By Jason Lim
Jang Hye-young is a first-term National Assemblywoman from the Justice Party. She was born in 1987 when South Korea overcame dictatorship and achieved democracy, driven mostly by the passion and sacrifice of young students. Many of these young democracy activists have gone on to become star politicians on both sides of the aisle as they transitioned from young, ideological firebrands to politicians increasingly comfortable with backroom dealings and primarily focused on their own political survival.
It's a tale as old as history. The young have become what they despised the most: the cynical, authoritarian class of the entrenched and privileged who justify its moral failings with glib and hypocritical excuses without a sense of the new challenges of the times or empathy for the plight that today's young are facing as the world changes around them.
After witnessing the embarrassing performance by National Assembly members during the annual government oversight hearings, Jang called them out in her speech on Sept. 16.
I translated the key portions of her speech below not because I think it's effective political speech; naming and shaming rarely works to change behavior. However, what it does do is encapsulate the frustrations and fears that the young generation feel at the powers-that-be. It is a generational call-out that resonates emotionally and refreshingly amidst the inter-party bickering that immobilizes by inducing collective cognitive fatigue.
"…I was born in 1987 and do not know the fear you knew when facing off against the dictatorship. That's a fear that only you, who have lived through those times, would know. No matter how many books I read or videos I watch of those times, I dare not say that I know that fear myself.
"But I know other fears. Fear of being ground down to nothing by competition that never ends. Fear of losing my place in a world that's changing daily and becoming ever more complex. Fear of not being able to protect my loved ones from the disasters and inequalities that threaten us. Fear of not living long enough to become a grandmother. It's an unknowable fear without a target or plan: whom do we overthrow to rid us of this fear?"
The last sentence really struck me as the essence of the fear that she expresses on behalf of 20-somethings: the lack of clarity of action. Her fears are abstract fears about the unbearable opaqueness of the future. The uncertainties about what they might face and, worse still, how they can overcome what they face to move forward is what really drives the fear. In the late 1980s, the calling was clear: democratization. Also, the enemy was well-defined: Chun's military dictatorship. Therefore, the formula that governed the youths of the 1980s was equally clear: demonstrate against the dictatorship for the cause of democracy. And the rest will take care of itself. The whole generation derived its raison d'etre from this singular path.
Facing the uncertainty, Jang attempts to define her generation's calling: "If justice in 1987 was about fighting against dictatorship, then justice today is about fighting against inequality and climate change. Just as you risked your youth against tyranny, I stand here today risking my youth to enable a life for everyone that's fair and dignified as we face the great uncertainty brought about by the unceasing inequality that threatens our humanity and robs today's young of their dreams, driven by the carbon-based economy that ― although it once brought us prosperity ― now threatens the survival of all humankind on Earth."
People get really excited and even noble when sacrificing for a cause against a tangible enemy that can be anthropomorphized, but unfortunately they have trouble being motivated against an abstract and complex enemy that can't be boiled down to a "who." Who is the face of inequality? Who is the face of climate change? We all are, which means that none of us are. The story is too complex and nuanced to turn into a simple, effective narrative that can support a general call to action.
Jang, sharing the dissatisfaction of her generation, blames the aging heroes of the 1980s democratic movement who are now the movers and shakers of today's Korea: "But what we are witnessing today is the sad reality in which the heroic change-agents of the past have been transformed into the defenders of the status quo who only pay lip service to the need for change and, in fact, form a bulwark against change. What happened to the exhortations of your youth when you shouted that you were willing to die loveless and nameless in the cause of equality and human dignity? How could such passionate hearts have cooled so lifelessly?"
Her accusations are more plaintive than angry. Therein lies the main flaw in her ask. She fails to realize that the current powers can't solve her problem. They have already proven to be incapable. They will wallow in the quicksand of their increasingly parochial battles until they are forced to become irrelevant. It's Jang and her generation that have to define the new story for the upcoming generation that will clarify the battle lines and bring meaning to their lives. Only then will the opaqueness of their future disappear and it will become clear enough for them to see the path forward.
Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.
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It's a tale as old as history. The young have become what they despised the most: the cynical, authoritarian class of the entrenched and privileged who justify its moral failings with glib and hypocritical excuses without a sense of the new challenges of the times or empathy for the plight that today's young are facing as the world changes around them.
After witnessing the embarrassing performance by National Assembly members during the annual government oversight hearings, Jang called them out in her speech on Sept. 16.
I translated the key portions of her speech below not because I think it's effective political speech; naming and shaming rarely works to change behavior. However, what it does do is encapsulate the frustrations and fears that the young generation feel at the powers-that-be. It is a generational call-out that resonates emotionally and refreshingly amidst the inter-party bickering that immobilizes by inducing collective cognitive fatigue.
"…I was born in 1987 and do not know the fear you knew when facing off against the dictatorship. That's a fear that only you, who have lived through those times, would know. No matter how many books I read or videos I watch of those times, I dare not say that I know that fear myself.
"But I know other fears. Fear of being ground down to nothing by competition that never ends. Fear of losing my place in a world that's changing daily and becoming ever more complex. Fear of not being able to protect my loved ones from the disasters and inequalities that threaten us. Fear of not living long enough to become a grandmother. It's an unknowable fear without a target or plan: whom do we overthrow to rid us of this fear?"
The last sentence really struck me as the essence of the fear that she expresses on behalf of 20-somethings: the lack of clarity of action. Her fears are abstract fears about the unbearable opaqueness of the future. The uncertainties about what they might face and, worse still, how they can overcome what they face to move forward is what really drives the fear. In the late 1980s, the calling was clear: democratization. Also, the enemy was well-defined: Chun's military dictatorship. Therefore, the formula that governed the youths of the 1980s was equally clear: demonstrate against the dictatorship for the cause of democracy. And the rest will take care of itself. The whole generation derived its raison d'etre from this singular path.
Facing the uncertainty, Jang attempts to define her generation's calling: "If justice in 1987 was about fighting against dictatorship, then justice today is about fighting against inequality and climate change. Just as you risked your youth against tyranny, I stand here today risking my youth to enable a life for everyone that's fair and dignified as we face the great uncertainty brought about by the unceasing inequality that threatens our humanity and robs today's young of their dreams, driven by the carbon-based economy that ― although it once brought us prosperity ― now threatens the survival of all humankind on Earth."
People get really excited and even noble when sacrificing for a cause against a tangible enemy that can be anthropomorphized, but unfortunately they have trouble being motivated against an abstract and complex enemy that can't be boiled down to a "who." Who is the face of inequality? Who is the face of climate change? We all are, which means that none of us are. The story is too complex and nuanced to turn into a simple, effective narrative that can support a general call to action.
Jang, sharing the dissatisfaction of her generation, blames the aging heroes of the 1980s democratic movement who are now the movers and shakers of today's Korea: "But what we are witnessing today is the sad reality in which the heroic change-agents of the past have been transformed into the defenders of the status quo who only pay lip service to the need for change and, in fact, form a bulwark against change. What happened to the exhortations of your youth when you shouted that you were willing to die loveless and nameless in the cause of equality and human dignity? How could such passionate hearts have cooled so lifelessly?"
Her accusations are more plaintive than angry. Therein lies the main flaw in her ask. She fails to realize that the current powers can't solve her problem. They have already proven to be incapable. They will wallow in the quicksand of their increasingly parochial battles until they are forced to become irrelevant. It's Jang and her generation that have to define the new story for the upcoming generation that will clarify the battle lines and bring meaning to their lives. Only then will the opaqueness of their future disappear and it will become clear enough for them to see the path forward.
Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.
