution that was split over the 

problem of social status and caused yangban’s opposition to the missionary. The same 

problem occurred in Yŏndong Church, one of the oldest Presbyterian churches in Seoul in 1909. Interestingly, the dissidents were influential members of the church such as Yi 

Wŏn-gŭng, Yu Sŏng-jun, and Ham U-t’aek and, all of whom were aristocratic yangbans, and two of them, Yi and Yun, were the famous “converts in prison” mentioned in the 

previous chapter. These yangbans were helped by James S. Gale, while in prison, and after 

their release, they had come to attend Yŏndong Church where Gale was ministering. 

Gale was a great benefactor to the yangbans in the sense he first provided them 

with the chance to encounter with Christianity, but the yangbans soon discovered that Gale 

was self-righteous, giving preferential treatment to lower-class Koreans and neglecting the 

yangbans on purpose. They felt especially insulted in 1909 when Gale ordained Ko Ch’an-ik (1861-1908), and Yi Myŏng-hyŏk (1863-1930), both of whom came from lower 

class society, but rejected Yi Wŏn-gŭng’s candidacy for eldership without much 

explanation.  

  Perhaps Gale meant to teach the yangbans social equality and demonstrate 

Christian egalitarianism in his church by such appointments, but it seems he did so with 

little respect for the yangbans and the traditional education they received. His basic view on 

Korean education was that “in Korea [education] is like a foot bandage…for the mind---once fairly put on and all growth and development is at an end,”   and thus he 

said of the Korean upper class equipped with such education: “An idle existence brings 

with it no stings of conscience; in fact, the native who can scheme to do nothing, proves by 

all the logic of antiquity his right to be classed among the gentry.”    

Given such a low view of Korean intellectuals, surely Gale eventually would have 

collided with the yangbans who had kept their pride in their Confucian education, even if 

the incident involving the ordination of lower class Koreans described above had not 

occurred. In any case, when the yangbans’ frustration reached its peak, they left the church 

in several groups and formed the splinter church, Myodong church in 1910,  and 

continued to hold Sunday service without the presence of missionaries. The yangban Christians were driven by their class interest in founding the new church, but they 

nonetheless accomplished their independence from the foreign mission, something 

unprecedented in Korean church history.   

 

Disputes in Pyŏngyang  

  The above two cases of Korean challenges to missionary authority were led by the 

yangbans in Seoul and their major causes were rooted in issues of class, but there were 

other cases in which anti-missionary sentiment of Korean Christians was expressed in a 

more direct manner.  

In 1907, when the Northern Methodist Mission held its conference in Pyŏngyang, 

a number of Korean Christians came up to break the service and demanded that the 

missionaries should publicly proclaim that Dr. Douglas Follwell (NM), a medical 

missionary in Pyŏngyang, was a “wicked man.”370 The cause of trouble was Follwell’s 

dispute with a Korean church member over land property, for which the missionary took his 

case to the local magistrate for judgment. His action could have been justified legally, but 

the Methodist Church had a rule that “a brother having a matter against a brother should 

have it come before the Church committee and not take it to law.”371 Of course, it was the 

Mission that made this rule and taught its Korean church members to follow. Thus, Korean 

                                                                                                                                                           

the first Korean publication of this kind. Myodong kyohoesa 80-chunyŏn p'yŏnch'an wiwŏnhoe, Myodong kyohoe 80-nyŏnsa , 160.   

370

 Mattie Noble’s Diary (7/8/1907). 

371

 Mattie Noble’s Diary (7/8/1907). 

Christians were angered by this contradiction and expressed their frustration in the Mission Conference, where many missionaries from other Missions and Churches were also present 

beside the Methodist missionaries.  

  The Methodist missionaries could not control the Korean protesters who kept 

shouting and clamored for everyone to stop worshipping during the service. Observing the 

disorder, Yun Ch’i-ho, who happened to be there as an honorable guest from the Southern Methodist Church in Korea, intervened to help the troubled missionary. As Yun was one of 

few prominent yangban Christians and well respected by Koreans, he was able to quiet 

down the Korean protesters quickly and resume the service. After the conference, however, 

the frustrated Koreans continued to demand that the Mission take disciplinary action 

against Follwell and intimidated that they would form a separate Church of their own. In 

fact, they soon began holding separate services at the private residence of one of their 

members. Finally, Follwell was forced to admit his wrongdoing and went to the Koreans to 

ask for forgiveness. But it was too late; these Korean Christians rejected his apology and 

did not return to the Church.  

  The Methodist missionaries were deeply embarrassed to show such a trouble 

happening to the missionary guests from other countries while they were in Korea. 

However, W. R. Lambuth, a long-time Japan missionary and the head of Kansei Gakuin College in Kōbe, was very understanding and told them his view, which impressed Mattie 

Noble (NM). 

  

Dr. Lambuth says he thinks it remarkable so many years have elapsed without a demonstration of this kind [in Korea]. He says he has seen churches split in two [sic] many times in China and Japan, and our growth has been phenomenal.  

 

What struck Lambuth was not the rising Korean voice against the missionary in front of his 

eyes, but the fact that there had not been such challenge to the missionary before in Korea. To him, Korea missionaries were remarkable in that they had kept local Christians under 

control and achieved the church growth without being challenged by them. 

 

Christians caught-in between Missionaries and Nationalists 

  Meanwhile, the pastor of the Church, Yi Ǔn-sŭng, a missionary’s protégée, was 

caught between the missionaries and the Korean congregation and had to make the difficult 

decision of which of the two sides to take. As a Korean, he could perhaps understand well the anti-missionary sentiment among his congregation, but he could not betray the 

missionaries who raised him as a pastor.   

 

For many years they [Koreans] wouldn't have translators of Scripture, great scholars... and there was no ground for their leaving their beloved missionaries… I have been with and learned of Mr. Noble for nearly ten years and I will stay by them [missionaries].  

 

The missionaries “all rejoiced” to hear Yi’s confession of faith. Especially, Mrs. Noble, 

whose husband’s long tutelage of Yi was rewarded, was happy to write in her diary, that “He [Yi] was faithful and loyal, as I had believed he would be.”  What made her even 

happier was that her Bible women and helpers as well as “a number of the faithful” stayed 

in the Church.  

  However, the “faithful” followers of the missionaries were seen as betrayers by the Korean protesters. In fact, the dissenting Koreans were angry at the Bible woman and 

helpers who supported the missionaries and abused them verbally, “You who receive pay 

from the foreigners won’t stand by your people for their independence. Only paid hirelings 

stand by them. We wouldn’t ask you to come with us.”  For independent-minded Korean Christians, association with the missionaries was no longer a merit but a disgrace for the Korean Church, and the symbol of Korean subjugation to foreign rule. Hence, they began 

to call for national independence from the missionaries within the Church.  

 Nonetheless, Arthur Noble, the Superintendent of the Northern Methodist Mission, who closely observed the situation, did not think that the missionaries were 

responsible for the Korean uprising. In his report to Bishop Harris, Noble mentioned Follwell’s misbehavior as one of the causes, but he placed greater fault on the lack of 

discipline among Korean Christians and regretted that “we have been receiving a great 

mass of people who have not been thoroughly indoctrinated in our Church law and 

regulations.” On the other hand, he also blamed the Japanese for agitating and assisting 

anti-missionary movement from outside. According to his report, the Japanese governor of 

the Province was seeking to “destroy the American influence in Northern Korea by 

influencing the Christians to separate into independent churches” and “the Japanese have 

visited the disaffected people and encouraged them in the movement, while the local Japanese papers took it up with vigor and by garbled of affairs [sic] tried to enflame the 

people.”   

Noble’s claim was not groundless as the Japanese authority was becoming 

increasingly suspicious and inimical to missionaries who still enjoyed extraterritorial 

immunity from the Japanese protectorate government. However, he did not reflect upon the 

question of why Korean Christians were susceptible to Japanese propaganda despite the 

fact that Koreans in general felt an “irritation of foreign domination in political and social 

life” under Japanese rule. Perhaps he knew that missionaries were becoming increasingly 

unpopular, but did not want to admit it publicly. In fact, Noble’s Annual Report of that year 

kept silent about the serious church split in Pyongyang, but mentioned only positive 

developments.  

 

Pyengyang: Never in the history of our work has the City church shown so much of the real spiritual life as it does at the present. Our total following is 2,123. There have been added to the church rolls over 300 during the year… This church is by far the strongest church in the North.  

 

The report of the numerical growth of the Church was probably true, but it was deceptive 

insofar as it revealed only one side of the dynamic development of the Korean Church in 

that region. Behind the increasing number of Christians, there was growing Korean dissatisfaction about the missionary’s presence in the Korean Church and some began to 

challenge missionary authority under the direct or indirect influence of the Japanese 

protectorate.  

 

Alliance with the Japanese Church 

  Given that previous studies have stressed anti-Japanese nationalism as a core value 

of the Korean Church, Noble’s observation that some Koreans Christians were pushed by 

the Japanese propaganda in an anti-missionary direction may strike us as peculiar today. However, there were other cases where Korean Christians’ conflict with missionaries led 

their churches to seek assistance from the Japanese.  

Ch’oe Chung-jin was a minister at a Presbyterian church in Chŏlla Province, 

where the Southern Presbyterian Mission had exclusive jurisdiction. In 1910, Ch’oe 

submitted a petition to the local Presbytery in which he made five specific demands to the 

missionaries. The summary of his demands was : 1) Do not be too strict about the Korean 

baptismal candidates and give them more freedom in practicing their faith, 2) To assign him 

a broader mission territory, 3) Establish a middle school in his region, 4) Establish a “relief 

committee” with the mission fund and help affected members of the church in time of natural disasters, 5) The Mission should provide free housing for Korean pastors as it did 

for the missionaries.   

  These five demands correspond quite closely to the problems plaguing the Korea 

mission discussed in previous chapters. First, the baptismal rights of Korean converts were 

monopolized by the missionary since there were few Korean ordinations. Second, Korean 

pastors were treated more as “helpers” than as ministers and assigned to work in areas 

according to the territorial division of the Missions. Third, the general education of Koreans 

was neglected and there was no mission school above the elementary grade. Fourth, the 

majority of Korean Christians lived in poverty and needed constant material support from 

the Mission, especially in times of famine. Fifth, missionaries were provided good housing 

and extremely high salaries from the mission, while the Korean pastors were compensated 

less for the same work. In short, Ch’oe’s petition was based upon astute observations made 

in the field and accurately diagnosed what was wrong with missionary policy.    However, Ch’oe’s petition to improve the rights and welfare of Korean ministers 

rights and well-being was rejected by the Presbytery. Ch’oe resisted sending a letter of 

objection to the Presbytery, criticizing the missionary. 

 

Listen, You missionaries from the West! How much [salary] do you receive every month? Read the Gospel of Matthew 7: 12,  and repent! You should provide a part of what you receive for poor Korean pastors and helpers and then let them work. They [first] have to be clothed and fed.  

 

As we have seen in Chapter 3, Korean helpers were paid less than one tenth of an average 

missionary salary, and the pay rate was as low as that of coolie or peasants at that time, In 

this light, Ch’oe’s plea represented a real grievous cry of Korean Christian leaders who 

were struggling in dire poverty and nothing too demanding at all.  

  Nonetheless, the mission-dominated Presbytery not only rejected his letter but 

condemned him for “[being an] ingrate,” “law-breaking,” and “disobedience,” and ousted 

from the Church, with his name removed from the membership list.  This was a clear 

message from the missionaries that any attempt by the Korean Christians to stand on par 

with the missionary was tantamount to treason. The duty of Korean Christians was to 

accept their secondary status and remain loyal to the higher authority of the Presbytery.  

Though ousted from the Presbyterian Church, Ch’oe did not become an apostate. 

Rather, he established his own church independent of missionary control and named it the “Free Christian Church of Korea” (Taehan yesugyo chayu kyohoe). In western Christian 

history, the term "free church" usually refers to a Church pursuing independence from the 

state church or government intervention, but for Ch’oe “freedom” meant ecclesiastical 

independence from the missionaries. According to the conventional interpretation, Ch’oe’s 

action was the manifestation of Christian nationalism. For instance, Yi Tŏk-chu stresses 

that Ch’oe was the first Korean pastor who demonstrated the “subjectivity of the Korean Church” by criticizing the dictatorial rule of the missionaries.  Indeed, Ch’oe was a man 

of great subjective agency but we should not overlook that he was excommunicated by the Korean Church for the very “subjectivity” that he demonstrated. His independence 

movement was the antithesis of the Korean Church in which Korean Christians were 

subjugated to the missionary control. He was a Christian nationalist, but he had to leave the Church in order to demonstrate it. 

Moreover, Yi’s argument completely overlooks the fact that Ch’oe’s “Free Church” 

soon joined the Japanese Congregationalist Church that had started sending Japanese Christian missionaries to Korea after annexation in 1910.  The independent-minded Ch’oe did not stop at breaking ties with the mission-dominated Korean Church, but went 

further to ally himself with the Japanese Church. Given that previous studies have stressed 

that anti-Japanese sentiment was a core value of the Korean Church, the decision of a Korean Christian to transfer his allegiance to the Japanese Church may strike us as peculiar 

today. As I shall discuss below, however, Ch’oe was not alone in seeking association with 

the Japanese Church 

For instance, Ch’a Hag-yŏn, a church leader in Kanggye, Pyŏngan Province, was 

dissatisfied with missionary rule and split from the church along with his followers. 

Moreover, he “seized the old church property on the theory that they were entitled to it.”  It was at this time that Ch’a decided to visit Ch’oe Chung-jin in Chŏlla Province after 

hearing that he too was also making a stand against the missionaries. On his way to the 

southern Province, Ch’a met Watase Tsuneyoshi (1867-1894), a Japanese Congregationalist 

missionary, in Seoul and discussed his possible transfer to the Japanese Congregationalist Church.  Finally, both Ch’a and Ch’oe joined the Japanese Congregationalist Church 

along with their followers. Like-minded independents and close associates of Ch’oe 

Chung-jin all over Chŏlla Province decided to join the Congregational Church.  On January 7, 1912, Watase and his Korean fifty Korean attendants including Ch’a and others, 

conducted a ceremony to celebrate the union of these 14 Korean churches of total 600 

members with the Japanese Congregational Church, and Watase ordained Kim Ki-ch’an 

and also appointed Yi Kŭn-hong during the ceremony.  

Shortly afterward, another Korean Methodist minister, Kim Sang-bae, from Ch’ungch’ong province also joined the Congregational Church with his 200 followers. Kim 

had been excommunicated from the Methodist Mission after having trouble with 

missionaries. However, the Korean congregation supported Kim and objected to the 

missionary decision. Consequently, the missionary withdrew from the area, abandoning the 

pastoral care for the church and Kim had no other choice but to preach in the region 

independently, maintaining several churches under his care.  It was after this period of isolation from the Mission that Kim and his followers in Ch’ungch’ong Province sought the 

membership of the Congregational Church. 

In the case of Kim Chang-ho in Hwanghae Province, he blamed the missionaries 

for imposing anti-intellectual fundamentalist theology on the Korean Church. He was tried 

in the court of the church and chastised for teaching a liberal interpretation of the Bible.  

He then left the church to establish an independent church of his own, the Korean Christian 

Church (chosŏn kidokkyohoe), which did not become a member of the Congregationalist 

Church but retained a close affiliation.    

These leaders all resided in the region, but the Congregationalist boom was seen 

also in Seoul. The key Korean Congregationalist leader in Seoul was Kim Chŏng-sik, one 

of the prominent yangban converts in prison. After his conversion, Kim became a pastor 

and he was dispatched to Japan to minister Korean students group at the Korean Y.M.C.A. in Tokyo. In 1916, he returned to Korea and joined the Congregationalist Church and 

became its active member.  By that time, he was well-known among Korean Christian 

leaders for his staunch anti-missionary posture, which Yun-Ch’iho, Kim’s close friend, testifies in the following episode, when they made a joint trip to Chŏnju, Chŏlla Province, 

to attend the Y.M.C.A convention in April 1917. 

 

Our Chŏnju experience has been on the whole very pleasant. No friction. 

But the attitude of indifference of the missionaries resident in Chŏnju. They showed no sign of welcome on arrival, no sign of courtesy on parting, no sign of hospitality during the convention. Such a perfect indifference and inhospitality to the delegates was deeply felt by all the Koreans. Then Kim Jung Sik [sic] who is strongly anti-f[oreign] some hand throw concerning missionaries.    

 

Moreover, Kim was so strongly anti-foreign that he tried to persuade Yun to “raise fund 

among the Japanese so as to free the Y.M.C.A. from the grip of Americans.”  From these 

testimonies, we can reasonably assume that Kim’s participation in the Japanese Church had 

much to do with his anti-missionary sentiments. 

As previous studies have revealed, the Japanese Congregationalist mission was 

manifestly an imperial agent in the sense it was partly funded by the Japanese colonial 

government, albeit in a clandestine manner.  However, it is important to note that despite 

adversarial conditions such as the prevailing anti-Japanese sentiment and the omnipresence 

of Western missionaries, a mass conversion of some Koreans to the Japanese Church nevertheless did take place. The Missionary Handbook, edited in 1920 by the Western 

missionaries, recorded that the Japanese Congregationalist Church had 200 churches with 

20,000 members in 1920 and “except for two, all the thirteen provinces are occupied.”  

There is not enough primary evidence to judge whether the leaders of the Korean 

churches that joined the Japanese Congregationalism Church were willing to endorse 

Japanese colonialism. However, Kim Chŏng-sik, at least, was clearly aware of and against 

Japanese aggression in Korea. Yun Ch’i-ho’s diary records a following episode to show 

Kim’s stand against Japanese. One day Kim saw a Japanese policeman kicked down an old Korean woman on the street, whom nobody seemed to take any notice of. So, Kim 

intervened and suggested the police to send her to the nearest hospital.  So, as a close 

friend and observer of Kim, Yun Ch’i-ho’s conclusive view of Kim was that “Mr. Kim 

Chŏng-sik, while pro-Japanese is true to Korea.”  

Being pro-Japanese but true to Korea sounds like a contradiction, but reveals 

precisely what drove Korean Christians leaders to join the Congregationalist Church. They 

were not happy about Japanese colonialism but they were equally unhappy about the western missionary dominance over the Korean Church. As a Christian leader, their priority 

was to emancipate Korean Christians from the missionary’s yoke and they chose to ally 

with the Japanese Christians to achieve that purpose. They were true to the Korean 

nationalist cause in that their ultimate aim was to bring more Korean autonomy within the Church. Despite his personal animosity against the Japanese, Kim’s Christian nationalism 

seems to have led him to seek Korea’s ecclesiastical independence from the missionaries 

before national independence from Japanese.  

In any case, there is no doubt that Korean Christian leaders could find practical 

merits in joining the Congregational Church according to their need and situation. First, 

having severed their relations with the Western missions, the Korean leaders needed to 

secure an alternative source of political and financial support and they likely saw the Japanese mission as the better alternative. In fact, the Congregationalist Mission dispensed 

abundant funds to aid the financially weak Korean churches. Since the pastor like Ch’oe Chung-jin had long been troubled by the low salary and had actually asked the foreign 

missionary for the material aid and got rejected, he had little reason to reject the Japanese 

funds as alternative if it were provided for the improvement for Korean welfare. According 

to the internal records of 1915, the Congregational Mission paid on average fifteen to twenty yen a month for the salary of Korean ministers in urban churches, while paying five 

to ten yen for evangelists in rural provinces.  Considering that ministers in the Korean Methodist Church received twenty to thirty yen a month around that time,  this pay rate 

was slightly below average. However, there were some additional budgets of 300 yen for “special service bonus” (irōhi), 770 yen for “travel” (ryokōhi), and 294 yen for “house 

rent”(yachin). It is not clear how these additional funds were allocated among 35 Korean Congregationalist pastors at that time.  If we assume that the “bonus” fund was equally 

allocated among them, it gave them additional 9 yen a year, making it closer to the average 

pay. In any case, whether the new pay rate was a little higher or lower than their previous 

pay, it must have been a substantial and meaningful compensation for Korean ministers 

who had been financially struggling for long time and lost even their meager income 

sources when they left the mission-dominated Korean Church. 

Assuming that the Korean ministers received more or less the same amount of 

salary in the Congregationalist Church, we can also say that Korean ministers were not enticed by the better salary offered by the Japanese Congregationalist Church alone; they 

also seem to have found other merits in the Japanese Congregationalism besides the decent 

salary. For Korean ministers, one probable merit of joining the Congregationalist Church 

may have been that a major characteristic of the Congregationalist tradition is the rejection 

of central control by a denominational headquarters and respect for the autonomy of each 

local church. This stood in contrast to the Presbyterian and Methodist traditions that placed 

much greater value on a more centralized form of government. In fact, the Congregational Church propagated in Korea that, “The fundamental principle of the [Congregational] 

Church is to include breadth of faith, self-government and self-support; this applies to Korea equally with other parts of the world.” This tradition can be seen in Watase’s 

handling of Korean transfers to the Congregational Church. As mentioned above, when 

Watase conducted a ceremony to receive Korean churches, he does not appear to have had Koreans adopt any particular doctrinal standard. Also, it seems that he ordained Korean 

pastors without mandating them to study again in the Congregational seminary in Japan or 

elsewhere. This kind of administrative looseness would likely have been frowned upon by Presbyterian or Methodist missionaries as neglecting the ecclesiastical traditions of the 

West, yet it could have been seen as a form of religious tolerance or freedom by the Korean Christians who had been subjected by western missionaries to many unfamiliar 

denominational traditions. Such case may apply the case of Kim Chang-ho who objected 

the conservative theology of the Presbyterian Church and sought association with Japanese.   

Another merit of joining the Congregationalist Church could be the fact that the Congregational Mission ignored the territorial divisions established by the western 

missionaries and invited like-minded Korean Christians to come together under the same 

Church organization irrespective of their place of residence. This was a new experience for Korean Christians who had been divided and assigned to different denominations under the 

comity agreement of the Missions. In fact, the major Korean figures in the Congregational Church such as Ch’a Hag-yŏn, Ch’oe Chung-jin and Kim Sang-bae lived in different parts 

of Korea occupied by different missions and could not have become members of the same 

Church if they had stayed in the western missionary jurisdiction. Thus, joining the Congregational Church meant gaining access to an alternative ecclesiastical network 

capable of overcoming the geographical and regional boundaries created by the western 

missions. 

