![]() |
Courtesy of Amika San |
![]() |
Yesterday, my students at Hanyang University debated the merits of Frantz Fanon's 1961 text, "The Wretched of the Earth." The book remains a cornerstone of revolutionary thought and demand for action, bringing with it the claim that, "There comes a time when silence becomes dishonesty."
Oppression created by violence can only be removed by violence, it asserts. Thus, the book calls for the violent overthrow of colonial regimes in order to remove the false consciousness and psychological trauma created by compartmentalized societies. Moreover, the violence once enacted will create new human natures, shedding the ghosts of the past and charting a new course of man beyond the familiar bipolarity of trumpets and flag-waving created by capitalism and socialism. The ideas are not for everyone obviously.
Naturally, the conversation turned to Japan's colonization of Korea. Had the latter overthrown its colonizers through violent struggle and, importantly, given power to the masses rather than the middle-class nationalists who were quick to adopt the culture, and practices of the colonizers, would this have fundamentally changed the Korean character? The debate was intense but respectful. The youth of this nation are well-read, opinionated, and quick to form opinions that will surprise anyone who approaches them with stereotypes or cliches.
As we finished at midday, our discussion was brought into stark relief by news that the former Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe had been assassinated. Our conversation seemed both suddenly far too real and also hugely inconsequential when placed next to the gravitas of what had just taken place. It's one thing to talk theoretically about the use of violence vis-a-vis colonial rule and decolonization. It's another thing entirely to hear gun shots fired on the street and find world leaders, whatever one might think of them, meet their end in a tragic and far too public manner.
And thus one sits and contemplates. Was the course material appropriate? Will it have affected the students' perception of what had just taken place? Why is the world so full of moments like this that make you question the order and nature of things?
Doing so over coffee, the tweets rolled in on the timeline. People expressed shock and disbelief. World leaders posted photos of themselves with Abe. Tankies and leftists rejoiced publicly in a man's passing. And people shared photos of Inejir? Asanuma, pretending they hadn't just had to google how to spell his name correctly.
While details were emerging and confirmation was being sought, people began questioning where the tweet was from the South Korean President Yoon Seok-yeol and his administration. Why hadn't he said anything? Why was he also not immediately sharing his thoughts on this situation? The public―or at least Twitter―demanded answers and saw the inaction, the failure to tweet or announce something, as a sign of culpability. It played perfectly into whatever narratives people already held about the man. This latest behavior was just another perfect example of why X is Z.
Confirmation bias is a helluva drug.
I have no doubt that the Korean government and various diplomats were in contact with people in Japan. They were probably trying to offer support. They were also likely trying to wait until the details were known before making a statement. I mean, that's what I would do. But then again, I don't tweet every thought I have and I don't make a point of responding to every situation as soon as it happens. Things change and unfold. In certain situations, sensitivity and appropriate wording are required. Sometimes, one has to get things right internally before sharing them externally.
And so this observation of Twitter demanding comments from the South Korean Presidential office, which of course eventually came once the details and Abe's passing had been confirmed, was about a larger malaise which seems to affect us. We are too quick to demand answers but too slow to think. We seek immediately to criticize and forget to ever contemplate. We are lost retweeting and found never rethinking.
Figures such as Trump have made people desperate for Twitter. It's now seen by some as the appropriate platform for political discourse. If it didn't happen on Twitter, it didn't happen. This, however, gives us governments run by populists and littered with scandals rather than those gilded with competence and clarity. When we bemoan the lack of expertise and decency in our democratic institutions, we would be well to consider that perhaps it is our own desire and gnashing of teeth that has fertilized the ground for these characters to grow.
I know that many Ambassadors and members of cabinets are required to keep social media accounts and tweet with some regularity. I wonder, however, who will be the first president to say, "I'm not going to use social media. I'm going to try and run the country as best I can." Will such a person ever appear in a democracy? Or are we now forever lost in a digital timeline, pushed closer towards virtual and inhumane communication, with all its demands of immediacy and culpability?
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.