By Andrew Salmon
A brouhaha is brewing in Jeju.
Some 550 Yemenis ― hardly a threat to a nation of 50 million ― fleeing their war-torn home seek refugee status on Jeju. Yet nationally, the mood is growing ugly. Politicians are discussing ways to prevent further refugees reaching these shores, and protesters are rallying under the banner "Our citizens first."
I wish the Yemenis good luck, because South Korea has a poor reputation of refugee assistance.
According to a Korea Immigration Service report in 2017, among 15,947 refugees reviewed by the authorities between 1994 and April 2017, just 688 were granted refugee status. That represents 4.3 percent, compared to the median 37 percent acceptance rate worldwide in 2015 as calculated by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees.
This is damning. Especially for a country that is the world's 11th largest economy.
A hostile reception to outsiders goes beyond Yemeni refugees. Migrant workers ― who do the poorly paid, blue-collar jobs that South Korean youth disdains ― face abuse and visa difficulties. Even North Korean defectors complain of discrimination: They are now migrating to third countries (ie, having escaped North Korea, they are now departing South Korea) in record numbers.
One bright spot is the countryside, where tens of thousands of "mail-order brides" from countries like China, Vietnam and the Philippines have married Korean farmers who native maidens refuse to marry. While there are individual tales of woe, on the whole, these women appear to have been accepted, and are mothering children who will be Korean citizens, but with a form of bi-cultural identity.
And diversity is good.
I first visited Korea in 1989 when it was ethnically homogeneous and largely mono-cultural. Seoul was a grim, grey, uniform place. There was no concept of individualism or of lifestyle. Social behavior was aggressive and high stress. There was considerable anti-foreign feeling and Korea was deemed a "hardship posting" for diplomats and businesspersons.
Today's Korea is brighter, kinder and gentler. Seoul is now far more livable for Seoulites of all colors and creeds. Leisure and lifestyle are priorities, and individualism is raising its head. There is little anti-foreign feeling; today, Korea is a desirable posting for diplomats and businesspersons.
One change agent was ability to travel abroad. Prior to 1991, few Koreans were eligible for passports. Subsequently, Koreans swarmed abroad for vacations and for study. They bought home all kinds of new concepts that took root here.
Of course, overseas travel was just one change agent. Democracy was still young in 1989; now, it has matured, and has moved beyond the political sphere and infiltrated wider society. The Asian financial crisis forced Korea to open its long-closed markets to global goods and services ― which, counter-intuitively, helped via the medium of competition, to upgrade Korean products and services. And of course, Korea became richer.
Even so, diversity is, by and large, positive. By "diversity" I speak broadly: Diversity of opinion, of aspiration, of skill sets, of experience. Diversity means looking beyond the near. So, it has geographical, cultural and racial implications.
Moreover, the central enabling factor in the "economic miracle" was the global economy. This leads me to ask: If an influx of overseas concepts, products and services have been net pluses, would an increase in the number of foreigners granted South Korean citizenship not be positive for Korea overall?
South Korea is silvering fast. The birthrate is so low that one researcher has taken the data to its logical (albeit, unlikely) extreme and predicted the year in which (South) Koreans will cease to exist. An old population has all kinds of negative economic effects. Acceptance of migrants is one solution to rejuvenate a population.
Migrants are economically dynamic, working harder than natives to establish themselves. This is proven by a close-to-home example. Diligent, well-educated Koreans have achieved economic and social success in countries as geographically, economically and culturally distant as the U.S. and China.
At a time when the long-distant dream of unification is being raised once more, it speaks poorly of Korea that this country is hostile to poor, traumatized and unfortunate outsiders.
Few nations have benefited more from globalization than South Korea. For this and other reasons, the debate on the Yemeni refugees in Jeju needs a wider context.
Andrew Salmon (andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk) is a Seoul-based reporter and author.
.jpg/dims/resize/740/optimize) |
Some 550 Yemenis ― hardly a threat to a nation of 50 million ― fleeing their war-torn home seek refugee status on Jeju. Yet nationally, the mood is growing ugly. Politicians are discussing ways to prevent further refugees reaching these shores, and protesters are rallying under the banner "Our citizens first."