Lastly, the number of Japanese missionaries in Korea was much smaller and far 

less conspicuous than the western missionaries. There were only four Japanese missionaries 

to 120 Korean staff and preachers in the Congregational Mission and the “workers in Korea 

form their own executive body and advance the work according to their own judgment.”  As a result, regardless of whether or not the Japanese were truly willing to give Koreans as 

much freedom as they promised, the tiny Japanese missionary force had no choice but to let Koreans run their churches on their own.  

Whatever their primary motivations may have been, the mass conversion of Korean Christians to the Japanese Congregational Church suggests that missionary-Korean 

power relations began to change with the growing presence of the Japanese empire. 

Tensions between the Korean leaders and the missionaries had long existed, but some Korean Christians after colonization could now use the Japanese Christian presence to 

counter the western missionaries. The frustration of these Korean Christians about 

missionary control was so great that it made sense to them to seek an alliance with the Japanese Church as long as it would bring them greater ecclesiastical autonomy and 

financial aid. This does not mean that the Korean leaders accepted or approved of Japanese 

colonialism, but rather that they strategically relied upon and took advantage of Japanese 

power to counter the western missionaries whom they perceived more as oppressors of the Korean Church. Even if they were critical of Japanese colonialism itself, their struggle for 

ecclesiastical independence from the western Missions held primacy over their desire for 

national independence from the Japanese empire. Simply put, the Korean Congregationalists thought that ecclesiastical independence had to precede national 

independence.  

  

   

 Chapter 7 Korean Intellectual Revolts against Ecclesiastical Authority 

 

Once Korean Christians began to question the legitimacy of missionary rule in the Church, it was a natural consequence that they would also turn a critical eye to the same 

oligarchical rule that missionaries exercised over the Christian schools. As discussed in Chapter 4, the missionaries had maintained the mission schools and church schools mainly 

as subsidiary institutions of the Church to evangelize Koreans and produce Christians rather 

than as independent institutions to provide general education to the broader Korean public. This general policy was increasingly unpopular among Korean Christians, and their 

frustration gradually took the form of open revolt.  

 

Student Strike 

  In 1903, twenty students at Paejae School, the leading Methodist mission school, 

sent a letter of protest to their missionary teachers. The letter stated that they found “the 

religious teaching in the school distasteful and they would leave if it were not 

discontinued.”  Paejae School had accepted both Christian and non-Christian students, but Bible teaching was mandatory as mission policy. It is not clear if the protesters were all 

non-Christians, but in any case the students were dissatisfied with the heavy emphasis on 

religious indoctrination at the school. The missionary teachers informed the students that “they need not bother to withdraw from the school, as their names were already stricken 

from the roll” and dismissed the students without any attempt at conciliation.  These Korean students then surrendered one by one and “made an apology before other students 

in chapel” and “promised to obey implicitly thereafter the rules of the school.”    The first “student strike” at a Korean mission school indicates that many Korean 

students had received religious teaching only reluctantly. Had there been any other schools 

that provided general education without religious teaching, they could have transferred to 

them. In Korea, however, there was no universal education system yet, and given that the 

paucity of schools , the eager Korean youth had no other choice but to choose the mission 

school. Religious teaching was a kind of tax they had to pay in order to acquire new 

knowledge.  

  Although this initial strike was suppressed, Korean frustration over the mission 

school curriculum was omnipresent and continued to grow. In 1907, 400 students at Sungsil High School (Union College) in P’yŏngyang,  run jointly by the Northern Presbyterian 

and Northern Methodist Missions, submitted a list of grievances to their missionary 

teachers and the head of the Methodist Mission, Bishop M. C. Harris (1846-1921) and 

boycotted classes.  Though available sources do not tell exactly what grievances they had, 

the contextual evidence indicates that they were mostly likely to relate to the general 

quality of school teachers and the missionary prohibition of student engagements in politics. Regarding teachers, William Baird (NP), the principle of the school, had noted his fear that “our Christian schools cannot continue to exist in the face of Japanese schools which may 

be established here…I believe this fear is well founded if we continue to transfer capable 

men [teachers] to other positions” and “our schools are poorly manned with teachers who 

are ill-trained,”  indicating dearth of qualified teachers demoralized schools. On politics, the summer in 1907 was the time when the Korean Emperor, Kojong, was forced to 

abdicate by the Japanese government and political air was tense. However, Baird’s firm 

policy was to “keep the students away from political issues” and he “monitored” the student 

orations in school events so that the topics would be religious.  Given that Barid’s annual 

report for that year mentions his added “anxiety” that “political and social motives are 

cooperating with educational and religious” outcome in the school, it is likely that students 

made some kind of requests on the current political issues.  

  Whatever the real reason might be, missionary teachers paid no serious heed to this 

protest and ordered the students to immediately return to school. Missionary power 

prevailed, and many students gave up their demands. Having pacified these Korean 

students, Arthur Becker (NM) reported to the Methodist Board that “they had learned that 

they were not running the school and we had peace for the rest of the year.”  

In 1909, Paejae experienced another student strike in which 140 students 

participated and “paralyzed” the school for a few days. Though the missionary record does 

not detail what the student demands were, it was likely that the students were still 

dissatisfied over religious indoctrination. This time students “marched out in a body” and some students transferred to other schools when their demand was not met. According to D.A. Bunker (NM), the missionary teacher at Paejae, such “outbursts of passion on the part 

of the students” had been common among other mission schools by that time and it came “periodically to all schools in this land.”  In spite of such circumstances, the Missions 

made little effort to seek conciliation with Korean students and fiercely maintained their 

commitment to religious education.  

 

An Ch’ang-ho and Taesŏng School 

  For some Korean Christian leaders, the mission school problem was not limited to 

religious education alone. They were fully aware that the mission schools were no different 

from the churches where missionaries presided over important business and suppressed Korean voices that conflicted with missionary decisions. Such subordinate Korean status in 

mission schools was growingly unbearable for independent-minded Christian educators and 

they thus began to seek opportunities to establish their own schools outside missionary 

jurisdiction. Just as some Korean ministers broke their ties with the Missions to gain more 

freedom, some Korean Christian educators also followed the same path. 

  One such Korean educator was An Ch’ang-ho, who studied in the Presbyterian 

school in Seoul in the 1890s and became a Christian (Chapter 4). By the 1900s, however, An was known to be one of the leading Korean nationalists rather than a church leader. He 

had taken an active part in the so-called Patriotic Enlightenment Movement (aeguk 

kyemong undong), which aimed at Korean self-strengthening through modern education 

and organized a Korean youth group, called Sinminhoe, (New People’s Association) 

through which he promoted nationalist thought among the Korean youth. He vigorously 

toured around Korea and inspired many students with his eloquent speech and charismatic 

leadership.  

       As a part of his nationalist project, he founded Taesŏng School in his hometown, P’yŏngyang, in 1908, with Yun Ch’i-ho at its official head.  His vision was to make the 

school the center of nationalist education in Korea. However, despite the fact that both An 

and Yun were Christians, An did not make Taesŏng a Christian school and kept its doors 

open to anyone who wanted to study. According to his wife, An was dissatisfied with 

missionaries who “taught only about the otherworld” and wanted to disseminate education that placed science at its center.  Clearly, his intention was to provide an alternative form 

of education for the Korean youth and foster nationalism among them, something not 

possible in the mission school. Had he been a “devout” Christian loyal to Church authority, 

he could have collaborated with the Sungsil School in P’yŏngyang, where many Christian 

students gathered, but he dared to maintain a school independent of the Church and the Mission in the same city.  

Knowing An’s intention, the missionaries in Pyŏngyang all turned against him and 

saw him more as a threat to the Church engrossed in national politics against the church 

rule. In fact, when Japanese police interviewed Samuel Moffett (NP), the leader of the Presbyterians in Pyŏngyang, about An and his relation to the Church, Moffett made no 

defense for him. 

 

An Ch’ang-ho used to be a Christian adherent in our Presbyterian Church and had taken a part in evangelism. But, he is now engaged in his educational work and provides no sincere support for the Church. He always seeks to use education as a means of politics.    

 

Arthur Becker (NM), the head of the Methodist teachers at Sungsil, endorsed Moffett’s 

view to the Japanese and did not hide his animosity against An: “An Ch’angho was not 

only anti-Japanese but anti-foreign. I guess he intends to expel all foreigners.”  The 

missionaries were well aware that An’s nationalist activities would bring negative 

consequences to the Church and the Mission. On the one hand, his former affiliation with 

the Church could mislead the Japanese into identifying the Korean Church with 

anti-Japanese institutions and invite unnecessary persecution. On the other, An’s nationalist 

propaganda could lead Koreans to seek control of the Church and the schools, where 

foreign domination by the Missions was conspicuous. Therefore, as a Christian nationalist, 

if An could be labeled as such, he was a most unwelcome presence for the missionaries and 

there was no room for him in the Korean Church and the schools under missionary 

jurisdiction.  

 

Yi Sŭng-hun and Yi Kwang-su in Osan School 

  The missionary’s control over Christian education also became an issue at Osan, a 

private school in Chŏngju, north of P’yŏngyang. In conventional Korean historiography, Osan is today known as a “nationalist school founded upon Christian ideals” along with Taesŏng School.  However, the founder of the school, Yi Sŭng-hun (1864-1930) was not 

a Christian at the time of its foundation. Yi was originally a peddler of brassware, whose 

business network covered the entire P’yŏngan Province. As the Japanese colonial presence 

increasingly encroached upon Korean sovereignty, Yi joined the Patriotic Enlightenment Movement and met An Ch’angho, who urged him of the need of modern education for Korea’s national empowerment.   Greatly inspired, Yi decided to invest his business 

fortune to build Osan School in his hometown of Chŏngju in 1907.   

Yi subsequently converted to Christianity in 1910 immediately following Korea’s 

colonization, when he happened to hear an impressive sermon by Han Sŏk-chin.  It is 

said that he found in Christianity a new hope for national rejuvenation and salvation, 

though there is no documentary evidence of this.  However, what is known is that Han was one of few ordained Korean pastors who was critical of missionary rule over the Korean church and thus invited by Myodŏng Church in 1909, the church that was founded 

by the anti-missionary yangban dissenters (Chapter 6).  Thus, if Yi’s conversion was 

truly brought about by Han Sŏk-chin, it was likely that his anti-missionary attitude 

impressed Yi.  

Upon conversion, Yi established a chapel in his Osan School, but invited S. L. Roberts (1881-1946, NP) to administer the church and the school.  This decision meant 

that these institutions came under the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the Northern Presbyterian Mission that controlled Chŏngju and its vicinity as its exclusive mission 

territory. Considering Yi’s nationalist orientation, it is not clear why he placed a missionary 

as Osan’s school principal, if only nominally, but his disciples explain that the missionary 

presence was necessary as a buffer against Japanese intervention.  If so, Yi was a 

nationalist, but also a realist, and did not hesitate to take advantage of western power to 

check Japanese colonialism. 

In any case, Yi’s involvement in nationalist education campaign invited Japanese 

attention and he was soon imprisoned by the Japanese police for conspiring to assassinate 

the Japanese Governor-General, the so-called “Conspiracy Case” or “105-in Sakŏn” in Korean, and vacated the school office until 1915 (discussed in detail in Chapter 8).  Hence, despite his vision to make Osan school in a center of nationalist education, the 

school was quickly Christianized rather than nationalized under missionary supervision in 

his absence.   

This drastic change in school management from being run by a Korean nationalist 

to the Presbyterian Mission meant that the school now had to conform to Presbyterian 

school policy, which prioritized evangelization over intellectual enlightenment. This change 

clearly narrowed the educational spectrum and placed Korean nationalist teachers who 

would not agree with the policy in a difficult situation. A typical example was Yi Kwang-su, 

who taught at the school from 1911 to 1914, and later became a prominent writer, often 

referred to as the founding father of modern Korean literature.  

Yi Kwang-su was a native from Chŏngju and had experience studying at Meiji 

Gakuin High School, a Presbyterian mission school in Tokyo, from 1905-1909, which was quite a rare and prestigious accomplishment among the Korean youth at that time. When Korean sovereignty was lost, his patriotism brought him back to Korea to promote the 

educational cause for the future of Korea. His student career and nationalism as well as his 

regional background as a Chŏngju native were greatly appreciated by Yi Sŭng-hun, who 

invited him to teach at Osan School despite his young age of nineteen years.  

       As a young, intelligent, and critical thinker, Yi Kwang-su did not embrace the 

Presbyterian dogmatism imposed upon the church and the school. He was a faithful to the Christian cause and a catechumenate (baptismal candidate) who would even make 

occasional preaching in the church when asked, but he disagreed with conservative Presbyterian theology and could not compromise his intellectual honesty to embrace a 

literal understanding of the Bible or accept at face value traditional creeds such as the 

Virgin Birth and Resurrection. Thus, every time the missionary, S. L. Roberts, visited Chŏngju Church in itineration and examined his faith as a baptismal candidate, Yi declined 

to comply with the catechumenal standard and confessed his honest doubt about the traditional doctrines. Consequently, he had been left unbaptized and his admission to 

church membership was rejected.425 

  Yi’s intellectual honesty soon faced a series of personal attacks from the church Elders, who mobilized the religiously genuine Christian students and their parents to press 

him to leave the school. They labeled him a “Tolstoyan” for his critical attitude toward the 

Church and condemned his beliefs as “heresy.”426 The Tolstoyans rejected the divinity of 

Christ, setting aside the miraculous in the Gospels as well as the doctrines of an orthodox Church such as the Atonement, the Resurrection, the Trinity, but believed Jesus as a man's 

greatest good who fulfilled God’s will, and tried to pursue a life in simplicity and love.427.  It is not clear whether Yi self-identified as a Tolstoyan, but his rejection of 

orthodox doctrine became associated with Tolstoyanism and appeared as a threat to Presbyterian missionaries who wanted to make the Korean Church into a bulwark of 

orthodox Presbyterianism. Yi Kwang-su was gradually cornered by orthodox Christians and 

                                                   

425

 Yi Kwang-su, "Na ŭi kyowŏn saenghwal," in Namgang Yi Sŭnghun kwa minjok undong, ed. Namgang munhwa chaedan (Namgang munhwa chaedan ch’ulp’anbu, 1988),552. This article was first published as a serial novel on Chosŏn Ilbo from 1936 to 1937. Though the names of the protagonists, schools, and places were all written in pseudonym, showing only the initial letter of the real names, the scholars have identified most names and they generally agree that the story could represents Yi’s real experience at Osan School.  

426

 Ibid., 550. 427

 For a good summary of Tolstoyanism, see The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church 

(Oxford University Press, 2005), s.v. "Tolstoy, Leo." 

the missionaries and decided to leave the school, which remained in his heart as an 

inerasable trauma. His departure from Osan marked the end of his institutional connection 

with the Korean Church.  

 

Yi Kwan-su’s Response to the Church 

Deeply hurt, Yi moved to Seoul and started a new career as a writer for an 

intellectual journal, Ch’ŏngch’un (Youth), the only one of its kind published in Korea. 

Ch’ŏngch’un was edited by Ch’oe Nam-sŏn (1890-1957), a young nationalist scholar and 

educator, who had invited Yi to work with him. Now having a public medium in which to 

express his thoughts, Yi vigorously wrote critiques on various contemporary social issues in Korea, including the problems of the Korean Church, and publicized his frank views of the 

Korean Church to inform Koreans of what was wrong with it. In his article, “Defects of the 

Korean Church Today,” he diagnosed the various ills of the Korean Church.   

 First, Yi criticized the hierarchical relationship between the church leaders and 

lay believers, pointing out that “the Korean Church of today is organized on the caste system.”  He observed that “the relation between pastors or elders and the lay believers is 

something like that between rulers and subjects, seniors and juniors, teachers and disciples” 

and that “Pastors and elders may almost be called Yangbans while the lay members are Sangnoms (men of low-class).”  Therefore, he lamented that, “To be a church officer in 

the Korean Church is regarded as possessing the honor and power which the holders of 

secular offices used to have,” concluding that, “Christianity, the religion of equality itself, 

seems powerless to unsettle this idea of caste.”  

  Second, Yi denounced the Korean Church’s disrespect for the secular world, a 

vanity that was underpinned by excessive religious pietism. He observed that the Korean Church still held to the “doctrine of ecclesiastical supremacy,” which he explained as the 

conviction that “the Church… must rule mankind in everything” and that “faith in religion 

is the whole duty of man.”  As a consequence, Korean Christians came to look down on “non-Christian [as] belonging to an entirely different species… and not to be trusted,” to 

forbid “intermarriage with non-Christians,” and even discouraged even social intercourse with them.  Moreover, their disregard for secular society that led them to “treat learning 

with the greatest contempt, calling it “worldly knowledge,” and took it “as a temptation of 

the devil and an enemy of the soul.” Therefore, in Korea, he concluded, “those who desire 

to acquire an education higher than that of a special school, or to go abroad for study, are 

considered to have already stepped inside the gates of hell.”   

  Third, Yi pointed out that this general disregard for secular knowledge naturally 

resulted in the “ignorance of the church workers.”  He urged that “A preacher be 

furnished, at the least, with a knowledge of Christian theology, of philosophy ancient and 

modern, and religious literature” and “something of the great principles of modern 

philosophy and of the spirit of science so that he may understand the spirit of modern 

civilization, the source of modern thoughts, the relation between modern civilization and 

religion,” but such preachers had been scarcely produced in the Korean Church because the Examination Committee of the Presbyterian Church “consists mostly of uneducated old 

men who are incapable of judging the character and ability of a man,” and “the most successful candidates are those who assent to everything the Committee says--- who are, in 

short, as superstitious, as ignorant and as unthinking, as the Committee.”  

  Lastly, Yi denounced the western missionary’s use of conversion tactics that took 

advantage of the ignorance of the Korean people. He observed that “old superstitions, such 

as the doctrines of heaven and hell, of resurrection, of the omnipotence of prayer, etc., have 

been utilized to save the ignorant multitude from sin” in Korea and “rather than reason and 

contemplation, superstitious belief has been recommended, encouraging them to trust 

blindly in the mystical merits of ritualism --- like baptism, worship, and prayer.” As a result, “In Korean churches, as well as in Christian homes, prayers are offered for personal 

benefits such as “recovery from sickness” and “the birth of sons.”  

  Needless to say, all of Yi’s points touched precisely upon the major problems of 

the Korean Church, which we have dealt with so far, and they were drawn from his 

personal experiences and observations in the Church, especially, from his days at Osan 

School, where he was attacked and ousted by the Church authorities. The problems of the Korean Church as he diagnosed them were not unknown among Korean intellectuals at that 

time, but few had dared to publicize such critical views and provoke Korean Christian leaders and the missionaries who stood behind them. Thus, Yi’s final remark in the article 

that “the educated classes of today are not satisfied with the kind of Christianity we have 

now”  carries a profound historical significance as the first powerful intellectual 

challenge against the Korean Church and the Missions.  

  Yun Ch’i-ho was one of the Korean Christian intellectuals who understood the 

historical significance of Yi’s article. Though he did not agree with everything what Yi said, Yun nevertheless felt the need of informing the missionaries of this article so that they 

would be aware of the intellectual trend among the educated Korean youth. Thus, Yun 

translated Yi’s article and had it appear in the Korean Mission Field, a monthly missionary 

journal, under the joint editorship of the Korea missionaries. In his introductory remarks, Yun made clear that as a practicing Christian, he would not take Yi Kwang-su’s side, 

commenting that “as is common to many young men of talent in certain periods of their 

lives, he is inclined to be destructive in his criticisms.” However, Yun continued, “however 

incorrect some of the opinions seem to be, they are worthy of serious consideration as they, 

in a way, represent the mental attitude of a large class of young men toward Christianity in Korea today.”  In Yun’s eyes, it was clear that young Korean intellectuals of a nationalist 

mindset were already withdrawing from the mission-dominated and anti-intellectual 

Korean Church. Yun thus took Yi’s critique as a serious warning and challenge to the Korean Church and urged the missionaries to be prepared for the intellectual sophistication 

of the Korean youth who he thought would soon subvert the missionary’s sway over the Korean Christian. 

   

Japanese Educational Ordinance 

  The Korean Church and mission schools in the 1910s faced another important 

challenge; the 1911 Educational Ordinance issued by the Korean Government-General. The Ordinance declared that the purpose of public education was to make “good and loyal Japanese subjects” of Koreans and thus ordered all schools whether government or private 

to conform to the rules and regulations stipulated by the Ordinance. One of the new rules 

was to prohibit teaching religion as a required subject in middle schools and above. This 

meant that missionaries could no longer mandate Koreans to study the Bible in their 

schools, though they were free to study it outside the schools under private teachers, or at special institutes such as Sunday school, seminaries and churches.  Another possibility 

was for the missionaries to continue their religious teaching in schools without receiving 

governmental recognition as “middle-schools,” but graduates of a non-recognized school 

had no qualifications with which to proceed to higher schools such as professional schools 

and colleges. The Japanese authority gave a ten-year grace period to the mission schools to 

decide whether they would conform to Japanese standards and receive recognition as 

“middle-schools” or remain non-recognized and shut down at the end of the tenth year.    The missionaries were generally opposed to the Japanese ordinance. They saw it as 

a violation of freedom of religion and asked the government to modify the rule. They 

thought that the Japanese demand to separate religion from schools was too extreme and 

ruinous to the very purpose of Christian education. They were also upset by other 

regulations in the Ordinance, which prescribed details such as “certain building 

requirements, grounds of a certain size, athletic and scientific and other school furnishings, 

and equipment of specified design and quantity.”  The opposition was particularly strong 

among older missionaries in Korea who had faced “very little interference from the Korean Government” due to their extraterritorial status and “developed schools and were 

conducting them in accordance with their own educational ideals.”  Thus, it was natural, 

as one young missionary observed, that “many of them looked upon the Japanese as 

interlopers, who were coming in to destroy or seriously hamper the work to which they had 

given years of labor… and which they regarded as vital to the well-being and progress of 

the Korean Christian Movement.”  In short, the Japanese authority appeared to these 

missionaries as a formidable rival in the educational sphere where they competed over the 

souls and minds of young Koreans. 

