Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.
Joseon Korea's Russian-advised Army
A Russian military adviser with Korean soldiers. Photograph by Isabella Bird Bishop, circa 1897.
By Robert Neff
At the end of the 19th century, Korea found itself in a wild vortex of modernization often inspired and frustrated by internal and external political pressure.
The Korean military was no exception. In the 1880s and early 1890s, Chinese, Japanese, American and British advisers had trained the Korean military using modern methods but each was short-lived and ultimately failed. In the summer of 1896, it was Russia's turn.
A core group of cadets and officers were chosen and, through the assistance of 10 Korean-Russian interpreters, trained by a handful of Russian officers and NCOs (non-commissioned officers). The commands were all given in Russian and the cadets learned very quickly and garnered much praise ― not only from their superiors but also from the public.
Isabella Bird Bishop, an English traveler and writer, encountered them in the streets of Seoul and wrote:
“A novelty, too, was the sight of the Korean cadet corps of 37 young men of good families and seven officers marching twice daily between the drill-ground of the Korean troops close to the [Gyeongbok] Palace and their own barracks behind the Russian Legation, with drums beating and colors flying.”
She was quick to note that the earlier American military advisers had failed and that the soldiers trained by Japanese advisers “were mutinous and rapacious.” Somehow she forgot to mention the failed British-advised naval academy at Ganghwa Island. But she wasn't the only one to heap disdain on these earlier attempts.
Russian military officers. Photograph by Isabella Bird Bishop, circa 1897.
The Russian newspaper Novoye Vremya summed up the earlier attempts by the American and Japanese advisers as having “no interest in raising [the Korean military's] efficiency. They were satisfied to draw their pay, and glad that the Koreans did not ask them to do more.”
Despite Bird's praise for the Russian advisers' success, she also noted that the Russians were not doing this only for the good of Korea:
“It is most probable that a force drilled and armed by Russia, accustomed to obey Russian orders and animated by an intense hereditary hatred of Japan, would prove a valuable corps d'armee to Russia in the event of war with that ambitious and restless empire.”
Three months later, after the initial cadets were trained, an additional 800 men ― the royal bodyguard ― were selected. The selection was not easy, as many of the men were afraid of the dour Russians and feigned sickness, lameness and lied about their ages ― some even broke ranks and ran away.
Once the units were formed, the Korean soldiers were given new uniforms. The enlisted men wore blue serge frock trousers, low shoes, white gaiters and blue felt hats with narrow red bands for ornamentation while the officers wore blue-braided patrol jackets with blue trousers and Wellington boots, worn outside the trousers. These uniforms had a lot of gold lace as ornamentation that appealed to their military vanity.
The Korean Army circa 1904.
The barracks were near the West Gate and were comprised of large rooms ― 25 men to each ― with kitchens. Their rations consisted of “boiled rice of liberal quantity, a large bowl of vegetable soup mixed with beef and a generous supply of kimchi or pickles.” They lived fairly well and were paid a comparatively decent wage.
Of course, there were misunderstandings. When the Russians erected gymnastic equipment to be used in physical training, some of the Korean soldiers thought they were torture devices. Nor were they pleased when they were instructed that their long hair needed to be cut. After it was explained that it was more hygienic (I am sure there was more to it than just explaining), all the soldiers eventually agreed to cut their hair, with the exception of one ― Colonel Chang Ki-rem, the commander of the unit.
Chang explained that “the Minister of War and other high officials do not cut off their topknots, therefore, he being a high-class official must follow their example rather than that of his inferiors.”
Chang was of the old-school and acknowledged he was “not versed in modern military tactics and the science and art of foreign warfare,” but insisted he was “the best scholar in the old-fashioned Korean military matters.”
Naturally enough, his views on discipline and punishment differed from the Russian advisers. The Russians generally imposed a few days' imprisonment or corporal punishment with bamboo sticks but Chang was convinced that the secret to good discipline was to summarily behead anyone who did not follow a superior's orders to the smallest detail.
While the Russian advisers were successful, the Russian government's growing influence in Korean politics was not appreciated by the other foreign powers or members of the Korean government. In March 1898, the Korean Foreign Minister informed the Russian government that “the officers who have been sent here have afforded the most effective assistance, and have now accomplished the work to our satisfaction, and we are very grateful.”
The fickle winds of Korean politics had shifted and the Russian advisers had been dismissed.