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Courtesy of Nathan Dumlao |
By David Tizzard
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History matters. Particular to us as humans because the passage of time is often the thing that signals the end of our existence. Regardless of how many protein shakes we drink or morning jogs we go on, it catches up with us all whether we like it or not. We are all gripped by this flow. We all swim in this river.
History doesn't repeat itself but it rhymes. And it is our job to understand these rhythms and melodies. To hear the hymns of the Vedas, the symphony of Beethoven, and the sorrow of pansori. History strengthens our analysis and interpretation of the present. It gives us a deeper understanding of the issues. A framework through which we can move.
Thus it takes on great importance not only to our own lives but also when we want to understand the lives of others. Lee Han-yeol was 20 when he was fatally struck by a tear gas canister; An Jung-geun was 30 when he was executed for assassinating Ito Hirobumi; Syngman Rhee was 73 when he became South Korea's first president. Not only are these stories made more comprehensible by knowing these people's ages, knowing that they happened in 1987, 1948, and 1910 makes them truly come alive because context is important.
This week, I was asked by various international news outlets to comment on BTS' upcoming mandatory military service. Rather than simply repeat observations about contemporary public opinion, the current law, or Jin's age and upcoming single, I tried to explain the context of these decisions. Why it was a topic of discussion in the first place. After all, despite how universe-bending the group might appear, they have not yet managed to escape the chronological shackles around our souls.
This doesn't just help us understand Korea (and BTS). More importantly, it helps us understand how Korean people see Korea. It rewards us with insight into numbers such as 1392, 1988, and 2002. It illuminates the meaning of candles, morning dew, yellow ribbons, and letters from a private.
To explain BTS' military service we need to understand the division of the country, the civil war, the conflict that ended with neither peace nor victory but permanent separation and a decades-long cold war that divides families. We also need to understand the government in Pyongyang: their threats, their friendship, and the missiles that travel ever more frequently into the East Sea.
We cannot, and probably should not, write about feminism in Korea without being aware of the jang-ot and the observations made by many early visitors to the country about the absence of women in late Joseon society. We should remind ourselves that women were given the vote in 1948 rather than allowing them to fight for it. To understand topics of discrimination we should be aware of the Tangun myth, the work of Shin Chae-ho, and the ethno-nationalism that has been a source of much of Korea's success (and subsequent troubles). To come to grips with mental health issues we must be cognizant of the decades of dictatorship, the focus on nolyuk (effort) as a means of social mobility. We must see the effects of Confucianism and how they influence relationships and the concept of individualism.
Korea is a fascinating country with a history that is more remarkable than a summer blockbuster, particularly when considering the past 120-odd years. It is a very heart-warming development that more and more people have become aware of this land, its people, its color, its songs, and its heroes. It is pleasing to see that many have developed a great affinity for the members of various pop groups and dramas, seeing them as closer than their own family at times.
But the country is real. It is here. And its people live through time. We cannot expect everyone to have a deep understanding of the complexities of Korean history, and I haven't sought to explain them all during this piece. Yet we should always be aware of the importance of time and the weight of the past for it sits heavily on our shoulders, particularly here in Korea. And, as the world has suddenly become aware of, even on Jin and his six mates.
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.