  Nonetheless, the extraterritorial status of the missionaries ceased with the 

colonization of Korea by Japan and the U.S. government had fully acknowledged that 

United States citizens were subject to the Japanese jurisdiction in Korea.445 Thus, the Japanese colonial government did not concede its controlling power over Korean education 

and turned down repeated petitions by the Missions to modify the Ordinance. Having 

exhausted all their resources and realizing their powerlessness to counter Japanese colonial 

authority, divisions of opinion surfaced among the missionaries. The division occurred along denominational lines, though there were divergent views among individuals. The Methodist Mission decided to conform to the Japanese Ordinance and sought governmental 

recognition, while the Presbyterians declined to do so. The Methodist missionaries made 

additional investment in the Paejae School in Seoul to improve both faculty and facilities, 

and revised the curriculum to make religion optional. Soon, the Japanese granted the due 

recognition to Paejae as a “higher common school” (kodŭng pot’ong hakkyo), the first 

Korean mission school that could stand on par with Japanese middle-schools.  Other Methodist mission schools followed suit at varying intervals from the 1910s through 1920s 

and 30s. This does not mean, however, that they ceased to exist as Christian schools. Even 

though they did not mandate Bible study in school, they would hold chapel exercises 

outside the school building or at a nearby church, or they would hold voluntary Bible 

classes arranged for afternoons and evenings, so that they could keep their religious 

identities.   

  On the other hand, the Presbyterian Mission took a completely opposite path. Presbyterian missionaries, who consisted mainly of theological conservatives, held that the 

missionary school was a place for religious indoctrination. As we saw in Chapter 4, the Presbyterian Mission did not place priority upon education and believed that the primary 

aim of school was to adopt children from Christian families and nurture them to serve the Church. Thus, they did not hesitate to shut down schools once it became clear that they 

could no longer use schools for religious aims. Accordingly, the Presbyterians chose to 

remain as non-recognized schools and to withdraw from the educational field after ten 

years, when their schools were no longer allowed to operate by the government. Some 

schools, such as one Presbyterian school (SP) in Sunch’ŏn, South Chŏlla Province and a Girls’ Academy (NP) in Sinch’ŏn, P’yŏngan Province were closed immediately or reduced 

in size and grade, without waiting for the end of the ten-year grace period. Other local 

schools under the Korean Church followed suit as they were also under direct or indirect 

missionary control, and some schools were shut down “either on the account of the 

religious exclusion article or on account of some of the other provisions by which the 

standards were raised to a level which they could not reach.”   

  The majority of Presbyterian schools that remained as non-recognized schools 

were able to protect their rights to provide religious education. However, they made no 

systematic improvement in terms of faculty, facility, and curriculum as they did not seek governmental recognition under the Ordinance. Consequently, these non-recognized 

schools could not match the recognized schools in terms of their educational appeal to the Korean youth who wanted a better learning environment and the qualification to proceed to 

higher schools. The widening gap between these two kinds of school posed a serious 

dilemma to intellectual Korean Christians, who had to choose either the religious but 

lower-grade school or secular but higher-grade school for their children. Yun Ch’i-ho was 

one such Korean Christian.   

 

Yun Ch’i-ho’s Concern 

As a Christian intellectual and a nationalist, Yun’s life work was to raise the 

educational standard of the Korean youth. He had thus been involved in both Christian and 

secular educational projects. Not only had he helped An Ch’ang-ho build Taesŏng school, 

but he also donated his private fund to found the first Southern Methodist School in Kaesŏng (Han-Yŏng Hag-wŏn or Anglo-Korean School), where he served in the school 

board along with the missionaries.  He also played an active part in the Y. M. C. A. 

where he led various educational projects for the Korean youth.  

In this way, he did not limit his field only within his denominational Church circle, 

but he remained personally loyal to his denominational identity, sending his daughter to a Southern Methodist school, Paehwa Girls’ School, in Seoul. Nonetheless, watching his 

daughter’s progress, Yun soon noticed that the educational quality at the mission school 

was far from satisfactory and began to wonder if he should withdraw her from a school he 

had come to consider as defective.  

 

I am thinking seriously about taking Munhŭi [Yun’s daughter] out of the 

Pai Hwa (sic) school and sending her to the governmental Higher School [kwallip pot’ong hakkyo]. She has been going to the former school for the last three years and hasn't learned hardly anything in Chinese or Japanese. Can I afford, is it right for me, to sacrifice the education of my precious children to the mere sentiment―of keeping or sending my children to the Church schools when the Church schools, thanks to the obstinacy of missionaries, are the poorest of their kind?   

 

Within a few days, Yun reached the conclusion that the Japanese Higher School was the 

best choice for his precious daughter. Though he “regret[ed] very much the necessity for 

withdrawing Munhŭi from my [his] own church school,” he believed that he had no choice 

in the situation where “the missionaries, with the very best intentions in the world ruin the 

schools.” He pointed the specific missionary offenses as follows: 1) “employing only the cheapest grade of teachers ￥11 to 12 for girl-teachers”, 2) not discussing with “the 

Koreans who have great interest in the school and who ought to know what is good for the Korean, better than a missionary; 3) “by not adopting method and curricula to the needs and 

conditions of the Korean children.” Yet, the fundamental problem for Yun was that “The 

missionaries despise Koreans too much if not in so many words, nonetheless, in so many 

acts.  Here, Yun’s observation concurs what we have seen thus far. The missionaries had 

an absolute power over school management and imposed what they wanted to teach on the Koreans, without consulting and adapting to Korean needs and circumstances.  

Such neglect of Korean agency was nothing new in the mission school, but the 

new development after the Japanese Annexation is that that disillusioned Korean Christians, 

especially of intellectual class, began to turn to Japanese educational institutions. As the 

overbearing missionaries in the Korean Church lost many independent-minded Korean 

church leaders to the Japanese Congregationalist Church, they also started losing the best Korean Christian intellectuals and their children from their mission schools.  

  In fact, such a trend was prevailing on a nationwide scale. Wherever there was an 

opportunity, the majority of Korean students preferred to go to government schools and did not seek education at Christian schools, which often required them to maintain Church 

affiliations. As the Methodist Mission reported in 1914, “the Korean students in the higher 

common schools in Seoul … all speak Japanese and are not being touched in any large way 

by the Korean churches” and “the Korean children in the public schools throughout the 

country are mostly from the so-called heathen homes and are not in the present Sunday 

schools.”  In other words, Christian schools at large were the second choice for many Koreans, and as long as they could afford public education, there was no need for them to 

maintain affiliations with schools under ecclesiastical jurisdiction. The public education 

system, even if it was under Japanese control, began overwhelming the Christian schools in 

quality and popularity already in the 1910s.  

  Nonetheless, it is important to note that there was always a constant lack of public 

schools for the increasing number of Korean children of school age, and a universal 

education system was not fully established until the end of the Japanese colonial rule. Therefore, Christian school could hold strong merit as a substitute for public schools and 

continued to appeal to those who had no access to public education. The problem is that the 

Christian schools were mostly elementary grade and there were only a few schools that provided middle school education or above. Therefore, the numerical growth of enrollment 

at Christian schools did not contribute to a remarkable rise of educational standards among 

the Korean Christians. This is evidenced by the fact that the popular image of the Korean Christian was still the man of little means and the Korean Church was often ridiculed by 

non-Christians as “the Society of the Impoverished” or “the Society of the Ignorant” even 

in the mid-1910s.  In short, the Korean Christian schools as well as the Church were not 

venues where young and intellectual Koreans were willing to come and work together for 

national salvation through education.  

 

Y. M. C.A. as a Nationalist Center 

  An alternative venue for educated Koreans to work for the national cause was the Young Men’s Christian Association (Y.M.C.A.). The Korean branch of this international 

organization was established in Seoul in 1903 and quickly developed as the most popular 

youth organization.   Under Japanese colonial administration, where Korean civil 

liberties were limited, the Y.M.C.A. was one of few civil organizations where Koreans 

could gather and operate various social programs such as speech contests, chorus, and 

athletic games.455 Yet, the Y.M.C.A. was not a Korean institution. Like the Korean Church 

and mission schools, the Korean Y.M.C.A. was funded in large part by foreign sources. It 

was headed by a foreign director, P. L. Gillett, dispatched by the Y.M.C.A. in the United States and its Board members included many foreign missionaries and even Japanese.456 In 

fact, it had received regular support from Japanese affiliates, one of whom was none other 

than Itō Hirobumi, the Japanese Resident-General. Itō made a generous donation of 10,000 

yen a year for several years during his office.457 

         The Y.M.C.A. was a so-called “para-church” organization, where Christians 

were supposed to cooperate ecumenically in the interests of social advancement. It could 

thereby avoid ecclesiastical control by a particular Church or Mission. Therefore, there was 

no religious requirement for its members, let alone the catechumenal test to check their 

reception of the traditional Christian dogmas. This was a great attraction to many Koreans 

who simply wanted an institution where they could carry out their social and political 

programs without the ecclesiastical supervision. 

                                                   

455

 Ibid., 174-190. 

456

 Ibid.,79. 457

 Kiyoshi Nakarai, Relations Between the Government and Christianity in Chosen (Keijo: 

Government-General of Chosen, 1921), 6. 

  In fact, many Korean Christian intellectuals who collided with the Church and the Mission flocked to the Korean Y.M.C.A. and made it the center of their socio-political 

agenda. The best example was Yi Sang-jae, one of the prominent “converts in prison.” Yi 

was a high-class yangban who became a Christian in 1903, while he was imprisoned as a 

former member of the defunct Independence Club.  He began attending the Presbyterian Yŏndong Church but soon found that the apolitical attitude of the church and the 

missionary did not suit him.  Hence, even though he was elected as Elder, he declined 

church office, choosing to devote more energy to the Y.M.C.A. as the better place for 

educating Korean youth.  Likewise, Yun Ch’i-ho also declined to assume any church 

office, though he regularly attended Sunday service at the Chonggyo Church in Seoul. Instead, he was more active in the Y.M.C.A. and served as a Y.M.C.A. Secretary for many 

years. Sin Hŭng-u (1883-1959), who succeeded Yun’s secretaryship of the Y.M.C.A. was a Northern Methodist, with a degree from Southern California University, which was rare 

among Korean Christians in those days. Yet, this intellectual figure also did not become a 

minister but made Paejae School and Y.M.C.A. as his major field, though he often attended the Methodist and other Christian conferences in Korea and abroad as a Korean 

representative.  Beside, another yangban convert in prison, Kim Chŏng-sik, who joined 

the Japanese Congregationalist Church was also active Y.M.C.A. member as shown in Chapter 6. Among the younger leaders, Pak Hŭi-do (1889-1951) deserves note.  Pak 

graduated Sŭngsil High school and received his professional training in the Methodist 

seminary in Seoul and became an ordained minister, but he was also active in the Y.M.C.A. 

and served as its officer.   

On the other hand, the Y.M.C.A. was also seen with much caution by the 

conservative missionaries because they knew that many Korean Christians wanted to join it 

in order to escape from their control. Anna Nisbet (1867-1920, SP) testifies her sense of 

disgust when she saw the Y.M.C.A. drawing many unchristian-like Koreans.  

 

The great objection to the church has always been the unpleasant insistence upon repentance and putting away certain sinful habits; but a new condition arose. The Y.M.C.A. had been founded in Seoul, and soon after, the Epworth League, in the Methodist Church, both of which had the customary provision for associate membership. The report now spread rapidly that one could belong to the church without the objectionable features, such as believing on Jesus and forsaking sin. As a result, the YMCA and Epworth League spread like wild fire among non-Christian villages, using their names, constitution, and by-laws until prohibited by the respective organizations.   

 

As seen in Chapter 5, Epworth League actually became an organizing site for anti-Japanese 

movement and was thus dissolved by the Methodist Mission.  

There were some liberal missionaries such as Horace. H. Underwood (NP), the son 

of H. G. Underwood, who showed a more understanding attitude toward Korean Christians and recognized the social significance of the Y.M.C.A. in the specific Korean 

colonial context.  

 

In some quarters the whole movement is regarded as purely political, and still others regard the associations as mere social clubs lacking the restraints of Christianity or any religion, and more evil than good…  In our much-organized society, with its countless lodges, and clubs and associations of every conceivable sort this simple association seems of little import. But in Korea their very organization and development on native initiative is a sign of the times, and once organized and functioning they have untold potentialities in the direct and indirect education of the people.  

 

Here we can see more clearly why the Y.M.C.A. continued to be the center of various 

socio-political movements during the colonial period, including that of the nationalist 

movement. Unlike the Epworth League, which was suppressed by the Methodist Mission, 

the Y.M.C.A. was international organization independent of any denominational Missions 

or Churches and could not be dissolved singlehandedly by such ecclesiastical authorities. Thus, it continued to attract many political activists who had loose or no affiliations with 

the Church. In other words, from its inception, the Y.M.C.A. had an institutional character 

that would entice socio-politically ambitious Koreans who were inclined to neglect the 

authority of the Church and the Mission and preferred to act as independent individuals. It 

was the only social venue where Korean intellectuals could balance between Christian faith 

or ideals with their nationalist aspiration and turn them into more visible actions. And, thus 

it could become one of the centers of the March First Movement, which we will discuss in 

the next chapter.  

 

   

   

Chapter 8 Korean Church and Independence Movement 

 

 

In the previous chapters, we have observed that the Korean Christians were 

divided into two groups over their different attitude toward the mission-dominated Korean 

church and Christian schools. On one hand there was a majority consisting of those who 

accepted the existing framework of a missionary dominated Church and derived various 

advantages from it such as foreign protection, access to education as well as religious 

consolation. On the other hand, there was a minority group that consisted of high-class 

yangbans and intellectuals, who subscribed to the Christian faith and its ideals, but tended 

to distance themselves from the Church in order to avoid missionary control.    This division within Korean Christianity has been largely suppressed by the 

nationalist framework in the conventional historiography. As a result, any incident of 

national significance that involved Christians has been largely reduced to the achievement 

of the Korean Church. This chapter looks into two of such cases, namely, the “Conspiracy 

Case” [105-in sakŏn] in 1911 and the “March First Movement” in 1919, and analyzes how much Christian involvement was actually there and, if any, how much we can attribute it to 

the merit of the Korean Church.  

 

Conspiracy Case Trial 

In 1911, the Japanese police made a series of arrests of over hundreds of Koreans 

for the charge of conspiring to assassinate the Japanese Governor-General Terauchi 

Masatake. Of these, 123 men were formally prosecuted and 105 men were convicted in the Seoul court.  The Japanese prosecutors claimed that these Koreans had formed a secret 

society, “New People’s Association” (sinminhoe), and plotted to kill the Governor with the 

assistance of the foreign missionaries when he toured the north the previous year.  

Among the 123 prosecuted, 94 were Protestant Christians, including noted figures such as 

Yun Ch’i-ho and Yi Sŭng-hun, while only two were Catholics.   

If these Christians involved in the “Conspiracy Case” had truly conspired to 

launch such a violent attack on their Japanese ruler, their actions would prove the 

prevalence of anti-Japanese nationalism among Korean Christians at that time. However, the series of court trials revealed that that these Christians were tortured by the Japanese to 

make a false confession. The missionaries were also convinced of the innocence of the Korean Christians and furious with the Japanese for torturing Koreans to make false 

confessions that some missionaries masterminded the conspiracy behind Koreans.  Therefore, as Arthur Brown, the secretary of the Presbyterian mission, stated, “many Japanese, as well as practically all foreign observers, realized that the “conspiracy” had 

been manufactured out of the imaginations of hostile and overzealous police” and the 

missionaries pressed the Japanese government to give them a fair trial.  Eventually, this 

court case ended up acquitting most of the Korean defendants except for six individuals 

considered to be the masterminds of the alleged plot, who were also released by a Japanese 

amnesty after a couple of years in prison.  The “Conspiracy Case” actually proved the 

absence of the alleged conspiracy, even if the Japanese authority did not admit it officially.  

Among the six people who received guilty sentences were Yun Ch’i-ho and Yi Sŭng-hun. While Yun and Yi repeatedly testified that they had made false confessions under 

Japanese duress, they were not released, while others who provided the same defense were. 

Simply put, the Japanese needed to give them a guilty sentence as a general warning to the Korean Christians, who they thought were involved in nationalist politics, if not alleged 

conspiracy. Here, it is worth recalling that Yun and Yi were active in nationalist education at 

that time. Yun worked with another nationalist leader, An Ch’ang-ho, and headed a new 

nationalist school, Taesŏng School, in Pyŏngyang, while Yi was inspired by An and 

founded Osan School in his hometown, Chŏngju, to promote the Korean nationalist cause 

among the youth (Chapter 6). So, the Japanese accusation of their ringleaders of the 

conspiracy was completely groundless and a Japanese fabrication, their nationalist 

reputation was real. 

Nonetheless, it would be a mistake to make their activities, which were all 

undertaken outside ecclesiastical institutions, into nationalist credentials for the Korean Church. Their schools aimed at nationalist education rather than religious education and 

such school was not tolerated in the mission-dominated Korean Church where religious 

devotion was prioritized over national education. Moreover, Yi Sŭng-hun converted to Christianity only after a year before the Conspiracy case, and it was only after his 

imprisonment that he became more religious, having read the Bible many times in 

prison.  In any case, what is clear is that he had no influential position in the Korean Church at the time of the Conspiracy Case. Similarly, Yun was a prominent Christian 

intellectual, but he also had no church office at that time and desired to be free from 

missionary control. In fact, he had long believed that working as a pastor under an 

overbearing missionary was the most humiliating thing he could think of and intentionally 

declined to take church office despite his commitment to the Christian faith. 

 

To me the prejudices of heathen unbelievers seem less unbearable than the unintentional but the matter-of-fact "bossism" of missionary superiors. Once become a "native preacher," I would have to surrender to a missionary not only my time and service but my freedom of opinion and of conscience as well, compelled to preach the doctrines and dogmas of the Mission whether I believed in them or not. I can hardly imagine a situation more degrading or more painful than that in which one has to preach the sacred doctrines of religion not necessarily through conviction but under a sort of pious compulsion.     

 

In short, Yun and Yi were Christians but they were in no position to represent the Korean Church, from which their nationalist activities received no institutional support.  

In this sense, Japanese were completely mistaken when they identified these men 

as Korean Church leaders. They failed to note the widening schism between the minority of nationalist Christians with the majority of apolitical Christians who were loyal to Church 

authority. The Japanese colonial government’s false identification of the Korean Church 

with the anti-Japanese movement also led them to pay special attention to the northern 

region of Korea where the Christian population was heavily concentrated. In fact, An Ch’ang-ho and Yi Sŭng-hun were northerners from P’yŏngan Province and the Japanese 

police arrested many of their friends and associates in the north, thus making northerners 

the majority of the prosecuted in the Conspiracy trial, 118 out of 123,  though none of 

them had anything to do with the fabricated conspiracy.  

The Japanese false arrest of a number of northern Christians left one unexpected 

result: a strong regional memory of oppression. Those northerners were not only arrested 

without evidence but also imprisoned and tortured to make false confession before they 

were released. Thus, this collective experience was enough to convince the northern Christians of the injustice of Japanese rule and left a long-lasting feeling of resentment that 

would resurface later at the time of the March First Movement.  

 

The March First Movement 

Like the “Conspiracy Case,” the “Christian” element in the March First Movement 

in 1919 has been stressed in the previous studies. It has been claimed that the Korean Church produced 16 out of 33 signatories of the famous “Declaration of Independence,” 

who were Christians, and also mobilized many Christians who actively participated in 

street demonstrations, shouting “manse” (Long Live Korea) for Korean Independence.  

Thus, the Movement has been regarded as the single most important manifestation of Korean Christian nationalism.  However, in order to verify the conventional 

interpretation, we need to qualify who among the Christians took actual leadership in the Movement and how much they represented the Korean Church, keeping in mind the 

internal division within Korean Christianity described in earlier chapters. In so doing, we 

will be able to render a fairer judgment on the relationship between the Korean Church and 

the nationalist movement. 

  , 

Yi Kwang-su and the Korean Student Movement in Tokyo  

  The scholarship on the March First Movement commonly refers to a so-called 

“Wilsonian Boom” in which Korean intellectuals were inspired by the idea of the “national 

self-determination” and took it as their opportunity to raise their voice to the world, as the 

major backdrop of the movement.  To this end, some Korean nationalists both within and 

without Korea planned to send delegations to the Versailles Peace Conference, while others 

resorted to the more direct method of declaring independence without securing recognition 

from the powers. One such early attempt that had an immediate impact on the March First 

Movement was the Korean students’ movement in Tokyo on February 8, 1919. On that day, Korean students gathered at the Korean Y.M.C.A. building in Kanda, Tokyo, and read loud 

their Declaration of Independence. Unsurprisingly, the Japanese police swiftly cracked 

down on the gathering and arrested many of the Korean students. However, the news of the Students’ Declaration soon reached Korea and stirred the Korean nationalist leaders and led 

them to organize a similar movement, which materialized in the March First Movement.479  The student movement in Tokyo had a small Christian element that stands in 

contrast to the subsequent March First Movement, which conventional historiography 

credits the Korean Church with having led. In fact, the student leader who drafted the February Declaration was none other than Yi Kwang-su, the sharpest and boldest critic of 

the Korean Church and its missionaries. Yi came to Japan to pursue advanced scholarship at Waseda University after he was ousted from Osan School by the leaders of the Presbyterian Church, and had established himself as an active leader of the Korean student community 

in Tokyo.  

  In that connection, it is also important to note that the Y.M.C.A. provided the 

venue for the student movement. As discussed in the previous chapter, the Y.M.C.A. 

attracted Korean students because, as an international civic organization, it was one of few 

places where Koreans could enjoy relative freedom of speech without intervention from the 

Church and its missionaries or agents of the Japanese empire. The same was true of the 

Korean Y.M.C.A. branch in Tokyo and it provided space where many political-minded Korean students could gather together. For example, Sŏ Ch’un, one of the central figures in 

the student movement at the Tokyo Y and also an alumnus from Osan School,  was a leftist who shared with Yi Kwang-su a critical view of the Korean Church public criticizing 

the Church for its dependency on western missionaries and its anti-national tendencies.  The nationalist movement by Korean students in Tokyo, which galvanized the subsequent March First Movement, was led by young Korean intellectuals who had a low view of the Korean Church and kept their distance from it.  

