In a recent lecture on Korean characteristics and values, Professor Sam Richards suggested that a Korean protest is like going to a baseball game. They are organized. Safe. People hold up placards and signs. There are cheers and chants. The crowd stands up and sits down at regular intervals. There are candles held in memory of others. Old and young mingle. There's food available for those in attendance. Basically, it's all somewhat PG 13. You could take your kid to a Korean protest…and some actually do. It's about being present and being seen rather than an act of violence. Korean people might be angry but this does not generally manifest in violence against the state. Moreover, a Korean protest is very different from what we see in downtown Paris or across American university campuses.
Having been to a few Korean protests over the decades, I was inclined to agree with this kind of description. Yes, I've seen some old men spit angrily as they shout at a crowd and also heard obscenities coming out of women's mouths that would make a sailor blush. I've seen people wave American and even Jewish flags for seemingly no reason. But I wasn't here during the mid-to-late 1990s when Molotov cocktails were used with such frequency the government had to step in and do something. In 1997, 69,160 fire bombs were thrown, many of them coming amid protests about the laid-off Daewoo Motor workers and Korean Confederation of Trade Unionists. I also wasn't here in the late 1980s when the middle class, Christians, journalists, feminists and students helped bring democracy to the country. I was absent in the early 1960s when my friend Dr. Kim Kyung-jin was shot in the arm with a rifle as protests brought down the first South Korean president during the April Revolution. And in the Joseon Dynasty, a peasant-based movement nearly toppled the then-fragile monarchy and sparked the First Sino-Japanese War in 1894.
Perhaps the most important protest in Korean memory is that which took place during Japanese colonization. The March First Movement broke out in 1919 and is still celebrated to this day, etched in the public consciousness with images of a young woman running while waving a Korean flag. “Daehan minguk manse” is the cry. Long live Korea! Although the protest did not end Japanese colonization, it changed the nature of policies and rule, solidified Korean national conscious, and possibly helped inspire parts of China's May Fourth Movement.
Protests in Korea have generally become more sanitized over the decades. This is not to say everything is safe: The “yongyeok” (young hired thugs) carried out violence against the workers of Noryangjin fish market when seeking the gentrification of the location. Kim Dong-won also made an excellent documentary called the “Sanggye-dong Olympics” which recorded the struggles of evictees who lost their homes as a result of forced relocation. But in general the rifles and slaughter have slowly been replaced by placards and chants. Tear gas has given way to social media posts. And this is generally seen as a good thing. While it might be hard to get past Seoul Station or Gwanghwamun when political groups take to the streets, you generally don't fear for your safety or worry about your children.
The university
That is why the recent protests at various women's universities, including the one at which I work, have caused somewhat of a stir. Not necessarily because of the issues at hand (though of course they are very important), but because of the tactics employed. We are not seeing acts of civil disobedience. It is not necessarily peaceful solidarity either. Instead it is aggressive, assertive and unapologetic action. Voices demanded to be heard.
The buildings are covered in graffiti, spray paint, and paper. The roads have been painted on. The walls of the car park are filled with spray-painted messages. Statements in Korean, English and Chinese make sure there is no ambiguity or misunderstanding of the message. And it's unapologetically visible. Parents, young school children and taxi drivers all come in the main gate of the university. When they do, they are greeted with this vision of anger. The university told the students to stop. The students said no. Unafraid. Determined to bring about the result they desired. And it seems they were successful. We have to wait and see what happens next. Nevertheless, there are victims. And those victims should be protected and those guilty should receive an appropriate punishment.
Diversity of thought
I received one email from a student asking me who is financially responsible for things that are damaged during a protest. The assumption from them was that in the United States, the university would bear the cost of all repairs and this made them angry that here in Korea the students were being asked to do so. I had to reply that I didn't know. I'm not American! But who should bear the cost? Obviously the victim(s) should not be asked to. And what happens to all the paint and graffiti that has covered the buildings?
Will it be the responsibility of elderly cleaning ladies and groundsmen who work on campus? Graffiti removal can be a nightmare, particularly if it is not done quickly. Will it be a professional company that is required to come in and do the work? How expensive will it be? Can it actually be done? Does the university pay for it? Using what money – the tuition of other students?
We discussed the protests in class. I taught students about the history of Korean protests, made them watch a video comparing protest culture across countries, and then asked them to explore the ideas in small groups. Rather than tell students my own views on the protest and use the time as a soapbox, I created an environment for them to feel safe talking about things. After all, it's their university.
What was interesting was that there were many students who were absolutely in favour of the protests. They vocally supported what was happening on campus and even went to Nowon Police Station to stage a protest there as well. Many looked on them with respect. Some said that they were in support of the victims and how things were initially proceeding but thought things had ultimately gone too far and the graffiti began to resemble people having fun rather than any deep political or legal concerns. Another group said that the feminism movement was not really their style as it was too divisive.
I listened to them all, encouraged by the diversity of thought they demonstrated. I gathered that while many were on the same side in wanting a safe and just society for everyone, there were many different opinions on how best to achieve that. Once again, I look upon Korea and its people with wonder and admiration. They never cease to surprise me and I hold out great hope for its future. Because no matter what happens, I'm sure there'll be some protests.
David A. Tizzard has a doctorate in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. He is a social-cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the "Korea Deconstructed" podcast, which can be found online. He can be reached at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.