By Choi Yearn-hong

Washington, D.C. ― American politics is losing its civility in language. Barack Obama, a popular president elected by the American voters with the largest margin in 20 years, is being criticized as a black Hitler and a liar by Republican Party members about his health care reform.

Political cartoons show Obama as a black vampire. I can accept the criticism saying that Obama's health care reform is a socialist idea. Many American people are sick and tired of this kind of uncivil rhetoric.

However, this kind of talk is tame compared to Korean political rhetoric. Korean political language has been even more vicious. More than that, violence and violation of law and order are condoned and encouraged by opposition party members in Korea.

From time to time, American political discourse seems sour, angry, even dangerous; uglier than it has ever been. President George W. Bush was never depicted as Hitler during his unpopular eight-year presidency.

Raucous rhetoric against presidential power is a tool of both ends of the political spectrum, of course, most vociferously used by the party out of power. This is understandable!

But I did not hear such vicious rhetoric during the reign of Bush. I hear much more, even violent confrontations, in Korean politics.

``In a free and Republican government, you cannot restrain the voice of the multitude. Everyman will speak as he thinks,'' wrote the first U.S. President George Washington.

I do not know whether or not modern men and women speak before appropriately thinking of what they are about to convey. This is a major and fatal weakness of democracy. (Rude or vicious rhetoric is one thing.)

``From time to time, I go back to find the golden age of civility,'' said Michael Barone, lead author of the authoritative Almanac of American Politics, ``and it has proved elusive.'' A supporter of Thomas Jefferson once called his political rival John Adams ``a hideously hermaphroditical character.''

First Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton called Vice President Aaron Burr ``bankrupt by redemption except by the plunder of his country,'' an attack so heinous that the men dueled, and Hamilton died in the first part of American political history. Hamilton was truly one of America's great founding fathers as a thinker.

Go through U.S. history and the noise and heat in public political discourse have always been there, rising with the cycles of economic distress, immigration and cultural upheaval ― illustrated in recent decades by the contentious judicial confirmation fights.

The spread of the Internet in the mid-1990s, along with the rise of conservative talk radio and 24-hour cable news programming in modern technological societies are producing uncivil rhetoric.

The Internet has offered an opportunity to almost everyone smart or dumb to be a great commentator. Some comments are gentle. Some are vicious.

Everybody wants to grab the bullhorn and hold it.

The level of participation is a good thing for a healthy democracy, but the quality of participation needs to be monitored.

Some scholars are tolerating uncivil rhetoric, because rhetoric is just rhetoric, not physically dangerous or a violent threat to law and order. However, uncivil rhetoric may lead society to become uncivil. Vicious rhetoric may lead to violence and the violation of law and order. This is the case in Korean politics.

"Sijo" (a type of Korean poetry) in the 14th century can be represented by two political enemies. Yi Bang-won ― son of Yi Seong-gye ― staged a coup against the Goryo king, and tested Chong Mong-ju's mind with sijo.

I can see the beauty and dignity of Korean poetry in revolutionary politics. After the exchanges of their poems, Yi assassinated Chong, who was a scholar and minister faithful to the Goryo monarch. Chong had known he could be killed by Yi (1337-1392).

Today Korean politicians should learn a sijo and sing it at a party or gathering. Politics can be a poetic flight from ``dirty politics.''

Yi Bang-won's song

What about living this way?

What about living that way?

What about arrowroot vines intertwining on Mansu-san?

Intertwined, we, too, could spend a hundred years together in joy.

Chong Mong-ju's song

Though my body dies and dies again,

Though it dies a hundred deaths,

My skeleton turns to dust, my soul exists or not,

Could the heart change,

That's red-blooded in undivided loyalty to its lord?

The two poems above dramatically show the demise of the Goryo Kingdom and the birth of the Joseon Kingdom.

The old Korean poetry contains the light and shadow of two political leaders' dialogue and debates, which was likely experienced when the two shared a last drink. Chong was killed by Yi after they finished their glasses. Chong knew of his death when he composed the poem above.

I would like to recommend the Yi-Chong poetry exchange to all Korean lawmakers and to all American politicians and journalists. Poetry will make Korean politics poetic and beautiful, as well as discourse in America.

Dr. Choi is now retired after a long teaching career as a political scientist in the United States and Korea. He can be reached at yearnhc@hanmail.net.