 

Ch’ŏndogyo’s Initiative in the March First Movement 

  The absence of the Christian element was also conspicuous in the preparatory 

process of the March First Movement. The planning of the Movement was mainly led by Ch’oe Rin (1878-1958), Kwŏn Tong-jin (1861-1947), and O Se-ch’ang (1864-1953), all of 

whom were leaders of Ch’ŏndogyo, the succeeding organization of the former Tonghak, the 

indigenous religion that intimidated Christians in Korea in the famous anti-foreign uprising 

of 1894. By 1919, the Ch’ŏndogyo had modified their political and ideological orientation 

and enlisted some intellectual leaders such as above-mentioned Ch’oe, Kwŏn, and O under 

the new leadership of Son Pyŏng-hŭi (1861-1922), but still had no friendly relations with the Christian Church, much less with the missionaries, whom they used to attack as foreign 

intruders. 

  The Ch’ŏndogyo leaders began to prepare their own independence movement in January 1919, upon hearing of the Wilson’s Fourteen Point Statement. These leaders 

thought that if Koreans successfully demonstrated their collective will for national 

independence, this aspiration would be recognized by the Allied Powers, and thus planned 

to draft and distribute a Declaration of Independence throughout the world, including 

Japan.  For this purpose, they tried to recruit several important leaders from outside Ch’ŏndogyo institutions. At this time, Ch’oe Rin approached Ch’oe Nam-sŏn a prominent 

scholar who was well versed in both Chinese classics and contemporary western 

scholarship, but not a Christian, and asked him to draft the Declaration. Ch’oe consented, 

while refusing to sign the declaration itself to avoid arrest by the Japanese.  

  It is worth recalling here that Ch’oe Nam-sŏn and Yi Kwang-su had worked 

together to publish Ch’ŏngch’un and introduced Yi’s harsh criticism on the Korean Church 

to the public through his magazine. Ch’oe Nam-sŏn had respect for his Christian friends and mentors, but had no religious commitment to the Church and the Christian cause.  

Therefore, it was natural that the Declaration he drafted included no specific references to Christian tenets or thought. In fact, the absence of Christian language in the Declaration is 

so obvious that even the leading Korean Church historian of the nationalist school, Min 

Kyŏng-bae admits that there is no Christian confession in the statement of the 

Declaration.   

  The Ch’ŏndogyo leaders also took full responsibility for printing the Declaration. They printed three thousand copies of it in their own printing factory that usually published 

their organizational papers. The company was located on the campus of Posŏng School, 

which was owned and run by the Ch’ŏndogyo.  It goes without saying that printing and 

distributing uncensored documents was illegal and a difficult business, given the watchful 

eyes of the omnipresent Japanese police. That the Ch’ŏndogyo managed to print their 

Declaration was due to the fact that, unlike the Korean Church, it possessed all the necessary material and human infrastructure under its own jurisdiction without relying on 

any external form of support.   

  By contrast, the sixteen Christian leaders who signed the Declaration played no 

part in drafting and printing this document. They nevertheless became its signatories over 

the course of the following events. The first Christian involvement in the movement began 

when Ch’oe Rin asked Ch’oe Nam-sŏn to invite Yi Sŭng-hun from P’yŏngan Province to 

join their movement in mid-February, 1919.  Ch’oe knew Yi personally as he had 

provided personal support for Yi’s Osan School in Chŏngju.  Meeting with the Ch’ŏndogyo leaders in Seoul, Yi agreed to participate in the movement and promised to 

cultivate more Christian supporters in his home province in the north, where he soon 

recruited several prominent Christian ministers such as Kil Sŏn-ju and Yang Chŏn-baek.  After securing their support, he came to Seoul again and met Ham T’ae-yŏng, a young Presbyterian layman, and Pak Hŭi-do, a Methodist minister and also Y.M.C.A. officer, both 

of whom joined the movement.  Pak subsequently brought his Methodist colleagues to 

Ham and Yi, and the Christian leaders all agreed to ally with the Ch’ŏndogyo for the sake of national union.  Henceforth, the Christian leaders signed onto the Declaration and 

helped distribute it to regions throughout the Christian network.  

  There is no doubt that Yi Sŭng-hun was the single most important figure among 

the Christian signers, and there would have been no Ch’ŏndogyo-Christian alliance and no Christian signers, had he not taken an active part in the movement. However, as already 

discussed in previous chapters, Yi was already a black sheep in the Korean Church for his 

political involvement and did not represent the Korean Church at that time. It is true that he 

became ordained a Presbyterian Elder after he was pardoned from prison in 1915 and 

entered Presbyterian Theological seminary in 1916 at the age of 52, but he was soon asked 

to withdraw by S.L. Roberts, the missionary in charge of his home church in Chŏngju, who 

was aware of his political ambition.  Thus, had Yi been a loyal member of the Korean Church, he could not have acted in the way that he did. In the first place, his participation in 

the movement boldly transgressed the principle of the separation of politics and religion. Also, his collaboration with the Ch’ŏndogyo was controversial since the Korean Church 

had long despised the indigenous religion as a heathen, idol-worshipping cult that was incompatible with Christian faith.  His involvement in the March First Movement was 

possible because he had been disloyal to ecclesiastical rule and the tradition of the Korean Church despite being an ordained elder. In substance, he was no different from An Ch’ang-ho or Yi Kwang-su who were loosely affiliated with the Church but left it when 

ecclesiastical censorship over their political and intellectual freedom became too 

cumbersome.  

 

Signatures against their Will : Kil Sŏn-ju, Yang Chŏnbaek and Chŏng Ch’un-su 

  Unlike Yi Sŭng-hun, Kil Sŏn-ju and Yang Chŏn-baek were two of the first seven 

Korean ministers ordained in 1907 and established themselves as leading ministers in the Korean Presbyterian Church. On this basis, previous studies have concluded that their 

signatures on the Declaration of Independence represent irrefutable evidence that the Korean Church, especially its Presbyterian branch, made a great contribution to the 

independence movement.  

  This conventional understanding of the role played by Kil and Yang has been 

drawn without giving serious consideration on their own testimony, which they made 

during the court trials following the March First Movement. During the court hearings, Kil 

himself insisted that he never agreed with Yi Sŭng-hun’s intrigue. According to Kil, when 

he met with Yi in P’yŏngyang in mid-February, Yi told him that he was working with the Ch’ŏndogyo leaders to prepare a “petition”, not a provocative “declaration,” to the Japanese 

government to permit Korean independence. Yi asked Kil to come to Seoul and join the 

movement but Kil refused as he was blind and physically weak. Then, Yi then pled with Kil 

to give his personal seal so that he could add his name on the petition in his behalf. Kil 

consented to do this, assuming that petitioning for independence would be acceptable to the Japanese as it was something like “a child asking his father to pass on a land title to 

him.”  From that point, Kil did not hear anything from Yi about the movement until the 

day before March First, when Yi’s messenger abruptly came and asked him to come down 

to Seoul. Kil was then in Hwanghae Province for a Bible study meeting and hurried to Seoul by night train. Upon arriving in Seoul, he learned that Yi and other Christians 

distributed the Declaration of Independence, which he had never seen or read, and his name was also publicized as one of the signatories. Greatly shocked, the honest Kil felt 

responsible for the fact that his name had been used and swiftly surrendered to the Japanese 

authorities in order to explain his innocence.  

  Therefore, Kil continued to show the Japanese that he was only guilty for his 

ignorance of the subsequent development of the event after he gave Yi his seal. When he 

was told by the Japanese prosecutor that Yi had claimed that Kil had agreed to sign the Declaration, he rejected this and made clear that “Yi was wrong on that point.”  He then 

described his state of mind when he agreed to the idea of submitting a petition. 

 

Let me tell you my true heart. I have been devoted only in religion and paid little attention to politics. However… when I heard that national self-determination was proposed, because of my folly, I consented to give my name to the petition. Looking at the consequence as it is, I will never take part in such an attempt again, even if independence or even the entire world should be offered.  

 

As this statement was made in court, one may be tempted to think of it as a court tactic to 

escape Japanese punishment. However, it is important to note that such denials were made 

only Kil and Yang Chŏn-baek (discussed below), the two senior ministers of the Korean Presbyterian Church, while other Christian leaders squarely confessed their conviction that 

they were frustrated by the Japanese and thus participated in the movement to demonstrate 

their will to national independence. To take a few examples, Yi Sŭng-hun detailed how he 

was ill-treated by arrogant Japanese officials and accused the Japanese of treating Koreans 

as “barbarian” during the trials.  Pak Hŭi-do proclaimed that he would never quit the 

independence movement, when the Japanese judge asked about his plans for the future.  Ch’oe Sŏng-mo testified that he gave his seal to Ham because he had consented to the 

purpose of the movement.  Even the relatively moderate Sin Hong-sik stated that he had 

been discontent about Japanese discriminatory practices in Korea, though he accepted the 

annexation as God’s will.  In short, there were few among the prosecuted Christians who 

made such a strong claim for innocence. It therefore seems less likely that Kil, who was 

known to be the most respected minister of the Korean Church, told a lie in front of his 

fellow Christians to save himself alone. 

  For these reasons, it is reasonable to conclude that Kil actually played no part in 

the March First Movement besides that of being misled by Yi Sŭng-hun to lend his name. 

Kil was simply kept in dark (and he was actually blind) and not informed of the clandestine 

intrigue by the movement leaders. His appeal for innocence was recognized by the Japanese 

prosecutors as it coincided with testimonies by others as well as other situational evidence, 

and Kil alone was pronounced not guilty for insufficient evidence among the thirty-three 

signers of the Declaration and released from prison as soon as the case was concluded.  

In the end, the court proved that the mainstream Presbyterian minister and leader of the Korean Church was a genuine religionist rather than an active nationalist.  

 

Yang Chŏn-baek 

  Like Kil Sŏn-ju, Yang Chŏn-baek also fell victim to Yi Sŭng-hun’s strategy of 

gathering seals for his Declaration under the pretense of merely petitioning the Japanese 

empire to recognize Korean independence. According to Yang’s testimony, Yi came to Sŏnch’ŏn in mid-February, during a Bible study conference that many Church leaders 

gathered to attend from all over P’yŏngan Province. Yi took advantage of the gathering to 

explain the movement plan, asking these church leaders to give him their seals for the movement’s “petition.”  Yu Yŏdae and Yi [Kim] P’yŏngjŏ concurred and gave their seals 

on the spot, but Yang promised to give his later. After Yi returned to Seoul, Ham T’ae-yŏng 

visited Yang to receive his seal around February 24 and Yang gave it at this time. Yang later 

received a letter from Yi in Seoul, explaining that the petition would be submitted soon. Yang arrived in Seoul on February 28, where he was shown the Declaration of the 

Independence for the first time by Ham T’ae-yŏng and found his name printed on it.  Still, Yang went to the Myŏngwŏlgwan Restaurant on the next day, where the Ch’ŏndogyo 

and Christian leaders gathered to read the Declaration, and was arrested by the Japanese 

police.  

  In court, the Japanese judge was not convinced of Yang’s innocence and pressed 

him to admit that he agreed to sign the Declaration, to which Yang answered: 

 

I have not heard anything about the Declaration of Independence. If I had known it before, I would not have given my seal... I never agreed [with the Declaration] but I went to the Myŏngwŏlgwan Restaurant because I had agreed to the more important business of sending a petition to the government … To this day, I have been opposed to the Declaration of Independence.  

 

Nevertheless, it was difficult for Yang to convince the Japanese authorities of his innocence 

because, unlike Kil, Yang did attend the gathering at the Myŏngwŏlgwan, knowing that the Declaration would be read with his name on it. In fact, Yang had almost given up on 

persuading the court on this point. 

 

I admit my error in passing over my seal to other person without hearing his explanation carefully. Nonetheless, as long as my name is already on the Declaration, I know that I would be presumed to have had known it in advance, even if I insisted of my ignorance. There is no other way.  

 

As Yang expected, his appeal was not taken seriously and rejected by the Japanese court 

and he was sentenced to two years in prison. However, it is important here to note again 

that the two senior and mainstream Presbyterian ministers, Yang and Kim, were the only 

ones who claimed for innocence for the same reason that Yi Sŭng-hun kept them dark what 

he really intended to do.  

 

Chŏng Ch’un-su 

  Ch’ŏng Ch’un-su was another case of a Korean church leader whose name was 

printed on the Declaration without his prior consent. Ch’ŏng was a Southern Methodist 

minister at a church in Wŏnsan, Hamgyŏng Province, and thus did not have any 

institutional or regional relationship to Yi Sŭng-hun. However, when he came to Seoul on 

church business, he was asked to join the independence movement by Pak Hŭi-do. He 

consented to the idea of submitting a petition, but disagreed with the idea of an alliance 

with Ch’ŏndogyo because he felt unsure of whether the Ch’ŏndogyo leaders had the same 

sense of peace and justice as him and his fellow Christian ministers.  In a meeting with Yi and other Christian leaders, Chŏng insisted that Christians should adopt a moderate 

approach and petition for Korean “autonomy” rather than “independence.”  Yi, however, 

insisted on the need of an alliance with the Ch’ŏndogyo and worried that if the Christians 

were hesitant, Ch’ŏndogyo would act independently.  The other leaders, especially Methodist leaders such as Pak Hŭi-do and O Hwa-yŏng (1879-1959?), all took Chŏng’s 

side and the Christian leaders agreed to collect signatures for the petition from each of their 

constituencies.  Hence, Chŏng returned to his home in Wŏnsan, while the leaders in Seoul were to prepare the petition. It was around February 20 right after Yi Sŭng-hun had 

returned from the north with agreements to petition for independence by the Presbyterian 

leaders such as Kil and Yang.  

  Upon returning home, Chŏng recruited several ministers including Kwak 

Myŏng-ni in Wŏnsan and waited for instruction from Seoul. Then, he received a letter from 

O Hwa-yŏng in Seoul and learned that the Christians in Seoul had decided to work with Ch’ŏndogyo. Chŏng was confused and sent Kwak to Seoul by train to get more precise 

information on February 27. The next day, Kwak returned from Seoul with copies of the Declaration of Independence and Chŏng was greatly shocked to find his name used among 

the signatories.  However, like Kil Sŏn-ju, he felt responsible for the consequences of the Declaration and went to Seoul on March 1, where he found all the signatories already 

arrested. After some hesitation, Ch’ŏng eventually surrendered on March 6.    Chŏng’s assertion that he was not informed of the new developments in Seoul 

after he left for Wŏnsan was unanimously corroborated by other Christian leaders who 

stayed in Seoul. For instance, Pak Hŭi-do testified that Chŏng left for Wŏnsan after the 

meeting on February 20 and was not informed of what happened afterward. Thus, Pak himself wondered how Chŏng’s name ended up appearing on the Declaration.  Ham T’ae-yŏng who actually signed on the Declaration on behalf of those who were not present 

in Seoul on February 27 clarified that point in his testimony. Ham clearly stated that, while 

he received the seals from others as proxy and signed for them, he did not receive Chŏng’s 

seal, but thought Chŏng had given it to O Hwa-yŏng and thus added Chŏng’s name to the 

list. In retrospect, however, Ham admitted, “it was likely that Chŏng was not well 

informed.”  To corroborate that point, O Hwa-yŏng testified that Chŏng’s name was 

absent when the Christian leaders finalized the list of signers on February 22.  Chŏng 

was absolutely sure of his innocence and repeatedly appealed to the court that “I only 

agreed to give my name to the petition for autonomy and it was against my will to demand 

independence.”   

   

Yi Sŭng-hun’s Impetus for the Chŏndogyo-Christian Alliance: Financial Need  The testimonies of the three ministers above strongly suggest that Yi Sŭng-hun 

acted on his own authority in changing the independence movement’s core statement from a “petition” to a “Declaration” and used the names of other Christian leaders at his 

discretion, while giving them little information on these important changes. In other words, 

while Yi first agreed to the idea of submitting a moderate petition to the government within 

a legal framework,  at some point he changed his mind and turned to a more 

confrontational method of distributing the Declaration of Independence without 

government permission.  

  The explanation for this important change was pressure coming from Ch’ŏndogyo 

leaders who preferred a more confrontational approach to the achievement of independence. In fact, in a discussion of the proper methods of the independence movement, Ch’oe Rin 

told Yi Sŭng-hun directly that he disagreed with the Christian idea of petitioning the 

Japanese empire.  Yi knew well that some of his Christian comrades were biased against Ch’ŏndogyo leaders and that it would be even more difficult to ally with them if they 

imposed their radical methods on the Christians. Nevertheless, he decided to accept Ch’ŏndogyo’s demands because Ch’oe Rin had promised financial aid in return. Yi who 

first asked Ch’oe to provide 5,000 yen for him as the “movement fund” (undongbi) and, 

when Ch’oe concurred, Yi promised that the Christian leaders would collaborate with Ch’ŏndogyo.  Ch’oe delivered the requested sum in cash to Yi the next day upon the 

approval of Sŏn Pyŏng-hŭi, the head of Ch’ŏndogyo.  Soon, Yi and Ham T’ae-yŏng 

came to see Ch’oe and confirmed that the Christians would work with Ch’ŏndogyo.  

  In court, Yi claimed that the money was not a gift but a “loan” from Ch’ŏndogyo. He explained that he needed funds to borrow because there was little time to collect money 

from Christian comrades for the movement.  It is impossible to tell whether this was true 

or not. What is important, however, is that financial aid was the crucial factor that led Yi to 

adopt Ch’ŏndogyo’s more radical preference for declaring independence. Moreover, these 

important decisions were made at Yi’s discretion without informing Kil, Yang and Chŏng 

until later.  

  In Yi’s defense, it must be pointed out that, without funding from Ch’ŏndogyo, 

Christian leaders had no financial means with which to execute the movement. Korean Christian poverty had been a serious problem since the foundation of the Korean Church 

and the meager salary of the Korean ministers was a constant cause of frustration. 

Moreover, the foreign missions that presided over the Korean Church were against any engagement in politics and there was no hope at all that the Church would grant 

institutional support for the nationalist movement, much less a financial gift.    

  The comparative poverty of the Christian leaders is clear when we compare the 

average salaries of the Christian and Ch’ŏndogyo leaders who were involved in the 

independence movement. Among the Ch’ŏngdogyo signers of the Declaration, Hong Ki-ch’o (1865-1938), Yang Han-muk (1862-1919), and Pak Chun-sŭng (1866-1927), each 

of whom held the status of priest (tosa), received 40 yen a month with additional monthly 

allowances from 4 to 5 yen depending on the change in crop price,  while the Elder (changno) such as Hong Pyŏng-gi (1869-1949) and Yi Chong-hun (1858-1932) received 60 

yen and 70 yen respectively. O Se-ch’ang, the Ch’ŏndogyo’s executive officer and one of 

the masterminds of the Declaration movement, received 100 yen a month, while Son Pyŏng-hŭi, the founder of the religion, enjoyed the extravagant salary of 500 yen a 

month.   

  By contrast, Kil Sŏn-ju, the most prominent Presbyterian Church leader, who 

ministered the largest Korean Church in P’yŏngyang with more than 2,000 members, received only 40 yen a month, which is slightly less than the average Ch’ŏndogyo priest’s 

salary that included additional allowances. Nevertheless, Kil was still better off than most 

other Christian ministers. Chŏng Ch’un-su, a Southern Methodist minister, received 30 yen 

a month, while his colleague and a non-ordained evangelist (chŏndosa), Kwak Myŏng-ni, 

who ministered a church with 120 members, received only 20 yen a month.  By contrast, Korean employees of Mission-owned institutions seem to have generally enjoyed a better 

salary than the Korean ministers. One of the Christian signatories, Pak Tong-wan (1885-1941), who worked for Kidok sinbo (The Christian News), the Christian newspaper 

funded by the foreign missions, received 35 yen a month.   

  With such limited income, Korean ministers had to struggle to support their 

families. Considering that even the average college student, who was arrested for 

participating in street demonstrations during the March First Movement, received 15 yen to 20 yen a month from their parents,  the financial strain upon the Korean ministers are 

plain. In fact, Chŏng Ch’un-su, who had a wife and four children to support, was already on the brink of financial collapse and had begged for financial assistance from his mentor and 

wealthy layman of his Southern Methodist denomination, Yun Ch’i-ho. Yun responded 

favorably to his plea and rendered the needed assistance, which gravely concerned Yun 

about the future of the Korean Church, especially young able ministers.  

 

[Chŏng Ch’un-su] unbosomed to me the financial difficulties he is in. 30 yen a month with a debt of ￥100 still weighing on him ― with a little girl to support in Miss Wagner's School [Southern Methodist mission school in Kaesŏng-- author] ― all this reducing his sal. to ￥15 ― a hard struggle ― I promised him to relieve him of his debt―installments over 4 or 5 months. The financial struggles of preachers are such that it paralyzes their spiritual life. The gulf between Korean church workers and missionaries is constantly widening. The missionaries ought to be more thoughtful and less arrogant in their dealings with and attitude to Koreans.    

 

  Because such poverty was the general condition of the Korean ministers’ family 

life, it is understandable that Christian leaders would divert a portion of the enormous fund 

they received from Ch’ŏndogyo to support their families during the movement. When Yi Sŭng-hun received the 5,000 yen in cash, he first deposited 3,000 yen in his friend’s bank 

account and gave the rest to Pak Hŭi-do, who distributed about 1500 yen for those traveling 

to the countryside and overseas to recruit supporters for the movement or deliver the copies of the Declaration. The remaining 500 yen was allocated to those who agreed to put their 

names on the Declaration on the ground that their family members would need financial 

compensation during their expected imprisonment. The Christian leaders decided upon a 

formula to grant 20 yen a month per dependent in their family and, accordingly, the 

voluntary signers received from 70 to 100 yen prior to March 1: Yi P’il-chu (1869-1942), 

70 yen; Pak Tong-wan, 100 yen, Yi Kap-sŏng (1889-1981), 80 yen; O Hwa-yŏn,g 80 yen, Pak Hŭi-do, 100 yen, Kim Ch’ang-jun (1888-?), 100 yen.  But the most needy Chŏng Ch’un-su did not receive any as he was not in Seoul at the time, regardless of the fact that 

his name was being used for the Declaration 

  That Christian leaders used the Ch’ŏndogyo’s monetary gift as a kind of family 

stipend provides further evidence of how distanced they had become from the Church. Had 

these leaders been confident that their Church members were supportive of the nationalist 

movement they were planning, they could expect that Christian supporters would provide 

sufficient means to take care of their families who sacrificed their breadwinners for the 

admirable cause of national independence. They knew too well, however, that such support 

would never occur, given the Church’s apolitical attitude and the general poverty of the Christians. So they had to rely on the timely and generous support from Ch’ŏndogyo rather 

than from the Korean Church. While the missionaries boasted that the Korean Church was 

becoming a self-supporting, self-governing, and self-propagating Church, the Christians 

who were willing to work for the nationalist cause had no resource with which they could 

stand up for Korean independence and had no choice but to rely on external support. 