I wish the Yemenis good luck, because South Korea has a poor reputation of refugee assistance.
According to a Korea Immigration Service report in 2017, among 15,947 refugees reviewed by the authorities between 1994 and April 2017, just 688 were granted refugee status. That represents 4.3 percent, compared to the median 37 percent acceptance rate worldwide in 2015 as calculated by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees.
This is damning. Especially for a country that is the world's 11th largest economy.
A hostile reception to outsiders goes beyond Yemeni refugees. Migrant workers ― who do the poorly paid, blue-collar jobs that South Korean youth disdains ― face abuse and visa difficulties. Even North Korean defectors complain of discrimination: They are now migrating to third countries (ie, having escaped North Korea, they are now departing South Korea) in record numbers.
One bright spot is the countryside, where tens of thousands of "mail-order brides" from countries like China, Vietnam and the Philippines have married Korean farmers who native maidens refuse to marry. While there are individual tales of woe, on the whole, these women appear to have been accepted, and are mothering children who will be Korean citizens, but with a form of bi-cultural identity.
And diversity is good.
I first visited Korea in 1989 when it was ethnically homogeneous and largely mono-cultural. Seoul was a grim, grey, uniform place. There was no concept of individualism or of lifestyle. Social behavior was aggressive and high stress. There was considerable anti-foreign feeling and Korea was deemed a "hardship posting" for diplomats and businesspersons.
Today's Korea is brighter, kinder and gentler. Seoul is now far more livable for Seoulites of all colors and creeds. Leisure and lifestyle are priorities, and individualism is raising its head. There is little anti-foreign feeling; today, Korea is a desirable posting for diplomats and businesspersons.
One change agent was ability to travel abroad. Prior to 1991, few Koreans were eligible for passports. Subsequently, Koreans swarmed abroad for vacations and for study. They bought home all kinds of new concepts that took root here.
Of course, overseas travel was just one change agent. Democracy was still young in 1989; now, it has matured, and has moved beyond the political sphere and infiltrated wider society. The Asian financial crisis forced Korea to open its long-closed markets to global goods and services ― which, counter-intuitively, helped via the medium of competition, to upgrade Korean products and services. And of course, Korea became richer.
Even so, diversity is, by and large, positive. By "diversity" I speak broadly: Diversity of opinion, of aspiration, of skill sets, of experience. Diversity means looking beyond the near. So, it has geographical, cultural and racial implications.
Moreover, the central enabling factor in the "economic miracle" was the global economy. This leads me to ask: If an influx of overseas concepts, products and services have been net pluses, would an increase in the number of foreigners granted South Korean citizenship not be positive for Korea overall?
South Korea is silvering fast. The birthrate is so low that one researcher has taken the data to its logical (albeit, unlikely) extreme and predicted the year in which (South) Koreans will cease to exist. An old population has all kinds of negative economic effects. Acceptance of migrants is one solution to rejuvenate a population.
Migrants are economically dynamic, working harder than natives to establish themselves. This is proven by a close-to-home example. Diligent, well-educated Koreans have achieved economic and social success in countries as geographically, economically and culturally distant as the U.S. and China.
At a time when the long-distant dream of unification is being raised once more, it speaks poorly of Korea that this country is hostile to poor, traumatized and unfortunate outsiders.
Few nations have benefited more from globalization than South Korea. For this and other reasons, the debate on the Yemeni refugees in Jeju needs a wider context.
Andrew Salmon (andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk) is a Seoul-based reporter and author.
![[INTERVIEW] Virtual K-pop group MAVE: is more than just pretty pixels](https://img.koreatimes.co.kr/upload/thumbnailV2/bcc387606cf7451c94f51a5978960c9f.jpg/dims/resize/178/optimize)
![[INTERVIEW] 'Cobweb' director questions meaning of cinema](https://img.koreatimes.co.kr/upload/thumbnailV2/a029c9ea411f4aef94c6310f6a7c3c54.jpg/dims/resize/178/optimize)
