Korean grand narratives: the problem of ideology

Courtesy of Memi Beltrame

By David A. Tizzard

Much of modern politics and discourse has become a question of morality. When people vote, they are not simply expressing a preference over economic policy or the correct distribution of limited resources. Instead they are seen as taking a side in a Manichean battle of good versus evil. This environment has been fostered by social media and is reinforced daily by ideologues on the right and left.

One of the reasons it has so successfully taken hold is because when things are a moral question, there is a simple and easy answer that doesn't require any deep contemplation or thought. There is no cognitive dissonance. There is no appreciation that most situations presented to us are highly complex and with no obvious answer. A more realistic perspective, however, would be that the world is, for the most part, gray. It is made up of squiggly lines that overlap and bleed into each other without clear demarcation. Moreover, there is no answer book nor any set procedure other than what we see as best for the current situation.

And there's the rub. The policy or idea that some people consider best will never be perfect. It will also have its weaknesses. Moreover, the policy that has been rejected will, simultaneously, also have its various strengths and merits. Why particular people favor certain approaches over the other might sometimes have little to do with the actual theory itself but rather their own upbringing, identity, or life experiences. Why, for example, do many North Korea defectors (or "freedom seekers" as some prefer to be called) seem to find a home in conservative parties and among right-wing associations, whether in South Korea, the United States or the United Kingdom? Is it because of something inherent in the views held by the right? Or is it more likely that the personal experiences of those who have lived, struggled, and then escaped North Korea have understandably affected how they now view the world?

The same applies to me. To you. And to every other member of South Korea. We are a collection of experiences, fractured memories, suppressed fears, fragmented personalities, meaningful connections, genuine love and lost dreams. These are all unique to us as individuals. We are, in a psychological sense, snowflakes. And each of us will subsequently come to rest on a set of ideas about how the world should operate in terms of finance, culture, gender and the depth of government control in our lives. It is a challenge to one's very sense of being, a deep existential threat, to consider that our ideas about certain things might have flaws or there might be other approaches with strengths ours do not possess.

In academia and among those with training in various fields such as economics, international relations, and sociology, the strengths and weaknesses of particular approaches, as well as their practical application in a living breathing context, can be quite freely discussed. The idea of "just asking questions" is generally welcome. However, when the conversation enters the public realm, it is no longer then a question of comparing various theories but instead simply a question of morality.

Now, the candidate or party with whom we disagree, despite being informed and educated by their own experiences, have obviously based their policies on a deep-rooted malevolence. To most, there is no substance or grounding to the decision other than to make people suffer in order that they might bring about either a communist revolution in Korea or the selling-out of the people's hard fought democracy and freedom to either Japan or the United States.

The conclusion to all of this should not be that we hand over sole responsibility to the academics. This is not an elitist tirade against those who have not had the good fortune or opportunity to experience higher education. The value of a country should be found in its people: in all people equally irrespective of class, gender, race, or political stance. Therefore, one aim might be to help foster a world in which we all confront our own biases and prejudices. To question why we so passionately and emotionally favor certain policies and ideas and vehemently reject others. And we do that not by demanding others do it first, but by doing it to ourselves.

That being said, I would always like to ask political candidates and those seeking power to speak on what they think their opponents' strengths are. And what do they think are the weaknesses of their own position in terms of economy and such forth. That would make for a far more interesting presidential debate, press conference, or discussion than we've come to expect of late. Recently, it's been either mudslinging or personal trumpet blowing and self-aggrandizement.

Over the past five years, I have no doubt that President Moon has acted in the best interests of this country and done his best to counter the skyrocketing housing prices, to alleviate the suffering felt by the elderly experiencing the OECD's highest poverty rates, to help the unemployed and lower classes find greater economic security by raising the minimum wage, to counter rising mental health problems and the suicide rate by reducing working hours, to reverse the world's lowest birthrate, to make South Korea a place of greater gender equality, and to reduce the corruption and collusion between government and big business. The president has also attempted to bring peace to the Korean Peninsula through engagement with Pyongyang and meetings with Chairman Kim Jong-un.

But where are we now on all those issues? Have we gone forward or backward? And not just in our minds but according to the actual data we can obtain through study, analysis, and brain breaking time spent at our desks. What have the policies enacted taught us? What can we learn? We can certainly gain from them because we can see what effect they have had on the real lives of those of us that inhabit the Korean Peninsula. We can then adjust and alter the next policies accordingly. It's not a case of morality. It's not a case of political allegiance or ideology. It's about looking at the results achieved and seeing how they can be improved going forward. After all, that's what we want. Isn't it?

Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. 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. The views expressed in the article are the author's own and do not reflect the editorial direction of The Korea Times.