 

Korean-Missionary Conflicts behind the Movement 

  The Christian leaders who signed the Declaration placed little hope in the 

missionaries. They knew that the missionaries would oppose their movement as a violation 

of the separation of the Church from politics. However, some of the Christian leaders who 

had long been associated with the missionaries felt that they could not simply neglect them 

and wanted at least to be honest about their intentions. Thus, these Christians dared to 

report their political determination to the missionaries and asked for their understanding, if 

not support.  

  Yi Kap-sŏng, one of the Presbyterian signatories, was baptized by Henry Bruen 

(NP) in 1908 and regarded the Bruens as being “the same as my parents” ever since.  

Thus, when Yi went down to Taegu on a secret mission to collect signatures for the petition (this was before the “petition” became the “declaration”) he stopped by Bruen’s residence 

and told him about his involvement in the movement.  Bruen did not become angry but 

showed “a chilly smile” and asked, “Do you think Koreans are qualified for independence?” 

to which Yi responded, “that’s something you will see later.”  

  Pak Hŭi-do, the leader of the Methodist group, received a similar warning from Arthur Becker, an educational missionary of the Northern Methodist Mission, when visiting 

him on the eve of the March First Movement. To Pak, Becker was a great benefactor who 

had sent him to high school and seminary, paying all his tuitions, and raising him as an 

intellectual minister. Also, Becker was the principal of the church school where Pak was 

teaching. When Pak disclosed his will to take part in the independence movement, Becker 

was worried that distributing the Declaration to the Korean masses might cause a riot as “there are few among the Koreans who were sufficiently learned and intelligent.” Hence, 

Becker complained to Pak: “You should have consulted me before putting your name on it 

[the Declaration].”    

  These missionaries’ comments to the Christian patriots were intended as 

sympathetic advice to save them from dangerous consequences, but they clearly evinced 

that typical missionary trait --- paternalism based upon a low view of Korean potentials. To 

them, Koreans were as a whole forever immature and thus in need of their kind guidance 

for anything. It was thus more a disappointing than pleasing incident for the missionaries to 

see their Korean protégées acting independently of their control and no longer seeking their 

paternal guidance.  

  In fact, Pak Hŭi-do encountered an even more unfriendly attitude when he met 

B.W. Billings (1881-1969, NM) after Becker. Billings was the head minister at the Central Church where Pak was also ministering. Pak thus felt it necessary to confess to the senior 

minister about his political involvement and ask him to prepare himself for Pak’s probable 

arrest and taking leave from the pulpit. When Pak met with Billings however, he found that, 

Billings already knew of Pak’s movement because Kim Ch’ang-jun, his fellow minister at the Central Church, had already come to tell him that both Kim and Pak had signed the Declaration and would devote themselves to the cause of independence. Billings was 

embarrassed to know that two Korean ministers under his authority were rebelling against 

ecclesiastical rule and had committed themselves to such a dangerous political plot. He said 

to Pak rather angrily,  

 

You must not engage in such a thing [as the independence movement]… A religion[ist] should not take part in it. Moreover, don’t you think it is meaningless to seek my consultation now, as you will be carrying out the movement tomorrow?    

 

Billings then began to offer a prayer in front of Pak so that God would protect, not his Korean disciples, but his Church from the “harm” that the two Korean ministers were about 

to cause.  According to Kim Ch’ang-jun, Billings “had a bad reputation” among Koreans 

because “he had no idea about the state (kukka) and [was] unsympathetic to the Korean 

cause” and therefore “had no reason to support our movement.”  If this is true, it was 

likely that both Kim and Pak went to meet the missionary not to ask for his understanding, 

but to declare their independence from him. They had long endured this disrespectful missionary as a boss but finally decided to stand for independence, not by ousting the 

missionary, but leaving the church and participating in the nationalist politics that the 

missionary had long forbade. In other words, Kim and Pak’s participation in the movement 

had a double purpose: independence from the missionaries on one hand, and independence 

from the Japanese on the other.  

         Chŏng Ch’un-su was more self-conscious about the relationship between 

asserting independence from the Mission as well as from Japan. In court, Ch’ŏng explained 

to the Japanese how the two forms of independences came to occupy his mind.  

 

As a Christian minister, I have come into conflict with the missionaries over church administration and had grievances against them. In addition to this religious problem, I have a problem with national [state] affairs, which is that the complete assimilation of Japan and Korea could not be materialized [even if the Japanese wanted it]  

 

To Chŏng, the fundamental cause of his religious problem--- subservience to the 

missionaries in the Korean Church ---was simple: the lack of Korea’s independent status 

among the nations in the world. Thus, he believed that Korean national independence had 

to be won first from the Japanese in order to accomplish ecclesiastical independence from the missionaries. It was thus his logical conclusion that “all Korean Christian pastors 

should sign the petition” for independence if they desired ecclesiastical independence and 

he hoped that “if we were successful in this attempt [at independence] …we can avoid 

conflicts with westerners in the area of religion.”  In short, Chŏng thought that national 

and ecclesiastical independence were inseparable and that the former was necessary to 

achieve the latter. On this point, Chŏng differed from the Korean church leaders who joined 

the Japanese Congregationalist Church and prioritized ecclesiastical independence as prior 

to national independence, and did not hesitate to borrow the Japanese hand in achieving 

independence from the western missionaries. Nonetheless, the difference between the two 

was merely strategic; both were struggling with a common problem that Korean Christians 

in colonial Korea had to face. They were caught in between two colonial overlords--- the 

missionaries who ruled the Church from within and the Japanese empire who oppressed the Church from without.  

 

Missionary Attitudes toward the March First Movement 

     As many studies have shown, there is no doubt that many missionaries took the Korean side once the independence demonstrations broke out, especially after the Japanese 

military police used cruel measures to crush the demonstrators.538 They were not 

supportive of Korean independence in itself, much less Christian involvement in nationalist 

politics, but they were moralists and could not overlook the fact of Japanese brutality and 

thus raised voice under the common slogan, “No neutrality for brutality.”539 Some 

missionaries such as Frank W. Schofield (1889-1970) publicized the Japanese colonial 

police’s cruel suppression of the Korean independence movement to the world through the Christian and secular media and pressed the Japanese government to restrain their use of 

violence.540 Moreover, some individual missionaries supported by the Mission boards at 

home met with high-ranking Japanese officials and influential Diet members both in Korea 

                                                   

538

 Samuel H. Moffett, "The Independence Movement and Missionaries," Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society, Korean Branch 54 (1979); Donald N. Clark, ""Surely God Will 

Work Out Their Salvation": Protestant Missionaries in the March First Movement," Korean Studies 13 (1989) 

539

 For the missionaries’ reaction to the March First Movement, see Frank P. Baldwin, "Missionaries and the March First Movement: Can Moral Men Be Neutral?," in Korea under Japanese colonial rule : studies of the policy and techniques of Japanese colonialism ed. Andrew C. Nahm (Kalamazoo: Center for Korean Studies, Institute of International and Area Studies, Western Michigan University, 1973). 

540

 Doretha Ellen Mortimore, "Dr. Frank W. Schofield and the Korean National 

Consciousness," in Korea's response to Japan : the colonial period 1910-1945, ed. C. I. 

Eugene Kim and Doretha Ellen Mortimore (Kalamazoo, Mich.: Center for Korean Studies, Western Michigan University, 1975), 245-261; Clark, Living dangerously in Korea : the western experience, 1900-1950, 53-55. 

and in Japan, as well as the Japanese ambassador in Washington and asked for reforms of 

the colonial administration.   

  Nevertheless, despite the good that these missionary actions brought to Koreans, 

they were meant to save the Korean Church and its innocent Christians from brutal 

suppression by the overly suspicious and anti-Christian Japanese police, who wrongly 

believed that all Christians were nationalist activists. The missionaries had little sympathy 

for the Christian signers of the Declaration or the participants in the “mansei” 

demonstration and thought that their movement would bring only harm to the Church. Moreover, the Korean Christian leaders of the independence movement themselves knew 

best that the missionaries were neither supporters of Korean independence nor their equal 

partners in the Church. For them, the missionaries were foreign overlords whose duty was 

to carefully watch over and guide the Korean Church so that Korean Christians would seek 

spiritual salvation rather than national salvation.  

  For their part, the Japanese authorities were biased against the Koreans and 

believed them to be incapable of standing up for themselves without foreign support. Hence, 

seeing the missionary efforts to protect Koreans from Japanese suppression, the Korean Government-General concluded that the Christian participants in the movement were being 

manipulated and supported by the foreign missionaries. Such Japanese judgments of Korean ability were seen as humiliating to the Korean Christian leaders whose aspiration 

for national independence was directed both against the Japanese empire and the 

missionaries. Hence when ordered in court to explain their relationship to the missionaries, 

the Korean leaders stressed their alienation from the missionary presence in Korea. For 

instance, Yi Sŭng-hun insisted that  

 

This independence movement was organized only by our comrades and there was no involvement of foreigners or overseas Koreans… We did not need any foreign assistance to begin with for such an [easy] thing as submitting our declaration to the Japanese government.  

 

Pak Hŭi-do, a missionary protégée, echoed this sentiment: “I had no intention of borrowing 

help from the missionaries.”  Pak made this statement in spite of the fact that he 

personally felt indebted to his missionary mentors for the help they had extended to him in 

the past. While the representative of Japanese colonial authority may have taken these Korean voices as an effort to cover up missionary involvement, but Yun Ch’i-ho, who kept 

in touch with a broad range of Korean Christians for many years and observed the rising tension between Korean Christian leaders and missionaries within the Church, had known 

that the Korean Christian leaders’ agony was real and becoming radicalized on the eve of 

the March First Movement.  

 

Yun Ch’i-ho’s Pessimistic Prospects for Missionary-Korean Relations 

  As mentioned above, Yun was close to Chŏng Ch’un-su and took kind and 

personal care of him as he was a young and promising minister of Yun’s denomination, 

Southern Methodist Church. Yun was well aware of the financial plight of the young Korean minister and cleared his debt for him in May, 1918, while criticizing the 

missionaries for their disinterest in the Korean ministers’ material welfare. By that time, Yun had known that Chŏng was frustrated not only by the lack of missionary sympathy for 

his financial plight, but also by their autocratic management of the Church and the mission 

schools. As early as September 1917, Chŏng had told Yun that he is “decidedly dissatisfied 

with the exclusive methods and manners of missionaries” and prophesized a more violent 

confrontation between missionaries and Korean Christians, which Yun worriedly recorded 

in his diary.  

   

He [Chŏng] said to … me, "If the missionaries persist on their policy of exclusiveness―not consulting Koreans on church policy and education, etc.―there will be a church revolution soon."   

   

According to Yun, Chŏng had already “showed signs of resistance [to missionaries] 

whenever he had chance” in church conferences and knew enough that the young minister 

was already pursuing ecclesiastical independence from the missionaries. 

  In July 1918, Yun witnessed another case in which his trusted young Korean Christian leader in Y.M.C.A. conflicted with a missionary and left his service. As 

mentioned above, Y.M.C.A. provided a comparatively free space for Korean nationalist 

leaders, who disliked the ecclesiastical control over them, yet even Y.M.C.A. was not free 

from missionary supervision.  

 

Yun Ki-wŏng, one of the best workers in the Industrial Dept. sent in his resignation. Yi In Yung tells me one of the reasons for this decision on the part of Yun is that Mr. Gregg [board member of Y] has been promising him now a raise in sal[ary] then a share in the profit, yet putting it off from week to week―Another reason is that he (Yun) is not given free hand in his department―too much interference and rude treatment.   

 

After observing the situation, Yun actually had come to the same conclusion with Chŏng 

that the Korean Christian revolt against the missionaries would have to happen. Yun 

prophesized: 

 

The arrogance and thoughtlessness of missionaries are alienating the Koreans in schools and churches where foreigners rule ―There will be a great revolt some day in near future on the part of the Koreans unless the missionaries change their attitude. What a pity!   

 

With this sense of urgency, Yun tried his best to alleviate to the tension between the 

missionaries and Korean Christian leaders. He actually told Samuel A. Moffett, the senior 

leader of the Presbyterian Mission that “there is gradual alienation between the Korean Church workers and the missionaries” and suggested “a Committee be appointed to 

investigate into the causes of this alienation.” Moffett agreed to Yun’s suggestion perfectly, 

and later a committee was appointed by the Council of Missions to investigate the cause of 

“gradual estrangement that exists in the relation between the missionaries and the Korean Christian leaders.”  Yet, Yun could not trust the missionary’s good will, confessing 

privately: 

 

But I fear nothing will come of it. The foreigners' contempt for Koreans is too profound to advise any advice. Final break or rebellion only will open the eyes of the missionaries―then may be too late.  

 

So, when the March First Movement took place, Yun knew well enough why some Korean Christian leaders were actively involved in it. Though it took the form of independence 

movement against Japanese, it had another aspect as a Christian “rebellion” against the 

missionaries who long suppressed Korean autonomy in the Church and schools. Yun did 

not endorse the independence movement itself since he was convinced direct confrontation 

with the Japanese would bring more harm to the Koreans than good and criticized the 

popular naïveté that western powers would intervene and help Korea win independence 

from Japanese.  Yet, Yun had been most sympathetic to the Korean Christian leaders’ 

agony under the missionary rule and predicted, though unhappily, that the Korean Christian 

frustration against missionaries would turn into action. While non-Christians might have 

not noticed, the Korean Christian leaders, though not representing the Church, were 

fighting for the two-front war in the March First Movement; they wanted to demonstrate 

their desire for liberation from both Japanese and the missionaries.  

   

Regional Deviation among the Participants   

  The fact that the Christian participants in the March First Movement were not 

sufficiently qualified to represent the Korean Church or the nation can be also seen from 

their strong regional character. The majority of Christian participants in the March First Movement, whether as leaders or as rank-and-file church members, were heavily 

concentrated in two particular regions, P’yŏngan Province and Seoul.   

  Table 2 shows the place of residence and origins of the Christian leaders who were 

prosecuted by the Japanese authorities for playing key roles in preparing the Declaration, 

regardless of whether they actually signed it or not. Out of these 23 Christian leaders, 11 

belonged to the Presbyterian Church of Korea 7 to the Northern Methodist, and 4 to the Southern Methodist Church. The denominational balance was more or less in accordance 

with the actual population of their respective churches at that time: Presbyterian, 70,000, 

Northern Methodist, 20,000, and Southern Methodist, 6,000. But their regional background was conspicuously unbalanced. 11 out of 8 Presbyterians had a long record of residence in P’yŏngan Province and half of these were concentrated in the small county of Chŏngju. As 

mentioned above, this small town was home to Yi Sŭng-hun and his Osan School and his 

discretion in collecting signatures for the Declaration does explain this extreme regional 

deviation. 

All the leaders from P’yŏngan Province leaders unanimously testified that they 

decided to join the movement upon Yi Sŭng-hun’s persuasion. Yi met with Yi 

Myŏng-nyong, Yang Chŏn-baek, Kim Pyŏng-jŏ and Yu Yŏ-dae on the occasion of the Presbyterian Annual Meeting in Sŏnch’ŏn, where they gathered secretly in Yang’s private 

residence after the official event and agreed to join the independence movement, giving Yi 

their seals to be used for the petition to be prepared.   

  That Yi’s recruitment policy was not denominational but solely regional is also 

evidenced by the fact that he also approached Sin Hong-sik, a Methodist minister in 

P’yŏngyang and succeeded enlisting Sin among the signers. Sin then introduced Yi to Pak 

Hŭi-do, a Methodist minister in Seoul,  who became Yi’s contact to the Methodist leaders. Yi also recruited another young Methodist Minister, Kim Chi-hwan, a native from Chŏnju, who was fostered under Yi’s tutelage, though he resided in Kaesŏng at the time of 

the movement.  In sum, almost all the leaders from P’yŏngan Province were connected to Yi Sŭng-hun through his personal network and their selection as movement leaders had 

nothing to do with the institutional decisions of the Korean Church.  

 Table 2  Korean Christians who prepared Declaration of Independence   

  Name Age Occupation Denominati on Residence Birth Place Sente nce 

1 Pak Hŭi-do 31 YMCA 

officer Northern 

Methodist Seoul Haeju, 

Hwanghae 2 

2 Yi P'il-ju 52 Minister Northern 

Methodist Seoul Hongsŏng, 

S.Ch'unch'ong 2 

3 Pak Tong-wan 35 Writer,  

Christian News Northern 

Methodist Seoul Yangp'yŏng,  

Kyŏnggi  

2 

4 Kim 

Ch'ang-jun 31 Minister Northern 

Methodist Seoul Kangsŏ,      

N.P'yŏngan 2.6 

5 Ch'oe 

Sŏng-mo 47 Minister Northern 

Methodist Haeju, 

Hwagnhae Seoul 2 

6 Sin Hong-sik 49 Minister Northern 

Methodist P'yŏngyang Seoul 2 

7 Kim 

Sae-hwang 32 School teacher Northern 

Methodist Suwon, 

Kyŏnggi Suwŏn, 

Kyŏnggi 0 

8 Chŏng 

Ch’un-su 45 Miniser Southern 

Methodist Wŏnsan, S. 

Hamgyŏng Ch'ŏngju, N. 

Ch'unch'ŏng 1.6 

9 O Hwa-yŏng 41 Minister Southern 

Methodist Seoul P'yŏngsan, 

Hwanghae 2.6 

10 Sin Sŏk-ku 46 Minister Southern 

Methodist Seoul Ch'ŏngju, N. 

Ch'unch'ŏng 2 

11 Kim Chi-hwan 29 Minister Southern 

Methodist  Kaesŏng,    

Kyŏnggi Chŏngju,     

N.P'yŏngan 0 

12 Yi Sŭng-hun 56 Elder Presbyterian Chŏngju, 

N.P'yongan Chŏngju,     

N.P'yŏngan 3 

13 Yi 

Myŏng-nyong 48 Farmer, 

Elder Presbyterian Chŏngju, 

N.P'yŏngan Ch'ŏlsan,     

N.P'yŏngan 2 

 

Table 2  Korean Christians who prepared Declaration of Independence  (Continued) 

14 Kil Sŏn-ju 52 Minister Presbyterian P'yŏngyang Anju, 

N.P'yŏngan 0 

15 Yu Yŏ-dae 42 Minister Presbyterian Ŭiju, 

N.P'yŏngan Ŭiju, 

N.P'yŏngan 2 

16 Yang 

Chŏn-baek 51 Minister Presbyterian Sŏnch'ŏn, 

N.P'yongan Ŭiju, 

N.P'yŏngan 2 

17 Kim Pyŏng-jŏ 42 Minister Presbyterian Chŏngju, 

N.P'yŏngan Chŏngju,     

N.P'yŏngan Exile to 

18 Kim To-t'ae 29 Unemployed 

(ex-school teacher) Presbyterian Chŏngju,  

N.P'yŏngan Chŏngju,     

N.P'yŏngan 0 

19 An Sae-hwan 33 Secretary,Chrisian 

Literature Society Presbyterian P'yŏngyang P'yŏngwon, 

S.P'yŏngan 0 

20 Yi Kap-sŏng 32 Officer, 

Severance Presbyterian Seoul Taegu,       

N. Kyŏngsan  2.6 

21 Ham T'ae-yŏng 48 Elder, 

(ex-judge) Presbyterian Seoul Mosan,      

N.Hamgyŏng 2.6 

22 Chŏng No-sik 30 Unemployed Presbyterian Seoul T'aein, N. 

Chŏlla 0 

23 Kim 

Wŏn-byŏk 27 Student, Yŏnhŭi 

College N/A Seoul Ŭnyul, 

Hwanghae 1.6 

 

Similarly, most of the Methodist participants were recruited through Pak Hŭi-do’s personal 

network, who had good connections with Christian intellectuals and students in Seoul as he 

was an active and popular officer of the Seoul Y.M.C.A.. Because the Y.M.C.A. was an 

ecumenical institution, Pak’s network reached out both to Presbyterians and Methodists 

regardless of their denomination. Among the signers, Chŏng Ch’un-su, Ch’oe Sŏng-mo, O Hwa-yŏng, Pak Tong-wan, Yi P’il-ju, Yang Chŏn-baek, Yi Kap-sŏng and Yi Sŭng-hun were 

affiliates of Y.M.C.A.  Even if these men did not necessarily know each other well, the 

fact that they were acquainted with one another across denominational lines confirms the Y.M.C.A.’s character as a center for politically-minded Christians. Pak Hŭi-do met with Yi Sŭng-hun through Sin Hong-sik’s mediation and invited his Methodist and Y.M.C.A. colleagues to form an inter-denominational alliance. Consequently, the core of the Methodist group in the independence movement was constituted by those living in Seoul 

and its surrounding vicinity: 8 out of 11 Methodists came from Seoul and neighboring Kyŏnggi Province.  

 

Regional Composition of Rank-and-File Participants 

  The regional unbalance of participation in the March First Movement was not 

limited to its leadership. The same was true of the rank-and file Christians who participated 

in street demonstrations and other anti-Japanese uprisings all over the country. Table 3 

shows the religious affiliation of the Koreans who were arrested and formally prosecuted 

by Japanese authorities between March 1 and May 24. As the “prosecuted” can be identified with those who participated in the movement most aggressively and were thus 

arrested by the Japanese as local movement leaders, we can reasonably estimate the general 

influence of Christians over the movement by analyzing their number among the 

“prosecuted.”  

 Table 3  Prosecuted Koreans for the March First demonstrations 

Province Branch Office Buddhism Confuci anism Ch'ond ogyo Sach'on ggyo Protestantism Catholicis m No

religion Unknown Total

Methodist Presbyterian Congregatio nalist Unknown Total

 Kyŏnggi /Kangwon Seoul 12 5 154 72 40 1 74 187 7 707 417 1,489

Kaesŏng 1 8 8 45 1 55

Suwŏn 0 1 1

Ch'unch'ŏn 1 0 25 26

Wŏnju 0 2 3 5

TOTAL 13 5 155 0 80 40 1 74 195 7 779 422 1,576

Ch'unch'ong Kongju 17 30 11 2 43 51 185 296

Taejŏn 1 0 36 37

Hongsŏng 0 24 3 27

Ch'ŏngju 1 2 3 2 1 6 103 29 141

TOTAL 1 0 20 0 33 13 0 3 49 0 214 217 501

Hamgyŏng Hamhung 184 95 3 98 82 278 642

Pukch'ŏng 3 0 9 12

Wŏnsan 1 7 11 18 1 22 42

Yŏnghŭng 1 0 5 6

Kangnŭng 3 6 6 80 1 90

Ch'ŏngjin 42 4 4 31 77

Sŏngjin 0 18 7 25

Hoeryŏng 7 7 6 13

TOTAL 0 0 234 0 13 117 0 3 133 1 244 295 907

P'yŏngan P'yŏngyang 400 115 193 1 4 313 1 168 5 887

Tŏkch'ŏn 1 1 1 2 4

Chinnamp'p 3 16 19 20 39

Sinŭiju 1 2 124 13 206 1 220 81 79 507

Chŏngju 38 7 4 11 62 4 115

TOTAL 1 2 563 0 131 423 2 8 564 1 333 88 1,552

Hwanghae Haeju 137 60 95 9 164 4 405 710

Sŏhŭng 27 30 48 1 79 1 100 6 213

Caeryŏng 6 6 15 2 23

TOTAL 0 0 164 0 90 149 0 10 249 5 520 8 946

North Kyŏngsan Taegu 11 1 212 1 1 214 5 216 72 519

Kumch'ŏn 8 8 6 24 38

Sangju 4 0 17 21

Andong 16 16 139 73 228

Ŭisŏng 7 7 14 27 48

Kyŏngju 1 1 1 17 19

Yŏngdŏk 32 2 34 2 3 39

Ulchin 2 2 22 24

TOTAL 15 0 0 1 0 277 1 4 282 5 417 216 936

South Kyŏngsan Pusan 38 31 31 95 37 201

Ulsan 1 1 1 52 5 59

Masan 5 3 2 29 29 181 5 225

Miryang 0 30 30

T'ongyŏng 3 1 1 8 12

Chinju 4 3 1 6 3 9 174 191

Kŏch'ang 3 3 11 14

TOTAL 46 7 6 1 0 70 0 4 74 0 521 77 732

 Chŏlla Kwangju 1 81 81 57 139

Sunch'ŏn 15 0 28 43

Mokp'o 3 16 1 17 49 69

Changhŭng 2 7 1 8 75 4 89

Cheju 1 1 28 29

Chŏnju 2 19 34 4 38 98 21 178

Kumsan 1 1 1 7 4 13

Namwon 11 0 11

Chŏngŭp 1 1 34 35

Kunsan 19 21 5 26 4 30 79

TOTAL 3 3 67 0 1 161 0 11 173 0 380 59 685

GRAND TOTAL 79 17 1,209 2 348 1,250 4 117 1,719 19 3,408 1,382 7,835

Percentage 1% 0 15% 0 4% 16% 0 2% 22% 0 43% 18% 100

Source: Chōsen Sōtokufu,"Sōjōjiken kiso hikokunin no shinkyō betsu"(May 9, 1919) Japan Center for Asian Historical Records （http://www.jacar.go.jp） Ref. Code, C06031115800. Translation mine.

According to these statistics, Christians made up 1,719 out of the 7,835 prosecuted, which 

roughly equals 22%. This statistic is often quoted as strong evidence that the Korean Church and their Christians led the March First Movement.  Indeed, the Christian 

percentage is disproportionally high when compared to the actual Christian population at 

that time, around 2% of the national population. Nonetheless, we should note that the 

regional distribution of Christian participants was so uneven that there is reason to question 

whether Christian participation was a prevailing feature of the movement when observed at 

the national level. 34% of the Presbyterian participants (423 / 1,250) were concentrated in P’yŏngan Province, 22% (277 / 1,250) were in Northern Kyŏngsang Province, and 16% (161 / 1,250) in Chŏlla Province. Thus, the top three provinces produced more than 60% of 

the Presbyterian participants. Likewise, 38% of the Methodists (131/ 348) were also 

concentrated in P’yŏngan Province, 25% (90/ 348) in Hwanghae, and 23% (72 / 348) in Kyŏnggi, together constituting more than 80% of the total number of Methodist 

participants.  

  A closer look at the place of residence of these participants reveals that they were 

even more narrowly concentrated within each province in a few particular cities or counties. 

In P’yŏngan Province, more than 94% of the Presbyterian participants were arrested in P’yŏngyang (193) and Sinŭiju (206) alone. In North Kyŏngsang, Taegu alone produced 

over 75% of the participants, while Hamhŭng produced 81% of all Hamgyŏng participants. The same trend applies to Methodist participants: P’yŏngyang constituted 86% (115 / 131) 

of the total in P’yŏngan Province, Haeju held 66% (60 / 90) in Hwanghae and Seoul 

occupied 90% (72/ 80) of participants in Kyŏnggi. In short, far from being a “national” 

phenomenon, Christian participation in the movement was narrowly limited to a few 

specific sites within large provinces. 

  On the other hand, the narrow geographical concentration of the Christians marks 

quite a contrast to the universal distribution of non-Christian participants. For instance, the 

number of those “without religious affiliation,” namely the masses at large, also tended to 

concentrate in Seoul and Haeju, but their numbers were far more evenly distributed within 

each province, when compared to those of the Christians. Also, these “unaffiliated” 

participants were active in many regions where little or no Christian participation was 

observed. From these observations, it is estimated that, excepting a few locations where the 

concentration of Christian participation was conspicuous, Christian influence over other 

participants was not as significant as has been previously thought. As evidence for this argument, we may cite the fact that the ratio of Christian participants to total participants in Kyŏnggi and North Kyŏngsang Province was only 12 % and 10 % respectively in spite of 

the fact that both provinces produced the largest number of Christian participants. Hence, 

the Christians were a minority in the March First Movement and outnumbered by 

non-Christian participants, even if they were more active than other religions. Like their 

leaders who prepared the Declaration of Independence, the rank-and-file Christian 

participants in the March First Movement were also regionally biased and unable to 

mobilize Christians in other regions. If the Korean Church was a national institution 

exercising control over all Christian constituencies and had injected its institutional 

resources, both material and human, in support of the March First Movement, Christian 

participants may have appeared more broadly across Korea. That this did not happen is due 

to the fact that Christian participants, whether leaders or rank-and-file, had only limited 

institutional power to move the Korean Church, an institution that had long been trained 

and controlled by foreign missionaries to remain aloof of nationalist politics.  

    

   

Epilogue 

 

The March First Movement exposed a schism between Christian nationalists and 

the Korean Church under Mission rule. This schism took the form of a protest against the Japanese colonial regime, but it also had the additional dimension of a nationalist rebellion 

against the Korean Church that had long suppressed the activities of nationalists within the Korean Church and censored believers to prevent their infection by nationalist thought from 

without. Christian participation in the nationalist movement thus meant subverting 

ecclesiastical conventions and declaring their independence from missionary authority.  

There were, of course, some Christian leaders who participated in the 

independence movement without a clear understanding of what the cost of such 

participation would be and how it would affect their relation to the Korean Church. In the 

aftermath of the March First Movement, however, even they had to realize the need to take 

a clear position between the nationalist camp and church authority. The relationship 

between the two forces was growing too contentious to allow for a neutral position.  

 

Christian Nationalists after the March First Movement 

  The Christian nationalists who had been already critical of the apolitical stance of 

the Korean Church chose to remain outside the Church and continued to take part as Christian individuals in various nationalist programs even after the March First Movement 

failed to bring about immediate national independence. Rather than fade away, their 

nationalist movement gained stronger momentum in the 1920s due to the new Japanese 

colonial administration under Governor-General Saitō Makoto, who took a more 

conciliatory approach, the so-called policy of “Cultural Rule,” to managing rising Korean 

nationalism and providing greater public space in which Koreans could discuss and pursue 

their nationalist ideals within a colonial framework. During this period, greater freedom of 

assembly was secured, the notorious Commercial Law that restricted Korean commercial 

enterprise was abolished, and many publications in Korean language, including daily 

newspapers, were permitted.  

All of this was particularly good news for Korean Christians, whose freedom of 

speech and social activities had been suppressed within the Church organization. They no 

longer needed to rely on the Korean Church and other religious institutions as an expedient 

means to pursue their own socio-political activities. They could now organize civil societies 

on their own, establish commercial corporations and publish newspapers and journals for their nationalist cause. It is not the case that “Cultural Rule” granted full civil liberties to Koreans; it did, however, create an alternative space for Korean Christians to pursue their 

socio-political objectives outside the Korean Church.  

In fact, the major Christian nationalists who participated in the March First Movement unanimously competed over this newly created public space and launched new 

movements within it. Yi Sŭng-hun, who was released from prison in 1922, returned to his 

hometown and resumed educational work at Osan School. He also joined the movement by 

leading intellectuals and educationalists such as Yun Ch’i-ho to establish the first university 

in Korea.  The university was planned as a secular institution open to all Korean students 

without any relationship to the Church. By that time, there was already Sungsil College in P’yŏngyang and the Chōsen Christian College (Yŏnhŭi chŏnmun hakkyo) in Seoul, but Yi 

Sŭng-hun and Yun Ch’i-ho wanted to establish a separate secular university that would be Korean-financed and –managed rather than attempt to improve the existing mission 

institutions. For Korean nationalists, the nationality of the school was more important than 

its religious identity. 

The “national university” (millip taehakkyo) plan ultimately proved abortive due to 

the refusal of the colonial government to permit it amid plans to establish the first imperial 

university in Korea. Nevertheless, Yi Sŭng-hun quickly found another forum in which to 

pursue his nationalist ideals. He was invited by the Tonga Ilbo newspaper company to 

assume its chief executive office.  The Tonga Ilbo was a daily newspaper, established by 

a group of secular entrepreneurs. It was headed by Kim Sŏng-su (1891-1955), a leading Korean capitalist and the president of the Kyŏngsŏng Spinning Company  and, along 

with its rival newspaper, Chosŏn Ilbo, was a product of the “Cultural Rule” policy of 

permitting more Korean language publications. Thus, it had every reason to hire Yi Sŭng-hun not as a Christian leader, but as a renowned nationalist.  

In fact, the newly established nationalist media generally promoted a critical view 

of the Korean Church, especially its denationalizing tendencies, and Christian nationalists, 

who had become alienated from the Church, joined in this nationalist critique of Korean 

Christianity. A symbolic example of this trend may be cited in Yi Sang-jae’s public denunciation of Korean Christians for discontinuing the practice of traditional ancestral 

worship, an incident that was publicized in the Chosŏn Ilbo in September 1920. Yi blamed 

the missionaries for defining the traditional Korean practice of venerating parents as idol 

worship and urged that Koreans “should not forget Korean spirit [chosŏn hon] even in the 

realm of religion.”   

This kind of nationalist critique of Korean Christian practice and subservience to 

the missionaries had already circulated among Korean intellectuals prior to March First. That it was now disseminated through the popular media by one of the most prominent Christians in Korea such as Yi Sang-jae, however, was a phenomenal change. Given that 

there were several Christian papers such as Christian News (kidok sinbo), Yi could have 

raised his criticisms through the Christian media as an attempt at reformation within the Church establishment. However, these media outlets were all owned by the Missions and Yi 

must have known that they would never provide such space for him, who had long 

distanced himself from the Church and devoted himself to educational causes through the Y.M.C.A. In any case, Yi Sang-jae chose to challenge ecclesiastical authority not from 

within, but from without, with the backing of secular nationalists.  

 

The Korean Christian Approach to Communism 

Some Christian intellectuals turned to socialism as a new vision for the nation in 

the post-March First era. Communist thought had already been introduced into Korea from Japan prior to March First, but it gained a broader currency among Korean intellectuals in 

the 1920s as Japanese censorship loosened and the intellectual importing from Japan 

increased. Among such left-leaning intellectuals was one veteran of March First, Pak Hŭi-do, a signatory of the Declaration of Independence, who ignored the missionary 

persuasion to participate in the movement.  

When Pak was released from prison, he did not return to the pulpit, but instead 

launched a magazine, Sinsaenghwal (New Life) which he served as chief editor, to promote 

social reform ideals with a leftist bent. For this endeavor, he was quickly targeted by the Japanese thought police and sent to jail again when he publicized an article in 1922 to 

commemorate the fifth anniversary of the Russian Revolution.  After his second release 

from prison, he increasingly collaborated with Japanese colonial authority and established a 

Japanese-language journal in the 1930s to promote the Japanese imperialist cause. The motive behind his conversion to communism and then to Japanese imperialism deserves its 

own study. Suffice it to note here that both ideologies advocated anti-western imperialism 

and could have appealed to Pak, who had observed a form of western imperialism in the Church.   

By contrast, Pak’s comrade-in-arms, Kim Ch’ang-jun, the other Methodist minister 

who signed the Declaration of Independence, returned to the pulpit after his release from 

prison. He seems to have repented and pledged allegiance to the Mission again. This 

change of heart is suggested by the fact that he was sent to study theology in the United States with missionary support, which was quite a privilege at that time. Yet, when he 

returned home again to assume a professorship at the Methodist seminary in the 1930s, he 

began to show interest in balancing Christianity with communism. He then publicized his 

view as “Jesus Socialism” (yesu sahoechuŭi), the Korean version of Christian Socialism.  He subsequently left Korea for Manchuria in the late 1930s to put his ideals into practice 

and when he returned home after Korean Liberation in 1945, he was more deeply 

committed to communism and eventually migrated to North Korea.  

The Christian inclination toward communism was not limited to elite intellectuals, 

but is also observable among the rank-and-file Christian youth. Kim San, a pseudonym of Chang Chi-rak, was a student at a mission school in northern Korea, who participated in 

street demonstrations on March First. He believed that Christian pacifism and non-violent 

demonstration would bring immediate independence to Korea. However, he was 

completely disillusioned to see his Christian ideals trampled by brute Japanese force. He 

later recalled how this experienced had changed his life and thought. 

 

Before March First I had attended church regularly. I had never questioned the fact that the Christian church was the best institution in Korea, though I thought praying futile. After this debacle my faith was broken. I thought there was certainly no God and that the teachings of Christ had little application for the world of struggle into which I had been born.  

 

Moreover, the American missionaries’ reaction to the March First Movement and their 

religious bias against Korean involvement in politics completely disillusioned him of the 

Christian West. 

 

One thing in particular made me angry… was hearing an American missionary tell the people, “God is punishing Korea for the mistakes she has made. Now Korea is suffering to pay for these. Later God will let her recover after penance is done. When God wills, Korea will get her independence, not before.” Why should Korea be the only nation to practice Christian ethics, I asked myself. In Europe the Christian nations did not turn the other cheek… To fight was to gain victory. Only to pray was to ensure failure… March First was the beginning of my political career. A torment entered my soul and mind. All over Korea, young men felt the same.  

 

This experience led Kim San to conclude that something was missing from Christianity and 

this conclusion turned him toward communism, which promised a revolution by means of 

physical force. Eventually, Kim moved to China and joined the Red Army to achieve his 

goal.  

 

Perseverance for Vengeance 

    Ham T’ae-yŏng, the Presbyterian ringleader of the March First movement, entered 

the Presbyterian seminary and started a new career as an ordained minister after graduation. Thereafter, he continued to rise in the church hierarchy and established himself as an 

influential leader of the Presbyterian Church. However, as he gained power, he also began to challenge ecclesiastical authority of the conservative missionaries and their loyal 

followers.  

He later allied with the Methodist dissenter, Sin Hŭng-u, and established an 

interdenominational parachurch organization, the Positive Faith Association (chŏkkŭk 

sinangdan), the purpose of which was to abolish traditional Church doctrines and by-laws 

imposed by the Missions and to promote a more liberal faith among Korean 

Christians. Interestingly, his comrade from March First, Pak Hŭi-do, joined the 

Association and helped his challenge to ecclesiastical authority. Needless to say, the 

Association caused a strong reaction from the conservative Church and the Missions and Ham was pressed to dissolve the Association or leave the Church. He resisted, but 

eventually surrendered to pressure and chose to acquiesce in the inevitable. Nevertheless, 

he rebelled again in 1939 by establishing a new Presbyterian seminary, Chosŏn Sinhag-wŏn 

(Korean Theological Seminary) in Seoul with a formal permit from the Japanese 

authorities.  This seminary was the first seminary that was owned and run by Koreans and intended to challenge the mainstream Presbyterian seminary in Pyŏngyang that had 

been dominated by the Mission and used to propagate conservative theological ideas.   

  Similarly, Chŏng Ch’un-su, the most articulate critic of missionary rule over the Korean Church, chose to persevere in the Church for a while after March First, but 

gradually moved to challenge missionary authority. He resumed his ministry upon release 

from prison and devoted himself to the administration of the Church, which promoted him 

to high office by the 1930s.  At this time, he was once again arrested and imprisoned by 

the Japanese on charges of conspiring to form an underground anti-Japanese movement and 

communicating with Syngman Rhee in the United States. There is no way to know whether Chŏng actually did conspire against the Japanese empire. At a minimum, however, it is 

significant that the Japanese watched Chŏng for his advocacy of Korean national 

independence. Yet, after his second release, he began to urge reformation of the Korean Church, by which he meant adopting a more liberal faith and greater independence from 

missionary supervision. His anti-missionary stance won him the trust of Japanese colonial 

authority and, just as Pak Hŭi-do did, he collaborated increasingly with the Japanese. As the 

tension between Japan and the United States heightened in the late 1930s, Chŏng was elected Superintendent of the Korean Methodist Church and led the Christians to work for 

the Japanese imperial cause to fight against western imperialism.   

  Reviewing the life path of these veterans of March First, one notes that their dual 

desire for national independence from Japan and ecclesiastical independence from the Mission continued to confront them with a difficult question. There is no doubt that 

increasing Japanese pressure and violence had much to do with their pro-Japanese 

collaboration, but their challenge to missionary authority with Japanese support was not a 

new phenomenon in colonial Korea. It was already visible in the 1910s, when 

independent-spirited Church leaders began to transfer their allegiances to the Japanese Congregationalist Church en masse. In the 1930s, these veterans of the March First 

movement came to reach the same conclusion as the Korean Congregationalists had in the 1910s. When the increasing Korean Christian desire for the ecclesiastical independence was 

matched with their decreasing hopes for immediate national independence, they seem to 

have placed priority on former independence and taken advantage of Japanese support to 

achieve it.    

 

Return to Church Loyalty  

  While many Christian veterans of March First experienced many ups and downs 

over their continuous efforts for national independence both within and without the Church, 

the two reluctant participants in the movement, Kil Sŏn-ju and Yang Chŏn-baek, whose 

names were misused for the Declaration of Independence, returned to a simple and pietistic 

life as mainstream Presbyterian ministers. Kil was released ahead of other ministers as he 

was not sentenced to a prison term due to insufficient evidence, the only defendant to 

receive a de facto non-guilty sentence among the 33 signers of the Declaration of Independence. While he waited for the final verdict in his detention cell, he is said to have 

devoted himself to the reading of St. John’s Revelation and religious meditation.  Spiritually renewed, Kil returned to the pulpit in his Church in Pyŏngyang and continued to 

preach salvation from sin and hope for new life in the other world. His fame as a powerful 

evangelist never faded and he was invited to numerous revival meetings all over the country. Never again was Kil misled into joining any political intrigues and he ended his career as 

an orthodox Presbyterian minister within the established framework of the Church. 

Yang Chŏn-baek returned to his hometown in Sŏnch’ŏn and continued his ministry. His 

loyalty to the Presbyterian Church was not shaken in the post-March First period and he 

was appointed by the Church to an internal committee to compile the history of the Korean Presbyterian Church.  This appointment was doubtlessly a great honor for the senior 

minister and recognition of his long service for the Church by the foreign missionaries. Of 

course, he stayed out of politics and quietly ended his life in 1933, two years before Kil Sŏn-ju’s death.  

The continuity of the conservative and pietistic tradition of the Korean Presbyterian 

Church was clearly manifest in the makeup of its executive church officers. In the fall of 1919, the General Assembly of the Korean Presbyterian Church elected Samuel A. Moffett 

as its Moderator.  This paramount office had been occupied by missionaries for the first 

few years since the foundation of the Korean Presbyterian Church in 1907, but was passed 

over to Koreans from 1915 through 1918.573 As if to turn the back the clock by ten years, 

however, the Korean delegates to the assembly returned the office to missionary control after the March First Movement. This decision may have been an emergency measure 

adopted in response the absence of qualified leaders in the wake of Japanese arrests. Even 

allowing for this possibility, however, there were still “sixty-nine [Korean] pastors, seventy 

elders” along with “fifty-six missionaries” who responded to the roll call in the 

Assembly.  Moreover, according to F. S. Miller (NP), Moffett was elected in spite of the 

fact that his fellow missionaries “voted for a Korean candidate [out of] habit” to let a 

Korean pastor take office. Hence, the election of a missionary Moderator in spite of a Korean majority in the assembly and missionary support for a Korean candidate furnishes 

indisputable proof of how much the Korean Church remained dependent upon missionary 

power in time of need. As a matter of fact, the election convinced the missionaries of how 

much “the Koreans are determined to have Dr. Moffett preside and probably they are wise 

under the present political conditions.”  

  Such a strategic decision has to remind us of the early Christian converts who 

often sought missionary protection. By 1920, the missionaries had lost their extraterritorial 

privileges, but they were not colonial subjects and stood on par with the Japanese. Thus, the Korean church leaders had a reason to seat the missionary at the head of the Church, whom 

they expected to be a buffer, if not an aegis, to the persecuting Japanese in time of need.  

 In the following year, the General Assembly elected Kim Ik-tu (1874-1950) as the 

new Moderator to replace Moffett. The return of a Korean Moderator was s small step 

toward the normalization of church management, but Kim was not the type of leader who 

would do anything for the advancement of national independence. Kim was a typical Korean minister at the time. He came from humble origins and received little modern 

education, but was handpicked by a missionary to become a minister. By then, he was a 

popular revivalist and known for his extraordinary spiritual power such as faith-healing. Hence, with the assumption of the office of Moderator, he had his supporters compile the 

stories of his miracle and published it as “The Evidence of Miracles” in which tales of his 

fascinating healing of the sick, the blind and the lame filled over the pages.  Moreover, as 

he believed his miraculous powers were sufficiently proven, he let his follower ministers 

raise a motion in the General Assembly to revise the Constitution of the Presbyterian 

Church that denied the possibility of miracles.   

Kim’s faith-healing gained great popularity and the revival meeting he organized 

in Seoul in 1920 gathered more than 10,000 believers. While the sober, intellectual, and 

passionate nationalist Christian leaders were jailed for organizing the national 

independence movement, the majority of Korean church leaders and believers, in contrast, 

flocked around the revivalist-Moderator instead of nationalist fighters and indulged in a 

religious enthusiasm for his miracle. In the end, the March First Movement did not bring 

about any change in the fundamental character of the Korean Church. It was, as it had been, 

a society of the oppressed masses, who had little interest in nationalist politics, but gathered 

at the Church in search for various merits ranging from physical safety to religious 

salvation and healing.  

    The Christian indulgence in religious enthusiasm at a time of national crisis was 

enough to make Korean nationalists abandon the Church. Looking at the Korean Christians’ 

continuous negligence of national affairs, the new nationalist media could not but renounce 

the Church as a whole. A popular journal Kaebyŏk, edited by leftist intellectuals, called Kim Ik-tu a “crazy pastor” and blamed the Church for letting him disseminate superstitious 

beliefs among the Christians of the “ignorant class.”  The Tonga Ilbo also ran a critical article on the false faith-healing and other supposed miracles by Kim, while also 

mentioning that sober Christians were now opposed to Kim’s leadership. The Church, 

however, did not listen to such criticism but instead sent a letter of objection to the Tonga Ilbo, demanding that the article be rescinded.   

 

Missionary Responses to “Cultural Rule” 

  When the excitement of March First and the brutal Japanese suppression subsided, 

the majority of the missionaries also returned back to the everyday job of cultivating 

Korean faith. Their anger against the Japanese empire’s cruel treatment of innocent 

Koreans certainly led them to stand with Koreans and win the trust of some nationalists. 

Such solidarity, however, did not last long. They were soon captivated by the new Governor-General, attracted not only by his liberal policies but also by his personal 

character and sympathy for the Christian cause, and became more conforming toward the Japanese colonial administration. Indeed, the new Governor and his administration brought 

many changes to colonial administration, especially in its relation to the missionary and the 

Church.  

First, Saitō Makoto and his wife sought to develop personal relations with the 

missionaries. Saitō had spent four years in Washington D.C. as a young Naval Attaché to 

the Japanese Legation from 1884 to 1888 and had a good command of English as well as a 

good sense of western culture and taste. He could speak with the missionaries directly and 

cultivate their personal trust. Mrs. Saitō Makoto was equally adept at improving relations 

with the missionaries as she was a graduate from a Methodist mission school (Tōyō eiwa 

jogakuin) in Japan and had a good understanding of the missionary cause.   They often 

invited the missionaries to various formal and informal gatherings at the 

Government-General and entertained them well with honored guests, while listening 

sympathetically to missionary ideas and works. 

The Saitō administration also opened a new office, the Religious Affairs Section (shūkyōka), through which missionaries could file complaints and requests pertaining to 

religious matters. Saitō also brought with him a high-ranking officer and translator, Oda Yasuma, who was a graduate of Ohio Wesleyan College and a practicing Christian. Oda 

became an important intermediary in all the important matters between Mission and Government and his sincere work to improve relations between the two parties was 

“regarded most highly by the entire missionary community.”   

  There were of course more visible improvements too. The notorious government 

ordinance of 1915 was revised in 1920 and mission schools were given the right to teach 

religion. Also, in 1923, the Government issued a proclamation to the effect that private 

schools which meet the governmental standard may be “designated” as the equivalent of 

Government schools.  This policy change saved many mission schools, especially Presbyterian ones, from scheduled shut-down, which was supposed to happen in 1925 

according to the previous ordinance that had prohibited religious teaching in private schools 

after the ten-year grace period. The effect of this proclamation was immediate and “created 

an attitude of friendliness and co-operation between the Government officials and church 

leaders.”  The Government also allowed the Missions and Churches to establish their 

properties as “foundational juridical persons” (zaidan hōjin). This was also a legal revision 

missionaries had desired for some time to allow for convenient management of their 

Mission properties.  

  Of course, the missionaries were not entirely happy with the new administration. They suffered continuous annoyances from suspicious police, censorship of their 

publications, and interference with public ceremonies on the Sabbath day, etc.  

Nonetheless, Herbert E. Blair (1879-1945, NP) after observing the administrative transition 

from the Chosŏn dynasty to the Japanese colonial government saw that “the benefits of 

Japanese occupation upon the Church have been many.” 

 

Sunday has been made an official holiday. Peace and security of life and property has been given. Government regulations have taught efficiency. The Church of Korea has been given legal recognition and the incorporation of church bodies guarantees church and denominational property rights.  

 

When Saitō resigned his office in 1928 to serve as Ambassador Plenipotentiary to the Washington Conference, the Presbyterian Mission sent a congratulatory letter and 

expressed their sincere expression of friendship, to which Saito responded with equal 

friendliness: “As I look back on the past eight years and more during which I held office as 

Governor-General of Chosen, I recall with much pleasure the cordial relation that existed between all of you and myself.”  The friendly relationship was sustained even after Saitō 

left Korea in the 1930s when the fourth degree of the Order of the Sacred Treasure was 

conferred upon O. R. Avison (NP) in recognition of his forty-years of medical service and Samuel A. Moffett (NP) was presented with a gold medal in recognition of his 

distinguished service in the field of education.  So, it is not at all surprising that many 

missionaries later recalled the Saitō administration with much admiration and nostalgia. 

Even a known anti-Japanese missionary, Duncan MacRae (1868-1949, Canadian 

Presbyterian, “CP”), mourned Saitō’s death at the hands of rebel soldier in the famous February 26 Incident of 1936, writing to his family on that day : “Something has happened 

in Japan today. All kinds of rumours, Stock exchange closed, the Palace occupied, and a 

number crossed the Jordan to the land from which they do not return. The dearly loved Saito among them.”   

 

Missionary Relations with the Korean Church 

As missionary relations with the Government improved, its relations with the Korean Church and its loyal Christians remained unchanged. The missionaries were 

disturbed by the participation of some Christian nationalists in the March First Movement, 

but they knew that many of these were urban intellectuals only loosely affiliated with the Church, and did not represent the majority of Korean Christians. On the basis of their 

experience as long-serving field managers, the missionaries felt confident that the majority 

of Koreans, who mostly resided in the countryside, remained loyal to their ecclesiastical 

authority, detached from turbulent politics, and devoted to the religious cause.  

In fact, the General Assembly of 1919 was the best occasion for missionaries to 

confirm their confidence in Korean Christians. The missionaries were gladdened not so 

much by the election of a missionary-Moderator by the Korean delegates but by the fact 

that “one characteristic of the meeting… in this time of trial” was “the evident 

determination of the delegates that world politics shall not be allowed to enter their spiritual 

assembly.”   

For the missionaries, then, the primary task in the post-March First era was not to 

lead the Korean Church to adapt to the rise of nationalist sentiment in secular society, but to protect the Church from any dangerous influence. In particular, they were wary of 

nationalists who maintained nominal affiliations with the Church but engaged in politics in 

the name of Christianity. Hence, they tightened their grip over Korean Christian 

participation in politics and continued to purify the Church of political activism. This policy 

was loyally pursued and continued through the 1920s and 1930s.  

There were a few exceptional missionaries who astutely observed that the time had 

come to change conventional mission policy to adapt to socio-political changes that 

happened under the Japanese colonial regime, especially, in urban centers. For instance, James S. Gale, who interacted closely with Korean intellectuals in Seoul, understood that 

the Mission’s negligence of modern education for Korean Christians completely isolated 

them from the rest of society, where people could access modern scientific knowledge and 

learn critical views of religion through secular education at public schools and media 

without intermediation of the Church or the Mission. Though his message came rather 

belatedly, Gale felt compelled to urge his fellow missionaries that 

 

Modern education, be it ever so superficial, so defective, so much mixed and compounded of East and West, is a mighty factor in the city of Seoul. Therefore, the pastor must himself have explored, seen, and known its world if he would appeal to the educated classes about him. The day of the old pastor who hardly knows that the world is round, is gone never to return.  

 

Moreover, he stressed that English and Japanese had become necessary means of leading 

the growing number of educated Koreans.  

 

As a sine qua non of special knowledge he should read and speak freely both Japanese and English. He needs Japanese to live comfortably and carry on his work as pastor under the present administration; he needs it to be at home with the student class who use Japanese freely; he needs it to know what present day thoughts rule the minds of his people. He needs English, on the other hand, as the great reservoir of Christian thought. English literature is permeated with the teachings of the Bible and no man in Asia can be a leader in the Church without being able to read English books… English is an absolute necessity.  

 

Nonetheless, Gale’s suggestions were too demanding and came too late, given that his Mission had neglected the education of Korean pastors over three decades. In fact, among 

the two hundred Korean graduates of the Presbyterian seminary from 1907 to 1919, who 

constituted the core leadership of the Korean Church, only three were college graduates, 

nine Academy graduates, and around thirty with some academic training, and “the rest had 

only the old Chinese style education and a very small number could not even read Chinese.”  As for English and Japanese literacy, “of the last five classes graduated, 

practically all of the men have some knowledge and perhaps twenty men have some 

knowledge of English.” In other words, the vast majority of the Korean pastors could read 

neither Japanese nor English. Considering that there was a serious lack of Korean textbooks 

even for elementary education, Korean students must have learned not by reading but by 

listening to their missionary teachers, inheriting their conservative religious thought, 

without being challenged by secular thoughts and ideas which were inaccessible to them 

due to limited literacy in foreign languages.  

  In any case, liberal critics urging the need of Korean education were a minority 

voice easily overshadowed by the conservative majority. Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, 

their recommendations were never put into practice. It was thus not surprising that Gordon Holdcroft (NP), one of the leading conservatives, still held strongly in the 1930s that the 

current dangers for the Korean Church and the Mission were “secular education”, “an 

attempt to promote state [shinto] religion”, “material allurement” and “communists and 

other thoughts from [the] North,” and lamented the rise of “modernism... a weakness, a treachery, a betrayal in the ranks of our own ‘Christian’ constituency.”  Simply put, 

except for the Japanese imposition of Shinto, anything that was attractive to Koreans in the 

post- March First period was what the missionaries wanted to deprive of the Korean Christians. Therefore, when Robert Greison (1868-1965, CP) casually mentioned that “our 

tenure of leadership is temporary” in Korea right after the March First, this was no more 

than lip service paid to Koreans. The true intentions of the missionary were better reflected 

in the passage below. 

 

In all our policies we should estimate in the back of our imaginations what the conditions will be like when we surrender the staff of office to our successors. We should not do thing that they [Koreans] will have to undo. We should build our foundations broad enough for Korean Christianity to build upon.   

 

We can see clearly here how the missionary perception of Koreans remained surprisingly 

intact over a dozen of years, even after their witnessing the eruption of Korean nationalism 

in the March First Movement. While they might have sympathized with the innocent 

Koreans who suffered from indiscriminate Japanese suppression, they had far less 

sympathy for the Korean desire for national independence both within and without the Church. Rather, seeing some Korean Christians “betray” the Church and participate in 

politics, they were all the more convinced of their divine role as guardian angels of the Korean Church protecting weak Korean Christians from a dangerous secular world.  

In 1934, the Presbyterian Mission celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of the Mission 

and held a series of ceremonial events in Seoul that lasted several days. As mentioned in the 

beginning of this study, the 100th anniversary of Korean Christianity in 1984 was hosted by 

the Korean Church and the missionaries were praised as benefactors of the Korean nation. However, the 50th anniversary was neither organized by nor celebrated for the Korean Church. The official title of the anniversary was the “50th Anniversary of the Korea Mission 

of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A.,” and not that of the Korean Church. The 

centrality of the mission was clearly seen in the fact that no Korean guest was invited to 

make a speech or present a paper at the opening ceremony. The only foreign guest of honor 

was a high-ranking Japanese government officer who read a congratulatory remark on 

behalf of the Governor-General Ugaki Kazushige. In order to commemorate their 

accomplishments, the Mission also published on that year, The History of the Presbyterian Mission in Korea, in which the history of the Korean Presbyterian Church was subsumed and narrated as a product of missionary efforts over a half century.  The narrative style 

itself was certainly an expression of missionary rule over the Korean Church, but the 

missionaries did not actually need such a subtle way of expressing their position vis-à-vis 

the Korean Church. In the last section of the History, the missionary-editor, Henry Rhodes (NP), asked himself how many more years the Mission should stay in Korea, given the 

remarkable growth of the Korean Church after fifty years of the Mission. His answer was 

simple and bold:  

 

The Mission believes that missionaries will be needed for some time, perhaps for another fifty years, depending upon future development.   

 

 

 

Reviewing the history of the Protestant Churches from the late nineteenth century through 

the March First Movement in 1919, it is concluded here that the Korean Church had limited 

autonomy from the foreign missionary presence. While it is true that Korean Christian 

converts and churches grew in number and spread over the country during this period, this 

does not mean that they were organized under an independent Korean Church free to 

exercise socio-political influence over society. This study has revealed that, despite its steady numerical growth, the Korean Church was subjugated to missionary power and 

restricted their participation in popular impetuses toward modern education and 

anti-colonial activism, both of which were considered unimportant and harmful by the Missions.  

  It goes without saying that those opposed to such missionary surveillance had no 

choice but to leave the Church. Those who wanted to sustain their Christian identity did not 

become apostates, but were alienated from the Church and their affiliation with the Church 

was either lost or remained nominal at best. And when such dissenters attempted to 

infiltrate the Church and mobilize people for their social or political aims, they were 

checked and ousted by Church authority, and lost their influence in the Church. As a result, Korean Christians were largely divided into two camps, the apolitical majority of loyal 

followers of the Mission on the one hand and the politicized minority of rebellious 

dissenters on the other. This division was also exacerbated by the lingering influence of 

traditional status distinctions in Korean society. The oppressed and undereducated classes 

desired the protection of the Church from the persecuting government and thus acquiesced 

in the foreign rule over the Church, while the traditional yangban elites tended to challenge 

foreign authority and replace foreign leadership with that of their own.  

  Moreover, the division of the Korean Church was widened further by Japanese 

colonial policy and especially through the gradual dissemination of public education. Although the purpose of Japanese colonial education was to make loyal Japanese subjects 

out of Koreans, it provided a new channel through which Korean Christians gained access 

to modern knowledge with which they could challenge the intellectual authority of the Mission and subvert its rule over the Korean Church. The Japanese education system, 

despite its existence as a vehicle of colonial domination, did provide an alternative source 

to knowledge that the Missions had refused to provide for Koreans in their attempts to keep 

them subservient to their intellectual and ecclesiastical authority. In other words, Japanese 

colonialism brought with it an opportunity for Korean Christian independence from the 

Mission, even as it deprived them of the opportunity for Korean national independence.    Up to the present time, scholars have consistently emphasized that anti-Japanese 

nationalism was a core value of the Korean Christian movement from its inception. However, our examination shows that there was a strong anti-missionary current within the Korean Church throughout its history that significantly affected its course of development. The tension between Korean leaders and missionaries existed prior to Japanese colonial 

rule and continued to grow even after colonization. Their disdain for missionary control was so great that they constantly looked for liberation from it and at times took advantage 

of Japanese colonialism to bring greater ecclesiastical autonomy to Koreans.  

As shown in this study, the dynamic and complicated process of Christian 

development in Korea suggests that we need to revise the conventional perspective that 

views Korean Christian history within a nationalist framework. This perspective sees the Korean Church and Japanese colonialism as constantly pitted against each other, while the 

presence of the Mission remained completely overshadowed behind the struggle of Korean 

Christian nationalists and Japanese colonialists. If we take a closer look at the nature of the Mission and its domination over Korean autonomy, it is more reasonable to view it as a 

form of colonialism, what we may refer to as “religious colonialism.” With this notion, we 

can better understand the complicated and diverse historical paths that Korean Christians 

chose to follow. The history of Christianity in Korea was not a single national history but a 

history of multiple groups of Christians, who shared the unique experience of being placed 

under and torn apart by two kinds of different colonialisms: the religious colonialism of the 

western missionaries and the socio-political colonialism of the Japanese empire. 

 

 

Bibliography 

 

Archives 

Presbyterian Historical Society Archive, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. 

Doshisha Uniersity Jinbunkagaku Kenkyūjo Archive, Kyoto, Japan 

Digital Archive, Japan Center for Asian Historical Records (http://www.jacar.go.jp/) 

 

Encyclopedia, Dictionary 

Ch’in’il inmyŏng sajŏn [Dictionary of Pro-Japanese collaborators]. Sŏul : Minjok munje  yon’guso, 2009. 

Kidokkyo taebaekkwa sajŏn [Encyclopedia of Christianity]. Sŏul: Kidok kyomunsa, 1980. 

Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. Oxford : Oxford University Press, 2005. 

. 

English-language Newspapers and Periodicals The Church at Home and Abroad 

The Foreign Missionary 

The Korea Field 

The Korea Methodist  

The Korean Mission Field 

Korean Repository  

The Missionary Review of the World 

The Independent (Korea) 

 

Korean-language Newspapers and Periodicals 

Ch'ŏngch’un, 

Chosŏn Ilbo 

Hwangsŏng Sinmun 

Kaebyŏk  

Kidok sinbo 

Kŭrisŭdo Sinmun 

Maeil Sinbo 

Sinhak Segye 

Taehan Maeil Sinbo 

Tongnip Sinmun 

 

Japanese- language Newspapers 

Fukuin shimpō 

Gokyō 

Keijō nippō  

 

Compiled Works 

The Annual Report of the Board of Foreign Missions, Methodist Episcopal Church, compiled by  Han’guk kidokkyo yŏksa yon’guso. Sŏul: 2001. 

 

The Annual report of Seoul Station, Korea Mission for the year 1898-1899. 

 

The Journals of Mattie Wilcox Noble 1892-1934, edited by Han’guk kidokkyo yŏksa 

yon’guso. Sŏul,: Han’guk kidokkyo yŏksa yon’guso, 2003. 

 

Ku han’guk oegyo munsŏ [Diplomatic papers of old Korea], compbiled by Koryŏ taehakkyo  asesa munje yon’guso. Seoul: Koryŏ taehakkyo ch’ulp’anbu, 1965. 

 

Minutes and Reports of the Annual Meeting of the Korea Mission of the Presbyterian 

  Church in the U.S.A. 

 

Naehan sŏngyosa ch’ongnam, edited by Han’gukk kidokkyo yŏksayŏn’guso. Sŏul: 

Han’gukk kidokkyo yŏksayŏn’guso,1994. 

 

Ŏndŏudŭ charyojip [Papers of Horace G. Underwood] vol.1-5, edited by Yi Man-yŏl and Oak Sung-Deuk. Sŏul: Yŏnse taehakkyo ch’ulp’anbu, 2005. 

 

Report of the Ecumenical Conference on Foreign Missions, held in Carnegie Hall and 

neighboring churches, April 21 to May 1, compiled by Religious Tract Society, American Tract Society . London,  New York :1900. 

 

San’ichi dokuritsu undō [(Judicial records of) March First Movement] vol.1-4, compiled by  Ichikawa Masaaki. Tōkyō: Hara shobō, 1983. 

 

T’onggambu munsŏ [Collected papers of Japanese Residency-General in Korea] vol.1-11,    compiled by kuksa p’yŏnch’an wiwŏnhoe. kuksa p’yŏnch’an wiwŏnhoe, 1998.  

 

Yun Ch’i-ho Ilgi [Yun Ch’i-ho’s Diary] vol.1-11, edited by Kuksa p’yŏnch’an wiwŏnhoe. 

  Sŏul: kuksa p’yŏnch’an wiwŏnho, 1974. (http://db.history.go.kr/). 

 

Missionary Publications on Korea (authored by Mission, missionaries and their affiliates) 

Allen, Horace Newton. A Chronological Index; Some of the Chief Events in the Foreign Intercourse of Korea from the Beginning of the Christian Era to the Twentieth Century. Seoul: Press of Methodist Pub. House, 1901. 

 

-------. Things Korean; a Collection of Sketches and Anecdotes, Missionary and Diplomatic. 

New York,Chicago: F. H. Revell Company, 1908. 

 

Avison, Oliver R. Memories of Life in Korea. N.p.: n.p., ca.1940. 

 

Baird, Annie Laurie Adams. Fifty Helps for the Beginner in the Use of the Korean Language. 2nd ed. N.P.: n.p., 1898. 

 

-------. Inside Views of Mission Life. Philadelphia,: Westminster Press, 1913. 

 

Baird, Richard H. William M. Baird of Korea; a Profile. Oakland, Cali: Richard H. Baird, 1968. 

 

Blair, William Newton. Gold in Korea. Topeka, Kansas: H.M. Ives & Sons, Inc., 1957. 

 

Brown, Arthur Judson. The Mastery of the Far East. New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1919. 

 

Brown, Arthur Judson, and Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. Board of Foreign Missions. Report of a Visitation of the Korea Mission of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions. New York, N.Y.: The Board, 1902. 

 

Brown, William Adams. Modern missions in the Far East, Union seminary lectures on religion in the Far East. New York: Union theological seminary, 1917. 

 

Bruen, Clara Hedberg. 40 Years in Korea N.p.: n.p., ca.1980. 

 

Clark, Charles Allen. Digest of the Presbyterian Church of Korea (Chosen). Seoul, Korea, Japan: Korean Religious Book & Tract Society, 1918. 

 

-------. The Korean Church and the Nevius Methods. New York; Chicago: Fleming H. 

Revell, 1930. 

 

-------. The Nevius Plan for Mission Work, Illustrated in Korea. Seoul, Korea: Christian Literature Society, 1937. 

 

Clark, Donald N. Living dangerously in Korea : the western experience, 1900-1950. 

Norwalk, CT: East Bridge, 2003. 

 

Commission on Relations with the Orient of the Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America, ed. The Korean Situation. New York: Commission on Relations with the Orient of the Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America, 1919. 

 

Fisher, James Earnest. Democracy and Mission Education in Korea New York: Teachers College, Columbia University, 1928. 

 

Gale, James Scarth. Korea in Transition. New York :Cincinnati: Eaton & Mains ;Jennings & Graham, 1909. 

 

Gifford, Daniel L. Everyday-Life in Korea. Chicago,New York,Toronto: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1898. 

 

Gilmore, George William. Korea from Its Capital with a Chapter on Missions. 

Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-school Work, 1892. 

 

Hall, Rosetta Sherwood, ed. The Life of Rev. William James Hall, M.D. New York: Press of Eaton & Mains, 1897. 

 

Hall, Sherwood. With Stethoscope in Asia : Korea. 1st ed. McLean, Va.: MCL Associates, 1978. 

 

Harris, Merriman C. Four Years in Japan and Korea. New York: Board of Foreign Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 1908. 

 

Huntley, Martha. Caring, growing, changing : a history of the Protestant mission in Korea. 

New York Friendship Press, 1984. 

 

-------. To Start a Work: The Foundations of Protestant Mission in Korea (1884-1919). 

Seoul: Presbyterian Church of Korea, 1987. 

 

Jennie Fowler-Willing, and Mrs. George Heber Jones. The Lure of Korea Boston: 

Woman’s Foreign Missionary Society, Methodist Episcopal Church, ca.1910 

 

Jones, George Heber, and Arthur W. Noble. The Korean Revival. New York: Board of Foreign Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church, ca.1910  

 

Lee, Helen F. MacRae Parker, and Ross Penner. A tiger on dragon mountain : the life of Rev. Duncan M. MacRae, D.D., Ma Moksa, "Duncan Korea". Charlottetown, P.E.I.: A.J. Haslam, 1993. 

 

McCune, Evelyn Becker, and Heather McCune Thompson. Michigan to Korea : Arthur Lynn Becker, 1899-1926. N.P.: Lulu, 2009. 

 

Missions étrangères de Paris. The Catholic Church in Korea. Hongkong: Impr. de la Société des missions-étrangères, 1924. 

 

Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. Korea Mission. The Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration of 

the Korean Mission of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., June 30- July 3, 1934, Seoul: Y.M.C.A. Press, 1934. 

 

Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Korea Mission. Quarto Centennial Papers Read before the 

Korea Mission of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. At the Annual Meeting in 

Pyeng Yang, August 27, 1909. Pyeng Yang, Korea: Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Korea Mission, 1909. 

 

Reid, C. F. The Touch of Christ : A Tale of Missions. Nashville, Tenn: Board of Missions, Methodist Episcopal Church, South, ca.1910. 

 

Rhodes, Harry A. and Arch Campbell. History of the Korea Mission, Presbyterian Church U. S. A. Seoul, Korea: Chosen Mission Presbyterian Church U.S. A., 1934. 

 

Rutt, Richard, ed. James Scarth Gale and his History of the Korean people. Seoul: Royal Asiatic Society Korea Branch,, 1972. 

 

Sauer, Charles August. Methodists in Korea 1930-1960. Seoul, Korea: The Christian Literature Society, 1973. 

 

Sauer, Charles August, ed. Within the Gate : Comprising the Addresses Delivered at the Fiftieth Anniversary of Korean Methodism, First Church, Seoul, Korea, June 19th-20th, 1934 Seoul: Korea Methodist News Service, 1934. 

 

Soltau, T. Stanley. Missions at the Crossroads; the Indigenous Church--a Solution for the Unfinished Tasks. Wheaton, Ill.,: Van Kampen Press, 1954. 

 

Speer, Robert. Report on the Mission in Korea The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1897. 

 

Stokes, Charles Davis. "History of Methodist Missions in Korea." Ph.D. diss, Yale University, 1947. 

 

Swinehart, M. L. Korea, Handbook of Missions: The Federal Council of Korea and the Interchurch World Movement of North America, 1920. 

 

Underwood, Horace Horton. Modern Education in Korea. New York: International press, 1926. 

 

Underwood, Lillias H. Fifteen Years among the Top-Knots; or, Life in Korea. Boston, New York: American tract society, 1904. 

 

-------. Underwood of Korea. New York, London [etc.]: Fleming H. Revell company, 1918. 

 

Van Buskirk, James Dale. Korea, Land of the Dawn. New York,: Missionary Education Movement of the United States and Canada, 1931. 

 

 

Other Secondary Sources 

Baldwin, Frank P. "Missionaries and the March First Movement: Can Moral Men Be Neutral?" In Korea under Japanese colonial rule : studies of the policy and techniques of Japanese colonialism edited by Andrew C. Nahm. Kalamazoo: Center for Korean Studies, Institute of International and Area Studies, Western Michigan University, 1973. 

 

Byun Chang Uk. "Comity Agreement between Missions in Korea from 1884 to 1910: The Ambiguities of Ecumenicity and Denominationalism." Ph.D diss., Princeton Theological Seminary, 2003. 

 

Ch'a Chae-myong, ed. Chosŏn yesugyo changnohoe sagi [Annul of the Korean Presbyterian Church]. Kyŏngsŏng [Seoul]: Sinmunan kyhoedang, 1928. 

 

Chandra, Vipan. Imperialism, resistance, and reform in late nineteenth-century Korea : 

enlightenment and the Independence Club. Vol. 13. Berkeley: Center for Korean Studies, Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California, Berkeley, 1988. 

 

Cho Kwang. "Chosŏn Government’s Measures against Catholicism." In The founding of Catholic tradition in Korea, edited by Yu Chai-Shin., Fremont, California: Asian Humanities Press, 2004. 

 

-------. "Chosŏn hugi ch’ŏnjugyo chidoch’ŭng ŭi t’ŭksŏng[Features of Catholic leaders in the late Chosŏn period]." Yŏksa hakpo 105 (1985) : 36-66. 

 

-------. "Chosŏn hugi ch’ŏnjugyodo ŭi ilsang saenghwal [Everyday life of Catholics during the late Chosŏn period]." in Chosŏn hugi sahoe wa ch’ŏnjugyo: kyŏngin munhwa sa, 2010. 

 

-------. Chosŏn hugi ch’ŏnjugyosa yŏn’gu ŭi kich’o [Basic Study on Catholicism in the late Chosŏn period]. Seoul: kyŏngin munhwa sa, 2010. 

 

Ch'oe Sŏk-u. "Hanbul choyak kwa singyo chayu [Franco-Korean treaty and freedom of religion]." Sahak Yŏn'gu, no. 21 (1969): 209-30. 

 

Chŏn T'aekpu. "3.1 undong ŭi chongsin kwa kŭpaegyŏng [Spirit and background of the March First Movement]." Kidokkyo Sasang 22, no. 3 (1978): 118-24. 

 

-------. Ingan Sin Hŭng-u [Biography of Sin Hŭng-u]. Sŏul: Kidokkyo Sŏhoe 1971. 

 

-------. "Samil ndong ŭi kyohoesa chŏk ŭimi [Significance of March First Movement from a church history perspective]." Kidokkyo Sasang 163 (1972): 42-49. 

 

Chŏng In-gwa, ed. Yasogyo changnohoe yŏngam. Keijō: Chosŏn yasogyo changnohoe ch’onghoe, 1940. 

Chu Yo-han. An Tosan chŏnsŏ [Complete papers of An Ch’ang-ho]. Sŏul Samjungdang, 1990. 

 

Chung, Henry. Korean treaties. New York: H.S. Nichols, 1919. 

 

Clark, Donald N. ""Surely God Will Work Out Their Salvation": Protestant Missionaries in the March First Movement." Korean Studies 13 (1989): 42-75. 

 

Davies, Daniel M. The life and thought of Henry Gerhard Appenzeller. Lewiston, N.Y.: E. 

Mellen Press, 1988. 

 

Duncan, John. "Proto-nationalism in Premodern Korea." In Perspectives on Korea, edited by Lee Sang Oak and Park Duk-Soo. Sydney :Honolulu, Hawaii: Wild Peony ;international distribution by University of Hawaii Press, 1998. 

 

Eckert, Carter J. Offspring of empire : the Koch'ang Kims and the colonial origins of Korean capitalism, 1876-1945, Korean studies of the Henry M. Jackson School of International Studies. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1991. 

 

Han Sŏk-hŭi. Nihon no Chōsen shihai to shūkyō seisaku [Japanese rule in Korea and religious policy]. Vol. 6. Tōkyō: Miraisha, 1988. 

 

Hanʾguk kidokkyo 100-chunyŏn kinyŏm saŏp hyŏbŭihoe. Hanʾguk kidokkyo 100-chunyŏn kinyŏm saŏp ch’ongnam [Comprehensive list of celebration events in the 100th anniversary of Korean Christianity]. Sŏul: Poisŭsa 1987. 

 

Hanʾguk kidokkyosa yŏn'guhoe. Hanʾguk kidokkyo ŭi yŏksa [History of Korean Christianity] vol.1-2. Sŏul: Kidok kyomunsa, 1989-1990. 

 

Hanʾguk kidokkyo yŏksahakhoe. Hanʾguk kidokkyo ŭi yŏksa 3. Sŏul: Hanʾguk kidokkyo yŏksa yŏn'guso, 2009. 

Harrington, Fred Harvey. God, mammon, and the Japanese. Madison, Wis.,: The University of Wisconsin press, 1944. 

 

Ijŏk ch’ŭngmyŏng [Evidence of Miracles], N.P: Chosŏn yaso kyoso hoe, 1921.  

 

Iinuma Jirō, and Han Sŏkki. Nihon teikoku shugi ka no chōsen dendō [Korea Mission under Japanese Imperialism], Tokyo: Nihon kirisutokyōdan shuppankyoku, 1985. 

 

Jaisohn, Philip, and Sŏn-pʻyo Hong. My days in Korea and other essays. Sŏul: Institute for Modern Korean Studies, Yonsei University, 1999. 

 

Kang Sil-lyong. "Han'gugin kidokkyoindŭl ŭi kumiai kyohoe hyŏmnyŏk kwa kaip ŭi kwanhan Ilkoch'al [A study on the motives of Korean Christians who joined and collaborated with the Japanese Congregational Church]." Han'guk kidokkyo yŏksa yŏng'guso sosik 22 (1995): 50-60. 

 

Kang, Wi Jo. Religion and politics in Korea under the Japanese rule. Lewiston, N.Y.: E. 

Mellen Press, 1987. 

 

Kil Chin-gyŏng. Yŏnggye Kil Sŏn-ju [Biography of Kil-Sŏn-ju]. Sŏul: Chongno Sŏjŏk 1980. 

 

Kim In-su. Protestants and the formation of modern Korean nationalism, 1885-1920 : a study of the contributions of Horace G. Underwood and Sun Chu Kil. New York: P. 

Lang, 1996. 

 

Kim Chang-ho. Chosŏn kidokyohoe sosa [Digest history of Korean Christian Church].  

Keijō: Chosŏn kidokyohoe, 1941. 

 

Kim Chang-mun, and Chung Jae-sun. Catholic Korea:. Seoul: St. Joseph Publishing co., 1984. 

Kim Kwŏn-jŏng. "Ch’ogi kidokkyo suyong kwa sahoe pyŏndong [Reception of early Christianity and social changes]." In Han’guk sahak nonch'ŏng: Hong Kyŏng-man kyosu chŏngnyŏn kinyŏm nonch’ong: Hong Kyŏng-man kyosu chŏngnyŏn kinyŏm nonch’ong kanhaeng wiwŏnhoe, 2002. 

 

Kim Myŏng-gu. Wŏlnam Yi Sang-je ŭi kidokkyo sahoe undong kwa sasang [Yi Sang-je’s social movement and philosophy]. Sŏul: Simin munhwa, 2003. 

 

Kim San, and Nym Wales. Song of Ariran : a Korean Communist in the Chinese revolution. 

San Francisco: Ramparts Press, 1972. 

 

Kim Shin. "Christianity and Korean nationalism, 1884-1945: A missiological perspective." Fuller Theological Seminary, Ph.D. Diss., 2008. 

 

Kim To-t'ae. Namgang Yi Sŭng-hun chon [Biography of Yi Sŭng-hun]. Seoul: Munʾgyosa, 1950. 

 

Kim Yang Sŏn. "Samil undong kwa kidokkyohoe [March First Movement and 

Christianity]." In Samil undong 50-chunyŏn kinŏym nonjip, edited by Ko Chae-uk, 235-70. Seoul: Tonga Ilbosa,1969. 

 

Komatsu Midori. Chōsen heigō no rimen [Other side of Korean Annexation]. Tokyo: 

Chūgaishinronsha, 1920. 

 

Kŭm Chang-t’ae. "The Doctrinial Disputes between Confucianism and Western Thought in the Late Chosŏn Period." In The founding of Catholic tradition in Korea, edited by Yu Chai-Shin. Fermont, California: Asian Humanities Press, 2004. 

 

Kurata Masahiko. Tennōsei to Kankoku Kirisutokyō [Emperor system and Korean Chrisitianity]. Tōkyō: Shinkyō Shuppansha, 1991. 

 

Lee, Jong Hyeong. "Samuel Austin Moffett: His Life and Work in the Development of the Presbyterian Church of Korea 1890-1936." Union Theological Seminary, Ph.D. 

Diss, 1983. 

 

Lee, Timothy S. Born again : evangelicalism in Korea. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 2010. 

 

Loomis, Clara Denison. Henry Loomis, friend of the East. New York, Chicago: F. H. 

Revell company, 1923. 

 

Mayers, William Frederick. Treaties between the Empire of China and foreign powers. 

Shanghai: North-China Herald Office, 1902. 

 

McKenzie, Fred A. The tragedy of Korea. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1908. 

 

Min Kyŏng bae. Kankoku kirisuto kyōkai shi [History of Korean Christian Church]. Tokyo: 

Shinkyō Shuppansha, 1981. 

 

-------. Han'guk kidok kyohoesa [History of Korean Christian Church]. Sŏul: Taehan Kidokkyoso hoe, 1972. 

 

-------. Han'guk kidok kyohoesa [History of Korean Christian Church] Revised ed. Sŏul : 

Yŏnse Taehakkyo Ch'ulp'anbu, 1993. 

 

-------. Sŏul YMCA undong 100-yŏnsa : 1903-2003 [Centennial history of Seoul YMCA]. 

Sŏul: Sŏul YMCA, 2004. 

 

Min Kyoung Bae [Min Kyŏng bae]. A History of Christian Churches in Korea. Seoul: 

Yonsei University Press, 2005.  

 

Moffett, Samuel H. "The Independence Movement and Missionaries." Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society, Korean Branch 54 (1979): 13-32. 

 

Moon Yumi. "The Populist Contest: The Ilchinhoe Movement and the Japanese 

Colonization of Korea, 1896-1910." Harvard University, Ph.D. Diss., 2005. 

 

Mortimore, Doretha Ellen. "Dr. Frank W. Schofield and the Korean National Consciousness." in Korea's response to Japan : the colonial period 1910-1945, edited by C. I. Eugene Kim and Doretha Ellen Mortimore. Kalamazoo, Mich.: 

Center for Korean Studies, Western Michigan University, 1975. 

 

Myodong kyohoesa 80-chunyŏn p'yŏnch’an wiwŏnhoe [80-years history of Myodong Church]. Myodong kyohoe 80-nyŏnsa Sŏul: Myodong kyohoe, 1990. 

 

Nakarai, Kiyoshi. Relations between the Government and Christianity in Chosen. Keijō: 

Government-General of Chosen, 1921. 

 

Namgang munhwa chaedan. Namgang Yi Sŭng-hun kwa minjok undong [Yi Sŭng-hun and nationalist movement]. Sŏul: Namgang Munhwa Chaedan Chʻulpʻanbu 1988. 

 

Osan chunghak-kodŭng hakkyo. Osan 80-nyŏnsa [80 years history of Osan School]. Sŏul: 

Osan chunghak-kodŭng hakkyo, 1987. 

 

Paek Nak-chun. The history of protestant missions in Korea 1832-1910, Series of Reprints of Western books on Korea, 6. Seoul,: Yonsei Univ. Press, 1970. 

 

Palais, James B. "A Search for Korean Uniqueness." Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 55, no. 2 (1995): 409-425. 

 

Park, Chung-shin. Protestantism and politics in Korea. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003. 

 

Ryu Taeyŏng. Ch’ogi miguk sŏngyosa yŏn’gu [A study on early American missionaries]. 

Sŏul: Han’guk kidokkyosa yŏn’guso, 2001. 

 

-------. "Wŏlliŏm Reinoljŭ ŭi namchangnogyo paegyŏng kwa sŏngyŏng pŏnyŏk saop [William Reynolds’ Southern Presbyterian background and his Bible translation work]." Han'guk kidokkyo yŏksa, no. 33 (2010): 5-34. 

 

Sawa Masahiko. Mikan Chōsen Kirisutokyōshi [Incomplete Korean Christian history]. 

Tōkyō Nihon Kirisutokyōdan Shuppankyoku, 1991. 

 

-------. Nanpoku Chōsen Kirisutokyōshi [Christian history of North and South Kroea]. 

Tokyo: Nihon Kiristuo Kyōdan Shuppankyoku, 1985. 

 

Schlesinger, Arthur Jr. "The Missionary Enterprise and Theories of Imperialism." In The missionary enterprise in China and America, edited by John King Fairbank, 442. 

Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1974. 

 

Schmid, Andre. Korea between empires, 1895-1919, Studies of the East Asian Institute. 

New York: Columbia University Press, 2002. 

 

Shin, Gi-Wook. Ethnic nationalism in Korea : genealogy, politics, and legacy, Studies of the Walter H. Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2006. 

 

Shin Ki-Young. "Christianity and nation-building in Korea, 1885-1945." Arizona State University, Ph.D. Diss., 1993  

 

Sŏ Chŏng-min. Chejungwŏn kwa ch’ogi Hanʼguk Kidokkyo [Chejungwon and early Korean Christianity]. Sŏul:Yŏnse Taehakkyo Chʻulpʻanbu, 2003. 

 

Suzuki, Lester. Life of Bishop Merriman Colbert Harris, Japan’s Most Beloved Caucasian American: Unpublished Manuscript, ca,1990 

 

Taehan yesugyo changnohoe namdaemu kyohoe. Namdaemun Kyohoesa 1885-2008 [History of Namdaemun Church] Seoul: Namdaemun Kyohoe,  2008. 

 

Taehan yesugyo changnohoe saemunan kyohoe yŏksa p’yŏngch’ang wiwonhoe. Saemunan Kyohoe 100 nyŏnsa [Centennial history of Saemunan Church]. Seoul: Taehan yesugyo changnohoe Saemunan kyohoe yŏksa p’yŏngch’ang wiwonhoe, 1987. 

 

Tōkanfu. "Tōkanfu tōkei nenpō." N.P.: Tōkanfu 1906. 

 

Tosan Kinyŏm Saŏphoe. Tosan An Ch'ang-ho [Biography of An Ch’ang-ho]. Sŏul: T'aegŭk sŏgwan, 1947. 

 

Watase Tsuneyoshi. Hizume no ato . Tokyo: Keiseisha Shoten, 1914. 

 

Wells, Kenneth M. New God, New Nation : Protestants and Self-Reconstruction 

Nationalism in Korea, 1896-1937. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1990. 

 

Yi Kwang-su. "Na ŭi kyowŏn saenghwal [My life as a teacher]." In Namgang Yi Sŭnghun kwa minjok undong, edited by Namgang munhwa chaedan: Namgang munhwa chaedan ch’ulp’anbu, 1988. 

 

Yi Man-yŏl. Han'guk Kidokkyo munhwa undongsa [Korean Christians’ cultural movement]. 

Sŏul: Taehan Kidokkyo Chʻulpʻansa, 1987. 

 

Yi Man-yŏl ed. Hang̕uk kidokkyo wa minjok ŭisik [Korean Christianity and nationalism]. 

Sŏul: Chisik Sanŏpsa 1991. 

 

Yi Man-yŏl ed. Hang̕uk kidokkyo wa minjok undong [Korean Christianity and nationalist movement]. Sŏul: Posŏng 1986. 

 

Yi Nŭng-hwa. Chosŏn kidokkyo kŭp oegyo sa [Korean Christianity and diplomatic history]. 

Kyŏngsŏng Chosŏn Kidokkyo Chʻangmunsa 1928. 

 

Yi Sŏng-jŏn. Amerikajin senkyōshi to Chōsen no kindai : Misshonsukūru no seisei to shokuminchika no kattō [American missionaries and Korean Modernity]. Tōkyō: 

Shakai Hyōronsha, 2006. 

 

Yi Tŏk-chu. Hanguk T’och’ak kyohoe hyŏngsŏngsa yŏn’gu [A study on indigenized Korean Church]. Hanguk kidokyyo yŏksa yŏn’guso, 2001. 

 

Yi Wŏn-sun. "Chosŏn malgi sahoe ŭi tae sŏgyo munje yŏn'gu [Problems about counter-Catholicism in the late Chosŏn period] ." yŏksa kyoyuk 2 (1973). 

 

Yŏndong kyohoe, ed. Yŏndong Kyohoe 100-Yŏnsa 1894-1994 [Centennial history of Yŏndong Church]. Seoul: Yŏndong kyohoe, 1995. 

 

Yu Hong-nyŏl. Hanʾguk ŭi ch’ŏnjugyosa [History of Catholicism in Korea]. Sŏul: K'at'ollik ch'ulp'ansa 1990. 

 

Yu Tong-sik. Hanʾguk kamni kyohoe ŭi yŏksa : 1884-1992 [History of Korean Methodist Church] vol.1-2. Sŏul: Kidokkyo Taehan Kamnihoe, 1994. 

 

Yun Kyŏng-no. 105-in sakŏn kwa sinminhoe yŏn'gu [A study on 105-in Incident and sinminhoe]. Sŏul: Ilchisa, 1990.